Chapter 9 - Disaffection.

Lars took to the gay community on Liberty Avenue like a fish to water. From the minute Brian ushered his new friend into his favorite booth at the Liberty Diner, Lars seemed perfectly at home. Outside the environs of the school, Lars was much more open. He immediately started flirting with Brian - as well as with pretty much any other male he saw. Brian hadn’t really had any experience with a relationship, per se, so he didn’t really know what to think about Lars’ behavior.

But, whether it was the greasy food or the greasy ambiance, by the end of their meal at the Diner, Lars was fawning all over Brian. The audience they had at the Diner seemed to egg Lars on rather than deter any of his very overt advances. Brian was flattered by all the attention he was getting from the attractive boy and gave back as good as he got. Their hands were wandering all over each other long before Debbie came and cleared away the dirty dishes. And, as an extra special thank you for treating him to the burger and fries, just before it was time to head home, Lars led Brian into the men’s room and gave him an enthusiastic blow job.

From that afternoon on, it seemed like Lars was almost always with Brian. They spent pretty much all their free time together. Brian was picking Lars up before school and taking him home afterwards. During the day they hung out together every spare minute they could: between classes, at lunch, while Brian was waiting for soccer practice to start and any other time in between. The only times they weren’t together were when Brian was forced to go home, since he simply refused to let Lars be exposed to the dubious pleasures of knowing Jack and Joan.

Without ever discussing it or making a conscious decision about it, Brian now seemed to have himself a boyfriend.

Neither Justin nor Michael were very happy with this development.

Lars usurped pretty much all of Brian’s time, which meant that little Mikey was left high and dry more often than not. The couple of times Michael had tried to join in with Brian and Lars’ plans, Brian’s new boyfriend had made it abundantly clear his presence wasn’t wanted. Even when they were just all standing around together in a group at school, Lars did his best to exclude Michael. When he spoke to Brian, Lars would position his body so his back was to Michael making it so that the shorter boy was effectively shut out of the conversation. But, since Brian was practically never alone, Michael hadn’t found a chance to talk to his friend about his concerns, not that Brian would have listened to him anyway. Brian seemed totally blind to any fault Lars might have.

Justin though had his eyes wide open. He’d seen every time Lars had snubbed Michael behind Brian’s back. He’d seen the way the new boy was consciously trying to isolate Brian from all his other friends and acquaintances. Justin didn’t like the conniving look he’d seen more than a few times on the new kid’s face in his unguarded moments. And he certainly didn’t like the fact that, although Lars fawned all over Brian endlessly when they were together, when Brian wasn’t around Lars was a little over-attentive to pretty much any other male that came sniffing around.

“Hey, Big Guy. How soon do you think you can duck out of practice? I’m starving and I thought I’d let you take me out to get something to eat,” Lars delivered this pronouncement as soon as Brian came in sight of his locker, where Lars was camped out waiting for his boyfriend’s arrival.

Justin was waiting for Brian too, watching from the classroom doorway just across the hallway. The simpering, whiny tone in Lars’ voice made Justin’s stomach turn. Didn’t this guy ever eat at his own home? Why did he expect Brian to take him out to eat almost every day. Brian worked hard for his money and didn’t have doting parents to give him an allowance like Lars did. Justin knew for a fact that Lars had more money in his own wallet than Brian had in his - he’d seen Lars counting it earlier in the day, right before he’d finagled Brian into buying his lunch.

“Sorry, Lars. I can’t do it today. I’ve got soccer until 4:30 and then I’m working a shift at the Diner tonight,” Brian stated, squeezing Lars’ shoulder affectionately in a sort of apology.

“Well, that sucks. What am I going to do all night? Are you sure you can’t just call in sick to work, Baby?”

“No. I can’t just call in sick,” Brian said, irritated by Lars’ use of the nickname ‘Baby’, especially here at school. “First of all, I would never lie to Debbie like that. I fucking hate liars more than anything. And, secondly, if I don’t go to work how am I ever going to earn enough money to keep taking you out to eat. And to the movies. And to the mall. And to the . . . “

“I get the picture,” Lars interrupted Brian’s spiel. "It's just that I'm gonna miss you, Baby. I'll have nobody to play with," Lars added, batting his eyes at Brian flirtily, "and I have this BIG problem I was hoping you'd be able to help me with . . ." As the boy finished speaking, he turned and managed to brush his bulging package against Brian's thigh, causing the taller young man to groan quietly.

"You do NOT play fair, Lars," Brian bit his bottom lip to try and stifle any more inappropriate verbal clues as to how seriously he'd been affected by that brief teasing pressure.

"All's fair . . . See you later, Babe!"

Justin and Brian both watched the retreating back. Brian's face showed a sort of delirious lust. Justin's look was full of plain old distaste. But knowing that boy was going to be trouble didn't hurt Justin nearly as much as seeing the small lovestruck smile on Brian's lips that was directed at someone other than him.

And everything in the Brian & Lars show was a beautiful rainbow-filled tunnel of love for almost a month.

~**~**~**~

“Hey there, Babycakes,” Lars bounced up to Brian in the hallway next to Brian’s locker and energetically wrapped his arms around his man.

Brian flinched away from the contact, and not just because he was leery of public displays of affection while they were in school. Actually, Brian was getting kind of used to Lars’ overt affection. What caused him to flinch this time was the pain that was shooting through his body as Lars squeezed his bruised rib cage. Brian couldn’t help but grunt out a small yelp of pain.

“What’s the matter, Sweetness?” Lars asked as Brian pulled out of his grip and put up a hand to hold off any further painful advances.

“Nothing,” was Brian’s automatic reply.

“Come on, Honeybun,” Lars tried to put his arms back around Brian’s middle with another unwelcome squeeze. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Ow . . . Fuck, get off, Lars,” Brian finally had to shove the other boy away to protect himself.

“Brian? What . . . ?” Lars was now too curious to back away from the mystery.

Lars put his arm up, braced against the next locker over, as a barrier to prevent Brian from escaping. Brian had already started leaning that direction but when he bumped up against Lars’ arm, he cringed back again, his face giving away the pain he felt when his side collided with the restraining arm. Now Lars just had to know what, exactly, was going on.

Without asking, Lars lifted up the hem of Brian’s t-shirt and peeked underneath. Brian tried to move more quickly, tearing the cloth out of his boyfriend’s hands, but he wasn’t quick enough to prevent Lars from getting an eyeful of the nasty, dark, swirling black and green bruises that covered most of the left side of his torso. Lars gasped at the sight almost as loudly as Brian gasped at the pain his jerky movements caused.

“What the fuck happened to you, Brian,” Lars demanded, sounding outraged that anyone would do something like that to HIS Brian. “And don’t you dare say it’s nothing,” he added as Brian opened his mouth, obviously about to say something dismissive.

“I . . . I don’t want to talk about it,” Brian tried one last time to get Lars to drop the subject, moving to duck under Lars’ arm at the same time.

“Well, I DO want to talk about it, Brian,” Lars insisted, following on Brian’s heels as the injured boy tried to flee from his overly-concerned beau. “Brian. Brian! I’m not going to just let this drop, Brian!” Lars yelled down the hallway, causing all the other students to abandon their own conversations and look up.

“Fine. But not here!” Brian caved, willing to do almost anything to stop Lars from yelling his private business throughout the entire school. “Meet me behind the bleachers at lunch . . . I’ll . . . I’ll explain then,” Brian hissed, trying to lead Lars by the elbow down the hall and away from all the other watching eyes. “Just, please, don’t say anything to anybody in the meantime.”

An hour later, Brian reluctantly made his way from English class outside to the bleachers set up alongside the athletic fields. Lars was already there waiting for him, of course. Brian sighed heavily but knew he wasn’t going to get away without a full confession to Lars. It was time to come clean, even though Brian hated the idea of letting anyone, especially Lars, in on his dirty family laundry. Not only was it embarrassing to have to admit to his problems, he worried that Lars would suddenly see him in a different light - he would pity Brian or feel sorry for him, think him somehow flawed now, or maybe just not want to get involved. Lars’ potential reaction scared Brian more than anything else. The look on Lars’ face was very determined though, and Brian knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of explaining this time.

“Hey,” Brian said in an almost shy little voice, betraying his insecurity.

“Hey, Baby,” Lars seemed sympathetic. “Now, come on over here and sit and tell me what the fuck is going on. Who the hell did this to you, Brian?”

“Jack,” Brian stated without fanfare or further explanation.

“Jack? You mean, as in, Jack Kinney, your father?”

Brian didn’t bother to respond other than to snort derisively at the use of the word ‘father’.

“Your dad? . . ." it was taking Lars a few minutes to assimilate this new information. When he finally did seem to grasp the reality of the situation, the only thing Lars thought to ask was, “why?”

“The fucking cat . . ." Brian laughed humorlessly to himself as if it was some private joke. Lars put his hand on Brian’s shoulder and squeezed gently, silently begging for more of an explanation. “There was this stupid cat . . . well, it’s only a kitten really . . . it stowed away in my car when I came back from the place I worked over the summer . . . I knew that Joanie would never in a million fucking years let me bring it indoors. But . . . well, it’s so fucking little and all . . . what the fuck else was I supposed to do with it?”

Brian paused in his explanation and looked around to make sure there was no one else nearby listening in on his little confession. Luckily, the area was deserted - well, except for his ubiquitous blond ghost companion, Justin, who’d been annoyingly clingy ever since the melee last night with Jack - but Brian didn’t count him. Lars was still hanging on his every word, so Brian knew he’d have to continue with his story.

“So, I got this cat carrier, box-thing at a pet store and put a blanket in it and set it up in the yard under some bushes, and . . . well, I’ve been feeding the fucking cat . . ." a light blush crept up Brian’s cheeks, surprising Lars, who’d never seen the other boy so flustered or bashful as he was at the admission that he’d taken pity on a kitten. “Jack caught me out there last night and gave me shit about wasting money on food for a fucking cat. Jack thought that if I had money to waste on a stupid barn cat, then I had more than I deserved and he sort of demanded - again - that I start paying him for my room and board and shit. It got . . . nasty. The fucking asshole ended up kicking me so hard in the ribs I couldn’t breathe and then he stole my damn wallet on top of everything else. Fucking dickhead!”

“The way you talk, you sound like this is a  . . . normal occurrence,” Lars commented, a bit lost as to what he should say at this point.

Brian shrugged but didn’t look overly upset at the admission of Jack’s ongoing abuse. In fact, Brian had seemed far more upset while discussing his care of the little cat. Lars was taken aback by this insightful revelation. The only indication that Brian was at all even uncomfortable about this topic of conversation was his ongoing refusal to make eye contact - instead, Brian seemed to be focused on something Lars couldn’t see somewhere over behind him.

“So, um, how bad is it,” Lars couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Just bruised ribs. No biggie,” Brian didn’t want to acknowledge the pain or the shame so he was trying hard to put on his usual cocky, arrogant mask. “Anyways, just, please, don’t say anything to anyone, you know. . . “

“Who would I tell,” Lars said with a little chuckle, as if he was trying to ease the tense situation with a bit of levity. “But, does this mean that you’re too broke to take me out to the Diner this afternoon?”

Even though Lars said this with a teasing smile, the sheer audacity of the comment made Justin’s blood boil. With an angry roar, Justin jumped up from where he’d been leaning against a steel support beam just behind where Lars was sitting and lunged at the callous boy as if to strangle him. Lars, of course, was completely oblivious to what was happening behind his back. Brian was startled - he’d never seen Justin react that way in spite of the many, many times his guardian had witnessed far worse things happening to Brian. Brian himself jumped up and made as if to stop Justin’s assault on Lars. His concern turned to gales of laughter, though, when Justin’s hands went right through Lars’ body and Justin stumbled to catch himself before falling.

“What?” Lars exclaimed when Brian started laughing uproariously at him. “Brian. . . Fine. Whatever.” Lars got up and huffed off in a pique, offended by Brian’s apparent response to his little joke.

Justin, more than glad to see Lars go, smiled his big beautiful sunshine-bright smile up at Brian. Brian was still chuckling as he stood up, shook his head at the smug happy look that Justin was sporting, and walked away to find his insulted boyfriend. Justin didn’t follow. He had to come up with some way to get Lars out of Brian’s life before the asshole really hurt him.

~**~**~**~**~

It took Brian two days to get Lars to completely forgive him. Finally, on Friday, which just happened to be the day Brian got paid, Lars deigned to let Brian take him out for food after school. After he was sufficiently well fed, and he’d made Brian suck up to him for a sufficiently long period of time, Lars gave in. The reconciliation make out session that followed was hot and heavy. Even Deb eventually told them to take it outside before they started actually fucking on the tables.

The rest of the weekend, Lars was cloyingly sweet and doted on Brian even more than before. Brian was relieved to have made up from the fight with his boyfriend, but still didn’t feel comfortable with all the ooey-gooey pet names and overtly affectionate gestures that Lars kept up the entire time. Brian was definitely starting to get just a wee bit peeved at the other boy, especially when he simply refused to stop with the nicknames. By Sunday night, Brian had had way too many ‘Baby’, ‘Sweetie’, ‘Studmuffin’ and ‘Hons’ thrown at him. Claiming he had homework, Brian begged off their Sunday night plans - Brian was supposed to be taking Lars to the latest action-adventure movie at the mall - and instead went to the only place he knew he could be alone and hide out for a little while.

Parking the old Monte Carlo on a side street behind a huge Rhododendron bush that would more than hide it from anyone driving by on the main street, Brian walked the couple blocks towards his destination. He vaulted over the rusty wrought iron fence and quietly made his way through the overgrown bushes surrounding the crumbling old stone crypt at the far edge of the cemetery. Ever since that first time he’d stumbled on this place while fleeing from Jack’s wrath as a child, Brian had used it as a type of sanctuary. A hiding place where no part of the harsh cold world would intrude. Brian always felt safe here - which seemed odd even to him since most people would feel just the opposite spending endless hours and dark nights waiting around in a graveyard. But to Brian, the ambiance was more about the serenity of the place, than the oppression of death.

Moving slowly between the wall and the row of boxwood bushes that ran around the sides of the crypt, Brian made his way to the darkest corner. He was relieved to see that the old cat-carrier box that he’d rescued from the trash after Jack threw it away was still where he’d set it up. It was a bit the worse for wear - the metal grating over the sides was dented and the plastic shell was cracked in a couple places, but he figured it would still work as a shelter.

As Brian approached, he saw a furtive, shadowy form moving around in front of the box, and then heard a tiny little ‘mew’ of greeting. Brian hunkered down and let the kitten sidle up to him, rubbing it’s small body against the youth’s ankles. Brian smiled down at the purring ball of fur, somehow grateful that another creature, even just a cat, was so overjoyed to see him.

“I’m glad you managed to catch him even after Jack chased him away,” the quiet tenor voice broke through the silence and Brian looked up to find the one person other than himself who knew about this hidden spot - Justin.

“Fucking, Jack,” Brian cursed the heartless man who claimed to be his father. “At least he was too drunk to aim very well. Joselito here was too fast for him. I swear that if any of those rocks Jack threw had actually hit this little guy, I would have taken him out. What kind of degenerate asshole could actually hurt a fucking kitten?”

“The kind of asshole who beats his own son,” Justin offered, sitting down next to Brian while reaching one hand over to pet the soft fur at the nape of the kitten’s neck, thankful that animals didn’t seem to have the same inability to see and feel him as most people.

“Yeah,” Brian couldn’t disagree but didn’t really want to head towards that topic of conversation either.

Brian set the cat down on the leaf-strewn ground at his feet, reached into his pocket and pulled out the can of cat food he’d brought. Pulling off the aluminum top, he laid the whole can down next to the cat box and watched as the hungry little beast lapped up the disgusting smelling paste-like substance. Then, Brian relaxed back against the cold stone wall, and just stared out into the night, listening to the happy gobbling noises made by the small kitten and the quiet rustle of the leaves blowing in the wind. His companion sat next to him, the slightly shaggy blond head leaning comfortably against Brian’s shoulder, not saying anything but reassuring him with his presence nonetheless.

~**~**~**~**~**~

“Hey there, Studly,” Lars gushed as he came around the back side of the bleachers and found Brian waiting for him in ‘their’ spot. “You are a sight for sore eyes, Sugar. God, if I’d had to sit through even ten more minutes of Ms. Cromley’s history lecture, I would have slit my wrists. She has got to have the dullest speaking voice of any teacher ever. I’m half asleep by the second word out of her mouth every class. You’re so lucky you have Bartok instead.”

Lars flung himself into Brian’s lap, almost knocking him off the tentative perch he had on the edge of the large concrete block that secured the corner beam of the bleachers in place. Brian grunted and then instinctively wrapped his arms around Lars. However, since his boyfriend was almost as tall as he was, it wasn’t exactly comfortable for Brian to have Lars using him as a lounge chair. He tried to shift Lars’ weight over so he wasn’t crushing Brian’s thigh or pressing against his only recently healed rib cage. Unfortunately, as Brian shifted the other boy, he lost his tenuous balance and the both of them ended up sprawling ungracefully on the ground.

“Shit, Brian. Ow! You fucking dropped me on my shoulder,” Lars protested, rubbing the spot where he’d knocked against the concrete base block.

“Fuck, Lars, you’re not exactly light,” Brian complained, more irritated by Lars’ petulant complaints than by getting knocked to his ass on the hard ground.

They both gave the other a peeved look before getting up, dusting themselves off and then finding new seats on one of the horizontal beams nearby. Lars seemed to have been offended, either by Brian’s comment on his weight or maybe just because Brian had failed to keep them from falling over. He sat sulking for several minutes, playing with a small hole in the cuff of his jeans and ignoring Brian completely.

Despite how uncomfortable Brian was with apologies in general, especially in situations like this where he didn’t really think he’d done anything worth apologizing for, he felt like he had to make some effort to pacify the seething redhead. It was much easier to say he was sorry than to try to suck his own dick, and Brian wasn’t ready to give up that particular amenity any time soon. So, swallowing his pride, Brian stretched out his arm and delicately rested it around Lars’ shoulders, then tugged until the other boy’s body was snug up against his side.

“Hey, I’m sorry, okay,” Brian offered, wincing at how lame the apology sounded in his own mind.

Lars looked up at him with lots of doubt evident in his look but, after apparently determining that Brian was sincere, he let a small smile reach his lips. Brian leaned in and deposited an apologetic peck on Lars’ cheek. Lars’ smile got a little bit bigger. Finally, when Brian squeezed his shoulders again with evident affection, Lars relented and beamed a full-fledged forgiving smile up at Brian.

The conversation started up again almost immediately, as if the little spat hadn’t even happened, and Lars continued to complain about almost every one of his teachers. Brian sat like an obedient, just recently forgiven boyfriend, and nodded at everything Lars said without voicing many comments. But, while Lars prattled on about everything and nothing, Brian was thinking about how annoying this part of a relationship was and silently debating if it was worth it. Face it, Brian had never had any trouble getting his sexual needs gratified, so what exactly was the benefit of having a regular boyfriend? Especially if it meant listening to him babble on and on endlessly like this. . .

“Brian? Brian, are you listening to me at all?” Lars’ touchy tone of voice eventually got Brian’s full attention again. “Jeeze, sometimes I don’t know why I bother with you, Kinney.”

“Sorry,” Brian apologized again, feeling disgusted with himself for again uttering that meaningless phrase.

“I was going to share something with you, but if you can’t even pay attention to me this afternoon, I don’t know why I’d bother.”

“Lars, you’re starting to piss me off today. I said I was fucking sorry - about dropping you and about not listening - now get the fuck over it already,” Brian spat back, getting fed up with kowtowing to Lars’ cranky mood.

“Fine. You’re in quite a mood today,” Lars gave in, sensing that maybe he’d pushed Brian far enough for the time being. “Maybe this will cheer you up at bit, though,” Lars said, reaching into the pocket of his jeans jacket and pulling out something that was concealed in the palm of his fist.

Turning his hand over and opening it up, Brian saw that his boyfriend had a nice fat well-rolled joint. Lars beamed at him with a gloating smile and pulled a cheapie lighter out of his other pocket, offering both to Brian.

“Shit, Lars. You shouldn’t be bringing pot to school. What the fuck are you thinking. If you get caught with that you’re going to get in so much fucking trouble,” Brian complained, looking around him to make doubly sure that no one else was around to see Lars’ little treat.

“Calm down, Bri. It’s just one little fucking joint. Nobody’s gonna know. Here, try it. It’s really good shit,” Lars lit the joint and sucked in a large lungful of the pungent smoke, holding his breath and grinning at Brian, then holding it out for the other boy to try.

Brian looked at his watch and noted there was still another ten minutes left to their lunch period, then looked around yet again to make sure they were alone. It seemed safe enough. Hardly anyone ever came out here to the bleachers during lunch anyway. Lars giggled at Brian’s hesitation and again shoved the still smoking joint towards him. Against his better judgement, Brian accepted and took a nice long toke. Lars was right - this was some great shit - and Brian felt the effect of the medical grade marijuana almost immediately.

The joint was almost gone in less than five minutes. The boys were already at that giggly-stoned stage and were probably being just a tad too loud. Brian was holding the stub of the joint and trying not to laugh while he flicked at the lighter with fumbling fingers, when the startling sound of footsteps clanging on the metal risers of the bleachers caused both boys to turn around at the same time. At the first sign of movement coming around the far end of the bleachers, Brian tossed the rest of the joint as far away from him as he could and started to brush away any lingering crumbs off the front of his shirt and jeans. While Brian was busy with that, Lars surreptitiously slipped something out of the pocket of his jacket, unzipped the top of Brian’s back pack which had been sitting on the ground next to him and slipped whatever was in his hand inside.

“Kinney. Nielson. Shouldn’t you two be somewhere other than lurking back here?” The voice of Ms. Saluka, the Assistant Vice Principal, rang out with displeasure as soon as she saw the two boys.

“We’ve got Lunch Period right now, Ms. Saluka,” Brian answered politely, standing up to face the woman who had found their little hideout.

Saluka looked at her watch, paused for only a moment or two and then put her hand up to the back of her ear. Right on cue the bell signalling the end of the period rang out. The forbidding looking woman turned and glared at the boys with a malicious grin.

“Not anymore, you don’t. So, you better get going or you’ll be late for your next class and I WON’T be giving you two any late passes.”

Lars stood up and joined Brian, both boys shuffling around the rather large woman to reach the pathway back up to the school’s main building. As Lars passed by the administrator, she wrinkled up her bulbous meaty nose and then grabbed ahold of the boy’s shoulder, stopping him before he could walk away. Leaning in closer to the lad, the woman sniffed at him, inhaling twice with big, audible whiffs. Then Ms. Saluka grinned evilly at the boy who was standing immobilized both from the solid grip she had on him as well as from the fear that bloomed inside him the second that grin lit up.

“Seems like you boys have been busy doing something other than chewing the fat back here,” Saluka cackled at them unpleasantly. “Both of you - My office! NOW!”

The two boys groaned in unison, knowing they’d been caught. Saluka gave Lars’ shoulder a little shove in the direction of the school and then gestured with her head to Brian to follow. Lars started trudging grudgingly away. Brian hefted up his backpack onto his shoulder, prepared to follow Lars to whatever doom awaited.

Which was when the still unzipped top flap of Brian’s backpack fell open and two notebooks along with a plastic zip-top baggie full of something leafy and green fell out and landed on the ground right at Ms. Saluka’s feet.

~**~**~**~**~

Both Brian and Lars had been sitting on the too-small hard plastic chairs outside Ms. Saluka’s office for more than two hours now. Brian’s ass had fallen asleep a long time ago, so he just sat there quietly, slumped dejectedly in the chair. Lars, on the other hand, was still antsy and kept fidgeting around constantly. If Brian hadn’t felt so utterly hopeless, he would have screamed at Lars to stop the fucking squirming and sit still. As it was, he just didn’t have the heart.

Finally a bustle at the door to the school’s main office drew Brian’s attention and broke up the monotony of the afternoon. A very tall, square-shouldered man with a mane of flaming red hair burst noisily through the doors. Before the School Secretary could even get a word out to greet the stranger, the big man blustered over to where Lars was sitting and started shaking the boy by the shoulders.

“Lars! What the hell have you gotten into this time? I should NOT be getting phone calls from your principal, young man. We’ve talked about this . . ." the gigantic man roared, continuing to shake the much smaller young man. “Where’s this Ms. Saluka, huh? I’ll find out what the hell’s going on and you better NOT be in trouble again or you’re heading off to boarding school in Siberia.”

Without waiting for a response from the boy who was apparently his son, the enraged red giant stormed past the secretary’s desk, headed for the offices in the back, looking like a Viking Raider of old storming off to invade Northumbria. The boy next to Brian slumped back into his chair, hiding his face with his hands. Brian didn’t have time to try and console his accomplice, though. Not more than a minute later, the office door opened again and this time an equally inflamed Jack Kinney strode through the entrance, glaring at Brian but otherwise ignoring the boy as he went up to the desk to talk to the secretary.

The secretary picked up the phone, pushed a button and announced that Mr. Kinney was there and then hung up. With a sympathetic little smile, the woman escorted Jack to the rearmost office. Jack didn’t say a word to Brian as he walked past.

“Fuck!” Brian whispered under his breath, more afraid of Jack’s silent anger than when he yelled and raged.

After about ten minutes, the intercom at the secretary’s desk buzzed. She picked up the phone, said a couple of words and then came around the desk and told Lars to follow her. Lars disappeared into the office with the two angry fathers. Brian could hear shouting coming through the poorly-insulated walls, but couldn’t make out any words. It didn’t sound at all good, though.

After a good twenty minutes or so of the semi-muted yelling, the office door slammed open and the big ginger behemoth exploded out of the small space, towing a shell-shocked Lars behind him. Neither the red giant nor the young man even looked at Brian where he was waiting for his turn at the chopping block.

As soon as the intercom buzzed again, Brian stood up, not bothering to wait to be told that he was next. He shuffled resignedly towards the still-open office door and, with a huge sigh, squared his shoulders before walking inside. Ms. Saluka gestured silently for him to take a seat in the one unoccupied chair in front of her desk. Brian seated himself and then looked sideways at his father, trying to gauge just how bad this was going to end. Jack was sitting stock still in the other visitor’s chair. His face was blotchy red and the big purple veins in his temples were pulsing visibly. His lips were pressed together into a thin white line. His gaze was locked on a random picture on the wall behind Saluka’s desk. Obviously, this situation was beyond the realm of even possibly ending in some way that didn’t involve Brian’s blood.

“Brian, I’ve informed your father of what happened today out behind the athletic bleachers. You were caught red handed with this,” Saluka used her pen to poke at the very full baggie of pot that was sitting on her desk in evidence of his crime. “So, do you want to explain what exactly you were doing with more than an ounce of pot on school grounds? And, before you answer, keep in mind that this large a quantity is generally considered evidence of intent to deal, so your response better be good.”

Brian knew he was screwed and there was little chance of him talking his way out this time, but he had to try.

Putting on his best Kinney charm and smiling at the old bat, he gave it his best shot, “would you believe me if I said it wasn’t mine?”

“Frankly, no,” Saluka returned with a sorry shake of her jowly face. “Your friend, Lars, has already confessed to us that you offered to sell him some of this and that, just to seal the deal, you two were smoking a sample joint.”

“What?” Brian was temporarily stunned by this proclamation. “Lars told you what?”

“You heard me, Brian,” Ms. Saluka scoffed at what she perceived as his act of innocence. “Now, don’t waste my time denying it. Just tell me what you have to say for yourself and why I shouldn’t expel you.”

A thousand thoughts were rushing through Brian’s brain all at the same time creating a virtual cacophany of words and images in his mind. He heard over and over again that woman telling him that Lars had ratted him out. Majorly! And it wasn’t fucking true! Brian didn’t even know that baggie of pot existed before he saw it landing on the ground. All he’d done was take a few hits off a joint that Lars had brought with him. That baggie had to belong to Lars. Brian was still reeling over the weight of the lies that his BOYFRIEND must have told to this woman.

Lars fucking set him up!

Brian tried again, knowing all the time it was futile. “It’s not fucking mine. I swear.”

“Then how do you explain it turning up in YOUR backpack?”

“Somebody put it there to set me up,” Brian answered, truthfully, and then clamping his mouth closed before the words that would explain everything but betray his friend could escape.

“Sorry. That’s not good enough, Brian,” Ms. Saluka concluded, sitting forward in her chair, all ready to move on to the verdict portion of this kangaroo court. “And, since you’re not giving me any kind of reasonable alternate explanation, I have no option but to suspend you. However, since this is your first offence, I will not report this matter to the police. I’ve spoken with your father, here, and he assures me that you won’t be repeating this behavior. So, provided that I get a sincere letter of apology, admitting your mistakes and explaining how you intend to turn your life around, I will let you return to school in two weeks. But you will still have ongoing after-school detention for the rest of the semester. I’ll talk to Coach Stephens about whether or not you’ll be allowed to continue playing on the soccer team this fall.”

“But, Ms. Saluka . . .” Brian wanted to protest. He wanted to scream and yell and point the finger at Lars. He wanted life to be fair. All his expostulations died before they could be voiced, though. Brian Kinney already understood that life wasn’t even remotely fair. And it didn’t really matter what he said. It wouldn’t help him out. Nobody would believe him anyway. He wasn’t going to rat Lars out when he knew it wouldn’t change anything. No matter how betrayed he felt by what Lars had done, he would never do anything to hurt the boy he’d come to care about so much.

Brian was nothing if not loyal. He simply refused to squeal on Lars no matter how much trouble he got into for holding his tongue. And, somewhere deep inside, Brian still harbored just a tiny spark of hope that maybe Lars hadn’t completely abandoned him. Maybe, somehow, Lars would find the balls to step up and tell the truth. Brian had actually confessed to Lars about Jack. Lars had to know what Jack would do to him because of this. Brian couldn’t believe that Lars would lie and then just sit back and let Brian take all the blame. Lars was his fucking boyfriend, after all. He wouldn’t back stab Brian like that. He wouldn’t leave Brian to Jack’s mercy.

Would he?

The rest of the meeting in the Vice Principal’s office went by in a blur. Brian was no longer focusing on the terms of his sentence or his father’s assurances to Ms. Saluka that Brian would be ‘punished’ for his actions. It wasn’t worth wasting his breath trying to explain and he really didn’t want to think about what was going to happen to him next. Brian just retreated inside himself and mentally hunkered down.

Jack pushed his son out of the school office and roughly guided him towards the parking lot. He shoved Brian into the Monte Carlo, ordering the boy to drive straight home. Brian knew that Jack was following right behind him the whole way. He parked his car in its usual spot and calmly walked up the driveway, Jack following behind him, all the scenery drifting by in a dark haze. As soon as he got into the kitchen, Brian stopped and looked back at Jack, passively waiting for instructions as to where his punishment would take place.

“Basement!” Jack ordered, knocking Brian’s head to the side with a glancing blow from the back of his hand.

The older man turned to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer before following a mute Brian down the stairs into the damp blackness of the basement. Brian didn’t say a word. He didn’t even bother thinking about trying to escape. He knew that any resistance would only make things worse. He walked right past the sobbing blond youth waiting by the bottom step. Justin had never been able to stop the pain. Nothing mattered. Nothing could stop the inevitable.

Even that one last small spark of hope - the withering belief that Lars, his boyfriend, his companion and ally, would come clean and rescue him at the last minute - that dying trust he tried to believe in, gave out right before he passed out from the pain of Jack’s brutal assault.