Date: Thu, 7 Sep 2000 23:52:47 -0400 (EDT)
From: Christ Sol <webtrash@unpunk.com>
Subject: Trapped, part 3

Disclaimer: This story contains drug culture, male/male and female/female
sexual references. Don't like it, look at something else. Or play some
tennis. Buy a goldfish. Indulge in some heavy alcoholic drinking. The world
is your oyster.

I in no way infer the sexuality of the members of the band Jebediah. They
do a pretty good job of it themselves. Fan mail to webtrash@unpunk.com

-3-

"Snowy, I --- you --- I didn't--"

His face broke open and he burst into laughter.

"You horny little bastard! You gonna dirty my sheets with that thing."

He turned around respectfully while I covered myself up, my face a deep
crimson from embarassament.

After a moment he spun back ground and hopped onto the bed beside me.

"What's up, never been caught jerking off before?"

"Not really, no."

His face went serious.

"Looks like there's a lot of stuff you keep from people."

"Spare me the sermon, Reverend Snow. I'm in enough trouble as it is."

Snowy cocked his head for a moment, then chuckled. I self-consciously
reached for my shirt and pulled it over my head.

"It's getting late, I gotta be home before my mum gets in. She'll freak at
me as it is for skipping school."

"You missed Photography, it can't be that bad. I'll give you a lift."

I nodded and looked around for the rest of my clothes, finding them in a
pile on the chair. I turned away from Snowy as I pulled my boxers on.

"Why did you undress me?"

"You were burning up mate, I had to."

"I see. No alterior motives?"

I turned slowly, my face calm, eyes meeting his. He leaned forward and
gently kissed me on the lips.I yanked away.

"No! No way Martin."

"What? What's wrong?"

"I'm not gay.... I'm not..." my voice trailed away as I realised I wasn't
fooling anyone. Not him, not me, noone. I backed away little bit further,
then sheepishly scooted back forward. I didn't know if I was coming or
going, all I knew was one of the sexiest guys in town just planted a big
wet kiss on my face, and-- and-- I guess what I really wanted was more. Or
what I thought I wanted. Damnit, why did everything have to be so
complicated?

Snowy kissed me again, his cracked lips gently scratching my mouth and
tongue as he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him.  I felt
the sting of a tear in one eye and knuckled it away, letting my head rest
on his shoulder as he ran his rough, work-coarsened hands over my back and
neck.

"You ok Trent?"

"Yeah, I'm just a little freaked out, that's all."

"You want me to stop?"

"No, yeah, I -- for now, yeh. I'm just confused."

Martin pulled back off me and scratched his chin self consciously while I
gathered my thoughts once again, my mind reeling as I struggled with all
this new information, trying to find my bearings. I got completely dressed
and grabbed my bag. Snowy finished his beer in one big gulp that would have
left me heaving, and lazily got to his feet, standing face to face with
me. He wasn't a tall guy, maybe about five-eight, but built like a brick
shithouse. He could be very confronting, but I had seen his placcid, caring
side. And I was very, very grateful.

"It's not you." I said at last. "I'm kind of in love with this other dude,
Kevin."

"He go to our school?"

I laughed softly.

"Nah - he doesn't. I'll have to introduce you to him sometime."

"Yeah - whatever. Let's go."

Snowy's '65 Falcon ripped out of the driveway and down Jaywood Drive, and
onto the main drag of Scarborough Beach Road.  He was infamous for his
driving and I could see why.

"Where do you live?"

"Kelmscott."

"Near the school?"

"Yeah, off Talus Close."

"So tell me more about this Kevin."

I examined Snowy's face for any hint of malice, but all I saw was a mixture
of curiosity and honest sincerity. This was Martin without his masks, the
real guy. We spend all our lives wearing these masks, too afraid to show
who we really are. You cast the mask aside, you open the door to your soul,
your mind. I wasn't ready to do that.  I was too many years in a hard
school.


"He's a guitarist. Lives out in Willetton. He's in a band."

I had no intention of revealing that the very same Kevin was frontman of an
up'n'coming Australian band signed to Murmur with millions of adoring fans.
The last thing I needed was to be regarded as some foolish kid with an
idol-worshipping complex.

"I see."

I watched Martin as his hands gently gripped the steering while, hand
occasionally slipping down to change gears or scratch a phantom itch in his
leg. He carried himself so calmly, so confidently. How the hell could he
live like that? I was always in awe of how he handled stress, how he
handled pressure.

"Soooo.. he's cute, right?"

A broad, but quietly disconcerting smile hung on his face for a moment, and
he glanced at me from underneath his mirrored RayBans.

"'Course. He's - beautiful."

"Right."

We turned off the Albany Highway and past The Glen. It dawned on me that my
companion was sizing up his competition, like Kevin was just another dirty
body out on the field, and I was some trophy not yet won.  Slightly annoyed
by his arrogance, I couldn't help but be flattered by his persistence and
interest in me. The rest of the journey was quiet, and I sighed inwardly as
the aging Ford sputtered to a stop at 31 Talus Close, Kelmscott.


He leaned forward and kissed me briefly on the cheek.

"Call me if you need anything. I'm in the phone book."

"'I'm in the phone book'. Class act, Mister Snow. Catch you on Monday."

Martin just shrugged and shot me a lopsided grin, before gunning the
engine. I climbed out and wandered down the cracked path home.

I chewed on another forkful of baked potato as my mother bustled in and out
of the dining room, half dressed and rushed.

"School called. If you were sick, why didn't you come home?"

"My friend Martin gave me a lift to his place. I didn't feel like being
alone."

"I was home most of the day, Trent."

"Sorry, I didn't think."

"Well, you better get serious about your education. You have TAFE to think
about."

After a dozen heated arguments, I had finally won and was not going to
university. I was happy with a college education. Besides, half of my trust
fund had already been spent on heroin.

"I have to go hon, Association dinner tonight.  Behave, and I'll see you
tomorrow morning."

"Yes mum."

"I'll be at the Albion Hotel Function Centre if you need anything."

"Yes, mum."

She came around to the table and gave me one final appraising look.

"You do look pale. If you're not feeling well, you should get some sleep."

Her hand was cool on my my forehead, but it was just as quickly removed as
she glanced at her watch and bolted for the door.

I watched her car disappear around the corner and then grabbed my jacket,
cap and a fifty dollar note from my stash. I headed out the back door and
into Armadale to score a hit.


... to be continued...