Nick and Tony – Chapter 3
Copyright 2018, Nick Brady, all rights reserved. This is a work of fiction and not autobiographical.
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When Tony and I got back up to the pool we dumped the dirty towels and jumped into the water to rinse off.
Tony looked up at the clock and saw it was almost noon and time for him to go. "I'll see you again, man," he said.
“For sure Tony. I'll see you later,” I said smiling at him and getting back his big grin.
I climbed out of the pool and fetched my towel, wrapping it around me and sitting down leaning against the wall. I wondered when Jack was going to show up and walked over to ask the other attendant.
"I don't think he is coming in today," he said.
"Are you sure?” I asked.
He walked into the little office and looked at a chart. Jack's name was there but it had been penciled through and another name was written next to it. "I guess he called in. Sorry."
That bothered me a little because I thought Jack had said "see you tomorrow" when he dropped me off the night before. Maybe I imagined that. Anyway, if Jack wasn't coming in I was ready to go. I was hungry and still a little bit horny even after all that play with Tony. I tightened the towel around my waist and started for the dressing rooms.
I decided to make another quick trip to the pump room to see if anything interesting was going on. There were quite a few men and boys in the pool and it seemed to be worth a look. I slipped into the little room whose low hum and the smell of oil and chlorine were familiar to me now. When I looked through the window into the deep end I saw the surge of bubbles from someone diving from the board. As they rose to the surface I could see almost to the other end of the pool.
Several men were swimming laps and I could see the bubbles from their arm strokes and kicks, and bellies swinging back and forth. Near the window but over in the corner were several people but they were almost out of sight. As I watched them I could see an older man wearing a red Speedo who must have been a lot older than the boys. The hair on his chest and stomach was shot with gray and he was kind of thick around the waist. Pushing out the front of his Speedos was what looked like a huge cock, and he kept adjusting it.
I was pretty sure that the boys knew what he was doing because they were close enough to him to look down and see the front of his Speedo. As I watched I could see that the man was brushing his hands across the front of both boys and they were treading water so as to stay quite close together.
Finally, the man pulled down the front of his Speedos to let his big cock flop out and took both boy's hands and pressed them onto himself. When they felt him press their hands onto his dick it seemed to spook them and they backed away. I could see the man reaching for them but they turned and swam off.
After that, the Speedo guy swam away and I decided to go up to the dressing room to shower.
I climbed up from the pump room and walked up to the boys dressing room. When I turned into the row of lockers where I had left my clothes, there was the Speedo man, slowly drying himself off with a towel. I was surprised to see him there because the adult dressing rooms were supposed to be in the next section but there he was.
"Hi", he said brightly as soon as he saw me. "How are you today?"
"OK, I guess," I replied.
"Well, I'm just great," he said cheerily, "doesn't a nice swim feel great on a day like this?"
I didn't answer but he went on;
"My name is Bob and I'm here in town for most of the week for a business meeting. I always love to stay at the Y because of the athletic facilities. I like to try to keep in shape, you know." He looked me over with a practiced eye, "You certainly look like you are in good shape. I bet you play some sports. What do you play?"
All the time he was chattering away at me he was pretending to dry himself off, spending most of his time adjusting his very large cock which was pushing against the flimsy front of his red Speedos. It was clear that this guy was making a pass at me just like he was with the boys in the pool. I was still kind of horny after playing around with Tony. I really didn't care for this guy very much but I couldn't help but look at his fat tool.
"Well, I believe I need a nice hot shower to wash off all that chlorine. Care to join me?" he asked hopefully. “I have some nice soap and shampoo and conditioner too. I bet that nice curly red hair would comb out a lot smoother with some good conditioner," he rattled on.
I felt kind of nervous doing this, but my hormones were overriding my common sense. I had never seen a dick that big before and I was curious about what he was going to do. I dropped my towel, picked up a dry one and walked toward the showers. The man's eyes got big when he saw my uncut penis. He looked me over and smiled like he was showing the dentist all his teeth at once.
"Oh my, don't you look nice. I bet all the girls are fighting over that pretty thing," he said with a silly lilt in his voice.
He made me uncomfortable, but I followed him into the shower room where he turned on a pair of shower heads. I figured since he was a grownup, he wouldn't try anything in a public place. I was wrong.
He began to soap himself up lathering his big cock and making it very hard, all the time chattering nonsense to me. I was both fascinated and repulsed. When he offered to wash my back, I tried to move away from him but he grabbed me, slammed me up against the wall and bent me over. I yelled at him to stop but he snarled something about knowing what I wanted as he pushed his crotch against my butt. All I can remember is a searing pain and then I found myself crumpled down on the floor. My ass was hurting like crazy and when I stuck my hand back there, it came back with blood on my fingers. The man in the red Speedo was gone.
I leaned against the wall of the shower and puked. I hadn't eaten since breakfast so it was mostly dry heaves, but I gagged and retched for a long time. My ass hurt really bad, I was sick to my stomach, terribly angry and felt very dirty and ashamed. I really wanted to die.
When I finally was able to stand and rinse myself off in the shower, Speedo man was nowhere in sight. I went back to my locker and sat down on the bench and put my face in my hands and cried. Was this what it meant to be gay? I hated the man who had hurt me, and most of all I hated myself.
A couple of teens came in to change and I quickly put on my clothes and left. I went home to what I knew was an empty apartment and locked the door to my bedroom. I pulled the shades and curtains, got undressed and crawled into bed. I wanted to hide and never have to talk to anybody again.
I fell into a restless sleep and was awakened at about 5:30 in the afternoon with my mother's voice outside my room. “Nicky, your friend Jack is here from the YMCA to look at that apartment. Daddy isn't home yet, do you want to show it to him?"
I didn't know what I wanted to do. My ass hurt and I still felt sick. But the thought of Jack's strong arms sounded pretty good.
"I'll be right out Mom. I just need to change my clothes". Suddenly I realized that I desperately needed to see Jack. "Tell Jack I'll be right there."
When I opened the door to my room there was Jack standing in the hall with my mother. He was wearing an old pair of Levi's and a new white T-shirt. He had on a pair of penny loafers with no socks and looked like he had just shaved and combed his hair in a part on the side. I wondered if this was Jack's version of dressing up to shop for an apartment. It didn't really matter what he was wearing, he looked like an angel to me.
"Can you show him that upstairs apartment you talked to your father about?" my mother asked.
"Sure Mom. Follow me, Jack," I said and led the way up the hall stairs. I wanted to get away from everyone and everything except Jack as soon as I could.
Jack followed me up the two flights of stairs to the third floor. Of the six apartments up there, number 33 was the smallest and I opened it up and quickly stepped inside. It had a small living area with a kitchenette on one side, a small bedroom, and a bath with sink, stool, and an old footed tub.
It was a mess. I had helped my father clean it out so that it wasn't really dirty anymore but the walls and windows were covered with filthy words and pictures scrawled with red spray paint. Even the kitchen appliances and bathroom sink and stool had been painted.
"We had a bunch of druggies up here and when Dad made them move they were kind of pissed," I explained. "If you want to put in the work to clean things up and do some painting I think Dad will rent it to you pretty cheap, he said half price and he will supply the materials."
Jack shrugged, "It will take some work to get it looking decent but it's just paint. At least they didn't bust everything up. If your dad will rent it for something I can afford I'll be happy to have it. Living this close to the Y will let me save on gas money.”
Jack turned to leave and then looked at me for the first time since we had stepped into the apartment. I was standing in the center of the living room with my arms wrapped around my chest and I was trying not to cry. The painful memory of the man in the shower was very fresh in my mind.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Jack asked. "You look like death warmed over.”
I didn't move but I clenched my teeth together, scrunched up my eyes and felt streams of hot tears start rolling down my face. Jack stepped quickly to wrap me in his arms and press my face into his chest. "Nicky, what's wrong?" he almost whispered.
I tried to talk but all that would come out were sobs. My legs felt weak and I slumped down in Jack's arms. He held me tight and sat down on the floor holding me on his lap, patiently rocking me back and forth. After several minutes I caught my breath and tried to tell him what had happened. I told him about the man with the red Speedos. How I didn't like him very much but when he acted nice I was curious about him and followed him into the shower. How he wanted to wash my back and when I told him to stop he slammed me into the wall and hurt me really bad. I told Jack about my bloody fingers and how I puked when I woke up. Then I began to cry again.
Jack still held me but I felt him go stiff all over. He kept whispering into my ear that it was going to be OK, that he was going to take care of it. When I settled down some, Jack leaned back so he could look into my face and started quietly asking me a lot of questions about the man in the red Speedos. I couldn't remember much but thought he said his name was Bob something and that he stayed at the Y sometimes when he was in town on business. Jack made me tell him exactly what the man looked like. I told him what I could but I really didn't like thinking about it.
I tried to tell Jack that I thought it was my fault, I was curious about the man and had followed him into the shower. I felt like I had done something really stupid and maybe I deserved what happened.
"No," Jack said firmly. "No Nick, it wasn't your fault. That man had no interest in you except to use you for sex. He set you up and tricked you. He used you and hurt you and I promise you that he won't get away with it. Don't worry about Speedo man, his ass is mine."
Then Jack looked very sad, "I feel so bad for you Nick. You are too innocent to know what a man like that really wanted. You are young and just discovering your sexuality. You've had a few adventures playing with other boys, but how would you know the difference between a friend and a predator?"
"Well," I let out a long breath, "I guess now I do."
Jack kissed me on the forehead, "I'm sorry Nicky," Jack said with a catch in his voice, "I'm really sorry. I'll take care of that bastard."
He looked at me with concern. “Look, I understand your situation. I remember being your age and discovering a lot of things about life, about myself. Coming to terms with our sexuality is challenging for anybody, especially if we are gay. But you have to realize that it is just not safe to play around with any and everybody.”
I hung my head. “I know, I'm sorry. I'm never going to do sex stuff with anybody else after this.”
Jack laughed. “Of course you will, Nicky. Sex is as much a basic need as food, water, and air, and you didn't choose to be gay, that complicates things. But you need be with somebody who is appropriate for you; somebody your own age, preferably somebody who actually cares about you. This swimming pool and shower room stuff is not a great idea. Public sex is very dangerous, particularly for a boy your age.”
I sighed. “I know you're right, but I get so horny, and I don't know anybody else who is like me.”
Jack rubbed my shoulder and nodded. “I understand Nick, I really do. It's not easy being gay. It's even harder than being green,” he said, trying to make smile.
Jack leaned back and looked at me. “Maybe I can help you, Nicky. Maybe I can help you find a friend. I don't make any promises, but I might have an idea, OK?”
I laid my cheek against Jack's chest and felt safe for the first time since I left the Y. "Nicky," I said.
“What?”
"You called me Nicky. Nobody else calls me that but my mother.”
"Did I? Sorry, Nick."
"No,” I said. "I like it from you. I really like it. But just when we're alone, OK?"
"OK Nicky," Jack said with a bit of a smile. "But now I need to check on rent with your dad and then I need to run over to the Y. Don't worry about anything. Just trust me Nick - Nicky. I'm going to take care of some things for you, OK?"
"Sure, Jack. I would trust you with anything. I feel safe as long as you're holding me. Are you working tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I should be there 9:00 to 3:00. If you are at the pool I'll see you then"
I led Jack back down to the first floor and introduced him to my dad who had arrived by then. I could tell by the way Dad shook hands with Jack that he liked him and that they would work something out. I walked back to my room wondering what it would be like having Jack living in the same house with me.
When I got to the pool the next morning Jack was sitting in his folding chair with his legs stuck out in front of him crossed at the ankle, his arms folded across his chest. Kind of like God was on his throne and all was right with the world. I walked up to him and said "Hey."
"Where have you been? I've been looking for you," Jack said. “I need to talk to you.”
"Sure, what's up?" I said, feeling a little anxious.
Jack led me into the little office that the pool attendants used. "Well, first of all, I worked out a deal with your dad about the apartment. I can move in as soon as I can get it livable and continue to remodel after I'm in. He won't charge me for the first month, and then it will be half price until I get it fixed up, at least for the first 6 months, and he will pay for all the tools and material. It's a sweet deal at least for 6 months."
"That's great. Knowing my dad, if you do a good job with it he'll find something else for you to remodel after the first 6 months." I grinned at Jack, "I can't believe you are going to be living in the same apartment house with me."
Jack smiled, "Yeah, that will be nice won't it?"
"So is that it?" I asked.
"No," Jack said with a hard look in his eyes. "There is something else I need to tell you. Your Speedo man is Robert Thompson and he lives in South Tulsa, not out of town. He spends a couple of nights here at the YMCA whenever his wife goes out of town. He has a previous arrest for child molestation and the mere fact that he is staying in the Y and entering facilities used by minor boys is a violation of the terms of his probation. Mr. Thompson is presently a guest of the Tulsa City-County jail just down the street from here. I did some checking around last night and came up with quite a bit on Mr. Thompson. He has been a regular here for some time and the authorities were just looking for an incident to pull the trigger. Now that they have it, he's in deep shit."
I felt a cold wave of dread sweep over me. "Does that mean I will have to tell people what happened to me? Will I have to go to court and stuff? I haven't even told my folks. That would be embarrassing."
Jack smiled, "If that happens you will have to get in line behind 3 other boys. Mr. Thompson had a very busy visit this time. Two of the boys are brothers 8 and 9 and their father is an attorney who would like nothing better than to gut Thompson like a carp. Don't worry Nicky, you won't have to get into this. Thompson will end up doing some hard time and child molesters are the lowest of the low in prisons. I mean he will do HARD time."
I looked at Jack. He began to move sideways and the space around his head was filled with blue and yellow flashing lights. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again I was looking at Jack's face and behind him was a panel of fluorescent lights. It took me a minute to figure out that I was lying on the floor of Jack's little office. Next to Jack was the other attendant and they were both staring intently at me.
"I think he's OK," Jack said. "He just went out for a minute." The attendant nodded and went back to the pool to blow his whistle and tell everybody they could get back in the water.
"How's it going, Nicky?" Jack asked.
"What happened?"
Jack chuckled, "I think you had a circuit overload and blew a fuse. In other words, you fainted.”
"I never did that before," I said.
"Well," Jack sniffed, "You may never have had 24 hours quite like the last one.”
"Thanks, I'm glad you were here." I said, "I mean, not just when I fainted, but... You know. Thanks for being here Jack. I love you."
"Right, well, me too, no problem," Jack sniffed, blinked, put his hands under my arms and helped me to my feet. He held me for a minute to steady me, and said, "Well, I'll be around if you want to talk. You should probably tell your folks about this, but I'll leave that up to you."
I nodded and said, "I know where your apartment is, and I'm a pretty good fixer upper. Maybe I can help some."
"I'm counting on it," Jack said. "Now get out of here, I've got work to do."
The next Saturday was spent helping Jack clean up his apartment.
We spent most of a hot August day brushing on paint remover and scraping, and most of the graffiti was gone from the kitchen appliances and bathroom fixtures. Jack was able to move in on Sunday night with the help of one of the other lifeguards from the YMCA and me. They were 18 and I was only 13 so I mostly carried boxes and held doors. He didn't have much, just a double bed, a dresser and an old couch that he got from his folks. It all fit into the back of his pickup in a single load.
I sat in the middle of the truck seat while Jack took his friend home and stayed there on the way back to the apartment. I pushed myself under his shoulder and he obliged by raising his arm and wrapping it around me.
"Can I spend the night in your apartment?" I asked.
"Whoa, Nicky," Jack said, " I don't even know where my sheets and stuff are. I'll be up half the night getting things sorted out. Besides, I don't think your parents would care for that idea. We'll have plenty of time together after I get moved in."
I knew he was right so I didn't say anything, but I was excited. When we got to the apartment, Jack parked behind the building in his slot and turned off the engine. I buried my head under his chin and hugged him as hard as I could. Jack hugged me back and kissed me on top of my head.
"Well, can I come up and help you unpack?" I asked.
"No," he said gently, "it's after 10 o'clock and I'll see you tomorrow." Jack rubbed his big hand up and down my ribs and made me sweat in the warm night air. "Come on, let's go."
I followed him into the back of the building as far as the stairs where he stopped me by raising his eyebrows.
"Good night Nicky."
"Good night Jack," I said.
I let myself into my apartment where my parents and brother Kevin were watching the news on TV. As soon as the newscast was over, it was bedtime. That was the rule.
"Did Jack get moved in?" Dad asked.
Yes sir," I answered. We got the kitchen and bathroom fixtures cleaned up and his stuff moved in. He'll start on the walls next week."
"He seems like a nice boy," my mother said.
"He is," I replied.
Later in bed, I laid in the warm darkness listening to Kevin breathe and tried to imagine Jack as a boy. I wondered what he looked like when he was 13 like me or 11 like my brother. Was there a time when he was skinny and hairless? Was there a time when he was not a head taller than me and when his hands were not large and strong? I thought of his deep chest with its dark silky hair, his thick arms, the stubble on his chin, and tried to imagine Jack as a little boy.
I looked at the clock as soon as I woke and saw it was 7:30 in the morning. Dad would already be gone to work and mother was in the apartment somewhere. Kevin was still asleep. I wanted to see Jack.
I pulled on some cutoffs and a T-shirt and stuck my feet into a pair of sneakers. Mom was at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee and reading the Tulsa World. The coffee gave me an idea.
"Good morning Mom," I said. "Do you think it would be OK if I took Jack a cup of coffee?"
"Well, it's all right with me. Do you think he would like some toast? There is the bread and you know how to operate the toaster," she smiled.
What a great idea. I dropped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster and poured a cup of coffee while it was cooking. I put a gob of butter and grape jelly on one side of a plate then sliced the toast and put it and the knife in the middle. Up two flights of stairs I went, with the coffee in one hand and the plate in the other.
When I got up to Jack's room I knocked on the door with the edge of my shoe and nothing happened. I knocked again a little harder and the door swung open a little. I pushed it open with my foot and peeked inside. From the front door, I could see all of the little apartment, the living room with its old couch and pile of assorted boxes, the kitchenette on one side and the little bedroom on the other. Through the bedroom door I could see Jack asleep on the bed with stacks of folded clothes on the dresser whose drawers were hanging open.
I pushed the door shut behind me and walked very quietly into Jack's bedroom. He had sheets on the bed but was lying on top of them in a pair of boxer shorts. The bed was in the corner between two windows and Jack looked like he had collapsed on the bed worn out and sweaty, trying to get a little air. It was cooler now in the morning and Jack was sound asleep on his side facing me with his arms wrapped around the pillow under his head. His hair stood out at odd angles where it had dried in the night, and his face had a contented peaceful look on it.
"Good morning Jack," I said quietly so as not to startle him. Nothing happened. I put my foot on the edge of the mattress and bounced it a little, saying good morning a little louder.
Jack took a deep breath and held it, never moving, then he slowly opened his eyes and exhaled.
"Nicky," he declared quietly, then smiled and said "Good morning," extending his arms and legs, arching his back and stretching like a big cat. "What have you got?"
"I brought you some breakfast," I said, holding up the plate and the cup.
"What a guy," Jack said, smiling broadly now. "Breakfast in bed, I can't beat that." And with that, he sat up and yawned. "I don't mean to be ungrateful, but I have to pee first."
Jack got up and stepped into the little bathroom. I could hear the sound of a long steady stream followed by a flush and the sound of water running in the sink. In a moment Jack came back and sat on the edge of the bed. He had washed his face and hands and combed his hair. I had not moved but stood there waiting with the plate and cup still in my hands. Finally, Jack reached out and took them.
"Thank you," Jack said, took a sip of the coffee, set it on the dresser, balanced the plate on his knee, began to butter his toast and spread it will the grape jelly. "Great toast. My compliments to the chef."
I smiled very big and said, "I made it."
"Of course you did," Jack said, nodding his head solemnly and munching his toast, stopping several times to sip some coffee. I sat cross-legged on the floor at his feet and watched him devour my creation, feeling very proud. When he finished, he drained the last of the coffee, placed the plate next to the cup on the dresser and smiled at me. "Thank you, Nicky."
I sat a moment longer with my arms crossed on my knees and my chin resting on my arms, just watching Jack. Then I stood up, placed my hands under his arms and insinuated myself onto his lap with his arms around me. His face was scratchy with the stubble of a day's beard and his breath smelled like coffee and grape jelly.
It was wonderful being with Jack like this; in his bed, feeling the cool morning air moving over us, seeing him so clearly in the light from the window. I closed my eyes again and breathed in all the scents of the place: the coffee and jelly, the musk from Jack's dried sweat, the trace of aftershave from the day before, the smell of damp grass from the lot below. I would know Jack's smell from anyone else's. I wondered if I had a scent. I didn't suppose one could smell his own scent.
"Get off me," Jack said and scooted me off onto the floor.
Jack looked at his watch. "You need to get back before your mother wonders what you're up to, and I need to see if the shower works and get ready to go."
"Will you be at the pool today?" I asked.
"No, I have to go to the college to complete my enrollment. Classes start in only 2 weeks. I will be a freshman this year at the University of Tulsa," Jack said with a note of pride in his voice.
"That's really cool Jack, I'm happy for you. I hope that everything works out for you like you want it to. I guess I'll be there someday," I said a little wistfully.
Jack hesitated for a moment then said, "Well, you are here right now, and that will have to be enough. Now scoot." Jack stood up, fished a clean pair of khakis from the stack on the dresser and walked into the bathroom. "Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out," then in a softer tone, "I'll see you later, Nicky."
I picked up the plate and cup and walked slowly down the stairs to my apartment. Mom was doing laundry, Kevin was lying on the sofa like a slug, and I had just served my hero Jack breakfast in bed.
"Where have you been for so long? It's after 9 o'clock," my mother asked as I walked back into our apartment.
"I took Jack some coffee and toast," I answered.
"That took an hour?” Mothers kept track of things like that.
"We were just talking," I said.
"That boy has things to do. You don't need to be bothering him all the time."
"I wasn't bothering him really," I insisted. He appreciated the toast and coffee and I just talked to him while he ate."
"You and Kevin need to clean up your room. I'm doing laundry and need all your dirty clothes, and I want all that junk on the floor put away and the carpet swept. I have enough to do around here without providing maid service for you lazy boys."
We seem to have changed the subject to a more familiar topic which I took to indicate that she wasn't particularly worried about Jack. The dirty laundry and the state of our room was a running battle that was a perpetual stalemate. There was only one acceptable reply. "Yes ma'am," I said, looking over at the sofa where Kevin was looking back at me through lowered eyelids. "Let's go," I said to Kevin.
Kevin pulled himself up from the sofa with his usual lack of enthusiasm. Sharing a room meant that we had to share the chore of cleaning it. Neither of us could agree on what part of the mess belonged to whom, so it was just easier to do it together.
"How do you know Jack?" Kevin asked after we got to the bedroom.
"He is a lifeguard at the Y. You know that. He's a really neat guy."
"He's big," Kevin observed. "How come you and him are such good friends?"
"He's the guy who taught me how to swim last year and I see him all the time. You would too if you could ever drag yourself off the sofa and come over to the YMCA."
To tell the truth, I really was kind of glad that Kevin didn't come to the Y with me. I loved sports and all kinds of physical activity. Kevin was not much interested in sports and spent a lot of his time on the sofa. I ribbed him about being a couch potato but to tell the truth, he read as much as he watched TV, and the books he read were not kid-stuff. Kevin was bright and did better in school that I did. One of my arguments was that he needed to get in better shape, but the fact was that he was very trim.
Kevin took after my dad and was naturally kind of muscular, not buffed but filled out in all the right places. He was very lean and would eventually be taller than me, although I was up on him a couple of inches at the time. Also like my father, Kevin didn't have a lot to say. He wasn't shy, he was just more of an observer. He was a tow-head when he was little but now his hair was light brown and would probably darken as he got older. That's what Mom said.
Like me and like Dad, Kevin was uncut although I rarely saw him naked. I tended to be very casual about my state of undress but Kevin was naturally rather modest. He didn't make a big deal out of it but it was his style to change clothes in the bathroom when he showered, and if he changed in the room with me he usually turned around. I had never thought about him in sexual terms, he was just my little brother, but I was beginning to look at a lot of things differently now. I wasn't really interested in him sexually, just curious.
I took after my mother. She gave me my red hair. I think she was probably a carrot top when she was younger, but now the shade varied with her attempts to cover the gray hair that had started to show up a few years ago. Mom was a little plump. I think I might have been too if I was not so active. Mom was also more outgoing than Dad and I got that from her too. I guess maybe what they say about redheads is true.
"You were up in that guy's room a long time this morning," Kevin said out of nowhere, derailing my train of thought.
"So?" I responded while sorting through the stack of dirty clothes on my bed. A quick flash of anxiety hit me as I thought about my time with Jack that morning. I wondered where Kevin was going with this.
"Well, he is a lot older than you."
"He's 18."
"Really? I thought he was older than that," Kevin said. I began to get the feeling that Kevin was not trying to give me a hard time. It was more like he was a little concerned about me. I had not mentioned the incident with the older man at the Y, but it was always on my mind.
I stopped sorting through the clothes to look at Kevin. "Jack is a really nice guy, If you knew him better you would like him a lot. Now that he's living here you'll see what I mean."
Kevin looked at me and nodded as if reassured. "Cool. Sure, that's great."
We finished the room without any more non-essential conversation but I was left understanding a couple of things. First that my little brother cared more about me than I realized, and second that he was watching.
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To be continued.
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