It was after mid-night, Shawn unable to sleep, was laying in his dimly lit corner of his room, his small television set was off to the left of him, cascading a gray static picture towards his view. Shawn mentally complained about the station once again being out range, those damn bunny rabbit ears never work when you need them too. What else did Shawn have to do but lay in the dark, and think. He sits upright, to place his pillow behind his back, he slowly sits back down so that the soft cushion was comforting his back. He stretches out his legs, straight, almost to the point of his toes touching the opposite headboard frame. He thought to himself that either the bed was shrinking or he was getting taller.

He occupied his time and the dreary long night ahead of himself, with thoughts of his current situation. His relationships, and the chooses he was currently contemplating with a sudden dread. He wasn't one to deal with complications very easily. And the decisions that laid ahead of him were very complicated. Too complicated for him to really focus on them long, he decided that he could find a better, more suited manner in which to waste the time.

Afterwards he laid in bed, satisfied, fulfillment filled, he finally felt exhaustion setting in. And before he could think on who it was he was envisioning of when he pleasurably erupted, his head slumped over, half on his pillow, half on the mattress. He was snoring peacefully, after a minute.


Eric was writing another long entry into his day journal. He was suffering from a sore hand, after writing for over an hour, laying out his frustrations on secret paper, and 30 minutes more of homework assignments in need to be finished. He was becoming ignored. Why must school give you so much work to take home? Don't they think seven hours of school work, ain't enough? Kids have personal lives, too.

But more then that, he was sore from Jason's constant neglect. It made Eric desperate for any kind of response. He had been bombarding Jason's phone number with calls, leaving message after message to him. And sending posted letters to the address that was given, but still nothing came. He didn't know if the phone calls and letters were being intercepted or just rudely ignored. Eric didn't want to think it was over, how it could be? he was in denial, he knew. and the more time passed, the more it was becoming official.

It had been four months since Jason moved, and nothing from him was returned, no letters, no phone calls, nothing was responded too. Nothing from him, what-so-ever. Eric didn't understand how he could be so cold, after everything they shared, after all the talks, the plans that I had made together. He still couldn't believe it was truly over. He sat back at his desk, his shaking knee, slightly spinning his swivel chair.

"We're going to go to the same collage, get us a place of our own, an apartment. We're be able to really be together, no hiding, no secrets. I can't wait for that day to come, Eric." Jason would say.

All those plans seemed to be erased, like they never even existed. He thought of the times when they talked of getting a pet, adopting two dogs, or two cats. Which ever they saw and felt a connection too. Jason would name one, DiMaggio for his love of baseball. And Eric would name his Donatello, for his secret love of the arts. He thought of how they would be freely in their own world. being able to make love in the mornings, in their own bed. and making love at night, afterwards being able to snuggle until they were both fast asleep, not having to rush through, or forced to be quite. Eric was looking forward to cementing their relationship with real everyday couple things. And now it looks as though it was a pipe dream. One that wouldn't ever turn out to be.

He couldn't help but cursed out-loud. If only that day didn't ever occur. Things would still be going in the direction that they had planned, if it wasn't for that day, that damn day. Damn Jason's mother, Eric thought.

Suddenly, Eric overheard a loud crash, and glass breaking. It quickly lapsed him out of his inner tirade. He looked up to his bedroom window, and saw that it was broken, a orange basketball, the culprit. He stood up, and went to the shattered window. He kneeled over out it, and saw his brother's friend, standing on the patio, over the widow.

"Shawn, what did you do that for?" - "I didn't do it on purpose," Shawn replies, and stumbling his way away from the house, he shouts back, quickly. "I wasn't here, okay?" He sheepishly proclaims and dashes off around the corner disappearing from Eric's view. And just in time, too. For Eric's parents head out their back door to notice the damage, Mr. Allen looks up at his son, Eric who was still leaning out the window. "What happened?" Allen asks. Eric shrugs his shoulders, while Mrs. Matthew, reprimands Eric for looking out the window, when there was still glass that could cut him.

That was the first lie, that Eric told, involving Shawn Hunter.

He goes back in his room, shaking his head, in disbelief and slight amusement. "That Shawn Hunter, he is a piece of work." Eric whispers out loud, as he places his journal back in it's hiding place, his top dresser drawer, right alongside his buck knife.

-flashback ends-

Shawn opened his eyes, his alarm clock ringing in the new day. The morning sunlight streaming through the thin curtains, shining in his sleepy eyes. A new day and all he could think about was going back to sleep, but it was a school day so he forced himself up. All through his pop tart breakfast, he thought of wanting to reinvent himself this new school year, how he wanted to be the popular one. The one that got everyone talking.

The opportunity arrived once he was at school. The janitor was getting ready to repaint the new principle's name on the door of the principal's office, perfect opportunity, he thought of several different things he could write, the paint was right there, left unattended, no one was around. He could do in rather quickly, and not be seen. He'd get people talking and not have to face the consequences. A win-win, in his book. Cause, after all, he knew who did it. And the recognition wasn't important. It was the act itself. But something distracted him. And he didn't get people talking, after all. It was Joey and Frankie, who did. And they got themselves two weeks after school detention for it. So perhaps it was good that Shawn saw Eric.

He wanted so desperately to talk to him. And after school, they met up at Shawn's. Eric had only been there, maybe once before. But it was private.