Mark's Revenge
by and © Ronyx
Chapter 3
I awoke the next morning in a spare bedroom at Aunt Janice's house. I vaguely remember her leading me into the house and helping me to bed. I was exhausted. The events of the day had finally caught up to me. I nestled myself further into the bed.
I lay there for several minutes and then the aroma of breakfast swept over me. Aunt Janice is a great cook. She doesn't have company often, so when she does she goes all out to provide a delicious meal. I crawled lazily out of bed and put on my clothes that I had been wearing the day before. My face reddened remembering that my aunt had helped me out of my clothes the night before.
When I walked into the kitchen, I came to an abrupt stop. My mother was sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee. I started to turn around, but Aunt Janice motioned for me to come and sit down beside her. My mother turned around and gave me a hesitant smile.
"There's my favorite nephew," my aunt said jokingly.
"I'm your only nephew," I said with a smile.
I quickly looked over at my mother and saw her studying me. I wondered what was going on in her mind. She got up, went to the refrigerator, and poured me a glass of milk. She put it down in front of me and then returned to her chair. She still hadn't said anything to me.
"Mark's going to help me in the garden today. Aren't you?" She looked over at me and raised an eyebrow. I could tell she was trying to break the silence.
"Yeah, sure. I'd be happy to," I told her.
"Mark's going home with me," my mother stated firmly.
"I think I'd rather stay here." I looked over at Aunt Janice for her approval. She shrugged her shoulders.
"You're going home with me. That's where you belong." She stared me in the eyes. This is the first time she had looked at me since she talked to Mr. Olsteen.
"I don't think so," I said timidly.
"And why not?" she asked.
"Because I'm gay and you hate me." I felt the tears begin to well up in my eyes.
"Oh, Baby." She held out her arms and I rushed into them. We both held each other and cried. I realized that my mother didn't hate me. I guess Aunt Janice was right when she said she just needed time. I looked over at my aunt and saw her wiping tears away. I walked over and hugged her.
"Thank you," I whispered in her ear. She squeezed me tighter.
We spent the next hour eating one of Aunt Janice's delicious meals. She had prepared western omelets, home fries, grits and strawberry pancakes with maple syrup. When I finished eating, I could hardly move. I was given the chore of cleaning the table and putting the dishes in the dishwasher. My mother and Aunt Janice went outside and sat on the porch swing. I could hear them talking.
"You know Mark's a great son," remarked Aunt Janice.
"I know," my mother sighed. "But I just want him to be happy. There's so much stigma in our society towards gay people. You of all people should know that."
"But that was years ago." My aunt tried to reassure my mother. "Things have changed. People's attitudes have changed. Gay kids today have it much better than I did at their age."
"Mark is what he is. You can't change that," continued Aunt Janice. "You have to accept him and show him you still love him. If you don't, you are going to lose him. Remember, I ran away from home when I was seventeen because Daddy couldn't accept a lesbian daughter."
I was stunned. This was the first time I had been aware of any of this. I didn't even know until yesterday that Aunt Janice was like me. I was always told she was just an Old Maid.
"He can stay with me if you have a problem with it. I don't want to see him hurt," she told my mother. I wiped away tears that were beginning to fall down my cheeks.
"You know I love him. I'm just afraid of what the future may hold for him." I could hear here sniffling, so I knew she was crying as well.
"He's a strong boy. I'm sure he can face anything that comes his way. That is, if he knows he has his mother's love to help him." I looked out the window and saw my mother and aunt embracing one another.
Overcome with emotion, I walked out onto the porch and sat between them on the swing. They both threw their arms around me and held me tightly. I knew then that I was going to be all right.
We spent the rest of the morning working in Aunt Janice's flower garden. I was shown how to use pruning shears and I enjoyed myself. Gardening is a very relaxing activity. I was doing well until I got to the rose bushes. I pricked my fingers several times on the thorns. My aunt threatened to wash my mouth out with soap if I didn't stop cussing every time I was pricked.
We stopped around noon and my aunt prepared another fabulous meal. I wasn't really fond of corned beef, but her reuben sandwiches are delicious. She served them with pickles a neighbor had given her last fall. After another rest on the back porch, we walked down the street to get some ice cream. For once, I didn't care if I felt like a child again. I walked in the middle and held both their hands. It was a great day.
We left my aunt's house around 4:00. I gave her a hug and squeezed her tightly. I didn't have to tell her I loved her because she already knew. She told me that anytime I needed to talk, she would be available. I assured her I would.
We drove home in silence. It didn't bother me because I felt comfortable with my mother. The truth was out and I didn't have anything to hide anymore. For the first time in a couple of years, I felt a calmness surrounding me. I had never had a problem being gay, but I constantly worried how my mom would react if she ever found out. She now knew and she had accepted me. What's even crazier, I discovered I had an aunt that was just like me!
When I walked in the house, Amy was in the living room watching television. She looked up and sneered when she saw me. She was getting ready to say something, but Mom walked in behind me. I gave her a smug smile. I was happy that I was no longer at the mercy of my blackmailing sister. If only there was some way I could get even with her. I'd love to give her a taste of her own medicine.
The next week went by as usual. I was busy mowing yards for my regular customers. During the summer, I did about 20 lawns. Of course, I figured I'd lost one- Mr. Olsteen's. I rode my bike by his house last week and saw Scott working in the yard. He stood and watched me ride my bike past. I thought he was going to say something, but he didn't. He looked like he expected me to ride up and talk to him. Fat chance that will ever happen again. I don't care how cute he is.
On the following Wednesday, I got a really upsetting call. An acquaintance at school, Richard Randolph, called me up that morning. I have known him in school since about the third grade. He lives in the same neighborhood as me, but we've never hung out. No one else was home when I answered the phone.
"Hello?" I asked. I looked at the caller ID and didn't recognize the number. Not many people call me, so I figured it was someone wanting my mother.
"Is this Mark?" The strange voice asked.
"Yes. Who's this?" I was curious since no one had my number.
"This is Richard Randolph. You know me?" I hesitated before I answered. Richard was a cute guy. He was quiet in class, but I'd seen him at the mall and at the pool with his friends and he liked to clown around a lot. I was confused why he was calling me.
"Hi, Richard. Yeah, I know who you are. What do you want?" I asked.
"Yeah, well, um. Um. I was talking to Scott the other day." My heart jumped into my mouth. I knew what he wanted. Scott had told him I was a fag. "I was kinda wondering if you'd like to come over to my house for a while?"
Shit. Word was getting out that I was a cocksucker. He probably wanted me to go over to his house and give him a blowjob.
"What do you want, Richard?" I said rather angrily.
"Well, Mark. Um. I'm. Um. Sitting here at my computer looking at some porn and I've got a really. Um. Hard boner. Scott told me. Um. That. Um. You. Um. Like to suck cock. Um. I thought you might come over. Um. And like help me out." He was stammering out his words nervously. I could also hear someone giggling in the background. I was pretty sure it was Scott.
"Put your head between your legs and suck your own cock, Mother Fucker!" I slammed the phone down. I was shaking with anger.
Shit. I was now the neighborhood fag. Scott must be going around telling everyone that I offered to suck his dick. Now all the horny teens within a ten-mile radius would be thinking I'd be willing to do the same to them. Shit. Shit. Shit.
I may be gay, but after this incident, I didn't think I was going pursue anything right now. I am only fifteen. I can surely wait. I'd never really thought about actually having sex. I daydreamed about it a lot, and I jacked off thinking about it, but it was nothing I was actively looking for. Scott had taken me by surprise. He was extremely cute and had a nice dick. In a moment of weakness, I accepted. What normal gay boy wouldn't have been charmed by someone as cute as him? I should have been more careful.
I thought about it for weeks. I still can't figure out why he did what he did. All morning he seemed to be coming on to me. I should have known that a hot guy like him would never be interested in someone like me. He played me along until I took the bait. I really thought he was gay. He still might be. His uncle told me to stay away from him because he had a lot of problems. Maybe that was one of them. However, if he is gay, why did he turn on me? It just didn't make any sense.
Now he was going around the neighborhood telling everyone. I knew it would do no good to talk to him. That would probably make matters worse. I just hoped that this would all go away at the end of the summer when he goes back home- wherever that is. He never did tell me why he was staying with his aunt and uncle in the first place. All he said was that he was from Arizona and attended a boarding school there. Something must be going on at home for his parents to get rid of him all summer.
However, I was worried about Richard's phone call. We were in the same grade at school. I have three more years to go. If word gets around I'm gay, the next few years could be hell. At least I didn't have to worry about losing any friends over this because I don't have many to begin with.
Another week went by before anything else happened. I was on my way to work in the Stevenson's yard. I had to ride my bike past the Olsteen's again. When I was about a half block from their house, I saw Scott shooting a basketball in the driveway. He turned and saw me coming. I watched as he went into the garage. I thought he was going in to avoid seeing me.
When I got closer, I noticed him standing beside the garage wall out of sight except for me. When I started to pass his house, he dropped his shorts, pulled out his erect cock, and began stroking it. He looked at me and smiled. Then he pointed to his cock, inviting me to it. I looked away and began pedaling rapidly down the street. When I was a safe distance away, I turned and looked back. He was standing in the driveway watching me ride away. He had a disappointed look on his face.
I don't know a lot about psychology, but I think he has some problems. I figure that he must be some disturbed kid. One minute he gets mad at me because I want to suck his cock. Now he gets upset because I won't. One thing I'm sure of though. I'm going to stay the hell away from him. He may be about one of the cutest guys I've ever seen, but he's crazy!
After mowing the Stevenson's yard, I had to pass by Scott's again. He was standing out front with Bobby again. They appeared to be arguing and Bobby was crying. Scott pushed him and he fell to the ground. I was going to stop and help him out, but I didn't want to get involved. Whatever argument they were having wasn't really any of my business. It's just that Bobby is so much smaller than Scott. It wasn't a fair fight.
I pedaled a little slower as I went by, hoping to hear what they were arguing about. I heard Scott yell 'fag' and 'cocksucker' a couple of times. I really felt sorry for Bobby. He was curled up in a ball and crying. He looked so small on the ground. I think he thought Scott was going to hit him. Perhaps he has in the past. I don't know what's going on with them.
Bobby is such a small, skinny kid. He keeps to himself and never socializes with anyone. I don't know how he got involved with Scott. One thing I was sure of, he was treating him the same way he had treated me. When I passed by, Scott looked over and gave me smug look. It was like he was almost daring me to do something.
I rode on and stopped at the corner. I looked back and saw Bobby slowly get to his feet. Scott pushed him again, this time into the bushes. He then walked into the house as Bobby brushed himself off and headed my way. I biked a little further up the street so I would be out of view of Scott's house. I waited for Bobby to come walking by.
He approached and I could tell he was still crying. He was wiping tears away on the sleeve of his white shirt. He looked so lost. I wanted to start crying myself just looking at him. He saw me sitting on my bike and started to cross the street.
"Bobby. Wait up." I got off the bike and walked it over to him.
"What do you want, Mark?" he asked tearfully. "You want me to suck your dick, too?"
"No," I replied sadly. "I just thought you looked like you needed a friend."
"I don't have any friends," he said as he continued walking down the sidewalk.
"What happened between you and Scott?" I asked. He turned and looked at me.
"You mean you haven't heard?" he asked angrily. "Everyone else in the neighborhood knows."
"He's telling everyone you're gay, right?" I asked.
"Something like that," he responded sadly.
"He's doing the same thing to me. He didn't say anything to you?" I asked. He looked at me and shook his head.
"Really?" he sounded surprised.
"Yeah, really," I said. "He's a crazy son of a bitch."
"You got that right." Bobby looked at me and smiled. We continued to walk down the street quietly. Neither of us knew what to say. We seemed to share a common bond; but how do you tell someone you hardly know why someone else is calling you a fag? I guess he was thinking the same thing.
"Where are you going now?" I asked suddenly. I don't know why, but I really wanted to spend some time with him. I think we both needed someone right now.
"Home, I guess," he said sadly. "Nothing else to do."
"Let's go to the mall and get some ice cream." I looked at him with a puppy dog face. He looked at me and laughed.
"Why?" he asked skeptically.
"Why not?" I responded, giving him another pleading look. He laughed again.
"Sure, okay," he replied after giving it some thought. "But I'll warn you. I'm not the best of company. Most people find me boring."
"Alright then, bore me." He looked at me wide-eyed. I didn't realize what that sounded like until I said it. He started laughing when he saw me begin to blush.
"Not on the first date," he laughed. Then he turned and began walking down the sidewalk. I watched him for a minute then ran to catch up with him. He may be boring, but he has a sense of humor.
It took us about twenty minutes to reach the mall. It was the only attraction in our town, other than the swimming pool. It was also a teen hangout. There wasn't a lot to do here other than shop. It did have a pretty nice theater. It has six screens, so we don't have to watch the same movie all the time.
We walked through the mall to Ben and Jerry's. The ice cream is expensive, but it's worth the cost. They have the second best ice cream. The best is the ice cream parlor down the street from my aunt.
We got some strange looks from other students who went to our school. They had never seen Bobby with anyone before. I have some friends, and I do eat lunch with a group I've known for several years. We don't hang together after school, but at least I don't have to each lunch by myself like Bobby usually does.
We walked to the counter and ordered. I got two scoops of Chunky Monkey and Bobby ordered Cherry Garcia. Bobby reached in his pocket to pay, but I insisted on buying. I had just gotten $25 for mowing a yard, so it really didn't bother me. I was glad Bobby had joined me.
We took a seat at a table at the window where we could watch people as they walked by. We didn't say much at first, mostly just small talk. However, I watched his eyes as boys would walk by. He'd look them over carefully. One really cute guy walked by holding a girl's hand and he started sexually licking his cone. I don't think he even realized it. He noticed me watching and blushed.
If you stripped aside all first impressions, Bobby is cute. At first glance, he looks like the stereotypical nerd. I think a lot had to do with the way he dresses. However, he has a very handsome face. His features are beautiful. He has soft brown eyes and little puffy lips. His nose is small and slightly upturned. He has light brown hair that sort of flows down the side of his face. He has a habit of brushing it aside all the time. He isn't feminine looking, but his small body makes him appear to be. He looks like he just stepped out of the pages of 'Oliver Twist.' I read that in literature class also.
He seemed to become uncomfortable after I noticed him watching boys walk past the window. We had been getting along pretty well, but now he just ate his ice cream and looked down at the table.
"8," I said. He looked up and wondered what I was talking about. Then he followed my eyes and saw a rather cute boy walking alone past the window.
"Naw. 7 ½," he replied as he smiled shyly at me. Just then a rather unattractive boy walked by.
"2," he said.
"You gotta be kidding," I exclaimed. "He's definitely a 1." We both began to laugh. We spent the next half hour rating guys that went by. We did agree on one extremely good-looking boy. We both shouted 10 at the same time.
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