Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 08:47:57 -0700 (PDT)
From: Dewey <dewey2k@yahoo.com>
Subject: For the Love of Pete 8

This story is a work of erotic fiction involving teenage boys partially
based on real people and events.  Names have been changed to protect the
guilty as well as the innocent.  All the usual rules apply.  If you
shouldn't be reading this now, then don't continue on.

Copyright Notice - This story is copyright by the author and the author
retains all rights.  You may distribute copy, or print this story however
you like, PROVIDED this copyright notice remains intact and you do not
change the story in any way.  Also you may not charge any fee to anyone to
distribute or access this story.

I'd like to dedicate this chapter to all the boys out there that weren't
allowed to be children when they were kids.  May you find the child in you
long before I found the child in me.

For the Love of Pete
Chapter 8

I don't remember much of what happened for the next several days.  I was
told later that after I broke down in the driveway, I started puking all
over myself.  They had to call an ambulance to transport me because I
wouldn't be touched, and tried to hit anyone that came near me.  The
paramedics finally tackled me and tied me down to a gurney, which was when
I really lost it, if I hadn't already.  I voided everything from bowels to
bladder, and if I had had anything left in my stomach, that would have been
in the ambulance too.  They kept me strapped until the doctor gave me a
shot to put me out.

The next time I was conscious and coherent was three days after Pete had
been taken from me.  I was still in the hospital when I came to, and Mom
was sleeping in the chair next to my bed.  It was one of those fold down
models that turns into a narrow single sleeper.  I had an IV stuck in one
arm, and it was about three according to the clock.  It must have been
early morning because everything was dark and quiet.

I really didn't want to talk to her, but I needed to get that tube out of
my arm.  I hate those things.  Somehow they leave me feeling violated.
Anyway, I found the call button for the nurse and pressed it.

"Yes?" Oh, great.  A speaker phone.  The nurse's voice was pleasant
sounding, if a bit metallic.

"Can someone take this thing out of my arm?"

"I'll be there in a moment."

I looked over to see if the noise had awakened my mom.  She was still
asleep, but not for long.  The nurse opened the door and turned on the
overhead light.  I was right, she did have a pretty voice, but that was all
that was pretty about her.  She was a grandmotherly type, homely but
pleasant.  Her name was Esther Dominik, I noticed.

Mom looked up at the nurse, a blistering rebuke on her lips, but then saw
that I was awake.  She started to smile at me.  I pointedly turned my head
in the other direction, jaw clinched.  She had known Pete was leaving, and
she didn't even tell me so I could say goodbye.  I hated her, and I really
didn't want her near me.

The nurse came to the bedside.  "How are you feeling?"

"Fine.  Will you take this out now?"  I held up my wrist.

"We'll have to wait for the doctor.  He'll be here about seven."
Wonderful.  Four more hours with this damn tube in my arm. She took the
blood pressure cuff off the wall and slipped it around my arm.  She
performed her tasks in silence, efficient and professional.  When she had
finished taking my pulse and temperature, she said, "I'll make sure you are
the doctor's first stop, okay?"

"You sure we can't take it out earlier?"

She shook her head.  "And if you try, we'll have to strap you down again."
Again? The nurse left the room.

Mom stood up and came to my bedside.  Before she said anything, I whipped
my head around and glared at her.  "You knew!"  An accusation.

"Brian, honey, I was trying to spare you this pain."  She put her hand on
mine, and I jerked it away so fast I almost yanked the IV out.

"Don't touch me!  You never listen, and you never take what I say
seriously!  I loved him!  And you just blew that off like usual.  I hate
you for not telling me and letting me say goodbye to him.  It never even
occurred to you that I could love anyone but you!  Guess what.  I don't
love you anymore.  You are no better than....  Just get out.  I don't want
you here! GET OUT!"

"Brian, you can't possibly mean that..."

"LEAVE! NOW!"  I frantically searched for the call button again, but it
wasn't necessary.  The nurse sized up the situation immediately.

"Mrs. Kellam, you'd better come with me.  We can't have him agitated right
now, and you seem to be upsetting him."

Damn right she is!  "I don't want her in my room again!"

"Come with me Mrs. Kellam."  The nurse drug my mother bodily from the room.
Tears started to fill my eyes.  The nurse came back in, and I hastily
rubbed the tears out, but they didn't stop.  Then I thought, "Fuck it.  I
have a right to cry now."  And that's what I did.  I started bawling.  The
longer I cried, the worse I got.  Nurse Dominik came over to my bedside and
spread her arms wide.  I threw myself into her and buried my head into her
shoulder, crying even harder.

I couldn't quit crying.  I tried and tried, but the tears kept coming.  I
couldn't tell you how long I cried that night with her there, and it was
more than once.  Just as I would get myself under control, another paroxysm
would take me back to the depths in an instant.  And Esther Dominik was
there, holding me in her arms and stroking my hair, comforting me,
mothering me.  I needed that touch, that connection at the moment, and my
own mother was incapable.

I did finally wear down, but the nurse stayed with me for the half hour
remaining before the doctor finally arrived.  When the doctor arrived, my
mom tried to follow him in.  I didn't want her there, and told her to get
out.  This took the doctor by surprise, but a quick glance at the nurse
prompted him to ask her to wait outside.

"Wasn't your shift over an hour ago, Esther?"

"Yes, but this young man needed me to be here.  He woke about 3 AM and
called me in to ask to have the IV removed.  From the time Mrs. Kellam
awoke, he demanded she leave.  I haven't been able to ascertain why, but
there was a name mentioned.  I assume that this person left for somewhere
else."

There it was, summed up nice and neat.  She had reasoned it all out between
my reaction to Mom and my crying fits.

"Do you want to add anything?  You can talk to me if you like.  I won't
tell your mom, seeing how you feel about her."

I thought about it for a moment.  My life was over anyway, so why not just
tell them the truth?  I told them about Pete and me from the bleachers on
Wednesday up through the events of the morning Pete left, and left nothing
out, not the fact that we were gay, nor the fact that we had decided to
wait before we had sex.  I cried several times, but not the disabling bouts
I had had earlier.  Finally, coming to the end, I stated, "But none of that
matters now.  He's gone and not coming back."

"Call Psyche and see if you can get Dr. Rasek to come up and visit.  I
think he might be able to help you, Brian.  Tell him exactly what you told
me, okay?"  I shrugged.  "He can't help you unless you tell him the truth.
Now let's see that IV.  I think we can take it out, now that you are awake
and can feed yourself.  I'll be back in this afternoon to check on you."

"I can't leave today?"

"Nope.  You were effectively comatose for three days.  We have to make sure
that there is nothing seriously wrong, and that means a minimum of 24 hours
observation, maybe longer depending on what we find."

"I don't want my mom or dad in here at all then.  They betrayed me, and I
don't want to see them."

"You're sure?  I see.  Is there anyone else you want me to call?"

"Danny Trask.  He's a policeman.  You can try his home number first, then
try the station."  I gave them the numbers.  "Thank you for understanding.
Not many people take what I have to say seriously."

The doctor took my wrist and removed the IV.  Finally.  I hated the feeling
of cool fluid entering through the IV.  Have I mentioned I despise those
things?

After removing the tube, he started out of the room.  "I'll leave
instructions at the desk that your mom and dad not be let in.  Just try to
rest for now, and I'll call Officer Trask for you."  Esther started to
follow him, but I stopped her with a word.

"Thank you for being here with me.  It means a lot.  If you weren't
here..."

"I know.  I'll be back tonight, so I'll see you then.  For now, try to
sleep, and don't let yourself get too worked up, okay?"

"I'll try."

She smiled and left the room. I could hear Mom arguing with the doctor,
stating she was my mother and she had the right to be by my side.  The
doctor said that under ordinary circumstances that would be true, but he
was of the opinion that letting her in would be detrimental to my recovery,
and if she persisted she would be escorted out of the building.  I grinned
in triumph.

About an hour after the doctor left, another nurse brought in my breakfast.
It was only hospital food, but it was the best food I had ever had,
considering my stomach had been empty for four days.  I wolfed down what
was on the tray and asked for more.  They obliged and gave me some yogurt
and a banana.  I wolfed them down too, and resigned to wait until my next
feeding frenzy at lunch.

Danny arrived shortly after ten o'clock, in uniform of course.  I don't
think he ever took a day off.

"Hey, kiddo, how are you doing?"

"Doing okay.  How are you?"

"I'm good now that you are awake. You sure you're okay?"

I nodded in the affirmative.  "Danny, I have to ask you a question."

"Shoot."

"Can I come and live with you?  I don't want to go home, I hate my parents
for not telling me he was leaving."

He looked uncomfortable.  "Brian, you have to go home.  That is where you
belong, with your mom and dad.  Try not to be too hard on us.  We made a
decision to try to protect you, and it was a mistake.  After all, we are
only human."

I realized what he meant by including himself in those statements.

"You knew too!"  He nodded.

"I knew Saturday when I came up to the house.  That was what I was arguing
with her about.  I wanted to tell you boys, but she forbade it."

"You knew and you still didn't tell us?!  I thought you of all people would
realize how we felt!  You saw us, you said you were there for us, but you
betrayed us just like mom and dad did!"

"Brian..."

"No!  Just get out.  I don't want to see you.  Go away."

He looked deep in my eyes and sighed heavily.  I could see pain in his.
"I'm still here if you need anything."

"How can I believe that now?  After you betrayed me you expect me to trust
you?  Just get out."

He looked at me once more and shook his head.  "I'm truly sorry, Brian.  If
I had it to do over, I would tell you.  I'm sorry."  He left and shut the
door quietly.  I was crying again.

The door opened not more than a minute after Danny left.  I could still
hear his voice outside talking to someone.  Some doctor in a lab coat
walked in and introduced himself as Dr. Rasek.

"How are you, Brian?"

"I'm fine," I said as I tried to hide my tears.

"Your chart says that you had a seizure a few days ago and came here
comatose.  Do you remember what happened right before your seizure?"

"Yeah.  My boyfriend was taken from me."

"Boyfriend?  You think you're gay?"

"I am gay."

"Well, you're too young to know that for sure yet.  Why did you feel this
other boy was your boyfriend?"

"Pete WAS my boyfriend.  We came out to each other on Friday and we got
really close in those few days."

"How long were you together as a couple?"

"Four days.  Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.  His mom took him away
on Sunday morning, early, like six-thirty.  I broke down in the driveway,
so I'm told.  I don't remember anything after that until I woke up this
morning."

"Hmm.  You think you loved him?"

"I do love him.  I don't think it, I know I do."

"I believe you're not old enough to know adult love.  It was probably just
a crush that felt like what you imagine love to be.  Some boys have sexual
encounters with other boys and grow up to be healthy heterosexuals."

"What kind of a shrink are you?  You are treating me no better than anyone
else.  I am serious about what I am saying and you are dismissing my
thoughts and feelings."  A nurse picked that moment to walk in, and I think
what she had heard so far was shocking her.  "I'm going to tell you the
same thing I told my parents.  GET OUT!  I don't want to talk to you or see
you any more.  If you can't take what I have to say seriously, I can't
trust you.  So, just go back to where you came from."  I turned my head
away pointedly, crossed my arms and didn't respond to his apologies and
pleas for my attention.  After a few minutes, he gave up and left, seeing
me as a hopeless case, no doubt.

The nurse then took it upon herself to lecture me on my manners and how I
treat the doctors.  So I screamed at her too.  She just got angry and
lectured me all the more until I asked to see her supervisor.  The she
turned white and left. These people will learn not to fuck with me.  The
supervisor did come in, and I told her that if the nurses couldn't take me
seriously, I didn't want them in my room.  I think I surprised her, but she
told me she agreed I had the right to voice my concerns.  I had no more
problems in the hospital like those I had with Rasek and that nurse.

The rest of the day went by smoothly.  People knew I wanted to be left
alone, and unless they had to come in to take vitals or draw blood, stayed
out, which was fine with me.  Six o'clock rolled around and shortly after,
Esther came in.  She told me she had made arrangements to stay with me for
a while, until I fell asleep anyway.  She was good to her word, sitting
with me and telling me of her life, her experiences with love lost and how
she got over it with time.  I cried a bit during our conversation, and she
held me again.  About nine I started to get tired and I drifted off the
sleep in her arms.

I awoke the next morning at seven thirty, when the doctor came in and
checked me out.  He said I was well enough to go home as soon as someone
showed up to drive me.  I told him I'd walk, and he said I couldn't; he had
to release me to an adult.  Danny showed up at eight fifteen, met me in my
room, and followed me out to his car as the nurse wheeled me out.  They
must have made special arrangements for Danny to pick me up.  Mom or Dad
should have been here, but obviously I wasn't important enough for them to
take the time to pick me up.

The drive was excruciating.  Danny kept apologizing, going on and on about
how they made a mistake, that they were very sorry, and would I try to
forgive them?  I didn't respond, the hurt was still too fresh.

I steeled myself against coming home to the last place I had seen Pete.  I
didn't die when I turned the corner, but I did feel a lump in my throat.
Danny left me in the driveway with the reminder he was there if I wanted to
talk or anything.  I just nodded, already focusing on going in the house.

When I opened the door, I could see Mom and Dad standing behind the couch.
It was obvious to me they wanted to rush me, to put their arms around me
and squeeze me to death.  I honestly can't say what I would have done if
they had.  Dawn was sitting in the dining room, looking on with curiosity.

"Welcome home, son." Dad spoke first.  I could tell it was an effort for
him.  Mom started to say something, but I interrupted her.

"I know why you did what you did, but it still feels like a betrayal.  I
can't easily forgive that, and it will take time.  Don't push me."

Mom and Dad looked at each other.  I'm not sure if they expected this
reaction to coming home.  Mom asked, "May I give you a hug?"  She looked
worried, fragile.

I resist my gut reaction to turn her down.  I did have to live there, after
all.  I nodded, and she came over to me, looking in my eyes.  She got on
her knees, wrapped me in her arms and repeated the words, "My poor baby,"
over and over. I didn't respond to her, staring at my father.  He stared
back at me, sadness and regret etched on his face.  He spoke again.

"Brian, please believe we're sorry.  We didn't realize that you felt as
strongly as you did.  If we had, we would have acted differently."  I
separated myself from my mom.

"You know why you didn't realize?  You didn't listen to me.  I told you
twice in two days.  I told you Friday night, and I told mom again Saturday
night just before I left, when you told me I was imagining things!"

"Will someone tell me what happened?  I hate being in the dark."  Dawn
piping up from the dining room. We all ignored her.

"Brian..."

"You never take anything I say seriously, otherwise you would have known
how we felt. I may be twelve, but I'm more grown up than a lot of adults I
know.  And since when is age the determining factor on what a person can
feel?  Do I have to be fourteen before I can experience love?  Sixteen?
Twenty?"  I stopped my tirade.  Mom was tearing up and Dad looked to be
retreating into his shell.

"Brian has a girlfriend?"  Dawn again.

"Dawn, this is none of your business, leave it alone.  And don't pester
Brian.  If I hear of you bothering him, I'll ground you.  No ifs, ands, or
buts."

"But..."

"What did I just say?"

"Yes, dad."

I turned and went to my room.  No one objected.

I never really did forgive them, but we managed a livable, if tense,
relationship.  Time started to slip by faster and faster.  I realized one
day that my room reminded me of Pete and our last talk.  It made me
miserable, so I started spending my time with Chris.  I convinced him to
teach me how to work out, and we started working out on a daily basis, from
bike riding, to running, to weights, sports, swimming, you name it.  I
threw myself at everything he came up with, because it distracted me from
my pain.

Kathlene became my mom.  She treated me like a kid when called for,
correcting me when I was in the wrong, and she treated me as an adult when
I really needed her to.  She was everything to me that my parents weren't.
She listened carefully and took what I said seriously.  She encouraged me
to grow, both mentally and otherwise.  She also insisted I spend some time
at home.  I didn't like it, but I did anyway, to keep her happy.  Mostly I
stayed in my room, trying to distract myself from thinking about Pete.

I know that Kathlene was in touch with my parents, and that all three of
them were seeing a counselor to figure out how to deal with me.  For now,
Mom and Dad stayed out of my way and I stayed out of theirs.  I ignored
Dawn completely.

As I said, I spent most of my waking hours and Chris's place.  He was a
great friend.  He took me under his wing and taught me to do his exercise
routine, and he helped me to succeed.  We became close friends.  One day he
asked me what had happened that weekend, and I knew I owed him the truth
for being my friend, even if it meant losing him over it.

"Chris, I have something to tell you.  If you don't want to hang together,
I'll understand.  You see, I'm gay."

He didn't even bat an eye.  "And?"

I must have looked confused.  That wasn't the response I was expecting.

"So why would you being gay change anything?  I don't care. And don't worry
about it."  He smiled.  "Just don't come on to me, okay?"  And that was the
last either of us mentioned it.  I did tell him the complete story though,
now that I had nothing to hide.  As I told him, I teared up.

"I really loved him, Chris.  I really did, and no one took us seriously
except that bitch Brenda, and she took him away from me.  She blamed me for
making Pete gay."  I was crying openly at this point.  Chris put his arm
around my shoulders, a friend comforting a friend.

After I wound down, Chris suggested we go for a run to clear our heads.  By
this time we were running four or five miles.  I wasn't up to Chris's
caliber yet, and he had to slow his pace or leave me in the dust, but slow
he did, and spent his extra breath encouraging me and urging me on.

As the summer waned, I was still spending the vast majority of my time with
Chris, and our friendship grew.  If he was getting tired of me, he didn't
say anything, nor did Kathlene.  My mom only mentioned that I wasn't
spending enough time at home once that summer.  I pretended not to hear
her.

Football practice started, and I bullied my parents into signing the
permission slip to let me play.  I went out for the team, and to everyone's
surprise including mine, I made the team as a receiver.  Brent started
joking about me being a disposable receiver; one hit and replace me.  But,
my newfound strength and endurance served me in good stead.  I was both
fast and wiry, hard to take down, and more resilient.  I surprised myself
any number of times with the shots I took from Brent in practice (he was a
linebacker).  He finally left me alone, not going out of his way to assault
me.  Eventually, I even won one of the starting positions, and I have Chris
to thank.  I didn't tell my parents, and they never came to a game.

When school started, my birthday came and went, and I threw myself at my
class work just like I had with working out and football.  I had no free
time.  About mid-season, Chris noticed how busy I kept myself and tried to
convince me to take a break.

"Where should I slack off?  Class work? I have a real shot at a four-point
for the first time ever, so I can't slack off there.  Football?  I just got
the starting job.  I can't give that up, and I have to work out to keep it.
Maybe I'll take a break after football season."  Chris just shook his head
worriedly.

About a day after that conversation, my parents sent me to a psychologist.
They asked me to answer his questions and I did.  I told him everything was
great.  School was never better, and football was a lot of fun.  No, I
didn't spend much time at home.  I had school and football, plus I worked
out nearly every night.

The shrink asked the same question Brian had the day before.  I answered it
just the same and added, "Why change anything?  My grades are the highest
they've ever been, I love football, why change?"

"Your family misses you."  I didn't respond to that.  Why should I respond.
They betrayed me once, and I'm not willing to give them the chance to
betray me again.  The interview ended, and I never saw him again.

The home situation was tense. I pretty much ignored them all, even Dawns
efforts to get a rise out of me.  I was completely self absorbed.  They
tried to get me to take some meds at some point, even tried to force me.  I
faked it, never taking a single pill.

Danny tried to talk to me again somewhere in there, but I still blamed him
for knowing and not telling me.  I treated the same as I did my parents and
told him why.  He accepted that and said he hoped I would come to forgive
him.  His regret was real, as far as I could tell.

Football season ended and wrestling began.  I tried out for the team and
made it. So I would get up at 5:30 to be to practice by six o'clock, go to
school, do my homework with Chris, then work out until 8:30 or so, before
going home and going to bed.

I went for the 98 pound division.  Of course that meant I had to lose
between five and ten pounds before a match.  I did everything to lose that
weight, too.  Sweated it out in the hot tub, spit into a cup incessantly,
starved myself, took laxatives, everything I could think of to make weight.
I did really well for never having wrestled too.  I made it to the district
meet and lost in the semi-finals.

I held the same type of schedule through the school year, going out for
track instead of baseball, because I though I would get a better workout.
My going out for track surprised the hell out of everyone who knew me.  I
had been a baseball devotee since I could walk.

At the end of the year, I had held a 4.0 grade point, played three sports,
and worked out almost every day.  I spent the summer the same way I had
spent the previous one.  The major difference now was I was putting on
muscle now instead of just toning.  I was growing too. Not much, but I
noticed.

The following year was just like the last year, 4.0 GPA, football,
wrestling, track. I had to bump up a category in wrestling due to my muscle
mass, but I still did well.

I was in high school now, and fourteen years old.  I could tell that Mom
and Dad were worried about me, but I held it together somehow.  Looking
back on this time period, I think I was trying to destroy myself somehow
with all the activity.  I never rested, and my coaches always asked more of
me, which made me work harder. I never let them down.

The school even sent me to their shrink, but I gave her the rundown just
like I did the others.  I had some newfound respect at school.  Brent and
the pack were leaving me alone now that I played football, even going so
far as to pay me a complement now and then.  My teachers loved me because I
had come out of nowhere to get a 4.0.

Dawn was definitely taking my self imposed isolation hard.  She would give
me puppy dog eyes and try to provoke me, but I blew her off.  Mom and Dad
tried to talk to me, but I still wasn't ready to talk to them.  Mom even
begged for me to take the wrestling season off so I could rest and regroup.
I just thrust the permission sheet into her hand and asked her again to
sign it.

I wasn't sure how long they'd let me bully them.  I didn't care.  I wasn't
there much anyway. Some days when Chris would take a break, I would come up
and work out on my own. Kathlene started wondering aloud at my obsession
with working out. She was concerned too.  But I took her concern as genuine
and tied my best to explain what was going on in my head. She seemed to
understand, but I could tell she was still worried.

Chris and I took to studying on those days I worked out and he didn't.  He
would ask me questions as I lifted.  It helped me a lot now that I was in
high school.  I needed all the studying I could get to keep on top of the
classes and maintain my 4.0.

So, my freshman year came to an end.  I had lettered in wrestling (I made
it to the finals this that year) and track, which was some feat for a
freshman.  I just missed my 4.0 by one question in English.  I got a 3.96
instead because I missed that one question on the final.  I took it really
hard, like I failed completely.  Chris set me straight.  There was only one
other person who came close to me, and she had a 3.92.  So I kind of got
over it, but vowed to get a four point next year.

That summer was the same as the one before.  Same grueling schedule.  Chris
had started really noticing girls over the last couple years and he talked
about them with me.  I think he enjoyed telling me what he thought of this
one or that one.  He even tried to point out the cute guys for a while
until I told him I wasn't looking for anyone.  And I was the only gay kid I
knew about anyway.  And I was still holding out for Pete.

My sophomore year started the same way.  I played football just like usual,
but this time I earned a starting position on the varsity team.  I guess I
was finally starting to get over having lost Pete, but I still didn't talk
about him at all, and thought about him every moment.  I still had pangs,
but their intensity decreased as time went on, or I got used to them,
maybe.  I started talking to Mom and Dad, and I even let Dawn tease me a
bit.  I didn't work out every day now, taking Wednesday and Sunday off to
spend time at home.  I didn't slack off anywhere else though.  I guess you
could say I was almost content. For now....

-----------------------
Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted.  Please e-mail me at
dewey2k@yahoo.com. Flames will be deleted.

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