Date: Thu, 05 Aug 2004 01:47:55 -0400
From: Just Jake <mission_hockey_4_life@hotmail.com>
Subject: Dear Journal I (highschool)

This story is a work of fiction and any resemblances to any person or
written works are purely coincidental.  The author retains all rights to
the work, and requests that in any use of this material that my rights are
respected.  Please do not copy or use this story in any manner without my
permission.  It may contain consensual sex between young men, or at least
thoughts of it.  You've found this site like the rest of us so the
assumption is that material of this nature does not offend you.  If it
does, or it is illegal for you to view this content for whatever the reason
please just keep on passing by.

This story is the continuation of From the Heart of a Little Guy, also in
the Highschool section (June 7/04 -- August 5/04 ).  (It now takes over
from Jon's view point for those that have read that story.)  For those that
haven't read it, you don't necessarily have to, I'm sure you can pick up on
all of the pertinent details here.  But please go ahead and read it
anyway!!!

As always, please read of your own free will, and direct any positive
comments, constructive criticism or general feedback to: 
mission_hockey_4_life@hotmail.com

			  * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dear Journal:

I turn to you because I have nothing else.  I'm all alone.  I hurt so bad.
You have no idea how bad.

Two weeks ago all the happiness in my life got ripped away.  I've died.
Not literally obviously, but I sometimes wish I had, it would be easier
than this.  I haven't contemplated methods of suicide or anything like
that, don't be silly, but I have thought a lot that not being alive would
beat this hurt and pain and anger I feel.

I hate Daniel!

No.  No, I don't.

I could never, not ever, hate Daniel.  These tears I'm crying tell me that.

Tears.  They're almost all I have of him.  For all the time we carefully
spent together all I have of Daniel is a rough draft English essay on post
Neo-Classical authors, a stuffed Tigger, and his Calvin Klein boxer briefs
from one night when he stayed over.  (I wish I hadn't washed them now, if
they only could have forever left me a lingering sense of Daniel.)  And
Bandit, my puppy and new best friend by default, is indirectly from him.

We were so cautious!  We never spent enough time together as we wanted so
that people wouldn't get suspicious.  We never wrote notes or letters.  We
never bought each other anything besides Timon and Tigger.  Well now,
that's not true either.  I have this box in front of me.  Its metallic red
wrapping paper is neatly bound in silver and pink ribbon with a silver and
white bow.  I can hardly believe how impressive it looks.  I spent so much
time on it.  I know we weren't supposed to get each other anything for
Valentine's Day, but I just had to.  I risked the embarrassment of going to
the department store and buying a pair of white 2xist sports briefs for
him.  I know he would have loved then.  I know he would have seen what it
took for me to risk buying a pair of underwear that were clearly too small
for me.  I know he loves me, I know he would have loved me all the more for
my effort despite breaking our promise of no gifts.  Journal, I've dripped
so many tears on the attached card that the ink had run to the point that
now I can no longer even make out Daniel's name on it.  It doesn't really
matter now, but do you know what's really in that box?  My heart.

At first Journal, there was the physical attraction.  I had to know him the
first day I laid eyes on him in grade 9.  Then when he walked into the
music store at lunch that one day, I just had to say something to him.  I
was so nervous, I acted so dumb.

Nearly a year later, I was so afraid that day when I told him in the gym
bathroom that I was gay.  Maybe I was too vague, when he didn't clue in I
wanted to die.  How could I put myself out on a limb any further than that?
But he knew then, I just had a feeling he knew.  Sure it was just luck that
we met, that he knew Michael and I met Michael and then him through my
friend Phil.  But c'mon, I mean he knew I was touching his leg at Michael's
birthday sleepover a few weeks before hand, and I totally gave myself away
even then by pleading with him that I wasn't gay and for him not to tell
anyone.  It really messed me up even more when he didn't rat me out or make
fun of me, or even avoid me.  So instead I started avoiding him.  What did
it mean that he didn't say or do anything differently?  Did he keep quiet
because he was embarrassed?  Because he was disgusted and had blocked it
out?  Could he possibly be O.K. with it, like not O.K. that I touched him,
but O.K. that I'm a fag?  Then my hopeful mind dared to go hog-wild on a
long shot he was O.K. with it because maybe he was gay too.  But again I
was so afraid when I went over to his house that night and laid it all out
to him.  I don't know how I ever really managed to.  On the one hand if he
wasn't cool with it my life would have just plain and simply been over.  My
heart would have died.  And then on top of that if he told anyone?  Still
my head was such a mess because of how I felt about him I just couldn't
deal with it any more.  It wasn't out of some hope that he would want me
too that I told him.  I had to clear my head and talk to someone about how
I felt.  He's the only person I thought might not hate me because I was
gay.  My head was such a mess, I needed someone else to hopefully tell me
that it's O.K,, that I wasn't a bad person for it.  I sure wasn't able to
do it for myself anymore.  Bouncing up and down like a jack rabbit on his
couch I managed to force the words out of my mouth.  Instantly I wanted to
run, I think I actually thought then about killing myself when he just
looked blankly at me.  You see, we only knew each other on the surface at
the time, but still Daniel was my best friend.  He was my soul mate.  I
risked everything I am to tell him I'm gay.  I really thought that maybe,
just maybe he would still be alright with me.  I thought maybe I could have
one real person to talk to, one real person to know me and let me live.
And then he gives me more than I ever dared get my hopes up for, not more
than I wished for, but more than I would let myself dream of.  After
tackling me at his door he told me he's gay too.  But that's not all
Journal, he told me that he thought he liked ME!  I was so scared from the
tackle that I was near pissing myself when he told me that he thought he
was in love with me!  It didn't even register at first' but I made no move
to leave as I was still frozen in fear on his steps.  When I finally
understood my heart exploded from its prison.  I've never felt such a flood
of emotion in my life before or after that moment.  Not even when I was
told my Dad had died.  Nope, I've never felt such a flood of emotion that
is until two weeks ago.  I can't believe how good it was to not be the only
one.  I can't believe how good it was to just be real.  I could handle not
having the relationship I think, but I can't handle not having him.  Now
there's no one like me.  Again, I'm all alone in this world.

But Journal, it was never about the sex.  For the few times we had sex I
was always so nervous, we were both so awkward.  Sure it got better as we
got more comfortable with ourselves and each other.  Still, I think we both
only did anything together for fear that the other might not be happy
otherwise.  I don't know.  But as open and honest as we were, I could never
ask Daniel If I'm right about that.  No Journal, what it was about was that
he was someone that instantly made me feel good.  Sure he's a little
hottie, and I wanted him so bad just for his looks, but it was much more
than physical.  He is such a strange blend of a level headed, kind hearted,
funny, good looking teenage guy.  He became my best friend, my soul mate,
the one person that I dared complete honesty with, the only person I could
be completely free with.  And now he's gone.

Arrrgh!

Journal, the finger of pain has turned upon itself and I can't find a way
to endure.

Why?  Why does life have to be so cruel?  Mom's definitely worried about
me.  I had to stop using tissues because we haven't gone so many boxes
since Dad fell asleep at the wheel and drove his rig into the side of that
bridge and died.  I've cried a river, and there's still more.  Why can't I
be happy in life?

Tim has been real nice to me since the party two weeks ago.  So has Neil.
He walked home with me from Daniel's that night, as I cried the whole way.
They have tried to comfort me.  They've tried to get me to stay with them
at lunch, and do things after school.  That is, when I go to school.  I
shouldn't blow them off, but I need to just be alone.  I need to be away
from everyone so they won't see my pain.  I can't ever show my true self
again.  What does it get me?  Where does it get me?  No, I have to pretend
again, no cracks in my guard this time.  It's just that I'm not ready for
that battle just yet.  Hell, I don't know if I ever will be again.  The
best part of me has gone along with Daniel to St. Louis.

It's Friday night.  Today's Leap Day.  I'm holed up here in my room staring
at a computer screen through my new companion; my never faraway tears.  I'd
stare at a picture of Daniel through these tears, but I don't have one.

Coach Maynes came by tonight.  He talking with Mom right now, I'm sure
she's super pissed.  Now I don't feel safe here at home either.  I know
I've missed too much school, I know that Coach Maynes won't tell Mom I'm
gay.  But she'll be on to me now.  I just know it.

I hate this life!  I hate this fucking world.

And Daniel!  Daniel, Daniel, Daniel.  Why haven't you called me Daniel?  I
love you!  I know I do, because I don't know what can hurt more than not
having you.  This pain!  It's not just mental pain and anguish, it's so
real that it's also physical.  It's in my chest, in my stomach, it's in my
tears.

I'm so alone.

* * * * *

Part 1: Transition

"Jonathan Farrows!  Open this door and let me in.  NOW." Mom bellowed,
waking me from my tear induced sleep in my chair at the computer.  And with
that, not willing to risk my Mom's ire, I let her in.

"Honey, I know you're the youngest and still miss your father.  I know that
you have a hard time making friends.  But a nice man from your school paid
me a friendly visit just now.  He says that you have been skipping classes
a lot since your friend moved.  He tells me you are a lot like his son and
wishes that he could have been more than cheque for him.  He's quite
worried about you Jonny.  He also said that you have a few friends that are
worried about you too.  They're waiting down by the park, why don't you get
out of the house for a change and go see them?"

"Nah Ma.  I'm not really up to it, just let me be?  O.K.?"

"I can't do that Jonny.  I'm going out for coffee with that fine gentleman,
and Candace and Lacey are having a girls sleep over tonight and you should
be out of the house for them until later tonight.  It's Leap Day, make it
special Jonny.  As for school, we'll talk about that tomorrow when you get
home from work.  Don't you forget, I won't."

What gives?  I've got nosy people trying to pry into my life, getting the
Coach to come talk to my Mom, and just what gives there too?  Mom was going
for coffee with Coach? What a twist there!  And she's trying to brush it
off!  What's going on here, what's up with that?  I tried to rationalize
it.  I can see if they have something to talk about, like me for instance,
it might interfere with girls night at the Farrow residence.  But still, it
was the way Mom said to me that she was going out for coffee with someone.
I couldn't think of a way to turn it on her though, she had all the
leverage she needed.  Promising on everything I hold dear to my mother,
just to avoid her walking me by the hand to the park, I went straight to
the park to find Tim, Neil and Tanya there.  Of course, in walking straight
to Freed Park I did take my sweet ass time.

"Hey Jon," Tanya said.

"Hey Jon," Neil and Tim echoed.

"Hi," I sullenly responded.

"For what it's worth Jon, we're sorry for Coach coming over.  He pretty
much forced us to come along.  Not that we wouldn't do it for you, but you
know, just want you to know that this was his doing.  So don't be mad at
us, alright.  As soon as Coach leaves, you can go if you want.  But if you
want, we all can just hang out, maybe talk about Daniel.  We all miss him,
Jon.  Or if you don't want to talk about him then we won't talk about him."
Tania tried to comfort me, embracing me in a hug.

Trying to add support, Tim said, "Hey Jon, he was our friend too.  He's
just moved, that's all.  We should be happy that it's just that.  It's not
like he died."

In the ensuing silence I selfishly thought that in fact for me it might be
easier than not being able to have him.

We all sat there on the grass on a side of a slight hill in the park, under
the shade of a tree reflecting inwardly on Tim's comment.

Tania and Tim finally broke the silence.  Pretty much at the same time
Tania asked, "Has anyone heard from him since he left?", and Tim asked me
directly, "What was that crap Neil told me about his Uncle saying something
about being him being gay and all about anyhow?"

I didn't feel social and opted not to respond.  Neil snapped his fingers in
front of my face, "Earth to Jon, this is Houston, Jon do you copy?  (long
pause) Uh, Mission Control, this is Houston, I think we've got a problem
here!"

Tim laughed at Neil's joke, Tania scowled.

Neil pressed on, "Well this is boring.  We were heading over to Moody Park,
there's a little carnival or some shit going on.  Wanna come Jon?  I'll be
holding Tania's hand, but I'm sure Tim wants his held on the rides too, so
why don't you come, Jon?"

Tim pretend punched Neil in the arm and Tania scoffed.  I sucked up all the
phlegm I could in a loud disgusting display and spit as nonchalantly as I
could.  I didn't want to be stubborn, and actually I usually went to the
annual carnival there so kinda wanted to go, but I still was in a mood.
Tania grabbed my right hand and Tim and Neil lifted me up.  I guess they
weren't taking my non-reply seriously, or even under consideration.  So
into Tim's Mustang we got and headed to Moody Park.  I found it actually
rather ironic that the name of the park fit me perfectly at the time, and
even more so because Moody is a pet name at home for me by my sisters.  I
sat in the front so that Tania and Neil could be the cutesy little couple
in the back seat.  I figured that this gave me liberty to change the
station because it had some sappy 80's love song on it, especially because
the back seat drivers were loudly complaining about it.  Neil made a sound
of shock when I did so, I quickly gathered the no one touches Tim's stereo.
Oh well, I kept flipping through the channels until I landed on a pop
station.  Tim let it slide.  We actually had a good time at the carnival,
me despite myself.  I guess I let myself get caught up in the moment
because I felt a glimmer of life again.  On our way home Tim dropped Tania
and Neil off at her place and then drove to my place.  When we got there,
Coach's van was in the driveway.  I could see Neil and Tania moving
quickly, they were teenagers, but Coach and my Mom?  Lots of lights were
still on, the back patio was lit and the flood light was still illumination
the pool.  Mom and Coach could be out back, but what if they're not.  And
even if they are, what are they doing out back?  Suddenly I was fairly
apprehensive about going home, I surely didn't want to go inside, and Tim
sensed it.  Instead we went to a 24 hour Golden Arches.

I felt mixed up inside.  Against my plans I had actually had fun with Tim,
Neil and Tania.  I wanted to let myself go, but I still held back.  I
wondered if this was some big set up or were they just nice people.  People
aren't usually just nice without a reason...  Studying my McChicken, I sat
in silence while Tim tried to figure out a way to crack me.  So I took the
initiative, thwarting whatever line of questions he was working on.  "He's
not gay you know.  They sent him to St. Louis for nothing.  Make his life
easier for him?  Yeah right.  I'm sure if he were gay St. Louis wouldn't be
any easier than it is here in Houston.  It's just his bitch mom is so
fucking hard on him.  You know?  She swears he'll get kicked out if he's
messing around with girls, knocking then up and stuff, but at the same time
she nagged him about why he doesn't have a girlfriend.  And we all know
football was his life and she never gave him any encouragement or support.
She just showed up at games because she wanted to look like a good mother
to Coach, because Coach and his Uncle know each other."

Tim was a good listener I found, not trying to attack me with questions or
question me at all, he just let me tell him what I had to say and offered
his genuine thoughts.  "Neil told me what his uncle said.  Anyone can be
gay.  Not that I overly think Daniel is, I guess.  I mean he easily could
be; it never really mattered to me.  Or Neil either for that matter.  But
still, he and you get accused of it behind your backs just like Neil and I
do, just because we're good friends.  Fuck 'em all is what I say.  People
have nothing better to do than spread this rumor or that, and because he
was so small, but still probably the best athlete they had to attack his
manhood instead.  I know Michael was your friend but I never liked that
ass.  I'm not at all sorry for helping break his face."

"Why's that?" I asked, but I was more concerned with what people were
saying about me at school.  I felt my stomach turn when Tim suggested that
Daniel is gay, and it got violently worse when he said people were talking
about us.

"Cuz he's fake, you know?  He's not that good at football, not that good at
school, not that good with the girls, so he's always putting someone down
to make himself look good.  I don't honestly know how you ever could
tolerate being around that ass, Farrows."

"I met him through his cousin Phil.  Phil and I were best friends until he
moved to Dallas in grade 9.  I guess it's just because I don't play any
sport really, so I guess Michael was my link to the guys that way.  He was
an alright guy when it was just us, until he fried his head and attacked
Daniel."

"I guess, never saw it that way."

"So is everyone talking about me at school now?  I've been in such a daze
even when I'm there."  I didn't explain that, and Tim didn't ask for any.
Still I guess it's almost an admission of sorts somehow that obviously I am
hung up on Daniel, but Tim let it slide, never forcing the issue.

"Yeah, people think you've flipped your lid or something.  Like you're
mental or something.  But honestly?  Fuck 'em.  Who cares what people
think.  It's just like the time Debbie Van De Berg spread the rumor about
Daniel and you holding hands.  You've still got friends you know; you can
hang with Tania, Neil or me any time you know.  We're cool with you."

I was stalling, I didn't want to go home still.  It felt good to talk to
Tim, not that I was being totally honest.  But what was that last comment
supposed to mean?  They're cool with me?  Cool with what?  Was Tim
suggesting that I'm gay?  Could I just float it out there and see what
reaction I get.  No, I have to pretend as always that I'm straight, but
it's not much effort when it's what I've always done.  I didn't want to go
home though because the Coach with my Mom thing was bugging the hell out of
me.  Mostly I think though it was a distraction from my depression.  Tim
knew this right from the start, that why he offered to stay with me and
drove to the McDonalds in the first place.  Again, extending his
hospitality he told me I could probably crash at his place.  To get me to
laugh he jokingly added that it was conditional on me not trying to put the
moves on him.  Again, was he suggestion that I'm gay or was he just joking
like straight guys do?  Surely if he really thought I was gay I wouldn't be
invited to stay over.  Mom, Dad, I brought a fag home and he's going to
stay the night, O.K.?  Arrrgh!  The confusion!

We went by my place and I stuck a note on a McNapkin to the wreath hanger
(nail) on the front door, telling my Mom where I was and giving her Tim's
cell phone number.  When we got to Tim's it was almost 2 in the morning.
We were both tired as he led me to his room.  Tim has a queen size bed that
he offered to share with me.  He told me to sleep however I felt
comfortable as he kicked off his jeans and toed off his socks.  He hoped in
bed with his t-shirt still on and printed boxers, and then stripped off the
shirt after he switched the light off.  Not my type at all, he still has a
nice body; about 6' tall, maybe 6'1" with a thick solid build.  No fat on
him, no heavily defined muscles, but not a toothpick either by any means.
Tim is totally your Abercombie and Fitch type model looking guy with brown
eyes and sandy blonde hair.  I instantly felt the pangs of betrayal as I
thought of my Daniel.  Here I was hopping into another guy's bed, with that
other guy.  Even if it was completely plutonic, I felt like I was somehow
cheating.  Cheating Daniel and myself.  I took off my pants and t-shirt,
folded them, and hoped into Tim's bed in my tank top undershirt,
boxer-briefs and socks.

Tim slapped me on the chest, said "good night buddy" and rolled onto his
side, his back facing me.

"Thanks again Tim, I really appreciate tonight," I said back and then
listened in silence as he drifted off to sleep.

When I was sure he was asleep I finally let myself cry.  Silently I cried
again for Daniel and eventually slipped into a fitful sleep.  I would wake,
and sensing a body beside me I'd instinctively reach for Daniel, only to
startle Tim and then come to my senses.  I woke up at one point with Tim's
arm over me and perversely stayed still as long as I was awake, remembering
what it was to hold Daniel and be held by him.  I had woken up at least 10
times by the time the morning sun was poking through Tim's window.  The hum
of the air conditioner was replaced by his younger brothers and sister and
their Saturday morning cartoons when he finally woke.  I had to take a piss
in the worst way, but hadn't stirred because I didn't want to wake him.
Once he woke I made a bee-line for his ensuite bathroom.  I think I could
have done damage to the plumbing I had to go so bad!

Walking out of his bathroom I noticed he had made the bed, except for the
pillows which sat on top of it.  I couldn't help but notice the marks my
tears had left on the one that I had obviously used.  He didn't say
anything, he just put a reassuring hand on my neck, patted me on the
shoulder and then slapped me on the chest.  Slipping on a pair of
tear-aways and a new t-shirt he offered to drive me home.  I accepted.

In the car Tim was again supportive, "Hey man, I know you're heads swimming
and you probably don't know what ways up half the time any more.  We're all
bummed that Daniel's gone so I won't force that any further, whatever bond
you guys had, just be thankful that you had that.  True friends are hard to
find.  But your Mom and the Coach?  I can see that that's something you're
not even ready to deal with, so if it ever gets too much you can crash here
man.  My parents are cool like that."

"Thanks again Tim.  Thanks to you and Neil and Tania.  Thanks for last
night, and for letting me crash.  I really appreciate that." I genuinely
said.

Laughing, Tim added, "And it's not like you put the moves on me or anything
like people think you would.  I guess what I am trying to say is that Neil
and I don't think you're gay or whatever.  If you need a friend Jon, just
call me.  O.K.?"

"I don't even have you number." I remembered and said so as Tim pulled into
my driveway.

"Sure you do, it's on the note you left your Mom last night.  Like I said,
use it any time you want to."

I promised I would, and really meant it as I got out of his Mustang.  For a
few fleeting minutes this morning I forgot my pain and heartache over
Daniel.  Looking up the empty driveway I sighed and headed towards the
house.  Staring into the empty car port I tried to think back how long it
had been since we had a car.  Man, after coming from Tim's house I suddenly
felt poor.  He had a nice house, his own car, you know, everything.  And
here we were, all five of us working just to meet the bills we had on our
tiny little house in the run-down neighborhood.  I then wondered how late
Coach had stayed over.  I wondered where he lived.  I was falling back into
my depression again by the time I put my key in the lock and opened the
door.  I turned to shout at Tim, remembering that at some point in the
night it hit me that if he came over for a swim I could stall my talk with
Mom for a while, maybe indefinitely.  But no luck, as I turned Tim was
already on the street, shifting into first gear and pulling away.  Trying
to avoid my Mom I slipped into the house and into my room unnoticed,
changed into a pair of beach shorts and headed outside to the pool.  It was
a warm February and the water had stayed in the mid 70's.  I got down on
myself once I hopped into the pool as I had selfishly switched shifts for a
couple weeks off from the restaurant and the music store at the mall to
pout, when instead I should have been making money for the house and to try
and get the pool fixed.

I didn't get much quiet time before Candace, Lacey and their friends were
all up and making a racket in the kitchen.  Sitting on the deck
contemplating life all over again, I got startled when Deanna snuck up on
me.  Getting close to noon, she was stopping by for lunch with Mom, me and
the girls.  Technically she lives with us still, but I think that is out of
guilt to help Mom and us keep the house bills covered.  Otherwise I think
she would have moved in with Scott a long time ago.  But with Mom working
two cruddy jobs, Candace and Lacy both working and Me now working two jobs
too I think she's feel too guilty not supporting Mom.  But such is life
without a quote-unquote bread winner.

"Hey Jonathan Jr.  What's up, your buddy leave you or something?" Deanna
was the only person that referred to me by that name, mostly around home
I'm Jonny or Moody.  I think I caught a little extra emphasis put on the
`your buddy' part.

Visibly recoiling from the words I snapped back, "Yeah.  His bitch mom sent
him to live with another of his uncles in St. Louis.  Thanks for caring."

"Oh Jonny, I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know that." She was
honestly mortified for her previous words.

"Yeah.  Life's just great that way."

"How about your other friend.  The big oafy guy?  Phil's cousin?  You
haven't had him around much lately either I hear.  Have a falling out with
him too or something?  You just seem so bummed lately."  Deanna cared, she
was a great sister, I was closest to her probably because Candace and Lacey
were so close and it just left us.  But still, even though she was 10 years
older than me, she always acted like I mattered.

"Nah, I hate Michael.  He's the reason Daniel got sent away.  He came after
Daniel with a bat at a Valentine's party we were at and Daniel's mom
freaked and she and his Uncle shipped him off.  They say St. Louis will be
easier for him than it is here in Houston.  I kinda miss him.  I'm just
bored and I guess lonely without him around."

"Yeah I know what you mean.  That's a bummer.  Candance told me one of your
teachers stopped by last night.  She and Lacey think you're in trouble or
something.  Are you?"

"Nah.  I've skipped a bit of school but I don't think it's all that
important.  Did she also tell you that Ma went on a date with that teacher
yesterday?  Coach Maynes, remember him?"  I was tired of being examined and
exposed so I changed the subject as deftly as I could.

"Coach Maynes, the football guy right?  Had a son?"  She asked.

"Yup.  That's the one, except I think his son is gay.  That's what I hear
anyhow.  Doesn't that bother you?"  I floated that out there to see if I
could get a reaction out of her and gauge what it was.

She didn't take my bait though, instead she remarked, "Well he's pretty
good looking, not too old, and single.  Ma could do a lot worse than him."

"Yeah, but when has Ma dated?  She always here, it's always just been her
and us it seems.  She's just, you know, Ma."  It sounded childish to me
even as I said it.

Deanna admonished me and then headed inside, "Jonny!  Don't be selfish!
She's been alone a long time now.  She has to start thinking about herself
sometime.  I say good for her!  As for you, don't work on you melanoma for
too long, it is only the first of March."

Shortly after that Mom came outside for our talk.  "Jonny, tell me what's
going on with you?  Why are you skipping school?  And you`re almost always
working Saturday mornings now, except for this and last week.  I know your
friend's gone, your teacher told me all about it.  Why didn't you tell me?"

"I dunno, guess I thought it didn't really matter too much or would cause
this much of a fuss."  I still tried to avoid the full on interrogation.

"If it didn't matter that much then why are you late for school, late for
classes and have skipped off at some point nearly every day the past two
weeks.  Plus you've switched your shifts at work.  As for the fuss> Your
teacher says the school is concerned and he's acting in the role of an
assistant principal in talking with me about it.  So why don't you just
start from the beginning young man and don't give me the runaround."

 O.K.  My cover's blown, I've got no choices.  Mom can be very persuasive
when she wants to be, she has done quite well getting what she wants out of
people in my lifetime.  I'm not going to fight it any more, "O.K.  Yeah,
Ma.  My friend's mom and Uncle sent him to another Uncle's to stay in
St. Louis.  I'm pissed off at them.  I miss him, and I'm mad that he's just
left me behind and hasn't called or anything.  I'm bored and lonely.  I'm
confused too.  And my other so called best friend was the reason that he's
gone; Michael attacked Daniel with a bat at a party.  And now Daniel's gone
and I'm all alone without any friends because I don't ever want to speak to
Michael again.  And before them Phil was my only friend, and he's long gone
too.  So there you go, that's it Ma.  I'm a big fat looser, and it's just
me feeling sorry for myself.  O.K.?"

Ever forceful and open, Mom just came out and lectured me, "Oh my Jonny,
I'm so sorry.  You shouldn't bottle it all up though.  You keep too much
inside that head of yours' .  You never let people know what's going on
inside of it.  One day you're going to explode."

"I had someone to share those thoughts with Ma.  He's gone now.  Get it?" I
offered, little more than a whisper.

"What about your other friends?  What about the group you were with
yesterday?" Mom pressed.

"What about them?  They're O.K. I guess.  But I don't really know them too
well.  They were Daniel's other friends, not mine." I reasoned.

Where I reasoned, she rationalized, "Well that may be, but they seem to
care enough about you to come over with Larry and took you out.  They seem
nice enough to offer to help you out at school.  And that boy was nice
enough to let you spend the night at his house and drop you off this
morning.  Did you thank him Jonny?  Did you thank his parents for having
you over last night.  I hope you did, I hope I've taught you at least
enough manners to do that."

I told her the truth, "Yes Ma.  I thanked him and told him I really
appreciated his help and his caring.  I didn't see his parents and I forgot
to ask him to thank them for me."

"You make sure you do, the first opportunity you get to.  You can be
whatever you want to be in this life, but until you become that you are
going to be my humble son.  If you are genuine the world opens doors for
you Jonny.  You know that." She started a whole other lecture that I could
mimic word for word.  Her take on life was that you had to always be kind
to other people.  It's a big part of her philosophy and religion.  I know I
missed church more times than not, but I can't recall the last time she
did.  Not even on vacation; if we couldn't go to a church she still made us
have family time and keep to ourselves on Sunday's away from home.  Blah,
blah, blah, she was finishing up as my mind caught on Coach; Larry she
called him.  Ya, right.  There it is again, what's going on between them?
Yea me, more hurt.

Cutting her speech short, I interjected, "Hey Ma, why do you still call me
Jonny.  You've always called me that but I'm not a little boy anymore.
I've gone by Jon since high school, can you please just start calling me
that too, please?  I know you think it's the thing to do here in Texas, but
it just shows that you are a foreigner here even after all this time!  You
call me Jonny like that and it shows you come from the old neighborhoods in
New York, and even the old bloodlines from the villa's in Italy.  You sound
like a true Wop, Ma.  Like you're from Goodfellas or something.  People
would think I'm one too, when the only Italian I know comes from you and
gangster movies."

"Alright, alright.  My baby boy really is growing up.  Jon.  There!  I'll
try." Mom rolled her eyes at me and sounded the slightest bit hurt.

I ventured onto dangerous territory.  Dangerous because I didn't know how
she would react and how I would to what she might say.  In a sarcastic tone
I inquired, "So what's up with you and Larry?"

"He's a very nice man.  Seems to have taken a keen interest in you and
wants you to get back on track.  That's what's up with him and me.  But
you, you have a growing puppy to take for a walk Jonny.  I mean Jon.  Take
Bandit for a walk to the park.  And brush him.  He sheds almost as much
hair as you skip classes.  And clean up this yard, dogs don't clean up
after themselves."  I guess asking about Coach and her was off limits.

I got Bandit's leash and brush and headed over to the park with him.  He
was a handful, but thanks To Daniel's Uncle I had some control over him
through the voice commands and treats I kept in my hand.  When we got to
the park I sat under the same tree as I had the night before and brushed
Bandit.  By the time I had more hair on me than could possibly be left on
him, Bandit got excited by an approaching German Sheppard.  Me, I got
excited by the topless guy that was throwing the ball for the dog.  I knew
him from school, he was a few years older I suppose, and had left for
College somewhere, but I drooled over him momentarily before finally
settling back into my heartache over Daniel.  Sitting under that tree I
made a point to my self that if I was going to pine over Daniel, I would
have to be less obvious about it and just pretend to have moved on.  You
know, complete a circle and make the lie whole again.  Me gay?  Me?  Nope
sorry, you've got the wrong closet case, I mean guy, you've got the wrong
guy!


* * * * * * * * * * * *

Note to the reader:

So there it is; first part of a `new story'.  Phew!  In this ever changing
world I am writing this story as time and life permit me to.  Therefore in
all likelihood there's a good chance that there will be longer lapses of
time between new parts.  So keep checking, or if you like I can send blind
emails when I've posted new parts to this story, just let me know and I can
add you to my list.

Have I mentioned yet that I love feedback?  Please direct any positive
comments, constructive criticism or general feedback to:
mission_hockey_4_life@hotmail.com

I will try to respond to all.