by Mark Roeder
I returned to the car and grabbed another box. The disadvantage of living upstairs in such a big place soon became evident. It was quite a trip to the car and back. It was going to be a considerable hike whenever I wanted a shower, too. There was a boys’ restroom about fifteen feet from my room, but I’d have to walk all the way to the boys’ locker room in the gym to take a shower. Don’t get the idea I’m complaining, though. Living in that old school was going to be awesome! I could rule the school!
Mom and I made a couple of trips back to the rental house to get the rest of the boxes. Soon, it was empty. I wondered when we’d get our stuff from the house in Marmont. Most of the packing was already done. Mom and Dad had been busy getting ready for the move, and I’d already been back once to pack up my stuff.
I wanted to get my room all cleaned up before my furniture and belongings arrived. I’d already tracked down a…well, it wasn’t a broom; it was a floor sweeper about five-feet wide with a handle. It did a great job picking up the dust off the floor. There was quite a bit of accumulated dust, but not all that much considering the place was probably last cleaned way before I was born.
I dusted off the window and chalkboard ledges, too. I must have cleaned for an hour and a half, but when I finished, the room looked great.
I needed to make a shopping list. I grabbed a piece of chalk and began to write my list on the chalkboard. I paused for a moment. The last person to write on that chalkboard was probably a teacher writing down a homework assignment. Or, perhaps it was some poor kid called up to the front of the class to do a math problem or diagram a sentence. A weird feeling crept up my spine. Kids had come into this room every day for years and years to attend classes. Now, it was my bedroom. One thing was for sure: I bet I’d have more fun in there than any of those kids, especially when Tim was visiting!
I began my wish list by writing down “easy chair” and “loveseat.” I soon added “rug” and “dorm-size refrigerator.” I liked the solid-wood floor, but a big area rug would look really cool. It would cut down on the echo, too. I wasn’t sure I’d like hearing myself walk across the floor all the time. A little refrigerator was going to be great—if I could find one. It was a long way down to the kitchen.
I remembered I had homework to do, so I sat on my bed and did my assignments. It was kind of funny: here I was doing homework for school in an old school. I’d be the only kid at VHS who went to school when he left school at the end of the day.
It was getting kind of late by the time I finished up, so I grabbed my toiletries bag and walked across the hall to the boys’ restroom. Inside was what one would expect: toilet stalls, urinals, and sinks. What surprised me was that there were only four of each. VHS had twice as many and several bathrooms. Still, it felt kind of odd brushing my teeth in what had once been a public bathroom. It was kind of eerie in a way. I almost expected the ghost of a past student to walk in. I put that thought out of my mind fast. I did not want to spook myself on my first night in my new home.
I had some trouble getting to sleep. The lights from passing cars flashed on the walls. I kept hearing odd noises, probably pipes knocking or something like that, but I wasn’t so sure. Dad told me old buildings make weird noises, so I wasn’t too concerned. Still, it was a little freaky.
My alarm awakened me the next morning. I’d set it for half an hour earlier than usual because I knew it would take me longer to get ready in an unfamiliar place. The walk to school might be a bit longer, too. I didn’t like getting up early, but I disliked rushing even more.
I got up, pulled on my robe, slipped on my house shoes, grabbed my towel, washcloth, shampoo, and soap and headed for the showers downstairs. I bet I was the first person ever to walk through the hallways of the old school in a robe.
My house shoes shuffled on the wide, wooden stairs. I walked past door after door with frosted-glass windows. I looked up the short entrance hallway, past the display cases, to the front doors and the street outside. At the moment, my new home felt exactly like what it was: a school. I couldn’t shake the feeling that scores of kids would be arriving in an hour or so for classes.
I turned and walked down the hallway that led past the old cafeteria. I pushed through the double doors at the end of the hall and into the gym. I crossed to the middle of the floor and paused a moment to look around. The lights were off, but the morning sun came through the high windows up above the bleachers. The gym was small by modern standards. I wasn’t sure, but the basketball court didn’t look quite full size. Then again, it probably only looked that way because the bleachers were so much closer to the sidelines than they were at VHS.
“This is so cool,” I said. “I have my own basketball court.”
Sadness enveloped me as I thought of Billy Holmes. He had a passion for basketball. He’d go nuts over a place like this. I’d had a huge crush on Billy, but he’d turned against me when he found out I was gay. He’d even beaten me up. He was one of the main reasons I couldn’t live in Marmont anymore.
I pushed Billy out of my mind. I had Tim now, so Billy no longer mattered. Verona was a hundred times better than Marmont. I was not going to miss my old home—or those I’d once thought of as my friends. I had real friends now, friends who accepted me just as I was, gayness and all.
I returned my attention to the gym. The wooden bleachers, ten rows high, surrounded the basketball court on three sides. At the far end, beyond one of the basketball hoops, was a small stage. Old light-blue-and-white curtains still hung at the sides. On either side of the stage was a doorway. I headed for the one on the left.
The door was just like all the doors throughout the building: wood with frosted glass. This one read “Boys’ Locker Room.” I opened it and stepped inside. The locker room wasn’t as big as the one at VHS, but it resembled it in that it had lockers on three walls and benches in the center. The lockers weren’t like those at VHS, either. Instead of a door, each compartment held a wire basket with a number on a metal plate on the front. Some of the baskets were still locked in place. There were several of these on each side of the room.
I hung my robe and towel on one of the hooks on the wall, feeling the weird sense that I was the first person to do so in decades. I shivered a little in the chill air. I slipped off my house shoes and carried my shampoo, soap, and washcloth into the shower room. While smaller, it was almost exactly like the one at VHS. The floor and walls were tiled, with drains near the center. It was a communal shower with eight showerheads.
I turned on one of the showerheads. In just a few moments the water began to run warm. I was relieved. I’d feared the water might take a long time to warm up or perhaps wouldn’t get warm at all. I stepped under the shower and let the warm water pound down upon me.
As I shampooed my hair, I thought about all the boys who had showered in that shower room. The showers back at my old school had always been a place of danger, a place where my desires might be revealed. I enjoyed stealing looks at wet, naked boys, but I always feared I’d get caught, or my own body would give me away. The showers were also a setting for my fantasies, but I’m not telling you about them! No one gets to know about those fantasies but me…and maybe Tim.
I soaped up with my washcloth and thought about the things Tim and I might get up to in the locker and shower rooms. I began to breathe a little harder. Tim was a football player. He could make some of my fantasies come true. I wondered if I could get him to bring over his uniform sometime when my parents weren’t home… Okay, enough of that. You’re learning far too much.
I will tell you what I did while I was in the shower room alone, wet, and soapy. I just couldn’t help myself. All those thoughts of wet, naked jocks… Then again, I don’t think I will tell you. You’ll just have figure it out if you can.
I walked back into the locker room after I’d…showered, dried off, and slipped back into my robe. I trekked back to my room and dressed for school. I couldn’t wait to get my meager furniture in my room. It was kind of awkward living out
of boxes and bags. My new home was going to take quite a bit of getting used to as well. I wondered if anyone had written a book entitled How to Live Comfortably in an Abandoned School. Probably not; it was kind of a specialized area.
I stuffed my books into my backpack, grabbed my coat, toboggan, and scarf and walked downstairs to the cafeteria.
“There you are,” Mom said as I entered. It was weird hearing her voice. I’d begun to think I was the last living person on earth.
“Pancakes?” I asked as I sniffed the air. I walked closer. Mom was indeed flipping pancakes in a skillet on one of the stoves.
“I thought I’d break in the new kitchen. I’m glad you’re up. I was afraid I’d have to come after you.”
“I got up early.”
“Set a table. Everything is in boxes by the serving area. I haven’t had a chance to unpack yet. I spent last night cleaning in here.”
“I spent last night cleaning my room.”
“Oh, I hope I hear that phrase a lot.”
“Don’t get used to it,” I teased.
I set a place for each of us at the nearest table. The old cafeteria seemed so empty. The whole place was full of ghosts. I don’t mean ghosts as in the spirits of dead people, but ghosts as in the lingering memory of those who were once there.
In minutes, Mom and I sat down to a breakfast of pancakes and bacon. Yum.
“So, when are we moving our stuff from Marmont?” I asked.
“As soon as your father gets everything organized. Probably later this week.”
“Awesome. I can’t wait to get my room set up. I love it. It’s huge!”
“You seem much happier here in Verona.”
“Of course I am. I have friends. I have a boyfriend. No one beats on me. What’s not to like?”
“I’m glad you’re happy. Just take it easy with your boyfriend. You’re only sixteen.”
“I promise, no one will get pregnant.”
“Dane,” Mom said in her warning voice.
“Well, you could lighten up a little. Two guys dating isn’t the same as a guy and a girl dating.”
“That’s what I fear. Remember, I dated teenaged boys. It’s been several years, but I remember what they’re like.”
“What’s the danger, though, Mom? It’s not as if Tim or I can get pregnant.”
“There are other dangers, Dane.”
“I know there are dangers. There are also precautions to take.”
“I just don’t feel you’re old enough for sex. Give yourself a chance to be a kid, Dane. You’ll have decades to be an adult. Believe me, once you become an adult, you’ll want to be a kid again.”
“Yeah, but Tim and I want to have fun.”
“You can have fun, just don’t…”
“What?” I asked mischievously. Mom was turning a bit red. To be honest, I was kind of amazed I was so casually discussing sex with my mom. We weren’t talking how to do it, but we were dancing on the edge.
“Just don’t try to be too adult too quickly.”
“I guess I can understand how you feel, but I’m not a kid anymore.”
“True, but you’re also not an adult. You’re going through a very difficult time in your life. You’re caught in between—neither a child, nor an adult. It can be confusing, and it’s easy to make mistakes.”
“Well, don’t worry too much. With Shawn watching us like a hawk, we don’t have a chance to do anything.”
“That’s why you’re allowed to spend time at Tim’s.”
“Would you be watching me this close if I was dating a girl?”
“Even closer.”
“Closer? Are you kidding me? How could you watch me closer?”
Mom just gave me “the look,” which was a cross between “don’t go there” and an elongated “please.”
“I want to get a couch for my room or maybe a loveseat,” I said to change the subject.
“So, you’re exciting about fixing up your room?” Mom asked.
“Of course.”
“I can’t wait to get going with this place myself. There is so much that can be done. I’m going to concentrate on the kitchen and bedroom first. Your dad will no doubt focus his efforts on his office. It’s going to be so wonderful to have him working at home.”
We finished breakfast. I bundled up, kissed Mom, tossed my backpack over my shoulder, and headed for school—my other school. Well, you know what I mean.
I thought a lot about Tim and me as I walked to school. I really wanted to get with him. Making out and feeling up is all well and good, but I wanted more. Giving each other head in the auditorium was intense. I wanted more of that and more than that, too.
I wasn’t entirely truthful with Mom during our talk, but I also didn’t outright lie. I could sort of understand her point of view. I just didn’t agree with it as much as I let on. I knew there were dangers to sex, but Tim and I didn’t have to worry about the biggie. I joked about it with Mom, but seriously, it was impossible for one of us to get pregnant. We were both male—natural birth control. I didn’t feel I could be completely honest with Mom. For one thing, it would have been kind of disrespectful to tell her I was going to have sex with Tim no matter what she said. For another thing, if she knew I was determined to have sex, she’d watch me all the closer. Finally, I didn’t want to get Mom worried. She was no doubt picturing the worst-case scenario. She probably had a book called Nasty Sexually Transmitted Diseases Carried by Teenaged Boys that she read every night. She was a mother, so she didn’t truly understand. Guys my age had needs, powerful needs. Our bodies were built for regular sex, and when we didn’t get it, we were in imminent danger of exploding!
I was thinking that with my move to a larger abode came greater opportunities for sex. I didn’t even bother thinking about getting it on with Tim at the rental house if my parents were there. Even if they didn’t see us, they could have easily heard us. There were plenty of places to hide in the new house, however. My parents were not stupid, though. They probably knew I was thinking exactly what I was thinking. Tim and I were going to have to be extra clever if we were going to get away with anything. I didn’t even want to consider the consequences of getting caught. There was the embarrassment, of course, but even worse was the possibility that my parents would try to keep Tim and me apart. If they caught us having sex, Tim probably wouldn’t be allowed to come over anymore, and I wouldn’t be allowed to go to his place. I did not agree with my parents’ opinions on the appropriateness of teenagers having sex, but that didn’t matter. They would come down on me hard if I got caught. Getting it on in one of the abandoned classrooms wouldn’t be safe enough. We had to find a better hiding place. I intended to devote a lot of thought to the possibilities.
Shawn
I browsed through the classics in the public library, but I couldn’t find anything that appealed to me. My Valentine’s Day “date” with Tristan had been wonderful, but he was so intelligent he frightened me. I don’t mean he was a genius or anything, but he was obviously a good deal smarter than I was. I wasn’t stupid, well not really stupid, just kind of, but I definitely wasn’t cultured. I thought that if I read a great classic I’d have something intelligent to say. Maybe that would help get Tristan interested in me.
The trouble was that I didn’t know what to read. It all looked so boring or intimidating. War and Peace? Are you kidding me? How could anyone read a book that long? The Catcher in the Rye? Wasn’t rye something like corn or rice? I didn’t think I wanted to read about farming. Maybe “catcher” referred to baseball, but I seriously doubted it. I didn’t even bother pulling that book off the shelf. I found a book by Chekhov, but that just made me feel stupid, because at first I thought it was written by the helmsman of the Enterprise. I had no idea why that book was in the Classics section, but it was by another Chekhov. The Song of Roland? At least that book was short, but it was one really long poem. I didn’t think I could get into poetry. I wasn’t accustomed to reading unless I was forced to d
o so—or it was a football magazine or something like that. I ended up leaving the library without checking anything out. I felt discouraged, but I wasn’t giving up. I was going to make Tristan my boyfriend.
My next stop filled me with anxiety. The drug store didn’t usually frighten me, but then I was usually in there buying a candy bar or a magazine. This time was different. I actually had to force myself to go in.
Once inside, I felt as though everyone was watching me, as if they knew what I was going to buy. I walked down the aisle where they sold tampons and hemorrhoid cream. I pretended to be checking out suppositories while I covertly browsed the condoms. I’m not exactly sure why I did that. If you think about it, looking at something you stick up your butt is more embarrassing than looking at something to put on your penis.
Purchasing condoms was confusing. I didn’t know there were so many kinds! There were ribbed condoms and even flavored ones. I finally decided on a box of lubricated Trojans. I’d heard of Trojan condoms, so I figured they must be pretty good.
Once I had the box in hand, I dashed over to the candy aisle. I picked up a Milky Way and a box of Lemon Heads, not so much because I wanted them, but because I didn’t want it to look as if I came in just to buy condoms, which was exactly what I had done.
Thankfully, no one else was in line when I walked up to the counter. I was also thankful it was a middle-aged guy at the cash register. I don’t know why, but if it had been a woman, I would’ve been more embarrassed. The guy didn’t bat an eye at the box of condoms. I guess he sold them all the time. I think I turned a bit red, however. Boy, was I relieved when I’d made it out of there!
Okay, now before you go thinking I bought those condoms in anticipation of some future illicit activity with Tristan, let me set you straight. As much as I wanted Tristan, I knew there was no way in hell we would be getting around to doing anything that required condoms for a long time. Maybe we never would. Anyway, the condoms weren’t for me at all. I wished I had a use for them, but I didn’t.