Date: Mon, 22 Oct 2007 07:13:59 -0400
From: nuday101@hushmail.com
Subject: Leftovers

This story will have sexual contact between males.  If it is unlawful or
inappropriate for you to be here, please log out and go do your
homework. The characters are fictional, as is the story and it is posted
for your pleasure, your emails and responses are appreciated.  Thank you.


Leftovers


High School, for those of you who have not been for a while is all about
survival.  Learning is the base justification for the building, but the
social defines and divides are the real inter-structure.

The point is to belong and therefore survive.  The problem is when you are
odd or new or different or shy or just easy to pick on, there is no group
for you and you become a Leftover.

I have learned all this the hard way, this being my fourth school in less
than two years, so I am normally a Leftover.  In my good fortune, I am thin
enough, smart enough, cute enough and fast enough not to draw too much
negativity. You try your best not to draw negativity.

The High School world can turn on you and eat you up in an instant; all
that is important, is the avoidance of that. You do your best to survive!

0o0o0o0o0


"Take the five, switch to the sixteen at the downtown depot.  Get off at
the corner of Olsen and 45th Street.  Walk about a block down the alley
past the gas station and I'll be waiting for you. Got it?"

"Yeah, no problem," I said

I walked down the isle of the city bus about twenty minutes later.  As I
looked around I wondered how I got to this place, knowing it was just one
more place, one more situation, but the last stop if I didn't want to end
up in the care of the state.

Some of the people along the isle looked at me; others were into their own
world.  I found an empty seat next to the lease harmless person I could
fine and thought back to where I had been.

I don't feel picked on or unlucky; things just happen and you end up where
you are, no fault of your own or anybody else.

Mom died when I was six, dad began to drink a lot and his life ended in a
traffic accident about eighteen months ago.

My dad's parents, my Grand Parents took me in, and I had to move four
hundred miles away from the only home I knew.  I had to move anyway, the
accident was dad's fault and the house and any money he had was covering
the lawsuit.

My Grand Parents really tired to make a home for me, but their health was
deteriorating quickly and it just wasn't working out.

My father's sister, Aunt Silvia took me in, two hundred miles to the south.
We were like oil and water and no mater what we did, we just could not get
along. Her two Rat Terriers had the DNA of Amazon Mosquitoes; all they knew
how to do was bite.  Oh yeah and hump your leg.  I think we tried, but hey
somethings just don?t work out.

The talk was they were turning me over to the state and it was going to
happen if my mother's brother would not take me in.

I had only seen him three times in my life.  The last time was ten years
ago at my mom's funeral. Everyone said he was the black sheep of the
family, but he was all that was left and my only chance not to end up in
some state run group home.  My Grand Parents put on some heavy pressure and
Uncle Frank said send him over.

Another hundred and fifty miles by bus to the west, I arrived just outside
St Louis.  I waited for my luggage and dragged two big bags out to the
street where I stood for over an hour.

The roar of the engine on the big bike was deafening, but it brought Uncle
Frank.  He had a bandana on his head a tattoo on each arm and a face with a
weeks growth. Uncle Frank did not look happy and I had a lump in my throat
and my knees shook in wonder of what the heck I was getting into.

Uncle Frank sized me up and looked at my bags.  He turned off the bike and
nodded his head my way.

"You Tom?" he asked

I said, "It's Tim."

"Bring the bags over and help me strap them on the bike."

I did as I was told; Uncle Frank did not look like someone you would want
to defy.

"No room for you. Take the five, switch to the sixteen at the downtown
depot.  Get off at the corner of Olsen and 45th Street.  Walk about a block
down the alley past the gas station and I'll be waiting for you. Got it?"

"Yeah, no problem", I said

This was not the best part of town and I had never been to St.Louis, so I
kept my wits about me and on the lookout for whatever.

The bus was almost full and everyone one on it was black or brown or dirty
or old.  I was white and clean and very much out of place.  The lady I
chose to sit next to had an odor like garlic mixed with urine.  It was not
pleasant but she seemed safe. So I endured.

Following Uncle Frank's directions brought me to Olsen and 45th.  The
street had beer cans in the gutter and the garbage cans were overflowing.
Some men sharing a bottle of cheap wine watched me enter the alley heading
towards, what I wasn't sure.

As I walked along the sound of revving engines began to fill the air.
There at the end of the alley was a greasy shop with a few bikes out front
of the open garage where all the noise was being produced.

Towards the back of the shop I could see Uncle Frank leaning over a Harley.
I stood there watching I'm not sure what for about twenty minutes.  Finally
he looked up and frowned.

"I guess you found me"

"Yeah", I said

Uncle Frank turned off the engine and motioned me over. He sat on the floor
surrounded by tools.  He looked up at me and spoke.

"Look Tom, I didn't ask for you and I don't need you, if you want to stay
it's really up to you. Got it"

"Yeah, it's Tim"

"This is not baseball.  Here you get one strike and you're out.  So don't
cause trouble, don't get into trouble, don't be trouble. Don't lie to
me. Don't steal from me. Don't mess with me. Got it Tom?"

"Yes Sir", I said

"I'm a working man, don't call me Sir," He growled

"Don't call me Tom." My words stumbled in fear

He smiled, "Okay Tim, call me Frank if you want"

He pointed to my luggage and told me to take it up the outside stairs to my
room. And then he went back to work.

I dragged the bags up the steep stairs one at a time and then opened the
door with a bit of a surprise.

It was nice.  In front of me there was a small living area and a smaller
still kitchen with a table separating the two. To the rear was a bedroom
with an attached bathroom and a large shower stall. In the bedroom was a
queen size bed with a comforter that matched the drapes over the bedroom
window.  I put my bags in the bedroom and went back out to survey the
living area.  I had a nice loveseat and rocker facing a small television.
There was another door, but it was locked so I decided it was storage or
something I didn?t need.

On the small table there was a twenty-dollar bill and a note.

I don't know what you like, so buy the food you want, Frank

I unpacked and found a place for what little I had.  I tried the bed and
found that it was well used and slumped in the middle, but hey it's only me
so I did't really care.

I went back down to the shop and found two more Bikers hanging around.
They looked at me but didn?t speak.  The new engine roar made me jump and
they smiled to each other.  Frank rolled over on his bike and stopped in
front of me.

"I like to ride most weekends, so you're on your own.  Close the shop door
behind you and be ready Monday morning to start your new school. Got it?"

"Yeah, no problem." I answered

At that the three of them rode off.

I closed the shop and wondered back up the alley to fine a store.

0o0o0o0o0


The area was definitely blue collar or less. At the end of the alley was
the gas station and across the street was a large apartment complex. There
was a fence around it, but several holes had been pushed through so it was
easy for anyone to come and go.  I walked along that side of the street
heading for the store I had seen from the bus during my arrival. I had only
walked a short distance before I heard some yelling.

You know it's only natural to look towards the action and that's when I saw
this skinny light haired kid come running out of one of the apartments on
the third floor. Luckily he was fast, wearing nothing but his boxers to
slow him down.  Right behind him was a large Spanish looking man yelling at
him and throwing a pair of shoes at him.  One hit the kid's back bouncing
off and knocking his shoulder slightly forward. The kid rounded the corner
and disappeared before the other shoe could make contact. The large man
looked my way and yelled some kind of Spanish curse; I stepped up my pace
and moved on to the store.

El Mercado is what it was called.  It wasn't very big and a lot of people
seemed to be pushing passed each other to find the items they needed.
There seemed to be a lot of Spanish type food available, which was fine
with me, I liked tacos and burritos and all of that stuff.

Once I collected all that I could reasonably carry for twenty dollars, I
headed back toward the shop.  This time I walked on the other side of the
street not wanting be to near the angry big guy.  As I passed the
apartments though, I did see the skinny blonde kid sitting on the stairs,
still wearing just his boxers.  I guessed he wasn't quite ready to go back
and face the big guy.

I looked back from the corner of the alley and could see the kid standing
now and it seemed like he was watching me.

Once back in the safety of my little place, I unpacked the groceries, and
planned my dinner.  It was getting dark and I didn?t think it was wise to
go again.

The next morning the sun shinning in my bedroom window brought me to the
sense that I was hungry again. You know a teenage boy has few major
desires.  I had completed one of them in bed last night and now lay there
naked and deciding if I needed to eat or beat off again. I chose food,
knowing that a full belly made shooting off even better.

It was nice to have my own place. I already felt secure and enjoyed the
privacy.  Let me tell you, living with Aunt Silvia was not conducive to
enjoying the pleasures of the body.  She liked to walk into my bedroom at
her pleasure, assuring I never had much chance to pursue mine.

I ate in the nude and once breakfast was over, I jumped back into bed for
another jerk.  After a nice long shower I headed down stairs. The shop was
locked tight and no one was around.  I realized how lonely I was and began
to feel sorry for myself and the fact that here I was in a new town living
over a bikers garage with a guy who made it clear I wasn?t really in his
plans.  I shook off the depression and pushed myself to head back up the
alley to see what was going on.

It was Saturday and kids were out in the lawn and tarmac playing.  Some
guys were washing their cars and women stood at the front of their
apartments looking out to the street, sharing gossip and conversation. I
crawled through the hole in the fence and joined a few guys playing
basketball. I was pretty good. so that fact that I was new ended quickly as
my team began to win.

Once hot and sweaty and the game over, I headed out to find a bottle of
water.

The gas station sold soda and small items so I headed there.  That's when
the yelling started again. I saw the blonde kid again, but this time very
quickly and just from the back.  The loud voice seemed to push him out the
front door of his apartment, this time it looked like he was naked. Before
I could be sure, a large arm pulled him back in the door, and it slammed
behind him.

I headed back to my place and spent the rest of the day enjoying my privacy
watching sports channels in the nude.

Sunday was a lazy day and I never left my place.  I ate my food, napped,
jerked, showered and ate and jerked some more, a perfect day for a teenage
boy.

It was early the next morning; I woke to the strange smell of after-shave
and a dark figure in a button down shirt looming over my bed.  I realized I
was naked and very helpless at this point as the large hand came at me I
coward in a ball.

His voice seemed thundering, but familiar.

"Get up, get dressed, you're going to school. Got it?"

It was Frank and I said, "Yeah, no problem."

0o0o0o0o0


High School, for those of you who have not been for a while is all about
survival.  Learning is the base justification for the building, but the
social defines and divides are the real inter-structure.

The point is to belong and therefore survive.  The problem is when you are
odd or new or different or shy or just easy to pick on, there is no group
for you and you become a Leftover.

I have learned all this the hard way, this being my fourth school in less
than two years, so I am normally a Leftover.  In my good fortune, I am thin
enough, smart enough, cute enough and fast enough not to draw too much
negativity. You try your best not to draw negativity.

The High School world can turn on you and eat you up in an instant; all
that is important, is the avoidance of that. You do your best to survive!

With survival in mind, I realized I would be entering my new school with
dear Uncle Frank in tow.  I was sure that everyone would label me either a
hoodlum, or biker or just trouble to stay clear of.  I visualized arriving
on the back of his Harley Hog, bandana flying in my face and no hope of
just blending in.

Once I was dressed and somewhat red in the face realizing that Frank had
seen me nude and probably hard. I was shocked to find him clean, shaven and
dress nicely. So that's where the after shave odor came from I thought.

Frank looked up and smirked, crap I thought he did see me.

"Eat the apple and Granola Bar.  It's important to start your day with a
good breakfast."

I was assuming he would offer me a can of beer and stick of beef jerky.

"You drive right?" he asked

"Yeah no problem" I said

We headed out back into the gated area where there was a dirty 1996 Chevy
Camaro.  I think it once was red, now coverED in filth. He threw me the
keys and I got behind the wheel.

"Crap its stick." I said

"You can't drive stick?"

"Nope"

"Push the clutch in and start it up, shift to first, the shift design is on
the knob, push on the gas slowly while releasing the clutch. Got it?"

"Yeah no problem" I said

I jumped out of the lot and into the alley, I skipped down the street,
heads turned and watched me grind through the gears. In a short while I
somehow managed to get to the High School and into the parking lot. Frank
never said a word.

As I got out of the car just happy to be alive, a rough looking character
said

"Hey dumb shit, you're in my space."

Frank got out on his side and the kid waved and said

"Hey cool man, I'll just park over here today."

We walked through the halls and my cheeks burned from all the stares.  I
was almost glad to get to The Dean of Boys office.

The old lady behind the tall desk instructed us to have a seat. It was
weird seeing Frank dressed up and sitting in a school office.  I wondered
if he felt out of place and if he blamed me for those feelings.  I was
about to tell him to go ahead and leave when the old lady announced
"Timothy Norton, Dean Wagner will see you now."

"I turned to Frank and said, "I got it, if you want to leave now."

Frank looked at me and smiled.

I walked away and headed into the Dean's office.

"Mr.Norton, Mr. Timothy Norton is that correct?" a stern voice from a prune
shaped face.

I opened my mouth to speak and heard from behind me,

"Hey Waggy how's it hanging?"  The voice was Frank's

I am so dead, I wonder if I can run out of here before I pee my pants I
thought

"Frankie, Dude what the f...." he stopped, catching himself.

Now standing and moving from behind his desk Dean Wagner greeted Frank with
a fist slam and a quick hug.  Frank hugged back.  I thought, damn I didn't
get a hug!

Frank spoke, "Waggy this is my nephew Tim Norton, he will be living with me
and I want you to make sure he doesn't have any problem in school. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah Frank, don't worry he'll be fine." Replied the Dean

"By the way Tim will be driving his car and will need a parking spot, we're
in B14 today and I like that one."

"Sure Frank, B14 will be just fine, I'll reassign it today, but Tim here
will need to keep a 3.5 grade average to have a car." The Dean warned

Frank turned to me and said. "3.5, got it?"

"Yeah, no problem"

"Waggy, bring your bike by next week, I got a new light that would be
prefect for it."  Frank smiled

"Sure Frank, thanks, I'll come by for sure." The Dean smiled

Frank looked at me, and said.

"Make a difference." Got it?"

"Yeah, no problem"

0o0o0o0o0


Will the new student Timothy Norton please stand up and tell the class a
little about himself.

"Yes, yes thank you, thank you very much, no applause please."

"I'm Tim Norton and my hobby is beating my meat and I really enjoy watching
my spunk fly high in the air and land on my belly."

No, No

"Hi I'm Tim Norton and I am glad to join your class. I look forward to
meeting each of you so that we can learn more about each other, thank you."

Three times so far today and now I need to figure out where the gym is so I
can get to my next class.

"Excuse me Mr. Gordon, but can you direct me to the gym. I'm not really
sure where it is." I asked the teacher politely.

He looks up obviously preoccupied. "Pope, are you heading towards the gym?"
he yells

"Yeah Mr.G, but don't make me do the new guy scene."  The voice protested

I turned to look; it was the Blonde kid from the apartments.

"Pope, just do it and quit complaining." Mr. Gordon didn't even look up.

The Blonde kid gave me a look of scorn and headed down the hall.

I followed him across the campus and into a large warehouse looking
building.  This was the gym and it had all the normal parts you would
expect to find in one.  We headed toward a group of offices lining one side
of the structure and opened the first door.

Inside sat a well developed man in gym shorts, shirt and cap.  When I
handed him my paperwork he looked up and yelled.

"Pope, get this kid a locker near you and show him around."

"Ah Coach, please don?t make me baby-sit the Newbie." He wined

"Here's a lock, follow Pope."

So off we went, him rushing ahead trying to look like we were not together,
and me speeding behind trying not to be lost.

Our lockers were just a few apart and the Blonde kid began to remove his
shirt.  I watched.

I was thin, but he was skinny. Blonde kid was about as tall as me, maybe
5'10". His skin was a milky silky covering that allowed the veins in his
arms to stand out. As other boys began to enter the locker area, he pulled
off his jeans and kicked off his shoes.  It appeared that he had on the
same boxers I had seen him in over the weekend, or maybe all his boxers
have Palm Trees on them. His legs were thin and taunt and blonde fuzz
covered them below the knee down to the ankle. When he turned his back to
me I could see a reddest burse on his left shoulder, probably from the shoe
I thought.  With his back turned he pulled down his boxers and there was
another dark bruised area running along his left buttocks.  I watched him
slip on his jockstrap just like everyone else was doing, and then he turned
to face me and spoke to me for the first time.

"Aren't you dressing out?"

"I didn't bring anything to change into." I replied

His eyes moved up into his head and he shook it in disgust.

"Well at least you wore sneakers, here put these on." He threw me a
slightly ripped pair of gym shorts.

I slipped off my shirt and jeans and stuffed them into my locker.  Not
having a jockstrap I decided to put the shorts over my boxers.  The elastic
ban was old and they hung down and slipped when I tried to run.  I must
have been quite a sight, running along with one hand pulling up my shorts
making them so high the bottom of my boxers showed, or letting them drop
showing the top.  I was glad when the Coach blew the whistle.

Back at the lockers there was a lot of chatter and some of the boys
stripped down and header for the showers, The Blonde kid began putting on
his street clothes. In the process he dropped his shirt and I could see the
pain in his face when he tried to bend over to get it.  I grabbed it off
the floor and handed it to him.  He spoke to me for the second time.

"Thanks."

I became brave and asked,

"Why do they call you The Pope?"

"They don't call me The Pope, just Pope." He turned away dismissing me

I decided not to give up.

"Why?"

He turned back as if surprised I was still alive and said "Why what?"

"Why do they call you Pope?" I tried again

"That's my name dipshit."

Well, we're bonding I thought.

"Tim, first or last?" I countered

He looked at me like what the hell is your problem and answered.

"Last, it's the only thing my old man gave me worth having."  At that he
walked away.

I found myself to the next class and the rest of the day repeated,

"Hi I"m Tim Norton and I am glad to join your class. I look forward to
meeting each of you so that we can learn more about each other thank you."

0o0o0o0o0


I started the car and made it out of the lot.  I parked behind the shop
inside the fencing.  Inside Frank and another mechanic were busy on some
bikes that weren't there when I left that morning. I stood out of the way
and watched Frank for a while and finally he looked up and said,

"What?"

"I need a gym outfit."

"Okay, take a twenty off of the work bench and get one."

"I need a jockstrap too."

"Okay, take another ten, the sports store is back near the school. Oh and I
know you're skinny, but don't get a small.  Based on what I saw, you'll
defiantly need a medium.  Got it?"

"Yeah, no problem"

Cool, Frank thinks I'm a medium.


To be continued.....