- DISCLAIMER - The following story, novel, or chapter contains homosexual themes and is not intended for anyone under the legal viewing age - If depictions of homosexual activities disturb you - Do Not Continue To Read This Story - Feedback appreciated Copyright - 2005 - Max Williams (Kollegekid54321@hotmail.com) ****************************************************** Chapter 11
Jason sped most unpleasantly down Montgomery Ave. This particular Monday morning, the main street of Capetown was covered in leaves and branches, trash and puddles from the intense rains that had been hitting the town hard all weekend. The entire village of tightly woven, well treed, old-growth suburbs squeezed between Montgomery Ave and the waterfront of Lake Erie was remarking about the odd weather for so late in spring, and the beautiful, walk-able quality that the streets had, had been scared away by the torrential weather and eerily low hanging clouds.
That morning Jason had run into several of his neighbors - the three giggly blonde sisters had been running down the street, holding aloft newspapers to protect them from the violent gusts of wind. Old Mrs. Cremshaw next door had completely taken to her house, muttering about the old days, and Jason's parents were particularly irritable about having to leave for work in such weather, and especially about letting Jason have one car to travel to school with and making them split the other car between Phil's factory and Pam's office.
Coupled with the sinking feeling in his chest at the prospect of having to explain himself about the party on Saturday night, Jason was finding it harder and harder to erect a smile to hide behind, as well as finding it more and more likely that any such smile would have been inappropriate anyway. He watched the dull, grey scenery flit by on both sides of the car as he sped along the road, going nervously fast. He reminded himself how much he didn't want to arrive at his destination, and slowed considerably.
He was getting into the city now, and starting to pass more and more traffic as the road widened into four lanes and became less of a quaint main street and more of a city thoroughfare. After a couple more minutes he was even aware of a carpool to his left full of other Cape City High kids whom he vaguely knew, but no one that had been at the party, and no one he really talked to. Regardless, he still couldn't bring himself to look over at them somehow.
The thick traffic stopped at a red light, and Jason nervously flicked on the radio. He needed to get his mind off the situation at hand but there was nothing on but weather (supposed to rain all week), traffic (backed up all along Montgomery Ave at the Cape City line), and news (two state troopers found murdered in a rural cemetery in the rust belt), none of which helped to ease his mind.
Inconspicuous, he finally decided. I'll be totally inconspicuous. Stay low - spend breaks in the bathroom and lunch in the gym - no - that'll look fruity. I'll go for a drive at lunch. Stay low - don't talk to anyone - except Meghan - till this blows over. Stay low - don't talk. Stay low - don't talk. It wasn't a great plan, Jason decided, but it kept him out of humiliation's way for the day at least, which was all he could ask for. The great, tall, athletic boy was quiet at heart; gentle and non confrontational, and it killed him to think he might be called out on such a humiliating thing in front of all his friends. He'd never be able to do that to anyone else. It was unfair. So stay low, he told himself again with a sigh, and. Don't. Talk. You fucking idiot.
Fredo was waiting for Jason the second he got to school. Fredo had sped to his locker, coat off, books collected, bathroom, peed, washed his hands, gotten out the book, found the page, and sped back to the fourth floor landing on the parking lot side of the large art deco high school. That particular stairwell had been added in the 1960's to the rear of the building, when they'd put in the parking lot, and Fredo had a wide plate glass window overlooking every car that came and went. Few people had any reason to be at the rear of the fourth floor so he was cocksure as he opened his book and rested it on the black metal railing in front of the window, tracing his finger down the ancient writing and even mouthing some of the words.
Fredo's dark face and eyes were pale and bloodshot and it was obvious he hadn't gotten any sleep. His clothes were the same he'd worn on Friday, and clearly unwashed since then, and his sneakers were caked in mud and still slightly wet, as was the mysterious book he was nervously clutching. Come on, come on, he angrily thought. I've watched for you before, you're always here by now! Fredo's mind flitted for a second to how different things were going to be from now on once Jason did arrive, and it suddenly made him lightheaded and happy. It also got him a little hard, and he happily pushed his member down a little as he scanned the parking lot again looking for that familiar old sedan.
Finally, the right car buzzed into sight from behind the left wing of the school, the school's front, and slowed as it came to the driveway and the turning signal started dully flashing. Fredo started, and then adjusted himself at the window. He repositioned the book and mouthed the words again as he watched the small car pull in and resolutely take the farthest spot in the farthest corner of the parking lot. And then he watched, awed, as Jason got out of the car, slowly opened the trunk for his bookbag and duffel bag, and then, even more slowly, began the long walk to the nearest entrance door at the base of the rear stairwell, four floors immediately below Fredo.
He's trying to stay low, Fredo guessed. Whatever - time for work. Fredo felt lightheaded again as he concentrated on the words in the book and was vaguely aware of getting harder and started rubbing it. Somewhere behind him someone finally had a need to use the stairway and he thought he heard a girl scoff, or exclaim, or something, but the bitch went downstairs and he was alone again.
The page that Fredo was looking at was very old, and very worn, and still fairly wet, but despite it's age and rather delicate condition it was in one piece with no torn corners and only very slightly yellowed, and none of the ink had run. Fredo silently read the messy scrawled writing and traced the index finger of his free hand over the crazy jet black lettering. He concentrated on the book, and then concentrated on Jason. Something was building. With every word that Fredo read he could feel a tension growing in his head and his hand, and a dull ache behind his eyes. He grew instantly hard as he realized this and stopped rubbing himself immediately - he had no fucking idea what the fuck was going on. He stopped reading for a moment and looked up and out the window. The tension was still present but it ebbed slightly . . . until Fredo looked back and read another sentence. It grew again. He forced himself to read another sentence. The dull ache behind his eyes was about the same but his head was now so tense it was affecting his ability to read and he could only go word by word. He looked up again. Jason was obviously walking very slowly, head down now as he strode ever closer to the high school. Jason stopped altogether and tied his shoe, and then started again his death march.
Good, Fredo thought, he's giving me enough time to do this. Fredo went back to reading the words, slowly . . . slowly. Two lines left, he realized. As he waded through the remaining text it occurred to him that he felt as though he was being charged up, like a battery. And the more he forced himself through, the more tension built inside of him until he could barely stand it. One more line . . . half a line . . . He was getting closer and closer, and his head was a knot and his eyes ached, and he felt more and more like he would burst at any minute, or at least faint, or collapse, or die, or something . . . until he read the final word, and then looked up. This time, instead of ebbing away, the tension stayed in his head with a satisfying stolidity, fueling the ache behind his eyes, but suddenly, those symptoms felt less like random annoyances and throbs and more like a laser poised for attack.
He looked out the window again and was suddenly hit with the fact that he could see inimitable distances away, and with those new eagle's eyes looked directly down at Jason and though he was still four flights away, Fredo could suddenly pick out every hair on his head, every pore on his skin, and noticed the odd way that his tan had ebbed in two day's time. Fredo concentrated on Jason, on the whole being down there, praying, struggling, and stressing to release the ball of wild energy building in his head. Something wasn't right though. Something wasn't working. Fredo couldn't tell what was up, but nothing was going anywhere, nothing was moving . . . not that he knew how this was supposed to work, but all the same nothing was happening and that wasn't the fucking point.
It suddenly struck him. Fredo looked down again, straight down at the shiny brown op of Jason's head, because he was almost at the doors to the first flight of stairs. Jason was taking a couple seconds to square his shoulders and take a deep breath, and Fredo used that to his advantage. Look up, Fredo thought. Almost instantly, so instantly that it nearly startled Fredo out of his concentration, Jason looked up. And in that moment, their eyes met and Fredo concentrated again and suddenly felt that which he didn't know to look for, but recognized once it happened.
There was a slackening in his head. The tension immediately relaxed, and in such a way that Fredo wasn't entirely sure it didn't have something to do with the way his eagle's eyes were suddenly riveted on Jason's, and the way that he felt his eyes tense, dilate, and open to twice their normal size. There may have even been a slightly wavy quality to the air for a second between the two young men . . . but then again, maybe it was a trick of the light. And then Fredo's eyes returned to normal, and after a few blinks Fredo found that he was looking down, normally, at Jason, four flights below, as blurrily as he ever would have. There wasn't one pain in his head, or one ache behind his eyes; his cock was totally soft and he felt fine overall, in fact, better than he did before and he forgot he hadn't had any sleep.
Jason looked puzzled, way down there. Fredo, shaking off what just happened and becoming excited at what he thought he'd just accomplished, hazarded a small wave at Jason. After a moment, Jason apparently registered what Fredo was doing, because he flipped him the finger and entered the school.
Fredo was awestruck. What?! He began flipping violently through the book, checking and double-checking the page he was on.