Date: Mon, 20 Apr 2015 19:03:01 -0300
From: Victor Lucas <boy-driver@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mt Pleasant High - Part 12

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MT. PLEASANT HIGH - SERIES

   Previously:
   They were few blocks from East Wisteria Lane (or Ruby Street, the
official name), the Journalist called back. As Josh was driving, Shawn
answered.
   "Hello, Josh?"
   "Josh is driving, this is Shawn."
   "Ok, Shawn. You guys will not believe it!"

------

PART 12 - JUST ANOTHER NIGHT IN MOUNT PLEASANT

   "What?"
   "Two items of the jewelry you got... It's simply priceless."
   "What do you mean, priceless?"
   "It's worth a fortune."
   "Really?"
   "Yes! But there's only one problem."
   "Oh. What is it?"
   "It can't be sold in the legal market."
   "Why not?"

   Turns out the jewelry was part of a collection, and there was a claim
made by the Portuguese Government about it that was still valid. The
journalist said his friend who told him about that could actually find a
buyer.
   "What's the downside?"
   "There's no downside. That's just it. It's originally claimed by another
country's government."
   "Let me ask Josh here. I'm gonna call you right back."

   Josh had to park the car to understand what it was all about.
   After Shawn could explain the whole thing they had a decision to make.
Shawn went first:
   "I think we're done with being the good guys, you know? We've agreed to
turn the money back to the justice..."
   "So you think now we should just take this offer to sell the jewelry
that belongs to another country. Is that it?"
   "Well, yeah. I mean, we're not stealing. Right? I guess we're not
stealing."
   "Not from a person we're not. We're stealing from a country. A whole
people."
   Shawn had no arguments to fight that.
   "Tell you what, Shawn, hand me the phone, let me talk to this journalist
guy."

   "Mr. Richard?"
   "Yes."
   The journalist told Josh basically the same thing he told Shawn but
added one thing that changed the whole thing: those two items were missing
for more than two hundred years.
   "Two hundred years?"
   "Yes. It happened during Napoleon days."
   "What the hell... Seriously? Dammit, man, let's sell this thing already.
I mean, it's been missing for two hundred years, they learned to live
without it already."
   "I think just the same as you."
   "Do you have any idea of how much we're gonna get for it?"
   "Not sure yet. But I'll call when I get a number."

   As Josh turned it off, he and Shawn looked at each other and they
couldn't help but engage in a hot wet kiss.
   "We're rich again! Hallelujah!"
   Josh couldn't help but quoting a line from Desperate Housewives when
Gabrielle Solis figures out her husband got a high paid job... Shawn
thought he'd heard it somewhere but he couldn't be sure. He just agreed
with a nod and they couldn't hold the laughter any longer. Kissing in
public was a big no-no but what the hell? Being supposedly rich changes
things a bit, right? They didn't know HOW rich, but they knew it was not
some loose change.

------

   Matt waited Chad come pick him up, not only because he was interested in
having sex with him but also because he wanted to know exactly what did he
say to Josh and how he said it, because he, Matt, was not a monster,
specially not the monster that Josh probably thought he was. Or was he?
Well, he couldn't deal with that scenario. He just had to know what, how,
and why Chad told things to Josh.
   The jock came and Matt was already waiting for him in the drive way.
   "Looking forward to meet me?" Chad had the smile of who knows his smile
can actually open doors wherever he comes by.
   "Maybe." That was the first time Matt dared to direct a single dry word
at Chad. That's how pissed he was.
   "Wow, maybe?"
   "Just drive man."
   "What's wrong with you? Got your period?"
   "I wanna know something."
   "What is it?"
   "What did you say to Josh the other day before we went to the beach?"
   "Nothing. I just told him he wasn't invited to go with me to the
beach..."
   "What else?"
   "Nothing... I may have said something about him looking like a fag, but
I did say he was hot."
   "Did you say anything about me getting him to you in order to join you
and the guys?"
   "I don't know man... Listen, if you wanna interrogate me, I want a
lawyer present."
   "Why? Do you have anything to hide?"
   "Oh, go to hell man. I invited you out coz I wanted to have fun, but if
you're gonna be mooning over your boyfriend or whatever he is that can't
handle the fact that he is a fag... You know? I didn't invite you for that,
all right?"
   "I just wanted to know."
   "What?"
   "If you really told him that I set him up."
   "But you did, didn't you?"
   "Not with that intent! I intended him to have fun as well. No one should
get hurt."
   "Oh, whatever! The guy is gay and he can't handle me calling him a fag?
What the fuck? He should be thankful I wanted to fuck his ass..."

   Oh Chad, YOU are an ass. That thought occurred to Matt but instead of
saying it he swallowed it just like he was gonna swallow a whole load of
cum out of Chad's cock pretty soon. Matt was weak. Couldn't stand up to
defend Josh. That would cost him the 'position' he had just
conquered. Chad's bitch. Wasn't that what he was now?

   Matt soon gave up trying get Chad to admit he'd told Josh about his set
up, he would have to do something to convince Josh to forgive him.
   Chad couldn't care less.

   So that's how it was to be 'friends' with Chad. But he's hot. Damn! He
got me so hooked.

   Not having a nicer place to go with Matt, Chad decided his 'pal' would
have to satisfy him like that, in the car, in a road through the woods.
   The jock parked outside the road and took Matt to heaven with his
kiss. The boy soon forgot all about Josh, whatever he said and just focused
on him... Chad...
   Hands became wilder and searching down to the 'happy meal' concealed
inside pants. Chad helped Matt by unbuttoning his pants. Matt grabbed his
cock and smiled at Chad before engulfing his prize. He licked the head and
went all the way down until the head the back of his throat, then he opened
wider and got down all the way, until his lips were buried in pubic
hair. Chad let out a moan of pleasure.
   "Oh, do that again, Matt."
   Matt smiled to himself. That's what he was going for. He did it again,
and again, and once more... It was wonderful to drive a guy like Chad
crazy. The school star reached for his butt and Matt quickly undone his
button and slid his shorts down his thigh. The top boy spat on his finger
and lubed Matt's ass. One finger played around the tight muscle until he
entered Matt, who sighed in relief, like he 'needed' to be fingered. The
finger went all the way in, deep inside the boy. As a result, Matt's
sucking got way faster, he alternated 'deep throating' Chad and 'bobbing'
on the head. The milk he was entitled to didn't take long to be shot. Matt,
as a perfectly dominated boy, swallowed the whole thing, and was amazed of
how good it tasted, every time. It was always great to taste Chad's boy
juice.
   Once satisfied, Chad turned the Mustang on and drove back to Matt's
house, to drop his bitch and burn rubber on his way out.

------

   The FBI agents, O'Neal and Carlson didn't have better luck looking
through the Police Dept. files than the Internal Affairs and Police
Chief. It was not that easy to figure out what cop was the rat. What if it
was more than one? While they lost their time, Capo Monteiro was probably
scheming to flee the country and go to Mexico, or wherever. That was all
because of that journalist, Richard Desbordes.

   Richard was taking his time writing the story. He discussed everything
with his editor, that suggested different photos to go with the texts, they
argued, fought, drank coffee. The day had been busy, Rick went to Mount
Pleasant to meet with Josh and to the TV station where he got a sweet deal
on the material he had. Said material would only be delivered Sunday
afternoon, after the Gazette published the whole damned story. The next
day's edition would bring a follow up story on the Capo, showing the
hospital, the room where the Capo was, and there was a segment written
specially by the editor, on the Monteiros through the history, how they'd
always been involved with crime since their arrival in the US, back in the
early 19th century. Saturday would present another meaningless story about
the case, prepping up the way to the bomb. The whole thing. The thing that
would link Lopez and Miles to the Darlene Mayer and her illegal acts that
would ultimately lead to her disbarment and possibly some jail time, the
thing that would connect those three to Monteiro family and all the facts
he collected with the help of that PI. Whoa, they've committed at least a
dozen different crimes. That was so good for a journalist. An endless
source of crime, and HE owned it. He was the only freaking journalist who
could crack that fortress that was the Monteiro family crime empire. That
felt good.

------

   Night arrived in Mount Pleasant, the city had that name with good
reason, it was really pleasant to be there. It's interesting how everything
looks great when you stand on the outside looking in. Behind closed doors
you could find trouble in paradise if you were invited in. Chad Campbell
for instance, the boy who had it all, the great looks, the athletic skills,
the prospect of scholarship for a great university of his choice, he drove
a classic Mustang, everyone looked up to him, every other loser in school
wished they could be him. But if you looked up close, you'd see nothing's
ever perfect. He was not that perfect son in his house and he also kept
from his family, and from almost every one for that matter, the fact that
he liked screwing boys. Gee, it was what? Almost a year since he'd been
with a girl because he liked it. He couldn't risk losing what he'd got. A
fag on the team? Forget it. In the house his temper preoccupied his mother.
   "Could you get the mustard please?"
   "Why don't you 'get up' and get it yourself?"
   "Young man, what the hell? Where did you find it to talk to your mother
like that?"
   "Oh, shit dad, it's always like this. You don't know because you're
never here, dammit!"
   "I've had it! You can't use that kind of language at this table. Now go
get up and take the mustard for your mother."
   The father said this to his star son while pointing his index finger to
him. The father did not see this behavior before though the mother had been
alerting him that Chad was getting out of hand.
   After dinner the mother left the room and daddy held up his son to help
him load the dishwasher.
   "Son, what's happening to you? Your mother's been telling me you're
acting strange... Why is that?"
   "I'm not acting strange, is she crazy now? You're not here, you don't
know how's it like. I'm grateful school's about to start so I'm not gonna
be around here to be at her order all the time. Chad do this, Chad do that,
Chad grab that for me... Fuck, dad, almost everything is at her reach! Why
do I have to hand her everything?"
   "You said one word son, that changes your statement completely. Almost."
   "Don't try and turn things around. All I want is to finish school and go
to college."
   "Why? Are you embarrassed? Is that why you never bring your friends
over? That's no reason to be ashamed, it happens all the time..."
   "Dad, I don't wanna talk. Right? I'm gonna go out for a while."
   "No, you're not. After what I heard during dinner you're not going
anywhere tonight. You're gonna go up to your room and think of what you've
done... Of what you've been doing."
   "Dad!"
   "I don't wanna hear a word. Get out of my sight. And leave your car
keys."
   "Dad!"
   "Shut up! Tomorrow you can have it."

   Mr. Campbell thought that was nice parenting but he didn't try hard to
put some senses into his son's head. Later that night Chad snuck out
through the window and walked to his friend's house. Zack Gahm was older,
but he was the only one who Chad felt comfortable to be himself. Both kids
climbed up to the roof where they used to get high and share their
innermost thoughts about life. Later on Chad would make his way back to his
own house, when the pot had affect his brain enough to have him forget the
problems he thought he had.

   In Davenport's residence the dinner went through in a much nicer
fashion. Josh let the "rich" feeling settle, he couldn't be a spoiled rich
bitch, right? He had help from his brother to cook, and that was saying
something, Jordan was definitely growing out of his childish
behavior. Teens are like that. Inconstant. Sometimes they feel and behave
like adults, sometimes they tend to drown in childish behavior. Who knows
what they are? They're trapped in bodies that are not one thing nor the
other. Their not adults, though they start to experience their bodies
having all new sensations that they crave to act on, and at the same time,
they're not kids anymore, though the society, parents, teachers, whoever
crosses their way treat them as if they still needed diapers... It's
complicated. At different moments, this body/mind crisis ends and the
teenager settles out of that storm. For some it's early like it was for
Josh, for others it takes a while, and there are those who never seem to
get out of that stormy "teenish" behavior. Thankfully Jordan was sailing
out of it, better sooner than later.
   The kids made the dinner. Jordan's participation was minimal, but Josh
knew better than to ignore it. The little brother's helping with the dinner
was emphasized much to mom's admiration, "really Jordan, you helped?" That
was a touchy moment in the house, given mom worried Jordan would grow up to
be a problematic son. Dad didn't share the same worries but he was not less
happy to hear the baby boy started to show some signs of "getting it
right."
   The parents of that kid would never imagine what had pulled the trigger
for his son to improve his behavior but, across the street in Marshall's
household, the same kind of improvement was being noticed, Jordan's friend,
Aaron, was too being praised by his parents for acting up in a much lovely
fashion recently. Moody teenagers getting better all of a sudden? Well,
blame it to their also recent discovery. Didn't you know? They discovered
sex together. It is beautiful though, without looking for it, two kids find
themselves interested for what's within their buddies
undergarments. Society would say it's a perversion because their two
boys. They could be boy-girl, girl-girl, boy-boy, whatever... Deep down,
many members of the society who point it out as immoral have played it
themselves when they were younger... Who cares? You really should worry
about raising the young to be a good citizen, and not get concerned of what
he's doing locked up with his friend in his room... Davenport's and
Marshall's moms and dads had the living examples of this, Jordan and Aaron,
showing better behavior out of the blue. Interesting.

   Matt couldn't be left alone with his thoughts because those thoughts
would soon lead him to Josh. He had to find a way to get back near his
friend soon, or he would lose it. It's impossible to grow up sharing
everything with a person and overnight not have him around. It's just
killing your soul, your energy. Josh apparently was Matt's energy. Was that
right? Wasn't that a little crazy? How could be someone that important to
me? He asked himself, though he couldn't extract an answer from his
mirror. Now that his brother was going away again to college, he would be
the only son left to be picked on by his parents. Thank God they have their
couple's thing they attend to, they worry a lot about keeping their
marriage that they gracefully ignore Matt a little. It's not bad, to Matt
it seems perfect. He can have some time to himself...

   Michael Hunter was worried about Shawn. His son was getting involved too
soon and apparently too deep with this kid Josh. The last time (and only)
it happened the turn out wasn't good. He felt he had no right to say much
because he didn't share his son's life for too long. The burden over these
two was way too heavy. But he did what he had to, given the
circumstances. There was no time to try it otherwise. It could all go the
wrong way and he was determined not to let it happen with his son. Shawn
seemed happy but Michael knew what was going on inside of him. The guilt,
the regrets, the wish to make it all go away...

   Ayrton's house was all too different. The house was silent. Ayrton
didn't have the chance to grow up from teenager to adult at his own
time. Life slapped him across the face, took him by his collar and forced
him to mature way too early. It didn't show on the outside but he was
clearly in pain sometimes. It hurts not having anyone to turn to. Luckily
for Ayrton that was about to change...

   After dinner, Josh got his father to talking a little.
   "Dad, the hospital where you work has a social program that helps people
who don't have insurance and can't pay for treatment, right?"
   "Yes, we have it, why?"
   "What is necessary to make a person to be accepted in this program?"
   "Each department has its own way of choosing the patients, based on
specific circumstances, why are you asking?"
   "I know someone whose father has suffered consecutive strokes and..."
   Josh told his father about Ayrton's father situation and fed him with
details he knew at the time. The father was interested on it, mostly
because he was so proud that his son was willing to help someone without
getting anything in exchange for it.
   "Tell you what son, I'll talk to the people in the hospital, and I'll
probably wanna meet this patient myself, but I promise you I'm gonna do
whatever's in my power to get him accepted in that program, ok?"
   "Oh, dad, I think it's gonna be awesome if you can help him... You know,
it must be hard for Ayrton to handle all these medical bills and stuff..."
   "Don't worry, I understand that."
   Josh's speech reminded his father of himself when he first chose to
pursue the medical career. It was not about money, being recognized, it was
all about helping people to live better... Being able to feel it once again
was amazing, his son provided it to him. If he was a little more emotional,
he'd have cried right there, but Mr. Davenport wasn't like that.

------

   It had been a long working night to Richard Desbordes. Alongside with
his editor and other two journalists, and the graphic artist from the
paper, they had everything almost ready for the Sunday edition. All Rick
wanted now was to get to his shower, his sofa and booze himself to
sleep. He walked out of the Gazette building as he usually did and turned
to the alley where he'd parked his car. There was a man waiting for him in
the dark, head covered with a hood. He felt a chill working its way up his
spine but didn't hesitate. What would happen just would happen.
   "Arentcha that Richard something journalist?"
   "Who's asking?"
   "Does it matter? I have somethin to tell ya, and ya better listen good
coz I'm only gonna tell ya one time: Not all people like nosy journalist
diggin' through what they ain't supposed to be diggin'. Ya hear me? Careful
of whatcha right down in that paper man. Might regret messin with big
guys."

   And just like that, the man walked by him, with the advantage of the
dark alley and the hood that would prevent identification. That voice was
downright criminal.
   Richard quickly entered his car and drove away while struggling to dial
the editor's number.
   "It's me. Listen. I've just been threatened on my way out of the
paper... Yes, I don't know who's that... Listen to me. Don't leave anything
on the computers. Have it all uploaded to the cloud. Please, it's
important. I don't know but probably it's from the Monteiros, or the
lawyer, or even the cops, who knows it? I'm gonna go down to that hotel,
talk to those FBI guys... I understand... Yes... Ok, just do what I said,
upload the whole damned thing to the cloud and clean up the computers, we
can't have those people digging through what we know. They think they can
scare us, and they're right, I'm scared to shit my pants but I'm not gonna
be intimidated by them... Ok I will... Uh, one more thing, get the
surveillance camera videos and make a copy of it. It can be used... Take
care you too... All right, see you tomorrow."

   Richard searched the spot that was closest to the hotel door. He got the
receptionist to phone Agent O'Neal's room. Yes it is urgent. It's a
freaking emergency, just call the damned guy!
   "All right mister journalist, what's so urgent that makes you come to me
this late?"
   "I've been threatened."
   "By whom?"
   "You guys are desperate but I scratched you out of my list. So I suppose
it's the people from Monteiro family, his lawyer or the cops that are
helping them."
   "I suppose those cops have names, right?"
   "What are you trying to negotiate?"
   "You said yourself, we're desperate."
   "Where's the other agent? I can't negotiate with you alone."
   "You don't trust me?"
   "Have you ever heard of a journalist trusting an FBI agent? Or the other
way around? It's nothing against you, it's self preservation."
   "All right, lemme call him."

   "No answer. He's probably banging someone. He always does that. Gotta
tell you, that guy has a very active sexual life."
   "I envy him. All I'm doing these days is a bottle of booze."
   "That makes us two. Wanna drink something while we wait for him?"
   "Bring the bottle over here. Don't wanna risk you dozing me with
something to get me talking."
   "You think I'd sink so low?"
   "You bet I think! I would do it myself if I had to."
   "All right. You ok with Jack?"
   "And coke, please."
   "I'm gonna call the lobby to bring us those individual Jack bottles, ok?
So none of us have to trust each other."
   "Fine by me."

   O'Neal was right. Carlson spotted this bell boy while they were checking
in the hotel. The ability to 'read' people they learn in FBI helps
improving your sex life to a level beyond roof top. He noticed this young
hot boy was checking him out and during the day he thought of at least
twenty different positions he could fuck that boy. It didn't really matter
if he was 18 or 20, or whatever, as long as he was not a minor and had a
smooth tender body, he was eligible to entertain our guy Carlson.
   Carlson met him in the lobby after dinner and requested him to deliver
in his room later on something meaningless. It was just an excuse for the
guy to go up to his room. The boy understood the message perfectly.
   Oh boy, you can rely on the youth and their endless desire for sex. This
boy could suck! And not only that, when his uniform was taken away Carlson
could see what he waited for... That skinny body, small butt cheeks. The
kind of boy a muscled man like Carlson loved to be upon, and inside, for
that matter.
   The boy sucked him so eagerly, making disappear the whole shaft. That is
the magic AND it never ends. That hairless ass cracked was treated with
passion by the FBI guy, the boy hole showed this boy liked to party and
Carlson loved this kind of boy, the ones who are always up to fun, not
worrying about love, just the sex matters.
   Carlson laid on the bed and the bell boy turned his back to him and sat
his light weight body on the condom-wrapped cock. It was always wonderful
to see his member be 'eaten' by a hungry ass. That white piece of boy,
skinny as he could be started riding the athletic guy and Carlson could see
in the mirror his tiny cock banging freely up and down while the boy rode
'his horse' without a single care in the world, not even for his job. The
guy was on duty at that very moment. And what a duty that was!
   When the boy got tired of riding that bull he begged Carlson to fuck him
doggy style. Oh yeah! Those skinny twinks that are not afraid of rough sex
are the best ones...
   Carlson grabbed on his hips strong enough to leave a red spot when he
finished the service and let him have it. Deep, rough, relentlessly... The
FBI guy felt the sweat covering up his body. That's how you do it. That's
how you do this kind of boy. He'd like to make it last longer, but the boy
couldn't risk being gone for so long. It had to be more a quickie than a
longie. Better midterm. Not a quickie but not all-night-long-service
either. He knew his way through it. His thrusting let the boy know he was
about to cum so he asked the FBI agent to cum over his chest.
   "All right boy, you gonna have it the way you like it."
   Carlson ripped away the condom and let the bell boy have it on his
chest. The boy spread the cum over his smooth chest and tasted a bit of it
sucking his finger clean. He didn't even care to cleaning himself very
much. Just wiped it off with a towel, dressed back on his uniform and left
the room all very happy. After all, not every work night is as fun as this.

   Carlson showered before returning O'Neal's call.
   When Carlson got to O'Neal's room, Richard and him were acting like old
pals, meeting each other for the 20th anniversary of their high school
graduation. Richard was staging it to make O'Neal think he was wasted,
though Richard tolerance to alcohol was beyond what the agent would
think. Tiny Jack bottles piled up in the room. By the time Carlson came,
Richard had already placed his phone to record every second of their
conversation. Gotta be on the safe side.
   "What's that O'Neal? You called me here to party?"
   O'Neal was laughing.
   "No man... I called you here because this journalist guy is being
threatened and what did you want anyway?"
   Richard started talking to Carlson and explained him what he
needed. Surveillance on Monteiro Lawyer, Darlene Mayer, on the two cops,
Lopez and Miles and protection for himself. Carlson agreed with all that,
even with the promise O'Neal had made not to blow the whistle until Sunday
morning when the journalist would reveal the exact whereabouts of Capo
Monteiro. Of course, that had no legal value and as soon as Richard stepped
out of that room Carlson would pull the trigger on the operation, what
would ruin the journalist's story.
   "You're very comprehensive, Agent Carlson. But, and this is a big 'but'
probably much like the butt you were fucking shortly before, to make sure
you're gonna honor your end of this treat, I took the liberty of recording
our conversation. Actually I have it on video, all the conversation I had
with your partner here, oh and he told me stories about you... Stories that
I couldn't dare to repeat to anyone unless, of course, you don't hold on to
your word, then I'd sadly be forced to spread the information on your modus
operandi that, well, doesn't exactly fit the standard procedures of the
Federal Bureau, you know?"
   Carlson had the sudden urge to scratch the back of his head, the typical
reaction of someone who's been cornered. This Richard guy was no stupid. He
had them against the ropes.
   "Ok, you sumbitch. I'll hold on to what I promised you. But you best be
assured we're not gonna miss this Monteiro guy, or else!"
   "Oh, I'm sure of that. This guy has nowhere else to go. His kingdom is
here..."
   "All right, you're gonna have someone outside your door when you set
foot in your house."
   "Thank you very much."
   "Don't thank me, thank my stupid partner here."

------

   Josh continued reading 79 Park Avenue late that night and finished the
book. He was amazed at the writing style of Harold Robbins, and for what he
was used to, the book had though writing, with some hot scenes. He took the
poem that was inside the book once again, "One of these days" and he
wondered how was this person that so deeply in love with Shawn. How did he
look like? Josh supposed it was a "he" instead of a "she" for Shawn never
shown any signs of being straight at any point. He'd like to know more
about Shawn but he wouldn't open himself. He thought that some people were
like this, preserved privacy instead of opening their lives all at
once. Ayrton was the opposite kind of guy. In the second time they met,
Ayrton disclosed basically every single detail of his life. And there was
that kiss... Oh his kiss was good. But Shawn's was too. And also
Matt's... Oh shit! Why am I thinking about Matt? Son-of-a-bitch... Josh
fell asleep while thinking about Matt, the whole life they shared as
friends, the improvement their relationship had since they added sex to it
and, sadly, how short it was until... Oh, forget it, Josh!

   Shawn went to his room thinking about the money that Josh and he would
get after the selling of that jewelry. It could be enough for his father
cover college and build up some savings for the future. He wished he could
go back in time and do things different. That would be nice but ultimately
impossible. You can't change what's done. You just learn to live with it,
doesn't matter how hard it is. His phone rang to save Shawn from himself.

   "Oh, hey Matt."
   "Whatcha doin?"
   "Nothing, I was going to bed already."
   "Really, that early?"
   "Yeah... Uh, wait, I don't even know what time it is."
   "It's, uh, eleven something."
   "It's not that early to call it a night."
   "Night's still young. Why don't we meet?"
   "You mean, now?"
   "Yeah."
   "What for?"
   "I dunno man, talk?"
   "Ok. Where?"
   "Are you familiar with the park that's across the street where you met
me the other day, when you left the bus?"
   "Yes, I know the place."
   "So, how 'bout we meet there?"
   "Is it safe?"
   "Dude, it's Mount Pleasant we're talking about. I dunno how things were
in Michigan where you lived..."
   "Mississippi, Matt. Miss."
   "Aw! Michigan, Mississippi, Mister Sippi, whatever, Mount Pleasant is
cool, you know..."
   "Ok, ok, ok, ok. I'll meet you there."
   "Thirty minutes, at the bus stop."
   "All right. See ya there."

   Matt arrived just in time, and Shawn came two minutes after.
   "Hi, Shawn."
   "Hi. What got into you? Calling me almost midnight, saying you wanna
meet me?"
   "You said you're my friend, remember?"
   "I do but... I didn't read the contract. I didn't know one of the
clauses were that you might need meeting me late at night."
   "I wanted to talk. AND I didn't force you to come. You're like five
minutes away from your house, you know? I'm twenty five minutes far."
   "Fair enough. But only if Josh is not the only topic we're talking
about."
   "Why?"
   "If we only talk about Josh, then you'd be using me, much like he claims
you did to him, you know? Then I won't have any condition to defend you."
   "All right. Done talking about Josh."

   They crossed the street and did not mention Josh not a single time. They
talked about Matt's family, his brother, how miserable he made Matt's life
when they were younger, what they expected from school this year, and this
moment was hard to Matt because talking about school meant that Josh was
involved in it. He went through it without mentioning Josh. Shawn was proud
of him. If Josh never came to forgive him, it was good preparation for
forthcoming times. They sat on a bench close to each other, mostly because
of the weak lighting filtered by the treetops. You know, this thing of
being too close does not work out. Seriously. I mean, if there's no problem
with the consequences of being too close, then it's ok. Shawn and Matt
didn't have no commitments, so the event the followed shouldn't be a
problem. Now understanding why they felt so bad with what happened is
another thing.
   As they were talking, close to each other under that weak lighting, one
thing led to another, and they ended touching and kissing. It was
meaningless, really. Just a kiss. They both liked it, though they felt like
cheating on Josh somehow. That damned thing felt like wrong and maybe
because of that it felt so freaking good! They kissed again. It lasted
longer. If you were sixteen once, you very much understand that kissing at
that age is not only kissing, the groping is an mandatory part of kissing.
Matt and Shawn, you guys are walking down a very dangerous road. Be
careful.

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End of chapter 12.
Next chapter shows the last weekend of summer vacation.
The complete story on the Monteiro escaping will be published.
What about Matt and Shawn? Josh and Matt? Shawn and Josh?
Will Monteiro be arrested? And what about the money?
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