Contrary to what
people believed last time…it’s far from over!
Thanks for the encouragement to write more though. It gets even more dramatic before it ends!
And it still says *ongoing* as my status on this fic…so
don’t worry. I know I said I was
finished… but I just meant the chapter.
Chapter 8:
Jonathan was slowly destroying the
old Adam Bowen. The one respected by all
his peers, the one that made decent grades, the one that was popular- the one
that wasn’t a fag just like him. Now I
was being turned into a new Adam, and I didn’t know if I liked it. This Adam had feelings for a guy that he had
never felt before, had never felt were possible to feel before now.
I was miserable on Monday morning at
school. I had tried looking up Jon’s
number in the telephone book, phoned twenty seven different Davis’ and when I
finally found him, going back to the third number that I had got no answer on
before, he promptly made a quick excuse and hung up on me. I slouched to my classes and sat in them
feeling empty, not caring at all about what I was supposed to be learning. I idly took notes to look like I was paying
attention and to hopefully catch up on later.
When I waltzed into the cafeteria I got a less than pleasant greeting
from my friends. I looked towards where
Jon normally sat and he was nowhere to be seen.
Reluctantly, I sat down at my own table between Louis and one of Derek’s
friends. They both moved their seats as
far away from me as possible. I watched
as that sneer crossed Derek’s lips again.
“What are you doing sitting with us
for you faggot?” He spat mercilessly. I
glared at him then glanced around the cafeteria before loosing it and lunging
over the table at Derek, grabbing the collar of his shirt in both hands. I was completely and totally sick of his
behavior over the past week.
“Don’t you ever call me that.” I hissed at him with a more acidic tone than I ever
thought I could produce.
“Why don’t you run off with your
little boyfriend and go get AIDS.” Derek teased again, and loudly might I add, not caring about my
firm hold on him.
“Fuck you!” I growled.
“Don’t you want to fuck him?” Derek
said. His response was a little too
cocky, a little too gutsy and I finally decided to punish him for it, put him
in his place. I pulled one arm back as I
held him in place and smacked him with my closed fist, right in the cheek
before I shoved him back into his plastic chair which tipped over and tossed
him onto the floor. I stalked out of the
cafeteria before I could get caught and reprimanded for my actions by the on
duty teacher. Before I had made it out
the door I heard one of the guys call something from behind me;
“Going to cry in the bathroom like your
little boyfriend?”
I stalked off down the hall, smashing my fist against a locker or
two in frustration, and finally went around the corner and went to the
bathroom, not to cry, but to simply splash cold water on my face to calm me
down. When I entered I heard a sniff and
then silence. Someone was in one of the
stalls. Suddenly that comment in the
cafeteria meant something other than an insult.
I frantically looked under the stall doors until I found Jon’s worn out
tennis shoes at the very end. I could
hear his breathing. I hesitated at the
door. He was pissed off at me. Maybe
he doesn’t even need to know I’m here. I
can cool down and leave. Then you would
be a shitty boyfriend, after all, you are
still going out with him. I gave the
door of the stall a slight push and it didn’t budge. It was locked.
“Jon let me in.” It was the first words I had said to him since I
tried to call him on Sunday. There was
silence for a moment.
“Fuck off Adam.” A growl from within the stall finally said. I shrugged.
“If you don’t let me in, I’m coming in weather you like it or
not.” I threatened. Jonathan said
nothing. Finally I turned and went into
the stall next to him, standing on the toilet and hoisting myself up over the
cubicle’s wall. I looked down to see
Jonathan sitting there, feet pulled up onto the seat, half challenging me to
actually go though with it. I did, and
was relieved when I finally dropped to the floor from my uncomfortable position
of straddling the cubicle wall.
“What do you want?” Jonathan finally muttered. He was looking down at the floor, his feet
and the rest of him pulled up onto the toilet seat.
“I’m supposed to be your boyfriend right?” I confirmed. He looked at me for a moment skeptically
before nodding slowly.
“Soooooo…I’m here to talk to you. Something happened? Are you alright?” I said. This was so hard.
“Your friends beat the shit outta me
again, you lied to me, and my mind is a fucking mess, but other than that life
is just peachy fucking keen.” Jon spat bitterly.
“I didn’t mean to lie.” I said quietly, “I felt bad okay? You know I felt bad! I fucking tried to make it up to you and you
pushed me away.” I finished,
my frustration now very
apparent. Jon looked at me, eyes
narrowing to slits.
“Fucking with people doesn’t make problems go away. It makes them worse.” Jon growled at me. I heard the door to the bathroom open and
someone walk in. Both Jon and I remained
silent until the person left.
“Can we please go somewhere else?” I begged.
“Where, your bedroom?” Jon spat coldly, “So you can ‘make things
up to me’ again?”
“Stop it.” I muttered.
“Why? Do you feel bad? Am I making you feeling bad?” Jon hissed,
head tilting to the side in a scary, macabre manor. He stood up and took a step towards me.
“Well someone should fucking feel bad for all the shit I have been
put through!” He growled. He was
shaking- hard. His eyes depicted that he
was off somewhere else that I would never know.
Something told me I should be glad that I wasn’t there. I backed up into the stall door. The normally protective
space now feeling claustrophobic.
I unlocked the door and stepped outside of the door, into the main part
of the bathroom.
“Jon, come on.” I said quietly, putting an arm around his
shoulders and intending to at least get him to follow me outside.
“Fuck off!” He finally hissed, shoving me hard into the sinks
behind me. I straightened quickly and
lunged at Jon. He was psychotic. I wrapped my arms around his thin torso,
pinning his own arms at his sides. Immediately
a struggle ensued and Jonathan’s legs were flailing. I really didn’t give a flying fuck as I
heaved him out into the hall and dragged him down it. Nobody cared at all. He was just the school faggot to them. For all they cared I could be going to kick
the shit out of him like I used to do.
I made it out to the parking lot with Jon who had finally given up
struggling and now was as limp as a rag doll in my arms, defeated. I deposited him into the backseat of my car,
and got in the drivers side, then drove.
***
He had no idea. We sat again, in his bedroom. How I got there was still fuzzy to me. I remembered being at school- then suddenly
being at Adam’s. At least we sat on the
floor, and both of us were fully clothed.
Adam wore a sad look on his face.
He was truly sorry. I knew
because he wasn’t trying to touch me or make my problems, our problems, go away
sexually. I took a deep shuddering
breath, weak with uncried sobs.
“Are you going to tell me what’s
wrong now? Or am I skipping English for
no reason?” Adam said finally. I was
shaking but I knew that truth would have to be told somehow. Adam was my boyfriend. I had to keep telling myself that. Shouldn’t I be honest with him? After all, he loved me, he cared about me,
believe it or not, and he should know things like what I was about to
divulge. I took a deep breath.
“What I’m about to tell you, is
something you may not want to hear.” I mumbled, finding it hard to keep the
intended strength in my voice. Adam
looked at me pointedly, saying without words that he would not leave. I shifted and sat cross legged then looked at
my hands.
“The other night I felt…used. It brought back memories of something I
really wanted to forget.” Adam gave me a
look that told me to go on. “When I was a little kid, my parents got
separated. There was a lot going on in
my house- my Dad moved out and my mom had to work two jobs to take care of
us. I was left with a babysitter a
lot. He was a man that lived two houses
away on our street. He wasn’t married
and he worked a nightshift somewhere, so my mom hired him.” The background of my life came out calmly,
but I started to fidget when the hard parts started to come, “His name was
Gary…Hunter I think..” The memory of the man made me
start to shake. His hands all over me,
doing things to me, that, even at my young age, I knew were wrong, “He…when he
babysat me…he was nice…for a little while…especially when my Mom was around,
just about to head out the door or something.
Then he stopped being nice…”
“He hit you?” Adam asked softly when
I trailed off, unable to continue. I
looked up, the tears in my eyes starting to spill over and flow down my
cheeks. I shook my head. Then in a near whisper
admitted my horrible secret.
“He made me do things, touch him,
let him touch me.” I let out a sob before my final words left my mouth; “He
raped me.” I watched Adam’s face for a
reaction. He was searching my tear
streaked face for something and then I saw his lower lip tremble, his forehead
crease.
“He raped you…” He said softly, “but
you were just a little kid…” He said in disbelief. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe what I had
just told him. It was more that he
couldn’t understand that someone could be so evil. Then Adam got mad. He stood up and he kicked his desk
chair. It smashed into the floor,
narrowly missing me. It was the cracking
sound it made that really made me crash hard into reality. I had just told Adam one of my darkest
secrets. One I had told nobody else
since I was a child but my parents. I
sobbed out loud and tears came. Adam
stopped his outburst and looked at me.
“Didn’t you tell your parents? Didn’t they do anything? Isn’t this fucker in jail?” He yelled.
“I told my parents..but…but…they ddd… didn’t….be…believe mmm..me.” I sobbed out.
Adam dropped to his knees beside me and opened his arms, which I
hesitantly crawled into. He was so
angry. I was starting the cycle
again. Neither of us could say anything
to each other. I was so ashamed of my
confession. I couldn’t help but feel
that I shouldn’t have said anything and should have kept it all inside, releasing it only in metaphorical poetry and songs
that nobody else would ever see. Adam
rubbed my back gently and I lay in his arms crying until I guess I eventually
fell asleep.
When I woke up, moonlight was streaming in on my face. The reality hung over me like a dark cloud
that I had just told somebody something I shouldn’t have. Funny though, how I always
seemed to end up here at Adam’s house, in his bed now. Maybe I wanted it. Maybe I was just a whore and wanted to get
fucked all along. Was it possible for a
kid to be a slut?
“I’m a whore…” I mumbled when the thought came to my mind. I had forgot Adam
was probably in the room.
“Don’t say that.” He immediately said from the doorway. I jumped.
He was holding a glass of water and was wearing just his jeans.
“What time is it?” I muttered, attempting to drop the subject.
“9:30,” Adam replied shortly, “and why did I just catch you
calling yourself a whore?”
“Forget about it.” I muttered and lay back down where I was on the
bed, smushed up to the wall.
“No.” Adam insisted and climbed into the bed beside me. I subconsciously moved as far away as I
could, my back pressing into the wall.
He slid up close to me.
“You were a child.” He said quietly.
“That doesn’t mean that I couldn’t have been a whore if I hadn’t
wanted to.” I said in excuse.
“You were less than six years old, that’s not possible, how the hell could you know what you were doing?” Adam
replied quietly. I looked down. He had a point. I could easily remember the confusion now
that I had experienced, knowing it was bad in some way but if it was bad, why
was I doing it? Why was a grown up
making me do something bad?
“You’re right.” I finally admitted, but I couldn’t look into his
face and say that. I felt like the
statement was a lie, though I knew it to be true.
Everything was silent between the two of us for several minutes as
Adam stared at me. There was something
in his eyes I had never seen in a person before. Something that drew me to
him at a level that I didn’t understand.
“I-I.” I stuttered in an excuse of sorts to get
out of the situation, out of the moment, but it didn’t work, and
“Jon don’t do that!” He said softly.
“I want to.” I said before I rolled us over, Adam half willing, so
that he lay on his back with me in the dominant position. I undid his jeans quickly and pulled them off
over his feet before I could regret my own actions. Adam’s breathing became shallow as he watched
me. My hands shook and I tried to blank
out the images in my head of me as a child.
Right now I knew what I was doing…when I shouldn’t have. I let my fingers gently trace the outline of
Adam’s erection through his boxers.
Again he reached to grab at my wrist but I swatted him away.
“At least lock the door.” He practically hissed. I smirked and went to the door on shaky jelloish legs, simply flicking over the lock before I
climbed right back into the bed. As soon
as I resumed my position on top of Adam, his hands slid under my shirt,
indicating that he wanted it gone. I
pulled it off over my head and threw it carelessly to the floor before going
back to what I had been doing. My
fingers were gently as I slowly slid up to the waist band of Adam’s boxers and
started to pull them down with two fingers, one at either side of his pelvis. He immediately grabbed my wrists.
“Don’t do this. Don’t do
something you’ll regret.” He warned me, “slow down a little.”
“I won’t regret this.” I said with as much strength as I could
muster, though I was just as hesitant as he was. I pulled his boxers down over his feet,
finding it hard to focus on his face, rather than…well- elsewhere. He was already semi erect, which meant I
didn’t have much to do. I swiftly moved my
head down to meet his neck, before kissing and licking a slow descent down his
torso until I reached his belly button.
His breaths were coming in quick pants now. I took a deep breath, not hesitating any
further and took him into my mouth. Adam
let out a startled gasp and his hands went down to twine in my hair
immediately. My hands held his hips
pinned to the bed as I gently sucked. I
could hear pleas from above but ignored them until finally I felt
“What?” I asked, slightly angered that he had stopped me. I was in control, and suddenly I was poor
little submissive Jonathan again- a little boy, being told what to do and when
to do it. I hated this feeling.
Okay short note…
This chapter was
short because I had a choice to either make it really long or not so long so yeah…more to come…sorry for the
shortness people.