Date: Sun, 6 Oct 2002 18:02:08 -0400 From: thepenartist@thepenartist.com Subject: Everything In-Between - Chapter 1 This Story is Copyright 2002 by The PenArtist (Please Use "The PenArtist" as the author name). *****BEGIN DISCLAIMER***** This story contains subject matter of a homosexual nature between two under-age boys. If this subject matter does not interest you or is illegal to read in your city/state/country, do not continue. The author is not responsible for any consequences arising from the viewing of this story. All rights reserved. This story is fiction. Any resemblence to any person(s), place(s), or thing(s), living or not, is unintended and purely coincidental. *****END DISCLAIMER***** As of yet, this story does not have a title. This is my first submission to Nifty, but not my first story. I have written numerous short stories which I may post in the coming weeks/months. Any comments or CONSTRUCTIVE criticism can be e-mailed to thepenartist@thepenartist.com . Flames and/or blatant useless criticism will be ignored. Everything In-Between - Chapter 1 I am gay. I cannot tell you why I am gay. I certainly cannot tell you when I realized this. Somehow, it has always been there, like a stubborn burr stuck to your best school sweater. I remember being as young as six years old and looking at other boys; wanting to feel their bodies against mine; wanting to touch them. I came out to my parents 3 years ago, when I was 14 years old. The episode rendered itself a lot simpler than I expected. My parents, who pride on being the very definition of liberal, told me that nothing I could say, do, or be could ever change the way they love me. Too bad my town doesn't reflect the attitude of my parents. I live in a small suburban town called Oil Valley. We have about twenty thousand residents, with 90% of them being bible- toting religious conservatives. You can imagine how it feels for a closeted gay boy like me. I'm so anxious to get out of this place that I started buying stuff for college, even though I don't leave for another ten months. In my circle of friends, no one dare mention the word `homosexual' unless it is in an angry, demeaning tone of voice. The captain of the football team being gay would be a bomb twenty times that of Little Boy or Fat Man. Yeah, you heard right. I'm a jock; a very proud jock. Playing football has been a staple in my life since I was 8 years old. The team picked me to be the captain for my final year on the squad. No, I'm not a star quarterback or some gifted wide receiver. I'm a strong safety; the cornerstone of any team's defense. I became a starter on the varsity squad in my second season. Since then, I've broken both the single-game and season interception records. In the state finals last season, I caught four interceptions in two quarters. Even with my performance, we lost that game, 38-17. Ok, so I brag a lot. But with my body, my talent, and my intelligence, I think I earned the right to brag. Some people call me arrogant. Most call me worst than that. Little do they know, the pride of this town is 2 months away from revealing a secret that holds the power to crumble the foundation of this catholic suburb. But, until that day when I accept the award for team MVP, my day is full of routine. The same faces, the same voices, the same schedule, and the same workouts. As I sit here in homeroom, I look around and see the faces of people who don't know the real me. And suddenly, the boy I long for strolls up to my desk. "Hey Mark, can you read over this English paper for me?" said the boy. It didn't strike me as unusual that Corben Joseph Vawter, Corey, for short, was asking for my help. But every time he does, my stomach binds itself into knots, overtaken by a deep yearning for love. Corey is a beautiful specimen, at least in my opinion. He is five-foot-six and weighs about 110 pounds, with a slim waist and broad shoulders like the body of Adonis. His perfect blond hair is parted down the middle and shaped into a bowl. His piercing blue eyes, once hidden by glasses, were now accented by contact lenses. His skin looks baby smooth, as if it had never seen the bite of a mosquito or the scratch of a thorn bush. Oh how I long for the feel of his skin against mine. "Sure thing, Corey. You have Mr. Coleman, don't you?" I responded calmly, keeping my deepest fantasies hidden in the back of my mind. "Yep. I don't think he likes me too much. He always picks on me for stupid mistakes and stuff." "Yeah, that's Mr. Coleman. He does that to everyone, so don't take it to heart." As I read over his paper, Corey was leaning over my desk as if to follow my pen. I could hardly concentrate on correcting his mistakes, instead focusing on his breath lightly caressing my neck. After the first paragraph, I picked up my head and re- adjusted myself, trying hard not to plant a kiss on Corey's lips at that moment. As my eyes glanced back down at the paper, I heard a familiar voice shouting from the door. "Marcus Lee Vernon, why are you always helping the little bitch boy with his work?" the voice shouted sarcastically. The voice belonged to Gary Lebeau, the team quarterback and my best friend of eight years. He is six-foot-one and weighs around 190 pounds. He is as ugly as they come with curly brown hair, brown eyes, and a face marred by acne. His athletic ability is perhaps his only saving grace. "I'll read this over and go over it with you during study hall third period, ok Corey?" I asked, hoping Corey would say yes to some time alone with me. "Ok. Will you be in the library?" "Everyday." Corey nodded his head and walked away with his head down as Gary approached my desk. Corey has been the subject of ridicule by Gary since the beginning of high school. Not wanting to spark questions or curiosity, I did nothing about it. "You all psyched up and ready for the game tonight?" Gary asked, even though he already knew the answer. "I was born ready," I retorted sarcastically. "How many interceptions are you gonna have tonight?" "Hopefully more than the other team gets off of you." We continued like this until the 1st period bell rang. Gary jumped up quickly and started to run, knowing he had a long trek to the other side of the building. As I left the room, I gave Corey a sly smile and acknowledged that I would see him 3rd period.