Chapter 14

So, this is the first part of the warehous scene, and since it is a bit long, I am splitting up the chapter into two, maybe three parts since I don't want to write that much all in one chapter. Hey, I'm a teenager, and teenagers are lazy.

Also, Tyler's ideas do not reflect my personal views at all, in fact, I was disgusted reading them. I hate Tyelr too, if it's any consolation for your angry souls.

A bit more mild language, but hopefully, you still enjoy it!

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Chapter 14: Tyler's POV, in the Warehouse, Wednesday night

I watched suspiciously as the central conveyor belt began to rattle and shake as its lights turned on, despite it's sorry-looking condition.

I looked around the room, trying to see if someone else was here from the moonlight, but more importantly, who the fuck called me here. Why the hell would someone tell me to come here if they weren't even going to come themselves?

Then, the conveyor belt began to move and turn, sending something out of it for me to see: another letter that was only folded in half and it was titled: For Tyler. And it was in the same messy handwriting from the first letter. It read:

Dear Fuck-face,

So, I applaud you on coming in the first place. Also, if you were wondering who called you here anyway, you'll find out soon enough, don't worry. But first, why don't we have some nice conversation and questions first through the wonderful old-fashioned way of writing; the base off of what this country, and the rest of the world, started using as the first means of mass communication. Now, you'll see that there are two other conveyor belts next to you; one of them has the pen, while the other has the paper. Just push the button underneath the machine itself for it to work correctly. We'll start off with an easy question: Are you currently going out with or did you ever go out with someone by the name of Kent Whitman?

Love,

Mr. B.

P.S.

You need to read everything, both the question and answer, out aloud or I will do what I promised and release every little secret that I was able to dig up on you, and my what a long list of secrets you have, Tyler; a whole three pages on Microsoft Word.

I sighed at the stupidity of this all, but, knowing what secrets would ruin my entire life if other people found out about them, I knew that I would have to play by whatever rules this guy wanted me to play by...at least, until I saw him in person, then I could just shoot him, and then get one of my friends to say that I was with him for the entire time since I lie for them as well.

That would be the easiest part probably.

I smiled, content with my wicked yet simple plan and pushed the button on the conveyor belt to the left of me and a single pen came from the machine. I walked to the other machine and pushed the button on that one too and a spiral notebook came from the machine this time.

I opened to the first page in the notebook to find the original question written there as well. What, did this guy think that I couldn't remember something that I had in my hand when he just told it to me not even two minutes prior?

I quickly scribbled down my response and recited it so that it was loud enough for anyone inside of this cavernous warehouse to hear me. “Question: Are you currently going out with or did you ever go out with someone by the name of Kent Whitman? Response: Yes, I am going out with Kent Whitman.”

I slid the notebook back onto the conveyor belt and pushed the button underneath the belt and watched the notebook disappear into the darkness of the machine.

After standing in the same spot for only a minute or two, the contraption began to move again, sending out the notebook out once more to me.

I picked it up again as I moved to sit on one of the other machines and skimmed the question and wrote my response, and read it out loud. “Question: Are you gay, or have you ever been curious? Answer: No, I think that two guys together is completely wrong.” What the fuck was the point of these questions? How did this help either of us in any way, shape, or form?

-Paul's POV, Wednesday night, in a limo-

Luckily, I actually was sick so the staff sent me home after calling Mr. and Mrs. Whitman to tell them that I would be on my way home early, but it would still take a few hours.

Soon, a limo somehow appeared at the front of the camp waiting to pick me up from the camp to take me home, on orders from Mr. Whitman. When I asked the limo driver who would be there at the house told me that Mrs. Whitman would be home waiting for me when I got there.

“How did you get here so fast?” I asked, amused by the dirver's mustache.

“Mr. and Mrs. Whitman have limo centers across the state in case of thing like this, where someone may need to get home early from a faraway distance, but an airport is nowhere in sight.” Them man made a turn onto a freeway. “Does that explain everything?”

I nodded and smiled at the fact of knowing that Mrs. Whitman would be the one to see me. She was much more likely to believe my hunch about Cole, and maybe even Kent, being in danger.

However, all that I knew was that I'd do everything that an eight-year old could do to make sure his older brother was safe.

-Cole's POV, Wednesday night, in the warehouse-

I smiled from across the room behind a couple of large chairs as Tyler was doing everything that I needed him to do for me to get Kent all to myself. And the best part was that I was managing to get all of Tyler's confessions on a tape recorder managed to create the perfect plan, I probably wouldn't even need to use the gun in my pocket.

So, my plan was simple: I first went to the mall and bought a tape recorder. Then I went to a place called Re-builders where they only made things from old, broken pieces of machinery and learned how to make a flat vacuum for the notebook. I also had to go to a place which dealt with wireless transmitters, but after looking at the price, I just went back to Re-builders and they also showed me how something could be set up so that it would cause a reaction. I used the weight of the notebook for the central conveyor belt, and only one-time reactors for the other two in case Tyler was getting lazy and sat down on the as a seat...which he did of course.

“Question: How do you feel about gays in general? Answer: I think that they are completely wrong ad have no morals. I also think that they deserve to burn in hell for their ways.” Tyler was answering the third question, and I had decided that I would pick the five questions that would most upset Kent.

The notebook appeared in front of me once more, and I carefully picked my words for the next question, tapping the pencil against my chin, hoping that it wasn't loud enough for anyone, mainly Tyler, to hear.

I wrote down the fourth question and placed the notebook into the vacuum, letting the sound of the machine fill the empty room.

I was surprised at how harshly and angrily Tyler wrote everything down; I could hear him writing furiously on the paper from across the room.

“Question: Did you ever have sex with anyone else while you were 'with' Kent? Answer: Hell yeah, I'm a good-looking guy, of course I'm going to get laid by some of those smoking hot girls, like Caitlin Castle, and damn, was she good.... I only told everyone at school that I'm gay because all of the gays at school are filthy rich.”

I silently gagged at the thought of someone thinking that Caitlin was on the top of their list of people that they wanted to fuck, and then thought of Tyler actually thinking that she was good...that really didn't help the nauseous feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.

I shook my head, trying to clear my head of that disturbing image and wrote down the final question that would seal Tyler's fate and bring Kent right into my arms.

I even smiled as I sent it through the vacuum to Tyler.

Tyler was now busy reading the fifth, and most important question and his response to it.

“Question: Why did you ask Kent out in the first place, and did you enjoy the time that you spent with him? Answer: Because who the fuck doesn't want to go out with someone for their money when they're the richest person in the state, knowing that they were way too stupid to see through an act that was as well-executed as mine? No, I hated every second of it because Kent is a gay, dumb-ass loser with no actual purpose in life.”

Hearing those words made by blood boil; how could anyone hate Kent? He was nice, sweet, smart, and he was amazingly cute when he got flustered or nervous...that's not the point though. Kent is, without a doubt, the best guy in the world and I'd do anything, no questions asked, to keep him safe from anything.

I also hated how his only real reason for hating Kent, in his answer anyway, was the fact that he was gay. What the fuck was wrong with a guy loving another guy? How many gay couples do you see lined up for divorce attorneys, because I know that there are marginally less gay couples getting a divorce than straight couples. And another thing bugged me: why was it that most guys were ok with two girls making out, yet hated the idea of two guys merely holding hands?

Love was still love, regardless of who it's between.

Tyler placed the notebook back onto the conveyor belt and it came shooting back to me as soon as it disappeared out of my sight.

I smiled and was content enough to wrap this session up and get the hell out of here.

-Kent's POV, Wednesday night, behind a table in the warehouse-

As I heard Tyler's confession about the real purpose of him being with me. During the drive over here, I was also thinking of how to break up with him so that he didn't suspect Cole having to do with anything, although I doubt that the first person that Tyler would think of would be Cole, still needed to be sure, just in case. Clearly, Tyler had some problems, and I didn't want to cause any more.

I was also doing rather well suppressing my tears over him after I thought that I had released all of them to Cole earlier tonight, but unfortunately, I was very wrong.

Tears still flowed from my eyes along with the feeling of stupidity and pity for myself. I hated that I was crying, and as I wiped my eyes with one of my wrists, my hand accidentally hit the table and knocked it over onto the ground making a loud noise which billowed across the room.

I froze; I heard steps coming closer and closer to me, panic filling every ounce in my body.

I tied to get up and move from my current position of kneeling on the floor but found that I couldn't due to fear...and the fact that I was kneeling in a big puddle of something sticky and moist.

The steps never stopped; I panicked even more, thinking of something to do to get me away from wherever the person thought that I was.

With no other plan, I took off my jeans and quickly got up and sprinted to the door, which was really only twenty feet away, hoping to escape before anyone saw me with no pants, leaving my underwear visible to anyone who saw me.

Unfortunately, I didn't run fast enough, because a rather strong person tackled me to the ground, making me hit my head onto the concrete.

I tried to scream out in pain from the impact and my surprise, but failed to do so as the person slipped a hand over my mouth and sat on top of me, which made me stop squirming in a futile attempt of escape.

All I wanted to do tonight was to make sure Cole was ok and wasn't lying to me, but then I had to enter this suspicious-looking warehouse, and now it looked like I had been caught. I guess I shouldn't be a spy or an undercover agent...if I ever lived to get the heck out of here.

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So, suspenseful isn't it? Maybe not, I don't know, it depends on the person. Oh, I loved writing Cole's view of love, it made me fell all warm and fuzzy inside and warmed my heart up after writing Tyler's response. Grr, Tyler....

Vote and Comment if you love Cole and Kent together!

~Michael