Evidence

A young man finds himself in an embarrassing situation. Based on several actual incidents.

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Evidence

Mason and Tom walked into the skate park. It was dusk; 20 minutes before it became too dark to skate. When they’d left 90 minutes ago for dinner, Sebastian was the last one left in the park. The groms had left four hours earlier, taking their annoying scooters with them. The BMXers often stayed a little later, and sometimes the druggies even stayed past dark, but tonight they too had abandoned the park early, despite the warm late-summer weather.

They looked around for their friend but he’d obviously got bored with skating alone and had gone home.

“Maybe he’s on the smoking bench,” Mason said to his brother, gesturing to a pair of small back-to-back half pipes at the far end of the park.

The boys walked towards the double half pipe. It was the last piece of equipment in the park, right on the edge of the woods, and there was a bench abutting the back of one of the pipes. It was a nice quiet place where older skaters often went to chill or smoke cigarettes or pot.

The brothers walked in silence, rounding the corner of the pipe, and there, as Mason had guessed, Sebastian was sitting in his t-shirt and jogging pants, eyes shut, legs spread wide, leaning against the metal back wall of the half pipe. He was red-faced and sweating.

“You okay?” Mason asked.

Sebastian opened his eyes and looked around, clearly startled by their presence.

“Yep, yep, fine, just catching some Zs!”

He closed his knees and his friends noticed him trying to cover something on the tarmac with his feet. They looked down. There were white splats on the black ground, spraying away from him.

Tom frowned, then grinned.

“You been jacking off Seb?”

“What?! No. No way!” Seb said unconvincingly.

“Then why are you sweating?”

“And why is there is there spunk all over the floor in front of you?” Mason added.

Sebastian reddened.

“That’s not spunk, it’s spit.”

“Really?” Mason said unconvinced. “Doesn’t look like spit. It’s not frothy enough. Looks to me like you were bored on your own and you decided to rub one out before you went home.”

“Yeah,” his brother added, “looks like it was a good one.”

Both brothers were grinning now.

“It’s fucking spit!” Seb said aggressively, scarlet-faced with humiliation now.

They all looked at the creamy splats on the floor.

“I’ve never seen you spit before,” Tom pressed with a grin. “Go on spit again now. Prove it.”

“I’m not proving myself to you. Don’t care if you believe me.”

The brothers grinned wider.

Tom said, “Whatever dude. Let’s skate before it gets dark.”

Seb picked up his deck, stood and turned towards the main body of the park.

“Just one thing,” Mason said.

“What now?”

“Why have you got a boner, and why is there spunk coming through your jogging bottoms?”

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