This is a story of friendship, commitment, love and trust. It is not a sex story. However, this story deals with love between two male teenagers. If you are offended by stories involving love between two teenage boys, please do not read this story. There will be some sex scenes in this story; however, sex is not the main theme. If you are under age 18 or 21 or it is illegal to read this story where you live, don't read it.Reproducing this story for distribution without the owner's permission is a violation of that copyright.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please return your seats to the upright position in preparation for landing," the flight attendant announced.
As I sat there looking out the window my thoughts began to wander. I would be landing in Paris shortly. I got sort of sinking feeling in my stomach when I thought about my parents. I got along fine with them, but over the last six months it seemed like they'd always been traveling off on this business trip or that business trip. That's how come I'm traveling business class to Paris for free. I used my Dad's air mileage for my ticket and luckily we both have the same name, Jason Robert Phillips.
Mom says I look just like my Dad when he was sixteen; I guess I do, we both have brown hair and brown eyes, but I'm only five eight and about 135 pounds. Also I wear my hair long a little over shoulder length. The rents hate it, but I like it; I'm an artist. Dad says I get my artistic abilities from my mother's side of the family.
I chose Paris because I'm an artist and I didn't see any point in going to England, I'd lived there when I was ten one word 'boring'.
I guess I'm a typical artist, I'm moody. I don't think it really has anything to do with being an artist, it's more like I'm confused about myself. I've really noticed my moodiness since my brother died a year ago. We were best friends although we did have our arguments. Arguments always resulted in a duel. We fenced and we were both good at it. My brother had the advantage in size, but I was faster. I missed fencing a lot and my dad is not really any challenge.
My parents gave up sending me to the psychs. What a bunch of loonies and perverts! The last one tried to give me Zyloft and I mentioned to him that if I turned into a murdering teen like the two at Columbine it would be all his fault and I would be writing a note to the newspapers blaming him for any murders I commit. I told him he could take his drug dealing elsewhere. Would you believe he made the mistake of telling my parents that I should be committed which was exactly what I told them he'd do so he could force the drugs on me and still get paid? If they think I have a behavior dis-order, they should checkout the nurses in the mental institutions!
I wonder if they're going to freak out or what when they discover I've left. I looked at my watch which was still set to eastern time; they'll be landing at home in about half an hour.
The plane landed.
I'm here and a new adventure starts. I hope this change will change me, I don't want to be the same; I want to be different. I'm tried of these feelings I get. Well, this is a new episode.
I reasserted to myself, " I am glad I am totally hetero. I hate queers!"
to be continued...
|Well, dude's that's it for this first short chapter. I apologise for any errors, but I just started writing this story and don't have an editor - any volunteers? Later, wf|