Thanks to all those who are reading/reviewing/alerting etc. my latest fic.

This is unbeta'd and not pre-read by anyone. All mistakes are my own.

MA: This story will have explicit and lemony scenes. If boy x boy relations offend you please don't read any further.

Characters belong to S. Meyer.

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[year: 2000 – Jasper age 13]

"Aren't ya gonna answer that?" Thomas asked.

It was understandable why he wondered. The phone had been ringing on and off for the last five minutes. Each time it would transfer to voice mail and there would be a pause, then it would start up again. The repeated ringing was getting on my fucking nerves.

"You know who it is?" my friend questioned.

Of course I fuckin' do.

It was my dad and I had shit to say to him.

"It's my dad. I don't wanna talk to the asshole."

"Your parents gettin' divorced?"

Thomas' parents separated when we were in grade two. Him and his sisters split their time between two houses. Luckily his parents are okay to each other and they agreed to live in the same neighborhood.

"Somethin' like that. They were never married, but yeah they aren't together anymore."

It was nice to tell someone a bit of what was going on. I couldn't tell Thomas the whole story; it would sound too much like a Jerry Springer episode.

In some ways I was lucky.

Most likely the real story would never make the gossip circuit at school. No one knew my dad's last name, my friends have always called him Mr. Whitlock, and he'd only spent the odd weekend with us, so my friends never got to know him.

Hell, I didn't apparently fuckin' know the guy either.

"That's tough," Thomas commiserated. "Your dad's fault?"

The phone started ringing again and we looked at each other and smiled.

"Why woulda think that?" I said deadpanning.

We'd been friends for years and Thomas knew me well. I held a serious face for all of two seconds and then we laughed together.

"Yeah," I coughed. My smile quickly wiped away as I measured how much I wanted to share. These days I couldn't stay lighthearted for long. "He's got another woman." And another kid.

"Oh shit." Thomas' expression turned somber again. "Are ya gonna hafta move?"

"Naw, he's always travelled a lot for work and that won't be changin'. I'll be stayin' with Momma as I always have."

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"Did ya see how Ashley was dressed this mornin'?"

"No," Tracey responded, shifting toward me in anticipation of a good story.

I always had the most excellent stories. My ear was always to the ground.

There were five of us hanging out together below the willow tree next to the football field. We were waiting for Coach to call out how many laps he'd want us to run this afternoon. Three of us went to Northbrook Middle School and the other two were from Sacred Heart. We'd all grown up playing Pop Warner football and had been on the same team since Junior Pee Wee. Tracey had only just squeaked under the weight limit for Midget this season. We'd probably be split up for the first time next year because he was such a monster.

""Her ass was hangin' out of the shorts she was wearin' and Van Buren made her change before the first bell. That's why she was wearin' those crappy lookin' sweatpants. Van Buren fished them out of the lost and found box."

She really had looked idiotic. The pants were huge on her and had unidentifiable stains in odd places. Eck. I shivered with revulsion.

"Fuck no, how'd I miss that?" Tracey complained.

"You miss everythin' bro," I commented. Tracey was quick on the field, or when it came to eating, but with anything else he was slow as fuck.

"How much of her ass coulda see?" Corey asked. He was one of the Sacred Heart boys and he probably didn't even know who I was talking about. Thirteen year old boys were the worst for living vicariously through each others' experiences, probably because so few of us actually experienced anything worthwhile for ourselves.

"Enough to know she couldn't have pulled it off with anythin' other than a thong, or maybe she was goin' commando," I smirked, knowing the reaction I was going to get from my friends.

"Fuuuuck," moaned Dillon. "Did ya pop a boner? I don't think I coulda seen a good lookin' girls' naked ass cheeks and not had some sorta reaction."

"Nope," I popped the 'p' as I answered. I'd been waiting for the right time to tell my friends I was gay, but it was awkward and I didn't know how to bring it up. For the moment I lived with dropping all kinds of hints. "She's not my type."

"Shit, you got better control than most of us," admitted Tracey. "I don't have a type when it comes to seein' an ass. Any chick's ass, well except maybe a fat cow like Jordan," he shook his head in disgust at the image he must have provoked in himself. "And Ashley has a grade 'A' ass. Last week I had to hide a stiffy when Crystal bent over to pick up her pencil in Math class, and she doesn't have an ass like Ashley."

Soon they were all coming up with stories about boners in embarrassing situations.

If I had wanted to participate I'd have to make up a story, or tell them one that involved Matt and showering after gym class. They weren't fucking ready for that kind of sharing. Damn, it was depressing to think they might never be. My momma was the only one who knew my fucking secret. I'd told her when I was eleven and she was completely supportive.

"Yo guys, I want three laps pronto," yelled Coach Roy, interrupting the discussion that had unfortunately evolved into what girls had the nicest boobs.

Even though three was a reasonable amount, and there were times Coach would have us run six or more, we all still grumbled and complained as we stood up and stretched.

When I started to run I glanced over at my friends, guys I'd known practically my whole life, and wondered which ones would stick by me when I came out.

Would I still be friends with any of them in high school?

At Northbrook, there were the typical suspects people whispered about as being gay, probably as many as any other public middle school. Sometimes they were harassed or the term 'fag' got thrown around, but most days our school was generally respectful. I didn't know firsthand if any of those guys really were gay, and I didn't have that much interest in finding out. In truth, I didn't hang around the nerdy or artsy crowd and you didn't hear whispers about the guys I hung around, the jocks.

All through middle school I've had to listen to guys mooning over girls and hear their stories of hitting first or second base, even the occasional home run. Never have I had anything to share, nor do I imagine would my friends want to hear about it even if I did.

The worst days were those leading up to a school dance. Usually it was only one or two of the guys talking about their current girlfriend or an upcoming 'date', but when a dance was coming up it was everywhere. I couldn't escape the talk or energy that was chock full of hope and anticipation. Often times those were the days I feigned sick and stayed home to chill by myself. Momma was very understanding as long as I didn't fall behind in my school work.

Middle school was a lonely and fucking discouraging three years for me, it didn't matter that I was popular and had lots of friends.

Was it too much to ask that my high school experience be different?

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