Date: Mon, 07 Apr 2003 22:24:31 +0000
From: Nick Shafer <s4shafer@hotmail.com>
Subject: Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me - Chapter 1

Don't let the Sun Go Down on Me.
(c) Copyright Nicholas Shafer 2003

I've written before for nifty, but this is my first foray into the high
school genre, so any feedback at all would be much appreciated. I love
email. So please let me know at s4shafer@hotmail.com

The usual disclaimers apply, this is a work of fiction and nothing written
here really happened. If you don't approve of consenting sexual acts
between minors of high school age (16-18), or are under 18, don't read on.

Chapter 1 -- `Made in England'

Don't you hate it when someone introduces you to their friends like this?

`This is Lindsey'

`Hi' (Nod)

`Russ'

`Hi' (Nod again)

`And Matt'

`Hi' (Nod. Do I look a nodding dog or what??)

And you absolutely know that when you speak to that person again you will
have no idea of their name, and either make an embarrassing attempt at it,
or just pretend you know and forever never address them by their name,
calling them `mate' instead.

Unless it's someone who catches your eye, someone you know you won't
forget.  Ever.

`And this is Kit.'

By now I was running on automatic and stuck my hand out to shake...whoever
he was...'s hand.

`Hi' I mumbled.

`Hi, nice to meet ya.'

My head snapped up. That was the sexiest voice I'd ever heard. I flipped my
sunglasses back onto my forehead, and stared. It was all I could do not to
gasp out loud. Standing in front of me had to be the most gorgeous boy in
the world.  Now don't get me wrong I'm not one for over dramatizing, but he
had these eyes -- I have a thing for eyes, they can tell you anything you
want to know about a person in an instant -- eyes that literally sparkled.
They were a deep emerald green, and made him look so...so alive. As for the
rest, well he had a cute face -- a face any model would be proud of,
perfect skin, no imperfections and a nice button nose. And all this set off
by messy strawberry blonde hair, enough to make me go weak at the knees any
day.

`Clay, you ok man?' I snapped out of my daydream and found my guide Kyle
was giving me a strange look. I realised to my horror that I was still
holding Kit's hand. I let go suddenly.

`Sorry man' I grasped desperately for an excuse `but you looked so much
like a mate of mine from back home.' Nice save Taylor, just don't make an
ass out of yourself again today, I thought.

Kit smiled. `No problem, really. Good meeting you...hope I'll see you
around soon.'  He squeezed my arm in a friendly way.

`Yeah, I hope so.'

`Hey...' Kyle was calling across the canteen to another group and I
realised I was set to meet another group of faces to forget. As I wandered
off I took a last look back at Kit. He smiled.

Well maybe the day wasn't a total loss after all...

A few hours earlier. My bedroom. California. USA

Dammit. How come you can never find what you want to wear to make a good
first impression? I mean look at me, and English boy on his first day at an
American high school. What's `cool' to wear here? Hmm...shall I stick with
the English stereotype and drag out the white linen suit, Panama hat and
walking cane?  Kidding...really, just kidding. I'll hazard a guess with a
pair of cut-off's and T shirt instead.

I guess I'm also getting a little ahead of myself.

Let me introduce myself, my name is Clayton Jerome Taylor, but everyone
calls me Clay, and I'll occasionally let CJ slide. I'm about 5'6" medium
built -- that's not skinny, but not jock muscley either, with styled light
brown hair that goes blonde in the sun. My eyes, like my hair, are brown,
and I rather like them. I'm not overly keen on my looks, but at the moment
my skin is spotless and I've got a good tan.  Hey, life could be worse.

And I'm from England, well a small island between England and France called
Jersey, but no one's ever heard of it, and if I say Jersey here everyone
thinks New Jersey -- that really pisses me off. One historical point I'd
like to clear up, your state was named after my island -- given to our
people's ancestors by an English king as a gift -- anyway I digress. (I'm
good at that.) I was born and grew up on Jersey, which is tiny, and had a
rather boring life until about 6 months ago. My father, who is the owner of
a large English Internet development company, told me that he was planning
to expand in a big way. Into America! And so -- to cut a long story short
-- here I am. In California, 17 years old and ready for my first day at an
American `High'.

Oh, and I'm gay. Did I mention that? I guess you might say it's kinda of
important, but I'm trying to keep it off the top of my mind at the
moment. I was pretty open about it at home; everyone at school knew, in
fact I think most the island did. I was pretty well known with school stuff
I did, plus I worked as a personal assistant for a local senator -- yah
freaky huh -- so I had a big public profile. My mum knows, she'd figured it
out ages before I told her. She's really cool about it, she even comes
clubbing with me! My dad, well I'm sure he knows, but we both choose not to
talk about it, and for now I'm content to keep it that way. And I have had
a boyfriend, just one...but that's something to talk about later. I only
hope that my sexuality is accepted here as it was at home, which explains
why I'm waiting before I let on, and maybe only to a few friends -- if I
make some erk! -- to start with. From what I've seen so far from the guys
who live round my neighbourhood -- a nice exclusive little suburb -- the
talent here is very good, I just hope some of it's gay.

Oh, one last thing. Forgive me if I use English phrases like `talent' or
`Rrraa' for good looking guys. It's just me. But as for the spelling
i.e. neighbour, or colour. Well I don't apologise. That's just proper
English. ;-)

Later that Morning

This is very confusing. I really should've done a bit of research before I
came and joined the school system. Radison High the place is called; it
seems nice enough -- big grounds with large sports fields at the back, a
swimming complex and new school hall.  Now my confusion -- apart from my
driver driving on the other side of the road all the way here -- I'm not
entirely used to the school grades system. At home we have years i.e. we go
in at 1 and finish in 13. Pretty simple. Here I guess I'm a `senior'
...I'll work out the rest soon I'm sure. The other weird thing is well,
promise you won't say if I tell you? Promise? I've never had girls in my
school before. I know, it's sad isn't it. I went to an all-boys Catholic
school -- talk about queer breading territory! Don't get me wrong, my best
friend's a girl, and I'm friends with loads, it's just I've never been
taught with them before.

I've gotta report to the principle's office first to get my class list and
get a tour of the school. This sounds about as exciting as having my teeth
drilled, but at least I'll get a free tour of all the cuties. Damn, I gotta
keep my mind off of that!

The Principals Office

I must admit I was feeling quite anxious when I knocked on the Principals
door. I'd got on really well with the headmaster at my last school, all the
pupils did really; he was young and understood where we were coming from,
and so I didn't want to face an old discipline tyrant. But, to my surprise,
I was greeted by a man in his early 30's dressed quit causally in
shirt-sleeves and a tie who introduced himself as Mr Winters, the
Principal.  Things were looking up, he seemed pretty cool, and out the
ground rules for Radison; `You work for us, we'll work for you. ' Hey, I
can handle that, academics have never been a problem for me, and I was on
the swim team back home, so if I get rewarded for doing what I enjoy then
no probs.

"Just so you can get a feel for the place I thought I'd let you have a tour
with a pupil in your grade. Kyle, come in please"

"Hey sir", a boy entered the room.

Nice, I thought, very nice. He was about my height, with brown hair clipped
quite short, a nicely defined body, and best of all a killer smile.

"Hey Kyle" the Principal continued "This is Clayton Talylor..."

"Clay, please sir..."

"This is Clay, and he's just moved here from England, he's going to be in
most of your classes, so I hoped you could give him a tour and look after
him today?"

"Sure thing sir. Come on Kyle, I'll show you the ropes"

"Sorry," I replied "I don't do bondage."

Kyle gave me a quizzical look, and then cottoned on. "Cool, someone with a
sense of humour. You'll do ok here."

As we left the Principals office Kyle quizzed me on my life -- I won't bore
you with the details again -- and told me that he was on the swim team
too. Cool, I was looking forward to seeing my new bud in a Speedo. He told
me that tryouts for this year's team were just a few weeks away and hoped
I'd be joining. To tell the truth I was a bit unsure, I'm not sure what the
quality of the swimming is like here, but hell I agreed to give it a go. We
also compared timetables, and found like the Principal said that we shared
most subjects. I groaned when I saw I had double maths first, I hate maths,
really hate it. It's the only subject that throws me. English, no probs,
History, great.  But maths...well it's just so...math like! Kyle grabbed my
arm and led me down a set of winding corridors. On thing I knew was that
I'd get lost in no time. So this was it I thought as we reached room 2063,
my first class.

It wasn't that bad! Can you believe it! Kyle offered me to sit next to him
so I wouldn't be nervous; I was just happy to get close to him the teacher
Mr Lambert looked the grumpy old maths sort; you know moustache, smells of
dust. But he seemed more interested in sport than teaching maths and was
delighted in having a new student from England to fill him in on the latest
cricket developments. Now, I've never been a big sports fan, but I told him
the most I knew, and he seemed content. When w finally did get round to
some maths it was stuff I'd already covered at home and so I spent most of
my time helping out Kyle -- he's a cool kid, but not so strong
academically.

When the lunch bell rang Kyle told me to come along to the canteen and met
his friends. I could tell by now that Kyle and I would be good buds, so I
was pretty eager to meet a few more of his mates.

"They're a cool bunch, though a little strange"

"Sounds like my kind of people" I said

The canteen was busy by the time we arrived and I got the layout
immediately. It was a canteen like very other in the universe. You know I
think there must be a standard sating plan. So called `Cool' kids here, the
jocks over in the corner, a small group of giggly girls. And that
unmistakeable smell of mass produced food. Yuk.

"Hey there's Lindsey, come on Clay, lets go say hi."

That Night

The afternoon seemed to fly by. I remember bits of it. I remember English,
we were doing Shakespeare and Mrs Glick was really happy to have a real
English student to read the lead in Macbeth. I tried to explain I lived
closer to France than Scotland, but it didn't seem to work. I remember
agreeing to shoot some hoops with kyle round the back of the school. I did
okay, but I'll never play for the team. I remember giving Kyle my number,
asking him to call. I hope he can come round this weekend. I remember
wandering to the car, oblivious.

Because all I could think about was Kit. Gorgeous Kit.

What a day. I just couldn't get his smile out of my mind. I wanted to be
near him, I wanted to touch that smooth tanned skin; I wanted to run my
hands through his hair. I wanted to get a grip, what an idiot I was being,
we'd said about 10 words to each other.

As I slipped into bed that night, I remember his face, etched it seemed
into the back of my eyelids, was the last thing I saw before I fell asleep.


Okay guys, I'm cutting it off there for now. I know not much has happened
yet, but I've got exciting plans for Clay and hopefully a few surprises for
you.  Chapter 2 real soon. Any feedback would be great, and please don't be
too harsh. Love Nick.