8th Grade

Cole Parker

Part 3 of 3

Chapter 11

That got Brad's attention. The tears and shaking were long gone. Even in the dark room I could see the smile that lit up his face. It was a large, happy, excited smile. And that wasn't the only thing that changed. I immediately felt him get excited down below, too. We were still clinging to each other, we were only wearing boxer shorts, and neither of us could hide our sudden feelings of lust, not that we wanted to. But we were two very eager 13-year-olds, and at 13, arousal takes about as long as it takes for a jack-in-the-box to leap out once the lid is opened. And the lid that had been covering our emotions, with us wanting each other and not being able to say or do anything about it, had just popped open.

"Brad?" I asked. "Uh, have you, like, ever messed around before? I know you've gone out with girls. But did you ever do anything with any of them? Or, uh, any boys?"

"How do you know about the girls I've dated?" he asked. His voice had gotten lower and become husky, and he was slowly grinding into my leg. I was doing the same to him, and the motion felt almost automatic, like I didn’t have any control over it. The feeling of him doing that, the feeling I had responding to it, was almost too much for me. I was harder than I’d ever been, that was sure.

"You say you've been watching me." My voice sounded husky, too. "Guess what? You weren't the only one grooving on someone, watching them with no one knowing it. The only difference was, you had a crush and were just trying to figure me out. I was looking at you like you were a teen idol, and I had no idea I'd ever have the courage to talk to you, let alone get acquainted. And certainly there was never a thought of you wanting me, of you liking me, and I'd have been crazy to think you'd want to be in bed with me." I giggled.

By this time, I was grinding into him even harder, my movements becoming more frantic. This wasn't a conscious activity; my body just seemed to do it on its own. "So, what have you done with someone else?"

"Not much. The girls all want to date me, but their or my parents drive us to the movies or the bowling alley or the mall and we can't do anything there. I've kissed two of them quickly a couple times, but that's all. Well, I've held hands, too, but that hardly counts. But that's it."

"What about boys?"

"Danny, I don't like boys, I like you! I've never even thought about a

boy that way. I'm in the showers with them almost every day, and other

than checking them out because I'm just as curious as everyone else,

I'm not interested in any of them. They don't excite me or anything."

We were still lying on our sides, facing each other. While he was

saying this, I'd been slowly rubbing my hands over his back and then

his chest. I'd never made out with anyone, and this was so exciting

and felt so awesome I could hardly contain myself. It was amazing. I

didn't know what I was doing, yet everything I did felt right, felt wonderful, and was exciting beyond belief.

"Danny?" breathed Brad.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to take our boxers off?"

Oh yeah! I didn't even bother to answer. I just reached down to my hips, lifted them and shucked off my boxers. When he felt me doing so, he did the same. Then we laid back down, still facing each other, and I reached out and pulled him to me in a hug. Wow, what a feeling. We both, instinctively, began grinding again, and more urgently if that were possible. And a little harder.

A few moments later I said, "Brad?"

"Yeah." Huskily.

"Can we slow down? I want this to take longer, and it's not going to

take any time at all if we keep this up. I want to look at you. I want to touch your body. I've never done anything with anyone else, and I don't want this to be over too soon."

Brad stopped grinding. "That sounds good. Let's do whatever you want. I can’t believe how this feels."

I sat up. First, I just wanted to look at him. I'd never seen another

boy who was aroused. He rolled onto his back and I looked down at him. Even in the almost dark room I could see him lying naked and excited. He was more beautiful than seemed possible. Maybe that's because it was Brad. I looked at him for a moment, then reached down and touched him. "Oh, Danny," he gasped, "that's, that's, ooohhh."

I just held him, not moving my hand, feeling his heat, feeling

his heartbeat. He started wriggling and quietly moaning. I took my hand away. Then I leaned down and put my face against his chest. I could smell his scent, and the softness of his skin combined with the firmness of his muscles underneath was a contradictory wonderment. With my face on his chest, I reached out my tongue and touched the nipple that was in front of my face. He inhaled sharply.

I continued stroking his body lightly with my hands. I loved the feel of his skin and the way he responded to my touching it. Brad was really wriggling now. His breathing was getting faster, too. So I did what I'd been wanting to do forever. I rose up onto my hands, leaned forward, letting my body press fully against his, and kissed him.

His lips were soft and moist. I'd never kissed anyone on the lips before. I'd thought about it, fantasized over for it, wondered about it, but never done it. I don't know what it would be like to kiss someone I didn't have any emotional attachment to, but Brad? This was simply incredible. Our lips came together and held there, and I think I forgot all about breathing. Or anything else but the feelings I was having. I was in sensory overload.

And then it got better. I felt his tongue poke through his lips and brush mine. He slowly swiped it back and forth, and I, not being a dummy, quickly caught on and opened my lips a little wider without removing them from his.

He gently thrust his tongue into my mouth and started moving it around. I don't know how I could get any more aroused but this was fantastic. I could actually feel myself getting warmer. This felt so good! So sexy! His tongue tickled the roof of my mouth and it was as though electricity was running through my head, through my whole being. I started pushing at his tongue with mine. I wanted to be in his mouth. He felt my want and withdrew his tongue back into his mouth. I followed it with mine.

I explored his mouth. While I was doing that, he began rubbing his hands lightly over the skin on my chest, then my back, then down my sides. When he brushed my nipples it almost felt like a shock. He reached down even lower.

And then suddenly I said, "Oh, Brad. I think I need to, well, I’m going to. . . ."

"Yes," he said urgently. "I’m ready too."

We both sat up. We wriggled around so we were facing each other, our knees touching, our legs crossed. We reached for each other. We were both so excited, so overcome with emotions and build-up, it took no time at all before we were both gasping and panting.

And then it was over for us both. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced, more than what I had imagined. Brad obviously felt exactly the same. He didn’t say anything, just looked at me in awe. We both rocked forward, landing with our heads on each other shoulders. That was the only thing that kept us upright.

I was almost light-headed. We sat there, panting, leaning on each other for support. His arms came up and wrapped around me. I did the same thing. We held each other without speaking for several minutes while our breathing slowly returned to normal. Finally, Brad took a deep breath. He pulled his head back away from mine, looked me in the eyes, grinned, and said, "Fucking unbelievable!"

I looked into his eyes and just existed, a mass of emotions and feelings and happiness.

Chapter 12

"That was wonderful," I said, my voice tempered by exhaustion and more emotion that I’d ever experienced before. "I've never felt anything like that in my life. I can't even describe it."

"Me neither. I can't believe how that felt." Brad breathed softly. "You know, I was worrying and scared, but after that, well, I just loved it and want to do it again with you and I'm not worried. Why should I worry, it just feels too good. I loved it."

"Me too, Brad" I gushed. "That was the best thing I ever did." I sighed. "I guess we have to keep quiet about it, not let people know, but, wow, I feel great, Brad."

Brad grinned his wicked grin at me and pushed me back onto the bed.

Then he got on top of me and started kissing me. I can't believe anyone else can kiss like Brad can. As soon as he started kissing me, even after what we’d done only a few minutes ago, I was hard as I'd ever been. He was too, and I could feel him pressed between us against my stomach. It felt wonderful. So did the kissing. Kissing has to be the fastest way to get excited there is.

We hadn't done any experimenting with other boys before, neither one of us. We began making up for what we'd missed. We learned and

practiced a lot of different ways to kiss that night, and how the skin

all over our bodies felt when being stroked and rubbed and caressed

and even licked. I learned his toes were very ticklish and the bottoms of his feet even more so. I learned how he reacted when I gently moved my fingers up his legs and over his inner thighs. I saw how he responded when I held him while stroking other parts of his body, sometimes firmly, sometimes so lightly there was almost no pressure at all. I learned a lot about how my body reacted to this sort of thing, and that sort of thing, too, and learned a lot of things you can only learn if someone else is teaching you or doing them with you. Someone you really care about.

We both had another orgasm that night but never got beyond stroking

each other or rubbing against each other. I certainly thought of it, he probably did too, but neither one of us said anything about it. I think we both were too excited about what we were doing and both realized this was our first night together. What we were doing was all new to us and so right, so good, there was no reason to try to go farther than where we already were. We wanted to fully enjoy just what we were doing. This was all overwhelming and it felt so great. It was perfect, and if sometime soon I discovered it was perhaps somewhat innocent, that there were other things that felt great too, for now what we were doing was much more than enough.

--- --- {} --- ---

We finally fell asleep late that night, and being 13, slept till after noon. After waking up and seeing the time, and incredibly, feeling horny, I watched Brad, the terribly cute sleeping Brad, for a few moments, then reached down and very gently began squeezing him where it feels good. After a few minutes, when he'd been hard awhile, he sleepily said, "Uhhhh.

"Uhhh as in, 'Uhhh, what the fuck are you doing, pervert?' or 'Uhhh,"

as in, "don't stop?'" I asked, pausing in my groping.

"Hey, who said anything about stopping?"

"Oh, that's what I thought you meant" I said, grinning.

Twenty minutes later he was in the bathroom showering. We thought it would look better if we didn't do that together, though I really wanted to. So he went first and I followed quickly afterwards. I dressed in clothes I'd brought from home.

After breakfast, we decided it would both look good and be wise to go over our math, the supposed objective of our night together. We sat

at the kitchen table and worked. I was impressed; Brad had remembered everything we'd worked on, and seemed to know the stuff as well as I did.

"You know, Brad, I'm wondering how Mrs. Graedon is going to react when you get an A on this summary test after getting D's on all the work

leading up to it? What's she going to think?"

Brad thought a moment. "You've got a point," he replied. "Teachers

are supposed to be happy when someone learns the material, but she

seems to get down on people if they don't get it right off, and then

never looks at them in a good way again, even if they improve. She

thinks there are smart people and dumb people and they never change.

Me improving is going to upset that theory, and she might not like that. I don't know how she'll react either."

I considered this, and the fact she was looking at us funny the other day, and that she'd had very sarcastic words for Brad the day she sent him to detention. It seemed to me she actively disliked him, maybe not as much as she did me, but there was no question she didn't like him. How would she respond to him when he suddenly showed such improvement? Would she think he cheated? Would she try to do anything about that?

"Brad, this might be something for us to think about a little. Remember how she's treated me all year for just pointing out a simple mistake she made? She can be vindictive. And she has more reason not to like you than just you disproving her feelings about no one improving in math. She has been watching us and I think she realizes now we're friends. She hates me. Really. And so, if she can get at you, she might do so knowing it would be another sneaky way to get at me."

"So what should we do?"

I thought a minute, mulling over an idea that had been brewing in my mind. "Well," I said eventually, "I can think of one thing. I think we should show your father how well you know this stuff. I think we should talk to my father. He's aware of the problems I've had with her, not all of them, but he knows there's a problem. If we discuss what we're thinking before there's any trouble, at least people will be more open to hearing our side of the story afterwards. They might believe us a little more."

Brad thought about that, and then agreed with me. "But how can I show my father I know this stuff?" he wondered out loud.

"Is he still home?" I asked. We went downstairs and found him cleaning the basement. When he had finished sweeping a section of the floor behind the furnace, I approached him. "Mr. Decker," I said, "can we speak with you a moment?"

"Sure, Danny. What's up?"

"Well, this will probably sound crazy, but we're worried that if Brad does really well on Monday's test, Mrs. Graedon might think, or even claim, he cheated. I know kids always think their teachers are out to get them, but she's, she's...well, you have to see her to realize how she is. Brad really knows this stuff now, and we'd like to show you so you know he's learned it. We don't want there to be any question, at least not in your mind."

"Sure, that sounds fine. I know Brad wouldn't cheat," he said, smiling

at Brad in a way that made Brad blush, "but I can see what you're trying to do. How do you want to do this?"

"I thought the best way would be for you to test him yourself. There are review questions at the end of every chapter in our book. There are also special questions that make us use what we've learned creatively to solve word problems. I thought you could pick out a question or two from every chapter and watch him do them in front of you."

Brad's father readily agreed with this and we went up to the kitchen.

Brad walked over to the breakfast table, I handed Brad's father the book, and we all sat down.

Even I was surprised at how well it went. After Brad quickly did a few

problems early in the book, his father began picking the more difficult looking ones in later chapters. Brad did these just as quickly and easily, and didn't miss any. His father looked very surprised at the end. "You really do know this! How have you learned it so fast when you didn't get it at all before?" he asked.

Before Brad could try to give me all the credit again, which I could see he was about to do, I jumped in. "He really applied himself. He worked hard. He's smart. Once he began working hard on it, it just came to him. He just got it."

Brad’s father looked somewhat skeptical that that was a complete answer, but was so happy with Brad, he didn't question it. "I don't think

you'll have any problems tomorrow," he told Brad, "but I'm glad we did

this anyway. And Danny, as much as you’re giving Brad all the credit, I think a lot of this is due to what you’ve done. Thanks for that, and if you need help with anything, please feel you can come to me."

I squirmed, but he just laughed, put his hand on my head for a second, then said he wanted to get back to the basement.

Brad smiled at me. "Danny, this was great. I'm really looking forward

to showing that bitch up tomorrow. This is going to be great."

I hoped it would be. Still, I knew Mrs. Graedon. I was worried.

--- --- {} --- ---

When I got home that night, my dad asked how things had gone. I told him we'd had a great time, and that I'd taken his advice and not been afraid to get to know Brad better.

"And how was it? You're still friends?" he asked.

"We're even closer than we were. I don't want to say much, it's embarrassing, but we slept in bed together, and I found out he likes me as much as I like him, and I couldn't be happier."

"Oh, Danny, I'm so pleased for you. You know you have to be careful, but I don't need to tell you that. Come here."

I walked over to him and he reached up. We hugged each other tightly for a while. Then, breaking my grip, I told him I had something else to talk to him about. I sat down, and we spoke for some time about Mrs. Graedon. It feels good, having someone you can talk to who listens and believes you and is supportive. I told him that I was afraid Mrs. Graedon would accuse us both of cheating. He took me seriously, and asked what I thought I could do about it. I wasn’t sure, and we kicked around some ideas. He came up with a couple of things, and even gave me some advice, and I paid attention to him. We talked for quite a while. He's smart.

Chapter 13

Brad was really looking forward to the test on Monday. I never liked going to that class, but wasn't worried about the test, only about Mrs. Graedon. When we were all in our seats and the bell had rung, she picked up a large stack of papers and began handing them out, with instructions to leave them face down till she gave permission to turn them over.

When everyone had a test, she said, "All right, this is going to count for half your grade. I'm going to be watching you all from the back of the room. Anyone caught looking at someone else’s paper, or cheating in any other way, will be stopped and not allowed to continue the test, and will suffer severe consequences. You have till the end of the class to finish. Put your name on the top of your paper. You may begin."

Everyone turned over the their test. I looked at mine, and it appeared to be pretty straightforward, more or less exactly what Brad and I had studied yesterday and previously. Good, I thought, Brad won't have a bit of trouble with this. I started in, and was more careful than usual not to make any silly mistakes. And write neatly. Screw her, I wasn’t giving her any chance to mark me off this time.

The test was six pages of problems. It was easy to tell how you were doing in comparison to the rest of the class by when you turned a page. Most of the class would end up turning one at about the same time, give or take a few minutes. A few turned very early, a few very late. It was pretty clear where you stood. I found I was getting done quite a bit faster than any of the others, even though I was being more careful than usual. Strange how easy math is when you know exactly how to do the problems, how difficult it is when you don't! I had no idea how Brad was doing because I sat across the room from him and I wasn't taking any chances by looking anywhere but at my paper.

I was almost through the last page and the class time was only a little over half gone when suddenly Mrs. Graedon interrupted us. "Brad, Danny, stop right now and bring me your papers," she blurted loudly, sounding very stern and imperious.

I stopped and turned around to look at her in confusion. She had a scowl on her face. I couldn't figure out what was wrong, but knew arguing wouldn't make any difference. I slowly stood up, turned around and walked back to her. I handed her my test. Brad did the same.

"Go back to your seats and sit down and be quiet," was the only explanation we got. We looked at each other blankly, then did as she said.

The time passed slowly, and one by one, the other kids began finishing their tests, then going back and checking various problems. When the bell rang, some still hadn't finished, but most had. Faces were generally looking stressed, not happy. I guessed most people had found the test difficult. Mrs. Graedon spoke to the class. "All right, bring your tests to the front, lay them face down on my desk and you are excused. Brad, Danny, remain where you are."

Quickly the room emptied, a few of the kids looking back at Brad and me as they left, curious expressions on their faces. Mrs. Graedon stared at us without speaking for a moment. We looked just as quietly back at her. I at least felt very nervous. I had no idea what Brad was feeling.

"OK," she said finally. She was holding our tests. She riffled through them, occasionally stopping and looking at one or two specific problems. She looked up, directly at me. "Who wants to tell me how you were able to do these so fast. Both of you. No one else in the class was more than getting started on page four when you both were half way through page 6. Danny, you were only two problems from the end. Problem number 14 on page 3 is very tricky and takes some time to get right, takes some thought, and you both just ran through it, and both of you got the right answer. It's almost as if you both had a copy of the test beforehand."

She glared at us. Brad looked at me and opened his mouth, but I quickly gave a very brief and small head shake and hard look, and he closed it. Neither of us said anything.

"Well, tell me. How were you able to do this so fast? Brad? I could

almost, well, maybe I could believe Danny could do this, but you? No. You don't know anything about algebra, and you're not smart enough to learn it. You should have been on page 2. And just scanning this, I don't see any incorrect answers. That isn't possible for you. What's going on?"

She kept looking back and forth at us. We were silent. This was getting uncomfortable. "Why aren't you answering? Tell me. You're going to sit here till someone tells me something," she stated angrily.

Again there was silence. Finally, I spoke. "Mrs. Graedon, are you accusing me, or Brad, or both of us, of cheating? Before I say anything at all, I want to know what's happening here."

If Mrs. Graedon looked angry before, she became furious when I asked that. I was hoping she'd get madder, too mad in fact to stay composed. Obviously, she'd wanted a confession from us and thought she could get it through simple intimidation, but now, here she was, being put on the spot by a couple of kids she didn't like.

"Yes, you're both cheaters, and you'll get kicked out of this school if you don't tell me right now how you did it. Tell me, and maybe the punishment won't be so bad."

"Mrs. Graedon," I replied evenly, "you've just insulted and slandered two students. We're both going to leave now. We're going to go talk to the principal. We're going to have him call our parents, and they're going to talk to him, too. I advise you not to let anything happen to those two tests you're holding. The entire class saw you take them, saw you had them. You might look at mine for a second. I did it in ball point pen. If you try changing anything, it will be obvious. Just so you know, we studied together, all last week and over the weekend, we both know the material, and neither of us cheated. Also, I talked to my father yesterday. He told me not to even talk to you if you accused us of cheating. I'm not going to say another word to you, and neither is Brad. Other people are going to get involved in this now."

I stood up, and Brad joined me. Mrs. Graedon stood at the front of the room, red faced and angry but uncertain what to do. She kept glaring at us. As she saw Brad smiling at me, a little hesitantly but smiling nevertheless, she suddenly got a new look on her face, one of suspicion and awakening insight. She then smiled, and it was an ugly, evil looking smile.

"You studied together over the weekend?" she asked pointedly. "I've noticed you two together in the last few days. Ever since detention. Brad, I see you reaching out, touching him. And always smiling. Both of you. There's a look in both your eyes. Danny, you never smiled before. Never. Now, you see Brad and you smile. And now you're spending the weekend with each other? Maybe the nights, too? What's going on with you two? I think something's funny here. Are you two boyfriends? Maybe I should tell your parents that. Hah! Are you sure you want to go see Mrs. Hodges? I think we have something else to talk about here. How many kids know you're fags? I know a couple kids that would love to tell people about that."

By now her nasty smile had completely erased the rage on her face. Her eyes were alive, and her thoughts seemed to be delighting her. I found it difficult to continue looking at her.

I turned my head from her and looked at Brad for a moment. "We're going to the office now," I said flatly, and Brad and I started for the door. She spoke louder then, and even took a step to get between us and the door. "You leave this room, you'll never live it down. I'll ruin you. The whole school will know about you two. You hear me?"

We stepped around her, went out into the corridor and walked to the office. The halls were empty as the next period had begun some minutes ago. Brad started to say something a couple of times and looked very nervous, but I just shushed him calmly. In the school office, I asked the secretary if we could speak with Mrs. Hodges. She said that was very irregular, we should be in class, and we needed to make an appointment to see the principal in any case.

"We just left Mrs. Graedon's class," I replied. "She just called us cheaters. We need to speak to Mrs. Hodges right now. Otherwise, I'm going to call my father. My father is best friends with the editor of the morning paper. If Mrs. Hodges sees anything about this in the paper and finds out we were trying to talk to her about it and you stopped us, I don't think she'll be very happy, do you?"

I had thought this out in advance. I knew the secretary wouldn't have the guts to take a chance that what I said wasn't true. She didn't.

She blinked a couple times, looking startled, then picked up her phone. A minute later, Mrs. Hodges stepped out of her office and invited us in.

Chapter 14

At 4 o'clock that afternoon, Mrs. Hodges, Mrs. Graedon, assistant principal John Thompson, Brad's father and mother, my father, Brad and I assembled in the conference room adjoining Mrs. Hodges office. When everyone had arrived, we all sat down around a long table. My father insisted that no one take notes of what was said.

I knew this was going to be difficult. I was still a shy, 13-year-old kid with little self-confidence. I was going to be confronting the principal and Mrs. Graedon. Brad's father was there, and my father, but I knew that ultimately, what happened, good or bad, was going to be on my shoulders. The only reason I was able to retain any degree of self-composure was that if I wasn't able to stand up to Mrs. Graedon, Brad was going to be hurt. I had to keep that from happening. I had to protect his reputation. If he was in trouble, it was because of me. That thought kept running through my mind. I knew I had to be stronger than I ever had been able to be, and I was scared. I didn't know if I had it in me to fight this battle. My father, in his wheelchair sitting by my side, was a source of strength. I was going to need every bit of it.

Mrs. Hodges started speaking. "I have heard from these two boys that

Mrs. Graedon said they cheated on a math test that was given today. I

have spoken with Mrs. Graedon and she claims she did not say that, that she merely held the boys over because she wanted to find out how they were able to finish so much faster than the rest of the class. Brad, Danny, which of you would like to speak?"

We looked at each other. Brad was normally a much more assertive, more confident person than I was, much more comfortable speaking to adults, but he was also looking more intimidated in this situation than I was. I was upset with Mrs. Graedon and the unfairness of what was happening, and I knew a lot rode on what happened here, so I knew I had to speak, whether I was comfortable or not.

"Mrs. Hodges, Brad and I studied for the past week and on the weekend. We both knew the math cold. We both were able to do the test quickly because we had studied. There wasn’t a single problem on the test we didn’t know exactly how to do. Mr. Decker even helped us study, and saw how well Brad knew the material. Mrs. Graedon told us to stop working before we were through, and when everyone else was gone, said we'd cheated. She was sure we were cheating, that's why she stopped us. Why wouldn't she let us finish the test otherwise? Stopping us meant we couldn't finish. It might mean we'd fail the test if many of our answers were wrong. The only reason she could have possibly have had for stopping us was she thought we were cheating. She said we were cheating to our faces after we were alone with her, but her stopping us proves she thought we were cheating. So she stopped us for cheating, and if she was sure that’s what we were doing, why is it hard to believe she said it? Both Brad and I heard her say it, and we’re telling the truth."

Mrs. Graedon quickly jumped in. "No, Danny, you know I didn't say that. I just said I wanted to know how you were able to work so fast."

Brad was listening to this, and he seemed less intimidated now. When

Mrs. Graedon said that, when he heard her lie, his mouth actually fell open. "Mrs. Graedon, you not only said we cheated, you also said I wasn't smart enough to be able to do the test, and that I was dumb at math. Did you grade my test? How many did I get right?"

Everyone looked at Mrs. Graedon. Her face got a little redder. She

didn't answer, and the silence in the room stretched out. My father

broke into this silence by quietly asking, "How did they do? It would

be interesting to know that."

Mrs. Hodges looked at Mrs. Graedon expectantly, raising her eyebrows.

Mrs. Graedon grumpily admitted, "They both got every answer correct." Then, looking up, she said, "And that backs up the possibility that they might have cheated, not that I said they did, mind you. But a teacher has to consider that when things look even a little bit suspicious. I was just doing what any responsible teacher would do."

Mr. Decker spoke at that point. "Well, I don't agree with that. I actually think getting every problem right shows they weren't cheating. When I was in a fraternity at college, we had files of old tests given over the years in a lot of classes taught there. Frat brothers would study these. I remember distinctly being told that, if we ever got a test that hadn't been changed, one that was the exact one we'd actually studied from, a test a professor had recycled, that we had to be sure we didn't get every problem right. To look less suspicious, we needed to miss a problem here and there, just a few, but some. The fact the boys didn't miss a single problem either means they were too dumb to cheat well, or they knew the work, knew how to get the right answers, and playing any sort of game wasn't even in their minds. When I worked with Brad last night, it was obvious. He knew his stuff. I'm positive he didn't cheat. He didn't have to."

Mrs. Graedon again immediately said, "And I didn't say they did cheat."

My father spoke again. "So what mark are they going to get on the test? I have to assume, if they did everything right, and you stopped them from finishing, both of them have to get A's. Is that right?"

Mrs. Graedon didn't look happy, but with seven faces looking intently at her, she had to speak. "Yes, they'll both get A's."

"And that's half their grade?" pressured my father.

"Yes." Mrs. Graedon wasn't happy, and in fact looked frustrated. She

wasn't very good at disguising her emotions.

There was silence in the room. Mrs. Hodges looked around, and finally said, "Well, is that all we have then? The boys will get A's for the test. There may be a misunderstanding about calling the boys cheaters, but that's behind us and there's no way to know for sure what was said. Can we just all agree this was unfortunate and hope things go smoothly from now on?"

Everyone looked at everyone else. It appeared to me that everyone might take Mrs. Hodges' suggestion. I could only see that as a disaster waiting to happen. If Mrs. Graedon was unhappy enough earlier in the year, when I merely pointed out an error she made on the board, to hold a grudge against me all year and try to sabotage my grade, just how vindictive would she be now, and what would she do? She certainly had some ammunition, and had already threatened to tell the school we were gay. The problem was, it wasn't just me she could hurt now, it was Brad, too. And Mrs. Graedon was not one to hold back.

I had to do something. I didn't want to because I didn't know how everyone would react. But it seemed a real possibility that if I didn't do something, things could be much worst than if I did.

I stood up. I was too nervous and fidgety to remain seated. I didn't want to begin, but knew I had to. You're doing this for Brad, I kept telling myself. And in fact I was; I doubted I'd be saying anything if I were the only one involved.

"Mrs. Hodges," I said, "could I ask a question?" You said since Mrs.

Graedon says she didn't call us cheats, that that ends the matter. I

want to know, what if she did? What if she said we cheated? If she calls a student a cheater and he didn't cheat, what happens?" I remained standing, looking at her.

Mrs. Hodges glanced at Mr. Thompson, looked back at me and asked, "Why do you want to know?" Which of course made it harder. "I didn't cheat," I stated. "Brad didn't cheat. A teacher said we did. It will get all over the school that she called us cheaters. I know what the penalty is if a student cheats, it's in the student handbook. I don't know what the penalty is if a teacher accuses a student of cheating when in fact he didn't. I want to know."

Mrs. Hodges looked a little pissed and was about to reply when Mr. Decker broke in first. "I think that's a fair question, and I too would like an answer. I would hope we can keep lawyers out of this, I would like to think the school would want that, too, but it doesn't seem fair if there are double standards. If a student accuses a teacher of something that isn't true, he'll get suspended, or worse. Does it work both ways?"

There was a glance between Mrs. Hodges and Mr. Thompson again. This time Mr. Thompson replied. "This is a hypothetical case because there is no proof of what Mrs. Graedon did or didn't say and we'll never know for sure, but, as a general rule, a teacher making unfounded remarks deleterious to a student or his character will be punished commensurate with the offense. In this case, were the charge true, a suspension or worse would be warranted."

I had remained standing. I gulped, and plowed forward. This was awful, and I was having trouble breathing, but I went on nevertheless. "There's more to it. Not only did Mrs. Graedon call us cheats, she called us even worse. Mrs. Graedon has been after me all year. She's graded me down on homework and tests for minor things she lets other students get away with. I have the papers to prove it. Mrs. Decker told me that was wrong, that a teacher isn't supposed to do that. Today she made us stop taking the test in front of the whole class, implying to them we were cheating. Why else would she make us stop? That'll be all over the school. When everyone had left, she said we cheated. When we said we were going to go talk to you about this, she got angry and said something even worse. She called us fags. Then she said if we went to talk to you, she'd spread that all over the school."

The room was so quiet it could have been empty. Everyone's face showed shock. Then Mrs. Graedon jumped up. "He's lying. He's been an awful brat in class all year, he's insulted me, and now he's lying in front of all you. He should be kicked out of school. I don't have to listen to this. I've been teaching here for 22 years. I want him out of here today. Out! Permanently."

Mrs. Hodges looked at her, then back to me. I'd stopped fidgeting and was looking at her. "Those are very serious charges, Danny. Brad, did

she say that?"

Brad looked her in the eye and said, "Yes, she did." Brad's father looked at him, then at Mrs. Graedon with a look of hostility that made me glad it wasn't focused on me. She looked back at him defiantly.

Mrs. Hodges was on the hot seat. You could see she wasn't sure what to do. Mr. Thompson was looking at the wall, obviously appreciating the fact the meeting was not his responsibility. Finally, Mrs. Hodges said what I'd expected her to say. "Boys, that's a very serious charge. If it can't be proved, there might even be actions taken against you, serious actions. And, without any proof, we have to take the word of a long term teacher against the unsubstantiated claims of two students, one of whom is barely getting a D in the course. I'm very sorry, but that's my decision."

Mr. Decker and my father and Mrs. Graedon all started to talk, but Mrs. Graedon's piercing voice broke through. "I'm going to sue him for slander. I never said that. He's slandering me. He accused me in front of witnesses. I'm getting a lawyer."

No one responded. My father looked shaken. We didn't have the money to battle a lawsuit. Mr. Decker looked confused. He didn't know what to say, or how everything had gotten so out of hand so quickly. While everyone was quiet, I reached into my pocket and pulled it out with something in my hand. I walked over to Mrs. Hodges and laid it in front of her.

"This is a tape recorder I brought to school today. Sometimes I use it

instead of taking notes. Today, I just happened to have it with me. I turned it on when the tests were being passed out. You told me what her punishment would be if she called us cheats and lied to you. You can listen to her say those things, and the other worse thing. Also, her threat to spread the last thing around the school. Please don't let her do that." And then I pressed the play button. I'd already rewound the tape to where I wanted it to start. There was an audible hiss in the room, follow by what was unmistakably Mrs. Graedon's shrill voice, tinny sounding through the small speaker but clear and easily understood, saying "Brad, Danny, stop right now and bring me your papers." The tape played through to a silent audience.

When it finished with the sound of Mrs. Graedon saying she'd ruin us,

there was a gasp from the people in the room. After a second, my father jumped in, and he wasn't speaking softly this time. There was a hard edge to his voice and a resolve I hadn't heard from him before. "Mrs. Hodges, if she's allowed to make her allegations against these boys so they are known in the school, if that comes out, you'll have such a big lawsuit on your hands you'll wish you never considered education as a profession. I will also sue you personally."

Everyone was looking at Mrs. Hodges. Everyone but me. I was looking

at Mrs. Graedon. Her face had turned white. She was sitting in her chair, and her shoulders had slumped. Looking at her, I couldn't help myself. "Mrs. Hodges," I said, not nervous at all at this point, "Why don't you ask Mrs. Graedon if she has any more lies to tell us?"

Chapter 15

The meeting had effectively ended at that point. I'd stopped the tape.

Everyone had looked at Mrs. Graedon and from her appearance she was thoroughly defeated. Mrs. Hodges had asked her if she had any comment and she'd just sat there, slumped in her chair, chalky looking. Then Mrs. Hodges had asked the rest of us if we could leave and she'd notify everyone of what was going to be the outcome of this situation. My father had asked if we were both to come to school tomorrow, and Mrs. Hodges nodded, and then realizing my father couldn't see that, said, "Yes." It was apparent to me she now absolutely believed us, and a wave of relief washed over me. As we were standing up to leave, Mr. Thompson spoke up. "Danny," he asked, "just why did you have a tape recorder, and why were you recording?"

I looked at him, and a clearly beaten Mrs. Graedon. "I talked to my

father last night. He said if it came down to her word against ours, people tend to believe the adult. He suggested the tape recorder."

Mr. Thompson didn't appear to know what to say, and so said nothing.

The meeting was done. At least one hard part was over.

After Mr. and Mrs. Decker and my father left the office, Mr. Decker pushing my father's wheelchair, they stopped in the corridor to talk. I pulled Brad away, and we went out the front door and walked out onto the lawn. Brad looked at me.

"Danny, we did it—well, you did it, actually—but, well, what's my father going to say? She told him we are gay."

"I don't know. I know one thing, though. I was looking at him when you stood up to her and agreed that she'd called us fags. He looked mad, but not about you. He was glaring at her. I'm sure he was mad at her for saying that. I don't think he believes that for a minute about you. What he'd feel or say or do if he found out you were gay, I don't know, you'd know better than I, but I don't think he's even considering that. Besides, I've seen you two together. He loves you totally. Both your parents do. If it's real love, and it sure looks like it to me, then whatever their feelings, you'll find a way to get together on this. And you know what? I don't think you can put that label on us anyway. Maybe we are gay, but I don't know and you don't know and I don't think we will know for a few years yet. You said you don't like boys, only me. I don't think that makes you gay. But you like me and, hey, that's fine with me. Better than fine. I like you, too, you know. A lot!"

Brad smiled that smile of his at me and simply said, "Thanks." I grinned back at him. He poked me in the shoulder. Mrs. Graedon was right about something at least. He did seem to like to touch me.

Our folks came outside eventually and they drove my father and me home. The discussion in the car was one of support for us, and especially for me and what I'd gone through dealing with Mrs. Graedon all year. Brad hadn't felt her barbs the way I had; it'd only been recently she'd started after him. Nothing at all was said about what she'd accused us of, for which I was thankful. I don't know how I would have responded.

When we got home, I got out and got my father into his chair and pushed him to the house. We were both inside when Brad yelled at me to hold on a second, then spoke briefly to his parents. Then he got out and ran over to me. I stepped back outside to talk to him.

"I just asked. My parents say it's okay if I come over after school tomorrow. If I can, I'll come a lot. I want to spend the time with you, and I can help you with all you have to do. Please let me, Danny." He looked at me with his deep eyes, his feelings apparent. "If I can, I'll even spend the night tomorrow, and other times, too."

The idea of that made me tingle. All over. "It's a school night. You're

parents are all right with that?"

"They think you walk on water. They think spending time with you will mean I'll get all A's. I'll bring my books over. We'll do homework, we'll fix dinner, hell, we'll paint the garage if that's what's needed. Okay?"

I felt giddy. How could such a boy like me so much? "Of course it's okay. It's even better than that. It's perfect."

So that's what happened. He came over the next afternoon, and the

one after that. He started spending the night three or four times a week.

He told me his parents never said anything about Mrs. Graedon's accusation. They simply didn't mention it.

I wish the same had happened at school, but as we both feared, rumors started. I even think it might have been from Mrs. Graedon. I think she called someone at school, or sent an anonymous email, or something, because fairly soon rumors began flying around that Brad and I were gay, were boyfriends, even that we were "doing it." Mrs. Hodges had probably believed my father's threat because Mrs. Graedon never set foot in the school again as far as we ever knew, but her threat that she'd out us seemed to be coming true. At a middle school, gossip is like a contagious virus that rampages through a school. It only took about a day after the rumors had begun before everyone in the place seemed to have heard them. This was the second hard part I knew we'd have to face.

We thought the world would fall in on us when the entire school caught on to our relationship, when everyone thought we were gay or suspected it or just wondered about it. We thought we'd be picked on, ostracized, beaten up, laughed at, rejected—well, everything you could imagine that could happen to young teens thought to be gay who'd been outed at school. We had discussed it beforehand and had dreaded it and weren't sure how we would react when we were faced with it, but you know what? In the end, nothing happened!

Brad was the most popular kid in school and with his winning, outgoing personality and cool demeanor, everyone liked and admired him and it was impossible, I guess, for everyone to just start hating him, especially because he didn't act any differently. Being who he was, they had a hard time believing something like this. He was still the friendly, self-confident, sociable kid he'd always been, and people still responded to him when he said hello, kidded with them, went out of his way to make them feel good about themselves. He made people feel important just by taking the time to talk to them. When he walked away from someone after stopping to chat, that person always had a smile on his face. Brad was a celebrity in that school, and rumors that most people didn't know whether to believe or not weren't going to change that.

As for me, well, I remained somewhat awkward and shy, but wasn't

quite as reclusive as before. Being forced by circumstances to stand up for Brad at that meeting and being successful doing so had boosted my confidence a little. Brad told me everyone had always liked me, many kids saw what I did for everyone, being helpful and supportive and all, and they wanted to be my friend, wanted to help me if I needed help. Now, even with the rumors, when I opened up a little more and didn't push people away, most everyone was friendly in return. They showed me friendliness and kindness and I couldn't help but smile and respond to their actions.

So we survived Mrs. Graedon, and we were even able to retain our

relationship with each other. Brad keeps coming over to my house, much more than I go to his because we are more needed at my house than his. He helps me with the things I have to do, making my load lighter, and we study together, which he says, but I refute, is the cause of his grades soaring. I tell him it is because he has more confidence in his abilities, it has nothing to do with me. He says, who cares? And he's probably right about that. Anyway, things have returned to normal, we're still together, and that's about as good as anything I could hope for. Being able to sleep together three or four times a week also means we're getting to know each other a lot better, too, and that's really, really good. For both of us. We aren’t going fast or slow; we’re going about learning what we’re learning at the pace we both want to go, and it's absolutely great. We feel we have all the time in the world.

Next year? High school? What's going to happen? Who knows? But I

do know this, my life has turned a corner, I'm happy, and whatever comes now, I can deal with it. Having Brad's help is like frosting on the cake.

The End