Date: Wed, 17 Apr 2013 12:18:59 -0700 (PDT)
From: Michael Smith <faretheeforeverwell@yahoo.com>
Subject: Stories from Haven - Nolan 3

DISCLAIMER

The following story is completely fictitious and any resemblances to
persons living or dead are entirely coincidental. Just as in life, this
story contains graphic scenes of love and hate, life and death, joy and
sorrow, as well as material that may be offensive to some audiences. If
such material makes you feel uncomfortable, then please read no further
than this warning.

Send questions and comments to thatguywhowritesniftysmut@gmail.com

NOLAN - CHAPTER THREE

Nothing else existed in the world except Dylan and Nolan. No sound except
for Dylan's heavy breathing, no sight except the still and cold boy before
him. Dylan's mind could not rationalize thought into words, only need into
action. His instincts took control of his body. He felt for a pulse but
found none. He felt for breathe and was answered with a stillness that
scared him. He could see the remnants of blood from Nolan's nose trail down
the right side of his face.
     Beginning compressions on Nolan's chest the older boy kept a steady
rhythm. He could feel the chest of the small figure beneath him concave
with each compression as Dylan desperately tried to get Nolan's heart
beating again. After 30 compressions he moved over to Nolan's head and
plugging the small boy's nose and, tilting his head to clear the airway, he
attempted to breathe life back into the precious child. After a few
breaths, Dylan began compressions once again.
     He continued the cycle three more times before he felt a strong hand
on his shoulder. Instinctively he whipped around, his eyes blurred with
tears. He could see the twins crying in the distance somewhere, a large
group of people around him on the side of the pool, and in front of him the
lifeguard who had allowed all this to happen.
     "Dylan man... I'm sorry..." Troy began to say before Dylan's left hook
landed right in his stomach followed by a powerful hit to the face with his
right. No one in the crowd moved to stop Dylan, not even Troy's girlfriend
who had been the source of distraction in the first place.
     Breathing heavily from the exertions both physical and emotional,
Dylan turned back around to the still body of Nolan lying on the ground,
his wet swimming trunks plastered to his small frame. With great effort,
Dylan moved back over the boy and began compressions once again. He
couldn't stop. He was not allowed. Some outside force seemed to be lending
him the energy to continue. He knew Nolan couldn't leave him, not like
this. Nolan had promised.
     "You... made... a... promise... to... me... you... little... fuck!"
Dylan panted with each compression,
"If... you... still... love... me... you... will... breathe!"

"What do you mean?'" Nolan asked quizzically.
    He and Dylan had spent the better part of the night talking about
various things in Nolan's life and Dylan's past. Nolan learned that Dylan's
parents had been drug addicts and that they had lost custody of him when
police raided the apartment they were cooking meth in. Luckily Dylan, who
was three at the time, had been alright. He bounced around from foster home
to foster home, but eventually made his way to the Richardson's when he was
ten and had been there ever since. Nolan also learned Dylan was a freshman
in high school, was a pretty good student, was on the soccer team, but also
played basketball with his friends in the park.
     Dylan had learned that Nolan really had been all over the place, but
not in the way he had expected. He said he didn't really remember much
about his parents, except that his mom had been a Japanese-American and his
father had been some kind of gang leader. He said he was told that his mom
died when he was about four, but he couldn't remember. He lived with his
dad and some of their friends for a while until one day his dad just
dropped him off at a firehouse. Nolan couldn't remember what his dad looked
like, just that he smelled of gunpowder and leather, like an outlaw.
     After being left at the firehouse and trying to adapt to life in a
foster home, Nolan ended up running away because the foster dad tried to do
stuff with him. Nolan was vague, but Dylan could tell what he was
implying. After running away, Nolan lived on the streets for a long time,
dodging police and social services. Some of the stories Nolan told Dylan
seemed hard to believe, but Nolan had never lied to Dylan before and it
felt like he was painting a beautiful picture in Dylan's head.
     After explaining he had made his way from Chicago to Jacksonville to
New York avoiding authorities, he was finally caught by this one officer,
Officer Whitfield, who picked him up while he had been on patrol. It was a
struggle, and Nolan had almost gotten away from him a couple times, but
eventually the policeman forced Nolan to make a promise not to run away.
     "Yeah," Dylan asked again, "Why would a promise stop you?"
     Nolan laughed a little bit.
     "You can't break a promise once you make it. It is unbreakable." Nolan
finally said, emphasizing each word.
     Dylan thought it over for a minute before he asked another question.
     "So wait, what did that police officer make you promise?"
     "Oh," Nolan replied, "he made me promise I wouldn't run away anymore,
and that I needed to always be tied to someone or someplace, so I couldn't
runaway."
     "Really?" Dylan asked.
     "Yeah," Nolan explained, "But, since I made the promise, I'm not a
runaway anymore."
     The logic was there, but Dylan had a hard time believing that a smart
kid like Nolan would be stopped simply because of a promise. Then again,
Nolan wasn't an average kid. He was special and maybe that came with a
price. Maybe he needed to believe in the unbreakable power of a
promise. Dylan thought about the idea of an unbreakable promise and smiled
to himself. If such a thing existed, it surely had to be one of the last
bits of real magic left in the world.
     "So... you are tied to this officer?" Dylan asked, trying to hammer
out the kinks in Nolan's reasoning.
     "No, not anymore. You see, it transfers, kind of like a leash." Nolan
said a little disheartened, "It started with the officer, and then it went
to my case worker. She was really nice and always treated me like an
adult. She didn't talk down to me. She helped me get back into the system,
but with good people to look after me this time. Than after her, it was
transferred to Fiona Applegate, a local social worker here. Then, when she
left, she transferred me to the Richardsons."
     "So, what? Now Mr. and Mrs. Richardson hold the leash?" Dylan asked in
disbelief that any person could ever have control like that over another
human being.
     "No, Mrs. Richardson transferred me over to you. You hold `the
leash.'" Nolan said simply.
     Dylan was dumbstruck.
     "Wait... what?"
     "Remember, Mrs. Richardson put you in charge of looking after me, so I
am bound to you by my promise. I cannot leave you. Not even if I wanted to,
which... don't get me wrong; I don't want to leave you, even without the
promise."
     Dylan ran the entire scenario through his head. It seemed
ridiculous. Why would an eleven-year-old be bound to him, a freshman in
high school? What did that binding even mean to Nolan? Dylan decided he
definitely didn't want to force Nolan to do anything he didn't want to, but
obviously this whole unbreakable promise thing was a bigger deal than he
realized. He needed to figure out how to undo it, but without hurting
Nolan's feelings.
     "Okay, so you are bound to me by your word to not leave me, right?"
Dylan asked confirming the details.
     Nolan nodded.
     "But, what if, since I am the one you are bound to, I told you it is
alright to not be bound by the promise anymore? Like... the promise doesn't
need to be in effect anymore since Officer Whitfield originally used it to
keep you from running away so you could see there was a place for you to be
safe, like here?" Dylan asked helpfully.
     Nolan seemed to think seriously for a few minutes.
     "Since you are the one I am bound to, if you said the promise had been
kept and was done, than... I wouldn't be bound anymore... I could go
anywhere I wanted and do anything I wanted because I would no longer be
held by the promise..." Nolan said with equal parts awe and fear.
     "But..." Dylan quickly added, "what would you do if I let you go? If I
said the promise was done, what would you do? Would you run away and leave
me?"
     Nolan thought about Dylan's question for more time than Dylan thought
would be necessary. Maybe the kid really did want to run away. After all he
said he had been all over and seemed to do alright on his own.
     "I... I honestly don't know..." Nolan finally admitted quietly to
himself, snuggling into the covers.
     Dylan thought it over for a long time. Finally he made a decision.
     "Nolan," he said in a calm but sure voice, "you have kept your promise
to me. You are not bound by it anymore. However, I ask you to make a new
promise with me."
     Dylan looked over at Nolan who was now looking back intently into his
eyes next to him.
     "I ask that you promise me you won't leave me until you find someone
you love more than me, but that regardless you will always think of me as
family."
     Nolan smiled.
     "I promise, I won't leave you so long as love is in my heart for you,
and that you will always be a part of my family." Nolan dedicated himself.
     Maybe magic did exist, Dylan thought to himself. If it did, he
wouldn't be at all surprised to find it hiding in a promise.

The next day was Monday, and it would be Nolan's first day of
school. Mrs. Richardson, a veteran of foster care and the problems foster
children have entering a new learning environment, had decided prior to
enrolling Nolan in school to have him tested academically. The Sylvan
Learning Center she worked at had the facilities and resources to get an
accurate assessment of Nolan's knowledge and learning potential. Dressed in
his new clothes and somewhat less timid than when he had first arrived, she
walked him through the door of the small building that served as home for
the Sylvan staff. Clutching one of his puzzle books to his chest, they were
both warmly greeted by Ginger and Allan.
     "Nolan, this is Ginger, she is my assistant here at Sylvan and will be
helping to run the exams today, and this is Allan, he is one of our
part-time teaching assistants and actually teaches at Dylan's high school
when not working here." Mrs. Richardson explained, introducing the two new
people.
     Nolan could see that Ginger was clearly beautiful, dark mocha skin
with beautifully bright blue eyes. Her smile seemed to brighten up the
whole room. Allan, who seemed to be of average height and build, was
equally friendly, but his blue eyes seemed to be a more stormy color, which
Nolan found fascinating.
     "Nolan, if you come with me I'll get started with the first part of
your exam. It will be held in the testing room right over here." Ginger
explained, directing him towards a bright and welcoming windowed room.
     Looking to Mrs. Richardson for assurance, she nodded and he followed
Ginger back to the testing room.
     "Cute kid." Allan commented after Nolan and Ginger had left, "How's he
holding up at the Richardson homestead?"
     "Pretty good, Allan." Mrs. Richardson said, smiling. "He has taken a
real shining to Dylan, that's for sure."
     "That's a surprise," Allan added, moving over to one of the reception
counters and starting to make a hot chocolate, "he is usually so
standoffish, even for a teenager. He is popular at school and has girls
swarming all over him, but he never really seems to engage anyone. Don't
get me wrong, he has friends and is well adjusted, just doesn't really seem
to care."
     "Well," Mrs. Richardson said, letting the words hang a while, "I'm not
sure if girls are really what Dylan is interested in. He might fall more
into your area of expertise. For that matter, I'd like you to keep an eye
on Nolan today. I know it's not your place to judge and decide for these
boys who or what they are, but I feel like maybe Dylan and Nolan are
getting closer to each other in more ways than one."
     "And, how does that make you feel?" Allan asked, taking a tentative
sip of his hot chocolate.
     "I love Dylan. He is my son and nothing will ever change that. I also
love Nolan and even though it has only been a few days, I feel like he is
really growing close to the family. I would hate to do anything that would
make any feelings they might have for one another... feel unnatural."
     Allan raised an eyebrow.
     "You'd be okay if Dylan and Nolan messed around?" Allan asked
pointedly, stirring some sugar into his drink.
     "Well, I mean, I certainly would feel better it not happening in my
house, but as it is... it is one of the safest places for anything to
happen. I just wish I knew how to handle something like this. At least with
Sam and Max I don't have to worry about anything going on between them."
     Allan silently rolled his eyes.
     "With Dylan and Nolan..." she continued, "I don't know how I feel just
yet. I love them both, and I want them to be happy..."
     "I'm going to stop you right there Mrs. P." Allan interrupted, "It is
very common in young boys to experiment with members of the same sex. In
some cases this might lead to a better understanding of a homosexual
nature, but in most it is simple experimentation and a mutual figuring out
of how to create good feelings. Dylan and Nolan have known each other for
like a few days, right? It might be a little early to decide whether or not
they are planning to be soul mates or not. Tell you what, though, I'll ask
Nolan after he is done testing."
     Allan just grinned at Mrs. Richardson.
     "Allan Shepherd, you will do no such thing." Pam replied in mock
horror.
     "But hey, tell you what, Nolan is a little young for the center, but
if you wanted Dylan to come down and maybe talk to someone, let's say for
Nolan's sake since he might be displaying some homosexual tendencies, let
me know. You could always tell him you are concerned Nolan is going to want
to ask questions and that Dylan is going to be the only one he would be
willing to trust. Plus, I could load him up with condoms just in case they
decide to..."
     "Allan!" Mrs. Richardson gasped.
     "What?" he played if off as if it were nothing, "just saying... be
prepared."
     "Isn't that the boy scout motto?" Mrs. Richardson asked skeptically.
     "Sure is." Allan smiled, "Best years of my life being a boy scout. Got
my Eagle you know."
     "Yes, I know." Mrs. Richardson replied. "I was there, remember? I
believe my husband and I presented you a pin?"
      "Too bad if I told them I was gay they would take it away from me. Of
course, I think that is one of those things you can't really take away from
someone in the first place, since it is earned."
     "I agree whole-heartedly." Mrs. Richardson echoed.
     "Look," Allan said, putting down his hot chocolate and placing a
warmed hand on top of her own, "I know you, and you've been nothing but
good to anyone who has ever needed your help; myself included. I'll keep a
feeler out for Nolan today and help him any way I think I can, but you
might want to talk to Dylan or at least bring him down to Haven to check
things out. If anything he will know where to go if he has questions you
think he might be uncomfortable bringing to you. Plus, I know my kids, and
I know Dylan, they will get along really well."
     "Thank you, Allan." Mrs. Richardson smiled back, "I think I will talk
with Dylan tonight."

As the day moved on, Ginger administered the evaluation exams for Nolan,
while Mrs. Richardson caught up on some paperwork, and Allan organized the
shelves. After a couple hours of testing interjected with a few 10 minute
breaks, Ginger began running the test results while Nolan helped Allan with
a puzzle in the activity area. Neither one really said much of anything as
they pieced together the large 10,000 piece puzzle that had been a week
long project many people had helped with during breaks in lessons. For what
it was worth neither Nolan nor Allan seemed to mind the silence.
     Allan Shepherd had been working with kids almost his entire life. He
was naturally gifted with an empathetic nature which some had
understandably mistaken for true supernatural empathy. While still in high
school he had been hired by a private company as a consultant of sorts,
which he did not talk about very much, but after graduating from college,
he moved back home. Finding work at his old high school as an English
teacher and guidance councilor, he soon began volunteering down at a youth
center called Haven. The center was a safe place for gays, lesbians,
bisexuals, transgendered, and questioning youth and their allies. It had
been only recently that Allan had offered his unique services to the Sylvan
Learning Center run and operated locally.
     In his mid-twenties, Allan had a very youthful nature about him still,
and people, children especially, seemed to enjoy his presence. At only 5'7"
and around 160 pounds, Allan wasn't very intimidating and didn't standout
in any way, and his short brown hair and stormy blue eyes allowed him to
blend into the background when needed. He used these qualities and his
nonthreatening manner to position himself in places where he could observe
and maneuver, helping others to the fullest extent of his abilities. Also,
it had been said, that he possessed the ability to give life altering hugs.
     As Allan and Nolan pieced the puzzle together, Allan could hear Ginger
and Mrs. Richardson talking in the back room. While the noise was muffled
slightly, he could tell they were talking about Nolan's test results and
the conversation didn't seem to be completely positive.
     "Nolan?" Mrs. Richardson called coming from around the corner of one
of the far offices, "Can you come here a moment, honey?"
     Nolan put the piece he had been trying to find a home for down and got
up from the table. Allan could feel the slightest hint of fear in his
movement, as if he was afraid he had done something wrong.
     "No worries, little guy. I'm sure it's just a technical error or
something." Allan said with an encouraging smile.
     Nolan returned the smile and moved over to Mrs. Richardson where she
explained they had a computer problem and needed Nolan to take the tests
again. While Nolan seemed a little dismayed that he had to spend another
two hours filling out paperwork, Mrs. Richardson explained that this time
they would give a verbal test instead. Mrs. Richardson also motioned for
Allan to come over, as he would be administrating the verbal test to
Nolan. When she mentioned that, Nolan brightened a little.
     "So why don't you go make yourself comfortable in the testing room
while I get the papers Mr. Shepherd needs for the test together."
Mrs. Richardson said as Allan moved closer.
     "Tell you what, Nolan. How about I make you a hot chocolate for while
I give you your test?" Allan offered.
     "Hot chocolate?" Nolan asked, "But, isn't it like summer? I thought
hot chocolate was only for when it was cold out?"
     Allan gave Nolan a peculiar look.
     "Hot chocolate... when it's cold out?" Allan asked dumbfounded, "Never
heard of such a crazy thing..."
     Nolan just giggled as Allan rubbed his chin contemplating hot
chocolate in the cold.
     "Well, I suppose you could if you were desperate enough, but it truly
boggles the mind. That settles it, though, I'm going to make us both some
hot chocolate, but first I have to get my stuff together. Why not head into
the testing room while I get things settled and then I can bore you to
death with this verbal testing nonsense."
     "Kay," Nolan said simply as he light-heartedly skipped towards the
testing room.
     Mrs. Richardson and Allan both watched him leave and waited until he
was out of earshot to speak.
     "Let me guess, high school, right?" Allan asked simply.
     Mrs. Richardson looked up at Allan a bit dumbfounded.
     "We ran the scores through the computer, and other than a couple
areas, he is operating in a 9th through 10th grade level. How did you
know?" Mrs. Richardson asked.
     "Well, it's obvious he is smart for his age, any teacher worth their
salt would see that. I'm going to take a shot in the dark and say the
couple of areas he is trailing behind on are vocabulary and social
studies. His math should be right up there I'd say."
     Mrs. Richardson continued to be astounded at Allan's spot-on analysis
of Nolan.
     "Can I at least ask you how you knew all this, obviously before I told
you his scores?"
     "Sure." Allan grinned, "You see, I noticed the puzzle book he brought
with him today to work on during the break periods. Did you?"
     Mrs. Richardson nodded.
     "Did you notice anything else about the puzzle book?" Allan asked.
     "Not particularly. Why?"
     "Well, for starters, it may have been published a few years ago, but
the thing has over 1,000 mathematical puzzles in it, all of which consist
of equations meant for someone in 8th grade or higher. Also, there's the
fact that during the last break he only decided to help me with the big
puzzle over there because he finished the whole book, which he told me he
got yesterday."
     Mrs. Richardson's mouth was slightly ajar, so Allan kindly fixed it
for her.
     "You are running the second verbal test only to confirm or deny his
original test scores, which are more than likely accurate. He is a sharp
kid, at least when it comes to picking up new information I'd say, but as
far as social interaction and common sense, he is a bit stunted. We could
definitely work with him on vocabulary and social studies here, get him up
to a 9th grade level before school starts next week I'd even say, but the
real question is, what is best for him?"
     Recollecting herself, Mrs. Richardson nodded. Allan was right after
all, Nolan was smart, much smarter than anyone had previously
believed. However, would it be irresponsible to move him up almost four
whole grades?
     "Either way that is something you have to sort out for yourself, and I
don't envy you that. I, on the other hand have to go make some hot
chocolate. I have an adorable genius waiting for me." Allan smiled and
excused himself.

As predicted, Nolan's verbal test resulted in roughly the same test scores,
and there was no denying that the 5th grade was not for
Nolan. Mrs. Richardson and Allan sat down with Nolan afterwards and
explained to him what they found out, and half of the problem was
convincing Nolan just how smart he really was. The other half was deciding
what to do about his schooling. After a long deliberation, Mrs. Richardson
finally asked Nolan what he wanted to do.
     "If I were to go into 9th grade, I'd get to go to school with Dylan,
right?" Nolan asked.
     "There would be another set of tests you would have to take, and you
wouldn't necessarily have all the same classes, but it would be the same
school as Dylan, yes." Mrs. Richardson answered.
     Nolan smiled.
     "I think we have a winner." Allan observed.

That night Mr. and Mrs. Richardson, Dylan, Nolan, Sam, and Max had an
important family meeting over fettuccini chicken Alfredo. There, Nolan
broke the news that he would not be going to the same school as the twins,
but would instead be starting at Dylan's high school as a freshman next
week when classes resumed from their short break.
     "This is stupid. Nolan can't be in high school, he is only eleven!"
Sam cried as Max sat quietly beside his brother.
     "Enough of that," Mr. Richardson scolded, "You should be happy for
Nolan, this is an opportunity that doesn't come around every day. He has a
gift and he needs to be challenged."
     "Challenged? He IS challenged!" Sam continued, "Those high school kids
are going to eat him alive! I'm just thinking about what is best for
him. Has anyone else thought about what it is going to be like for him to
be the smallest in his class and instantly labeled a nerd?"
     Mrs. Richardson frowned at Sam, bringing such a negative viewpoint to
the table.
     "It will be alright, I'll be there to make sure people don't pick on
him." Dylan interjected defensively.
     While Dylan had been shocked at the news, he had been secretly happy
because it would mean more time spent with Nolan. He didn't like the notion
of people picking on Nolan; he knew he and his friends would help Nolan at
school. That was, he hoped his friends would be a help.
     "Look, I know high school is a sort of rough and tumble place, but we
can talk more about it when it gets closer to the time for Nolan to
actually go to school, right Nolan?" Ken asked, directing a question to the
boy who silently moved his food around the plate.
     "Hey, I have an idea." Mrs. Richardson chimed in, hoping to lighten
the mood, "Sam and Max get out early tomorrow, Dylan doesn't have class,
and Nolan should be done with his exam and lessons at Sylvan a little after
1:00 pm... why don't you boys go swimming at the pool?"
     Everyone seemed to think it over a bit. The twins agreed because they
were little water rats that enjoyed swimming. Dylan agreed because he sort
of liked the idea of getting to see Nolan playing and being a kid. Nolan
agreed because everyone else agreed, and he knew Sam wasn't exactly happy
with him at the moment, and anything he could do to make Sam happy sounded
good to him.
     "Alright then, sounds like a plan." Mr. Richardson said with a smile.

It was noisy and cluttered at the pool. Because of the early out at the
junior high schools and some of the high school students still being on
break, kids were everywhere. However, Nolan was impressed by the size of
the pool. He had never really been to a public pool, per say, but being
embarrassed by the twins going on about him never being to a mall before,
and not wanted to do anything to make Sam upset with him, he said
nothing. He just hoped he didn't do anything wrong.
     As the four made their way to the pool, Dylan moaned openly when he
saw who was lifeguarding.
     "What's wrong, Dylan?" Nolan asked, confused at the older boy's shift
in mood.
     "It's Troy..." Dylan replied, as if that summed everything
up. Luckily, the twins gave Nolan the 411. Moving to either side of the
younger boy and lacing their arms around his shoulders, they began to
explain the situation.
     "You see," Sam began, as each boy traded off sentences, "Troy is in
Dylan's class... but they have been rivals for as long as we can
remember... each one always trying to outdo the other one... and so when
Dylan wanted to get a job as a lifeguard at the pool... well, Troy suddenly
wanted to get the job too... and since there was only one opening... and
Troy's father pulled some strings... our Dylan here was sorry out of
luck... even though he is a stronger swimmer and all around better at
CPR... which we can attest to from experience..."
     "You guys are never going to let me live down using you as living
dummies for practice, are you?" Dylan asked in vein.
     Nolan gave Dylan a questionable look.
     "Anyway," the twins continued, "It is general consensus... that Dylan
should have gotten the job... especially since most of Troy's time on
watch... is spent watching for cute girls."
     Both twins made a face.
     "Anyways, come on, Nolan. You can come with me. We will start down
here at the shallow end, where it is a little calmer." Dylan suggested,
seeing most of the horseplay happening in the middle of the pool. There was
probably close to thirty kids in all in the pool area.
     "Yeah, you could do that, or... Nolan could come and play with us in
the deep end. They have a diving board." Sam offered.
     "No, that's okay." Nolan replied with a meek smile, "I should be fine
in the shallow end."
     Both twins shrugged, and immediately moved towards the deep end of the
pool.
     Dylan and Nolan got in and found the water to be warm and
enjoyable. The few people in the shallow end seemed to give Nolan and Dylan
room enough to splash around, but Dylan could tell Nolan wasn't entirely
comfortable in the water, moving awkwardly and only going where his feet
could touch. Sensing his apprehension, Dylan suggested they get out for
awhile and maybe grab something to eat. The food served at the pool was
simple, nachos and hot dogs and the like, but it sounded good to Nolan.
     As Dylan went off to get some food for them both, he asked Nolan to go
check and see if the twins wanted anything from the food bar. Moving along
the side of the pool, Nolan could see the lifeguard, Troy, talking to a
girl who looked like she tanned too much. He was showing her his muscles,
but Nolan thought Dylan's arms looked better than Troy's.
     "Hey, Nolan, did you decide to come and play with us down here?" Max
asked spotting the younger boy a few feet away, lost in thought.
     "Oh, no, Dylan wanted me to see if you wanted anything from the food
bar, like nachos or something?" He redirected the question.
     Sam appeared at Nolan's side seemingly from out of nowhere.
     "Ah, come on, Nolan... just one dive?" Sam asked pressuring Nolan a
bit.
     "No, I think I'm good for right now. Maybe later or some..." Nolan
trailed off as the outdoor air finally caught up with him, bringing on what
felt like a powerful sneeze.
     As Nolan let loose his sneeze, directing it towards the ground, the
hand that Sam had brought around from his side to knock Nolan into the
water connected with the younger boy's nose, not his chest. The force had
been enough to knock Nolan backwards the few feet the twins had planned
out, but not the way they had imagined. As Nolan hit the water over the 8
foot mark, the twins watched as his less than buoyant body began to
immediately sink towards the bottom. Max could see a trail of blood in the
water billowing up from Nolan's nose, as the air bubbles out of Nolan's
mouth seemed to go on forever.

Troy was basking in the warmth of the summer day. He had landed a pretty
solid gig thanks to his dad, and the added pleasure of getting to rub it in
the nose of that foster fuck fag, Dylan Richardson, was icing on the
cake. He got to check out cute babes, work on his tan, and he got paid
$9.00 an hour to watch kids splash around. Most of the time he'd
absentmindedly watch the giant clock and call for a safety check every
twenty minutes or whatever, and spend the rest of his time talking to
girls. It was harder to cruise for girls now that his girlfriend was here,
but he'd make due.
     The job was a cake walk; all he had to do was blow his whistle at
people who ran around the pool, like this ignorant fuck.
     Troy blew the whistle, yelling at the teenager no running, before he
realized it was Dylan.
     "Well, speak of the fuck..." Troy trailed off as Dylan dove straight
into the pool.
     Troy watched from his tower as Dylan's dive carried him down to the
bottom of the deep end where he grabbed something.
     With cold realization, Troy saw Dylan had grabbed someone.
     Troy blew his whistle and called for everyone to get out of the
pool. He got down from his post and moved to the other side of the pool as
he saw Dylan break the surface of the water with some little kid that
wasn't moving.
     Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Troy thought to himself. Some fucking kid
just drowned while he was on duty, his dad was going to kill him, and he
might even lose his job!
     Troy stood nervously on the edge of the crowd of people, moving people
back as best he could, while Dylan immediately checked for a pulse. Without
warning, Dylan began performing CPR, which Troy was somewhat thankful
for... Troy always had trouble remembering that CPR crap.
     As Dylan continued to work, Troy noticed those fag twins that live at
Dylan's crying like babies as they watched Dylan try and breathe life into
the kid. The one seemed to have blood on his hand, but Troy figured he just
scrapped himself getting out of the pool.
     It seemed like Dylan had been working on the kid forever, and Troy
could see how exhausted he appeared to be. The kid was fucking dead. If he
was going to come around, he would have already. He heard the sound of
sirens in the distance, someone must have called 911.
     Shit, he thought to himself, that someone should have been him since
he was the lifeguard on duty. Oh well, they were coming so no use worrying
about that. He could always tell people later that he had called them.
     Moving over closer to Dylan, who had momentarily stopped, Troy put a
hand on his trembling shoulder.
     "Dylan man... I'm sorry..." was all Troy could get out before Dylan
whipped around landing a solid blow into his stomach and following up with
a hit to Troy's face.
     Troy was sent flying backwards and landed on the hard ground around
the pool. He didn't have much time to piece what exactly happened together,
but he was definitely angry
at... someone... for... something... whoa... that's pretty.
     Troy collapsed into darkness.