Unwholesome Things - Part 6

Beta by LP, all remaining mistakes are entirely my fault.

“That's just because you haven't done it enough, once you get used to it you'll like it,” Jeff said.

He seemed to think he knew a lot about what Oren had and hadn't done.

“Right,” Oren said. He began to pack up his art supplies from where they were scattered across the picnic table. He'd spent almost the entire evening at the park being distracted by Jeff; he'd hardly been able to get anything done at all.

“Come on, it's more fun with more people.” Jeff's whine was increasing the shorter his time to argue became. “There's going to be all these couples there and I don't want to be the odd man out.”

“Two couples, Jeff, it's not going to kill you,” Rezo said, without looking up. It was the first thing he'd said in over an hour. All of his focus had been directed at his textbook. If he studied any harder his brains were going to ooze out onto the page, and then he'd never be able to sell it back to the campus bookstore. He should really be more careful.

“I don't want to be a third wheel,” Jeff said.

“The expression is a 'fifth wheel' since a third wheel is actually quite useful.” Rezo noticed Jeff's expression and quickly returned to his studies.

“So will you go?” Jeff asked.

After an awkward moment where Oren refused to answer and Jeff refused to stop waiting for him to, Rezo closed his book.

“Do you have any camping gear?” Rezo asked.

It would have been different if Rezo had been the one to invite Oren in the first place, but he'd seemed fairly indifferent. In addition to his many reasons for not wanting to go, Oren had no desire to be invited as an afterthought.

“Yeah, but—”

“It might be good for you, to rough it a bit.”

“You seem to think a lot of things are good for me.” Even while rolling his eyes Oren could see his comment made Jeff uncomfortable. Good. “And I don't want to interrupt all the couple time.” Especially if Rezo and Marikit were going to be one of those couples. He had no desire to spend a weekend watching that.

“It's just Manny and Will bringing their girlfriends.” Rezo shrugged. “Manny's dad and younger brother are going too, so I doubt there's going to be much couple time anyway.”

“No Marikit?”

Rezo looked puzzled. “Why would she go?”

“Never mind.” Oren ducked his head as if to avoid Jeff and Rezo's questioning stares. “I guess I could go, but I still don't like camping…”

“It'll be fun,” Jeff said, with the gleam of victory in his smile. “Besides it's only for two days.”

Oren knew he should have stuck to his refusal.

It wasn't until they arrived at the campsite that Oren realized this wasn't actual camping. Although he doubted that would make him enjoy it any more. The campground consisted of small, sectioned off areas with individual fire pits and water pumps. Each had its own number and parking spot. As far as roughing it went, they may as well have gone to a motel, sprinkled some dirt in the parking lot, and lit a bonfire out of the bedsheets.

Manny had driven his van, with his girlfriend Alyssa, Rezo, Oren and Jeff as his passengers. Manny was silent as always on the drive, but Alyssa talked enough for all of them. Between her and Jeff, Oren was desperately wising he'd brought something that he could have drowned them out with. Manny's father, who insisted they call him Dan, and his brother, Michael, had driven separately in a pick-up truck. Will had borrowed Rezo's car (heaven help him) to pick up his girlfriend, Jessie, and they were supposed to arrive shortly.

Despite how enthusiastic Jeff had been about coming, he did nothing to help unload the vehicles. Instead he paced back and forth while talking on his cell phone. The van was completely unloaded and they were just starting on the truck, when he finally he came to join them.

“Hey Rezo, your car broke down,” Jeff said, putting his phone back into his pocket.

Oren could have told them that was going to happen.

Rezo dropped the tent he was lifting out of the truck bed. “It can't have.”

“Well, it did.” Jeff shrugged. “Who wants to go get them?”

“That's impossible, I worked on it all day yesterday.”

Oren wisely didn't point out that one day couldn't possibly be enough.

“I'll drive,” Manny said.

“Who wants to stay behind to set up camp?” Dan asked.

“I'll stay,” Oren said. He knew more about tents than cars and he'd prefer to be doing something other than uselessly looking over someone's shoulder.

“Have you ever set up a tent before?” Rezo asked, his assumption that Oren was helpless momentarily distracting him from his worry over his car.

“I can handle it.”

“Michael can stay behind and help him,” Dan said, earning a black look from Michael.

“Well…” Rezo's hesitation was less than flattering. What did he possibly think Oren was going to do? “If you have any questions just ask Michael.”

So not only did Rezo think he was too incompetent to set up some tents, but he expected him to defer to a 14 year old. Wonderful.

Everyone except for Rezo had piled into the van. “You should go before they leave you behind.”

Rezo looked back at the still stationary vehicle.

“One more thing, when inserting the poles you have to be careful not to rip the—”

“Just go. All the tents will be in one piece when you get back.”

“All right,” Rezo said, but he still looked doubtful.

It was amazing how Oren could be so enamored with someone and yet be so eager for him to leave. It was a relief to watch the van pull away; now Oren could work in peace. He decided to start with his own tent since he knew it best. He was in the process of clearing any debris from the ground when he heard Michael gasp.

“Shit! He's going to kill me,” Michael said, staring at his partially unfolded tent.

“Who is?” Oren said, as he came closer. It sounded odd to hear someone else worrying about getting in trouble.

“Our tent—it's mildewed.”

“How is that your fault?”

“I put it away wet and never did anything to dry it out. Dammit, I've already been warned about this.”

“Can't you just air it out a bit?” Although, looking at the fuzzy, splotched material, that didn't seem particularly likely to be successful. But then Oren didn't know much about cleaning and storing camping supplies. That was the kind of thing someone else did after he returned home. “I mean how bad can mildew be?”

“It's bad enough that we won't be able to sleep in it tonight. We'll probably have to throw it out. I'm so dead.”

“So there's no way to clean it?”

“If I had some kind of washing solution, detergent or something, then maybe.”

“I'm sure someone packed dish soap or shampoo.” Oren gestured at the large pile of assorted bags and supplies. “They certainly brought everything else.”

“It won't work, none of that's strong enough.” Michael seemed resigned to his fate.

“What about that convenience store back at the main road?” Oren asked. “They might have something.”

Michael looked up at Oren with hope. “All right, let's go.”

“Let's wait until the others get back, then—”

“But that would be too late!” Michael seemed very attached to a plan that had only existed for less than a minute. “Can't you drive me?”

It made Oren feel somewhat ashamed about what he was about to say.

“I don't have a driver's license.”

“What? But you're in your twenties—”

“Nineteen.”

“Ok, but you still know how to drive, right?”

“No, I've never even tried it.” For the first time Oren was starting to feel embarrassed about it. Maybe Rezo was right in suggesting he defer to Michael. Maybe he did only have the functional age of a fourteen year old.

“Whatever. I can't wait to get my license. I even know how to drive, I'm just not old enough to take the test.”

“We could walk,” Oren said, but he hoped Michael would decline the offer. He hadn't set up even one tent yet, and he wanted to impress Rezo with his parking-lot-campsite tent-pitching-prowess.

What Michael wanted to do, however, was much worse than wanting to walk.

“I could drive down there and be back before they returned.”

“That's a bad idea.” If only Rezo could hear this, he was being the responsible one for once.

“I'll be back in seconds.” Michael sounded very determined.

Oren considered him for a moment. If he wasn't going to be able to talk him out of it, then here was only one responsible thing for Oren to do.

“I'll come with you,” Oren said, setting his unopened tent beneath several others so that if some of them were stolen, his wouldn't be first.

“Thanks.” Michael closed the tailgate on the truck before climbing into the driver's seat. “We'll be back with plenty of time to get the campsite set up, you've seen Rezo's car, it'll take forever to get that thing moving.”

Oren smiled as he got into the passenger side. Finally, someone agreed with him.

Michael wasn't a bad driver. He was very cautious, double checking every move before he made it. They arrived at the convenience store without an incident.

Once inside, however, their luck wasn't as good.

“None of this is going to work,” Michael said, staring in dismay at the travel size bottles of shampoo and body soap.

Oren moved towards the end of the aisle, watching the goods morph quickly from personal care to automotive to souvenirs. It wasn't until he reached laundry that Oren spotted something that had potential.

“They have bleach,” Oren said. “Doesn't that kill everything?”

“Yeah, I think so. But won't it ruin the color?” Michael moved to stand next to Oren, eyeing the bleach bottle as if by staring hard enough he could force it to give up its secrets.

“We could put it in a spray bottle and just lightly mist it.” Oren had no idea if that would work, but it sounded plausible.

“We could also dilute it, that way it won't be so harsh.”

Once it was decided, they bought both the bleach and a spray bottle and then were back on the road.

The drive back wasn't nearly as uneventful as the drive down had been. The problem seemed to have something to do with traveling uphill. Michael stopped at a stop sign and then was almost unable to make the truck go forward again. Each time he took his foot off the brake, they would begin to roll backwards, then he would panic and it would lurch and the engine would die. Just when Oren thought they were going to roll all the way back to the convenience store, Michael finally got it going. There was one more stop sign on the way back, but Michael chose to run it. Oren didn't blame him, cars were apparently more difficult to drive than he had previously thought. After this he decided he was content to let someone else do the driving.

Oren was relieved to find the campsite was exactly the way they'd left it. He'd been worried about leaving it unguarded. But there were no signs of thieves, bears, or other marauding wildlife.

Michael filled a bucket from the water pump and hoisted it over to the tent.

“Should I put it together first?” Michael asked.

“Why?” Oren couldn't fathom why he'd want to touch it more than he had to before it had been sterilized.

“It would make it easier to mist evenly. Will you help me?”

Oren gave him a skeptical look. “There's no reason you can't do it yourself, you just want me to suffer with you.”

“Yeah, so will you?” Michael grinned. “It'll go faster and we'll both suffer less.”

Oren rolled his eyes. “Except that I don't need to suffer at all.” But Oren moved to help him anyway.

Once the tent was up, Michael began to pour the bleach into the spray bottle.

“How much water should I add?” Michael asked.

Oren had absolutely no idea. He considered looking it up on his phone, but decided he was too lazy.

“A lot?” Oren guessed. “Bleach is pretty strong.”

“Ok, I'll do a fifty-fifty mix then.”

Michael began evenly misting the tent, while Oren went to work setting up the other, non-mildewed tents. Despite what Rezo thought, he did have experience doing this, and he hoped to make up for lost time. After a few minutes Michael came to help him. Between them they had all but the last tent put together when Oren glanced over at Michael's tent. What he saw made him nearly drop his mallet.

“Something's wrong with your tent,” Oren said.

“Oh god what now?” Michael looked over at it and froze. “Why is it discolored?”

“The bleach must've lightened it—”

“Lightened it? It's molted!”

“I think the word you want is 'mottled.'”

“I don't care!

“You could say that was what it looked like when you unpacked it.”

“Then it would still be my fault.”

“Let's rinse it off.” Oren picked up the pail that was still mostly full of water and poured it over the tent.

The water went through it like a sieve.

“It destroyed the waterproofing!” Michael was walking in erratic circles in his agitation. “What am I going to do?”

Oren had no idea, but Michael needed to calm down. Mistakes happened. There was no reason to be so unnecessarily dramatic.

“Well, as long as it doesn't rain tonight…” Oren words trailed off as Michael ran his fingers over the material. Bits of it began to flake off and crumble beneath his fingers.

Michael looked like he was about to cry.

“Look at it this way, it went from destroyed by mildew to destroyed by bleach. Either way, it's no worse than it was.”

“Except—”

Their discussion was abruptly halted when they heard the familiar whir and chirp of Rezo's car.

“They're back,” Michael announced unnecessarily. “What do I do with the bleach? My dad can't know I drove his truck.”

“We could hide it,” Oren said, but Michael was already in the process of stuffing the bottle into one of Jeff's designated recycling bags.

Unfortunately, Jeff noticed him do it. “What did you just put in the recycling bag?” Jeff asked, as he walked back into the camp. “That one is for aluminum only.”

“Whoa, what happened to the tent?” Will said. Jeff to paused in trying to get the bag away from Michael to follow Will's gaze.

The tent looked even worse than it had a few minutes before. The wind had increased and pieces of nylon were falling like feathers from the frame. Maybe Michael was right, maybe it was molting.

“I'm dead, dad's going to kill me,” Michael said to no one in particular.

“What did you do?” Jeff asked, but both Oren and Michael ignored him.

Oren's eyes were searching for the two people that were likely to be the most upset by this.

They were together of course. Peering inside the hood of Rezo's car for some final inspection. Rezo was forever being responsible. Oren considered his behavior eerie for someone of his age.

When Oren turned his attention back to the group, Manny, Jessie and Alyssa had disappeared. Oren could only surmise that they'd gone somewhere together. He couldn't blame them, if Manny was more likely to be receptive, Oren would have disappeared with him as well. He was probably a lot less scary than Rezo was about to be.

Except maybe Rezo wouldn't be upset. Oren really hadn't done anything wrong. He didn't ruin the tent, or drive without a license. He didn't do anything but try to help. Nevertheless he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he was overlooking.

When Rezo and Dan finally approached everyone fell silent. Oren almost imagined he could hear Michael's heart pound as they stopped to take in the sight that Michael must've been thoroughly tired of. At that moment Oren was very grateful he wasn't Michael.

“What happened?” Dan asked the question as if it was addressed to the group, but his eyes were locked onto Michael.

“It-it was mildewed,” Michael said. “So I tried to clean it.” He looked down at his shoes. He wasn't very good at this; his posture made it seem like he was lying and he hadn't even gotten to that part yet.

“With what? Acid?” Dan folded his arms in way that reminded Oren entirely too much of Rezo.

“I'd say bleach,” Jeff said, holding up the bottle that he'd retrieved from the bag.

Michael winced. “But I diluted it—”

“Obviously not enough,” Dan said.

Rezo was being uncharacteristically quiet. Oren glanced in his direction. He was leaning against a tree, his pose reminding Oren of a cowboy. It would have been appealing, except that when their eyes met something in his look made the hairs on the back of Oren's neck rise.

“Who brought the bleach?” Rezo asked, still looking at Oren.

Oren closed his eyes and repeated his silent manta. I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't—

“Michael? Where did the bleach come from?” Dan asked, like a bloodhound picking up the scent.

Oren would have to thank Rezo for that later.

Oren opened his eyes and saw Michael wavering. He had the look of desperation that any prey animal had when it knew it had inadequate camouflage. Something had to done.

“I drove down to the store and bought it,” Oren said quickly, before Michael had a chance to speak. “I'm sorry, I'm not used to cleaning and I must've bought the wrong thing.” Oren knew he was going to get it from Rezo later for this, although maybe if he explained why he'd done it, Rezo might be understanding about it.

“It should never have been allowed to mildew in the first place,” Dan said, as dogged as Rezo once he perceived a wrong-doing.

“I know and I'm really sorry, I'll never do it again,” Michael said, finally beginning to look just the slightest bit hopeful.

“Oren,” Jeff said. “I thought Rezo said you couldn't drive?”

This was exactly why Oren didn't like Jeff. He talked too much and nothing he said was ever helpful.

As Rezo's look of disbelief faded, he now appeared to be enjoying Oren's interrogation. His smile was almost smug from where he still leaned against the tree. Oren hoped a spider would crawl on him.

“No, but it was only a short distance and at low speeds.”

“Did Michael ride with you?” Dan asked.

Why would that matter? Oren didn't know if Dan was trying to make Michael take some of the blame or if he'd be in more trouble for bringing Michael with him since he was driving without a license. It was best to minimize the threat, even if it meant another lie.

“No. I went by myself.” The best part about lying was that it was a very black or white concept. You either were or you weren't, so once you started there really was no reason to stop.

“You took the truck?” Jeff asked.

Oren shrugged. “It was the only vehicle here.”

“It's a manual transmission. You can drive that?” Oren watched as Rezo suddenly stood up straight. Rezo might have believed Oren would drive an automatic, but not that.

Dan must have had a similar thought, for he turned to look at his son sharply. Michael, however, was doing his best to avoid his glance.

“I'm not great at it,” Oren said. Unlike Michael, Oren wasn't avoiding Rezo's eyes. Instead he was transfixed by them, as if by a snake. “But I was careful.”

Rezo obviously didn't believe him.

Oren looked at the expressions of those around him and it was evident that no one really believed him. Why did everyone assume he was so helpless? Oren was determined to prove them wrong by the end of the weekend. If he survived that long, of course.

“You drove, didn't you Michael?” Dan's voice was soft, which somehow made it all the more frightening.

“Oren rode with me just in case anything happened,” Michael said, completely shattering Oren's story in only nine words, while simultaneously proving himself to be the worst accomplice ever.

Dan let out a deep sigh, before striding forward to grab his son by the arm. He spun Michael around and started swatting his butt in front of everyone. Oren could only imagine what it would be like to be spanked in front of everyone. It was humiliating enough in private. Oren was grateful Rezo never did anything like that to him.

Yet.

The unwelcome thought caused Oren to shudder. What if Rezo was about to do the same thing to him? Oren pivoted to see if Rezo was approaching with disciplinary intent.

The look on Oren's face must have been telling, for Rezo offered a half smile and shook his head.

“I'm going to gather firewood,” Rezo said. “Oren, will you help me?”

Both Will and Jeff looked like they were searching for an excuse to escape the awkward moment.

“Let's all go—” Jeff started.

“Just Oren.”

That was never good. From Will and Jeff's expressions Oren could only imagine what their interpretation of that statement was. Rezo needed to work on his tact.

As much as Oren wanted to get away from the campsite, he had absolutely no desire to go anywhere alone with Rezo. Michael, however was starting to make noises, and Oren wanted to give him as much privacy as possible. Jeff and Will must have wanted the same thing, for they muttered excuses and vanished.

“Um…” Oren looked at Rezo and knew it was hopeless. He was going to have a discussion. Maybe if he was really lucky all he would get was a stern talking to. Either way he didn't see what choice he had, so he followed Rezo into the forest.

Why did anyone voluntarily go into the great outdoors? The woods were a dangerous and uncontrollable place that humans had steadily built their way out of over thousands of years.

Right now, Rezo was among those dangers.

“Are you going to spank me?” Oren asked, more as a way to open the lines of negotiation than because he had any doubts.

“Definitely.”

“I was only trying to help.”

“Help him do what? Illegally drive his father's truck? Annihilate his tent? What?”

“Look I'm sorry, but what was I supposed to do? He asked me for help.”

“You would have helped him the most by talking him out of it.”

“All right, I won't do it again.”

“I should hope not.” Rezo had stopped moving. That was a bad sign. Oren really wasn't ready for that yet.

“Rezo, please don't do this out here. Let's wait till we get back.”

Rezo shook his head. “Two days is too long to wait.”

Oren completely disagreed about that. Two days was just enough time for him to possibly weasel out of it.

Rezo dragged Oren over to a fallen log and sat down. He pulled Oren in between his knees and began working on unfastening his jeans.

“Leave them up.” Oren clamped his hands over the top button on his pants. “What if someone discovers us?”

“You should have thought of that before you decided to misbehave.” Rezo slapped Oren's hands out of the way, not allowing them to interfere with his progress.

“I didn't even know I was misbehaving.” Oren's only reward for that comment was a stern look.

He felt Rezo's warm thumbs hooking into his waistband as his jeans and boxers were tugged downward. The warm afternoon breeze felt strange on parts of Oren's anatomy that weren't used to being exposed.

“What about you then?” Oren asked.

“What about me?” Rezo didn't seem particularly interested, his focus was now on rolling his sleeves up and out of the way. Rezo was the only one that had worn long sleeves. If Rezo had a different personality, Oren would have thought he'd worn them for the sheer dramatic effect. Regardless of why, the effect was intimidating.

Oren had to try something. “How do you think this would that make you look? Here with me … with my pants around my ankles?”

Rezo ignored him.

“What if—”

Rezo seized Oren and flipped him face down across his lap. His palm landed with a heavy, smack before Oren even had time to settle into position.

Oren grunted. “I'm not ready yet.”

Rezo, as usual, didn't listen to him. His hand cracked again against Oren's pale skin.

“No more lying, if you lie to me again I'm going to use a paddle.” Rezo was keeping up a slow but heavy pace. Giving Oren plenty of time to feel—and dread—each swat.

“I didn't lie to you—ow!” It might have been his imagination, but Oren thought that blow had been exceptionally hard.

“You don't even own a paddle,” Oren said, even though he knew it wasn't the best time to argue.

“No, but you do.”

“Not anymore, I threw it out.”

Rezo stopped, but Oren knew better than to expect that to be the end of it.

“Is that a lie?”

Oren hadn't thought it was possible to feel anymore apprehension than he already did. He was already getting spanked, what more was there to fear? Rezo though, was very good at proving him wrong.

“Of course not,” Oren said carefully.

“When we get back, you can take me to your room and prove to me that it's gone. Because if it isn't I'm going to use it on you right then and there.”

“You can't seriously expect clarity from me right now. I can barely think at all like this.”

“Was it a lie?”

“Rezo…” Oren knew he was whining but he didn't care. He was becoming used to it, he seemed to whine, or cry or do something else unmanly in front of Rezo nearly every week.

“Guess we'll have to check then.” Rezo shifted as he raised his arm in preparation to resume the spanking.

“Wait!”

Oren was surprised when Rezo actually did stop. But his arm hovered in the air, waiting to descend again at any moment.

“You can't expect me to just instantly adjust to a new rule like that. I need time to ease into it.”

“So before this it was ok to lie?”

Oren took a deep breath, giving himself time to attempt to form an answer that didn't sound like an admission of guilt.

“Look, I'm sorry. I won't ever lie again, ok? So let's have it start from now on.” Oren waited for a response but got only silence. “Please?”

“Did you throw away the paddle?”

“Someone ought to tell you it's impolite to be so stubborn.”

“Did you?”

“I should have.”

Rezo slapped Oren's backside hard enough to make him yelp.

“Ok, ok, it's in my closet.”

“So you lied?”

“Obviously…ow!” Rezo brought his hand down hard as he resumed his slow but steady rhythm. “Does that mean…” Oren tried to continue, but the stinging swats made it hard to keep up his end of the conversation.

“That I'm going to paddle you when we get back?”

“Yeah, that.” Oren was beginning to squirm. He felt Rezo tighten his grip to keep him in place.

“We'll see.”

“I thought you said…two days was too long…to worry about it.”

“You're right. So don't think about it, just focus on your spanking now.”

“Rezo—”

“No illegal activities. Period. I shouldn't even have to tell you that.”

“I didn't do anything illegal, Michael—”

“Contributing to the delinquency of a minor, is illegal.”

“Ok, I'm sorry for everything—stop.”

“What if Michael had gotten into an accident?”

“Please, Rezo—” Oren fought to get the words out in between the blows. “You don't want to be too hard on me…they'll be suspicious if my eyes are red…if I have trouble sitting around the fire.”

“This isn't hard on you. You could both be in jail right now. Or seriously hurt.”

Oren began to kick and struggle even though he knew he was unlikely to get free, and even if he did Rezo would simply secure him back over his lap in seconds. Still it hurt too much not to try.

Finally Rezo stopped. He helped Oren to his feet and pulled his pants and boxers up to make them easier for Oren to fasten.

Now that Oren was upright, he felt dizzy with all the blood and endorphins rushing to and from his head. He braced himself against a tree while his fingers fumbled to close his fly. He drew one hand across his face to dash the tears from his eyes. Rezo was getting better and better at coaxing them out of him.

“Are you ok?” Rezo asked.

Oren considered that an odd question from someone who'd just thoroughly reddened his backside. It certainly wasn't the kind of question that deserved an answer. Besides, Oren wasn't certain he could trust his voice.

Oren felt Rezo's hand on his shoulder. He moved to pull away lest Rezo had decided his silence was a beatable offense. Instead he found himself turned around and enveloped in Rezo's arms.

Rezo had never made any attempt to comfort him before. Oren didn't dare question it. He buried his face into the side of Rezo's head, inhaling the scent of his shampoo and what lingered of his aftershave. He was startled when he heard a sob escape from his own throat. He would have been fine if Rezo had simply ignored him. But it was almost impossible to remain stoic when confronted with sympathy.

Rezo rubbed his hands in small circles on his back. Oren felt himself calming all too quickly, his need for reassurance being replaced by a very different kind of need. Finally, when it took everything he had not to nibble Rezo's ear, he forced himself to pull away.

“Better?” Rezo asked.

Oren made a show of brushing away the dirt that had stuck to his palms, from where he'd braced himself during his spanking. He had no intention of answering that question either, although for a different reason.

Instead he said, “Damn it, now my eyes are red. I warned you.”

“At least you'll still be able to sit around the campfire.”

“Right.”

“You'll have time to recover while we gather firewood.”

“What?” Oren's head whipped around to stare at Rezo.

“It'd look suspicious if we came back without any.”

“They're probably going to know anyway.”

“Obviously,” Rezo said, his tone flat.

Oren felt a moment of panic until he saw Rezo suddenly grin.

“You know I hate your sense of humor, right?”

Rezo shrugged, his smile never breaking as he turned back towards camp.

They gathered wood along the trail as they walked. They both wanted to make good time to reduce suspicions about how long they'd been gone. Just before they returned, Oren glanced at Rezo.

“Hey, um Rezo? Thank you for not, um, doing that in front of everyone.” Oren was surprised by how hard that was to say.

“I'm not your father. It would've been weird.”

Oren nodded. “Not to mention humiliating and cruel.”

“There are lots of different parenting philosophies.” Rezo shrugged, at least as much as he could while loaded down with firewood. “But doing it in public does make the heart to heart talk a little less, well, heart to heart.”

Oren gave him a critical look. “You mean the lecture?”

“Well if you want we could skip that part and just go straight to the thwacking—”

“That's alright. I'm sure the heart to heart is very beneficial for my moral conduct, or something.”

They walked in silence for a while. Oren was surprised by how far away they'd gone; it had seemed like a much shorter distance when he'd been filled with dread.

“There's something I wanted to ask you,” Rezo said after a while.

Oren turned to give him his full attention. Any question that required a preface was bound to be interesting.

“How big is your tent?” Rezo asked.

That question, however, was a total disappointment.

“It sleeps four,” Oren said. “At least that's what the packaging claims, but they never really mean it.”

“Mine sleeps three. Since yours is bigger, would you consider loaning it to Michael and his dad?”

“Um,” While Oren could see how they were justified in taking his tent, there was one major problem with that idea. “Where would I sleep?”

“With me.”

Oh, if only he could take that literally.

Oren hesitated. “Are you sure you'd be comfortable—”

“Don't be an idiot.”

“I'm not an idiot. I'm tying to be considerate of your—”

“I'm not worried about it.”

Oren was getting tired of Rezo's abrupt tone and the constant interruptions.

“You're the one that said I was a pervert, the one that accused me of having victims.”

Rezo shrugged. “If it came down to it, I could take you in a fight.”

“Yeah right.”

Rezo cocked an eyebrow at him. “So you submit to me because…? ”

“Alright, you wanna go? Let's go. I'll show you who could take whom.” Oren glared at Rezo. They had both come to a stop, but only Oren appeared to be upset by the exchange.

“Ok.” Rezo dropped all of his firewood. He grinned as he advanced toward Oren.

Oren heard the sound of his own wood clattering to the ground before he even realized he'd let go of them. Without being aware of what he was doing he scrambled backwards to get away from Rezo.

“That's what I thought,” Rezo said.

“It's not like that,” Oren said, despite the color he felt rising in his cheeks. He hadn't actually expected Rezo to call his bluff. “It's just, if we take any longer the others will notice.”

“You're the one that wanted to fight.” Rezo began to pick up the wood he'd dropped.

“Rezo, just shut up.”

“You going to make me?”

That was it. Oren's patience was officially depleted. He picked up a small piece of kindling and chucked it at Rezo's head. Putting years of poor performance in gym class to shame, his aim was exceptionally accurate.

The ping of kindling off of Rezo's temple jolted him into dropping his reacquired supply of firewood. His eyes locked onto the culprit as he sprinted towards him.

What had he done? Oren yelped and tried to dodge him, but this time Rezo was serious. He moved with a speed that reminded Oren exactly how much he needed to start spending more time working out. In seconds Rezo had him pinned with his back against a tree and his arms above his head. Oren arched his back to keep his sore bottom from pressing against the bark.

“You seem to have a thing for violence,” Rezo scolded.

“I'm not the only one,” Oren said with a snort.

“Normally I would turn you over my knee for throwing something at me, except I just did that. And I meant what I said about wanting you to be able to sit at the campfire.” Rezo smiled in a way that made adrenaline spread to every corner in Oren's body. “I guess I'll have to improvise.”

For one wondrous moment Oren thought he was about to be kissed, but then he felt Rezo's fingers dig into his ribs.

Oren hated being tickled. It didn't matter who did it, he just wanted it to stop. He gasped, laughing involuntarily as he twisted to get away.

Rezo paused in his attack. “Do you promise never to throw anything at me again?”

“Sure, anything, just no more.”

“Say it.” Rezo ran his fingers up and down Oren's side.

“I promise, I promise!”

Rezo tickled him one last time then let him go.

Oren wiped tears, this time from laughter, out of his eyes.

“You're determined to make me look like I've been crying.”

“Well…”

“Just hurry up and grab your damn wood before someone wonders what's taking us so long.”

“As you wish,” Rezo said, and he turned to do just that.

“So what took you so long?” Will asked, as Oren and Rezo returned to camp.

“It depends on what kind of wood—” Jeff started to say, but was interrupted when Rezo dropped his haul onto the ground at Jeff's feet, causing him to jump backward to avoid it landing on his toes. “Watch it!”

“I'm going to go talk to Dan,” Rezo said, walking away without bothering to apologize to Jeff.

Oren didn't want to stand there and talk to them either.

“I'm going to put these by the fire,” Oren said, and moved away before they could ask him any more questions.

Michael was building a fire out of logs someone faster than them must have brought back.

“How are you doing?” Oren asked, as he set the firewood to the side of the pit.

“I'll live,” Michael said without looking up.

“Rezo wasn't happy either.” Oren felt odd comparing Rezo to Dan, but it did fit. More than it probably should have.

“At least you didn't get spanked in front of everyone.”

Oren shifted uncomfortably. “True.” Something in his tone made Michael look up.

“Have you ever been spanked?”

“Ha!—I mean, who hasn't?”

“Is that why your boyfriend took you away?”

“What?” Oren was completely thrown by the question. “I don't have a boyfriend.”

“Rezo.”

“We're just friends.”

“Jeff said he was taking you away to give you a licking.”

“That was obviously a joke.” Oren was going to have to do something about Jeff's annoyingly candid and eerily accurate comments.

“You look really embarrassed for—”

“What do you want me to tell you? That Rezo was really upset about the driving without a license and the lying thing, so he dragged me off into the woods and spanked me? That would be ridiculous.” It was ridiculous and the last thing he wanted to talk about.

Michael was quiet and for a moment and Oren thought that was the end of it.

“Is he secretly your boyfriend?” Michael asked.

Oren didn't answer at first. Then he sighed. It wasn't fair to be expected to lie about everything all of the time.

“No, I only wish he was.”

“You're not like the other adults.” Michael didn't sound bothered by what Oren had revealed. At least the kid seemed to be progressive.

“Apparently not.”

“I'm sorry I got you spanked.”

“I told you, he didn't spank me.”

“I'm sorry anyway.”

Oren realized he wasn't likely to ever get Michael to believe him.

“Do me a favor?” Oren asked.

“What?”

“Don't mention any of this to your brother.”

After dinner, Oren was the first back to the fire. Everyone else was still in a communal barbeque area. It had a concrete floor and a wooden roof. This really was as far from “roughing it” as it was possible to get.

He'd been wrong about Manny. He wasn't sneaking away and doing inappropriate things with Alyssa and Jessie. He was cooking. He apparently enjoyed grilling and had gone to prepare dinner. The girls had gone to help in what was either a stereotypical act of domesticity, or possibly just an excuse to socialize.

Oren moved to sit in a different place by the fire pit. Somehow, regardless of how he moved, the smoke seemed to follow him. But despite the smoke, he was enjoying the quiet. Dinner had been a crosshatch of conversations about things he knew nothing about.

Oren took a swig of the beer Jeff had given him, possibly as some type of unstated apology, although he suspected it was more random than that. It tasted bitter, not at all like the beer he used to sneak from his parents. He imagined the taste would improve as more of it was consumed.

Rezo sat down beside him, his dusty jeans almost close enough to touch. He looked at the beer and then back at Oren pointedly.

“What would Dan say if he saw you with that?”

“Nothing. I heard him tell Jeff he thinks the drinking age should still be eighteen.” Oren raised the beer to his lips and smiled. “There are a lot of different parenting philosophies.”

Before he could take another swig, however, Rezo took it from his fingers and took a long drink himself.

Oren glared at him. “Get your own.”

“I'm going to pretend you got this for me and had absolutely no intention of drinking underage.”

“Whatever.”

Rezo shrugged, but Oren could see the smile hidden behind his next swig.

“So what now?” Oren asked, giving up the beer as lost. “S'mores and ghost stories?”

“I think it's going to be more like alcohol and a lot of talk about sports, video games, and women.”

“Even better.” Oren picked up a stick and began to burn the tip in the fire. “I guess I can just sit here and inhale the smoke.”

“Keeps the mosquitoes at bay.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Who'd have guessed?”

“Can I please have my beer back?”

Rezo shushed him with a finger pressed to Oren's lips. Oren was torn between wanting to lick or bite it. Luckily Rezo removed it before a final decision was made.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“What?”

“Let's go for a walk.”

Oren dropped his stick. He scrambled to pick it up before it caught something on fire.

“I don't want that kind of surprise, I was joking, I didn't really want the beer, just—”

“Don't you want to take a walk with me?” Rezo smiled in a way that Oren considered downright mean.

“We both know what you mean by 'walk.'”

“Trust me.” Rezo stood up, crumpling the empty beer and tossing it in the recycling bag. He reached out to take Oren's hand and towed him to his feet. Oren liked the feel of a warm hand that was just as big as his, even if it was dragging him away to be spanked again. This time for under-aged drinking.

Rezo picked up his bag and started to walk up one of the well defined trails. When Oren had taken Rezo's bag off the truck he had noticed it was exceptionally heavy. Oren knew it wasn't because he'd brought his textbooks, since Rezo had even done enough studying ahead of time so that he wouldn't have to spend the weekend doing homework. Oren could only guess what torture implements he'd packed inside.

The moon was full and lit their way sufficiently that they didn't need their flashlights. Oren wished it was dark and miserable, maybe even raining. Anything to prevent them from going. It wasn't fair, it was the second time he was going to be spanked twice in one day.

“Where are we going? It's dark and—”

“Quiet.”

Oren kept his grumbles to himself. Why did he like this man so much? It didn't make any sense. All he got were bad things out of the friendship: smacked around, told to shut up, forced into hard physical labor—what possible reason did he have to hang out with someone like Rezo?

Although it was likely no more than half an hour, it seemed like they walked forever before they got where Rezo wanted to go. It was high up on top of the ridge, in a nice clearing that allowed them the view of the entire valley. It seemed like an odd place to choose for discipline.

“We're here. Close your eyes while I set this up.”

That sounded ominous. “Rezo, come on. I'm still sore from earlier. I don't deserve this.”

“It's not a question of what you deserve. Luckily for you.”

Oren turned his back on him and crossed his arms. He listened to the sounds of metal sliding against metal. He had no idea what Rezo was up to. Elaborate methods of discipline didn't seem like his style.

“Alright, you can look now.”

Oren turned around cautiously.

He was surprised to see his tripod and binoculars. No wonder Rezo's bag had weighed a ton.

“Star gazing is what these are for after all and the sky's perfect tonight.”

“How did you…?”

“Norman.”

Oren didn't know what to say.

His silence seemed to make Rezo nervous. “You're not mad that I brought it without telling you? I—”

“No, it's really nice. Thank you.”

“I didn't want everything we do together to be work or—”

“Good for me?”

Rezo smiled. “Do you want to look first?”

“Alright.” This was why he kept Rezo as a friend. He was thoughtful and unlike everyone else on the planet, he actually cared about him (although sometimes he had an unusual way of showing it).

Oren glanced at Rezo's silhouette, backlit by the moon, before he bent to look through the eye piece.

Of course, his looks didn't hurt either.

Chapter Seven

Master List of Chapters