Stories of an Old Boy

By: XPud
(© 2018 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

xpud@tickiestories.us

Chapter 9

“Matty! Your alarm! Come on!” I wake up to Mom yelling at me from my door as my alarm for school is going off. Crap, I slept through it again.

“Sorry Mom, I'm awake, I'm awake.” I squint at the clock and see that it's already 10 minutes later than I thought. Double crap. Gotta get going, quick. I throw off the covers and immediately feel cold...and wet. Seriously?! I haven't wet the bed in like almost a week, and the one day I sleep late?

“Matty,” Mom says, “we have to get going. I'll take care of the sheets later. Go wash up and get ready.”

“How did you know I...” I ask, but she cuts me off.

“Honey, don't worry about it. Let's just get going.” She closes the door. She probably smelled it. Why can't I stop doing that? How do you stop wetting the bed? Why did I start?

I take a deep breath and go shower off with body wash. I make sure my hair gets washed too 'cuz it's finally long enough for me to get 'bed head.' I finish up my morning routine, take one more angry look at my bed (seriously, why can't I just be normal?), and leave to go to school.

On my way to school, I look back at my texts from yesterday. Out of nowhere, Phillip had texted me around dinnertime to say how sorry he was for ever lying to me, and how he never realized just how much of an asshole he had gotten to be. I wasn't sure why he was bringing it up...we talked about it already, and I thought we were past it. So I just said 'it's okay' and that I didn't think he was an asshole. I mean, well...man, I dunno. I mean, I like him a lot, like at least best friend, maybe even more than a friend, but now I'm all confused. I believe him about the whole being sorry thing, and I'm glad he told me finally that he did the whole gym thing on purpose, but now a part of me's all like, what else did he do on purpose? What if he's still lying? Argh, feelings are confusing. Oh, and then later he told me that if things are ever too much to deal with, he would always be there for me, which is sweet, but I'm really confused about why he was saying all those things. Maybe he traveled to the future, I dunno. I know he said he'd stop using his ability, but maybe not. Even though he didn't use it when I peed myself at the museum...blah! Feelings are so stupid.

Wednesdays are pretty stupid, too, or at least this one is. Mom called Zacky's mom yesterday, so after school I'm supposed to go to dinner with him and his mom and talk about diapers. As if wetting my bed wasn't bad enough, now I'm going to wear diapers like a big freaking baby. I don't know if that's worse than wetting my pants, but I guess I'll find out.

You know what? August is also stupid. Stupid and hot. Why does this district start school in the middle of August?! Don't they know how HOT it is? So yeah, I'm already a little sweaty by the time I get to school, which sucks, 'cuz Choir is my first class, so I get to stand on the risers around a bunch of other kids and smell like sweat. Yay.

I sit in the front 'cuz I'm not that tall, but also in one of the center sections 'cuz my voice hasn't dropped yet. It's a mixed choir of boys and girls, but the voices are grouped by basically high boys, low boys, high girls, and low girls. So this one guy, Chris, an 8th grader who sits in the low section next to me (I'm right on the edge), says, “You look wet.”

I immediately look down at my pants, and then hate myself. He says, “I meant sweaty. What, did you think you peed yourself again?” He laughs with a few of the other low-voice boys. Whatever. It only happened that one time at school, but now all the bullies know about it. I'd wipe my sweat on him if he wouldn't beat the crap out of me for it.

He doesn't get a chance to say anything else before we stand for warm-ups. As we keep going up in pitch, some of the low boys switch down the octave, but the choir teacher, Ms. Pratt, tells them to keep stretching the upper notes. Instead, they just drop out and start whispering things like, “Who stole your balls?” and stupid things like that to get the others to mess up.

We go through our sight-reading exercises and then get to the pieces we're practicing for the winter concert. We're doing “Somewhere in my Memory” from Home Alone, some movie my mom tells me was really funny when she was growing up. It's a nice song, and it starts out really neat: Vik starts out singing the first two lines (and he has a really good voice, too), and then Kasha joins him on a harmony line. Since they have like the exact same voice, it sounds like just one person singing two notes--so cool! (Also, they don't even sound Russian when they sing, like their accent just disappears.) Then the choir joins in on the rest of it until the end, where it fades back to just their two voices, and finally just Vik again. So anyway, in the middle of the first run-thru of the song, Chris grabs my butt! I yell in surprise, more like a screech, really, and everyone in the choir starts laughing. What the hell? I didn't even do anything to him!

The teacher looks over to see what happened, but she doesn't catch him. She just says, “Can we focus, please?” and starts the song from a little bit before that point. He doesn't do it again, but I'm all distracted now and afraid he's going to grab me again, so I sing a lot more quietly just in case.

After the song, I ask if I can go to the bathroom. The teacher allows me, but Chris whispers before I go, “Quick before you pee yourself!” and of course the other guys laugh when he says it. As I get up, I consider 'accidentally' dragging his chair off the riser with my foot, but I don't really want to cause any more problems.

I get there and do my business; it's still weird to me that I don't feel anything telling me I need to go until like when I start peeing. When I start, though, it all feels normal, but then I always end up peeing more than I expect to. I don't know if I'll ever get used to that.

Anyway, when I get back, I see that Chris has taken his water bottle and squirted a puddle on my chair. Ha, ha, funny. “Ms. Pratt? Chris spilled water on my seat.”

“You sure you didn't just pee on it?” Chris says with this stupid look on his face.

MAN, he's making me mad! “You wanna smell it?” I say, and he stands up and looks at me like he's gonna punch me.

Before he gets a chance to say or do anything, Ms. Pratt slams the lid on the piano down, making all of us jump at how loud it is. “Chris Davidson, go get paper towels and clean up your mess, now, or I'll make sure you help the lunch monitors clean the whole cafeteria.”

He gives me the look of death as he leaves the room. We work on another song, and it takes the entire song before he gets back. After he wipes up the mess and throws away the towels, he whispers to me, “I'll fucking kill you if you rat on me again.”

I'm so tired of it. If Phillip only knew how many people laugh at me because of that day...maybe I should make a list. No, no that'd be mean. I don't really want to be mean to anyone, especially not Phillip. Even though all these bullies are basically his fault.

You know, I'm not being fair to Phillip. I was bullied when I was younger for being short, or for not being good at sports, or even for playing the piano--I used to take lessons when I was a lot younger--but it's always something. I guess I'm just easy to bully. But hey, at least it's not about my height anymore...for whatever that's worth.

For the rest of Choir, Chris stops being a jerk. I guess he figured he might actually get in trouble for once. Anyway, Social Studies goes by fine, and Study Hall is mostly quiet. I take the time to read up on the story we're studying in Reading class next period, and before I know it, even Reading class is done and it's time for Gym.

I got out of the locker room early yesterday (like I always try to do now), so I missed the whole thing that Phillip did with Diego. I'm glad Phillip is okay, but Diego friggin' deserved it. He and Rod and those guys are so annoying! I hope they get kicked out of school and have to get home schooled or something.

Anyway, Gym class is just track running today, which I'm actually okay with. Sometimes I like running, really. It's easy, it's quiet...it's hot, but what can ya do? So yeah, nothing really exciting there, except afterward we're all super sweaty, so Coach takes us in early so like way more boys than usual can go take showers.

Coach splits us in groups, numbering us off to make things faster. I'm in Group 1 (thank God), but Phillip ends up in 3. Each group is 11 boys, which is basically the whole showers (there's one for handicapped that nobody uses). Each shower spot has like a little wall that's just tall enough to hide people's privates, but only if they're not that tall yet, so like some of the boys can't really hide anything at all anymore.

Everyone's just minding their own business, soaping up and all, when one of the 6th graders, Alfred, a short Black boy who's always really loud and obnoxious, starts being all stupid. He starts yelling out, “Oh no! I dropped the soap!” and wiggling his butt outside the walls of his shower spot while he takes forever to pick up the soap. His wiener is all flopping back and forth between his legs, too...it's kinda long for a boy as short as him. Then again, I guess mine is kinda short, so I dunno. I mean, it's already a little bigger than it used to be, like, thicker around. Not a whole lot, but when I jerk off, my pinky finger doesn't go as far around it as it used to.

Sorry, uh, so anyway, one of the other boys, I didn't see who, throws their bar of soap and hits Alfred right in the butthole! Everyone starts cracking up and pointing at him, but Alfred gets super mad about it, yelling about how much it hurt his buttbone. I kinda laughed at it too, even though it was mean...Alfred is really annoying sometimes, and he was kinda asking for it. At least he stopped being stupid after that.

There are a couple of boys in the shower with me that are pretty good looking. I dunno if they're 'hot' or 'cute' or whatever the difference is, but some of the taller boys are really, I guess, 'handsome.' This one boy, Beto, is like maybe a head taller than me, and he has a pretty nice body: kinda skinny, but big shoulders and some muscle. Not a lot. Also, he's just tall enough that I can see his dick over the little walls. Even when he's soft, he's got more than I do when I have a hard-on, but not like Cory's. I mean, jeez, he was big! I don't know how Phillip fit all that inside his butt. Watching him, though...he sure looked like he liked it.

Oh, crap. Now I have a hard-on in the shower. Great, just great. Think stupid thoughts, like uh, how dumb Math class is. So dumb! I'm just not good at math, I guess. Phillip is, though. He's good at a lot of things. It's kinda not fair. And he has a nice soft body, like, not a lot of muscle, but not fat, just...smooth. Just like his balls.

Dangit! Not helping! Stupid brain, stop thinking about boys and penises and sex! Think about how weird tonight's gonna be, talking about wearing a stupid diaper! I mean, Zacky was cool and all, but diapers? Ugh! And then Daddy's house for the weekend...that's gonna suck. I just hope everything goes okay. I really don't think he would...I mean, he hasn't been really drunk in a long time, so it should be okay. I hope. Oh God, what if I wet the bed over there again? I can't wear a diaper over there; I'd be too embarrassed. He told me he'd make me grow up--Oh GOD he can't know I'm going to have diapers! He'll...he'll probably...

The coach blows the whistle to tell us to get out, and it scares the crap out of me. I accidentally yell out for the second time today, but other than a couple of other kids laughing a little bit, nobody makes a comment. Thankfully, I'm still facing the back wall, because after that, I REALLY have to pee. That, and I'm kinda...crying a little bit. Not like loud or anything--I don't think anyone could tell. I cover my privates up with a hand so that it's hard to tell, and I pee in the shower as the other boys are turning their showers off. One of them looks back at me all confused, but he doesn't say anything since Coach Rigby shows up right then.

“Matthew!” Coach calls. “Come on! The other boys need to shower.”

Crap, crap, crap. “Just...had to finish, um, rinsing,” I grunt out, trying to push the pee out as fast as I can. Thankfully, I guess I sweat a lot outside today, 'cuz I don't pee quite as long as normal. I finish up and turn off the water, hurrying out so the other boys can go.

I can't stop thinking about diapers and Daddy now. Like, I almost forget to pay for my lunch in the line. Apparently my friends at the table notice it as well, 'cuz Kyle's like, “Hey, Matty, what's up?”

“What?” I say. “Oh, uh, nothing. Just thinking.”

“About what?” Kasha asks. Vik and Kasha are eating on one side of the table; Phillip is sitting next to me, and Kyle is on my other side.

I shrug. “Nothing big. Just the weekend.”

Phillip looks at me for a moment, but I can never tell what he's thinking. He's like that Lady Gaga song, 'Poker Face' 'cuz I can't read it. He's being really quiet today, though.

Kasha, though, is all like, “What, you going to another big birthday party? You make me jealous!”

I roll my eyes and shake my head. “No, you big dummy. I hafta go to my dad's house for the next two weekends.”

“Wait,” Kasha says, “You parents aren't together?”

Everyone at the table looks at him like he said the stupidest thing in the world. Phillip swallows a bite of chicken wrong and starts coughing. He gets over it fast (which is good 'cuz I was scared) and says, “That's usually what that means, yeah. It's called a divorce. It happens sometimes.”

“I know that!” Kasha snaps back, but he doesn't say anything more after Vik hits him in the shoulder. He kinda turns red in the face afterward, too. I mean, it's been awhile since they divorced, so it doesn't really affect me as much, I guess. I know sometimes kids think that it's their fault, but Daddy drank too much and Mom didn't like it. That's not my fault. I didn't make him drink. He started back up while I was in chemo, so how could I have done anything to make him drink?

A little bit later, while Vik and Kasha are arguing over who sings the first lines better in their song in Choir, Phillip leans over to me and says, “Wanna come over after school?”

“Over to your place? Cool! Yeah!” I say, but then remember: “Oh, wait. Crap. I have to go to dinner tonight with Mom and...you know.”

“Right, right.” Phillip says, nodding slowly. “Hey, uh, about those texts...”

I interrupt, “Yeah, what was up with those? They were like super dramatic.”

Phillip lowers his head like he's ashamed. “Yeah, but I mean, Theatre nerd here, right?” he says, and pauses for a moment longer. I'm about to say something when he finally speaks. “I talked to someone who made me realize a few things, and...well, I can't tell you who they are, but I...” He sighs. “I was a dick, and treated them in a way they didn't deserve. The problem was that I didn't even realize how bad I was being until way later...kinda like how I treated you at first.”

“Okay...” I say, still a little confused.

“Well, I want you to know that I've stopped that kind of thing entirely. I don't even do it and, well, you know.” He looks at the other boys at the table, which makes me look: they're playing with those little fidget spinners, trying to make each others' spinner stop spinning. He continues, “I don't even think about doing it, even if I can get away with it, if you know what I mean.”

I do know, but he still seems to be ignoring the most confusing part. “What did you mean by 'if things are ever too much to deal with'?” I ask carefully.

“You know what?” he responds. “Don't worry about it. I was feeling really emotional, and you're right--it was super dramatic. I mean, I don't expect that it'll ever come up, but if for whatever reason you end up some day feeling like you can't keep going, I'll be there for you. That's all I was saying. Not like it's gonna happen, but, y'know, just in case.”

“Did you...” I start, and then lower my voice, “did you go to the future or something?” I know he said he stopped doing that, but he's acting REALLY weird right now. More than he normally does.

“No! No, I didn't--” he starts, and sighs again. “Man, I promise you I didn't go...do that or anything. I was really just saying--look, don't think that something terrible is gonna happen now or whatever just because I said that. I just, I don't want bad things to happen to anyone, especially not you, and--”

I get up the courage to put my hand on his, on the lunch table, and it gets him to stop talking. “I get it,” I say to reassure him. “It's fine.” I mean, I don't entirely get it all, but I'm pretty sure he's telling the truth about not knowing the future right now, which means that he's, I dunno, just being weird. I gotta admit, though, it's cute when he's not all confident. Is it weird for me to think that? Whatever--it's true.

Phillip takes a deep breath, looks me in the eyes, and slowly breathes out. He smiles, but quickly moves his hand out from under mine as he glances over my shoulder in the twins' direction. Uh oh. I hope they didn't...you know what, I actually don't care if they saw. If I can trust anyone in this school to not spread rumors, it's them. He says under his breath, “I, uh, need to throw away my trash,” and gets up to do that.

I watch as he walks away, but Kasha says, “Hey Matty.”

“Yeah?” I say, turning around.

“Are you...” he says, drawing it out. He looks at me, than over to Phillip, then points to me and him back and forth a few times.

“What? No!” I reply without thinking, though I'm not actually sure, to be honest.

Now the other boys are looking at me, and I realize that I said that really loudly. Kasha quickly responds, “Hey, hey, is okay with me if you and Phillip sitting in the tree, K-I-S-S--” He doesn't get to finish before Vik slaps the back of his head.

“Ow! Hey!” he says, turning around to Vik, who gives him the most serious face I've ever seen. Kyle, though, totally shoots milk out his nose when Vik hits Kasha, which makes all of us crack up laughing. Kyle stands up quickly, holding his nose with his napkin as he goes to get more. (Secretly, I'm glad I peed in the shower earlier, because I'm laughing hard enough that I might have wet myself.)

Kasha turns to Vik and says, “What was that for? I was just playing around!” but Vik stares him down. “Fine, fine...sorry, Matty. I swear I was just playing.”

The whole thing is just stupid to me, so I'm still laughing by the end of it. “Well, we're not...'sitting in a tree,' okay?” I say, wiping a tear out of my eye. Poor Kyle...that's still cracking me up.

Kyle is still getting napkins, but as Phillip is on his way back, Kasha leans in and quietly says, “Maybe not, but after Saturday with the sleeping, and just now with the hands...” He gestures by holding his hands together. “I see it.” He looks to see Phillip just far enough that he can't hear us over the noise and adds, “Maybe should ask.” He nods with his eyebrows raised high, and then straightens back up quickly when Phillip sits down.

He's right; I really do feel a lot for Phillip. I just don't want to ask him out unless I know he won't lie to me anymore. I know that I lied to him, but that was totally different, and it ended up with James getting hurt 'cuz of it, so yeah. No more lying.

I'm a terrible liar, anyway, so I don't even try to hide it from Kasha. I just roll my eyes and look away to see Kyle returning to clean up his mess. Phillip remarks, “Did someone spit milk?”

Vik can barely hold back his laugh when he says, “Kyle's nose did.” This just gets us all laughing again, Phillip included.

Lunch ends, and Science class later is okay, I guess. I don't like how slow we go, though. Stupid having to be in all remedial classes...oh well. At least I'm not repeating a grade. We're barely on what a cell is and we're weeks into class. So booooooring. Math class isn't any better, but at least I'm getting it more now. I kept tripping up on the whole 'moving numbers from one side of the equation to the other' thing, but it makes sense now. Mostly.

So anyway, nothing really interesting happens after all that, but Phillip tells me to text him later if I get the chance, or tomorrow if I'm busy all night. Then he heads off to go get his phone and head home. Man, I wish I was over at his house instead of this stupid thing tonight. Like, I don't even care if we did anything fun, like messing around or whatever. I just...don't wanna do this diaper thing, is all.

At home, I play Xbox for a while, but it doesn't really hold my attention. For some reason, I kinda want to play around on my old piano keyboard, so I go open up my toy chest (it's a real chest, like you'd see on a pirate movie. It's awesome) and push the action figures and old stuffed animals out of the way and pull out my little 2-octave Casio keyboard I got when I was like 6. I really wish I had my big 5-octave Yamaha, but that's at Daddy's house. Maybe I'll ask if I can bring it back over here after the weekend. Anyway, I doodle around on it for a bit, playing the beginning of Fur Elise, the Moonlight Sonata, and a couple of others that actually fit on the tiny keyboard. I've forgotten a lot of the stuff I learned, but I never really learned the whole of any of those songs anyway, just the part that everybody knows. The fingering comes back to me fast, though, like my fingers remember better than I do.

All my sheet music (which isn't much) is over at Daddy's, too, so I can't do anything with all that. I have fun playing the demo along with the keyboard, since the first thing I ever did with this keyboard was memorize the demo by listening to it. Soon, though, I get bored with it and put it back away, and take some time to look at the other toys in the chest. I played with lot of stuffed animals and other toys when I was younger, but most of them were dinosaurs and lions and things. I used to have epic battles with them, like Robots and Cats vs. Dinos and Superheroes. The superheroes would always take out the robots, but the cats were meaner than the dinosaurs. I don't know why.

Before I know it, though, Mom opens my door and tells me to get ready for dinner. We're going a little early so we have more time to talk afterward. I put back on my shoes and comb my hair a little bit, and make sure to pee before we go. I don't know how long it'll be and it's just safer this way anyway.

So we get to Ruby Roundbird, my favorite burger place, and I see Zacky in the lobby with a tall lady with red hair and a green dress that I guess is his mom. I walk over to Zacky, and he waves and stands up, saying, “Hi Matty!”

His mom stands up from the waiting bench and holds her hand out to Mom. “Hi, you must be Matty and 'Mom.' I'm Mommy Mercy, but you of course know me as Tammy. This is Zacky.”

My mom smiles and replies, “Adria, though in all honesty, I definitely do get called 'Mom' more than the other name. Hopefully you haven't been waiting long.”

“No, we just arrived. This is actually one of Zacky's favorite places, so he's been waiting impatiently to order, if only for like 2 minutes.”

“Let's go ahead, then.” The moms head to the line with Zacky and me following.

When we're in line, Zacky says, “I love this place! I can't wait to get extra fries. Do you like this place?”

I shrug, playing it cool. “Yeah, it's okay.” I actually love this place and probably feel on the inside how he's acting on the outside.

“I love the fries here,” Zacky continues. “They're always so good. The burgers are good, too. I get mine with extra cheese and ketchup.”

“I just get cheese and meat,” I say. “I don't like all the extra stuff. Well, bacon on it, too.”

Tammy orders first, and knows Zacky's order by heart apparently. She doesn't even have to ask. Mom orders hers next, and I speak up when it's my turn, ordering exactly what I like: a 1/3 pound bacon cheeseburger with nothing else on it. We take our number and go to the soda fountain on the way to a booth seat. I get a Coke; Zacky goes to get a Coke as well, but Mrs. Mercy grabs his cup from him. “You know the rules, Zacky,” she says.

“But Mommy! I never get to have any soda!”

“Don't you argue with me. You can have the light lemonade.”

“Please, Mommy? I promise I'll be nice.” He gives her a look that reminds me of the cat off of the Shrek movie where he does those huge innocent eyes.

His mom stares at him for a moment, and decides, “Fine. You may have one. ONE. No refills, and you better put a lot of ice in it.”

Zacky cheers and fills up his cup. After everyone has a drink, he points to a round booth, way more room than we need, and says excitedly, “Let's sit there!”

Tammy looks around. “Well, it's not all that busy today. Why not?”

The moms decide to sit on the outside of the booth, facing each other across the table. Zacky and I sit in the middle, so we can talk to each other and ignore them. The problem is, I want to hear what they're saying, and I dunno what to say to Zacky. This is awkward.

It turns out that Zacky is as awkward as I am about the whole thing once we run out of burger stuff to talk about. The parents go back and forth about their jobs and how annoying things are, how bad traffic was, all that. I overhear them talking a little bit about schools, which sounded interesting at first, but all they were saying is how our school district starts early but ends early, and how strange it is. I mean, it's only one week early from other districts, I guess, but still...why couldn't we, like...just go one week less in total? Just cut the first week out.

Sigh. I try to break the silence between Zacky and me by asking, “So, what do you like to do?”

“Um, like, you mean after school? I like to read some, and play video games, but usually I watch cartoons a lot.”

“What's your favorite show?”

“SpongeBob!” he says excitedly. “I love SpongeBob SquarePants. He's always so funny, and Patrick always makes me laugh. He's so dumb.”

“Yeah, SpongeBob's a good one. I like Cartoon Network, though. Do you ever watch Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends?”

“Yeah! That one's good too. Did you ever see the episode where Bloo gets reeeeeally bored, and starts saying things all funny?”

I giggle, remembering that episode. “Yeah. I've even been that bored before.”

“Yeah,” Zacky agrees. “Like where you're so bored, words sound funny.”

“As a cold front sweeps in, you can expect showers in Spokane...” I say in a slow voice, imitating the cartoon episode where Bloo is watching the weather channel out of boredom.

Zacky picks up the line, “...and it's hot in Topeka.”

We both start giggling stupidly, which makes our moms look at us like we're crazy. Looking at them makes us laugh even more. We both try to stop laughing, but when I look at Zacky, he's trying so hard to not laugh that his cheeks puff up. “Stop! Stop! You're gonna make me pee!” I squeal.

Zacky and I just crack up laughing until both our moms are telling us to hush 'cuz we're making a scene. I'm literally pinching myself so that I don't pee my pants. I have to breathe a few times just to make sure I can calm down, but I'm finally able to chill out...as long as I don't look at Zacky for the moment. When I let go of my wiener, I feel a little bit come out, but it's not that bad. I don't think it'll get past my undies.

We get told to be quiet until the food arrives. We manage, if only by listening to our parents' boring conversation. They're all talking about where they work, what they do, Mom talks about getting divorced, all that. Zacky's mom says something about her husband passing away; apparently he died in a car accident.

“That's terrible!” my mom says.

“Thankfully, Zacky lived, but his nerves were injured, and he doesn't have any control anymore over his bladder or bowels. That's why he has to wear a diaper.”

“MOMMY!” Zacky yells out.

“Honey, quiet,” she says. “I told you we were coming to talk about special needs; this is what I meant.”

“But Mommy...” he says.

My mom talks over him: “Well, it's not the same reason, but Matty had surgery due to cancer that had the side effect of him losing feeling in his bladder, so he can't tell when he needs to go. It also weakened his muscle control in that area, so he has had a lot more wetting accidents since then.”

Now I'm the one yelling, “MOM!”

“Matthew Petersen. Behave yourself. How do you think we're supposed to help you if you can't even talk about it?”

I sigh loudly. “Yeah, but Mom, can't we just, y'know, talk about all that at home? It's embarrassing here!”

Mom looks around, noting that there are maybe three other groups of people in the restaurant right now. “Matty, there's nobody here, and you're overreacting.”

Thankfully, the food shows up before I get a chance to say anything. I'd really rather just eat than argue, and this also means Mom's not saying anything embarrassing, either. Everyone is really hungry, so we all stop talking and eat. Thank God that after we finish eating, Mom says we should all go back to our place to keep talking.

We get home at the same time since they were following us. Mom opens the door for everyone, and when we're inside, she gets out a bottle of wine and asks if Zacky's mom wants a glass of red. Mom never drank while Daddy was in the house, mostly I guess 'cuz it might make him want to drink, but now she drinks sometimes. She never gets bad like Daddy does, though, so whatever.

“Matty,” Mom suggests, “why don't you and Zacky go play in your room while Tammy and I discuss things? We'll call you when we need you.”

“Okay,” I respond, and Zacky follows me to my room.

The first thing he does when he gets in my room is say, “COOL!” and start running over to my action figure collection.

“No, no, wait!” I yell out. “Those aren't for playing!”

Zacky stops, hand still hovering near one. “Oh. Why not?”

“They're collector's items,” I announce proudly. “One day, they might be worth like thousands of dollars.”

“Ohhhh,” Zacky says. The action figures are old versions of the X-Men; I have Wolverine, Cyclops, Jean Grey, and Professor X, and they're all on little stands. Zacky continues, “Do you ever do anything with them?”

“Sometimes I pose them like they're talking or whatever, but right now they're just all looking outward like...like the Blackbird is coming in for a landing or something.” I can just see the ship flying in and landing on the shelf, and all of the X-Men get on and go fight Magneto or whatever.

“Cool,” Zacky says. “I like the X-Men. They have a good cartoon.”

“Yeah,” I reply, unsure of what else to say. Zacky just kinda looks around the room a bit, but neither of us say anything. Finally I ask, “Do...you want to maybe play Black Ops for a bit?”

“What's that?”

“I thought you played video games,” I say, confused. “You don't know Black Ops?”

Zacky gets a little offended. “I do! Play games, I mean. I just don't know that one. I usually play like Mario games and Smash Brothers.”

“Oh, you have a Nintendo system.” That makes sense. “Well, Black Ops is like a shooter game. It's a lot of fun. Wanna try it?”

“Sure!”

I set everything up and show Zacky how to use the controller; apparently he's never had the chance to play on any Xbox systems. We get into a few games, but all Zacky does is complain that he can't get used to the controller and that he keeps dying. I mean, he really does keep dying, but he doesn't really know how to play, so yeah. Eventually he starts getting angry, so I turn it off and suggest that maybe we should do something else.

We don't get to, though, because while we're trying to figure something out, Mom calls for us to join them. Tammy says to Zacky, “Come over here a moment. I need to show Adria something.”

He walks over to her, and his mom pulls down his shorts! Just straight off, no saying anything about it. Underneath, he is wearing a diaper, the kind that you tape together on both sides, instead of underwear. I actually didn't really notice that he had on anything different, but then again, I guess his shorts were kinda baggy. I guess that's how he gets away with it.

“MOMMY!” he yells as he tries to pull up his pants. “Why do you always do this?!”

Tammy basically ignores him as she says, “So this is the kind that Zacky usually wears, but he has problems with both bladder and bowels, so it's better to have a diaper with more room. For Matty, I think the size 6 diapers would work still. Let me see. Matty, come over here.”

She makes me stand hip-to-hip with the almost-naked Zacky as she looks at our waist sizes. “Yeah, they're close enough. I've learned that “size 6” diapers fit for like the next 2 sizes up, and they're less expensive. Just a suggestion. So, we went through a little phase recently where we tried pull-up diapers just to see if they'd be sufficient for him, but it didn't end well. So here's a few of those, if you want to try them out.” Tammy reaches into her large purse and pulls out two pull-up type diapers with SpongeBob on the front side and Squidward on the back, and she hands them to me.

These are...I dunno. I guess it's bad enough wearing diapers, but cartoon diapers? Man, if anyone ever found out, I'd be dead!

“Matty!” Mom snaps. “Don't just stand there. Thank Tammy and go try them on!”

“Th-thank you,” I manage to say, though I don't feel it at all. All I feel is the warm rush of tears about to hit my eyes from embarrassment. I run to the bathroom and sit on the toilet, lid down, and bury my face in my hands with the diapers on my lap. I'm not going back out there. They can go to Hell.

After a little bit, I hear a quiet knock on the door. “Matty?” Mom asks softly.

“Go away!” I snap.

“Matty, listen to me,” she says. “I know this may seem embarrassing, and I know it's hard to accept, but do you just want to go back to wetting your pants?”

She's right, but I can't bring myself to say anything. I just cry on the toilet.

Mom slowly turns the knob and opens the door. I guess I forgot to lock it. Anyway, she comes and kneels next to me, putting her hand on my leg. “Matty, you know how much I love you, right?”

“More than the sun, the moon, and ice cream put together.” It's a thing we always say.

“Right,” she says with a smile. “I'd never ever try to make you feel bad unless I knew it was the only way to make things better. This is one of those times. Think back to chemo; you hated it, but you knew that it was the only way to stay alive, so you did it. Now look at you: healthy, growing, and alive. This is just another of those things you have to get used to, and then move on. You already know there are others who have problems like this.”

“But,” I whine, “I don't wanna be a baby!”

“Did you know that people my age actually wear diapers, too? We're not babies.”

“You don't wear one.”

“I wear pads, in case I sometimes laugh too hard or in case some leaks out. It's like a diaper, but smaller.”

“Can't I wear those?” I ask, knowing already the answer.

“Honey, yours is a different problem. Mine was from having a baby and getting older; yours is nerve damage. A pad isn't going to help it enough.”

I finally stop crying long enough to look at Mom. “If anyone ever finds out, I'll die.”

“You won't die,” Mom tells me firmly. “You will be embarrassed, but everyone your age is embarrassed about all sorts of things. Besides, we already said you don't have to wear them at school if you don't want to, since you're doing well at your routine there.”

She has a point. I don't like it, but she's right. Like always. “Fine. I'll...I'll try one on.”

She just smiles, pats my back, and stands up to walk out. After she's gone, I take off my pants and undies and put on one of the diapers. It fits just fine, just like she said it would, though it feels a little weird when you're used to underwear all the time. I look at myself in the mirror. A short, light-brown haired, skinny boy with a light blue SpongeBob diaper on. I look stupid. I quickly put on my pants and button them up; after I'm done, it kinda just looks like I have a bigger wiener, 'cuz the front puffs out a bit.

I go outside and show the parents. Tammy nods in approval, but Mom adds, “I think maybe you'll want slightly baggier pants. That's fine, because we need to get you new clothes anyway, and eventually you'll just grow into them.”

Zacky has his pants back on and is standing near the wall with his thumb in his mouth. As soon as he sees me looking, he quickly pops it out and puts his hands behind his back.

“Well,” Mom says, “go ahead and wear it for awhile, see how it feels. If those are okay, we can get those for you.”

“I guess,” I say. I mean, it's really not all that bad, honestly. It's kinda weird to say, but it feels kinda, I dunno...safe. Like something is protecting me. Which I guess it is, but still, it seems weird to me.

“Here,” Mrs. Mercy says, handing me a diaper like Zacky is wearing. “Just in case you want to try that one on, too.”

I head back to my room with the other diaper, Zacky following close behind. I sit on my bed with my arms crossed, still mad and embarrassed.

Zacky climbs up on the bed and sits next to me. “Are you okay?”

I look away. “Yeah. I guess.”

When Zacky doesn't answer for a moment, I realize that I'm being unfair. It's not his fault. “I just...I know I need diapers, but I don't have to like it.”

Zacky kinda hunches over when I say that. “Do you hate me 'cuz I wear diapers?”

“What? No!” I say. “I don't hate you for that, no! I just...you know what, you're right.” I sigh. “Maybe I'm taking this too hard. I mean, I knew you wore a diaper, and I actually couldn't even tell when I first met you.”

“How did you know?!” Zacky asks.

“Oh, uh...” I start, but I don't want to say that Phillip told me. Then again, I can't keep lying about things. “Phillip told me to make me stop being upset about having to wear a diaper. It's okay, though! I don't think it's bad if you have to.”

“But you just said...”

“I'm just mad that I have to do things differently than I used to. It's not the same for you, since you've always had them.”

Zacky sits quietly for a moment, and then says, “So why do you hafta wear one now?”

“I...I had cancer, and they did a surgery that didn't go right, so it made my stuff not work right down there. So I can't tell when I need to go, and sometimes I wait too long and have a big accident.” He nods after I finish. “So,” I continue, “why do you have to wear one?”

“I was in a car accident when I was 4, and the doctors said I was gonna be paralyzed, but I can walk, I just can't...you know. Control my...when I go to the bathroom. Like, I can't feel it. So I hafta wear a diaper.” He turns red by the end of the story, like he's still embarrassed about it.

“It's okay,” I say to comfort him. “I understand. Mine's not as bad, but I totally get it.”

Zacky smiles. “So you don't hate me?”

“Why would I?” I say. “You're just a kid, like me. We both just need diapers is all, right?”

“...right!” Zacky says after a moment. “Just regular kids.”

Just because, I decide to take my pants and shirt off and just wear my diaper. “Diaper-Man!” I say, pointing my finger in the air like a superhero.

Zacky starts giggling. “You're not a superhero!”

“Yes I am! I'm Diaper-Man! And you're my sidekick, um...Bathroom Boy!”

“Ew! I don't wanna be Bathroom Boy!”

“Okay, then you come up with something.”

Zacky thinks a sec. “Um, how about just Diaper-Boy?”

“Sure!” I say, feeling stupid and silly, and laughing about it still. “Diaper-Man and Diaper-Boy, fighting crime and stopping people from peeing themselves!” I start jumping on my bed. “Diaper-Man and Diaper-Boy can only fly without pants on, though. Quick!” He takes off his shorts and stands on the bed, and I announce, “Up, up and away!”

Zacky starts jumping, too. “Fly away! Uh oh, I think someone is gonna pee in their pants!”

“Oh no!” I say in my deepest superhero voice. “Quick! Get the diaper! We'll save them!” Then I fall backwards on my butt and lay back on the bed. I change to a high voice, saying, “Quick! I can't hold it much longer! Get the diaper!”

“But you're already wearing one,” Zacky says, confused.

I slip off my diaper and kick it to Zacky. “No, I'm not.”

Zacky is super surprised at what I did, but he takes the diaper anyway. “I'll save you!” he says, and starts putting the diaper over my feet. He wiggles it up my legs, and I lift my butt so he can get them all the way up.

“I won't hold it much longer! Quick!” I say as he pulls it all the way up. I decide that if I'm gonna play this part, I might as well play it all the way, so I push real hard and start peeing in the diaper. It's warm, wet, and weird; I expect to feel it around my butt a lot more, but the absorbent spot in front soaks up a lot of it. A little bit tickles my balls as it slips down between my legs. I stop after a few seconds; it feels almost like I didn't pee at all, only a little warm. I feel the spot where my wiener is from the outside and notice that it's a little more puffy than before.

“Did you really pee?” Zacky asks, astonished.

“Yeah. I told you I wasn't gonna hold it much longer.”

“Ohh,” he says slowly. Then he looks in his own diaper. “I guess maybe I need a change, too. I think mine's getting full.”

I look and see that his is definitely yellowish on the front, and it looks heavier. “Well, we have one in here,” I remind him, and then I get a really weird idea. “Hey, how much can your diapers hold? Like, could you wear it all day?”

“Oh, probably not. I get my diaper changed a couple of times a day.”

“Have you ever tried to see how much they hold?”

“No. I never really tried.” He gives me a suspicious look.

I feel like asking him why he doesn't change himself, but he already seems a bit upset. “Um, I'll be right back,” I say as I go get a towel from the closet outside my room, making sure to spy around the corner in case the moms are looking. I see them both in the living room, laughing and drinking wine. Neither looks over at me, so I quickly grab a towel and go back in my room. “Hey Zacky. I wanna try something.”

“Yeah?” he says.

I fold the towel once and lay it in front of him on my bed. “Um, so, you have to take off the front of your diaper.”

“What? No!” he cries out, shying away from me.

“Oh come on, you already saw me naked. Here.” I take my diaper off again and sit on my bed, naked. I hope the moms don't come in.

He sits and stares at me cautiously for a while, but finally untapes the sides of his diaper and leans it down on the towel. I can see the yellow of his pee in it, and immediately smell it, too. It's kind of a strong smell, but it gets better after a moment. Now that I can see it, his wiener actually is a little longer than mine when it's soft. It actually hangs down a little bit over his balls.

I continue, “So we can get you changed into the other diaper in a sec, but I wanna see how much this one can hold.” Then, without letting him say anything, I sit with my legs spread with the front of the diaper between us, and I start peeing on it. I watch as the pee just soaks right in.

Zacky whispers loudly, “What are you doing?!” but he still watches as I'm peeing on his diaper. I dunno why, but I start getting hard while I'm doing it, and eventually have to point my dick down to keep peeing in the right spot. Zacky keeps watching, but eventually just starts peeing a little bit anyway. I think that was just him normally peeing, though; he doesn't even mention it. I dunno if he even noticed.

The diaper starts to look pretty full, but I think I still have more pee. I'm pretty impressed, though, 'cuz that diaper really took a lot.

“Whoa,” Zacky says.

Just to see, I decide to put my diaper back on and keep peeing. It easily holds the rest of what I pee out, like 7 or 8 seconds' worth. By the time I'm done, though, I'm completely hard, pointing straight up. Phillip must be rubbing off on me. I take the diaper off and roll it up, putting it on my nightstand, and then tell Zacky to get off of his own diaper.

He does, and I take it out from under him. He immediately rolls it up and tapes it like he could do it with his eyes closed. He looks for a place to put it, but I just take it and put it next to my own on the nightstand--I'll mess with it later. I take the towel and wipe my privates off, and Zacky does the same with the other end.

He is busy staring at my boner the whole time. I say, “Have you ever seen another person's boner?”

“You mean like when your pee-pee points up like that?” Zacky asks, still staring. I notice that he's actually getting a little bit hard as well, pointing upward and out a little. He adds, “Were there a lot of boners at the sleepover party?”

“Yeah, we all had boners. We did things with them, too.” I can't believe this kid has never seen a boner before.

“Like what?”

“Like...we played with each others' wieners, and we even put them in our mouths.”

“Ew, gross!” he says, wrinkling his face. “Why would you do that?”

I shrug and say, “Because it feels good. Here, let me show you something.” I lean over and take his wiener between my fingers and kinda jerk it off a little bit.

It takes very little time before he gets totally hard, and Zacky even looks down and says, “Wow! That DOES feel good!”

When he's hard, he's as long as I am. Maybe even a little longer, though it's skinnier. I jerk it a little bit more before saying, “So do you want me to show you the other thing, with putting it in my mouth?”

Zacky looks a little concerned and says, “Oh, uh, I dunno...maybe not.”

“Are you sure? It feels really good.”

“Um, I mean, I guess...” he says slowly. “So what do I need to do?”

“Just lay down.” He does, and I basically try do do kinda like Phillip did with me: I crawl up and pop the whole thing into my mouth. It's weird to me at first, since I've never really done this, but I kinda rub my tongue on the bottom side and move up and down slowly.

“Whoa...that feels awesome!” he says, occasionally breathing sharply when I hit a good spot. Then I accidentally gag twice from sticking it too far down in my mouth, and it kinda scares Zacky. He pulls it out of my mouth and gasps, “Are you okay?!”

I wipe my mouth and kinda giggle a bit. “Yeah, I just accidentally gagged. It's okay. So how do you like it?”

“It feels pretty good, but I don't want Mommy to come in and see us. Sex is a grown-up thing.”

I kinda wanna disagree with him, but he has a point with the moms coming in at any time. “You're right. Let's get that other diaper on you.”

He gets the other diaper while I'm putting my own clothes back on (with my other pull-up diaper), but he sits on the bed and waits for me. “Um,” he says, “can you help me put this on? I'm not really good at it.”

Geez, I've never changed a diaper. I have no idea. “Uh, I guess? Show me what I need to do.”

He lies down and thrusts his wiener in the air, placing the diaper kind of under himself. “Make it so the back part sits above my butt, like right at here,” he directs, pointing to his waist. When I do, he lies back down and wiggles a bit to get it perfect. He continues, “Okay, um, just like...bring the other part up over here...now, um, you hafta tape the sides.”

It actually isn't that hard, but I can see how getting the tape right might be kinda weird on one side of the body like that. I tape it nice and tight for him, and he stands up and moves around a bit. “Yeah, that feels right,” he says, and adds, “Thanks!”

I can't help but smile. I know he's 10, but he kinda reminds me of like a little brother. Like, more like a 7 year old brother. I dunno. “You're welcome. Um, so, you might wanna get dressed now.”

“ZACKY!” his mom calls from the living room. “It's time to go!”

He panics for a moment, but he quickly finds his shorts and slips them on. “Coming!” he calls out, and goes to the door.

We go out to the parents. There's not a lot of wine missing from the bottle, so they probably only had like one glass. Daddy would've drank the whole thing, probably. Anyway, Mrs. Mercy says, “You ready, Zacky? We need to get going.”

“Yes, Mommy,” he responds, almost like a robot.

“Besides, you probably need a change,” she adds.

Zacky shakes his head. “Nuh-uh, Mommy. Matty changed me!” he says while they're walking to the door.

His mom stops and looks at him, and then me. “Really?” she asks.

I realize how weird that sounds, so I'm all like, “Yeah, uh, he...we were testing the diapers, like how good they worked, and, um, he said his was full, so I helped put him in the other one, so that...I could get practice in case I wanted to use that one.” I run out of ideas and kinda stop there.

“Oh,” she says, surprised. “Well, thank you, Matty. That was very kind of you. Adria, you have a very nice son.”

“Most of the time,” Mom says, winking at me.

“Um, you're welcome,” I say, blushing.

We say our goodbyes and all that, and they leave. Mom looks at me for a moment and says, “So, are you feeling a little better about the diapers, then?”

I shrug. “I guess so. I really don't wanna wear them at Daddy's house, though.”

“That's your choice,” she warns me, “but you don't want to, say, wet the bed over there, do you?”

I think about what happened the last time I did, and I can feel my heart start beating. “No, ma'am,” I say.

“Tell you what. Why don't we go tomorrow and pick some up, and you can just bring a few in your backpack, just in case you want to use them. How's that sound?”

I force the memories away for now and nod. “Yes, ma'am.” She kinda looks at me funny, but doesn't say anything. “I mean, that sounds good.”

“Good,” she says and nods. “For now, though, it's bedtime.”

I go do my night routine and get in bed. It feels weird sitting naked except with a diaper on instead of normal underwear. I turn on my side to see how it feels, and check the other way, then on my belly. It will take some time to get used to it, but I don't think that, like, it'd keep me awake or anything.

Once I'm all ready, I turn off the light, get my cellphone from my pants, and hop into bed. I decide to text Phillip.

Me: Hey you awake
Phillip: Yeah, I'm awake. Sup?
Me: Zacky left and its bedtime but I'm not tired
Phillip: What's on your mind?
Me: n/m, just thinking about the diapers. (I don't mention that I'm scared about going to Daddy's.)
Phillip: Oh yeah! Have you tried them out, yet?
Me: Yeah I'm wearing one now
Phillip: OMG! Pics or it didn't happen :P
Me: wtf lol fine (I send him a picture of the lower half of me sitting cross-legged with the diaper on.)
Phillip: Is that SpongeBob?
Me: They were Zacky's so yeah
Phillip: They're adorable! I love it! They're really cute on you. Then again, you make everything cute.
Me: lol w/e
Phillip: This is what I'm wearing right now. (He sends me a picture of his stiffy.)
Me: omgwtf?!!?
Phillip: What?? I sleep nude.
Me: Yeah but wtf lol
Phillip: Oh come on, you like it.
Me: :P
Phillip: Okay, okay, fine. That was rude of me. Delete it.
Me: But why?
Phillip: I mean, if you want to keep it, that's fine, but...
Me: Maybe I will. 0:)
Phillip: Pff, and you say *I'm* crazy.
Phillip: Hey, so you're going to your dad's on Friday, right?
Me: Yeah why
Phillip: I want you to do me a favor.
Me: What's that
Phillip: You know, like when you do something for someone?
Me: lol stfu you know what I mean
Phillip: I know, I know. Sorry. Lemme be serious for a moment. I want you, while you're over there, to have my number put in on your phone so that you can call me if you ever feel scared. God forbid, but if he does...anything to you, I want you to call me and put the phone in your pocket. Don't talk to me, just call and leave it on in your pocket.
Me: okay but why?
Phillip: Because that way we'll have evidence in case we need to prove that he did something
Me: Phillip I'm scared
Phillip: I know, but I promise you that if he hurts you, we'll get him put behind bars, or in a mental institution, or somewhere he can't do it again.
Phillip: Look, maybe everything will be just fine. Maybe he won't be drinking, and you guys will have fun.
Me: Maybe
Phillip: I'd want to die if anything truly bad happened to you. If he actually does do something to hurt you really bad, I'll use my powers to make sure it doesn't happen. I'll kidnap you if I have to. :P
Me: lol you would?
Phillip: Think of the news story: “Thousand-year-old kid kidnaps BFF”
Me: rofl
Me: You promise I'll be okay?
Phillip: I swear on my unending life that you'll be okay.
Me: Okay I trust you
Phillip: Try to get some sleep, okay? Don't let it bother you.
Me: I'll try
Phillip: Good. Goodnight, Matty. Sweet dreams.
Me: You too

I put my phone on silent and leave it on the nightstand, and only then realize that I still have two dirty diapers over there. Ew. I get up and go to the kitchen to throw them away; Mom is already laid out on the couch with her eyes closed. I think I can hear her snoring. I wonder how much she had to drink. I wonder how much Daddy had to drink tonight.

I wonder if I'll be able to sleep tonight.

To be continued...