The Plain Truth
by Liz

---

It was good to be home again.

Lance hadn't wanted to come home for the summer. He had prepared extensive, well-thought-out arguments to convince his parents that he should spend the summer in New York, doing an internship at a prestigious Wall Street firm and taking extra summer classes at Columbia. He hadn't seen any way they could dispute the logic of letting him advance his studies and his professional prospects, and they hadn't. They had simply played the trump card that was labeled, "We're your parents and we say so, that's why."

So here he was. Back in the town he not-so-affectionately referred to as "The Middle of Nowhere, PA." And as much as he'd fought against being back here, and as much as every plan he had for his future involved getting far away from dirt roads and farms and a town where every single person knew every other person, right now, looking up at the house where he'd grown up, it was good to be back home.

He'd enjoyed his freshman year at Columbia, and college was shaping up to be everything he'd dreamed it would be. But between a double major in Economics and Accounting, half a dozen extracurricular clubs and activities, and a few disastrous attempts at a social life, he had to admit he was a little burned out. It would be nice to be back in his own bed, in his own room, with his mom fussing over him. For a couple of weeks, at least. It was the rest of the summer stretching out in front of him that looked kind of bleak.

After hauling all the boxes in from the car, his mother gave him a list and sent him out to pick up some things for his extra-special welcome home dinner, giving strict instructions as to which items could be bought at the supermarket, and which he had to drive out of town to get at her favorite produce stand.

Driving down the road he marveled that nothing seemed to have changed much at all, from the two-screen movie theatre with the crooked marquee to the town diner that had survived while fancier restaurants never seemed to last longer than two months. In the supermarket, everyone from the butcher to the cashier greeted him by name and asked how he was doing at Columbia, and told him to say hello to his parents.

On his way out of the store he almost collided with someone, who neatly caught the bag and then almost dropped it again in his rush to give Lance a hug. "Bass! You're back! Why didn't you call, you ass?"

Lance laughed and hugged Justin back. "Just got in, and mom sent me out to do errands right away. And what the hell did you do to your hair?"

Justin shrugged, running a hand over the stubble that had replaced his curls. "Decided it was time for a change. I still look hot, though, so it's all good. Hey, you got plans for tonight?"

"Nothing after dinner, no. My social calendar is looking pretty empty for, oh, the next three months."

"I can't believe you came back here, man. I figured you'd get to New York and never come back." Justin sounded envious that Lance had made his escape, and Lance knew that Justin had similar plans once he graduated high school next year.

"Yeah, well, mom had other ideas. And believe me, debate club is nothing compared to trying to talk down my mom," Lance said.

"Well come hang out with us tonight, Justin urged. "Bunch of us are getting together at Strange Brew around 9."

Lance looked down the street at the town's only coffeehouse. "JC still working there?" he asked guardedly, knowing that like the rest of the town, it was doubtful that this had changed either.

Justin rolled his eyes. "'Course he is. And singing tonight. You know you're not gonna be able to avoid him, not all summer. Might as well get it over with."

And that was probably true. Lance had never been one to turn away from the reality of a situation -- which was part of what had doomed his relationship with JC. "All right, I'll meet you guys there when I can. Hopefully he won't throw hot coffee in my lap or anything." Lance paused, not sure if he should ask. "Is he, uh, seeing anyone?"

"Yeah, you can just ask him that. Not getting in the middle, thank you very much." Justin laughed and backed away.

Lance stuck his tongue out at Justin. "Fine. Be that way. I'll see you later. I gotta go find some produce stand that my mother claims has the best stuff in the world or something. If I'm not back in an hour, you might have to send out a search party."

Driving down the road trying to follow his mom's directions, Lance tried to figure out the best way of dealing with JC when he saw him tonight. Of course he'd known that they'd see each other around town, he just had thought he'd have a little more time to come up with a strategy.

Carefully slowing down to pass a buggy, Lance saw a cluster of cars around a farm stand, and hoped he'd finally found the right place. The farm was part of the large local Amish community, and behind the wooden tables were half a dozen people, the women and girls dressed in long dark dresses with white caps and bonnets, and the men and boys wearing long dark pants, black suspenders, and long-sleeved white shirts. "Hey there," he said to a kid behind the table who looked to be about 10 years old. "Is this the Carter farm?"

The child looked up at him from beneath the brim of his wide black hat, eyes large and fearful, without saying anything, until a large hand dropped onto his shoulder. "Aaron, you shouldn't be afraid of the customers." Turning to Lance, the older boy said, "Yes, we're the Carters, is there something I can help you with?"

"My mom told me I wasn't allowed to get fresh fruits and vegetables anywhere but the Carter farm, so I just wanted to make sure I finally found it," Lance explained.

The boy smiled, a bright flash of white teeth and bright blue eyes. He had the same floppy blond hair peeking out from his hat, and Lance assumed that he and the younger boy were brothers. "Then your mother gives you good advice, though she should have also told you to pick up one of our shoofly pies."

"Nickolas!" A woman down at the other end of the table called out and he turned to her as she let loose a flood of what sounded like German. He answered in the same language, then turned back to Lance. "Aaron can help you with whatever you need, it's good for him to work on being less shy."

Aaron did help Lance find everything on his list, and Lance added a shoofly pie to the order for good measure. Driving back home, he wondered if a stand like that could really make enough money to support a whole family. It had been busy, sure, but it seemed doubtful that it could really be all that lucrative. Of course, they probably were able to grow or raise most of their own food, and they didn't have extra expenses like electricity or cars. But Lance thought about all the people he'd seen working there, and that was a lot of mouths to feed. Maybe studying the economics of it would make an interesting business model for one of his classes next year.

Lance didn't really know much about the Amish community, despite having grown up right next door to it. They had their own schools, their own church, and they didn't really seem to socialize much with the outside world. He'd see them around town sometimes, in their dark clothes, with their horses and buggies tied up. It seemed like a strict, harsh way of life.

Dinner with his parents was warm and cozy and everything he'd been missing while he was away. The convenience of the buffet at the 24-hour deli around the corner from his dorm had nothing on the taste of his mother's chicken and dumplings. And the shoofly pie was so good his mother threatened to make him do all the shopping, since he came back with such delicious food.

"I was gonna head into town, catch up with some of the guys tonight," Lance said casually as he dried the dishes while his mom washed. "Is that okay?"

"Honey, you're eighteen years old, you've been on your own in New York City for the past nine months. We're not planning on giving you a curfew, or making you ask for permission before you go out. Please keep us informed so that we don't worry, but we didn't want you here this summer to keep you under lock and key." She smiled at him, and handed him another dish. "We wanted you home because we love you and we miss you, but I don't want you to have a bad summer."

He hugged his mom, soapsuds and all. "You're the best, you know?"

"I do know, in fact. Now go, meet up with your friends. Oh, and take that casserole dish for Justin if you see him? Lynn left it at the last potluck at the church."

Lance grabbed the dish off the counter as he headed out. Gotta love a small town.

He was early to meet the group, which was good, because it gave him a chance to talk to JC without as much of an audience. Which was bad, because it meant he had to stop being a fucking coward, and go talk to JC.

Like everything else, Strange Brew hadn't changed. Soft lighting, cozy chairs and couches, a small platform off to the side for poetry readings and performances and open mic nights. And JC, leaning against the counter chatting with Chris, but straightening up with a scowl at the sight of Lance.

"Hey, Chris," Lance said easily as he walked over to them, but his eyes never left JC. Damn, he looked good. His hair was longer, wild and curly, and it made his eyes look bluer and his cheekbones sharper. He was wearing a tight little T-shirt and a pair of jeans that were too big and looked like they were threatening to slip off his hips at any second. For some reason the apron tied loosely around his hips made him look even more sexy. Lance's voice caught in his throat, but he made himself say, "Hey, JC."

JC's lip curled with disdain. "Well, well, well. The prodigal son returns."

Chris coughed, loudly. "Why, look at that, JC, it's time for your break! Why don't you go out back and talk to Lance."

"I just had a break."

"See what a kind and generous boss I am!" Chris said brightly. "Guys, seriously. Take this where there isn't an audience, okay?"

JC pulled off the apron, tossed it down on the counter, and stalked out the back door without a backwards glance.

Lance smiled weakly at Chris, finally turning to look at him. "Thanks, man. Sorry about the drama."

Chris gave him a level look. "Listen, I don't get in the middle of my friends' relationships. But you were an ass, Lance. You were a really big ass. So if you want my advice, and even if you don't, go take your licks like a man. I don't need this shit cluttering up the atmosphere in my place."

Lance felt Chris's words like a kick in the stomach, but he just gave Chris a tight smile and nod, then walked out the back door and found JC leaning against the wall, staring up at the sky.

"Hey," Lance said tentatively. JC didn't respond. "C'mon. Talk to me, at least."

JC looked at him, and there was so much hurt in his eyes that Lance recoiled. "Oh, so now you want to talk? That's an interesting change."

"Okay, I deserve that," Lance said.

"Yeah, you do. That and a lot more. An email, Lance? You break off a two-year relationship by sending me an email? What the fuck?"

"I didn't... I didn't mean to do it that way. When I was home for Christmas... I was going to... I just never..."

JC interrupted Lance's babble scornfully. "What, you were planning on tossing it over your shoulder on your way out of town? 'Hey, C, thanks for all the great sex, but I think I'm tired of you now.'"

"I was planning on telling you as soon as I came home for break." Lance's voice was low and strained.

JC started visibly. "What? You never said a word. You were like a ... sex starved college student."

JC was right about that. Once Lance had realized he wasn't going to have the nerve to break up with JC as he had planned, he'd been obsessed with the thought that every time they were together could be their last time. He was only home for three weeks, but they managed to fit in an awful lot of potential "last times."

"I couldn't do it," Lance said. I had all these reasons in my head, and then I came back here, and I saw you... and I just couldn't do it."

"But then... when you went back?"

Lance sighed. "I remembered all those reasons."

"So you sent an email? You couldn't even pick up a fucking phone?"

"I was a coward, okay? I took the chickenshit way out, and however much you hate me, I deserve it. Okay?" Lance reached out toward JC, but dropped his hand halfway. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, you did." JC's posture was still stiff, but his voice seemed to have softened a little.

"It wouldn't have worked out, C. You know that."

"Do I?"

"We're too different. You and me, we want such totally different things from life. I don't understand how you can stay here, in this town, how you can't want to get out there and find other things out of life. You have these... dreams and these ideas, but you don't have any plans how to go out there and make them come true. I look at you, and your life in this town, and I feel... I feel sorry for you." JC flinched, and Lance wished he could take back the words, but he needed to say this, he needed to make JC understand. "I'm... I'm a business major, for god's sake. I understand spreadsheets and formulas and economic indicators. I know exactly where I'm going and how I'm going to get there."

JC's eyes were icy. "And a flaky dreamer boyfriend just doesn't fit in with your lofty plans, huh?"

"It wouldn't have worked," Lance repeated doggedly. "There's more to life than sitting in a field at night gazing up at the stars."

"You know what, Lance? Sometimes there isn't. And if you don't understand that, then I think I should be the one feeling sorry for you."

JC opened the door to go back inside, then turned and looked at Lance. "I know there aren't a lot of places to hang out in this town. I know I'll see you around, I know you'll be here. And I'm not gonna try and make that bad for you. But what you did... it's not okay. And you shouldn't think that just because we can smile and make polite small talk... you shouldn't think that makes it okay."

When Lance came back inside, JC had made himself busy behind the counter. Chris came over and handed Lance a cup. "Still a skim latte, double shot, no syrup kind of guy?"

"Got it in one." Lance took a sip. "Mmmmmm. Better'n Starbucks any day."

"Shhhhh! We do not speak the name of the Evil Empire here!"

Lance laughed. Same old Chris. Chris's mom, Beverly, also owned the diner across the street, and Chris had convinced her that a coffeehouse would bring in a lot of business. She hadn't thought the concept would work in their town, but Chris has worked hard to make the place a success. Now it was one of the most popular hangouts in town for the kids, though as Chris was fond of saying, "Not that it's hard to compete with cow tipping as a form of entertainment."

The bell over the door rang, and a steady stream of teenagers started pouring in. "Seven o'clock movie must've just let out. Mom gets the after-church Sunday brunch crowd, I get the after-movie rush." Chris went off to help JC with the orders, and Lance was quickly surrounded by old friends and former classmates. Lance answered question after question about Columbia, and New York, and listened to a lot of stories that sounded depressingly similar. Community college, lousy jobs, even a few unexpected pregnancies and engagements. God, he was lucky to have gotten out.

Eventually it thinned out to just him, Justin, and Joey at their table. Joey was a couple of years older than Lance, and had graduated the same year as JC. He was one of JC's oldest friends, and Lance was kind of relieved that Joey was still talking to him. He hated the part of breakups where everyone tried to figure out who got "custody" of the friends.

"So I got elected Senior Class President for next year, and word is I'm a lock for the captain of the basketball team. And it's neck and neck between me and Chrissy, but I think I should be able to pull off valedictorian." Justin rattled off his recent accomplishments, and Lance listened, bemused. It didn't sound all that different than his last year of high school. Well, except for the basketball team.

Echoing Lance's thoughts, Joey commented, "Sounds like you're the rightful heir to Lance's Big Man on Campus title, Justin. You even did him one better, cuz man, we've all seen Lance play basketball, and it is not a pretty sight."

"I was captain of the cross-country team," Lance reminded him. "And I lettered in track. My specialty was, um, non-contact sports."

"That's not what I heard from C," Joey said slyly, and he and Justin both cracked up, until they saw the look on Lance's face. "Oh. Right. How's it going with you guys, anyway? He was pretty wrecked after, well, you know."

Lance shrugged, trying to act casual. "I was a dick, he hates me. End of story."

"You guys were good friends, though. I'm sure it'll get better." Joey was a born peacemaker, and wanted nothing more than for all of his friends to get along. Preferably so that he could invite them over and have his mom cook a big Italian meal for all of them. "So, you seeing anybody now?"

"Nah. Haven't really had time." Lance drained his coffee. "You may be surprised to hear this, but you don't meet a lot of eligible young men at Young Republicans meetings. Well, not that are interested in other eligible men, at least." He looked over at JC, who was now over in the corner tuning his guitar, surrounded by - and completely ignoring - a small group of teenage girls who were all gazing at him adoringly. "What about C? He with anyone?"

Justin hadn't told him, but he knew Joey would. "No, he's been flying solo since you two split," Joey said. "Not that some people haven't been trying their best." Justin kicked Joey's chair, and Joey laughed. Lance wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean.

Lance had been planning to hold his ground, to show that he could handle hanging out here in close proximity to JC, but when JC started to sing, he knew he had to get out. It brought back too many memories, too many times when the two of them had been alone together, and JC wanted him to hear his newest song, when JC had written something just for Lance. He wondered, for the millionth time, if he'd made a mistake. But no. All those reasons, the ones he forgot when he looked at JC, they were still there. And they weren't going to go away. As JC and Lance grew farther apart in where their lives took them, those reasons were just going to get bigger. It was better to have made the break now.

"I'll catch up with you guys later, okay?" he said, standing quickly. They looked surprised, but said their goodbyes. Lance swung by to say goodnight to Chris and his sister Molly, who had come over from the diner to help out while JC was playing.

"Hey, do me a favor and run this over to mom, will ya? She called and said they needed change." Chris tossed two bundles of wrapped singles and a few rolls of quarters and dimes into a paper bag. As Lance crossed the street, he tried to imagine anyone in New York blithely handing over a bag of money for delivery.

At the diner, he was smothered with hugs from Beverly, who considered pretty much every kid in town a surrogate child. Ignoring his protests that he wasn't hungry or thirsty, she gave him a big piece of apple pie and a mug of hot chocolate, and he began his umpteenth retelling of all of his New York adventures.

He was just about up to the part where he tried to get his parents to let him stay for the summer when another customer walked in. Lance glanced over at the stranger, and was surprised to see he was wearing the Amish dark coat and hat. Lance couldn't remember ever seeing one of them in here before. The newcomer took a seat a few stools down the counter from Lance, and Beverly brought him a cup of coffee without waiting for him to ask.

"Can I get you anything else while you wait for your sister, Nick?" Bev asked. It was obvious that he'd been in here many times before.

He took a small book out of his pocket. "No, I'm fine, thank you. I'm sure she'll be here soon."

"As soon as JC finishes playing," Bev said, and the two exchanged a smile.

Bev and Lance continued their conversation, and about ten minutes later a young girl came running in. She was wearing jeans and a tank top, and Lance was surprised to see her go over to the Amish boy. "I'm sorry I'm late, Nicky. He started late, and he still hadn't finished, but I knew you were waiting." She seemed proud of herself for having managed to tear herself away.

"It's fine, but Mamma will be worried. Kumme, we should go."

Nick stopped on the way out to hand Bev some money, and he glanced over at Lance. "I hope your mother enjoyed the pie."

Lance realized it was the same boy from this afternoon at the farm stand. "It was great, thanks. You were right."

Once they had left, Lance gave Bev a questioning look. "Nick's sister comes to hear JC play, and Nick usually waits for her here. He used to wait out in his buggy, but of course as soon as I saw him out in the cold, I wouldn't allow that!"

That didn't surprise Lance. Bev would never give up a chance to feed someone. "And that was his sister? But... she didn't look Amish."

"She just turned sixteen a few months ago, so she's doing her running around."

"Her what?"

"Running around... there's some long German word for it I never remember. But when they turn sixteen, they go out and do all the normal stuff teenagers do, so that they know what they're going to be giving up. Nick tried to explain it all to me once. He's a nice boy."

Lance wondered how they could experience a normal life, and then choose of their own free will to give it all up. Definitely strange. Finishing his last bite of pie, he stood up and reached for his wallet. "I should get going home, Bev, but it was great talking to you."

"You put that away, young man. That was your welcome home snack, and you are not paying me for it."

Knowing a losing battle when he faced it, Lance gave Bev another hug and headed on his way home. As he pulled out onto the street, he passed Nick and his sister in his buggy. After a second, he waved, and they waved back.

Driving down the street, he looked down into the passenger seat and realized he'd forgotten to give Justin the damn casserole dish.

* * * * *

After his first few days at home, Lance suspected that the real reason his parents had wanted him home for the summer was just for the free manual labor. He cleaned out the garage, cleaned out the attic, and helped his father install new gutters. As much as he grumbled, though, it was good to be doing something physical. He'd spent too much of the last month hunched over books and computers.

His mother's latest idea was to get him to repaint the fence surrounding the yard, and after a few choice comments about Tom Sawyer and whitewash, Lance headed off to the hardware store to find some paint. He was still a little perplexed about her strict instructions to get the "right shade" of white -- wasn't white just, well, white?

On his way back from the store he noticed a buggy broken down by the side of the road, and as he slowed to pass, caught a glimpse of the driver who was bent down to look at the back wheel. He had removed his hat to wipe his brow, and Lance recognized the blond hair and blue eyes -- it was the boy from the farm stand and the diner the other night. Lance pulled off the road and walked over to him.

"Hey, you need a hand?" Lance bent down to look at the back wheel, and saw that the wheel was bent where it connected to the axle. "Nickolas, right?"

Nick looked at him in surprise for a moment, and then smiled. "The boy with the pie."

Lance laughed. "Yeah, sorry, I don't think we've been formally introduced. Lance Bass, nice to meet you." He held out his hand, and they shook hands. Nick had a strong, firm grasp, and his hand was rough and calloused.

"I am Nickolas Carter. Please, call me Nick. It's nice to meet you, too, Lance." He looked down at the wheel and shook his head. "I will have to go back to the farm and get a new part, I cannot fix this here."

They were clear on the other side of town from the farm stand, and Lance knew it would be a heck of a walk from here. "Can I give you a ride or something? Or... are you even allowed to do that?"

Nick looked at him curiously, and then seemed to understand the question. "Oh, we are just not permitted to own automobiles. We are able to accept rides, or hire cars to take us places. If you're sure you don't mind, I would be pleased to accept a ride."

After moving the paint cans off the front seat into the trunk, Lance climbed back into the car while Nick unhitched his horse from the buggy, then led it over to a tree off the road and looped the reins over a branch. "I do not want her to be hurt if a car should accidentally hit the buggy," he explained as he climbed into the car.

"Will your horse be okay there? It didn't look like you tied her up all that securely, are you sure she won't wander off?" Lance couldn't quite fathom having to worry about his primary means of transportation wandering off without him -- at least not as long as he remembered to lock the doors.

"Bessie is a good horse. She will wait until I return." Nick's language sounded oddly formal to Lance. "She is used to cars and does not startle easily." He sat back, watching as Lance pulled back onto the road and the farmland started to speed by.

Trying to find a topic of conversation, Lance thought back to the other night. "So your sister, she's a fan of JC's, huh?"

Nick smiled, and Lance noticed that he had adorable dimples. "Yes, Roberta Jean tells me that JC is 'really hot.' It seems many of the girls think so. I think they like his music, also. But mostly that he is hot."

"Have you heard him play? He's really good." Lance had first hooked up with JC two years ago after hearing him play at one of open mic nights at the coffeehouse. He'd been utterly captivated by the intensity with which he performed -- and his gorgeous blue eyes.

"No, it would embarrass my sister to have her plain brother there among the English."

Lance tried to decipher that sentence, and failed miserably. "I'm sorry, what?"

Nick looked at him in confusion. "What... what?"

Lance flushed, trying to explain what he meant. "No, I mean... I didn't understand what you meant. What about the English... something?"

Again, it was Nick who figured out the question. "Our people... the Amish... we call ourselves the plain people. Because of our lives, the way we forgo worldly things. You -- your people -- we call the English. My sister, she is in her rumspringa, so she sometimes dresses in English clothes and acts as your people do. If I were to go in there, she would feel that I was watching over her, not allowing her freedom."

"Rumspr...." Lance attempted to twist his tongue around the unfamiliar word. "That is the... running around? When you get to decide if you want to stay Amish?"

"Rumspringa, yes, it is literally running around, in our language." Nick seemed surprised. "How did you know of this?"

"Beverly, at the diner, she mentioned it to me. She said it was a long German word she could never remember." Belatedly, Lance realized it would sound to Nick as if they had been talking about him. Which they had, actually.

"It is a long Pennsylvania Dutch word, but it does sound very much like German. When we turn 16, we get to try worldly things. We are still considered children until we are baptized into our church as adults, when we choose to become members of the community."

"So that's what you did, then? You did the whole running around thing and then decided to join the church and give it all up?" It seemed like such an odd choice to Lance.

Nick seemed surprised by the question. "Oh, no, I'm only 18. Normally you are 20 or 21 when you take the kneeling vow. I'm still considered a boy in the eyes of the church."

"So then why aren't you doing it? The rumspringa?" Lance was pretty sure that he'd pronounced it wrong, but at least he'd given it a shot.

Nick looked out the window, hesitating before answering. "It is... a difficult story."

It was only then that Lance realized that he was pretty much interrogating the other boy. "I'm sorry, all these questions are pretty rude, huh? I didn't mean to pry."

"No, I do not mind. It is interesting to learn about how others live. There were circumstances that made my rumspringa difficult, that is all. But I have fought to make sure that my sisters and brother will have the opportunities they deserve, when it is their time."

"How many brothers and sisters do you have?" That, at least, seemed like a safe subject.

"There are only six of us. Four sisters and a brother."

Lance laughed. "Only six? But that's a huge family!"

"Among our people, it is not. Some families have eight or nine children." Nick pointed out to the right. "That is our farm stand, if you turn right at the next road that will lead you to our farm, if you don't mind."

"No, it's no problem, really." Lance made the turn, noticing that most of the people working behind the stand stopped to stare at the car. "Looks like we attracted some attention."

"We do not have many automobiles here." As they drove down the dirt lane, Lance suspected that was rather an understatement.

He could see the farmhouse now, a large white house. Still he couldn't imagine that it was large enough for a family with six children! There was a large barn and a few other smaller buildings, and he could see some fenced-off pens with chickens and other animals. It wasn't until they were almost up to the house that he realized what was nagging at him as being out of place -- there were no telephone poles, and no wires for electricity.

"Thank you for the ride, Lance. I enjoyed our talk," Nick said, as Lance slowed the car to a stop.

"Me too. I don't mind waiting, if you want a ride back?" Lance had just realized that once Nick got whatever he needed, he was going to have to get back to his abandoned buggy.

"If you are sure you do not mind? It will save me pulling Aaron or my father away from work." Nick seemed so anxious not to intrude.

"No, really, I'm glad to help." It was such a little thing, it seemed like the least he could do. It looked like these people had hard enough lives.

Nick ushered Lance into the house, ignoring his protests that he'd be fine waiting in the car. "Oma, this is Lance. Lance, this is my grandmother." An elderly woman in a black dress and starched white apron and cap came forward, grasping both of his hands and giving him a warm smile. "Oma will take good care of you, I will be back soon." Nick added something to the woman in the language that sounded like German, which Lance realized must be Pennsylvania Dutch.

"You really don't need to go to any trouble --" he began, but she gave him a look that cut him off in mid-sentence. He sat down meekly, then blinked in surprise when he saw her take an ice tray out of a small refrigerator/freezer that looked like something you'd see in a camper. How did they have a refrigerator with no electricity? He'd have to ask Nick.

She gave him a glass of fresh lemonade with ice sparkling in it, and a plate with a piece of pie. He hesitated. "Ist appeditlich," she told him, and he just nodded, guessing she would be offended if he didn't eat it.

It was some sort of apple pie, and it was delicious. He had just about finished when Nick came back inside, ready to go. "Thank you," Lance said to Nick's grandmother. "It was wonderful." She beamed at him as they left.

Lance helped Nick put a new wheel and some tools into the trunk, and they headed back down the road. "That appeditlich was really good," Lance said. "I should get the recipe for my mom."

Nick looked at him oddly. "The what?"

"The pie your grandmother gave me. She said it was called appeditlich?" He knew his pronunciation was probably off, but he thought he was close.

Nick started laughing, and couldn't seem to stop. Lance glanced over at him, and he was leaning against the door, shaking with laughter. "What?"

"It is called snitz pie, dried apple pie." Nick was still giggling.

"Well, that's not what she told me it was!" Lance still didn't get the joke. "What's so funny?"

Finally getting himself under control, Nick wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry, it's just... appeditlich is our word for 'delicious', she was just telling you that you would enjoy the pie. I did not mean to laugh at you."

Now Lance couldn't help but smile. "It's okay. That is pretty funny." He remembered the question he'd had back in the kitchen. "I saw you guys have a refrigerator, how do you manage that without electricity?"

"We use bottled gas -- propane -- to power the refrigerator and to heat our water. And we have a battery-operated pump for the household water."

"But isn't that, I don't know... cheating? I mean, if you're not supposed to have any of that stuff?"

Lance was afraid that Nick would be offended by the question, but instead he seemed to be carefully considering it before answering. "It is not that electricity is bad. It is what comes with it -- television, and radio, and computers -- all the influences of the modern world. That is the kind of technology that draws people apart, not brings them together. The appliances we have are appropriate for our traditions." Nick grinned, that sunny smile that Lance liked so much. "I think the bishops allow it because there is no such thing as a television that will run on propane power!"

"Is that why you're allowed to ride in cars, but not own one?" It was starting to make sense... sort of.

"The world has become very big," Nick said simply. "In my grandmother's time, it was possible to manage without ever having to go a further distance than your buggy could take you. Now it is very hard for that to be so. But to own a car ourselves, that is not allowed. Cars are terribly expensive -- some families would be able to own one, but many would not. That would cause division within the community. And cars can break down the family and community. We do not travel many miles to go to our work, or have friends who are far away. Our lives are here, together."

Lance nodded, still trying to make sense of it all. It seemed so strict. So many rules.

"So what do you do with your days? Are you a worker, or still a student?" Nick offered a question of his own.

"I'm in college, I just finished my first year at Columbia University. In New York City. I'm a business major." Nick gave him a curious look, and Lance elaborated. "We study business models and accounting practices and spreadsheets... um.... numbers. I work with a lot of numbers. And money." It was hard to figure out how to explain what he studied to someone who wouldn't have any experience with any of it.

"Making money, that is very important to the English, is it not?" There wasn't any judgment in Nick's voice, it was just an honest question.

"Well, yeah. I guess. I mean, for some people. And even if it's not important to a person, other people are going to judge him based on how much he makes. So yeah, it is important."

"That must be difficult, for people who find it harder to make money than those who are better at it."

Lance was spared an answer because they reached Nick's buggy. As Nick had predicted, his horse was exactly where she had been left.

Lance helped Nick lever up the buggy and replace the wheel, and in no time the repair was done. "Thank you so much for your help today, Lance," Nick said. "It would have been many more hours away from work for me if you had not helped."

Lance again assured him that he didn't mind at all. "I really enjoyed talking to you. Listen, next time you bring your sister to hear JC, come on in and I'll buy you a cup of coffee. It may not be as appedilich as your Oma's snitz pie, but it's the least I can do."

From the smile that lit Nick's face, Lance knew that he had at least gotten close to saying it right. "I would like that very much," Nick said. "Perhaps I will see you there soon."

It rained for the next three days, so Lance was saved the joy of fence painting, for the time being at least. Of course, that just reminded his mother that the basement needed to be cleaned out.

By Friday night Lance was definitely ready to get out of the house, and agreed to meet up with Justin and the crowd and see a movie. Afterwards, they all headed over to Strange Brew.

"You gonna stick around this time, or you gonna bolt for the door as soon as JC starts singing again?" Justin usually didn't bother with tact if it would take him longer to get his point across.

"Yeah, you're real funny. Anyone ever tell you that you have a great future as a comedian?"

Before Justin could point out that Lance hadn't actually answered the question, Lance noticed that Nick's buggy was tied up down the road from the diner. Squinting in the darkness, he thought he could see someone sitting in the front seat.

"Hey, you go on in, there's someone I want to say hi to. Save me a seat. Actually, save two."

Justin gave him a curious look but didn't ask any questions for once, which was a relief. Lance walked down the road and sure enough, Nick was sitting in the buggy trying to read in the light from a streetlight.

"Y'know, my mom always said that I'd wreck my eyes trying to read in bad light," Lance said conversationally. "Hey, Nick."

"Hello, Lance. It is a pleasure to see you again."

The way Nick spoke made Lance feel like they should be wearing cravats and waistcoats, and making courtly bows. It was kind of neat, though.

"You, too. Why are you sitting outside in the dark?"

It was hard to tell in the bad light, but it seemed as though Nick's cheeks might be a little pink. "I remembered your kind invitation, but I was not sure if I should see you here tonight."

He was so shy, and though Lance usually liked boldness, he found that really charming in Nick.

"Well, here I am. So come on in. Have some coffee. Meet my friends."

Nick climbed out of the buggy, then looked down at his plain clothes. "I do not think your friends and I shall have very much in common."

"Well, no," Lance agreed, as they crossed the street. "But that's just 'cuz they're mostly dumbasses."

Nick was still trying to figure out how to respond to that when they walked in, and although he was sure that he was just imagining it, Lance thought that there was a momentary lull in the conversation when everyone saw them. Nick didn't seem to notice, however, he was just looking around as if trying to take in everything.

Chris has been responsible for decorating Strange Brew, and the walls were covered with album covers from old records. Nick looked like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide, as he took in everything -- the decorations, the lights, all the people crowded around.

At the counter, Lance ordered his usual, and after a moment to think about it, ordered Nick a caramel latte. He thought he'd probably like something sweet. Even though Nick was only about a year younger than he was, Lance realized he was thinking of him like a kid, because he seemed so innocent. Of course, Nick was even taller than Joey, so that made him way too big to be a kid.

"New friend?" JC asked archly, as Lance paid him for the order. "Doesn't really seem like your type."

"He's just a friend, C. Don't even get started with me, okay?" Lance bit back anything else he might have said, not wanting to piss off Chris by having another argument with JC.

Seeing Justin and Joey at a table in the back, Lance led Nick over to them. "Guys, this is my friend, Nick Carter. Nick, this is Joey Fatone, and this loser here is Justin Timberlake." They all said their hellos, Justin and Joey looking curiously at Nick and then Lance, but not asking any questions.

"Nick's sister is one of the JC groupies," Lance offered, just as the girl from the diner the previous week caught sight of Nick, and came rushing over in alarm.

"Nicky? Wass ist letz?"

"Englisch, Roberta," he said mildly. "It is rude, in front of people who do not understand. And nothing is wrong, I am just having some coffee with my friend. Lance, this is my sister Roberta Jean, and Roberta, this is Lance." She shook his hand politely. Tonight she was wearing a pink blouse with her jeans. Nick also introduced her to Justin and Joey.

"You can go be with your friends," Nick assured her. "Have fun, do not worry, I will not tell Mamma anything. I promise." She squeezed his hand, and then ran back to her friends.

"She's a cute kid," Justin said.

"She is a good girl, a very good girl. I am glad she can have this time to have fun with her friends." Nick looked at Joey and Justin. "So do you go to University with Lance in New York?"

"No, Lance and I went to the same high school, I've still got another year left. And Joey was in the same class with JC, so we met him when Lance and C were dating." Justin explained before Lance could stop him.

Lance smiled weakly at Nick. It wasn't that he had really thought about hiding that he was gay, it was just that he had to assume that anyone as devoutly religious as Nick would consider homosexuality an abomination. Looked like this was one friendship that was going to be over before it even started.

He wasn't sure when he'd started thinking of Nick as a friend -- or at least as a potential friend. But he knew he was sorry to lose the chance at that. It had been interesting to talk to someone with such a completely different worldview.

To his surprise Nick, after looking puzzled for a moment, just nodded slowly. "Ah, I see. In my community, too, when a couple is courting, their friends find themselves often getting to know each other better."

And that was all that was said about that.

JC started to sing soon after, and conversation died down. Nick seemed completely absorbed in the music, and Lance found that he was watching Nick watch JC more than paying attention to the performance. He wondered what music was like for the Amish, because Nick was as fascinated as if he'd never even heard it before.

When JC was finished, Nick turned back to the three of them. "That was most wonderful. It must be amazing to have that kind of talent. You must tell your friend that I greatly enjoyed his performance."

"Tell him yourself, I'm sure he'd love to hear it," Joey said. Lance could tell that Joey and Justin still didn't quite know what to make of Nick.

"Ach, no, it would embarrass my sister." Roberta and her friends were all chattering to JC as he put away his guitar. "In fact, I should go wait for her outside. But I enjoyed meeting you very much, Justin and Joey. Thank you for the coffee, Lance. It was good to talk to you again."

And with that, he was gone. Lance watched him walk away, then said to Justin and Joey, "I'll be right back," and followed Nick out.

He caught up with him outside the door. "Hey, you rushed out really fast, is everything okay?"

Nick looked surprised. "My sister is shy for her friends to see me as a chaperone, so I thought it best to wait outside. Thank you for inviting me in, Lance. I like your friends very much."

"Well, you didn't get much of a chance to talk to them, but I think they liked you, too."

There was a pause, then Nick asked quietly, "And JC, he is your... boyfriend?"

Lance hoped it was too dark for Nick to see his blush. "Well, he was. We broke up. But. Yeah. We were... together." Lance took a deep breath. "Does. Um. Does that bother you?"

Nick stopped walking, and turned to face Lance. "I do not understand. Why should this bother me?"

"Well. You. Your people, their beliefs. I figured that something like this, well, it wasn't something that was allowed."

"Lance. My community, we have different beliefs than your people. But our rules only apply to each other. I do not judge you because you own a car, or wear fancy clothes, or watch television. These are not my customs, but they are yours. Why would I judge you based on who you love?"

Lance felt ashamed. "I'm sorry, Nick. I just. I guess I look at all these strict rules you live by, and I somehow think that means you're narrow-minded and judgmental. And you're not, at all. I'm sorry."

"You have done nothing wrong. When strangers become friends, they learn many new things about each other," Nick said thoughtfully. "Then they are no longer strangers."

"I hope so. Come back any time, okay? Maybe we can even get you up to do some karaoke."

"I will ask you to explain this karaoke another time. But I will talk with my sister, and if she truly doesn't mind, then I would like to come back." Nick was obviously very protective of his sister, and Lance thought it was sweet. "Have a very nice weekend."

"Yeah, my weekend consists of painting the biggest fence in the world for my mother. But I can't really complain, I'm a lazy bum on vacation." He saw Roberta Jean come out of the diner. "Drive safe, okay?"

"And you. I hope I will talk to you soon."

Lance watched Nick and his sister ride off, then went back inside. He figured he was in for some ribbing, and boy was he on the mark.

Justin and Joey pounced on him as soon as he got back to the table. "Okay, dude, spill. Who's the new guy?" Justin was practically bouncing up and down.

"He's not 'the new guy,' J. He's just a friend."

"Because you have so many Amish friends?" Joey asked. "How the hell did you meet him anyway?"

"Just... around," Lance said vaguely. It seemed too complicated to explain it all. "I met him a couple times kind of in passing, and then I saw him broken down on the road a few days ago and gave him a hand. He's a cool guy, I liked talking to him."

"He's pretty hot," Justin offered, and then when Joey and Lance both stared at him in amazement asked, "What?"

"You've got some weird fucking kinks, Justin," Joey said.

"Oh, come on. Did you see him? Big, blond, eyes to die for? And those hands! Biiiiiiiig. I bet he's got really strong arms, too, he could totally hold you down with those big hands...." Justin trailed off, his eyes slightly glazed over.

"Um. J? Weren't you... straight?" Lance was wondering if he'd missed a memo somewhere. "You and Britney were together for, like, ever."

Justin rolled his eyes. "Please. Straight is so narrow. I like to think of myself as flexible."

Lance was trying to figure out if Justin had just decided to be bi because he thought it was cool. "Uh. Okay. Are you, um, seeing anyone?"

"Not yet." There was a determined note in Justin's voice, and Lance figured that meant he'd set his sights on someone but hadn't quite closed the deal yet. Knowing Justin, it was only a matter of time. Justin could be extremely single-minded when he decided he wanted something.

"Hey, you guys wanna come over and help me paint a really big fucking fence tomorrow?" Lance figured it was doubtful, but he might as well give it a shot. It'd be way less boring if he had someone to talk to.

Joey looked at him like he was insane, and Justin snorted out, "Yeah, pretty sure not."

"Never mind," Lance grumbled. Some friends they were. "I better head off, I think mom's gonna wake me up at the crack of dawn so I can start painting."

They made sympathetic noises, but didn't go so far as to actually offer to help.

"Bring the boy toy back around anytime," Justin called after Lance. "He sure pretties up the place."

"He's NOT my boy toy!" Lance yelled back, turning in time to see JC staring at him with an unreadable expression. "Well, he's NOT," Lance said again.

In the car, Lance wondered who it was that Justin was chasing after. It wasn't like there were all that many gay guys around, unless there had been a sudden explosion out of the closet since Lance had left.

Oh well, he'd have plenty of time to ponder the mystery tomorrow while he was painting that damn fence.

* * * * *

Lance's mother was painfully cheerful when she woke him up the next morning with a loud, "Rise and shine!" He cracked open one eye and peered toward the window, where he could see sunlight haloing around the drawn shade. Just then she raised the shade, and the sun hit him full in the face. He let out an undignified squawk and tried to hide under the covers, but she had anticipated that move and with a quick snap yanked them off the bed.

Lance took a moment to reflect that he was really glad that he didn't sleep in the nude, then gave in and stumbled toward the bathroom. A hot shower, some old clothes that wouldn't get ruined by a little paint, and a few waffles later, he felt more ready to take on the world.

Which still didn't prepare him to come out of the house and see Nick sitting on his front steps, dressed in his customary dark pants, white shirt and dark jacket, reading that little leather-bound book that he always seemed to have with him. When he heard the door open Nick looked up, a smile on his face. "You Englischers sleep very late!" According to Lance's watch, it was just after 9 in the morning.

"What... what are you doing here?" That was about all Lance could manage to say.

"I've come to help you paint your fence." Nick said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "In return for your help with my buggy, it is the least I can do to repay you."

"Nick, no... you don't have to do this. You don't owe me anything, I was glad to help." Lance looked around, but didn't see a horse or buggy anywhere. "How did you get here, anyway? And how did you know where I lived?"

"It's only a few miles to here from our farm, if you cut across the fields and through the woods. And when I was in town on Friday I looked up your address in this marvelous invention you English have. It's called a phone book."

Lance felt what he was sure was an idiotic grin spread across his face, but he didn't care. "Well, if you were that resourceful, I guess it would be rude for me to turn you away. Come on in, though, you should meet my mom."

Nick slipped his book into his pocket and followed Lance back into the house. His mother met them right inside the door. "No, you are not allowed to take a break yet! Stop complaining and -- oh!" She cut off when she saw he wasn't alone.

"Mom, this is my friend Nick Carter. He came over to help with the painting. Nick, this is my mom Diane Bass." Nick shook Lance's mother's hand politely.

"Of course, you've helped me at the farm. And Lance talks about you all the time. I didn't know you were coming over to help, that's so nice of you. Would you like some breakfast?" And that was mom, immediately trying to feed any person who walked into the house. Lance's mom was the best.

"No, thank you, ma'am. I ate a large breakfast after I finished my chores at the farm." Lance realized that Nick must have been up for hours, since he would have had to do all his regular work at the farm before coming over. Now he really did feel like a slacker.

"All right, then, but you'll have to let me feed you lunch. You boys get started, and I'll be out in a little while with some cold drinks." And with that not-so-subtle hint to get a move on, Lance and Nick went back outside.

Nick carefully took off his coat and folded it up, laying it on the front porch. He rolled up his shirtsleeves and turned to Lance.

Lance looked down at his own shorts and T-shirt, comparing them to Nick's long black pants and heavy shirt. "You want to borrow some clothes or something? You're gonna die of the heat in that." It was still early, but the temperature was already above 80 -- the rain of the previous week had given way to a heat wave.

"No, I'll be fine, I'm quite used to working in these clothes." Of course he was. Lance felt like an idiot for asking.

They got out the paint and brushes, and started on the fence. They fell into a companionable silence for a while, just working. "So did you graduate this year?" Lance finally asked. "You said you were 18, right?"

"Yes, I'll be 19 in January. But I've been done with school for some time." Nick kept painting, careful, even strokes, and Lance had to admit Nick was doing a better job than he was.

"Oh, really? Did you graduate early?"

Nick hesitated, then finally said, "I haven't been to school in four years. Our schooling stops in the eighth grade."

Lance stopped painting, and turned to stare at Nick. "Eighth grade? You don't even go to high school? That's.... that's crazy. Is that even legal?"

It wasn't the most polite question, but Nick didn't seem offended. "It is legal, yes. The Supreme Court has said so, that it is an expression of our religious freedom."

Lance tried to imagine being done with school forever after eighth grade, and couldn't even comprehend it. "But there must be so much you don't learn. How do you even manage?"

Nick had kept painting through all of their conversation, but now he stopped also, and turned to look at Lance. "When you go to school, to high school and now to university, why do you do this? All of this schooling, it has a purpose, yes?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, we go to school to learn. To gain knowledge." Now Lance felt like he was the one on the spot.

Nick cocked his head curiously. "You learn for the sake of learning? You wish to be a scholar, a philosopher?"

"Hardly. I mean, yeah, I like to learn, but not just for the sake of learning. I need to learn stuff for my career, so that I can get a good job when I'm done with school." Lance wasn't sure why his answer seemed kind of lame, but Nick was nodding with satisfaction.

"So you go to school to learn the skills that you need for your future life and career, yes?" Lance nodded. "That is why I left school. My future, my career, is to be a farmer. I will live my life working the land and building things with my hands. Where better for me to learn them than at the side of those who already spend their lives doing those very things? How could I learn more in a classroom, than I can by doing them?" Nick hesitated, as if he wasn't sure if he should say anything else, and then he added, "Lance, you may know than I do about mathematics and science and literature. But do you know the best time of year to breed livestock, or the proper way to manage crop rotation, or how to properly build an irrigation system for your fields? I may not know all the same things that you know, but I am not uneducated."

Lance felt like a complete ass at this point. He'd never meant to make Nick feel like he had to defend his way of life. "I'm sorry. I'm doing it again, making assumptions and --"

Nick cut him off abruptly. "No! You are asking questions because you are curious, because you don't know. It is when people stop asking questions that there is no hope for people to understand each other."

It was the first time Lance had ever heard Nick raise his voice, and he just stood there, blinking.

Nick ducked his head, looking abashed. "Now I am the one who is sorry. I didn't mean to get cross. It's just... I have seen what happens when people make judgments. You are not like that. You want to understand, and I am more than pleased to help you learn." Lance wondered what had happened, what Nick had seen of the intolerance of the world to make him react like that, but this time he knew better than to ask.

They painted busily for a while, finding a surprising variety of subjects to talk about given their lack of common ground. They had lived in the same town almost all their lives, and yet Nick seemed to know infinitely more about the area and the people, both Amish and English. Lance remembered what his mother had told him, that almost everyone she knew shopped at the Carter's farm stand. It gave Nick a great opportunity to observe little slices of life.

"Then Mrs. Kirkpatrick, she is trying to catch Taylor, but the little girl is determined to get into the corn field and run around. So she dives under the table, and her mother goes right after her. When they come out the other side, my brother Aaron is standing there with two strawberry rhubarb pies, and when Taylor runs around her, she knocks Aaron into Mrs. Kirkpatrick, who ends up completely covered with pink, gooey pie."

Lance was doubled over with laughter, imagining Chris's mother crawling under tables like it was an obstacle course. "Oh, man. That's like something out of a Three Stooges movie." Then realizing that Nick wouldn't get the reference, "Um, they were these three guys, in movies, they did a lot of physical comedy."

"Yes, a friend and I went to a Three Stooges film festival a few years ago, it was very funny."

Before Lance could ask about that, about the fact that Nick had had a rumspringa, but seemed to have abandoned it, Lance's mom came out of the house to call them in for lunch.

"Make sure you wash your hands," she reminded them as they came in the house. "Oh, and Nick, I picked up one of those great strawberry rhubarb pies at your family's stand yesterday, so you boys can have that for dessert."

Mrs. Bass looked completely perplexed when the two boys started laughing so hard that they had to hold on to each other to keep from falling over.

The afternoon passed just as quickly as the morning had, and by five o'clock, the job was almost a third done. It was a really big fence. "I must go back to the farm now, for evening chores, Nick saud. But I can come back and help more tomorrow, if you'd like?"

"Don't think that I don't appreciate this, because I totally do, but you really don't have to come back." Part of Lance didn't even want to protest, knowing that the job would be much more enjoyable with Nick's help, but he couldn't help but feel guilty that Nick had all of his farm duties to attend to in addition to this.

"Of course I do not have to. But I want to. This is what friends do, they help each other. And... I would very much like it if we could be friends."

Lance couldn't stop the silly grin that he knew was spreading over his face. "Yeah. I'd like that, too."

They rinsed the brushes off with the garden hose, spreading them on some newspaper in the shed to dry overnight. "At least let me give you a ride home," Lance offered. "So you don't have to walk all the way back."

"It is a pleasant walk, I don't mind." Nick slung his dark jacket over his shoulder, obviously not wanting to put it back on in the sweltering heat.

"Well, let me at least walk partway back with you, then," Lance said, not ready for the day to be over just yet.

They set off on a path that was very familiar to Lance. "Hey, this leads to the old swimming hole." Sure enough, about a mile and a half away from the house, they came out of the woods into a clearing with a small pond. It was deserted, which didn't much surprise Lance. He wasn't sure whose property it was back here, but he'd never really seen anyone else around, aside from the people he brought.

The water looked clear and inviting. "You up for a swim?" Lance asked, already imagining how good the cold water would feel after the heat of the day. Nick looked at the pond longingly, then tipped his head up to check the angle of the sun in the sky. Lance had noticed earlier that Nick didn't wear a watch, but seemed to have a remarkable time sense nonetheless.

"I wish I could, but I must get back. Unless you wanted to swim after dark?"

It sounded like a good plan to Lance, he had often come here at night. Mostly with JC. "Sounds good to me. I'll meet you back here in a few hours."

He ended up walking back almost all the way to the Carter farm with Nick, curious as to how far it really was. Cutting through the woods really did make the trip shorter, but given the choice, Lance still thought it would be a lot easier to hop in the car and stay on the roads. Strolling back home, though, he had to admit that it was nice in the woods, not as hot as it was out in the open, and it felt really peaceful.

He ate dinner with his parents, sharing with them some of what Nick had told him about the Amish way of life. His mother already knew most of it, apparently Amish schooling was a hot topic of conversation around the teachers' lounge. To his surprise, she seemed to agree with Nick, that the best way to prepare themselves for their adult responsibilities was to leave school and start learning them first hand.

"Do you know anything about this rumspringa, the running around that teenagers do?" Lance asked.

"Well, I don't really know the details of it, just every now and then it seems to go really wrong. I know there was that documentary a few years back about how the kids were really running wild, doing drugs, staying out all night, getting into all kinds of trouble. And a couple of years ago, there was that terrible accident with those two kids who stole a car, though I don't think the owner pressed charges." She looked a little alarmed. "Why, is Nick into that sort of thing? He seemed like such a nice boy."

No matter how old Lance got, it seemed that his mother would always worry about him falling in with the 'wrong crowd.' "No, I don't think he is, though he told me that he hadn't been baptized into the church as an adult yet, so I guess he could be doing it if he wanted to. His sister is, but she just seems to be wearing blue jeans and hanging out with other girls and stuff, it doesn't look really wild. There's different ways to handle it, I guess."

Lance promised his mother that he'd be careful, though it seemed a bit farfetched that after spending two semesters in New York City, she was worrying that he was going to be led astray by some out of control Amish kids.

Nick was already at the pond when Lance got there, sitting on a quilt, staring up at the sky where the stars were twinkling. With the full moon, it was surprisingly bright in the clearing.

Lance started to spread out the things he had brought with him, when he really got a good look at the quilt. It was a geometric pattern, with simple colors but an intricate design. "Geez, Nick, you shouldn't put this on the dirt. My mom got one of these last year, it cost like $400, she's got it hanging on a wall."

Nick laughed. "This is almost worn out, Don't worry about the quilt, we don't have to pay ridiculous prices at the farmers' market for them, I think one of my aunts made this."

Feeling a little foolish, Lance kicked off his shoes. He was reaching for the hem of his T-shirt, when he suddenly realized that he had no idea what the Amish strictures on modesty were. Nick always wore long pants, and long sleeves, though he had rolled them up to paint the fence that day. But he didn't want to break some cultural taboo, so he turned to ask Nick if it was okay if he stripped down to his swimming trunks.

The words died on his lips, however, because if the Amish had rules about modesty, Nick didn't seem to be concerned about them. He had already shed his shirt, and was working on the buttons that held the flap of his pants closed. He was turned partly away from Lance, and Lance could see the smooth expanse of his back, and the curve of his hip where it disappeared into his pants. In profile his chest was broad and smooth, his shoulders wide, and Lance realized that Justin had been absolutely right. Nick was hot. Nick was really hot.

Nick dropped his pants, revealing a pair of swim trunks very similar to Lance's, and looked up to catch Lance's stare. He smiled. "What, you expected I would wear one of those swimming costumes from the 1800's?" He gestured at his bare legs. "With the bloomers?" Without waiting for Lance's answer, Nick stepped past him, jumping into the water.

Shaking his head to clear it, Lance stripped out of his T-shirt and shorts, following Nick into the pond. He swam around, trying to get his thoughts together. Okay, yes, Nick was hot. How he hadn't noticed it before now, he had no idea. Or maybe he had noticed it, he just didn't want to think about it, because really, what was the point? It wasn't like Nick would be interested.

A splash of water hit Lance full in the face, and he spun around, sputtering. "Hey!"

Nick grinned mischievously. "Did you come here to brood, or to swim? I thought you Englischers knew how to have fun!" He splashed Lance again, then swam away.

"Oh, I'll show you fun!" Lance dove after Nick, pushing his head under the water. Not letting being submerged deter him, Nick grabbed at Lance's ankles, pulling him underwater, too.

They horsed around in the water for a while, laughing and shouting and swallowing about half the pond in the process. When they finally collapsed back on the quilt, their stomachs hurt from laughing.

"This was a good idea. We should totally do it again, at least as long as this heat wave lasts," Lance said. He grabbed one of the cans of soda he'd brought and passed it over to Nick, who nodded in agreement.

They sat there for a while longer, munching on the cookies Nick had brought, until the mosquitoes became annoying. Lance made a mental note to bring bug spray next time, he'd obviously spent too long in the city if he could forget something as essential as that.

After jumping back into the pond for one last dip, Lance shook the water out of his hair, then rubbed at it briskly with a towel. When he looked up, it was his turn to catch Nick staring, looking up at Lance shyly from under his eyelashes.

Lance felt his heart rate jump. Maybe Nick wasn't so uninterested after all. But Nick just glanced away, and finished drying off and getting dressed. If there had been a moment, it was gone.

"I will see you tomorrow morning," Nick said after they'd gathered up all their things. "Try not to sleep so late and keep me waiting again," he teased.

Lance tried to tell if there was anything different in the way Nick was talking to him, any hint of heightened awareness. Then he told himself that he was acting like a girl -- a stupid girl -- and stopped overanalyzing everything. "Yeah, yeah, making me look bad in front of my mom. I'll see you in the morning."

Nick waved, and headed back to his farm. Lance watched him go for moment, blond hair gleaming in the moonlight, then he turned and headed back home.

* * * * *

It took them only two more days to finish the fence, and sometimes Lance wished that the fence was longer, so that he'd have an excuse to see Nick every day. They had fun doing the work together, and Nick had a droll sense of humor that took Lance by surprise. Every day, Nick did more to break down the image in Lance's head of the dry, humorless Amish, living their lives on the farm and never having any fun. Nick talked about events in the community, though he rolled his eyes when Lance asked about barn raisings. "All of you people who saw Witness, you think we have barn raisings every week. It's only when someone is building a new farm, or has an accident. But yes, we really can build a barn in a day, or most of it, at least. And if you are a very naughty boy, you will climb the frame and walk the ridgepole, because your friends dared you to. And then after you get down without breaking your neck, your papa will take a belt to your backside!"

There was a fond smile on Nick's face when he said it, clearly a memory. "Well, it looks like you survived the punishment okay," Lance said.

Nick's face grew instantly somber. "Oh, no, I never tried. I was never the daredevil. Though Aaron, he looks like he might have the makings of a troublemaker, always getting into things. But no, I was never so daring." And as always, when Nick talked about his life in that sad, serious voice, Lance didn't ask any more questions.

The summer was turning out better than Lance had ever expected. When he went into town he and JC were on civil, if not quite cordial, terms. It was great seeing Joey and Justin again, along with the rest of the hometown crowd. But Lance spent less time with them than he'd expected to, because whenever he could, he was hanging out with Nick.

Nick didn't have a lot of free time, and his responsibilities were many, but it seemed to Lance that he got away as much as he could. After they finished the fence, Lance got in the habit of passing by the farm stand in the afternoon, when Nick usually filled in so that his grandmother and some of his sisters could go eat lunch and start preparing dinner. Lance would pick up some produce or baked goods for his mom, and casually ask Nick what he was doing that night. Nick's sister had told him that she didn't mind if he came into Strange Brew when she was there with her friends, though, Nick told Lance, she had said she'd prefer if Nick could wear English clothes. Lance thought it was probably good for his libido that Nick didn't, because the thought of Nick in a tight pair of blue jeans was enough to fluster him. He had a feeling the reality would do him in.

Most nights, though, they went to the pond, swimming and talking. Lance hoped that the heat wave would never end, and was bitterly disappointed whenever it rained.

He hadn't told anyone about his growing feelings for Nick, because he didn't know who he could possibly tell. His parents were the best, but who wanted to talk about guys with their mom and dad? Justin would think it was hot, and press for all sorts of kinky details, of which there were none. JC was out for obvious reasons, and so was Chris, because he was such close friends with JC. That left Joey, and Lance knew that Joey would be the perfect person to talk about this -- he'd listen carefully, never judge, and offer the best advice that he could. Still, talking about it out loud would make it real, and Lance was still trying to live in the happy land of denial. Maybe if he ignored it long enough, it would just go away.

It was hard to ignore it, though, when every time he turned around there was Nick, friendly and so beautiful, in his open, artless way. But Lance couldn't fall for someone like Nick, it was just too hopeless. They were too different, in every possible way. And even if sometimes Lance thought he caught Nick sneaking careful glances, it was easy to tell himself that it was just his imagination, spinning fantasies. Nick never said a word to indicate that he was anything other than he appeared, a nice, obedient, completely straight Amish boy. He laughed at Lance's jokes, and teased him, and touched him in a friendly, casual way, but that was all.

But no matter how hard Lance tried to tell himself to get over it, actually getting over it was hard to do.

One night they were at the pond, sitting on the quilt and looking up at the sky the way they always did after the first swim. The moon was just a thin crescent tonight, and the stars filled the sky, so bright and glittering that it seemed as if you should be able to reach out and touch them.

"In New York," Lance said, "you usually can't even see the stars, because there's so much light."

"A city that outshines the stars," Nick said in a wondering voice. "That must be quite something to see." He shifted slightly, pointing up at the sky. "Look how bright the summer triangle is tonight."

"The what?" Lance squinted up, trying to make some sense of the glittering array.

"Those three bright stars... like a V... there, and there, and there. Don't you see?"

"I think... no." Lance gave up, but Nick moved closer, scooting up behind him. He reached over and put his hand over Lance's, pulling their hands up together, pointing again.

"There. And there. And there."

Lance sighted down the line of their clasped hands, trying to ignore the feel of Nick pressed against them. Neither of them was wearing a shirt, and Nick's chest felt warm and smooth against his back. "Okay, yes, I see them. What did you say it was called?" He hoped that if he kept Nick talking, he might forget to move away.

"The brightest star, that is Vega, on the top right. It is in the constellation Lyra - the lyre. The legend says that the Greek god Apollo, the sun god, gave his son Orpheus a lyre, and taught him to play it so beautifully that his music would soothe the most savage beast into submission. But Orpheus died, so the gods took his lyre and put it into the heavens, so that we would be able to hear his music forevermore. Those four faint stars, there," and here Nick circled their clasped hands, "those are the strings."

"How do you know all this?" Lance asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He was afraid that if he spoke too loudly, or moved, or even breathed that the spell would be broken.

"From books, mostly. I've always loved the stars." They were sitting so close together that Lance could feel the warmth of Nick's breath on his neck.

"Tell me more," Lance said, and after a brief pause, Nick did.

"The bottom of the V, that is Altair, the beak of Aquila, the eagle. Those fainter stars on either side, they are his wings, reaching out. East from there, that small diamond, do you see?" Lance just nodded. "That is Delphius, the dolphin. And that small star below the diamond, it is his tail. The third star in the summer triangle, that is Deneb. It is part of Cygnus, which is the swan. There is the long neck, and the wings, and the tail. Sometimes it's called the Northern Cross."

Nick's hand, still holding Lance's up to the sky, traced down the length of the tail, before coming to rest on Lance's thigh, their fingers still entwined. Lance turned his head to look at Nick, and their faces were just inches apart. "You amaze me," Lance said.

Nick smiled shyly, but he didn't pull away. "When I was a boy, my grandfather taught me how to predict weather by looking at the stars. Depending on how bright certain constellations are at certain times of year, you can tell if the upcoming season will be rainy or dry. So we would know if we needed to plant early, or wait longer. But as practical as the stars could be, I was always fascinated by the myths and stories. You can look up there and picture ancient civilizations, staring up the sky and creating their legends, spinning their tales. I would sneak out of the house, after I was supposed to be asleep -- it was very disobedient of me -- and I'd stare up at the stars to find shapes that I could use to make up my own stories."

"I thought you said you weren't bold and adventurous," Lance teased lightly. "That sounds pretty daring to me, sneaking out of the house at night."

"No. I was never bold. Not in the way that some people are. And even now, I weigh what I want against the rules and traditions, and I stop myself from reaching out for what I want." Nick's eyes met Lance's, steady and calm, and there was a moment there when Lance thought that if he'd moved to kiss him, Nick might have kissed him back.

But the moment passed, way too quickly, and Nick broke Lance's gaze. Lance knew that Nick was about to move away, to break their contact, and he heard the words come out before he even realized he meant to say them. "I wanted to be an astronaut, when I was a little boy. I wanted to be up there, to go to the stars."

Nick squeezed Lance's fingers, just once, but he didn't let go, and he didn't pull away. "So why did you not?"

Lance had never talked about this before. Not to anyone. He forced a laugh, but it sounded hollow and fake. "Oh, you know. You grow out of it. I also wanted to be a cowboy and a fireman. Oh, and for a little while a ballet dancer, but I try not to talk about that much. Stereotypes about gay men and all."

Nick shook his head, dismissing Lance's jokes. "Tell me the truth."

"It wasn't... practical." The word seemed to burn. "There's no guarantee, no security. The vast majority of people never make it. I would have been putting everything on the line, just for the smallest chance. It wasn't... safe."

He waited for Nick to say something. To call him a coward, to remind him that life didn't have any guarantees to begin with. To hate him because he'd been too weak to go after his dream.

Instead Nick just smiled, a sad, sweet smile as if he understood all too well, and then he said softly, "So you gave up the stars."

Lance leaned back against Nick, tilting his head up against his shoulder looking up into the night. "But tonight you gave them back to me. Thank you."

They sat there together for a while longer, just looking at the sky.

* * * * *

By now the gang didn't seem to think anything of it when Nick showed up at Strange Brew, though Justin still liked to tease Lance about him when Nick wasn't around. Lance figured Justin might stop sooner if Lance could manage to keep from blushing at Justin's comments.

Tonight Justin was firing questions at Nick, who was answering with his usual good humor. Justin's endless questions about Amish life never seemed to bother Nick, though sometimes the questions were phrased so bluntly that Lance felt offended on Nick's behalf. Usually Joey could turn the conversation onto a more neutral topic, but he hadn't shown up yet. Justin had said that he thought Joey was bringing a friend tonight, some guy he worked with.

Tonight was the first time that Nick had come when JC wasn't singing, which meant he wasn't using his sister as an excuse to be there. Lance was pretty happy about that.

"So what's dating like?" Justin wanted to know. "I mean, you don't have school, right, so there's no dances, no football games. You can't go to movies. What do you do?"

"Well, there's always sex," Lance said dryly.

Justin's eyes grew wide. "You can have sex?"

Nick was trying not to laugh. "No, no, we do not have sex. I mean, when we are married, yes, married people have sex. But outside marriage, that is a sin. I am sorry to disappoint you," he added, at Justin's look. "Usually when a boy likes a girl, he will ask her to ride home from singing." At their confused looks, he explained, "Sunday nights, after church, the young people will get together and sing hymns."

"And that's like the biggest social event of the week?" Justin asked, and Nick nodded. "Man. That's pretty scary."

"Do the boys always ask the girls?" Lance asked. "I mean, if a girl really liked a boy, could she ask him?"

"It is not usually done that way. Traditionally, the boy asks the girl. If a girl were to ask, she would be considered... bold." It was a pretty mild word, but the way Nick said it made it sound like a horrible slur.

"But that running around thing, when you turn 16? Then you can go out and do, like, real fun stuff, right?" Justin asked. Nick had explained to them all about his sister's rumspringa, and why she and her friends wore English clothes.

"You can, you can do everything that has always been forbidden. Some people use it as an opportunity to do too much, because they are so eager to experience all that has been denied them," Nick said. Lance remembered what his mother had told him about the Amish teens who got in trouble, and wondered if Nick was speaking from personal experience.

Justin frowned. "But you're only 18, shouldn't you be doing that now? Running around, wearing crazy clothes, having sex?" With Justin, it always came back to sex.

"I started my rumspringa when I was 16, just like everyone else. But it was... difficult. There were complicated circumstances, and after a short time I went back to our way of life. I am not yet baptized in the church, but perhaps at the end of this summer. Our Bishop wants to be sure that we're ready before he allows us to take the kneeling vow."

"So you could still do it if you wanted?" Justin asked. "I mean, if you wanted to, as long as you haven't been baptized, you could still have your... rumspringa thing?"

"I could, yes. But there is no need, because I have made my choice. Besides, what could be more exciting than asking a nice girl to ride in my buggy after we have sung hymns?" Nick was teasing Justin, knowing that Justin couldn't even imagine choosing that kind of life. But Justin had thought of a new question.

"Can a boy ask a boy?" At times like this, Lance was thankful that Justin sometimes had little to no manners. It was the question Lance had really wanted to ask, but hadn't had the nerve. Count on Justin, who was so proud of newly being bi that he practically wore rainbow T-shirts, to ask the uncomfortable questions.

And even though Justin had asked the question, Nick smiled at Lance as if he knew who really wanted to know. "No, boys do not go with boys, and girls do not go with girls. In the Amish community, homosexuality is not accepted. Marriage is for procreation, to make families. That is God's will."

"Pity." Justin dismissed it with a sigh. "They don't know what they're missing out on."

"Do you even know what they're missing out on, J?" Lance asked. He was amused by Justin's whole attitude toward his new 'lifestyle.' "I mean, you talk a good game, dude, but as far as I've seen, it's just talk. Have you even hooked up with anyone?" It was a constant source of jokes for the group, because for all that Justin was eager to let everyone know he was bi, no one had ever seen him with a guy.

"I'm just biding my time. Believe me, I've got my eye on someone." Justin licked his lips lasciviously, and Lance and Nick both laughed.

Just then, JC came up to the table with a tray of cups. "Here, Chris is inventing a new recipe, he said to send it over to you guys and try it. It's... chocolate/marshmallow/caramel... oh, I don't remember what it's called, I'd go for 'Death by Sugar Shock', personally, but give it a shot and let him know what you think."

Everyone took a cup, and gave it a try, but Lance couldn't help noticing Justin's behavior. He took a small sip, then deliberately licked his lips, and peered up through his eyelashes at JC, who was still standing by the table. "Mmmmm. Sweets from the sweet," Justin practically purred.

JC smiled, and rubbed Justin's curls absently, patting him on the top of the head. "Glad you like it, J. I'll tell Chris it'll be a hit with the kids." Then with a smile at Nick and Lance, JC went back toward the counter, totally missing the way Justin's face fell.

"JC?" Lance hissed, once the topic of conversation was out of earshot. "The guy you have your eye on is JC???"

"Well, duh," Justin said, as if the answer should have been perfectly obvious. "He's one hot piece of ass, as I know you know. And I know he wants me, too. Or he will, once he gets past that whole age thing. I mean, he dated you, and I'm only two years younger."

Lance had to be impressed by Justin's boundless confidence. Sometimes he wished he could borrow some of it.

"Does it bother you?" Suddenly Justin was completely serious. "Because, man, if it bugs you, just say so, and hands off. Ex-boyfriend's prerogative, and all that."

Lance desperately wanted to see what the expression on Nick's face was at the moment, but he resisted the urge. "It's totally cool with me, J. C and I are long over, and as the asshole in that relationship, I don't think I'm allowed to claim any prerogative. If, uh, that's what you really want, then, uh, good luck."

"Careful with that enthusiasm there, Lance, you might sprain something," Justin said dryly.

"It's a little weird, okay? I used to date JC, and you used to be straight. But, seriously. He's a great guy. You both are."

Justin beamed at Lance, and gave him a loud, wet, kiss on the cheek, before bounding over to the counter to order something else -- and to flirt with JC. Lance wondered how he could have missed it, since subtlety wasn't really Justin's forte.

"If it bothers you, you shouldn't worry," Nick said. "JC does not see Justin that way. The only person he looks at that way is you."

Lance turned to Nick, surprised. "Nick, JC and I broke up over six months ago. And believe me, after what I did, I'm the last person he wants." He looked at the front of the coffeehouse, where it looked like Justin had artfully draped himself over the counter, and JC was filling orders, completely oblivious. "And no, it doesn't bother me."

Nick was about to say something else, when Joey walked in, closely followed by another guy. "That must be the friend J was talking about, they work at the movie theatre together," Lance said. The stranger had short dark hair and a short, stylized beard, and despite the fact that it was dark out, he was wearing sunglasses.

Nick was staring at the newcomers very intently, a little frown on his face. He stood up, as if to get a better look. Lance was about to ask him what was wrong when Joey caught sight of them and came over to the table, his friend still trailing behind.

"Hey, Lance, Nick, this is my friend AJ, from the theatre. Aje, this is --."

"Nicky?" the young man named AJ asked, pulling off his sunglasses. "Nicky? Oh my god, it's really you."

AJ grabbed Nick into a hug, holding him tight. "Alex?" Nick whispered, clutching on just as tightly, tears filling his eyes.

Joey and Lance exchanged curious looks. Neither one had any idea what was going on.

AJ pulled back, looking at Nick eagerly. "Look at you, you're so grown up. I can't believe it's you. Tell me everything, how are you, how is your family? How is my Oma, is she well? Does she ask about her sindhaft?"

Lance could see Nick's face freeze. He closed his eyes for a second, and then stepped back, away from AJ. "Alex... I can't. You know that... when you took the Meinding...." Nick kept backing away, his eyes never leaving AJ's face. "I can't... I can't do this." Nick looked around the room wildly, then seemed to remember that his sister wasn't there. "I'm sorry," he said, his eyes sweeping across everyone, and then he pushed through the crowd, and ran out the door.

Lance barely had a chance to register the devastated look on AJ's face, because he shoved back his chair and followed Nick out the door. He didn't even stop to think that what had happened was none of his business. Nick needed a friend.

He found Nick partway down the street, standing at the railing of the old wooden bridge that ran across the creek. He was staring down at the water, and when Lance came up next to him, he wasn't too surprised to see tears on Nick's cheeks.

Lance didn't say anything. If Nick wanted to talk, he'd listen.

"Alex was one of my best friends growing up," Nick finally said, and Lance wasn't all that surprised. From the questions AJ had asked, heck, from the way they reacted to each other, it was obvious that Nick and AJ had known each other for a long time. "I idolized him. He was two years older than I am, and so bold, so fearless. When there was a barn raising, he always walked the ridgepole. He couldn't pass up a dare, couldn't let a challenge go by. He had a rebellious spirit, and in the world we lived in, the one thing that could not be tolerated was rebellion. Our lives are based around our submission to God's will."

Nick reached out and gripped Lance's hand, where it rested on the railing. Lance gripped back, a firm, steady pressure.

"When he turned 16, and started his rumspringa, he went wild. He stayed out all night, sometimes for days at a time. He found friends, older boys, who had ways of getting liquor, and drugs, and women. He... he was lost to us, for a long time. His whole personality changed, he wasn't the Alex I had known all my life. And yet... he was still the boy I had idolized for so long, and I couldn't quite bring myself to condemn his actions."

"What changed?" Lance asked quietly.

"When I turned 16, Alex had already been running around for two years. He was so excited that I was of age, that he could show me all the wonderful things that I'd been missing. And for a short time, it was wonderful. Alex was careful, he didn't want to scare me. So we went to movies, and out dancing. My girlfriend, Amanda, she had just turned 16 also, and we would go to the apartment that Alex shared with some other boys, and he'd let us use his bedroom. It was a wonderful time, I felt carefree, like all the responsibilities in the world had been lifted from my shoulders, and I was finally allowed to do whatever I wanted. It's a heady sensation. It can be very... addictive." Nick threw out that last word bitterly.

"I started drinking, too much. Alex was doing drugs, and drinking a great deal. I smoked some pot with him, once, but the drugs... they scared me. I had never been as bold as Alex, and I was still afraid to try to be. One night... Alex wanted to go into the city to buy some drugs, and he asked me to go with him. I could never say so no to him. He said that a friend had let him borrow his car, and of course, I believed him. Why wouldn't I? We had both been drinking, a lot, we never should have been driving. We were barely out of town when Alex lost control of the car, and we veered off the road and hit a telephone pole. We were lucky we weren't killed."

Lance's mother had told him about two Amish boys who stole a car and then crashed it. "It wasn't his friend's car, was it?"

"No. His friend had stolen it from a parking lot earlier that afternoon. Alex said he didn't know the car was stolen, and that I do believe. No matter how far gone he was, he would not have robbed someone. I have to believe that at least that much of the boy I knew was still there." His grip on Lance's hand tightened. "I do not know how, but no one got arrested. Probably the elders from the church convinced the authorities to let them handle it within the community. I do not know. But the owner was paid for the damage to his car, and Alex and I got some very stern lectures from the Bishop."

"That's it?" Lance didn't want to sound harsh, but it sounded like they had gotten off pretty easy.

"In our community, when you sin, the goal of the church is to bring you back to God. So you can learn from your mistakes, in order to know how best to let Him into your heart, so that you do not fail again. We were children, we were not adults in the eyes of the church. Rumspringa is the time when you make your youthful mistakes. Some mistakes are bigger than others, but if you submit to God's will, He will always forgive you. But... Alex couldn't do that. He decided to leave.

"Leaving the church... it is not an easy thing. Our way of life says that we keep ourselves separate from the outside world. If you leave the community, then you become part of that outside world. It is like you don't exist... like you never existed. Your family cannot contact you, your friends cannot speak to you. Your name is never spoken. That is the Meinding, the shunning. And that is what Alex did."

"But that's ridiculous," Lance protested. "You don't separate yourself totally from the outside world, you sell produce to it! And we're friends, even though I'm 'English,' and I don't see your church throwing you out."

Nick sighed. "We sell our products to the English, but we do not live like them. We do not accept their ways, their worldliness. Our tradition is one of separation, it is what defines us. And Lance... we are only friends because I have not yet been baptized. If I were an adult, our friendship could not be."

It was a harsh blow, and it made Lance realize how much he had come to value Nick's friendship. "Then... then I'm glad I met you before you joined the church. Because I like our friendship, Nick. I... I like you. A lot."

There was more behind Lance's declaration than simple friendship. He didn't know if Nick would hear it, and if so, he had no idea how Nick would react to the realization.

Nick turned to Lance, reaching to clasp Lance's hand in both of his. "I feel for you, too, Lance. In ways... ways I have never felt before."

Lance thought his heart might jump out of his chest, but he held his breath, waiting to see what would happen next. Nick stared at him, and the expression in his eyes was a combination of fear, hope, and confusion. It hurt Lance to see that in Nick's eyes, to know that he was the cause of some of Nick's pain.

With his free hand, he gently reached up to stroke the hair at the nape of Nick's neck. It felt like long strands of silk. Before he could tell himself that this was a bad idea, before he could even let himself think about what he was about to do, Lance leaned forward and met Nick's lips in a kiss.

It was a gentle kiss, chaste and sweet, their lips barely touching, mouths closed. Nick leaned in, toward Lance, and one hand released Lance's to rest on Lance's waist.

Lance wasn't ready for the kiss to end when Nick pulled back, all the expressions on his face having resolved into shock. He shook his head, as if to clear it. "I can't... it's too much... Alex, and then you, and this... I just. I can't. I'm sorry." And for the second time that night, Nick turned and ran. This time, Lance knew he had to let him go. At least for now.

He walked back to the coffeehouse, his fingers ghosting over his lips, trying to recapture the sensation of that brief, perfect kiss. He was paying so little attention to where he was going that he nearly tripped over Chris, who was sitting on the bench in front of Strange Brew, drinking a cup of coffee. From the look on Chris's face, Lance wondered how much he'd seen.

"You know, I don't like to get in the middle of my friends' relationships," Chris began --

"And yet, you always say that right before you do precisely that," Lance snapped. He didn't want a warning, and he suspected that was exactly what he was about to get.

"I don't like to get in the middle of my friends' relationships," Chris repeated, "but I just want to make sure you know what you're doing here, Lance. Nick is a good kid, a great kid, but he's from a different world. And I mean that pretty literally, because he might as well be from Mars for all the two of you have in common. You broke JC's heart because you felt the two of you were too different, that there was no way to make it work. JC, he's a tough kid, but he could barely handle what you did to him. How do you think Nick will manage?"

"That's not fair, Chris," Lance said. "This isn't anything like --"

"You're right. This is much, much worse."

Chris tossed his cup in the trash can, and turned to go inside, but Lance's voice stopped him. "You don't know what you're talking about, and I really think you should stay out of it."

Chris turned back, his expression fierce. "I don't know? Are you kidding me? I was here, Lance. I saw the mess you left behind last time. You know, when you went off to school, JC was so damn proud of you. His college boyfriend, conquering the Ivies. I heard about every letter, every phone call, all the exciting things you were doing off in New York. And when the phone calls didn't come so often, and the emails kept getting shorter, he said that he knew it was because you were working so hard, you were so busy, and of course he understood. He was nervous about you coming home for Christmas break, because you'd been apart so long, and he worried that after New York, your small town boyfriend wouldn't be enough for you. But then you were home, and everything was wonderful. You spent so much time together, you could barely keep your hands off him, you had more sex in those four weeks than he'd thought possible."

Lance thought he knew what was coming next, but hearing it still hurt.

"The day before you left, he told me you were so sweet, that you didn't want to talk about the future because he knew you didn't want him to feel like you were pressuring him. But he'd been thinking about it, thinking about how important it was for you two to be together, and he thought it was time, that he could move to New York, maybe play his guitar in some of those hip little places in the village, and hey, there are hundreds of coffee joints in New York, right? And he wanted to tell you all of this, so much, but you kept changing the subject whenever he wanted to talk about the future. Because you didn't want to pressure him, right? And I looked at him, and he was just -- you know how JC looks, when he's really happy? How he just glows? And I looked at him, so fucking happy, and I thought, 'Oh, you beautiful idiot.' And I wanted to be wrong, Lance. More than anything else in the world, I wanted to be wrong about you. And then you left, and the next day, he got that email. After that, he didn't glow, not for a long time. So I guess my question is, how do you think Nick is gonna handle it when you go back to your real life in New York, and you decide that he's not enough for you, either?"

Chris tossed his coffee cup in the trashcan, then looked at Lance. "I'm not saying this to hurt you. I like you, Lance, you're a good guy. But somewhere down the line you decided that taking care of yourself was more important than taking care of the people around you. And that's a valid way to live, but it can get pretty fucking lonely. That's all I'm saying."

Lance sat down on the bench that Chris had just vacated, staring blindly down the street. He wasn't ready to go inside and face his friends. Right now, he just wanted to sit down, and try to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do next.

* * * * *

It didn't take long for Lance to figure out that even if he had known what to do next, he wouldn't have been able to do much anyway. He couldn't call Nick, he couldn't email him, and he certainly couldn't stop by Nick's farm to ask him to discuss their relationship. Or whatever it was that they might have, or be on the verge of having.

The ball was firmly in Nick's court, and Lance, who hated not to be the one in control of a situation, could only sit back and wait to see what Nick would do.

Of course, what Nick was probably going to do was tell Lance that he never wanted to see him again, and then proceed to go live a long and happy life married to a nice Amish girl, and never bother to think about Lance ever again. Maybe it was best to delay the inevitable after all.

After two days of Lance being constantly cranky and on edge, Lance's mom shooed him out of the house, telling him that if he didn't go out and blow of some steam, he was more than welcome to take out his frustrations by clearing out the underbrush on the side of the house. Predictably, Lance fled from the yard work.

Joey was off that afternoon, so the two of them ended up catching a movie at the theatre where he worked. Lance looked around, but didn't spot AJ anywhere. He sat through the movie without even being aware of what was happening on screen, laughing on cue whenever Joey leaned over and whispered a comment. Afterwards they went to the diner to grab some food, and Lance moodily pushed his fries around his plate, making patterns in the ketchup.

He looked up, surprised, when Joey grabbed his wrist. "Okay, dude," Joey said. "Tell me what the hell is going on, because boy are you lousy company today." Joey dropped Lance's hand to swipe some of his fries. "Is this about Nick?"

"What do you mean?" Lance asked cautiously.

Joey rolled his eyes. "C'mon, you're totally sprung on the guy. Which is kinda weird, but hey, whatever makes you happy. But you don't look so happy. He was pretty upset by all that stuff the other night at the coffeehouse, huh?

Lance had gone back inside just long enough to say goodnight to everyone, and he had gathered that AJ had filled in Justin and Joey somewhat, at least enough that they knew that he had once been part of the Amish community and a friend of Nick's. "Yeah, it was pretty rough on him. And then. Well. We kinda kissed."

"Kind of?"

"Okay, we did kiss. Once. Then Nick took off, and I haven't seen him since." Lance sighed. "I know, I know. It's an incredibly bad idea. On so many levels. It's just... I like him, Joe. I really like him."

"Is it even a possibility?" Joey asked. "I mean, I can't imagine that his people would be really thrilled if he took you to the next barn raising, or whatever."

Lance had to smile, remembering Nick's comments on the English perception of barn raisings. "I don't know. I mean, we haven't even talked about it. I don't know what's possible."

"So find out." Joey's voice was gentle. "Find out what your options are, if you even have any. At least then you'll know, right? Just... be careful, okay?"

Lance wondered if he should start keeping a list of people who were warning him. "I know. I don't want to do to him what I did to JC. Believe me, I know."

"Hey," Joey said. "I didn't say that. I meant be careful with you. You try to come off all tough, but I know that your heart is just as breakable as the rest of ours. All right, the situation with C, it sucked, but we've all had breakups that suck. You and C, it was the classic tale of the dreamer and the realist, right? But this thing with Nick... just be sure you know what you're getting into, Lance. Because no matter how hard you're willing to fight for what you want, there just may be too much to fight against here."

"I don't even know where to start. I can't even get in touch with him. Maybe I should just forget the whole thing." Lance stirred his drink moodily.

"He'll find you."

Joey sounded so confident about it, but Lance didn't know how he could be so sure. "How do you know?"

Joey smiled, sneaking another fry off of Lance's place. "Because it wasn't really hard to tell that he's pretty sprung on you, too."

Lance could only hope that Joey was right about that.

They ended up spending the rest of the afternoon at the arcade, and then Lance headed home for dinner with his parents. His mother was relieved to see him in a much better frame of mind.

Afterwards, Lance decided to head over to the pond. He'd gone there the past two nights, hoping that Nick might show up. So far no luck, but after his talk with Joey, Lance wasn't ready to give up quite yet.

He'd brought his own blanket, so he spread it out on the grass and lay down, staring up at the sky. He tried to find the constellations that Nick had shown him, but wasn't sure which cluster of stars was which.

He realized he must have dozed off when he woke up, blinking sleepily as it took him a minute to figure out where he was. He hadn't slept much for the past two nights.

"Did you have a nice nap?" Nick asked, sounding amused, and Lance jumped. Twisting around, he saw Nick sitting cross-legged in the grass, looking at him.

"I. Uh. How long have you been here?" Lance felt groggy and disoriented. He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to straighten it out.

"Just a few minutes. You looked so peaceful that I didn't want to wake you." Nick didn't look like he'd been sleeping much either, from the dark circles under his eyes. He had always looked neat and well put together, no matter how much work they did in the sweltering heat, but tonight his collar was askew, and his blond hair was tangled. He looked like someone who had just lived through a lousy couple of days, too.

"I'm glad you're here," Lance said. "I think we need to talk."

Nick avoided meeting Lance's eyes. "Yes. Yes, I think we do."

Lance wasn't even sure where to start. "The other night... you said that you... that you feel things. For me. I didn't really expect to hear that."

Nick shrugged, still looking down. "It has been a surprise to me as well. It was not something that I had ever considered. It is not something that is done in my world."

"You. Um. You said you had a girlfriend? When you were first doing your rumspringa?" It wasn't until he had gone over the conversation in his head later that Lance had even remembered what Nick had said about AJ letting him and his girlfriend use his bedroom. That made Nick's declaration of feelings for Lance all the more surprising.

Finally, Nick's eyes locked with Lance's. "Her name is Amanda, we had been courting since we were young. She turned 16 a few months before I did, and once I was 16, she very much wanted to have sex." Nick flashed Lance a wry grin. "Not that I objected very much. What 16-year-old boy would, Amish or not? She told me that she had waited for me, though I think now that probably was not true."

"How come?"

"She is not a very... faithful person. When Alex and I got into trouble, and I decided to go back to the plain ways, she was very angry. She told me she would not be with someone so 'boring,' and she implied that she had already been with many other men, and that I did not measure up." Nick's cheeks were a dull red, and Lance felt a flash of rage for this Amanda. How could anyone treat Nick like that?

"And you haven't been, um, courting anyone? Not since then?" Nick had never mentioned a girlfriend, but Lance had a feeling that there were a lot of things about Nick's life he still didn't know or understand.

"I have not. It has attracted notice, our people normally marry quite young, though many of the younger people now are choosing to wait a little longer. My friend Brian is 23, and he will just be getting married this year; that is considered very late."

"So why didn't you date anyone, then? If that's what's expected?" Lance asked.

"Perhaps I was just waiting to find the right person." Nick's voice was so soft Lance could barely hear him.

Tentatively, Lance reached out and covered Nick's hand with his own. "And... have you?"

"Lance." The look in Nick's eyes was so sad. "You know this cannot be. I know that you know this."

"What I know is how I feel about you. I like you, Nick. I like you a lot. And I think that there's something here. I think we'd be really good together."

"I like you, too. So very much. But this... it is not possible." Nick squeezed Lance's hand just once, then stood up. Lance scrambled to his feet, afraid that Nick was going to leave.

He'd told Joey that he just wanted to know what was possible. But faced with the statement that nothing was possible, Lance wasn't ready to accept that.

"You said you'd never felt like this before. Did you mean... about a boy?" He wasn't sure if Nick was gay, or bi, or exactly how Nick would classify himself. But he was pretty sure that Nick had never fallen for a guy before Lance, and that it was probably confusing the hell out of him.

Nick's blush deepened. "No. It wasn't something I would have even considered. But I always felt... different. Like I somehow did not belong."

Lance wanted to step closer to Nick, but he was afraid to scare him away. "Being different isn't anything to be ashamed of."

"That is easy for you to say." Nick laughed, a short harsh sound. "In your world, you are encouraged to explore your differences, to treasure what is unique about yourself. In mine, obedience is valued above all else. Obedience to our laws, to our God, to our traditions. I always bowed to expectations, but inwardly, I struggled greatly. There was much about the English life that I found appealing. Your music, your literature. The freedom you have to discover who you want to become." He walked over to the pond, bending over to pick up some flat stones, and skimming them across the surface as he talked.

"My friend Brian, I have always admired his sense of purpose. He did his rumspringa, because we must, but it was very short and uneventful. He knows what he wants, he always has. He dreams of being a minister in our church, of helping to lead others on God's path. I have never felt that kind of certainty about anything."

As Nick had been tossing the rocks, Lance had dared to move closer. Now, Nick turned to look right at him, and Lance realized Nick had known he was there the whole time. Nick tentatively reached out a hand, brushing it lightly across Lance's cheek. "Except now. Now I am certain of how I feel about you. But I am just as certain that there is no way to have it."

And Lance felt a surge of hope, because if Nick wanted it too, then there was something to fight for. All he had to do was convince Nick that it really was possible. He hadn't spent four years on the debate team for nothing.

"Anything's possible, Nick, if we want it enough. If we're willing to work for it."

Nick shook his head. "Not this. You know very little about my world, but you must know that of all things, this is something that cannot fit."

Lance set his mouth in a stubborn line. "I know that you told me that during rumspringa some Amish people date the English."

"Amish boys who date English girls, Lance. Or Amish girls date English boys. Do not be deliberately obtuse. I told you. You cannot be gay, and be Amish. It is not permissible." Nick's voice was sharp.

Lance reached out and grabbed Nick around the waist, pulling him close. "But isn't that what rumspringa is supposed to be all about? That this is when you are allowed to do all those things that aren't 'permissible' once you're an adult?"

Nick was flustered, but he didn't pull away. "That is not... I don't think anyone ever has...."

He leaned in close to Nick's face, their lips just inches apart. "Does it matter what everyone else has done? How about what we do? What we want to do?"

Nick just stared at him, wide eyed, frozen. Lance did the only thing he could think of, the thing that had gotten in them into all this trouble in the first place. He kissed Nick.

This wasn't anything like the tentative kiss they had shared the other night. Lance poured everything he had into this kiss, trying to show Nick exactly what he'd be missing, exactly what he'd be giving up. He tightened his arms around Nick, and felt Nick's arms twine around his neck, Nick's fingers tangled in his hair.

Nick kissed him back, hard and desperate, and Lance let out a sound that was a half gasp, half moan. He yanked at Nick's shirt until it came untucked from his pants, then slid his hands up the smooth, hot skin of Nick's back, while their mouths continued to devour each other.

When they pulled apart, they were both breathing hard.

"There's so much I want to show you, Nick. So much about my world that is beautiful and exciting that I want you to see. And so much about yours that I want to learn." Lance kept stroking Nick's back, his voice low and persuasive. He leaned forward and nipped at Nick's mouth, his tongue tracing across Nick's lower lip.

"I will not take you to a barn raising," Nick warned, his voice seeming to waver between laughter and tears. "And we will have to be very, very careful with my people. They will not understand."

Right then, Lance would have agreed to anything, he was so happy. "We'll understand. That's what's important."

It wouldn't be quite that easy. He knew that. But for this moment in time, it was just Lance and Nick, and nothing could be simpler and more basic than that.

He pulled Nick over to the blanket, and tugged him down beside him. Nick looked a little apprehensive, as if he was expecting Lance to strip and ravish him right then. And that idea did have a lot going for it, really, but Lance knew that this was too important to rush.

Taking a steadying breath, he leaned back, pulling Nick flush against him, nuzzling at the sort hair at the nape of Nick's neck. He settled them down so they were lying curled together.

"I want you to tell me more about your stars," Lance whispered into Nick's ear, gratified when Nick shivered at the low, sexy tones and the warmth of his breath. "Show me what you see."

Nick turned his head, just enough so that he could look deeply into Lance's eyes. "Right now, I can't see anything brighter than you, Mein seelich." He kissed Lance deeply. "My blessed gift," he added, translating the phrase for Lance.

Seelich. Lance would remember that one. Because he had never felt more blessed than right now, cuddled together with Nick, under the stars.

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Author's Note: My third year participating in SeSa, written for Don We Now Our Gay Apparel in 2003. I was pretty terrified when I saw that my recipient was Susie, because I love her stories so much. This story absolutely could not have been written without Alicia and Georgina, who held my hand and encouraged me every step of the way, even (especially?) when they were using threats as motivational tactics!