Date: Tue, 5 Sep 2006 01:16:24 -0400 (EDT)
From: Jack Frost <unpetitpoissonbleu@yahoo.ca>
Subject: Moving On - Chapter Two

Thanks to Sharon for the excellent editing job!

English translation to the French dialogues are provided as footnotes at
the end of the story.


	I sat waiting on a bench right outside of the guidance office. Why
do they put the bench out here and not in the foyer between the door to the
halls and the door to the actual guidance office? Some kids don't really
want to be seen waiting for the guidance counselor, including myself. I
guess the counselor missed that little detail during his college
education. There is always something in life that will remain unanswered
until the time you die.

	I looked at the clock on the wall in front of me. Hmmm, it's been
15 minutes now, and Ben should be done arranging his schedule soon. I must
admit, I am actually hoping will have him in one or two of my classes. I
know this boy needs a friend to guide him around his new school life, and
to help him adapt. The smallness of the lake community really limits the
chances of meeting many kids around my age. I always thought Krist, Alex,
and Jake were good enough for me, but the door is always open for anyone
else who wants to join.

	Ben just came out of the room with his coat and beanie hat in his
arms, and his schedule in his hand. Wow, I asked myself, how can it be
possible that anyone can look like that? I have to remind myself that
genetics could work in a strange way, turning out some unusualness in some
people's features. He is quite slim for his age because his slightly tight
t-shirt pretty much gave that away. His hair is exactly as I imagined from
what I could see peeking out from under his beanie hat earlier on the bus,
it's smooth, covering his ears, and pushed aside to the left to keep it out
of his eyes. Oh and his eyes, those brown eyes that are still staring at
the paper, but then moved toward me.

	"Hey Steph, you still alive or have you died from boredom waiting
for me?"

	I continued to stare at his brown eyes trying to find a name to
describe the odd, yet beautiful, shape of his eyelid folds. It could be
explained something like between European and Japanese.

	"Oh god, Steph, don't make me do CPR to bring you back to the real
world. Look up, dammit!"

	I snapped out of my thoughts. Oh shit, I overdid it this time with
the staring. I'd sell my soul to the devil if he didn't delete notice
why. But it doesn't seem to be a bad idea that he performs CPR on me
someday, maybe when I could fake drowning during the summer when the lake
is warm enough for swimming.

	"Oh! Sorry, Ben. I've been doing that too much lately. I'm just a
deep thinker, and I have loads on my mind these days." I flashed him a thin
smile. He returned the smile back to me.

	"No problem. So, are you gonna show me where the rooms are?" he
waved the schedule at me. Whew! He didn't notice after all, so sorry
Mr. Devil, I think I'll keep my soul for now...go away.

	"Well, that's part of the deal, right? Lemme see that." I grabbed
the paper from his hand. My eyes widened a little, it can't be....

	"You've got three classes that have the worst kid in high school in
them."

	"Who is it?" Ben asked with a slight or the slightest hint of panic
in those adorable brown eyes.

	"That would be me." I gave him a huge smirk. He turned his face
down to look at his book bag, but I think it was meant to hide the slight
tint of blush on the milk-white skin of his cheeks. It's good to know the
advantage of having milk-white skin, you can see a person's blushes much
easier.

	"Hehe, c'mon, let's go before you're late for your first class,
biology."

	I took him down the halls to the stairs that go up to the third
floor. The high school is an odd mixture of old with some new
additions. The main building was built in the thirties with a good deal of
architecture, such as the main stairway done in red marble and the windows
around it that are stained glass designs. The stairs handles are made of
brass, and even the hallways are lined with red marble along the baseboards
where the floor and the wall meet. And then we have a great deal of wood
everywhere, the doors, the closets in the classrooms, I'm not sure what you
are trying to describe here. I would suggest changing to: and high overhead
there are impressive crown moldings since putting marble there would be
dangerous. Many of the teachers' desks and chairs have been sitting in the
same room since the school's early days. However, the students' desks are
modern, clashing with the old, worn titled floors.

	"Here we are, Ben. I had that teacher last year and he's nice and
if you listen...it'd be a breeze to make an easy A on your report card."

	"Ah ok, thanks." He said with a small nervous smile.

	"Good luck and I'll see you after class to show you to the next one
that I'm also in. So, see ya!"

	As Ben walked into the classroom, I headed to my own. And as it was
just a minute before the bell will ring, I had to walk a little quicker to
beat it. Otherwise, hello detention since the teacher is kind of evil. I
saw Krist waiting for me outside the classroom for English literature. We
came in and sat down in the middle of the room. Sitting in the front would
just get the teacher's attention too easily whenever we feel the need to
whisper about something.

	"Where were you?" Krist asked quietly so the teacher wouldn't hear
him as she takes attendance.

	"The new kid decided to take my offer at the last minute after
all."

	"Boys, may I begin my class?" as the teacher caught us in
action. Why do teachers always ask such questions as if they really need
our permission when in reality, they will go on no matter what we say? One
day I'll happily refuse.

	"Oh sure! But wait a sec till I finish talking delete, then you can
start, Mrs. Benton." I gave her an innocent smile. Several of the kids
threw out a small giggle at my answer. Obviously she wasn't as amused as
they were.

	"Keep it up and I'll let you start detention after school,
Mr. Lacoste. Now before we left for vacation..." and my brain shut itself
off automatically from listening to her voice. When she turned around to
write on the blackboard, I quickly whispered to Krist.

	"That means I'll be busy all day showing him around. Can I just see
you later?"

	"Yeah, hockey on the lake in front of my house after school." Krist
added and immediately snapped his attention to the board as Mrs. Benton
turned to face the class her eyes on Krist in an attempt to catch him, but
it was too late, he had his pen writing on his notebook, not noticing
her. I couldn't help but smile as I stared at my own notebook.

	Fifteen minutes into class, my eyes were starting to feel heavy
from paying attention to the lesson. English literature is usually snooze
land for me and the teacher was repeating the same thing that I already
knew by heart (how could I not? I had to learn this several times
before). I guess the teachers don't really trust us remembering
things. Then the feel of having an anvil putting down on each eye caused
them to close slowly, giving in to the weight.

	The bell rang so loudly in my ears that I nearly fell off the
chair. Krist eyed me with a suspicious look, and then smirked in amusement.

	"I just woke up." I grinned.

	"No shit, Steph."

	I walked out alongside him and then we separated to go to our own
class.

	"See you after school." I waved good-bye. He returned the wave. Now
I just had to catch up to Ben so he wasn't waiting too long for me.

	I arrived at the spot where Ben should be, and there he was, just
waiting next to the door where I had told him we'd meet. He saw me coming
and decided speak first.

	"Hey..." he said meekly.

	"Hey! Ready?" no way I'm going to mention that adorable shyness in
his voice. I'll let him use it as one of his defining characteristics. He
started to follow me and asked me a question.

	"Yes, what's the next class?"

	"French." I replied. He stopped in his tracks. What the hell?

	"C'mon, or we'll be late for class." I gave him a light push on his
shoulder to keep him moving. At that moment as my hand came in contact with
his shoulder, a shiver spread from my fingertips and traveled through my
body all the way to my toes.

	"I didn't know I would be taking this class. I should've checked my
schedule better instead of just staring at it. It's a mistake. I..." I cut
him off right there.

	"C'mon! French is not as bad as you may think." As we arrived at
the classroom door, I gave Ben a slight tug and went inside. Once inside, I
looked around immediately for two empty chairs next to each other so we
could sit together. Ben once again tried to say something to me. What is
wrong with this class? The teacher is always nice and it's one of the easy
A classes the whole high school can get.

	"But Ste..." but the bell ringing drowned his voice out. The teacher
got up from her desk.

	"Bonjour!" she sweetly said to the whole class.

	"Bonjour, Mme. Schultz" the whole class replied.

	"I hope you all had a nice Christmas and New Year!" she said
back. "Now, since we were off for a couple of weeks, can any one tell me
how to say some holiday terms in French? I want to remind you all about
them since it will be in the tests soon. So, any volunteers? Ah yes, Alice!
Go ahead, what do you know?"

	"Well, I do know that Christmas is `Noel' and New Year is `Nouvel
An', and we say `Merry Christmas' as `Joyeux Noel' and Happy New Year as
`Bonne Annee."

	"Very good! But we've missed a few key words about the
holidays. Can anyone tell me how to say `Happy Holidays', `gifts', and
`Santa Claus'? Does anyone knows?" She waited for any one to say the words.

	"Ah, well, I don't blame you for not remembering." She gave a
smile. She's always a nice lady, doesn't really get worked up over small
things.

	"'Happy Holidays' would be `Joyeux Fete'. `Gifts' is `cadeaux'. And
`Santa Claus' is `Pere Noel'."

	"Erm..." Ben raised his hand. She gave Ben a stare, attempting to
place him in the class.

	"I don't remember seeing you in my class, are you new?" she asked.

	"Yea, I am..."

	"Oh, then talk to me after class to show me your schedule so I can
record your name and such. Now, you were going to say something?"

	"Sure.... Oh! Yeah, I was going to. I wanted to point you that you
made a mistake saying `Happy Holidays' in French."

	"Oh really, I checked twice in my book. I am sure I am correct
since I have had decades of practicing the holidays terms. But I'll let you
tell me what is wrong with what I've said. Go ahead."

	"Well, not trying to sound smart or anything, but `Happy Holidays'
should be `Joyeuses Fetes', not `Joyeux Fete'." He replied with a shy, but
nervous, smile. Mrs. Schultz went to her notes to confirm what Ben has
said. Huh? He can possibly correct the French teacher's French? Maybe he
had some French classes in his old school from wherever he came from. That
reminded me, I should ask him where he came from. Mrs. Schultz lifted her
head aiming her gaze at Ben.

	"Hmmm, according to my notes, it's still saying what I have said. I
am sorry, you made a mistake."

	"I doubt it...it's better to be right than wrong." Ben growing a
little annoyed.

	"Oh, then do explain to me and the whole class." She also replied
in a slightly annoyed voice. Wow, it's rare to see her talk like that. She
always sounds calm and peaceful.

	"Bien la, vous savez que je suis le nouvel etudiant, mais je suis
francophone qui est ne au Quebec. J'ai demenage de Longueuil, une banlieue
pres de Montreal. Pourquoi je pense que vous n'avez pas raison? Parce que
`fete' est toujours un mot feminin et, comme en anglais, on dit toujours
`holidays' au pluriel. Donc, on le dit toujours `Joyeuses Fetes' quand on
veut dire `Happy Holidays'." 1 He ended his speech in a clear confident
voice. It was the first time I heard him use such a tone. I suppose shyness
doesn't always interfere with his various expressions. But what the fuck?!
He spoke French all naturally and as if he's truly a native speaker. This
is French II, and despite having over a year of French, I had no fucking
clue what he just said because he spoke rather too fast. I glanced at
Mrs. Schultz, and she looked like me, shocked. She snapped out of that
state, and reached for her English-French dictionary on the desk to
check. After flipping several pages, she stopped as if she had found the
word that she was looking for. Then she closed the book, and eyed Ben.

	"I apologize for sounding a little smart. I should have kept an
open mind to the mistake. I must admit, I may be a teacher, but I do make
mistakes once every while. Thank you for pointing that out, it turns out
you are correct. It is indeed `Joyeuses Fetes'" she said to the whole
class. She smiled at Ben. "As I said before, speak to me after class. A
native French-speaker shouldn't be in any French as foreign language
classes at all. I'll speak to the guidance counselor about putting you in
another language class."

	"Ok, thanks a lot." Ben smiled, seeming happy that his actions
would not] land him into detention or something else. But what the hell?! A
native speaker? Oh man, I surely embarrassed myself not letting him speak
and forcing him into the wrong class without giving him a chance to
explain. I hope he won't be mad at me because that will really ruin my
chances to get to know him. Ben turned to look at me, and I slid a little
down in the chair, trying to hide my embarrassment. Oh I am so sorry...

	So I waited till the end of the class to ask Ben.

	"Ok, what was that about?" I kindly asked him as we exited the
classroom.

	"Just pointing out the mistake," he said as if it was too obvious
enough.

	"Duh! But you babbled something in French..." I stared. He let out a
small giggle.

	"Hehe, it seems you didn't get much out of it. I said that I'm a
native speaker from Longueuil, a suburb just across the river from
Montreal."

	"Huh, you moved from Canada?" I asked in confusion.

	"Yep, that's where I lived before moving just a few days ago. My
dad got transferred to a newspaper company in Scranton, and the job is
supposed to last for two years."

	"Interesting, but you speak in clear English without any accent. I
couldn't tell you're from outside of the country."

	"Montreal is a bilingual city. Though French is the main language,
English still plays a strong role, especially in commerce. And English is
taught starting in fifth grade and up."

	"Ohhh, I didn't know that...but at least I'll have you to help me
with French someday." I smiled at him. Yep, he's become more interesting
than I would've thought.

	"Sure! Besides I need to pay you back for the school tour
eventually. Or I can just pay you back in my room" he blushed a little. My
eyes widened at the last words. What the hell?  I couldn't help not
thinking naughty, and I...love it. He noticed the look on my face.

	"Erm, sorry, I said it in the wrong way. I meant to say, I can help
you at my house with French or anything" again he blushed slightly. Damn
it, there went my chance. Ok, it's time to put my gay side away because I
just met him! Jesus, no need think of that now!

	"Oh, sorry. I was thinking something else like playing video games
or watching some movies or whatever." We arrived to our next class. "Here's
the class for you, Monsieurrr."

	"We can do that too, the video games and movies." He smiled, and
went in the door and I followed him. It looks like the international touch
at the lake has grown by a notch. Hmmm, I realized his jeans hug that ass
very well as I observed his butt while following him. And we were stuck in
the class till it was time for lunch.

	Ben and I were standing in the lunch line with the trays in our
hands.

	"Don't order the spaghetti, the sauce is like water. Order the
pizza and buttered noodles, they're edible enough to be actually good." I
told Ben as I showed him the good food. Sometimes the lunch ladies overdo
the cooking, and it's been like that since the school hired a company to
serve school lunches (thus eroding the quality of the food because of
capitalism).

	"Thanks!" as he took a green apple, and then paid for the meal.

	After getting our lunch, we found a seat at the tables.

	"Oh, the French teacher told me to delete take German instead. She
already arranged it with the guidance counselor." Ben said.

	"Cool. Too bad it's one class less that we'll be sharing." It's
true, I fear that I might miss his presence in my other classes that we
don't share.

	"Do you wanna join me and my friends for a hockey match at the lake
after school?" I added without thinking it over.

	"Well, I can skate... You know that hockey is like a religion in
Canada, so it's obvious I can skate and hold the stick. But usually I do it
alone or with one person," he said shyly.

	"Oh..." I guess he's a little shier than I had thought. "You can
just watch us then. My friends are great once you get to know them. Take a
chance!"

	"Alright, alright, I don't see why not," and he put the last piece
of pizza in his mouth. I carefully watched his smooth tender lips moving
around as he chewed. Then he stuck his tongue out a little to wipe his lips
clean. Oh, I can only imagine what he can do with those lips and that
tongue. Christ, here I go again, thinking what every mother in the world
doesn't want their kids to think about, especially when it involves someone
of my own sex. Besides, the chances of someone possibly being gay is too
slim. If I can recall from the websites I once peeked at during my
sorrowful days, about 1 in 10 people is gay, but I would guess 1 in 20 or
25 to be on the safe side. In the lunchroom, there are about 200 people
now, so about eight to ten people are gay. Seven to nine since I am one of
the few, but the rest, I do not know. I never really looked around to check
who could be gay. I often assumed I was alone at dealing with this in the
whole school, but it would be too naive to think that was the sole truth.

	We finished our lunch, and the bell rang a few minutes later. I
told Ben where his last three classes were located, and reminded him we
share the final one. I waved bye to him as I walked to the library for
study hall.

	I walked in the library to my usual table inside a little cubicle,
and there is a girl with brown hair [sitting there] reading her books.

	"Hey, Cecile." I greeted her as I sat down in the chair next to
her. Cecile has been my study partner for a couple of years now, and she's
a senior and a year older than me. Since we have the booth to ourselves, we
can talk softly, and the walls surrounding the cubicle will block the
sounds very well. She doesn't know my friends very well and they rarely
meet, so I could talk to her about some of my problems and ask her for some
solutions. That way, I wouldn't have to be afraid of my friends finding out
at the wrong time.

	"Hi Steph. Nice seeing you again after the long Christmas
vacation," she responded.

	"Yeah, but there's nothing much to study now. Just some things on
my French vocab list and a chapter to read in Biology."

	"Ditto, just about finished answering some questions for English,"
she closed the book. "Everything ok with you? Did you take my suggestion?"

	"Yeah, I'm feeling much better today." She saw the bandage on my
arm, and looked at me with concern.

	"It doesn't seem like it. What happened?" she asked.

	"Oh, it was an accident. I swear! I had it in my hand, but my dog
made some noises and scared me. I cut myself by accident because of that."

	"Oh..." she interjected.

	"As I said, I did take your suggestion. I gave myself more time to
think over before I let myself go. I decided to quit because I accepted the
`problem' and realized that it will not go away at all."

	"I told you so, that when you gave yourself some time to use your
head as much as possible that you would decide why are you doing this and
what goals you are trying to achieve. If there are no goals, then it's
pointless to do it. I wish I knew what's the problem because maybe I could
help more getting rid of it." I haven't told her I am gay actually, because
no one knows yet. No, not yet. So I told her about the self-mutilation
thing, but not the reason why I was doing that. She's been a big help for
the past few months, and I am glad I have someone who is concerned for my
well-being.

	"Yes, I know, I know, but you should know me well enough by now [to
understand] that I can be the most ignorant, stubborn idiot on earth...or at
least in this library," I grinned.

	"Yes, I do know. Just keep the suggestions in mind when you need
them. I think you're heading out of the hole. I'm always here for you," she
said with a smile.

	"Thanks, Cecile. I'm going to use the computer for a while, wanna
join me?"

	"Sure, we got like 30 minutes to kill," she shrugged.

	Cecile and I spent some time surfing the internet to read the
latest news, played some card games (don't tell the librarian), and did
some e-mails. It didn't take very long before we heard the bell
ringing. Cecile and I always parted there since we just share the study
hall periods. I went to my next class where not much happened. I just
wanted the day to pass quicker so I could see Ben again. His unusual eyes,
slender figure, and cute hair. Heh, I better stop before I make myself more
anxious than I needed.

	Finally, the class was over and there was only one more to go, but
at least it will have Ben in it. I walked down the crowded hallways to the
class where I saw Ben sitting down at a desk, twirling his pen in his
fingers to show his obvious boredom from being in school all day now.

	"Hey!" I sat down behind him.

	"Hey..." he replied.

	"Bored?" I pointed to his pen twirling.

	"You have no idea, that's school." he grinned.

	"Ok class, settle down." the teacher said, and the talking quieted
down as requested. "Thank you. Now, we're going to try an open subject
today not found in the book or the course line. Just to provoke some
thinking and discussion..." blah, blah, blah echoed in my mind. Don't mind
me, I do get good grades, but I cannot help thinking those classes are too
boring sometimes! So I took out a piece of paper, and wrote "Do you want to
come to my house to hang out]?" I waited for the moment when the teacher
turned his back so I could throw it to Ben. He opened it, read it, wrote
something on it, and threw it back while the teacher was still facing away
from the class. "Sure. :)" I wrote something else, there is no way I am
going to let this teacher bore me. We wrote notes throughout the class, not
paying attention. He made comments about some of the students how weird
they look. He made a small cartoon of the teacher...with a small, stick
body, but a big head with his mouth taking up most of the head. I nearly
laughed out loud, but managed to suppress it into silent giggles.

	The day had finally ended. So much for a typical school day once
you come back from a long vacation. I cannot wait for summer. Ben followed
me as we went to catch our bus. It will just be he and I since my friends
have after-school activities to do. The hockey game in front of Krist's
house will be a little later after they finish these activities.

	We got in the bus and took our seat, with me letting Ben take the
window side. It was still quite cold because the frost was still on the
windows. The snowfall earlier this morning pretty much gave way to clouds
with some holes in them to let the sun shine out occasionally. Ben stared
out that frosty window just like he did this morning.

	"You seem to be busy thinking. What is it?" I asked. He snapped
back to realize what I've said to him.

	"Huh?...oh! It's nothing. Just thinking of back home and my
friends. It's [probably] obvious I miss being back there," he replied with
a neutral expression on his face.

	"It's alright. I'm here for you if you need anyone."

	"Thanks a lot. You made my first day easier to manage."

	"No problem. Will you me something about yourself?" and I watched
as he started to think before telling me.

	"I love photography, especially black and white," he smiled.

	"Me too, though I haven't done that for ages now. I should start
again someday," and we started talking about best shoots, our tastes, and
so on. It seemed we have found a common interest between us. I watched his
face constantly transforming every other second to make all kinds of
expressions while he was talking to me about many things. As I already
said, he has good skin tone and texture, so smooth and creamy-white. His
eye color always blends so well with his skin and hair. However his lips
are a little bright red and it almost appears as if he is wearing lipstick,
the way their color stands out against his skin and hair.

      The bus stopped and we got off to walk toward the trail made by my
friends and me. As we approached the beginning of the trail, Ben looked at
me, his face showing some concern.

	"What is it? C'mon! I know it's a little steep but the shortcut is
worth it."

	"Erm, what if I slip?" he said softly.

	"There is a rope tied around tree to tree for extra security. Plus
I've taken this trail like a million times, I know every inch of it. I
won't let you fall but if you do I'll use my super sticky body for you to
land on." I smirked. Ben giggled at that comment. "But you are right, we
should think about falling. If you die from it, where should I put your
lifeless body?" Ben's eyes widened and then laughed.

	"You can just leave me here, I'd be a good fertilizer for the
ground" he grinned.

	"As for me, you can just dump me in the landfill, but I doubt you
can drag my fat ass that far. So just drop it off at the doorstep of my
house. My mom will be happy to see me waiting for her." I winked at
him. "C'mon! Take the rope and it'll be easy as hell after a few tries." He
gladly obeyed and started to walk down behind me.

	"Your ass is not that fat as far as I can see from here," he said.

	"What the fuck? Are you gay or what? Look at the birds over your
head. Just watch out if they decided to shit on you." I smirked at him. I
know he has to be joking, but seriously, that has to raise some
questions. No straight guy here would say that, but it could just be that
his mentality is different from ours and he probably doesn't realize it
could be wrong to say that. Not that I would complain if he was gay, at
least I could have someone to relate to, if I ever get myself to tell a
single soul because I cannot imagine myself doing that at all, even if the
soul belonged to a gay guy.

	"Nah, just messing around with your head" as the frozen snow
crunched under his shoes.

	We reached the end of the trail, and we walked along the lakeshore
till we got to the spot on the ice to cross to my house on the other side
of the lake. Ben looked at me again with some concern. I sighed.

	"Don't worry, Ben. I have lived here all of my life and I know the
ice pretty well. It's so thick now it can almost carry a snowmobile
across. If it starts cracking, just move away from me so we don't put too
much weight on one spot. It's the best thing we can do."

	Ben agreed to push his worries away so he wouldn't look too much
like a city boy. He followed me. I took several steps on the ice to begin
going to my house. All the sudden, my feet flew up in the air and I landed
hard on the ice.

	"Steph!!!" Ben called out.

	"Shit...that did wonders for my ass and back. Remember that Ben, it
happens every damn winter, you will fall at least once on your ass from the
ice." I said.

	"Yea, I know. Don't forget, I'm from the Great White North" he
breathed a sigh of relief, and helped me back up. I rubbed my sore ass and
back to make them stop hurting. And then I slipped again, this time I
landed not on my ass, but hitting my head hard on the ice. And then I
blacked out. I can hear Ben's shout faintly fading away. Maybe it's good to
sleep for a while.

	I was starting to wake up, but I hadn't opened my eyes yet, when I
heard a lady's voice.

	"Oh Benoit, j'espere qu'il lui faudrait voir un medecin" the voice
said softly. 2

	"Je m'en ferais pas a ce moment. On verra quand il se reveillera."3

	I slowly opened my eyes to find Ben and a lady looking at me. My
eyes focused themselves to get a clear look at my surroundings. I am on a
bed with my coat and shoes off, and I felt something cold on my head. I
went to touch the cold spot and found it was an ice pack. The lady slapped
my hand away from there.

	"Don't touch it, dear" the lady said in a strong French accent.

	"What happened? Why am I here?" I asked.

	"Hey Steph, how many fingers I am holding up?" and he raised his
middle finger in front of me.

	"Erm...one..." and I realized what he was showing. "Hey!!!"

	"Benoit! Sois gentil ou sors de la chambre!"4 the lady told him
off. Ben giggled, and I joined him. I think that this is Ben's mother
because I can recall that she and Ben were speaking to each other in French
a minute ago.

	"It's ok, madam. I'll get him back someday." I smiled at her.

	"You can call me Mrs. Lemoureaux."

	"You slipped on the ice as soon as you got back up, and you hit
your head good. I had to drag you to the shore then I went to get my mom,
which is that lady next to you, and we took you in. You're in my room as we
speak." Ben said.

	"Well, Benoit, he can speak and he is not confused. I think we
don't have to get a doctor, but we should keep an eye on him. Concussion
could possibly show up later even if it's not showing now" his mother said.

	I lifted myself up and held the ice pack myself. I reached to feel
a lump that ached at the slight touch.

	"Well, I'm definitely not crippled from neck down." I said.

	"Stay here, boys, and I will make you two some soup" Ben's mom said
as she left the room.

	"Nice room....and comfy bed." I told to Ben.

	"Thanks, Steph. I think you will have to stay here for a while
because I don't think my mom would let you go home alone without anyone
with you. What's your number so she can call your mom to come and get you."

	"My mom is on double-shift at work. She won't be home for a while."
I replied.

	"Oh, then it's not a problem. We'll figure what to do in the
meantime," and then his mother called up to us from the stairs.

	"Venez icitte, les gars! Votre soupe est prete."5

	"She said the soup is ready. C'mon."

	Ben and I went downstairs to the kitchen where two bowls of soup
awaited us. Mrs. Lemoureaux looked at me as if waiting for a response as I
took a spoon of soup.

	"Hmmm, it's good chicken noodle soup there. Thanks a lot." She had
a very pleased look on her face.

	"Thank you, dear. I made it myself last night." She went to look at
Ben who was slurping his soup. "Benoit, arrete de faire le bruit. C'est
impoli."6 He stopped slurping immediately.

	"Je m'excuse, m'man"7 he said.

	"Now, boys, I have to run to the store to get a few things for
supper tonight. Now you will behave while I am gone, won't you?" she gave
us a stern look, and then smiled.

	"We will, m'man." Ben replied.

	"Thank you for the soup, Mrs. Lemoureaux." I told her. She smiled
again at that comment.

	"You are too kind, dear" and she grabbed her keys and left through
the door.

	"Why's she calling you Benoit?" I asked.

	"That's my full first name." he replied.

	"Your mom is nice, but it's kinda funny to see her switch back and
forth between French and English." I said.

	"My family can speak bilingually, but we talk to each other in
French. We only use English when it's necessary." Ben said.

	"It's interesting. I am sure I will learn a little from this. I
think we're gonna be good friends if we keep this up." I smiled. Ben looked
at me with some concern as if I said something worrisome. "What?" I asked.

	"Steph, we can be good friends, but there is something I should
tell you. It's only fair that you know before we get know each other
better." Ben shyly said.

	"Well, what is it?" I suspiciously looked at him.

	"I just want to make sure my friends are truly friends, not just
some idiots that would break off a friendship over some thing that they
don't want to see in a friend."

	"Ok, understandable. What is it? I am not going to stop talking to
you if you tell me that you have an extra toe, or a little mental
illness..."

	"Steph, I am..." he took a big swallow.

	"You are what..." I said.

	"I'm gay" he slid down in the chair in embarrassment. My heart
probably jumped out of my chest over that simple word. Jesus, three letters
can have a powerful effect and drop a surprise on a person.

	"What the hell..." I stared in amazement. "Did I hear you right?"

	"Steph..." he started to say.

	"Wait, don't even fucking talk to me yet." I growled. Ben backed up
a little in shock.

	"See!!! I wanted to be careful before starting a friendship because
based on my experience, I do not want to go through again what some of my
friends back in Canada did to me" he said a little hotly.

	"What did they do?" I asked in a strong voice.

	"They ditched me... They stopped talking to me because of that..."

	That really struck me. I did go too far. No human should stuffer
such backstabbing from a friend over something that cannot be helped or
changed.

	"I am sorry. I went too far. I just never faced this before..." I
put my head in my arms. I peered out to see Ben's reaction and he's sitting
there with his head down to the floor, tears flowing out his eyes in
sadness.

	"Oh shit...don't..." I walked to him to give him a hug. I shouldn't
be doing that because it could send a wrong message to him, but I had to so
I can prove to him that I will not go away.

	"I won't leave you. I am sorry. I can say I can accept who you
are." I whispered to him as he let out a few sniffles.


English translations for the French dialogues.

1 Well, you know I'm the new student, but I'm a French-speaker who was born
in Quebec. I moved from Longueuil, a suburb near Montreal. Why do I think
that you are wrong? Because 'fete' is always a feminine word and, like in
English, we always say 'holidays' in plural. Therefore, we always say
'Joyeuses Fetes' when we want to say 'Happy Holidays'."

2 Oh Benoit, I hope he doesn't need to see a doctor.

3 I wouldn't worry about it now. We'll see as soon as he wakes up.

4 Benoit! Be nice or get out of the room!

5 "Come here, boys! Your soup is ready."

6 "Benoit, stop making that noise. It's not polite."

7 "Sorry, mom"


Once again, a special thank to Sharon for the editing job!!!

Discussion topic on GA can be found here through the link below.

http://www.gayauthors.org/forums/index.php?showtopic=5530

unpetitpoissonbleu@yahoo.ca
E-mails and feedbacks are highly appreciated.

Copyright 2006 by Jack Frost. All Rights Reserved. No parts of this story
may be copied, reproduced, in print or in any other format, without express
written consent from the author.