Date: Sun, 26 Nov 2000 09:32:16 -0000
From: Brian B <freestylecheese@hotmail.com>
Subject: Calling Into The Mist Part 1

Authors Note: Well, this is my first attempt at writing something that
kinda resembles a story. I hope you guys enjoy it, and any feedback would
be greatly appreciated. This story is most absolutely not autobiographical,
but I hope that it can somehow echo some of how I feel. I hope it can
resonate with you as well. Send and comments to freestylecheese@hotmail.com
thanks.

DISCLAIMER: This story was written in order to entertain you for a few
minutes, and if you are easily offended I wouldn't read it. Even if there
isn't any "action" per say yet, be over 18 to read this. COOL.


	My name is Kyle, I am 18, a senior in High School in Colorado, and
I don't know much, but there is one thing that I do know. I know this as
deep and as true as anything can be known, and that is that the one thing I
am terrified of, the one thing that keeps me up at nights, and the one
thing that I always feel no matter where I am, or what I am doing is a
fear, . . . of being alone forever. It is not easy for me being in High
School by any means, and whenever I am around someone I feel like I am the
grandest actor on the largest stage, feeling what my audience wants, and
giving them whatever they expect in order to keep myself from failing, and
everyone finding out that I am not worth their time. And it doesn't help
that I am different than everyone, that its not natural for me to leer at
women, and comment on the size of their breasts, and I am the only one that
knows that if I fuck it up, I will be the one that is discovered as a fag,
a homosexual, the "dirtiest" thing/name/whatever that anyone can call me in
this bass ackward town. But fuck them, I am better than them, and I can
rise above their shit, because I must, and one day, if I keep my secrets
well enough to get out of this town, I can ditch this fake persona I must
adopt, and become who I really am, and not be in risk of being alone.

	The morning light filtered through Kyle's window, softly covering
his face, and slowly pulling him out of the stupor the was in, the stupor
called sleep. The day was just beginning, and Kyle's eyes began to flutter
open, only to jerk into full awareness as his alarm clock began blaring,
loudly beeping, forcing Kyle to catapult himself from bed in order to stop
the loud ring of the alarm clock before it woke up everyone in his house.
As he flew across the room, he managed to shut of the alarm before anything
but a minor shift of awareness had happened anywhere but in his room. He
reflected that this was the problem that was faced when one is forced to
take physics early morning, and Kyle wasn't looking forward to the trip to
school, and facing Mrs. Moore his physics teacher.

	As he descended the stairs he noticed a note sitting at the bottom,
waiting for his attention in the most obvious spot that could have been
left:

Hey Sweetie:

	Morning, I hope you slept well last night. Your father and I got a
call late last night, asking us to fly up to New York for a conference your
fathers partner couldn't attend. We had to go, and we have already arranged
for your brothers to stay at your Grandma's house, but we need you to stay
at home and take care of the animals. The conference shouldn't last more
than three days, and we will be getting back into town sometime Monday. I
hope you'll be alright in the house all by yourself.

				Love,
					Mom

	Gotta love it when they do this Kyle thought to himself, as he
turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs into the Kitchen in order to
make himself some Raisin Nut Bran and Orange Juice, both a requirement to
even consider going to Physics this early in the morning. As Kyle sat at
the table, sipping his Orange Juice, his listened to the sound of the
house; the house, which was usually shifting and groaning was unusually
silent this morning. As he listened he heard the sound of ...  nothing.
Emptiness, and Kyle began to slowly start to worry. How could this be
happening, how could this be true, why wasn't there any sound, something
should be happening where is everyone my brothers couldn't of left
withouttellingmeIdon'tseewhereeveryoneis. Kyle's thoughts began to spiral
in on themselves as he sat at the kitchen table. As Kyle sat, he began
talking to himself, "Kyle pull yourself together. This is nothing, you have
been in the house all by yourself before. Just because no one said good bye
to you is no reason to freak out." As Kyle calmed down he became angry with
himself for even starting to worry. It wasn't like no one was going to come
back now. Rather, he just had some free time, time away from everyone who
has been so annoying recently. By the time he finished his cereal, he was
nothing but ashamed for ever loosing it, and he trudged back up the stairs
in order to begin the arduous process of getting ready for school.
	Forty minutes later, every hair was carefully placed, each article
of clothing was ironed and wrinkle free Kyle walked out the door, and to
his jeep, which he had started earlier, and allowed to warm up sitting in
his driveway. He squealed out of his steep driveway and onto the street
without a second thought. Pulling into his parking spot right in front of
the school, Kyle glanced into the rearview mirror in order to insure he was
still perfectly groomed, the picture of a heterosexual, class president,
projected Valedictorian kinda guy, and he was, as always, as he had to be.

	Dominik had parked his not so perfect car, and was in the process
of walking towards the main doors of the school as he watched Kyle pull up
in his perfect black jeep, reach back into his perfect back seat, and grab
his perfect backpack, look at his perfect features in the mirror, slightly
adjust his perfect hair, climb out his perfect car, which was parked in his
perfect parking spot, glace around, and head toward the front door to turn
in his perfect physics homework, so that the teacher would look at him and
say "perfect".  Dominik on the other hand had none of Kyle's perfect
problems. He was widely disrespected by his teachers, not well liked by his
class mates, and in the only class he was actually good at, physics, he had
to compete with perfect Kyle, and his perfect friends.
	Dominik hated Kyle, he hated him, but in the end, he couldn't hate
Kyle. A few days ago, Dom had been reading his XY magazine (Issue 27:
Skewl), and had found a poem by a guy named John Hersman that described his
feelings for Kyle exactly:

	"In you I See
	 Everything I want to be.

	 You are kind and sweet,
	 And you're even attractive.

	 I don't know if I want to date you- --Or hate you."

	The sick thing was that that was exactly how Dom felt towards Kyle.
Kyle was everything he ever wanted to be. The paradigm of an attractive
preppy, clearly athletic, but not overly athletic, from his groomed hair,
all the way to his cute, small glasses, always ready of course to be
replaced by Oakley prescription sunglasses; that's what happens when your
family has way more money than it needs; Kyle represented every trait that
Dom found attractive, including the one thing that Dom wished for, that he
was normal, and not gay. The only problem with Kyle was that he did
everything perfectly, and of course that he was straight. And as Dom
approached his physics class, he was ready for yet another day of wishing
he could have or be Kyle, all while watching him, and knowing that it could
never happen; he just wasn't perfect enough.
	As Dom pulled closer to Physics he noticed that all around the door
was chaos, and, much to Dom's surprise that chaos was caused by the fact
that Mrs. Moore had posted Mid-Term grades. He pulled up to the door right
at the same time as Kyle, and searched to find his number. When he found
his number Dom followed it over and saw that his grade was currently a
107%. Hell yeah, Dom thought, as he looked down the list of grades, trying
to find the grade higher than his that was the one that always belonged to
Kyle, but as he looked he found no grades higher than his. Rather, he saw
that last thing that he was expecting, Kyle turned around, cussed softly,
and walked away from the door. This is my chance Dom thought as he strolled
quickly off, following Kyle.
	"Hey Kyle, what do you have" Dom called.
	"Dom, what's up. I'll just say it's not a good one, and we can
leave it at that." Kyle responded.
	"Oh, what, did you only get a 99% on this last test, instead of
your usual 100." Dom quickly replied.
	"No, actually, now I only have a 62% in that damn class. So much
for all my parents expectations." Kyle said, not really managing to keep
the bitterness from his voice.
	Dom had no idea what to do, should he be happy, perfect Kyle wasn't
as perfect as he appeared, or, should he respond to the much deeper
problem, and offer his help. "Well Kyle, I am pretty good at this Physics
thing, and if you want some help, I could probably help you get you grade
up."
	"I would really appreciate any help that I could get, when do you
want to get together?"
	"Well, I am really available anytime. Could you do something after
school today?"
	"Uh, Ehh, Yeah, totally. That is if you don't mind studying at my
house, I think my parents are going to call me right after school, so if
you want to we could use my place. I have it to myself so that no one would
disturb us."
	"Sounds great. See ya at your house, where do you live again?"

	Kyle gave him the instructions to his house, and Dom and he agreed
to meet there at 3:30, and study for at least a few hours. Kyle found out
that Dom was having some trouble in English, Kyle's best class, and so they
agreed to exchange tutoring. As Kyle walked off, he thought about Dom. The
boy was fucking cute as hell, his hair was always messed up, and he was
always so sure of himself. Kyle just wanted to run his fingers through
Dom's hair, and kiss Dom; unfortunately, this is Colorado, and a seedbed of
everything that was conservative. But that couldn't stop Kyle from wishing,
if only he was gay. But he wasn't, so Kyle would just have to live with it,
and hope that someday, he would find someone as cute as Dom, but gay, alas,
it wouldn't be today.

					TO BE CONTINUED . . .

Please e-mail me with suggestions at freestylecheese@hotmail.com I would
really appreciate any help.  Thanks, Brian.