Chapter 6

Friday the 13th, as I was walking to sixth-period English, I had to fend off Rick and Ron -- "the geek brothers" as I'd started to call them. We'd had a few more sessions in their bedroom over the last few weeks, but I began to realize I really didn't like the guys all that much. Heck, they spent more time screwing around with each other than they did with me. I almost felt like I was intruding on their little games. Even worse, I felt like I was still the freak on display, which made me really self-conscious. And even though I felt kind of ashamed to admit it, Rick and Ron just weren't... well, all that attractive. Hell, they were downright goofy-looking! Every time I did it with them, once it was over with, I felt kind of ashamed.

As I trudged through the halls, I thought of Sky, and the two or three times we had fooled around together. I never felt embarrassed with him. When I was with Sky, it all seemed... I dunno -- exciting, yet at the same time, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I mean, I had known the guy for what, six years? I began to feel that familiar pain in my chest again, then I shook my head. I'm not a homo, I thought. I'm just going through a phase. That's what all the books said.

Sky was right: maybe I should try to date some girls. Fat chance I had at actually getting laid, but at least maybe I could go out and have some fun. Shit, I was a jock, right? Well, almost a jock. Even if I was the lowest guy in the line-up, and I'd yet to even compete in a single meet, I still technically had a monogrammed team letter. Just like Sky.

When I finally got to class, Sky was already laughing with a couple of the football jocks at the front of the room. We sat down almost at the same time, and just as I turned to bring my notebook up from under my desk, someone on my left playfully punched my arm.

"Hey, stud! Look at the new letter-man!"

I looked over to see Sky grinning at me, with the same carefree smile I'd known practically all my life. It'd been awhile since I'd seen him do that. God. Does this guy have perfect teeth, or what? I mentally slapped myself awake and looked down at my new sweater, which I'd gotten the day before.

"Yeah. We all just got them on the swim team. Pretty cool, eh?" I said, trying to be as macho as I could.

"Still, it's not as cool as a varsity football letter," he said, smugly, "...but it's not bad."

I looked closer at the insignia on his jacket. "Shit, Sky!" I whispered. "You made it to varsity!"

He beamed ear-to-ear and nodded proudly. "Yeah. Bobby Carlson broke his leg over the weekend, so they bumped me up to varsity from JV. There's only three 9th graders on the whole team, and I'm one of 'em."

"Congratulations, man!" I said, sincerely. "Man, I hope those guys don't kick your ass too hard."

He grinned. "I'm only the center, so I just have to be hand the ball off and do a little blocking. It's the quarterback that does all the work. As soon as I get rid of the football, I'm out of danger."

I thought for a second. "Wait a minute -- isn't Scott Michaels the new quarterback?" I asked, making a face.

Sky nodded. "Yeah. I know, he can be an asshole, sometimes, but he's really a great player. With Carlson out, I think Coach is gonna make Scott team captain, too."

I shook my head and grimaced. You'd better watch your balls during the game when Scott reaches behind you, I thought.

"Oh, I forgot," he said, seeing the look on my face. "You got a thing against Michaels, from that thing that happened in gym. Look, just stay out of his way. I'll tell him you're cool."

Yeah, I thought. Cool like Scott's friends Rick and Ronnie.

"Don't go out of your way, man," I said. "I can take care of myself."

He punched me in the shoulder again. "Anything you say, Mr. Jock-man!" he said, laughing.

I grinned back at him. It was almost like being with the old Sky again. God, I'd almost forgotten what it was like.

The class went by quickly, and so did Phys Ed. I felt sure it was going to rain -- typical December weather for Florida -- but all it did instead was look gray and overcast. After we'd run around the track for about the 18th time, Coach Lucas finally blew his whistle. My group half-walked, half stumbled the last quarter-mile back to the boys' locker room building, puffing and wheezing most of the way. Ronnie caught up with me just as we entered the doorway.

"Hey, Wil," he wheezed. "My mom has to go to some stupid office party tonight. You wanna come by for... you know, a barbecue or pool or somethin'?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

I sighed. "Not tonight, Ronnie," I said. "I finally convinced my folks to let me use the weights in the varsity workout room. I won't get out of here until at least 5:00 or 5:30."

His face fell, like somebody had just cancelled Christmas or something. "Gee, Wil. You haven't come by to see me and Rick in like two weeks," he said, shyly.

I looked in both directions, then brought my voice down to a whisper. "Look, Ron, you know I like you and Rick and all..."

He nodded, but had a disappointed look in his eyes.

"...but I got all these responsibilities and stuff, being on the swim team," I continued. "Coach says I've gotta, you know, bulk up. I really need to get bigger muscles, you know?"

"I think you've already got a lotta muscles, Wil," he said, admiringly.

"But not enough to win, Ronnie," I said, exasperated. "You don't understand -- I'm like the shrimpiest guy on the team! I've gotta get bigger so I can beat these guys. Coach says I can do it -- I've just got to get stronger!"

The red-haired geek nodded. Actually, I thought, in this light, Ron almost looked kind of cute in a strange way. What was I saying? I shook my head to try to lose the mental image of him and his brother naked.

"OK," he said, finally accepting defeat. "Just don't turn into one of those giant muscle-bound guys, Wil. You know, like Willie Armitage on the IM Force." Ron looked at me forlornly with his piercing green eyes. Why had I never noticed those before?

"Who?" I asked, as he walked down the hall to the locker room.

"You know, dummy!" he yelled from a distance, exasperated. "Peter Lupus on 'Mission: Impossible,'" he said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "Not a chance, Ronnie," I grinned, as I walked over to the weight-room door and pushed it open. "I'll be lucky if I can just add 10 pounds of muscle!" I yelled.

Or turn into a Greek god like Sky. There he was on the bench in front of me, stripped to the waist with four of the other football jocks. I felt a twinge as I saw his tanned chest sweat and strain under the weight.

"...eight... nine... ten! " counted off one of the players. "Incredible, Jones! That's ten reps of 155! Un-fuckin'-believable!"

Sky let the huge bar fall with a clang on the top of the bench posts. He sat up and panted, while half the gym applauded. Sky stood up and took several victory bows.

I stopped dead in my tracks and stared. Holy shit! Sky had really put on some muscle over the last few months. My friend had always been athletic, but now he looked like he was turning into Superboy or something! His arms bulged with all kinds of little veins and ripples I'd never seen before. His chest looked totally pumped up, and he had a deep vertical line that went all the way from the top of his chest down to his muscular stomach. His nipples had a light dusting of hairs, and a little inverted V-shaped tuft of blond curls trailed down tantalizingly from his belly-button into his shorts. When he saw me gawking in front of him, he grinned.

"Shit!" he said, laughing. "They'll let anybody in this place!"

"Who's the shrimp?" said one jock, a Cuban guy who'd been assisting Sky with the weights.

"Lay off, man," Sky said, defensively, as he got up and put his arm around my shoulder. "This 'shrimp' just so happens to be a good friend of mine. Gentlemen, let me introduce to you Tampa Central's premiere Butterfly-stroke king, Mr. William Larson. He's on the varsity swim team."

"Call me Wil," I grinned. "With one 'L.'"

I shook hands with three of the players, but the big Hispanic guy just stared at me.

"Hey -- wait a minute!," he said, as a wave of recognition hit his face. "You're that kid... Donkey Boy, right? Man, this guy's got a cock on him... madre de dios!" He held his hands about a foot apart and whooped like a hyena. Several other onlookers turned to see what he was laughing about.

"Can it, Rodriquez!" snapped Sky, angrily. "I bet he fucks your mother with that big dick!"

"I doubt it," said one of the others. "Enrique has a baby dick! No way this guy over here could be the father!" he said, pointing in my direction. We all laughed, except for Rodriquez, who turned bright red.

"Hey, shut up, you guys!" he yelled. "That ain't funny!"

I grinned at him and shook my head. "I swear, Enrique," I said, as evenly as I could, "I've never even met your mother." I held my hand out as a gesture of peace.

The brown-skinned teen reluctantly took my hand and made a half-hearted attempt to smile, but the other guys just laughed again and slapped Sky on the back.

"No disrespect, man," I said to him, sincerely. He nodded, finally giving me a firm handshake.

Sky's teammates started walking towards the door. "We'll catch ya later, man. We're gonna hit the showers."

"OK. Later, guys! Thanks for helpin' me," called Sky, as they left the room. "So," he said to me, eying my small frame, "I hear you wanna learn how to build strong bodies 12 ways."

"I'll settle for just one," I replied, grinning. I looked around the room at the rows of gleaming chrome steel bars, racks of huge black weights stacked against the far wall, and a dozen dangerous-looking machines arranged in the center of the room. A half-dozen stationary bicycles were next to us, and full-length mirrors surrounded the room on three sides, making the place look twice as big as it really was.

"Jesus!" I said, amazed. "I had no idea the school had such a huge workout room!"

"The best in the state," said Sky, proudly. "Doug Wheeler's dad is the regional rep for the Universal Fitness Company, and he got 'em to donate most of this gear for free. I bet there's some colleges that don't have this much equipment!"

The workout gear looked cool, but also very intimidating. "How do you work all this stuff, Sky?" I asked, with some trepidation. "It looks real complicated. And dangerous," I added.

"Naw, it's easy," he said, reassuringly. "Just follow the rules, and you can't hurt yourself. Look at these charts up here." He walked me over to one wall, and I saw a bunch of colored diagrams and outlines of the human body. "These'll show you how to warm-up, how to stretch, and how to hold the weights for proper form."

"Will you... would you mind showing me?" I asked.

Sky thought for a moment. "Well, I sorta promised Melissa I'd walk her home from school."

My face must've reacted, because he gave me a curious look.

"Or... oh, fuck it," he said, finally. "I could just see her later on tonight. Lemme get a message to her, and I'll come back and show ya the ropes."

I grinned. "Thanks, Sky. I'd really appreciate it."

"Hey, man, what're best friends for?" he replied, giving me his million-dollar smile.

Sky's workout routine was intense. He started me on biceps, which hurt like hell. The weights I was using were little puny 10-pounders, but he reassured me, everybody always started out small. Next up was shoulders, then triceps, then chest.

"Chest is my favorite," said Sky, moving me into position on the bench. "Officially, this is the 'Pectoral Muscle Group,'" he said, putting his hands on my chest. "We call 'em 'Pecs' for short."

I felt my heart flutter momentarily at the touch of his hands, but tried to concentrate on his instructions.

"You'll need good pecs for swimming, for sure," he continued.

"Wouldn't this be safer on the machines?" I asked, timidly. The weights on the bench were about the size of trashcan lids.

"Machines are for pussies, Wil," he said, confidently. "You ever see any of those really huge guys in the magazines?"

I nodded.

"Trust me," he said, replacing the big plates with smaller ones. "None of those guys got big pullin' cables or pushin' levers," he explained. "Those guys pump iron -- the real deal, none of this candy-ass stuff."

I lay back on the bench and looked up at him. Sky's gold chain still dangled around his neck, nestled in the deep groove between his pecs.

"Don't worry," he reassured me. "I'll start you off real light, then you can work your way up over the next few weeks. I bet by next summer, you'll be able to do 155, like I just did today for the first time!"

I gulped. "But Sky," I protested, "I'm not trying to turn into some kind of monster! I just want to get bigger. Not huge, y' know?"

Sky grinned and got close to my ear. "I say you're already huge," he whispered, tugging playfully at my shorts.

I laughed. From him, it sounded like a compliment, not an insult.

By 5:30, we were both totally exhausted. I hurt in places I didn't even know I had. If actual muscles existed there, I thought, they definitely weren't there yesterday.

"You look like shit, Wil!" Sky laughed.

I winced, rubbing my sore left tricep. "Man, I thought I felt like shit after swim practice!" I moaned. "This is a whole new level of pain."

"Yes, but it's a good kinda pain," he laughed. "Look, man, if you're really hurtin', we can use the whirlpool bath down the hall."

"What's that?"

"It's like a real hot bath," he explained, "only with a buncha bubbles and crap. It's a shitload better than a hot shower. Coach lets us use it when we pull a muscle in our legs or somethin'."

"Oh, you mean like a little swimming pool?" I asked, trying to visualize it.

He nodded. "Not exactly, but sorta. It's only big enough for maybe ten guys. Since it's Friday, and we don't have a game tonight, the place is totally deserted. It'll just be you and me."

Well, maybe a hot bath with my best friend wouldn't be so bad, I thought. I felt that familiar twinge again. Shit, don't get hard, don't get hard! I desperately tried to remember the capitals of Europe, which were going to be on our Geography test this coming Monday.

I nodded and we headed back down the hall, and I pulled off my T-shirt, which was damp with sweat. The locker room was deserted. Sky ran down the hall to use the pay phone to call his girlfriend at home, to apologize again for not seeing her after school. Just as I had yanked off my jockstrap, I heard a voice behind me and almost jumped up in the air with fright.

"Hey! The locker room's closed! No one's allowed in here but the football team!"

I turned to see Chuck, the gym manager. He looked at me oddly, but then I realized why he was staring.

I already had a partial hard-on, just at the thought of being in the whirlpool bath with Sky. I glanced down, and was mortified to see it was already at least 7 inches, and throbbing closer to 8 with every second.

"Oh, hi, Chuck. You scared the shit outta me," I said, nonchalantly trying to turn away from him. "I... ah... got permission from Coach Byers to use the weight room. Sky Jones just took me through my first workout, and we're gonna use the whirlpool. We'll be out in fifteen minutes, I promise."

Chuck continued to stare intensely below my waist, then waddled a few steps towards me. I felt a shiver. This guy definitely gave me the creeps. Jesus, maybe he really was a pervert, like Ronnie said. I grabbed my towel and clumsily covered myself up.

"Look, Chuck, give me a break, willya?" I snapped. "I'm just gonna jump in the whirlpool and be out before you know it. Is that okay?"

As he got closer, I took a good look at him. Chuck was one of the weirdest-looking kids I'd ever seen at school. He was huge, even for a 16 year-old, and his eyes were real close together. I mentally guessed he was at least 200 pounds -- probably all fat -- and I bet he had at least a hundred thousand pimples on his face. Chuck was definitely not an athlete, but I figured him being the assistant manager was probably as close as he'd ever get to actually being on a team.

"You're... you're real big, y' know?" he said, softly, walking closer to get a better look at me.

I pretended to misunderstand him. "Yeah, and Coach says I'm gonna get even bigger if I can work out more," I replied. "Sky's helping me with the weights."

The other boy shook his head. "No. Your dick. It's really... amazing."

I felt a twinge, and was terribly embarrassed when I glanced down to see my towel was beginning to tent up below my waist. There was no mistaking the outline.

"Yeah, well, I was born this way, and I can't change it," I said, irritated. "It's really not a big deal."

Chuck took another step closer and looked me right in the eye. I could smell a strange odor about him, kind of an odd mixture of salt and rotten eggs. He was sweating profusely, despite the locker room's cool temperature, and he had a troubled expression on his face, as if he was caught in a struggle trying to decide whether or not to do something horrible.

"It's... it's a big deal to me," he said, quietly. "I'd do anything to have a big one like that. Even to... touch it, or anything..."

I started feeling terrified. Chuck probably outweighed me by almost a hundred pounds. If he really attacked me, all he'd have to do to totally subdue me would be just to sit on my chest and crush me to death.

"Look, Chuck, I really don't w-want any trouble..." I stammered.

He was close enough to touch me now. "I can... make you feel a lot better, Wil," he whispered, his face moist with perspiration. "Just let me try. Please." The obese teenager slowly reached his pudgy hand out to touch my towel, and I took a step back.

"Hey, Wil! Let's go, man, the whirlpool's all hot n' ready to go!"

Both Chuck and I jumped with a start as Sky ran back into the room, already half-naked.

"Hi, Chuck," he said, acknowledging our visitor. "Listen, Coach said I could close up, so you can split now. Thanks for hangin' out, man. The team really appreciates it!"

Chuck nodded meekly, and said, "Okay, Sky. You know to kill the lights and let the door lock behind you when you leave."

"Rightio, Chuck," said Sky, yanking off his shorts and jock and grabbing his towel. "Thanks, man!"

The fat boy waddled out of the locker room, and Sky walked over to me and tossed his jockstrap in the empty clothes locker next to mine.

I let out a sigh of relief. "Jesus Christ, Sky! That guy gives me the creeps!" I shuddered, pulling off my glasses and laying them down in my locker.

Sky turned and gave me an incredulous look. "Ol' Chuckles? That fat fuck? Just ignore him, man," he said. "Chuck just likes lookin' at guys. I see him lookin' at me all the time, when the team's in the showers. He's harmless! He's just a fag."

I nodded. "Yeah -- just a fag. Okay."

We grabbed our towels and walked down the hall past the shower and around the corner to a smaller room. A strange chemical smell filled the air, and I heard a bubbling noise, like the beakers in Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory.

"Here it is, the official Tampa Central High whirlpool!" Sky said, reaching in and turning on the light switch, which cast a dim glow around a small pool surrounded by a concrete deck. "Hop on in... the water's fine."

Sky peeled off his towel and stepped down into the bubbling water, which had a layer of white foam floating on the top. I turned to watch him move down the steps. Jesus, even his back has muscles, I thought, as I hung my towel on a nearby hook. A deeply-etched line ran down his spine, leading to his very round, muscular butt -- excuse me, the 'gluteus maximus.' By any name, it still made my heart pound. His posterior was very white, in stark contrast with the deep brown tan of the rest of his body. I averted my eyes and gingerly dipped my toe into the pool, which was boiling.

"Fuck!" I yelled. "This thing is gonna scald my ass!"

Sky laughed, his wonderful laugh again. "Naaaa! It feels great! I already checked the thermostat, and it's only 105 degrees. C'mon, just get in and go with the flow, man!"

Gingerly, I moved down the steps, wincing as the bubbling bath hit my dangling family jewels, and finally sat down in the water, right next to my friend.

"Aaaaaaaaah," he sighed, stretching out his legs under water. "Isn't this the greatest?"

I had never felt anything like it. Hidden water jets in the walls blasted thousands of bubbles all over my body, giving my back a vigorous massage. While the chemical smell was pretty intense -- it was noticeably worse than any of the pools I'd ever swam in -- I had to admit, it felt great. I closed my eyes and drank in the sheer physical pleasure of the experience.

"Sky, this is... this is really great, man," I sighed. "I wish my dad would buy one of these for our house!"

Sky laughed. "Fat chance, Wil. You guys still have a 21" black and white TV!"

"Hey," I protested. "That's 'cause my Dad says color TV isn't perfected yet!"

"No, it's 'cause he's a cheap bastard!" he taunted.

"He is not!"

"Is so!"

I started to open up my mouth up to continue the argument, but Sky picked that exact moment to send a big splash of bubbling water right up my nose.

I choked and wheezed. "You asshole!" I yelled, coughing. "There's dangerous chemicals and shit in here! Now, I'll probably turn into the Incredible Hulk or something!"

Sky laughed uproariously, his voice echoing off the tile walls. "That's the only time I ever got you first in a pool, Wil! C'mon, how many times have you nailed me with a killer splash before?"

I sputtered and spit, but was hell-bent for revenge. "You mean like THIS?" I yelled, leaping off the wall and dragging his head under water. We spent the next few minutes wrestling back and forth, laughing and yelping as each of us pinched and grabbed the other in the whirlpool.

We'd done this a thousand times before in swimming pools and at the beach, but somehow, it was different this time. For one, we were both completely naked. For another, we were totally by ourselves. After a few minutes of horseplay, we wound up pinned against the wall with our arms wrapped around each other, my face right on top of Sky's muscular chest. We laughed hysterically, but I felt a strong surge in my loins, and my heart pounded.

We were both breathing faster, and our laughter slowly stopped as we caught our breath and looked up at each other. Shit, I thought. If I made any kind of move, I just knew what Sky would say. Suddenly, something grabbed me firmly but gently down below.

"Ah, what do we have down here," Sky said, playfully tugging on my manhood. "Did you smuggle a baseball bat into the pool, young man?"

I grinned and reached down underwater. He was hard, too. "No sir," I said, "but you seem to have an abnormal growth over here that I think needs to be diagnosed." I started stroking him.

"Wha... what are you doing, Wil?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

"Look, man," I whispered. "There's nobody else around. Let's... you know, go for it!"

"Here? Is that sanitary?" he asked, quietly.

I sniffed the air. "Shit, Sky. There's so many chemicals in here, it's probably killed all the germs for 100 yards."

He nodded, and we sloshed back over to the underwater concrete steps.

"Okay," he whispered. "You do me, and I'll do you."

My heart raced as I sat up on the pool's top step. "I'm almost there now, Sky," I whispered back. "Just jerk me first so I can get rid of this thing, or else I won't be able to walk out of here."

He started stroking me slowly, using the foamy water as a lubricant. It felt incredible. I reached over and gently caressed his chest with my left hand, and he let out a moan.

"You look really great, Sky," I muttered.

He kept silent and continued moving his right hand back and forth, while his other hand groped his own groin.

"Use both hands," I begged. "You know... like you did before."

"I remember," he said, quietly. Sky reached over and began vigorously stroking me with both hands. It took less than a minute for me to start bucking and thrusting. An involuntary guttural moan started deep in my throat, and before I knew it, a half-dozen spurts shot through the air and landed somewhere in the middle of the bubbly water.

"Jesus, Wil," he whispered. "You just squirted like six feet away!"

"I guess I was... a little worked-up," I gasped.

He nodded, then pulled himself up next to me on the top step, his long legs still in the water. He looked at me hungrily.

"Please. Can you... do it for me?" he pleaded. "I can't even get Melissa to let me go to second base."

I grinned wickedly and gently stroked his rock-hard erection with my right hand. "Lemme try something different," I said. I dropped down between his legs, opened my mouth, and swallowed him up completely in one gulp.

"Oh, GOD!" he moaned.

"Shhhhh!" I mumbled, my mouth half-full. "Somebody'll hear us!"

"Fuck, Wil," he whispered. "That feels incredible!"

I gripped him tightly and began moving back and forth, exploring every inch of his groin with my tongue, slurping hungrily as I went. I used my right hand to tenderly squeeze his balls, while I stroked his chest and tweaked his nipples with my left. Sky moaned with sheer delight.

"Jesus, shit, man!" he cried. "Where did you learn that from? Christ, this is unbelievable!"

I stopped for a minute and pulled my mouth off. "I read a lotta books," I grinned, smacking my lips.

"Please don't stop!" he begged.

"Okay, okay!" I said, and diligently went back to the job at hand. I plunged my face all the way down until my nose poked the blond tufts at the base and I felt a little pressure at the back of my throat. Suppressing the urge to gag, I worked him over as thoroughly as I could, remembering everything Rick and Ronnie had done for me over the past couple of months. I playfully probed my tongue in his belly-button, tracing the light trail of blond hairs all the way down. He moaned again with approval. Less than a minute later, I felt his balls tighten, and I knew he was getting close.

"Wil... I'm... gonna shoot, man!" he whispered.

I patted his chest to assure him it was OK. I squeezed his balls a little tighter, then lightly fingered him a little lower, pushing my finger in to the first knuckle without encountering any resistance. I wiggled around and he began groaning and thrusting uncontrollably.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned, "here comes! Ohhhhhhhhhhh!" He practically lifted his hips out of the water as he lurched forward, humping my mouth like a total madman, completely out of control. I felt several hot spurts hit the back of my throat, and I swallowed it all as he sank back into the hot, bubbling water. Curiously, I couldn't taste anything; with all the weird chemicals I'd already swallowed, I figured, one more weird taste wouldn't kill me.

Sky looked like he was unconscious. I let him slip out of my mouth, then I stepped up and sat down next to him on the steps.

"So, how was that, Sky?" I asked, quietly, wiping off my mouth. I grinned and laid my right arm on the step behind him.

He opened his eyes, looked at me, and smiled weakly. "Christ, Wil. That was... well, I just wasn't expecting that." He caught his breath. "You were... you were really great."

"Thanks," I chuckled, leaning back against the wall. "I've never actually done it to anybody else before," I said, truthfully. Rick and Ron had always insisted on doing all the work in our occasional get-togethers.

Sky sighed. "Fuck, I'd hate to see how good you could get with more practice!"

I grinned. "Well, I had a couple of good teachers," I said.

"Who?" he asked, warily.

"Oh -- nobody," I said, nonchalantly. "Just a couple of friends. Nobody you'd know."

He was quiet for a moment, then turned to look me in the eye.

"Melissa won't do any of that shit for me," he said, wistfully.

"Well, don't ask me to give her lessons, okay?" I laughed, wiggling my boner, which had sprung back to life and was sticking out of the water like a periscope.

But Sky didn't even smile. He sat silent, and looked away from me. I leaned up, reached over and put my hand on his shoulder, and he turned his face back to mine. We were just inches apart.

"I'm... I'm really glad you liked it, Sky," I whispered. Before I could even think what I was doing, I leaned forward and kissed him. At first, he kissed back, gently pushing into me. I could smell his face, feel his warmth. Oh, god, I thought, I can't believe this is happening. He moaned softly and caressed the back of my head, and I felt his tongue start to touch my lips. I reached to pull him even closer, but suddenly he wrenched away with a cry, and punched me in the face as hard as he could.

For an instant, I saw stars. Then I fell backwards into the hot bubbling water.

I was momentarily stunned, but the sharp sting of the chemicals in my eyes brought me back to life. I stood up, sputtering and spitting out blood and pieces of teeth.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" I screamed.

"GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU FAGGOT!" he yelled back.

I was in shock. Sky leapt out of the water, almost slipping on the tile floor as he ran to the wall and angrily ripped his towel off from a hook.

I stood there as my eyes filled with tears, half from the pain, half from the shock.

"Sky, I'm... I'm sorry, man," I stammered. "I just thought... I thought this was what you wanted..."

"SHUT UP!" he hissed. "I told you, I don't want any of that faggot crap!" He was literally shaking with rage.

I began to sob, quietly. I hadn't cried in more than five years, since my great-grandmother had died in '63.

"Sky, I swear," I choked. "It's not a big deal! It's just between us -- just us guys. Nobody has to know, I promise!" Like brothers, I thought.

"BUT I'LL KNOW" he bellowed. "You just want me to be a fag, like you! I'm no fuckin' homo, goddammit!"

"I never said you were," I wailed. "Sky, I swear to god, I'm not a homo, either! I still like girls! I'd love to fuck one right now, as a matter of fact. But I just thought..."

He angrily waved both fists at me. "You thought wrong! Just get away from me!" he screamed. "Go with your fuckin' queer friends. Go suck your own dick, for all I care! Just stay the fuck away from me, Wil!"

With that, my best friend in the world turned and stormed out of the room, leaving me alone with the bubbles, the water, and the stinky chemicals. I sat down on the steps and cried.

In the six years I'd known Sky, I'd never seen him so incredibly angry. He was right. I was totally fucked-up. I had seduced my best friend into doing something he never wanted to do, something he hated. I'd crossed some invisible line, gone too far, and destroyed our friendship. Fuck, fuck, FUCK! How could I be so stupid?

I lay my head down on the concrete edge of the pool and quietly wept. The sounds of my sobs echoed on the tile walls, while the bubbles continued to percolate. I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest.

Slowly, I pulled myself out of the water, grabbed my towel, shut off the switch and staggered down the hallway. I got to a mirror above one of the sinks in the bathroom, and took a good close look at my face. I winced. Yep, definitely a chipped tooth on the bottom, and my lower lip was cut pretty badly. I could still taste the blood in my mouth. Looked like a big bruise on my chin, too. Shit. I wiped off my mouth with a paper towel, and grimaced with the pain. I'd have to tell the folks I fell off a diving board or something.

I pulled on my clothes, zipped up my jacket, and headed out into the cold Florida night.

Two minutes later, someone else turned the lights out, opened the door, and left in the opposite direction.
 
 

© 2001, John Francis