The Fabulous Adventures of Leif & Lyle

by Clyde Andrews

  The Fabulous Adventures of

  Leif & Lyle

  The Kidnapping of Mister Metaxas

  Clyde Andrews

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  The right of Clyde Andrews to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him.

  Copyright © Clyde Andrews 2019

  Edited by Charlie Knight: www.cknightwrites.com

  Cover by Billion Photos and used under license with Canva Premium for use as Kindle and Paperback book cover © 2019.

  Cover content is for illustration purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

  ALL RIGHT RESERVED. No part of this may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author.

  Published by Eridani Books 2019

  Fifteen-year-old Lyle and his boyfriend Leif are popular in school—or, so they believe.

  One day, Leif discovers that his adorable basset hound, Mister Metaxas, has been kidnapped and the ransom note indicates that not everyone is happy about gay kids at school.

  As the investigation begins to get back Mister Metaxas, the list of suspects mount. Thankfully, Leif and Lyle have a few good friends and very supportive families, because they will not only uncover the truth about why someone would kidnap Mister Metaxas, but also discover a lot of things that will surprise them, too.

  Oh, and being heroes will be a bonus!

  Chapter One

  The First Real Day of School

  I felt like I was going to explode.

  I was sure there would soon be bits of me that belonged on the inside suddenly splattered all over the pavement, scaring the neighbourhood busybodies with the bang and the messy aftermath. There would be so much carnage even forensic experts with concerned looks and questioning glances at the chaos couldn’t identify who I was. I worried for my parents—they would never be sure the red stain three doors down on the footpath was me. I could tell it was going to happen soon, too, because my breathing became difficult and my heart thumped in an irregular rhythm against the back of my ribs.

  “It’ll be fine, Lyle,” Leif said, holding my hand tighter.

  I linked my fingers with his, the entwining of them matching the way my heart felt about him, my feelings of love. “Easy for you to say, you’re always Mister Cool. Look at me. Wowsers, I’m sweating here.”

  “Relax. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Yeah, but this is the first time we’ve…like…you know, shown everyone at school we’re together, isn’t it?”

  Leif stopped dead in his tracks, forcing me to do the same. His brow furrowed. The movement of the branches of a nearby tree dappled shade and light across his face. He was handsome in a cute boy-next-door kind of way, with dead-straight shiny black hair that swept down to cover one of his misty, mysterious blue eyes. His smile was infectious, and I couldn’t help staring at his lovely lips. Lips I wanted to kiss, over and over again.

  We hadn’t done that yet.

  I thought about it a lot; perhaps that was part of the reason I was about to explode. I wondered what it would be like to be swept away, to get lost in his touch and embrace. I sighed, nervous and dreamy all at the same time.

  I had to kiss him soon.

  Although, holding hands was brilliant. It was a gesture that made me feel connected and part of something bigger than me, and I didn’t care who saw us. Leif Robinson, the cutest boy in school was my boyfriend.

  Leif asked me out last week—Wednesday during study period in the library. He slipped me a note that said, Lyle, I want to hold your hand and kiss your lips so that together we can breathe one breath. Will you be my boyfriend and make my dreams come true?

  Suffice it to say, with those words we went on our first date the following Saturday night. It wasn’t a dream, even though it felt like it. In fact, from that moment on, everything had been kinda dreamy. I don’t remember what the movie was about because I watched him eat popcorn most of the time. I liked to watch him eat. The way his Adam’s Apple bobbed when he swallowed was hypnotising. I wanted to kiss that, too.

  I still had the note in my pocket; knowing it was there warmed my soul.

  Last Saturday night was the first time we held hands, too. The people around us who noticed weren’t concerned, or only offered knowing glances. From then on, we always held hands. And today we’d be doing it as we walked into the real crucible of fire when it came to teenage life—high school. I couldn’t help being nervous.

  And have that exploding feeling I mentioned earlier.

  “Lyle Tucker Wallace,” Leif blurted, bringing me back from my reverie. “You’re my boyfriend and that’s all that matters. Everyone else can like it or lump it. It’s not like we’re going to march into school, French kiss, then take each other’s clothes off while standing on top of the main dining table of the canteen, now is it?”

  I gulped at that. Here I was thinking about kissing, and Leif was clearly thinking beyond that. He wanted to take my clothes off! I felt strange when I thought about that. Even numb. But then a warmth rose up from deep inside to make my heart flutter. I’d like to kiss him without either of us having any clothing on. And keep on kissing him.

  But I pressed on. “It’s called pashing, Leif. Not French kissing.” He was such a romantic.

  “Whatever it’s called, I want to do it with you.”

  My insides flipped.

  “Me, too,” I squeaked, my voice breaking to go up and down the scales of human hearing within the span of those two words.

  “How about during lunch break, we go someplace quiet and—”

  “Hey, guys! Who did you say was pashing?” a voice from behind me yelled. Forget the busybodies of the neighbourhood needing to investigate what was going on in front of their yards—potential explosion or not—it had been announced in HD clarity and Dolby Surround sound by Edwin, the biggest know-it-all in the universe, even if he was a good friend.

  A painfully skinny boy came in front of us. Thick, black-rimmed glasses were his prominent feature. The rest of him was a mess of brown hair that hid most of his face, dark searching eyes, and a nose bright red from his allergies.

  “No one, Edwin,” Leif replied flatly.

  “Say, why are you holding hands?” was his next question as he fidgeted on the spot, like he had ants crawling up the insides of his pants. The boy couldn’t keep still. He also sneezed, wiping his dripping nose with the back of his hand. My stomach flipped again but for a different reason. He pressed on, unaware that he’d made me nauseous. “Are you two boyfriends?”

  Leif groaned again, and I replied, “Yeah, Edwin, we’re boyfriends.”

  Edwin looked taken aback. “When did that happen?” He was full of questions, this one.

  “When I asked Lyle last week,” Leif stated matter-of-factly, offering a knowing smile to complete the sentence.

  “I so wish I had a boyfriend who could—hey, why’s your dog out, Leif? Is he following you to school?”

  At that, Leif spun around on his heels and I was taken for the ride. Being joined by the hands sure was interesting and would take me a while to get used to, especially out in public.

  Sure enough, there was Mister Metaxas, Leif’s adorably cuddly basset hound strutting up the street to greet us, head held high and tail waggling frantically. The dog’s sad eyes made my heart melt. Who wouldn’t l
ove Mister Metaxas?

  “Oww roww woww,” Mister Metaxas rumbled in greeting as soon as he was close enough for Leif to bend down and pet him.

  I petted Mister Metaxas as well, his fur soft under my fingertips.

  Mister Metaxas rolled onto his back in the grass shaded by the tree we’d stopped under. There were plenty of tummy scratches after that given by the both of us.

  “You know you’re not supposed to be out of the yard, boy. Mum’ll kill me if she knew you were out.”

  “Moww roww.” Mister Metaxas’ mouth fell open; his massive tongue flopped down one side, panting to reflect his delight at our attention.

  “We’d better get him back to your place, Leif.”

  Leif nodded. “Yep, but we’d better hurry up otherwise we’ll be late for school—I don’t want detention.”

  I wasn’t bothered if we were late for school or not. Skipping the first class to make sure Mister Metaxas was safe was more important. That, and it might give me an opportunity to kiss Leif. Kiss him and kiss him again. That would be fantastic.

  “I’ll see you both in gym class then,” Edwin announced. I’d forgotten he was there.

  “Yeah, yeah, sure,” Leif said, picking up Mister Metaxas to carry him home.

  It was the first time in ages my hand wasn’t being held. It felt cold and weird without my fingers entwined within Leif’s, but it was for a good cause. I loved how he adored his dog. I adored him, too.

  The dog, that is. I more than adored Leif.

  Leif and I ran to school after returning Mister Metaxas to his front yard, making sure the gate was locked before we left. We made it with ten minutes to spare before the first bell.

  After catching our breaths back, smiling that we’d made it, Leif slipped his hand into mine again. I hadn’t realised how much I missed his warmth, his reassuring touch. My stomach did another lovely flip, especially when he looked at me with those mysterious, misty blue eyes of his.

  If my heart was melted by the sight of Mister Metaxas, Leif liquified my insides until there was nothing left but a gelatinous-like mess where all the important parts of me used to be.

  At the school’s main entrance—a recently renovated red brick heritage listed façade complete with freshly painted white detailing and entrance columns, the “Preston High” sign with the school logo to the left of the steps we walked up—he said, “This is it.”

  We pushed open the main doors. Together, into the hell that was high school, we walked proudly.

  As boyfriends.

  My self-imposed explosion was indeed imminent. I wondered how long it would take them to scrape me off the building. Although, being bright brick-red, would they even see my guts splattered all over it?

  Leif squeezed my hand to reassure me.

  I breathed in, counted to ten, and put on a smile, stopping myself from spiralling.

  Chapter Two

  Lamingtons Are Okay

  Even with the hall cram packed with students from all walks of life, the first person to greet us happened to be Britney “look at me I’m the head cheerleader for the Preston Tigers’ football team” Jenkins. Justifiably so, I supposed. She was gorgeous and she knew it; long blonde hair, cute button nose, bubbly everything else.

  Her boyfriend was none other than my first crush, Ben DeGennaro. Now he was fine, a football star with a fit body that looked great either in his school/footy uniforms or a brown hessian sack—yeah, I’d seen him in a sack during one of our school plays that promoted good eating: Ben was a potato, and I was a bunch of carrots.

  Ben won the cutest vegetable award hands down. Even my parents commented how adorable he was. I agreed wholeheartedly. I supposed that was the first time they suspected I was gay, because I doted over Ben for weeks after that. When I eventually told my parents I liked boys, they were all hugs and smiles, relieved I was able to be myself, Mum especially.

  Only my bratty little brother Jasper—younger than me by ten months—hated me after I came out. Not that our relationship was all peaches and ice cream, anyway. We used to be so close, but his “you just want the attention all the time, don’t you, Lyle?” statement sealed the deal that we weren’t going to get on from that day forward. We haven’t spoken much since, and that was a year ago.

  Actually, I stand corrected. He only talked to me when he wanted to tell me how disappointing I was to him and how Leif, who he thought was cool, turned out to be just like me—an attention seeker.

  “About time,” Britney’s screechy voice that could strip paint off walls announced, bringing me back to the moment as if I’d been slapped across the face. Her eyes immediately fell onto our joined hands. “It took forever for you two to get your crap together and date. But, it’s so lamington, you know?”

  “Lamington?” I enquired.

  She flicked her hair out of her face. “Don’t you know anything? It means you’re both sweet and wrong at the same time.”

  Leif’s face reflected my puzzlement. “I don’t understand, Britney.”

  She shrugged, rolling her eyes for emphasis. “Like a lamington, once you’ve got past the sugary, coconut-sprinkled, chocolate exterior, there’s that spongy, tasteless, awful stuff underneath. Like, that stuff’s so gross. And it’s the same with you two. Once you get past the hand holding and cute kissing, there’s all that other stuff gay boys do with each other that’s just nasty.”

  Leif offered her a crooked smile, but I could see the cogs of his mind working. His next words proved me right. “Oh, you mean the same things you do with Ben when you’re in private together?”

  I had to suppress a snort of laughter. Without saying it, Leif had said a lot. I won’t go into details, but from the gossip, Ben liked certain things a certain way in the bedroom and Britney obliged enthusiastically. In my opinion, I’d say there was a lot of spongy nastiness going on between them. Leif and I hadn’t even got past cute and sweet yet. Although, the other stuff sure intrigued me—no matter what anyone else thought of it.

  But one step at a time…

  She stopped flicking her hair. “Whatever, Leif.”

  And with that she strutted away in a whirlwind of self-righteousness and—well, just self-righteousness, really. What was the old saying my Grandma used to tell me: The pot calling the kettle black? That applied to Britney and then some.

  But I cringed.

  Britney always had that effect on me, even if she was a friend. A talent, for sure.

  “I feel sorry for Ben,” I said as we approached our lockers; mine was next to Leif’s, like my house was next to his. We were meant to be, for sure. He was even the perfect height so that his head fit nicely into that space between my chin and my chest when we hugged. It was like God had said, “Here, I’ve made your soulmate, Lyle. Have a happy life together.” I smiled.

  Our lockers were in a prime spot, too: in the middle of the row and shoulder height. That was locker location gold!

  “Everyone feels sorry for Ben—he just doesn’t know it himself yet.”

  As if he’d been summoned by the gods to give gay boys like me something nice to look at after Britney’s toxicity, Ben materialised beside us. His smile radiated like warm morning light over a cold, dew-encrusted field. Thinking about those lips of his had caused many sticky night-time interruptions to my sleep before I became Leif’s boyfriend, that’s for sure.

  Jeez, it was such a waste Ben was straight.

  I dreaded to think about what would have happened to me pre-Leif days if I’d seen Ben in the changeroom without his shirt on. In a way, I’m glad I didn’t play footy; I’d never be able to function.

  Thankfully, it was just as well Leif took over my fantasies. I looked at him to reinforce those thoughts. He’d licked his lips, so they were wet, and again I had certain urges crashing into my mind.

  I wanted to kiss them.

  Kiss them and kiss them.

  Leif was delicious—far from a lamington, because I knew that beneath the surface, he was good. His love of Mister
Metaxas and his thoughtfulness were evidence of that.

  Also, and unlike Ben, I’d seen Leif in nothing but his swim shorts.

  Leif was thin but well defined muscularly. I loved staring at his bare skin, so pale and soft. I wanted to touch him, everywhere. It was those thoughts that had led to plenty of late-night extracurricular activities requiring tissues lately.

  “Hey there, buddies,” Ben said doing a cute finger gun at us with a wink thrown in for good measure. “Great to see you’re finally together. That’s awesome!”

  “Hi, Ben,” I said, startled even though I knew he was there. I’d been daydreaming again. Just like me to do that. “And thanks.”

  “Yeah, hey, Ben.”

  Leif squeezed my hand. I knew how he felt. Ben was certainly good eye candy—God sure spent a little extra time building him, no doubt. His wayward brown/blond spiky hair, thick eyebrows, chiselled jaw, and proportionally pleasant body were proof of that.

  Ben smiled again and he was about to speak when Edwin returned to come between us all. Something about him was different than the last time we’d seen him. I couldn’t put my finger on it, and it nagged at my thoughts, like baby birds chirping hungrily for their mother to feed them.

  Before I could contemplate my concerns, Edwin sniffled. “Hello there, Ben.” He didn’t address Leif or me—we didn’t exist, apparently. Leif snickered, but I didn’t know what to think.

  Edwin also drooled, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and then sneezed, but giggled in apology to Ben. The stud muffin that was Ben smiled warmly once more. Edwin then did that whole head tilt thing.

  What the…

  Was Edwin nerd-flirting with jock-of-the-year Ben?

  “Hey, Sparkles!” Ben called Edwin “Sparkles” because his last name was Sparks—well, I assumed that’s what it was about. “Great to see you. You’re looking fine today, my man. Been working out, hey?”

  Edwin blushed a shade so red it would have activated the fire alarm if he were standing any closer to the sensor. It was then I noticed the thing that had been bugging me. His eyes were glassy, red-rimmed as well. Had he been crying? His voice, even though uneven with nerves—which was understandable around Ben—didn’t reflect sadness, though. “Now that you mention it, Ben, I have been lifting some weights, yeah.”