It had to have been the single most confusing weekend in his entire existence.  Tommy came to that conclusion as he lay on the parched ground beneath him.  His mother, having lived in small flats and college dorms her entire life, was having a difficult time adjusting to yard work.  The lone patch of grass that Tommy lay upon was uncomfortably crunchy.  He would have rather concentrated on that than what had happened only moments earlier.  The whole bizarre weekend had led up to that Monday afternoon.

    First it had been Mark Briar, and Tommy hated that it was still on his mind.  He couldn't forget how it felt to have Mark's hands on him, and when he had invited Hope over to take out his sexual frustration, she had her own surprise for him.  As Graeme had predicted, she was moving, and she had waited for the very last minute to tell him.  She was obviously heartbroken about having to go, but she was breaking up with him nonetheless.  She even laughed as his suggestion that they try things long distance.  She had told him that she knew he had someone else on his mind the entire time they had been dating.

    Tommy had been shocked and for a brief moment was convinced that she had somehow found out what Mark had done that afternoon.  He realized that wasn't the case as she continued to talk.  Tom cursed himself because he knew she was right.  Though she didn't even know he existed, she was talking about Richard Blume.  Tommy wondered how he could possibly be so transparent as to remain so obviously distracted by someone thousands of miles away who wouldn't even speak to him. 

    Hope said she didn't blame him and that she had known his mind was elsewhere the entire time, a confession which did nothing to ease Tommy's mind.  Then she proceeded to tell him how much she loved him and how he was the best boyfriend ever.  It was distressing to hear that Hope held him in such high esteem when Tommy had only invited her over for sex.

    He wanted to throw his arm around her and comfort her for her obvious upset at having to leave and leave him behind.  He wanted to tell her that it was okay that she had waited so long to tell him and that he wasn't angry about it.  He wanted to be the sainted boyfriend that she thought he was. 

    He didn't do any of that though.  He invited her upstairs one last time, and she smiled at him and accepted the offer.

***

    Tommy was obviously depressed that evening at Madeline's family dinner.  He poked listlessly at his food and sighed until his mother asked him what was wrong.

    "Hope is leaving," he said, and dropped his fork into his plate.  "May I be excused.  Graeme invited me over and...I'm going to spend the night, okay?"
    
    "Are you sure you want to do that?"  She asked.  "You seem really upset."

    "What should I do?"  Tommy growled.  "Go weep in my room?  She was my friend...my girlfriend, and she's leaving.  Maybe we'll keep in touch.  Maybe not though.  I don't have a great track record with my exes actually speaking to me once one of us moves far, far away.  Right, Mum?"

    "Okay," she relented quickly.  She didn't want to hear the bitter resentment in her son's voice.  It was so much easier to pretend.  "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

    "Yeah," Tommy replied.  He scowled at her and stood.  He'd had a bad day and didn't feel like letting her off the hook.  "Good things never last for me, do they, Mum?  I kind of expect it these days."

    He walked from the table and went outside to wait for Graeme.

 ***

     Tommy wasn't very talkative that night, even once Graeme had whisked him away to house-sit for his brother, Gordon.  He'd told Graeme what Hope and said, and the best friend was dutifully indignant on his behalf despite the fact that Tommy said he held nothing against her.  He was appreciative that Graeme was there to support him, and it seemed like he was the only one who really cared.

    They were on opposite ends of the sofa as they sat watching a movie on Gordon's large and expensive television.  Graeme was reclining, sprawled out across the furniture, and he wasn't paying any attention to the screen.  Tommy was seated upright, slumped back in his seat with a troubled frown on his face.  His eyes were glued to the screen, but he seemed to be looking through it.  Graeme nudged him with his foot.

    "What's up?"

    "What do you think is up?"  Tommy mumbled.  "My life fucking sucks."

    "Come here."  Graeme looked seriously up at him and patted his own chest, a gesture meant to encourage Tommy to find a place there.

    Tommy's breath caught in his throat.  He didn't know what Graeme was after, and he was sure he didn't want to cross any lines with him.  He was Tommy's best friend in Nevada and that wasn't something he wanted to put in jeopardy. 

    "Come on, dude," Graeme urged further when Tommy made no move.

    Tommy finally turned towards him, he had no smile despite Graeme's grinning at him.  He sighed heavily and crawled over to Graeme's side of the couch where he soon found himself nestled snugly in Graeme's arms.  They stayed that way for the rest of the night, making fun of the movie and talking and laughing.  It was comfortable to be there and a relief that nobody was around to stare at them and to tell them that they were wrong. 

    That Saturday they were out at Gordon's pool, enjoying the perks of house-sitting.  Graeme dutifully made fun of the box-cut swim trunks that Richard had once upon a time picked out for Tommy on a shopping trip before he had moved away.  It was the nearest thing to a speedo that Richard could convince him to wear.  It looked like it was shaping up to be a fun day.  Goofing off at the pool with Graeme was the best thing he could think of to take his mind off the events of the previous days.  There was only one problem with goofing off that Graeme pointed out with concern before they even started the day.

    Tommy had no sunscreen.  Graeme had reluctantly let him borrow his, even though he had offered to drive to the store to get a more appropriate SPF for Tommy's porcelain colored flesh, and in the course of having fun in the water, Tommy had forgotten to reapply what little protection Graeme's had offered.  The effects of his carelessness with the Nevadan sun were quite apparent when he finally made it home that night and stepped into the shower.  The dull ache he had felt creeping up on him that day; an ache which he had attributed to exhaustion at the time, blossomed under the hot water into the unmistakable pain of the sunburn that covered his entire body.

    He was cold that Sunday despite the pink hue of his skin, and it was all he could do to keep his mother from driving him to the hospital.  He managed to convince her that a day off from school was all he needed to get back on his feet.  He spent most of that Monday in bed, feeling miserable and ill. 

  Graeme found him that afternoon, reading from his biology textbook in an effort to stay up-to-date on his classes.  He hadn't bothered putting any clothes on once the chills had gone, and been replaced by an uncomfortable heat and the feeling that his skin didn't quite fit anymore.  He looked up at Graeme, nonplussed by the appearance of his best friend in the doorway.

    "Can't you knock?"  Tommy asked. He threw the book at Graeme's head, but Graeme ducked and laughed at him. They stared at each other silently for a moment, Tommy sat cross legged upon his bed, with his arms carefully folded across his lap.  Then Graeme shrugged and burst into his wide grin.

    "I got you a present," he said, and exhumed a box from his messenger back.  He dropped the bag near the door and held out the package.

    It was sunscreen and lotion. 

    Tommy regarded the gifts, fake laughed at the situation, then thanked his friend.  They paused then, Graeme staring him in the eyes, and Tommy feeling unsure of what was going to happen.

    "Turn over," Graeme finally said.

    He retreated back to the door, took a deep breath, and locked it.

***

    And that had taken Tommy to the very moment at which he sat upon his mother's unwatered lawn, with Graeme seated next to him, not saying a word.  Graeme, who always had a hug, and always had something to say, was sitting there at a complete loss.

    "Why'd you do it?" Tommy asked. 

    "Don't know," Graeme mumbled.  "I guess because you looked tired and who else was going to do your back?  Besides, something's been bothering you.  I thought you could use a break."

    "Yeah," Tommy agreed.  "A break would be nice.  An orgasm on the other hand is another story, mate."

    "You have something against orgasms now?"  Graeme asked with a sly chuckle.

    "Nah."  Tommy laughed in return.  "It just gets a little confusing when your best friend is the one giving them to you."

    Tommy certainly felt bad about what had happened.  He knew he'd let himself get too worked up once Graeme had given him what amounted to permission to get off on the back massage that he seemed determined to dole out.  Tommy had even gone so far as to turn around once his back was finished and ask if Graeme would like to slather lotion on his chest as well.  Graeme paused only a moment before taking him up on the perceived challenge. 

    Once it was done, Tommy had to explain through a hail of giggles that his nipples were extremely sensitive.  If he had not found the look of surprised terror on Graeme's face when he had come so amusing, he might have been embarrassed at the fact that he had let himself get so aroused that only that slight touch had been enough to send him over the edge.

    They had been sitting outside in a contemplative silence for a long time before Tommy had asked for an explanation.  Graeme had not freaked out.  He hadn't run away, and it wasn't awkward, which Tommy thought was strange.

   "Maybe I'm curious," Graeme admitted.

    "That much is only obvious, Graeme," Tommy said.  "The question is: how curious can you be?  I don't know what you're thinking, but I really don't think you have it in you."

    "Maybe I want it in me," Graeme replied, and immediately realized the unintentional innuendo behind the words.  He grimaced at that and watched as Tommy laughed. 

    "You know, Graeme," he said.  "It's flattering that you would come to me, and if all you want is a bit of relief I'd be more than happy to give you that, or if you want to give me another massage I don't think I'll say no.  I can't make you gay though.  That's something you have to decide for yourself, and I think you already know the answer."

    "Who taught you how to be right all the time?"  Graeme asked.  He was well aware that he preferred girls, but there was something about Tommy that he was drawn to.  He couldn't put a finger on it.  He had never been as close to anybody as he was to Tommy, not even his family members.  He knew that there were lines that shouldn't be crossed, but he didn't know where they were.  Maybe he was a little bit in love with his best friend, and he didn't particularly think there was anything wrong with that. 

    "My mum," Tommy said.  He stubbed out his cigarette then and decided that a change of subject was needed.

    "You'll never in a million years guess who came on to me the other day," he said.

    "Are you going to make me guess?"  Graeme replied.  "Because I don't think I have a million years."

    "Fuck off!"  Tommy laughed and shoved him before providing an answer.  "The captain of the bloody football team!"  He said.

    "Jon Ancher?" 

    "Don't be daft.  He's racist, not to mention homophobic," Tommy replied with disgust.  "You know I mean soccer."

    "Mark -Fucking- Briar?"  Graeme gasped.

    "Don't look so surprised,"  Tommy said.  "He practically assaulted me after classes on Friday."

    "Did you do it?"

    "Graeme," he clucked disapprovingly.  "Of course we didn't, man.  I have a girl...had a girlfriend.  I don't cheat.  I never, ever cheat."

    "She's leaving today,"  Graeme pointed out.

    "I didn't know that then," he replied.  "I was supposed to meet her for lunch...  I was feeling too sorry for myself though.  If Mum wasn't home I might've invited her over for a little rubdown, if I'd have known that was in the cards for the day."

    "I guess you'll just have to settle for me then,"  Graeme replied.  He felt rather smug about it even though he knew it was awful and selfish, but he didn't want to share Tommy with anybody, even though Hope had been his friend too.

    "You aren't bad," Tommy admitted.  He picked up Graeme's hand and idly inspected it.  "You've got nice fingers.  Wager you'd give a hell of a hand job."

    Graeme snatched his hand back and punched Tommy lightly in the chest, causing a howl of pain.  The burn had settled into a dull throb over his entire body, yet the contact was still almost excruciating.

    "Bastard," Tommy muttered under his breath.

    "You're never going to find out," Graeme informed him.

    "Oh, I think I will."  Tommy grinned widely at him.

    Graeme eyed him suspiciously, then tacked him without regard to his sunburn.  They wrestled on the dry grass for a moment before Graeme jumped up and breathlessly retreated to the house.  Tommy scrambled after him.

***

    On the ride to school the next day, they were both silent.  Tommy decided that it would be best not to push Graeme into speaking.  He would give him time and space to think about what he had done the day before.  He could only hope that Graeme would come to the same conclusion that he had.  He wasn't going to cross the line with Graeme.  He knew he could.  He was fairly convinced that it would have been an easy job to seduce his best friend, who was apparently and admittedly curious.  As far as Tommy was concerned though, that was not an option. 

    "What's wrong?"  He asked.

    "Nothing," Graeme readily replied.  "Just thinking."

    Tommy decided to leave it at that.  If Graeme didn't want to talk about it then he wasn't going to force the issue.  He figured it would be better if they both let the entire weekend blow over than to dwell on it.  Besides, Tommy had bigger fish to fry on that Tuesday.  He stared down at the books that lay near his feet on the floor.  They weren't his.  Mark had never returned to retrieve his schoolwork after he had stormed out of Tommy's house, and Tommy had been too afraid to call him. 

    "I'm going to apologize to Mark today," Tommy said.  "I have to give him his things back anyway, so don't wait for me after school, alright?"

    "Okay,"  Graeme said, and it was apparent that there wasn't going to be any further conversation on that ride, so Tommy sat back in his seat at watched the desert landscape pass by outside his window.

    ***

    Tommy thought it would have been easy.  He could give Mark his books during the phys-ed class they shared early in the morning, and then he would be done with it.  He would see Graeme at lunch, ask for a ride home, and Graeme would grin at him and ruffle his hair.  Things would be normal again.  It should have been easy, but as he stood at the end of a row of lockers with Mark's books grasped in his arms and held to his chest, he could hear that they were making fun of him.

    Mark was sitting there, surrounded by his soccer buddies, and telling them all about how Tommy Sinclair had tried to get in his pants.  Maybe it was too much to ask to remain on friendly terms with Mark after what had happened, but Tommy had hoped they could have at least remained civil.  He hadn't expected friendship.  He had expected only disappointment, but standing in the shadows, listening to Mark laugh at him and spread rumors about something he hadn't even done was devastating. 

    There it was in front of him, everything he had sought to avoid by cutting himself off from the rest of the team.  He had been careful not to bring attention to himself, yet he found himself mired in it once again.  He was finished hiding.  He was going to be himself on that team once and for all, and if it meant going toe-to-toe with Mark Briar and calling him out, he was going to do it.

    Tommy stalked around the row of lockers, the group of boys stared at him, and all the defiance was zapped straight out of him.  He pointed his eyes towards the concrete floor and shuffled towards them.  He instantly gave up on a confrontation then and just wanted to give Mark his books and get away.

    "Well, if it isn't the little faggot," Mark said as he caught sight of Tommy approaching.  The others laughed with him.

    "Look, Mark...about the other day," Tommy said, but he was cut off.

    "Fuck off, Sinclair."

    "I thought you might need your books," Tommy handed his papers over to him, neatly organized and in order.  He just threw them down on the ground and pointed a finger. 

 "Look, homo," he leered.  "I told the guys what you were after and I don't think we appreciate you being around here, so I why don't' you fuck off with your fudge packing friends you sick pervert."

    With that, Tommy's anger returned.  He was determined not to be the weak person that everybody was going to pick on, and he wasn't going to play their game or be toyed with by some closeted jock.

    "You didn't seem to think I was so horrifyingly disgusting on Saturday when you had your tongue down my throat did you?  I wasn't so bad when your fucking friends weren't around, was I?  You kissed me, Mark.  You kissed me, or did you forget about that?  So fuck you, okay?  I don't have to deal with this. Bollocks!  You can be a wanker, and you can pretend all you want to, but I will never be as gay as you are."

    Mark glared back at him.  He seemed to be at a loss at first, but as the standoff continued, Tommy could see the rage rise in his eyes.  Tommy had done one thing that he had never thought he'd do.  He had outed Mark in front of a locker room full of peers.  He wasn't surprise that Mark's eventual response was to hit him, but Tommy had been so set in his resolve to stare the captain down that he didn't have time to dodge.  The last thing he remembered was hitting  his head on a bench.

  We he regained full use of his faculties, Tommy realized that he was lying in the nurse's office with an ice pack on the back of his head, and Graeme was there.  He vaguely remembered a flurry of activity when he had bumped his head, and a stumble through the hallways, propped up by someone...he forgot who, in order to get to his current location.  Beyond that, everything was a blur.

    "I hurt all over," Tommy moaned at Graeme.

    "Want me to kiss it and make it better?"  Graeme asked, a facetious grin adorning his features.  Tommy smiled in spite of the throbbing of his head. 

    "You would like that wouldn't you?"  he said.  He smiled faintly, but then shuddered.  He didn't want anybody within a hundred yards of him at that moment; not even Graeme.  He was extremely tired of people touching him without permission.

    "Why are you even here?"  Tommy asked.

    "Billy stopped by my class and told me," Graeme divulged. 

    "Why did he do that?"  Tommy said curiously.  Billy was in his gym class.

    "I don't know," Graeme replied.  "It was weird.  Considerate but weird."

    "He thinks we have a thing going on," Tommy said. 

    "Really?"  Graeme seemed genuinely surprised, but not at all dismayed. 

    "Yeah," Tommy replied.  His smile returned.  "It might have something to do with you walking around all over the place with your arm around me, yeah?"

    "That?"  Graeme scoffed.  "Why not?  You're huggable."

    "You're ridiculous!" 

    They paused to consider each other for a moment before Graeme leaned over and ruffled his hair.  Tommy swatted his hands away and they both had a laugh.  Things were back to normal with Graeme again, and for that Tommy was grateful.  He didn't think he could handle the silent treatment any longer.

    Tommy's mother arrived shortly and dutifully cooed over his injuries.  Despite his insistence that the was fine, she was there to take him to the hospital.  He had passed out and bumped his head, and she wanted to be sure he was okay.  He wasn't okay though.  As he sat there, she hugged him, and he felt nothing but resentment towards her trying to pretend that everything was the same.  He had no problem laying the blame for all his troubles on her, whether it was reasonable or not.

    He had spent a lot of time over that weekend thinking about Richard, even though he hadn't particularly wanted to.  It was what Hope had said on Friday that had affected him so much.  Tommy missed him, and he worried about him every single day.  It didn't help that Nigel wouldn't tell him anything he didn't already know.  He would only tell Tommy that Richard was fine then urge him to let it be.  Tommy knew Richard wasn't fine, and there was nothing he could do about it.

    The next day Tommy joined Graeme for their usual ride to school, and once again silence reigned.  Tommy's face was bruised underneath his eye and there was a large welt on the back of his head.  It had continued to ache through the night even though the doctors had told him that he was fine.  Tommy knew Mark didn't know what he was doing, and that he wasn't at all receptive to the feelings he was having.  He had outed Mark and he felt increasingly guilty the more he thought about it.  Maybe, if he was lucky, Mark could deny it and nobody would be any wiser.  Maybe he couldn't though, and Tommy was scared that he might have ruined his life.

    They were sitting at a red light.  Graeme had noticed the silence.  The previous day's ride had been uneasy for him as he thought about that weekend, but he had shrugged it off as the day commenced and had gladly run to Tommy when he found out what Mark had done.  If there was one thing he was absolutely sure about, it was that he was going to back up his friend under any circumstances, and he knew that Tommy would do the same for him.  So as they waited there for the light to change, Graeme threw his arm around Tommy's shoulder, and when Tommy turned to glare at him, he was met with Graeme's lips on his.  It was a quick kiss, and then it was over.  Tommy stared at him, dumbfounded.

    "What'd you do that for?"  He asked.  "Anybody could have seen us!"

    "Well."  Graeme shrugged as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world to have done.  "If everybody already thinks we're an item, who the fuck cares?"

    Tommy smiled wanly at him and nodded.  He certainly didn't.

****

    Tommy knew there were going to be repercussions about what had transpired at school the previous day.  Before he had a chance to even reach his locker, the coach had ushered him off to his office where Mark Briar was already seated.  He looked scared, as Tommy knew he should have been.  He was already on the verge of getting kicked off the team for grades.  Fighting with a teammate would almost certainly get him benched.  Tommy took a seat next to him and they shared a frightened glance.  They were both in the same boat and they knew it.  One of them was going to be sitting out.

    "Would either of you care to tell me what happened yesterday?" Coach asked.

    "I took the first swing," Tommy lied instantly before Mark could gather his whits.  If there was one thing Tommy knew about Mark, it was that he had to think things over before speaking.  "Mark was only defending himself."

    "Is that true, Mark?"  He turned to the captain and regarded him skeptically.  Mark wasn't paying any attention to his coach though.  He was staring at Tommy Sinclair with his mouth unhinged in shock.  The coach repeated his name to get his attention.

    "No, Sir," he said briskly.  "I spoke first.  I took the first punch.  I showed blatant disrespect for a teammate and the rules of this school, not to mention the team.  It's my fault."

    "I started it," Tommy insisted.  "Really."

    Mark spoke out Tommy's name in a short burst of exasperation.   The coach was completely forgotten.  "I don't need you to take the blame for me, dammit!"  He said.  "I'm the one who was wrong!"

    Tommy ignored him.  "Really," he said to the coach.  "It's okay.  I did it."

    The Coach had enough of both of them at that point.  He brought about their silence by handing out dual punishments: a week long suspension from the team for each of them.

****

    Mark caught up with Tommy at lunch later that day.  Graeme had returned to class, which left Tommy alone at the spot they shared underneath the palm tree.  He was holding his English reading limply in his hand, thinking idly about Richard Blume and feeling all the more pathetic for it.  Mark didn't shuffle or act nervous.  He stood there for a moment contemplating his next move then sat down.  Tommy decided that he would wait and see what he had to say before storming off, which was his gut reaction to his uninvited guest.

    "You shouldn't have done that," he said harshly, which wasn't the apology Tommy had been hoping for.

    "A team needs its captain," he muttered.  "Not some homo, right?"

    He grimaced then.  "You know I didn't mean what I said."

    "I know.  You were just putting on a show for your admires."  Tommy scowled.

    "The fact is," he continued.  "You're a better player than I am, okay?  We needed you on the field."

    "What's done is done, Mark," Tommy replied. 

    "Yes," he agreed.  "What's done is done."

    "I'm sorry."  Tommy found himself apologizing.  "I shouldn't have told anybody what you did.  That was private, and I shouldn't have used it against you."

    "I shouldn't have been calling you names," he said. 

    "You're right," Tommy agreed.  He waited for the apology, but still the words did not come out his mouth.  Tommy was a forgiving person, and he understood that Mark had been scared, all he needed to forgive him were two small words.

    "I didn't mean it," he repeated himself.  "I couldn't even believe I said it.  It was just the guys...they were saying stuff.  Then you came around the corner..."

    "An easy target?"  Tommy asked.  Mark shifted his gaze towards the ground and didn't answer.

    "Look," Tommy said and cut to the chase, "I don't even know what you're doing here if you're not going to apologize to me."

    "I'm sorry!"  He said instantly and his head snapped up to stare at Tommy with tears brimming in his eyes.  "I'm so sorry, Tom.  I just don't know what the fuck to do with all this."  He gestured wildly between them and sighed despairingly.

    "The first step is to stop crying," Tommy said.  "We are not pussies.  We are men, and when we cry we don't do it in front of them."

    "Them?"  He sniffed and looked around the quad.

    "You know.  The breeders."  Tommy whispered in his ear.

    Mark choked on the laugh that sputtered forth from his lips.   "Shut-up!" he said.  "You're not even...you're not all the way gay."

    "Nah," Tommy replied.  He sat back against the palm tree and smiled at Mark.  "I'm gay enough though, right?  I don't think most people care to know the difference.  What about you?"

    "Totally gay," Mark said solemnly, then he started laughing again.  "I can say it now.  Thanks."

    Tommy bowed his head.  He didn't feel as if he deserved any sort of thanks for what had happened.  He hadn't been the kind of supportive friend that Mark had hoped for.

    "There's something else I can say now too."

    "What's that?"  Tommy asked. 

    "I've never met anyone like you before, and I...I like you," Mark divulged.  "I've been wanting to say that since the first day I met you."

    "You did a good job of it on Saturday," Tommy pointed out.

    "Yeah."  Mark frowned.  "I know, I just...that was stupid of me to try and do what I did.  I just don't know how it works.  I mean, do I ask you out?"  He gave Tommy a worried expression.  "Because I really like you, and I'm really fucking sorry about yesterday."  He continued to mistake Tommy's silent contemplation as another rejection.  "I mean, now that I'm out here at school, it'll be alright, won't it?"

    "Mark, it won't be easy," Tommy finally said.  "I like you enough to give you a chance if that's what you're asking, but I shouldn't be your first date, or kiss, or fuck or anything.  I'm damaged goods."

    "I don't care," Mark said.  "You're the first guy I've known that I've wanted to...that I've wanted to get to know better.  I mean, when you blurted all that shit out to the guys I was pissed, but they freaked out when I punched you.  They can act like assholes.  Guys say stupid shit all the time without thinking, like me, right?  But...you're still a teammate, Tommy.  I don't even know if they're more pissed off at me for what I did to you or if they're pissed off because I'm...you know.  I guess we'll find out."

    "Maybe," Tommy replied, "but if I had to wager a guess, I'd say they're going to mostly be angry that the best two players on the team have gotten themselves suspended for the week!"

****

    Madeline didn't respond at first when Tommy told her he had a date, and when she did it was only ask him how he could possibly move on so quickly from Hope.

    "We weren't in love.  It's just a date."  They were standing in the kitchen.  Tommy was drinking a glass of milk and his mother was eating a grilled cheese sandwich with her tea on the burner.

    "Do I know her?"

    Tommy was well aware of the fact that his mother wouldn't like the idea of him going out with a boy again.  With Richard out of the picture it was all too easy for her to believe it had all been a phase, and Tommy having met and dated Hope did nothing to quell that idea.  Tommy didn't really care about her feelings at that point though, nor did he care to explain that he usually found boys more attractive.

    "Mark Briar," Tommy said.  "He's captain of my football team.  You've met him...he's tall...kind of ginger?  Anyway, he asked me out.  I said okay."

    "Oh."  She paused.  "Are you going to tell your father?"

    Tommy shook his head.  He enjoyed having a father who was proud of him.  It was quite an unexpected feeling for him, and even though he knew his mother found it difficult to keep his secret he didn't care.  If she hadn't told him all those times she had spoken to him long-distance in England, he saw no reason why she should suddenly be so forthcoming with the man.  If Steven was going to find out, Tommy wanted it to be on his own terms.

    "You'd better not tell him either," Tommy warned her.

    "Okay, Thompson."

    Tommy left her then and took his glass of milk upstairs for his weekly call to Nigel.  He had a lot of things to tell his friend, and he hoped, even though he knew it was useless, that Nigel would tell him something about Richard besides the fact that he was still breathing.

    *****

    Graeme was not so forgiving when it came to Mark Briar.  He didn't understand how Tommy could even associate with the asshole who had punched him in the face let alone go on a date with the man.  That night he was lying on Tommy's bed watching him stand in front of the mirror inspecting his face and fluffing his newly touched-up dyed blond hair.  He was wearing the tightest shirt that Graeme had ever seen and he had the gall to pull it off.  Tommy could wear anything he wanted.  He finally put on his watch and applied his usually eyeliner and a dash of cologne.  He then turned to Graeme, but he didn't ask for an opinion.

    "I'm hot, aren't I?"  He said with a smug expression.

    Even though Graeme knew he was being facetious, he couldn't help but feel there was something else; that maybe Tommy was actually looking for reassurance that he did look good.  So Graeme stood up, crossed the room and gathered Tommy up in his arms.

    "You look great," he said.

    "I know."  Tommy arched an eyebrow at him as they parted and wondered how he could fool everybody but Graeme into thinking he had it all figured out.

    "Tonight.  Depeche Mode," Tommy announced as he clicked on his stereo.  It had been Depeche Mode for a week, and the week before that it had been some obscure London band that Graeme had never heard of.  He was glad Tommy was there to introduce him to new things; he was fervent about music, that was for sure and openly mocked Graeme for his more dubious choices in pop music guilty pleasures.  Graeme handled the teasing with aplomb and easily returned the favor by calling Tommy elitist.  He wondered how Tommy was going to handle it when Mark Briar flipped on his favorite mainstream hip-hop album en-route to dinner.  He didn't really trust Mark, and a tiny bit of him would have been happy if the date turned out to be a total failure, but for Tommy's sake he wasn't going to voice his thoughts.

    Tommy was doing his Dave Gahan impression in front of the mirror as he puttered around his dresser in search of accessories.  He'd once told Graeme not to fall in love, because nobody would ever hurt you as much as the ones you love.  Tommy had been hurt, but he would never utter a word against that Richard person.  He would barely even speak of him at all, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he was in love still, and even the mere mention of the guy's name was enough to make Tommy turn silent and introspective.  Graeme wished he had the capacity to love the way Tommy did so effortlessly.  Graeme didn't think he loved much of anything, nor did he care.  He had a staggering lack of ambition and was more than happy to just follow along with what people wanted him to do...his brothers, and his parents.  He had no idea what he was going to do with his life, and he thought it was pathetic.

    ***

    Graeme left about five minutes before Mark arrived, and Tommy was there to meet him at the door.  He didn't want his father to become suspicious.  Tommy was slightly surprised at the way Mark looked.  He was date-dressed for sure, and he had that smell of cologne and masculinity that was so very intoxicating.  Mark led him to the truck and opened the passenger side door, which immediately set Tommy off.

    "What are you doing?"  He snapped.

    "My mama always told me it's polite to open the door for your date," he said honestly and not sure what he had done wrong.

    Tommy told him to "never mind" and climbed into the cab.  Mark shut the door behind him and Tommy cringed.  He hated feeling like the 'girl', but he would indulge Mark for the time being.  He knew Mark wanted to get it right and Tommy didn't want to confuse him any further by complaining.

****

  Tommy vaguely wondered if Mark was always nervous on first dates.  The boy sat there next to him with a barrel of popcorn in his lap, hands shaking as he pulled the kernels from the bucket to his lips, cursing softly each and every time he dropped one on his shirt.  Tommy sat, intent on the movie, and quietly amused at his date's loss of fine motor skills. 

    "You're going to have to relax," Tommy whispered at him, and leaned slightly towards Mark, inviting any sort of contact. 

    Mark took a deep breath and sunk back into his chair.  He smiled sideways at Tommy.

    "I'm sorry.  This is kinda...weird..."

    "Yeah, it's a shit movie," Tommy agreed.  He smiled and glanced at the screen.  They had chosen the worst looking movie that they could find in hopes that the theater would be mostly empty.  They were right.  There were only three other people there. 

    "That's not what I meant...I just...I don't...I don't know what to do."

    "What do you want to do?"  Tommy glanced up at him.

    "I want to put my arm around you," Mark readily admitted.  "But I'm kind of afraid you're going to get mad at me again."

    "It's okay," Tommy reassured him.  "I'm really sorry about that thing with the door."  He tentatively reached over and patted Mark's knee, then rested his hand there.  "It's okay."  He repeated, and when Mark began tapping his foot nervously, Tommy rubbed his hand over his thigh. 

   Mark jumped in his seat, surprised at the contact, and the popcorn was jolted from his lap.  The bucket landed upside down between seats and popcorn scattered over their feet and the floor.  Tommy couldn't contain his laugh, and they incurred an angry "Shhh" from one of the few people in the theater.

    Mark glanced at Tommy, laughter now on apparent on his face.  They grinned, and bent their heads together in hushed giggles. 

    "Let's get out of here," Tommy announced moments later.

    Mark looked curiously at him.  "But the Movie..."

    "That we're not watching anyway?" Tommy pointed out.

    "You're right," Mark admitted.  "It was kind of a lame idea, but what else are we going to do?"

    "Let's go for a walk," Tommy offered.  "It's a nice night.  Maybe if we actually talk to each other, you won't be so damn awkward around me!"

    Even in the darkened room, Tommy could tell that Mark was blushing.  He glanced towards the screen one time, then back at Tommy, resolve set in his face.

    "Let's do it," he said.  Then he stood up and offered his hand. 

    Tommy grinned back and took it.

***

    The night was quiet and warm.  The wind had died down and there was nothing but the moonlight and stars and the sounds of night to keep them company.  They shuffled along quietly for a while, before either one was comfortable enough to break the silence.  In the end it was Mark.

    "So," he said.  "I've been meaning to ask...why are you here?  I mean, why Mesquite?  Seems like a strange place to want to move."

    "Oh," Tommy perked up in surprise at the question.  He supposed that he knew it was coming though. "I got expelled from school for marks on my disciplinary record."

    "What'd you do?"  Mark frowned. 

    "Nothing," Tommy replied honestly.  "Actually, first they just took away my scholarship...then I got expelled because I called the headmistress a liar.  I could have stayed if my dad didn't offer us shelter here.  My dad's American.  He's from Alabama.  Come down to it, so am I.  I was born in Alabama."

    "Never would have guessed that! You sound so... I like your accent."  Mark replied.  "Why'd you even go to England in the first place?"

    "My mum is English," Tommy explained.  "My uncle..."  he fell silent then and stopped walking so he could look up at the stars.

    "Hey?"  Mark said softly.  He veered close enough to bump shoulders with Tommy and get his attention.

    "Yeah," Tommy said.  He looked down at his feet and sighed.  "You don't look at the stars in the city, Mark.  There's too many distractions if you can see them at all.  I really want to hate it here...but you can see the stars."

    Mark nodded.  "It's not all bad.  Biggest city I've ever been to..."

    "Vegas?"  Tommy cut him off with a grin.

    "Yep," Mark said.  "You got me.  Talk about your distractions."

    "You'll have to take me there sometime," Tommy replied.  He glanced over at Mark, who was wearing a look of mild shock.  It was enough to spur Tommy on.  "We can make it a weekend."

    And just as easily as Mark's comfort had come, it left.  He was back to a nervous jittery mess.
    
    "You mean...like...together?  A..a..alone?"  He stammered.

    "Yes!"  Tommy agreed.  "Together alone.  There's a lot of things you can do together...alone."

    "Geez, Tom, I...don't know.  You said..."

    "Not, right now, this instant," Tommy clarified.  "Maybe someday.  When you aren't frightened of me anymore."

    "I'm not frightened of you!"  Mark refuted.  "I just like you, and you're fucking intimidating.  Walkin' around the school like you own the damn place no matter what anybody says about you."

    "I don't know how intimidating that is," Tommy scoffed at Mark's assertion.  "More like stupid, yeah?  I managed to get punched in the face by someone who likes me.  I'd hate to think what would happen if I crossed someone who didn't like me!"

    "Are you going to forgive me for that?"  Mark asked a bit sadly.

    "Yeah," Tommy replied.  "Of course.  Would we be here now if I hadn't?"

    "Guess you're right," he said.

    They paused there and both looked up at the sky.  After a few minutes passed, Tommy reached down and grasped Mark's hand in his own.

    "We should be getting back.  You made dinner reservations, right?" he said, and glanced sideways at Mark to gage his reaction.

    Mark looked down at their entwined hands.  He wore a smile and when he looked up at Tommy he burst into a wide grin.

    "I didn't freak out this time," he declared proudly.

    Tommy grinned back at him.  "You'll learn yet!"  Tommy said, and together they walked hand-in-hand back towards the movie theater parking lot.

***

    
   When they returned to Tommy's house Mark was wavering on how to bid his date goodnight, whether it be a kiss, or a hug, or a gruff handshake and a pat on the back.  Tommy saved him the trouble of a decision and stepped up to embrace him.

    "I had a good time, alright?"

    "Me too."  He grinned as they broke apart.

    They stood there inches apart, Mark was radiating happiness and Tommy wanted to kiss him, but he dare not do it in front of his house where his father could happen upon them.  Instead of giving in to temptation he asked Mark if he minded that he smoke.  If anything would deter Mark from engaging in another lip-lock it would be a cigarette.

    Mark said he didn't mind, and that he would see Tommy at school the next day.  He turned to leave, and suddenly Tommy didn't want him to go.  He threw the barely used cigarette on the stoop and stubbed it out with his toe.

    "Mark?"  He said.  "Would you like to come in?"

    "Oh, I don't know," he groaned.  Tommy was positive that he wanted to though and that his hesitation was stemming from what had happened the previous Friday.  Tommy stepped to him again and wrapped an arm around his waist.  He leaned up to whisper in his ear...

    "I promise I won't shove you off the bed this time," he said.

    Mark tried valiantly to hide his surprise at the offer, and nodded silent consent, so Tommy led him to his room for the second time.  He lay down on the bed, and Mark followed his example, but  once they had settled themselves they seemed to be paralyzed to go any further.  It took a good ten minutes for Tommy to finally move.  He sat up, and leaned down to kiss Mark.

    "I've never done this before," Mark admitted as soon as Tommy's lips left his.  He was nervous again, and Tommy hoped he wasn't expecting anything more than maybe a little make-out.

    "Don't be silly."  Tommy grinned down at him.  "You did this last Friday, and there was more tongue."

    "You know what I mean!"  Mark pushed Tommy back onto his side of the bed in a playful manner.

    "I hope you're not telling me you're a virgin," Tommy replied.

    "No, I'm not, but...I am.  You know?"  Mark stared up at the ceiling, suddenly embarrassed.  "What about you?"

    Tommy was surprised, and the innocence of that comment almost caused him to start laughing again.  Mark thinking that he might not have ever been with a boy before either was refreshing and relieving. 

    "I'm not."  Tommy shifted closer to him and leaned his head against his shoulder, grabbing his hand as he did, so they could both share the view.

    "Anybody I know?"  Mark asked.

    "If it were, I wouldn't tell you," Tommy informed him.  "He's in England."

    "Is he hot?"

    "Are you jealous?"

    "Maybe."  Mark shifted then, and Tommy could tell he was being looked at.  He kept his eyes pointed upwards though  and let his date take him in.

    "Don't worry about him," Tommy said.

    "He's why you're 'damaged goods', eh?"  Mark said.

    Tommy cursed silently then.  He knew in that instant that nothing else was going to happen with Mark that night, and all because he suddenly seemed to care about Tommy's life before America.  He wasn't going to let himself do anything, because he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that, since the subject had been brought up, he would only be able to think of Richard, and that wasn't fair to Mark.

    He was thinking of how best to address the delicate situation in a way that would extricate Mark from his bed without somehow stomping on his feelings when his mother burst in saving him the trouble.

    "I think you lads need to finish up in here."  She scowled down at them holding hands.

    "But we haven't even shagged yet!"  Tommy sat up and pouted at her.

    Mark was flabbergasted at Tommy's response and had jumped to his feet, but he had nowhere to run.  Madeline was standing between him and the door with her arms crossed.  Tommy stalked his way around the bed and patted Mark lightly on the arm.

    "It's okay, don't worry," he said.

    Mark looked anything but unworried.

    "You are not to entertain dates in your room, Thompson," she said.

    "Is this a new rule?"  Tommy asked.  "Because you know Hope and I were..."

    She cut him short by grunting and pointing the way out the door.  Tommy reluctantly grabbed Mark's arm and dragged him along back out to the stoop.  Even though Mark was nervous, Tommy gave him the kiss goodnight that he had been trying to avoid earlier.  Mark was compliant though his mind was elsewhere.

    "I had a good time," he said a moment after parting.

    "Me too," Tommy replied.  "We're doing this again, right?"

    "Definitely," Mark agreed.  "But...without the part with your mom, okay?  She's not going to be mad at you is she?  I mean, does she know?"

    "Yeah," he said.  "She's known since I was eleven.  I'm not very good at being 'In'...though my dad..."

    "Dads are tough," Mark said. 

    "Yeah," Tommy replied.  "He's willfully ignorant, and he can stay that way, so let's be discrete."
    
    "Good idea," Mark said.  "So..."

    "So, I'll see you tomorrow at school,"  Tommy said.  "We'll do something later this week, maybe after the game..."

    "The one that we're not playing in?" Mark laughed.

    "Yeah!  That one."

    They hugged once last time.

    "You're a great guy," Mark said in his ear.

    Tommy could think of nothing more articulate to say to that declaration than a thank you accompanied by his inevitable blush.  As soon as Mark had left Tommy was in the house brushing off his mother and her angry glances to get on the phone to Graeme so he could tell him all about how it had been the best date ever.