When Mom came downstairs I told her about the call.

“Mom, John Gibbs called. He wants to come over tonight and wants you to call him back now, I guess to confirm the time.”

“I wonder what he wants to talk about.”

“He said he talked to Quin’s attorney this morning, actually he said they met for a long time, and he wants to talk about that. And he has information about the plea bargains.”

“Alright. I’ll phone him now. Do you have anything planned for this evening?”

“No, just homework. Nate’s going to stop by after school and I hope he’ll have my Web Design textbook.”

“Alright then, I’ll tell John to come by at seven. That will give us plenty of time to finish eating dinner. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure. No problem.”

“It’s almost eleven thirty. What would you like for lunch?”

“Something hot. Maybe soup?”

“Sure. Let’s see what we have.” Mom walked over and opened the cabinet next to the stove. “We have chicken with wild rice; split pea, the kind with carrots and potatoes; and clam chowder.”

“How about the clam chowder. It’s the white kind, right?”

“Yes. Tell you what, you open the can and pour it into the pan and get it started on medium-low. I’ll return John Gibbs’ call.”

“Sorry, Mom, I won’t be able to open the can.” I held up my right arm and wiggled the fingers on that hand. ”With only one hand there’s no way I could open the pop-top on the can.”

“Oh, sorry, Brian. I forgot about that. Just rinse the top of the can and set the table. I’ll be back in a minute and take care of it.”

I really wanted to listen in to the conversation between Mom and Mr. Gibbs. But no way was I ballsy enough to pick up the extension next to the kitchen sink. My laptop and books were on the table where I’d left them, so I put the laptop in hibernate mode and put it and my books in my backpack and set it aside.

I got the soup can ready for her to open and pulled out the pan she normally used for soup. I set the table, and got out a bag of pita chips. I like them with soup, especially clam chowder. I also like pepper in my clam chowder, so I pulled that out and put it on the table. By the time I finished Mom came back to the kitchen.

“John Gibbs will be here at seven. Like you said, he wants to tell us about the plea bargains for Tom Calloway and Quin Santoni. He said that Gianni Santoni, Quin’s father, has a proposal that he wants us to consider. John will be here with Mr. Santoni’s attorney this evening.”

“Whoa. I wonder what that’s all about. Maybe it has something to do with what Mr. Santoni wanted to talk to me about last week. Remember, he came over when you were out shopping and Nate came along just in time to make him leave?”

“Yes, I do remember that. This all seems strange to me.”

“To me too,” I replied. “Are you going to call Dad and let him know?”

“Yes, right now.” She left me in the kitchen to make the call. When she returned she got the soup ready for lunch and we sat down to eat. I took one spoonful of soup and the phone rang and I started to get up.

“I’ll get it, Brian.” Mom got up and answered the kitchen phone. She didn’t like to use it because where the builder installed the jack was on the other side of the kitchen sink and there was no place to sit down.

“Brian, it’s for you. It’s Mr. Field from your school.”

“Okay, I’ll take it in the family room.”

“Hi, Mr. Field.”

“Hello, Brian. I hope I’m not interrupting your lunch. Nate Mead stopped by and picked up your textbook. I wanted to ask if you have an account on the school server so you can post your web pages so I can review and grade them.”

“Uh, no, I didn’t know I'd need that. But I have a server here at home, or actually it’s my dad’s server, and I have my website there. If it’s okay I could post the web pages for the Web Design class on that server.”

“That would be fine with me. I’d need FTP access so I can look at how you code each project; could that be arranged?”

“Sure, I can create an FTP account for you.”

“We normally create subsites for the students, using the last and first names separated by a dash. Can you set up a subsite using your name under your site?”

“Sure. I can set it up this afternoon, and I’ll email the FTP login and password to you along with the URL for my class subsite under my personal domain.”

Mr. Field laughed. “I’m not sure you’re going to learn much in my class, Brian. You already know how to do fairly complicated tasks.”

“I don’t agree. There’s lots I don’t know about designing web sites, and I always like to learn new things. I’m really looking forward to the Web Design 2 class.”

“Alright then. If there’s anything you need, or want to talk about, either email or phone me. Also be sure to use the class forum. The link is in the class section on Blackboard.”

“I will. And thanks for letting me take your class part way through the semester and without taking Web Design 1 first.”

“You’re welcome, Brian. I’m looking forward to getting your assignments. Talk to you later. Bye.”

“Bye, Mr. Field.”

Mom had put my soup back in the pan, and when she saw I was finished talking to Mr. Field she filled my bowl.

“You better eat, Brian, so you have time to digest your lunch.”

“Okay.”

I dug in and finished my lunch in about five minutes. Hey, I’m a fast eater. I helped Mom clean up our lunch dishes then pulled out my laptop and books. The first things I did were to set up anderson-brian as a subsite under my domain name, and create a user ID and password for Mr. Field. I emailed the information to him. I’d get to the homework for the class once I had the textbook.

The time sort of dragged while I tried to stay focused on my English book, working on the reading exercises at the end of each chapter.

The doorbell rang, and as I stood I looked up at the clock. Exactly two p.m. It was Larry Tefford here for my physical therapy session. I let him in.

“Hey, Larry.”

“Hi, Brian. You ready for some real exercises today?”

“Sure. Let’s get started. Let’s take it a little easy.” But that isn’t what we did. We used the bands to exercise my legs, my abs, and my right arm. I won’t go into all of the gory details of what came next, with Larry pulling one way and the band pulling the other, or Larry making me stand on one foot and pull against a band with the raised foot, or Larry making me sit, then stand, then move to a halfway between standing and sitting and holding that position as long as I could. And there’s more but it’s too grisly to describe.

Finally, he handed me some papers with diagrams of the exercises, and I heard those wonderful words, “Okay, Brian. That’s all for today. You did very well.” He pointed to the pages I was holding. “Now, every day starting tomorrow I want you to do these same exercises. A week from today we’ll see how you’ve progressed.”

We said our goodbyes and I watched Larry walk down our walk to his car. I was in so much pain I could barely make it up the stairs to my bedroom and flop across my bed. So much for ‘Let’s take it a little easy!’

The only thing I wanted to do is go to sleep. But I hurt so much I couldn’t fall asleep. I climbed off my bed and stumbled into the bathroom and found the bottle of ibuprofen tablets. I took out four of them and swallowed them all at once with a glass of water. I went back to my bedroom and pulled the bedspread off and dumped it on the floor. Mom would have kittens when she saw that, but in my current state of pain I didn’t care. I climbed between the sheets and laid there praying that I could go to sleep. I guess I did because the next thing that happened is that Mom stood by the side of my bed.

I heard her calling, “Brian, Brian, wake up. Nate is here.”

I pried my eyes open and moaned.

“I’m so sore. I think Larry tried to kill me.”

“Would you rather not see Nate?”

“No, that’s fine. Can you send him up? Maybe I’ll just stay in bed and talk to him from here.”

Mom moved to her right and I saw Nate standing in back of her. He looked worried.

“What’s the matter, Brian? Are you sick?”

“No. My physical therapy guy had me do things I guess I’m not ready to do, and I’ve never been so sore in my life.”

Nate turned to Mom. “Do you have some body oil? Or baby oil? Something I can use to help me massage Brian’s muscles? I learned exercise and massage the past two summers working at Renaissance Sports. I figured that would be good to know when I’m taking my orthopedics classes in college.”

“Let me see what I can find.” Mom headed out of my room.

“What sort of exercises did he have you do?”

I explained everything we did this afternoon, and which ones bothered me the most.

Nate sat alongside me. “You’re really sore?”

“Yeah. I really have never hurt so much. I think Larry went too far today.” I tried to turn onto my side. I moaned, loudly, and fell back the way I had been lying on my back.

“Exercise should never hurt that much. We’re going to have to talk to him about what he’s doing. You’ve been in the hospital since when, February eleventh?” I nodded my head. “So you haven’t been exercising for over two weeks, actually almost two and a half weeks. And actually, you haven’t been moving. And you were badly injured. He’s having you do way too much way too soon. You have his card?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure where it is. I’ve got his phone number on my cell.” I reached into my pocket and pulled it out with a moan and handed it to Nate. “It’s in contacts.”

I watched as Nate picked Larry’s number and click on it. There was a pause then I heard Nate talking to Larry. He stepped away as Mom came in with a bottle of baby oil and put it on my nightstand. Baby oil? Why did she have that?

Nate came back and held my cell out to me.

“Just put it on the nightstand, okay?”

Nate turned to Mom. “Mrs. Anderson, Brian was put through a program of exercises that he isn’t ready to do. Considering how long he was in the hospital he’s too weak to do strenuous exercises and he’s in a lot of pain from what he did today. I hope you don’t mind, but I made an appointment to meet with Larry Tefford at your house tonight a little after eight thirty when he’s finished with his last client. I’d like you and Brian and your husband to sit in, and I’ll explain Brian’s condition and we’ll set up a tailored program that’s much less rigorous. Brian should never be in the kind of pain from his exercises that he’s experiencing right now. Is that okay?”

“Yes, of course. I didn’t realize that Brian was in pain. He came upstairs after his physical therapy session and didn’t say anything to me.”

“Mom, all I wanted to do is go to bed. I was so sore I took four ibuprofens and came in and just about died right here in my bed.”

“I can do some gentle massage on Brian’s sore muscles, if that’s okay with both of you. Brian, you should feel a lot better afterward.”

“If it’s alright with Brian, it’s alright with me. I’ll go downstairs and start getting dinner ready. Nate, if you need me, just call downstairs, okay?”

“Sure, Mrs. Anderson.”

Mom left my room and Nate picked up the bottle of baby oil. “This’ll do. I’ll need a couple of towels and a washcloth. Where can I get them?”

“If you go out my bedroom door you’ll be facing a counter with some cabinets underneath. Use the towels and whatever you need that you’ll find in the cabinet that’s at the right end.”

Nate returned with a pile of towels and several washcloths.

“Where’s it hurt, Brian?”

“Everywhere. My legs, my butt, my stomach, my shoulders, my neck, and my arms. And I had a headache, but that’s gone.”

“Probably the ibuprofen that took care of that. Okay, you hurt all over. I know this is going to hurt some more, but we need to get you completely undressed so I can massage you. Also, I want to put towels down on your bed so we won’t get any of the oil on your sheet and mattress. Can you stand up?” I nodded a yes. “I’ll help you up, then I’ll lay the towels on your bed. If it’s alright I’ll help you undress and get back in bed. Okay?”

I grinned. “Is this part of the perving you said you’d be doing?” I realized this was kind of a lame attempt at humor, but I thought it was funny.

“No, that will come later when you’re not expecting it. You have some serious pain, and what’s important now is trying to make you comfortable so you can get some sleep tonight.”

“Sorry, Nate. I was just kidding about the perving thing.”

“I know. My focus is on making you feel better, okay?”

“Okay.”

Nate helped me get out of bed. I was okay standing. He spread out six towels on my bottom sheet so they overlapped, three across by two down the long way.

“Let’s start undressing you. Since you’re standing I’ll pull your sweatpants and underwear down, then I’ll help you sit down and I’ll take off your shoes and socks, pull your underwear and sweats off, and take off your T-shirt. I’ll help you lie down and roll onto your stomach. I’ll start on your back because when I’m finished with that I’ll roll you over and finish massaging your front. You’re going to feel like going to sleep, and since you’ll be lying on your back all I’ll have to do is wipe off any oil and pull the top sheet and blanket over you. Does that sound like a deal?”

“Yeah. Would you do one thing first and close my bedroom door?”

Nate walked to my door and closed it.

“Will you be using the baby oil?”

“Yeah, just a little on my hands to keep your skin from getting irritated when I’m massaging you. Ready to get started?”

“Yes.”

Nate undressed me. I wasn’t embarrassed about him seeing my family jewels because I was much too sore to care. When I was lying face down he started lightly rubbing my sore muscles, kneading them gently. Oh my god, did that fee wonderful. He started at my ankles, then my calves, my thighs, my butt and hips, my back, my shoulders, my right arm, and finally my neck. Then he moved down from my neck to my ankles. He’d ask me if what he did hurt, and if I wanted him to massage longer at some spot in particular. I could tell that he wasn’t using a lot of oil on his hands, just enough to make them glide smoothly over my skin. It felt absolutely fantastic.

While none of what he did could be described as erotic, I had a major hard on. So when he said it was time to roll onto my back I got so embarrassed that he could tell that I was blushing even though he couldn't see my face.

“Brian, if you have an erection don’t worry about it. I’ve seem ‘em before, I’ll see ‘em again. All guys get them.”

“Okay. I guess.”

Nate helped me roll onto my back. I looked at his face, and he didn’t grin or giggle or stare. He didn’t say anything either. He started at my ankles again, and worked his way up. To my disappointment he skipped my groin area, but at that point I felt so totally relaxed that I didn’t have an erection. He went from my thighs to my hips, then my abs, then each of my arms then on to my shoulders and neck. He reversed and went down ending at my ankles.

“Is that enough?”

“No.”

“What would you like me to massage again?”

“The part you skipped over.” I laughed when I saw his expression.

“I don’t think so, Brian. This isn’t the appropriate time or place. What I want you to do now is get some sleep.” With that he wiped me down with a clean towel, pulled my top sheet and blanket over me, kissed me on my forehead, and left my bedroom leaving the door open behind him.

“Hey!” I shouted.

He hurried back. “What’s wrong?”

“You gonna stay for dinner?”

“No, I’ve gotta get home. I’ll come back around eight fifteen so I’ll be here before Larry Tefford gets here. I have homework to do and since you’re about to fall asleep I might as well do it at home. Oh, yeah, I have your Web Design textbook.” He reached into his backpack and pulled out an oversize book and put it on my desk. “Mr. Field told me to tell you to enjoy.”

“Great. It looks like it weighs about a hundred pounds.”

“I’ll see you later Brian. I’ll let your Mom know that you’re about to take a nap.”

“Thanks, Nate. I can’t tell you how much better I feel.”

“Don’t overdo. Your muscles and joints were stressed today. You need to take it easy to let them get back to normal. When I come by tomorrow we’ll do another massage session then see if you need any more beyond that. I’ll see you later.”

I think that I fell asleep before Nate left my room. I slept soundly, and I didn’t remember having any dreams. Dad woke me, and I found myself lying on my right side.

“Hey, Brian. Time for dinner.”

I rolled onto my back and blinked a few time to bring Dad into focus.

“Hi. What time is it?”

“Six on the dot. Dinner awaits. Are you ready to come down now?”

“No. I don’t think you want to see a naked teenager coming downstairs for dinner, and I don’t want to be that naked teenager. Nate gave me a massage and it felt so wonderful. Anyway, I had to get completely undressed. He used baby oil on his hands so I need to take a shower before I get dressed.”

“Your mom told me all about your massage. Nate filled her in before he left. Seems that your PT guy overdid your exercises today. Nate told her that he learned how to do full body massages, and he worked over your muscles to get the blood circulating and help reduce the swelling and thus the pain.”

“That makes it sound like he did some heavy duty kind of massage, but it wasn’t that way at all. He was totally gentle and worked out the soreness in all of my muscles. It felt so wonderful.”

“I’m glad he helped you. Do you need a hand getting up?”

“No, I feel pretty good. I’ll be down in a few minutes, as soon as I take a quick shower and get dressed.”

“If you do need a hand, just holler, okay?”

“Okay.”

Dad headed downstairs and I got up. I could tell that I still had sore muscles in some places, but nothing like the pain I’d had right after Larry left. I slipped on the plastic bag I'd been using on my left arm and took a real quick shower since I didn’t have time to do anything more. Just to make sure I didn't smell I sprayed on some cologne. I got dressed in clean clothes and joined my folks for dinner.

We talked about what John Gibbs wanted to tell us, and about Nate coming over to meet with me and Larry Tefford. My folks felt it would be less like a firing squad if Nate and I met with Larry and they stayed out if it unless we felt that we needed their help.

After we ate we watched a little TV while we waited for my attorney to arrive. The doorbell finally rang and Dad let in John Gibbs and a man I didn’t recognize. I assumed that would be Mr. Santoni’s attorney. For some reason I remembered that his name was Ralph Westerley. Maybe because there was a Westerley High School in our league. We were introduced and I had correctly recalled his name.

John started the meeting.

“Ralph Westerley is representing both Quinten Santoni and his father Gianni Santoni. Tonight he has his Gianni Santoni hat on. What I’d like to do is turn the meeting over to Ralph because he should tell you what is being proposed without any filtering by me which might just get in the way and confuse the proposal. So if it’s okay, I’ll turn this meeting over to Ralph.”

“First, Mr. Gianni Santoni, Quinten Santoni’s father, wants to apologize to you, Brian, and to your parents, for what his son did to you. It is unconscionable. Mr. Santoni and his wife, to that regard, want to make up at least in part for what their son has done. They want to pay for your attorney’s fees in full, and provide funds in the form of a one hundred thousand dollar scholarship to help pay for Brian Anderson’s college education. To obviate any possible conflict of interest, your attorney’s fees will be paid to you as a reimbursement following the end of the trial, including an additional thirty percent to help cover the cost of federal and Oklahoma state income taxes on the rebate amount. To calculate the base rebate amount, you will provide copies of the statements from the law firm of Gibbs, Forintino, and Levington to my firm, Westerly Law PLC. The Santonis do not expect anything in return for providing these funds and the scholarship.”

I sat there dumbfounded. I would get a one hundred thousand dollar scholarship? Amazing! I looked at my folks, and they seemed as amazed as me.

“So,” Dad said, “what do we have to do to get these funds?”

“For Brian Anderson, his parents have to sign a Memorandum of Understanding that outlines how the scholarship fund is set up including naming of the Trustee and the Account Manager, and how payments for qualified college expenses will be disbursed, and how the tax consequences of non-qualified disbursements will be handled. For the attorney fee rebate payable jointly to Mr. Greg Anderson and Mrs. Phyllis Anderson, you will need to review the terms of the agreement. I recommend that you engage Mr. John Gibbs to review these terms and make sure that you understand them. Do you have any questions?”

“Yes,” Dad replied, “several questions that I want to discuss confidentially with Mr. Gibbs.”

“That’s fine. If you don’t have any questions for me at this time, I’ll leave so you can discuss these offers with Mr. Gibbs.”

“I have a question,” I said. “Is this scholarship limited to colleges in Oklahoma?”

“No, it’s unlimited and can be applied to any accredited university anywhere in the United States, and with prior approval of the Trustee of the account, to any university anywhere in the world. Does that answer your question, Brian?”

“Uh... one more question. That means if I selected U.C. Berkeley it would be covered?”

“If you went to U.C. Berkeley your tuition, fees, books, dorms, and meal plans would be covered by the scholarship.”

“Just one more question, if it’s okay. What about grades? Do I have to have a specific grade point average in high school to qualify, and a specific grade point average in college to keep the scholarship or make withdrawals?”

“There’s no tracking of scores or GPA related to anything in the Terms and Conditions. The only requirement is that you will have to be registered and attend each semester. Any other questions, Brian?”

“Is this only for undergrad or will it cover grad school too?”

“Both, but to a maximum of one hundred thousand dollars. Now, do you have more questions, Brian?” He grinned.

“Hmmm....” He laughed, but I continued, “Nope. Not at this time.”

Ralph Westerley left and John Gibbs watched us. My folks and I were smiling and looking at each other.

“Okay,” John stated, “Brian, what do you think about this scholarship offer?”

“Sounds good to me, but I guess I’d like your opinion. And I guess my folks have to agree in order for me to get this scholarship. Right, Dad?”

“Yes, that’s correct. Since you’re a minor we will have to sign the paperwork for you. John, do you think we should accept this offer?”

“I’ve reviewed the documents and I don’t see any limitations or loopholes. I think it’s a good plan, it doesn’t limit withdrawals if Brian has another scholarship or if you have a 529 or any other kind of college savings plan. I recommend that you accept this offer.”

“John,” Dad asked, “is this scholarship linked with the offer to pay our legal expenses?”

“No. They are separate and unlinked offers.”

“Do you know who the Trustee and the Account Manager will be?”

“I assume we’ll negotiate who will act as Trustee. I will suggest a law firm that specializes in that type of work. The Account Manager should be a major bank, perhaps Chase or Bank of America so there is nationwide coverage to give Brian access to funds no matter where he is attending college.”

“Is there any reason we should say ‘no’ to either or both of these offers?”

“I don’t believe so. There is one thing that Ralph didn’t tell you about. The agreements state that the Santonis will not release any information about the source of these agreements to any third parties or to the press. They ask that you agree to do the same.”

“Does that mean I can’t tell anyone about my scholarship?”

“You can say that you’ve received a scholarship, but you can’t say that it’s from the Santonis. When it’s set up it will be under the name of the Trustee, so the Santonis will not be connected to it. Until then I recommend that you not say anything about it to anyone outside of your immediate family.”

“I guess that’s okay with me. Dad? Mom? Do you agree?”

Mom and Dad looked at each other, and Mom nodded.

“Yes, we agree, Brian,” Dad said.

I sat back thinking about the scholarship. I hadn’t thought about going to college until tonight. I mean, I did think about it but more like I’d be going to go to Oklahoma State and living in a dorm and going to OSU football games. I'd thought about how I’d be a computer science major. But those weren’t serious thoughts about actually going to college. Heck, I’m only a high school sophomore. Having a scholarship, a one hundred thousand dollar scholarship, now that’s serious, real serious. I thought about going to OSU, or the University of Oklahoma. Or how about the University of California? Berkeley sounds like a great place to go to school. Or Los Angeles. UCLA. Whichever. No more Oklahoma winters. No more Oklahoma summers. Everything paid for. I wondered what it would cost to go to UC Berkeley or UCLA as an out of state student. Probably a lot of money, a real lot of money. I could look it up on later. Oh. My. God! I thought about what I could do in California. That would be so cool! Which would be better, Berkeley or Los Angeles? Maybe Los Angeles and UCLA. The beaches there are supposed to be better and it’s warmer weather. But Berkeley is next to San Francisco and that’s a really exciting city, and UC Berkeley is supposed to be a better school than UCLA. The computer science department there is rated as one of the tops in the whole country. Another thing, I wouldn’t know anyone if I went to UCLA. In Berkeley I know my Aunt Nora and Uncle Neil, and my cousin Rich. But I’d be able to make friends no matter where I went to school. Hmm. Nate. Where did Nate say he would go to medical school? Or did he. I couldn’t remember. It would be very cool if we could go to the same school. Did UC Berkeley have a medical school? Or UCLA? I didn’t know. Another thing that I’d have to look up. Maybe Nate couldn’t afford to go to college out of state. I got a funny feeling, strange funny, when I thought about me and Nate going to the same college. That would be fantastic. That made me think about my dream, the one where Nate got into bed with me. Thinking about that gave me goose bumps. I shivered, trying to get rid of them.

“Brian? John Gibbs is leaving.”

“Oh. Uh, goodbye Mr. Gibbs. You’re through already?”

Dad shook his head and took a deep breath. “Yes, we’re through already. You’ve been sitting there daydreaming for the past half hour.”

John Gibbs grinned. “Same as my teenager. He can go off into a world of his own at the drop of a hat. I’ll see you later, Brian.”

“Wait! What about the plea bargains?”

“Your folks will tell you all about it.” With that Dad walked him to the door.

“What time is it, Mom?”

“About quarter to eight. Nate said he’d be here at eight fifteen.”

“I know. He wanted to talk to us about what he’s going to say to Larry Tefford when he gets here. Did Mr. Gibbs explain about the plea bargains?”

“Yes, he did,” Dad replied. “It’s very simple. Quinten Santoni is pleading guilty in exchange for a ten year sentence with credit for time served. Tom Calloway is pleading guilty in exchange for an eight year sentence with credit for time served.”

“Can’t we ask for them to get longer sentences?”

“No, that’s not the way it works. Remember though, these sentences are long enough that by the time that they get out of prison you will have graduated from college.”

“I guess those terms are okay. Say, what about the kidnapping charge?”

“That’s a Federal offense. That’s still to be negotiated. It may mean a longer sentence, or the sentences might be served concurrently.”

“Then I guess it isn’t really over yet.”

“Not quite. But the results are turning out to be good for you. And, with Mr. Santoni’s scholarship you can go to any school you want.”

“Okay, that all seems reasonable.”

Mom checked her watch. “Nate will be here in about fifteen minutes. Why don’t you go and take a nap until he gets here.”

“Nah. That’ll just make me tired and I want to be alert when we talk to Larry.”

“Alright then, why don’t you watch some TV?”

“Okay.” Mom left and I grabbed the remote. I settled on a Nova special on dolphins, but just as it got interesting the doorbell rang. Dad came out and went to the door. It was Nate.

“Hi, Brian. How are you feeling?”

“Tired, but a heck of a lot better. That massage you gave me got out almost all of my pain, Nate. Thanks, man.”

“You’re welcome, Brian. I’m glad it worked so well. Just a caution though. In the morning you’re going to be sore because some of your muscles will stiffen up while you’re asleep. Take two ibuprofen right before you go to bed. That’ll help.”

“Okay, will do, Doctor Mead. Now, what are you going to do to Larry?” I grinned what I hoped was a nasty grin.

“Do to Larry? Nothing. I’d like you to describe your pain and that you took some ibuprofen, then I’ll describe the type of massage I gave you. I’ll suggest that we come up with an exercise program that will be easier on you. Thinking about it, I really don’t understand why he worked you so hard so soon. Well, that’s water under the bridge, as my dad likes to say.”

“Nate,” Dad said, “Brian’s mom and I decided that we won’t sit in on the discussion you have with Larry. We thought that if we were here it would put him on the defensive and the conversation could become argumentative. So, we’ll stay in the kitchen unless you come in and tell us that you want us to join you.”

“I think that’s a good idea. I have to assume that Larry isn’t a bad guy, just went a little far this first time.”

“Okay, I’ll head back to the kitchen and if you need us just come to the door and let us know.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Anderson.”

Nate sat next to me. “You really feel better?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t say I did if I didn’t.”

I reached my right hand and held his left hand. I looked at him and smiled. We sat that way until the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it, Brian.”

“Okay.”

Nate led Larry into the living room and we sat down. Larry seemed nervous.

“Larry, you don’t know me. My name is Nate Mead. I’m Brian’s friend and we both go to Deer Valley High. I’ve worked at Renaissance Sport for the last two summers, and I learned exercise planning and massage. I’m taking Sports Medicine and I’m on the football team at Deer Valley.”

“Hey, I know you,” Larry said. “You’re one of the quarterbacks for Deer Valley, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I’ll be starting quarterback in the fall. Anyway, I’ve been helping Brian do his homework since he got home from the hospital. I live down the street, so I come by every day after school. When I got here today Brian told me and his Mom that after his exercises he was in so much pain he could barely move, and he took four ibuprofen and went to bed. His mom woke him when I got here around four today and he said he was in just as much pain. So I gave him a light neuromuscular massage. That seems to have helped. What Brian and I would like to have you do is come up with some lighter exercises until his muscles are back to normal. I’ve reviewed this with his folks, and they’re in agreement.”

“My god, I didn’t think what we did was too much for him. When I got here this afternoon I asked him if he was ready for some real exercises today, and he said yes. He didn’t tell me the exercises were bothering him.”

“Larry, I thought you were going to take it easy on me today. I didn’t know the exercises were hurting me so much until right after you left. It was worse when I tried to walk upstairs. I didn’t think I’d make it, but I dragged myself up.”

“Brian, we definitely need to come up with a much lighter exercise program. I’m so sorry that I misunderstood you. Nate, what did you have in mind?”

That’s where I zoned out. Their discussion got into the technicalities of exercise routines and I figured it would be Larry’s job to tell me what we were going to do when he came next Monday for my physical therapy session. Nate took a lot of notes, and I figured that he’d tell me all about it later.

It had taken them less than a half hour to come up with my new exercises, and when they finished Larry seemed much more relaxed.

“Sorry about today, Brian. Nate and I put together a better exercise program for you. You’re lucky to have Nate as a friend. He’s very knowledgeable. He should become a physical therapist so he can make some money while he’s going for his Orthopedics MD.”

“No problem, I should have complained when it seemed too heavy duty. Anyway, I’m looking forward to next week’s session.”

We said our goodbyes and Nate let Larry out, and I let my folks know that Nate and Larry had come up with an easier exercise program.

“Nate and I are going to my room and we’ll take a look at our homework.”

“Alright. Don’t stay up too late.”

“Okay. Nate, let’s go upstairs and see what homework I have that’s the most important.”

“Do you need any help getting upstairs?”

“Nah, I can make it by myself. I’m starting to ache a little, but nothing like this afternoon.”

We got to my room and I sat in my desk chair and Nate sat on the side of my bed. We reviewed the homework he’d been given in the four classes we had together. We decided to work on Algebra 2. Both Nate and I didn’t have any trouble solving the problems that were due the next day, and when we cross-checked our answers they were all the same. Either we got them right or we both messed up the same way. Whatever.

I closed my Algebra book. “I don’t want to do any more homework.”

Nate laughed. “That’s good, since there isn’t any more. You’re caught up in all of the classes that we both have, and so am I. We rock!”

“Yes!”

“What do you want to do now? It’s only nine thirty.”

I got up and closed my bedroom door, then sat on the bed next to Nate. I looked into his eyes. “I want you to spend the night. A sleepover. I want us to sleep together, in my bed.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I want us to sleep together tonight.”

“What’s gotten into you, Brian?”

“I had a dream last night.”

“A dream? A nightmare?”

“No, a good dream. A wonderful dream, about you and me. I was in bed asleep and I felt someone getting into bed with me. It was you. You put your arm around me and we snuggled together, you in back of me. I could hear you breathing, and I felt your breath on my shoulder. You rubbed my back, and your fingertips were light as a feather. I did the same to your back. It felt so good. It was passionate and erotic. I want to feel that way for real. Because of that dream I realized that I’m in love with you, Nate Mead.”

“Brian, we can’t do this.”

“Sure we can.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you said you’re straight and that’s important for how you’re going to have to testify at the trial, and...”

I interrupted him. “There isn’t going to be a trial.”

“What! They’re letting Quin and Tom go?”

“No. Quin is pleading guilty and has worked out a plea bargain for ten years less time served, and Tom worked out a plea bargain too, for eight years less time served. So, no trial, just arraignments for Quin and Tom.”

“Okay, no trial. But you’ve said that you’re straight. Now you say you’re in love with me and you want to sleep with me?”

“Yup to all that. I’m straight and I’m in love with you and I want to sleep with you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Brian.”

“Yes it does. I’m a straight guy who just happens to be in love with a gay guy. And I want to sleep with you tonight. And I want to be your boyfriend. It’s a perfect combination.”

“What about your folks?”

“I’ll tell them that you’re going to spend the night.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” I leaned in and kissed Nate, on the lips, softly and sensually. When I pulled back, which was not quickly, I smiled. “Just like that.”

“Can I tell you something Brian?”

“Sure. You can tell me anything.”

“I’m in love with you. I have been since the first day I saw you here, in your room. I fell for you, Brian. I fell hard.”

“Me too, with you, all of those things. Now, let me go downstairs and tell my folks that you’re spending the night.”

And that’s what I did, and they grumbled about it a little, saying Nate had to go to school the next day, and I said he would, and that we were working on my Physics experiments tonight and I needed to finish them for tomorrow so Nate could bring my report and results to class with him. It wasn’t a lie because we did work on my Physics experiments.

Nate spent the night. We slept together. It was much better than my dream. It was fun, and passionate, and sensual, and erotic. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.