STC 15 Time passed quickly after that and there was a calm that should have been a warning.  Things were going too well.  They had a great time, spending days with Joan and her family at Christmas, feeling a part of something special.  School and sports and the singing occupied most  of their spare time and all four of them were relaxed and as happy as you could be living at St.  Catherine's.  There were blips like the punishments for sleeping together or running in the halls or the occasional bullying that one or the other would have to endure. But all in all, things were okay and if you asked any one of them, they would have told you that. So they weren't prepared the day that the Basses showed up at the school.  Lance and Justin were studying before dinner when Pete knocked on the door and told Lance Joan wanted to see him in her office. He looked up, surprised, "Why?" "Don't know, don't care, just go," he said.  So Lance did, wondering what Joan could want at this time of day.  When he got to her office, his stomach dropped when he saw the sad look on Mary's face.  She motioned him in. He saw his parents sitting, waiting for him and he started to smile. But it died when he saw their grim expressions.  "Hi," he said and waited for an encouraging sign, a sign that didn't come. Joan gestured to the sofa and he sat with his hands twisting nervously in his lap.  He looked at her and she gave him a sad smile that was meant to let him know she was there for him.  He returned it with a tiny, uncertain upturn of the corners of his mouth. "Lance..." she began but was immediately interrupted by his father. "Boy, we're worried about your soul," he stated.  Lance frowned and waited for him to go on.  "That's why we sent you here, to straighten you out." "And am I straightened out yet?" he asked innocently. "Well, we don't know.  Are you gay?" his father asked bluntly. Before Lance had arrived, Joan had asked them to be gentle and not to frighten him.  Without naming Justin, she had said how sad it was that some parents reject their children for things they have no control over.  They nodded but didn't promise anything. Lance froze.  He felt trapped, no right answer possible.  "I don't know," he responded, misery in every word.  He was looking at the floor, so he missed the anger that was surging through his father. "What the hell does that mean, boy?" he shouted at the trembling child. Joan jumped up and placed a hand on his arm, "Mr.  Bass, calm down." "Calm down?  Calm down?  When my only son tells me he is gay?" "He said he didn't know," Joan said through clenched teeth. "Well, hell's bells, how can he not know?  Do you or do you not like boys in that way, Lance?" Lance was speechless.  He did like Justin in that way but not every boy or any other boy, really. So was that yes or no?  But if he said yes, what then?  His father was already furious.  "Answer me, Lance. Have you kissed a boy?" Lance nodded, his head barely moving.  The shame radiated from him in palpable waves.  His father's face flushed a deep red and he leaped to his feet, grabbing Lance's two arms, hauling him up and shaking him like a rag doll.  "I'm sorry, Daddy," he managed, "Please, I'm sorry." Joan tried to get in Jim Bass's face, "Stop," she shouted, "Stop that." She pulled on him but his grip just got tighter on the young boy's arms.  He only stopped because he wanted to, releasing the child in disgust. "Well, boy, I guess that's the answer.  You sure aren't straightened out and I don't think you will be.  You won't be seeing us again." "Please, no, I'll do whatever you want," he said, his words punctuated by sobs. "Then come home with us and never see the boy you kissed.  Ever again.  Come this minute and let Ms.  Peterson send your things." Lance thought about the singing and Nick and Howie and Mr.  McLean and Justin.  Justin.  The boy he made plans with, the boy he had grown to love, the boy whose heart would break if Lance didn't return.  He realized in that moment that Justin meant more to him than anything or anybody in the whole world. "I can't." "Can't?  Won't, boy, not can't.  Gay is an abomination.  If you choose that lifestyle, God will damn you to hell.  You know that, don't you?" Before Lance could respond, Jim whirled on Joan, "This is a Catholic school.  Don't you teach them that homosexuality is a sin?" "Could we talk about this without Lance in the room?" she asked evenly. "Fine.  You and I.  Diane, take the boy in the other room." She nodded and gestured to her sobbing child to follow her.  When the door closed, Joan turned to Jim.  "Sexual orientation is not a choice.  Boys here are trying to find out where they fit in the world and usually sexual experimentation with both sexes is normal.  Of course, we ...." "Normal?  So you encourage this?" "I didn't say that, only that this behavior is normal and may or may not mean he is homosexual." "I didn't `experiment' with boys," he said, anger quivering in his voice. "Some children grow up in an environment that strictly prohibits this behavior.  That doesn't mean it's abnormal for those who do experiment.  If he is homosexual, the sooner he accepts it and deals with the guilt the better off he will be." His face flushed, the anger giving way to rage, "I will never accept a fag son." Joan's face flushed now, "Then that will be your loss because he is a wonderful child.  He has some great values that you gave him.  Don't throw him away." She could see she was making no impression. "It's a sin.  Pure and simple.  A sin.  He needs to know that." "He does believe that.  That is why he is so miserable.  If, and I say if, he is homosexual, he will need a lot of help to overcome the automatic guilt..." "Just shut up.  I've heard enough of your crap." He flung the door wide.  "C'mon, Diane, we're out of here.  And Lance, you staying or going?" Joan looked at him sadly. He shouldn't have to make that decision at thirteen.  Shouldn't have to choose family or Justin.  Shouldn't have to feel like a sinful waste of humanity.  He couldn't look at his father.  "Staying," he whispered.  He didn't even look up when the door slammed behind them. He stood motionless, his head still down, overwhelmed by the choice he had just made.  His shoulders began shaking and tears started to fall, and he looked up.  And Joan was there, waiting for him.  So he went to her and he cried for the loss and he cried for the pain and he cried until there were no more tears and that took a long time. When he was cried out, Joan sat down opposite him.  "Lance, look at me.  God loves you.  You love Justin.  Justin loves you.  You followed your heart today and your heart is always right.  Listen to it.  Everything else can be worked out.  Let Justin love you." She wondered if she was wrong to directly oppose his parents.  But their message was so wrong, so hurtful, and if she supported it, she was afraid then he would lose everything because sooner or later, he would need to be who he was or only be a shell.  And he was too special to live his life as a shell of what he could be. Justin came looking for him to go to dinner.  He saw the misery in Lance's face and knelt down next to him, looking up with love and concern in those young eyes.  "Lance, what's wrong?" "My parents..." he started but he couldn't force more out. "They were here?  Where are they now?" He turned and looked at Joan. His face clouded thinking of the last time he saw his own parents. "They're gone, baby.  Listen, take Lance to dinner and you take care of him tonight.  Ok, Justin?"  She believed with all her instincts that Lance needed this time with Justin, to reinforce the rightness of the choice he had made.  And she was rewarded when Justin stood and pulled his friend up, no kisses, no hugs to scare him, just being there.  "I have to go but I'll see you tomorrow," she said, promising the children that someone would be there for them. Dinner was quiet.  Justin, Nick , and Howie were there for Lance who was silent, lost to them for the moment.  When they parted later, Nick said, "Lance, we're here for you, man, whatever you need.  OK?" Lance produced a wan smile and nodded.  He was grateful for them.  It was just at that moment he simply needed to be alone with Justin. The door closed and Lance threw himself on the bed, ignoring the rules, too miserable to care.  Justin went over and took off his shoes and said, "Roll over." Lance obeyed, too upset to ask why.  So Justin pulled his pants off and folded them so that whatever monitor was patrolling the hallways wouldn't see Lance lying dressed on his bed. Then he sat down next to him and stroked his arm.  "Want to talk?" Lance shook his head and rolled onto his side.  He did want to talk but what could he say?  Justin, I think I am gay.  I chose you over my parents.  I know you're not even twelve yet but could you kiss me and touch me and make me feel better? Justin sighed when Lance turned his back on him and went to his desk, wondering what could have happened.  He picked up his pen and then just sat there thinking back over his own meeting with his parents. Shit.  Maybe that was it.  Maybe his parents had done the same thing to him? He bit his lip.  He needed to snuggle, to comfort Lance and himself but he was really pushing his luck.  Brian was on tonight and he was mean whenever Justin or Lance got caught breaking the rules.  He was one of the monitors who loved seeing the boys cry and took every opportunity to make it happen.  It was too early and with all the lights on, it was a big risk.  But then he saw Lance's shoulders shaking and his mind was made up.  He took off his own pants and shoes to limit the punishment.  Then he nudged Lance over and wrapped his arms around the older boy. Lance only cried harder.  But he pulled Justin's arms around him even more tightly.  They lay like that for a long time and just when Justin thought they avoided being found out, the door swung open. They tensed and then Justin started to scramble out, but before he could get to his feet, Brian grabbed his curls and pulled him off the bed onto the floor. Justin's cry of pain only fed Brian's sadism and he pulled harder, hoping to make Justin cry.  Justin knew that's what he wanted, so he bit his lip and forced back the tears, anger taking over instead.  "Fuck, Brian , let go." "Fuck?  Is that what you said, Timberlake?  You're in deep now, kid. C'mon, let's go." "Brian, please, don't.  Justin was just trying to make me feel better," Lance pleaded. "Awww.  How cute.  Oh, that's right.  You two are butt buddies. Taking it up the ass yet, Justin, or just sucking dick?" Justin's eyes widened and this time he couldn't stop the tears.  Brian laughed, an evil sound that only served to terrify Justin even more.  "Maybe I'll let you suck my dick, boy." With that he dragged the struggling child out the door, leaving Lance horrified, feeling responsible for Justin's pain. Lance curled into a ball and prayed that Justin would be okay.  Dear God, please help him.  He doesn't deserve this.  He repeated the plea over and over until the door opened once more and Justin was thrown onto his own bed.  He didn't move, didn't even try to cover his nakedness, the red welts standing out on the pale skin of his back and butt.  Brian tossed his clothes in after the boy , his shirt covering his face. Once Brian had slammed out, Lance got up and went to Justin, barely able to see him through the tears that turned everything into a filmy blur.  He took the shirt off Justin's face and saw the wet tracks running down his cheeks.  He knelt by his head.  "Justin, what did he do?" Please, he thought, please don't let it be that.  Justin didn't answer, just lay there crying.  Lance found his clothes and dressed him. Then he knelt back down and ran his hand through Justin's curls.  "Jus, talk to me.  Please." The younger child opened his eyes and stared at Lance.  "It was just a beating.  No..." he said, unable to get the disgusting words out. Lance looked at this beautiful child and couldn't stop himself.  He leaned over and kissed him, his lips gentle but insistent, begging Justin to let him in. And he did.  His mouth opened slightly and Lance's tongue licked, first around those lips, sweet and full.  Then a flick, inside his mouth, across his teeth, teasing Justin's tongue. Lance pulled back to find Justin, wide-eyed with some unnamed feeling, watching him.  Justin ran his tongue over his lips and Lance gasped at the innocent sensuousness of the gesture. This was what he had traded his parents for and at this moment, he had no regrets. "We have to get ready for bed, Justin," Lance said in a voice deepened further by the desire he felt.  Justin nodded, wishing he could have more, wondering if he dare ask for more.  He shook his head and brushed his teeth, trying to erase the memory of that kiss— unsuccessfully. It seemed like hours rather than the fifteen minutes that they had actually been lying there, in separate beds, wishing for the closeness of the other.  "Lance, can I ...?" "No, Justin," Lance said and Justin felt the sting of rejection again.  Lance had been playing this game for months.  Push, pull, come, go, yes, no.  It was awful and Justin didn't want to play anymore.  The thought ran through his head and he was almost ready to yell at Lance when he felt the warm body spoon into him.  "I think you've been punished enough for one night, Jus. Thanks for before." Justin wasn't sure what he was being thanked for.  All he knew is that he wanted to get more kisses.  He waited, hoping that Lance would tell him to turn over.  But Lance just held him and Justin sighed and closed his eyes. Justin rolled over much later.  Lance was on his back and Justin leaned over him, feeling the warm whispers of his breathing on his cheek.  He loved being this close to Lance, watching him sleep, the dim beam from the streetlight striking Lance's face. Justin couldn't believe that this boy, this angel loved him.  All that they had been through so far flooded his memory and he felt tears of gratitude make their way down his face until one fell onto Lance's lips.  And as light as it was, it woke Lance and he stared into Justin's face, all of the longing he felt for the younger boy surging powerfully through him. He reached up and ran his fingers through the soft curls and pulled Justin to him.  The kiss this time was a duel, each trying to taste the other, tongues searching.  Then Lance shifted and broke the kiss.  Justin sighed.  He knew it was over, he hoped just for now. Lance spoke in the darkness, "What we're doing is wrong, Justin.  We can't do this.  We'll go to hell." Justin's head knew that his parents would say it was wrong also, but his heart said it wasn't, that it was beautiful and good.  But Lance always led the dance, so he just settled in to him, hoping he wouldn't take this away as well.  Just as Justin was falling asleep, Lance whispered in his ear, "We love each other.  We are best friends.  Let that be enough." Justin nodded against Lance's chest because whatever Lance wanted, Justin would do. Their decision to keep the relationship platonic was hard to keep. The taste of one another lingered and they longed for the touches that felt so wonderful.  But when they faltered, one of them would remind the other that hell was not someplace they wanted to go. Sister Mary put in the final nail when she called them into her office several weeks later.  They sat outside, nervously guessing why they had been summoned, so that by the time they were ushered in, they could barely breathe.  Their eyes widened when they saw Joan there and were only marginally comforted by her smile. "Sit down, boys," Sister Mary directed.  "I'll get to the point. Mr.  Bass called me yesterday with his concern about your homosexuality, Lance.  He is very upset and believes that we are encouraging you to experiment.  Now you know that is not true, don't you?" Lance nodded and swallowed hard. "I'm sure Sister Anne has talked to you about the sixth commandment, hasn't she?"  Lance nodded again.  "Have you and Justin sinned together?" Lance nodded slightly this time. "Do you want me to separate you?" This time he shook his head forcefully.  Justin was wringing his hands at the thought of them being torn apart.  "Well then, you must be sorry, do penance, and promise not to do it again," she said, staring at both children. "Yes, Sister," they answered together, relieved that it was only punishment. "Run along then," the nun instructed, "Sister Anne will give you your penance." They could hardly keep from breaking into a run as they fled to the safety of their room. Joan knew Sister Mary was furious with her and she needed to be careful.  She didn't want to lose her job, to abandon her heartstringers.  She sat down facing the nun.  "You wanted to see me alone?" "Mr.  Bass claims that you told him it was all right for these children to act on their sexual impulses." "I said it was normal.  It is normal.  Punishing them only drives their questions into some black hole that they then act off of in some inappropriate way.  They are wondering about their sexual orientation at their age and it is skewed here because there are no girls.  So it's possible that they are heterosexual and don't have access to a love object.  Like prison," she said.  She had thrown in the last, knowing it would irritate the old biddy. "Jargon, Joan, jargon.  This is a Catholic institution and you know our stand on this.  Do not encourage this behavior or you will find yourself looking for employment in a more liberal environment." Joan pursed her lips, ready with an answer, then thought better of it.  She saw their faces if she had to leave and she couldn't do it.  "I understand, Sister." Back in their room, they undressed and flopped on their beds.  "Wow. That was close.  She almost put us with different roommates," Lance said. "Wonder what the penance will be?" A knock sounded and Nick's head popped around the doorframe. "Can we come in?" he asked and then dove for the floor before they could even answer.  Howie followed and sank down next to him.  "So," Nick asked, "why did Sister Mary call you down?" "To tell us that homosexuality is a sin and that we can't sin together anymore," Lance answered. Justin threw in, "She said we have to be sorry and do penance and not sin again." His face was serious, worrying once more about the fires of hell that Sister Anne taught them about in the Act of Contrition. So Lance and Justin were both shocked when Nick and Howie started laughing.  Lance was annoyed, "It's not funny."  To his surprise, they just laughed harder.  He and Justin exchanged confused looks. "Sorry," they got out between giggles.  They looked at the other two and finally were able to control themselves.  "Sorry," Nick repeated.  He saw the hurt expressions on his friends' faces and he wasn't feeling so silly.  "Sorry," he said for the third time, but this time he meant it. Justin and Lance sat on their beds waiting for an explanation.  Nick and Howie looked at one another, debating something.  "OK, well, we, well, I guess Sister Mary would say we've been sinning." "Really?" Lance whispered, his eyes wide.  The look of surprise on Justin's face was comical and Nick and Howie started to laugh again. "Aren't you afraid of going to hell?" Justin asked. Howie thought about it and looked at Nick with such adoration that it left little doubt that they were indeed "sinning".  "No, this can't be a sin.  I'm sorry.  It just can't.  Why would God think something this great is wrong?" Justin and Lance stared at one another.  Maybe.  But they had promised Sister Mary.  "When?" "After we talked about being gay that time.  We just fooled around a little and then a little more     and ....," Nick trailed off, not anxious to go into the details. "And you don't feel bad?  Not even when Sister Anne talks about the sixth commandment?" Justin asked. "They're not `impure' thoughts and deeds," Howie answered logically.  "I love Nick and he loves me.  So, simple." "How come nobody knows?  Shit, we hardly do anything and the whole world thinks we...we... ...whatever you do past kissing," Lance said, an angry edge to his voice. "Guess we're not as pretty as you two so people don't think we're together," Nick surmised. "I'm not pretty," Lance lashed out. "Yes, you are," said Howie, " and Justin is even prettier.  Everybody thinks that.  It's true, too." "I don't want people to think I'm pretty," Justin pouted.  Nick shrugged as if to say, well it doesn't really matter since you are pretty and that's that.  "Nick is pretty." Howie nodded, "But I'm not.  So..." "I am not pretty," Nick nearly shouted.  The other three started laughing then and Nick finally joined in, seeing the ridiculous argument they were having. "So, you really don't think kissing and touching boys is a sin?" Lance asked. "Nope, not a sin.  Sins are bad things that hurt people.  This doesn't hurt anyone," Howie stated.  "Well, too bad Sister Mary found out.  What's your penance gonna be— rice or the books or..." "Shut up, Howie," Lance said.  "C'mon, guys, let's get going— it's dinner time." Justin and Lance didn't get a chance to talk about the afternoon until much later, lying in separate beds.  "Lance, maybe it isn't a sin." Lance was silent.  He heard the hopeful note in Justin's voice and he sighed. "Jus, Sister Mary and Sister Anne and my pastor and your parents and my parents all say it is.  Are they all wrong?" He heard the sniffles start and he wanted to go comfort the younger boy but every time he even thought about Justin lately, his body felt electrified.  He was sure that if he even touched Justin, he would explode. "C'mon, Justin, we're best friends.  We love each other.  We just can't touch each other.  It's just not right." "So why is it right for Nick and Howie?" Lance sighed.  "I don't know, Justin.  Maybe it's not.  Maybe they just think it is." Justin thought about that.  "So why can't we think it's right?  Then it would be right for us, too." "Because we already know it's wrong, Justin.  We can't change it now," he answered in an exasperated tone of voice.  "Listen, Justin, let's drop it and go to sleep.  OK?" "OK," the little boy answered sadly, "But I still love you." "I love you, too." continue menu