Chapter 17

By the end of January, I had managed to pass the English equivalency test and get totally exempted for 9th and 10th grade English. Mrs. Kester was reluctant to see me go, but I told her I'd probably see her again in a couple of years, for English Literature and maybe for Composition.

Chorus was a bigger challenge than I thought. My original plan was to be a rock singer, but the choir director, Mr. Guccino, had other ideas. "First, we need to work on the fundamentals, Wil," he explained.

It was kind of scary being in the choir, because we often had to sing alone, in front of the entire class. Eventually, I got over my stage fright and was able to keep up with the rest of them.

We didn't do quite as well in Swimming. While our team did OK for the next two meets, our competition was fierce for the rest of the season. I pulled a groin muscle during practice in early February, and that pretty much killed me for the next three weeks. "It's no wonder," cracked Aaron. "Wil's cock is so big, his muscles weren't strong enough to hold it up!" Always a wise-ass.

Coach Byers was a little kinder. "Stuff happens, son," he said, after the doctor looked me over. "You gotta take it easy, so you don't re-injure the muscle," he said, gently. "You're still making progress. I think next season will be your year, Wil. You hang in there."

I nodded, then limped for the door. I didn't know exactly where the groin muscle was or what it did, but it felt like no matter what I moved, it hurt like hell, right in my balls.

One weekend, while I was recovering, the phone rang.

"Hey, Wil. It's me, Pete."

Jesus, I thought, slapping my forehead. I hadn't thought about Pete in weeks. "Hi, Pete," I said. "Listen, I'm sorry for not getting back to you."

"That's okay, man," he said. "Didja listen to listen to the records I gave you?"

"Yeah. They were great, man." I really had enjoyed them, though I hated it when my sister snuck in here and played her Monkees albums, when I wasn't around.

"Which one did you like the most?" he asked.

I thought for a minute. "It's a tie between 'Pet Sounds' and 'Friends'," I said. "Both of them were great."

He laughed. "Groovy. You always were a sucker for those Beach Boy harmonies, right?

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, sheepishly. "Listen, Pete, I don't mean to throw you off the phone, but I kinda gotta get back to my homework."

"I heard you were singing more," he continued.

How could he know that? "Uh, yeah. As a matter of fact, a friend of mine at school convinced me to join the choir."

"Very cool," he said. "I had a hunch you'd do that. You might just be a rock singer yet, man."

My lower abdomen suddenly throbbed and I let out a moan.

"Am I, uh... interrupting something?" he said, concerned.

"No, Pete," I said, gritting my teeth. "I just... pulled a groin muscle a few days ago. It really hurts, man."

"Then I won't keep you long. Listen, uh, Wil," he said, quietly. "March is gonna be a tough month for you. I want you to be real careful."

What was he talking about? "For what?"

"Remember what I said before. Please, Wil," he said. "I know you won't believe me, but please listen: stay away from the person you think you love the most."

I'd had about enough of this. "I gotta go, Pete. Thanks again for the records."

"Okay," he said. "Call me when you can."

I hung up the phone. This was really too weird.

At lunch the following week, I sat at a table with Mark and Barry from the swim team. They spent most of the time talking to each other, and barely included me in the conversation.

I missed Ronnie. I wouldn't even mind hearing one of the little twerp's stupid one-liners again. I glanced around, hoping I could spot another friendly face from one of my other classes, but everybody around me looked unfamiliar.

Down the aisle, I heard some raised voices.

"I don't care, I'm just sick of this shit!"

"Well, if that's how you feel, fine!"

"Yeah. FINE!"

I looked over and was surprised to see it was Sky and Melissa. Melissa stormed off and out of the cafeteria, through the side entrance. Sky looked completely miserable.

"Hey!" I yelled, waving him over.

He nodded and walked over to my table and sat down, slumping his shoulders. "Hey, Wil," he said, obviously down.

"Hey," I said, quietly. I dug into my roast beef. It was dry and had too much fat on it. I cut the fat off and tore it away from the pitiful slab of meat that was left. "The food here really sucks," I said, trying to make idle conversation.

"Yeah," he glumly replied.

In between mouthfuls, I looked up. Sky looked thoroughly miserable. "You okay, man?" I asked.

He nodded. "Melissa is really pissing me off," he said, exasperated. "I don't know what she wants outta me."

I continued to eat, but looked on him with rapt attention. At times like this, the least I could do was listen to my friend's problems.

"She's just so... fucked up!" he said, angrily.

"Sky," I said, sincerely. "Melissa's really cute. You're lucky to have her." And she's real lucky to have you, I thought to myself.

He nodded. "Yeah, I know. But she's just so goddamned... frustrating!"

I started on my peas. They were cold, as usual.

"Don't worry about it, Sky," I said, soothingly. "You guys'll work things out. It's kind of a give and take thing, y'know?" Shit. I was starting to sound like Ann Landers in the paper.

"You wanna... get together this weekend or something?" he asked.

I thought for a minute. "Oh, you mean with Ginny?" I said, mentioning that girl he'd talked about a few days before.

"If you want," he said. "Or maybe just you and me. We could... I dunno, see a movie or something."

I'd been down this road before. It was too much to hope for.

"Sorry, Sky," I said. "I gotta go to practice. I'm almost well enough to get back on the swim team full-time. And I got a shit-load of homework and stuff."

He looked disappointed. "Okay," he said, standing up. "But call me if you change your mind."

"Okay, Sky." I was determined not to let Sky get to me. I went back to my food. At least the dessert tasted reasonable.

"And... thanks for lettin' me talk to you," he said, quietly.

I looked up and grinned. "Hey," I said. "That's what I'm here for."

He smiled sadly and nodded.

The weather was pretty bad throughout most of February. Even though it was outside of the usual hurricane season, school was cancelled for two days while a huge tropical storm rolled through Tampa with a vengeance. Aside from a little dampness in a couple of the classrooms, though, the school was pretty much undamaged. Or at least it was no tackier than it was before the storm, anyway.

I was healing pretty well from my groin pull, to the point where I could do some light exercises at the gym. Tricep seemed to hurt me the most -- how that was connected to the groin, I'll never know -- but I worked around it as best I could. One day, I shot a look at myself in the mirror, when Sky wasn't looking. I was taken aback. There was no question, I was beginning to turn into a mini-hunk myself --almost a smaller version of Sky! I began to feel my groin throb in response, but I almost didn't care. I held my bicep up and flexed, and was shocked to see a little ridge push up.

"Hey, Wil!" said Sky, sidling up to me. "Lookin' good, huh, man?"

My face reddened. "I was just... seeing if I'd gotten any bigger," I said, placing my dumbbell back in the rack.

"Hey, don't feel ashamed, Wil," he said, reassuringly. "That's why we're here, right?"

I nodded.

"Let's check the measurements and see where we're at." Sky pulled me over to a rusted file cabinet on one side of the room, and pulled out a blue tape measure and a piece of paper. "Here," he said, handing me the tape. "Put the tape around my arm, and let's see where we're at."

My hands shook slightly as I rolled the tape over Sky's arm. He skin was light brown and flawless as always. I could smell a faint, sweet aroma of sweat, and his arms were rippled with small veins and muscular indentations. There were little blond hairs that trailed across the back of his arm, then got thicker as they reached the forearm. He pulled his right fist up in the classic body builder pose and squeezed, and a huge ripple bounced up from his upper arm.

"Hurry up, man!" he panted. "I can't hold this forever."

My hands shook slightly as I stretched the tape around his arm. "16-1/2 inches," I read. I prayed he wouldn't notice my nervousness.

"Damn!" he said, relaxing his arm. "I was sure I could hit 17 inches by now. Try my chest."

That turned out to be about 44 inches -- not bad, but Sky was still unimpressed. His waist was still 26 inches, which was really great. His abs looked as spectacular as ever. His weight was at 160, which was the biggest he'd ever been.

"Now you," he said, turning me around to face the mirror.

"I d-dunno, Sky," I mumbled.

"This is the only way we can see if you're makin' any progress, dick-head!" he laughed.

I nodded. He checked off the chart we'd started in January. Much to my surprise, I had gained nearly an inch in arms, and two inches in chest. I was also up ten pounds, to 120. I was still a lot smaller than Sky, but there was no question -- I was catching up.

"Too cool, Wil!" he said, admiringly. "You're really responding to the training."

I nodded. "Sky, could you... maybe check my height for me?"

Sky knew I was always sensitive about being the shortest guy on the swim team. He let the tape hit the floor and held it up.

"Stand against the wall," he ordered. He pinned the tape at my feet and pulled it all the way up. "Five feet...four inches!" he said.

"Wow!" I said, astonished. "I've grown two inches since September!" I was absolutely dumbfounded. Maybe that's why my jeans hadn't been fitting me that well lately.

"I believe that's what we scientists refer to as your 'growth spurt,'" Sky said, flashing me a grin. "I hope you haven't gained any inches anywhere else," he added quietly, giving me a playful poke.

I rolled my eyes. "I can barely get the thing in my pants as it is, asshole!" I shot back.

He laughed, and we went back to our workout.

Wednesday after chorus practice ended, Melissa came up to me. I was surprised to see her, because usually whenever I talked to her, Sky was around. This time, she was with a cute little brunette.

"Hi, Wil," she said. "You sounded great today in class."

"Thanks," I nodded, grabbing my notebook from the shelf at the front of the room.

"I have somebody I want you to meet," she said. "This is Virginia Randall."

I turned, and saw a petite girl just under five feet. She wore cool wire-rim glasses, and behind them were bright gray eyes.

"Hi," she said, shyly. "I'm Ginny."

"Hi," I said, taking her hand. "I'm Wil."

"Melissa's told me all about you," she said, flashing me a beautiful smile.

I hope not everything, I thought.

"Sky and I are gonna go out this Friday to a movie," said Melissa. "You two wanna come along?"

I felt a pain in my heart. To hang out with Sky was one thing, but it was getting to the point where I didn't like being there when he and Melissa had their hands all over each other -- which was most of the time.

"That's unless you're busy," she continued, seeing the look on my face.

"No, no," I said, flustered. "Uh... yeah, I guess I could go. But I gotta be home by ten. I've got a meet on Saturday."

"I heard you swam," said Ginny, smiling. "You look really great in that shirt."

I looked down. It looked like the same old shirt I always had. But now that I thought about it, I guess it did look a little tighter than it used to be.

"Thanks," I said. "Where do you guys wanna go?"

"Let's go see that cool new movie -- 2001, at the Palace Cinerama Theater downtown," replied Melissa.

I had heard of it, and even started reading the book, but the movie had been sold out for weeks.

"Can you guys get tickets?" I asked.

Melissa nodded. "Sky's dad said he'd pick them up on the way home from his office," she said.

"That'd be great," I said.

"So it's a date, then!" Melissa chirped.

Ginny looked at me expectantly.

I hesitated, then glanced at the two girls. I sighed. "Yeah," I said, finally. "It'll be cool, right?"

Ginny smiled sweetly at me. God, she really was cute.

Friday night, the movie was spectacular. I'd never seen anything like it. While we walked through the exit and back to the car, I talked about it excitedly with Ginny.

"Those special effects were UNBELIEVABLE!" I enthused. "I thought Star Trek on TV was cool, but this was like... it was like it was real!"

Ginny put her hand into mine as we walked. "I dunno, Wil," she said. "I thought the ending was a little confusing."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, there was nothing there." I launched into a pseudo-intellectual explanation of what 2001 was all about. It was obvious to me that the aliens had found a way to communicate with the astronaut, then transformed him into some new form of life and sent him back to earth in a little bubble, maybe as a kind of emissary. I figured it was all some kind of allegory, but you could interpret it several different ways.

Ginny looked at me with rapt attention. "I'm impressed," she giggled. "You got all that out of the movie?"

I nodded. "Oh, yeah. I've read Arthur C. Clarke before."

"Who?" she asked.

"The writer," I said.

Behind us, Sky and Melissa's voices were getting louder.

"Just shut up," she yelled. "I don't wanna talk about it any more."

"But Melissa..." Sky whined.

"Shut up!"

Ginny and I turned. Melissa barged right through us and down the sidewalk to the car, where Sky's father was waiting. I glanced over at Sky. He looked at me, irritated, and rolled his eyes.

"Women!" he muttered to me as he pushed passed us.

"Yeah," I said.

Ginny squeezed my hand tighter. "I guess Sky and Melissa are having some problems."

I nodded. "They're both great people, you know," I said.

"Sky's lucky to have you for a friend, Wil," she said, quietly.

I grinned. "You're not so bad, either," I laughed.

She laughed with me. Her voice sounded like bells.

"Let's go, kids," called out Dr. Jones from the car. "We don't have all night."

I held the door for Ginny, then I crawled in after her. Sky got in the front passenger side next to his dad and angrily slammed the door. I glanced over to Melissa, who looked real pissed-off about something. Sky's dad started the engine and we sped down the street, picking up speed as we hit the downtown bridge.

"So how was the movie?" said Dr. Jones.

"Man, it was great!" I said, snapping on my seatbelt. "Easily the best science-fiction film ever made. I thought Forbidden Planet was good, but this was incredible."

He laughed. "So it gets the William G. Larson seal of approval?"

"If it doesn't win the Academy Award," I said seriously, "the director should sue Hollywood."

"How did you like it, son?" asked Sky's father.

Sky didn't answer. I looked up at him, and he was sulking in his seat.

"Sky?" his father repeated.

"Huh? Oh, sorry Dad," he said. "Yeah, what Wil said. It was cool."

"It had better be," replied his father, as he turned down Bayshore Boulevard. "That cost us three-fifty a ticket! Movie prices are getting totally out of control."

We dropped off Melissa at her house, but she ran up the steps and slammed the door. Sky didn't even get out of the car. When we got to Ginny's house, I walked her over to the front porch.

"I really liked the movie, Wil," she said. "We should do this again sometime."

I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for coming, Ginny."

We stood there nervously. She leaned over and whispered, "Thanks, Wil," and gave me a little peck on the cheek. I grinned at her.

"G'night, Ginny!" I called, running back to the car.

"'Night, Wil! See you in school on Monday!"

Sky sulked all the way home. As I got out of the car, I turned to him. "Hey -- call me over the weekend."

He nodded. I closed the car door and ran up the steps to the porch, then on up to my room. I put on the White Album again on my stereo, and lay down on my bed. As I stared at the ceiling, I ran all the images of the movie through my head again. I felt like a whole world had opened up to me, like I had actually been in outer space. Unbelievable.

Then I thought of Sky, and felt a pang. I really should've paid more attention to my friend. He was obviously having some problems with Melissa. I wanted to help him, but I knew I couldn't open myself up, just to get hurt again. Besides, it would just jeopardize our friendship.

I yawned, closed my eyes, and quietly sang along with "While My Guitar Gently Weeps," and dissolved into sleep.

Saturday morning, the coach agreed with me that my groin pull had healed enough that I could participate in the last three meets. By early March, season ended, and we finished the year 15 and 6 -- not great, but not all that much worse than last year. Coach Byers encouraged us to continue to train at least twice a week. Some of us were going to keep swimming during the summer on the Greater Tampa team, and I had already made the tryouts.

Since both football and swimming season were over with, Sky and I made it a regular thing to workout in the weight room at least three times a week, which was pretty cool. I began to get used to the strain of the various exercises, and got to the point where I actually looked forward to the pure physical challenge. I found it a relief from the mental stress of studying and homework, which I was doing constantly. The weather was hot enough that we had to work out shirtless, since there wasn't any air conditioning in the weight room.

"You need to do this more, Wil," said Sky, as he grabbed a 25-pound dumbbell from the rack. "You're really lookin' a lot better, you know it?"

I looked up at the mirror. Sky and I stood together about three feet apart. Compared to him, I thought I still looked puny -- but I had to admit, I was getting a line down my chest, and my arms and pecs were definitely a lot bigger than they used to be. Sky's abs were looking really great. His stomach glistened with a thin sheen of sweat.

"How many sit-ups are you doing every day, now, Sky?" I asked.

He grinned and ran his fingers down his stomach. "I'm up to 400 a day, but I'm probably gonna increase that to 500."

"Wow," I said, quietly. "You really look great."

I felt a tingle in my groin. Every single part of Sky's body was attractive to me, but I had to admit, his stomach was probably his best feature -- next to his face. He was... there was no adequate word to describe him, but 'beautiful' came closest. I sighed.

"Aaaaa, it's not that much work," he said, starting his bicep reps. "I can knock out 400 sit-ups in under ten minutes. The key is to do it every day, and that takes a lotta discipline."

We finished our routine and headed for the locker room. It was Friday, and Chuck, the gym manager, was shutting everything down for the weekend.

"Gym's closing in ten minutes!" he yelled.

I shot him a glance, and he ducked away. Chuck and I still avoided each other since the incident with Scott Michaels back in December. Most of the school thought he was a hero for 'saving' Scott after his 'accident', but Chuck and I knew the truth.

"The weather's gonna be great this weekend," said Sky. "You wanna go out with me on the boat?"

I pulled up my long pants and started putting on my socks. "Saturday or Sunday?" I asked.

"Either way. I kinda had another fight with Melissa, so I'm a free man," he said, pulling off his shorts.

"Gee, Sky. I'm sorry to hear that," I said, sincerely.

"It's no big deal. Melissa's just kind of... I dunno... religious, I guess." He sighed. "She says she has to be 'a good Catholic girl,' and all that crap."

I nodded. "Well, there's always Cynthia," I said, grinning.

Sky chuckled. "Naaa. She and Scott are now an item."

I was surprised. "Scott Michaels?"

I hadn't seen much of Scott since I'd bumped into him after school in the bathroom. He'd been in study hall instead of Phys Ed for the last couple of months. And I'd managed to avoid talking to Cynthia since our brief encounter around Christmas. I guess maybe she could accommodate Scott a little easier than she could me.

He nodded. "Yeah. They seem to be inseparable now."

"So, you wanna go out on the boat on Sunday?" he asked, buttoning up his shirt.

I thought for a moment. "You sure you know how to run that thing?" I said, furrowing my brow.

Sky grinned. "Oh, yeah. I've already got my license and everything. Just call me Captain Jones!"

I laughed and saluted. "Aye-aye, sir!"

Sunday, we arrived at the Marina just before noon. It was overcast, but the weather was still pretty hot, especially for spring. Sky proudly showed me his father's new boat -- a 45-foot Sea Ray Sundancer cabin cruiser christened "The Sans Souci," which he explained to me was French for "without care."

It was a beautiful ship, white with black and gray trim, and it had a good-sized cabin in the center that could sleep up to four people. Sky and his folks had taken one like it all the way down to the Bahamas over the Christmas holidays, and they liked it so much, they bought one.

"My dad told me not to crank it up past 30 knots," he explained, "but on a ship this size, that's really movin'. Hang on!"

We spent the next two hours tooling around Tampa Bay, going underneath Gandy Bridge, and all the way out to the Sunshine Skyway, which was an enormous series of bridges that stretched for nearly five miles, linking the resort cities of St. Petersburg and Sarasota.

"Wow," I said, as the boat passed under the concrete pylons. "It's looks really beautiful from down here."

"Yeah, isn't it? Look over there!" Sky pointed to the right, just as a couple of dolphins leaped out of the water. We both laughed. Life on the ocean looked wonderful.

Around 2:30, we finished our lunch of ham and cheese sandwiches that his mom had made for us. I sat on the ledge, leaned way over and dipped my hand in the bay. The water felt cool, and my fingers left little ripples in the ocean as we slowly moved eastward. I could barely see any land at all from here. For all I knew, we were a million miles from anywhere.

"Hey," called Sky down from the bridge, "I'm burnin' up. You need some sunscreen?"

"Yeah!" I yelled over the motor. "Throw me down some."

Sky cut the engine and darted down the steps to the aft section, where I leaned back on the ledge.

"Here," he said. "Lemme put it on for you."

I turned around and he kneaded my flesh, working the green goo into my back. It stung a little when he got to my shoulders, which were already red and slightly blistered, but it felt pretty good. I turned around and held my hand out for the bottle. Sky ignored me, squirted some on his hands, and began rubbing my chest. I looked up at him, but he wouldn't look me in the eye. Instead, he methodically worked the salve into my skin. My face turned red, and I mentally commanded my erection to stay calm.

"Now, you do me," he said, quietly.

I took the brown bottle from him and put some on my face and neck. Sky turned and lay face down on a towel on the deck. I kneeled over and squeezed some of the liquid into my hands and worked it deeply into his muscular back. I worked him over for several minutes, tracing the powerful line down his spine, which led into two round muscular globes below, covered only by his thin shorts. My hands shook slightly as they strayed below, rubbing the backs of his legs and his inner thighs, which were covered by a forest of light downy blond hairs. He stirred.

"That's great, Wil," he murmured. "You could be a real masseuse."

"You mean a 'masseur,'" I corrected him. "One's a girl, the other's a guy."

"Whatever," he said with a smile. "It still feels great."

My heart pounded as he rolled over on his back and grabbed a pair of sunglasses. "Man, it's hot, isn't it?" he sighed.

I nodded, then squirted some more sunscreen into my hands and reached for his muscular chest. The moment I felt his skin, I felt my groin twinge and rapidly expand to its full length. I prayed Sky wouldn't notice; out of habit, I had deliberately worn some denim shorts to help give me a little camouflage, just in case. I felt glad that my endowment was sticking over to the side, instead of straight down. That would've been a giveaway for sure.

Silently, I worked the green goo into his skin. Little patches of gold-colored hairs dotted across the top of his chest, and a small thatch of blond curls stuck out of each of his nipples. I lightly traced my fingertips across them, and Sky stirred and moaned quietly beneath me. I reached for his sides, and he yawned and lay his arms over his head. His underarms each had a thick patch of blondish-brown hairs. My hands trembled again as I worked the cream into his arms, taking care not to tickle him. My pulse was racing. I had to restrain myself not to just lurch forward and kiss him.

I continued to rub down his chest, to his stomach, and into the inverted-V of hairs that trailed down into his shorts. I could just barely see the top of a larger growth of blond hairs in the waistband of his shorts. I stopped there, afraid to go any further, and put the bottle down. My groin throbbed with desire, and my heart pounded so loudly in my chest, I was certain he could hear it.

"Sky?" I said, softly.

He didn't answer. I stared at him for a moment, then shook my head and took a deep breath. I squirted one more blast of sunscreen into my hands, and worked it carefully into Sky's upper thighs. This time, I definitely heard a small groan. I decided to ignore him. If he really wanted me to do more, he was going to have to make the first move. I continued stroking the green goo into his legs, all the way down to his ankles, rubbing it in until his body glistened with the golden rays of the sun.

I snapped the top of the bottle shut, spread out my towel next to him and lay down on my stomach, praying desperately for my erection to subside. We dozed for more than hour, as the boat gently bobbed up and down in the surf.

Sometime after three o'clock, Sky punched me lightly in the arm. "Hey," he said, quietly. "Let's get some more to eat."

A couple of hours later, we started making our way back. "Man," I said, munching on the last of our sandwiches. "Check out that sunset."

It was awe-inspiring. The sun was a giant blood-red blob that hung low in the horizon. Bright orange and red rays stretched out as far as we could see, and pools of gold reflected back from the water and onto the boat. Sky cut the motor and let us drift for awhile. I glanced over at him. We were both shirtless, and both of us were getting our summer tans back. The light caught Sky in just the right way, and I felt my mouth go dry when his face turned to mine.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"No," I said, averting my eyes. "I'm just kinda tired. We should get back."

"We've got at least half an hour," he said. "I gotta go below and take a leak. You need to go?"

I nodded and followed him down the steps. The lower portion of the boat was fairly spartan, with dark wood paneling and a few portholes. There was a small fold-out bed on the right wall of the interior, along with a tiny bathroom next to the stairs.

Modestly, I turned my head as Sky pulled down his swim trunks and began urinating.

"Hey," he said, "don't be shy. Besides, we can't waste water on the boat. C'mon and join me."

I looked up. He beckoned me over, and I walked up beside him and pulled down my trunks. We stood there silently, watching the yellow fluid trickle down and fill the bowl.

"Hey," he laughed. "What happened to your pubes?"

"It's a swim team thing," I explained, embarrassedly. "Our team captain said it would help improve our times. The season's over, so now I'm letting them grow back in."

"How'd you get away with that in gym class?" he asked. "As if you don't get enough attention already."

I chuckled. "I guess I cheated a little," I said, grinning. "I've been working out in the weight room almost every day after Phys Ed, so I just avoided taking a shower with the other guys. Even when I was with you, I just got dressed and split."

Sky nodded. "Yeah, I was wondering about that." He looked down at me again. "Maybe you should keep it shaved. It looks pretty cool. If it doesn't make you swim faster, at least it makes you look sexy."

The room was completely silent, except for the sound of me trickling into the bowl. I shook off the last few drops. Sky was still looking at me. My endowment hung low in the bowl, almost down far enough to touch the metal surface.

"We should be gettin' back," he said, quietly.

"Yeah," I said. I froze for a moment, waiting for Sky. Would he touch me? I was determined not to say or do anything this time. Neither of us looked at each other. I held my breath.

Sky zipped up his shorts and turned to walk up the stairs. "I'll fire up the engine and get us back," he called. "When you're done, come up and keep an eye out for me up front."

He left me alone in the room. I flushed the marine toilet and watched the blue liquid swirl down the stainless steel bowl, and the lid snapped shut. I pushed my organ back in my trunks and stood there, shaking. I was furious with Sky. He knew how I felt. What the fuck was he waiting for? Was he just trying to torture me?

I went back up top and sat on the front of the ship. I didn't speak to him until we saw the marina again.

As we tied up the ship at the dock, he turned to me. "You wanna come over tonight?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Can't. I've got a lot of homework again. Plus I have to practice some exercises for choir."

We rode home in silence in his dad's car. Halfway home, Sky began making idle conversation, but I gave him monosyllabic answers.

"Wil, are you mad at me or something?" he asked.

I longed to tell him how I really felt. Lying was easier. "No. I'm just tired, Sky," I said. "It was a great afternoon. Just drop me off at my place, and I'll see you in school tomorrow."

Late Monday afternoon, I had just walked in the door from school, when my mother called from the kitchen. "Wil!" she yelled. "You've got a phone call! Please tell them to call you on your own line from now on, honey."

I nodded. "Sorry, Mom," I said, taking the phone from her. "Hello?"

"'It's the time, of the season... for loving'!" sang a familiar voice on the phone.

"Pete!" I exclaimed. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," he laughed. "It's me. Have you heard the new Zombies album? Fuckin' amazing, man."

"No, I haven't," I replied, a little annoyed. "Listen, Pete, I'm kinda busy, so..."

"Wil, I gotta see you, if you don't mind," he said, suddenly serious. "It'll only take a minute."

I thought for a moment. Pete was a really weird guy, but he was cool in his own way. At least maybe he could tell me what was happening in music, since he kept up on this stuff a lot better than I did.

"I can't come over today, Pete," I said. "I got homework and stuff."

"No, no," he said. "I'll come to see you, man. You gonna be there for the next couple of hours?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. Then I'm on my way." The line clicked.

Promptly at 5:30PM, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it, Mom!" I yelled, racing down the stairs, three steps at a time.

I opened the door, and just as I'd guessed, it was Pete. "Hi, man," he said.

"So what's up, Pete?" I said, casually.

Pete really was a cool guy, and was exceedingly great-looking, but something about him still made me worried.

"Nothing really," he said. "I was gonna be in your neighborhood, so I just thought I'd, y' know, drop by." He gave me a look that told me it was a lot more serious than that.

"Hello," said a small voice off to my left. It was Sharon on the couch, cuddling her ever-present cat, Samantha.

"Hi!" said Pete. "You must be Wil's sister... Sharon, is it?"

I gulped. I couldn't remember ever telling Pete my sister's name before.

"And who's this?" he grinned, reaching out to pet the kitty. The cat hissed and folded its ears back, and let out a loud, menacing growl.

"Shit!" he said, jerking his hand back. "Uh, sorry, Sharon. I guess your kitty doesn't like me very much."

"Samantha is like that," Sharon said. "Some people she loves, and some she just hates. She loves Wil." She giggled.

Pete laughed. "I can see why," he said. "Wil, your room's upstairs, right?"

"Yeah," I said. "Right up here."

We trudged up the steps and I closed my door, then put on Pet Sounds in the background on the turntable.

"You're still listening to that," he said, approvingly. "Very cool."

"Yeah," I said, grinning. "I've adopted one of the tracks as my personal theme song."

"Don't tell me. 'I Just Wasn't Made for These Times,' right?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah," I said. "I think I know just how Brian Wilson feels."

Pete laughed again. He had a sunny, bright way of laughing, one that made you feel like he was genuinely happy. "That's because both of you are twisted geniuses," he said, grinning, as he casually tossed his long blond hair back over his shoulders.

"Spare me," I said, wincing. "But I like that line about 'they say I got brains, but they ain't doin' me no good.' That one's been true my whole life." I sighed.

"Wil," he said, his eyes sparkling. "You're as smart as God wanted you to be. Don't let it get to you, man."

Great, I thought. More religious crap.

"Hey. I like your new look," he said, smiling.

What was he talking about?

"Oh," I said. "Yeah, I got rid of the glasses. Contact lenses. They're a lot of trouble, but I guess they look better."

"Definitely," he said. "Eyes are the windows to the soul, y' know."

"So Pete," I said, still a little annoyed, "what's up? You got some new music for me?"

"Well, first," he replied, "I wanted to see if maybe you'd have time to jam with us this week at the beach house. You know, play keyboards with the band."

"Sorry, Pete," I said. "I'm tied up with a bunch of things. I'm doing some stuff with my friend Sky, plus I got homework. The usual."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know. Well, maybe another time." He hesitated, like he was afraid to tell me more.

"Is that it?" I asked, exasperated.

He looked at me deeply. "No," he said. "There's something else. I had a dream last night. You were in it."

I laughed. "'I had too much to dream last night... too much to dream...'" I sang.

We both chuckled, remembering The Electric Prunes' one and only hit from the year before.

"Yeah," he said. "Something like that. But seriously, Wil... you remember what I told you a few weeks ago?"

I remembered. He'd told me I should stay away from somebody -- from 'the one I loved the most.'

"Yeah," I said, defensively. "What about it?"

"Something's gonna happen soon," he said, hesitatingly. "Maybe this week, maybe in a month, I don't know. But pretty soon."

"And you got this from your dream," I said, shaking my head. "That's the hokiest thing I've heard today."

Pete looked at me sadly. "Something's gonna happen. There's danger over water, Wil. Please -- stay away from whoever this person is. If you don't, I know you'll both be hurt. But I think you're safe after the start of summer."

"That would be June 21st -- summer solstice," I said. "That's a week before my birthday."

He nodded. "Your life will be back to normal by then. But there's terrible danger ahead. I can feel it."

"Bullshit," I said, rolling my eyes. "Pete, you're a cool guy, and I really appreciate the records you gave me, but come on. This is just too weird, you know?"

He nodded. "I know this is heavy, man," he said, "and I don't expect you to understand. Shit -- even I don't understand it completely."

He paused for a moment, then leaned towards me. "I never told you how my father died," he said.

I shook my head.

"It was early last year," he began. "I told you he was the minister of the Bay Vista Baptist Church. I had a dream in February of him falling through space, screaming. I saw my mom's face smiling at him."

"So?" I asked.

"Wil," he said, "my mom's been dead for five years. She died of cancer in '63. I hadn't thought about her in a long time. I told my dad about the dream, and he laughed it off. A week later, he fell down some stairs at the construction site for the new church building, and was paralyzed."

I looked up at him and stared. Tears were in his eyes.

"I saw him at the hospital," he said, quietly, "and there were tubes and wires all over him. He could barely breathe. When he regained consciousness, he spoke to me. He said, 'your mother's here with me, Pete. We're going to heaven now.'" And that was it."

I suddenly felt a cold draft in the room. Pete was fighting back tears. 'Sloop John B' was quietly playing out of my speakers, but I could barely hear it.

"I knew he was gonna die, Wil, and I couldn't stop it," he said, starting to weep.

Without even knowing what I was doing, I leaned forward and hugged him. Pete put his long arms around me, then bent down and put his head on my shoulders, and began shaking.

"It's okay, man," I whispered, as I put my arms around him. Suddenly, I felt an electric attraction. Pete was so warm and alive. My heart began to pound. His sobs eventually faded away, and he turned and looked at me. I felt myself becoming overwhelmed with his beauty. I'd never seen anybody, man or woman, who looked as good as he did at that moment.

"Thanks, Wil," he said, wiping his eyes. "I'm... I'm sorry to burden you like this. It's been kinda tough since he died. I've got... I've got enough money to live on, and I'm all done with high school in a few months. It's just been, you know, really hard."

I nodded, waiting for my heart to stop pounding. My mouth was dry.

Pete stood up. "I just want you to know, I'm totally serious, Wil. This is no bullshit."

"Al...alright, Pete," I said, trying to regain my composure. "I'll remember what you said -- 'There's danger over water.'"

"I'm sorry I can't tell you what it means," he said, sadly. "I don't totally understand it myself, but I know it's bad. Very bad vibes. Be careful, man."

I said I would, and I walked him back downstairs to his bike.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he said, reaching for an elastic rope on the back of the motorcycle. He brought up a paper bag with some more records. "A couple of new albums I thought you'd like," he said, handing them to me.

Hmmm, I thought. "Fifth Dimension -- Age of Aquarius, The Zombies -- Odyssey & Oracle, and The Doors -- Waiting for the Sun," I said, scanning the covers. "Cool. Thanks a lot, Pete! You want these back when I'm done?"

"Naw," he grinned. "Consider them a gift. And don't forget, the new Beatles album is out in a few months. I know you'll want that one."

"You mean Yellow Submarine?" I asked. "I just got that a few weeks ago."

"No," he said. "I heard it's gonna be called 'Abbey Road.' The word on the street is that it's gonna be great."

I nodded, and he got back on the Honda. "Take care of yourself, Wil," he said, squeezing my shoulder. "Don't forget what I said."

He revved the engine, backed down the driveway, and roared off into the street. I stood on the porch and watched until his bike turned at the light. I went back inside, and Sharon was playing with Samantha the cat, watching her tear up a piece of newspaper with her little fangs.

"Who was that?" said my sister, not even looking up at me.

"Just a friend of mine," I said. That cat really was cute. It ferociously attacked the newspaper and tore it to pieces.

"Samantha hates him," she said. "I think he's bad."

I felt a shiver down my spine. Maybe Pete did give off some bad vibrations. But somehow I knew he was real sensitive, and that he cared about me for some strange reason.

"No," I said, quietly. "He's cool. Maybe Samantha just doesn't understand him."

Sharon nodded, and her cat continued to pounce. I idly scratched the top of the kitty's head. She immediately looked up at me and purred, and her eyes narrowed to slits.
 
   
 

© 2001, John Francis