STC 12 The end of the summer came and the relaxed feeling disappeared.  The younger boys went back to their own rooms and the rules were strictly enforced.  Justin and Lance had settled in to a platonic arrangement that almost worked for them.  Justin felt secure and loved and Lance was getting horny as hell.  He wanted to touch Justin in ways that made him ache when he thought about it but when it came to acting on it, he stopped.  The little boy was still such a baby.  He touched Lance all the time in that innocent way of his and  Lance was sure he had no idea of the effect he had on Lance's body.  And besides, didn't the bible say it was wrong?  But Joan said gay just was and he really hoped so because he did love Justin. At night, they slept alone until one of them woke up at some point and sought the comfort of the other's bed.  More often than not, they were found and punished.  Luckily, the monitors had developed a soft spot for the two of them so beatings were a rare occurrence.  They did, however, do more than their fair share of the chores. It wasn't long before the older boys caught wind of why Justin and Lance were being punished so often.  Justin was scrubbing the floor on his hands and knees one afternoon, when two pairs of shoes dirtied the newly clean floor.  Justin sighed but didn't look up. "Hey, you little shit, look at me." Justin froze, his heart thudding in his chest.  He couldn't bring himself to look at the owner of the voice. "Guess he didn't hear me.  Need to get his attention," the voice said, menace dripping.  Before Justin could act, a heel came down on his hand, grinding the bones together.  He cried out and tried to pull it away.  Then a hand fisted in his hair and snapped his head back until he was looking straight up, moans and pleas falling on deaf ears.  Through a watery film, he saw Joey and Kevin laughing at him. "Got your attention?" Joey laughed.  When Justin tried to nod, they pulled his head back further.  He could feel the tears sliding down his cheeks.  "Oh, poor baby." "Maybe we should get Lancey-Poo to come and kiss it and make it better," Kevin said. "What do you think, Justin?" Justin was terrified. "No," he whispered. "No?  We heard you two are always up each other's butts.  Is that true?" "No," he whispered again.  "Please.  My hand." Joey looked down and ground his heel once more and then released it at the same time Kevin let go of the child's curls.  Justin slumped onto the floor, holding his injured hand and rocking back and forth, not even bothering to check the tears. Joey squatted down in front of Justin.  "Look at me this time, Justin." And Justin did, quickly, before any more punishment could come his way.  "You're a little fag.  We hate fags here.  So we hate you — and Lance." They sauntered away, winning as always. Justin's hand was throbbing, but he still needed to finish the chore, so he managed with one hand, the tears mixing with the soapy water. By the time he was finished, it was getting late.  He rushed back to the room to change into what Sister Mary would call "suitable clothes".  Lance was in the room reading a book when Justin came in holding his hand, tears running down his face. Lance jumped up and went to him, taking Justin's injured hand and studying it.  "Justin, what happened?" Justin was sobbing now and could only force the words one at a time.  "Joey...Kevin...stepped ...on..it..and..pulled...my...hair..and ...called ..us..fags..and... said...they...hated...us." "Come here, Jus," Lance said, sitting on the bed and patting the space between his legs.  Justin scooted in and leaned back on Lance's chest.  Lance felt Justin's sobs tear through his own chest.  He hugged Justin to him protectively and leaned his cheek on the mop of golden curls, letting Justin cry out his pain. Neither was sure how long they were there, but they both knew a change had taken place.  Justin needed Lance in the same way he needed Joan, for love and support and protection.  But he also felt the beginnings of something different.  Lance recognized the same need he felt all the time these days. They were late for supper and the whispers swirled around them.  Nick and Howie had saved seats for them and frowned when they heard the undercurrent of meanness, the slurs, and the threats.  Lance and Justin tried to ignore the ripple of noise, to pretend they couldn't hear it.  They sat down and waited for their food, looking down.  The four had forgotten how cruel this place was, how there always had to be at least one victim, if not more. Justin was still the perfect victim.  He was pretty and sweet and vulnerable.  He was everything Chris said he was and the envy spilled out like lava, intent on destroying everything in its path. Lance was just in the way.  If he got hurt, well it was only because he was dumb enough to be Justin's friend. For Justin, dinner was almost as bad as the first night.  But having Lance next to him gave him a strength he hadn't possessed then.  And Howie and Nick smiled shyly across the table, offering unspoken support.  Despite the fact that his hand was screaming with pain, Justin felt safer, even if it was an illusion. The four left the dining hall, not talking, just comfortable with one another, wishing it was still summer and that they wouldn't have to do battle every day.  As they rounded a corner, they saw the group of older boys, but it was too late to run.  They froze and then Nick hissed, "Keep going.  Think mean thoughts." But all the mean thoughts in the world weren't going to keep the sixteen year olds from reminding them of their place in the food chain.  Kevin and Joey nodded and all hell broke loose.  Everyone but Justin was grabbed and held down, kicking and struggling ineffectually, slapped if they tried to yell.  Justin remained trembling in the center, waiting.  Joey and Kevin moved in, stalking the child, increasing his terror with every step. They stood in front of him and simply smiled.  "Look at us, Justin," Kevin said in that voice that sent shivers up Justin's spine. Justin met their gaze immediately, the afternoon's lesson not lost on him.  They saw the unshed tears and laughed, "We just wanted to see how your hand was." Justin looked uncertain.  Was that possible?  He got his answer when Joey squeezed it hard, new pain shooting all the way up his arm. Justin tried not to scream but the pain forced any control right out of him and it came out, filling the air. "Fucking prick," they spat, cutting it off but not before it echoed loudly through the hall.  "You better hope no one comes, you little bastard." They pulled his shirt off and wrapped it around his mouth and now the tears were flowing as they always seemed to be and muffled  sobs were coming from behind the cloth.  When they were content that no one was going to interrupt them, they squatted until they were on eye level with the younger child. "Chris wants you to know he still thinks about you." They snorted when Justin's eyes widened.  "Yeah, I guess I'd be scared, too, especially after your last meeting.  He asked us to give you this for him." They landed several solid punches to the stomach until Justin doubled over and fell to the floor.  "Get up, you little fag, that was just hello." Justin struggled to his feet, his breathing harsh behind the gag. Joey came over and Justin flinched as he picked at the younger child's curls.  "You are so fucking pretty.  If I was a fag like Lance, I might like you, too. Of course, Lance might not want used goods." He turned to Lance and laughed.  When Lance started to say something Kevin backhanded him into silence.  He turned back to Justin.  The small child waited for whatever was next, resigned to being the object of everyone's hatred.  His anxiety increased when nothing happened.  He just wanted this to be over.  Another day of torture to be over. They were all released then and the older group slouched off, bored with the game, leaving the four little boys behind.  Lance ran to Justin and pulled the gag off of him.  He held the boy to him, rocking back and forth as Justin cried.  "Lance, let's run away." Lance didn't answer.  Where the hell would they run to?  They had nobody and nothing outside of St.  Catherine's.  But he couldn't dash the younger child's one fragile hope.  He just rocked him for a few more minutes until Nick and Howie looked around nervously.  "C'mon. Let's go to your room ." Lance helped Justin up and they headed toward their room, all of the good feelings blasted away by the malicious encounter.  Lance sat down and Justin curled into him, wanting the feeling of solidity, safety that Lance provided.  Right now he felt dirty and ashamed, the feel of Joey's hands on him still fresh. He closed his eyes and let the conversation swirl around him. "So, are you guys really gay?" Howie asked. "What if we were?" Lance asked through clenched teeth.  Nick and Howie glanced at one another and shrugged. "Nothing, I guess," Howie replied, "We'd still be friends, no matter what." "No matter if people thought you were gay, too, just because we hang out together?" Lance didn't want to lose his friends but better now than down the road. Nick's eyes widened as he pondered that possibility.  Another shrug. Another glance at Howie. "We'll be OK.  So, you didn't say whether you are gay or not." Justin's thumb snuck into his mouth, a habit that only appeared when the stress was just too much to handle.  Lance sighed, "Maybe." He felt Justin tense against his body.  "I don't know, for sure.  Some days I feel yes and then other days no.  The bible says it's bad and Joan says it's not." "Maybe we should listen to Joan," Howie said.  That would be the easy way, Lance thought, the way that would ease the guilty feelings he had every time he thought of touching Justin.  But it didn't work. He tried but his parents' faces and his pastor's always won out. "What about you, Jus?  Do you know?" Nick asked, curious.  He occasionally wondered about himself and Howie but hadn't been brave enough to talk about it and no one had called him a fag. Justin kept his head tucked down, sucking away, wanting to hide.  He knew he loved Lance, that was all.  Joan had said that was as a friend, not gay.  Besides, he knew that declaring himself gay would forever separate him and his parents.  He hoped that they would want him back some day and as nonexistent as that hope should be, it still struggled to survive.  He didn't want to kill it. Howie understood the message, that Justin didn't want to talk about it, "C'mon Nick, we gotta go.  See you in the morning, guys." When they were gone, Lance tilted Justin's chin up.  The child opened his eyes and stared into Lance's, finding the love he had always wanted.  It was like the love that he saw in Joan's eyes, only different.  Justin was still too young to realize it was desire.  He trembled, recognizing it as a powerful force, but unable to name it. Lance couldn't have named it either.  He just knew that the physical feelings that were aroused by Justin's closeness, the friction of their bodies, was becoming unbearable.  He wanted to push Justin off and get away, but he knew that he couldn't explain it to Justin and Justin needed to be held right now.  So his breathing became a little ragged and he pulled Justin to him and began silently reciting the rosary that Sister Anne had taught him. When Justin finally had enough, he sat up and with wide-eyed innocence declared, "I want us to be together forever.  OK, Lance?" Lance, who could barely speak, said, "Sure, baby boy, forever." And meant it. continue menu