Today was going to be no different than any other, or so I thought. It was five-thirty and, as I lay in bed listening to the light breathing and occasional snoring of the 11 other 8th grade boys in my dorm, I could see the sky start to brighten through a chink in the curtain hanging on the wall opposite me.

The dorms here at Kramer were great. All of the eighth grade dorms accommodated twelve students each, had twelve single beds, twelve small desks next to each bed and a large set of drawers at the foot of each bed. Each dorm also had its own bathroom with a communal shower and toilets and sinks for six students at a time. It goes without saying that we had to take turns. Although there wasn't much privacy there was more than enough space to make us feel comfortable. Next year I will move into a smaller dorm and an even smaller one after that, until twelfth grade when I will get my own room. Luckily most of the boys in my dorm are also in my class.

Rhys is the only boy from one of the other classes. Like most of the other people here, I had never met him before in my life but we had become good friends ever since he had struck up a conversation with me while making his bed next to mine. He was a dancer, and despite that fact that there was an unwritten code of loyalty towards those from your own faculty, I couldn't help but be drawn into his friendly smile and what I can only describe as lightness of being. This being said, it endlessly puzzled me as to why he hung out so much with Adriel Atwood. As I watched them together while in the courtyard during break or on their walks to dance class I couldn't help but notice the disparity in their demeanours. I'm not saying that I know Adriel very well, since I've never ever spoken to him before, but ever since he wouldn't reciprocate a very warm smile I gave him on our first day at Kramer I've always thought of him as slightly aloof. I was also puzzled as to why I put so much thought into him at all. Adriel Atwood unnerved me somehow and, despite his distance, I couldn't resist it.

I turned on my side to face Rhys' bed. It was our morning routine to go out for a 30 minute run before showering and going to breakfast. We were both pretty fit and we kept up with each other pretty well. I had played rugby at primary school and I was going to start playing for a neighbouring school here in Cape Town since Kramer didn't have a rugby team.

'Rhys,' I whispered loudly.

Rhys stirred slightly but continued in his slumber. I got out of bed and went over to him. I shook his shoulder. He turned on his back and looked up at me with wide eyes. He scrunched his eyes up and opened them wide again.

'Morning,' he said, his unused voice still crackling. He cleared his throat.

'I'm getting dressed,' I said as I went over to my drawer to get out my running shorts and vest.

It was weird but nobody really seemed to have any nudity issues within the dorms. It's true that I as well as Rhys and few others didn't take liberty in flaunting our manhood at all times. It seemed completely natural for us to be completely naked in front of each other in our dorms and we had no choice really in the showers. In the beginning we'd have a great laugh sometimes when someone got caught with an erection or even jerking off but after a few weeks, once we had all been confronted with each other's nakedness, it wasn't so funny anymore.

Once Rhys and I were dressed we exited the hostel and started on our jog around the premises. We'd go all the way around the tennis courts, passed the swimming pool, around the buildings of the school, passed Principal Atwood's home and back to the hostel.

The air was cool and crisp and there were a few other joggers in site. Most of them were older students. As our run neared its end at the Principal's mansion, there was the distinct sound of classical music drifting through the tall hedge that encompassed the property. I stopped for a second and Rhys stopped a few feet in front of me.

'What's up?' he asked, leaning with his hands on his knees.

'That music, it's coming from in there right?' I asked, making sure he could hear it too.

'Yeah, it's Giselle, the ballet,' said Rhys.

'Why haven't we heard it before? We run passed here every morning and I've never heard it before,' I said, listening to the tune and remarked, 'It's nice.'

'It's probably Adriel. He said he was going to start practising in the mornings as well nowadays,' informed Rhys.

'I thought you said he was brilliant. Why does he need extra practise? Is he not keeping up with the older class or something?' I asked.

At this point we had started to walk back to the hostel and were quite a distance away when we turned back to see principal Atwood appear out of the hedge and walk along a path towards the school.

'He is brilliant, so brilliant in fact that he is not only one of the top students in the older class but they've also put him on pointe,'

'I thought only the girls danced on pointe,' I said confused.

'Guys don't need to dance on pointe, but it is possible. I think the instructors are trying to push the envelope a bit since there hasn't ever been a male dancer at Kramer to try, let alone perfect, dancing on point,'

'Why Adriel though?'

'Because he's more experienced than most dancers our age and has impeccable control over his body. He's also not heavy or bulky like the other male dancers, so it'll be easier for him to carry his weight on the tips of his toes,' explained Rhys.

'It sounds excruciating. Why don't you do it? I'm sure you could,' I asked

'I don't have Adriel's skeletal framework, not to mention I need to still master everything that he has already mastered. He'll receive a lot of praise for dancing on pointe, especially in the more modern choreographies and ballets. As I've said, he's way ahead of his time.'

I continued to think about what Rhys had told me about Adriel all through breakfast and register period. I was amazed and somewhat impressed at what a revered dancer Adriel was. I thought about what it must be like to watch him. I was amazed at what Rhys could do when I first saw him practising in our dorm so I could only imagine what Adriel could do. My thoughts drifted even further, to what it would be like to be him. My first thoughts were that it would be awesome but then I realised how much pressure he must be under. To keep up his repertoire while simultaneously adding to it, not to mention that I had heard he was an excellent academic. Maybe that's why he seems so distant, bordering on aloof. Maybe he was too preoccupied concentrating on his next dance class, on how to perfect certain techniques and how to get full marks on the next Biology test to even think about or take note of those that weren't in his immediate surroundings. I realised that I may have judged Adriel as arrogant a little prematurely.

The rest of the school day passed quite pleasantly. We were given back our Maths tests which we had written two days ago and I was pleasantly surprised to have gotten full marks. It had been a difficult test compared to some of the others we had written over the term and I was shocked to learn I was the only person in the grade to get a perfect score. My mind immediately drifted back to Adriel and I wondered what he had scored. We have been indirectly competing against each other academically since the first test we had written. It was an unusual circumstance really, as we never really spoke to each other about our marks, nor have I ever inquired about them. It was always the other students in our respective classes that tracked this 'competition' and always enlightened me about what Adriel's latest marks were. I guess I could say that I enjoyed doing well, whether at school work or at my art, but it wasn't my goal to be top of the class. If it happened, it happened. Whether I was first or twenty-first, I would be satisfied with my best.

After school I walked with a few of the guys in my class back to the dorms where I changed into my normal clothes, had lunch (spaghetti bolognaise) and went to my afternoon art classes. We were learning how to sketch properly by using different techniques and leads. It was quite basic but it was something that we, unless we'd been to proper art classes before, wouldn't know how to do. It made us more versatile artists instead of using the same technique we had become accustomed to while growing up. It was a Tuesday so I finished my task fairly early so that I could leave for my first pre-season rugby practice. I hurried back to the hostel and got dressed into my rugby shorts, shirt, socks and boots.

The school I would be playing for was in the same area as Kramer and the walk there only took about 15 minutes. I was the only person from a different school but the other kids were friendly enough and we began to chat easily while doing our warming up exercises and laps around the field. The coach hadn't arrived yet and the assistant coach, who was a university student, was the one marching us up and down the field. After about twenty minutes of just warming up, a car pulled up at the side of the field.

'Well, it looks as if coach is here,' said the assistant coach who we came to know as Wayne.

We were in the middle of the field so it was only when the coach got into closer range and removed his sunglasses that I realised I was standing face to face with Principal Atwood. There he was standing in navy tracksuit pants, golf shirt, cap and trainers wielding a whistle around his right hand. The crowd of muttering boys standing behind me went completely still. Principal Atwood was someone who commanded respect, and he did it without having to say a single word. It's what impressed me the most about him. He had the reputation for being an extremely fair, logical and intelligent leader who, although courteous and friendly in his interactions with his students, still managed to scare the shit out of them. Nobody in their right mind would dare cross him. I think it had something to do with his steely blue gaze, his tall, muscular frame and his large hands that could probably decapitate someone in one quick swoosh. Adriel must get his figure from his mother because he looked nothing like his father. Principal Atwood was speaking now and I literally shook my head to clear the thought of Adriel.

'Is there something you'd like to say?' asked Principal Atwood suddenly.

I waited for someone to answer his question but nobody said anything. I looked up and saw everyone was staring at me, including Principal Atwood.

'Me?' I asked unsure of what was actually going on.

'Yes you Mr Sutherland, you were shaking your head. Is there something you disagree with?'

'No sir,' I said quickly standing up straight.

Principal Atwood nodded and continued talking about the upcoming winter sports season which would officially start in April next term. I wondered if he knew all of his students' names or only mine because he knew I would be in his squad.

Rugby practice was awesome. It was a pretty much pointless game but there was something about throwing around a ball and running around tackling people that appealed to my occasional sense of crazy. My sister always called me 'the alternative jock', someone who not only excelled at sport, but was academically and creatively inclined too.

Principal Atwood whom we know called Coach Atwood was pleased with the calibre of our game and said the team gelled well. We all left the field chuffed with ourselves and as I was walking out of the school gates a car pulled up next to me.

'Get in son,' said coach Atwood. I obliged and sat in the passenger seat with my tog bag in my lap. It was six-thirty in the evening and it was getting dark earlier nowadays, not to mention colder. I made sure I put on my seatbelt as I didn't want Principal Atwood to have to tell me to do it.

'So Tyler, how are you finding Kramer? Are you enjoying it there?' asked Principal Atwood.

'It's awesome, there's so much to do and to learn. The teachers are very nice too,' I said.

'They tell me you are doing well,' he added.

'They do?'

'Of course, I like to know how my students are doing. We always discuss you kids at meetings,' he said.

'I didn't know you coached rugby Principal Atwood,' I said suddenly.

'Well I used to play rugby for the national team before I got injured; now I just coach part time. It's a nice break from the academic world,' he explained.

We continued to talk about rugby and who our favourite players were and what we thought of the current national squad. I was quite surprised at how comfortable it was talking to Principal Atwood. He seemed to really listen to what one was saying and always demanded more out of a conversation. I think it was his way of indirectly studying other people so that he could relate to them on a more personal level. Maybe that is why he was such a good educator, because he invested a lot of personal time into his students and colleagues.

It wasn't long before we entered the school gates and he drove around the school towards his house. He parked in his driveway which allowed me to see the full extent of the yard and the mysterious Principal's Mansion that lay behind the tall, thick hedge. The garden was immaculately kept and the house was extremely grand. It reminded me of the houses on plantations I always used to see in the movies, like the one in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

'Come inside while I get that book for you,' said Principal Atwood getting out f the car.

I followed him through the large front door into a very large atrium that had very high ceilings. Principal Atwood had said I could borrow a biography of Naas Botha, one of my favourite South African rugby players of all time, since I went on about him during our conversation about the sport. I waited in the entrance while he went to fetch the book. The house was once again filled with classical music, different from the music I had heard this morning. I followed it to its source. It led me to one of the doors a little further down the passage. The double wooden sliding doors were opened and I could see into what seemed like a very large dining room quite clearly. There were large glass windows on the opposite wall that looked out onto the patio and yard. It wasn't the room that intrigued me the most though. It was the moving figure of Adriel. His eyes were closed and his body moved effortlessly and silently across the wooden floor. I stood and watched him intently.

His back arched and his knees bent, he propelled himself off the floor and twirled in the air before landing perfectly on his feet again. He leaped and did the splits in the air and as soon as he landed went straight into some very complicated looking footwork. I watched his back straighten again and he neck extend as far as it could while his arms made elegant circles and semi-circles around his head. I studied every inch of the way his body moved. The way he stood on his toes, the perfect lines of his long, thin legs and the subtle contours of his swan-like neck. I was entranced by this graceful creature.

'Tyler,' said a voice behind me. I turned to see Principal Atwood standing a few feet behind me with the book in his hand. I wasn't sure how long he had been standing there but I knew he could see what I had been watching. I looked back into the large room and saw that Adriel had stopped dancing and was now also staring at me. I made to walk away but I tripped over my tog bag which I forgot I had put down on the floor next to me. I quickly stopped myself from falling on my face and stood up as though nothing had happened.

'You okay Tyler?' asked Principal Atwood.

'Yes, I'm fine,' I replied.

'Well, here's the book I promised. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did,' he said.

His hand was on my back now and he was leading me toward the front door.

'Thank you,' I said turning the book in my hands.

'You have a good night now,' said Principal Atwood as I started down the front steps to the driveway which led out of the premises. Adriel had joined him now outside the front door and Principal Atwood's arm was draped over his son's shoulders. I gave one quick wave before disappearing out of the driveway and behind the hedge. I jogged back to the hostel so that I wouldn't be late for supper.

I immediately took a shower upon my arrival in my dorm and went down to supper. Afterwards I did my homework at my desk while talking to Rhys about rugby and my conversation with Principal Atwood. I didn't mention Adriel and what I had seen. After we had completed our work we got ready for bed. I took off my clothes as I slept only in my cotton boxers and climbed under the duvet and blanket, which I had thrown over the bed due to the cooler weather. One by one the bedside lamps went out and one by one the light snoring and even breathing of sleeping bodies began.

'Rhys,' I whispered to see if he was still awake. His eyes were closed and he wasn't moving. I turned on my back.

Thoughts about Adriel were drifting back into my head. I remembered his expression has he danced. I recalled the look of utter tranquillity on his face, his eyelids lightly closed as though sewn together by fine silk. His body moved around in my head. I felt the nape of his neck, the sharpness of his collar bone that peeked out from the low neckline of his tight, black attire.

My hand was on my dick now and I realised I had a raging boner. I quietly got out of bed and sneaked into the bathroom. I closed the main bathroom door and switched on the light. I went to one of the toilet cubicles and freed my member from the front slit in my boxers.

As I stood there, dick in my hand, my mind continued to dwell on Adriel's body. It wandered further down to the small of his back and the smooth, firm roundness of his small backside. I thought about what it would feel like to handle his narrow waist in my hands, to feel his hips beneath my fingers. I leaned forward and rested my left hand on the cistern of the toilet while my right hand shuffled my foreskin back and forth with ferocity. My hand is moving over his thighs, my nose is buried deep in his luxuriously black hair and I can taste the skin of his neck. His back is pressed against my torso and I can feel his bony scapulae digging into my chest. My hands move over his belly and further down, over his pelvis, over his hips and down into his groin...

I came with such force that I had to lean with my shins against the rim of the toilet. The cum shot onto the cistern in front of me and continued to rain down into the toilet and onto the rim. Once the spasms had subsided and I began to breathe more normally, I straightened up and used some toilet paper to clean the mess I had made. I slipped my satisfied member back into my boxers and went to wash my hands at the sink. I looked at myself in the mirror.

What was happening to me? Nobody had ever plagued my mind, the way Adriel did, before today. What was to be a normal day in high school had turned into one which would seal my fate for who knew how long. I surrendered myself to the daily torment that was the unrequited yearning for none other than Adriel Atwood.


Dane du Toit

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