Date: Sun, 30 Oct 2005 16:53:57 -0500
From: S N <sum1plezzcall_911@hotmail.com>
Subject: Heavens_Just_A_Sin_Away, Chapter26

Disclaimer: This is a FICTIONAL story describing the love triangle of a
teenage boy. If you are not over 18 years of age, or if you find this type
of story offensive, or viewing this material is illegal where you are, then
refrain from reading it. The story consists of lust, passion, teenage
romance, interracial, love and all the rest of the good stuff in that
order... Prepare for sin.

                    Chapter 26: Twice - Shame on me
/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~////~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~////~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~////~~~~~

     "Syn, run for it!"

     It was Lamont screaming.  I turned to him.  For some reason I was slow
as hell.  It was like my body was getting even with me for all the times I
polluted it with liquor.  My reaction was so slow that I didn't realize how
quickly Isaac snatched me up.

     "Yah want some too?" Little Isaac said.

     I squirmed as Little Isaac held me by my collar.  He had this look in
his eye.  I had never felt so helpless as I did that moment.  As he gripped
my collar I felt low.  It was something in Little Isaac's eyes.  He made me
feel lower then life.  He looked at me as though I was nothing.

     "Please " Lamont cried, falling down in front of Little Isaac, "He's
the only friend that I have!  He doesn't have anything to do with the
clothes."

     Lamont was lying for me about the clothes.  He was begging his
stepfather.  I knew what Little Isaac planned to do to me.  He was about to
rape me.  It didn't take a lot to realize the kind of person that Little
Isaac was.  The naked way that he looked at me was belittling.  I felt my
energy being sucked out of me just in a stare.

     "Yah want some sexy too huh?" Little Lamont kept chanting and looking
towards me.

     Hell no I didn't want it.  I didn't really understand the terming of
his words but I knew in the end what they would be concluding to.

     Lamont looked up at Little Isaac, "Remember what happened last time?"

     "Fuck last time! Take of yah shirt boy!"  Little Isaac demanded of me.

     I felt so weak so useless what was coming over me?  It was almost like
Little Lamont's personality had completely overshadowed my own.

     "Please," Lamont begged.

     "Take it off!"  Little Isaac said and then quickly tore at my shirt.

     He ripped off my shirt and then I remembered a scream.

     It was a scream of pain.

     It wasn't from me.  It wasn't from Lamont.  It was a scream of pain
from Isaac.

     I quickly snapped to myself and realized what had happened.  Lamont
had hit his stepfather over the head with the metal rod.  I looked over at
the two of them.  Lamont was standing behind his stepfather.  He was
breathing hard.  He had the metal rod in his hand.  Little Isaac was
standing there.  He had screamed from the pain but he hadn't moved.

     I got up and looked at Little Isaac.  He was acting weird.  He was
looking real dizzy.  His eyes were rolling and there was blood coming from
where Lamont had hit him.  He looked almost lost.

     "Wow," I said and gave Little Lamont a gentle push.

     Like I expected, Little Isaac fell down hard.  It was almost like a
thud of some kind of lightning or something.  He fell flat on his back and
his eyes closed immediately.  My stomach turned.  I guess the term, "The
bigger they are, the harder they fall", was real.

     I looked at Lamont.  He was looking down at his stepfather with the
metal rod still in his hand.  Lamont looked pale and sick immediately.  His
stare was haunting as he stared down at his stepfather.

     "He he made me," Lamont cried, with traumatized look as he began to
explain himself.

     "Relax " I softly said and took a few steps toward him.

     "He was going to hurt you.  I didn't want him to hurt the only friend
I have left," he said, swinging the metal rod around in his hand as he
gestured with distress.

     "Give me the rod Lamont."

     "You should leave," said Lamont, while starting to cry furiously, "I
am just going to be more trouble to you."

     "No you won't," I promised and leaned in to take the rod, "Just give
me this."

     He let go of his grip around the piece of metal.  I sighed in relief
as he did so.  Lamont squatted down into this kind of fetal position where
his body withdrew.  He was still in his boxers.  I figured he was afraid
and frightened, but probably a little cold which was why he was in that
position.

     All of a sudden, I realized that I couldn't be weak.  Little Isaac had
made it so easy for me to just give in, but I understood now that giving up
was no longer an option.  I didn't ever want to be like Lamont.  I didn't
ever want to be the one crying every time someone did something bad to me.

     I had played the victim long enough.  I flipped open my cell phone.

     "Who are you calling?" Lamont panicked as I dialed the number, "Are
you calling the cops?  Oh god!"

     He started to cry harder.  Lamont was definitely panicking.  I could
tell that he had never really stood up to Little Isaac until now. I hoped
he wasn't regretting it.

     "I'm not calling the cops," I promised him, "I'm calling for some
help.

     The phone rang.  It rang twice.

     <Hello?>

     It felt good to hear the voice of Zion on the other end of the line. I
didn't know anyone else to call. I could call Sampson or T-Boy for some
support.  I could call Dr. Lopez for some advice.  Truth was, none of them
could really help me.  Only Zion truly had the potential to make a
difference.

     I told Zion the situation.  I forgot exactly what I said.  I was
rushing because Lamont was full of alarm.  He needed someone to calm him
down immediately.

     <So can you come?>

     Zion didn't hesitate to answer me back when I asked him.

     <Sure.  I'll be there any minute now.>

     Zion hadn't assured me that he could help, but then again he
definitely didn't seem all that useless either.  I figured he was the most
powerful person I knew and even though I barely knew him, he seemed to want
to help with the Yolanda/Mercedes situation so why not this one?

     "Is he dead?" Lamont asked me all of a sudden.

     I looked down at Little Isaac.  They should have changed his name to
Big Red, because there was blood all over the carpet.  I had no idea if he
was dead.  It was kind of funny situation.  How sorry could I really feel
for a guy who was a minute away from raping me?

     "No, of course not," I said, assuredly.

     I had no idea.  I didn't even want to go near it before they stuck
some O.J Simpson sequel on me.  I just stood from a distance and watched
Little Isaac.  I couldn't really tell if he was breathing or not.

     "Yes he is dead!" Lamont panicked, probably noticing my second glance,
"I killed him!  God, I didn't want to, but he was hurting you."

     "Hush now.  You did good," I said.

     Lamont was crying harder.  He was hugging himself.  I knew that I
should have walked over there and hugged him.  I should have been giving
him some comfort, but is that what Lamont really needed?  I didn't think
so.  I thought he really needed to face the harsh reality of life as it
was.  Shit wasn't fair.  If I could face it, so could he.

     "Syn, I'm sorry I got you involved with this."

     I looked at him, with his eyes full of tears, "Relax.  By the way,
where is your mother in all this?"

     He paused for a moment before answering slowly, "All those times I
made you think she was around were lies.  She never came to Brunswick.  My
ma she is in the hospital.  She is in a coma.  It happened a while ago."

     "Because of him?"

     Lamont nodded.  I looked over at Little Isaac.  If this was a murder
case, they couldn't hate us that much.  I mean; this guy wasn't some Saint
Peter.  If there were a hell, Little Isaac would be in it pillow fighting
with Hitler.  No one was going to miss this cunt

     "She never used to know he liked touching me," Lamont said softly, "My
friend noticed it and told my mother.  When he got confronted, Little Isaac
put my mother in a coma and raped my friend."

     "That's why you guys moved here huh?"

     "Yeah .he makes me feel so weak " Lamont said, sniffling with his
tears raining down the side of his face, "I had no choice."

     I knew exactly what he meant.  I had felt the same way when Little
Isaac was after me.  It had almost felt like there was no need to struggle.
He was bigger, stronger and louder.  He could overpower me easily.  I
didn't feel like that anymore.  I looked over at Little Isaac on the floor
now.  He looked smaller then a penis in the North Pole (preferably
Santa's).  I was such a weird, weird person.  I could care less about this
man.

     "Enough tears," I said sternly, "You and me.  We are similar.  We are
victims of reality.  We both have been pushed to that limit.  You walk in
my shoes now.  Reality wants us to be weak, but all we have is that sense
of survival and that nothing to lose."

     He didn't stop crying.  My words didn't comfort him.  Maybe we weren't
that similar not yet at least.  Lamont was still weak.  He still needed
that comfort that I couldn't offer him.  I wished I could be what Byron was
to Yolanda when he used to tell Yolanda that everything was going to be
good to get her out of her depression.  I couldn't be that for Lamont.  I
knew that the truth was killing Little Isaac would be the fast way out of a
desperate situation.  Did it make murder any less wrong?  No but who can
judge us if they aren't really in that situation?

     I guess I was the only victim of reality or at least I was the only
one that realized it.  All I really wanted to do was dream, the 'can't'
list was placed in front of me.  I can't be gay.  I can't be gay and
popular.  I can't be gay, popular and chasing after a guy who already has a
boyfriend.  Fuck the rules

~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~

     I sat there thinking about all that shit and more.  I call it shit,
not because it was meaningless but because like shit my thoughts only came
when I strained.  Instead of crying in bad situations, I just strained and
thought.

     "Hey," Zion said.

     He walked in all of a sudden.  I was glad to see him.  There was this
whole group of people that followed behind him.  They looked a little like
medical professionals, but then again I wouldn't have been able to tell the
difference if they didn't have a stretcher with them.

     Ms. Whyte was shouting out commands, "Open the door wide to get the
stretcher in!  Quick and clean people!  This is an emergency!  That's it
just slide it on in through the door.  Quick and clean!"

     The stretcher rolled into the house and several men were needed to
pick up Little Isaac and put him on the stretcher.  I watched in amazement
as the workers did multiple tasks at the same exact time.  They were
treating Little Isaac and moving him at the same time.

Zion walked over and put his arm around me. It felt weird.  It was almost
like he was trying to help console me.  Truth was, I wasn't the one that
needed consoling.  Lamont was having a panic attack on the middle of the
floor, but I think Zion was a little more concerned with my well doing,
which was weird.

"Is he dead?" Lamont kept asking.

Ms. Whyte shook her head, "We got some severe bleeding, but he is most
likely in a concussion.  There is nothing really serious about this wound.
All we have to do is stitch him up and he'll be ok."

I grimaced a little, "Stitch him up?  Do you have to?"

Zion laughed as though I was really joking, "Syn, we'll handle everything
from here.  You just go home and try to get some rest."

"Will I go to jail?"  Lamont asked.

He seemed like a lost little kid as though everything was just black and
white.  I didn't think that there was actually a need to explain to Lamont
about the entire court system.  It wasn't just killing someone meant going
to jail.  Shit he could of got the death penalty if he didn't plead his
case right.  I think Lamont probably got extra thick headed because he was
overwhelmed by this ordeal.

Zion shook his head, "No.  Tonight never happened."

"How?"  Lamont asked.

"Do you know who I am?" Zion said and struck another of his quick poses,
"Well, lets just say I can find a way to fix this guy up and then keep him
silent Very silent."

He sounded cocky as hell.  It seemed like every time I had a reason to
dislike Zion, I also had a bigger reason to like him.  Shit, he had saved
my ass twice now and for no clear reason except I was a friend of Sampson.

"Great.  Lamont, you can come stay at my house," I explained, not even
thinking about it, "We got enough room for you and next year we all are
going to be off to college anyway."

"But Isaac is going to come back," Lamont said, with this hesitant tone.

Zion shook his head, "No he's not.  I promise he'll be out of your hair for
now on."

I had thoughts about what Zion meant when he said that.  I wasn't really
sure who Zion was.  Part of me thought maybe he was going to pay Little
Isaac to stay away from Lamont.  Then I thought maybe he would just
threaten Little Isaac.  Seeing the resources that Zion had, it probably
wouldn't be that hard to do so.  Then the last part of me figured that
maybe Zion would actually kill Little Isaac.  I had no reason to really
think like that, but then again with all the sin that's been going around
lately it wasn't too hard to conceive.

Truth was that I didn't care what happened to Little Isaac, just as long as
I never saw him again.  Lamont had gained his composure a little bit and
started acting normal.  I had totally understood his reaction before
though.  I would have been crying too, but since I'd cried over Shane's
death it seemed like nothing could be worth crying over anymore.

     "Thanks," I told Zion as he left.

     I didn't want to overextend my gratitude even though I knew that I
should have.  He had bailed me out of two hard situations.  It seemed like
since Zion was here, all the little troubles were just being swept away so
that he could deal with them.  It was like I had no problems at all.

     "Anytime," he said with this glint in his eye, "You know I was
surprised when you called me. It was a pleasant surprise though.  I knew
you'd come around "

     He knew I would?  Was it so clear to him that I would always get in
trouble and come crawling to him for assistance?

     "Yeah well, I don't know," I said, trying to be grateful, "You
definitely been saving my ass lately."

     "Ha, well that's my job," he said and then winced a little in his
eyes, "I can save your ass in more then one way, if you want that is."

     I looked at him sideways, "What did you just say?"

     Was he flirting with me?  It sounded like was making some rude
reference to anal sex.  Shit, I had no idea at all.  He was standing real
close to me and he was speaking low like in the flirtatious tones that
people used.  Lamont was nearby, but he didn't hear.  Ms. Whyte had carried
the body off in an emergency truck already.  The rest of Lamont's people
were packing up their tools and on their way out.

     "Relax don't bite my head off," Zion lightheartedly said, "I was
joking. I'm straight, besides Sampson already has that job doesn't he?"

     What would make him think that?

     "Sampson and I are not "

     I paused.  Oh shit! I'd forgot.  We were.  We actually just had sex a
couple hours ago at the mall.  I knew my pause had caught Zion off guard
and it caused him to laugh a little as he did it.  It was a weird laugh
almost like he wasn't at all surprised.  This guy was just full of
improbability.

     "You aren't into Sampson?" he sarcastically asked, laughing because I
hadn't finished and he knew he caught me in a lie.

     "No " I said, coughing a little, "Of course not."

     "Well then you and I can go out sometime," Zion said, not even asking.
He was sort of stating it.

     "I thought you were straight."

     "Yeah I am, but I know you have a little crush on Sampson," Zion
explained, "And since Sampson and I are identical, then you have a crush on
me too most likely."

"What?"

"Hey, it's cool with me.  I'm used to people having a crush on me."

     "What what the hell are you talking about "

     "No, no," he said and nodded his head, dramatically, "I think the best
way to deal with your crush on me is to go on a little date.  I mean it's
for you.  It will probably make you feel more secure in your crush."

     "Is this your way of asking me out?" I asked, getting a little
interested, "If so, you can just say so."

     He laughed and told me the time he wanted me to get with him.  He was
a joker.  It was almost like he was playing with me. I didn't mind going
out with him since he had planned it during school hours.  I just figured
that I wouldn't go to school tomorrow.  Hell, I could miss one day of
school without all hell breaking loose.

     "I'll see you tomorrow," Zion said and then added, "By the way, don't
tell anyone about what happened here tonight.  It's for the best."

     I wasn't sure if he was talking about when Lamont had knocked out his
stepfather or about him asking me out.  Either way, I didn't mind.  I
wasn't someone who liked to broadcast my business anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     "Syn, wake up," a voice said.

     I stirred awake.  It was Yolanda.  She was all dressed for school with
her normal bright colors.  Today she was wearing this extremely pink hood
with pink shoes.  She was real tomboyish in a girly way, which was hard to
describe.  She was like one of those bubblegum girls that always used to
ride on the backseat of the motorcyclists in those 1950 gang movies.

     "Why are you in my room?"

     "I was knocking for the longest time," Yolanda explained, "You just
didn't hear me."

     I moaned a little bit, trying to stretch, "I had a long night."

     Truth was that I hadn't even remembered how the night had ended.  I
had been so exhausted.  I remember Zion leaving from Lamont's house.  Then
Lamont locked his house and the two of us came over to my house.  Then I
guess I just went upstairs and went to sleep.  I knew Lamont came to my
house but I had no idea where he slept.

     "I could tell, your weird friend is here," Yolanda said and smiled
briskly, "I like him he's cute.  T-Boy doesn't really seem to like him
though.  Byron is talking his head off.  He is so cute!"

     "Lamont, you mean?"

     "Yeah him," she said giggling, "T-Boy is going to drive all of us to
school soon, so you should get ready."

     I shook my head, "I'm not going."

     "Aw, that sucks," Yolanda explained and then tugged at me, "You should
come you'll get to see Sampson."

     She winked happily and began this series of girlish chortles that made
me want to smack her back to the first grade where she would probably feel
at home.  Still, even though the way she spoke was childish, she seemed to
be saying something that was really on point.

     "What makes you think I want to see him?" I asked, not exactly in a
way to degrade him, but actually questioning her thought process.

     "Hey, its clear you guys had something going on when I was in my
stage."

     Her stage was another word for the trauma she was in when she was
acting like a lemon.  I knew that she had to be hearing and understanding a
lot more things in her weird stage then I actually thought in the first
place.  It had to be something crazy.

     "Wow."

     She nosily leaned into me as though peering through me, "Am I wrong?"

     "No," I said, turning my head away in thought, "Not entirely."

     "C`mon tell me!" Yolanda begged immediately, "I know Sampson.  I dated
him for god sakes.  It was short, but I learned a lot.  I know when he
likes someone.  Something had to happen by now.  Just tell me what it is."

     I didn't know how she had come to the conclusion that there was
actually something to tell.  I didn't know that my feelings toward Sampson
were actually that clear.  I didn't publicly flirt with him or anything
like that.  I wondered if Yolanda was recognizing the feelings that Sampson
had for me while they had a relationship resurfacing.

     "Why would I do something as stupid as that?" I ask her, looking in
her eyes with all sobriety.

     "Syn, maybe I can help you out."

     I looked at her sideways, "You?"

     The way I said it was clear for her to understand.  It was bullshit
for her to help me.  She could hardly help herself.  She had done all that
crazy shit to me in the past anyway.  She had betrayed me and started this
whole dilemma with Mercedes.  Yolanda was one of the shady ones.

     "Syn, you are family to me," she said, staring close in my eyes, "You
put me up in your house for free.  You took care of me when I was in my
stage.  You even looked for me when I was kidnapped now its time for me to
do something for you."

     I looked at her.  She looked real sincere.  She had this poignant look
of endearment that made me think that maybe Yolanda and I could actually
start that relationship between cousins that we never had.  Maybe this
would actually be the second chance.

     I silently whispered, "Ok well, Sampson wants Byron, but I know he
wants me too."

     "Did he say it?"

     "Well, its obvious," I explained, "We were in a dressing room at mall
and well "

     "What happened?" she asked and then leaned in closer to make me more
comfortable, "Its cool Syn, maybe you can trust me.  Maybe I can help be
that listening ear for you.  Kind of like Shane was."

     Shane.  He had wanted Sampson and I to be together. He loved me to
tell him stories of my interactions with Sampson.  Shane never interrupted
me with his own life stories.  I guess he found mine more interesting.  He
was the best friend someone could have. It definitely did feel good to have
someone like Shane again just to listen.

     "Sampson and I basically were having sex there," I shared.

     Her mouth dropped, "Seriously?"

     "Yeah," I said and my face wrinkled up, "I don't know if I should keep
trying with him though.  I want him, but its clear that he has a boyfriend.
What's the point?"

     "True, plus Byron is your friend."

     She was definitely giving a good reason.  I looked at her.  Maybe she
did know what she was talking about.  It unquestionably sounded like
something Shane would have added.  Byron's friendship was an accurate
factor.

     "So you think I should fall back off Sampson a little?"  I asked,
"Maybe till he figures out what he wants."

     I couldn't believe I was asking Yolanda for an opinion.

     "I don't know, follow your heart," Yolanda told me.

     I sucked me teeth to acknowledge that she had lost me.  The way she
said it made it sound so clich‚.  This wasn't some fairytale.  I bet Disney
never had a gay story before. I didn't need to be told to follow my heart.

     "I see.  Damn, look at the time," I said noticing it for her, "T-Boy
is probably going to be heated if you don't get going."

     She looked at the time and jumped up to her feet because she
immediately noticed how right I was.  T-Boy got really mad over two things;
he got mad if he told him to do something when he was in his lazy mode and
he got mad when you made him wait for too long.

     "I'd better hurry," she said and then added, "Thanks for trusting me.
You have no idea how much it means that you have started helping me regain
that trust."

     She kissed me on my cheek before leaving.  As she left I wondered if
she was going to be posting around "BFF" signs around my house or what not.
She definitely seemed to believe in all that stuff. She was the real mushy
type.  I was beginning to get used to the idea though, probably because she
was like a female version of Byron in some ways or at least she was the
female version of the nice guy Byron was working hard to be (I was sure he
was still trying to change his ways from the whole hardcore escort life).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~

     I had went back to sleep, but woke up later that afternoon to get
ready for my lunch with Zion.  T-Boy had actually left me a letter on the
mantle complaining about Lamont's presence in the house.  He acted like he
paid the bills in the house.  My uncle was basically letting us all live in
the house for free.  The only thing T-Boy really did was own the only car
of the house.  I wasn't even too dependent on that both because Sampson was
always over the house and Sampson had a car.  T-Boy definitely wasn't as
important as he made himself out to be.

     I arrived at Fornelli's restaurant to meet with Zion.  It was a diner
downtown.  It was kind of fancy and I was grossly underdressed.  I didn't
mind though.  The hell with it, I just wanted to food anyway.

     "Hey, over here," Zion said, calling me from deeper within the
restaurant.

     I went to sit with him.  He had on this nice suit and I had on a
basketball jersey with my favorite team logos stitched on it.  He didn't
seem to notice or at least seemed to want me not to see that he noticed my
attire.

     We ordered.  I forgot exactly what I ordered because it had taken so
long for it to cook, but when they came back it seemed like I had ordered
way too little.  The little I had seemed a lot to what Zion was eating.  It
was like he was eating some kind of snack or something.

     "You eat a lot," Zion told me, as he watched me eat.

     He was watching me a lot as I chewed my food.  He looked turned off by
it.  We hadn't exchanged many words.  It was just basically awkward glances
back and forth.  Finally I could see he was expressing his thoughts.

     "I sort of noticed that," I kind of snapped back.

     I could of said something harsher, but truth was I didn't have money
on me to pay for this and if he got mad at me for any reason, I would not
be the one stuck with the bill.

     "Yeah," Zion explained and then smiled, "You should slow down.  Enjoy
the food.  Its quality and not quantity."

     It was unnerving just watching this rich, spoiled guy giving me eating
tips and watching me like I was in some kind of etiquette class.  I paused
for a moment, wanting the moment to pass and drank from the glass of water
that was in front of me.  He was embarrassing me with this whole
superiority complex he had.

     "I'm dedicating it to the children in the school cafeteria, eating
that school lunch," I joked.

     I was trying to make him ease up of me and it worked.  He laughed a
little.  It wasn't really a courtesy joke but it wasn't really a joke that
had actually tickled him.  It was a joke that lay in between the two.

     "I feel obliged that you would actually skip school to hang out with
me," Zion said, with that cockiness rising up in him again.

     "You act like it's a big thing," I said and shook my head, "No, I'm
glad to skip school.  You see, I been thinking this theory.  I've been
thinking that school is a plot by the government.  They completely bore us
for 12 years (13 if you add kindergarten) of our lives.  When we graduate,
we are so happy to be out that we don't realize that the government has
brainwashed us with any beliefs that they picked and chose."

     "Are you serious?"

     He was laughing.  It wasn't disheartening that he was actually
laughing at me.  Shit, he was part of the system, even though he dropped
out of high school to run this little business of his.

     "Of course I am.  The theory is a little rough, but I'm working on
it," I answered and then completely putting it aside to enjoy my meal.

     "You are so weird," he explained.

     I nodded, "Normality is myth.  It all ties into what I said.  The
government uses schools to indicate what being normal is."

     He laughed, again.  I knew he was listening to what I was saying but
sort of excusing them or finding them so diverse that he got humor out of
it.  I didn't mind.

     "You are definitely abnormal.  I mean; you are gay, rebellious,
stubborn and all the other things that an All- American boy shouldn't be."

     "I'm all the things that no one wants their child to be," I explained,
"I know there are more like me.  Its like people who are gay but are afraid
to admit it to their self.  There is so much normality that if someone is
actually an individual, they would try to hide it to keep being normal."

     He stopped laughing, but still had this expression on his face like I
was entertaining him.  Shit, at least he wasn't arguing or criticizing my
ideas like Byron would.  I didn't mind if he found me a little funny.

     "I appreciate your point of view," Zion complimented me, "Its like a
breath of fresh air sometimes. I just wish I could afford to be as free as
you are."

     He saw me as free?  No I wasn't free yet.  I was working on that.

     "You can be whatever you want to be," I influenced.

     "No I can't," Zion said and then spread his arms out as though putting
himself on display, "Look at me.  I am the image that attracts investors.
They wanted me as head of their business because I was the 'face of
tomorrow'.  I have to be the definition of normality."

     "Well now that you are leader, you can express yourself however you
feel."

     Zion disagreed with me, "No, I can't.  I told you before.  I am just
the figurehead.  The Syndicate is capable of a lot of resources that I
don't even have knowledge of."

     "Well, on paper you are the leader," I explained, "Maybe you should
start acting like one."

     "Acting? That's just it. I'm tired of acting," Zion explained, "I'm in
way over my head on this one.  Holden was supposed to be the leader of the
Syndicate organization.  I don't have the brains for this kind of thing.  I
can just act like I do. "

     Shit, he was right.  He was a dumb ass for trying to take Holden's
place in a position that seemed as important as being the figurehead of a
million dollar organization.

     "If you don't think you can handle it, then why did you impersonate
Holden?"

     "Well Holden didn't want to do it," Zion continued to clarify, "That
is part of the reason that my mother put him up for adoption, well plus the
gay thing.  See for me, it was never a problem.  I was born and raised in
the drama club.  If I don't know anything else, I know how to act."

     "Your mother definitely seems like the caring type," I said,
sarcastically.

     "She loves me.  It's just that she doesn't really know me.  I'm afraid
she might not love the real me.  I don't know.  It's hard.  I guess, its
just easy being normal.  I guess its just easy acting normal."

     I realized the type of person that Zion was.  I didn't like that he
was that type of person but I understood it.  He found the easy way out of
things.  It might have been the smart thing to do.  To me, this was bigger
then Zion impersonating his brother. The act of Zion always 'acting' was a
metaphor for all the people who just gave up on being their own individual.
Zion was living through his mother's expectations and worldly prospect.

     I didn't say much more the entire meal.  I learned a little bit more
about the type of person Zion was.  I also understood why Sampson didn't
like him.  Zion came off as the spitting image of the perfect child and
Sampson most likely resented that.  Sampson however didn't realize that
Zion was really acting the entire time.

     We talked the rest of the afternoon on other issues.  He gave me the
normal view of looking at topics and I gave him my individualistic view.
We didn't argue exactly.  We just shared views.  I appreciated the entire
talk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~///~~~~~~~~~

     I left Zion after understanding him a little bit more but still not
forming an actual opinion of him.  I still wasn't sure if he was gay or
not.  I now understood that he was acting but I still was unsure of who he
was underneath his act.  However, I began to think that if you wore a mask
long enough, your face might begin to develop the features of that mask.
Maybe Zion was that All-American poster child now.  I didn't know.

     I walked home.  It was 2:30 and I knew that T-Boy, Yolanda and Lamont
would be home.  I figured that Byron would have something set for us to eat
(like usual) and then I would probably help Lamont move some of his stuff
from in his house to my house.

     It was completely different.

     "Look it's Syn," the voice of this one girl, Monica said, loud enough
for me and a lot of other people who were standing close by to hear.

     My front lawn was crowded with a couple of people.  They all looked
real gossipy when I started walking close by. I noticed some unwelcome
faces among the crowd like Big Rob and Erica standing around my porch
having a conversation.  Then I noticed Sydney (T-Boy's little play thing).
I wondered what the hell all those people were doing around my house when
it was a perfectly normal afternoon where they could be doing anything.

     I walked to my steps, giving each one of them eye contact.  The
whispers were getting more and it didn't seem to matter to them that I was
right there.  They gave each other weird looks, said some things and then
stared at me for a moment.

     "How disgusting " I heard Sydney say.

     I turned back and noticed her looking right at me.  Her eyes were
connected to mine and I immediately knew she was talking to them about me.
She tried to look away when our eyes connected but it was way too late.

     "Don't talk about your mother like that," I dissed Sydney.

     She rolled her eyes, "Whatever you say, Mr. Nasty."

     I was shocked.  Sydney would never act that way to me. I was a friend
T-Boy who she basically worshipped since forever.  She never talked back to
me when I used to verbally wound her before.  What was so different now?

     "You anorexic little slut!"  I roared, "Get the fuck off my property
before I call the cops. All of you get the fuck off!"

     They stood up in front of my porch laughing like I was joking.

     Big Rob twisted his head, "We are on the sidewalk.  What are they
going to do?"

     "I'll do something my damn self then!"

     I took a few steps towards Big Rob and he didn't back away.  I didn't
think he would.  He was like 10 inches taller then me.  I was so pissed
that I could actually care less if he beat my ass.  I had so much built up
anger towards the people in Brunswick that I just wanted to take it out in
anyway that I could.  I felt like fighting everyone that was there and
there had to be at least a dozen or more people.

     At that moment, T-Boy came out the house.  I expected him to break up
the little conflict and tell them to go home while trying to calm me down
like usual.  That wasn't exactly what happened.  T-Boy pulled me away from
them but not far enough that they couldn't hear what we were saying if they
wanted to.

     "What the hell is going on?" I asked him immediately, "You have all
these assholes around the house like this is some kind of zoo."

     T-Boy didn't seem to even be listening to what I was saying.  He
seemed to have his mind concentrating on something completely different.
He looked angry and just sad at the same time.  It was the weirdest
expression.

"I can't believe you."

     "What is going on?" I asked, watching his dramatic behavior, "The last
time I saw you like this was when Shane died.  Oh god, no one died did
they?"

     "No! No one died!"

     He looked like he was restraining himself from going completely
berserk.  I kept watching his fist balled up and kept hoping that he didn't
hit me.  My confusion was so fully enlaced that I didn't even know what to
say.

     "So why are you screaming?" I asked

     He shook his head, "I can't believe you are acting like you don't know
what all this is about.  The whole entire school knows and you are still
trying to hide it."

     "The entire school knows what?" I asked.

     He kept shaking his head more and more, "You don't know how mad I am.
God, I just need you to tell me why.  WHY!"

     I walked away.  I didn't have time for his meaningless bullshit and I
knew that it would probably take forever to find out what the hell he was
talking about if I stood there.  He kept screaming back for me with the
same angry tone but I completely muted it out.

     I went inside the house looking for someone who was a little less
emotional then T-Boy was.  Yolanda and Lamont were standing in the kitchen.
I figured Yolanda had cooked something because they both were eating and
Lamont didn't come across as the cooking type.  When I walked in, it seemed
as though this whole shadow of awkwardness had trailed me from T-Boy to in
here.

     "Hey guys I think T-Boy is on drugs," I said with a slight laugh as I
went in the kitchen for something to drink, "I think he found your stash
Yolanda."

     I had not confirmed that Yolanda took drugs, but I was really getting
close to suspecting it.  Yolanda was always hyperactive and happy.  I knew
there was a drug out there that made people like that.  It just seemed
weird to me that she was constantly this way.  The oddest thing was that
she also never denied taking drugs.

     "Tommy's just fine, I think," Yolanda softly said while giving me a
half smirk.

     "What is everyone talking about?"

     I looked at Lamont.  He didn't say anything.  He just looked over at
Yolanda.  She was just staring out into the blue.  It was like everyone got
high off Yolanda's stash or something.  Everyone was just acting so weird
all of a sudden and no one seemed to want to tell me what was happening.

     I rolled my eyes and turned to go upstairs.  I watched at T-Boy was
standing at the bottom of the stairs.  He looked me dead in my eyes.  I
could see that he was crying all of a sudden.

     "I want you back, Syn," he said, "I'm sorry for yelling at you.  I I
just want you back so much."

     T-Boy wasn't crying, but he had that heartrending tone that made me
believe that he must have been overwhelmed with emotions.  He seemed way
too emotional to really know what he was saying.

     I had no idea what he was saying, but it was one of the nicest things
he'd said in a while.  He looked real handsome too while he stood in that
position.  His hands were in his pockets and he was giving me this
bright-eyed stare. It looked like he had dropped the entire ideal guy image
to show this light of true humanity.  I loved it.

     "T-Boy what's up with you today?"

     "Just say you don't still feel passionately about me and I will never
bother you again about the topic."

     I breathed heavily.  T-Boy just standing there was enough to make me
want to just give up this whole 'self- discovery' thing and be together
again.  It would have been the easiest thing to do instead of being the guy
Sampson was cheating on his boyfriend with.

     "I do care ."

     CLASH!

     I jerked my head away from T-Boy as I heard the clash from upstairs.
What the hell was that?  I wanted to finish talking to him about it and I
could see he was probably pissed about the distraction, but I was really
curious about the noise.

     Well, maybe I just needed a way to escape.  I felt something for T-Boy
still.  I wasn't sure what it was, but it was definitely something.  I was
sure I had a physical attraction to T-Boy and that would probably always be
there since he had my personal idea of the best looking face of any guy I'd
seen (including Hollywood).

     "Syn, come on.  Ignore that," he said desperately and walked over to
me.

     He held my hands.  His hands felt so soft in mine and he was clearly
trying his best to look hot.  He had accomplished it too.  He was wearing a
wife beater with his muscles showing.
  His tight body was only inches away from mine and I wanted nothing more
then to touch him.  I wanted him so badly but I don't know.

     "I'll talk to you later about it," I said, "I just got to go see what
that is really quick."

     I made my way upstairs leaving T-Boy just standing there helplessly.
At the top of the stairs I saw some broken pieces of paintings that were
around the house for decoration.  The paintings were fake, but I still
didn't appreciate shit being thrown around the house.  I heard this
arguing.  It was coming from down the hall towards the bedroom that Byron
slept in.  Byron definitely had the smallest room in the entire house, but
also the one closest to the upstairs bathroom.

     "Fuck you! I'm leaving!"  Byron said.

Byron was packing his bags and Sampson was standing nearby trying to keep a
calm.  Byron had so many clothes that came along with his pretty boy
Abercrombie image.  I couldn't believe he was just tossing them in a
suitcase like that.  I saw that Byron's eyes were full of tears and he
looked angry as hell.  Sampson looked a little sad and desperate.  I could
see that the broken decorations were most likely from Byron throwing them
at Sampson.

I walked into the room and looked around, "What the hell is going on here?"

These were two grown ass men.  Neither of them were females.  They could
argue without having to throw things.  Then again it was Byron.  He
definitely had his feminine tendencies and bitterness seemed like one of
them.

"Syn you had sex with my boyfriend?" Byron asked, "I can't believe you.
Don't even try to deny it because the truth has already been exposed."

I looked over at Sampson.  I couldn't believe he told Byron that!

Sampson seemed to read my mind and said, "You told Yolanda about what
happened in the dressing room and Yolanda basically told everyone else in
the school."

My mouth dropped.  I couldn't believe it.  All the "you can trust me"
pieces of crap she fed me and she just told what I said to the entire
school.  Even though Sampson and I had never agreed to silence, I still
felt bad for being the one to tell Yolanda.  He seemed a little weary about
it too, but I wasn't sure.  I couldn't tell.  He just seemed so worried
about what was going on with Byron at the time.

"I trust people and I get gutted," Byron complained, "Every time, this has
to happen. I'm through with love.  I don't know how I have ever loved you
Sampson."

Sampson tried to put his arm around Byron, "Don't say that."

"I meant it!" Byron said pulling away, "I open my heart to you and you go
behind my back to fuck my best friend in a fucking dresser room!"

"Best" friend?  What world was he living in?  I never considered Byron my
best friend.  Byron was definitely a Drama Queen.  I could see no other
word to describe it.  Byron and Sampson weren't going out for 'that' long
of a time to be so emotional.  Byron was acting like his husband was
cheating on him or something.

"No it was just oral," Sampson said and then looked at me, "It was an
accident, just out of sexual frustration.  Right Syn?"

What?

"Uh-huh," I said quietly, not wanting to hurt Sampson's relationship
anymore, if there was any relationship left.

"Please, Byron it was just some head," Sampson explained.

"Sampson, ok, ok," I said, realizing he was slowly crossing the line, "I
understand you not wanting to hurt Byron, but you shouldn't lie to him or
anything."

Byron seemed to get alert at the moment, "What?"

He had finished packing his bags and was trying to close his suitcase when
he turned around to ask the question.  I looked over at Sampson.  Even now
I could tell that what had happened back then wasn't just any normal sex.

"Ok," Sampson said softly, "I admit that Sampson and I have this kind of
strong sort of connection, but its not as serious as it sounds!"

     Byron's mouth dropped open.  He was overreacting so much.  He looked
over at me and I just shrugged my shoulders.  Byron looked like he was just
about to quote monologues out of Passions or General Hospital or some other
soap opera.  I wasn't sure if Byron really wanted to act like this or if he
thought this was how he was expected to act.  Byron started crying again
and shivering his body like he was in some kind of pain.

     "What kind of boyfriend are you?" Byron asked Sampson and then turned
to me, "What kind of friend are you, Syn?"'

     "Please baby " Sampson said, trying to grab hold to the rejecting hand
of Byron

     I stood by and shrugged, "Hey, everyone makes mistakes."

     "Mistakes?"  Byron said, "Slipping and falling is a
mistake. Forgetting to wear the same color socks is a mistake.  Giving head
to my boyfriend in a stall is not a mistake!"

Shit, he convinced me.  I agreed, "He's right."

I mean, I could call what had happened in the dressing room a lot of
things, but mistake wouldn't be one of them.  If I could go back, the only
thing that I would have changed is actually finishing the job that I had
started.  I could still taste the dick on my lips.  It was something sweet.

I shut up on the probability that I was just making it worse for Sampson
even though I didn't really want Byron to forgive him.

"Byron, just give me one more chance," Sampson begged, "Please Ronnie."

Ronnie?  They had actually made nicknames for each other.  This was
probably the best-developed 3-week relationship that I'd ever seen.

"No 'please Ronnie' now," Byron said, spectacularly, "Why would you do this
to me?  Is it because I didn't suck your dick?"

"No!  What Syn and I have is I don't know," Sampson defended himself, "I
thought it was love at one time.  I thought it was just physical attraction
at another.  Now I'm not sure what Syn and I have, but what happened
between us was not because of something you did wrong."

I wasn't sure if that made Byron feel better or worse.  It made me feel a
hell of a lot better though.

"Its stupid to leave anyway," I stated, bluntly.

"Why?  You two are having sex now," Sampson explained, "I guess since you
guys have this 'connection', I should just step aside and let it happen!"

I guess so.

"Well its not about us, its about you," I explained, "Why would you leave a
place that you aren't paying any bills on?  My uncle has us in here for
free.  It just seems stupid to me."

"You calling me stupid now!"

I yawned and just gave up.  He had to be trying to win an Oscar or
something. He wasn't even listening to good reasoning anymore.  I guess I
didn't know how he felt though.  T-Boy had never cheated on me.

     Byron walked past me with his suitcase and I let him go.  Sampson had
to jump in his path though.  It was real romantic.  It actually made me
think of the kind of person that Sampson was.  He really cared.  He wasn't
just putting on a front.  He really did care about Byron.

     "Byron, listen to Syn," Sampson agreed with me, "You can't leave.
Where are you going to go?  You going to go back to escorting?"

     "Shut up, you never even cared about me," Byron bitterly noted.

     "How can you say that?"  Sampson asked, "You are the first guy that I
had a relationship with.  You brought me out of the closet.  Of course I
care about you."

Sampson looked really hurt by the comment.  I felt kind of bad too, but
just because Sampson was hurt by it.  It seemed like Byron was just lashing
out at Sampson and making him feel bad now.  Byron was dramatic and Sampson
was the type to be affected by dramatics.  Sampson really was sympathetic
and it seemed like Byron's words were piercing through him.

"Fine, let me make it simple.  Who do you care about more?"  Byron asked,
looking at the door, "Syn or me?"