Date: Sun, 21 Jan 2007 13:35:07 -0800 (PST)
From: don mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com>
Subject: Oliver and His High School's  SENIOR TRIP....    fiction by Donny

I think fondly of that recurring dream I use to
have....I had it for a couple of years.  It was pretty
much the same dream every time.   It's the one with my
best friend Tyler and me making out.  This dream
always takes place in Tyler's backyard tree house.
In the dream we're always the same age.... 14 years
old.  I knew, in the dream, that we'd been swimming in
my pool before we'd climbed up into the tree house
that afternoon.    My backyard and Tyler's backyard
are right next to each other.   In those days when I
was swimming, I always wore one of my brother's
hand-me-down speedo swim suits and I was wearing one
in the dream.   He's five years older than me and
speedoes were 'hot' way back then.....in his day.  Now
it's 'boardies'.  Not for me though....  I loved to
wear Christian's old speedoes.  He'd gotten a new
speedo each year.....for when he was 11, 12 and so on.
 In the dream I'm always wearing the little red one
that he'd picked out years ago, when he was about
eleven.    When I wore that one, at  age  fourteen,
the top of my sparse pubes just barely showed because
the speedo is so small and tight on me.  Actually, I
liked it the best back then because it made my little
cork look bigger.

The dream has Tyler and me in the tree house eating
some kind of a snack.  Tyler finishes his first and
makes a grab for the other part of mine so I jump him
and we started rough housing.  We were skinny boys and
 quick and slippery so getting each other in a real
wrestling hold wasn't easy.  Usually we end up with an
arm around each others neck trying to squeeze hard and
make the other boy "give".  In the dream....  the
sides of our faces are together and as we struggle our
faces slide around to the front and our lips meet.
Our noses bump and rub...... it's a very sexy thing.
 We loosen our neck grips slightly and hold our
position until Tyler opens his mouth and our tongues
touch.  Tyler and me adjust our position to lay
stomach to stomach and crotch to crotch.  I'm on the
bottom, Tyler on the top.  We begin to kiss sweetly as
our bodies slowly grind  ... first grinding in little
circular patterns and then slow little humpings up and
down, boner against boner.....little squeaky sounds
squeeze out of our throats...

We have almost identical sized penises.....at that
time, each about    4 1/2 inches of boner.  A lot of
our other parts are almost identical too and our
breathing in this dream is almost identical as well.
It starts out being just puffs of breath against each
others face..... warm and moist as we blow out with
each quiet grunt...... and then it changes to little
quick  bursts as we get more and more excited.   And
then, as our hearts begin to beat faster, Tyler
scrapes his tongue against the bottom of my front
teeth, then up the front of those same teeth and
finally his tongue laps up the inside of my upper lip
pulling it inside out.  He holds his tongue against
the inside of my lip causing it to push up against the
front of my nose,  blocking my nostrils and preventing
me from breathing through my nose.   Then his tongue
travels right up past my lip, which slips back to it's
normal spot.   Lazily now,  Tyler wetly laps the
outside of my top lip and right up the front of my
nose leaving it dripping with spit.  The smell of his
saliva starts my cock to twitching.

We squirm together making louder squealing noises now.
 The make-out goes on for a while and then Tyler
pushed the front of my speedo down with his hand....
catching it under my nuts which by now are hard and
tight up against my stomach.  He squeezes my nuts and
strokes my boner as we kiss.   Then, as I get ready to
shoot off  he floats above me while somehow still
continuing to stroke my cock until I shudder and shoot
a hard, long stream of cum......then I wake up.  In
the dream it's creamy cum that shoots out of my cock,
but in real life it's pee.  I pee the bed.

It's messy, but the dream makes it possible for me to
see Tyler again.  Not only see him, but pretend to be
with him kissing and what-all so even though it does
end with me peeing my bed, I still think the dream is
worth the trouble.  My big brother  and me share a
bedroom and he always gets out of his bed to help me
change mine as soon as he hears me rustling about
stripping my bed of the peed-on sheets..  We don't
even talk....just change the sheets over the rubber
mat that I have on my mattress and we get back in our
beds and go to sleep again.  Christian  doesn't even
ask me about it.....

 I've always looked up to Christian and kind of
idolized him.  He's never disappointed me in anything
and he never criticizes me.  No matter what age I
happened to be it was always fine with him if I tagged
along when he and his friends were heading off to
play.  If one of his friends complained about the
little brother tagging along,  Christian always
stuck-up for me.....the friend could do what he
wanted,  but I was coming and that was that.  I took
it for granted.... I just thought that's what big
brothers did.

The thing about the dream with my best friend Tyler
is,  in real life,  he has never kissed me and I have
never ever climaxed while he was anywhere in the
vicinity.   We both knew from about the time we were
12 years old that I was sexually attracted to him,
although we never used those exact words.  And, as for
the wrestling part of the dream....we rarely wrestled
because Tyler knew from experience that I'd get a
boner.  He was not inclined toward any form of gay
activity what-so-ever.  He would tolerate an
occasional hug and little kiss from me as long as I
didn't over do it.  We stayed very best friends right
up till the day he died.  I didn't realize until years
later how special his behavior toward me was....what
with him letting me hug and quick kiss him every now
and then.  He did it for me because he loved me too,
only not in the same way I loved him.  I realized some
years later that me kissing and hugging him probably
felt to him the way I felt when a girl did the same
things to me.  It was rather repugnant.......  Tyler
never let on that it was a big turn-off,  but he also
didn't encourage me doing a lot of it either.

Tyler and me often passed as brothers because we were
both pretty much the same small size and had the same
general features and coloring.  Nothing special....
brown hair and eyes.  Nice teeth and smiles. I always
felt we were both kind of cute guys, but it's a
subjective thing so who's really to say?   It's
certainly not as if anyone reinforced this concept of
mine on any kind of a regular basis.... if at all.
Just my opinion......

I felt responsible for Tyler's death.....completely at
first and then later I saw it differently, but I was
definitely partially at fault.  That summer there was
some sort of mosquito infestation that was causing the
water in swimming pools to be unhealthy and because of
this, early one morning,  my Dad drained our pool.
The bad water was to  be replaced with fresh water so
that the chlorine and other water treatments could
start fresh.  My Mom was doing volunteer work at our
church that morning so before going to work, my Dad
gave me the job to stretch the pool cover over the
pool.  If he hadn't been really late for work he would
have done it himself.  There are always "ifs" in
life.... aren't there?   The truck with fresh pool
water was due to arrive later that morning.  I had
every intention of covering the empty pool as soon as
I finished my computer game.... but I forgot and
started a new game.

It was a very hot day in August and in our house we
didn't have central air conditioning.  We had a noisy
window air conditioning unit for my bedroom  which is
where my computer is set up.  All of a sudden, some
where in the back of my mind,  I  thought I'd heard a
dull thud.  It scared me, but my bedroom was in the
front of the house with the loud air conditioner
running,  so I couldn't have heard a dull thud from
the back of the house... could I?    A freezing chill
had passed right through my body causing me to shake
all over.  It made me jump up knocking my keyboard off
my desk.  I ignored the dangling keyboard and ran down
the stairs saying, "NO NO NO NO NO!" and out through
the kitchen to the back yard and over to the pool.

I knew he'd be in the deep end.  That end is closest
to his yard.  A large circle of blood was around
Tyler's head as he lay motionless 10  feet down.....
on the damp bottom of the swimming pool.  He always
preferred to dive into the pool and I always did a
cannonball.  Why couldn't we have preferred doing each
others' entry and then everything would have been very
different.  I looked down for just a second and then
walked back in the kitchen and dialed 911.  I said,
"the swimming pool"..... the lady kept asking what my
emergency was but I'd started puking and couldn't
answer her.  My Mom always said that I have a weak
stomach.  When in doubt, I puke.  That's what my
brother always says...when in doubt, Oliver pukes.  He
was just being funny, not mean.

 The 911 lady could see who we were on their caller ID
 and she sent a fire truck, a police car and an
ambulance.  They're very thorough. The police/fire
station is about four blocks from our house.... they
arrived in about a minute.   Metaphorically speaking,
I'd already left by then.    I was lying in my own
vomit on the kitchen floor in a catatonic state.

I stared into space and wouldn't or couldn't move a
muscle in my body.
Tyler and I did everything together....and now, at 14
years old,  we did the very last thing we'd ever do
together...... we rode to the hospital in the same
ambulance, side by side.   I'm glad I don't remember
anything about that.    I missed the funeral,
preferring my catatonic state.  Reality would have to
wait.  They have clever psychiatric care and
medication and grief counseling so I slowly came out
of my catatonic state and began to move my body and
drink liquids and eventually eat solid foods again.
It took two weeks or so and I think that even though
the professional care was excellent it was actually my
brother Christian who was mostly responsible for me
returning to this world.

My brother's love had always been a big part of my
life and it was even more important to me now.  My
parents are very loving parents and I love them tons,
but I love my brother more than I can say.  I came out
of that hiding place in my head because of the many
times Christian asked me to  ....and because he cried
so hard for me ...and because he slept in a chair  in
my hospital room, with me, every night ...and because
he held my hand all day.... every day.  That's why I
gave in and breathed the real world into my head
again.  I never thought of anything as I lay immobile
in that hospital bed, but I heard everything.  So, for
Christian I woke up, so to speak..... but, without
planning this ahead of time, it appeared I wouldn't
actually be speaking.  I was mute.   It surprised me
as much as it surprised everyone else.

A few days after that I was allowed to go home.  Over
the next couple of weeks I slowly recuperated a little
here and a little there and I eventually began going
through the motions of living a fractured life.  I had
psychiatric appointments twice a week, but since I was
unable to talk it was slow going.  I'd nod 'yes' and
'no' and I'd write stuff on a tablet, but I wouldn't
speak.  When they asked me why I wasn't talking I
wrote, "I don't know."

Now,  nobody was blaming me for the accident.  They
said that Tyler knew the pool was being drained as
well as I did.  I wrote, "Yes, but he forgot."  I
wouldn't hear of anyone even suggesting it wasn't my
fault.  I never cried about it and I never wavered in
blaming myself for killing Tyler.  I talked to Tyler
in my head every night and told him how sorry I am
that I was too lazy and irresponsible to do a simple
thing like pull the plastic cover over the empty pool.
  I didn't ask for his forgiveness because I didn't
feel I deserved it.  My oversight cost him his whole
life and cost me the most important person in mine.

My parents filled in the pool with dirt, not water.
They put grass sod over it and nobody went in the back
yard except for Christian cutting the grass.  Tyler's
parents hired a lawyer and sued my parents...... our
insurance company settled the suit out of court.  Then
Tyler's parents moved away.  My family tried to bring
me fully back to the real world, but I resisted.
Christian was back to school for his senior year and
even though I still wasn't talking,  three weeks into
the school year my parents, after many consultations
with school officials, tried having me begin the 8th
grade.  During lunch, on the very first day, one of
the kids muttered something about not going over to my
house for a swim and I attacked him...my hands were
tightly formed fists...my arms windmilling an
avalanche of blows on him.  I didn't utter a sound.  I
was suspended from school for a week....mostly because
I wouldn't stop punching and kicking even when
teachers were pulling me off him.

I was returned to school after serving my suspension
but a week later the same scenario occurred with
approximately the same results.  This time I was the
one beaten up, but I still wouldn't stop swinging my
fist.  He broke my front tooth off and gave me two
black eyes, but I kept swinging.  I felt I deserved
that beating and many more too.  My parents pulled me
out of school and increased my psychiatric care.
Nothing worked and then Christian got in a fight at
school with someone who called me a danger to the
community.  Our house was put up for sale and two
months later we moved 100 miles away.  My Dad couldn't
get as good a job as he'd had in our old town so my
Mother had to go to work too.

My brother had been very popular at the old school and
he had really looked forward to graduating from there
with his life long friends, but  instead he said,
"Oliver is more important to me than what school I
graduate from."  Now maybe you can see how one mistake
can mushroom into affecting many lives.  The one
mistake was not a small one, I'll grant you that, but
still I was surprised at how many people I hurt or
destroyed by my irresponsible neglect.  It was a very
big thing.  I wasn't mute for nothing.  Be that as it
may, nobody in my family ever complained that I was a
burden to them or that I was being unreasonable or
that I wasn't trying..... or anything else.  Every day
they told me they loved me and every day they asked
what they could do to help me but I couldn't think of
what more they could do for me.......I still couldn't,
or wouldn't talk either.

Christian fit in easily and made friends in the new
school.  As for me,  everyone involved felt I should
just skip this year and start 8th grade the following
school year.  The guidance counselor at the new school
said I was so far behind anyway that I'd never catch
up.  My father told her, "I'm not at all sure he
couldn't catch up, but we'll follow your professional
advise just the same."  So I missed a whole year of
school.  The reason my Dad said he wasn't at all sure
I couldn't catch up is because I'm very smart.  So was
Tyler.  That's one of the many things we had in common
that led us to be best friends.  Neither he nor I ever
received anything less than an A+ in any subject in
any grade.... ever.  And, we didn't even half try.
We'd laugh with each other at how simple a new math
concept was.  We'd groan with each other at how long
it took for the teacher to get the other students to
grasp the concept.  We were bored all the time we were
in class, but we had a blast together outside class.

Naturally, as we got to sixth and seventh grade some
of our class mates began calling us names,
like....geek, brown noser, fag, dork.  Some of the
kids thought we were showing them up I guess.  Tyler
and me would look at each other and make a face like
"what could they possibly be referring to?".  It was
all a joke to us.  We figured we'd get the last laugh
eventually.  Instead they got the last laugh.  "The
one genius killed the other genius..ha ha ha ha ha.
what a couple of losers!!  ha ha ha."  That was the
essence of the comments and I believe some of the
teachers secretly enjoyed our troubles too.  Tyler and
me were smarter then most of them too and some
authority figures have an identity problem when the
kids they're in charge of are smarter than they
are.....

Plus, as I mentioned earlier, we were on the small
side and we looked youngish and cute.  The bullies had
a lot of material to work with in their harassment of
us, but when it was the two of us we laughed at their
weak, pathetic efforts.  It wasn't so funny, however,
when it's just the one of us.....  I eventually found
this out in the new school, but that was not until
many months after we'd moved.

 I wasn't going to school so I'd be in our house alone
until my brother got home.  Although I had the largest
guilt complex in recorded history  I still managed to
jerk-off regularly and often.  I always thought of
Tyler.  I still couldn't cry, but I could self loathe
quite well.  I hated myself and I hated what I'd done
to ruin so many people's happiness ....including my
own.   So, the brief relief from my torment lasted
only as long as it took to shoot my load.......then it
was back to work, hating myself and day dreaming.

That was pretty much it.... besides wanking and hating
myself I relived the fun times I'd had with Tyler.
This was my main activity...day dreaming about me and
Tyler.   I loved to remember his voice.  Isn't that
odd?  Thinking about how he sounded when he talked of
course,  but also how he sounded when he sang.  I
loved thinking about him.   How he looked when he got
his different haircuts.  He was always trying new hair
styles and asking me how I liked them.   I loved them
all.   The faces he use to make to get me laughing and
the way he could make himself burp in order to gross
out people at the movies or the Mall.  These thoughts,
as well as so many  others,  combined to make-up my
Tyler 'day-dream life'.   I hadn't yet started my
night time dreams of him with us kissing and
all.....the dream I mentioned earlier.    That came
many months after we moved.  I think all the hours I
spent day-dreaming about Tyler led up to the night
time dreams, but all these things took lots of time
and time dragged by very slowly for me.....

Tyler and I liked to do things others didn't or
couldn't do.  For example, at age 12 we joined the
youth choir at church.  There were 68 kids in the that
choir and only two of the 68 were boys....Tyler and
Oliver. Ha ha...  We loved it....being different.  Of
course, in this choir you couldn't just join. That was
how the children's choir was, but not the youth choir.
 We had to audition for this choir.....anyone
attending school could audition, but you really had to
be able carry a tune... .you had to be able to
actually sing.  It evolved over the years that guys
didn't bother to try out....you know, because no boys
were in it, so therefore no boys tried out.  What came
first, the chicken or the egg.  Like that .....

So it was an all girl choir until Tyler and me broke
that up.  They didn't want us at first, but here's the
thing.......we could really sing.  We knew we could
because we'd been  singing along with CDs ever since
we were six years old and we were very good at it.
But, really......we didn't take credit for being able
to sing any more than we took credit for being smart.
We knew these were gifts that we were born with
......that it was simply a matter of having a
fortuitous mix of genes.  Luck of the draw.   We
weren't conceited at all......we were grateful.

Thinking back I remembered that one of the two best
times in the choir for Tyler and me was the first
Christmas we were members.  We'd become accepted by
that time and the girls adopted us as their 'pets' or
'mascots'...sort of.  Most of the girls were three or
four years older than Tyler and me. They became very
proud of us and eventually convinced us to do a
solo...well, it wasn't exactly a solo because there
were two of us, but it was just the two of us singing
and we sang the song ' a cappella' ....that is,
without music.  Our voices hadn't quite changed yet so
we had some real good 'pipes' to use hitting the high
notes.....

We sang " Ava Marie ".....it's a beautiful Christmas
song.  Tyler and I practiced that song, on our own,
100 times at least.   We sang it for the first time
publicly at Midnight Mass that Christmas Eve.....
about 18 months before Tyler's death.  There were 900
people crowded in the church that night and yet it was
as quiet in there as if it were empty.  All you heard
was Tyler and me singing, side by side,  in perfect
unison this emotional hymn with the high, dramatic
notes and beautiful  words......a true religious
Christmas hymn.  When we finished with a vocal
crescendo, on a very high note,  the total silence
continued for three or four seconds and as I started
to frown and look toward Tyler... ...everyone in that
church stood up and cheered and clapped.  They had
been stunned by our performance.

  I'd never heard a cheer that loud. We were mobbed
and hugged and kissed and thanked ...granted, it was
mostly the older grown up types who were offering the
congratulations, but there were some students too.
And every girl in the choir looked proud and shared in
our triumph.  It was one of the two most exhilarating
experiences of my life.

Another one was when we sang "Amazing Grace", just
Tyler and me.  Again without music.  This was at a
Mass in memory of a priest who'd served this parish
for years.  No hint of scandal ever touched our
parish...... this priest was generally given credit
for that.  I'm not sure why that was, but when he died
of old age the parish had this funeral Mass for him.
His favorite hymn was "Amazing Grace" and Tyler and me
were recruited to sing it.  Again the church was
packed to over flowing and after the main funeral
Mass, when his casket was being rolled up the center
aisle we sand the song......there wasn't a dry eye in
the house and the roar of approval at the end of the
song was louder than when we did Ava Marie.  Tyler and
me felt like rock stars or celebrities of some
sort......

All that singing carried very little weight with our
peers however......in fact, it worked against us.  The
guys in school made fun of us and called us 'girly'
queers.  We didn't care....we loved the applause and
we had many plans about being a rock star duo.....
sooner,  rather than later.  I helped kill him before
we could really get very far along with those plans
though.  I have not been back to church since Tyler's
death and I have no plans to be there anytime soon
either.  What kind of a God would let what happened
happen?

Other thoughts of Tyler included his mimic ability and
his perfect timing in getting me to laugh at the
absolute worse times.  Like in school auditorium
during a serious presentation, or in church,  or class
or in the movies with some wicked sad scene on the
screen.   All totally embarrassing moments because
Tyler would get me to crack-up while he maintaining a
poker face.  People looking over at me as I was
holding my balls laughing uncontrollably..... they
could see no one else around me, including Tyler, even
smiling.  He got me so many times....he could make a
face during some situation that made me burst out
laughing and he's go right back to having a serious,
puzzled look on his face.   He did his laughing
later....recounting the incident over and over till he
got me laughing again too.  Fun!

We were always together and almost every weekend we
had a sleep over.... taking turns at each others
house.  Tyler was an only child and his parents
treated me like they treated Tyler, as if I were their
son too.  I never saw them after Tyler's death.  Their
hearts turned to stone and they hated
everyone........I don't blame them.  They just sued
us and hated us and then left.... none of the million
things that we'd shared together carried over.  I was
a cancer to them.  My parents were very angry with the
way Tyler's parents acted toward me, but I still
missed them.  I missed their cat too, I missed Mrs
Harris' brownies, I missed their jacuzzi, I missed all
of that part of my life, I missed Tyler most of
all......he was one half of me and when he died I was
just a half a boy.       Why can't I cry?

Tyler had many funny ways of sayings things...jokes or
just a funny line.   He'd pick these things up from
reading or he'd make them up himself.  Once in English
class when our teacher was going on and on about how
us kids did not use correct grammar and stuff... Tyler
raised his hand and when called upon he said, using
absurd exaggeratedly proper English,   "Ms Wagner,
even if you learn to speak correct English, to whom
are you going to speak it?"  I thought that was
hilarious and blurted out with laughter.  Everyone
else frowned and looked at each other.  Tyler
maintained a serious, questioning look on his face.
Another time, out of the blue,  he said to me,
"Oliver, maybe there is no actual place such as Hell.
Maybe Hell is just having to listen to my grandparents
breathe through their noses when they're eating
sandwiches."  I roared with laughter because I'd eaten
with his grandparents.  Forget about the noises
generated when they were eating sandwiches,  how about
eating corn on the cob....We loved his grandparents,
but we also did not pretend the obvious didn't exist.
They're eating habits left something to be desired.
They both thought we were fabulous though and we never
showed them our 'mean' side.

Things made us laugh that seemed merely to puzzle
others.  Tyler usually said funny things in a serious
voice.  I remember he cracked his ankle  against a
heavy metal deck chair that we had around the pool and
at first he just yelled, "Fuck!"  And then, when the
acute pain subsided,  he sat in the chair and said,
"Oliver, you probably don't know this, but many people
believe that the shin was invented for finding
furniture in the dark.   Of course, others believe it
was the little toe.  What do you think?"  I'd say
something like, "Jeez, what was that, Tyler?  I missed
what you said because I was thinking that you should
never take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same
night."   We fell over laughing.......   Oh well, you
probably had to be there.  The main thing is we were
entertaining each other.  There were lots of these
exchanges all the time.  Memories of Tyler swirled
around my mind .... most of the time....

After nine months of therapy from the various
professional health care givers and nine months of
positive reinforcement and love from my parents,  and
most importantly,   nine months of encouragement and
long heart to heart talks with Christian.....  I
finally began to admit that I hadn't killed Tyler.
The conversations with my brother were one sided
because I still wasn't talking, but one sided or not
they were responsible for maybe the biggest part of my
recovery.  I finally agreed that I was part of the
reason Tyler is dead, but not 100% of the reason.  I
could have prevented the accident by pulling the
plastic cover over the empty pool.  Yes, that's very
true,  but I didn't kill him.

Tyler forgot we were draining the pool even though
this was discussed numerous times....plus, anyone
could see there was no water in the pool by just
looking.  Even from some distance away it was
obviously empty.  The large pool hose that went to the
main sewer drain was still sticking out at the corner
of the empty pool.  I was suppose to pull it out when
I dragged the cover over the pool.  Tyler had to be
very careless in many ways to allow this accident to
happen.....  It was an over sight with totally unfair
consequences........ but I hadn't killed him.

Me agreeing that I was being overly dramatic by
insisting I'd killed him was considered a major
break-through in my mental recovery.  It went more
quickly after that and I started actually
speaking....saying 'yes' and 'no' to Christian
first... and then to others.  One night in the dark
when we were in our beds I said, "Tha... tha.. thank
you for helping me, Christian.  I love you."  He got
out out of his bed and hugged me around my neck, the
sides of our faces together, and I felt his tears
dripping and running down onto my face.  I began to
talk more and within a week I talked as much as I ever
talked.  This was a wonderful step, but I'd brought a
stutter along with me out of my muteness.  I was
talking, but  I was stuttering at the beginning of
each thing I said.  Once I got going I was OK.    Odd,
but a good start just the same.

That's when I had the first dream with Tyler and me
kissing.....it occurred shortly after I started
talking again.  The subsequent peeing in my bed was
troubling to all, but not real surprising to the
doctors.  They thought that there would probably be
some substitute aberrant behavior after the months of
being mute was left behind.  Initially they thought it
was the stuttering, but now they believed it was
peeing the bed.  The doctors assured us that both
things were temporary.... both peeing the bed and the
stuttering.   Just another couple of steps to work
through as we worked toward a healthy mental outlook
for me.    Of course, I didn't tell anyone, not even
Christian, that the bed wetting was a result of a
dream in which Tyler finishes by jerking me off.  I
kept that to myself.    I didn't know what to make of
the stuttering. The harder I tried not to stutter, the
more I stuttered.  Weird!!

The psychiatric people were still worried about the
fact that I hadn't cried yet...that I hadn't dealt
with the grief yet.  On the other hand, they were
encouraged when I began to get these little periods of
time when I'd be furious at Tyler for his
carelessness.  He and I had done everything together
and it seemed that we'd even teamed up to help him
have a fatal accident.    Being angry at Tyler wasn't
something I felt very often, but this anger was seen
as a step in the right direction.  Like everything
else,  however,  it needed to be discussed and
analyzed till I was ready to scream!    It was getting
to the point where I couldn't stand being probed and
questioned about every thought I had any longer.

Slowly but surely the psychiatric visits thankfully
came to an end.  I begged to have them stop before I
started 8th grade.....I was already starting it a year
older than my classmates  and I didn't want to be
seeing a psychiatrist too.    Stuff like that has a
way of getting out.   I wanted to try and be as normal
as  possible.   Sadly,  it didn't go well right from
the first bell.

Maybe if the first day had gotten off on a better note
I wouldn't have been labeled a geek or a fag right off
the bat.  I had no luck though.... someone had found
out I was a year older than everyone else.  I still
looked very young, I was small and I had that little
bit of a baby face... ...so,  being older, but looking
smaller and  younger,  was too weird for the kids.
To make matters worse, my  homeroom teacher insisted
on telling everyone that I had an A++ average all the
way through seventh grade.  That was another strike
against me in the eyes of my class mates.  The teacher
wasn't done yet,  "Isn't that great class?"  She
wanted me to stand-up and take a bow and give the
class my secrets for getting straight A+ grades.

I knew immediately that this was all wrong.   I
couldn't understand how this teacher could be so
stupid!   What choice did I have though,  I half stood
up real fast and tried to say that I didn't have any
secrets about anything,  but it came out like this,
"Na na no..I da da don't have a secret."  I was
nervous.  Shortly after that  I heard some kid mutter
to his buddy, "Aren't we really fucking lucky to have
the oldest, stuttering, midget genius in the entire
8th grade right here in our very own homeroom" and his
buddy laughed and said, "Yeah, great!... and he is
definitely a fag...listen to him...for Christ sake,
look at him".   That was the high point of the day.
It was down hill from there and when a few kids label
you a loser it catches on and spreads like wild fire.
Others go along with it because they don't want to be
seen as backing a fag loser... god forbid!  The
stuttering was all the evidence they needed....it was
absolute final proof that  I was a geek, loser, and a
homo.

At first I tried to dumb it down, but my vocabulary
became one of my worse enemies too.  I'd hear, "What
the fuck does that mean?"  when I finally stutter out
a word with more than four letters in it.  And when
the ball gets rolling...forget about it!    Just about
 anything I did or said was misconstrued, mostly  on
purpose, and taken the wrong way.  If I tried to
ingratiate myself with one of the Alpha type guys he'd
say something like, "What?   are you queer for me or
something?"

Nothing worked so within a week I was a loner......I
concentrated on staying out of everyone's way and
keeping my stuttering mouth shut. And,  I kept posting
one perfect test score and term paper after another.
This really didn't help my popularity.... to say the
least.  The fact is, I should have skipped the whole
grade in the first place because I didn't learn a
single god damn thing the entire year.

No friends, and my brother was away at college..... I
was unhappy and lonely.  Instead of a psychiatrist I
was now going to a speech therapist once a week.  I
played on my computer a lot.  I took up jogging
because it was something you could do alone.... and it
didn't require talking.   Also,  running felt good.
That 'burn' you feel when you run past your previous
endurance level is a rush.  Plus, it took up time.

Obviously there were other kids in school who were
ostracized. I wasn't the only one by a long shot, but
I couldn't connect with any of them.  I shunned some
of those geeks myself.... so I wasn't a total innocent
in this whole 'loneliness' thing.   I could have hung
out with some of the labeled losers, but I had some
standards too.    It was a lonely time in my life and
that was that.

During the summer Christian came home and I became his
shadow day and night.  He didn't baby me, but he did
include me in everything he did.  I got revitalized
during the summer.  In ninth grade I joined the track
team and did pretty well but I still couldn't break
into a clique of any kind.  Each year there was less
name calling from the "in crowd" kids and more of just
ignoring me.  They wouldn't bother me if I didn't
bother them.  I took a deep breath and tried again to
form a number of friendships with labeled losers like
myself,  but nothing really was worth the effort.
They weren't any fun...being alone was better than
that.

My main past time, other than daydreaming about me and
Tyler,  became looking for cute boys to perve over.
As far as I could tell there weren't any gay guys in
my school except the obvious ones.... drag 'drama
queens ' and the  "I'm here, I'm queer...deal with it"
 crowd.  Way too confrontational for me.   I liked
guys who were guys that just happened to be gay.  In
all other ways they looked and acted like...well, like
guys.   I couldn't find even one of that kind of gay
guy in the entire five years I looked for one.

After ninth grade, for my birthday, my folks bought me
an aluminum "Trek" road bike.  It cost over $600 and
it was awesome.  I was intent on staying in running
shape and bike riding was an excellent exercise for
that.  My parents were just glad I had an activity and
a healthy one too.  I spent time with Christian that
summer but not as much as in past years.  Now I was
taking long 25 to 40 mile bike rides.....longer
sometimes.  I had a helmet and a small back pack with
snacks and water and lots of free time. Oh yes, and an
'I Pod' too,  for listening to the music that I loved.
 All types of music........ except rap.  When I'd ride
the bike I'd sing along with the songs and never
stutter, but still when I talked I always began with
stuttering.  Very frustrating.

I rode that bike everywhere.  I had a map of our town
and surrounding towns, but I still frequently got
lost.  That's one way to discover new places.  Half
way through that summer I took a bike trail that left
me off at a rest stop which also served a major
highway.  Bikes were not allowed on the highway, but
this rest stop was still a good find.  Many times I'd
had to pee behind a tree.  Now here was a rest room
for bike riders and motorist.  Maybe there were other
rest areas along this trail  too.  This might be a
very good discovery.  I parked the bike and went in to
pee.  While I was standing at the urinal a man came
right out of a toilet stall and stood behind me.  He
said, "Do you want to come in the stall for a second
so I can show you something?"

My pee stream immediately dried up.  I wasn't
especially naive even way back then so I figured out
right away what was happening.  I said, "Na.. na.. no
tha... thn... thanks."   Then I zipped up and went to
wash my hands even though I still had to pee a lot
more.  He lingered and said something like, "No
problem, kid...that's fine.  Sorry I bothered you."
Stuff like that.  He said it all in a very polite,
pleasant tone.  I looked at him in the mirror and saw
a nice looking, clean cut guy about 30 or so.  I
realized that even though I was panicked a little....I
actually  really did NOT want to go in the stall with
him.  He was too old.  I'd never thought about an
older guy before this.  I was 16 at the time.      I
left and rode down the path and finished my pee the
way I usually do it,  against a tree.  A squirrel came
up behind me but was strangely quiet.    It was
probably too old for me too.

The next day I came back with a vague plan to see if
maybe a kid around my age was hanging in the men's
room.  I waited an hour... only older motorist used
the facilities.  Two of them gave me eye to eye looks
with raised eyebrows...sort of in a questioning
manner.  I looked away.  Some of the cars stayed a
long time in the parking spots which screwed up plans
of me hanging around ....... so I took off.  For a
while I maintained hope of connecting with a kid
around my own age so the rest stop became a must visit
every day I rode the bike.   I rode up one day and
there was another bike locked in the small bike rack.
Hot shit, another kid.

I had to calm myself down before going inside.  I
wanted to be cool....like I knew the drill.  I went in
and saw legs in the first of two stalls.  My heart was
pounding as I started my pee.  The door to the stall
opened slowly and I heard foot steps coming up behind
me.  I was losing my nerve as the kid put his hand on
my shoulder and said, "I'll hold that for you while
you finish" and a hand came around and took my dick
from my hand.  It was the first time anybody but me
had held this 16 year old cock of mine and I started
to get hard.  Than I opened my eyes and looked at the
hand.  It was the hand of a middle aged man with some
gray hairs and bulging veins.

Gasping and backing up into him I said "Na.. na...
na... noooo!" and his hand pulled off my dick making
my pee stream swing across the urinal wall and then on
the floor.  He backed away saying, "OK OK..my mistake.
 Take it easy."  I looked around and this guy was
dressed in all the tight bike riding gear alright,
but he was at least 50 years old with a pot belly and
gray hair.  My face was red from being angry with him
....and I was angry with myself too as I ran out the
door like some little kid..... jumped on my bike and
rode away.  There wasn't anything wrong with that man
except in my eyes he was too old to have sex with.  I
was disappointed at my prejudice, but I couldn't make
myself want to have a sexual experience with just
anybody.   Why was I doing this anyway?  Why was I
hanging out in a public toilet?   It seemed perverted
and, I don't know.....unhealthy?

I didn't go back for a week and when I did it was more
of the same.  Going back to the toilet made me realize
how much I wanted some bodily contact, but it looked
like it was going to have to be from a boy around my
own age.  That is just how my subconscious mind had it
set up.  The need for some kind of a satisfying sexual
experience  got to be a stronger and stronger urge.
Jerking off helped, but I was itching for a gay buddy
if just for a one night stand.  The rest stop did not
seem to be the answer though and I was sexually
unfulfilled when 10th grade started.

My dreams of Tyler continued and I was still peeing
the bed every time I had the dream, but the dream only
occurred once or twice a month now.  I couldn't figure
out a meaningful pattern.  It seemed to occur
randomly.  Because they were so infrequent I just
tolerated the peed bed and continued using the rubber
under-sheet.  If the dreams  happened more frequently
I'd have considered incontinent underwear at
night.....the kind that some adults have to wear all
the time due to some health issues.  As far as my
family was concerned,  the bed wetting wasn't even
discussed..... it was just part of Oliver's world.

In the 10th grade I got the biggest crush on a boy.
He reminded me somewhat of Tyler except this boy was
six feet tall.   Never mind how tall he was, the crush
got stronger and stronger the more I looked at him.
His name was Robert and he was in my homeroom as well
as  three other classes.   Including gym class.   Oh
my god, all the crazy things  I went through in gym
class trying to see Robert naked.  It would be funny
if it wasn't  so pathetic.  He had brown hair that was
cut in a crew cut.  One of Tyler's favorite styles.
His face had a medium complexion with dark brown eyes,
complementary ears, nose, mouth and chin.....all
pretty much perfect.   Great smile.  Like Tyler.
Everything he did seemed so natural and cool.  I got
boners just watching him......  hard, painful boners.
For a while I felt guilty like I was cheating on
Tyler, but even I realized how stupid that thought
was.

The fantasies I concocted for Robert and me got more
elaborate as my crush on him intensified.  It got
scary for me to be so attached to a boy I'd never even
spoken to.  I had many day dreams of him..... during
the day of course...but, I also had them while laying
in bed before sleep.  This took up some of the time I
used to use for day dreaming about Tyler.  My
fantasies about Tyler and me  had never gotten further
than that  dream of mine about Tyler and me kissing
and grinding together and then Tyler jerking me off.
That is the only Tyler sex acts I could make
believable in my head.  I tried to imagine Tyler
blowing me or me blowing Tyler, but it just didn't
work in my head and therefore wasn't 'hot'.
Everything I fantasized about Robert 'worked'
........and I was jerking off like crazy as fast as I
could make-up new stuff in my head.

One fantasy was to have Robert unexpectedly show up at
my house.  In my fantasy, I had him ringing my
doorbell after school while I was home alone.  I'd act
surprised he even knew where I lived.  For his part he
would be shy all of a sudden and get real red in the
face.  I'd try to put him at ease... no need to feel
funny, "Why, Robert.  How are you?  Wonderful to see
you.  You look great!  Come on in."  He'd say that he
didn't think I even knew his name.  He'd confess to me
that he came to my house because he couldn't hold off
any longer.  He was wicked infatuated with me.   I'd
look a little surprised again. A crush on me?

Then,  in the fantasy, he grabs my head with a hand on
either side of my face and kisses me and licks me all
over and around my mouth.  Shortly  he'd start kissing
with his tongue in my mouth while slowly rubbing his
hand over my head and all through my hair.   In
between the hot, passionate kissing he'd  tell me how
delicious I tasted and how cute I was.  He would
finally work up the nerve to put his hands down the
back of my pants while grinding his crotch into mine.
Being three inches taller than me his rock hard boner
would be poking my belly button.

As he was groaning and moaning and covering my face
with saliva my boner would be throbbing and leaking
and twitching and feeling all together better than it
had ever felt before in my life!   In a near frenzy
he'd grope my bare bum cheeks and began fingering my
hole.  I would be trying to catch my breath,  but in
my daydream Robert was like a run away train.  Once he
started in on me he just couldn't stop.  He kept
saying how hot and cute I was and how he loved shorter
boys with brown hair and brown eyes.  He said he'd
never smelled anyone who smelled as sexy and yummy as
me and he couldn't get enough.  After a few minutes he
blew out a long hissing sound and humped into my belly
with his boner and shot a long rope of cum in his
pants moaning and sighing and swooning.  The cum wet
right through his pants leaving a huge stain on the
front.

He'd then sink down to his knees and beg me to let him
suck my cock, which was like a dripping steel pipe by
now.  He'd  undo my pants and pull out my boned up
cock and swallow it right down his throat.  I'd then
hold his head in place and fucked his face for 10
minutes before squealing a high pitched noise, that
only a bat could hear, and fill his throat and mouth
with my huge creamy cum load.  He'd be so hot and
turned on by me that he'd pull the rest of my pants
off and roughly turned me around...forcing me on my
hands and knees.  Spitting on my hole he'd force his
latest, brand new amazingly large boner in my
twitching hole....he'd push it  all the way up till
his huge swinging balls were smacking up against my
ass cheeks.  They'd make a slapping sound against my
creamy white bum  with each thrust into me.....he
fucked me till I saw stars.  We shot off together
...more huge loads of creamy cum.   Then, still not
satisfied, Robert would pull my head back by my hair
and made me lick his dripping cock clean.  We'd
collapsed into each other's arms.

And that's a mild example of my fantasies about
Robert.  All this from me, a boy who has never
experienced a real gay sex moment ever in his life.
Apparently that didn't matter when fantasy is
involved.  My cock was raw from jerking off thinking
up new things for Robert and me to do.  Sometimes I'd
be dominate and sometimes he'd be dominate, but the
sex was always rough when Robert and me did it......in
my mind.  We're no pussies.  I was obsessed with him.
I cam in my pants at school two different times
thinking of a fantasy while looking at him in class.
Both times I pulled my shirt tail out to cover the cum
stain that soaked through my pants.  Peeing my bed and
cuming in my pants.  I was a mess!

This continued all through tenth grade and into
eleventh grade.  OK, enough.....I decided I had to
make an effort to meet him.  I found out where he
lived and rode my bike over hoping to see him and
start some sort of communication or  conversation or
something.  Finally, on my forth try,  I did see him
walking a dog so I rode up and said, "Ha he hey,
Hi...you you're in my biology class aren't you?"
Robert looked up and said, "Yeah, duh!  I was in your
homeroom and three other classes last year too."  My
face got real red and hot.  "O ah oh, yeah.  That's
right.  Hi Robert."  He asked what I was doing around
here and I gave my planned explanation about training
for the track team by doing long bike rides.  I kept
my reply short and to the point.  I didn't want to
ramble on like I do sometimes.  I didn't want him to
lose interest..

Apparently he was losing interest though because it
didn't seem like Robert was paying any attention to me
at all.  He was staring at his German Shepard as it
did a huge dump on someone's lawn.  "Good boy,
Rabbit", he said and began walking away from the
steaming pile of dog shit..... totally ignoring it,
and me.  I rode away feeling a bit like that turd the
dog just shit out.  Next day Robert  didn't even say
"Hi" when I saw him in class. .   Well, one good thing
came out of that encounter and I didn't even realize
it until a couple of days later.  My crush for Robert
was totally OVER!  I didn't hate him or anything, I
just didn't have a crush on him anymore.  I couldn't
imagine why I'd ever had one on him in the first
place.... and for over a year!    What was I
thinking??  What the fuck had I seen in that dorky
tall drink of water.  The mind is a weird thing....a
complete mystery to me.  Robert and me were through.
I hope he doesn't take it too hard.  Break-ups can be
painful sometimes...

Christian had taught me to drive that past summer and
after completing Driver Ed at school I'd gotten my
license.  I got to drive Christian's hand-me-down car.
 Not as hot or as much fun as his hand-me-down
speedoes had been, but it was a 'ride'.   A ten year
old Toyota sedan.  He'd bought it off our uncle some
years ago.  So I was able to get around and run the
many errants that my parents came up with,  I enjoyed
it and loved the independence a car provides.  It made
me feel like I was no different than any other kid my
age.  Just a teenager........normal as all get out.

Christian graduated college the year I graduated 11th
grade.  I was a senior now.  I still had no one that
was really a 'friend', but I talked to a couple kids
that were on the track team and a couple in class from
time to time.  No one called me names any more, but I
was still an 'outsider' as far as anything vaguely
resembling an 'in crowd' was concerned.  I just wanted
to get out of High School and start fresh in college.

I'd gotten an early acceptance to a number of Ivy
League schools, but I'd decided on the University Of
Pennsylvania.  They had offered a 100% academic
scholarship.  A full boat...free ride though all four
years.  I still hadn't received a grade below an A+ in
eleven years of  school.  After my crush on Robert,
I'd had a couple of other crushes on cute guys but
they were only useful in the short term for my own
jerk off sessions.  I'd accepted that I wasn't going
to be able to experience a gay sexual episode until
college.  In college I was going to go for it.  I was
one randy boy!  The  'Tyler and me dream'  still
happened every couple of months, but I was expecting
them to fade away in the next year or so.  I could
just sense it.  Something was changing in my head.....

My feelings for Tyler were still very real, but after
almost five years those feelings lacked the sharp
edges of my earlier years of mourning.  I could feel
very, very  sad at times thinking about all the things
that he and I would have done together if he had
lived.  Of course, that would never have included sex
together.  That wasn't going to happen.  Ironically I
had more sex with Tyler through my dreams, because of
his death, than I ever would have had if he had lived.
 What would we have been like??  I wondered about that
often.  I know my life would have been much happier
with Tyler in it, but he was dead so I felt I had to
try hard to move on.... I felt I was moving
on.....some.

By my senior year I had grown to what I was sure was
my maximum height...5'9".  I was pleased with that
because there were some earlier years when I never
thought I'd make it past 5'6".  At 5'9" I was still
very thin, but I had a tight body from all the bike
riding and track team activities.  Running keeps off
the fat for sure.   I was happy with the way I looked
even thought apparently nobody else was very
impressed.  Fuck em!  I still stuttered some, but a
little less each month.  Peeing the bed was every two
months or so, but...as I said, I could feel that it
was fading out.  I was comfortable at school even
though I wouldn't say I had any fun there. I just
wanted to graduate and put this entire unfortunate
High School experience behind me.

Sure, I wish I could have had some fun....... but,  I
don't think I was depressed or grumpy or a
stick-in-the-mud type guy.  All would be better with a
brand new start in College.  On the sexual side,  my
latest infatuation was gay style fucking.  I wanted to
be fucked by some cute guy my own age.  No one
volunteered though.... so what to do about that?
Maybe do it myself.... like I had to do everything
else in my life. Hmmmm..   Buying a dildo was way out
of the question, but buying a cucumber wasn't.  I
decided to have some fun by myself,  planning this
self-fuck.  After some research in the produce section
of the super market, I thought the 'English' cucumber
was best suited to act as a boner.  It has a more
realistic size and shape than regular or pickling
cucumbers.  I wanted to do it with a condom on the
cucumber so I bought some lubed condoms at the drug
store.  That was a story right there, but I'll spare
you the details.  Suffice to say it took almost two
hours to make the condom purchase ...and two different
drug stores.

The cucumber was  a much easier purchase.  I did look
carefully to make sure that there was no one from the
drug store where I got the condoms watching me pick
out a cucumber.  I had bought a lot of other stuff I
didn't need with the condoms purchase and I did the
same thing with the cucumber purchase.  Finally I was
alone at home with all my stuff.  Heart pounding and
head sweating....I tried to calm down to enjoy my
first fuck.  I peeled off the plastic wrap on the
cucumber and rolled the lubed condom on.  I had
purposely chosen a smaller size English cucumber.  The
cucumbers were all $1.50....large ones and  small
ones....... so probably me choosing a smaller one made
the cashier think I was a bad shopper.  That I would
even think that kind of thought should  give you a
clue  how goofy I was getting over this whole matter.

I was determined to try it  just so I'd get an idea of
what it might feel like...that's all I wanted, just an
initial idea of what it might feel like.     I lay on
the bathroom floor naked with my knees pulled up near
my chest and reached around with the condom covered
cucumber to find my hole.  It was awkward but I got it
there and exerted some pressure. No luck, it didn't go
in with that first push.   Before I could try
again....... out of no where,  an image of Tyler
filled my mind.

He had the big smile that I remembered so well and I
immediately recognized the surroundings in this image
I was having of him.  He'd just whispered to me he
wanted to tell me about this  bizarre incident
involving a cucumber.    We were sitting in our choir
robes...in the choir section of church  just before
Mass started.   I remember I frowned at him and said,
"A cucumber?"  He was obviously trying not to laugh as
he thought about the tale in his own mind.    Although
he was smiling some,  he talked in a serious voice.
I thought it was a true story ... in the beginning.

He leaned over to me and whispered,  "Oliver, I read
in the paper about a doctor who had this poor bastard
in the emergency room with a whole cucumber up his
ass."  I said, "No way!"  Tyler continued, "Oh
yeah...it's true.  The patients wife asked the doctor
how the cucumber could possibly have gotten up there.
The doctor told her, "...Ma'am,  your husband needs to
chew his food better!"       I roared with laughter
and my laughter disrupted the entire Mass for a few
minutes.  I was led out of the choir section by one of
the older girls.  I couldn't stop laughing
....imagine, the wife believing her husband swallowed
a whole cucumber and it went through his entire system
and came out just like it went in!   Ha ha ha..  Just
visualizing it...the impossibility of it..... the
absurdity of it.......

I was laughing uncontrollably on the bathroom floor
now too.  Not just the joke, but Tyler telling me the
joke at the worse possibly, inappropriate time.   He
was so funny...I was screaming with laughter as I lay
on the bathroom floor......except, I didn't seem to
actually be laughing.   I soon realized I wasn't
laughing at all.  I was crying and blubbering and
blowing mucus bubbles out of my nose and I couldn't
stop.  I heaved the cucumber against the shower
curtain and it fell into the bathtub.  I stood up and
swung my arm across the shelf over the toilet knocking
pictures and bottles of stuff on the floor.  I was out
of control.  The tears ran down my face like rain in a
thunderstorm.  I'd never cried this hard as a baby or
as a toddler  .....not even that time I fell down the
steps.

I was literally screaming through my tears, "What kind
of a fucking idiot dives into an empty pool.  Tyler
you couldn't possibly be that stupid!  Why didn't you
look? Why? Why? Why?  Any fucking fool could see there
was no fucking water in that fucking pool !"  I yelled
stuff and threw the bath mat and kicked at it......I
wildly pulled the entire roll of toilet paper off the
spindle....it lay in a pile on the floor as I ripped
the towels off the towel racks and threw them around
my head and, finally,  out of shear exhaustion I
flopped on the floor myself.... I lay there sobbing
and the tears kept coming.

I got a bad case of the hiccups and I couldn't stop
hiccuping or crying.  Then I felt that unmistakable
feeling that I was going to puke.  I barely got to the
toilet before vomiting violently into the toilet
bowel.  I cried all the harder as I started in on
myself by hysterically screaming with  the words
echoing off the bathroom tiled walls.... "Why didn't I
pull that fucking plastic cover over the pool??  Why
was I so lazy and stupid??.....  but, still,  who the
fuck is going to dive in a pool that clearly has no
fucking water in it??  Who? Who Who?  That stupid
fucking Tyler!  That's who! He ruined my life!!  I
hate that fucker so much!!"

My crying was not letting up, but my strength was.
Naked,  I laid on my back on the bathroom floor with
tears and mucus running off both sides of my face and
I continued the irrational tirade in my head...too
weak to say them out loud any longer.  Then another
thought drifted in....I'm having a god damn nervous
breakdown or some such shit!  I'm going crazy!  I've
lost my fucking mind.  These thoughts slowly brought
me back to the boundaries of reality... the edge of
sanity.  I calmed down some and lay there quietly
sobbing.....testing my state of mind.  When I thought
of my remark about "Hating Tyler" I began crying
harder again and I blubbered out I was sorry....that I
loved him...I didn't hate him.  The crying built up
again.  I was too weak to do anything but lay there
and cry.

I felt so sorry for myself.  Then I felt so sorry for
Tyler.  I tried to imagine how different my life would
have been...how much more fun I would have had, if
only that accident hadn't happened.  I sobbed and
groveled and cried for a half hour more and then fell
asleep right there on the floor.   It was the last
week of winter  and so when I opened my eyes it was
dusk outside....dark in the bathroom.  I knew
immediately where I was and what I'd just experienced.
 My watch read 5:30pm....I'd been in the bathroom
almost two hours so I must have slept for more than an
hour or so.  I didn't have the feeling I was about to
start crying again so I slowly pulled myself up and
turned the light on.

I felt like I was in a trance and without thinking
very much about anything I spent 20 minutes cleaning
up the bathroom.  The last thing I did was wrap the
cucumber and condoms in newspaper and put it all under
other trash in the middle of the trash barrel.  I took
a long shower.   I drank two tall glasses of water and
then wrote a note to my Mom.  She gets home from work
first.  I told her I loved her......I couldn't think
of the proper way to describe my feelings.  Best not
to even try...it might worry them even more.  I told
her I had the flu or something and I didn't feel well
so I was going to bed and sleep right through until
tomorrow.  I wrote again that I loved her and Dad very
much.  What to do next?

My head ached like mad so I took three Tylenol and I
went to bed.  I was exhausted .... thinking about my
tirade again I got weepy and then I dozed off.  Some
time later I thought I heard footsteps coming up the
stairs....... I knew it would be my mother looking in
on me.  The next conscious thing I noticed was the
steady sound of rain.  I thought, "I'm glad it's not
snow because if it was I'd have to shovel it."  Then I
remembered the previous afternoon and my breakdown or
whatever it was.  The clock read 6:00am which means I
been in bed for twelve hours and I'd slept  through
most of those twelve hours.  I got up and got dressed
for school.  I needed food so I ate two large bowls of
cereal and drank two large glasses of orange juice.
No one was up yet.

My mind was in neutral, but I knew  something
important had changed.  I knew I was never again going
to see Tyler in our dream together.  I bit my lip and
big, fat, warm tears rolled down my face, but it only
lasted a few minutes.  I thought in my head, as if I
was sending a message to Tyler.......I thought, " I'll
never love another person as much as I loved you,
Tyler. No way!    Never"  ....I also said to him, in
my mind, that "I'll never forget you, but I have to
put you in a special place in my heart and then start
to make a life for myself......"       I was 19 years
old and it was two months till I graduated from High
School.  And good riddance to it...too!  I pulled my
self together and went to face the world again.

There were two main items left to get through and I'd
be done with 12th grade and High School forever.  I
was valedictorian so I'd have to give a speech at the
graduation ceremonies.  At first I was going to take
that opportunity to give a scathing account of
uncontrolled bullies in our High Schools who were
ruining the High School experience for those students
not deemed worthy to be part of the "in crowd".....and
the teachers and the administrators who did nothing
about it.  And so on.  But, in the end I wrote a
speech of optimism and opportunities and challenge.
Exceed your dreams.....and that kind of drivel.  Maybe
one, just one student will think...fuck, why was I so
mean to that kid?  Just one.....

The other thing is the Senior Class Trip.  I wasn't
going to go, but it  turns out to be  three nights in
Philadelphia.  Philadelphia is where University Of
Pennsylvania is located.  The college I'm going to in
the Fall.  I'd seen the campus on a two hour tour, but
I wanted to roam all around it on my own.  You
know....while the students were still there and just
see what I could see.  Maybe check out if there are
any openly gay activities..... or,  who knows what.  I
had a few fantasies of a Freshman noticing me and
taking me to his dorm room and fucking me all night
long....or at least taking me out for coffee and
talking to me.

The one huge hangup was the  "buddy system" for rooms.
 Buddies could stay together.  Most of the rooms were
for four, but a limited number were for two guys.  I
wanted to have a room for one,  of course....there
were none of those.  Guys, like me, who didn't have a
particular person who we wanted to bunk with were
listed on a sheet and assigned alphabetically as room
mates.  Then these guys switched around with their
assigned guys until I was the last one left.  Yep.
There were 381 students going and I was that '1'.  No
room mate.  So, guess what.  Even worse!  I had to
share a room with one of the chaperons.

The hits just keep on coming.  A week before the trip
Mr Degenerate called me over as I was walking down the
hall.  He told me I was the lucky guy who got to share
a room on the trip with him.  He was trying to be
funny and a good guy I guess.  He is a first year
guidance counselor....one year out of college.  I'd
talked to him a couple of times and he seemed real
nice, real helpful.  Very youthful looking guy with a
ready smile and something nice to say to everyone.  I
could have got a lot worse. He squeezed the back of my
neck and said, "Don't seem so thrilled, Oliver!"  and
then he chuckled a little.  He said, in a
conspiratorial voice that he'd gotten us a room with a
double bed AND a pull out sofa.  So we'd each have our
own bed.......he hesitated and added, "If we want our
own bed."  Another laugh and squeeze on my neck and he
was off to spread good cheer elsewhere.  I realized my
face was kind of scrunched up....I was puzzled about
something....

Oh well, a week to go until the  High School Senior
Trip is on, then a little bit more High School and
then my life begins....

conclusion soon.....

fiction by Donny