Date: Sat, 14 Jul 2012 16:52:00 -0400
From: Cy-kun <cysanonymouslyanonymousemail@gmail.com>
Subject: Oh Radio Tell Me Everything You Know Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Sex: This story has it, again, eventually. And it's between
boys. If that bothers you, or you don't like stories that don't jump into
the sex right away, then this probably isn't for you. Copyrighted material:
Again, this story has it. I don't own the copyrights, I don't pretend to,
and this is free so I can't get sued anyway. True stories: This is not
based on one.

Introduction: Two down, one to go. And this one's even early. I'm gonna do
something that ALWAYS comes back to bite me in the ass and say that I'm
definitely gonna that third chapter out this month b^_^ Oh, and chapter 16
is coming up soon so everyone who remembers what I said a few weeks ago can
start getting ready to laugh at me because there's no way I'm gonna have
this finished by then, lol. And I just realized how freaking AWESOME it
would have been to have chapter 13 out on Friday the 13th. *sigh* Oh
well. Enjoy!

	-Cy

-------------------------------------------


	I whistled 'The Tale of Sir Robin' as I locked my bike in the
garage and walked up to my front door.

	I was actually kinda surprised I COULD whistle since I'd never
really done it before, but I was feeling an awesome, 'shout to the world'
kind of satisfaction and since I didn't wanna start singing or actually
shouting to the world , whistling was the only thing to do. I felt good,
better than good actually. Owen loved me, and I talked back to people when
I wanted to and how I wanted to.

	And then bravely rode away.

	Still, it felt great. And it was Saturday so I had a whole other
day of feeling good about it before I had to start worrying about hiding
from Jarred for a week. Life was good.

	"Andrew, can you come in here for a minute?" my mom called from the
living room as I walked by. The whistle died in my throat but I didn't feel
all that embarrassed about being overheard. It's weird, but I don't get all
awkward with my parents that much.

	"Yeah, what-" I stopped short just after walking in the room. My
dad was in his chair, a cigar in one hand, and my mom was sitting on the
couch with a book in her lap. Nothing weird there. Except the TV was
off. And the book was closed instead of opened to the page she was
reading. And they were both staring at me.

	"Um," I swallowed. "What's up?"

	"Did you have fun at your friend's?" my mom asked.

	Don't grin! Don't grin! Don't grin! "Yeah." I said. I was pretty
proud how clearly I was able to get that out while biting the inside of my
cheek.

	"Hm." my mom pursed her lips and I felt a tiny bit of
apprehension. Why the hell is she pulling out her 'not happy' face? "Is he
ever going to come over here?"

	I blinked, confused at the out of nowhere question. "Wha-"

	"Because I don't know if I like you spending so much time with
someone I've never met."

	"I've only been over there twice!" I said. Defensively? Yeah,
maybe. But totally deserved. She didn't have any problem last week when I
told her about spending the day at Owen's. Why is she suddenly acting like
I just got caught sneaking out of the house?

	"We got a call from your school yesterday." my dad said, talking
for the first time since I got home. He gave my mom a look that I couldn't
read but she tightened her lips in a way that said she didn't exactly agree
with something.

	I frantically tried to think if I did anything that might get a
call ho- Oh crap. My "fight" with Brandon. Did Coach Williams actually
report me? But that happened in the beginning of the week? Why would they
just call now? "Oh?" I asked as casually as I could.

	"Have you been skipping class?" he asked.

	"It wasn't my-!" I cut myself off, then frowned. Wait, this is
about THAT? "Um, huh?" Not the best response but I was still half trying to
figure out how to justify getting in another "fight". And what does any of
this have to do wit me going over to Owen's?

	"Your principal said that you skipped sixth period three times this
week." my mom answered. I could tell she was upset because some of her
"Jersey tawk" was slipping in. 'Your' sounded like 'yaw' and she drew out
the I in 'times' way longer than anyone ever should. "Is that true?"

	See, I hate questions like that. They already KNOW it's true yet
they still ask like there's ANY chance that if you just say 'no' they'll
believe you instead of getting pissed at you for lying too. If that isn't
entrapment I don't know what is.

	"Um, yeah." I said. I glanced at my dad, half expecting him to fly
off the handle because 'a Baxter doesn't skip class' but he didn't really
seem all that upset. I guess skipping sixth period is something Baxter's
actually do.

	My mom shot my dad a satisfied look, but when she turned back to me
she just looked mad. "You never used to skip class. Not before you started
hanging out with that boy."

	"It's not Owen's fault!" I yelled. Technically true. It's my fault
for agreeing to Owen's suggestion that I skip. I had no idea where this
crap was coming from but there was no WAY I was gonna let her blame
anything on Owen.

	"So you aren't skipping class to hang out with him?" she asked,
raising a skeptical eyebrow.

	"No!" Yes. "I'm not!" I so am.

	"Then what are you doing?" my dad asked calmly.

	"....." I blinked. "What?" I asked stupidly.

	"If you're not hanging out with your new friend, why are you
skipping class?" he asked.

	"I-" I swallowed. Shit. I have no idea how to finish that. I
frantically scrambled for an explanation. I was helping a teacher set up a
class project? No, then they'll just call the teacher and find out I'm
lying. Maybe I was hiding from bullies that were harassing me after class?
More believable but that would just send my mom into a parent defense rage
and I'll get dragged into the principal's office and have to give up names
and, yeah, we've already been over what happens when I do that. Dammit! I
need someth- Oh! I can blame Cheryl! "I was with Cheryl!" I blurted
out. "We were, um," Shitshitshit! Think of something! "We were behind the
bleachers in the football field, um.....smoking!" I winced, closed my
mouth, and sighed in defeat. "Ok, fine, I was with Owen. But it wasn't his
fault! I just skipped because I wanted to eat lunch with him and his
friends and they don't eat seventh so...." I trailed off and
shrugged. "Blame me?"

	Yeah, kinda asking for punishment there. But it was really
important that they didn't think of Owen as some kind of corrupting bad boy
or something.

	My eyes shot back and forth between my parents. My mom looked
pissed. Which was a bit surprising because she's usually not the one
leading the "let's punish Andy" charge. My dad.... I blinked again. My dad
was hiding a smirk behind his hand. Badly.

	"Andrew?" My mom asked sharply, my head shot around but she was
looking at my dad. Sometimes it's REALLY confusing having the same name as
your dad.

	My dad sighed. "Sorry. But this isn't really that big a deal, is
it?"

	I don't know who was more surprised, me or my mom. "Of course it
is! If Andrew's hanging around with people who are making him skip class-"

	"No one made me do anything!" I yelled. "I WANTED to
skip. I. ME. MYSELF. I DID IT."

	"And that's why we have Andy invite his friend over for dinner next
weekend." my dad said, totally ignoring me. "To make sure he isn't a bad
influence."

	My throat dried up. "What?" I croaked.

	"Do you have a problem with that?" my dad asked sharply, giving me
a stern look.

	Well, yeah only about a freaking million, thanks for asking. But I
got what the look meant. For some reason my dad was on my side. But if I
didn't agree to have Owen over, that would change pretty fast. I still
didn't get why my mom was getting this pissy about skipping three classes,
but she was blaming Owen and I wasn't stupid enough to know exactly what my
first punishment would be if my dad didn't talk her out of it. No more
Owen. My heart wanted to die just at the thought. "No." I said
quietly. "I'll invite him."

	"Good!" he grinned. "Then that's settled-"

	"No it's not." My mom cut in.

	"Sarah," my dad sighed.

	"He's skipping class Andrew." my mom said. "We can't just ignore
that."

	Another look passed between them. Again I had no idea what it
meant, but it seemed important. Apparently my dad agreed because he sighed
in a way I'd almost never heard from him. Defeated. "Ok, you're right." he
turned to me. "No TV for the rest of the week and no going anywhere
tomorrow. And NO arguments." he added firmly.

	I let out a breath I didn't even know I'd been holding. He didn't
take my phone away. With that being my only way to talk to Owen AND with my
brand new background that would have been.....yeah, horrible. "Fine." I
said. "Can I go now?"

	"No." My mom said. "Give me Owen's phone number. I want to talk to
his mother."

	I groaned and to my horror felt a tiny blush. "Mom! Please
don't. Calling up my b- friends mom? That's so....third grade." I tried not
to panic at almost saying 'boyfriend'.

	Thankfully she didn't notice. "So is skipping class."

	"We only have one class in third grade." I shot back.

	"You know what I mean." she picked up a pad of paper and a pen from
the end table next to her. "Phone number." she demanded.

	I scrolled through my phone and gave it to her. Luckily Amy gave me
their home number before I left so I didn't have to put Owen through even
more embarrassment by having my mom call his phone and ask to talk to his
mother. God, what the hell is this, the nineties? Who DOES this stuff?

	Actually, maybe everybody. What the hell would I know about how
parents act towards their kids friends? Suddenly, I was very glad Brandon
never made any effort to be friends with me. The thought of Brandon
freaking Carroll sitting down to dinner with my parents was even worse than
inflicting that on Owen.

	"Can I PLEASE go now?" I begged when she was done writing it down.

	"Yes." she nodded. I turned to go. "To your room." she added
sharply, like there was anyplace else I'd go. I bit my lip to keep from
pointing that out -the goal here is to LEAVE remember?- and ran up to my
room.

	When I was safely inside I closed my door and leaned against it. I
sighed.

	I was having such a great day too. Owen said he loved me. I didn't
let Jarred and Amanda bother me, hell I stood up to them! And now this. My
own freaking parents are the ones that mess up my perfect day. Well, maybe
not my dad. He seemed pretty calm about the whole thing. My mom. I'm not
really dramatic -shut UP Cheryl voice!- but I wanted to go back downstairs
and scream "BETRAYAL!" at the top of my lungs while pointing at her.

	Actually, no. No I didn't. I just wanted to get back to where I was
before. Happy and satisfied and swimming in a pool of pure, lovely
bliss. But instead of just laying in bed and reliving everything that
happened in Owen's room a million times and melting into a puddle of goo,
now I had to worry about Owen coming over and meeting my parents for the
first time while my mom's convinced he's turning me into.....I dunno even
know what. A troublemaker? Class skipper? What the hell would you ever call
someone who skips one class but follows all the rest of the rules?

	A normal kid. That's what.

	I sighed again. This wasn't helping. Even if I did kinda like
thinking of myself as normal for once. My mom was probably calling Owen's
mom right now- shit! I needed to warn him!

	I pushed myself off the door and stalked over to my phone charger,
before I remembered my phone was in my pocket. I felt my face heat up,
which was stupid because no one was around to see, then sat down on my bed
and called.

	"Hi." Owen answered. His voice was low and smooth and maybe a
little satisfied. "Couldn't wait to talk to me again huh?" he teased.

	I giggled, and totally forgot why I was calling. "Is it weird that
I already miss you, a lot?"

	"No." he said. "I missed you the second you left."

	A sappy grin pulled at my lips and I made a little noise that may
or may not have been a tiny squee. Awwwww! How can you NOT love someone who
says things like that? God, I just wanted to hop back on my bike and go
over and give him the biggest hug and-no! I can't leave the
house. Punished. Mom calling Nurse Amy. Focus!

	"Um, that's not why I called. I mean! Not that I don't love hearing
that, because I do, and that's love, I mean WHY I love you, one reason and,
shit, sorry, but I called because my mom's calling your mom and she knows
about the skipping and-"

	"Wait, wait." Owen cut me off. "Calm down, ok?" he said it
soothingly and not at all annoyed but I still mentally kicked myself for
not being able to put a sentence together.

	"Ok. Ok, I'm calm." I said quickly and not at all calmly. "But-"

	"No." he cut me off again. "You're NOT calm. Seriously. Just take a
breath. I'm not gonna die if you don't get it all out in the next second."
There was a short pause. "Unless you're trying to tell me that there's
someone coming here to kill me then, please, keep going."

	I laughed, some of the tension and not-calmness easing away. "How
do you always know exactly the right thing to say to make me feel better
about anything?" It wasn't what I meant to say, but I didn't really mind
that it slipped out.

	"I dunno." he answered. "But I'm glad I do. I always wished I
could. Every time I saw you in the halls looking sad I wished I could walk
up to you and say something that would make it all better. But I was too
shy." he sighed softly. "I'm really sorry I didn't."

	My heart fluttered the way it did every time he said something like
that. "It doesn't matter. I'd go through all that again times a million
just to hear you say you love me." I paused, then ruined the moment. "That
wasn't too sappy, was it?"

	Owen laughed softly. "No. It wasn't. And I do love you."

	Our first time saying it over the phone! My heart was beyond
fluttering now. "I love you too."

	We sat in a happy silence for a few moments. I couldn't stop
smiling and I'd like to think Owen looked the same way. He looks so good
when he smiles. "So," he said eventually. "If you didn't call because you
miss me so much, why did you?"

	"I do miss you." I said instantly, but a million times calmer than
before. "So much. But I called to warn you. The school called my mom about
skipping to eat with you and she flipped out and she's gonna call your mom
and try to get you in trouble, I think."

	"Oh, really?" he sounded more curious than concerned. I never got a
chance to ask about it though. "They told my mom before she left on
Friday. She just got some make up work and told me not to do it again. Your
mom's seriously calling?" he seemed amused.

	"Um, yeah." I said. "Your mom's awesome." I added wonderingly.

	"Eh." he answered and I giggled.

	"But, um, that's not everything." I reluctantly said. "My mom, um,
kinda blames you for me skipping. And, uh, you sorta have to come over for
dinner next weekend and convince her you're not corrupting me."

	"Seriously?" He sounded less amused this time.

	"Yeah." I winced inwardly. "Sorry."

	"It's ok." he said. "Um....is your dad gonna be there?"

	Owen sounded worried and I immediately knew why. I'd talked about
my dad a lot with him and I might have overplayed the doom bits and
underplayed the good stuff. It helped me feel better venting to someone who
wasn't Cheryl but I wondered if I made Owen a bit scared of my dad.

	"Yeah, but it's fine." I quickly reassured him. "He doesn't even
care about the skipping thing. It's my mom you need to worry about." Shit!
Don't say it like that! "Um! Not worry I mean, just, impress. Ok that's not
any better. I meant she's the one that you need to...." I sighed. "I don't
even know. Just be yourself so she doesn't think you're a bad influence or
whatever."

	Owen giggled, but it seemed strained. "Ok. I'll try."

	My chest tightened up. God I knew EXACTLY how he felt. I knew how
freaked the fuck out I'd be if he just called and told me his mom thought I
was bad for her son before meeting her for the first time. I'd probably
have had three heart attacks by now. Owen was taking it better than I
would, but most people probably would. It didn't mean he wasn't still
nervous or scared though.

	"I'm sorry." I said. "This is all my fault."

	"No." he said. "It's not, at all. I'm the one who asked you to
skip, so, she's kinda right. Um...."

	"What?" I asked when he didn't say anything after like half a
minute.

	"Is....do you think your dad will....know?"

	I felt a familiar cold ball of dread form in my chest, but I pushed
it away. Owen had asked the one thing that scared me the most about him
meeting my parents. Like my dad would take one look at us and know we were
together and all hell would break loose. But something about the way he
asked sparked sudden understanding inside of me. He wasn't asking because
he was worried about him. He was worried about making things worse for
ME. The same way I almost gave myself a stroke worrying about outing him to
my friends. It made me feel so loved. And it made me want to erase any
worry he had.

	After all, that's what boyfriends do, right?

	"No." I tried to sound as reassuring as I could without knowing-no,
I tried to sound even MORE reassuring than I could. I needed to go beyond
what I could normally do for Owen. "He definitely won't."

	I heard a soft, relieved sigh. I didn't think I was supposed to
hear it, but it made me feel almost as important as I did when we were in
bed together. I couldn't stop the self satisfied grin even if I wanted to.

	"Ok." he said. "Good."

	"Well, unless you start molesting me the second you walk through
the door. That'd kinda give it away." I joked.

	Owen gave a surprised snort, then chuckled. "Yeah, that would
probably be a bad idea." Yes! Mood freaking lifted! "I'll try to keep my
hands to myself but.....you're pretty irresistible." His voice lowered into
his flirty tone and I shivered.

	"O-oh?" I croaked. I swallowed hard. "You're pretty s-sexy
yourself." I was ridiculously proud at myself for flirting back.

	"I could tell."

	I knew exactly what he was talking about, and I flushed. Not from
embarrassment, but pleasure. God, does it make me a slut that I wish I
could do that with him again, right now? "I-" I cut myself off, remembering
something I'd meant to ask when I got home anyway. This time the heat on my
face was pure embarrassment. "Um, did you....I mean
my....um....underwear...." Jesus I couldn't even ask.

	"Don't worry, I hid them." he reassured and I let out a relieved
breath. By the time we'd stopped cuddling and kissing after saying we loved
each other we were both pretty uncomfortable and , uh, crusting over down
there so we had to change. I didn't have anything else to wear so I
borrowed a pair of Owen's underwear (not even going into how naughty and
good that felt. They were even my first pair of boxer briefs!) and since
mine wouldn't fit in my pockets without being a really obvious bulge, Owen
offered to hide them for me. I wanted to shove them in the bottom of the
nearest garbage, but he didn't wanna throw away anything from our 'first
time', as he put it. It was really sweet.

	"Th-thanks." I said. "Um, not that I don't trust you but....where?"

	Owen laughed. "In the bottom of my sock drawer. Don't worry, my mom
never goes in there."

	"Are you sure?" I didn't wanna keep going with this, but Owen's mom
finding my cum stained underwear was now one of my top three biggest
fears. It actually pushed 'being murdered by Coach Williams' down a slot.

	"Definitely." he laughed again, but this time it sounded slightly
awkward. "She told me she's never going in there again. A while back she
found a, um, 'special' sock in there....."

	I choked when I realized what he meant, although I couldn't tell if
it was on horror or laughter. "Oh-! God!" I swallowed
roughly. "That's....horrible!" I tried to sound sympathetic, but the
giggling kinda killed any chance of that.

	"It's not that funny." he grumbled. I could hear the smirk in his
voice, so I didn't get worried about pissing him off.

	"Sorry!" I held back a snort. "No, really, I'm sorry. It's
just.....that would have KILLED me if it happened to me but thinking about
it happening to you is...." There is no good way to finish that sentence.

	"Funny?" Owen teased.

	"No! Well, yeah, maybe." I added self consciously. "I'm sorry. I
don't know why I'm laughing so much."

	"Don't be." he said. "It WAS kinda funny. She was all awkward about
it too and wouldn't look me in the eye when she told me about finding
it. Besides, I love it when you laugh."

	I flushed with pleased embarrassment. "I love that.....you." God
I'm such a dork.

	Owen sighed happily. "I love when you get all cute like this." I
blushed. "I bet your all blushing and adorable right now, aren't you?" I
blushed harder.

	"N-no!" I sputtered. Then I sighed when I realized how incredibly
unconvincing that way. "Ok, maybe."

	"I wish I could be there."

	"Me too." I said.

	We were quiet for a minute or two. I wanted to say 'why don't you
come over?' in the worst way. If my stupid school hadn't called I might
have actually done it. I missed him and it would be the perfect way for him
to meet my parents. Just a quick 'Hi Mr and Mrs Baxter, I'm Owen' then I'd
shuffle him up to my room and just enjoy having him there. Maybe we could
even, um, DO something again. I was surprised by how much I wanted to.

	I really hope I don't end up running out of underwear.

	"So," Owen said, breaking the silence. I had a tiny flash of panic
that he was waiting for me to invite him over that whole time and he was
upset that I didn't, but the I remembered how much he didn't wanna meet my
dad and, yeah, maybe we should stop trying to find things to freak out
about, hm Andy? "What do you do?"

	"Huh?" I asked.

	"Do you have a 'sock' too?" he asked mischievously.

	And there we go, zero to blush in .2 seconds. "I-um, I.....no
I....um....in the shower...." I stammered. God why is this still so
embarrassing? I made him cum in his pants not even three hours ago! This
shouldn't be this awkward. Or maybe that's why it's awkward, I dunno.

	"Really?" he asked. "Wow, I could never do that standing up. And
I'd rather have porn. So, what do you think about?"

	Why isn't this embarrassing him?!!? Because he doesn't have half
the problems you do. Still, even knowing that I was being the weird one
here, I blushed even harder. Especially considering my answer. "I-I-I-, um,
I.....the thing is....I swear I'm not a, you know, pervert or stalker or
anything but, um, ever since we started talking....I...." I closed my
eyes. Shit, I can't even say it.

	Luckily I didn't need to. "You think about me?" he asked gleefully.

	"Um, maybe." I mumbled.

	"Ever since we started talking?"

	"Th-the next morning."

	"That is so sweet. And sexy." he said. "Seriously, I think I love
you even more now."

	"You have a weird definition of sweet." I said dryly. But my chest
still got wonderfully tight. "And...thanks." I wanted to say 'for loving
me' but this whole conversation was strange enough without me quoting Bon
Jovi lyrics.

	"You're-" he cut himself off. "Damn, my mom's knocking. I guess
yours really did call."

	I was suddenly worried for him. It sucked, but at least it pushed
the awkward embarrassment away. "Are you really gonna be ok? She's not
gonna ground you or anything, right?"

	"No. She never does." Just another reason why Nurse Amy is so
awesome. And now I'm jealous. "Hold on." he said, then a tinny, "I'll be
there in a second!" came through the phone that I guessed he was holding
away from his head. "I'm sorry, I really have to go."

	"It's ok." It wasn't, but that's what you say in situations like
this. "Will I see you on Monday?"

	"Hell yes. I'll wait by your locker after fifth ok?"

	I let out a breath and a tiny bit of tension left my body. It
wasn't lunch, but at least I knew I was gonna see him. "I can't wait."

	"Me either." he said. "I love you."

	"I love you too." I said with a smile.

	"Bye." he said.

	"Bye."

	We hung up.

	I sighed and laid down on my bed. It was stupid and very teenage
girl, but I hugged my phone to my chest like I could squeeze the last
remaining echo of Owen's voice out of it.

	I felt better. Don't get me wrong, the idea of dinner still
terrified me. Despite what I told Owen, there was still a part of me that
was scared my dad would take one look at Owen and me together and KNOW. And
my mom was an unknown. She usually never gets this upset about something
unless my dad's already there ahead of her. I wondered what the hell was
going on there, but after a few minutes of thinking about it and getting
stressed I stopped. Thinking, not worrying. Because, yeah, me not worry?
Kinda impossible. But I still felt better. Owen just does that for me.

	I tried to block all my worries out of my head even though I knew
it was pointless. I turned over on my side and clutched my extra pillow
tightly, remembering how Owen felt in my arms and, even better, how I felt
in his. I wished I could wrap him around me right now. If I was on the
bottom floor maybe I could have sneaked him in the window. But then if my
mom walked in she'd just hate him even more and then my dad would
DEFINITELY find out and-god, stop thinking about this! You have enough to
worry about without making shit up too.

	I rolled over again and tried even harder to push everything out of
my head except Owen. I wasn't very successful. I tossed and turned and
eventually it got dark and I tried to sleep, then tossed and turned some
more. It took me a while, but eventually I fell into a restless sleep.

	I didn't even get to dream about Owen.

**


	"So, what DID you dream about?" Cheryl asked the next day at lunch.

	"Huh?" I blinked, then mentally shook myself.

	"This is the fifth time you complained about not dreaming about
Owen since we sat down. I would think the locker or your history book or
the bathroom thing would be more of a thing than your dreams, but, ok, so,
what did you dream about that should have been radio boy?"

	I blinked again, still not exactly ready to focus on answering
questions. It wasn't the first one Cheryl asked since lunch started, but
all the rest were in between her ranting about how she wanted to kill
Jarred and Simon so I didn't think she wanted me to really answer. Had I
really talked about not dreaming about Owen that much? Damn, I must be more
upset by today than I thought.

	Which is completely understandable, I guess.

	It's not everyday you find the word 'cocksucker' spray painted on
your locker. And even that might not have been too bad. It was a shock,
sure. Even though I usually think I've been through pretty much everything
that isn't a major felony that people can do to another person, sometimes I
still get surprised with something new. But the black painted 'coc' that
was started on the locker to my left kinda killed some of the stunned
sting. Leave it to Jarred and his idiot friends to start on the wrong
locker. The thought still almost made me smile. But then thinking about
what came next stopped it in it's tracks.

	"Hello? Shithole High to Andy?" Cheryl sing-songed with a slow hand
wave in front of my face.

	I blinked, but this time I shook my head for real, trying to clear
my head and listen to her. "What?"

	"Your dream?" she prompted with a raised eyebrow. I was probably
the only person in the world that could pick out the concern behind the
mildly annoyed expression.

	"Oh." I wet my suddenly too dry lips. "My dad. I dreamed about my
dad."

	Now it was Cheryl's turn to blink. "Your dad?"

	I sighed. "Yeah." I tried to hold back a tiny shudder as I
remembered the dream. Well, as much as I could anyway.

	"What happened?" she asked, not even hiding her concern now. I'm
not usually one for nightmares and the few times I did have them they were
pretty bad. Having one about my dad.....says things.

	"It was...." I swallowed. "It was about dinner this week. I told
you about that, right?" I suddenly had no idea what I'd been talking about
all period. I wonder if that was the lack of sleep, or the stress?

	"Yeah." she nodded, then added. "Three times."

	Wow. I really am out of it. I wonder if any of the kids that sell
drugs in the back parking lot have some sleeping pills? Eh, not like I have
any money anyway.

	"Ok, well, Owen had just shown up and I was introducing him to my
mom when my dad ran in from the other room. He shoved me out of the way and
grabbed Owen and started screaming about how he killed our family and I
tried to pull him off but he didn't even look at me, just kept yelling and
yelling and I was screaming for him to let go because Owen was crying and
my mom was just standing there, letting it all happen." I took a few deep
breaths. "Then I woke up. I think. That's all I remember anyway." I
shuddered. Why couldn't I have dreamed about Owen instead?

	"That's...." Cheryl said after a few moments of
silence. "Weird. Not as weird as the one about Jarred and Mr Rogers, but
still, weird." Her tiny smiled died when I didn't even chuckle. "Ok, stupid
question, but are you ok?"

	I shrugged, then scowled. Damn, shirt's still damp. "Maybe. If it
was just the dream or the locker or the other stuff then yeah. But now? I
have no idea."

	Cheryl sighed, then got up. My eyes followed her as she walked
around the table but I wasn't really paying attention. Which is the ONLY
reason she got her arms around me without me bolting across the room. Over
tables if I had to. "What the hell-" I stiffened and tried to pull away but
her arms tightened and she wouldn't let me move. Sometimes I forget just
how ridiculously strong she is. And that's compared to people with upper
body strength.

	"Quiet. I'm hugging you." she cut me off. "I don't think anyone's
ever needed a hug more than you do right now and radio boy isn't here, so
I'm doing it. Just sit there and absorb my comfort."

	I let out a snort of laughter. I didn't at all feel like it, but it
was either that or start bawling, so I'm happy with my choice.

	"People are looking at us." I said a few seconds later.

	"No they're not. And if they are so what? Maybe they'll think we're
together and stop thinking you're gay."

	"Because that worked so well for Brandon." I rolled my eyes, but a
small smile tugged at my lips. It felt good. I think it was the first time
I'd smiled all day since I saw Owen at my locker. A slightly longing sigh
slipped out of my mouth.

	"Ok, you can't be thinking about radio boy when I'm hugging you."
Cheryl said. "That's just creepy."

	"Then stop hugging me." I tried to squirm away again. "You're just
getting yourself all wet anyway." Not to mention I probably didn't smell
that great up close. I paused for a second. "And how do you know I'm
thinking about him?"

	"You're not that wet." she said, but she let go anyway. I was
glad. As much as I needed to feel like there was something between me and
the world right now, Cheryl hugging me was just weird. On so many
levels. Still, it wasn't completely horrible, I guess. "And please," she
scoffed as she sat back down in her chair. "you only ever make noises like
that when you're thinking about him. It's like, one of those involuntary
reaction things we learned about in health. He's your knee reflex thingy."

	"Knee reflex thingy?" I shook my head. "And I ever wondered why you
were single."

	"Oh, so sorry I can't come up with romantic crap like-" her voice
got higher and overly dramatic "-my heart is melting and I'm turning into a
pile of goo just because he sounds like he's smiling over the phone."

	I blushed. Why the hell did I ever try to really answer her when
she asked me what it was like to be in love? "Shut up." I grumbled. "You're
just jealous that I actually have a boyfriend." I tried for a glare, but I
was just a little too relieved that I was feeling something besides
humiliation and stress to pull it off.

	"Well, if I had a boyfriend I wouldn't pussy out about telling him
I loved him." she shot back smugly.

	And just like that, I felt like I was back in my oasis. The
invisible bubble that shielded me from the rest of the world for so long
before Owen was there again, muting everyone else and letting me focus on
the things that made me happy. Before it was usually Cheryl and my
parents. Now, I had a lot more to be happy about. Today was suddenly
bearable.

	The grin was so wide it was almost painful.

	I went to brush my air behind my ear before remembering that I wore
it tied back today for Owen. Strangely enough, that didn't make me feel
exposed. If anything it made my smile even wider.

	"What? What are you smiling about?" she asked suspiciously. Then
her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "Holy shit! Did you tell him?"
Even with how surprised she was she still kept her voice down so no one
could overhear us. It kinda made me wanna hug her again.

	I nodded. "Yep." I chirped happily. "I did."

	"Wow. I'm....impressed. I really didn't think you'd-well, whatever,
you did. So, what happened? Did he...?"

	I nodded again and giggled. "He said it back!" God! It felt so good
telling someone. Why the hell didn't I call Cheryl last night? Maybe I
wouldn't have had that dream.....no! No thinking about any of that
stuff. Focus on talking about Owen!

	"Wow." she said again, softly this time. "I'm really happy for
you. Really."

	I smiled at her. "Thanks." She smiled back. We might have had a
moment. Any other time it would have been creepy, like the hug. But right
now I just soaked up how great it felt to be in love and have my best
friend be happy for me."

	"So, tell me about it." she said a few seconds later.

	My smile turned into a smirk and I couldn't resist. "I can't
believe you actually wanna know. Is Cheryl finally turning into a girl?"

	"Oh shut up!" she stuck her tongue out at me. "Do you really wanna
get into which one of us is more like a girl, or do you wanna tell me about
how you grew a pair and told your boy you love him?" She arched an
eyebrow. I back down immediately. She had way too much ammo for that
fight. I may have had some pretty good 'Cheryl might have a penis' mortars
to throw back at her, but today was probably the last day I wanted to think
about my manly shortcomings.

	Plus I just KNEW she was gonna bring up the time she walked in on
me singing 'Love Story' into my remote like it was a microphone. ...and now
you get to forget I just said that.

	So I told her about our date. It was like taking a hot shower after
crawling through mud for an hour. The dirt of everything that had happened
today washed off me as I talked about telling the boy I loved how important
he was to me. It made me wish for one crazy second that I could just tell
all this to my mom. There's no way anyone that can make her son feel like
this could be bad, even she'd have to see that. By the time I was done
(well, a heavily edited version anyway) I almost didn't need the bubble
anymore. And I wanted to see Owen again in the worst way.

	"Wow." she said. "I can't believe you're freaking out actually made
you say the right thing for once."

	I laughed. "I know."

	"I'm surprised though. I thought the first time you made out in a
bed together you'd either run away screaming or cum in your pants."

	Ok, before I continue, in my defense, I didn't expect her to say
that.

	I blushed. Hard and horribly and looking back she probably would
have thought it was just my normal embarrassment about sex talk, but I had
to open my stupid mouth. "I didn't!" I yelled. People heard. They looked
over. They probably made comments and laughed at me too. I barely
noticed. "I mean-!" My eyes locked into Cheryl's and I saw the
understanding dawning in her eyes.

	For the second time today her mouth dropped open. "Oh. My. God."
she said slowly. "You didn't!"

	Part of me knew my pants were just damp from, before, but in my
mind I was sitting in front of Cheryl with my dirty underwear still filled
with my rapidly cooling cum.

	The blush was fucking nuclear.

	"You did!" she gasped accusingly. Ok, this is WAY more of a
reaction than I'd expect from just cumming in my- oh god! She thinks I had
sex!

	"No!" I hissed. God if someone overheard this.... "I didn't! Not
what you're thinking! It wasn't sex-at least I don't think it was. I just-"
The words caught in my throat and I had to force them out in a strained
choke "-Ijustrubbedagainsthimandwecameinourpantstogether!"

	The second I got it out I gulped down air. Shit, why do I feel like
I just ran a marathon?

	Cheryl stared at me. I tensed, wanting to bolt but painfully aware
that I had nowhere to go. Oh god, does she think I'm a whore? She thinks
I'm a whore. Doesn't she? Oh god AM I? Is there a date limit before you're
allowed to rub against your boyfriend? Did I-

	Cheryl burst out laughing.

	"What....," I croaked out after half a minute. "the fuck?"

	She held up her hand and shook her head, ponytail bouncing back and
forth. "Only-" she barely got that out before she started laughing
again. "Only you," she said, wiping her eyes. "would look like you just got
caught having an orgy by your mom just for rubbing off with your
boyfriend." she cracked up again.

	I frowned. The god awful humiliation was still there, but now a bit
of annoyance was creeping in. "Don't laugh at me." I growled.

	"I'm sorry." she tried to sound sincere but the laugh tears
glistening in her eyes and the hand in front of her mouth that was probably
covering a smile made it less than convincing. "Really. But you didn't see
how terrified you looked! I thought you-"

	"Ok!" I held up a hand. "I really don't wanna hear the end of that
sentence. Let's just.....stop laughing and pretend this never happened,
ok?"

	She made a show of getting herself under control. "Ok." she nodded
firmly. Her hand was down so I could see the smirk she was trying to keep
off her face. "Ok, I'm just, glad you didn't give it up yet."

	"That's not letting it go." I grumbled. "And why the hell do you
just assume I'M gonna be the one getting a penis shoved up-" I broke off
with a choke. Oh god, WHY?! did I say that?

	Cheryl made a tiny noise and her hands shot up and clamped over her
mouth, but not before I heard the noise turn into hysterical laughing. Oh
fuck, can I please just crawl in a hole and die now? Please?

	And then, mercifully, the bell rang.

	I was halfway down the hall before the echo stopped.

**

	The rest of the day didn't get much better after that. It was like
all the luck I'd had the past few weeks avoiding Jarred was all gone and
now life was trying to make up for it by having me run into him practically
every time I turned around. Even though I only had two more periods before
I left I lost count of how many times I got pushed into a wall or locker
and had by books knocked out of my hands and kicked down the hall.

	And the less said about the bus ride home, the better.

	Even getting home wasn't as much of a relief as it normally is
because I got maybe three steps inside the house before my mom pounced and
grilled me about whether of not I went to all my classes. I have no idea
how I kept from screaming at her, especially since she apparently decided
to start calling Owen 'that boy'. I mean, really, 'that boy'? 'That boy'
that I love? 'That boy' that loves me? 'That boy' who's the only reason I'm
not the bitter, miserable mess I used to be? 'That boy' that you're not
even giving a chance before judging him because I skipped THREE fucking
classes? THAT boy?

	Of course, I couldn't SAY any of that, so I just stood there and
took it and wondered if she'd ever notice my still kinda damp shirt and
pants and what I'd say if she did. She didn't, and eventually she let me go
and I trudged upstairs and collapsed into my bed.

	Then I got up, changed my clothes, and collapsed again.

	At 5:50 I swung my arm around and managed to fumble my radio on. I
listened to polka boy talking about someone named Uncle Nimra buying a
white horse, which was a cocaine reference if I've ever heard one, and then
suffered through three minutes of a polka "song" before Owen came on. I
called him before he got his first three words out.

	"Hey." he said after he got done with his intro. "How're you
doing?"

	The quiet concern in his voice relaxed me. Well, more than
balancing my phone on the side of my head and melting into my mattress
already did anyway.

	"Hey." I breathed. "I'm.....today sucked." I meant to say 'I'm
better now', which was true, but I guess I wasn't as relaxed as I felt. Or
something.

	"I'm sorry." he said, but unlike when most people say that he
actually sounded like he meant it. Like he was really apologizing that my
life wasn't as good as it should be. It's things like this that make me
wonder how I ever worried about how he felt about me. "Did they at least
clean off your locker?"

	Oh yeah, he knew about that. And why Jarred would be so pissed off,
after I told him. I almost forgot. It seemed like days since we met at my
locker today and he looked like he wanted to cut somebody's head off, he
was so pissed off for me. He even almost hugged me right there in the
hall. It was sweet, but terrifying.

	"No." I rolled my eyes even though he couldn't see it. "Hopefully
tomorrow."

	"That is SUCH bullshit." he growled and I could just picture his
outraged scowl. "I bet if somebody wrote 'cunt' on Amanda Ritter's locker
it'd be off before homeroom was over."

	I smiled slightly. "Sometimes I forget that you're a freshman. Fred
the janitor wouldn't get off his ass to clean anything unless it was acid
someone spilled on his pants. And even then only if he couldn't get out of
it somehow."

	I heard a soft laugh through the phone. "Ok, point. But still, I
hate that Jarred did that and I hate that you had to use that locker all
day." he sighed. "If I could have got over there again I would have."

	"I know." I said, my heart swelling up. God I love this boy.

	"I was worried about you all day." he admitted. "Chris and Juan
aren't really shy about telling Jarred stories, I was scared that he
did.....more."

	I winced, and probably shuddered or shifted or something too
because my phone slipped off my head and slid down to the mattress. I
groaned as I shifted from my incredibly comfortable position to pick it up
again. I decided against trying to balance it again and rolled over onto my
back and held it against my ear.

	"Andy? You there? What happened?" Owen sounded worried. It made me
smile, even if it was shaky.

	"S-sorry." I said. "I dropped the phone."

	"Ok, but, what was that noise? Something DID happen, didn't it?"

	Shit, I made a noise? "Um, I-" I swallowed. "Maybe?"

	"Andy, please. If something happened you have to tell me. I...I
don't care how bad it is, I just.....need to know, ok?"

	God, he sounded like he was freaking out. Even though part of me
knew it was stupid, I felt like it was my fault. "I'm sorry." I said.

	"No, don't apologize love, you don't need to, ok?" Owen
sighed. "I'm just....worried."

	Did he.....? "You....you called me 'love'." I said.

	"I did?" he said. "Oh, um, I'm sorry, it slipped out. I won't-"

	"No!" I yelled, and flushed. "I, um, I kinda liked it."

	A second of silence. "You did?" he sounded like he was
smiling. And, yes, I melted and turned to goo. Just a bit. "I..it's how I
think about you, you know? In my head."

	I sighed happily. "I really, really like it."

	"I'm glad." he said softly. "But, can you please tell me what
happened?" he pleaded.

	I let out a breath. "Ok." I said quietly. I didn't want to talk
about it. I'd already had my unstoppable emotional outpouring with Cheryl
in the lunch room. Telling it again, especially when all I wanted to do was
listen to Owen call me love for the next few hours or so, probably wasn't
gonna make me feel any better than just talking to Owen would anyway. But,
this wasn't about me. Owen was upset, worried. And like he'd done so many
times with me, now I had to make him feel better. It was terrifying. Not
talking about it, but that I had that much influence over whether or not he
was happy. I never wanted that, and normally I'd have no idea what to do to
make someone happy. Hell, I can barely make myself happy. But if talking
about what happened today would make Owen less upset, maybe I could start
there.

	"It was after gym, because of course something like this would HAVE
to happen after I could just change and- crap, I'm not telling this
right. Sorry." I took a few quick breaths. "Ok, after gym I went to the
bathroom. Jarred and two of his friends came in right as I was finishing up
and they started calling me names and shoving me and I tried to push past
them but Jarred just grabbed me and shoved me against the wall. I had my
history book and notebook with me and Simon knocked them out of my hands
and threw them in the toilet in the stall. The one that hasn't flushed
right since last year. They got....ruined.

	"I was pissed. I yelled something at Simon, I think I called him an
asshole, but then Jarred grabbed the front of my shirt and said that I
needed to learn not to talk back and he dragged me over to the urinal I was
using and, pushed me in. I....I hadn't even flushed, and he just held me
there and laughed. Then Kyle said that I was dirty and they should clean me
up, then he flushed. They held me against the back and flushed like twenty
times and I was wet and it....it sucked. Then they walked away laughing,
and left me there."

	I left out the part about the crying. It was the only part of that
that I was really ashamed of, letting them get to me that much. Plus I
didn't think telling Owen about that would help him feel better. Actually,
I kinda think telling him anything might have been a mistake.

	He didn't say anything at first. Halfway through telling him the
song ended and he started playing a new one without any intro at all, so I
wondered if that auto disconnect thing hung up while I was talking. I was
in the middle of wondering if I should call back and how much I was gonna
have to retell when he spoke.

	"I'm gonna fucking kill him." Owen said.

	"No!" I yelled, panicked. "Don't-"

	"He can't just do shit like that to you!" he cut me off. "Fuck!
Just thinking about him touching you makes me wanna.....Gah!" he ended with
an enraged shout.

	"Please no!" I begged. "Don't try to do anything to him! You CAN'T,
ok? He's older than you and stronger than you and if you start a fight with
him you won't win. I-"

	"I don't care! I need to do something! I can't just ignore it and
pretend it doesn't happen or that just playing you a song or telling you I
love you makes it all better."

	"But it DOES make it better!" I yelled. "It makes it so much
better. I couldn't deal with this if it wasn't for you! And one of the
things about you that makes it better is that it ISN'T happening to you. He
won't just stop with beating you up once. He'll remember you and start
doing the same shit to you that he does to me."

	"I don't care! At least if he's doing it to me then he's not doing
it to you."

	"No!" I couldn't breathe. This was a million times worse than maybe
outing him to his friends. I had years of dealing with mean bullshit to
numb me to a lot of it and stuff like this STILL got to me. If it started
happening to Owen.....god, I couldn't even think about it without wanting
to throw up. "I..." I searched frantically for the magic argument that
would get him to drop this stupid idea. "Do you want me to be the one
feeling like you are now? Because that's how it'll be if anything happens
to you that should be happening to me. Do you think I'm strong enough to
deal with that? Because I don't. I'm NOT. It would kill me." I sniffed. Oh
god, tears, great. "Please." I begged again, my voice cracking.

	"GodDAMMIT!" Owen yelled. I flinched. I'd never heard him this
pissed off. Or swear this much. It was scary. But not in a 'he's so scary
when he's mad' way, more of a 'I'm so scared for him when he's this mad'
kind of way. "I can't....." he trailed off and let out a loud, defeated
sigh. "I'm sorry, love."

	My heart seized up with equal parts dread and hope. What was he
apologizing for? Making me upset? Or because he wouldn't listen to me?
"Don't apologize." I repeated his words back to him. "Just......please
don't."

	He didn't say anything for a while, but I knew he was still there
because I could hear his breathing. Probably because I wasn't doing any of
my own. Finally, after about a million years, I heard him sigh again. "I'm
sorry."

	Something started to unclench inside of me and I let out a relieved
breath. Something in his voice told me it was the right apology, the one
for making me practically throw up with worry. The one where he realized it
was a mistake. But, honestly, even if it wasn't? No way I couldn't forgive
him. He's just.....Owen. "It's ok." I said. "You don't need to
apologize. But it's ok."

	"Thank you." he said in a small voice, an this time he was the one
that sounded relieved. There was more silence and I distantly noticed that
he played another song without an intro. "Does it really help?" he asked
suddenly. "Telling you I love you?"

	A tiny smile pulled at my lips. "So much." I answered. "More than
anything."

	"Good." he said. "I....I'm glad. I love you." His first time saying
it at the radio station. Smile.

	"I love you too." I paused. "Playing songs helps too...." I
prompted.

	Owen laughed shakily. "I know. I mean, I will. Um, and I'm sorry if
it sounded like I was putting down playing songs for you or something. I
really like doing it, especially because it helps."

	"It's ok!" I said with a small laugh. "I know. And I didn't think
that. Just....play me a song so I can hug my pillow and pretend it's you
and we're listening to it together." Ah shit, did I really just say that?
Yeah, yeah I did. And for some reason it doesn't bother me as much as I
thought.

	Owen laughed, sounding more genuine this time. "Ok. I'll play you
one." then he sobered. "I really am sorry."

	He hung up before I could say anything back. I frowned
slightly. That last apology.....

	But then I heard his voice over the radio and lost whatever thought
was trying to creep to life in my head. "This next song's dedicated to
someone very special. I love you, more than anything."

	My heart flipped and, yep, there's the sappy smile. It probably
wasn't the smartest thing to be saying he loved someone on a radio show
that some people actually listened to, but right then I didn't care. It was
as close as we'd ever come to shouting it from the rooftops and it made me
feel like flying.

	I lay back as the song started to play, too lost in thoughts of a
fantasy world where no one would care -and I wouldn't have a heart attack-
if I walked down the middle of the street tucked under Owens arm with mine
wrapped tightly around his waist. But then Meat Loaf started singing "I
would do anything for love, but I won't do that." and it was like a knife
slashing through my good mood. Suddenly, I knew EXACTLY how he meant that
apology and why the last one seemed off. He was going to do it anyway. Like
a match dropped in a bucket of ice water, my happy fantasy was gone.

	God.......dammit.

-----------------------------------------------

	I'm sure I remember someone complaining about my lack of
cliffhangers in this story. Or maybe that was me. Well, whatever. This
one's for you! Or, uh, me.