Like Dust in the Wind
by Jack Lynch
Chapter 11
Did You Think You Could Just Leave?
"Are you gonna be ok?"
"Apollo, you're really starting to annoy me," Carey replied.
When it was really bad, Apollo couldn't have been sweeter and more loving. Treating Carey like bone china, he helped him get up, lay down, go to the bathroom. He even tried to feed him a few times.
Carey accepted the help because he both needed it and wanted it, physically and emotionally. The car accident had left him so wasted. Rehab was helping. So were the weekly sessions with a psychologist. His analyst initially recommended a psych consult so they could get him some medication to boost his serotonin uptake. But, they talked it over. The side effects from the pain killers were bad enough. Carey wanted to be done with drugs.
Having Apollo around was like pouring water on a thirsty flower. Carey perked up whenever Apollo showed up at the hospital or at his parent's house. He was so damn cute! The way he looked, of course. Very boyish with his long hair and slender frame, his oval face and those blue eyes. The way he acted, too. Like a little nurse, running around getting him drinks and snacks, propping up his pillows.
They were watching TV one day when Apollo slumped down on the floor in front of him, sitting between Carey's legs. Just like a puppy. Woof, woof! Carey thought. He actually felt his dick partially awaken from its deep slumber.
The trip to campus was supposed to have been cathartic. Actually, Carey felt nothing. He sorted a pile of junk mail and departmental memos taken from his mailbox. Ninety-nine percent of it went in the trash. A fifteen minute meeting with his advisor. Total support from the university. Come back whenever you feel up to it, Carey was told.
A year ago. An online search revealed where Carey was going to school. Having nowhere else to go, Apollo got himself to the city. He tried working fast food for a couple of weeks but the money sucked. The job stripping at Rikk's was kind of a natural for him. When he was little, he used to hang around with his mom at the strip joint where she worked. The money was a hell of a lot better and it was at night. That gave him days to keep an eye on Carey.
Apollo fantasized about just going up to him. He wasn't scared or maybe he was, a little. He just didn't know what to say. Wanna jerk off? That didn't seem…right. Or, can we cuddle again? What a wuss thing to ask, especially since he chose to disappear right after the last time.
Instead, he just watched.
Back to the present, Apollo smirked and shrugged his shoulders.
"Whatever. I'll be in the library."
He walked away, leaving Carey to enter the Social Sciences building by himself to meet with one of his professors.
The third floor stacks. His favorite place. A large collection of books on physics, math, and even quantum physics. He had thumbed through many of these books as he observed Carey. His favorite study carrel was a few rows away. Apollo could check him out when he peeked between the shelves.
He chose one of his favorite books on advanced math theory and sat down to give one of the chapters a quick re-read. Apollo could hardly think of anything more fun to do than try to figure out complex math problems or dissect physics formulas. Even better than sex, he chuckled to himself.
"You're so cute!"
He'd missed seeing Carey limp up until he planted a kiss on the side of his head.
"Do you want to take that book out?"
"Nah. That's ok. Maybe next time."
A big yawn. Apollo lay on his bed flipping through random web sites on his phone. He'd rented the tiny basement studio apartment from Mrs. Ford because it was cheap, furnished, and within walking distance to Carey's house. An article in the online version of the local newspaper caught his attention. The public school system was desperately short of substitute teachers. Qualifications had been relaxed to allow almost anyone with a pulse to get a job as a sub.
"You're pretty young looking," the high school principal said as he looked Apollo over. "You sure you can handle rambunctious fourteen and fifteen year olds?"
After Mr. Willams looked over his credentials, documents Apollo had carefully faked, he let out a long sigh.
"Ok, Mr. Parker, we have an immediate opening. Our 11th grade math teacher just went out on maternity leave." Aaron Parker, the name and persona Apollo had created just for this purpose. "How are you at teaching Trig?"
"Piece 'o cake!"
When Apollo told him about his new job, Carey laughed.
"Go for it!"
Apollo knew he had his hands full on the very first day. As predicted, the twenty-four students in his eight o'clock class were a handful. It was almost a free for all, kids talking loudly and rudely to each other, ignoring his attempts to get their attention. Standing in front of the class, a paper airplane flew right across his face, making him involuntarily duck. Several kids cackled loudly.
Mr. Williams was right. He looked young, even younger than some of the kids he was supposed to be teaching. They saw what they thought was an opening to take over and they went for it.
"Tweeet!"
A loud whistle, his fingers in his mouth, finally got their attention.
"Ok."
Apollo had to think fast. He didn't even know what he was going to say next.
"I'm gonna leave it up to you guys. We can spend this period goofing around or we can learn something."
They all looked at him.
"Learn something and you may have a chance to gain some intelligence, get into a good school, get a job, and make some money."
It just spilled out of him without thinking.
"Or, you can goof off, get abused by your parents, live under a bridge, and sell your body to make just enough money to feed yourself once in awhile." He paused. "Like me."
You could hear a pin drop.
Barely missing a beat, he grabbed a piece of paper off of his desk, ripped it into small pieces, and started to walk up and down the aisles, giving each kid a piece. Afterwards, he went to the whiteboard at the front of the room and wrote an "L" followed by a dash and the word "Learn." Underneath, he wrote "G" and the words "Goof off."
"I'll make it easy for ya in case you have trouble spelling," Apollo said sarcastically. "You don't even have to write the whole word out, just the letter."
He walked over to a girl sitting in the first row. Palms flat on her desk, he put his face right into hers.
"What's your name, miss?"
"Jilly."
"Do you think you can follow those instructions, Jilly?"
She stared straight back at him. Kind of cute, he thought in the moment. Dark straight hair, long and parted on the side, tied in a pony tail. Brown eyes, pale skin, a field of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She had a look.
"Yes, I can follow those instructions."
Not arrogant, just confident. A low resonant voice, not a high girlie voice so typical of teenagers.
"Ok. Vote then!"
Apollo stood up watching the kids quickly cast their votes. He grabbed a bowl of hard candy on his desk, emptied it out, and used it to collect the scraps of paper.
Eighteen to six in favor of "Learn."
After announcing the vote, he turned to the white board.
"Ok. Solve for this." He began writing an equation on the board.
Each class that followed got progressively easier. The word must have traveled around pretty quickly.
A few days later, Apollo was walking home from school. He couldn't wait to dump his stuff at the apartment and get over to Carey's house. He wanted to tell him how well everything was going. That day, Mr. Williams sat in on one of his classes.
"I like what I'm seeing, Mr. Parker. Keep up the good work!"
Apollo loved the math and he loved the teaching. Maybe, just maybe, things could work out this time.
He turned the corner, walking into the alley near his apartment. The easiest way to get into his place was through Mrs. Ford's back door, closest to the alley.
Apollo started to turn his head, hearing a high pitched giggle. Then darkness.
He regained consciousness some time later to the sound of a watermelon being smashed. It wasn't a watermelon, though. It was his eye socket as Omar's fist slammed into his face. More violent punches to his head, body, everywhere.
Omar laughed derisively. "Did you think you could just leave??"
Then, more darkness.
When he regained consciousness, Apollo raised his head slightly and looked around. He was back in his room in Malibu. Everything hurt. Searing pain in his torso and arms. His ribs must be broken, he thought. His face felt hot, stiff and swollen.
After awhile, Finn came in with a cup of water and some pills.
"No." Apollo waved him away.
"It's for the pain, asshole."
Finn looked at Apollo and grimaced. It was going to be a couple of weeks, maybe a month or more, before Amir could resume enjoying this guy's charms.
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