STC 11 They found Lance and Howie in the tv room, arguing over which show to watch.  When they saw Justin, they stopped and stared, unsure of what to do next.  They could tell something really bad had happened but didn't know what to say or how to act. "Jus, you decide, Power Rangers or The Simpsons," Lance said, giving Howie a smug look.  He knew Justin loved The Simpsons.  Joan smiled. Lance was a born peacemaker.  She studied the sweet blond and knew his turn was coming.  His parents were already threatening abandonment if Joan couldn't get him to "see the error of his ways." Justin shrugged, his sadness obvious.  "I don't care.  Whatever." Lance got up and went to Justin and hugged him tightly.  Justin tensed but accepted the hug.  Joan wondered how long it would take for Justin to allow Lance's love back in without wondering if they were gay.  If Lance felt Justin's stiffness, he didn't let on.  He just dragged his friend to a spot between himself and Howie.  Joan slipped away, hoping that Justin would be all right. That night, Lance moved into his usual spot in Justin's bed.  Justin stiffened.  He wanted to be able to tell Lance not to stay, but his body craved the warm contact.  He could feel tears of shame welling up and threatening to spill over.  Lance sensed it all in that way he had but he didn't let go and soon Justin had relaxed into him.  Lance was getting drowsy when he felt Justin tremble, only slightly at first and then harder. "Jus, what's up?" Lance asked.  Justin shook his head and remained silent except for the hitching breaths as he tried to hold back his tears.  "Justin, what happened today?" Lance knew it had to do with what went on in Joan's office, but Justin hadn't said a word about it yet.  He had been quiet all during dinner and had just watched as he and Howie had played the video games they never got to play.  Justin just shook his head harder.  So Lance just tightened the hug and let him cry. A tiny knock broke the silence.  The door opened a crack and Howie's head poked in, "Hey." "Hey," Lance replied.  He turned so that he could see Howie and felt Justin resist, trying to pull Lance back. "Can I sleep here?" Howie asked, "I miss Nick." Lance looked startled, "What if the monitors find us?  I already get it for sleeping with J.  You'll get it double bad." Howie grinned, "I already made it good with Pete.  He'll watch out for us.  So, what do you say? Please?" Lance shrugged, "OK with me.  J?" When Lance felt a similar shrug, he nodded to his bed, "Make yourself at home." Howie snuggled down, glad that he wasn't alone any more.  Justin's voice, sad and scared, floated across to him, "Howie, what does it feel like to not have any parents?  Is it OK?" Howie was surprised at the question and remained silent for a minute, thinking, "It's never ok.  But I got used to it.  I've grown up here and at The Foundling so I guess I just don't know any different.  It hurts when I see other people go home for holidays and stuff or get packages, but I try not to think about it too much." Lance whispered, "What, J?  Talk to us." "They said...," Justin began, but the horror of it stopped him and he sobbed.  Lance rubbed his stomach and he calmed slightly.  He began again, "They said they don't want...they don't want...me... anymore." He barely managed to get the last word out before he started crying hard, the pain of rejection overwhelming. Howie knew that pain and he felt the tears prick.  He moved to Justin's bed.  "Scoot back." Then he spooned himself into Justin and the three lay there, comforting one another for all the loss that they shouldn't have to endure.  When Pete came in for bedcheck, he smiled at the sweetness, so rare here, before moving Howie back to the empty bed. The next two weeks dragged.  Justin cried a lot and when he wasn't crying, he just looked sad.  Lance and Howie worked hard to cheer him up with limited success.  Joan hugged him and let him cry, let him ask the questions that had no answers.  She hated his family with a passion when she saw him curled into a ball weeping because he wasn't good enough to love.  And no matter what she said, there was still a voice inside him that said that it was true.  She prayed that someday the other voices would triumph, the voices of those who knew he was wonderful and special and so deserving of all the good things in life. Nick was due to return.  Howie was barely able to control his excitement as he moved about restlessly.  Lance smiled and squeezed closer to Justin, watching cartoons, waiting for Nick to arrive. Joan found them and laughed, "Excited, Howie?" She ruffled his hair and laughed again when he threw his arms around her and nodded happily. "How about if we wait on the front steps?" she suggested.  She didn't mention how she knew he was on his way.  She sighed as she remembered the angry phone call from Nick's aunt. Without a greeting, the woman had launched into a furious outburst, "We are on our way and will be there in an hour.  I am not coming in with him, so you'd better be outside.  That ungrateful brat will be lucky if I ever take him again.  He has the nerve to defend that bitch of a mother.  He actually believes that he is more important to her than the drugs.  Well, I told him.  And he had the gall to sass me and say he didn't even want to be here.  You can have the little shit back and I hope you people beat some manners into him." "Mrs...." Joan started but before she could even get the next word out, she heard the receiver slam down.  "Shit, shit, shit." She flopped into her chair and shook her head.  The anger boiled up again and she took deep breaths to calm down. When that didn't work, she went in search of James, her sweet voice of reason. She knocked on his door and he looked up and smiled, motioning her in. She sat and sighed, "Got a minute? Or a thousand?" He frowned and nodded. "Nick and Justin and Lance." "What, no Howie?" he laughed. "Only the usual. Seriously, James, what do I do?" "Start from the beginning," he answered, leaning back in his chair. So she did, reviewing Justin's nightmare, filling him in on the Basses's threats and finishing with the phone call about Nick. "Justin's still a mess and now Nick will be a puddle for weeks. I know Lance is projection, but he's so sweet, it hurts to even think about it." "What are you asking, Joan? How to make it ok for them to be rejected by those who are supposed to love them and be there for them? No can do and you know it." "I try to let them know they are loved and it just doesn't help." "That's not true and you know it," he replied in a gentle tone. "We can't take away the misery, can't undo it, but we can love them and help them to love themselves. Those four are lucky to have you in their lives, constantly telling them they are good guys. Don't ever think that does nothing. Just be there like always." She felt the tears well up and spill out as he sat with her, watching her sympathetically. After a few minutes, he offered, "Their lives are difficult at best. There is cruelty here that we can't protect them from. They will grow up with damage that will be hard to overcome. We can't change any of that but they have each other and they have people like you and me and AJ to love and support them. That's more than some of the others have. And these four boys are like puppies. They soak up that love." "But...," Joan began but James held up his hand. "Give yourself a break. You aren't God. Just do what you do best. Love them." She smiled then, grateful for her friend, getting what she needed to go out and do it again. "Oh by the way, can I take them home for the weekend. Mike is around and we thought..." He nodded, laughing, "And you think you don't do enough." She was brought back to the present by Howie's shouted glee, "There's the car." "Stay here until I tell you to come," she said, her stern tone warning them not to disobey. She needed to see him alone first and to keep them from seeing any confrontation. She was ready when the car pulled up. It hadn't even come to a full stop before the door was open and Nick pushed out. He stumbled and would have fallen if she hadn't been there. He looked up, tears in his eyes. She couldn't wait and pulled him into a hug. He held on tightly, his body shaking. His aunt leaned out. "Nick, come here." He reluctantly pulled away from Joan and went to her, his head down. "Apologize to everyone." "What for?" he asked, genuine confusion in his voice. "For being selfish and rude and sassy and nasty." The glass rolled down and his two cousins crowded the window, happy to witness his embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he said in a low voice. "You should be," his aunt said. "Now go try to be a better boy. Get your bag." The trunk lid popped open and he went around, struggling to lift it out. Before Joan could go to help, the wretched woman called her over, "He is a difficult child. I had to punish him several times. Perhaps the school should look at its methods if it is turning out children like Nick." Joan clenched her teeth to keep from screaming. She merely nodded and found Nick behind the car, unsure of what to do next. Joan slammed the trunk harder than necessary and turned to Nick as the car roared off. "I'm... I'm... sorry, Joan," he said, biting his lip. She knelt down, realizing that she had frightened him. "Oh baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. I'm so happy you're back. Turn and look. I think Howie is wagging his tail," she said, a smile on her face. Nick looked and then looked back at her. "She said I was stupid and ungrateful and that my mom doesn't love me. Is that true?" "No, sweetie, it's not true. Listen, the boys really, really want to see you. Take your bag and go with them. We'll talk later."  She let him walk away toward the others who welcomed him back, glad to be whole again. But she could see the droop of his shoulders that told her that he believed every awful thing his aunt had said about him. The next few days were hard. Justin and Nick were miserable and spent hours in Joan's office. Justin cried constantly and wanted to be with her everywhere she went. Most of the time, she could convince him to go with Lance but there were times when she knew GAY was flashing in his brain and he would push Lance away.  And every time he did that he ended up more miserable than before.  Lance put up with the rejection but each time he was slower to come back for more. Joan shook her head in frustration at the latest incident.  Lance had taken Justin's side in a playground fight with a few of the older boys.  The usual insults were hurled including "little fags."  Justin fought harder, his fists flying, landing random blows that the older boys laughed at until he dissolved into tears.  Lance moved to protect him and one of the boys sneered, "Your girlfriend gonna stand up for you?" "He's not my girlfriend," Justin shouted.  "Get away, Lance, I can take care of myself." Lance bit his lip, "Fine." He heard them grab Justin and start punching him but he didn't go back.  I'm sick of this shit, he thought, as he walked away.  But then he heard Justin cry out and he couldn't force himself forward.  He went back and waded in, not much help against the bigger bodies. Eventually, the older boys tired of the game and dropped Justin to the pavement.  He lay curled up, sniffling quietly.  Lance leaned down but Justin pulled away.  "Go away." Lance stood up, "Fuck you, Justin." Joan rounded the corner just in time to see Lance storming away.  She reached down and helped Justin up and over to a bench.  He rocked back and forth, not knowing which was worse, the physical or the emotional pain.  She watched him with worried eyes. "What happened, Jus?" she asked in a don't-give-me-any-shit tone of voice. "The older boys called us `little fags' and I started to fight and they called Lance my `girlfriend' and I told him to go away and he did but he came back and I told him to go away again and now he is really mad at me." "Why are you hurting Lance like that?  He is your best friend." His lips trembled, "I don't ...don't ...want anyone to think...." He couldn't finish. "That you're gay," she finished for him.  He nodded, a forlorn expression saying it all. "Justin, listen to me.  If you are gay, you'll know it soon enough and then we'll worry about it.  But Lance doesn't deserve this.  And he doesn't understand what is going on because you haven't told him what your parents said.  That's not fair.  He cares a lot but he can't go on forever like this." He knew she was right. He didn't want to hurt Lance and he didn't want Lance to ditch him. He sighed. He just didn't want to say that stuff out loud. Joan kissed his head, "You know what it feels like to be all alone. I know you don't want that. Trust him, Justin." She stood up and took his hand, wincing when she saw him hold his side and grimace. She saw the three faces peering anxiously out, hoping Joan had a magic wand that would cure Justin's mood, but they could tell by looking at him that she didn't. She let go and swatted his behind, "Go. They're waiting." Justin approached them cautiously. His heart sank when he saw Lance fold his arms and step back. "Lance, I'm sorry," he began. Nick and Howie waited, wanting it to be ok again like it had been. Nick needed it to be ok, to feel like he was loved, and the tension in their group made that impossible. "Forget it," Lance said and started to walk away. The others followed, Justin afraid to catch up, fearing Lance's rejection. They let Lance lead and when they flopped onto the sofa to watch tv, Lance made sure he was at the other end from Justin. It went that way all night and Justin's heart squeezed tighter and tighter. By bedtime, he could hardly breathe with the thought that he had destroyed their relationship. He knelt by his bed and asked God to please help him make it right with Lance. The lights went off and the two boys lay in silence. Justin waited for Lance to come over and when he didn't, tears rolled down his cheeks. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by Justin's hitched breaths.  Lance forced himself to stay in his own bed although everything in him cried out for him to go to Justin. "Lance, I'm sorry," Justin said through the sobs that were starting. "You already said that," Lance replied. "I know..." he said, clearing his throat, " I... need..." He couldn't force the words out and he began an earnest sobbing that tore at Lance's heart. He wanted to go to comfort the other boy but he needed to protect himself, too. He had no idea why Justin was treating him so badly. He needed to know why. "J, why are you being so mean to me?" he asked in a soft, hurt voice. "Joan's office...my parents...ummm...," he faltered again. Do it, you jerk, he thought, just do it. And then it came out in a rush, "They think I'm gay and I'm afraid I am because I love you but Joan says that's like a friend and it scares me to be with you." Lance could hear the sobs tearing through Justin. He was stunned. Gay? Were they gay? He loved Justin, too, and Howie and Nick loved each other. Were they all gay? Fear curled in his stomach as the questions from his pastor and parents came back to him. Was he gay? He knew what his parents thought of homosexuality. If he were.... His stomach flipped and he just made it to the sink before throwing up his whole dinner. He leaned over panting, more vomit, crying, more heaves until he was dry retching and sobbing at the same time. He became aware of Justin rubbing his back, his touch soothing. Lance sank to the floor and let Justin clean up and get a wet cloth to wipe his face. The lights were on automatic, so the room was only dimly lit by the street lamps. Justin sat next to Lance, gently pressing the cold cloth to his face. Tears streamed down his face. He made Lance throw up. Lance would never be his friend now. He deserved to have no friends. He was awful, just like his parents told him. Lance was drained. He crawled back into his bed and Justin sought his own, not even asking if there was any hope for them. He curled up, wishing he had Lance spooned up against him, so he could feel safe and whole again. "Justin?" "What?" Justin asked. He would say or do anything to be with Lance. "Can you come in my bed tonight?" Justin let out his breath in a whoosh. Without a word, he scrambled into Lance's bed, hugging him close, leaning his head on Lance's back, feeling ...feeling what? "I love you, Lance." "I love you, too, Justin."   The next morning the two boys lay staring at the ceiling, each lost in his own thoughts.  Lance chewed on his lip and wondered about his feelings for Justin.  He knew he loved Justin as a friend but after last night, he was afraid it might be more than that.  Whenever he and Justin touched lately, he would get this tingly feeling in his groin.  He wanted to touch himself at those times but his parents had drilled the sinfulness of that into him very early.  So he lay fisting the sheets and trying not to think of Justin— at least not in that way. Justin felt relieved.  Lance had let him back in and they had cuddled all night, Lance his personal teddy bear.  Once he told Lance that his parents thought he was gay, he felt okay.  Maybe he was gay.  He did know that when he rubbed against Lance, he felt good.  And since he had been warned not to touch himself either, the more he could rub on Lance, the better off he would be.  He sighed.  That was probably a sin, too. They avoided looking at one another, uncomfortable with their new knowledge.  The morning routine occupied them and it wasn't until later that they each made his way separately to Joan's office.  Lance was first as Justin had extra chores to do as punishment for being found in Lance's bed. He sat staring at his hands and was silent until Joan frowned and lifted his chin, "What's up, kiddo?" She was surprised to see unshed tears.  "Hey, what's wrong?" "Am I gay, too?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. Joan was taken aback.  Where the hell had that come from?  And then she realized that she had told Justin to come clean.  Not the outcome that she was looking for.  "Why do you say that, honey?" "Justin says his parents say he's gay and he's not sure but he does love me and I love him and I have this feeling when I touch him and ..." "Whoa, Lance, slow down," Joan laughed.  "What does the feeling feel like?" "Like a tingle between my legs, like my ..., you know," he said and she heard the crack in his voice, and when she looked closely she could see the beginnings of facial hair.  When had this happened? She was serious now, knowing that he was wrestling with whether he was gay or not.  Without any girls to use as a yardstick for his sexual stirrings, she wasn't sure if his feelings weren't just proximity and friendship. This was just great.  The two boys terrified of being gay thanks to their narrow-minded parents, Justin young enough that experimenting on Lance's part would seem wrong.  Shit, she thought, stay out of it and let nature take its course.  Boys for thousands of years had been learning through hands on experience and had been none the worse for wear.  This certainly wouldn't be the most terrible thing to happen. What she was worried about were the Basses.  She knew they were going to disown Lance if she couldn't prove to them that he wasn't gay.  As if that were possible.  And if he was, well, they would lose their child, God's gift to them, but more important, he would lose them. And while Joan didn't believe that was a great loss, or any loss at all, Lance would certainly be devastated.  From the letter she had received two days ago, they were planning to stop in "later this month." Perfect timing. She realized that she had zoned out, lost in her thoughts, when she heard Lance calling her name over and over.  " Joan, Joan.  Are you listening to me?" "Uh, sorry, sweetheart," Joan answered.  "What is it?" "Does that mean I'm gay?" he asked in a low voice. She tried to remember where she had dropped out.  Oh yes, that feeling.  "Lance, I can't answer that.  Just relax.  You'll know whether you're gay or not and if you are, I'm sure you'll find someone someday who will deserve you." " I love Justin," he said, in a pleading tone that asked her to guarantee his future. "Well, baby, I'm sure that would be wonderful.  But Justin is a little young and maybe he's not ready for that.  Are you?" Lance bit his lip.  He wanted her to tell him that of course Justin loved him the same way.  Didn't they always sleep together and cuddle and Justin let him nuzzle his curls?  Was he ready? His body had started saying yes and his heart said definitely but his mind, the part where his parents' messages were stored, said no with a resounding shout.  She watched the conflict wage a painful battle and hoped that he wouldn't have to suffer too much before it was resolved. He shrugged unhappily and got up to leave.  She didn't try to stop him, not sure what she could say to help him.  She knew it would come out here sooner or later but today wasn't the day. He let her hug him but he really wanted Justin to do it.  On his way out, he met Justin and his heart fluttered at the smile that Justin had just for him.  "Hey," the younger boy said, "Meet ya back at the room?" "Sure, later," Lance replied and left.  As he walked through the halls he wondered what Justin was saying to Joan. "Is it a sin to rub myself on Lance?" he began the conversation. Jeez, boys, just have at it and leave me out, Joan thought to herself.  She hesitated and Justin scrunched down in the seat, fearful of her answer.  She gave him a gentle smile and avoided answering, "Does it feel wrong?" An earnest look appeared and he said, "No, it feels good.  But my parents said it's wrong to be gay and that's gay, isn't it?" "It's natural, Justin.  How do you feel about Lance?" "I love Lance," he answered easily.  So simple for this child.  A love, sweet and pure, filling that hole that his parents put there. What could she say?  She was afraid to encourage them but she also knew they needed the comfort that the other could provide.  She repeated the advice that she had just given Lance, "Gay isn't wrong, baby.  I've told you that before.  Just relax.  If you're gay, you'll know." He nodded seriously and then in true eleven year old fashion, veered off into talk about Nick and Howie and what movie he wanted to see. When he got up to leave, he hugged her tightly.  Dear God, take care of them, she prayed. That night, they were a little standoffish from one another, neither wanting to make the first move.  Last night had changed the easy way that they had of climbing into bed together and cuddling.  Lance finally took the lead, "Can I sleep in your bed?" Justin nodded solemnly as if he were agreeing to some permanent change in their relationship.  He shivered a little, feeling that something important had just happened.  Lance felt it, too, and tingled with an undefinable emotion.  He wasn't sure why. They got under the covers just as the lights snapped off.  Lance curved his body into Justin's and felt the tremors of arousal.  He backed away, remembering what Joan had said and not wanting to scare Justin or himself.  Justin rolled over and faced Lance, the narrow bed forcing their noses to nearly touch.  "What's wrong, Lance?" "Nothing," the older child lied.  "I'm just too ...hot ...to lie so close together." Justin, always fearful of Lance deserting him, felt the tears start, "We always lie together.  Don't you like me anymore?" Lance snorted. "Oh J, I do like you.  Maybe I like you too much," he admitted.  Frightened of where this was going, he rolled away from Justin, leaving the little boy frowning at his back.  Lance froze when he felt Justin's body against his, Justin's face pressed against his back. "What does that mean?" Justin whispered. "Nothing, go to sleep, Justin," Lance answered, annoyed at himself. Justin's arm crept around his waist and he heard the boy sigh.  "OK, Lance, don't be mad, ok?" "I'm not mad, Justin, good night." "Good night, Lance, I love you." It was Lance's turn to sigh, "I love you too, Jus." continue menu