"So this is the deviant?" the solidly built older man in the doorway said. White hair lay across his otherwise bald pate, a comb-over if ever there was one. I felt embarrassment and a dull anger building in me at the words, and I felt shame at having been made the center of attention.

"Dad! You promised to behave," my mother stated in her best no-nonsense tone, which seemed to go unnoticed by my grandfather.

"What?" he asked indignantly. "I didn't spit on him, for crying out loud!" he muttered as he strode away from the door with a surprisingly steady and firm step.

"Don't pay him any attention, sweetie, he has been miserable since the day I met him and nothing makes him better," my grandmother leaned in closely, "but I find he's more tolerable when he's asleep."

"Mom, are you sure this is going to be ok? Suddenly I am not sure again," my mother said uncertainly.

"You know how your father is, I can handle him, and it'll be much safer for my grandson," she smiled benignly. My mother looked at me uncertainly and I couldn't really offer an opinion. It wasn't safe for me back home, in all honesty, even if my grandfather didn't like me and was going to try and make me uncomfortable here.

We were ushered, or rather shooed into the house by my grandmother and I was immediately aware of the old person influence on the house. Small lace doilies sat under each item on small half tables that dotted the hallway, hardwood floor giving off a warm, mellow glow as the sunlight bounced off. Pictures dotted the walls of children long grown and cars no longer manufactured lurked in the backgrounds. My grandfather entered the hallway, sandwich on a plate, and looked at me.

"Don't eat all the liverwurst, it's mine," he said before leaving the hallway through a door.

"Elmer, no one in the free world likes liverwurst but you, I don't think you need to be concerned," my grandmother remarked sourly, "awful stuff, makes his breath smell like the cat's behind," she muttered absently before adding, "not that I know what that smells like."

She glided serenely through the hallway, past the stairs leading upward until she reached the far end of the hall, and a stairway leading down into the basement of the house. She turned the corner and seemed to float down the stairs with grace while my mother descended before me, and I followed, lugging my suitcase and a sea bag.

"I think you'll like this room, your Uncle Edward had it for a while, just when he used to come home on leave. It was kind of fun getting it ready for real use again, of course we'll have to go shopping to find some good things to put on the walls and whatnot," she remarked in an offhanded way.

The room was expansive to say the least, a large light oak colored dresser dominated one wall directly ahead of me, and a large four poster bed that had to be three feet off the ground if it was an inch stood off to my left. An armoire stood directly across from the end of the bed, the same oak coloring as the dresser, and two matching nightstands on either side of the bed as well as a bookcase near the door. Two small windows were set in to the upper portion of the wall and they looked out across the lawn behind the house, a large lawn, which no doubt would require me mowing it.

The room was thickly carpeted and I moved to set my suitcase on the bed while my mother and grandmother chatted idly about my uncle. I returned to the car and grabbed the other two duffel bags with the rest of my worldly belongings and I turned to find my grandfather on the porch munching his sandwich and eyeing me. I felt uncomfortable under his gaze, but trudged back towards the house anyway, slowly drawing nearer. He eyed me as I approached and finally spoke.

"I suppose you like loud music, don't you? Well, no loud music. Your grandmother needs her rest, she," he was cut off by my grandmother approaching from behind.

"Can take care of herself, even if her husband hasn't realized it yet," she gave a sunny smile that he simply frowned at.

"Probably bites the heads off live chickens," he muttered as he walked away.

Such is life now, I thought to myself as I struggled with my bags through the door and headed for the downstairs room. The house was well kept inside and out, and the neighborhood looked nice enough, I guess. All the houses looked alike, at least in basic design, but inside my grandparents had made all kinds of nice touches, if you were old, anyways. I lugged my bags down the stairs while my mother and grandmother talked in hushed tones at the top of the stairs. I don't know what's worse, them whispering or my grandfather's scorn, at least he was up front.
Two more trips for boxes from the back seat and I was in my new room with all I could quickly pack of my life. Maybe I should say, my old life.

I set the bags on the bed and opened the sea bag, which contained books, for the most part. My shoulder killed me from carrying them, but I had to have them. I re-read them all the time, and in the last year they turned out to be great companions as I spent more and more time alone. I walked back and forth between the bed and the bookcase, placing one volume after another of Stephen King, Robert Jordan, and the Lord of the Rings set, of course. The simple act of doing something as simple as putting things away was helping to settle my nerves. Maybe there is something to that George Carlin routine about your stuff, where he says you grow more comfortable in a strange place if you place small personal items on the windowsills and such.

I placed my current read, Stephen King's Insomnia, on the nightstand so I could find it easily later. I then occupied myself hanging clothes, anything but thinking of why I was here.

"You better keep this place neat, we don't want bugs or mice," my grandfather grated from the doorway, "no eating in this room, either, it attracts ants." I stopped dead. I heard my mother and grandmother descending the short flight of stairs to the few rooms that were in this portion of the house.

"Elmer, stop harassing that boy!" my grandmother admonished.

"Dad, if this is going to be a problem," my mother began as once again I was relegated to the side.

"No," my grandmother said firmly, "It's not. Not one little bit."

"Don't I get a say?" my grandfather grumped.

"No, you don't get a say until you start seeing things reasonably," my grandmother intoned.

"I suppose reasonable means seeing it your way," he cracked as he made for the stairs.

"Now that you mention it, it couldn't hurt, you know!" she called out after him.

"Logan?" my mother asked, and I turned to focus on her. "I have to go, honey. I have to catch that flight."

"I know," tears threatened as I felt the back of my eyes heating up, "Mom, can't we not do this?" I whispered fiercely.

"You know there isn't any way around it. I'm sorry it has to be this way, but we'll both have to make the best of it," she hesitated, "I'm sorry, it's not like I want to leave you behind."

I merely looked down at my shoes and contained my tears, as I did more often these days. I felt my mother's arms encircle me, and I hugged her back fiercely. Then she was gone.

My grandmother walked her to the door and I slowly resumed hanging clothes, then graduated to putting the remaining items in the drawers of the armoire.

"Well, shall we go to Venture? Then to Dominick's for dinner, something special!" my grandmother half asked, half told me. I shrugged and stood to follow her.

"Now listen to me," my grandmother said firmly, "there isn't anything wrong with you, no matter what Elmer says. Have fun! You're away from the whole mess, just you and me time now!" she grinned, and I forced a smile for her.
"That's the spirit!" she smiled and I followed her up the stairs.

"Elmer, we're going out, do you want anything from Venture or Dominick's?" she asked absently.

"Disinfectant for the car would be nice, maybe some lighter flatware for the table, dunno if the princess can lift the forks we got now," he grumbled from his chair. I colored in fury and shame and my grandmother marched into the living room, I went outside instead.

I stood on the front step and brushed some stray hairs away from my eyes and took note of a couple of kids walking past, one holding a basketball, one looking like he rarely picked up a ball in his life. The second one also looked somewhat upset. The first kid also had a pup on a leash, although not a small pup, a pup nonetheless and he eagerly scrabbled forward as they walked, practically choking himself in his hurry to be first wherever they were headed. Then the dog spotted me and began to yap, straining in a new direction.

"Buddy, will you calm down?" the first boy asked the dog, who ignored him as he struggled towards me, tail wagging so hard I think it was a power source for him. I couldn't help but grin as the first boy struggled to maintain some control over the pup, and the excitement of the dog was contagious as I was smiling at his antics. Suddenly the boy lost his grip and Buddy the golden retriever was off to greet me, leash dragging behind like a brightly colored contrail.

I bent down and greeted the dog, rubbing behind the ears and scratching that spot just above the tail that seems to be a universal 'good spot' in the canine world.

"Um, sorry about that, he got away from me," the first boy said as he walked up to myself, and the wagging Buddy.

"It's, ah, ok," I replied as Buddy whirled and I lost my balance, landing flat on my ass. Buddy took full advantage and began to lick in earnest.

"Buddy! Cut it out, doofus!" the first kid said irritably to the dog, who wasn't to be denied. It was so funny, I started to laugh and Buddy barked at me in agreement.

"Oh my god, there's a dog!" my grandmother exclaimed as she exited the house.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, he just seems to like him!" the first boy answered as he finally got a grip on Buddy's collar and managed to get him off me. He handed the leash to the second boy, who looked sullen to say the least, and extended a hand to help me up.

"I'm Jake," he said as he pulled me up. I looked up at him from my spot on the sidewalk and took automatic inventory of the first boy.

I mean, cute.

I mean Jake.

His chest was showing some development, and his arms clearly showed strength. At last my eyes reached his eyes and I felt as if all I could ever want would be to drown in those eyes.

"Um, Logan," I replied as I tried to play it cool. I extended my hand to the other kid, who seemed to shake reluctantly while muttering, "Mike."

"See? I knew you'd make friends here. Maybe you should write down their phone numbers before we go out, shouldn't you?" my grandmother asked. I groaned internally. I wasn't sure what was going to be worse, my grandmother's encouragement or my grandfather's scorn. My grandmother handed me a small pad and pen from her voluminous purse, I think the Titanic is in there somewhere. I handed the pad to Jake who wrote quickly, and I might note messily as well. Mike wrote his neatly, even if he still looked like he were going to be sick.

"Here, let me write our number down," my grandmother said as she reclaimed the pad and began to write in a flowing script.

"My dad says no calls after nine," Jake smiled at me. Jeez, I hope he doesn't look at me like that all the time!
"That sounds like a good rule, same goes for us, Jacob," my grandmother said agreeably as she handed over the scrap of paper with her number. Glad she stepped in as I don't know it.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, but we have some shopping to do, so if you'll excuse us," my grandmother nodded at them, once each and proceeded to the garage. I smiled and said goodbye, Jake almost insisted we shake hands again and he promised to call later. He smiled too much, I thought to myself. I wonder if he figured me out already?

"Why are you so fast to call him? I thought you were going to stay at my house tonight?" Mike stated flatly, but I don't think I was supposed to hear and so I pretended as if I didn't hear, following in my grandmother's footsteps to the garage. So, sounds like Jake is something of a player of emotions, if I interpret Mike's words correctly. I stumbled as I considered that maybe they were dating? Couldn't be, I thought to myself, Jake is clearly a Jock and Mike is much more bookish, though definitely more built than myself, even if he seems overly attached to Jake. Maybe Mike is gay then?

I opened the passenger door when I realized my grandmother was sitting in that seat. I looked at her in confusion.

"Last time I checked you drive from the other side, Mr. Andretti," she remarked while facing forward in the car.

"I get to drive?" I a sked with all thoughts of Jake and Mike wiped out of my mind.

"Not if you just stand there and gawk, they do close the stores at some point, you know." I grinned fiercely as I ran around the other side of the car and slid into the driver's seat. I adjusted the seat, then put my seatbelt on and adjusted the rearview mirror.

As I slid the key into the ignition I stopped suddenly.

"Isn't grandpa going to be mad if I drive your car?" I asked quietly.

"Royally pissed off might be a better term. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?" she grinned, "Besides, your mother said you are a safe driver, you have your permit, no reason you shouldn't practice a little."

I started the car and backed down the short driveway.

"Go left, so your new friends can see you drive," she directed.

I looked at her quizzically.

"Status! I was a teenager once, you know. Status is for now, before you get to school on Monday so they have good things to say about you," she looked away from me and waved her hands," It makes you groovy or something."

I just grinned happily as I put the car in drive and followed her directions. We did pass Jake and Mike, although my grandmother said it was best to pretend you didn't see them, then they wouldn't think you were trying to impress them. Being seen, she explained, didn't mean making a fuss about it.

We drove along and I don't mind saying I was a little nervous, lots of people were out as it was a Friday night. I was allowed to put on the radio station of my choice, and 'Baby I Love Your Way' by Big Mountain was on. I hated that song, with a passion, and felt better about the state of Chicago radio when back-to-back Lion King songs came on. What? So I liked the movie...

We pulled into the parking lot of Venture, which looked a lot like a Target. Once inside we walked slowly, perusing the aisles and my grandmother just had to stop in the shoe section, and I thought for sure I would collect social security before we got out of there. We continued to walk, passing by various departments until we spotted a poster stand.

"Why don't you get a few posters so that the room feels a little more like your space?" she suggested. I thumbed through the posters, settling on a Tony Gwynn, who was pictured at bat in the Padres home uniform, and a Junior Seau was pictured in flight as he landed on a quarterback, lightning bolts superimposed on the picture.

"You'll find these Chicagoans are pretty fierce about their sports, I'm surprised they have teams that don't say Bears or Cubs on them, or that team...something about hose."

"Hose?"

"Yes, like the kind you put on, oh, socks maybe, not hose," she said as she waved her hands in a manner to indicate that it wasn't important.

I think my grandmother just compared the White Sox to panty hose.

We stopped at Dominick's next, which was a supermarket as it turns out. I was a little disappointed because I was hoping it was a restaurant.

"Grandma, I saw a grocery store close by the house, how come you came all the way out here?" I asked while placing the bag of potatoes she had handed me in the cart.

"Oh, you mean Jewel? I don't like that store, I prefer to go here," she stated as if going twenty minutes out of her way was no big deal. I guess I do understand, though, my mother always shopped Von's, but never Safeway. People were definitely strange, creatures of habit.

We got back home and grandpa grumped about it being past dinner-time. My grandmother ignored him and I headed down to my room. I busied myself with hanging my posters and entertaining thoughts of Jake when my grandfather opened the door.

"You know how to cook on a grill?" he asked gruffly.

"No, Grandpa," I said quietly.

"I didn't expect you did, it's a man thing," he said while closing the door.

"If you'd stop judging me for a second and give me a chance, maybe I could learn to cook on a grill," I said angrily.

The door swung back open.

"Well, get your ass out on the back porch then, class starts in five minutes," he snapped, however there was a gleam in his eye, like he was pleased that I had gotten pissed at him. He was weird.

I put my posters on the floor against the far wall and headed up to the back porch where my grandfather looked ridiculous with a white chef's hat and his head practically buried in the grill.

"Come on, you son of a bitch, light up!" he was muttering. I approached to help when there was a 'whoof' sound and suddenly my grandfather lurched backward, hat smoking and a scowl as he swatted at his face.

"Son of a whore! That's' the last GD straw! Dorothy, I want a new grill, I am going to tear this one apart bolt by bolt!" he thundered.

"What is all the noise?" my grandmother asked as she stepped out on the porch, my grandfather wheeled around and we both saw that his eyebrows were mostly gone. My grandmother covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, and he glared bloody blue murder, daring her to let even one of the aforementioned giggles out.

I lay in bed looking at the stucco style ceiling and felt strange. This place was so different from sunny San Diego, where sports occurred but weren't life and death the way Chicagoans seemed to view it. I only made one football game this year before I had to come here, but the Chargers were off to their best start in years, even talk of the postseason was being said out loud.

The clock radio in the room played softly, 'Come To My Window' by Melissa Etheredge. The song put me in mind of Jake, who I realized hadn't called. Maybe he decided to be nice to Mike and stay over like he had promised? Oh well, I drifted off to thoughts of Jake coming to my window.

The weekend passed quickly, too quickly. The room was a little more familiar to me, although not home by any stretch, and I didn't see Jake or Mike at all. I have to admit being a little disappointed, but not too much. Ok, maybe more than I want to admit, how's that?

Monday brought my first day of school, and my grandmother and I went in to register me. I brought my book for the boring stretches and needed it often in the guidance office, seems they wanted to go over all my school records with my grandma. Like, one day at a time. After about three chapters I was handed a schedule and they summoned someone to give me a small tour of the school.

"Logan Davis, this is Carl Lawson, he will show you to your locker and your classrooms, just a small tour of Rich East High School," Mr. Bergdorf, the guidance counselor for my set of letters told me. This office divided the last names into a few groups as the school was so large. The kid that stood before me was incredibly tall, slim to the point of being skinny, with glasses and a St. Louis Cardinals hat perched on his head.

"Hi," he said amiably and I took his hand in a brief handshake, "C'mon, I'll show you around."

"Thanks," I replied and followed him to the door.

"Do you think you could at least say goodbye, I'll see you tonight?" My grandmother's slightly irritated voice sounded from behind me. I stopped dead, reddening far past the collar of my shirt, I am sure. I turned slowly, catching Carl's grin at my expense to spot my grandmother in one of those, 'what did I do?' expressions.

"Did I embarrass you? Oh, geez, I am so sorry," she grinned.

"See you tonight, Grandma," I mumbled.

"This school is kind of big, two or three junior highs send their kids here," Carl said by way of conversation,"Where are you from?"

"San Diego," I replied.

"Why the hell did you move out here?" Carl exclaimed.

"I wasn't given a great deal of choice," I replied dryly.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Um, what's your locker number?" and I fished out the slip of paper with my locker number and combination.

"Three thirty three," I replied.

"Pretty much in the middle," Carl commented as we made way to my locker. After opening it and placing my book into the small space, he started with my first class and basically walked me through my whole day, showing me where each classroom was and telling me scraps of information about my teachers.

"Miller, he was in the Army, right? He says all kinds of things to gross you out, like how he gets up at night when he's hungry and gets out this huge bowl of leftover spaghetti, then he mixes in mayonnaise to 'add flavor' he says," Carl made a face and I joined him as we both made sounds of disgust.

"Then you got Powell, who we call Fish Lips, wait'll you see the guy, his face really does look like a fish," he sniggered.

"Plus you got Swanson for art, everyone knows he's queer, even saw him with his boyfriend before," Carl continued matter of factly. I didn't make any outward response and the tour continued, although that silence was a bit loud.

The bell rang and Carl escorted me to the cafeteria and advised me as to which foods were closest to edible. We had just exited the lunch line when I heard my name echo in the half full cafeteria.

"Logan! Carl, bring him over here!" Carl just waved and threaded his way over to a table where Jake sat next to a sullen looking Mike.

"Hey, guys, I guess you know this is Logan," Carl said by way of introduction. Jake fixed me with a curious look, one that made me feel like a newly discovered insect under a microscope. I looked down at my food, no need to get another situation like I had out west.

"Liking what you find here, Logan?" Mike asked with a distinct edge to his voice.

"Um, it's ok, I guess," I replied. Mike definitely did not like me, really bad vibes coming off him in huge waves, I just wish I knew why.

"You play basketball?" Jake asked, eyes sparkling. Oh, I do wish he'd stop looking at me like that!

"A little, I prefer to read usually," I replied.

"Usually guys who read all the time look a little small, but you look like you play some sports," Jake observed and was jabbed in the ribs by Mike. Ok, this whole thing is a little weird here.

"What?" Jake grunted, "I was just hoping to play with him after school," he said. I choked on my pizza, coughing it out on the plate amidst Mike telling Jake he was an asshole and Carl laughing at the double-ended statement.
Jake just tried hard to make like he was innocent, but I was beginning to see a pattern here. He was god damn cute, no question, but he also had a streak of cockiness that made me think no one had ever said no to him. I mean, he obviously could get places on appearances, but at this point I'd swear he was flirting. I wish I had been able to pay attention as to what explanation Mike had given for Jake being an asshole, unless he was just referring to Jake's ability to get me to swallow my pizza into my lungs.

Lunch ended and as luck would have it, I had Jake in my next class. He had me sit with him and then proceeded to flirt the whole way through class! He was making me distinctly uncomfortable and aroused at the same time. I know that sounds weird, but let me try and explain. Jake was really, really attractive. Muscular, but not muscle bound. You know the kind I mean, so many muscles that their arms stick out vertically when at rest? Jake wasn't like that, but so far all he had shown me was that he was self centered and thought he could get what he wanted by smiling.

I don't think so.

If I was reading him right, that is. Maybe he just usually looks like he is coming on to guys.

My next class was devoid of Jake and Carl, no Mike either, but my Science class was another story altogether, as the only seat left open in the room was right next to Mike.

"Hi," I said quietly.

"Hey," he replied.

"Ok if I sit here?"

"Not much choice, I guess," he replied.

I sat and gave Mike his space, he obviously didn't like me and since the whole idea was for me to disappear in this school and not have a repeat of my west coast existence, as I liked to call it, I decided not to press Mike as to why he disliked me so intensely.

Needless to say this made the class slightly uncomfortable. Handouts were given to me coldly and with no words being said. I am not sure what is worse, verbal taunting and physical harm, or being treated as if you don't exist.
I resolved to not let my annoyance get the better of me and returned his silence measure for measure. At last the class ended and Mike bolted from the room and I hoped it wasn't because of me, but I guess I couldn't control that, could I?

My last class was gym, and I began to feel distinctly uncomfortable not long after arriving. I was issued my uniform, paid for by my grandmother that morning, and assigned a locker. The locker room was pretty big, and even worse was that it wasn't separated by grade, but by when you could fit gym into your schedule. This could be an advantage if you were into a little voyeurism, but I tried to keep my eyes to myself so as to avoid repeating my own mistakes.

"Hey, you're in this class with me? Cool!" came the unmistakable voice of Jake. I turned to face him and nearly had my breath taken away as his locker was opposite mine, and he was clad only in his boxers. Don't look!

"Hey, I was going to sign up for wrestling today, want to join me?" he asked. I don't think so!

"I dunno, what else is there?" I asked, willing myself to push aside images of Jake and me wrestling together.

"Um, basketball, next week starts floor hockey, there is some open spots for that left," he replied, looking a little hurt that his first suggestion wasn't taken up on.

"Basketball sounds ok, I guess," I replied. He grinned and stated he'd sign us up and then show me how to get up to the gym. I finished changing in relative peace, and I have to admit it was nice that Jake would show me around a bit. I'd feel better if I didn't feel like I was stealing Mike's boyfriend though, and I wish Jake could show just a little bit of emotion. Not a lot, just a little.

Jake showed me upstairs and we got in line for attendance.

"Late again, Wagner, two points off. One more and you have detention," the coach intoned. I felt the need to defend Jake on this matter, since it was because he was helping me that he was in trouble.

"Coach? Um, It's not really his fault he was late," I began and was cut off.

"First off, who are you?" the coach asked.

"Logan Davis, coach," I replied.

"Well, Mr. Davis, I'm Coach Jennings, and if you are late to my class and not bleeding from several places, you get points off, which leads to detention," he sneered.

"But Coach, he was just showing me how to get to the gym," I replied, unbelieving of his attitude.

"Like I said, in case you missed it, twerp, it doesn't matter to me. You get here on time or don't bother showing. Either way, your butt is mine. Got that, junior?" he muttered to me, close enough that I think only Jake and I might have heard. I was too dumbstruck to do anything but nod.

Needless to say, the first day was an eye opener, the coach being someone I wanted to avoid as much as possible. I climbed on the bus to go home, thank god the route number was written on my schedule by my guidance counselor, and as luck would have it the only seat left was next to the ice prince.

"You mind if I sit with you, Mike?" I asked. He nodded and looked out the window. I sat down with my backpack, and removed my book in order to read on the bus ride. I was a couple of paragraphs into the chapter when I noted Mike, from the corner of my eye, attempting to read the title of the book. I tilted the book for him to see, and he colored a bit at being caught.

"You like Stephen King?" I asked. A small bead of sweat stood out on Mike's forehead, and in my twisted mind it reminded me of ice melting.

"I really don't get into horror as much, I like mysteries and non-fiction stuff. How can you read about monsters and stuff?" he asked. Careful, Mike, I might think you're human if you keep this up!

"Well, when he says something that no person in their right mind should be happy doing, like one line might be, 'he could have cheerfully strangled her at that moment', shit like that is funny," I replied.

"Yeah, I could cheerfully strangle a few people," Mike replied as he looked back out the window.

"Mike, I dunno what's up, but, um," I fought with myself for a moment, I really didn't want to get myself involved, but on the other hand I could make a friend here, "if you want to hang out or something, you know where I am." He snorted in reply and froze over again, the moment lost.

"Logan! Hey, man, that was your stop!" Jake alerted me as he appeared at my side.

"Oh shit, you're kidding me?" I said as I stood.

"Our stop is next, it's only a few blocks walk back," the blond haired kid behind Jake replied. I realized the kids that were getting off on this stop were all lined up in the aisle.

"Oh, ok, good. I really don't know my way around yet," I replied.

"It's not hard," Jake said with a smile, and Brian seemed to nudge him, though it could have been the swaying of the bus.

The bus pulled up and I stood with my backpack slung over one shoulder and my book tucked under one arm. I was let into the aisle and promptly swept to the front of the bus, and out the door.

"Hey, you want to come over for a few minutes? Our house is just down there," Jake asked me suddenly.

"Our?" I asked as I noted Mike looking more and more distant.

"Yeah, Brian is my brother, so we live together," Jake replied. I looked from him to Brian and back again. They looked nothing alike.

"I got the looks," Brian said with a smirk and started to walk away. Mike walked with him and appeared deep in conversation, occasional glances being shot back at us as I walked with Jake.

"So, how'd your first day go?" he asked.

"Fine, Mom," I replied with a smile.

"I was just asking, jeez," Jake replied.

We walked in relative silence to his house, a townhouse, and walked into the cool, dark environment. The drapes were drawn to help ward off the heat and the house appeared relatively cave like.

"I should call my grandma, let her know where I am," I told Jake.

"Ok, phone is over there," he replied.

"I, ah, don't know the number," I grumbled.

"Oh, I got it here," Jake said as he removed the paper form his wallet. I thanked him and went to the phone in the living room and lifted the receiver as Jake headed out of the room. As I put the receiver to my ear I heard a voice thanking someone for calling a book store, and how could they help them? I was about to reply when I heard a voice, Brian it sounded like, asking for Matt Rosato.

"This is Matt, Brian, what's up?" came the voice. I was about to hang up, I certainly wouldn't like to be eavesdropped on, but there was something fun about hearing someone else's conversation.

"We're home, and Jake brought home his latest crush," Brian giggled into the phone and that was quickly followed by a small, flat sound and Brian giggling some more.

"So I guess you are calling for permission, now that he is there?" Matt said dryly.

"Yeah," Brian agreed.

"Ok, I'll be home in about an hour and a half, don't burn the house down," Matt's voice intoned and then they hung up. Jake's latest crush? I heard footsteps approaching and quickly depressed the button on the phone to hang it up, then turned it on and dialed.

"What?" my grandfather barked into the phone.

"It's me, grandpa," I replied as Brian sat across from me on the couch.

"What do you want? If you missed the bus you have to walk, I'm not wasting the gas because you screwed up," he warned.

"I'm at a friend's house, I just wanted to let you know, and I'll be home soon," I managed.

"Oh. You found other deviants already?" he asked, strangely enough it had no venom, almost like the way people used to refer to blacks as 'colored' as merely a description, as if they knew of no impoliteness attached to the word.

"Grandpa! Jeez, I'll be home in a little bit, ok?"

"Sure, sure, no need to get all pissy about it," he replied before hanging up. Jesus, that man was going to kill me.

Buddy bounded into the room and greeted me with enthusiasm and Jake wasn't far behind him, guzzling a glass of milk.

"Since Jake isn't going to ask, you want something to drink, Logan?" Brian asked.

"Hey, I was just going to ask, he was on the phone!" Jake whined, which was kind of cute. Stop thinking like that!

"Logan, you want something to drink?" Jake asked.

"Um, no, thanks."

"Come on, I'll show you my room," Jake said and Brian fixed him with a look but said nothing. I stood and followed Jake to the kitchen and then down a flight of stairs to the basement. His room was pretty messy in contrast to mine and I spotted no books of any sort.

"Welcome to my kingdom," Jake said expansively.

"Your kingdom has odd decorations," I replied wryly while lifting a shirt off his lamp, only to find a pair if shorts with resident underwear inside them hidden underneath.

"Um, yeah, Dad says I have to clean the room today," he said with a grin. I sat on his bed and he grabbed a few clothes up and put them in the hamper in his room, which made a big difference.

"You want to play some basketball?" he asked.

"Um, I don't know, who else is going to play?" I asked, deliberately not watching, or trying not to as Jake changed from his school clothes in front of me. I felt myself rising to the occasion, and stood up in order to be more comfortable, and in doing so looked around the room for something to make conversation with, anything to get my mind off his body!

"Wow, lots of trophies," I turned and he was no more than a foot away, clad only in boxers, "They are real...smooth," I felt my face flush as I made a Freudian slip, "I mean, it's funny how all of these, um, trophy guys are so smooth," I recovered lamely.

Jake moved closer and I began to grow nervous, and he slowly reached for me and a door banged closed.

"Guys! Who left this mess in the kitchen!" called out a voice.

"Oh shit, Dad's here," Jake grinned and moved in closer. I moved away quickly as a man came down the stairs. He was dressed in jeans and work boots, shirt vainly trying to hold in all the muscle under the fabric.

"Jake? Clean up your mess, man." He then extended his hand to me, " I don't think I know you, I'm Tim McGraw," he smiled.

"Sorry, Dad, I'll clean it up right now," Jake said as he flew up the stairs.

"You are their dad?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's me," Tim replied with a grin. He released my hand, which had been entirely engulfed in his and invited me upstairs.

The man I had heard on the phone had said his name was Matt, and Brian called him Dad. Jake called this guy Dad, so maybe that explains that he and Brian don't look alike?

My thoughts were jumbled as I followed Tim upstairs, I was definitely thrown off by Jake's strong advances.

"Hi, Dad," Brian said as he entered the kitchen just as we came up from the basement. Why was Brian calling him Dad too? Just what the hell was going on here?

"Hi, Brian, how was school?" Tim asked as he headed to the fridge.

"Ok, I guess, I just wish I knew more people," Brain said morosely.

"Well, looks like you met Logan, here," Tim answered, head buried in the fridge.

"Yeah, that's true," Brain said, though he didn't sound relieved at all.

"Has Matt called?" Tim asked from the depths of the fridge.

"I called him when we got home, he said he'll be here in about an hour," Brian replied, "I'm going to do my homework," and he left the room.

I stood in shock, were Matt and Tim a couple? They must be, or could be. Which means that everyone in this house would know about that, and didn't care. Jake sidled up to me in my stupor and invited me to play one on one with him. I suddenly was reminded of my discomfort at his strong advances.

"I don't think so, I better go," I replied. Jake looked disappointed and responded immediately.

"You can call your grandparents, the hoop is pretty close to your house," he began, words coming out with more speed the more he said.

"No, no, I have to go, please, I have to go home." The thought of being near Jake was bringing me to near panic and I felt confined.

Jake spread out his arms, as if to ask what's wrong silently, but the scowl on his face told me even more. He didn't understand why I wouldn't want to be alone with him. I grabbed my book bag, muttered a goodbye to Tim, and headed out the door. Fortunately, Jake was still clad in his boxers and couldn't follow. In fact, I heard one of Jake's two dads telling him to put some clothes on.

I walked quickly back to the main street, then turned left back the way the bus had come from school. I vaguely recognized the neighborhood, so many looked alike around here. I was on the verge of panic and tears when a familiar voice startled me.

"What are you, lost?"

I turned to the sound of the voice and saw Mike, the ice prince, on a bike.

"I," I stumbled as the realization of what had happened between him and Jake hit me between the eyes, "Yes, I'm so lost," I said in a near whisper.

"You ok?" Mike asked me quietly.

"No, not really, I don't think I feel too well at all," I replied as I felt more and more dazed. Jake and Mike had been lovers. That's why Mike hated me.

"I don't hate you," Mike said softly.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"You said that I hate you, I don't," Mike said hesitantly, "It's just that Jake and I were...pretty close, I thought. Now he really doesn't talk to me."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"It's not really your fault, I guess," he replied, "You need some help getting home?"

 

Mike was still pretty much the ice prince with me, but he thaws out more and more often, and he's actually pretty neat. Then there is Jake.

Jake has been around me almost non-stop, and even though it makes me nervous, I don't really hate it. I try to avoid being alone with him, I don't want to make the same mistake twice, but he seems so nice sometimes it's really hard not to just kiss him, or something else equally stupid. Like giving in and going to his house, like he asks. But I know what will happen, and I really am attracted to Jake, but I refuse to give in to him, just on attraction, next time there has to be more.

Next time there has to be love.

On another note, equally disturbing, this girl likes me, and she is practically stalking me. She and I met in math class, which I hate, and she sits next to me. She started to talk to me, blushing all the while, and all I could think was 'why me?' She followed me everywhere, I was thankful I had Jake in my lunch since she refused to come close when Jake was around. I wonder if he played her too?

Jake totally played off his being so aggressive at his house, in fact it was like it never happened. He continued to act as if he was my best buddy, and I have to admit it was working a little.

"Logan? Hey, you want to hang out at my house after school?" Jake asked me a couple of weeks later, a Thursday afternoon actually. I'll be honest, I was afraid. I didn't entirely trust myself around him alone, and being at his house, maybe near his bed, had me nervous of a repeat performance. I was sort of interested in going to his house too, though, I wanted to see his two dads.

"I dunno, my Gram has chores for me after school and stuff," I began.

"Oh, well, maybe tomorrow then?" he asked.

"I don't know, man," I replied as we got closer to the bus.

"Logan," he said while steering me out of the path of kids and under a tree in front of the school, "I'm sorry if I said or did something to you."

"What makes you think that?" I asked neutrally.

"'Cause you seem like you're afraid of me or something, and I always screw things up, so I figured I should say something, even if I don't know for sure what I did," he smiled a little smile, a hopeful one. "Better to do that than have you stop being my friend, right?" Jesus, that smile.

"Logan! Logan, I'm having a movie night at my house, do you think you could come over? I can give you my number," Pam exclaimed as she bounced up to me. She receded when she spotted Jake, maybe even snarled a bit.

"Well, jeez, I'd like to but I was just invited over to Jake's," I responded. Her face clouded over like a thunderhead.

"Jake got to you too?" she fairly sneered and Jake exploded.

"We're through, Pam! Leave me and my friends alone!" He pushed past her and I followed in his wake, anything to be away from Pam. Things made sense now, though, Jake and Pam must have dated at one time, and she was still mad.

I sat next to Brian on the bus, Jake being in a foul mood as it was.

"What was that?" Brian asked me.

"Pam got mad at Jake," I replied.

"She has been mad at him for a year and a half," Brian muttered.

"Why is that?" I asked nonchalantly.

"They broke up," Brian said slowly, "she didn't like it too much."

"Oh," I replied.

"So I guess Jake apologized?" Brian ventured.

"Yeah, sort of."

"He's not really good at apologies. He's a good guy though, sincerely."

"I like him, I like him a lot," I said with a hint of uncertainty.

"But?" Brian asked.

"But," I faltered, "I don't know," I finished weakly.

Jake was so mad about the Pam incident he didn't notice me get off on my own stop, and for that I am kind of thankful. I walked home and unlocked the front door.

"Close that door, we have the AC on," my grandfather grumped.

"Yes, Grandpa," I replied.

"How was school, Logan?" my grandmother asked as I headed for the stairs heading down to my room.

"Ok, nothing to write home about," I replied, descending the steps. The phone rang upstairs and I heard my grandmother answer. I took off my shirt and then toed off my sneakers to remove my jeans, slipping on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt.

My grandmother appeared in my doorway, with a small knock on the door, "Logan, the phone is for you," she said with a smile, "it's Jake."

"Hello?" I asked.

"I thought you said you were coming over," Jake said with disappointment clear in his voice.

"Well, you were upset," I replied uncertainly.

"I'm over it, can we still hang out?" he asked. I groaned internally, knowing what my answer was already.

"Ok."

We played basketball till the sky began to turn dark, and it was competitive. Some kids joined in a little while after we got there and the games were over my head, for the most part, but I played hard anyway, I needed the exercise if I wanted to keep Jake interested.

Jesus, I don't believe I just thought that!

We were both worn out by the time the last game ended, and I was pretty sure the skin on my big toes was hanging on by threads at this point. Jake threw his arm over my shoulders companionably as we walked to my house, and I was burning with desire for him.

His slicked skin moved across my bare shoulders, as both of us had removed our shirts while playing, and the heat of his combined with the smooth sliding motion created by our walking was driving me to distraction. We approached my house and I invited him in, even though the rational part of me was screaming not to.

"Ah, the prodigal grandson returns!" my grandmother admonished, "Dinner is cooling in the kitchen for you." I cringe inside, I had forgotten to eat dinner!

"I'm sorry, it was my fault, I kept asking him to play one more game," Jake spoke and I looked at him, that was a total lie!

"Well, don't do that, or at least call," she smiled.

"Yes, ma'am," Jake replied. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Of course, the door on your left, bottom of the stairs," my grandmother indicated.

Jake thundered downstairs and I was left to face my grandmother.

"He was lying," she remarked. I nodded.

"He did it to keep you out of trouble," she stated again. I nodded once more.

"He has nice eyes, and a smile that could charm birds from the trees, better keep your eye on that one," she smiled again as she walked away. My jaw dropped.

I headed downstairs with two cokes and nearly ran into Jake coming out from the bathroom.

"Here you go, sweat-ball," I said with a grin. At least he had put his shirt back on.

"This your room?" he gestured towards my open doorway and I felt nervous again.

"Yeah," I said, opening the door all the way and turning on the light.

"Oh, cool, it's big," he said as he sat on my bed. On my bed!

"Yeah, I like having a lot of space," I replied, ignoring the double meaning of his comment.

"I've never seen a bed so high off the ground before, I wonder why they built it like that?" he mused as he stood and looked at my books, "Jeez, like to read much?"

"All the time, I love to read," I replied.

"Well, I should get home," he said as he turned and approached me, once more moving to within a foot or two, "It was cool, we should play together again."

"Um, yeah," I managed. He leaned in closer to me and I leaned in just a bit, he smiled and that broke it.

"No, no I can't do this!" I said, stepping away from him.

"What? What's wrong?" Jake asked.

"You...Me, no, I need for you to go," I said nervously.

"I...I'm sorry, Logan, please" he sighed deeply, "please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad...yes, yes, I am," I whirled on him, "You think you can just have what you want, don't you?"

"I don't understand," Jake said, face blank.

"Pam, Mike, and now me," I replied, "You smiled just a second ago, like it was you winning something, not like you were happy about it being me you were about to," I choked, "to kiss." Jake moved closer to me and I backed away.

"Let me explain first, don't just throw me away," Jake asked, a pleading in his voice that I tried desperately to make myself deaf to.

"Look, this is what went on, but I guess it's not really an excuse," Jake said as he sat on the bed, "I met Brian a couple of years ago, in junior high school," he began.

"I thought you were brothers?" I asked.

"We are, I'll get to that," he said softly, "my dad broke up with my mom, 'cause he said he was gay," he took a deep breath, "and I hated him for that. My mom used to hit me for any little thing, I couldn't breathe the right way for her.

"Brian was like, this totally great friend who listened to me and really cared that I was hurting inside, even if I didn't really show it except to get mad," he sighed deeply and looked away from me, "I'm not the best with emotional stuff. Brian and I got real close, we messed around and stuff, and they all treated me like they wanted me there after my mom beat me and I had no place to go. They took me in, they gave me food and clothes and," he stopped short for a minute, "they loved me." The last thought was almost as if it just occurred to him for the first time how much had been handed to him, unconditionally.

"Anyway, that's when Pam and I broke up. She thinks it was because me and Brian, well, were a couple and stuff. We weren't, just real close. And as far as Mike, I love Mikey. He's a good guy, but he won't let me breathe.

"It's like we have to be around each other all the time, like I'm not allowed to do anything without him there to watch or something," he sighed.

"Have you...talked to him about that?" I asked.

"Not really," he said while pressing against the inner part of his eyes with the tips of his fingers, a sign of stress.

"Maybe you should, I think Mike is pretty upset," I replied as I sat next to him.

"I know, I guess maybe I have never really done what I needed to, except for Brian," he said.

"So, why aren't you with him then?" I asked gently.

"We decided we should just be like brothers, it's too much for us to be more than that," Jake trailed off while getting a growing look of horror on his face, "Oh, Please don't tell anyone what I said, I don't know why I just told you all that. Well, I do, I don't want to lose you as a friend, but please don't say anything!"

"Calm down, I won't," I replied evenly. Jake slumped in relief.

"That was a big risk you just took," I said quietly.

"I know," he mumbled.

"I think you should go talk to Mike," I told him, feeling as though I would lose him if they worked it out. If it was meant to be, maybe he'd come back to me though.

"I will. Are you...would you ever..." he stuttered, vulnerable at the moment.

"If I thought I meant more than just something you lust for, yeah," I replied, face coloring, "at least I know you have a heart now."

"I'll give it to you," Jake said so softly I almost didn't hear him.

I looked at him long and hard, my heart doing flips and my chest feeling as though it were filled with helium. I wanted to keep him, lord knows I do.

"Do what you need to do first, for you and Mike. Maybe if you can get your head clear on that, maybe if you can learn to talk to people like you did now, maybe I wouldn't be so afraid of you," I replied.

"Why would you be afraid of me? I'd never hurt you!" he said in a shocked voice.

"If I gave in to you, and then you acted like you do with Mike, I couldn't take it. I've been there already, and I can't do that again, it would break me," I said with conviction.

Jake looked at me and slowly nodded his head, "I want to have the chance to make you happy. I'll find a way, I promise," he said softly and stood to go. I walked him to the door and stood out front on the stoop.

"I'll keep my promise, I'm not like my biological dad, he doesn't keep promises."

"You know where to find me," I said. He smiled, and for the first time I think it was a genuine smile that showed no calculation or triumph, just happiness. That was the Jake I wanted. I pulled him to me quickly and kissed him, relishing the soft feel of his lips and his body heat. I pushed away from him and went inside the house, leaning back on the closed door.

"Well? Taste good?" my grandfather scoffed from his chair, the one right next to the window.

"Yeah, it was great, grandpa," I replied with a smile, "Just what I wanted."

"Author's Note"

This story was was something that popped into my head, but after the first few pages I had shelved it, but when Nick told me of the site anniverary, I couldn't resist writing what was jokingly called Logan's Run. I'd like to thank you for reading and I'd also like to congratulate Nick Archer on his second anniversary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dabeagle