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in horror.
    "Dude, did he eat it?" Clark sounded so aghast that Jared had to laugh.
    "Served it to guests, I believe." Jared teased. Clark gagged, and Alex looked a bit pale around the gills.
    "That is sort of nasty," Alex said. "Why would a guy wake up and say, "I think I'll screw the turkey today?"
    "Ah, yeah, that's my point, I doubt he got up and said that. I think it's more like, 'Dude, that turkey is warm and that stuffing is soft. I wonder how it'd feel if I… ahhhhh'." Jared tried to say it with a straight face, but with teenage boys groaning, howling, and falling off the edge of the bench, it proved impossible. The ducks were very interested in Clark rolling around, losing duck chow everywhere, and when he finally came to a stop one perched on his butt. He lay on his stomach staring up at Jared.
    "We did not need a blow by blow description," he said.
    "Blow!" Alex yelled, and they both lost it again.
    Jared sat on the bench, looking over the pond while they rolled around his feet.
    "So what's wrong with me?" Alex sat up, crossing his legs Indian style.
    "Where to start," Jared muttered, and Alex glared.
    Clark barked another laugh.
    "Alex, you have to stop judging yourself by the standards of society. Try pretending being gay is the same as being straight. Because it is, you know. Only society makes a difference between them, but you have to learn to accept yourself. Stop worrying about 'what' you are. Straight guys never think about it. You have to believe that being gay is normal. Really believe it, and you'll be fine." Jared met Alex's eyes, trying not to get lost in the incredible rich color. He couldn't afford that. "Society says if you have intercourse with men, and you are a man, then you're gay. That's flawed logic. If guys can screw watermelons and turkeys, then gay guys can do girls and straight ones can make it with guys. It's what's going on in your head that defines your orientation." Jared leaned forward. "Where do you see yourself in ten years, Alex? When you fantasize about your future, who are you with? Those things, more than anything else, reveal your orientation."
    Alex looked at Jared, his eyes thoughtful. Clark grabbed for the Frisbee and jumped up, shedding duck chow and ducks. Alex got to his feet, dusting off his jeans.
    "In ten years, I'll be a graduate of MIT. I'll have my degree in architecture, and I'll be partners with the best contractor in the business." His eyes glinted with mischief, and something more, something a little darker and a whole lot more dangerous. He held Jared's gaze. "And I'll wake up every morning next to you."
    Clark winked. "Told you he was still gay." They took off across the grass.
    Clark wouldn't throw the Frisbee, so Alex tackled him. Jared stared after them, but his attention fixed on Alex. Jared indulged himself, watching Alex play, the movement of his body, the flash of the sun on his dark curls, and his smile that lit the world. After a few minutes, Jared laughed, bringing his flighty thoughts back to reality. Alex was fifteen; his dreams would change a hundred times before realizing one. When he was grown and ready for a lover, Jared would be a thing of his past.
    "Jared, come on!" Alex yelled, and even though the books needed balancing before Monday, Jared played Frisbee with the boys.

Wisdom

    "I saw you at the ice cream shop the other day."
    Jared met his mother's eyes across the table. They ate lunch together several times a week, a habit Jared enjoyed.
    "And you didn't offer to buy me a cone?" he teased, flashing his smile.
    They were at her favorite restaurant, a small English pub that served wonderful food in an intimate atmosphere. Even at midday, the lighting subdued, a single lamp cast an island of light around their table.
    "You weren't alone," she said, concern evident in her eyes and her tone. But she didn't pry. His mother never did.
    "Alex," Jared said, wondering exactly what he revealed in how he said the name. It was too familiar on his