Just a dumb fuck

There are two stories of what happened during my first couple of weeks at Oakdale High: the version that everyone knows about, and my version. Of course, it’s the version that everyone knows and talks about that is the truth, and it’s the truth simply because everyone does know and talk about it. Not that they talk publicly of course, that’s a can of worms that no-one wants on display, but in Oakdale’s corridors mutterings can still be heard about ‘the English boy’ and heads are shaken.

* * *

It had the promise of being a great adventure, a once in a lifetime opportunity, but it is amazing how quickly things spiralled out of control. I was nearly 15 when my dad accepted an exchange posting to the States and it was decided that I would go with him for a year, experience life in America and all that entailed. Which of course meant an American school too. I was actually looking forward to that. Okay, my knowledge of American schools was somewhat limited and based entirely on what I had seen on films and tv but boy, did that did seem a cool way to spend a year! A few months passed, we flew to New York, spent a couple of weeks holidaying and then moved on to Pittsburgh, where dad was going to be based and I was going to go to school. When it came to sorting a place for me at Oakdale High it was quickly decided that I’d start in the second year there, a sophomore as they call it, rather than as a freshman. Maybe that’s where things began to go wrong and the notion of the cocky English kid who was too big for his boots got started.

The first few days were pretty good: I got issued a locker in a corridor, just like in the films, a partner for science class and started to make friends – the ‘cute’ accent helped though let’s be clear about that right from the start. I don’t have an accent: Americans do. I just speak English. By Thursday I was being pushed towards joining the junior football squad. That’s American football, sort of like armour-plated rugby with crash hats, and on the Friday I got my first invitation to a house party. Not just any house party, but the party. The one the whole school wanted to go to but to which invitations were like gold dust and generally limited to seniors, a few juniors and almost no sophomores. That’s where Mackenzie came into things. She was a senior, cheerleader for the Tigers and basically the alpha female in the whole school. And the big sister of my science partner, Jake, which was how I got to meet her, briefly, one lunchtime. , The party invitation followed. With hindsight it‘s clear that as I was the new talking point in school Mackenzie was just making it plain that she wasn’t going to be eclipsed. I think if she could have done, she would have put a leash on me and paraded me around the place for a few days until the novelty had worn off and nobody was interested in me anymore. I’m not good at reading girls. To be honest, most of the time they’re like a completely different species.

As you’re probably beginning to anticipate, the party didn’t end well. It certainly started well, and I know that some of what happened has entered the legends of Oakdale High, but it’s best I don’t go into too much detail. For a start, you’ve got to remember that, as my dad made very clear to me again and again as he drilled my ears out like one of his recruits, “You’re hardly just bloody 15 for Christ’s sake!”  It was not, absolutely not, the best time to remind him I was still just bloody 14. And yes, a girl was involved. Which of course in this context means sex. Which is probably as much as I should say about that night. You can fill the gaps in yourself easily enough if you’re familiar with the stereotypical American school movie.

The following week, the Monday morning after the party, actually began well. I’d had Sunday to come to terms with what had happened at the party and though some of it was still a little unreal, I had processed the fact that I was no longer a virgin. To a teenager, that matters. Okay, the circumstances had been a little, well, unusual shall we say and I was still getting to grips with that, but there was definitely something of a swagger in my step and a smirk on my face when I walked up to the main doors of Oakdale that morning.

“Dude!” There was a certain intonation to the greeting from Jake, waiting on the steps with a couple of the other guys from my class, that said everything that had to be said. “Duuuude,” they repeated collectively, and grinned. I think I may have been about to grin back, but then then an express train hit me right between the shoulder blades and my face slammed into the plate glass door. I staggered momentarily, spinning around as I bounced back off the door and came to rest in a crumpled heap on the floor.

It took a moment for my eyes to focus and the first thing that swam, somewhat hazily, into view, was a crowd of shocked faces. A big crowd. The second thing was Justin, or more accurately, his foot swinging towards my face. Instinctively I flinched and rolled, getting my head out of the way but catching a vicious blow on my shoulder instead. Everything seemed frozen in time and place. No-one moved except Justin.

Justin, in case you haven’t worked it out, was a senior. 18 years of clean cut, square jawed, over muscled, pure American high school football hero. And for some reason I hadn’t yet figured out, he didn’t like me. I don’t recall getting to my feet, and I don’t really recall throwing the punch that blacked his eye, but apparently, I did. That said, it was pretty much a one-sided contest after that and I took quite a pasting before Justin was dragged away from me by some of his team mates when teachers began to arrive on scene to find out what was going on.

Because of a suspected concussion from the head impact with the door, and a broken nose I’d ended up with in the fight that followed, it was over a week before I was deemed fit enough to go back to school and by then the truth had pretty much been established. It wasn’t my version of the truth. The interview with the Principal was short, one way and most definitely without coffee. The Principal was at pains to point out that the school had extended me every opportunity to excel, realised that I was well above average in academic abilities and had advanced me a class beyond my age group. And yet in only my second week I had assaulted a fellow pupil and, well, there was the matter that lay behind that confrontation. The options presented to my dad were simple. He could either withdraw me from school, in which case ‘the other matter’ would be of no concern to the school, or I would be expelled. And of course, if I was expelled, a particularly distasteful can of worms was going to be opened.

So, that’s how I ended up here at the Allegheny River College, a private boarding school run on military lines out in the back of Nowhereville, USA. Dad decided that me spending time in a military style school would be better than shipping me back home to England, and raise fewer questions there. Make no bones about it, I’m still pretty much in disgrace in his eyes. Though the idea was that this place would be a clean start for me, it hasn’t turned out that way. One of the boys here had family in Oakdale who knew someone who’d heard things, and obviously there aren’t that many 14-year-old English boys who suddenly switch schools in this corner of Pennsylvania. Or anywhere in Pennsylvania to be fair. Rumours spread.

On the face of it, some guys might actually be proud of the reputation that is being attributed to me.  You know the sort of thing. “Cocky English kid turns up at elite High School, steals the hottest girl around from the football captain, nails her, then goes down fighting valiantly when the whole team turn up to dish out retribution. And he was only bloody 15.”  Well, the guys here wouldn’t say ‘bloody’ of course, they have their own quaint colonial adjectives instead, but my mates back home in England would. And believe it too. As I said, the version everyone talks about is the one which gets accepted as the truth.

Now you might think that things can only get better from here on in. That I’ll be a model of good behaviour, do well here at the college, find a way to tell my dad what really happened and be totally redeemed, maybe even manage to retain those undeserved bits of my reputation that will make my mates envious of my year in America.

Absolute bollocks can things get better.

I’m lying here paralysed.

No, not physically paralysed, like as if my neck was broken, though that option is likely a very real possibility in the next minute. I’m paralysed with fear. I’m in bed with Shane, one of my six room mates in this dormitory, squashed between him and the wall, one of my arms trapped under his neck and the other wrapped around him, just like I’m cuddling him. And I’ve got a morning boner. As if that isn’t bad enough, my dick is pushed right up against his arse because I’m stuck here between him and the wall and there is no way I can move without waking him. If I were a bear I’d be gnawing off my arm right now so I could escape before he wakes up. This is not going to be easy to explain, assuming I even get the chance. In my experience of late, Americans really do seem to jump to conclusions and shoot first rather than ask questions. It’s not just Shane I have to worry about either. There are four other 15 year old cadets just teetering on the edge of consciousness in their beds, and the 18 year old dorm senior too. Kyle. Six feet tall and 180 pounds of blue-eyed buzz cut muscle. He’s Shane’s cousin. Or half cousin. Or uncle. Something like that. They’re all bloody interbred hillbillies round here.  

The biggest problem is I can’t explain this situation to myself, so what chance do I have with Shane? No, not the bit about being in his bed. That’s not the issue. He knows I’m here. They all do. It was Shane’s idea for fuck’s sake !  Things got a bit out of hand last night in the water fight, and when some idiot thought it would be a good idea to escalate from water pistols to a bucket my bed got deluged. Now we weren’t going to go and get the staff involved were we, because that would be the only way to get me a new mattress and blankets, but then Kyle would have been chewed out for letting things get out of control in the dorm, and then he’d have taken it out on us in turn. Shit rolls down hill. It’s the way armies work. Military colleges too. So, purely as an expedient, Shane had told me to get in his bed and sleep and then in the morning we’d figure out a way of drying mine off during the day.  Well, actually, it hadn’t been Shane’s idea for me to sleep with him, not initially. Kyle had said that.

“Share somebody else’s bed tonight and we’ll sort it in the morning,” he barked.

There hadn’t actually been a rush of volunteers, and Shane had pointed out that as it was Kyle’s neck that was first in line for the chop if we got the staff involved, then it was down to him to sleep with me. “Lead by example, Senior.”

There had been a moment of quiet, everyone looking awkwardly at Kyle and then he had spoken, quietly, looking directly at Shane. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?” I got the impression that there was something going on that I didn’t fully understand, even if all the others did. I’m the new boy, remember? After a few more exchanged glances between the group, Shane had agreed. “You can share my bed.”

The mood quickly changed and there had been quite a bit of joking and teasing later that night as we all trooped back from the washrooms and started to get ready for bed. Shane’s bed was in the corner of the dorm, pushed up against the wall, and I’d climbed in first – “I want an escape route if you get frisky” he’d joked. We’d both lay there stiffly on our backs as the rest of the lads carried on the teasing but gradually they had drifted off to sleep, as had we.

I was so lost in my efforts to think how I’d come to put my arms around Shane, why I was snuggled up to him, why, inexplicably, I had noticed how soft and sweet smelling his curly hair was, that I didn’t realise he was now awake. His words cut through me like a knife.

“Kyle, guys, I think I’m about to take one for the team. Craigy’s got a boner.”

I swear my heart stopped.

It kick-started when he pushed back against me, wiggled his pyjama clad arse against my dick, turned his head to look at me. He was laughing.

Everyone was wide awake, laughing as I sat bolt upright in bed, freeing myself from Shane, awaiting his inevitable punches. None came. He was still smiling.

“Don’t worry,” came a voice, Will’s I think, from the other side of the room. “We won’t tell that you cried, Shane. We’ll vouch that you took it like a man.”

Now I laughed too. Maybe they weren’t going to kill me on the spot. Shane was looking up at me. “Relax Craig”, he smirked, “Everybody gets a boner in a morning. Especially if they are sleeping with me. Now just get the fuck out of my bed and go whack off in the showers.”

I could feel my face burning as I leapt out of Shane’s bed, grabbed my towel and fled down the corridor towards the washrooms. It wasn’t just burning with embarrassment, or even the stinging parody of my accent and the comment that followed me, “Bloody uptight Brit”. It was more than that. Something was still eating away at my subconscious. Why the hell was I thinking how good Shane smelled? How soft his hair was?

* * *

It was a Saturday morning and so the regime was a little more relaxed than on weekdays. I’d had time to have a good wank in the shower and get my dick back under control when the other guys started to troop into the washroom. My towel was wrapped around my waist and I was studiously concentrating on the mirror in front of me, brushing my teeth and avoiding all eye contact as my room mates began to strip off and shower. It wasn’t that I hadn’t seen them naked before, after all I’d been showering in there with them every morning and night for the three weeks I’d been here and seen all there was to see of them. It had been mildly satisfying too to note that, barring Kyle, who was four years older, I was the biggest and best developed of them all, cock- wise if not bodily, despite being the youngest. Okay, not by much in a couple of cases, but still enough to count. A few of them, Shane included, didn’t any pubic hair yet, which struck me as a bit weird given how muscled and masculine most of them were. My mates back home all had cock hair by the time they were 14, definitely by 15. Is it something with American genes that retards their development? Oh, and they were all circumcised. Now that’s rare back home.

Kyle was there too now, standing in front of a wash basin and mirror at the far end of the row. Shaving. Subconsciously I stroked a finger tip across my own cheek, watching as he soaped his face and began to slide the razor across it. It would be a while before I needed to shave. It had been my 15th birthday just the day before I was sent here and one of the presents I’d received had been a razor in a small leather presentation case. For a moment I’d felt grown up, even if I knew I wasn’t going to need it anytime soon. I hadn’t packed it to bring with me but when I’d opened my bags on the first day in the dorm, there it was. Dad must have put in there. He hadn’t said anything but then we hadn’t been talking much in the days before I left Oakdale.

My eyes followed the swoop of Kyle’s razor down across his throat, then continued down to his chest. There was a light fuzz of short, blond hair between his nipples, then a smooth expanse of rippled abdomen until a trace of hair resumed just below his belly button and disappeared down below his towel. I glanced swiftly back up as he spoke abruptly, his voice directed at the guys in the showers, ordering them to quit horsing around. When I glanced back towards him, Kyle was staring right at me in the mirror. He didn’t say anything but the hair on the back of my neck bristled as I realised he had seen me looking at him as he shaved. I don’t know why I felt uneasy, guilty almost, but I did.

* * *

Breakfast was almost normal for a weekend. We were all dressed in smart casual clothes rather than the weekday uniform and gathering in small groups, usually all the guys from the same dormitory together at a table, and helping ourselves to food from the buffet style breakfast. On weekdays, breakfast was earlier and more formal, as were all meals. Then all 150 boys at the college were seated according to seniority and the cadet ranks they held, with staff on a separate raised dais at the far end of the wood panelled room. I was right down as far away from that as it was possible to get. New boy, bottom of the hierarchy.

I was tucking in to ham and eggs, which seemed the nearest thing to a proper breakfast I could find compared with the pancakes, maple syrup, waffles and corn grits (what the fuck are grits?) that the other lads were devouring. Thankfully nothing more had been said about the earlier events of that morning, everyone else seemingly having lost interest in my embarrassment and panic.

“So, what are you doing after your morning class Craigy?“ asked Travis, another of my room mates. I hate being called Craigy but they all think it’s funny and I know the more I protest about it, the longer the name will stick. So I kept my peace and just smiled. As a late arriving freshman, and an alien at that, I wasn’t yet co-opted into any of the Saturday morning squad activities like tactics or map reading. That didn’t mean I would be allowed to idle though: if I wasn’t learning how to be good cannon fodder for Uncle Sam I would be exiled to the library for a few hours studying civics and American history. I took consolation in the fact that there were only a few hundred years of the latter, hardly worth breaking out a new pencil for really.

Travis persisted. “Shane and I are going down into town after lunch, getting proper haircuts rather than the butchery they do here. Probably go see a movie too. You’re welcome to join us. Can’t promise a party though…” With that parting barb he got up, wandered off to pour himself another ‘kawfee’ and find some more responsive company for the half hour remaining before classes started. Hell, I should stop being such an arse. Travis was trying to be friendly and I was probably reading far too much into his remarks. I got up, followed after him, and apologised.

“Sorry, I’d love to come. And don’t worry about the party, I’m done with them. Lifetime ban.”

Travis smirked, but said nothing other than ”Catch you at lunch then.” I figured I’d maybe given him a bit more evidence to share with the rest of the dorm that there was indeed something to the rumours about my partying but I couldn’t keep on just blanking them whenever hints were dropped that they knew something about why I was at the College. Or at least thought they did. Hopefully they’d soon tire of the digging.

* * *

For American history I had to choose a great leader to study in preparation for an exam at the end of semester. That’s what they call their school terms here. Semesters. I guess it makes them feel like they are a university. I think there was a flicker of a raised eyebrow when, after a half hour looking through the list of suggestions and then making my own way through the bookshelves, I selected Tecumseh. He wasn’t on the list. Yes, I know. I should stop being an arse. Blend in.

* * *

It’s a good thing Travis works out so much in the gym because he’s a greedy bastard. The amount of fries (yes, I’m learning the language) he piled alongside his steak at lunch was ridiculous, and then he went back and helped himself to another steak. It’s not as if the standard portions here in America are mean either. Anyway, by two o’clock Shane, Travis and me were fed, watered and on our way into town in the college minibus with a few other guys. Naturally with an admonition from the duty Senior as he stamped our passes reminding us that we were representing the college and our behaviour had to be of the highest order. I say ‘we’ but I’m pretty sure he was looking at me the whole time he was delivering that speech. He didn’t specifically say ‘no fighting, drinking or whoring’ but that’s what they mean by ‘conduct yourselves like gentlemen’ at these colleges.

Once dropped off in town we split from the rest and made straight for the barber. Travis and I got our hair razor cut short as per regulations but Shane is a bit more daring. The sides and back he has razored, not overly short, but the top he keeps long enough to show his blond curls. It looks good on him but when he is wearing his cap he doesn’t stand out from the rest. From what I can gather, Kyle’s never pulled him up on it.

Next stop was a diner. One of those stereotypical American diners we see in the movies with red pvc seating in booths and chrome trim everywhere. I wasn’t even hungry. Not that that counted for anything. When the waitress appeared and asked ‘what you fine young college boys’ wanted I got ‘kawfee’ and apple pie ordered for me before I could say a word. I drank the coffee and with Travis around my portion of pie didn’t go to waste either.

A few minutes later Travis excused himself to go and get something or other from the store across the street, promising to join us later at the cinema. That left me alone with Shane for the first time that day. As you’ll have gathered, there’s virtually no privacy back at the college and I needed to talk to him, tell him how sorry I was about, well, you know what. Make it clear that there was no, well, err… Fuck, what should I say? I didn’t have a clue. My mouth opened, and I said his name, but then the words dried up.

Shane was looking at me, those big blue eyes drilling deep into me, his perfect white teeth arrayed in the most awesome smile I could ever recall seeing.

“I…, er… about this morning…”  I was acutely aware that I must have sounded like a complete mong.

He didn’t seem to bloody care. He’s got to be the kindest, most good natured, kid I think I’ve ever met. I can’t imagine there’s a single malicious cell in his entire body. He‘s just sitting there, waiting, expecting me to say something and then realising I can’t. So he says it for me.

“It’s no big deal, bud. We’re teenagers. Dicks r us. Anyway, we know you do girls. We pretty much know why you got sent here to Allegheny Alcatraz.”

“Bud.” No one had called me that before since I arrived. It sort of meant I was welcome. Coming from Shane that meant something.

“So, is it right? About the cheerleader?”

I didn’t want to lie to him. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t honourable when he was being so decent. So honest.

I knew I was going to lie.

He saw my distress. Saved me again. “No need to say anything bud. I was just curious. I’ve never been with a girl. None of us in the dorm has. I was just kind of wondering what it was like. I guess we’ll just have to find out for ourselves come the day.”

Travis was back, dropping down into the seat by my side like the great ginger turnip he is before I could say anything more to Shane.

“Change of plan guys. I’ve just seen Kyle and he’s going to the movies. Not alone either. Let’s cut him some slack and go bowling instead.”

“Kyle’s in town too? Dating a girl?”  I can’t believe I said that out loud. Why it even mattered to me. Not that it does. Matter to me I mean.

Travis and Shane exchanged glances.

“You really are a dumb fuck, Craigy boy,” said Travis. “Yeah, Kyle’s on a date alright, but not with a girl. He’s gay.”

Shane was looking at me with those big blue eyes again.

The penny dropped. So that was why Kyle had refused to let me share his bed last night. It wasn’t appropriate.

“Come on Dumb Fuck, finish your kawfee and let’s go teach you to bowl.” Travis slapped my back and virtually dragged me from the booth. I looked across to Shane as Travis was pushing me towards the door. He smiled as he put a handful of dollar bills on the table and waved goodbye to the waitress. Maybe my year here at Allegheny Alcatraz wasn’t going to be so bad.