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“He seems all secretive. Different.” Luke was frowning at Mitchell. “You seem odd too.”

“I am odd.”

Luke paused. “Mitchell, what I said about you” — Luke lowered his voice — “being gay.”

“You said it already.”

“Yeah. But really ... I mean — I shouldn’t have said it in the first place.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Luke glanced at his plate, as though in disgust, and began to stir the potato into the gravy. A moment later he looked up at Mitchell, a smile forming on his face. “You remember that playhouse my dad built in the backyard?”

Mitchell nodded, remembering the A-framed building that had had an attic and balcony. It had seemed enormous when they were children — like a real house. They had lugged old furniture into it — a table and chairs, a mattress, and had even had a set of plates and cutlery, like they were taking up house together.

“I sometimes thought ...” Luke glanced away.

“What?”

“That we could like — live there together — that it would be like that when we grew up, you and me living together.”

“Hell, Luke, we were kids.”

“Yeah, but it was a pretty strange thing to think.”

“And now you’re going to tell me you’re gay, right?”

Luke shook his head, but his eyes were wide and earnest as he said, “I really do like you, Mitch.”

“I like you too.”

“But not like ...?”

Mitchell shook his head. He knew it wasn’t entirely true — part of him would always think of Luke in that way, but he said, “Don’t worry. It’s over between us.”

“You make me feel like I’m being dumped.”

Mitchell laughed.

Luke frowned, apparently hurt, and then began to laugh at himself.

50

Following training, Mitchell shared a shower with Tadd and Tyler as usual. Strangely now, this seemed far from erotic. Mitchell felt as though he could barely breathe, and as he tried to keep away from Tadd, he brushed up against Tyler, their soapy bodies sliding against each other. He heard Tyler make a sound, something that sounded like a stifled groan, and then, as Mitchell watched Tyler, he saw him struggling with a hard-on, one that rose into the air as Tyler turned toward the wall.

Could Tyler like him?

Mitchell frowned and shook the water out of his hair.

“Someone walking over your grave?”

“Something like that?”

Tadd smiled. “All ready for tomorrow?”

Mitchell nodded, soaping his chest.

Marley had given them their final pep talk — had kept them standing around the pool for more than fifteen minutes until they were freezing. They had hot-footed it into the showers and jumped in en masse. Now the locker room was a jumble of soapy bodies, steam and laughter. All of it nervous somehow, nervous in anticipation of tomorrow’s meet.

Mitchell stole another glance at Tyler’s cock, and as he did so, he caught Tyler’s eye. Tyler — blond-haired Tyler with the beautiful smile — gave Mitchell a look, a look that Mitchell now recognized and entirely understood.

Tyler liked him.

Mitchell swallowed and smiled nervously. He turned away and glanced at Tadd who frowned at him.

“Something up?”

Mitchell shook his head. He stepped a little further into the corner and backed up against the tiles, feeling them slide against his naked ass. Tyler was standing so close to him, and if anything his bone was getting larger. He glanced at Mitchell again, almost apologetically, and at that moment Robby Michaels said, “Tyler’s got a bone!”

Someone laughed, and Tyler said, “Cut it out.” He sounded pained, almost as though he was going to cry.

Robby stepped over and slapped Tyler on the back. “Come on, Tyler. Show us what you got.”

Reluctantly, Tyler turned around. His cock was a nice size, and not only a decent length but fat.

Mitchell hadn’t ever seen Tyler with a bone before, hadn’t ever thought he might be gay, and now he seemed to have gotten hard from Mitchell sliding up against him.

As the guys laughed and fooled, Tyler relaxed a little. He smiled shyly, and Mitchell replayed in his mind what had happened the day he had poked Tyler in the ass with his cock. Had Tyler simply been covering? Simply been protecting himself? Mitchell frowned. He glanced at Tyler again and felt suddenly certain, as though it was something he had known for a long time, that Tyler was gay. He let his eyes linger on Tyler’s perfect body and felt his own cock firm. Tyler. It was almost unbelievable. He was like ... the American hero or something.

Mitchell glanced at Tadd and saw there a dark look. Tadd’s brows were lowered and his dark eyes were locked on Mitchell.

51

 “So you were looking at Tyler today?”

“What?”

“I saw you.”

Mitchell turned away. They were in Mitchell’s bedroom. Tadd had come over to pick him up, and no sooner had Tadd gotten into the room than he had started on this.

“Is that the only explanation I get?”

“What?”

“Come on, Mitchell.”

“He’s sexy. He’s just like — I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“He’s gay.”

Mitchell glanced at Tadd and turned away again.

“Didn’t you know that?”

“I never thought about it.”

“All that stuff about you poking your boner into his ass.”

“He’s a nice guy.”

“Sure, he is.”

“Don’t you think so?”

“Yes. But I like you better.”

Mitchell nodded. He swallowed.

Tadd prompted him. “And ...?”

“What?”

“I like you better too, Tadd.”

Mitchell exhaled. “You know I do.”

Tadd frowned.

“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Tadd nodded and turned away.

Somehow Tadd didn’t understand how much Mitchell liked him, how much Mitchell wanted to do things with him, how much Tadd had changed his life. Mitchell had been thinking all day about Tadd, unable to get him out of his mind. Ever since Tadd had called last night, Mitchell had been dreaming and picturing what he wanted to do with Tadd. The thing with Tyler had been nothing. Hell, he didn’t like Tyler — not like that. He couldn’t like Tyler more than Tadd.

“Are we going to have a fight or something?”

Tadd shrugged.

Mitchell put a hand on his shoulder and Tadd turned. There was a tear in his eyes.

“Christ, Tadd.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

“You love me?”

Mitchell nodded.

“You’ve never said that before.”

“I never thought it before.”

Tadd wrapped his arms around Mitchell and picked him up. He muttered something. It sounded like, “I love you too.”

52

On the way to Tadd’s house, Mitchell began to think about what he wanted Tadd to do to him. He was sure it was possible. It was just that Tadd was so big. If it was anyone else, it would have been easy, he figured, or a lot easier. It was simply the size of Tadd’s hands.

“I want to carry you upstairs,” Tadd said, once they had parked the car.

“I’d really rather if you didn’t.”

“Why is that?”

“What if we meet your parents?”

“Hell, you won’t see them.”

“I never have.”

“Yeah. Well, you’re not missing anything.”

Once they were inside, Mitchell agreed to let Tadd carry him — all the way up the stairs and along the corridor until they got to Tadd’s part of the house.

“Can you turn the handle?”

“What?”

“The door isn’t locked.”

Mitchell reached down and turned the handle. Tadd carried him through into the sitting room and put him onto the couch, half throwing him. Then he pounced, seizing Mitchell and drawing him into a hug on the couch. They kissed — something that they hadn’t done for more than a week. Mitchell felt his muscles, suddenly lax and weak.

“I’m not tense now,” he said.

“No. You’re all floppy.”

The first thing, Tadd said, was to get themselves something to eat. Tadd had picked him up early, seeing as how they had the meet tomorrow, and Mitchell had asked on the way if they couldn’t stop somewhere and get something to eat. Tadd said they could get food at his house. There was a couple, a man and woman who lived downstairs at the back. They kept the house, like servants.

“Servants?” Mitchell said.

“Yeah — like Jake.”

“He isn’t a servant.”

“What is he?”

Mitchell closed his mouth. He didn’t want to have that conversation with Tadd. He hadn’t ever told Tadd about his father — about Jake — about who Jake was.

Now, resigned to it, he told Tadd.

“Your Dad?”

“Yeah.”

Tadd nodded. “You’d never pick that.”

Tadd rang the housekeepers on the intercom and asked them to bring up some dinner. It took almost half an hour, and while they were waiting, they played the Xbox. Tadd wasn’t very good at it.

“I never play it,” Tadd said.

“You can kind of tell.”

They turned it off, and at that moment the door opened. A grey-haired woman with two meals on a tray walked into the room.

“Martha — this is Mitchell.”

“Hi,” Mitchell said, standing up.

Martha said hello to him, and then asked Tadd if he wanted anything else. Tadd said that he didn’t and she left.

“She seems okay,” Mitchell said, smiling as he ate.

“Oh, yeah, she’s fine. More a mother to me than my own mother. She’s been around since I was twelve.”

Mitchell nodded.

She had brought them a meal of fish and chips with salad. It tasted okay, but it wasn’t like Jake’s cooking. When they had finished, Tadd took the plates through to the kitchen and turned the dishwasher on.

Mitchell protested. “It’s got two plates in it.”

“Yeah, but I’m never going to wash them myself.” Tadd wiped his hands. “Now,” he said, turning around to Mitchell. He seized him around the waist and lifted him from behind, pulling him backwards until he was tight against Tadd’s body. Mitchell was wrapped in Tadd’s arms, helpless — a feeling he couldn’t help liking.

“Bedroom?”

Mitchell nodded.

Tadd lifted Mitchell’s feet off the floor and carried him through to his room, using his legs to push Mitchell’s legs forward, like Mitchell was a puppet strapped to Tadd’s chest. Tadd lifted him high and threw him onto the mattress.

Mitchell turned over and lay there looking at Tadd while Tadd stepped out of his shoes. He pulled his socks off and then moved toward Mitchell.

“You’ve got your shoes and socks on on my bed.”

“You threw me here.”

“Well, that’s not good enough.”

Tadd sat down and began to unlace Mitchell’s shoes. Mitchell felt like wrapping his arms around himself. He was suddenly so happy, so deliriously happy.

Tadd settled down beside Mitchell and turned to face him. Mitchell turned over as well and the two of them stared at one another.

“What do you want to do?”

“You always have to talk, don’t you?” Tadd said.

“Talk?”

“Yeah. We could just see what happens.”

“Yeah, but you remember how you said you wanted to do something special with me. And there’s a thing I want to do too. That’s what I meant.”

Tadd rolled over and lay on his back with his hands behind his head. “You’re going to think it’s pretty strange,” he said.

“Yeah. Likewise.”

“Likewise?”

“My thing.”

“Tell me first, then.”

“No. You tell me first.”

Tadd took a deep breath. “I want to suck your cock.”

“Is that it?”

“No. There’s more. I want to shave your pubes off.” Tadd threw Mitchell a glance. “I want to push your balls into your groin. And I want to suck your cock while it’s soft.” Tadd turned onto his side again. “Do you think you could do that? Not get a boner?”

“I don’t know. Maybe ....” Mitchell didn’t know how to say it. “If you did my thing first, then I probably wouldn’t feel like getting a boner.” Mitchell knew what it had felt like the times he had used the baseball bat. He had felt awful — like he never wanted to jerk off again.

“What’s your thing, then?”

Mitchell bit his bottom lip, and then he said it. “I want you to fist-fuck me.”

“You
what?
”

“I want you to fist-fuck me.”

“Yeah. I heard you.” Tadd frowned.

“So?”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

Mitchell said nothing.

“Look at the size of my hands, Mitchell.” Tadd made a fist. “Look at the size of that. Do you really think I could get that up your ass?”

“You’ve got to pull your thumb out. Make it like this.” Mitchell showed Tadd what he meant. It’s smaller, like a cylinder.”

“There’s no way I’m doing that, Mitchell. I’m not even going to try.”

Mitchell closed his eyes. When he opened them again they had tears in them. “Please, can you?”

“Why?”

“I want to know what it feels like.”

“Hell, Mitchell. Like pain. That’s what it would feel like. And I could rupture you. How would that be? If I tore your ass and you were bleeding?”

Part of Mitchell thought it would be okay. Part of him wanted that. But he closed his eyes again. “If you want your thing ....”

“Mitchell.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me.”

“How can I?”

53

Somehow Mitchell did make Tadd. They talked for half an hour or more, Mitchell pleading with Tadd, coercing him in every way he knew how. And finally Tadd agreed.

“I want you to film it.”

“Film it?”

“With my phone.”

By this stage, Mitchell figured Tadd really did want to do it, that he had wanted to do it ever since Mitchell had said it, though it was a thing he couldn’t admit to. Tadd took Mitchell’s clothes off and laid him on the bed again. He said he had to lock the door to his rooms, just in case his mom or dad came to look for him. It happened sometimes, but not very often.

Mitchell nodded. He couldn’t believe that he’d actually convinced Tadd, and now that Tadd seemed happy about it, he felt a little afraid. His heart fluttered, and he felt a little sick, a little dizzy.

Tadd turned him over so he was lying on his stomach. And then he set everything up. He had a tube of lube, a deodorant bottle and a slightly larger bottle of cologne that he had taken from his bathroom.