Jordan

The first time I heard the word "fag," I was in the fourth grade. Sophie Georgio was my number one bully. She sat behind me on the bus and we'd had the same teacher since kindergarten. She always picked on me. One time, while sitting behind me, she whispered, "Your parents hate you. They never wanted you. Everyone knows your mom is crazy. I hope she kills herself." And she didn't stop there. "No one likes you," she went on and on. "You have no friends. I hope you kill yourself." She made me so mad and upset, I refused to get off the bus. The big fat principal called Mom so she showed up, her hair newly dyed bright pink on one side, turquoise on the other side. Her pink lipstick was smudged around her lips, her dyed hair sticking up everywhere. I couldn't have been more embarrassed. There was no way I was getting off the bus for her. After several minutes of her attempting to persuade me to get off the bus, she called Tim. If Tim couldn't get me off the bus, then they'd call the police. I knew the drill. When Tim showed up, he wasn't as patient as everyone else. He picked me up and hung me over his shoulder while I kicked and screamed like a toddler having a temper tantrum when I was actually ten years old.

The teachers didn't believe me when I told them that Sophie said all those things to me. She was considered a "nice girl" while I was considered the boy "with issues." Mom and Tim believed me, though. Still, that didn't make me feel any better.

Of all the memories to remember, why that one? I hated that memory. Because I wouldn't get off the bus, kids stared and laughed at me. They laughed at Mom, too. I bet teachers even laughed at her. Why did I have to re-live that horrible memory right now when I was so happy a few minutes ago? Why couldn't I re-live a good memory like my first kiss? I loved that day, out in the rain, singing to Jamie. That was perhaps the best moment of my life, up until then, anyway.

Lying beside me, his arm draped over my lap, Jamie dozed off. I didn't want him to sleep. I couldn't sleep, so why should he? Besides, it was only 9:30.

Jamie lay on his stomach, hugging the pillows like he usually did. My fingers trailed up his sides and under his arms. He stirred, laughing a little, slowly waking up as my fingers played with his arm hair. I liked touching him there.

"Jordan" he said quietly.

"Jamie," I said.

Pressing my hands under his arms, I kissed the back of his shoulder, getting on top of him.

"No," I said as he went to bring his arms down.

"You're so gay," he said as I kept my hands under his arms, kissing his shoulder blade as I grinded against him, moving my lips to his neck. "So, so gay," he said as my lips inched down the middle of his back, all the way down to his tailbone. I wasn't exactly sure what he meant by "so, so gay," but I didn't ask, either. I was too busy thinking about other things.

"Do you want to top me?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at me. I shrugged, kissing him well below his tailbone. He liked it when I did that.

Maybe, I thought.

"I want you to," he said. "I really want you to." He reached for the tube on the nightstand and handed it to me. But I wasn't so sure I wanted to do it like this so I got off him. "Hey," he said, rolling over. Sprawled out on his back, he placed his hands behind his head. "Why'd you stop?" he asked.

"I want to look at you," I said, kneeling between his legs at the foot of the bed. "Are you ticklish?" I asked, picking up his foot. He didn't seem to be ticklish under his arms.

"You'll have to find out," he said.

"You're flirting with me," I said, tracing the bottom of his foot with my fingers. His foot jerked a little, so I knew he was ticklish. "Did you ever have a bully?" I asked, massaging his foot. I had never massaged a foot before. I seemed to be doing okay. I mean, he seemed to like it.

"Why are you asking me this right now?"

"Sophie Georgio told lies about me. She called me a fag even before I knew what the word meant. I guess she was right, but who knew back then, right? I was only nine or ten when she said it. She was such a bitch." Leaning forward, Jamie looked into my eyes.

"That was a long time ago," he said. "I know those things are hard to forget. For me...well...there was Robin Hathaway in elementary school. She was the worst. There was George Haffner in middle school. God, what an ass hole. He was a real shit to Tim, too. I used to cry a lot. I still do, as you know, so kids were pretty mean to me. I try to forget about those days. You should try to forget about too, okay? Think about something else." He kissed my mouth before lying back down. "I am ticklish, but I like what you're doing to my foot."

As I kissed the bottom of his foot, he sighed deeply so I knew he liked it. With my lips on his foot, my hand slid up his calf and up his thigh. I did the same with his other foot and leg. He really liked my finger up there with that stuff on it. He lathered my erection himself while I pushed a finger in him, then another. Holding one of his ankles, I bit down on my bottom lip as I made my way inside him. He gripped the sheets, biting down on his own bottom lip.

"Oh fuck," he muttered quietly.

"Are you okay? Am I doing it right?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah, it's perfect," he said. "Perfect." He leaned forward again and kissed me hard on my mouth, bringing his legs around my waist. He made all kinds of sounds I had never heard him make before. He kissed me long and hard as I pushed and thrusted, harder and harder. As we hugged, he clawed my back, moaning against my neck.

"Does it feel okay?" I asked. "Because you feel really good."

"You feel really good, too," he said. Just at the right time, he kissed me as my body jerked into his. "It's alright," he said in-between kisses as my bottom lip quivered. He cried out against my neck, his body reacting the same way as mine. "I love you," he said against my neck. "I don't ever want to let you go."

"Then don't," I said. "I won't let you go if you don't let me go." Nodding, he kissed me while holding my face.

We took advantage of the empty house, staying up late, making lots of noise. I even stopped Jamie from falling asleep a few times. In the end I crashed first, falling asleep, using his back as a pillow. I drifted off into a dream-less yet peaceful sleep.
***

The heat and humidity returned and I was anxious to go swimming, but Jamie wanted to have breakfast first.

"That shirt doesn't even cover your ass," he said as I stood in the kitchen in my Patti Smith shirt while Jamie made omelets. I playfully lifted my shirt up to my waist. "What if the maid or someone else comes in and sees you bare-assed in the kitchen?"

"Stop being boring," I said. I took off my shirt and threw it at him. With my back against the counter, I leaned against it, watching Jamie cook.

"You're something else," he laughed. "I'm not being boring. You know, maybe I should tell Tim his brother's a nudist."

"Shut up," I said. "Take your shorts off. Come on, just do it. I want to see you cook naked."

"No," he said. "I'm not cooking naked. That's just weird." I didn't like his answer so I tugged his shorts all the way down to his ankles. "Fuck you," he laughed, nevertheless stepping out of them. "Happy now?" I ran my hand down his back and over his bare ass. "Don't touch me," he said. Knowing he was teasing, I pinched one butt cheek in response. "Stop," he laughed. "Hey, do you still want to go hiking or what?"

"I want to go swimming," I said. "Maybe after we go swimming?"

"Okay," he said as I stroked his back. "You know you drive me crazy."

Like we did so many mornings, we ate breakfast out on the porch, leaving my shirt and his shorts on the kitchen floor.

"You're going to miss this," I said, stretching my legs out on his lap.

"Yes," he said. "I've eaten breakfast naked before, but never outside, usually in bed and under the covers." Removing my legs from his lap, I decided to straddle him instead. "What are you doing? You're going to feed me now?" He held my waist as I fed him a couple of bites of omelet.

"Jordan..." he said, his voice low and quiet as my body rubbed against his. "I can't. You're going to kill me."

"How am I going to kill you?" I said. "It doesn't look like I'm killing you. It looks like you like it."

"You're too much," he said. As I was just about to kiss him, I jumped off his lap.

"What are you doing?" he asked as I backed away. "Come here." But I continued to back away. "Jordan, come here."

Spinning around, I ran off the deck and straight to the pool. I felt like I hadn't been swimming in forever and I needed some cooling off. Jamie ran after me, but I was already in the water by the time he caught up to me. He jumped in and immediately dunked me under the water. When I bobbed back up, I did the same to him. We took turns doing this for a few minutes until Jamie slammed me against the side of the pool.

"Ow," I said although it really didn't hurt. "Have you had enough of me?" I said as he held my shoulders, both of us out of breath.

"I'll never have enough of you," he said and kissed me. Bringing my arms around him, I returned his kiss. I wasn't expecting Jamie to suddenly dunk me under again. By the time I reached the surface, he had swum away from me and was on the opposite side of the pool. As Jamie went to swim back to me, a shadow cast over the pool deck, but when I looked over my shoulder no one was there. Weird, I thought.

"Did you see that?" I asked Jamie.

"Did I see what?"

"I think Tim's home," I said, getting out of the pool.

"Isn't he at work?"

"He's supposed to be," I said, wrapping a towel around my waist.

Leaving Jamie in the pool, I returned to the house. There was definitely a funny feeling in the air. I looked out the front window to see if Tim's car was in the driveway. It wasn't there. I stood in the kitchen, convinced something strange was going on.

"Hey," Jamie said, appearing in the kitchen doorway, a towel tied tightly around his waist. He was definitely nice to look at and distracted me for a second. "Everything okay?"

"I think someone's in the house," I whispered in case there really was a burglar or someone like that in the house.

"I think you're imagining things," he said. "I didn't see anything. I think you're..." Jamie was abruptly cut off.

"Hey, Jordie, is that you?" A voice called down the hall, a familiar voice I hadn't heard in awhile. My body immediately tensed and I felt sick to my stomach. He'd ruin everything. I just knew it.

A/N

Sophie is based on a real fourth grader who said these things to another fourth grader.