Expanding Horizons

"All right, class," Ms Phillips said as she walked in the door. "I want all the characters in Act I Scene 5 at the front of the room. Bring your books if you must."

Brad and Chris walked to the front of the classroom, leaving their books on their desks. Ronnie clutched his book like a vise, as did the boy playing Juliet's father. The scene played out with only a little coaching from the teacher and suddenly everyone in the room got very quiet. They all realized that they were at the line where Romeo and Juliet first kiss. Brad and Chris said their lines perfectly, but made no move whatsoever to act out the words as Ms. Phillips had been stressing all during the performance.

Brad could see that Ronnie was about to say something, but Ms. Phillips stopped everyone by ordering them all back to their seats. She told the students to spend the rest of the class time writing a brief essay about one of the characters in the scene they had just performed. She wanted them to tell her, based on the information provided up to that point in the play, what they thought of and about their chosen character.

Brad wasn't sure who he should write about. He had so little to go on for Juliet that he ruled her out immediately. He seemed drawn toward writing about Paris for some reason. The thing was as he started describing the bullying, jealous nature of the character, he started thinking of Ronnie.

Chris had no trouble choosing Juliet as the subject of his essay. Although there wasn't a lot of information about her in the play, Chris knew that she had to be someone pretty incredible for Romeo to fall in love with her so completely and so quickly. Just like his boyfriend, however, his thoughts about the character soon became blurred with his thoughts about the student actor playing the role.

Across the room, Ronnie was also writing feverishly. He had immediately thought of Romeo as his subject. Strangely, he too seemed to combine his thoughts of the character and the actor. Stranger still was the fact that Ms. Phillips was very surprised by his essay as she read it later. She thought she knew her students rather well, but this boy had just managed to make her rethink her opinion of him.

When Brad went to Art class that day, the instructor had to make separate plans for him. Since he couldn't take part in the pottery lessons due to his allergies, Brad was told to take a sketch pad and draw something, anything. The poor boy was at a loss for inspiration and just started doodling while he thought of Chris and the events of the day before, as well as the class he had just left.

"I thought you said you had no artistic talent, my boy," Mr. Kennedy said over Brad's shoulder, startling the boy. "That Brad goes beyond talent; that's a gift, a truly marvelous gift." Brad stared at the paper in front of him. He had drawn Romeo at the Capulet garden wall. The picture was good, very good; too good. Romeo's face was extremely familiar. "May I see the previous page?" Mr. Kennedy asked, as he reached for the sketch pad. "My word, Brad," the man gasped. "This is beautiful work."

Brad, who hadn't been totally conscious of his own actions, looked at the first page he had drawn. There were scribbles around the edges of the page, but there in the center was a close-up drawing of Romeo's face at the Capulet party. There was a mask, but Brad could see all too clearly what he had done. Staring back at him from the page were Chris' eyes.

Suddenly Brad started feeling unwell. His breathing grew raspy and his stomach was churning. He realized that the class had ended and he was alone in the room with his teacher. He wanted to run from the room, but couldn't.

"Brad, this has given me inspiration," Mr. Kennedy was saying. "While the rest of the class works on their pottery projects, I would like you to continue to work on this series. I'm a fan of Shakespeare myself, although I tend to like his comedies better than his tragedies. This is really outstanding work, Brad. I can't wait to see more."

"Yes sir," Brad mumbled. He left the room and headed for the lunch room. On the way, he realized that he had graphite smudges all over his hand. He ducked into the restroom to wash it off, but soon wished he hadn't. Ronnie was already in there. Brad was quickly cornered by the bully.

"Well, well, well, aren't you in the wrong bathroom, Juliet? The girls are supposed to use the one next door."

"Very funny," Brad said sarcastically as he stepped up to one of the sinks.

"Don't look this way, you little fag," Ronnie snapped as he stood at the closest urinal to the sink where Brad was washing his hands. "I don't want to be one of your jerk-off fantasies."

"As if," Brad snorted. He gasped as his forehead bounced off the wall in front of him. His right arm was pulled up behind him painfully.

"Are you saying I'm not good enough for you?" Ronnie snarled in Brad's ear. "I got news for you, Juliet. It's you that isn't good enough; not for me and not for Chris. He can't really want to be a fairy for you."

"Chris loves me," Brad defended, but all it got him was more pain as his arm was pulled up even tighter behind his back.

"Chris can't love you," Ronnie barked. "He can't." He tightened his grip on Brad again and pressed closer with his body, mashing Brad against the counter. He backed off for a second and then repeated the move. He kept up this crushing painful rhythm as emphasis for every few words. "That was quite a performance you guys didn't give today. Well, your next kissing scene is going to go differently, you got it? You're going to kiss me in front of that whole class and you're going to do it like you mean it."

"Oh no I won't," Brad said quickly. He cried out as Ronnie twisted his arm worse and pushed him more painfully against the counter.

"Yes you will, Juliet," Ronnie whispered hoarsely. "If you don't, I'll tell your dad all about you and Romeo making out in the bushes at church." He pushed harder against Brad's side and hip. "You'd better make it look good, too. Make it look like you really want me. If you don't, your dad and the whole church, hell, the whole town will know all about you, Juliet."

Ronnie suddenly let go of Brad and went into one of the stalls. Brad wasted no time getting out of the bathroom. He went straight to the lunch room. Without bothering to get any food, he sat down at the table where Chris was waiting for him.

"Where have you been? Lunch is almost over," Chris said. He looked over at his boyfriend and then asked, "Are you ok? You look upset or sick or something."

"I don't feel so good," Brad whispered.

"Maybe you should go to the bathroom," Chris suggested, imitating his father's voice.

"NO!" Brad snapped.

"Okay, don't," Chris replied. "I'm sorry I said anything."

"No, I'm sorry," Brad said quickly. "I guess I'm just nervous. I shouldn't take it out on you."

"What are you nervous about?" Chris asked innocently.

"What am I…? What do you think I'm nervous about? I'm scared that we'll never achieve world peace."

"Brad, what's wrong with you?" Chris returned. "You were ok in English class and now it's like you're mad about something. Did I do something wrong?"

"It's not you; it's not your fault," Brad replied. "I did something dumb in Art class, ok. I just need to think for a bit."

"Everybody does something dumb once in a while," Chris told him. "Don't let it bother you. Did anyone see what you did?"

"Just the teacher," Brad moaned.

"Well, Mr. Kennedy wouldn't say anything to embarrass you," Chris said. "There's nothing to be nervous about."

"He saw what I drew, and now he wants me to do a whole project based on it," Brad complained. "If I do, everyone will see it."

"What did you draw?" Chris asked. He was starting to grin, obviously thinking it was something funny. "Let me guess, it was a picture of Ms. Switch stirring her cauldron with some kid's hand sticking out of the brew."

"You are twisted and sick, you know that? GROSS!" Brad exclaimed.

"I assure you, I have never used a student in any of my cooking endeavors." Both boys looked up to see Ms. Phillips standing at the end of their table. "Some day that mouth and over active imagination of yours will get you into trouble, Christopher."

Even after she walked away, Chris still sat with his mouth hanging slightly open. "I swear she's out to get me," he whined finally finding his voice. "She doesn't sneak up on anyone else."

"She sneaks up on everyone," Brad defended his teacher. "You're right though. She does pick on you more. You're almost family, so she feels an obligation to make sure you do the right thing with your life."

"Lucky me," Chris moaned. "Let's go before she shows up again and embarrasses me some more. Besides, Mrs. Waldrup said that we're going to start growing crystals in class today. That sounds cool."

"How do you grow a rock?" Brad asked.

"I don't know, but I'll go along with any project that gets us out of one of her lectures," Chris responded. He was looking back at Brad as he said it and saw his boyfriend's pained expressions. "She's standing beside me, isn't she?" Brad merely nodded. Chris turned to face the frowning woman. "Hello, Mrs. Waldrup, aren't you looking lovely today?"

"Can the crap, Chris," the woman huffed. "Don't worry; I don't like droning on to your deaf ears any more than you do. Shall we go grow some rocks, boys?"

"Yes ma'am," the boys said submissively.

"Your mouth is going to get you in so much trouble one of these days," Brad whispered to Chris.

"I couldn't agree more," Mrs. Waldrup told them both. The three of them remained silent the rest of the way to the science classroom.

Science class was indeed interesting that day. The students got to measure out the ingredients of various normal household items which were to be combined in an empty aquarium at the side of the room. Once that was done, a movie was shown that talked about the various forms of crystals found in nature. The movie itself wasn't that interesting, but it did give Brad the chance to stare at the back of Chris' neck.

He could remember the way that same neck looked when it was shiny and wet in the shower at Chris' home. That thought of course spurred Brad's eyes to roam further down his boyfriend's body. However, he wasn't seeing the t shirt that Chris was wearing in class. He was remembering how that body had looked the day before in that shower, with water pouring down it, running into that incredible cleft which once again showed above the top of his underwear.

"Earth to Brad!" Brad jumped as Chris' voice shook him from his welcomed daydreams. "It's time for our next class, buddy. Let's go to the gym."

"Yeah, I'm coming," Brad responded.

"I hope not, but it wouldn't surprise me from the looks of that tent," Chris whispered pointing at Brad's lap. "Quick, picture Mrs. Waldrup in her underwear."

"EEEWWW!!!" Brad exclaimed. "That's just wrong."

"Yeah, but it did get rid of that problem you had," Chris laughed.

"I don't know whether to thank you or not," Brad complained.

"Thank me, did you want to walk out of here in front of her like that?" Chris pointed out. "Not to mention you probably shouldn't have one of those in the locker room, either."

"Okay, thank you," Brad agreed. "Just don't make me think of something like that ever again."

"No guarantees," Chris replied. "What if you are getting a hardon in front of your dad or something?"

"Okay, only in emergencies," Brad agreed.

"You have a deal," Chris smiled. "Now we'd better get a move on or we'll be late for gym." Just as they got to the gym, Chris stopped them outside. "Was art class really the only thing bothering you?"

"I told you it was," Brad replied. "Does this mean you don't believe me?"

"No, I just want to know what's going on with you," Chris told him. "I mean if it was something about English class today, you would talk to me about it, right?"

"If it was about English today, yes I would talk to you," Brad assured his boyfriend. He thought to himself that he was being honest since the problem was about another day's performance and not today's. Okay, he knew it wasn't that honest, but he was afraid to tell Chris what had happened with Ronnie. What if Ronnie was right? What if Chris did decide that Brad wasn't worth the trouble? "It's nothing. It's just those pictures I have to do for art class."

"Do you want me to pose for you?" Chris asked seductively and winked.

"Dang it, now I have to picture old ladies in their granny panties again," Brad scolded. "You are no help at all, you know that?" He was grinning as he fussed though.

"Sorry," Chris told him with absolutely no conviction whatsoever.

"I can tell," Brad laughed. "You're a horndog."

"So are you," Chris returned with a laugh of his own. "That's why we are so good together."

"You guys are good together," Coach suddenly said beside them. "The gym never looked so good. I'm glad you could both work here and help out."

"So are we, Coach," Brad and Chris agreed.

"That doesn't mean you can get away with being late for class, though," the man told them. "Five laps around the basketball court as soon as you get dressed out."

"Yes Coach," Chris moaned. "I told you we were going to be late."

"You're the one that stopped us outside to talk," Brad pointed out.

There weren't two lockers close together this time, so Brad was alone when he noticed the crusty spot on the side of his jeans. He knew he hadn't been near the clay in art class today, and couldn't think of anything else it could be. He couldn't shake the idea that the spot looked familiar. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn it was like the spots he made on his sheets at night.

Brad's eyes shot open wide in sudden realization. That was what it was all right, but not from him. This was from Ronnie. Ronnie hadn't been just pinning Brad against the sink counter; he had been humping Brad's hip. This changed things a little bit. For the first time since he had met Ronnie, he didn't feel intimidated by the boy anymore. Brad now knew exactly how to handle the situation with Ronnie.

---

Author's Note:

Well things are starting to get interesting for Brad. I hope they are for you as well. I promise another chapter as soon as I can. Don't forget to read all my others plus keep up with the other stories here at The Story Lover's Home and the other Clan Short Sites. Keep on reading, and maybe once in a while let us authors know that we're doing a good job. Those comments are our pay, you know. Thanks for reading my work.

Laissez les bon temps roullez!

Boudreaux