Later that afternoon, I stayed behind like I normally did on Thursdays after Book Club let out at four o'clock to help Mr. Kinney straighten up the desks and pick up any food wrappers or soda cans anyone had left behind in his classroom.

"So," Mr. Kinney said to me, "have you chosen which college you hope to attend yet?"

"Not really. I applied to five different schools that offer English degrees," I answered.

He snorted a bit. "Nearly every school in the country offers an English degree."

I felt myself blush a bit. Smooth, Justin.

"Oh."

"What schools did you apply to?"

"Brown, Dartmouth, NYU, Penn State-"

"Carnegie Mellon?" 

"Yes, there, too," I said.

"That's where I received my bachelor's," he said with a smile. "Actually, I know someone who works in the English department there.

"Really?"

He nodded as he walked behind his desk to retrieve his jacket from the back of his chair. "His name is Ben Bruckner. He earned his bachelor's in English there like I did, but we didn't actually meet until last year. He was two years ahead of me, so we never had any classes together. He also received his Master of Arts in Literary and Cultural Studies, since he wanted to teach at a college level."

"Were you hoping to teach high school after getting your degree?" 

"Actually, no. I only decided to major in English because I wasn't interested in anything else. I always loved to read and write, although I do more reading than writing these days. You can do a lot with an English degree, not just teach. I decided I wanted to teach in my junior year of college. I student-taught a sixth grade English class during my senior year and hated it. Pre-pubescent kids drive me nuts, so that's why I teach high school."

I chuckled. "I have an eight year-old sister, so you're preaching to the choir. She almost makes me not want kids of my own, because she's always in my way and snooping in my room."

"My older sister is a walking birth control advertisement, since she has two bratty sons. They always break something when she brings them over to my place to nag at me over something," he said with a shake of his head. "What did you score on your SAT, out of curiosity?"

I took the SAT near the end of my junior year and was pleasantly surprised when I received my results over the summer, finding that I had scored a total of 1500, only 100 points off from a perfect score.

"760 in verbal, 740 in math," I answered proudly.

Mr. Kinney whistled. "You could get into any school you wanted with a score like that. My score was somewhere in the 1300s. I'll bet every school you applied to will accept you. A few out-of-state schools accepted me, but I decided to go to Carnegie Mellon because my best friend begged me not to leave Pittsburgh, since he was going to the community college. I have nothing to compare it to, but the English department at Carnegie is great."

"Daphne really wants to go to Carnegie Mellon, too, for biology. She hopes to go to med school someday. My dad wants me to go to Dartmouth, since that's where he went. I told him I want to be an English major, but he wants me to be a business major like him."

Mr. Kinney flipped the light switches off before we both walked into the hallway, heading toward the exit at the end of the hall. "If I had done what my old man wanted me to do, I wouldn't have gone to college at all," he said. "I would have started working in a factory somewhere in town right after graduating high school, and I'd be pretty miserable if I did. If you want to earn an English degree you should do it, because it'll make you happy."

I smiled over at him as he opened the door for the both of us. "My dad says I'll make more money with a business degree, though."

"Do you plan on teaching after earning your degree or would you want to write professionally?"

"I'd like to be a screen writer or a novelist," I said.

"You certainly have the imagination and writing talent to be a successful writer. I'm sure you could do anything you set your mind to."

"Thanks," I said, smiling widely.

Let's not embarrass ourselves by wetting our pants and/or crying like a little girl, Justin...

"Granted, I don't make loads of money doing what I do, but I make more teaching at a private school than I would a public school," Mr. Kinney said.

I scoffed. "With what it costs to go here, I'd hope so."

I didn't know how much tuition to St. James actually cost, but I was sure it must be steep since my classmates all seemed to come from upper-class families.

"Great students like you make my job very rewarding, though," he added, making me blush.

He then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I pulled out my own pack from my pocket and he raised his eyebrows as he lit up.

"Are you even old enough to smoke?" he asked.

"I'll be eighteen next month."

"Seventeen and eleven months isn't eighteen, kid," he said. "How do you even buy cigarettes?"

I paused with my lighter in my hand, a cigarette dangling from my lips. "Uh..."

He gave me a knowing smile. "Let me see it."

I pulled the cigarette out of my mouth. "See what?"

"The fake I.D." he said while holding his hand out.

I sighed and pulled my wallet from my back pocket. I handed my fake I.D. over to him.

He looked at it with an amused grin. "Twenty-two? Yeah, right; you look like you're twelve. Where'd you get this thing?"

Daphne's twenty-year old cousin Jordan made fake I.D.s in his mom's basement and charged fifty bucks a pop, and Daphne and I bought ours from him last year. I only wanted mine to buy cigarettes with, but Jordan insisted that it say I was over twenty-one in case I ever wanted to buy booze or get into a club. Since Jordan also said that we shouldn't have our real names on it, my I.D. said that my name was Paul Montague, a character from Anthony Trollope's novel The Way We Live Now.

"I... I don't want to get anyone in trouble," I said nervously.

Mr. Kinney shook his head before holding the I.D. out to me. "At least you didn't waste your money on it - it looks pretty real... Mr. Montague.

I slowly took it from his hand. "You're letting me keep it?"

"I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't. I got my first fake I.D. when I was fifteen after I started smoking. It didn't even have my picture on it, but I used it for nearly two years before a convenience store clerk took it from me and threw me out of the store."

I smiled at him and suddenly realized that we were in the middle of the faculty parking lot standing at the rear of a black Jeep.

"How do you normally get home?" he asked me as he pulled his keys out of his jacket pocket.

"My house is only like, a fifteen minute walk away," I said, finally lighting my cigarette, figuring he was cool with it. "Daphne's parents bought her a car last year and she gives me a ride in the mornings and afternoons when I don't stay after for a club. Otherwise, I walk home."

"Why isn't she in Book Club or Drama Club with you? The two of you always seem to be joined at the hip, otherwise."

I shrugged. "She hates to read and gets stage fright when she has to talk in front of people."

Mr. Kinney faked a gasp. "She hates to read?"

"Unthinkable, I know," I said with a laugh.

"Why don't I give you a ride home?" he asked. "It's getting cold out."

All alone in a car... with him... a teacher?

"Uh... no, it's okay."

He walked over to the passenger side of the Jeep and unlocked the door. Pulling the door open, he turned to me. "Come on, there's no reason for you to walk in the cold when I could just as well drop you off."

I sighed in defeat before getting into the Jeep. He got into the driver's seat and turned the engine over. "Rock You Like a Hurricane" by the Scorpions started to play quietly through the sound system.

"Are you in any other clubs besides book and drama?" he asked me.

"No, just those two."

"Well, aren't I special?" he said in a smug tone as he pulled out of his parking space.

"I'm not in those clubs just because you're the advisor of them," I claimed, although it was total bullshit. No need for him to think I was love with him or something... which I totally was.

Mr. Kinney frowned as he looked forward out the windshield. "And here I was under the impression that I was your favorite teacher."

"You are," I quickly said. "I mean... you're a great teacher and you happen to teach my favorite classes."

He looked at me after stopping at the exit of the parking lot. "Well, I wouldn't be lying if I said I wish I had more students like you. Now, do you want to tell me where you live or am I going to drive around in circles all evening while we continue to kiss each other's asses?"

I chuckled, since that was the first time I had ever heard him use a curse word. I told him what cross streets I lived near and he turned right.

He dropped me in front of my parent's house - or, rather the house I lived in with Mom and Molly, since Dad had moved out the previous week - a few minutes later, telling me that he wouldn't mind dropping me off on club days in the future, which were Mondays and Thursdays.

I nodded and giggled a little too girlishly before walking into the house.

"Whose Jeep was that you just get out of?" my mother asked from the couch in the living room the moment I walked in, scaring the shit out of me.

"Jesus," I said with a hand over my chest. "Just someone bringing me home from Book Club."

"Someone from school?" she asked.

I smirked at her. "No; I hitchhiked, Mom."

"I couldn't see who the driver was from the front window is all," she explained.

"What, are you spying on me now?" I asked her as I sat my backpack down on one of the armchairs.

"No, I was passing by the window and saw you getting out of an unfamiliar car."

"Well, I wouldn't have to ride around in unfamiliar cars if you'd give me a car of my own."

She sighed. "Justin... now that your father and I are going through a divorce, the last thing I need to worry about is giving you a car. That would require me to either give my car to you and buy another for myself or find you a cheap, used one, plus pay for the insurance and gas for yours."

"I told you I'd get a part-time job to pay for my gas and insurance," I said.

"And I told you that I don't want you working while you're still in high school. I'm going to have to get a job, actually, to make ends meet, although it won't be easy for me to find a job that pays decently, because I haven't worked since before you were born."

"As if you won't be getting child support and alimony from Dad," I said in a smart-ass tone.

"I will, but it won't be enough to support the three of us in the lifestyle that we're accustomed to. After you move away to go to Dartmouth next year, your father won't have to pay child support for you anymore."

I sighed and sat down on the couch next to her. "I haven't even been accepted yet, Mom. I won't start receiving acceptance or rejection letters until at least February."

Mom placed her hand on my knee and smiled. "Sweetheart, it's a given that they'll accept you, since your father went there, you scored 1500 on your SATs, and you have a 3.9 GPA."

"It would have been a 4.0 if I hadn't gotten that D in Horner's class..." I muttered. "But I don't know if I even want to go to Dartmouth. Carnegie Mellon has a great English department, from what I hear, plus that's where Daphne wants to go."

She hung her head. "Justin, you know your father expects you to go to Dartmouth."

I stood up and walked around to the other side of the coffee table. "I know that, Mom, but... I have to do what will make me happy, not what will make Dad happy."

"Also, you shouldn't go to a school just because your girlfriend wants to go there," she added.

I exhaled slowly. Although I had been friends with Daphne since she and her family moved to their current home three houses down from us back in grade school, my parents were under the belief that she and I were dating. Sure, I spent nearly all my free time with Daphne, but I never once called her my "girlfriend" in front of anyone.

I had officially come out to Daphne that summer, although she claimed to have known for quite some time but was waiting for me to tell her I was gay instead of asking me if I was. Daphne was my "beard" it seemed and she appeared to enjoy playing the role, so I was fine with my family assuming that we were boyfriend/girlfriend.

"I don't want to go to Carnegie Mellon just because Daphne wants to go there," I said to my mother. "I wouldn't even have to move out of the house, because the campus is right here in Pittsburgh. Dartmouth is like, 600 miles away in New Hampshire."

"NYU and Brown are hundreds of miles away from here, too. Not very far by plane, though."

I picked up my backpack and starting heading toward the stairs. "We can't decide anything until after I get my letters in a few months. I have a paper to write," I said over my shoulder before going up to my room.

After hanging up my school uniform and changing into a t-shirt and jeans, I grabbed the cordless phone we keep in the hallway and called Daphne. I plopped down on my bed after she picked up.

"You'll never guess who took me home after Book Club let out," I said to her.

"Uh... Jake Gyllenhaal?"

I scoffed. "Yeah, because he spends so much time in the Pitts. Mr. Kinney offered me a ride."

"No shit?" she squealed, as she was completely aware of my crush on our teacher. "He actually drove you home?"

"Yeah. I walked him out to his Jeep and he practically demanded I let him take me. He even said he'd drive me home on Mondays and Thursdays from now on, so I won't have to walk in the cold."

"Aww... he wuves you," Daphne said in a baby voice.

"I wish," I said with a snort. "So, what are you up to?"

"I'm supposed to be doing a History assignment, but I'm dicking around on my computer instead. Do you know that club on Liberty Avenue called Babylon?"

"Yeah."

I had heard of it, but certainly had never been there before. It was supposed to be the best gay dance club in town according to what I'd read online.

"Well, I'm on their website-"

"Why the fuck would you be on their website?" I interrupted.

She ignored me as she continued, "...and I see that they're having what's called an ‘Awesome Abs Contest' there tomorrow night at ten."

"And why would I care?"

"Because you like guys with six packs, and... I think it's time, Justin."

"Time for what?" I asked as I laid on my back, staring at the ceiling.

"Duh!" she yelled. "It's time for us to finally go to Babylon."

I sat up quickly. "Daph... no."

"Why not? You're gay."

"Thanks for reminding me."

"And as your best friend, I want to support you however I can and that includes going with you the first time you go to a gay club."

I sighed. "I... I don't even know what I would wear."

"Just wear your regular clothes. With your perfect ass and hair, you'd look fuckable in anything."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Thanks."

"So... are we going to go?"

I thought about it for a few seconds. It would be an interesting experience...

"Okay."