If I Had Known

Author: LYK (Amethyst_Lover@hotmail.com)

Title: If I Had Known

I don\'t think he was ever really in my life, maybe he just happened to be living in the same house that I did, married to the woman who gave birth to me. I still think of him as my father, even after all the shit he put us through. I hate him as much as I can, but most of me is just too tired to hate anymore. There are three parts to my life so far: life with Dad, life after Dad, and life after Phillip. The second one was pretty good, but the third is my favorite, even if it was rocky, even if I\'m still living it. I wonder what the next part of my life will be... And if Phillip will be there. My mom just looks at me and shakes her head sometimes. She\'s pretty good with it, though, alingsings considered. He\'s on the right track now, at least. I always thought my life was hell (and it was), but Phillip... I\'d never want to be him.

chapter 1

Life after I moved in with Mom was kinda strained. She didn\'t know all the things that had happened while I was trapped with my father for those two months, and I never offered any information. How could I tell her, when I was still denying it to myself? I guess the counseling helped, but she didn\'t learn anything she hadn\'t lived with herself. The beatings, belittling, all the usual stuff. Eventually, we adjusted, and things smoothed out. She kept apologizing for the longest time about leaving me there with him, and I kept reminding her that she had no choice. He had gotten the lock changed after she left that day, and she had no way to get in the house to get me. I was only twelve, so it\'s not like I could pick the damn thing. But eventually, she got me safe in her house, and we moved on with our lives. I never told her about what he did to me; you just don\'t tell your mother that kind of shit. I had five years to adjust to living in a shitty apartment with a black & white TV, and then boom - ovedoved. Apparently, her parents had been helping her invest and save money so we could live somewhere decent. So we moved, and I had a whole summer to wonder just how bad my new school would be. It\'s pretty fucked up, making a kid leave his school right before junior year, but it\'s not like I had any say in it. Besides, having an actual bathtub was rather appealing. Anyway, there\'s not much to say about the summer - the neighbors whispered, I kept to myself as usual, Mom tried to do that bonding shit with me. I guess the real story begins once school let in. That\'s when I met Jamey, and she warned me about \"that kid who cuts people\'s hair sometimes\". Phillip wanted to be a hairstylist, so he\'d cut people\'s hair for some cash. He was saving up to go to \'beauty school\'. Most of the money, though, came from prostitution. Jamey whispered to me that the only reason he even came to school was to have a place for his customers to pick him up and somewhere to use as an alibi for the authorities. When she first pointed him out to me, he was wearing a black fishnet shirt over a black tank top and black jeans. His shoes were boots, and his hair was blonde, shaved in the back but to his chin in the front. He looked obviously queer, and no one went near him unless they were desperate for a haircut or something. He stayed by himself most of the time, ignoring the taunts and occasional thrown objects intended for him. So, I shrugged off his existence like Jamey told me to, taking tips from her about how not to get my ass beaten within the first month of school. She was pretty for an oddball, with reddish hair cut short and neat little glasses that suited her. I guess some would call her a \'geek\' because she\'s so damned smart, but I think Jamey\'s more of a punk at heart. Who says a punk can\'t be smart and not do drugs? I\'ll bet my fucked up life that anyone who says that has never met this chick. It\'s pretty funny, too - she calls herself \'chick\' and other things most girls would balk at. Jamey\'s got a good sense of humor, which is why we bonded so quickly, I guess. I don\'t know why she decided to help a scrawny loser like me survive that school. Whatever her reasons, I\'ll love that bitch for the rest of my life for it. Don\'t worry - she calls herself that, too.

I keep wanting to get straight to the good part, to when I met Phillip, but patience has never been a virtue in my world. Classes sucked as they do in any school, and Mom thought that her being involved in my entire life would help us \'understand each other\'. Shit - I\'m just glad I never kept a diary. If Jamey were here right now, she\'d make some big scene about me saying \'diary\' instead of \'journal\'. Fuck her. It\'s the same concept, right? But I digress... Phillip was in my chemistry class. He sat in the back of the row closest to the door, hidden snugly by cabinets and people. The first day of school, I noticed that people tended to avoid sitting near him, and as the week went on, I would walk in to see a fucking circle of empty desks surrounding his. I don\'t know why, but it really pisse ofe off. I mean, they didn\'t even know the guy! How the fuck could they judge him on rumors and shit? I griped about it to Jamey, and she advised me to ignore it if I knew what was good for me. Of course, I didn\'t, so what did I do? I went and sat in the seat next to him one day. Looking back at it, it\'s funny to remember how some people just blinked and stared, and how some whispered urgently to each other. I think even Phillip stared, though I don\'t blame him. If some weird guy just came and sat next to me one day when no one else would, I\'d stare, too. I tried to avoid looking at him, because I was just trying to prove a point, I told myself. Actually, I wanted to prove Jamey wrong more than anything. As smart as she was, she liked to play it safe in life, tried to stay on the mainstream \'look at me, I can fit in\' list. I think I wanted to show her that even she needs to give people a chance, no matter how others view her for it. But I\'m not Jamey - I realize that now. Even if she did eventually warm up to Phillip, it\'s because she\'s my friend, no other reason. It was either ignore me or accept the situation, and thankfully she chose the latter.

But anyway, I sat next to him throughout the whole class, trying to mind my own business, trying not to look at him. I failed at this miserably. One-fourth of the period later, I glanced over at him quickly. I found large green eyes staring back.

\"Are you lost?\" he whispered, leaning over slightly.

Ignoring the eyes on us, I shook my head.

\"No. It\'s not a crime to sit here, is it? Is this like some holy seat or something? One of those \'I saw Jesus on a stain\' kinda things?\"

He blinked and then smiled softly.

\"My name\'s Phillip, but you might want to pretend that I\'m a disease, since that\'s how everyone else treats me.\"

I glanced around the room slowly, taking in the hostile gazes thrown our way.

\"Ah, to hell with the fuckers. I bet they don\'t even know what grade you\'re in. They don\'t know shit.\"

Phillip smiled wider at that, relaxing somewhat. He sat upright in his seat, occasionally glancing at me during the lesson. I sat there ignoring the teacher, instead doodling in my binder and trying to make cartoon versions of the people surrounding me. I looked up once at Phillip, only to find that his chemistry book wasn\'t out and he was tapping his pencil, looking in my direction. I gave him a weak grin. He blinked, then cautiously gave me a half-smile.

\"Lawrence, please repeat what I just said,\" the teacher\'s voice boomed. \'Fuck.\' I looked up at him, trying to appear innocent and all that crap. The look he gave me told me that he wasn\'t buying it. I cleared my throat.

\"Um...I didn\'t really h thh that last part, sir. It was a bit confusing to me.\"

He narrowed his eyes. \"What about it confused you?\"

\"...All of it, sir.\" I gave my best attempt at pretending that I had been listening, and he shook his head.

\"Pay attention, Lawrence, or you\'ll be failing my class. I don\'t tolerate slackers.\"

I nodded and lowered my head in embarrassment. Phillip looked at me sympathetically, indicating with his head that I should pay attention to the lesson. I nodded, looking back up and trying to focus on the exciting world of chemistry.

Lunch sucked. Luckily, Jamey had the same period lunch as I did. She walked up to me, shouldering her still light backpack and grinning.

\"How is school so far?\"

\"SucksI muI mumbled. \"That boy that you told me to stay away from is in my chemistry class, though. He actually seems pretty nice...\"

Jamey paused, bringing me to a halt.

\"Lawr...I\'m serious. He\'s a whore, and he\'s really fucked up. Honestly; don\'t get all buddy-buddy with him...you\'re just gonna set yourself up for trouble.\"

\"Damn it Jamey, don\'t you ever consider anything besides how others see a person? He doesn\'t seem like an asshole to me, and if he\'s a nice person, then I\'ll befriend him if I feel like it.\"

She rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration. \"Fine, ruin your life. Just don\'t expect me to help you pick up the pieces.\"

I smiled to myself as we walked into the cafeteria, gingerly finding a table that was mostly empty to sit at. Neither of us felt like eating that day - bad luck, you know, likely to get food poisoning. Jamey ran her small hands through her hair and leaned backward into the air. It almost seemed like she should fall, but she didn\'t. I glanced around, trying to ignore everyone else that crowded the too small cafeteria.

\"You know, sometimes you can act just like those people th-\"

I stopped mid-sentence, probably looking like a total moron. Phillip had timidly walked up to us, standing there silently as if waiting to be spoken to. So obedient, like a puppy going through training. Or maybe just hoping not to be beaten.

\"Ah, hm. Why don\'t I just occupy myself elsewhere, okay? You two might wanna, you know, talk or something - alone.\" Jamey faked a cough, looked at me, and made it her point to disappear. Phillip watched her leave, then looked at me uncertainly.

\"Um...would you rather me sit next to you or beside you...if I\'m welcome, of course...\"

I stared at him in surprise for a moment, then flushed and shrugged. He quietly sat across from me, able to observe everyone around us.

\"So, uh...\" My mind was totally blank, and frankly, it had good reason to be. Those eyes of his...so big and green and I sound like a perv, don\'t I? He wasn\'t smiling like he had in chemistry, and I decided that his smile was really beautiful. Funny how we notice the stupidest things when they aren\'t even around.

\"...Do you want me to leave? You don\'t have to pretend to be friendly, you know. No one else does. Not that I really give a damn anyway, but it\'s more polite to just be up front with someone.\"

\'Shit.\' I was already losing points and I didn\'t even know how many each question was worth. I scratched my head, not happy with the whole \'hostility\' thing.

\"Hey, you can leave if you want to, but I\'m not gonna tell you to. I\'m not pretending, either, otherwise I would have followed Jamey or given some bullshit excuse to leave, all right? Don\'t be so hostile, it doesn\'t suit you.\"

Phillip stared at me and sighed.

\"...Sorry...I guess I just expect the worst from everyone...\"

I smiled at him. \"Ah, don\'t worry \'bout it. There aren\'t many people you can trust anyway. They all betray you eventually.\"

The conversation was way too serious for my tastes, and I still hadn\'t seen Phillip smile again yet. But wait - my male idiocy gets worse!

\"Is it true...? What they say about you...er, what you do?\"

He blinked in surprise and anger. Light pink lips frowned deeply at me. Phillip stood up, glaring at me. He almost looked...hurt. His fingernails dug into the table.

\"Why such an interest in that, huh? Thinking of fucking me? Don\'t worry - I\'m not too expensive for a whore.\"

He stomped out of the room, everyone\'s eyes following him and then fixing on me. Ugh. The only thing I could think of doing was hunching down and turning red in my stupidity. Really smart, right? Yeah, I pissed Phillip off the first day we talked. One helluva way to start a friendship, I know. Things wouldn\'t stay that way for too long, though. Come to think of it, I don\'t know why I was so anxious to get to this part, anyway. Guess I haven\'t gotten any smarter over the years.

chapter 2

\"How did your day go, Lawrence?\"

I ignored my mom\'s prompt, hopping up the stairs to my bedroom. I escape my my closet, dragging along my c.d. player. Closing the door, I sat in the cramped space and put on the headphones. With the push of a button, Kyo\'s screaming vocals raged in my ear and gave me time to think.

\'Okay, so I\'m a complete asshole. Right. That was one stupid thing to say to him. Yeah, by the way, are you a whore like everybody says you are?? Really goddamn smart. Shit...I\'m never gonna make friends like this. No wonder Jamey keeps telling me to keep away from him...I only make his life worse. But fuck - how can I make up for this? There\'s got to be something I can do to apologize for it, right?\'

I sighed in the darkness, shuddering under my self-blame. I didn\'t judge him; I would never presume to judge somebody like that. Hell, I have my own dark secrets, don\'t I? But I\'m still a good person, right? I hope...

\"Lawrence? Come and tell me what\'s wrong. Do you have any homework? How are your classes? Lawrence??\"

What a blessing that I could barely hear her through Kyo\'s screaming (1). I\'d rather listen to him scream than her nagging me. Besides, I had used what little good sense I have and locked my door before hiding. Someone give me a pat on the back and take me for a walk. It\'s not like I was going to just go up to my mom and say \"Oh yeah, I\'m friends with a freak and a prostitute. What? No, Mom, a male prostitute.\" That would sound really good. I can just picture her passing out right now. But anyway, I\'m getting off subject again, aren\'t I?

The vicious cycle of school returned, of course, the next day. It was Tuesday, because someone had the ingenious idea to start each school year on Monday. Anyway, chemistry was my second class of the day, after calculus. See? I\'m smart; I just don\'t apply myself. I squeezed through the crowded doorway, slipping into my seat. Phillip was already sitting in the desk beside mine. I kind of suspected that he got to class earlier than everyone else for some reason. I glanced at him nervously, hoping he would notice it. His head was slightly bowed, the same miserable expression on his face that he\'d had before. My heart sunk; he didn\'t seem happy in the least anymore. Instead, it was as if I had made his life more miserable. \'Look at me,\' I willed to him. Cue the religious miracle hymns, because he chose that moment to look up.

Those green eyes looked over me like a diseased rat, and he probably thought of me as one. I tried to decide whetho fao fake a smile or stay serious. Somehow I didn\'t think he\'d appreciate the smile.

\"Listen, Phillip...\" I tried to finish before class started. \"I\'m really sorry about asking you that yesterday. I didn\'t mean it like it sounded; I just...I guess I just wanted to get to know more about you. I\'m sorry it insulted you, but I guess we all have our deep secrets we keep from others.\"

He stared at me critically for a long moment, and my heart was pounding. I didn\'t know why I cared so much what he thought of me, but it mattered. Period.

\"...It\'s true, all right? It\'s not like I like it to be this way, but I\'m on my own, and I have to survive. I have to save up for schooling, and...no one seems to want to hire me for any real jobs. I try to be really careful, though...\"

Phillip looked at me, then looked down. I let out a deep breath. Thank whatever-the-hell made us that he forgave me. He almost had a faint smile on his face, even. He glanced back up at me to see what I was thinking. I smiled genuinely and he gave a ghost of a smile in return.

Then the bell rang. The teacher walked in, and everyone pretended to be busy. The door closed with a loud boom, and the room went silent. Ugh. If there\'s one thing I can\'t stand, it\'s artificial silence. I like the kind of silence that\'s peaceful, between two people who don\'t need to use words to communicate. In my mind, I pictured Phillip and myself sitting under a nice apple tree on the top of a hill, surrounded by happy silence. I blushed; where the hell had that come from?! Uh oh...everyone was working on something and I was daydreaming. Even worse, Phillip was staring at me with the shadow of concern on his face. That made me blush ever further, and I gingerly looked up at the board. The teacher glanced at me, scowling as he continued the lesson.

A note was slid onto my desk.

What are you thinking about?

I blinked, thinking of a reply to lip\lip\'s question. Um...

Phillip smiled at me, turning back to the front happily. His lips were still curled slightly upward, and my heart raced slightly. I wondered if he had any idea of just how beautiful he looked at that moment. Me calling a guy beautiful? Yeah, and I\'d say it in front of anyone if they asked. His profile was exquisite - modest forehead, Gregorian nose, soft pouting lips, and a wonderfully sloping chin. I could almost relate to how Oscar Wilde felt for Bosey at that moment. And, like Oscar, I would pay dearly for such musings(2).

The teacher (I don\'t even remember his name) was droning on about a bunch of meaningless numbers while I sat and colld myd my thoughts. I suddenly wished that I had the note instead of Phillip. I wanted to stare at his handwriting, reread his words until they held no meaning. They say that a person\'s handwriting can tell how they\'re feeling and what their personality is. If that\'s so, I hoped Phillip didn\'t know how to decipher it. My handwriting would have translated to a goofy lopsided grin, complete with dreamy cartoon eyes and a thought bubble above my head.

I don\'ow how how many times I heard my name uttered by a teacher that day, but by lunchtime, I was considering getting it legally changed. \'Lawrenceho iho is that? No, my name\'s Abdul. Abdul Shamalama.\' Yeah... Since my only class with Phillip was Chemistry and I saw him at lunch, I\'ll focus on those two periods.

Jamey came up to me where I was waiting for her in front of the cafeteria.

\"I\'m a dyke,\" she said, adjusting her backpack and going inside. I blinked, following her Gourry-style (3).

\"According to the world,\" she added. Her lips were set tight, and I thought she would explode in fury...or amusement.

\"Er...okay. So everyone says you\'re a dyke. Are you?\"

\"Fuck no!\"

Her glare could have broken stone. Good thing I\'m granite.

\"Well then, don\'t worry about it. If someone said I was gay, I\'d just ignore them.\"

Jamey looked at me funny, and I raised my eyebrows. He\'s just a friend, I told myself. That\'s all; just a friend. I mean, he\'s cute and all, but... I tried to tell myself that I wasn\'t at all interested in him, but couldn\'t. I was still sort of neutral on the issue, I suppose.

The lunchroom was crowded yet again, and I had a feeling that it would be a lunchtime trend. We sat at the same table as the previous day, our book bags hitting the floor with a thud. I ran my hands through my nearly black hair. It was a little past my chin. To be honest, I wore it that way so I could hide myself behind it, like a steel shield. I lived my life trying to protect myself from other people. Ever since my dad...no one had been safe, not even myself.

Phillip was sitting under a tree outside the cafeteria doors, barely visible. I must have been staring at him like an idiot, because Jamey had to smack me in the head just to get my attention.

\"Do you like him?\"

I blinked. What kind of question was that, after all?! Shit...I had met the boy the day before! I sat there with my mouth hanging open until Jamey clarified.

\"Do you like guys? At all?\"

My heart began pounding in a sudden wave of anxiety. I hated questions like these; after what my dad had done to me, I tried not to think about sex, period. I never let myself question my sexuality, because it was all way too painful to approach. How could I answer that? I don\'t believe in lying to people just for your own convenience.

\"...I don\'t like him.\" There. Simple answer, and true. I can\'t like someone I\'ve only known one day, right? Right.

\"Okaaay...good enough for me. But you are staring at him, you know.\"

I nodded slowly, cautiously.

\"I\'m just concerned...he\'s got a pretty messed up life, ya know...\"

Jamey gave me a \'you should know better\' look.

\"Yeah, well so is yours. You\'re only going to make it worse if you keep daydreaming and staring at him, you know.\"

Of course, I went right back to doing just that after she finished talking. I must have just stared off into space for a whilecauscause by the time it occurred to me what I was doing, she had already left. Not to mention that Phillip was now walking toward me. He slipped through the cafeteria doors unobtrusively, sitting down next to me.

\"Hi...\" he nearly whispered.

I smiled at him, suddenly feeling light and somewhat warmer, like the temperature had risen several degrees. My heart was pounding and I felt nervous. Too nervous. Why was I feeling like this around a guy I\'d just met? Aguy.

\"Am I bothering you?\" Phillip asked.

I looked over at him, into his beautiful eyes; beautiful green eyes...

\"Not at all.\"

Why did my mother have to name me Lawrence? Why not Joe, or John, or Daniel? Why such a lame moniker? It made me feel weak, especially since I was feeling conflicted about Phillip, feeling things that I had repressed since what happened with my father. I couldn\'t even imagine anyone doing that to me with permission, the very thought hurt so much. I was terrified of any human contact, always fearing that someone would hurt me physically anotiootionally.

I think my mom realized that, and maybe it added to her determination to be \'involwithwith my life\'. I don\'t know; but the very contemplation that I might be attracted to Phillip appalled me. My father had ruined everything for me, what I perceived as any chance at having a \'normal\' life. I just wish I knew how to define the word \'normal\', even now...

Phillip came to class late the next day, his cheek bruised deeply. It was swollen and a sickly purple color, and obviously painful. He carried an icepack in his hand, half-melted already. The teacher glared at him despite his injuries, and gave him a detention for that day. Phillip\'s face fell once he was sitting down. I stared at him in worry, but didn\'t risk speaking to him until everyone else had lost interest.

\"Phillip,\" I leaned over slightly, \"what happened? Are you okay?\" I know, dumb question.

\"I...I got beat down by some guy...he didn\'t even pay me nuthin\'. And there\'s no way I can serve the detention for this asshole, because time is money for me, you know.\"

I sighed, nodding.Isn\Isn\'t there any other way you can earn mone liv live on?\"

\"I don\'t just need rent and shit - I have to save up for school, too. No regular job can pay that well, especially for someone like me. It\'s my only choice, because I\'m gonna go to that beautician school, no matter what it costs me.\"

I realized at that moment that I wanted to help Phillip, to help him get enough money so he wouldn\'t have to sell his body. He deserved much, much better thant. t. I also realized what a complete idiot I am. What could I possibly do to help him? Try to find him a decent job? Even then, he\'d still say that it wasn\'t enough money. Hm...maybe if I got a job...

\"Lawrence? Lawrence...!\"

I started, realizing that Phillip had been trying to speak to me while I daydreamed.

\"Man, you need help. You\'re like a damned catatonic mental patient, you know? I hope you took your pills this morning, because I forgot to take mine.\" He laughed.

\"Actually, I can\'t afford pills, even if I do need them,\" he added.

I couldn\'t think of anything to say, so I just remained silent.

chapter 3

I decided that I would get a job and help Phillip out. Of course, I didn\'t intend on telling him, because I know he\'d get mad at me. I typed up a handy little resume on a computer at school, and went out job hunting. I tried music stores and restaurants first, then fast food joints. I think I went to about seven different places and applied for jobs. Anyway, to get to the point, I finally landed a job at the Arizona Square restaurant. It\'s a nice little place with good food, and the atmosphere is clean (how rare). It paid $5.00 per hour, plus tips. Lucky for me, I was a waiter and not a lowly dishwasher. I worked from 5 p.m. to midnight. Let\'s see...that\'s...thirty-five bucks a day, plus tips. Two hundred and forty-five dollars a week. That\'s one thousand and fifty dollars per month, minus the one-third the government takes - $700. And all of it was to go to Phillip. Yeah, I was very tempted to keep some for myself - it was my hard work, after all. But I just had to remind myself that the money would make it so he wouldn\'t have to sell himself. Hopefully. I worked a full month before I gave him my first paycheck. Hell, I even gave him all my tip money, which added up to about $240. So I had $940 for Phillip a month after I had gotten my job. I found out that his rent was only $500 a month, and then he had to pay utilities. But that was enough to get him by for the technical stuff. He still would have to prostitute himself for the extra money to save for school, but he\'d only have to do it half as often. Better than nothing, I figured.

\"You took what?! Are you out of your fucking mind?!\"

I winced as students turned and stared at Phillip\'s outburst. I lowered myself into my seat at the lunch table and slipped the envelope to him.

\"Please just take it. It\'s the only reason I took the job.\"

He stood angrily, his fists pressed hard against the table.

\"I don\'t want your charity!! I\'m not a fucking beggar!\"

\"Phillip, it\'s not charity. I care a lot about you and I can\'t stand the fact that you\'re suffering so much just to follow your dream. I want to help you get there, okay? I did this out of my own free will, because I can. It\'s not charity, and it\'s not pity. Please.\"

I sighed as he sat down, still holding the envelope out to him. Reluctantly, he took it.

\"...Why, though? I mean, why do so much for me? I really owe you now...\"

I shook my head, ignoring the raven hair that fell into my eyes.

\"You don\'t owe me anything, ever. I told you, I did it to help you. Because you mean a lot to me.\"

Phillip stared at me for several minutes, a look of deep wonder and suspicion in his eyes. I can\'t describe how amazing he looked in that moment. It was probably the first time anyone had done something kind for him just because they wanted to. He blinked, turning and lowering his head slightly to hide his eyes. I knew that he was crying, though. I mean, it\'s not that hard to tell.

\"Phillip...\" I didn\'t know what to say to him. So I just sat there like a dumbass, fidgeting.

Finally, I heard his voice.

\"...Thank you. Thank you, Lawrence. I...I don\'t know what to say...\"

I smiled encouragingly.

\"Just say that you\'ll be ready next month when I give you more money. And don\'t feel bad about taking it, okay? Like I said, it\'s not charity. I don\'t pity you; I just can\'t bear to see you waste such potential.\"

He smiled, which made it all worthwhile. But low and behold, I remembered that the whole damn cafeteria was staring at us. I turned around and yelled at them.

\"What the fuck are you looking at?! Eat your fucking food!\"

\"I don\'t know why you\'re helping me,\" Phillip mumbled, chewing a mouthful of sausage pizza. We were sitting on the carpet in my room, doing schoolwork. It was only thirty minutes after school, but I had to work at five. The scent of the pizza only added to the thrill of having Phillip in my room. Wait...did I think that? Yeah, I did. I had just einedined a math problem to him.

\"Um, because you\'re my friend?\"

He rolled his eyes but smiled slightly. God, Phillip had the most beautiful smile. Still has, mind you. I almost, almost wanted to kiss him at that moment. Of course, this impulse scared the shit out of me. I think I even blushed, I was so nervous. I glanced up quickly at Phillip; he was staring at me! Not just that, but the look in his eyes... There was a softness to it that made my heart pound anxiously. I wanted...I wanted to kiss him. Just a simple, harmless kiss. How could a kiss hurt me, after all? No; a kiss couldn\'t hurt me - Phillip could.

\"Lawrence...?\" He scooted closer to me, and I had to fight the urge to back away. He gave me an inquisitive look, the concern apparent on his sullen features. I couldn\'t help it; I leaned forward, very softly running my fingers over his bruised cheek. He gasped and shoved me away, his eyes widening. Inwardly, I cursed myself, although the admonishment didn\'t reach my heart. Phillip put his hand to his cheek absently.

\"What - what the hell did you do that for?\" I think he was too shocked to think of anything else to say.

\"I...I\'m sorry,\" I whispered.

He looked at me for a moment and sighed.

\"It\'s okay. You didn\'t do anything wrong. You just surprised me.\"

Phillip smiled slightly, trying to make up for his outburst. Perhaps...perhaps I should kiss him. Just get it over with, you know? But...but no.

He scooted over, gently closing the math textbook in front of me. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine gingerly. I was shocked, totally shocked. He moved his lips slightly and I reciprocated. Phillip edged his tongue into my mouth, giving me a soft yet passionate kiss. I felt myself growing hard, the imagined excitement building. To the disappointment of my penis, Phillip ended the kiss.

\"I\'m sorry,\" he muttered, hastily wiping his mouth. \"That was real fucking stupid of me, huh.\"

I sat there looking at him in a daze for a while, trying to control my erection.

\"I, I uh...it\'s fine. God, it\'s fine...do it again,\" I said without thinking. My eyes widened and I blushed.

Phillip smiled softly, his own cheeks inflamed.

\"It\'s funny...I\'m a whore, but I just kissed someone who\'s not a customer. I...I really like you, Lawrence. A lot. Maybe it\'s wrong for a whore to like someone, but...\"

My heart was pounding like a jackhammer. Phillip liked me. Wow. WOW. So I guess it wasn\'t just me, huh. And I had liked the kiss - a lot. I wanted him to kiss me again, even. In the heat of the moment, I had forgotten everything I had taught myself, that my dad had taught me. Instead of being ashamed, I had felt excited, aroused. But the shame was beginning to sneak up on me, and I couldn\'t think of a damn thing to do to stop it.

\"...Lawrence...?\" Phillip\'s voice was soft and dejected, like something in him had been shattered. Shit; I hadn\'t said anything about his confession. How stupid was I getting?!

\"Phillip...you mean a lot to me. I...I\'ve gone through a lot in my life, though. I mean, just the thought of kissing someone makes me feel sick. But with you, I didn\'t even think about it. That scares the shit out of me, you know. But I...I like you; it kills something inside me to say it aloud, but it\'s true.\"

\"Why does it bother you so much?\" he asked.

I sighed deeply. \"I\'ll tell you some other time, okay?\"

I worked extra hard that night to make as much money as I could for Phillip. My mind kept floating back to the kiss he had surprised me with, and when I got home, I locked myself up in my room and jacked off until I nearly screamed. I know that sounds crude, but that\'s exactly what I did. And damn, it felt good, thinking of Phillip while I pleased myself. I felt sort of bad afterward, though. How could I not? It felt like I was objectifying him, using him just like everyone else did. When I realized that, I felt disgusted by myself, like a monster. I sat in my closet listening to my headphones and crying for several hours. Phillip called later that night, according to my mom, but I made her say that I was in the shower. Luckily for me, she complied.

I shI showed up at school the next day very tired. My sleep had been troubled with both guilt and nightmares. In chemistry, Phillip stared at me the whole time since I wouldn\'t speak. I know that he thought it was his fault, but I just couldn\'t talk to him at that moment. I felt bad for knowing I was hurting him even more. At lunch, I still wouldn\'t speak. Jamey eased down a few seats away from us so we could brood in solitude. Phillip\'s forehead was scrunched in a frown as he sat there, picking at his French fries.

He approached me after school, grabbing my arm as I began to walk home.

\"Dammit, Lawrence! What did I do?! I didn\'t mean iss iss you off by kissing you, ya know! Just forget it if it makes you so fucking mad!\"

\"No!\" I yelled. It isn\'t like that, okay? You wanna know the truth? I jacked off last night thinking about you. It\'s like I\'m using you just like everyone else is and I hate myself for it! That\'s the truth!\"

Phillip stood there stunned.

\"W...Lawrence...that\'s not true! I care about you and you care for me, right? You could never be like that, please believe me!\"

I stood there, my lip trembling. I was so tired and guilt-ridden that I was going to lose it. My whole body was shaking, my eyes blurry.

\"...Lawrence...? Hey, are you alright?\"

I felt a lone tear run down my face as I shook my head weakly.

\"No...I\'m just so tired of the effort. It takes so much to push away this guilt, and I can\'t ever stop. I just want to rest for once! I don\'t want to feel so sick!\"

My attempt at raising my voice was most pitiful of all, reducing me to soft sobs. Phillip walked over to me, gently putting his arms around me. I cried into his shoulder while the world went on around us. In that moment, I was able to forget about who might be staring, about what they might think. The pain was so overwhelming that it flowed free without reserve. Phillip held me as I cried, his warm body and soothing scent enveloping me. I closed my eyes against the tears, trying to burrow as much into him as possible. I was like a little puppy then. It was the first time that I let another person take away some of my pain.

The weekend came so quickly, and the rain just as suddenly. I sat on my porch watching it, feeling the moist air swirling around me. The patter of raindrops hitting solid material made the most beautiful sound, especially when droplets fell from the leaves of nearby trees. I almost wanted to laugh at how poetic I sounded. But there was an underlying sorrow in my demeanor, one that I couldn\'t shake.

I turned my head toward the road as I heard someone approaching. The bicycle tires zipped through the stagnant pools of water, parting them like a sea. I could easily recognize the person as Phillip, with his burgundy painted bicycle, the small basket at the front, sprayed black. My eyes warmed upon his arrival, ready to greet him. He parked his bike at the foot of the porch stairs. Smiling, Phillip quickly climbed the stairs, standing there.

\"Hi,\" I said in a friendly manor. He grinned and returned the greeting as I motioned him to have a seat. He was wearing green jeans with a striped tee shirt. His blonde hair was parted down the center, combed neatly and gelled.

\"So what brings you here?\" I inquired.

Phillip looked over at me, smoothing his jeans with his slender hands.

\"Nothing much. I would ask if you wanted to see a movie, but I have to save every dollar I get.\"

He smiled slightly. I paused a minute while I thought.

\"Which movie would you want to go to? I can pay for yours and mine.\"

He shook his head. \"Dreams, but don\'t do that, okay? We can just hang out if you want.\"

I stood up, stretching. \"Let me go check the movie times and I\'ll get my money. Are we gonna get popcorn?\"

Phillip shook his head, looking sheepish. \"No, and it starts at 1:30.\"

I looked at him for a moment, then nodded and hurried inside. A glance at the clock told me that it was already 12:15.

\"Hey Mom!\"

I went into the kitchen, where she was slicing tomatoes for something.

\"Can you do me a really big favor and drive me and a friend to the movies?\"

She looked up at me, setting down the knife.

\"When?\"

I bit my lip. \"Um...in about thirty minutes. It starts at 1:30.\"

My mom sighed, picking the knife up again and continuing to slice the tomato.

\"Be ready at 12:50, no later.\"

We sat in the very back of the theatre, in the seats nearest the walls. As the lights began to dim and the atmosphere darkened, Phillip looked over at me with excitement.

\"Thank you,\" he whispered happily. I smiled in response, settling down in my seat. As the previews began, I felt his hand brush lightly over my arm, causing me to shudder. I looked over at Phillip, with his small, nervous smile illuminated by fickle shadows.

\"This is really nice,\" he whispered.

\"Yeah...\" I suddenly felt the kind of tension we\'d had in my room the week before and my heart began to flutter in response. I found myself staring into his eyes, which were fixed on mine. His hand trembled from its place on my arm before being clasped gently by my own hand.

\"Lawrence...kiss me.\" There was a lilt to his voice which almost made it a question, as if he was unsure that he should ask. I leaned toward him and pressed my lips against his. He gripped my arm, involving himself in the kiss, opening his mouth slightly. I reciprocated, feeling his hot breath mingle with mine as my head spun. We stayed like that for at least a full minute before pulling apart slowly. I panted as he cupped my cheek, his face still close to mine.

\"Thank you,\" he sighed with muted affection. I gave him a warm smile, trying to pull him closer to me. Fucking theatre seats. The damned chair was too small, forcing him to sit halfway in my lap and pushing me tightly against the other edge of the seat. But if wasn\'t so bad like that, and we stayed that way for a whole half hour or so, until his thigh and my whole lower body fell asleep. The progress had been made, nonetheless. Holding him like that, being held, had been more of a comfort than anything in my entire life had been.

I once read somewhere that you have to find your partner\'s scent pleasing, or else a relationship won\'t work (4). Phillip\'s scent was something that I could never get enough of, never forget. I loved (and still love) his scent, wanting to wrap it around myself all too eagerly.

\"Do you like how I smell?\" I asked him after the movie, while we waited to be picked up. We were sitting in uncomfortable chairs in the lobby.

\"What?\" He looked at me like I was psychotic, eyeing my expression.

\"I read that you can\'t have a relationship with someone whose smell you don\'t like. I was just wondering, you know - for the hell of it.\"

I\'m not sure if I convinced him, but he laughed a little.

\"Yeah, I like how you smell.\" He leaned over and gave my shoulder a dramatic whiff.

\"You smell like cinnamon toast and fresh rain,\" he observed, smiling at me again.

God, to see him smile so much! And hdn\'dn\'t even gone out on the streets for two days! Of course, I still realized that he couldn\'t give \"it\" up yet, but eventually... I don\'t know what I expected. For him to just quit one day and maybe be happy with me? Wait...I didn\'t mean to sound like I was contemplating a relationship with Phillip. I guess now I can admit that, in my heart, I obviously was. But back then, I was still very much in denial.

\"You know,\" Phillip started, interrupting my thoughts, \"if you ever need to talk with me about anything, anything at all, just tell me, okay? I want you to be able to trust me with anything, because I would never, never betray you.\"

The quiet seriousness of his voice unnerved me, making me recall why I was so afraid. I smiled at him reassuringly.

\"Okay, Phillip. But I want you to do the same with me, alright?\" I felt bad, lying to him. I wasn\'t going to tell him what was hurting me so much.

\"Of course.\"

He was like an angel, if whores could be angels. The sweet glimmer in his eyes, the upturned wonder of his smile - I was in love. It hit me at that very moment, that what I was feeling was far more than friendship for him. Phillip had, in a way, become my guiding light, just like I was his. I wanted to protect him, to see him happy and never hurt. But what could I do? I was just like any hopeless fool in love. I closed my eyes partly, petrified that perhaps Phillip didn\'t feel the same. We had kissed, yes, even made out, but you know how paranoid people are. Nothing\'s ever good enough for us, ever sure enough. We love to make things difficult, and do one helluva job at it.

Sunday, my mother went to church and dragged me along. She also decided that it would be great if I invited Phillip to go with us. To my surprise, he accepted the invitation. The building was big and fancy, with cheap velvet lining everything. The pews were hard and uncomfortable (not to mention rather crowded). Rows of grey-colored hair lined the seats, fanning themselves against the heat. I sat next to Phillip, who was sitting next to my mo. T. The pastor was the perfect archetype, bald head, glasses and all. I was cringing inwardly at the upcoming hour, knowing that I wouldn\'t be able to fall asleep. Phillip looked over at me and gave a sweet smile, resting his hand atop mine. I returned the gesture and prepared myself for the sermon. The pastor stepped up to the podium, clearing his throat. All the habitual banter died away. I would reproduce his words here, but frankly, they\'re just too damdicudiculous to repeat. I can say that a part of his sermon had to do with the sin of premarital sex. Of course, this led to general discussion about what kind of people to stay away from typically - especially homosexuals and non-Christians. I had to grit my teeth as I listened to that shit, frowning when Phillip squeezed my hand tightly.

\"It\'s alright,\" he whispered to me. He was trying to pacify me, and what could I do et cot comply?

\"It just pisses me off,\" I murmured to him. He smiled in sympathy.

\"I know.\"

After the hour of torture was done, I made it explicitly clear that I would never be going to that kind of church again. Phillip silently agreed with me, although my mother didn\'t seem to understand what the problem was - surprise, surprise.

We went back to my house afterward and watched TV for a few minutes until Phillip had to ruin my selfish peaceful bliss.

\"...I need to work tonight, Lawrence,\" he said, looking guilty. I sighed and turned off the TV

\"Why? I mean, come on - you have to admit that it\'s more fun when you can just relax.\"

\"It is, but I need money to save up for school. I have to pay my rent and bills, you know. I can\'t live on the streets.\"

I don\'t know where my mind was, or why I spoke my thoughts aloud.

\"Then just liere ere with me! We have an extra room.\"

He stared at me for a moment, stunned.

\"Stop joking,\" he snapped at me angrily. \"That\'s just not funny. Not at all.\"

I paused, lowering my head as I thought. Could he maybe? If I explained to my mom...but would that make her sympathize with him or repel him? I guess it couldn\'t hurt to ask. She had remarked the night before that he was a very nice, polite person.

\"I\'m not joking,\" I said firmly. Once I get my mind on something, it stays there. I don\'t give up until all options are exhausted.

\"Just stop it,\" he pleaded. The subject was obviously upsetting to him, so I dropped it temporarily. We sat in uncomfortable silence for a while longer, until he insisted that he had to go and \'work\'. My thoughts were troubled the rest of the night, knowing that Phillip was out there selling his body for money.

My mother didn\'t take well to the idea of Phillip living with us, even after I explained his situation to her. What\'s worse, the look on her face made me think that I had just unwittingly lowered her opinion of him. Damn. The school week started, with Phillip and me passing littlees ies in chemistry. I told him (with my stupid adolescent naiveté) that I wasn\'t going to give up on him moving in. The idea was far too unrealistic, but I even said that I\'d get my own place if I had to let let him stay there. He gave me a sad look, smiling a little and shaking his head. At one point, after a lull in note passing, I sent him this message:

I need to talk to you about something.

What\'s wrong?

Just meet me after school, okay? It\'s really important...

Okay.

And that was that. Phillip indeed met me after school, and I led him to the park. We sat in the cramped kiddy jungle gym, him staring at me expectantly. I don\'t know why the hell I chose to tell him about my dad then, but I just had a pressing urge to do so.

\"Phillip...I\'m going to tell you a story.\" Don\'t laugh - I couldn\'t outright say thI>thI>this happened to me.

\"Once there was a boy whose father was very abusive to him and his mother. The mother got sick of it and divorced him, getting custody of the kid. But the father wouldn\'t just let them go, and one day when the mother was out moving boxes, the boy\'s dad locked him in the house and changed the locks. The mother tried to get in, but the father kept threatening to hurt the boy. So the mother had to wait two months thanks to the legal bullshit and threats to get her boy back. But during those two months, the father hurt him worse than anyone realized. He...he raped the boy, again and again, so brutally. There were so many times when the boy felt like he was almost dead from the brutality he suffered. And the boy never admitted to his mother what happened, even though the hospital told her that it might have happened. And now, that boy is terrified of ever letting anyone get near him emotionally or otherwise.\"

I looked over to Phillip. His brows were furrowed and his eyes shining with the force of the story. I looked down at my lap and continued.

\"So now, the boy has a friend, who he really likes. More than li- hi- his friend means so much to him - too much, and that scares the shit out of him. He...he doesn\'t want his friend to feel the kind of pain he feels, even though they\'re in different situations.\"

\"Phillip, I just need you to know what\'s going on with me. This is so hard, because it\'s all too obvious that this has gone beyond friendship, and that\'s never happened to me before. I don\'t know what to do, and I feel so damn lost. I don\'t wanna see you whoring yourself out; I can\'t stand to see you do that! It hurts me in a way that my past never could! I want you to be happy...I\'d do anything to help you...\"

Phillip looked at his lap for several minutes, his head bowed to hide the tears that had formed in his eyes. God, I was hoping that I hadn\'t fucked up my message. I just wanted him to know how I felt about everything.

\"Lawrence, I...*sigh* I\'m so sorry, Lawrence. This...shit. I really want to be, um...near you. I mean, I really l...care about you. What do you want me to do, though? I have to have money, and it would be way too dangerous to live on the streets. I don\'t know what else I can do.\"

\"Move in with me,\" I said quietly. \"I\'ll talk to my mom again...and...I\'ll tell her how I feel about you, Phillip. Maybe then she\'ll understand why it\'s so important to me that you\'re safe. She likes you, and we have the room. It\'s just a matter of convincing her, that\'s all...\"

He smiled at me so amiably, leaning over to kiss my cheek gently. Unlike all the creeps I\'d met in my life, Phillip didn\'t make me uncomfortable. The only thing that made me uneasy was the desire I felt for him.

\"Well,\" he spoke, \"I\'ll be going home now, but let me know what she says, alright? And don\'t worry about it too much if she says no.\"

I had a long talk with my mother that night, confessing that I really cared for Phillip as more than a friend and how much it was hurting me that he had to live like he did. After the third hour of talking, she agreed to try it out for a while, as long as I kept the house clean and my grades up. Now Phillip wouldn\'t have to worry about paying rent or bills. I promised her that I would pay for any excexpenxpenses that he incurred. I was so happy for him that I cried myself into exhaustion that night.

chapter 4

\"Are you serious?!\" He exclaimed, nearly yelling in the frontthe the entire cafeteria.

\"Yeah. Do you have a lot of stuff to pack? I can help you get it together and you can move in right away. Your room is upstairs, right next to mine. It already has a bed and shit, since it\'s a guestroom, so just decorate it however you want. I had to talk to her for three fuckin\' hours last night, but everything\'s cool.\"

I smiled at Phillip. \"You don\'t have to sell yourself now. What I\'m thinking is that you could get a job like I did, and that would double the money you save for school. What do you think? I\'ll help you find a good job, okay?\"

\"Slow down, Lawrence,\" he chided. I paused and took several deep breaths while he responded. \"I have a few important things that I want to pack up, but not much. Are you sure this is all right with your mom? I mean, I don\'t want her to be pissed at me.\"

\"It\'s fine,\" I answered confidently. I felt great, full of energy. And Phillip was responding more amicably than I had expected.

\"You\'re such an idiot, Lawrence! How can you just invite some strange whore to live with you?! Are you out of your mind?!\"

Jamey\'s speech droned on, criticizing and belittling Phillip. It was starting to piss me off, hearing her say all these things about a person who she didn\'t even know. Jamey didn\'t understand that I felt comfortable with Phillip, safe even. She also didn\'t understand how I felt about him.

\"Please, Jamey, just stop,\" I whispered. She was glaring at me like a rabid monkey. Shit.

\"Dammit Lawrence, you know I\'m right! I can\'t believe you\'re actually going to do this! And that your mom\'s letting you!\"

School was almost out for the day, and I would be meeting Phillip soon. I had to shut her up before then, because if he heard all the shit she was saying, he\'d back out. Stupid bitch.

\"Well you know what? Deal with it, okay? It\'s happening, and it\'s my business - not yours!\"

And that was the last time Jamey and I would talk for a while.

Phillip\'s little shack of an apartment was dimmed, one working light bulb illuminating the tiny room. There wasn\'t even a bedroom, just a dingy little bathroom with no tub. The kitchen consisted of a sink, small gas stove, and a midget fridge. A makeshift bed (a mattress with a pillow) was stuffed in a corner. I couldn\'t believe how squalid his \'house\' was. Phillip glanced over at me, not looking me in the eye.

\"There\'s, uh...not much to pack. Just a few outfits and trinkets. It shouldn\'t take more than ten minutes at the most.\"

I nodded, taking a seat on an old newspaper lying on the floor. He scurried around, throwing things into a plastic grocery bag. By the time he finished, it was comfortably full. He tied the ends together and sat beside /P> /P>

\"Are you sure this is really okay?\" he asked nervously.

I smiled at him. \"Of course. My mom doesn\'t mind, really. She understands how important this is to me and that your future depends on it. In a couple of weeks, we can go out looking for a job for you, huh? Il bel be great. And after this, just one more year of high school to go.\"

Phillip sighed, nodding softly. I could see the weariness in his frame, how he held himself slumped over.

\"Hey,\" I accosted him, \"why don\'t we head on home and unpack your stuff? You can rest then.\" In my mind, I was thinking \'maybe you can rest in my bed...with me.\'

\"I guess,\" he yawned. I stood up, stretching and heading for the door. He paused for a moment, looking around the room as if it weren\'t part of reality.

\"I can\'t believe this is happening,\" Phillip whispered to himself hoarsely.

I bit back a comment, instead gently pulling him through the doorframe.

His new room was nice; cozy. The bed was soft and the carpet clean. Hell, the room even smelled inviting, like some sort of vanilla cream. Mom probably sprayed some shit around the room. It was the kind of room you get when you visit your grandparents or a distant aunt. Phillip hesitantly unpacked his stuff, folding his clothes and putting them in the dresser. I watched him, reluctant to leave his side quite yet. Despite the shiver of fear I felt lodged in my spine, I wanted to be near him. He would never hurt me, I told myself. I had the urge to wrap my arms around him from behind, or maybe have him hold me like that. A thought struck me - he was the first person who had ever really held me. I don\'t know how I could have gone so long without that feeling, that wonderful warmth. I felt bitter at the realization. Phillip turned to me, finished with his task. I smiled weakly and stood there.

\"Lawrence...? What\'s wrong?\"

I blinked, flushing slightly. \"Um, nothing. I\'m just...worn out or something. It\'s nothing.\"

Phillip smiled at me reticently.

\"Why don\'t you lay down with me, then? We both need some sleep.\"

My heart beat quickened, and I found myself involuntarily moving toward the bed, even sitting on it. Phillip took off his shoes (mine were long gone) and sat beside me. He gingerly lay down, looking at me with warmth. Despite the fear coursing through my body, I followed his actions. After several minutes, I scooted over toward him, my side barely brushing his. He shifted slightly, pressing himself closer to me, enveloping me in his warmth. It wasn\'t sexual, in case you\'re thinking that. There was barely any element of that involved, just serenity. I felt warm and safe, protected, in his arms. It sounds corny, but that feeling really does exist. As rare and wonderful as it is, Phillip gave me that feeling.

I am very embarrassed to say it, but during that nap, I had a wet dream. It\'s not funny - it really isn\'t. But Phillip thought it was.

\"J...just get some water and wash it out,\" he snickered, trying to hold back his laughter. My whole face was red; he really wasn\'t helping. Do you have any idea just how embarrassing it is to wake up next to the person you lust after and realize you\'d come all over yourself while you were asleep?! Believe me, nothing is worse.

\"It\'s alright, really. Just got put your pants in the sink. No problem, right?\" He laughed at me until he turned red, nearly falling off his seat on the bed.

\"Shut up,\" I mumbled grumpily. I left the room, edging to the bathroom. I did like he said and put my pants in the sink, letting them soak in some warm water. I\'d have to get them out of there and into the washer before Mom found them, though. I was about to open the door when I stopped. I had forgotten to bring clean pants in there with me. Oh fuck.

After about fifteen minutes of listening to Phillip laugh at me through toor oor and trying to walk in the bathroom, I finally convinced him to leave a pair of jeans and some underwear outside the door. I opened it a peak, looking around suspiciously. Phillip\'s face popped into view, grinning at me. I yelped, trying to grab the pants and close the door at the same time. He, of course, was trying to get inside the bathroom to humiliate me. He gripped the pants, trying to stop me from pulling them inside. I finally tugged them free, but fell onto my ass in the process. To my utter shock, instead of walking in victoriously, he closed the door gently, allowing me my privacy. When I finally got around to putting the pants on, I was red as a tomato, and Phillip kept giving me this look. It was that look that someone gives you after you do something infamous. They just never forget stuff like that.

Mom ordered us Chinese for dinner. I got my favorite - shrimp with garlic sauce (including plain fried rice) and Phillip got sweet and sour pork. We ate on his new bed, comfortable silence pressing against us.

\"I love this,\" he murmured, taking a bite of a fried pork piece dipped in sauce. I smiled and nodded, devouring my rice and vegetables. The humiliation from that morning\'s incident stuck in my head, making me shy around Phillip. In fact, when I looked in the mirror above his dresser, I was blushing faintly. \'He almost saw me naked,\' I thought with an excitement flowing through me. My groin, driven by hormones, burned at the thought. A part of me was thrilled with the idea, while the rest of me wanted to scream and curl up into a ball. But we hadn\'t done more than kiss at that point. \'I love Phillip,\' I reminded myself numbly. \'How did this happen? How did he get so close to me?\'

I felt a chopstick nudge me. My cheeks burned as I realized that I had been staring off into space.

\"You should keep a diary,\" I mentioned. Phillip looked at me inquisitively. \"I mean, it would be good for you, ya know? To write down your feelings?\"

\"Maybe...\" he mused as he finished his food.

I watched him for a moment, my heart palpitating tremulously. I set my plate aside, sighing. That awkward silence was back, filling the room like thick smoke. I was choking on it, letting it flow through me and fill my lungs.

\"Do you keep a diary?\" Phillip asked.

I shook my head. \"No; Mom would find it and read it if I did. But she wouldn\'t read yours.\"

He smiled, not saying anything more on the subject. We slept in our individual rooms that night, even though I think we both wanted to hold each other. It\'s a thin line between comfort and sensuality, though.

The next day, Wednesday, was school again. In chemistry, I noticed that Phillip seemed much more enthusiastic than usual. The teacher kept glaring at him, but the bastard couldn\'t do anything to get him in trouble. Jamey glared at me as I passed her in the hallway, butust ust kept walking. I knew that if I opened my mouth, a fight would start. It would be very bad to get sent home for fighting the day after Phillip moved in. Parents tend to connect events like that, even if they have nothing to do with one another. Anyway, lunch was the best part of the day. We sat next to each other, talking with our heads close. We were giddy with our adolescent immaturity, and people stared disapprovingly. Whether it was hormones (those pesky things), brain loss, or some unseen force compelling me, I leaned in and kissed Phillip. On the lips. In front of the entire cafeteria. He pulled back slightly, eyes wide with incredulity. I looked around the cafeteria, feeling a bit abashed. He clutched my arm, his eyes searching mine. They were shocked and slightly fear-filled.

\"It\'s okay,\" I whispered to him. \"To hell with them.\"

Phillip smiled weakly in response, but his words were sad.

\"You\'re wrong...it\'s never okay with these people...\"

So I\'m gay. What exactly does that mean, anyway? And does falling in love with one guy really make me gay? I\'d never really had a \'relationship\' thing going on before, except for that time in sixth grade. Lindsay Moore. But nothing ever came of that, nor did I ever want it to. I\'m a guy, Phillip\'s a guy, and I love him. And he loves me (hopefully). So where did that leave us...? Since I had had a crush on Lindsay, could I still be considered gay? By the next day, everyone around school was whispering about me. I could deal with that more or less, except that they were referring to Phillip as a whore again. Yes, I know I\'ve identified him as that, but never in a malicious way. I would never say something cruel about him. We kept our heads low the entire day, sitting opposite one another at lunch. Occasionally, we would exchange glances, but we barely spoke. At the end of the day, we both waited until most everyone had left to start walking home together. The silence was uncomfortable, and I felt guilty.

\"Phillip,\" I started, \"I\'m really sorry about yesterday...I shouldn\'t have done what I did. I\'m sorry.\"

He looked over at me with his solemn, quiet eyes.

\"It\'s okay,\" he said. \"It\'s just going to be really hard for us, especially since neither of us can deny it. I\'m just really worried about you and how it\'ll affect your life.\"

I smiled softly, walking next to him. I slowed for a moment, thinking.

\"Hey Phillip...am I gay?\"

He stopped, turning to me.

\"I hope so,\" he remarked in a way that made me shiver. I started to reach for him involuntarily, but stopped myself. The walk that day seemed surprisingly short.

When we got home, we went to hang out in my room for a while. There were no posters of half-naked models on my walls or any porn stuffed under the mattress.

\"Will you do me a favor?\" I asked him quietly.

He glanced over to me curiously. \"What?\"

\"Um...could you maybe...cut my hair?\" I looked up at him shyly, embarrassed for some reason about my request.

He blinked for a moment. \"Um, sure!\" He gave me an enthusiastic grin and sat up.

\"What kind of haircut do you want?\"

I thought about it for a minute.

\"...Just under my ears. Not too much, but it\'d be a nice change, don\'t you think?\"

\"Of course!\" he exclaimed, hopping up and hurrying to the kitchen to find a pair of good scissors. I sat on my bed waiting for him to return. Sure, I trusted Phillip, but I was still nervous as hell. This was my hair we were talking about, after all!

He returned with a towel, scissors, and a wastebasket.

\"Okay, we need to go wet your hair. We should shampoo it so it\'ll stay wet longer. Then I\'ll sit you down, put the towel around your shoulders, and cut your hair. It\'ll turn out fine, I promise!\"

He shooed me to the bathroom, locking the door behind us. Setting the towel and scissors on the toilet lid, he indicated for me to sit on the edge of the tub and lean back. He leaned down beside me and turned on the faucet. Letting the water reach a good temperature, Phillip squeezed a dab of shampoo onto his hand and used the other to guide my hair under the water. It felt warm, rushing against my scalp and gliding down my neck. He put the shampoo in my hair, rubbing it in gently and carefully. The feel of his hands sliding through my hair, massaging my scalp, relaxed me so that I had to remember to support my weight. He let the stream of water rinse my soapy hair, making sure that there was no shampoo left in it before he turned off the faucet. Leaning over, he grabbed the towel and wrapped it around my head, guiding me into a sitting position. He scrubbed my hair with the towel, drying it so it wouldn\'t drip. I moved over to sit on the toilet lid, towel now wrapped around my neck, moistening my shirt. He positioned the wastebasket, brushing my hair out with a comb and parting it down the center. Methodically, he began to cut sections of my hair, occasionally combing it through. Chunks of wet black hair fell onto my lap and into the wastebasket as he worked. It took about twenty minutes before I was allowed to see my hair. I stood, brushing off my lap and peered into the mirror. And - surprise, surprise - it looked great! It went a little below my ears so that when it dried, the volume of my hair would make it rest at the tips of my ears, as Phillip explained. It looked really good, really professional, and I adamantly told him so.

\"You think?\" he grinned, pleased with his work. He leaned over and kissed my cheek softly, gathering up the mess he had made and putting things where they belonged. I stood there rather dumbfounded as he worked around me, scooting past me and out the door. I took another long look in the mirror, feeling warm and flushed from both haircut and kiss. After a few minutes, Phillip poked his head through the doorframe.

\"Are you coming out, Cinderella? You have to work tonight, you know.\"

I nodded and went to go change. Since he moved in, I had allowed myself more free time than usual, including less working hours. I pushed my door closed, although it didn\'t shut. Pulling off my shirt and pants, I changed into nifoniform pants, buttoning them up. Tugging on my shirt, I hurried down the stairs, since I only had thirty minutes until I had to leave. Phillip smiled at me, saying something about fish for dinner. My mom was busy finishing something in the den so that she could drive me to work. I really needed a car.

I got home later than expected, and a co-worker was kind enough to give me a ride home. It was nearly 11:30 at night when I walked through the door. As worn out as I felt, I dragged myself into my room, only to find Phillip lounging on my bed, waiting for me.

\"Hey,\" he muttered in greeting.

\"Hey,\" I responded, sitting down beside him. He sat up slightly, folding his arms and resting them on my thigh.

\"Lawrence, I wanted to know...do you know what je t\'aime means?\"

I looked at him, not letting my expression give me away. I had taken two years of French in middle school, and that was a phrase I had learned early on. It meant \'I love you\'.

\"...Yeah. It\'s how I feel about you,\" I said softly.

Phillip looked at me with a half-awed expression on his face.

\"Do you?\" he whispered. He smiled to himself. \"I love you, too. More than anything, Lawrence.\"

I couldn\'t help but smile when he said that. It was awkward and mushy, but having him say that to me while his head rested on my thigh made it meaningful.

\"That\'s nice, I murmured, closing my eyes momentarily.

Phillip adjd hid his position.

\"Marry me,\" he said. My eyes opened wide and I looked down at him.

\"I\'d love to,\" I responded, tired beyond belief.

\"Great,\" he mused, \"too bad that\'ll never happen.\"

I smiled slightly, looking down when Phillip began to climb my shirt. He looked at me, cuddling his head into my shoulder.

\"God, I want you so much,\" he whispered. My heartrate quickened, and I was suddenly aware of the proximity of Phillip\'s body to mine. He kissed my neck, my breath catching in my throat.

\"Phillip,\" I breathed. I had a strong feeling that I was going to lose my virginity that night, and I didn\'t know how I felt about that. But...I trusted Phillip, right? I made a decision and pushed him away from me slightly, grasping his arms with my hands. Taking a deep, decisive breath, I kissed him. The kiss was deep, quick, and startled him. He stared at me for a moment, then brought his lips to mine gently. His warm, thin arms wrapped around me carefully, pulling my body closer to his. I probably shouldn\'t be describing this in such detail, but it\'s an important moment in my life.

Phillip and I explored each other\'s bodies, feeling with both our hands and our hearts. Slowly, our clothes were removed, replaced by the feeling of flesh moving against flesh. His body was warm, sensual and comforting. I shuddered as his tongue touched my nipple. Unlike what I expected, the sensations felt good, right. It wasn\'t at all like how my father made me feel. I could feel Phillip moving lower on my body and I watched him slide down the bed. Just the sight of his nudity sent a thrill through me, and it was obvious why he was successful as a prostitute. I didn\'t even think about diseases, because I trusted Phillip to be cautious.

I was torn from my thoughts when the liquid heat of Phillip\'s mouth touched my most intimate organ. I moaned rather loudly, surprised by the sudden sensation. I had trouble breathing through the intensity of it. He knew how to use his tongue, and with the suction of his mouth suddenly engulfing me, I thought I would die. It was so warm, with Phillip suckling me. Just as suddenly, the heat was gone, replaced by the sensation of a moist palm. I grasped onto Phillip\'s arm, tightening my grip as the pleasure mounted. I wanted so much more, though. There was no shame left, no fear - just need.

Hoping to return even a fraction of the feeling Phillip was giving me, I pushed him back some, shakily taking his erection into my hand. He looked so beautiful to me, and he felt just as good. I caressed him, watching his face to see if I was making progress. His eyes were heavily lidded and he motioned for me to stop. I did so, feeling suddenly unsure of myself.

\"Let me...\" he breathed, \"let me fuck you.\"

Normally, I would say that those words are crude and a major turn-off, bringing anxiety and fear to me. In that moment, though, they aroused me to an extent that I didn\'t know was possible. I nodded hurriedly, allowing Phillip to get up and off the bed. He stumbled over to the dresser, pulling something out of the drawer. Coming back to me, he crawled atop me, kissing my body until his face met mine. We looked at each other, as if in a trance, until I felt a slick pressure at my opening. I froze suddenly, tensing up. But Phillip massaged me with his oiled finger until I gave way slightly. Carefully, he pushed his finger in, whispering to me.

\"Lawrence...this will hurt a little...it will be okay, I promise...\"

I had no choice but to trust him. He was the (very) experienced one, after all. He kissed and soothed me as he worked his fingers inside my body, stretching me. The pain was sharp and burning, making me wonder if I was doing the right thing. His fingers left me, and he leaned down to kiss my erection.

\"Are you ready?\" he whispered, having already prepared himself. Again, I could only nod. Positioning himself atop me, Phillip entered me with a horrible pressure. Tears burned at my eyes, and I let out a shuddering breath once he was in. We lay like that for a moment, until the pain eased up. Then, without warning, he began to move. At first it hurt, but then something happened and I understood why he said that it would \"be okay\". He thrust into me with increasing force, and I found my body pushing against him, needing more and more. I was like a zombie then, not thinking - just reacting. I think I had trouble keeping quiet (I\'m sure I woke my mom up), but it didn\'t matter; nothing mattered. I came with an explosive burst of pleasure, grabbing Phillip so tightly that I bruised his arms. It was a moment more before he came, grunting with the apparent effort. I wish I could tell you what happened after that, but when I woke up, both Phillip and I were stilterttertwined and naked.

I was sore and tired the next day, so much so that I had to call in sick for work. Phillip apologized, but I just shrugged it off. It had been worth it, after all. My God, even know it\'s hard to describe how I felt after that. It\'s one of those feelings that just defies words. I guess it\'s like one of those scary rides at the fair that gives you a thrilling sensation in the pit of your stomach, induced by excitement and fear. My mom gave both of us odd looks throughout the day but never said anything. I\'m sure she had expected something like that to happen eventually.

At one point, Phillip took me aside in the hallway.

\"Lawrence...I love you. I love you so much, and...I\'ve never felt so much for anyone. So I don\'t think that I could bear to...sell...myself anymore. It...it would be like betraying you.\"

I looked at him in partial amazement. I don\'t know what I was expecting, but the thought that he might quit prostituting himself never occurred to me. I mean, he needed that money, right?

\"Phillip...\"

He shook his head slightly. \"You can help me findob, ob, like you said. It\'ll be fine, don\'t worry about it. I just don\'t want to upset you...or myself.\"

\"Sure,\" I said meekly. Within the next hour, I was in Mom\'s car with Phillip, cruising the streets and looking for help wanted signs. We found several, and picked up some applications for Phillip. I even sent him into where I work, saying that he was a friend of mine. Maybe I could get him a job with me...

That night, I slept in Phillip\'s room. That actually seemed to be becoming a trend, since his bed (the guest bed) was much more comfy than my own worn-out mattress. I was awoken at three in the morning by someone shaking the bed excitedly.

\"Lawrence!! Lawrence, get up!! Listen!\"

I groggily opened my eyes, trying to focus on Phillip using the dim lamp he had turned on.

\"What?\" I mumbled rather rudely. He ignored me, nearly hopping onto me in apparent happiness.

\"I have enough! I have enough for one year at the school! Oh my God - I hope I can get accepted. I don\'t see why not...!\"

I blinked, sitting up wearily.

\"Huh?\"

\"The school\'s in San Diego, and it costs more for out of state applicants. But I just counted my money, and I have enough for the first year!\"

I looked at him.

\"San Diego? Oh...\"

Phillip smiled at me weakly. \"It\'s not all that far from here. cou could visit one another often. This dream of mine means everything to me, but so do you...\"

Well, fuck. I had just gotten settled into a happy little life, when he decides that he has enough cash to move on. It would seem almost suspicious if I didn\'t know Phillip any better.

\"When does the school start?\"

\"The second semester starts in a month. But I need to apply and that takes a while, even for a beautician school. I probably won\'t get to go until the fall semester.\"

He snuggled closer to me, trying to put my mind at ease. \'He\'s not leaving yet,\' I told myself, repeating it in my mind like a mantra.

Phillip got the application and sent it in the next week. I was happy that he was getting so far, but my heart wanted to selfishly hoard him to myself. Despite my moodiness, we made love several times a week. He didn\'t sell his body anymore, and seemed all the happier for it. It was as if his soul had been freed from some great burden. At school, we defied everyone by being as open about our relationship as (safely) possible. Several times, both Phillip and I went home with bloodied lips and extra bruises. Jamey still wasn\'t talking to me, but I noticed her watching me when I did see her. I considered that progress.

Unfortunately, the taunts about Phillip\'s being a whore hurt him all the more now. He grew increasingly depressed within a week, clinging to me more when we were alone, letting himself rest against my chest in his misery. I became his anchor, keeping him afloat throughout the storm. Whenever possible, I guarded him from onslaughts, both verbal and physical. There\'s really not much to say about that time except for the issues at school. Mom wanted to put us both in therapy, but I had to point out that we didn\'t have that kind of money. I continued with my job, still giving all my profits to Phillip. Since I had begun that school year, I had grown more mature, and more jaded. The cold world now seemed icy, and I often felt like I had no coat to shield me from the elements.

chapter 5

Stupid fag. That\'s all I heard at school, whether in the hallway or the classroom. Phillip heard it, too, but he had more experience steeling himself for it. I remember that one day was particularly vicious. By the end of second period, I was in one of the bathrooms, crying against the counter. I was so sick of hearing people criticize me and Phillip over things that they couldn\'t possibly understand, didn\'t want to understand! My fists were clenched tightly, turning both red and white in places from the pressure. A headache was burrowing into my skull behind my eyes and I was having increasing trouble breathing through my violent sobs. I don\'t recall why that day\'s events were so bad, but the effect they had on me scared the shit out of me. At lunch, Phillip took one look at my puffy red eyes and hugged me tightly, right in front of everyone. Instead of making things worse, his comfort made me feel much better. At least I had one ally in the world.

\"What happened,\" he whispered as we sat down.

I shook my head weakly. \"I don\'t know...it was just really bad today...\"

He hugged me again. \"It\'s okay, Lawrence. That\'s what you always told me, and I believed you after a while. Now you believe me, okay?\"

I nodded in acquiescence.

Mom was home when we arrived. She had been taking things rather well, not making a fuss or even a negative comment about her only son, only child, having a boyfriend. She became a mother to Phillip, as well. It turned out that he didn\'t have any parents, despite what everyone thought. I don\'t know why they thought that, anyway. So we had become his family, which made us totally responsible for his well-being. There was one other bad thing about that day - Mom told me she had scheduled a psychiatry appointment for me, in two days. Great. I can\'t stand therapists, how they always pry into your most personal life while remaining complete strangers. I didn\'t feel like answering questions about Phillip, and I sure as hell wasn\'t going to open up about my father!

Two days went by, and this is how the appointment went (Reader\'s Digest condensed version):

Therapist (Mrs. L) - I hear you have a boyfriend, Lawrence. How long ago did this happen?

Me - Why do you care, Mrs. L?

Mrs. L - So tell me about your father, Lawrence.

Me - Why do you care, Mrs. L?

That\'s about all that was accomplished. Ninety dollars for that. It doesn\'t even make a paragraph. I was so sick of everyone prying into my private life. The only person I was willing to confide anything in was Phillip, and he had issues of his own. School was tiring me, people were sickening me, and I just wanted to sleep. I had an odd dream when I did sleep, though.

It was Jamey\'s voice defending me in my dream. I\'m a very logic-oriented person, but I do believe that dreams have a certain power. What that power is, I don\'t know. I woke up feeling slightly groggy, Phillip\'s arm slung over my waist.

Sometimes, the feeling came to me that Phillip and I were the only non-heterosexual people in Nevada; sometimes just in our town. But the feeling of isoon won was there, and it only grew stronger. There were no support groups for us then, no organizations to help us cope. It was just us, which was better than it being just me. When we walked down the street, went to the store, walked home from school, we were different. I suppose that one reason I didn\'t want Phillip to go to San Diego was that I was envious of him. It would be so much better in a huge city like that. While he was away following his dream in California, I would be stuck in the same little town we had moved to not all that long before. I think that Phillip sensed my growing pessimism, and tried to cheer me up. My mom tried to get me to go back to the therapist, but I flatly refused.

Eventually, I decided to make the most of my time with Phillip before he went off to California. I allowed myself some more hours off and splurged on things. He never was contacted by any of the businesses he applied to. My boss said that he couldn\'t afford to hire another waiter at the moment (yeah, right). Nonetheless, we went to the movies, out to dinner and to the mall. Although my heart was heavy, we had a lot of fun together. In school, we simply stuck by each other and toughed it out. It\'s not like there was anything else we could do, after all. Life was going pretty good for the first time since I met Phillip.

Jamey spoke to me that Friday. I was standing in the hallway, waiting for my teacher to arrive for my last class, when she walked up to me on her way to class.

\"Hey...I\'m gonna call you tonight, okay? Around seven or something...\"

I nodded absently and watched her hurry off. My mind stayed numb for the rest of school, and even when I got home. Phillip made me a sandwich and rubbed my shoulders. I had told him about what happened.

\"Thatencoencouraging!\" he said, putting a positive lilt in his tone.

The call came a few minutes before seven. I hurried to my room upstairs and fumbled with my phone.

\"Hello?\" I breathed, panting.

\"Hi,\" Jamey said. \"I think we need to talk. Look, I\'m sorry, all right? I know you must care a lot about Phillip, but I\'m just worried about you.\"

\"There\'s no reason to be worried,\" I said emphatically. \"Yeah, people are giving me shit, but I\'m able to deal with it. And I\'m really happy with Phillip, you know.\"

\"Well, I guess it\'s your own business, isn\'t it? But I worry about you.\"

I smiled, even though only I could see it. \"I know. I don\'t mind it, either, but I know what I\'m doing.\"

She laughed. \"Obviously.\" There was a pause. \"Well, I guess I\'ll see you at school on Monday.\"

And that was my conversation with Jamey. Phillip had been considerate enough wait outside my room until I had finished. I opened my door and saw him standing outside his own room, waiting. Walking over to him, I rested my head on his shoulder, wrapping my arms around him securely. He returned the favor, rubbing my back.

\"Is everything okay?\"

I nodded. \"Yeah.\"

That night, Phillip set up a romantic atmosphere, since my mom had to work over-time - lots of it. He set candles around his room, polished all the furniture and perfumed the whole room. He had made the bed and even gone as far as to get some flower petals and toss them around (mostly at the foot of the bed). He had rode his bike to the store and bought a dinner kit and sparkling grape juice. The dinner was linguini with buttery garlic and tomato sauce, and it was delicious. We ate in candlelight in the kitchen, then retired to his room. We made love for over an hour, and it was one of the most intense nights of my life. We had fallen asleep about an hour before Mom came home. She must have checked in on us (protective matron that she is), because she gave me that look the next morning. It\'s that look that a parent, especially a mother, gives you when she knows that you\'re doing something that isn\'t necessarily bad, but that she doesn\'t quite approve of it.

I look back aose ose days fondly and I realize just how much I\'ve grown up since then. Phillip graduated beautician school three years ago and is working as a hair stylist right now. I finished high school and waited a few years before going to college. I work as a youth therapist at a mental health program for disturbed kids. I chose that job because of my own painful past with my father. I\'ve gone to counseling for it, and I\'ve learned how to cope with the memories, the nightmares, and the shame.

Loving Phillip has made me realize a lot of things about the wo Pe People are petty, but even more so, you can survive all the shit they put you through. I don\'t hide who I am anymore, but I don\'t flaunt it either. Phillip has a more free personality (he\'s what you might call a \'flamer\') and wants everyone to know who he is. My mother has come to terms with my being with Phillip. She complains about wanting grandchildren sometime in the future. I don\'t think I want any children, though. I just can\'t see the two of us as parents. But I\'ll let my mother entertain her ideas if it helps her accept who I am. Phillip and I live a few hours from where we used to live. We had to get away from the suffocating hatred of that town, and we\'re better off for it. Still, I\'m a shattered mirror that\'s been pieced back together. My glue is still weak, and I could fall apart if shaken. Phillip is the frame that holds my glass in place, but he can still be dented, still be tarnished. But in my opinion, we\'re the most valuable mirror in Nevada.