Date: Tue, 15 Aug 2006 23:25:46 +0100
From: Camy <camy@awesomedude.com>
Subject: JJ and 'The Boys'
"Take your hands out of your pockets when I'm talking to
you and don't shuffle about. Stand still." I was
addressing a group of four Upper Fifths who should have
known better. It was mid afternoon, I had caught them
ragging in an empty classroom, and though I was pretty sure
I knew what it was about, I hadn't actually seen anything
to warrant any punishment greater than detention.
Sidney Barrat was the ringleader, the lippy one, the one
who all the Prefects would have liked to have sent to the
Headmaster, but who was always lucky enough not to get
caught. Neil Cuddington and Brett Jones were his henchmen,
and the fourth, Jimmy James, known as JJ, was ... the boy I
was in love with.
I locked glares with Barrat. "Well? Explain what was going
on, Mr Barrat, if you please."
"We were just having a bit of fun, Palmer," he replied in
a smarmy tone that spoke volumes. His two henchmen
"yeh'd" their agreement.
"James?" I queried in a slightly milder tone. Jimmy James
was shy. He couldn't help it, it was just his nature. But
the amount of grief he suffered because of it was slowly
turning him from the bright, sweet, blue eyed towheaded boy
I loved into a morose, maudlin wreck. I had just about had
enough.
"Yes, Palmer," he replied, his eyes downcast, looking at
his shoes.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, we were just having a bit of fun." The last word
came out as a whisper, as if fun were the last thing he was
having.
"So you were all having fun?"
"Yes, Palmer," they replied in unison.
"OK. When you've finished putting the classroom back
together you can go." I paused. "... And all meet back
here at seven for detention, which I will be taking
personally."
"Oh, sir!" Barrat pleaded, "it's the dance tonight."
"Tough. Break the rules and pay the penalty. See you all
here at seven." I walked out of the classroom and closed
the door behind me.
I guess I should introduce myself. I'm John. John Palmer.
I'm in the year above JJ and as such I don't have an
awful lot to do with him, except love. And that has been
from afar, if you see what I mean. I'm just seventeen, in
the Lower Sixth, and I was made a Prefect at the beginning
of the term, which gives me the power to hand out
detentions, and put other students on report; I was told
`being made a Prefect is a sign of maturity'. Ha! If only
they knew. JJ is just sixteen, in the Upper Fifth, and
according to the laws of the land, we are both old enough.
I think you know what for.
JJ and I are in the same house. I should explain that as
well. I go to a boarding school in England. I've been a
boarder since the age of seven, when my parents got a
contract that takes them all over the world. My parents,
bless and curse them, have always held that the best
education is English, and that to promote self-reliance in
their son, an English boarding school was the ultimate
choice. Personally, I think they say that because they have
to assuage the guilt they feel every time they set off
gallivanting. They always argue the point.
The school is set in a hundred acres of parkland stuck in
the middle of a valley surrounded by hills. It used to be
the country estate for a wealthy Victorian industrialist
whose ancestors finally couldn't afford the upkeep and
sold it to a charitable trust. The school is split into
five houses, each with around a hundred boys from twelve
years to eighteen. The houses are frighteningly
competitive, each with their own teams, out of which the
school teams are picked.
Pashes are common place, but except for JJ I've never
indulged, never felt the need, as from the first time I saw
him I knew he was my future. He knows. He has to, though
I've never actually come out and said it. He lives a
couple of streets away from me, and it was my parents who
persuaded his to try him at boarding school. He hated me
then, thought I was to blame for ripping him away from his
local school and safe home life. Still we'd always got on,
and after a month of moods, the rest of the summer before
he came to School was fine ... I think it was probably then
that I found I was in love with him.
________________________________________________
The bell for six o'clock had rung, and I had just finished
the junior inspection and was sitting in my study with a
cup of tea and a toasted crumpet, when there was a
peremptory knock on the door. Before I had a chance to
answer, Dan, my oldest and best friend, came in.
"Jimmy James is missing."
"Hmm?" I replied, inwardly panicked but trying to hide
it.
"Don't be an arse, John," Dan replied softly. "He's
missing, and I know ... I know what you feel for him."
Dan and I had played around when we first arrived at the
school. It's what all pubescent boys do, and especially
those in a boarding school. But as our friendship grew, the
sexual element was replaced by an emotional one. Dan was
straight and I wasn't, though I never let him know. I
thought I'd played my part well.
"But ..." I blustered, blushing.
"I should have said something before." Dan sighed and sat
down on the bed, the only other comfortable spot to sit
since I was in the armchair. "In a nutshell...." Dan
paused and took a breath before continuing. "Jimmy came to
me a week ago, just after his birthday. He knows I'm your
best friend and he wanted to know if you ...." Dan stopped,
ran his hands through his hair and continued. "He wanted
to know if you liked him ... if you cared as much as he does
... if you ..."
"Love him?" I looked at the floor; looked at the tattered
posters of Halle Berry and Milla Jovovich stuck haphazardly
on the off-white wall; looked briefly out of the window at
the fourth formers playing tag in the long grass of lower
field. I felt my safe world begin to crumble into little
pieces around me. Finally I looked at Dan. "How long have
you known?"
"Forever." He sighed again. "I don't care. You are my
best friend. You tried to hide it, and to the best of my
knowledge I'm the only one who knows, but man," he
smiled, "sometimes you are so obvious, it surprises me the
whole world doesn't know."
"You know, and you don't care ..." I was starting to cry,
which is not something I normally do. Dan got off the bed,
walked over and knelt by my chair. He put his arms around
my neck and pulled me into a hug.
"I don't care, John. I don't care `cause I love you,
too."
I broke away from the hug and looked at him quizzically. He
eyed me back. "Eeww, not like that. I love you as a
friend. What we did back then was fun `n' all, but I'm
totally straight. K?"
"K." I pulled him back into the hug, kissed him chastely
on the cheek and pushed him away. "Thanks, Dan."
"No probs," he said, handing me a hankie. "Except JJ is
missing."
I was on my feet in a second. "Any idea where he's
gone?"
"No, except Farzid told me he thought he was being
bullied, and Neils said he had a bottle of his mother's
pills."
"The bullying I knew about, but the idiot won't accept
any help. The pills I didn't ... Dan, when he asked you
about me ... what did you say?"
"I ... erm ... I didn't know what you wanted, so I told him
probably not. I'm sorry."
"Shit!" I paused, wanting to find JJ, but not knowing
where to start looking. Missing an inspection was a serious
matter, and he was probably ... what he was probably doing
was freaking me out.
"His blog!" I said, booting up my computer.
"His blog?" Dan replied.
"Yes. He writes a blog on livejournal. His writing's been
getting darker recently, and I've tried to keep his
spirits up, but it's difficult."
"So he knows you know?"
"No! Don't be daft. I log on under a pseudonym." The PC
had booted up, and I logged on to the school's WiFi
network, and out to JJ's livejournal.
Its timestamp was 17:45. Fifteen minutes before inspection:
"It's obvious now he doesn't care. I'm
bullied and then get detention as well. I
thought I saw a glimmer in his eyes, but then I
think I see other signs as well.
It's all a mistake. The world isn't fair. I
don't think I was ever meant to be part of it.
To love someone so much and not be loved back
is too much. I can't cope for much longer. I
don't want to live here anymore.
If there was a PFLAG or even a Day of Silence
like they have in America it might be
different, but there's no chance of that here.
I have no one to talk to.
Sorry, Fluffy. I know you tried to help me, and
what you say makes a lot of sense. If I met you
in RL I'd prolly fall in love with you too,
though I love him more. I love him so much it
hurts. Goodbye."
"Who's Fluffy?" Dan asked quietly, his hand on my
shoulder, as I started sobbing.
"I'm Fluffy!" I wailed.
"Pull yourself together, John, it's not helping." Dan
was serious now, and had slipped into his `in charge'
mode. "Where would you go if you were ...?" He left the
sentence unfinished.
"No! Dan, he wouldn't." I was appalled at the thought.
"He might, so let's be safe rather than sorry. We have to
ring the alarm."
There were consequences to ringing the alarm. Not the least
of which was the whole house, and shortly thereafter,
thanks to a great rumour mill, the rest of the school,
knowing why it had been rung. It would end up being an
`outing' of unprecedented proportions, and though I could
care less for myself, there was still JJ to consider.
"You're right, Dan. I'll ring it."
I strode out of the room, knocking an unfortunate fourth
former out of the way as I made for the red alarm bell
button on the wall down the corridor. I was just about to
break the glass when Dan's hand clamped on my shoulder.
"Hang on a tick, John."
"Huh?"
"There has to be another way to ...." He paused and glared
at Gilbert, the fourth former who was now standing,
watching us. "Go away."
"Yes, sir." Gilbert replied, giving us both a strange
look before he scuttled off.
"Let's go back into your study." Dan took my arm and
dragged me away from the bell, walked me back into my
study, sat me on my bed and closed the door.
"OK," he said, looking at his watch, "inspection was
ten, no twelve minutes ago, and JJ's blog entry was time
stamped fifteen minutes before that, so at most he's only
got a half an hour's head start."
"Huh?" I replied blankly, my emotions refusing to let me
think about anything other than JJ. His smile, his laugh,
the way he'd look at me as I took the dormitory
inspections. I started to sob again. I had had the most
precious thing in the world offered to me, the love of
another human being, and I hadn't had the balls to do
anything about it.
"Ow!" I couldn't believe Dan had slapped me. "What the
fuck ...?"
Dan held me by both shoulders and looked right into my
eyes.
"Now is not the time for that. Now is the time to find
him, and bring him back ... I'm going to call The Boys."
`The Boys' were what everyone called our loose collective
of friends. I say loose because we really didn't have
anything in common except for an uncommonly tight
friendship forged during a Cadet Corp exercise in our first
year. We had been mercilessly picked on by another platoon
a year our senior, had fought back, and with more luck than
good judgement had captured their flag. As bonding goes
that sounds rather mild, but the torture those bastards put
us through for the rest of the year forged a bond that was
nigh unbreakable. We watched each other's backs, and
though we were spread around the houses, Dan and I were
lucky enough to board together.
Dan gently let me go, took his cell phone out of an inside
pocket and hit speed dial. Cell phones were forbidden, but
then a lot goes on under the murky waters of a boarding
school, especially if you're in the Prefecture with
outrageously wealthy friends.
Ten minutes later, `The Boys' had arrived and my study
suddenly seemed really small. Dan - his surname is Smith,
which ticks him off for reasons no one has been able to
fathom - and I were sitting on the bed whilst Alexander
McAlister had taken the armchair. A red-haired freckled
faced Scot, Alex often wore a kilt for no other reason than
it was frowned upon. Martin Trubshaw, a small blonde boy
whose voice hadn't broken until he was nearly sixteen, was
pacing. Martin was always quiet, thoughtful, wore glasses,
and had an IQ that Einstein would have envied. He was also
shy and generally underestimated, until you got to know
him. Sellick Rhodes, the lithe blonde six-foot son of a
South African cattle rancher, and Jamal Al-Keif, the son of
a Saudi prince, were sitting cross-legged on the floor. We
were an odd bunch, to say the least.
"So, John," Sellick started. "What's up?"
"Shut the door, Martin," Dan said and looked at his
watch, as Martin closed the door and then opened the
window, explaining,
"Sellick farted three times on the way over here, so
better to be safe than unconscious."
It was then amid their laughter, as sounds of the game of
tag from the lower field started intruding along with faint
bird song, that I realised I was about to `out' myself.
There were no two ways about it. The clock was ticking.
Either I forsook the boy I loved with all my heart, or I
became a social pariah. Surreptitiously, I looked at them
all, one by one. They were my friends.
Sellick finished glaring at Martin and was getting
impatient, though to be fair, it was his way.
"We're altogether, for, might I add, the first time in
yonks, and called with the `get here now or else' message
that we're only supposed to use in dire emergencies ...."
he paused. "So what's up?"
I didn't know where to begin, so I didn't. I started
blubbering instead. Sellick looked at me oddly.
"JJ's missing, and time's a wastin'," Dan said firmly,
glaring at Sellick and wrapping his arm comfortingly around
my shoulder.
It's odd. You never know quite what people are going to
do, what they really think. I knew we had a tight
friendship, but still I thought Sellick would walk out in
disgust, probably slamming the door behind him, Jamal would
be understanding in his slightly aloof way, Alex would
bluster it off as a `wee bit of a laugh' and Martin would
be completely understanding. I was wrong on two counts.
There was, however, the classic silence, in which had there
been a pin it would have been heard dropping, before
Sellick chortled.
"Finally he sees sense."
"Uh huh," Jamal and Alex echoed in unison, whilst Martin
... Martin just looked confused.
"What?"
"What `what', brainiac?" Sellick retorted, chortling
harder, with Jamal and Alex joining him. Even Dan was
trying hard not to laugh at Martin's confused expression.
"I don't understand, who's JJ and why is he missing?"
"JJ is ..." All eyes were on me as I wiped my eyes with my
sleeve.
"Yes? JJ is?" Martin hated not knowing.
"JJ is the person I love, and we'vejustgottafindhim," I
finished at a rush. I didn't time Martin, but it felt like
it took about a decade to sink in.
"Ah! ... 'k ... I'm with it." Martin's expression had
turned noncommittal. I couldn't tell what he thought,
which was odd in itself, as he was usually as open as a
book. "So let's find him then. When did he go missing?"
Dan took over. "He missed the six o'clock, and John found
a blog entry written fifteen minutes earlier, so 5.45ish,
we think."
"Did he make the entry from his own computer? Because
otherwise he could have been anywhere at 5.45. The Internet
café in the village for instance, and if ...." He paused as
there was a scrabbling sound from outside the window
followed by hurried footsteps, and seconds later a knock on
my study door.
"Come!" I said in a voice that belied the way I felt. The
door opened and the Gilbert brothers were standing there.
Ray Gilbert, who was in the upper fifth with JJ, looked
grim, whilst his younger brother Giles, who I'd knocked
into the corridor wall a few minutes earlier, was hoping
from foot to foot in excitement.
"Beat it, Giles," Ray said peremptorily.
"Aww but ..."
"Go on. I'll see you later."
"Yes, Brother mine." Giles mumbled as he walked away
dejectedly.
"Yes?" I said, thin lipped. This was almost the final
straw; he had been eavesdropping at the window, and the
only reason I was trying to be polite was that I knew he
was one of JJ's friends.
"JJ told me he was ..."
"Come inside and close the door ... please," I added, as
he looked a little unsure of entering a room full of
seniors. Dan nonchalantly removed his arm from over my
shoulders as Ray hesitantly came in, closed the door and
cleared his throat.
"JJ told me he was leaving. He tells me most everything.
He's ..." Ray looked sheepishly down at his feet. "No
matter what he is he's my friend, he's my best friend!"
he ended defiantly. The younger boy took a deep breath and
angrily looked me straight in the eye. "He told me he was
in love with you. I said he was mad, I nearly hit him ... I
said that he couldn't possibly be in love with you, it
would mean that he was ... he was ... gay ... and I'd have
known. Surely I'd have known?"
Martin stepped forward. "Yeah it's odd, and to be honest
I thought I'd have known too ... but I didn't." He turned
and looked at me, blushing slightly. "It doesn't mean you
love your friends any less."
"He showed me his blog," Ray continued, "the one you've
just been talking about, and he told me how he's been
talking to a guy called Fluffy who had helped him ..." Dan
caught my eye and I swallowed guiltily; "... and that he
wanted to say goodbye." He paused and then became so angry
he seemed to vibrate. "He wrote the entry just after you
gave him a detention, you sanctimonious bastard!"
I interrupted before Sellick could rip his head off.
"Leave it, Sell. He's right. I'm a fool. Such a fool."
I was starting to lose it again.
"So it's true, then?"
"Yes," I felt tears welling up, "it's true." As I
spoke I felt a sense of rightness sweep over me. The first
tear rolled down my cheek and I did nothing to stop it.
"It's true, I love him, I love him with all my heart."
There was a pause as Ray, red faced, stuck his hand in his
pocket and pulled out a rather mangy looking hankie. I took
it gratefully. "Thanks." I started to gather my thoughts.
My problems weren't important.
"He doesn't know, does he?" Ray said.
"No. I haven't told him. I hadn't told anyone until ten
minutes ago." Strangely it didn't bother me. I felt
happier than I had in ages. I'd gone through months of
suicidal angst-ridden shit coming to terms with who I was,
followed by a few minutes of stupefying terror outing
myself to my friends, most of whom seemed to know already.
Now all I wanted to do was tell the boy I loved that I
loved him. "Please, Ray, where is he?"
"I don't know ... he wouldn't tell me where he was
going." Ray looked worried, and the happy feeling swiftly
faded.
"But you must have an idea," I stated.
"No." Ray gulped, and I saw a slight quiver in his lower
lip. "He just hugged me, said goodbye and left shortly
before inspection."
Sellick leapt up. "O.K. so let's go get him back then!"
He looked at Martin, who was seemingly examining a patch of
my study wall with interest. "Have you put a plot together
yet, Martin? ... Martin?"
"Hmm? ..." Martin shook himself, and took a cursory glance
at his watch. "Yes, it's obvious. The station is too far,
and no trains at this time anyway, and no busses for
another ...," he looked at his watch again, "forty
minutes, but he wouldn't go to the bus stop anyway, he's
too bright for that. He'd know that's where we'd start
looking. So he's either still in School, somewhere in the
village or in the hills. Take your pick." He turned away
and sat down at my computer.
The situation finally sank in, and I was horrified. The
village, which was the only real habitation other than an
odd sporadic barn, was five miles down the valley, the
train station another mile further on. In every other
direction were hills, and the light was beginning to wane.
"Right then," Dan took charge. "There are six of us ..."
"Seven" Ray interrupted. I was about to thank him when
Dan put his hand on my shoulder.
"Thank you, Ray, but I need ... we need to know a couple of
things. I was told that JJ had a bottle of his mother's
pills."
"Yeah he did."
"Do you know where he kept them?"
"'course. I'll go and look." Ray opened the door and
left.
"What shall I get Rajit to do?" Jamal asked quietly.
Jamal was always quiet, though not shy. He was gorgeous,
with an olive complexion, raven black hair and the
friendliest pearly white smile. He was actually a prince of
some minor Arab royal family, and as such he had Diplomatic
immunity and a bodyguard/factotum called Rajit. Rajit was
only a couple of years older than us, a black belt in Tae
Kwon Do, and though from a different caste, he was readily
accepted by Jamal as an equal, which was something frowned
upon by both his and Jamal's parents. When Jamal had first
arrived at School, by helicopter no less, he had been
rather aloof and it had taken quite a while for him to be
accepted and to accept us. The fabled Cadet Corps exercise
had finally broken the ice. He was filthy rich and very
generous too, which made some of our less legal exploits
possible.
"We split into three groups," Dan said, "Rajit can take
you and Alex in the car to search the village and the
station, Sellick, Martin and Ray can search the school, and
John and I will take the hills ... we're the fittest."
"Balls!" That from Sellick. "I'm as fit as either of
you two, and I'll be damned if ..."
"Now is not the time to have a pissing competition,"
Martin butted in, "and it's not necessary if I can only
hack into this damn site."
"Oh, sure," Sellick said sarcastically, "I forgot
Brainiac can find him on the computer."
"Actually, I can if he's got his mobile with him."
I squirmed at Dan's outraged expression. "Since when have
upper fifth's been allowed mobiles?"
"Umm ... since I'm in love with one?" I poked my tongue
at him.
And the room exploded with laughter, and released tension.
"Fair do's."
There was a knock at the door and Ray came in without
waiting for a reply.
"I checked. The pills, they're gone."
"Oh, Christ." I kicked the door shut angrily. "If only
I'd ..."
"Don't, John." Alex turned from where he was watching
Martin on the computer. "Regret is pointless, and I think
Martin's just about cracked it."
"Ray?" The not knowing was tearing me apart.
"Yeah?"
"When he said goodbye to you ... when he left ... was it ...
was it an `I'll see you later' goodbye or a `goodbye'
goodbye?" I was shuddering with apprehension.
"He was really sad."
"Yes! I'm in!" Martin yelled, "so give me his number,
someone." I gave it from memory. Jamal smiled at me.
"I told you phones were a good idea. Next term
Blackberrys."
"Thanks, Jamal." I was beginning to relax.
"No problems my friend, your lacuna will soon be filled."
"Huh?"
"JJ will be found safe and well, if it is Allah's will."
"Oh yeah? And is it?" Sellick snarled at Jamal. Ray
backed into the door in fright.
"Is it what, my friend?" Jamal's smile wavered.
"Is it ..." Dan grabbed Sellick by the back of his jumper.
"Stow it, Sellick, now is not the time for one of your
religious debates."
"Well fuck, man, he just goes on and ..."
"JJ's still in school!" Martin's timely interruption
had me smiling broadly. "I triangulated his position. As
you know, cell phones give off a constant homing signal
which enables the transmitters to know where it ..."
"Aww. He triangulated JJ's position. Bless!" Alex said
in his broadest Scots.
Martin harrumphed and then continued, "He's in the
theatre."
"Um ... has anyone tried calling him?" We all looked at
Ray askance, and I was mentally kicking myself. Stupid.
Stupid and so obvious, why hadn't I ...
"Yeah, I did before I tried the triangulation," Martin
said, cutting through my thoughts. "There was no reply."
Five minutes later, with the sun sinking low over the head
of the valley, the seven of us were standing outside the
school theatre. It was more an auditorium than a true
theatre, being used for morning assembly, gymnastics,
fencing and music, too. JJ had always loved working
backstage, and he was on the lighting crew, so I was
kicking myself for not thinking of it earlier.
"So, do we all ..." Dan started.
"No! ... Thank you. I need to do this alone." I looked at
each of them in turn, gauging their thoughts.
The wind had picked up, and it was actually pretty cold.
Cold enough that we were all starting to shiver.
"If you guys wouldn't mind waiting in the foyer ..."
"Ah warmth!" Sellick said as we trooped in through the
outer doors. "Thank you, kind sir."
"Don't be such a tart," Alex said, punching Sellick
lightly on the shoulder. The mood was getting
light-hearted.
"Shhh!" Ray said, and we all shut up. "Can anyone hear
anything?"
We listened for a few seconds before Martin spoke up.
"No, but then the doors to the auditorium are closed, and
JJ will be back stage anyway. Go on, John ... and good
luck."
The rest echoed Martin's sentiment as I left them with
trepidation, entering the auditorium and closing the
slightly squeaky door firmly behind me. It was much dimmer
inside, the setting sun throwing the last vestiges of
daylight feebly through the top windows, leaving large
areas in pools of darkness.
I knew the auditorium well. I knew that the stage and
proscenium arch were at the farthest end, with the
backstage beyond, yet I couldn't really see them. I made
my way onto the stage more by feel and luck than sight and
pulled aside the curtain. Backstage was almost pitch black.
"JJ?" I called out quietly. "It's John." Silence, but
more than silence; it was as if the theatre was holding its
breath. Waiting.
JJ, please. It's John and I ..." I heard a hitched breath
from somewhere in front of me, a hitched breath I had only
heard once before when, having crashed out of a crazy stunt
on his bike right in front of me, JJ had badly hurt his
hand and was trying hard not to cry. I had helped him up
and hugged him as he cried on my T-shirt. I hadn't washed
it for a month afterwards, and was livid when the maid
returned it clean and ironed.
"JJ? ..." It was no use. I had `outed' myself to my
friends, yet here I was frightened to take the last step.
Frightened to tell the boy I loved that I loved him.
"JJ, I love you." I held my breath hoping the Gods held
my hand. Quietly, almost too quietly, his sleepy voice
answered.
"Why?"
I answered without hesitation as I walked to where his
voice had come from, knelt down and, fumbling, found his
hand. I took it in my own.
"I love you for who you are, the way you are. I love you
for your smile, the looks you give me every now and then
when you think I'm not paying attention." My index finger
started to trace a pattern on his palm. "I love your
humour, I love your moods, even the ones where the clouds
seem to blot out the sun. I love you unreservedly, and ...
oh, JJ, please say you haven't taken those pills." I was
crying openly now, tears streaming down my face, and he
must have heard the worry in my voice.
"Sorry," he breathed. "I'm so sorry, John, I ...." His
voice faded away. He was dying. I could hear it.
"HELP!" I shouted as I got up. I went to the curtains and
managed to drag them further apart just as the fluorescent
house lights flickered on and my friends came charging into
the auditorium. "HELP!" I repeated, turning around. I
could see JJ now slumped against the back wall, his legs
outstretched, bangs obscuring his wan face. I walked in a
daze, automatically, and knelt by his side, cradling him in
my arms as the others all arrived on stage. A small brown
pill bottle rolled off his lap and came to a stop by his
shoe.
"He took the pills," I said, pushing his bangs aside and
brushing his face with light kisses. "He took the fucking
pills. Someone get some help. Quickly." Jamal got his
phone out and started dialing as Martin leant down and
picked up the bottle. I sat down next to JJ with my back
against the wall, and pulled him onto my lap. He was so
fragile, so beautiful. I started rocking him and crooning.
"Is this what he took?"
"Hmm? ... yes, yes obviously." I was almost too distraught
to talk. "When's the ambulance going to arrive? He's
still breathing, what should we do? Oh, JJ, please,
please." I ended the sentence by placing a few more
feather light kisses on JJ's lips and nose. I could smell
him, could feel him, could touch him and yet he was dying.
It was unfair, all so unfair.
"Umm. Wait a second, Jamal," Martin said, looking at the
bottle, then shaking the last pill out of it and examining
it closely. "If he took these he's going to be asleep for
a while, but honestly, he'll be fine."
I was stroking JJ's hair when Martin's words filtered
through. "W ... Wh ... What did you say, Martin?"
"I said these pills he took won't kill him. They're
Nytol. Herbal Nytol. My mother takes them, which is how I
know. Sure they're in an unmarked bottle, but they contain
...," he paused, cleared his throat - which drove me nearly
insane, and closed his eyes, which is how he accessed his
eidetic memory. "They contain Hops, which are sedative and
hypnotic, Dogwood Jamaica, which is both a sedative and an
analgesic, Wild Lettuce, which is mildly sedative,
analgesic and induces sleep. Passiflora and Pulsatilla,
which are sedative and analgesic too. No problem, other
than a good night's sleep and maybe, `cause of the amount
he's taken, he'll sleep through the day too."
"Are you sure, are you absolutely sure?"
"Absolutely. You can't overdose on them."
Sellick, the bastard, started laughing. I was outraged, but
damn me if it wasn't addictive. Dan kicked off next with
his belly laugh and soon the rest of us followed. Jamal was
the funniest; having realised during our first term that
laughter with friends was a good thing and not
embarrassing, he always went totally overboard and let
himself go. Now he was rolling on the dusty stage clutching
his sides with a high pitched squeak. Alex guffawed and
slapped his knees whilst Martin tittered. Ray on the other
hand was just grinning happily, whilst I was laughing so
hard that I nearly dropped JJ.
I re-arranged us so he was lying between my legs, with his
head laid back on my chest. I stroked his hair slowly,
gently running my fingers down his neck, tracing over his
clavicle to his shoulders and back up again as I kissed the
top of his head, all the while inhaling pure JJ ^Ö a
fantasy that I'd dreamt of many times. Now that the panic
was over, I found I was unashamedly hard, too.
Then I discovered a new passion: his ear. He had the
smallest, cutest ear lobes. My laughter drained away and I
gulped in awe as I realised that his eyelids were
fluttering. He opened one eye blearily.
"'sup John?" he said quietly and went straight back to
sleep. The laughter stopped. I looked up to see the others
staring at me, at us, and I became protective, and oddly
angry.
"What?" No one said anything, just continued to stare.
"What?" I repeated, getting panicked. There was
definitely an odd vibe, and I noticed that Martin was
studying Ray surreptitiously.
Dan broke the awkward moment. "We've got to get him back
to the house now before anyone stumbles in here for a
secret cigarette or something."
"How touching."
Out of the darkened prompt corner walked Barrat, followed
by Cuddington and Jones. "Well, well," Barrat continued
sarcastically, "what do we have here? The famed `Boys',
loitering back stage watching John Palmer and Jimmy James
kissing. Practising for a new play were you, Palmer?" he
said, as I noticed Ray, who had been on the far fringe of
the group, disappear behind a large scenic flat.
"Fuck off, Barrat," I enunciated carefully. I was
incandescent with anger but caught Dan slowly shaking his
head at me, his finger subtly pointing at Jones. Jones, who
had a mobile video phone pointing at us.
"Ah, but we're only here for your detention, Palmer,
sir," he hissed, "and what do we find? A bunch of sixth
form benders about to get it on, watching a drugged fifth
former being molested. Tsk, tsk, tsk," he clicked his
tongue, "naughty, naughty." He wagged his finger
melodramatically.
"What do you want?" Dan asked tiredly.
"What don't I want!" Barrat spat back. "I can't tell
you how happy this makes me. Hmm ... let me see. There's a
song by the Rolling Stones you should really listen to.
It's called `Under My Thumb'!" He laughed, though it
sounded to me like more of a cackle. Cuddington and Jones
sniggered. "I so want to broadcast the footage, I really
want that badly, but now you know I have it, I'll settle
for ..."
Ray Gilbert was magnificent. There's no other way to
describe his admission as the seventh member of `The
Boys'. He appeared from out of the darkness behind
Cuddington and Jones, wielding a broom handle high in the
air like a katana. He brought it down on Jones's phone so
fast it was a blur. There was a crack of breaking plastic
as the phone hit the stage followed by Ray, who jumped and
landed with his right foot squarely on top of it. Barrat's
jaw dropped as Ray knelt down and picked up the shattered
mobile, removed the memory card, and snapped it in half.
"Transmit what? You little fucking shit."
No one moved, then as Alex started clapping, Sellick and
Dan grabbed hold of Cuddington and Jones, neither of whom
tried struggle, whilst Jamal caught hold of Barrat by the
wrist and put him in a half Nelson.
"Ow, let go, you Arab Camel Fucker."
Jamal laughed unpleasantly. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. What was it
you said? Naughty, naughty." Jamal punctuated each
"naughty" with pressure on Barrat's neck, causing the
younger boy to scream. "Wimp," Jamal added mildly,
letting Barrat go and kicking him in the arse, forcing him
to fall to his knees at my feet. He was panting with fear.
Gently I got out from under JJ and, giving him one last
kiss on the head, I got slowly to my feet, dusted off my
trousers and then in one swift motion I hauled Barrat to
his feet and slammed him against the back wall, holding him
there by his throat.
"As I said earlier, fuck off. Let's consider today's
detention over, but if I ever ..." I paused and slammed him
into the wall again, "if I ever have any cause to put you
in detention again ... you won't be happy." I was inches
from his face and could smell his minty breath, but I could
also see that his look of unbridled fear was mingled with
something much more malevolent, something deeply, deeply
disturbing. I knew that this enmity would not end here, and
I felt that whatever I did, I had made an enemy for life.
I didn't care. Right by my feet was the boy I loved. When
I woke up this morning, I had thought I would never ever in
a month of Sundays admit my sexuality to anyone, and I had.
I thought I would never ever be able to tell my friends I
was gay, and I had. I thought I could probably cope with
one more major life situation. "So. Detention's over." I
paused, looking Barrat in the eye. "OK?"
""OK," Barrat breathed back.
"Just so as we're straight, causes for detention are, and
not limited to, anything I, or we," I gestured to my
friends, "don't like." I let him go and patted him on
the back. "I think that about covers it." I nodded at
Sellick and Dan, who released Cuddington and Jones.
I bent down and in one fluid movement picked up JJ and put
him over my shoulder in a fireman's lift. He was sound
asleep, and I knew I had never carried anything so precious
in my entire life. "Come on boys," I said quietly, and we
trooped from the stage, leaving Barrat and his cronies
standing there.
________________________________________________
Jimmy James knew he was dreaming when he woke up under a
duvet in John Palmer's bed. He dreamt about John an awful
lot, but that was only natural; after all, he was in love
with him. Jimmy still felt really tired and vaguely
remembered having some very weird dreams. This just seemed
like a natural extension to them. It all seemed hyper real.
Early morning sunlight was streaming through John's study
window and Jimmy was examining the posters on the wall, the
sort of odd thing you do in dreams, when he realised that
someone was spooned up behind him. Jimmy was stiff as a
plank with his usual morning wood and thought that this was
probably, hopefully going to turn into a wet dream, which
was nice as he never normally remembered his wet dreams,
just the memory of coming.
Carefully, trying not to disturb the balance of the dream,
he rolled over to find that the person spooning him was
John Palmer. No weird dream shimmy there, he thought; after
all love was love, who else would he be dreaming about?
John was breathing gently, his lips parting slightly each
time he exhaled. Jimmy thought they were the most beautiful
lips, really very kissable lips with just a soft trace of
dark blonde hair above. He snuggled closer, hoping the
dream wasn't going to change anytime soon. He liked dreams
like this.
Jimmy managed to untangle his right arm and brought his
hand up to touch John's cheek. It was soft and warm. He
moved upwards and slowly ran his fingers through John's
hair, across his forehead and down his nose. He leant
forward, closed his eyes tightly, and, going with an
overwhelming feeling of rightness, kissed John lightly,
firstly on the cheek and then on the lips, nibbling ever so
gently at his bottom lip. John groaned and responded, his
tongue darting into Jimmy's mouth. Then he drew away and
stretched, his arms coming up from under the duvet and
reaching for the head board. He wasn't supposed to do
that, Jimmy thought. It's my dream and that was just
unfair and wrong.
"Hi, JJ, that was such a nice way to wake up."
Jimmy's eyes flew open. "Um ... Hi. This is one cool
dream."
John's green eyes crinkled as he smiled. "This is no
dream, JJ, this is no dream."
________________________________________________
JJ and 'The Boys' by Camy Copyright 2006
Thanks for reading this tale - I really hope you enjoyed it.
Thanks also to Kitty for all the editorial input and tweaking.
She has made this tale much better than it was. Gassho.
Feedback would be adored. Honestly. No kidding.
Camy[at]awesomedude.com