A Different Road
Chapter 7
The meeting with Coach Davis was emotional. I’d already been wracked with emotion
dealing with Brett, now I’d told the coach I would be back to practice on Monday. Well,
not actually told him. He told me to be there and he wasn’t asking. I knew if I didn’t
show up, he’d make the rest of the school year hell for me.

I loved running track in the spring. I’m sure he’d tell Mrs. Simmons, our track coach,
not to let me run. It was one sport that Brett and I didn’t participate in together. He
preferred baseball to track, so we usually  didn’t see much of each other during the
spring. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the spring. It was only the end of September, and we
had a whole year to go before we’d graduate.

Something else that was bothering me was that Brett’s 18th birthday was in a few
weeks. We had spent each other’s birthdays together for as long as I could
remember. It was going to be hard not sharing this one, especially since it was a
special one. Mine wouldn’t be until March, so he had a long time to think about it.

                                             * * * * * * * *  

“Open your present, Dirtwad.” Brett was hovering over me, anxious for me to open
my present. I’d just turned ten and we had spent the night at my house celebrating
with ice cream and cake. Afterwards, we went over to his house and his mother and
father took us out for ice cream. Both of us were on a sugar high.

He had handed me a small box crudely wrapped in last week’s Sunday comic section
of the newspaper. He’d used masking tape instead of scotch tape. It looked awful, but
I was happy because he’d gone to the trouble of doing it himself.

“What is it?” I held it up to my ear and shook it.

“Would you just open it.” He was becoming frustrated. I tore open the wrapping and
looked at the flat red box I was holding.

“Hurry up. Open it!” he screamed excitedly. I carefully opened the box and looked
inside.

“You didn’t!” I got up and jumped around the room. “Where did you find this!”

“My dad took me to a sports trading show last week.” His face was beaming with
pride. “It took all my allowance for the next four months.”

I carefully took out the Michael Jordan trading card. It was a 1986 Fleer rookie card.
They were hard to find and I had wanted one for several years. It must have cost him
over $100. I grabbed him and we danced around the room.

“You must have spent a fortune on this!” I screamed, examining it again. I don’t think
I’d ever been so happy in my life.

“Yeah, well. Duh.” He stood smiling at me.

“You’re the best friend anyone could ever have.” I pulled him into another hug. “You
shouldn’t have spent so much on this, though.”

“Rule Number 44.” He pretended to read his palm. “Money doesn’t matter when it
makes your friend happy.” He looked over at me and laughed. “Just remember that
when my next birthday comes.”

“Anything you want Brett.” I gave him another big hug. “Anything.”

For his birthday, I had to do extra chores around the house for six months. He
wanted a ten-speed bike.

                                               * * * * * * * *  

I finally made it to third period with about 15 minutes left of class. Brett watched me
enter and let his eyes follow me to my seat. When I sat down and glanced over at
him, he smiled slightly. I turned my head away.

I was able to catch up on the assignment from a girl who sat next to me. When the
bell rang, I quickly headed for the door to avoid Brett. I rushed past him as he turned
to speak. Adrian was waiting for me when I entered 4th period. He was sitting in the
front row and he had placed his book bag in the seat beside him so no one else would
sit there.

“Hey.” He had a huge smile on his face. “I saved you a seat.” He removed the bag for
me to sit down.

“You look happy,” I said smilingly. His face began to redden and he quickly looked
away.

“Sorry,” I apologized. Just then the teacher entered and the room quieted down.
After receiving our assignment, we were again free to talk.

“Can you help me with this problem?” Adrian asked. He was chewing the eraser off his
pencil.

“Yeah,” I said, scooting my chair closer to his. Our legs were pressed against each
other. We sat working on the problem when he began to rub his leg against mine. At
first I thought it was just an innocent movement, but then he began to do it more
forcefully. I looked over at him and he shyly smiled.

I then began to rub my leg more forcefully against his. As I did so, I could feel my
cock start to harden. I had never gotten hard over another boy before. I had never
thought of having sex with another boy but Brett, and now my heart was beginning
to pound as I felt Adrian’s leg rubbing mine.

I moved slightly in my seat and lowered my hand to adjust my growing cock. It was
pressing uncomfortably against my jeans. Adrian giggled as he watched me, and then
he did the same. I looked down and saw his cock protruding nicely through his jeans.
When I looked up, his eyes met mine and he blushed.

“If we don’t stop,” I whispered in his ear, “we’ll never be able to stand up when the
bell rings.” He laughed and pulled his leg away.

“I know,” he whispered in my ear. I looked at him and he was blushing brightly.
“Sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” I said boldly as I let my eyes drop to his bulging
cock. His face reddened even deeper. We continued working on the calculus problems,
but we kept a safe distance from each other. Occasionally, I’d look down, but his
erection had softened and his pants were no longer bulging.

When the bell rang, we stood and Adrian stretched with his hands above his head.    
I looked down and saw a wet patch in the front of his pants where he had been
leaking precum.

“Uh, Dude.” I laughed as I looked at the wet spot. He looked down, saw it and
gasped. He quickly covered himself with his book bag. I had sat back down in my desk
and laughed hysterically. He blushed and headed for the door. I ran out and quickly
caught up with him.

“Hey, Fellow,” I laughed as I walked beside him. “Is that a pistol in your pocket or are
you glad to see me?” I was trying to do an impression of some woman that I’d heard
my dad joke about one time.

“Shut up,” he replied. “It’s not funny.” I threw my arm around him and laughed.

“Dude,” I said. “It is totally funny.” We walked down the hall with my arm still around
him. When we came to the boys’ restroom we headed inside.

“Wait here,” he ordered as he walked into one of the stalls. “I gotta clean this mess
off.”

“I can help,” I volunteered. I couldn’t believe how bold I felt around Adrian. It was
obvious that we had both been turned on by our leg rubbing, and for the first time I
was having sexual feelings for someone else.

“You’ve done enough,” he replied sharply. I heard him unzip his pants and pull some
toilet paper off the roller. Out of curiosity, I stood on my tiptoes, peeked over the top
of the stall and watched Adrian wipe his cock clean. It was still semi-hard and hung
about four inches. He looked up and saw me.

“Corey!” He screamed. I fell against the wall and started laughing. Minutes later, he
exited with a red face. He threw me an angry look and walked quickly out of the
restroom. I tried to catch up with him, but he ran out the side door. By the time I got
to the parking lot, he was already driving away.

“Where’s Adrian?” Charlie asked as she sat down beside me. It was lunchtime, and I
was lying outside under a shade tree.

“I dunno,” I said. “He took off a little while ago.”

“Why?” She opened one of my eyelids and stared into my face.

“I think I embarrassed him,” I replied sadly. I told her about how we had played
around in class and both of us got an erection. Then I told her how he had spotted
his pants and then went into the restroom stall to clean up. I was embarrassed when
I told her how I’d peeked over the stall to get a look at his cock.

“Damn, Corey,” she said angrily. “You can’t do shit like that with Adrian. He’s
extremely shy. I’ve been amazed how open he’s been with you. I’ve never seen him
like that with anyone else.”

“What do you mean?” I sat up. I was confused by Adrian’s action in the restroom.  
I hadn’t meant anything by it.

“You know his dad, right?” I nodded my head. “He’s been so freaking hard on him,
you wouldn’t believe.”

“I know,” I said. “I got a dose of it the other night.”

“Yeah,” she said. “He told me. Anyway, Adrian’s scared shitless of him. His father is
always telling him he’s going to Hell, and the poor kid hasn’t done anything.”

“Does his father know he’s gay?” It was obvious after last period that Adrian probably
was.

“Corey,” Charlie said sadly. “Adrian won‘t even admit it to himself he‘s gay. I tried to
tell him a few years ago when he started asking questions about sex. He said he
couldn’t be gay because he’d go to Hell.”

“But what about last period?” I asked. “He got hard rubbing my leg. He even seemed
to be enjoying it.”

“I don’t know.” She sounded worried. “I’m not a psychiatrist, but I’d say you probably
opened some doors he has probably been keeping locked for a long time.”

“I still don’t understand why he ran away,” I said. “He could have just told me to
stop.”

“He probably panicked. When you saw his cock, he probably freaked, thinking you
both were going to Hell or something.”

“So what do I do?” I asked. “I really like him. I don’t want to lose his friendship, now
that we are just starting to get to know each other.”

“Let me talk to him,” she replied. “I’ll try and see what’s going on inside his head.”

“Tell him I’m sorry,” I said sadly. “I didn’t mean to embarrass him. Tell him I just want
to be friends. I’m not even looking for a boyfriend.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow and stared at me. “Yeah, right,” she said knowingly.

The bell rang and I headed to chemistry class. It was one class I shared with Brett in
which Cindy didn’t attend. So far, I’d been able to avoid him. However, today he was
sitting at my lab table. I looked for Sheila but she was sitting with stoned out Jason.
She gave me a sad look when I walked into the room.

The bell rang and I looked around the room for another chair. Unfortunately, the only
one available was the one beside Brett. The teacher told us to take a seat, so I had
no choice but to walk over and sit down. Brett looked over and smiled. I dug in my
book bag looking for my chemistry book and ignored him.

“Aren’t you even going to speak?”

“Nope,” I replied sharply.

“Corey,” he muttered sadly.

“Drop it, Brett,” I insisted. “Please. If we have to work together, then fine. But please
don’t try to talk to me. There’s nothing more to say.”

“Fine.” He sounded upset. “If that’s the way you want it, Corey.” He opened his book
and pretended to be reading. I almost started laughing when I noticed he was holding
the book upside down.

The next forty-five minutes were awkward. We had to work together mixing chemicals
and writing out equations. It was a team effort, so we had no choice but to talk to
each other about the problems on the assignment sheet. I was happy when the
teacher finally told us only five minutes remained and to start cleaning up.

“Someone told me you quit the team,” he finally spoke as we were putting things
away.

“Nope,” I said. “I didn’t.” He looked over at me with a puzzled look. I guess Coach
Davis hadn’t talked to him yet. Just then the bell rang.

“Good,” he said as he walked past me and patted me on my back. I watched him walk
out the door.

                                                 * * * * * * * *

“What are your name boys?” Coach Davis was shouting at us. It was our first day of
practice our freshman year. Coach Bob, as he liked to be called, was the freshman
coach, but Coach Davis had come onto the field to watch us practice. I guess he was
looking over his prospects for the following year.

“Corey Singer, Sir!” I shouted back. I don’t know why, but Brett and I were standing
at attention like new army recruits. We’d already heard about Coach   Davis’s
reputation, and I don’t know about Brett, but I was having trouble keeping my legs
from shaking.

“Brett Weaver, Sir!” Brett shouted back.

It was hot as hell outside. Our first practice began in July, weeks before school was to
start. Coach Bob wanted to get a head start on the other schools and have us
conditioned when the season started. Sweat was dripping profusely off my forehead.
Brett and I had removed our jerseys and we were now standing half naked in front of
the coach.

“I’ve been watching you boys,” he said. “You played in junior high together?”

“Yes, Sir,” we said in unison.

“Where?”

“Gorman, Sir,” answered Brett sharply.

“Gorman?” Coach said admiringly. “You boys won the championship last year,  didn’t
you?”

“Yes, Sir,” responded Brett.

“That’s right.” He suddenly recalled. “Weaver, you were quarterback. And you, Singer,
were the wide receiver. Am I right?”

“Yes, Sir,” I replied.

“Coach Bob.” He turned to our freshman coach and called him over. “I want these
boys to try out for varsity next week. I want to see what they really have.” He turned
abruptly and walked away.

Coach Bob stood staring at us. “Do you boys realize that Coach Davis hasn’t had a
freshman on his varsity team in about six years? Congratulations.” He reached out
and shook our hands. Brett and I slapped hands and then began to wrestle on the
ground, while the coach and our teammates cheered us on. We had to stop when the
team manager threw a cold bucket of water on us. Everyone laughed uproariously at
us while we stood shivering in the hot summer sun.

We did try out the following week. We waited anxiously for a week until Coach Davis
posted the varsity team. We had made it! Brett was designated as second string
quarterback. I was second string wide receiver. We didn’t get a lot of playing time our
freshman year, but the early experience prepared us our sophomore year when we
both started.

We won the city championship that year, but we were blown out in the district finals.
Our junior year, we won the regional championship, but lost in the state competition.
The quarterback of the winning state championship team graduated last year, so we
were heavily favored to win the state this year.

                                               * * * * * * * *

When I drove home after school, I was surprised to see my mother’s car in the
driveway. She still had some of her clothes at the house, so I figured she had come
back to get them. I was shocked when I walked in the door to find her and Reverend
Baker sitting in the living room. They stopped talking, and Reverend Baker rose from
his chair and approached me.

“What do you want?” I asked angrily. Reverend Baker neared me and put his hand on
my forehead.

“Get on your knees, Corey!” he shouted. “Tell the Lord you are a sinner and ask for
his forgiveness.”

“Get your fucking hands off me!” I shouted back, removing his hand from my head
and stepping back.

“Corey!” My mother rose from her seat. “Listen to Reverend Baker. He’s only here to
help you.”

“I don’t need his help, Mother!” I shouted back at her.

“Oh, Heavenly Father,” prayed Reverend Baker. “Show this boy the way to eternal
salvation.” They both approached me and began laying their hands on me as they
continued to pray. I tried to pull away, but the reverend was tightly gripping my arm.

“Confess your sins, Corey,” he ordered. “Give up this perversion that has taken over
your soul.” I continued to wrestle away from them, but he had a tight grip on me. My
mother was holding my other arm.

“Corey, please,” she begged. “You can’t be one of them. How will I explain it to our
friends?”

“That’s all you care about, isn’t it?” I pushed her hand away and finally wrestled
myself from their grip. “Your poor fucking image. You don’t give a shit about me. All
you worry about is what your goddamned society friends will say behind your back.”

SMACK!

I held the side of my face from the slap she had given me. We both stood looking
angrily at one another.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you pervert!” She spat. “You’re a disgrace.” She
reached out to slap me again, but this time I saw it coming and grabbed her hand.

Suddenly, I felt a sharp blow to my side when Reverend Baker hit me. I leaned over
and tried to catch my breath.

Just then the front door opened and my father came barging in.

“What in the hell is going on in here?” He rushed over to me and stood between me
and Reverend Baker.

“I’m trying to save your perverted son and make him right with God again!” Reverend
Baker screamed.

“You’re going to see your God soon enough,” my father shouted, “If you  don’t get
your goddamned ass out of my house. You too, Sheila. Get the fuck out!”

My father approached Reverend Baker, grabbed his arm and led him to the door.

“Get out!” he screamed. “Both of you. Sheila, if you ever come back in here again, I’ll
have you arrested.”

“Oh God.” Reverend Baker raised his hands to the sky. “Please forgive them for they
know not what they are doing.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing!” My father shouted as he pushed them out the front
door. “Throwing out the trash!” He slammed the door shut.

He turned, walked over to me and wrapped me in his arms.

“You all right Son?” I nodded my head. I was still too shaken to speak. My own
mother had slapped me and Reverend Baker had hit me in the side.

Just then the phone began ringing. I walked over and picked it up, expecting it to be
my mother calling with some final words.

“Corey.” It was Charlie. She sounded frantic. “I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.
Something has happened to Adrian.”


Chapter 8                                   Return to TMJ