Chapter 17 -  St. James Academy.

By Monday morning Gus was back at home, once again happy and healthy, and everyone in the family had vowed to never again eat ‘Organic’ raw spinach. Brian and Justin had spent pretty much the whole weekend with Gus and the girls, and when they weren’t at the hospital or the girls’ house, they were most likely to be found in bed at the loft. They still hadn’t resolved all the issues that the Portland trip had brought up, but they were both too happy about Gus’ recovery and the prospects of the Grand Century account to get into the dispute again right away. Justin was biding his time and was prepared to confront Brian as soon as the opportunity arose. In the meantime, though, the boys were happily fucking like bunnies as often as they could get their hands on each other.  

This morning, however, it was back to business as usual at Kinnetik. The first topic that came up at the staff meeting that day was hiring the additional employees they would need to handle all the new accounts and campaigns Brian and Justin had brought in recently - especially the Grand Century account which would require huge amounts of manpower over the next six months. Cynthia was tasked with contacting the local art schools to recruit potential art department candidates who would be interviewed by Justin and Brian together. Brian was in charge of bringing in, or more precisely ‘stealing’, at least one new account executive, and he already knew who he thought could be easily wooed away from Vanguard.  

Justin was thrilled when Cynthia informed him at lunch that she already had one potential candidate for the art department - someone who had been recommended by a professor at the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts. The applicant was even able to come in for an interview that very afternoon. The sooner the better, Justin thought, as he was already feeling overwhelmed as the stack of work on his desk kept growing exponentially.

When the applicant arrived, Brian was unfortunately tied up in another conference call, so Justin reluctantly started the interview on his own. He was feeling awkward and a little insecure to start with because he didn’t think he’d ever done anything like this before.  That feeling of insecurity only got worse when he started the interview and realized that Philip, the applicant sitting before him, was at least six years older than him, with a BA from PIFA and tons more experience than him. Justin’s fears of inadequacy came to a head though when the applicant asked him where he’d gone to college and Justin, of course, didn’t have any answer.  

Brian saved the day by joining the interview at that point. Both men were impressed with the candidate right from the start and felt he had a great deal of potential. Brian, who was never one to waste time under any circumstances, and who was working under the additional impetus of the snowballing load of work they needed immediate help with, decided to hire Philip on the spot, telling him he could start tomorrow morning.  

After working much later than they would like, Brian and Justin finally called it a day around 9:00 pm and decided to stop at the Diner for a bite to eat on their way home. Justin, usually a regular little chatterbox, was rather quiet all through dinner, prompting Brian to take the plunge and ask him what was wrong. When Justin still hesitated before responding, Brian knew it was going to be one of THOSE conversations and sat back, reluctantly prepared to endure whatever emotional upheaval might be thrown at him.

“Brian, I was thinking this afternoon about maybe going to college in the fall,” Justin started out. “After talking to Philip and all, I realized that I can’t really be Kinnetik’s Art Director. I know you were just being nice by giving me the title - especially after I’d only been working for you for like a week. And, believe me, I have absolutely no regrets about sleeping with the boss to get ahead,” he teased. “But we both know I don’t have the experience for the job.”

“You’re wrong, Justin,” Brian adamantly interrupted the younger man. "You saw Philip’s portfolio today. He might have more experience than you, but you have to agree that he isn’t half as good of an artist. I’ve seen your stuff, and so have our clients, and it’s fantastic. I never would have landed the Grand Century account without you.”

“But that still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have a degree or any other experience to my name.” Justin argued. “Come on, Brian. How’s it going to look to potential clients researching the company when it turns out Kinnetik’s Art Director is some eighteen year old kid who doesn’t even have a degree. Fuck, I don’t even know if I’ve got a high school diploma. I just  . . . I don’t want to hold you back or cost your company any potential clients,” Justin ended apologetically.

“Fine. So you’ll get a degree. But in the meantime, you are still my Art Director.”  Brian was not open to discussion on this point. “How am I going to explain it to Geneva Pates if my ‘brilliant, innovative young artist’ - her words - up and disappears on me?” Brian grinned at the young artist in question, who now looked much less downcast. “So where are we sending you to school, Sunshine?”

“Well, . . .  It probably isn’t possible, but . . .   I did a little quick research on PIFA while I was preparing for Philip’s interview and it looks like the best art program around,” Justin enthused. “It’s not easy to get in though. They have hundreds of applicants each year but only accept less than a hundred for each class. I have no idea if I could get accepted.”

“We’ll figure out something,” Brian volunteered, pointedly ignoring the fact that he was using the pronoun ‘we’ and was sitting here planning a future out with this man he’d known less than a month.  

“First I’ll have to get my transcripts from high school. And, I’ll have to take the SAT’s, if I haven’t already.”  Justin was already starting to plan. “And, I’ll have to put together a portfolio - maybe Lindsey can help me with that. Shit, there’s a lot to do and the application deadline is coming up pretty soon.”

After several minutes of silence, Brian looked up from his salad again to find Justin staring at him with an odd look on his beautiful pale face.

“What?”

“Um, so, where do I go to get my school transcripts?” Justin asked in a subdued voice, biting his lip as he watched the slew of emotions crossing Brian’s handsome face.

“St. James Academy,” Brian answered. “It’s out near the Highland Park suburb.”

Brian had actually known the name of the school for sometime now - Ted had come across the information while he was researching Justin’s background in order to complete all the employment forms for the newly hired employee. 

“Blue jackets and blue and gold striped ties,” Justin said.

“Huh?” Brian asked. Justin’s comment had come completely out of the blue.

“The school made us wear uniforms. We had to wear these god awful blue sports jackets and ties - even the girls had to wear the damn ties.” Justin added. “Is that right, Brian?”

“I don’t know, Justin. I never saw your school uniform. It sounds about right, though, for that type of place.”

“So. That’s two real memories, now. At this rate I should have my entire life back by the time I’m what, sixty?”

“Don’t push it, Sunshine. You know the doctor said that the harder you try to remember, the less you’ll recall. The memories will come back in their own time.”

“If they come back at all,” Justin sounded defeated.

“Well, you have two more memories than you had a week ago, at least,” Brian consoled the young man. “Come on. It’s too late to be having fucking philosophical discussions. I’ll buy you a beer at Woody’s and then we can head home.” Brian pulled out his standard distraction techniques, determined to avoid the discussion of Justin’s past for at least another night.

++++++++++++++++++

Brian had tried to discourage Justin from coming with him today to St. James’ to pick up the needed transcripts. Brian had called the school earlier to see if they couldn’t just order them by phone and avoid the trip altogether, but he’d been told that it could take up to two weeks to get them sent by mail and that it would be faster to just come in person. Since Justin was insistent that he needed them as soon as possible, Brian was left with little choice but to drive all the way out to the suburbs. And Justin had insisted that he come along.

Brian hated the fucking ‘burbs. He always felt like people were staring at him out here in hetero-ville, which is probably because they were. The tall, handsome, fashionably dressed man always attracted attention wherever he went.  It was just that out here, away from the relatively safe and comfortable environment of Liberty Avenue, he wasn’t sure drawing attention to himself was a good thing. He wasn’t going to compromise his ‘fuck em all’ attitude though, so he just tried to ignore the feeling of the eyes following him.

His lack of comfort wasn’t helped much by the fact that he was nervous about bringing Justin out here, both because of the possibility that the youth would recover more memories that would be difficult for Brian to explain and also because he wanted to protect Justin from another run-in with his prom night attacker. He hated feeling like some kind of mother-hen, but he couldn’t help worrying about the young man he’d come to care so much for. No fucking way was he going to let Justin come to this school alone.  

The pleasant, but decidedly unintelligent, School Secretary that had been assisting them for the past forty minutes was starting to get on Brian’s nerves. Actually, she’d started getting on his nerves about five minutes after they’d arrived, but by now she was so aggravating that Brian was honestly contemplating strangling her if the woman didn’t shut up and just get on with things.  

She was apparently more interested in gossiping about school functions, other students and sundry other things and wasn’t in any hurry to get the transcripts completed. She was also cluelessly intent on asking Justin all about where he’d been for the past couple of weeks and how his parents were and a million other things that Justin had no idea how to answer. Brian had been biting his tongue so he didn’t scream at the woman to leave Justin alone and just get the fucking transcripts done so they could get out of here.

Justin was busy trying to assimilate all the new information he’d learned about himself from this very talkative woman. In the few minutes they’d been here, he’d learned more about his past life than Brian had told him in the past several weeks. The secretary had been talking to him like they were old friends, or at the very least long-time acquaintances. Much of what she’d said to him had gone right over his head - references to people he didn’t remember and events he couldn’t recall. A lot of what she’d said seemed to be just random babbling. A few things though had made a definite impression.

The most stunning discovery was that his last name was apparently ‘Taylor’ and not ‘Kinney’. The woman had also said that she had talked to his mother not long ago. Finally, he’d also learned that he was a pretty good student and that all he needed to do to graduate was pass his final exams - which he could arrange to take privately if he wasn’t coming back to school. Since there were only two weeks of school left in the semester, it really didn’t seem necessary. None of these disclosures had triggered any new memories, but nonetheless, Justin was dying to get out of here so he could talk to Brian privately - he had a LOT of questions for the silently stewing brunet seated beside him.  

After another five minutes, when it still didn’t look like they would be leaving any time soon, Justin excused himself to use the toilet, squeezed Brian’s hand affectionately as he stood up and then headed down the hallway. As he finished at the urinal and was zipping himself up, he noted the entrance of another person who had come into the toilet and then stopped abruptly about five paces behind where Justin was standing. Justin pivoted and was heading to one of the sinks, when he suddenly recognized the bulky, sandy-haired young man standing before him, sneering with hatred at the startled blond.  

“What the fuck are you doing here, Taylor,” Chris Hobbs sniggered. “I didn’t figure you had the guts to show up back here. Where’s your pansy-assed butt-fuck buddy, hm? I fucking owe him big time for this goddamned cast he put me in. He fucking broke my leg in two places. If it doesn’t heal in time for football in the fall, I’ll fucking kill that asswipe.”

Justin hadn’t said a word the entire time Hobbs was berating him. He had just slowly backed away from the aggressively violent jock who he now remembered had been responsible for putting him in the hospital. The feverish waves of memory flooding over him had Justin almost paralyzed. His only conscious thought was to get away from Hobbs, but he couldn’t seem to move his feet correctly. When his back came up against the tiled wall, he sank down in a crouch, huddling against the wall, staring in abject fear at his assailant who was now practically howling with laughter.  

“Fucking useless faggot. You’re not even worth wasting my time on,” Hobbs sneered again, menacing the smaller boy curled up on the floor. “But hear this, cocksucker. You better keep your fucking mouth shut about what happened at prom. You hear me? If you say one word to anyone, I’ll come after you and your faggot boyfriend so fucking hard that you’ll think what happened that night was a pleasure cruise.”  

With that, Hobbs lost his grip on his anger and started kicking at Justin’s huddled form, bracing one arm against the wall so he could balance on his injured leg and still get pretty decent leverage with his good foot in order to land several bruising kicks on the arms, legs and torso of the scared teen. After a minute or two, a bell rang signalling the end of the class period and Chris held back on his final kick. Thinking that it was likely that the toilet would get a lot busier as students transitioned between classes, he decided to get away before he was caught in the act, and Hobbs quickly hobbled out the door, leaving Justin shaking in a heap on the floor.    

Brian had finally got the finished transcripts from the gregarious, nosy biddy and couldn’t wait to get out of this place if only Justin would hurry up. He’d had a bad feeling ever since Justin had left the office but he wasn’t the kid’s mother - Justin didn’t need him to hold his hand while he took a piss. Brian was trying to wait patiently for the youth to return, but after the fifth inane comment out of the nosy secretary’s mouth, he decided to make a run for it and grab Justin out of the toilet on his way.  

The hallways were packed with kids going from one class to another so it took Brian a few minutes to navigate his way to the nearest men’s room. When he finally located it, he couldn’t get through the doors - there was a crowd of people standing in the hall and around the door completely blocking access to the facilities. He knew right away though that something was wrong - the bystanders were whispering and pointing at the door, asking each other what was happening.  

Shouldering his way through the throng, Brian pushed his way into the small room and felt his heart drop through his chest at what he saw inside. Justin was lying on the floor in the far corner, curled into a fetal position with his arms wrapped around his head and body. Brian could see blood dripping from cuts on his arms as the boy tried to shield himself from the overly helpful good samaritans who were trying to get closer to the scared boy. Justin was in full panic mode though and kept shouting at them all to ‘stay away’. Right as Brian entered, an older man, who was probably a teacher, leaned over Justin and reached out to touch the cringing boy’s arm. Brian watched in horror as Justin tried to scuttle even farther away, yelling, “Don’t touch me,” at the bewildered teacher.

Brian immediately took charge, pushing the gawking students out of the way so he could get to Justin. He unceremoniously elbowed the teacher aside and hunched down next to his frightened young lover. He hesitated to try and touch the boy, who was obviously out of his mind with fear, and likely wouldn’t even recognize Brian’s touch right now.

“Justin. It’s okay, Justin.” Brian said with as calming a tone as he could force into his voice. “It’s me, Brian. I’m here. Can you sit up for me, Sunshine.”  Brian kept talking calmly and softly, not touching the boy, until Justin finally seemed to realize who was next to him.

“Brian?” Justin pushed himself up into a more or less sitting position, but was still huddled in on himself.

“Yeah, Sunshine. I’m here.” Brian finally let his hand reach out and lightly touch the young man’s shoulder, rubbing small circles into the material of the boy’s shirt with his thumb. “Hey, let’s get you out of here, okay?” Brian offered. “Justin, can you get up for me? You want to get out of here and go home?”

Justin nodded, silently. Brian moved his hand slowly around the youth’s shoulders, exerting just enough pressure to cause the small frame to lean into the stronger man’s side. Then Brian scooped his free arm under Justin’s legs and lifted the boy up off the floor gripping him protectively in his arms.  

“Do you want me to call an ambulance,” the officious teacher asked Brian as he started for the bathroom door.

“No! Brian, I don’t want to go to the hospital. Please.” Justin shouted with a renewed sense of panic.

“It’s okay, Sunshine. We won’t do anything you don’t want.” Brian calmed him again. Then, turning to the teacher, he added, “Just help me get him out of here and I’ll take care of him myself.”  

The teacher complied with the authoritative brunet who seemed to be the only one able to control the terrorized boy. He efficiently cleared a path for them through the masses rubbernecking outside the men’s room door and then led Brian to the nearest exit. Brian thanked the man brusquely and headed for the Jeep as rapidly as he could. He carefully deposited Justin in the passenger seat then tipped the boy’s chin up so he could get a better look at his injuries.

“How bad are you hurt, Justin,” Brian asked.  

Even though he’d agreed not to do anything Justin didn’t want, he was still worried that the boy’s injuries might need medical attention. Justin didn’t respond - he just sat in the seat, rocking slightly back and forth, with his arms clamped tightly around his middle. Brian stroked the side of the sweet boy’s face, noticing the already darkening bruise there, and patiently waited for Justin to respond.

“I want to go home. Please, Brian. Just take me home,” Justin whispered.

“Okay, Sunshine. But, when we get home you have to let me look at your injuries to see how bad you’re hurt. Agreed?”  

When there was no response, Brian gently closed the passenger door, went around to the drivers side and got in, without further discussion. He quickly started the car’s engine, put the car in gear and pulled out of the school parking lot.

+++++++++++++++++

Daphne had study hall between second and third periods and had elected to go with some friends down the block to a nearby coffee shop today instead of studying in the library. As she neared the school on her way back, she saw a black Jeep driving off and just happened to be looking in the right direction as it sped past to see the car’s passenger - she’d only got a brief glimpse, but she was almost positive that the passenger was her friend Justin.  

Surprised beyond words, Daphne rushed towards the school, intent on finding out if anyone else had seen Justin there. She didn’t even have to go through the front doors though before she heard several people mentioning Justin’s name. Cornering the first person she came across, Daphne heard the astonishing story of how her best friend had been found beaten up in the men’s restroom and had then been whisked away by a mysterious, tall, glamorous brunet.