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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Secret Life of Billy Chase 5 - 3. Chapter 3

Thursday - My back still hurts from that fucking sofa bed contraption in my father's basement! There's, like, this big ass iron PIPE in the middle of the mattress...and it just plain *HURTS* no matter which way you lay on it! What's so 'convenient and comfy' about a big ass metal BAR in the small of your back all night??? I tried to sleep on my stomach, but it just made my stomach and chest hurt. I tried to lay on my side, but it practically bruised my ribs on either side. I even tried to lay in the bed sideways so I wouldn't be 'over' the bar, but then I had to deal with my head and ankles being pressed on iron hinges and framework at both ends! I just....arrrrgh!!!! I don't think I had such an uncomfortable sleep in all my LIFE!

One night...just over 13 hours to be exact...and I already hate it here...

My mom was definitely not kidding about just 'leaving' me here. To be honest, I feel kinda betrayed. Like...you know, 'abandoned'. I was sorta hoping that she was just doing the whole suitcase and lecture thing to scare me into acting right. That if I begged enough, she'd say, "Do you PROMISE not to ever do it again?" And I'd promise, and she'd let me slide with a final warning or something. I had it in my mind that she'd turn the car around and my parents would just give me a few months of 'probation' to make sure that I act right for the time being. But....no matter what I said to my mom in that car, she just blocked it out and kept driving. I might as well have been offering the warden a 'pack of smokes' on my way to the electric chair. She was just determined to...sighhhh...get rid of me.

When she was getting close to dropping me off, I actually started getting nervous. My stomach got a bad case of butterflies, and I was almost whining for her to take me home. But what she said, even though it was in a really caring voice, was, "I'm sorry, Billy...but I'm honestly out of ideas here. Everything you do affects your future, you understand?" And she sort of smoothed out my hair as we pulled into my dad's driveway, and then she says, "I know that you can do anything when you put your mind to it, Billy. But what you're putting your mind to these days is not the direction you should be heading. You be good. And remember, we're just trying to help you."

Great...so now I'm in need of 'help'. Now I know how Jimmy felt when he was on suicide watch. Sighhh....whatever.

Anyway, my dad practically kicks the basement door open at 6 AM while I'm sleeping, and tells me to get up. Which is like...what the fuck??? I don't have to get up at 6 in the fucking morning! I don't have to be at school until 8:30...I could have slept for at LEAST another hour, even though I have to catch the bus. But my dad is all, "First of all, every morning, you get up at 6 AM sharp, you make your bed and make sure this room is spotless. You shower and get dressed, we eat breakfast at 7 AM in this house. I want the table set and ready to go by then. Then, after you eat, you rinse the dishes off and put them in the dishwasher, and head out to that bus stop." You have NO idea how annoying my father's 'punishment' voice sounds at 6 o'clock in the freakin' morning. Then he's like, "You come home right after school, and your homework is to be done immediately after you shut that door. No TV, no music, no video games, no internet, until it's finished. And I want to check it personally to make sure that you did it all and did it right. Then you set and clear the table for dinner, wash the dishes, and if anything else needs to be done in this house...I'll be sure to let you know."

I was still sooooo groggy, but I was like, "Dad...come on..." I mean, there was no reason for him to be a jerk to me. I spent the last few days sick, humiliated, heartbroken, and confused. Does he have to really make things any worse for me by rubbing salt in the wounds. I said, "Do I really have to get up right now? It's EARLY!"

But as he was leaving, he just says, "If you thing getting up early on a school day is rough, wait until this weekend. The lawn needs to be cut every Saturday. That's your job for as long as you're under this roof, so get ready to make a nice little habit of it." And he shuts the door. Arrrrgh!!!! And they wonder why teenagers freakin' run away from home!

Anyway...more important matters are kinda bugging me right now. As hard as I try...I can't get that kiss out of my mind! I mean...the more I think about it, the more I wanna know who it was. I've never felt anything like that. Even with Brandon, to be honest. I mean, I was pretty messed up at the time, I know...but...I don't think I've ever shared a more intimate kiss with anybody before. And I've been kinda trying to figure out who it was without saying, "Hey...did you French me a few days ago while I was rubbing your boner in the dark?" Somehow, I don't think it would go well if I got the wrong guy. Hell, it wouldn't go well even if I got the right guy! It's like saying, 'any random stranger could have come in and got it on with me. Didn't have to be YOU.' I'm kinda stuck as to how go about this discretely. But it shouldn't be TOO hard, right? I mean...even if I wasn't in MY right mind, I'm willing to bet they were. I mean...at least enough to remember what happened. When they see me, they're gonna wanna know what the outcome of such a hot liplock is gonna be. Maybe they want MORE! God, knows that I do.

I kept thinking back to the whole blurry event, and I've been trying to rule out who it ISN'T. But I have my second thoughts about that too. Because every time I try to scratch a name from my mental list...I find a reason to put him back on there. Now...it couldn't have been Joanna, obviously. I felt an actual 'package' there...so it's not like she had a fight with Sam and had a sudden relapse urge to make out with her ex boyfriend. And as much as I wish it was Brandon...as much as I really REALLY want it to be him...I don't remember him ever kissing me like that. Like...ever.

However...something weird happened when I ran into Simon after lunch today. He looked so nervous when he saw me. He turned red in the face and started breathing hard and fumbling, which made me wonder what the hell was wrong with him. I thought maybe I had 'done' something to him and didn't remember it. He finally stopped fidgeting, and he was like, "Billy...look, about the other day..." And he blushed really REALLY hard, and for a second I was like, 'OMIGOD!!! It was SIMON???' Which would have been really hot! But he's like, "...The party was just...crazy, you know? And I'm sorry about the whole...well, you know."

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. But I wanted to make sure. So I said, "Well...I mean...that depends on what you're talking about." It seemed safe enough.

He goes, "How can you not know what I'm talking about?" He gave me the strangest look, and I was just about ready to accept the whole thing when he realized that I was drawing a blank. He's like, "You don't...remember the...the whole...?" Then he takes a deep breath, suddenly closes up his locker and grabs his stuff. He's like, "Actually, forget it. It was no big deal."

Arrrgh! So I'm like, "NO! No...I REMEMBER what happened, I just...I wanted to make sure we were talking about...you know..the same....'stuff'. That's all." Knowing damn well that I was lying! Grrr...on somebody else, that might have worked. But not on Simon. The damn brainiac took the quickest available exit from the conversation that he could find.

He's all, "Nothing! Nothing happened. It was...the party was..awesome. Ok, gotta go! Later, Billy..." And in a flash (literally a FLASH), he was gone! I think my heart started beating really hard, because if little blond Simon can kiss like THAT...then I've been missing out! And he knows I'm gay. And he DID hesitate at first. But wait, he was there with his new girlfriend too. I mean, it's not like he was suffering from a lack of 'kiss-attention' that night. Still, he was at the top of my list of suspects today.

At least...he was before I saw Trace a bit later on in the day.

I was actually getting a soda out of one of the machines, when he snuck up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. When I turned around, those big brown eyes were staring right back at me, and he was giving me the most adorable smile ever. It was so weird, because Trace hardly ever seems to smile for anybody but me. And when he smiles for me...it's like...radiant, you know? He's like, "Hey buddy! You're looking a little bit better than the last time I saw you. Hehehe, let me guess...you spent all Tuesday puking your guts out, right?"

I was kinda caught off guard at first. So I just sorta smiled nervously for a second and then I said, "Yeah, I did. It was pretty nasty. Not to mention that I'm pretty much in major trouble for, like, the rest of my natural life." Trace pushed some of his cute little dreads back out of his eyes, and I think I actually heard myself sigh.

He says, "Yeah, well...you were pretty messed up. I told you to slow down or we were going to end up putting you to bed." And he smiled at me...again.

So I got all flustered and I asked him, "So...wait...YOU put me to bed, Monday night?"

And Trace looks over my shoulder, and his smile fades instantly. He's like, "Shit...it's my guidance counselor, Mrs. Fischer. If she sees me, I'm in for a long lecture and probably a dozen detention slips. And that's just for the stuff she KNOWS about." He gives me this friendly pat on the shoulder, and says, "I'm outta here. But I'm glad you're feeling better, Billy. Call me sometime, k? We'll hang out." Which was like....ARRRRGGHH!!!!! What does THAT mean??? Did he put me to bed or not??? I actually tried to look at his lips while I was talking to him to see if maybe those were the ones pressed up against mine in that dark room. Ugh...was it Trace? He HAS been awfully sweet to me, and me alone, these past few weeks. Fuck! I HATE this!!!

Not to mention that Sam is being just as dodgy and weird as he was yesterday, if not MORE so. And he WON'T talk to me about it. He's never really had much of a problem with my sexuality before...but then again, it's never really 'targeted' him before. Still, I know he was a little freaked out by me touching his leg...but he wasn't THIS freaked out. I mean..what if I kissed him? What if I kissed my best friend and felt him up in the dark, and now he doesn't wanna talk to me? It's not like him to be this crazy!

Add to that the fact that Bobby ditched gym today and hasn't spoken a single word to me since the party, and I haven't been able to talk to Lee since my mom practically threatened to have everybody thrown into jail and called his parents...it could be one of THEM too. Everybody around me is acting weird. How am I supposed to look for something out of the ordinary?

I've gotta do more research. So wish me luck.

Gotta go. I need a place to hide this book, and there isn't anywhere in this basement that's safe enough. I can't even put it in the cushions of the couch or hide it in between the mattresses, because the couch and the mattress is the same damn thing! And him and his 'lady friend' mess around with it too much for me to just leave my private thoughts around for them to stumble across. I'll think of something.

Until tomorrow...

-Billy (Still his father's HOSTAGE)

Copyright © 2011 Comicality; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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