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The Fugitive Kid

by Larkin

I wasn't sure if he was cute until I got up close and looked into his face. He was so intense. Maybe it was the hair destruction or the silver ring in his nose, I don't know for sure but I was under a spell. His fierce exterior covered up a guarded sensitivity. I saw it in his eyes.

Taller than me by a foot, he wore ravaged clothes printed with images and symbols of anarchy. He spat at a flattened soda can that lay on the ground.

He said to me, "Little dude, you think you are okay but you are fucked up like everyone else."

He looked like he was sorry about what he had just said.

"I know." He didn't expect someone my age to give him an answer like that.

Robin swayed, then changed his position to secure stability by propping one foot up on a pedal and the other on the ground.

"Little dude, they are all assholes and they are lying to you about everything."

I didn't really understand what he was telling me but somehow I felt it was true. His laugh was lonely and isolated. When I heard it I had no idea why but wanted to share what little I had with him. No one had ever affected me this way.

He twisted his mouth and said, "People are hypocrites"

He paused for a moment and then said, "I can't help it. I hate all teachers, priests, psychologists and mothers. They are the jailers of the mind. They punish anyone who strays from their fake fucked up world."

I said, "They're not all that way."

He grudgingly said, "Well mostly."

I had never heard anything like that before. I didn't understand it but it lit a fire inside of me. I wanted to believe him. He was cocky and contentious but I could see underneath, it was just a show of defiance. From that moment on I knew I wanted to be with Robin and no one was going to stop me. He didn't look like everyone else and he didn't act like anyone I had ever known.

He said, "Little dude, you don't wanna hang with me because I am seriously fucked up."

I said so he could hear me, "I don't care."

He nodded and said, "Okay, it's your funeral."

He looked at me and said, "Hop on." He meant the back of his bike.

When I did, it like finding the lost puzzle piece. My whole world suddenly became complete. I put my arms around his waist and we flew down the hill. I had let myself be kidnapped, ...willingly. Resting my head against his back I felt like I never wanted to let go. I am totally hooked. I said his name silently to myself, "Robin"

Where do fugitive kids go?

We rode past strip malls, supermarkets, laundromats and rows of run down houses. From above, we were two boys on one bike in a sea of cars, trucks and lights. We passed under highway overpasses and through parking lots and then, finally down neighborhood streets.

Robin's house was worn and unpainted. The front lawn was un-mowed and there was sign that said, "For Sale By Owner"

Inside the house it was dark and musty. We were very quiet. There was a man asleep on a couch in front of the TV. I saw the red and blue mandalas of Fox TV swirling perfectly.

We climbed up creaking stairs. Robin's room was small and stacked with cardboard storage boxes. His bed was in an enclosed corner. It was just a small mattress on the floor covered with old blankets and mismatched pillows.

Unlike the rest of the house, this little bed was his home. We fell down on it together as if at the end of a long journey. Robin's agreeable scent hung in the air. I didn't mind, in fact, I liked it because it made me feel close to him. We had barely known each other more than an hour and he had become my closest friend. I wanted to be physically close like when I was behind him on the bike. My intimacy with him was happening so naturally, that I wondered how anything could be wrong with it.

We talked in hushed tones. "Little Dude, you are awesome, I just met you and I feel so relaxed like we are best friends."

He continued, "Why would you want to hang with someone as fucked up as me? I mean like, everything I do is wrong or fucked up and I am always in trouble with someone or something."

I had no answer to his question, except that I wanted to be with him. I could not resist cuddling closer. He put his arm around me and I rested my head on his chest. I could hear his heart beating. He moved to get more comfortable and then moved again.

He whispered to me, "I can't help it, Little Dude, I gotta jerk off. It'll only take a minute, I promise."

I had no idea what he was talking about until he opened his pants and pulled it out. I didn't move, I just lay and watched. I had never connected sex games with intimacy until this moment.

Robin said, "I always do this alone, it's so different when you have someone with you."

I didn't do a thing except cuddle up close to him. Barely knowing each other we formed an everlasting bond. His moans and cries made me fall so in love with him.

Afterwards he was embarrassed and apologetic. I moved even closer and did something I had never done before.

I hugged him so affectionately. It disarmed him and he became exposed and vulnerable.

I had to go home.

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