We were finally alone in my bedroom. I could tell Chad was eager to talk to me alone. I told my parents we were tired and were going right to bed. It wasn’t too early for that, and they probably thought the excitement of a date had worn us out. My mom looked at me, and at Chad, and her eyes were smiling. I don’t think she was fooled. She’s pretty smart. I think she knew we just wanted to be able to talk privately.
When I closed the door, Chad was on the bed as soon as he could toe his shoes off. He still seemed in a strange mood that kept changing, if I could read his face correctly. Right then, on the bed, he seemed fine, just like usual, which wasn’t how he’d seemed just five minutes earlier.
“Oh my God,” he started, then began laughing.
I joined him on the bed. This time, I slid up next to him against the headboard, grabbing both my pillows out from under the top of the bedspread, handing him one, and putting the other behind me to rest my back against.
He copied me getting settled, then said, “Was that really you? ‘Arrrggghhhhh! Arghhh arghh arghhh, aahhhhhhhh!’”
“And then her. I thought you were mating with a pig. All that grunting! ‘Grunt. Slurp. Grunt. Slurp. Oooh.’ I guess that last part was when she got her reward?”
“Will you shut up?”
He grinned at me, his eyes flashing. I couldn’t help myself, even knowing what would happen. I yelled, “Arrrrgg!” and rolled over on him. It was the only way I knew how to stop him. He was embarrassing me. Even if it was funny. I’d been feeling some tension, and this was relaxing that, which I needed.
He was laughing too hard to put up much of a fight. We rolled around on the bed a bit, and what I knew would happen, happened. So before he noticed I rolled off him and back to my pillow. It took a second or two to get my breath back, and then I said, “So you could hear us?”
“Hear you?! We were sitting there when you two left, and I was trying to make a decision on whether to make a move, and Allison was sort of shyly smiling at me, which I took to mean she would have liked it if I did, when noises started coming from the bedroom. She sort of wrinkled her forehead, and lifted her head to hear better.
“Well, the noises started getting louder, and pretty soon, it was kind of obvious what was going on in there. Not exactly that you were getting blown, but that some pretty intense making out was going on.
“So she’s not interested any longer in any moves I might make, being distracted as she was. She’s listening, and she starts blushing because then she’s figured it out. And then Brittany starts getting louder, and Allison starts really getting upset, and then you let out these noises sort of like a hyena taking a dump and having an epileptic fit all at the same time, and I can’t help it, I start giggling. Well, I can’t stop, and she’s looking at me with something like horror on her face, like she’s seeing me for the first time and I’ve got bat guano all over my face.
“I didn’t know what to do! I finally stopped giggling. But she’d moved into the corner of the couch as far from me as she could get, and it was clear she didn’t want me anywhere near her.
“About then I guess you started returning the favor because we started to hear Brittany and she was louder than you were, and really enjoying herself, and it took her much longer. We just sat there till you came out, Allison getting colder all the time, and if I moved at all and she thought I was coming towards her she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me. Neither of us was saying a word. But we were listening. And when Brittany would squeal I couldn’t help it, I’d sort of snort in laughter, then try to look apologetic about it, then snort again. That kept happening till you walked out looking about two feet tall. I was going to laugh then, but the way you looked, I thought maybe you’d injured your balls, which was why you were walking the way you were, so I was concerned.”
He was looking into my face, and I grimaced, and he began roaring again.
I couldn’t help it. I started laughing too. Well, I decided, it actually was funny.
We talked some more. After awhile I suggested we undress and go to bed. He agreed. We both stripped to our boxers, then he got in first. I followed him, feeling horny. Wrestling with him, talking about what I’d been doing with Brittany, being next to him when he was only wearing boxers, anticipating that something might happen when we were in bed together, yeah, I was definitely horny.
We lay there for a minute or two, both just thinking. Then he said, softly and sort of wistfully, “Man. A blowjob. It sure sounded like you were having a good time.” But the way he said it, it wasn’t the same voice he’d used just a moment ago. It was as though his mood had changed again. I had no idea what was going on with him. I wanted to ask him, but decided not to. I had my own stuff to think about right then. Because while some of what I’d done with Brittany was fun, some of the emotions I felt weren’t.
“Well, yeah,” I said. “I kind of wish it had been with someone I really cared about, but it was nice. Now I know what it feels like. I’m glad you talked me into it.”
He didn’t answer right off. Like he was thinking about that. Then he said, “It really felt good, huh? Better than jerking off?”
We’d never talked about jerking off before. Him asking me that made my horniness increase off the charts, and my boner jump in my shorts.
“Yeah. Much better.”
“Damn, it sort of makes me horny, just thinking about it. Thinking about you in there. Uh, I mean, thinking about me being there instead of you.”
“Me too,” I answered him. I was hoping, hoping like crazy, that this would lead to him saying he needed to jerk off. To asking me if I wanted to do it with him. To asking me if I’d do it to him if he’d do it to me. I was so hard, it was starting to hurt.
He spoke again, with that same subdued voice. “Well, I guess we’ll both have to wait. I’m really tired, and need to sleep. Good night, Marc.” And then he rolled over on his side, facing away from me, and I could hear his breathing slow and deepen in only a minute or two.
Me, I was hard as a rock and likely to stay that way. And I did, for probably an hour before it finally softened and I fell asleep.
I’d been stewing over something for a while now. I’d learned that Chad had no problems with gay kids. And I thought I was gay. I certainly liked him, and in general I liked and thought about boys more than girls. I also knew from reading that you changed as you grew up, and you felt different about things at 23 than you did at 13, so I didn’t know that I’d be gay when I was older, no matter what I was now. But the books said a lot of boys feel like I do when they’re my age, and don’t end up gay.
So it was just another thing to be confused about.
It wouldn’t do any good to talk to my parents about it. I was pretty certain there wouldn’t be a problem there. I mean, they made it clear they loved me every day. I couldn’t possibly in a hundred years think that if I told them I thought I was gay, they’d say, ‘Well, in that case, we don’t love you anymore.’ That simply couldn’t happen.
But how would talking to them help? They’d be in the same boat I was, not knowing if I would still be gay when I grew up. So, since they couldn’t help, why tell them? I didn’t see anything positive or helpful coming from it.
Besides, if I did, in a couple years they’d probably start trying to fix me up with cute boys, and that would be embarrassing as all get out, what with me still being shy and all.
But back to the thing I’d been stewing about. I knew I liked Chad. I was thinking I probably loved him, but I didn’t know exactly what that felt like so wasn’t sure. Now that I knew him a lot better, now that I was spending more time with him, I thought about him all the time and could hardly wait till I saw him every day. If it wasn’t love, it was sure something like it. And I knew he didn’t have anything against gay kids. I already said that! So, why shouldn’t I tell him I’m gay?
That was my dilemma. Should I do it? On the one hand, I wouldn’t have this big secret I was keeping from him, and I could act like I wanted to act around him, like those wrestling matches and jumping on him when he was on the bed and all. I could get hard and not worry about it. It would just be more honest and I wanted to do it. I wanted him to know.
But, what if it changed our relationship? And I thought it probably would. Think about that jumping on top of him stuff. If he knew I was gay, Chad being Chad, he’d ask if I liked him, and if I lied about that, then there was no reason to tell him in the first place; it was lying and not telling the whole truth that I was trying to stop doing. If I told him the truth, would he be comfortable with me jumping on him? Holding him down? Rubbing against him? Feeling me get excited and knowing the reason was that I liked him?
I just didn’t see how he’d simply be able to ignore that I liked him. He’d have to react to it, to me, wouldn’t he? Maybe he could handle it. Maybe he’d only react a little, but I didn’t want what we had together to change, even a little. I felt really close to him. We talked about everything, confiding things to each other. The thought of that changing kept me from telling him, even if he didn’t have any problem with gay kids.
So I didn’t tell him, as much as I wanted to.
Monday was an in-service day. I thought that was a silly name, but that’s what the teachers called it. They had meetings and stuff to do for the school, and had to do that stuff instead of teaching us, so we got out early. It had something to do with state law and hours taught and showing up for school attendance rolls and other stuff I didn’t understand, but the good thing about in-service days was, we got out at ten in the morning.
Now what happened when you let a lot of kids out of school early, and their parents were all still working, was all the kids headed to the mall. All of them.
So Chad and I were at the mall. Which was pretty neat, hanging around there instead of going to classes. We’d gone to the food court first, but that’s where everyone went first and it looked like we’d have to wait in line till next Sunday, so I said we should just come back later, and he agreed. We didn’t have anything to shop for; that was rarely why we went to the mall. So, we just started walking around, going in some of the stores, but mostly just talking and watching the other people.
It didn’t matter what we did. We could have been doing anything. I was with Chad, and so I was happy.
We were in Mason’s, a store that sold mostly CDs. Chad was showing me what he liked, and I was telling him how he had no taste in music and what I liked, and he was pretending to barf, and it was kind of fun, when I noticed Chad had stopped talking. He was staring down the aisle at something, so I turned to look, too.
It was a big store with long aisles filled with racks of CDs. We were near the front. About two-thirds of the way to the back, there was a kid who looked about our age, or maybe younger, maybe only 12. He was sort of raggedy looking, and his hair was too long, the too long sort of look that meant it hadn’t been cut recently rather than it was a deliberate style, and it was uncombed. His jeans were torn, and it didn’t look like designer tears. He was going through the CDs in front of him.
I turned back to Chad. “What’s so interesting about him?”
“I just saw him do something. Weird. Uh, turn your body so you’re facing the racks instead of him, then you can turn your head to watch. But, he’s going to look this way soon. When he does, look at the racks, not him.”
I was puzzled, but did what he asked. Sure enough, pretty quickly he took a CD from the rack, checked it out, and then, holding it, turned to look around. When he looked our way, we were both looking through the racks. When I could see him look way out of the corner of my eye, I looked back. He was still holding the CD, and then he dropped it. He crouched down to pick it back up. But what happened next startled me.
He had something in his hand as he went down. While still on the floor, he picked up the CD and fiddled with it, and then slipped it into his pocket. The outside casing that had the theft-proof device on it was in his hand, and when he stood up, he put it back in the rack, as though he was putting the CD back.
Then he started sort of idly walking around, glancing at this and that, and I saw he was making his way to the front of the store. When he got there, he picked up a CD, looked at it, then put it back and walked out into the mall.
“He stole a CD!” I was shocked. I’d heard about shoplifting, of course, but never had witnessed it before.
“That’s the third one. I saw him do two others just before this one. Let’s follow him,” Chad suggested, and started after him.
“Shouldn’t we report it?”
“I’d rather check him out.”
We walked out and saw the kid sauntering down the main aisle of the mall. We stayed well behind him, but it didn’t matter as he never turned around.
He kept walking, and then stopped outside of Macy’s. He stood there, looking around. In less than a minute, another kid walked up to him. He was older, probably 17 or 18. He and the young kid spoke for a moment, then the older kid stuck his hand out. The younger one handed him the CDs. The older kid glanced at them, then handed the younger one some money. They both turned and walked off in different directions.
“You see that? The kid stole those CDs and sold them to another kid.” I couldn’t believe it. “We should tell a mall cop.”
“Wait a bit. Let’s keep following the kid.”
I didn’t know why Chad wanted to follow him. The kid was a thief. I thought we should just turn him in. But, Chad was already walking off, so I joined him and we followed the kid.
He was headed toward the food court. When we got there, most of the school kids had been served and the lines were short. The kid got in the KFC line, and with Chad not giving me any choice, we got in it behind him.
Pretty quickly he was at the counter. He ordered two lunch meals. I didn’t really want their greasy chicken for lunch, but Chad ordered the same thing the kid had, so I did too.
The kid got his two boxes and two drinks and started off. While we were waiting to be served, Chad had been watching the kid, so knew where he was.
We walked through the tables, me following Chad, and he stopped and set his stuff down. I saw the kid, sitting at a table not far from us. There was another kid with him.
The other kid looked like he was seven, maybe eight. Blond hair, also too long, and ratty clothes. The kid we’d followed opened the boxes, and the younger kid dived in like he hadn’t eaten in a week.
The thief started eating, too, but slower. The younger kid finished first, and looked at the piece the other kid hadn’t got to yet. The older kid nodded, and quickly the piece was gone.
I looked at Chad. He looked back. “Still think we should tell the cops?” he asked me softly.