Chapter 7

First of all, this is dedicated to Melsworld because she is a fabulous individual who has continuously given me feedback on this story, and just because she's amazing. (Thanks for telling me about the misspelling too!)

Ok, this one was really fun writing because I got to be angry, and really, what 16 year old isn't angry at some point in their life? Yay Mr. Whitman! Enjoy!!! :)

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Chapter 7: Cole's POV, Friday night, at the party right before Kent arrived

So, you know the stereotype of how every student-held party is full of drugs, crowds of people, sex, beer pong, and loud music? Well, that stereotype was holding true tonight. Everything was larger-than-life at Caitlin's parties, and tonight was clearly no exception.

I was in a room near the entrance which had a pool table set up in the middle. I was extremely close to winning and just as I was about to take the final shot to sink the eight ball, the door opened and I saw Kent with some guy. Were they here together? I thought furiously, accidentally moving my pool stick too much, hitting the ball, losing a precious turn.

I grumbled that I didn't want to play, and as expected, no one actually gave a damn. At least it was predictable.

I angrily picked up my cup of beer in the stereotypical, red, plastic cups and stormed off to try and rid my agonizing thoughts about Kent and his new boy toy. I thought Kent was better than that....

I had walked, unintentionally, into the dance floor. I sighed, and just went with the flow of the crowd, by just swaying to the heavy beat that consumed everyone's eardrums.

A girl had appeared in front of me, and she looked good, but she was trying just too hard; she had clip-on blonde extensions, a skirt that wasn't really a skirt at all, a low-cut v-neck which showed off her extra-large cleavage, and her shirt was way too small for her. Typical slut, and totally not my type, especially since Kent was still in this room somewhere.

She placed her manicured hands on my waist and began to move with me, practically humping me, just trying to get into my pants I assumed. I mentally gagged at her desperation as she slid her long, dainty fingers underneath my shirt and moaned. Really? I thought.

“You're body makes me want you even more,” Her brown eyes were filled with pure lust, and for the first time in my life, I was completely repulsed by her advances towards me.

“How about I go and get you a drink, and then we can have some fun upstairs?” I merely suggested.

The slut nodded and whispered in my ear, “I'll be waiting, big boy,”

I winked at her one last time and went off in my quest to find Kent and maybe even punch the guy he was with as, hopefully, a mere friend.

Just as I was about to leave after a while of fruitlessly searching for him, I found Kent. He was dancing with that same guy from before when he had entered. I leaned against the wall, watching them dance together.

I couldn't hep but notice how good Kent looked tonight, but what pissed me off a lot was how good the guy with him looked. Kent was smiling as the bastard whispered something to Kent, who seemed confused in return. And then something terrible happened: that fucking bastard kissed Kent. I was as pissed as a bull who had been placed in a red room.

Kent looked happy after the kiss; that crushed what little sanity I had left.

I decided to now call Kent's date Mr. Man-whore.

I was about to storm over to them, but, luckily, I then realized that if did that, wouldn't I be admitting my love for Kent in a not-so-subtle way by punching, what was now clear to me, as his date?

If only I'd acted sooner on my first feelings for Kent....

I watched, filled with envy as they moved over to a loveseat against a wall where Kent sat on Mr. Man-whore's lap, and they talked for a bit, and then they made out for a good few dozen minutes. Now as much as it turned me on to see Kent kiss like the way he currently was, I also hated every second of it just as much, if not more.

I stormed out of the party before I could watch anymore. Caleb would have to find his own damn ride. When I got into my truck, I realized something, and I began to question it: was I developing a larger-than-life crush on Kent, the sweet, smart, caring neighbor of mine? I wasn't gay, or at least so I thought, since I didn't feel this way about any other guy, but I now was willing to accept my feelings for Kent. So was I just gay for Kent, because that's what it seemed like right now, sitting in my truck alone, recalling my emotions from when I had saw Kent and Mr. Man-whore.

I sat in the car, figuring out what I should do now that I knew that I probably won't be able to get Kent to go out with me for a while. I realized how little that I actually knew about Mr. Man-whore, so I decided to make it a priority of mine to find out his actual name, and then find any and all revealing dirt on him to convince Kent to dump that douche-bag.

I'm so evil, it's almost funny. Almost.

-Time-skip: Saturday, Eleven o'clock in the morning, at the local mall-

I realized that since it was Saturday, there was only a slim chance if I was hunting for Mr. Man-whore, so I decided to hit the mall, since that was the only place for teenagers to hang out and do what else teenagers did, despite living in California, supposedly the place of sand, sun, and surf. Well, yeah, we had that too, but I didn't think that Mr. Man-whore looked like the surfing type. He probably worked in the mall like most of the other upperclassmen at school, and if I had to guess, he worked in some clothing store, since the mall was full of them.

So I tried out the most likely place he would work: Abercrombie and Fitch. Upon entering, the store, I was greeted by a chipper young girl. She looked nice, but then again, a lot of girls looked at me and tried to get me to go out on a date with them, to no avail, usually, might I add.

I walked around the store, making sure no one that worked there looked like the guy that I saw last night. I was about to give up until I saw a guy come out of the back storage room carrying an armful of shirts. It was him, Mr. Man-whore. I could feel my pulse begin to pick up its pace, and my anger was on the brink of overflowing. I kept repeating to myself that beating him up in public probably wasn't a very good idea only because if I was in jail, I wouldn't be able to even see Kent at all.

So I waited for him to take his lunch break, luckily I didn't have to wait much longer, and I followed him to the food court, where he met up with some other guys that I knew for a fact didn't go to our school.

I sat away from their table, but I was close enough to eavesdrop on their conversations rather well without them knowing about it.

“So, Tyler, how was the party last night?” One of the thicker-built guys asked, biting into a cheeseburger.

So Mr. Man-whore's name was Tyler, eh? My name was a lot sexier than his, so I felt a small smile creep it's way onto my face.

“Oh, dude, it was great,” I could hear the arrogance and cockiness in Tyler's voice. “I even got my plan to start working, and Kent is head-over-heels for this piece of meat. You should have seen his fucking face,” I heard a sound that sounded like a fake surprise gasp, and then some laughing from his buddies. The rowdy boys were even slamming the tables while the laughed like the neurotic neanderthals that they were.

My hands clenched the table to the point where my knuckles were completely white. What was so funny about Kent? I was dying to know, and was really close to blowing my cover too. However, I managed to keep my cool by taking a bite of my pizza.

“Is his house really the shit?” Another one of Tyler's friends prodded.

“Hell yeah,” Tyler sounded appalled at the thought of it being anything less than 'the shit'. It's it's own zip code, practically. I can't wait until he invites me inside of it,” Tyler's voice trailed off a he got up with his posse and left the food court.

I still was sitting in my seat, dumb-struck. What was Tyler doing to my Kent?

Wait, my Kent? I thought it over for a second, and decided that I actually like the sound of it; it just confirmed the fact that he was mine alone and no one else. I blushed a bit at the thought of Kent...how embarrassing, at least Kent wasn't here to see that....

I shook the thought away as I went back to my truck and mulled over what Tyler had said. Something about what he was saying was really unnerving to me, but I couldn't put a finger on exactly what it was...dammit....

I got in and drove back to the hotel where all of my stuff was, including my cell phone, which was ringing now, just as I walked into my room.

“Hello?” I asked, sitting on the bed as I kicked off my shoes, curious as to who would have called me at about three o'clock on a Saturday afternoon.

“Good afternoon, this is Cole, correct?” The voice was gruff and professional. “It's me, Mr. Whitman. I was wondering if you were available tomorrow to discuss your legal options for court, since the police sent me a letter saying that they were going to press charges against you for animal cruelty and attempted manslaughter. I'm sorry about their outcome, Cole,”

I sighed, knowing well that it may have come to this just because of the knife in my room. “Yeah, I'm available tomorrow, what time were you thinking of meeting me?”

“How about four o'clock tomorrow at a friend's restaurant, I'll text you the address after this conversation. How does that sound?”

“That sounds great, but wait, what about my clothes, is there a dress code? Because I don't have anything formal to wear....” My voice trailed off as I heard Mr. Whitman chuckle through the phone.

“Of course, I understand your concern, but there is no need to worry. I've sent out a selection of suits tonight specifically for you from what your brother and Kent described, and the clothes that you didn't take with you from your old home. Trust me, Cole, I've thought of everything. I didn't get to be the best lawyer in America for just being a good lawyer.”

“Ok then, so one o'clock tomorrow?” I asked just to make sure.

“Yes, and I'll be bringing Kent along, if you don't mind. He said that he needs to see you in person for something, but I don't know what it is because he refuses to tell me,” his voice had a strong, evident undertone of concern, but I wouldn't push him into telling me more after all that he has done for me. That would just be rude.

“Yeah, that's cool with me, goodbye, Mr. Whitman,” I said as he also said goodbye to me and he hung up his phone. I closed my phone after receiving the address and typing it into the computer, and then there was a knock at my door.

I opened it to see a young man holding about ten different suits. “You're Mr. Bradley, right?” He asked.

I nodded and let him into my room and he placed the suits on the bed, spacing each of the out evenly. He stood there kind of awkwardly, as if waiting for something. “Oh, my apologies, sir, Mr. Whitman told me to tailor all of these to you if one didn't fit correctly.” The young guy twiddled his fingers and shifted a bit.

I nodded, changing into all of them and having the guy fix each pant leg and jacket seam, even if I thought that it didn't need anything done to it.

When the guy finished, he looked at all of the suits and smiled at the, as if they were his own children. “There,” He said, “All finished,” He left the room and didn't even wait for a tip. When I tried to give him a tip, he simple said, “Oh, I can't accept that, sir, Mr. Whitman already pays me so much,”

I nodded at his him as a farewell and he left, leaving all ten suits on my bed, all of them waiting for me to pick one of them. I looked at each of them more closely, and realized that all of these were designer suits: Calvin Klein, Michael Kors, Alexander McQueen, Dolce and Gabanna, and a whole lot of other designers that I didn't even know about at all. But then again, this didn't surprise me much coming form Kent's family.... I eventually picked one of them, hung all of them up in my massive closet and jumped into bed, content in knowing that I would see Kent tomorrow.

“Kent,” I quietly whispered before falling asleep immediately.

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At least you now know how Cole feels for Kent staight from his mind. See, Mr. Whitman is an awesome dad, and he gets better soon too!

Vote and comment please!

~Michael