Date: Sat, 23 Jan 2010 09:53:17 -0500 From: Jade <phantomscorpio77@gmail.com> Subject: Gay/High School : If You Could Read My Mind This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to any person, place, or written works are purely coincidental. It may contain consensual sex between young men. Do not read if you find that objectionable or if it is illegal for you to view this content for whatever the reason. Copyright 2010 Jade. All Rights Reserved. Do not post, copy, or use this story in any manner without my permission. Always love to hear from you, please let me know what you think! [Feedback is the only way writers can tell how they are doing.] Direct any comments / criticism / feedback / suggestions to: phantomscorpio77@gmail.com. >>).:.(<< If You Could Read My Mind Sitting as far away from his classmates as possible Neville Reilly groans inside when he accidentally makes eye contact with a kid he'd never seen at school before. And yes, Neville knows all the guys his age at school and most in town by sight. An unchecked appreciation of his male peers is what has brought Neville to this station in his so-called-life. All morning long on the first day back to Colonel Gray High School after Christmas break his classmates have obeyed the socially accepted practice of merely ignoring his existence or picking on him. Then something different from the norm happens. First class in the afternoon Bailey Regan, the new kid, walks into the room and scans for a friendly face to approach or an empty corner to blend into. The only free corner has stacks of handouts piled over a few tables. The next best option in Bailey's eyes is to grab a seat at the table with the mousy kid who clearly is also trying to blend into the scenery. Everyone's staring at him, the new guy, but only the kid in the corner looks him the eyes. Bailey has his own baggage, and a lot of it. For just the briefest of moments he hopes this clearly damaged kid, ostracized in the corner, may just be a kindred spirit. The classroom is filled with freaks and geeks; it's an advanced level tech class. Your average student is not going to be found in this room. The popular kids most likely won't be here either, nor the jocks, the cheerleaders or any other seemingly well-adjusted teen. Not wanting to stick out any more than necessary Bailey swiftly navigates the aisles and bench style desks to the back corner. Neville feels a sudden flare of hatred towards this new boy. "Hi, I'm Bailey. Just moved out here from Moncton, is this seat taken," Bailey inquires before he sits next to Neville in Mr. McIntyre's grade eleven Principles of Technology class. If Bailey really looked hard enough he'd see a little twitch that is Neville's weak attempt at shruging his shoulders. As Bailey pulls the seat out from the desk and sits down, leaving as much space between them as possible, Neville thinks to himself, `I know exactly what it is about him that bothers me. His jeans, I stole a pair just like them off some poor French kid over the Christmas break that had to walk back to the hotel with his team in borrowed jogging pants one of his teammates wore under his equipment. I feel bad for that kid, and the other two I did it to, but I really needed newer clothes. And here's this guy with the same jeans. They look so good on him and I'm sure he didn't have to steal them when another guy was temporarily out of them. Perfect butt showing off in a perfectly fitting pair of jeans. Arrogant prick.' Sitting beside Neville, Bailey realizes the boy smells a little, not sweaty, more stale, like his clothes are dirty. He thinks, `are gay boys the only ones that notice when we smell? If so all I'd have to do to find a boyfriend in this place is follow my nose!' He surreptitiously scans Neville's clothes. Mavi jeans he notes, `at least the kid isn't head to toe Wallmart like everyone else in this town. Maybe, just maybe there's hope for this one. ' Neville for his part is blissfully unaware of this. He actually thinks to himself how thankful he is that he managed to wash all of his new clothes before wearing any of it. Bailey takes in the room again, angry at himself that he didn't take the opportunity to skip off the afternoon after leaving the cafeteria and separating from his sister and her girlfriend. `Look at this lot. A bunch of hicks whose social status I'm never going to crack. As a loser misfit back home they mostly left me alone. This bunch will just love me here! Love to pick on me that is.' `Dude, look around you,' Neville thinks to himself, `Every kid here is a nerd or a tech geek and even among my peers I'm clearly the loser in the room. Why do you think I'm sitting alone? I'm a freak even by my outcast classmates' standards, that's why.' Not knowing that this new boy is capable of understanding him better than anyone in the school, Neville points out, "You smell funny, like flowers or something." "Yeah, it's called deodorant and cologne," Bailey says, swiveling in his seat and looking ready to jump off it. Bailey is suddenly worried that the stress of his first day at a new school is causing him to sweat and thereby making his deodorant kick in. `Good idea, find another empty seat and take your precious butt elsewhere. Here, I'll help,' Neville thinks as he notices Bailey on the edge of his stool, "No, it's called perfume and you've made yourself smell all pretty. Like a girl. Good luck here in Charlottetown, Precious." "Yes, yes. In time you'll get over the fact that I don't bathe in my own B.O. and actually prefer to smell clean," Bailey says, clearly not moving, but also clearly rattled. He doesn't mean to point out to Neville that he smells. Neville on the other hand doesn't pick up on what Bailey is saying. He thinks that he only smells at times, not that he smells slightly bad all the time. He's unaware that when he notices it himself it's because it's worse than normal. Neville is still anguished though. He thought that picking on Bailey like he gets picked on would feel good. It feels hollow and empty he discovers as Bailey's cheekbones are flashing red. As angry as life gets Neville at times being mean is not him. He extends his hand a little, "Neville." "Nice to meet you Neville," Bailey says and gives him a fist bump on the shoulder instead of a handshake, "So how's life around here at Colonel Gray?" "Shut up," Neville says back. While retrieving a pen from the front pocket of his backpack Bailey tries to respond with humour. The tactic has been his best defense in his past, "Judges, is shut up the correct response? No? Oh, so close Neville but no dice! And the correct answer would be, drum roll please, nice to meet you too Bailey!" "No, shut up was right. As in Mr. McIntyre is staring at us and waiting for you to shut up so he can start class," Neville says. "Correct. Mr. Reilly and new student; shut up. Class has started and it's my turn now," Mr. McIntyre confirms. Under his breath Neville says more to himself than anyone else, "tried to tell him." The boys don't get a chance to talk the rest of the class, not that either mind. A couple times Neville stretches and he can't keep his eyes from darting to Bailey's butt. Bailey is a little overweight, not much, but what his dad calls pudgy. His mom says he's just husky and hasn't burnt off his baby fat yet. Bailey had shed his baby fat years ago in fact. His slight tummy is the result of his parents owning restaurants and living on his computer, eating crap and drinking too much pop. And yet Neville would kill for a butt like his; thinking that all the girls would surely like him if jeans seductively hung off his hips and fit around his butt like Bailey. Having nothing else in his life, Neville is chapters ahead in all his classes. He reads his text books over and over and has done the practice questions numerous times. Confident in his mastery already of today's topic, instead of listening to the lesson Neville's mind wanders. `Bailey, eh? I can get past that he talks funny and his holier-than-thou attitude, even if he is from the fancy-schmancy big city of Moncton. So what? I'm from just outside of Halifax myself. I managed to hitchhike here from the biggest city in the Maritimes all on my own a year and a half back. I can get past that he is confident and outgoing, I just can't get over his butt. Why the heck does his butt look like it was made to be fondled in those jeans and why the heck am I even noticing it? If anyone notices that I'm gay too the picking on me could escalate. Thinking I'm just some poor kid is bad enough. I want to kick his butt for being the new guy in school and for having such a good looking butt. But by now in the first period of the afternoon he's had two classes already and probably made more friends than I have in my two years at this god-forsaken high school. I hate him and his perfect butt. If we're counting, that's two deadly sins. I think a third might be that I've got a boner thinking about his butt and what it would be like to be in his body, or better yet, have my body held by his. And I haven't even had a good chance to check out what's up front yet. His legs look good from beside him but I can't just casually take a peek at his crotch. I'll have to bide my time for that opportunity I suppose. Hope the wait's worth it! What else? Hmm, let's see. His dark brown hair is alright too I guess; kind of the colour of a chestnut. And his eyes. What is up with those eyes? They're a pale blue, almost as if they were white-washed, with a dark outline around them. They're not a vibrant blue which my dream man will have, but they're definitely interesting for being quite the opposite. Overall, this dude's definitely causing excitement in my stolen drawers. Yeah, stolen drawers, stolen jeans, stolen socks and shoes, stolen shirt, stolen hat. Everything I own is stolen from one unfortunate guy or another, rightly expecting that his things should be safe from theft when I come along and snatch them. God, how did I get here?' Neville pulls the brim of his Boston Bruins ball cap down to mask his eyes slightly. He eyes don't tear up, but they do get glassy as he thinks back. >>).:.(<< It's summer a year and a half earlier in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Neville has just finished grade 9 and is high on life. Here, all that time ago in his old life Neville Reilly is named Eli Harold Johnson. Fourth born of six children, Eli is a lanky 15 year old. Like his two older brothers, his sandy blonde hair is kept too short and trimmed to ever reveal it's natural curl. The plain green eyes of his boyish-handsome face are aglow as he brings home his best report card yet. The vitality inside those eyes is only slightly diminished as his report card is set aside unread and he is told to instead get a jump on his afterschool chores that are more important to his parents. They are humble farmers and while they encourage his grades at school they expect him to work the land and cattle like all the rest of his siblings and don't want anything of him scholastically. A week after school ends Eli's closest classmate from the city, Steve, comes for a weekend on the dairy farm. The day is perfect. The sun is kissing the west loft that Eli favours to spend some quiet time in; his refuge, his little corner of the world. Through the open loft doors the blue sky is clear and bright, the fields are vibrant patches of emerald green and gold, divided here and there by the deeper green of trees. The warm day is perfect in every way to spend a day just being lazy. Of course a week into summer vacation the day is also perfect for two horny fifteen year old boys with a little history together to express how much they already miss each other. The two are caught laying together and kissing behind a haystack. `Little Mike' Johnson, Eli's brother, is only little in the sense that he is his father's eldest son. Nothing else is little about the strapping farm boy. Picking the two caught boys up and tossing them in different directions proves his strength. Eli only knows obedience in his life. Not because he's had to learn it but because he's always been a good kid and never defiant. This weekend though he learns that he can no longer be his parent's son. Steve is given a few solid kicks to the body courtesy of Big Mike's work boots and told to start walking home, a good twenty minutes distance by car. After a beating by his father Eli is told `in no uncertain terms is he going to that school' ever again and he better shape up and pull his weight around the farm like a real man instead of a cock-sucker. He listens to his parents tell him how wrong he is for laying with another man, that little Nancys and Friends of Dorothy like him should be killed. Eli doesn't even like The Wizard of Oz, but he understands his parents' reference to Friends of Dorothy being gay fans of the movie. And yet, as long as he can remember he's only known thoughts for boys, never girls. It has to be natural he reasons, even if it will never be accepted in his God-fearing home. Still, worry of being discovered lost out early in the day when Eli and Steve returned from the swimming pond, eyes full of lust and erections full of blood. Clothing wasn't removed behind the pile of hay, if they hadn't been caught actually kissing it would have been easy to pass off as two teens horsing around and wrestling in the hay. Caution most certainly wasn't thrown to the wind, but better judgment was. Serious worry creeps into Eli's mother when stone sober his father promises her he'll shoot Eli dead in a huntin' accident to take care of their blasphemous abomination. Wendy Johnson believes her husband means it too. In her heart she thinks Eli is lost beyond hope to evil temptations, but she just can't abide her husband taking her boy out in the forest behind their fields and putting him down like an old dog. Once the house is asleep Eli's mother packs his backpack for him with some clothes, his Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone book that he loves and some snacks from the kitchen. She wakes Eli and lays out the facts, giving him the $120 from her purse and $276 from her cookie jar fund, and kicks him out of their home. That night under a star-filled sky the boy known as Eli is forever lost. The next day thanks to a couple friendly truck drivers he manages to con with a sob story, a homeless boy now known as Neville finds himself in Charlottetown on the tiny island province known as Prince Edward Island. Why Charlottetown and not west to Montreal or Toronto? It's where the second truck was headed and the name Charlottetown sounded inviting to Neville. >>).:.(<< Bailey too is lost in thought. Half a year ago in Moncton, New Brunswick things are going great for Bailey Regan. He is a bit of a bored misfit, but has a couple good friends and plays sports. He has a great family. He had a great boyfriend in Jeremy Weiss. His older sister Brooke is dating Megan Flannigan, one of his classmates. Things are so good between Megan and Brooke that Megan is practically living with the Regan family. No one seems to mind; in fact some people are almost beyond supportive. This is what gives Bailey the balls to come out to everyone he knows when school starts back up in September. Big mistake. That his sister is a lesbian is cool amongst their social community. That he appreciates the closeness of another guy doesn't go over nearly as well. Especially when Jeremy turns his back on Bailey after nearly a year together and denies everything. In Jeremy's defense, Bailey never consulted with him about coming out. Knowing full well that Jeremy is a proud gay, but not interested in coming out for love or money, Bailey chose to ignore Jeremy's wishes. Jeremy denies everything and in the end breaks up with Bailey for being a thoughtless jerk. Bailey's greatest mistake is in believing that in this day and age it won't matter and that people that know. In his heart he knows Jeremy was right and justified in all his damage control to classmates, friend and everyone else. But losing Jeremy and suddenly being the most alienated kid in school is all too much for Bailey. Trouble with school and then the law by messing with the food he makes at the family's 180 seat restaurant to intentionally make people sick causes a family crisis. It takes three months for his parents to sell their home and restaurant in Moncton, both at discounted costs, and buy the small 32 seat diner and two level home above it here in Charlottetown. The upside is that the diner and massive home above it cost even less, the downside is that at the best of times real estate here doesn't go for as much as elsewhere because the economy is always depressed here. Bailey had really screwed up and cost his family a heavy price to pay. Now here in this town, Bailey promises himself he isn't going to let his family down again. He's already been too much of a hardship for them to bear. And while they were both mad beyond belief at first, his parents have always both sported a `what's done is done' attitude about life. With this new opportunity for his family he's going to keep to himself, do well at school and not come out again until he is away at college or university. His parents need a clean start here and if he acts out the next downgrade for them will surely be bankruptcy. >>).:.(<< The bell rings, signaling one class left in the day. Bailey and Neville both get up, both trying to get a good look at the other boy, neither realizing that the other boy is trying to do the same. Without a word spoken they head their separate ways to their next classrooms. This is Neville's most dreaded class because English, even advanced level English, mixes Neville with a true blend of every group in his grade. He has to talk and express ideas in front of all the kids that pity or taunt and tease him, or taunt and tease him while still pitying him. Bailey on the other hand is finally excited about one of his classes; Physical Health & Fitness, also known as Gym. [ to be continued ? ] >>).:.(<< Dear Reader: So here's chapter 1 of a new story. I know it's short and doesn't explain all that much yet. I really just wanted to put this out here in the great ether before I finish off the final chapter(s?) of In This Cruel World, and see if it garners any interest first, seeing as I just introduced these boys in chapter 16 of that story. I guess maybe it's just a new spin put on a couple old and tired cliches, but I have some ideas to hopefully keep it askew from the `same old'. I'm actually excited about developing these two guys and seeing where they go, and am also stepping out of the first-person on this one which is a little challenge to see how well I can manage. Please don't be shy; I'd really love to know what YOU think!