A Summer of Firsts - Reimagined

Button jeans put a hand under Nick's arm and urged him to his feet.

"Come on kid. We've been here too long. There's sure to be a rent-a-cop in here." He smiled as Nick's face fell. "Don't worry little brother. I know you got a raging nut on." The smile fell from his face and he stepped to the urinal and began to fasten his pants. "But not here. Seriously, zip up man."

The worry in his voice was clear and Nick hurried to the urinal, trying to stand as if he'd just finished taking a leak. Despite the anxiety button jean's voice had stirred Nick's cock was still rock hard, making it difficult to get everything squared away. Button jeans whispered as he turned toward the sinks.

"Food Court."

The bathroom door opened as button jeans began to turn the crank on the towel dispenser. Nick was experienced enough not to jerk his head around, instead he shook his hand a few times, as if he were shaking off, finished zipping his jeans and turned toward the sinks.

It wasn't a rent-a-cop. It was a real cop, a county deputy, Buster brown belt and all. He walked past Nick with a glance but without saying a word and used his foot to push open the door to the first stall. It was fortunate that Nick had turned when he did, fortunate in that it caused the deputy to look at him. If he hadn't been looking at Nick, he might have noticed the pool of cum on the floor. It was a lot and it was rapidly taking on the consistency of water. If the deputy had seen it, he couldn't have proved anything but in Nick's wired state, to say nothing of the guilt and shame he was holding bottled up inside, he probably would have blurted out a confession if the cop had so much as raised an eyebrow.

As it was, Nick elected to skip washing his hands in favor of getting the hell out of the bathroom as fast as he could. He hurried toward the mall exit, telling himself there was no way he was going to meet button jeans in the food court. What if someone he knew saw them? Nick had his hand on the bar of the door before he changed his mind. It didn't matter how he yelled at himself. It didn't matter if he call himself "faggot" or "queer" or "pervert". It didn't matter that he knew what he had done, what he wanted to do, was a sure fire ticket to Hell.

The lies he told himself continued as he walked back to the food court, trying not to hurry. He told himself he was going just to prove he wasn't a pussy. The guy was probably already gone. If he was still there, Nick would give him a polite, but subtle, nod and leave.

What he did was scan the scattered folks at the tables. He didn't see anyone he knew, except for button jeans, sitting by himself, as far from the other patrons as possible. He nodded at Nick. Nick nodded back. He ordered a baked potato, loaded, that he didn't think he could eat and a large Coke. He kept telling himself he wasn't going to sit with button jeans, even as his feet carried him over to button jeans' table. The man said nothing as Nick sat down.

Nick arranged his food on the plastic tray, grimacing that the tray was still wet, trying to convince himself that was a good thing; it meant the tray had been washed. Nick took a bite of the potato and realized he was hungry. As he chewed, button jeans took a swallow of his own drink.

"Man that was close, too close." He whispered, shaking his head. His face was stern when Nick looked up.

"I know what it's like to be a horny teenager but don't even think about going back there for at least a couple of weeks. Deputy dog doesn't have to be Sherlock to remember seeing you, or me, in there. In fact if he comes down here, you're my brother. Got it?"

Nick nodded.

"They love busting fags. If you're lucky, they'll drag you to the courthouse without kicking your ass, but you aren't always lucky. I've never been busted here. To be truthful, I don't usually come here to cruise. Never shit in your own nest little brother, remember that."

Button jeans took another bite of his burrito and grimaced. "Fucking poor excuse for a burrito." He squirted a whole back of Fire sauce on the end of it and tossed the packet onto an impressive pile of its emptied brethren, took another bite, and chewed, muttering curses at Taco Bell the entire time.

Nick, who liked Taco Bell, said nothing, and focused instead on eating his baked potato.

After swallowing, button jeans wiped his right hand on his jeans and held it over the table.

"I'm Jack by the way." Nick hesitated, then took the hand and shook it.

"Nick," he mumbled so softly that Jack grinned.

"Relax man. It's cool." He squirted another packet of Fire sauce on the end of the burrito and took another bite. He chewed, minus the muttered curses, took a long pull on his soda, and rested his hands atop the table.

"You ever been busted Nick?"

Nick paused in the midst of swallowing, eyes widening in horror as he shook his head. Busted? He'd kill himself before he'd call his mom and tell her he'd been arrested for being a fucking faggot.

His horror was easy enough to see. When Jack spoke his voice was soft, concerned. His hand twitched but he refrained from resting his hand on the Nick's arm.

"Relax Nick. It's no big deal. The worse is if you get a cop that likes to rough up queers. Otherwise, they take you in. It's a misdemeanor. They tell you if you get caught again they'll toss you in the slam. They'll always hit you up for fifty plus twenty-five for court costs and off you go." Jack cocked an eye at Nick. "Better still? Don't fucking get busted."

Jack shook his head.

"Don't initiate contact, ever. Let the other guy make the first move and I mean he needs to show you his dick. If he just crooks a finger under the stall, or is peeking in the door, don't do a goddamn thing. Nothing. I should have warned you that first day. That's why I've been coming back, looking for you."

Jack implied he'd been searching for Nick in order to warn him. Nick was a sheltered kid but not a stupid one. If Jack had only been interested in warning him, why did he let Nick suck his dick before warning him?

As if reading his mind, Jack shook his head. When he spoke Nick could hear the irritation in his voice. He took comfort in knowing the irritation was not directed at him. Jack was pissed at himself.

"I don't know what the fuck I was thinking. Never do shit like that. Don't do it in the stall either. You think Dudley Do Right can't look in a stall as easy as you can? If you're going to do something, do it at the urinals, and don't do anything besides unzip. You hear that door, you want to be able to jump in front of the urinal and look like you're just finishing a piss."

He shook his head. Nick thought he should. The man had broken every rule he'd just recited to him.

"A quick blow and go is the most you can hope for it a john, more is too risky. You can always move it out to your car or the park or something." He looked sharply at Nick. "And don't be going off to some guy's house, not in his car anyway." He shook his head and looked disgustedly at the mostly eaten burrito. He shoved it away as if he'd just spotted half a cockroach in it.

"How old are you Nick? Please God, if you're under sixteen lie to me and promise me you'll forget my stupid face and close your eyes while I crawl out of here."

"I'm nineteen." Jack raised an eyebrow. "I'll be nineteen on my birthday." Nick saw no reason to tell the guy his birthday was ten months away.

Jack sighed. "I'm twenty-four. Now, not 'on my birthday'." He shook his head. "Christ if you'd have been sixteen or something, I'd have considered going home and blowing my brains out. Maybe I ought to anyhow. I'm getting pretty fucking stupid in my old age."

Nick, who had only ordered a bake potato because he didn't think he'd be able to eat, was still hungry. He pointed at the bite or two of burrito left on Jack's plate.

"You going to eat that?"

Jack stared at him, then snorted. "No, little bro, take it." As Nick pulled the paper wrapper toward him, Jack added, "Remind me to get you some real Mex food sometime, not this Taco Smell shit."

Nick made quick work of the residual burrito, wondering why Jack was bitching about it so much. He didn't mind Taco Bell.

As he ate, his boner had faded but not completely. Now, food gone, and last swallows of Coke completed, Nick became aware of the steady ache in his balls. He pushed his chair back.

"Where you going?"

"Home." Nick could think of no other place to go.

"Uh, what about..." Jack nodded his head. Nick looked down. His boner was tenting his jeans. He sat back down.

"Why don't you come to my place?" Nick frowned. Jack smiled. "Fine, I just told you not to do that but I said 'don't go in their car'. You got your own car right? Here I'll show you my license. You'll know everything about me." He leaned to one side and reached behind his back.

"Why?" Nick asked and Jack stopped. "I mean what good will knowing your whole name and address do if you got me tied up in your basement or bash my head in with a rock?"

Jack quit fishing for his wallet. "Nothing I guess. Never thought of it like that." He shrugged. "Come on. You follow me. If you change your mind just keep driving. I'm not a serial killer or anything. All I want to do is finish what I started earlier. I think you do, too?"

Nick followed him. Jack was parked one row over from Nick. He drove an old Chevy pick-up but one with intact rocker panels and one that had been washed within the past decade. Nick climbed behind the wheel of his Pinto and pulled out, still not sure he was doing to follow Jack to his home.

--

It was a simple brick bungalow, on the edge of town. There was a Peterbilt with a sleeper cabin parked behind the house near a red metal barn. Between the barn and the house, a large propane tank sat amid silver-splattered weeds, which bore witness that it had been recently painted. Jack pulled into the gravel driveway, with its dusty green center strip of weeds. The county road had no shoulders so Nick had no option but to pull in and park behind the pick-up. He no longer pretended going home was an option.

Nick climbed out of his car, doing his best to appear casual. He left the windows down, wishing there was some shade to park the car in, then wondering if he'd be here long enough for the interior to get hot.

Jack waited for him. He dropped one hand casually on Nick's shoulder as they walked to the house. Nick, whose dick had been in a perpetual state of confusion and excitement, pumped itself back to full tumescence at the touch of Jack's hand. Jack led him to a side door that opened onto the kitchen. Jack held the screen door open and Nick walked into the small room. The door slammed behind him and he flinched, partly in surprise and partly as a conditioned response, expecting his mom to bellow, "How many times have I asked you not to let the screen door slam?!"

She didn't of course but a voice from deeper inside the house did.

"Jack, damn it, what if I was sleeping?"

Before Nick could open his mouth, a women appeared under the arched entry to the kitchen. Her face was hidden by the towel she was using to dry her hair. She was naked. Nick's mouth opened and closed like a fish tossed up on the river bank.

"Retta, baby, we got company." To Nick's surprise, Jack didn't sound worried or upset, only amused.

The woman let the towel drop.

"Damnit Jack, I've asked you a thousand times to call first."

Nick's mouth stopped moving and simply hung open. He thought he might faint. He wished he would, or he wished his feet would unglue themselves from the floor and start running.

Too late, the woman dropped the towel to the floor and clapped her hands.

"Nicky? What the hell? Jack how did you..." Loretta, as she had always been known to Nick stopped speaking. She turned, looking first at Jack and his smiling mug, and then Nick and his flaming countenance. Loretta shook her head in disbelief.

"No way baby. Did you meet Nicky where I think you did? Is he the one you been trying to warn away from the mall? Nicky?"

Jack stepped around Nick and walked to the refrigerator. He pulled out a can of PBR and popped the top. He offered it to Loretta, who stepped over the towel to take it from his hand. Nick was trying not to stare. He had never seen a woman naked. He had never even seen his girlfriend's breast exposed before.

Loretta's breast were beautiful. He had always suspected that. She was three years older than him. He'd been a freshman. She'd been a senior in his freshman American History class. She had to pass it to graduate, and so far had failed. She latched onto Nick, possibly because it was clear he was the smartest kid in the class or perhaps because she knew, from the first look on his face, that she could have him eating out of her hand.

"Beer, Nick?" He heard Jack ask. He'd never drank alcohol before but at this point he imagined there wasn't much to lose, besides he felt like he needed something. He nodded.

"Good fucking deal, brother." Jack replied, with what Nick was learning was his usual enthusiasm.

"So how do you know Retta?" Jack inquired, handing Nick the can of beer. The first taste was not promising and Nick forced himself not to grimace as he lowered the can from his mouth.

"He was my tutor," Loretta chirped, clapping her hands once more and making her breasts jiggle in a very distracting way, to Nick at least. Jack appeared unfazed. "Nicky is the reason I can stand before you," at that she threw her arms out, imitating a Hollywood star greeting her fans, and totally fucking with poor Nick's tormented cock, "as a proper graduate of Bum Fuck Illinois Senior High. Ta-da." She ended with a flourish and a bow.

"Seriously. Far fucking out." Jack shook his head, took a drink of his own beer and then leered at Nick. "And what did my lovely little Retta tutor you in, little brother?"

Loretta crossed the room and smacked Jack on the arm. "You know better than that. Nick was a sweetheart and a gentleman." She let the giddy, aren't-I-just-a-ditz, look drop from her face. She spoke to Jack but her eyes were on Nick. "He didn't treat me like I was stupid. Not once. I'm not stupid."

Nick had not a clue what to do. Loretta looked as if she were about to burst into tears. Jack's smile was gone but he watched, unperturbed, and waited for her to continue. When she did, she was talking more to herself than to either of the men in the room.

"All those counselors, with their degrees in those shitty frames, all the special ed teachers, and it was Nick who figured out why I couldn't read." Jack glanced at Nick but Loretta didn't notice, or didn't care. "He realized I remember what he said, once I got over being pissed at having to be stuck in American History again and actually listened to him."

Nick nodded, not realizing he was doing so. God she had been pissed. At first, she wouldn't even talk to him. He was afraid she'd caught him staring at her chest or something but no, she was simply tired of retaking the class. It didn't take him long to realize Loretta was far from dumb. Once she heard something, figured it out, she had it.

Loretta smiled at Nick, as if she knew what he was thinking. "Once he figured out I had a good memory he couldn't figure out how I kept failing the class. It was the same subject. One, I stopped listening; I was so pissed. And, two, I never had the same teacher twice, so I couldn't just memorize the tests."

"So what did you do?" I took Nick a minute to realize Jack was talking to him. He shrugged.

"I don't know. For one, I convinced her it was kind of silly to not graduate because you were mad people thought you weren't smart. But more important, I think, was I realized she had a lot of trouble reading."

Jack shook his head. "That's bullshit. She has books stacked all over the place. She's constantly reading."

Loretta shook her head. "Sure, now. Not then. When I would start to read I would get to a spot, a word usually, or sometimes a sentence, and I would get stuck. I'd keep ramming my head into it, spinning my wheels, and never getting anywhere until I'd get pissed, or a headache, or both, and stop."

"So what did he do?" Jack asked, looking between Nick and Loretta.

Loretta giggled. "Told me to go around."

"Huh?" Jack asked, perplexed.

Nick answered. "I told her to go around, just like you would a pot hole or something. Don't keep digging the hole deeper. Almost always, the next words or sentence will make sense, even if you skip something. Plus, you don't usually have to skip it completely. Most of the time, something a little later on will make it clear what you were stuck on."

"So, that's what I did. I learned to go around." There was a justifiable tone of pride in Loretta's voice. "I got an 'A' in that fucking class. They were sure I was cheating. They wouldn't believe what Nick tried to tell them about my problems with reading. Why would they? It'd mean 'fessing up to the fact they didn't know what the fuck they were doing wouldn't it? After the first test I aced, they called me down to the principal's office and jumped up and down, telling me I needed to tell them who I cheated off of. For the second test, they made me sit in the principal's office. That dried up old cunt that use to suck his dick, sat there too, scowling and mumbling about wasting her time on 'trash'. I aced that one as well."

"That must have shut them up." Jack offered.

Loretta snorted. "Hardly, they acted like I had some kind of microphone hidden in my hair or something and that Nicky was telling me the answers, like there was any way for him to see what was on my test and ignoring the fact he was in the class, taking the test himself. Stupid assholes."

"They made her take an essay test next." Nick reported in a soft voice. "No one gave essay test in those general ed classes, too many students and too hard to grade."

"I was totally freaking when they told me." Loretta chimed in. "Writing was as hard for me as reading, harder in some ways, once you go around the detour in your head there ain't no landmarks, no clues, not like in a book." She gritted her teeth in remember anger. "Nicky saved the day again. By now he was pissed." She looked at Nick. "For a time I was worried you'd run off, you seemed awful nervous."

Nick blushed, shamed that she had read him so well. "I almost did." He started to say his mom told him to steer clear of "troublemakers" but decided blaming his mom only made him look like a bigger pussy. "I almost did. I had never been in trouble at school. I was afraid I'd get in trouble if I pushed back, made waves. Then I did get pissed off. I was the one who figured out why Loretta was having trouble. I was the one who helped her figure out a way to make it work for her and now they were going to ignore that? They'd rather fail her than admit they'd fucked up? What kind of total bullshit is that?"

Loretta giggled. "He threw such a fit, they gave me an oral exam." She saw Jack start to smirk. "Shut up asshole, you know what I mean. They kept trying to throw me, not giving me time to collect my ideas, you know? But, you know what? Freshman American History just ain't that hard. They had to pass me."

Jack shook his head. "But what about the rest of your classes?"

"There isn't a lot of reading in home ec and phys ed. And math, math was always easy."

Jack looked at Nick, no longer smiling. He looked upset, pissed even.

"You did all that for Retta? You had her back at that rat hole they call a school?"

Nick shrugged, thinking Jack was pissed at the school and not him but not totally sure about it. Jack turned to Loretta.

"Babe, I brought Nick here home 'cause I owe him. I damn near got him arrested. That's bad but what's worse, after he gave a damn fine BJ for a beginner, I left him hanging, so to speak."