Date: Thu, 1 May 2003 23:30:22 +0300
From: AS <sanansaattaja@yahoo.com>
Subject: Sam, chapter 1

The following story is fiction. All characters and events therein are
entirely a product of the writer's own imagination. It is a story of high
school friendships and of a romance between two teenage boys. It will
eventually contain scenes of boy-boy sex, so if that offends you or if it
is not legal to read about it at your age or where you live, consider
yourself duly warned. The copyright for this story belongs solely to the
author.

I wish to express my heartfelt thanks to Sara for giving me the inspiration
to write this story in the first place, and for encouraging me to post it
here. Thanks, Sara, for your editing help also, and for being such a good
friend.

Comments on the story are invited and welcome, even criticism, provided it
is constructive!

Allan	sanansaattaja2003@yahoo.com

Sam, chapter 1

Sam and I were all but inseparable. In fact, we'd been best friends ever
since third grade when Sam's family moved to our town and bought the house
next door to ours. We were sophomores in high school when this story took
place, and by that time we knew each other about as well as we knew
ourselves. It can be a bit scary sometimes to feel so exposed to someone
like that. Sam seemed to know exactly what I was thinking before I even
opened my mouth and it would've been pointless to try to prevaricate.  I
could never have fooled her.

Yeah, that's right.  Her.  Sam was a girl, in spite of her name. Well,
actually Sam wasn't her real name. Her parents weren't that hard up for a
boy! They already had four boys by the time she came along, and they were
thrilled to finally get a girl. They named her Sally Ann. Sally Ann
McMillan. And they used to dress her up when she was little in flower-print
dresses with frilly lace and ribbons and lots of pink. And they bought her
dolls and dollhouses and little toy tea sets--all of that girl stuff. But
she became a tomboy for all of that! She much preferred playing in the
sandbox with her brothers. Her mother finally gave up on the cute little
dresses when Sam came home one day with the skirt half ripped off and
dragging in the dirt behind her. She'd been climbing in a tree and caught
her shoe in the lace on the hem! She was a feisty youngster and wouldn't
back down for anyone, often squabbling and fighting with her brothers. Even
though she was the youngest, she could hold her own with the best of them
and more than once ended up with a black eye or a tooth knocked loose. Once
she even gave her brother a black eye! She had a fist that her brothers
learned to beware of, but when backed into a corner she wasn't beyond
resorting to the girl trick of scratching with her nails either.

It was one of her brothers that first started calling her Sam when she was
still a preschooler, and the name had stuck. Her parents had resigned
themselves by then to the fact that she probably never would be a proper
Sally Ann, so Sam she became, and Sam she remained from then on. My Sam. My
bosom buddy.

Oh yeah, pardon me for not introducing myself. I'm Lee. As a kid, I was
tall for my age, and gangly, and I was always a bit clumsy. I was never
real good at sports, even though I could enjoy playing a game of softball
or basketball or volleyball, and I put my whole heart into it when doing
so. I just wasn't good at it, and no one ever pressured me into trying out
for the teams in school either. That was all right. I knew I wouldn't have
been much of an asset to the team, and besides, I would just have
embarrassed myself. I was pretty smart, I guess. I got straight A's without
having to work at it very hard. And I was quite easy-going. Apart from
academically, I didn't stick out very much in school. I was rather average
looking, with pale blue eyes and dishwater blonde hair, a biggish nose and
a slight acne problem. I don't think anyone disliked me and no one taunted
me, or anything, but I didn't have any really close friends apart from Sam.

I still remember the hot summer day when the McMillans moved in next door
and I first laid eyes on that tall, willowy, jeans-and-tee-shirt-clad,
freckle-faced, brown-haired and hazel-eyed girl. It was shortly before the
start of school and between then and the day two weeks later when we first
walked into Mrs. Abbott's third grade classroom hand-in-hand, we had
already become inseparable. It was not a boy-girl thing. Not at all. But we
were fast becoming soul mates, all the same. Somehow, we just fit
together. Everything clicked between us. The fact that she was a girl and I
was a boy was totally immaterial. That was neither here nor there. We never
gave it a thought back then in the beginning of our friendship. And we
seldom gave it a thought thereafter either.

Almost eight years had passed since then and puberty had come and gone. Sam
was no longer the same tomboy she had once been. She was rapidly blossoming
into an attractive woman. She was still willowy, slim and nearly
flat-breasted, and yes, freckle-faced, but she had grown much more feminine
than she used to be in her looks and manner, and even in her dress. And she
could be dangerously charming too! Whenever she made full use of that
slightly lop-sided, toothy smile of hers, I swear she could melt the
hardest of hearts. But, for all practical purposes, I was immune to her
feminine charms. True, she'd always been like the sister I never had, and
you don't get a hard-on for your sister, do you? But then I didn't get a
hard-on for any girl. Sam knew I was gay. In fact, she knew it before I
did! But wisely, she didn't say anything about it to me for some time. I
suppose I was in about the eighth grade before it first started to dawn on
me and I sure didn't breathe a word about it to anyone, not even Sam, as
close as we were. But like I've already said, Sam and I could almost read
each other's minds, and eventually I understood that she knew even if she
hadn't said anything. And about as soon as she realised that I knew she
knew, she brought it up to me. Not accusingly, not judgmentally. Nothing
like that. She just let me know that she knew and that it was fine with
her. It was just another part of who and what I was and I was still the
same best friend she had always loved and always would. You can't imagine
what a comfort it was at that time to have a friend like her, who knew and
understood me one hundred percent and who accepted me totally and without
reservation, and was absolutely loyal.

Just because we were so close didn't mean we excluded others. We were both
fairly out-going and well liked. Sam had her girl friends and I had my
"more or less" buddies too, whom I hung out with at times, but Sam and I
were never very far from one another and I think everyone in school just
assumed that we were a couple in the typical boy-girl sense. We went to the
dances and ball games and other school functions together as a couple, and
we went to the movies together and hung out at the coffee shop afterwards
like any normal couple on a date, so none of the other boys would ever have
thought to ask her out. And no one suspected my true sexual orientation
either.

I asked Sam one time if that wasn't a problem for her. How would she ever
find a proper boyfriend when all the boys considered her and me an "item"
and assumed she was already taken? She assured me that she wasn't even
looking for a boyfriend yet and I was the only boy she cared to be
with. That made me feel good, of course, but I did still wonder sometimes
if it was fair to her to be tied to me, as it were.

She was quite a boy-watcher--that I knew for sure. We both were, you see,
and we compared notes all the time! It was one of our favourite pastimes
when we were together and out of ear-shot of others. And we had almost
identical tastes too, when it came to boys. There was a teacher in our
school who was really hot and we both had a major crush on him. He was our
geometry teacher. Now geometry was our least favorite subject, but
ironically it became one of our favorite classes because it was always such
fun to sit and look at Mr. Andersen. He must surely have been just about
every girl's heart-throb and every gay boy's wet dream. That was only his
second or third year of teaching, so he was very young, and he was
gorgeous. His hair was so blonde it was almost white and his eyes were a
startling turquoise color. It was a challenge to keep my mind half-way
focused on his lectures when he stood facing us at the front of the class
with his biceps and pectoral mounds bulging beneath the thin cotton of his
shirt, and his succulent nipples visible, and with that mouth-watering
mound in his crotch. But the view from behind was equally as
tantalizing. His back tapered from broad shoulders down to a narrow waist
and slim hips, and his butt literally took my breath away. It was tight and
shapely, nicely filling out the seat of his slacks and flexing seductively
whenever he shifted his weight from one foot to the other the way he had a
habit of doing while writing on the blackboard. His forearms were covered
with thick, curly, silky-soft looking hair which was as pale as that unruly
mop on his head, in striking contrast to his darkly tanned skin. I itched
to run my fingers through it, and I fantasized about how much of the rest
of his body might be covered in the same way. I also speculated about how
much of his body was tanned like his arms and face. Usually I pictured him
with an all-over tan, and I jacked off countless times to the hot mental
image of him sunbathing in the nude, stretched out full-length on a big
beach towel. Sometimes I saw him in my mind's eye lying on his back with
his big, cum-filled balls hanging down low between his hunky, hairy,
wide-spread thighs and his magnificent cock lying thick and throbbing
across his groin. Other times I imagined him lying on his stomach, exposing
those beautiful, firm, presumably down-covered, globes of ass flesh to the
hot sun and to my feverish gaze, and I pictured his huge, erect cock
protruding down between his legs, drooling precum onto the towel beneath
him.

The closest Sam and I came to doing anything sexual together was sharing
our fantasies with each other. It was no end of fun because we had such
similar tastes in guys and we were totally uninhibited about describing
them to each other, leaving nothing to the imagination. Mr. Andersen was
often the unwitting victim of our lecherous fantasy-sharing sessions, but
occasionally we chose one or two of the other teachers as well. Like the
boys' gym teacher and track coach, Mr. Jenkins, for example. I'd had the
good fortune of being in his gym class and had seen him nude in the showers
more than once, so I could paint a true-to-life word picture for Sam, much
to her enjoyment. Mr. Jenkins was quite different from Mr. Andersen,
though. He was much more slender and streamlined and was dark-haired and
smooth skinned. He wasn't as gorgeous as Mr. Andersen and we both wished
many times that it was Mr. Andersen who was my gym teacher. Sam got me to
describe quite a number of the other boys in school also, as I saw them
nude in the gym showers and changing room.

Like I already mentioned to you, we were sophomores when the events I want
to tell you about took place. We were only about a month into the school
year and Sam and I were sitting across from each other in the lunchroom
eating. No one else was sitting real close to us, to overhear, but Sam
leaned closer anyway and nearly whispered to me, "Lee, you know that new
kid, what's his name? The one who moved here from out of state who's in our
history class..?"

"Yeah. Jay."

"Well he keeps looking at you."

"At me?"

"Yeah."

Of course, instinctively I turned around to see, and sure enough, there he
was about two tables away from us, gazing in our direction. The minute he
saw me look at him he ducked his head and blushed and got busy eating.

"What makes you think he's been lookin' at me? It's probably you he's
eyein'."

"No, it's you. Definitely. In fact, I've seen him watching you other times
too. I think he's hot for ya, Lee!"

"What?!" I blurted out, too loudly. Several kids turned to look at us. But
when I didn't say any more for a minute they quickly lost interest again.

"I do, Lee. I'd bet ya' anything he's gay and he's got it bad for ya."

I didn't know what to say. The idea of anyone being hot for me had never
occurred to me, ever. Honest. And now, suddenly, I felt oddly flattered by
Sam's words. Unbelieving, mostly, but somehow intrigued with the thought
that another boy might be interested in me. It would take a bit of time to
process that new idea. I had drooled over a number of other boys myself,
privately and together with Sam, but had never gone so far as to even
imagine acting on my sexual thoughts or desires and of approaching
anyone. And it had never occurred to me that anyone would reciprocate,
either, that anyone might feel the same way toward me. Granted, I always
just assumed that the other boys in school were straight. No doubt most of
the guys who appealed to me were straight, but then none of them thought I
was gay either! At least not that I was aware of.

"It's true, Lee," Sam continued. "I've noticed how he looks at you in
history class, with those love-sick, puppy-dog eyes. All the time."

I just stared at her, not saying anything.

"He's sorta cute too, don't you think, Lee?"

"Cute? Hmmmm. Well, maybe, now that I think about it," I thought to
myself. But I didn't say anything.

"Don't you think so, Lee?" Sam persisted.

"Mmmm hmmm," I mumbled. Darn! I'd never really given Jay a second
glance. He wasn't handsome, by any means, just more or less nondescript in
looks, and small in body. He was head and shoulders shorter than me and
very slender. He had rather thin, straight, mousy colored hair, grayish
eyes, wire-rimmed glasses and a thin face with a bit of a pug nose and
slightly protruding ears. But, yeah, there was something kind of cute about
him, you might say. He just wasn't anything like the kind of guys I
fantasized about, that's all! My ultimate fantasy man was Mr. Andersen, of
course, but any other guys I'd ever gotten a hard-on over were a far cry
from Jay--athletic, macho, muscular, good-looking, flesh and blood
gods--definitely nothing like quiet, mousy little Jay Evans. Still the
thought of Jay making eyes at me, wanting me, dreaming about me, was
strangely exciting, and I felt my pulse speed up a bit.

Sam sat across from me, looking at me as I digested this, a little smile on
her face. I'm positive she knew exactly what I was thinking, how I was
feeling. "You should try to get to know him a bit, Lee," she said. "I know
he would like that. He wants you. Hell, he needs you!"

Nothing more was said then, as lunch hour was ending and it was time to
start moving toward our next class. But my mind was churning, for sure, and
I was feeling rather weird for some reason. This would take some getting
used to.

In spite of Sam's urging, I didn't make any move to connect with Jay. But I
did notice, since it had been brought to my attention, that he really did
watch me a lot. I often found him looking at me, but always when I caught
his eye he would quickly look away and blush. Things might have continued
indefinitely like that, had not fate intervened to bring us together. One
day Mrs. French, our history teacher, assigned us an extra research project
and paired us up two and two to work on it together. We were to do all our
research on our own time, in the library and on the internet and wherever
else we wanted, and then beginning three weeks later, each pair by turns
would present their finished report to the class. I couldn't believe it
when she called out mine and Jay's names together, and I actually gasped
out loud. I don't think anyone noticed, except Sam, of course, and she
pounced on me immediately after class, expressing her delight at this
fortunate cast of fate, as she called it.

"You were meant to get together, Lee! I just know it."

Poor little Jay seemed extremely embarrassed when I finally managed to
corner him later to make plans for our first research session. He was
nervous and stuttered and stammered and blushed and looked like he wanted
to duck away and hide. And the more nervous he got the more I wanted to
just reach out and hold him and pat him and soothe him. Jeez! I hoped he
would soon get a hold of himself and relax so we could actually work
together.

I needn't have worried, really. He wasn't scared of me. He was just a bit
overwhelmed initially at being practically thrust like that `into the lap'
of the very one he had been mooning over for several weeks. Soon enough I
was the one who was feeling embarrassed, being the object of his
worship. It was terribly flattering to someone like me who others had never
really paid much attention to before, but at the same time it was more than
a little scary. I wanted Jay to like me, certainly, but not excessively
so. After all, I was just an ordinary guy with feet of clay, and certainly
not a god!

Little by little, we both got our balance and were able to relax and enjoy
spending time together, and our research project went amazingly well. I
discovered that Jay had a very lively wit and a rather self-deprecating
sense of humor. He was also extremely intelligent. And he was infatuated
with me. That was made obvious in so many ways--in the way he looked at me,
the way he hung onto my every word, the way he was forever touching me when
we worked together. They were just fleeting touches, and almost hesitant at
times. There was nothing sexual in it, really--just an occasional touch on
my sleeve, or a hand on my shoulder, or brushing against me from behind
while I sat at the table and he looked over my shoulder, or else from the
side while we sat together poring over some tome or writing our notes. But
I knew he yearned for more. And I was getting kind of nervous about it. I
was quite sure he didn't suspect that I was gay and that there could ever
be any reciprocation from my side. The more we got to know each other, the
guiltier I felt about keeping him in the dark regarding my sexuality. But
then he had never said he is gay either. And I thought maybe he didn't know
that I knew. Hell, maybe he hadn't even analyzed that fact himself, how
should I know? But it was obvious to me, and to Sam. And it should have
been obvious to anyone else at school that was observant enough to notice
the worshipful way he was always looking at me. Thank goodness, everyone at
least seemed to be oblivious! I was not out and had no desire to be
out. Only Sam knew my deepest secret and that's the way I wanted it to
remain.

Jay, however, dear sweet innocent little Jay, was complicating things for
me! I marvelled that someone so smart could also be so naïve, so utterly
lacking in subtlety. Why couldn't he at least make an effort to hide his
infatuation?

Sam remarked to me one lunch hour about a week and a half into our project,
"You're gonna have to level with him, you know, Lee."

"What do ya mean?" I muttered, startled. Even though I knew perfectly well
what she meant.

"You know," she said, and that was all.

But that was enough to through me into turmoil for the rest of the day. I
got through my afternoon classes somehow, but mentally I was more absent
than otherwise, thinking about what Sam had said and about how I might
broach the subject with Jay and about what direction things might take.

It all happened quite naturally in the end, though. I'm amazed when I look
back on it, how the rest of that day went. Jay and I had been in the habit
of spending an hour or so in the city library after school, either reading
reference books or searching for information on the internet. Neither of us
had computers at home, so the library was the logical place. But we had
already agreed to come to my place that day, rather than go to the
library. We wanted to work on organizing all the data we had already
collected and to start planning how to present it in our report. So we
walked together to my home, roughly a half mile from the school. Jay had
never seen where I lived. His home was about an equal distance from the
school in the opposite direction, and he was new to the town besides. It
felt very comfortable walking with him, our arms full of books, chatting
and joking. Jay's humor made him a constant delight to be with and I
wondered then that no one in the school had made any real effort to
befriend him yet. They didn't know what they were missing.

We got to my house and I threw open the front door, calling out to my mom
like I always did when I came home, but today there was no answering
greeting. I led Jay through the dining room where we threw our books and
papers down on the table and then on into the kitchen, wondering where Mom
was. There I found a note on the counter informing me that she was gone
with some friends of hers to some exhibition or other in the neighboring
city and that she wouldn't be home until late. She said I could either heat
up some leftovers in the microwave for supper, or else order pizza or
something, but I was on my own until bedtime. Perhaps I should explain that
I have no brothers or sisters and my parents are divorced, so when Mom was
away I really was on my own. There would be no one to disturb us.

I asked Jay if he was in a hurry or if we could just hang out for awhile
before starting on our notes and he thought hanging out would be cool, so
that's what we did. I got us each a coke from the fridge and put a CD in
the player in the family room and we flopped down, one on each end of the
couch, facing each another. Jay was so adorable, sitting there sipping on
his coke and gazing at me like he was always doing. He looked rather like a
puppy, I thought, looking up at its master, trusting, adoring, longing, and
just waiting to have its ears scratched and to be petted and fussed
over. Suddenly, on an impulse I put my coke down on the end table and
scooted over next to him, scooped him up into my arms and burrowed my nose
in his soft, mousy hair.

I startled him so that he nearly choked on his mouthful of coke, which
sprayed out of his nose and mouth all over my shirt. But I didn't care. I
was like on autopilot now. I had never up till then even imagined doing
what I did, what I was doing, but it felt like the most natural thing in
the world at that moment. I took his coke can from his hand and set it on
the coffee table then tenderly took his cute pixie face into my hands and
gazed intently into those puppy-dog eyes of his while slowly, slowly
lowering my lips to his. His eyes had grown huge, like saucers, and a
little gasp escaped from his mouth just as our lips touched. He whimpered
once, then, and threw his arms around me, hugging me tight and kissing back
with a passion.

Eventually we both felt the need to come up for air. I'm not sure I had
even thought to breathe; I was so caught up in the excitement of the
kiss. We drew back from each other a few inches and gazed wonderingly,
searchingly, into one another's eyes, big question marks almost visible
there. Jay's face was flushed and his gray eyes had grown huge again, his
hair was mussed and his glasses were smeared from rubbing against my
face. In spite of his dishevelment, he had never looked more adorable to
me, and I gave him a quick squeeze since my arms were still around him. A
shudder passed through his slight frame as he sobbed once, and a lone tear
trickled out of the corner of his eye and began to roll down his upturned
cheek. This alarmed me until I noticed the beautiful smile on his cherubic
lips and realized it was a tear of happiness. I kissed his cheek then,
right on top of the teardrop, arresting its flow and sucking it into my
mouth. Then I drew the tip of my tongue gently up his cheek, following the
wet, salty trail of the tear back to its source in the corner of his eye. I
removed his glasses and placed them on the end table behind us, and after
planting a feather-light kiss on each of his eyelids, I gently pressed his
face against my chest and nuzzled with my own in his sweet-smelling hair,
planting little kisses here and there on the top of his head.

After awhile he pulled away and looked up at me. "Gosh, Lee, I
n-n-n-never..." he stammered.

"Surprised you, huh?" I interjected, and he nodded his head in agreement.

"Surprised myself too, believe me. I don't know what came over me, Jay. I
just..."

"You're not sorry, are you?" Jay blurted out, looking alarmed.

"Of course not, silly!" I quickly assured him. Then to emphasize this, I
reached out and cupped his face in both hands and kissed him lightly again,
on the lips.

"Jay," I began, "I've been thinking for some time that I must let you know
I'm gay too."

"Too...?" he started to say. "I'm not... I mean..."

"You are gay, aren't you, Jay?"

"No... Well, I don't... I never..."

"I've seen how you've been looking at me for weeks now, Jay. I just assumed
you are also gay and that you had fallen for me. I haven't read you wrong,
have I?"

"Oh, Lee! I love you! I've loved you since I first saw you the day I
started school here, but..."

"Dear sweet Jay, I think I love you too..."

"I just knew you'd never want me, Lee. You've got Sam! You do love Sam,
don't you? You're always together. I mean always! I didn't want to come
between you, Lee..." And then he gasped suddenly and continued, "Oh, God!
What will she think now? What will you tell...? You're not gonna tell her,
are you, Lee?" All of that came tumbling out of him in a breathless rush.

"Don't be silly, you goose!" I chuckled. "Of course I'm gonna tell Sam..."

"WHAT?" He cried. "You can't! You mustn't! She'll hate me..." He was on the
verge of real tears by then.

I pulled him against me again and patted his back and said, "Jay! Calm
down, man. I've got a lot of explaining to do. You don't understand. It's
not like you think."

He did calm down a bit then and looked up at me questioningly as I
continued to hold him, rubbing the open palm of one hand in big slow
circles on his back.

"Jay, Sam is not my girlfriend. She's my best friend in the whole world,
but not my girlfriend. We've been best friends forever, and she's known
that I'm gay since we were in eighth grade, I think. What would you think
if I told you that she's the one who first realized you have a crush on me
and encouraged me to make a move on you?"

Jay's eyes opened wide and he stared at me, as if he didn't believe what
I'd said.

"That's right, Jay. I'm not lyin' to ya. She's totally cool with this,
believe me! She'll be delighted when she finds out what's happened!"

Jay seemed agitated again at the thought of Sam knowing about what we had
done, and I quickly continued, "There's not a hope in the world of me
hiding it from her, Jay. Trust me. I have no secrets from Sam. I couldn't
have. She can read me like a book and she'll know in a split second that
something's happened as soon as she sees me tomorrow! Hell, I can bet you a
hundred bucks that she'll call me this evening and she'll know even without
seeing me and without me saying anything. That's how close we are. But Jay,
please believe me. You have nothing to fear from Sam. She'll be thrilled
for us, I know it. She's the greatest. There's no one like her in the
world!"

Jay did relax after that last speech, and just leaned against me in my
embrace, looking up at me with those big eyes of his--those adorable and
adoring puppy-dog eyes that I had come to love so much.

"Gosh, Lee," he murmured, "I never dreamed I'd be able to have you..." And
he started to cry again, soundlessly. The tears came fast this time,
coursing down his cheeks, but all the while he was smiling happily. I just
pulled him tighter to me and began to cry myself. I thought my heart would
burst.

We never did get any work done with our notes that afternoon. Jay startled
me when he sat up suddenly and looked at his watch and then jumped to his
feet. "Oh my God, Lee! I gotta run. My dad'll kill me if I'm not home in
time for supper. We always eat at six, as soon as Dad gets home from work."

We had lain back on the sofa with Jay lying on top of me, enclosed in my
arms. Our tears had soon dried up and we had just cuddled together, kissing
now and then, not saying anything, but revelling in our feelings of
contentment and of love for one another, enjoying this new-found closeness
and the unfamiliar but oh so delicious feeling of body against body and of
soul joining to soul. It felt so right. Perfect, in fact. And we wanted it
never to end.

I looked at my watch then too, and was shocked to see that it was already
five thirty. He would have to run, and even at that he'd barely make it
home in time. After all, it was a mile away. He pulled himself together and
tucked in his shirt while I cleaned his glasses for him and then ran my
comb through his hair and kissed him again quickly on those sweet lips of
his.

"You better call your mom, Jay, and tell her you're on your way so she
won't be worried if you're a bit late. Look, I'll walk you home and then
I'll stop at Pizza Hut or Burger King or something and have my supper since
my mom isn't gonna be home. No! Ask your mom if you can eat supper with me
at Pizza Hut! I'll treat you. OK?"

Jay looked quite doubtful, but he did call and he did get permission to eat
with me, but with strict instructions to come straight home afterwards. We
high-fived then and threw ourselves into each other's arms for another
final big hug before gathering up his books from the table and setting out
for Pizza Hut. Our first date! Yippee!

We had a lot to talk about as we walked and while we ate our supper. We
both just understood and accepted, without spelling it out in words, that
we were a couple now. No question about that! And it felt darned good,
believe me. We were like on a high with the very thought of it--one minute
giddy and giggly, and then the next minute serious again. Neither of us was
out to anyone (except for me being out to Sam, of course), and we weren't
anywhere near ready to change that yet. So we knew we would have to be
careful not to give it away, especially at school. We wanted to touch each
other continually, but that would have to be kept for private, as difficult
as it would surely be to refrain. But maybe the most difficult of all would
be to not give it away with our eyes, with the way we looked at each
other. People would surely pick up on that unless we were very careful and
guarded.

All too soon we had finished our pizzas and cokes and Jay had to get on
home. I walked him to his gate where I gave him a gentle slug on the
shoulder before turning to go and he walked up the walk to his front
door. I couldn't resist, of course, turning to look back once, and he was
standing on the step watching me walk away. His face lit up like the sun
when he saw me look and he waved happily and then disappeared into the
house.

I couldn't wait for Sam to call me so I called her instead, as soon as I
got home again, and she picked up on my excitement almost before I said
hello, so of course she guessed everything. Well, almost everything. She
demanded to hear all the details and like I had tried to assure Jay, she
was totally thrilled for both of us. There didn't seem to be a jealous cell
in her body and her big, warm heart was elastic enough to stretch and take
in Jay right along with me without it being crowded in there at all. I
loved her more than ever because of it and I just knew that in no time Jay
would come to love her just like I did. What a unique triangle we would
make!

Please stay tuned for more!

Allan	sanansaattaja2003@yahoo.com