The bastard who invented time must've been a vindictive sod: whenever you were having a really good time, you'd suddenly realise the four hours you had had turned into four minutes. Conversely, the forty-minute maths class seemed to be the only time when the second hand of your watch took five seconds to move on a tic.

Time flies. Bollocks. Time is friggin' jet propelled! The weekend had been soooo good - after our yomping session we went back home and just did a lot of nothing in particular - chatting, eating everything that was bad for you and generally kickin' back and enjoying life.

Sunday was almost as bad time wise - we meandered into Derby and had a good four rounds of Quasar (Team Hanson vs. The Rest), spent a fortune at Pizza Hut (how on God's earth can Zac eat so friggin' much?!) and rounded the day off with a movie.

Although uneventful, the following week at school raced past simply because Tay and I were together in every lesson we had. His parents had obviously not taken their sons' homeschooling lightly, as Tay breezed through the lessons and tests without effort, dispelling the roomer that pop stars may be able to sing and look good, but usually only have one brain-cell to share between them.

Zac seemed to settle in extremely well, but much to the dismay of his teachers, never for one moment settled down. However, his interest in history and maths stood him in good stead, allowing his behavior (or lack thereof) to be held in perspective.

Ike was now happy. He had found someone that had been in exactly the same predicament as him as regards his sexuality - unsure of what or who he was, and not wanting to admit it to himself. Being able to both recount and listen to experiences they had had turned them both round. Ike started talking to people, and they talked back. Being in different forms, and hence having different timetables, meant that they couldn't spend half as much time together as they had wanted to.

All this was about to change: the week had passed, and it was Saturday again. I was excited. Hell, I was more than excited! My dream of visiting the States was just around the corner and who better to give me the tour than THE cutest guy on the face of this earth?


On to Chapter Twenty-Four

Back to Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Index

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The Exchange is © 1999 by Dean Lidster. This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.

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