While Robby remained distracted with our Junior English class, getting all the boys to dress up for the female roles in Shakespearean drama, the band business became more time-consuming for Michael, Hippie and me. I complicated matters by turning the Out-Crowd social status group into a commercial oldies bands, specializing in parties for the younger teen crowd. As older musicians (at 16), we had to carry the band as the youngsters (John, Dave, Jazz, Jenna, Stu and Mike) learned to play well enough to perform. Michael spent most of his time with the Out-Crowd, helping Jenna harmonize with Stu and Mike Jr. The Jacettes also helped with vocals and the dancing. I wanted to work with John, so I had him playing rhythm guitar, hoping some of Jace’s talent was genetic. He caught on by watching my playing. Jace tried to guide his hands, but John freaked out when he felt someone touching his hands. Jace’s presence made others feel eerie and spooky. I knew if I told anyone I was able to see and communicate with Jace, they would chalk it up to my emotionally unstable personality. Even Robby wasn’t sure I wasn’t just projecting. John learned by watching the chords I played and mimicking my fingering. His ear was good enough to tell if he hit the notes or not. He preferred that I mouth the chord changes for him. Needing to be sure, he would go into Spec’s Music and practice songs from sheet music. He wasn’t ready to play by ear but it was cute to see him sitting in the corner at Spec’s playing from the sheet music. Only I could see Jace perched next to him and murmuring affirmation or correction as he played the songs we knew so well. Because we were a local performing band, Spec’s let us practice at the store. Soon John had his own junior high groupies who sat around listening to him play or learning new songs. They would sing the words softly, encouraging him to sing with them. These were all pop songs, so everyone knew the lyrics and music. He was still living at Stu’s and continued to swim at the University, although he was at the bottom of the B team. He and Mike double-teamed Stu when Stu pestered anyone too much. John was busy and staying out of trouble.
I asked him if he would ever go to live at his mom’s house.
“I’ll never go back there. They killed Jace.”
He only spoke about Jace with me. Because I was over the crying jags that used to overwhelm me, he could let his feelings come out a little. With everyone else, he was pretty remote. With all the girl attention, I thought he would find a steady, but he played it cool. They all seemed pretty immature, anyway.
We had to schedule Out-Crowd rehearsal around their busy lives, which left us little time to work on False Gods songs, Hippie was doing the same coaching with Jazz on the bass and Michael was bringing Dave up to speed on the drums. They played together on the double set. When Robby was there, Michael let Dave play his set, sitting there giving Dave pointers. All this Out-Crowd rehearsing allowed Michael to spend lots of time with Jenna. To keep her virginal, one of her older brothers, Guido, was appointed manager of the Out-Crowd. He kept a sharp eye on her. We plied him with pot, supplied by Robby, who made him pay as he was 20, an adult, a paying client. With unlimited beers and plentiful pot, he was mostly a space case, leaving Michael plenty of opportunities to sneak around with Jenna for a quick make out session. I was jealous that he was getting to do what Jace and I had done but no longer physically could. I got even with wet dreams but was having to buy so many rubbers, that Susan actually asked me if I was sneaking girls up to my room when she found about twenty used condoms in my trash. I was still immature enough to turn bright red.
“You can tell me about girlfriends, if you want,” she suggested. No way, Jose.
My dad was building a positive reputation as advocate for the need to have guns in your home. He made me travel to several NRA conventions where he spoke and I had to answer questions about our ‘incident.’ I acted the loving, hero-worshiping son, but after the second show, I told him I couldn’t keep bringing up that nightmare.
“It’s okay, Timmy. People pretty much know the story now. I can carry the show myself.”
He had reverted to calling me Timmy again.
Guido actually got off his ass and booked several Quinceanera parties for Winter break. It was still a month away. I hoped that the younger players would be proficient enough to actually do the show by themselves. I decided we’d have a birthday party for Michael who was to turn 16 in late January. Rather than book a hall, Mike Sr said we could have the party in the music room and only invite a limited guest list. Robby wanted to invite our entire English class, so I told him they could only come if they performed a portion of our play. Jace signed that he’d teach me to play new music to go with the play and looked happier than usual. That incentive set Robby off on obsessive rewriting of Shakespeare’s words and meaning with daily rehearsals during English class. I complained I didn’t have time to play Titania anymore, but he acted all turned on by my appearance in a dress. Whatever. The Jacettes asked if their parents could attend the party, so all parents from both bands were invited. Mike Sr. realized he would have to host the adults while we entertained the kids. Even a caterer was arranged. After looking at the guest list, I realized there were no kids to test the enthusiasm for the new band. I asked the Jacettes to bring their younger siblings that were at least 10 and Stu asked if the swim team kids on the B team could come. We finally cut off the list at 100, not the intimate gathering I hoped for the Out-Crowd’s maiden outing. Mike Sr. was happy to host the Lombardi family in response to Jenna’s New Year’s party. At least there wouldn’t be 500 kids there.
Intrepid Cub reporter Jimmy Olsen came by and said he had a project for False Gods. A photographer had shot several rolls of 16 mm color film at Viscaya and wanted to produce a film with the band. That was more exciting than the kids show and certainly better than high school Shakespeare. They wanted us to view the footage and think about how to make sense of it all, plus record the songs he had on 16 mm. I looked at Jace and he gave me his unhappy face. He signed that it reminded of the week he died when we did the memorial. He hugged me and I brushed away his wispy tears. I looked up and saw that everyone was staring at me.
“What? I’m just thinking about Jace and signing to him.”
They all were spooked by this behavior, thinking I had lost my marbles. At least, I didn’t cry over the least thing now.
Robby defended me, “Well, did he sign back?”
“Yeah, it makes him sad.”
All the girls burst into tears.
“Well, we’re doing it. I’m over crying. We’ll play all his favorite songs, starting with Pink Floyd. Y’all can cry your hearts out on film, and then all this gloom needs to stop.”
The girls rushed over and hugged me, ‘the lunatic on the grass.’ Flo stuck her hand into the back of my jeans and snapped my underwear waist band.
“Ow, that really hurts.” And we broke up laughing.
I brought my SG guitar to school with the practice amp and announced in English class that I was composing music to go with our performance. Robby sulked that I was getting out of having to be in a dress.
“Well, I’m also against the boys having all the roles.”
One of the girls piped up, “Why don’t you let us play the male roles?”
“What is this, a revolution?” Robby countered this attack on his authority.
I had plugged in my guitar and started play the Beatles’ ‘Revolution.’
“You say you want a revolution…
You say you got a real solution
Well, you know
We’d all love to see the plan”
LENNON, JOHN / MCCARTNEY, PAUL
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
“All right, all right.’ Robby gave in. “All the girls can dress as boys. That’s as far as I can go. Shakespeare never allowed girls on stage.”
This appeased them and they started making plans on looking butch.
Soon the boys were running through scenes. I let Jace totally take over and he produced eerie entrance music and flying solos for them to dance around their king and queen. Robby was listening and smiling at me. He reassigned Titania’s role to this sad boy who never thought he’d get picked. He perked up and actually already knew my lines.
“Remember,” Robby told him, “you’re the understudy. Tim is the original Titania.”
“Who’s going to play guitar if I have to act,” I argued.
“You can get Jace to do it,” he answered, winking at me.
“I’ll play the role just as you do, Tim,” the understudy assured me.
“No, you have to find your own inner Titania.”
Mr. Clark looked so pleased. The boy ran over to the wig case and had the hardest time choosing his own wig.
That night, Jimmy and the photographer brought over the filmed footage. The music room was set up as a movie theater. We watched over two hours of footage. No single song was fully filmed. It was only video; there was no audio. I realized that was best, as we could control the sound. The ‘Woodstock’ film had come out and chaotic crowd shots made the performance seem real, live. I got all excited and realized we had put together an excellent performance, something that would be permanent. Music was so ephemeral, especially live shows. I looked over at Jace. He was sulking in the corner. I opened my arms to him, signing that the possibilities made me happy.
“It was the first time you played without me.”
I instantly felt his sadness. “No, you were playing me playing you.”
He laughed, and I had his permission.
Again everyone was looking oddly at me.
“This will not be a memorial; it will be a tribute. He taught us how to really play from our hearts and souls. We can recreate the experience.”
“The Jace Experience,” Robby called it.
“Yes,” we all cried.
There were lots of details to be sorted out, not the least were the royalties that would have to be paid for all the copyrighted songs. It was decided to negotiate the rights, but only pay them if the film makes it to commercial distribution. A whole discussion made me realize how complicated the business part was going to be. I looked at Mike Sr. We went outside to discuss the project.
“I think I’m over my head with this project, but I want to do it.”
“I’ll find someone to oversee the business end through my office.”
“Well, at least no one will fuck with us.”
He didn’t smile at my joke. “I think they’re saying they will test the waters for the film’s appeal, probably submitting it for consideration at Cannes. If it gets that far, we’ll need big money or studio backing.”
“You offered to buy us a sound board and I told you we wanted to be raw and free, no production values added. Well, we’ll have to have a recording studio and professional editing and mixing.”
“I think Mr. Lombardi and I can swing that here locally. You may have to call it Jace’s Tribute dedicated to Jenna and Michael.”
Jace looked pleased for the first time.
I gave Mike Sr. a big hug.
He didn’t shrug me off for the first time. “No crying.”
“I’m over that.”
“Thank God,” and he hugged me back. I was waiting for the Godfather bacio della morte, but I was safe so far.
I walked back in and got everyone to vote on the project. It was unanimous except for Iggy who complained he was excluded. We agreed to make a Iggy (the real one) tribute as an extra short. It was unanimous. I told the photographer that Mike Sr.’s office would handle all the contracts and we would start rehearsing in a recording studio, so we’d be ready to film shortly. We all cheered and went off to Sorrento’s to celebrate. Jace was sitting on my lap rinsing my ear with wispy spit. Mike Sr. excused himself for five minutes so Robby could get us all stoned. Intrepid Jimmy looked like a cat in the canary store when he got baked. I realized I had three music projects going on without even thinking how I’d manage each separately..
Jace wiggled his butt so I got instantly hard. Flo looked right through him, saw the full bulge and choked on her pizza. She grabbed my hand and led me into the ladies. We passed Mike Sr. as I was dragged into the loo. He just shook his head. Flo had me by one hand and Jace was holding me by the other. It was crowded in the stall, so Jace sat on the top of the divider. Flo looked me in the eye, then at my bulging jeans and put her finger to her lips. Jace mimicked her. I burst out laughing while she pulled down my jeans to me knees.
“I’ve needed to see what it looked like with your pants down.”
“My dick or me?” I asked.
“Your crazy briefs, fool.”
I laughed and she snapped the waistband from the front, a pleasurable pain until it hit my dick as it poked out of the garish briefs.
“Oh, that hurt.”
“Let me kiss it better, baby.”
Jace howled and lost his balance, falling into the next stall. I panicked, thinking he was leaving me alone with Flo, in clear violation of our sex pact. Then I saw him looking up at me from under the divider, getting a nice view of my full hard-on as Flo pulled off the briefs.
“Will you autograph these for me,” she asked.
“You may not want them unless you swallow,” I taunted her.
She choked on her laughter.
“Let me give you something real to choke on,” as I push her head down on my straining dick.
Jace crawled under the divider, dropped his jeans, stood on my outstretched knees and stuck his dick in my open mouth. Bending his knees so he could easily thrust all the way down my throat, I started choking.
Flo mumbled, “Don’t blow too soon. I want to enjoy this for a while.”
All I could do was mumble “yeah.”
Jace reached down and started fingering her labia.
“Oh, honey I’m going to cum,” as she pulled her head off me.
“Don’t stop,” I screeched, pushing her back down before she saw I wasn’t the one up inside her panties.
She kept bobbing and at the same time rocking her ass sideways on Jace’s fingers. He pulled out and started to stick the head of his dick into her cunt’s entrance. She immediately pulled back and stared me right in the eye.
“We’re not going there yet,” she told me.
“I agree, but let’s go back to where we were going.”
Jace was giggling on the floor. She grabbed the base of my cock and deep throat-ed me long enough for me to start my orgasm. Jace playfully fingered her again and she came as he put his whole hand inside her. She pulled off my dick as I continued to spurt all over the place. Her fingers were gripping my hips with a vise-like grip as her orgasm receded. Jace had grabbed my briefs and was catching my sperm as it flew around the stall. She sat back and Jace tongued her cunt as she fell into a stupor. He was stuck under her. I picked up the briefs and gave them to her. They were soaked in cum.
“Here, these are yours. I’ll autographed them for you later.”
We all broke up laughing. She stuffed the briefs in her purse. I pulled my jeans on. It felt good to be going commando again.
We walked back to our booth together. Flo grabbed Edi and Mary and they rushed off to the scene of our defilement. I wondered what to say when she couldn’t figure out how I could finger and lick her cunt while she gave me head on the john. The magic of love. Jace was beside himself. I signed to him “double mint,” and we sang, “double the pleasure, double the fun, with double mint, double mint, double mint gum.” We did a pinky swear and signed ‘sex pact.’
Robby looked around and whispered to me, “Where is he?” and Jace kissed him on the lips. Robby looked so foolish, moving his head around and sticking his tongue in and out and swishing it around. Michael and Hippie lite up the roach and convinced themselves they were the only sane ones left. The girls came back, all giggling. Mary told Robby, “I want you to start wearing underwear again.”
He looked bewildered as the girls and I broke up.
When I got home, Jace was all excited about our joint sexual experience. I had to admit it was better than our nightly wet dreams, which made him sad. We were signing madly about what happened.
“From Flo’s point of view, I got her off giving me a blow job.” I crowed.
“Think she wants your babies?” Jace signed.
We both laughed thinking about her wearing my soaked briefs, hoping to have twins.
“From my point of view,” Jace signed, “It was close to an orgy, like the one I got coming up on my birthday.”
“Ask John. He knows.”
“Wanna invite him to the orgy?”
“No. He’s got ta wait ‘til he’s 16, like me.”
“We’ll just call tonight a three-way and continue to make plans for your 16th. Flo’s definitely in. You gotta seduce Edi. It won’t work if I get her in and she thinks I’m pimpin’ for you.”
“Just let her know you’re makin’ plans. If’n she don’t show no interest, then fuck her. She don’t love me still.”
“That ain’t fair to her, setting her up.”
“Yeah, you’re right. If she’s in, she’ll know its me. If she’s confused, maybe she’s still carrying the crush, like you,” Jace winked at me,
Without thinking, I jumped him and he disappeared. I felt him grab me around the waist from behind and pull down my jeans, pushing me on the bed.
“Get a rubber,” I warned him.
“This ain’t a dream, pussy boy. I’ll drink it”
He ripped down his briefs, and rubbing his hand in my pre-cum, he wiped it across my ass. Slipping a rubber on me, he thrust all the way to his balls. I loved the pain; it meant he and I were totally reunited, until he pulled fully back out and plunged in again. The pre-cum was filling the rubber’s tip. He pulled my head back by the hair. I arched and pushed him out again.
He thrust again, telling me “Wait.”
I held my breath as he drove me with short, furious stabs. I knew he was getting close in a mindless fuck. I fucked him back, and taking a breath, exploded into the rubber. His hands hung onto my pulsating prick as his own climax hit. We twisted and turned with him on top.
With him still inside me, all I wanted to do was fall unconsciously asleep.
“Oh, no you don’t. This is not a dream.”
He rolled me over, removed the used condom, and squeezed the contents into his mouth. There must’ve been a cup of cum and he swallowed several times.
“Flo may have your hopeful sperm but I have your ghost babies.”
I knew it was a dream when little mini-me’s came floating out his dick.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“The Dark Side of the Moon.”
Next I knew, I woke up in a puddle of jism and when I checked, the condom was used but still on. I was still hard. Jace was watching me and then rolled on his side, offering me his ass. It was sweet.
In the morning I rationalized that all the talk about the video had made me dream a cartoon segment for the opening to Darkside. Maybe it could be the opening credits. Robby was in full rehearsal mode when I got to English class. I sat in the corner and channeled Jace through his guitar. Mr. Clark said nothing about me being 25 minutes late. Robby was fussing with the new Titania. He sent the understudy, Jack, to me for tutoring on the Titania role. I continued strumming the guitar, while I explained the two groups of fairies and the rivalry over the Indian changeling.
“You mean I gotta have a black boyfriend,” he asked.
“No, he’s just your slave.”
“That’s even worse.”
I started to like my understudy. His comment gave me an idea.
“Who have we got to play the Indian changeling,” I asked Robby;
“I thought we’d get a Black Barbie doll.”
“This is our chance, Robby, to make a statement and get people to know about your play.”
“What are you talking about.”
“We need a black kid for the play but the school makes them leave at 2 pm. We’ll do a sit-in that blocks the buses until they provide one for kids who want to stay for after-school.”
Mr. Clark looked up. “Did you say sit-in?”
‘Yeah, it sucks that all the black kids don’t stay after 2 pm.”
“Well, I’ll take your demands to the administration.”
“Robby, find a black kid who wants to be in the play.”
He threw up his hands, “How.”
A couple of girls tittered and pointed at a chubby misfit, “She has a black boyfriend.”
“Will he be in the play?”
Miss Chubby stammered,” He’s been asking me all about this class. I bet he’ll do it.”
“Tell him we need him,” Robby directed. “Okay? Which bus does he ride?”
“Tomorrow that bus will be the first Gables High sit-in. From now on we’re rehearsing from 2 to 3, as well as in class. Our show’s less than a week away.”
Mr. Clark looked so pleased with our civil disobedience.
At Nutrition, since we no longer ditched, we got the drama crew from English and our stoner crew to merge in the Quad, calling our corner the Out-Crowd Corner. Today the girls from English were practicing their butch walks, talks and attitude on the boys who were being demure and girlish. All the stoners loved that Robby had found a new group to dominate and were laughing their asses off at the affected drama queens. Robby told everyone to meet at the bus loading area the next day at 2 pm and be prepared to take civil action.
Later the two bands met at Michael’s and discussed our upcoming plans. We told the Out-Crowd they were ready to perform in public and that Michael and Jenna’s parents were throwing a birthday party for Michael. I told them there would be a decent number of kids 10-14, so they’d have to impress their friends. They were to tell Michael and me about any friend they wanted to invite. The False Gods band would be there to back up anyone who wasn’t up to speed on the dance songs to be performed. The kids were excited and went to practice so they would be ready. John gave me a long look. I yelled, “You’re ready to be on your own. Go practice.”
The remaining False Gods group was told we were going to do a video from the Viscaya footage. Studio time was being booked so we could record the Jace Tribute songs we wanted to put in the video. Everyone was told to clear their schedules in the next few weeks because everyone had to be there. Iggy jumped up and down complaining, until we told him that his Iggy shtick would be an extra feature to the video. We’d tell him when to come record. I suggested we chose the songs, starting with Jace’s favorite Pink Floyd hits. I suggested we end with ‘Free Bird,’ which made Mary happy. The Jacettes would do the backups on ‘Take a Walk on the Wild Side.’ It was sweet to practice all these songs that meant so much to Jace and me. My guitar leads were really soaring.
After rehearsal, Hippie announced I had to go to dinner at his house with his two moms. I was about to say it wasn’t convenient, but Jace signed that he wanted to go.
“Then you go,” I signed.
“You want to be alone?”
“No, I’m just so busy. I have to tell Dad I can’t do any more of his gun nut conventions.”
“I have to stay with you,” Jace signed.
“Are you getting sick of me?”
“That’s was very sick last night.” He joked.
I smiled and went along with him to Hippie’s house. Jace tried teasing Hippie while he drove us. No amount of ear and eyelid licking got Hippie’s attention. He was immune. Jace was frustrated, so he took it out on me. Hippie continued to ignore us, finally saying, “You act weird.”
Marge and Meg were much happier to see me this time. They had laid on a feast, which Hippie and I dug into, without waiting for grace or conventional conversation. We finally sat back and saw satisfied looks on the moms’ faces.
“I love a boy who loves to eat.” Meg said.
“You only can love me,” Marge hit her on the arm.
Hippie and I hugged them both.
“We love you loving us even when we know you only love each other.”
“Gregory is so happy now that he has friends,” Marge told me.
“So, we gonna have that birds & bees talk now?” Meg asked.
Hippie’s blush turned purple.
“From what I see, the birds, bees and girls have all decided to do that talk already.”
The moms broke out laughing.
“Don’t you need your moms to show you what to do?” they kidded him.
I thought his purple face was going to turn black, but he kept it under control.
“You’re about two months too late, Moms.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” and we all relaxed.
Meg broke out a ‘dump cake,’ which I guess was Hippie’s favorite. It had everything but the kitchen sink in it, made by mixing it all with cake batter and cooking until the batter wasn’t gloppy. If you didn’t look at it, it tasted great.
“You are the most normal family I know,” I announced.
“Trouble on the home front,” Meg asked.
“Well, my Dad still calls me Little Timmy and has become a gun nut, I haven’t heard from my real Mom in months, Dad’s girlfriend goes through my trash and counts the condoms she finds, Michael’s dad is in our teen band, Stu’s parents either hate or love me, depending on the day of the week, John’s parents pay Stu’s parents to raise him, Robby’s mom is a witch with a black cat and a snake, Dave’s family are all fanatic Catholics, Jazz and Debby’s folks are into self-help seminars because they have no problems, my girlfriend’s parents watch me like a hawk and she keeps stealing my underwear.”
“You have a girlfriend? Isn’t it too soon after losing Jace.”
“Well, we were going out before he died, so she understands how much I still love him and isn’t jealous ‘cause we love each other too. Also, my best friend is a hippie,” and I winked at Hippie.
He didn’t blush but looked real pleased.
“Well, we love you, too, Timmy.”
“Oh no, please don’t call me that. I took me months to be just Tim.”
“Okay, Just Tim.”
“No, just, Tim,” I insisted.
“Well, if that’s your biggest problem, tell anyone who calls you Timmy, even your pops, that two bull dykes will straighten ‘em out on that count.”
I loved my two moms.
While driving me home, Hippie looked at me and smiled, “We’re really best friends?”
“Always, from the day you joined the band.”
“Oh, you mean like everybody else, even Iggy.”
I hit him on the arm, “No, duffuss, I love you, like a brother. You and I play like a single soul. We have to make the band work. You’re the foundation of rhythm that allows my guitar to soar away like a free bird.”
“’And this bird he must fly.’” Hippie sang. He really was out of his shell. He hugged me when I got home. I resisted the temptation to kiss him.
“You taught me to play. I think I idolize you.”
“No false gods,” I warned.
We just smiled.
Jace went ahead and kissed him on the cheek. That one he felt.
Up in my room, I asked Jace why Hippie could resist his teasing, but when it was innocent, he felt him.
Jace signed, “He can only feel what he wants. I can’t make him want to make out.”
“That’s not a problem for me,” I signed and off to bed we went for more ‘dream lover.’
Robby was excessively hyper in the morning in anticipation of his 60s-style protest. I wholeheartedly supported the cause of really integrating all the bused kids into the after-school activities at my school. It was his motives I questioned. I was well aware of his self-aggrandizing. English was electric. The chubby girls’ boyfriend was there before the bell. Robby explained that the play required an Indian changeling and did he want to participate. Grant, his name, affirmed his interest. We asked him what all the black kids thought and felt about their new school.
“Pretty apathetic and sometimes resentful.”
I asked him how he and Chubby had met and gotten involved.
“I saw her givin’ me the eye in the hall. She was my style o’ woman. Y’know, more cushion for the pushin’”
I said, “It’s screwed that the school keeps y’all from bein’ welcome here.”
“They’s afraid o’ the ghetto life comin’ to thah Gables.”
“We’ll get a little ghetto action goin’ here today,” Robby proclaimed. “We’ll concentrate on stopping your bus from leaving. We’ll tell security we need our friend, Grant, to stay for our play rehearsal.” He put his arm around Grant’s shoulder, who looked slightly uncomfortable.
I told him,”See if you can get others to block their buses, too. We can resolve this in our favor by showing that we all want you guys to be here after school.”
“What if security orders us to move?”
“We all have to sit there and keep calm. That prick AP Spencer will want to have us arrested but we’ll have the numbers. The cops will come and want to negotiate. I’ll get our reporter friend to get us on the news. There’s no way they can argue you all have to leave school by final bell.”
“Y’all have this worked out real good. I’ll talk it up with all the bus kids, so they know what’s going on.”
I got on the phone and alerted Intrepid Jimmy. He promised to be there with a photographer.
“What’s this got to do with the band?”
“Nothing, but Robby is the instigator, and we support him.”
Then I called Mike Sr.
“Jesus, will you guys stop instigating trouble.”
“You’re against integrating the school.”
“Hell, no. I’m one of the lead attorneys who sued the County to get blacks into segregated schools.”
“Well, they’re not integrated if they’re forced to leave before after-school activities.”
“Again, you’re three steps ahead of me.”
“Just wanted you to have a heads up before it happened.”
“Okay, but I’m involved regardless. I’ll go into federal court this morning and get an injunction to force the Gables School District to provide later bus service as needed.”
“Will that mean we shouldn’t do our protest?”
“No, I’ll need to show that the students want this service, to show cause.”
“We’ll show you cause.”
“Thanks for the warning. Just make me aware when you plan to do anything.”
“If you get arrested, you’re going call your own dad first, then me as your attorney.”
There was a buzz in the air all day at school. At 2 pm we were out there at the loading zone. Standing with Grant, we asked all the riders on bus #3 to refuse to board. The drama girls and boys all sat down in front of the bus. The stoners and the riders united in chanting, “Integrate, don’t discriminate.” Soon almost all the black kids had either gotten off or refused to load on the buses. Jimmy was there photographing and doing interviews. Robby was making his case that Grant was needed to stay for play rehearsals. Iggy gave some speech about demonstrating for his brothers in Detroit. Mary said most students wanted to be friends with the busing kids but never had a chance to get to know them and that the administration didn’t want to give them an equal education. Some redneck kids yelled epithets at us, to go back to Hialeah. AP Spencer arrived with several security officers, but when he saw that the press was there, he cursed and told security to find out who the ringleaders were and bring them to his office. Robby and Grant refused to leave the loading zone, security called the Gables Police Department for backup. As they arrived and were forming a line to push us away from the buses, Mike Sr. arrived with the US Attorney and several press outlets, including TV. The police referred them to AP Spencer who was forced to return to the scene. When faced with a court order he had no choice but to agree to provide 4 pm and 5pm buses for students who wanted to stay past final bell. A great cheer went up and all the student protesters started marching around the school chanting, “Integrate, don’t discriminate.” The redneck anti-protestors started throwing bottles and the police quickly rounded them up and they went to jail. It was total victory. I stood with Mike Sr. on the sidewalk, watching all the commotion.
“Lost your need to lead the charge,” he asked.
“This was all Robby’s doing. He’s the one who needs the attention.”
“I used to worry that he was a bad influence on Michael in grade school, but I couldn’t keep them apart. They were inseparable.”
“Robby loves to be in charge.”
“And not always for the best reasons.”
“Michael never gets fazed by Robby’s antics.”
“Yeah, he looked up to Robby because he’s a year older, but sometime around age ten or eleven, he stopped idolizing him.”
“They still seem like best friends.”
“Michael had to draw the line and after a big blowup, Robby quickly accommodated to the change in their relationship.”
“That’s pretty much how he and I have stayed friends. If he wasn’t accusing me of trying to steal Mary away, he was always trying to get with Jace and me.”
“How did you stop that?”
“I got in his face and told him to stop playing the jealousy trip. He uses his charm as a power trip. It isn’t very sexy.”
Mike Sr. shook his head. “Life was simpler in the 50s. I used to think I was the world’s worst father and now I’m amazed by how mature my son is.
“He is, and he’s just like you, intelligent and understanding.”
He gave me a quick hug. “All this love is confusing.”
“We know that it’s not free. There’s always a price, even if it’s our own innocence.”
“Out of the mouths of babes.”
Then, we shook hands on a successful operation, even if it wasn’t specifically by the band.
Robby reconvened the clubhouse in his room and through the purple haze of Colombian Gold we sat around as the self-satisfied, smug assholes we knew we were. Several of the English class kids had followed us there and were being initiated into the rites of stoner life. Jack, the understudy, sat with me, and I realized he had been following me around through the whole protest’
“You know, I’m not the greatest role model,” I warned him.
“You’re just the greatest,” he countered and cuddled up next to me. His first time getting high had broken down all his inhibitions.
“Oh, look at the new Jace,” Robby mocked.
I looked over at Jace who was startled but then got that mischievous glint in his eyes. I knew what he was thinking, but I wasn’t ready for another boyfriend. I just put my arm around him, and he fell asleep. Crisis averted.
Jace signed, “What’s wrong with you? We could enjoy him as much as we enjoyed Flo.”
“Pervert,” I signed.
“Why. He’s in your class. Afraid of a little hero-worship.”
“It would just be sex for me. It’s you I love.”
Jace grin went dim for a second . “I feel sad for you. I’m dead, you know.”
“Not to me,” I grinned.
That made him look really sad.
Robby interrupted, “Are you signing to get Jace’s permission?”
“He’s all for it. I’m the one who refuses to treat him like he’s skank.”
“You feel like you’re cheating on Jace?”
“We never cheat. We have a sex pact to never exclude each other.”
All this talk woke up the poor boy. Instead of being embarrassed in front of his friends, he reached around and embraced me, even swinging a leg on top of me. All his friends gasped, which only encouraged him to tighten his grip. From the frying pan into the fire.
“I give up,” I said, picking him up and carrying him all the way to my house. Still asleep, he lay in my bed. I sat in an easy chair and watched Jace fuck the hell out of him. He never opened his eyes. Robby couldn’t help himself and flew over to observe from my window. I moved over and lay in his arms, watching my boyfriend get laid while Robby was getting hard as Jack writhed and squirmed from Jace’s expert fucking technique. It looked like a vivid wet dream. Robby wanted to talk about the show while it was going on, but I hushed him, not wanting to distract Jace, who was oblivious. How strange. One boy thought he was being fucked by me as I watched my dead boyfriend get off, oblivious that Robby was sitting with me watching what he couldn’t see. There had to be a horror movie here somewhere.
Jace was finally done and looked over at me and signed, “You were supposed to join us.”
I motioned to Robby, which was the first time Jace had noticed him. “Oh,” he signed. I kicked Robby out and got into bed with both of them. Jack was laying in a pool of his own cum with his butt sticking up. When I got in, he reached over and pulled me into the jism pool and we fell asleep together. Jace spread himself over both of us like a human blanket. I woke up a couple of hours later from Jack trying to loosen himself from the cum that stuck us together.
I smiled at him, “Did you have fun.”
He was terrified about what had happened, sure I would hate him for attacking me. I assured him that nothing had happened between us, but he looked at the dried cum and the fact that he was naked and shook his head.
“I put you to bed after taking off your clothes. You then proceeded to have an extremely vivid wet dream. At the end, you pulled me into it and we went to sleep.”
He was mortified and started to sniffle. I took him in my arms as he sobbed and gave him a deep full French kiss. He looked up at me in awe and threw himself at me again.
“Hold it, boy. You need to wait for me to want you as much as you seem to want me.”
Then he was crying again, so we had to go through the whole routine except I was more modest with my kiss.
“I can’t help myself. I’ve fantasized about you all year. Even if it was a dream, you fucked me and I thought you really loved me and wanted me too.
Jace was near hysterics. I threw him a nasty look.
“Jack, look at my dick,” which was bulging inside my briefs. “I obviously want you, but I’m not ready. It’s not you.” He had a long skinny dick that was leaking pre-cum onto my bed sheets.
“I’ll never smoke pot again,” he swore.
“You may need to when you try to explain to your friends in class about what you did last night.”
He turned bright red.”
“Okay, Jack, tell them that we’re boyfriends now and they can go fuck themselves if they don’t like it.”
“We’re really boyfriends?”
“No. But that’s what we’ll tell everyone and you can believe what you want. Nothing happened with you and me last night, except you pulled me into a pool of cum and we’re still stuck together.”
He reached to hug me, but our skin pulled so violently that we both went, “Ouch.”
“Love hurts,” we both agreed.
We maneuvered ourselves into the shower and ran the warm water until the cum loosened up. Jace was lathering him up for another go which made him hug me hungrily. Jack bent over, pulled off my soaked briefs, and took my straining dick into his mouth. What the hell. Jace was already inside him and pounding away. I could feel Jace’s rhythm through Jack, as he bobbed on my dick. I got into the rhythm too, and we soon were all cumming. Jack didn’t need any more stimulation than getting off on us fucking him front and back. His skinny dick looked like a garden hose watering the flowers, whipping back and forth with the jism flying. He definitely was sweet. I decided to call him Sweet Pea and accept that we were boyfriends. He hadn’t captured my heart, but at least it was a great start.
“Can I keep your underwear?” he asked.
“Need an autograph?”
“Oh,” Jack looked at me suddenly, “I forgot you’re a rock star.”
“Not much of one, if you’ve forgotten.”
He kissed me quickly, “I’ll never forget this,” still clutching the dripping briefs.
Jace was in manic mood, hugging Max and running around. He signed, “Another 3-way, not an orgy.”
He was keeping count.
After fucking for ten hours straight with only a break for a supposed wet dream, Jack was a little exhausted. Also, he didn’t know how to face the class.
“Were you a virgin?” I asked.
“With girls or with guys?”
“Yeah, both, no one ever wanted me before.”
“All it took was a little pot. You wanted me and you got me.”
“Does that mean we’re really boyfriends.”
“Yeah, you win.”
He grabbed my arm, and we walked into class a couple. The kids burst into cheers. Even Mr. Clark clapped. I was the one with the red face. Sweet Pea was no longer an understudy.