1130am Saturday morning...the Taylor Estate.
"Justin! For God’s sakes come on. If we miss the bus I’ll have to take you all the way there, now come on."
"Jesus Dad, calm down. I’m coming alright?" Motioning to the uniformed woman holding his luggage, "Mary, can you bring down my other suitcase please? I left it outside my door."
"How many suitcases are you taking? It’s only two months Justin. How many pairs of shorts and shirts do you need?"
"Dad, maybe you didn't read the brochure of Camp Hell but I did. It’s two months of Pennsylvania summer. Heat. Sweat. Grossness. Please, I need all this stuff." Making the best of the suckass situation he joked, "It was your idea to send me away to this stupid camp so you and Mom can get that quick divorce you don’t want me to know about."
"How did you know?"
His smile faltering, "I didn’t. But, hey, thanks for sharing. I’m only your son. Your only child!" He knew the drill on how these things go. "So, what’s going to happen to me? Who gets me?"
"Justin, I’m moving to Europe and you’re staying with your Mother. It’ll all be fine; we didn’t want to uproot you from school and your friends."
Uh, hello? What friends? "So you thought that by getting rid of me and sending me to camp would do what?"
"We thought it best if you tried to have fun this summer. Maybe make some friends or something. There’s going to be a lot of changes this coming year and we thought you might enjoy this."
"Enjoy being shipped off to the woods with people I don’t know? Enjoy Camp Hole-In-the-Woods? Yeah, great idea. Thanks alot."
"Justin, please."
"You could have sent me back to Switzerland instead of the backwoods of Pennsylvania!"
"Your mother wanted you here this summer."
"And yet, I won’t be."
As his father had nothing to say in response, "Great. Good. Fine. Can we go now?"
The drive to the pick up point for the buses carrying kids to Camp Westmont was tediously tiring. Craig Taylor kept mum and Justin did the same. What was there to say really? ‘Please don’t get a divorce.’ ‘Is it me?’ ‘What happened?’ He was only 13 and could do nothing about the dissolution of his parents marriage nor could he dissuade them. His world sucked before but now had crumbled completely. To top it off he was being sent away for the summer while his parents divided up property. He doubted he even see his father again this year with the move to Europe happening soon.
Justin was definitely not looking forward to being schlepped off to Camp MakeMeSlitMyWrists. No matter how cool or fun or whatever, summer camp seemed as it was portrayed numerous times in stupid teen movies, that shit never, ever happened. You get stuck in some God-forsaken hovel of a cabin with a bunch of people you don’t know, wouldn’t want to know, hopefully you’d never have to ever run across these people in your lifetime and yet, you’re stuck whether you like it or not. Food sucks. Bunk beds. Great. It’s hot and lake water is just...gross. Forced organized sports? Yay. Crafts? Fuck. It’s rustic and you’re out in the goddamn woods in the middle of nowhere which brings to mind a whole other genre of teen movies Justin wasn’t willing to think about at this particular time. Not to mention the dreaded communal showers. Yeah. This summer will suck big dick. And not in the seedy, hot ‘sweaty guys who wouldn’t beat you senseless’ fantasy-type way Justin was wishing for. Not that he was experienced by any means but one could dream.
Arriving at the football stadium parking lot, Craig parked hastily and jumped out to unload all four of Justin’s suitcases. "Try to fit in this summer Justin, okay?"
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"Well, maybe you could not be so pretentious or demanding. Just go with the flow."
"Go with the flow? Dad, it was your choice to send me to private school. Your choice to live in the richest neighborhood. Mom’s choice to belong to the richest country club and your choice for our family to flaunt it. I’ve grown accustomed to a certain way of life and I am not ashamed. It’s not my fault that most everyone else is poor and has the intelligence of a blade of grass."
"See? You were not raised this way young man! This is exactly what I’m talking about. Just try to make some friends this year okay? You are 13 not 30! I know it’s hard, even if you won’t admit it, but I know you're lonely. I can see how it’s been hard losing Matthew Justin but it’s been a year. It's time to move on."
"Oh, I was most certainly raised this way. And, don’t talk about Matthew, Dad! Just don’t."
"Justin, he’s gone okay? It’s time you made new friends for Christ sakes! It’s time for at least one friend don’t you think?"
"Whatever. So, I’ll see you when I see you?"
"You can call me anytime from your mobile and I deposited your allowance in your account and that should last you the summer. Try not to spend it all in one week like you normally do."
A large red headed woman wearing a visor and carrying a clipboard approached Justin and his father. Finally, his majesty has arrived. You'd think that trust fund babies and steel magnates could keep fucking correct time what with all the millions they make sucking the life out of the poor, "Are you Justin Taylor?"
"Yes."
"Well, come on honey. We ain’t got all day no matter who you are, princess. We’ve been waiting for you and its past time to get on the road."
As she watched Justin struggle with his bags she asked, "Can you get all that?"
"Yeah." Taking a look back at his father Justin picked up two of his suitcases and trudged to the bus and loaded them in the baggage compartment. "Bye Dad."
"Remember what I said Justin...try to have fun this summer."
The woman walked back to the bus and motioned for a young boy to come off. When he came down the stairs of the bus she told him to help Justin with his bags. "What for? Fuck that, I carried my own bags and he can carry his!"
"Brian Kinney! Get your skinny ass over there and help that boy with his bags or you’ll start kitchen duty tonight and all that steam and those greasy lasagna pans will be hell on that pretty complexion of yours. And if you don't like that, I'm sure Jesus still has room for you at Camp of the Holy Ghost."
Muttering and cursing under his breath Brian walked over and picked up the two remaining suitcases wandering what the hell was actually in them considering they weighed a ton. As he was carrying them back the boy, the owner, came and tried to take them from him. "That’s okay, I got it."
Oh great. Richey Rich. Just what I fucking need. Letting them fall from under his arms to the asphalt Brian smirked, "Suit yourself."
Wincing as his Louis Vuittons hit the ground no doubt causing numerous scratches, he reached for his wallet. "Wait, here you go," Justin said pulling out a twenty and extending it to Brian.
Taking in Justin’s cherubic face, expensive watch and manicured hands along with his meticulously dressed attire, "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"What? Aren’t you like the bag boy or something?"
Ripping the money out of the boy's hand, Brian tore it to shreds, throwing the pieces in Justin's face. "Fuck you." Brian stormed off, kicking one of the suitcases on his way.
"Hey! Watch it!"
As he climbed the steps of the bus, Brian turned and bent down, peering out the door, "You watch it."
Turning to the red headed visor lady, Justin asked bewildered, "What did I say?"
"Honey, you’re not from around here are you?"
"Of course I am. What 's that supposed to mean?"
Laughing and shaking that hair which had to be a wig, by the way. Hopefully. "First time at camp right?"
"And? What’s the big deal?"
"That’s what I thought. Now, hurry that cute little ass on the bus so we can go."
Rolling his eyes at the wig lady, Justin turned back to watch his father’s Mercedes drive away for probably the last time in a long time, He took the stairs of the bus, looking for an open seat. He’d dreaded this moment. It was always the same...he would never fit in. The woman told him to find a seat quickly and started the engine, "Welcome to summer boys!" she shouted, honking the horn.
Justin quickly scanned the bus looking for an empty seat finding none but he did see the boy who he’d insulted for $20 staring back at him, smirking. As the bus lurched in gear Justin was suddenly jostled from his standing position, flinging him down the aisle face first. Not a good way to start this summer from hell at all. The smell of the fumes from the bus and the fumes from inside the sweat mobile overtook him along with his sore knee and hand that had broken his fall.
Oh for fuck's sake.
Struggling, he tried to gather himself enough to stand up to no avail. It was then that he felt someone wrench his arm up, pulling him into a standing position.
"Move it," a voice demanded harshly to someone and Justin was quickly pushed down into a seat.
When he felt the hot, sticky vinyl against his linen pants only then did he look up to see who offered him help. He looked up directly into the eyes of the boy that he’d insulted a few minutes ago. "Uh, thanks. Thank you," Justin said realizing that Brian had made someone get up out of their seat for him.
Brian stood against the seat next to Justin with one hand on his shoulder and the other holding his canvas satchel bag. "Here," Brian said, shoving the bag into Justin’s lap then taking back his seat which was directly across the aisle from where Justin now sat.
Soon they were on the highway before Justin had the courage to glance across the aisle at the boy who helped him up from the floor and the embarrassing laughter that had resonated throughout the bus. He figured him for the last person to offer a helping hand after insulting him before. Taking a chance glance, he spied the boy sitting in his seat with headphones on, oblivious to his gaze so he thought. The boy, Brian, was tall, lanky for his age which Justin assumed to be his own. Auburn hair, smooth skin, big hands and feet. Justin took in his worn clothes and the rugged look about him. Tough. More like unpolished. Unlike Justin. But very intriguing to say the least. Interesting. A very good specimen for his sketchbook, definitely.
Brian sat listening to The Cure cd and thumbed through his copy of Rolling Stone. This summer was going to suck without Michael. Big time. Being farmed out to Debbie was just the icing on the cake but he did ask for it. Thank God he talked his father into letting him go to Ms Novotny’s summer camp instead of the Jesus Camp his mother was wanting to send him to. Hell, his own house was a 24 hour Jesus Camp. He begged Debbie to talk to his parents until they relented; the camp’s soccer tournament helped immensely. So, Debbie was a much better choice than Christ the Redeemer for the summer, at least in his mind.
Debbie and her brother Vic were owners and resident camp counselors at Camp Westmont for the past 10 years and Brian had been going for the last three along with Debbie’s son Michael. But this year Michael wouldn’t be there because instead he was being sent to Camp Pocono Trails. Fat Camp. Brian did have to agree that Michael was getting a wee bit thick. Actually, he was turning into a fat ass and Brian told him that every chance he had. But, truth be told, Debbie did shovel the fat steadily in her house around meal time.
So, he was going solo and not looking forward to it. It would force him to make a new friend or be lonely the entire summer. Not that Brian necessarily craved companionship but it could get lonely there in the woods with the losers, nerds and doofuses abounding. There was lots to do with all the sports activities and the lake, not to mention the high school students that interned as counselors. Jason Bishop would be back this year for sure. Mmm, Jason. He’d had his eye on that hot body and *dsls* since last summer and knew that Jason was just as interested. Smiling, Brian reached for his backpack.
Justin watched as Brian drew a pack of cigarettes from his backpack and lit one up enhaling deeply, exhaling the smoke out the small window. He watched those red lips purse and his suntanned cheeks cave in with suction until Brian turned to him, catching his eye.
Quickly Justin turned away. Dammit. Caught. As he dared another look, he saw Brian was staring at him. "Can I help you with something?"
"Should you be smoking on the bus?"
"What are you, the fire marshall? Why do you care anyways?"
Like clockwork, the defensive always comes. Along with it comes the petulance, "Well, it’s my lungs you’re polluting and my height you’re stunting."
"You only really need one anyways and it doesn’t look like you’re growing anymore." Brian then leaned over casting a glance to Justin’s crotch, "At least not in that area."
Eyes bulging at the obviously cutting comment Justin was flushed with embarrassment and shock. "You’re an asshole!"
"And you’re a priss. So, fuck off."
'Well, this is just fucking great,' was thought simultaneously between the two boys as they rode on to their summer vacations.
The long drive to the camp, with the heat permeating the confines of the bus was hell on Justin’s allergies and his burgeoning asthma. As he began to wheeze he reached into his satchel for his inhaler and pulled out a handkerchief. Blowing smoke rings over his head, Brian heard the wheezing from across the aisle. Great. He watched the snobby blond pull an inhaler from his bag and draw two quick breaths from it. Justin was flushed and sweating along with his labored breathing.
Brian looked to the boy and to the cigarette he held between his fingers. Rolling his eyes he flicked the butt out the window and pulled a bottle of water from his backpack. The shit he did. Should let the fucker asphyxiate. But no...that wouldn’t be too Christian now would it? Christ. Sliding across his seat he extended his hand with bottle to the boy. "Here."
As his breathing calmed down Justin looked to Brian who held the bottle of water. "I’m okay. Thank you."
"What is it with you? Take the fucking water and don’t you dare try to give me any money. I’m not the water boy either."
Smiling, Justin reached for the bottle and as the bus hit a bump in the road- no telling what road kill now lay across the highway from Debbie's driving- their fingers brushed together. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was the possible anaphylatic shock Justin was experiencing. Who knows, but there was definitely a spark there. Like a little jolt of electricity that ran between them. Who knew?
Grasping the bottle firmly in hand, Justin smiled again and opened it for a drink. Taking a big gulp then wetting his handkerchief, he tried to hand the bottle back. Brian watched as his throat moved, that adam’s apple bobbing the water down...how those lips licked the remnants of moisture away. Snapping himself from the heat induced daze, he noticed the bottle being offered back to him. Shaking his head Brian replied, "No, you keep it. I’ve got another."
Justin shook his head in acknowledgement and thanks then wiped his forehead and cheeks. Thank God I wore linen>. This heat is unreal! Okay, so he helped me up. He offered me water and he even threw out that gross cigarette! But no way. He’s too cute. Too hot actually to be gay. Only boys like me were gay. Artistic, fey and never, ever hot like Brian. Matthew was like me and he was beautiful. Beautiful but dead. But definitely not like Brian.
As the buses lurched up the final hill to the camp, a sigh of relief was most definitely heard. After they all unloaded their bags, found their cabins and listened to the boring speech from Debbie and Vic, their summer would finally begin.
He’s so gay. I shoulda known the minute I spotted that ass in linen. I mean, what 13 year old actually wears linen? Plus, he carries around that satchel which probably has sketchpads and pencils. And fancy charcoals too, no doubt. Rich ass, avant garde type. Prissy little fucker. I bet he doesn't even dress himself. Probably has servents to wipe his ass. He is hot though. For a 13 year old that wears linen, that is. I mean, if I did 13 year olds, he probably would get done and then some. But, since I go for older guys he’ll miss out. Poor guy. Who wants to fuck a 13 year old that actually *acts* 13? Not Jason. Definitely not Jason Bishop. Or Ben Bruckner. Shit! I forgot Ben would be here this year.
The bus pulled up the drive and Debbie lay on the horn signaling its arrival. Soon, young boys and girls, counselors, came out of their cabins to take ownership of their wards for the next two months. Ben and Daphne were first to the bus, laughing and catching up on the year.
"So, how do you think it will go this year?"
"I’m hoping a lot better than last year Daph."
"Oh yeah, if I remember correctly you had quite an admirer or should I say fan club?"
Laughing, Ben remembered Brian Kinney and Michael Novotny. Evidently they made a bet for the summer. First to get kissed by a counselor or something just as ludicrous and Ben was lucky one chosen.
"Yeah, that was quite an, uh, experience to say the least."
"What actually happened?"
"God, they snuck into my cabin and then that boy Michael crawled into bed with me!"
"Oh my God! Seriously? What did you do?"
"That little shit Brian had a camera and I woke up from the flash. Bastard. It was hell getting the camera from him I’ll tell you that. He said he’d give it back if I kissed him."
"No way. What did you do?"
"I kissed him and then Michael ran out crying, screaming, "Brian! How could you?" I swear I thought he would wake up the whole camp."
"So did you get the camera? Did they ever say anything to anyone?"
"No, thankfully. Brian just shook his head and handed me the camera, telling me he was sorry."
Along the highway, through the hills, the line of buses en route to Camp Westmost steadily trudged along. Five buses in all. Three for boys and two for girls. As the buses came to a complete stop, all the boys stood, stretching their legs. Inside Justin and Brian’s bus, Debbie opened the doors, calling for them to unass immediately. In a not so single file line, the boys spilled out of the bus, milling around waiting to be herded like cattle to their final destination.
Justin stood alone, off to the side watching. If he thought that Brian and he could be friends, that thought quickly dissipated as Brian pushed past him and off the bus. Lighting up a smoke immediately he took in the sights as well...his eyes drawn to the two counselors who stood next to the bus. Ben. Ben Bruckner. He shoots! And, he scores. Repeatedly. A tall blonde girl vamped over to Brian trying to chat him up. Lindsey. Good old reliable Lindsey. Would she ever give the fuck up? Probably not since he’d gone to second base with her last summer over a dare by Michael. Trying to make up to him what happened with Ben, Brian was willing to do anything. Even go to second base with a girl. He shivered from memory of that night in the boathouse. And, now here she was.
Jostling Brian from his hot and horny daydream of he and Ben, "Brian! It’s so good to see you! I called to you earlier in the parking lot but you must not have heard me. I swore you saw me."
You are so on the milk carton Lindsey. "Hey Lindsey."
"I was hoping you’d be here this year. So, what’s up?" she eagerly asked.
"Not much." Uh huh.
Suddenly a whistle blew signaling to the campers that it was time to be cordoned off into groups and cabins. Daphne, the girl with Ben took her clipboard and started calling names. As Brian heard his name he rolled his eyes and put out his cigarette. Fuck. How the fuck did I get Daphne?
Ben, with clipboard, was calling out names assigned to him as well, as were the other counselors. "Justin Taylor. Justin Taylor?"
Justin moved through the throngs of people to the person calling his name. As he stood in front of Ben Bruckner he swore he heard the angels singing. "Uh, that’s me."
Smiling, Ben asked, "You’re Justin?"
Tongue tied and sweaty palmed, "Yes, yes I am."
Extending his hand, Ben smiled again showing his pearly whites, "I’m Ben Bruckner and I’m your counselor here at Camp Westmont."
Justin shook the offered hand, shyly smiling back. "If you need anything, or need to talk to anyone about anything…I’m right here, okay?" Ben replied.
Oh hell NO. What the FUCK was this?
Shaking his head mutely, Justin jogged back to the bus to get his bags. Ben watched, peering his head watching as the boy struggled with his luggage. "Be right back guys," he called to the group waiting impatiently.
Brian was watching with feigned interest as the boy once again struggled with his fancy ass high faluting suitcases. His glee at watching Justin struggle dimmed as he saw Ben appear and heave the remaining three cases and off they went.
Goddammit. Daphne laughed to herself as she watched Brian grow red over Ben’s fawning. And yes, Ben was fawning. When was the last time Ben helped any of the boys carry their bags? Uh, never? This was going to be one helluva summer.
Daphne and her group rounded the corner and trudged up the hill to Cabin Row. Between her and Ben, the boys would be divided up in cabins 10 and 11. 10 boys to each cabin and 5 showers stood between. As Daphne and Ben called out names for Cabin 10 first, Justin grew antsy. He was tired of lugging these bags even though it was he who called for their contents. He wasn’t used to exerting himself or doing any kind of manual and menial labor. That’s what the servants were for. Mary catered to his every whim. Shit, he didn’t even clean his own room, let alone pack these heavy bags. Mary always did everything.
"Alright. Cabin 11--Raymond Hillstead, Carey Turner, Brian Kinney, Mark Wilson, Brad Saenz, Justin Taylor... pick up your bags and go pick a bunk. When you’re done, come back outside and we go over the rules."
Ben was right there to help Justin with his bags and quickly moved them inside Cabin 11. It seemed okay for a cabin, Justin thought. Could use some decoration but whatever. "How’s this one right here?"
Feeling infinitely special at the treatment he was receiving from Ben the counselor. The counselor that told him to come to him if he ever needed anything. "Thanks Ben, this is good."
"Thanks Ben, this is good," Brian mocked him in falsetto from atop his perch in the bunk across from him.
"Brian, cut it out would you?"
"Sure Ben. So, how was your year?
Hello? What's going on here? Justin just watched the interaction between the two.
"It was good Brian, thanks. Not planning on photography again this year with your little friend again are we?"
Brian’s smile faltered slightly then returned, "Uh, actually no. I’m playing soccer here. I’ll be the one voted MVP just so you know. For when you want to congratulate me, that is."
"Well, that’s interesting. Let’s wait until we see how you do at tryouts, okay? I mean, since I’ll be one of the ones who’ll be voting for MVP since I’m the coach."
Touche. Yeah, that was a burn if I ever heard one. Justin laughed in spite of it all. "What are you laughing at blondie?"
"Nothing."
"I didn’t think so. Careful you don't have another fit or something."
Justin rolled his eyes as the typical 13 year old would do, short of a tantrum and faced away from Brian.
"So, Justin. Here’s your locker and you can fit your luggage under your bed here. I guess you’re the odd man out and lucked out with a free topper," Ben smiled motioning to the empty bunk atop Justin’s bed. "You sure you don’t want the top bunk?"
"No, I’m okay down here thanks."
"Yeah, believe me, he's a bottom...bunk for sure."
Rolling his eyes at Brian, Ben excused himself, calling to the boys to return outside in five minutes.
As both boys unpacked, they stole quick glances at each other. Justin lined his wall locker with his hanging clothes and shoes at the bottom. Pulling out the drawers from the small night table, he put his unmentionables...tighty whites inside.
Brian was back atop his bunk, peering over to watch Justin. The other boys were joking and laughing, some roughhousing to while away the time before dinner.
"Where are you from anyways?"
"Pittsburgh. And you?"
"The Pitts, same as you. Hard to believe though. Exactly how rich are you?"
"Unbelieveably so."
Brian should have expected that smarm. "What school do you go to?"
"St James Academy."
"Jesus, I should have known. That school sucks. And, not in a positive, life affirming kind of way."
"What would you know about it?"
"Oh, I know."
"Really."
"Yeah."
Okay. Détente? What is this? Next thing you know someone's mother will get brought into this.
"Well, where do you go to school?"
"Woodrow Wilson."
"I’ve never even heard of that school."
"That’s a shocker. There is a whole world outside your tower Rapunzel, in case you didn't know."
"Why are you being an asshole?"
"Why are you being a silly faggot?"
At those words, Justin stilled his movements and glared at Brian. The look on his face was one of utter shock and anger. It was at the hint of tears that Brian thought better of his next words. "Look, whatever. Justin, right? I didn’t mean that, okay?"
"Whatever. Look, you stay away from me and I’ll stay away from you!"
A group of boys came over, messing about. "Hey, look at the pretty boy over there!"
"Yeah, with all his fancy luggage and cool clothes. Must be a regular Richey Rich here."
"Daddy buy you all those things?"
Brian watched as Justin’s hands trembled and his breathing became labored again. Great, here comes the anaphylactic shock again. Seems much worse than the other one. "Hey, fuck off! Go on, " Brian yelled at the boys that crowded around Justin.
"Are you okay?"
Wheezing and flushed, Justin managed to retort, "Fuck off!"
Quickly, Brian jumped down from his bed, reaching into Justin’s satchel that was hanging from his bunk. Pulling out the inhaler, he handed it to Justin who seemed glad to see it. Taking two quick puffs he waited, looking up to find Brian standing watch over him silently with what seemed a hint of fear in his eyes.
When Justin’s breathing calmed Brian shrugged nonchalance and replied, "You should keep that handy out here. You know for those allergies or whatever. There’s lots of bugs and dust and pollen and you know...all kinds of allergic shit."
"Yeah, thanks."
Noticing that they were alone in the cabing they gathered themselves, giving each other a small smile that seemed to cancel out their earlier outbursts. Ben was calling them to come outside to go over the rules of camp with the others. Dinner was at 7pm and after that came open activity hour in the cafeteria where everyone could meet up and/or introduce themselves. After that, it was lights out at 10pm.
Separating after the rules, the boys meandered to the cafeteria for dinner. Brian met up with some boys he knew from last summer and Justin sat in a corner eating alone. Justin watched all the boys and girls pair up in their cliques- some knew each other well and others meeting for the first time. He watched Brian from across the room, sitting with a few boys from their cabin, playing hackey sack and kicking around a soccer ball.
Showers were open from 9-10pm. But at 830, Justin gathered his things and went timidly into the showers. Outside of gym class at St James, Justin had never been around other boys like that. As in, naked and wet. It had always been an embarrassing time for him and he hurried through those mandatory school showers. Thinking he was alone since the showers weren’t officially open yet, he moved quietly through the shower house and picked the last stall. As he approached the stall he noticed the curtain drawn shut and drew it open.
Brian was there. In the shower. With another boy. They were together in the shower. Doing things. Together. They both had their shirts off and Brian’s jeans were at his feet. Those long naked, strong legs were bare. His chest was flushed and heaving and he was making these low growling noises. The other boy was on his knees, one hand on Brian’s bare hip and the other moving furiously on his own crotch. Brian, eyes rolled back in his head, was leaning against the tile wall with his hands gripped tightly in the boy’s black hair. His mouth open, emitting moans of pleasure along with those growls.
The boy on his knees, was a counselor Justin was sure. He saw him with talking with Brian in the cafeteria at dinner and later to Ben. The counselor was moaning as well with Brian’s dick down his throat. Sucking and slurping noises suddenly flooded the shower area seemingly maginified as if in a tunnel. How could they not know he was there? Did they not hear the shower curtain being flung open or where they too in to what was actually going on to notice?
Momentarily stunned, Justin jumped back when Brian’s eyes opened, meeting his. Shocked, Justin turned away but quickly turned back, watching Brian stare into him, licking his lips all the while. He was frozen in place. Couldn’t move. Didn’t dare move. If he did he was afraid he’d never feel this feeling again. Never see something so beautiful as he was seeing right now if he turned away again.
When Brian exhaled harshly, groaning what had to be his release, still staring wide eyed at his voyeur, Justin stumbled backwards. As he did, he bumped into the adjacent stall causing him to drop his basket of toiletries to the floor, its bottles and containers spilling out...drowning the counselors cries of pleasure.
Justin ran, practically flailing, out of the shower house after trying to gather his toiletries that were strewn about. Fuck, I need my inhaler. Alone he hurried to his bed and got in, not minding to change into his sleep clothes.
He was shocked. It wasn’t as if he never thought of these things. Because he did. A lot. It’s just that he’d never seen them. Actually seen them outside of the occasional nudie mag he’d steal from the magazine vendor up the street from his dad’s work. He was only 13 for Christ sakes.
But seeing Brian in there. Doing those things...and he called me a faggot! He’d called me that and he actually is one. I mean, right? He is, right? Matthew and I just kissed and well, I did touch it a few times. But, I never put my mouth on it or put it in my mouth. Never! We didn’t do that. Maybe if he was still alive we would have. I miss him so much. But, we didn’t. And now that I saw Brian do that and I liked it. liked watching that...what does that mean? I know I like boys. Or one boy. But I thought it was just Matthew- that he was special. That we were special or something. But in one day I meet Brian and he’s...God, he’s so beautiful. He looks like that sculpture, that one by Michelangelo or something. And then there’s Ben. He’s beautiful too.
Brian. He...he saw me. He knew I was there. Watching me...licking his lips, making those noises.
"Justin?"
"Ben? What are you doing here?"
"I saw you run from the showers. Are you okay? Is there something wrong?"
"No. Nothing’s wrong. I just started coughing and I needed my inhaler. But, I’m better now."
Sitting down on the edge of the bunk beside him Ben leaned down to touch the flushed face. "You’re pretty hot."
"Uh, thanks?"
Laughing, "I meant your forehead. Your forehead is hot."
"Oh, yeah. I just get overheated is all...you know, with my ashthma."
"Yeah. "
"Ben, how old are you?"
"I’m 17."
"Wow, that’s old."
Smiling, "17 is old to a 13 year old kid."
"I'm not a kid, I'll be 14 this summer."
Brian stormed into the cabin about this time looking for Justin but seeing Ben. Sitting on Justin’s bed. Close, with his hand on Justin’s cheek. "Well, isn’t this quaint?"
"Brian. Uh, hey."
"Yeah. Hey Ben. Sorry to interrupt your private moment and all but are you supposed to be in here? I mean, in bed with him like that?"
Quickly standing up, Ben cleared his throat, "I was just checking on Justin. I saw him run from the showers earlier and wanted to check to make sure he was okay, right Justin?"
"Yeah, that’s right. I don't feel too well so I'm making it an early night."
"Running from the showers? What, did something scare you in the big, dark showers Sunshine? Was it a snake or something?"
"No, it wasn’t big enough to be a snake," Justin smirked , catching Brian’s glare. "I just needed my inhaler."
Nodding his head Brian, with tongue in cheek, Brian moved to his bunk, taking off his shirt. As Ben and Justin both watched, he skimmed his jeans off as well, standing there in his boxers. "I guess I’ll make it an early night too."
Ben took this time to get up from the bed, thinking it a good time to haul ass, "Yeah, well. Alright you two, see you in the morning at roll call and breakfast. Sleep well because you have a big day ahead of you."
"Hm."
"Okay, goodnight Ben. Thanks for checking on me."
"You’re welcome Justin. Brian, goodnight."
"Later. Buh bye."
As Ben left the cabin, the boys lay in silence. Justin turned over to face the wall away from Brian’s prying eyes. Huffing, Brian jumped down from his bunk and reached into his jean’s pocket, pulling out the inhaler Justin had dropped. Placing it on Justin’s nightstand, "You dropped this back there."
Turning over to see what Brian was talking about, he spied the errant inhaler and met his eyes. "Thank you."
"About what you saw in-"
"I don’t know what you’re talking about."
"Good. Let’s keep it that way."
Brian climbed back atop his bunk and reached over to turn his bunk light off, drowning out the light inside Cabin 11. Rolling over to face the opposite wall because that was the side he slept on alright? No other reason whatsoever. None. He noticed Justin looking up at him. Not daring to break eye contact, he stared back at the boy.
"Why did you call me that?"
Jesus, what now? Brian had no idea what he’d done this time. What did he call him?
"Sunshine. You know, you called me Sunshine. Why’d you call me that?"
Cuz you were lit up like a fucking lightbulb? Laughing, Brian replied, "No particular reason."
"Oh."
Of course the next day the boys went back to acting like nothing happened. It was a regular theme brewing between them. The rest of the week went along as best it could as was immersion in camp life.
As a special treat on Fridays, Vic brought out the sailboat and all the boys who had excelled in their classes and sports for the week were sailed around the lake as a reward. Big deal. This was the reward for being subjected to macaroni art? To the akwardness that is archery and the pleasantness of being beaned repeatedly by a volleyball? A speed boat ride would do better than some rickety old sailboat that you spent more time fucking with the ropes and battening down the hatches or whatever the hell they were, rather than taking in the actual magical scenery of water. And trees. Good times. Yes, splendid indeed.
Brian nor Justin was too thrilled when they found out they would be receiving a slip around the cove. Boring snorefest. If asked, they’d both probably tell you that they’d rather do their laundry. And that was saying a lot for Justin. They did it though and suffered through it all. On opposite ends of the boat from each other.
The next week had been fraught with uneasiness around the other boys. Much like it was normally but Justin had actually been trying to make friends or chill out, whatever it was that his father accused him of. The final straw happened yesterday at lunch when he was tripped by Mark Wilson, a boy from his cabin. Not only did he spill the contents of the lackluster lunch but covered himself and a few others in cherry Kool Aid.
Brian sat watching it all unfold, listening to the boys as they planned their latest humiliation of Justin. All through the week it had been one thing after another. First his contact lens case went missing so Justin had to wear his glasses. Truth be told, Brian thought Justin looked cuter in his glasses but whatever. Point is, the boys started taking things from Justin. Next was his MP3 player. Then yesterday his watch was missing. It was futile to report it to the counselors for fear of a blanket party at night with blocks of Lava pelting you across your body as the others kept a blanket taut over you and your mouth gagged shut. No one wanted that.
Brian had long been pigeon holed into the role of protector. He’d been there for Michael numerous times and now he’d have to be there for Justin. He really couldn’t stand the little shit but there was something about him. Something sweet, Brian reckoned, underneath all that moneyed bullshit. He seemed unhappy to say the least. All that money and the freak still wasn’t happy. Just goes to show, I guess.
But, Brian was all about him this summer so his protective tendency was fucking up his groove. True, he did miss Mikey, but he was getting a lot of play and planned on getting a lot more including up to his 14th birthday. And, with Mikey here Brian wouldn’t be enjoying those late nights by the docks or in the shower house after lights out, so he wasn’t that broken up about it. Jason didn’t know it, but Brian was giving himself to Jason as his present to him this summer. So in all, he really didn’t have a lot of time to run interference for Justin with the other boys when he could be getting sucked off or sucking off Jason. Still, it wasn’t fair how the boys always picked on him. He minded his own business in a stand offish kind of way but that didn’t deter them.
After Justin ran off to clean himself up and change clothes, Brian sat at the table biding his time. Finally when the other boys rose to leave and take their trays Brian made his move. Coming up behind Mark, Brian rushed the boy subsequently sending him to his knees. When Mark regained his composure, Daph and Emmett, another counselor, came over to break up the fight threatening to start.
"What’s your problem Kinney!"
"Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, Wilson?"
"Oh, you mean poor little Taylor? He’s a scrawny little faggot! What do you care?"
"I don’t. Just leave him and his shit alone."
Justin wouldn’t know any of this because at the time he was back in the cabin changing his clothes. All during the week he picked up the phone to call his father or his mother. Come get me. Rescue me from this hell on earth called Summer Camp. No. He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t be some silly faggot. Besides, what’s to go back to? The house would be empty no doubt and he would just hole up in his room watching movies or cruising the internet. Molly, his three year old sister would drive him up the wall...no, even this hell was better than that hell.
Someone was knocking on the door to the cabin. "Justin? Are you in here?"
Pulling his shirt over his head, realizing it was Daphne, Justin responded, "One second." Walking over to the door he pushed the screen door open to let her in.
"I saw what happened back there in the cafeteria. Are you okay?"
"Sure, why wouldn't I be? It was nothing really. I’m okay."
"Are you sure?"
"I said I was fine!"
"Okay, well, I was just making sure. I know I’m a counselor here but you know, I’m 16 as well and I remember what it’s like to be 13. It’s tough."
Sitting down on his bed, sulking, "It sucks actually."
"Well then it hasn’t changed much at all." Smiling she punched him in the arm trying to loosen him up as well as the mood. "Hey, I’m actually going over to the studio to do some painting. Wanna come?"
"There’s a studio here? It wasn’t in the brochure, at least not that I saw."
"Yeah, it’s for the staff, sorry. You like to paint?"
"Yes, I do actually. I sketch as well. Wanna see some?" Justin asked excitedly as he retrieved his satchel. Pulling out the sketch book he motioned for Daphne to take a seat next to him so they could view the book.
"Wow Justin, these are really good. You have some real talent...much better than most actually."
"Thanks Daphne. I really love to draw. I guess it’s sort of like an..."
"Escape?" Daphne chimed in smiling.
"Yeah, an escape. Exactly."
"Have you ever thought about art school, I mean later after you graduate, Justin?"
"Oh no. My whole life is planned out for me. I’m going to business school and then I’ll go into business with my father. Is that what you’re going to do?"
"Yeah, at least I hope so. I really want to go to PIFA."
"That’s so cool. I wish I could go there- I’ve heard really good things about it."
As Daphne turned the pages, she caught sight of a drawing towards the back that looked familiar, "This one is amazing."
Noticing what sketch she was referring to Justin quickly took the book back from her, having forgotten all about that. It was a sketch he had drawn of Brian, pulling from memory, as they rode the bus to camp. Brian he sat with his head lying against the window, head phones on and eyes closed. "Uh, yeah. Well, can we go now?"
Not wanting to push Justin about the sketch or much else, Daphne was just glad that she found something to connect with Justin on. She watched him this past week, always alone and always with a blank stare upon his face. He was very different from the blue collar boys and girls spending their summers at Camp Westmont and she had gathered that his parents unloaded him up here because of problems in the marriage or a possible divorce. Whatever the case, the looming divorce wasn’t the only thing weighing on Justin. There was much more there and she thought she knew what it was.
Maybe it was the way Ben was drawn to him or maybe it was his frailty, his seeming sensitivity eeking out through the brick wall façade he carried. Maybe it was the sketch of Brian. She watched him with interest in his mandatory activities always doing only what was necessary...never exceeding the minimum. Daphne wasn’t his counselor but she could see a cry for help or a cry for acknowledgement...or even a cry for purpose, for what it really was.
They stayed in the studio painiting, talking and laughing until right before dinner. As they were cleaning up she asked Justin if he’d like to come back again and he gleefully accepted her invitation.
Before lights out, when all the boys were in the cabin talking, joking and getting ready for bed, Brian and Justin were doing their own thing. Brian was reading a book...he was always reading a book when he wasn’t playing soccer or flirting with Ben or Jason and Justin was getting ready to run to the showers. Gathering his things, Brian watched him as he walked out and heard Mark start in on the boy again. Feigning ignorance but definitely listening, he heard the boys laughing and plotting but didn't miss it when Mark and another boy went outside.
Fucking hell! As the other boys were still aughing and whispering, Brian called out, "Where are they going?"
Brad, one of Mark’s closest friends, smirked and told Brian, "Where do you think?"
Shaking his head and fearing the worst, Brian jumped down from his bunk and moved to the door. Brad blocked his way, telling him, "Stay out of it Kinney."
Kneeing Brad in the groin, Brian spat, "Fuck off!"running out the door to the showers. Once inside he heard Mark and the other boy taunting Justin.
"All alone in here aren’t you little boy?"
"Leave me alone!"
"Oh, we’ll leave you alone in a minute."
"What do you want? Just go away, I’ve not done anything to you!"
"You think you’re so special don’t you, rich boy?"
Brian took this time to make his presence known. "What’s going on here?"
"Leave it Kinney, this is none of your business!" Brad snapped and told his friend to keep Brian back.
"What did I tell you earlier Mark? Why don’t’ you just leave him alone?"
"What’s he your boyfriend or something? What’s the big deal?"
Brian rushed the other boy, knocking him down into Mark. While the two boys tried to get up, Brian grabbed Justin, pushing him down the hall. Mark came at Brian popping him in the cheek. Thus began the tussle.
Justin was supposed to run out, like Brian directed but he stood in fear watching. Brian threw Mark against the wall and they punched and kicked until they wore each other out. Finally calling a truce after the veiled threats of ass kicking til death, Mark’s friend gathered himself and Mark, limping out.
Justin rushed to Brian, taking in the gash on his cheek and the busted lip and knuckles. "Can you get up?"
"Of course I can get up, get offa me!" Brian snipped, pushing Justin off of him. Going to the sink and wetting a papertowel, Justin stood next to Brian at the basin. "That’s a nasty cut."
"I’ve had worse."
"Really? God, do you fight a lot?"
"Yeah. Mikey always seems to piss people off and I always seem to piss my old man off too."
"Who’s Mikey?”
“My best friend, he’s at a Camp about 20 miles from here. He’s Debbie’s son."
"Why isn’t he here with you?"
“He’s at Camp Pocono Trails. Better known as Fat Camp."
Laughing, "Fat Camp?"
Not laughing,"Yeah, and?"
"Nothing. It’s just funny is all."
"I don’t think it’s funny at all so shut up, alright?"
"Yeah, sorry."
Justin dabbed the paper towel to Brian’s cheek, wiping the blood away. His burst lip was still bleeding so Justin got another paper towel to dab that as well. "You need some peroxide on this," Justin whispered as he carefully rubbed the towel across Brian’s lips.
Noticing Brian’s right hand and swollen knuckles, Justin reached down and took his hand in his. "It’ll be sore tomorrow...we should get you some ice."
Is he actually flirting with me? "Maybe," Brian replied, lifting his eyes to Justin’s as he felt the boy’s hand massaging his injured one. With his other hand, Justin reached up and wiped a splatch of blood from Brian’s eyebrow with his thumb. Once the blood disappeared, he continued to rub the brow, feeling the soft hair under his finger, watching how those hazel eyes bore into him. He is definitely flirting with me.
Suddenly Justin was spun around, with his back to the sink basin and Brian bore into him. Both hands on either side of the boy, Justin was trapped. Brian loomed over him, his eyes watching and waiting. "Did you like it?"
"What? What are you talking about?"
"You know what I’m talking about. In here...when you saw me. Did you like watching me?"
"You’re crazy. I’m not like that."
"Sure you’re not. Whatever you say," Brian rasped as he moved his hand to grasp Justin’s crotch, massaging the bulge under his cargo shorts, leaning his face down to graze the boy’s lips with his own. Hot breathe against his face, Justin’s mouth naturally went slack, opening. He felt the hot tongue slide across his lips, his teeth and over his own tongue.
Pushing Brian away,"Stop."
"You sure? That’s not the message I’m getting," Brian whispered, pulling back but continuing to rub circles over Justin’s now hard penis through the fabric.
Justin's eyes closed in pain. Pain from the realization that he did like it and Brian. He did like watching him and he most certainly liked the feeling he was having from Brian's hand, his lips...his tongue. This all pained him very much. "Please."
Dropping his hands away from Justin, "Fine." Frowning, he exhaled the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Rolling his eyes, Brian pushed off returning to the sink. In the mirror he caught Justin’s reflection bearing into him.
Flushed but trying to calm himself, Justin turned asking, "Are you?"
"Am I what?"
"You know, are you a homo?"
Facing him, Brian leaned against the sink, arms crossed against his chest. "I think you know the answer to that question but yes, I’m queer. Though, what you should be asking is, are you?"
As Brian turned and walked out of the shower house, Justin heard the night's Taps call signaling lights out.
After that incident in the showers, Justin avoided Brian like the plague. Even at 13 he was old enough to understand ‘guilt by association’ or in this case, ‘fag by association’ and stayed clear of Brian. Though there were times were Brian would magically appear if Mark or any of the other boys started any shit but for the most part, Brian went his way and Justin went the total opposite. But, even though they steered clear, they both watched.