DISCLAIMER: Glacier Bay Stories is a work of fiction and all principal characters are the result of my diseased mind. Though the stories might be based on fact everything contained in these pages have been endorsed or blessed by those who gave them to me. While Glacier Bay is patterned after Juneau, Alaska, it is not a definitive description of said town nor its inhabitants. I have nothing but found memories of my late childhood there and I hope that you become to enjoy this sleepy little town as I do.

Glacier Bay Stories is copyrighted and any use of said name without permission is punishable by law. Do not remove from Nifty without first obtaining permission from the author.

If not for that tragic for years I would not be the man I am today. The pain, the joy, the heartache defines me and begs me on till morning. Set your sight on the stars and your dreams will be realized...FireAngel

Luckily Skaters Cabin was located out in the middle of nowhere. The noise coming from the small cabin was deafening as the fifty or so teenagers yelled and screamed around the bonfire that was roaring in the middle of the clearing. Music blasted from someone's car and a group of boys were dancing around the flames drunkenly. At the moment the Doors sang about lighting my fire and everyone was singing along loudly. More than a few couples had drifted away to find some privacy and the sounds of their coupling drifted around the clearing. Leaving nothing to the imagination of the few unlucky ones that had to listen to it.

Jesse swayed slightly as he walked over to the pile of coolers. Since most of them were empty except for ice water, it took him a moment to find two beers. For the most part everyone knew it was the last weekend before school and they were taking advantage of it. With the exception of the Basil twins, everyone was pretty much drunk.

Jesse walked over to Greg's truck and climb inside the bed. Greg greeted him with a smile and held his hand out. Jesse handed him the beer before leaning back against the cab of the truck next to his friend. Tucking his hair behind his ears, he opened the can and drank deeply.

"What time is it?" Greg asked, his words slurring almost intelligibly.

Jesse shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Who fucking cares?"

Greg took a long drink and sighed loudly. He had already thrown up twice and he finally had reached the point where he wouldn't be doing it again. "Have you seen Matt lately?"

"Last time I saw him he was sneaking off with Becky." Jesse giggled.

"You go boy." Greg stated as he held up his beer. "To Matt. May he get a rash on his balls."

"To Matt." Jesse laughed.

The two boys jumped when Dave jumped into the bed with them. His bare chest glowing in the darkness like a beacon. Greg asked, "Where the fuck is your shirt?"

"Traci has it." Dave replied, taking a drink from Jesse's beer.

"And why does she have your shirt?" Jesse asked, frowning as Dave handed him back his beer. The bastard had drunk most of it and only left a swallow in the bottom.

"She puked on hers." Dave replied flippantly. Making himself comfortable against the side of the truck, he asked, "Do either one of you have a coat I can borrow? It's really getting chilly."

Jesse shook his head, "Sorry. Why don't you ask Traci to keep you warm?"

"I did."

Laughing loudly, Greg teased, "Oh, is little Davie sleeping alone tonight?"

"As a matter of fact. Yes." Dave replied, rubbing his stomach absently.

"She won't put out huh." Jesse stated, for some reason finding that funny in his condition.

"Oh she puts out. I just won't be the lucky one tonight." Dave snorted loudly. Yelling loudly up at the sky, he said, "Fuck you Tyson."

Greg and Jesse looked at each at other and broke out laughing. Dave gave them a glare and complained, "Can you believe that asshole? I turn my back for one second and she goes with him."

"Maybe you can borrow Tyson's jacket since he won't be needing it?" Greg offered with a grin.

"And you could always ask to join in." Jesse said encouragingly.

"Fuck you both." Dave said as he stood up and jumped from the bed.

"What'd I say?" Jesse called out after him. Looking at Greg, he asked, "I don't understand it."

"That's okay." Greg said sarcastically, patting the brunet's knee lightly. "We don't expect you to understand anything."

"Ha, ha, ha." Jesse said dryly, throwing his beer over into the woods. "Do you have any left?"

"Get your own." Greg stated, holding his beer high into the air.

Jesse lunged for the beer saying, "I did. I got that one remember."

Laughing, Greg pushed at him with one hand, keeping the can just out of reach. Jesse leaned over in an attempt to grab it, his weight resting on his left hand that just happened to be between Greg's legs. For a moment they struggled good-naturedly until Jesse realized that he was practically lying on Greg. Suddenly his face turned bright red and he moved off quickly. He went as far away as he could, his back resting against the side of the truck.

Mumbling out, "I'm sorry."

Greg gave him a smile and asked, "For what?"

Jesse looked at him, a mask of confusion on his face. Tucking his brown hair behind his ears again, he said softly, "Huh?"

"You said you were sorry." Greg said through a burp. "So I asked why you were sorry."

"I'm getting another beer." Jesse stated suddenly, wanting to drop that line of questioning. "Do you want another one?"

"No. I don't think so." Greg replied as he threw his empty can into the trees. "But thanks anyway."

"You're welcome." Jesse said, jumping on the ground and walking away.

Greg only smiled and moved down till he was lying on his back. Putting his hands under his head, he gazed up at the stars, a dreamy expression on his face. The moon was bright and the stars seemed to be dancing across the sky. Sighing loudly, he wondered if Jesse had that sinking feeling in his stomach as well.

He had done everything in his power to stay away from the brunet. From the moment he met Jesse, the longhaired boy captivated his thoughts. At first he shrugged off the feelings. Convincing himself that it was only friendship he felt. But as time wore on, he found himself thinking about the brunet more and more. When him and Melissa would do things together, his mind ultimately drifted back to Jesse. During the movies they watched, he would wonder what Jesse would think about the movie or what he was doing. Then it got worse, when he kissed her, all he could think about was "his" lips.

Looking back, he really did try everything to keep away from him. But the more he ignored his friend, the more he thought about him. Finally he accepted the fact that he was thoroughly lusting after his friend. When he realized that, he broke it off with Melissa. Since that time, he had gradually gotten to know the closed mouth boy. One of his fondest memories was the night they had stayed up talking on some porch while everyone else slept.

As he lay in the bed of his truck, the blonde shifted through the small amount of information he knew about his friend. Jesse was an only child whose family moved to Glacier Bay two years before. He suddenly realized that he didn't even know where they moved from. Getting Jesse to talk about his family was like talking to a wall. The only thing Jesse hinted about that wherever he moved from, he had gotten into a lot of trouble there and his family moved here to get away from it.

In all the time he had known him, he had never once met Jesse's parents. Jesse always met them somewhere and the only way Greg knew where the brunet lived was one night he followed him home. From the house, Greg knew that his family was well off. And one thing he always that weird was the boy didn't have his own car. From what he gathered, his parents refused to buy him one.

That only fueled his desire to get to know the mysterious boy better. Something about the way he carried himself, like he was above the rest of the crowd. And it wasn't as much arrogance as a self-assured demeanor that oozed from every pore of his being. Like he knew something no one else knew and he was secretly laughing at the world's blind attempt of existing.

"Strange thought." He muttered aloud, rubbing his nose vigorously.

"Are you talking to yourself again?" Jesse asked with a grin as he jumped up in the bed of the truck.

"Just thinking smuck boy." Greg replied flippantly.

Jesse settled down at Greg's feet, his long legs tucked under his body. Saying, "You know what they say about blondes and thinking don't you?"

"You are so fucking funny." Greg stated sarcastically, giving his friend the one finger salute. He did notice the music had changed to a soft melody, some raspy voice woman crooning about someone being like a pill. He didn't know who it was but he tapped his foot along.

"It's a gift." Jesse said dryly, opening his beer in the process. Taking a long drink, he burped loudly. "Ah, that's good shit."

Greg's head was already spinning, a feeling of euphoria threatening to sweep him away. And when Jesse pulled out a fat joint, he groaned loudly. That was the last thing he needed.

Jesse offered the joint to him and shrugged when the blonde declined. Lighting the end, he breathed deeply. For a few minutes Greg let his drunken mind wander to the beat of the music. Completely surrendering all control to the alcohol, basking in the buzz.

Suddenly it hit him, leaning on his elbows, he asked, "Where's Dwayne?"

Jesse looked at him with a blank stare. Barely able to think coherently, finally the question sunk in. Shrugging his shoulders, he replied, "I don't know. Haven't seen him in hours."

Greg sat up and looked over towards the fire. Scanning the twenty kids that were left, he didn't see his tall lanky friend anywhere. Then he turned his attention to the cars that were parked around him. "His truck's gone."

"I wonder where he went." Jesse mused out loud, a dopey grin on his face.

"Maybe he got lucky." Greg offered, lying back down.

"Lucky him." Jesse said softly.

Greg let the comment pass. He was already shocked that Jesse hadn't found his own little tart for the night. It was quite unusual for the brunet to fly solo, especially at a party. He didn't give it too much thought though he was enjoying himself. It didn't happen often and he wasn't going to bitch about it when it did.

Looking up, he saw Jesse staring at him. With one eyebrow raised, he asked, "What?"

It might have been a trick of the light, but he could have sworn that Jesse blushed. But the brunet turned his head before he could be sure.

Jesse stammered out, "Nothing. I'm really fucked up."

"Really. You could've fooled me." Greg teased, kicking him in the leg.

"That's not hard to do is it?" Jesse said, looking at his friend again, a small smile played across his lips.

"You know." Greg said, sitting up Indian style. "You really need to get some new material. All these blonde references are getting stale."

The brunet opened his mouth as if to speak but then closed it again. He had a look of confusion on his face and for the first time, Greg saw something else in his eyes, fear was there.

An idea began forming in the blonde's head, growing as he turned it over in his mind. Maybe it was beer talking or just wishful thinking, but in his drunken state, he saw everything clearly. The playful jabs that Jesse gave him, more than the other guys received. When they were in a crowd, Jesse was always next to him. In a restaurant, Jesse always sat next to him, no matter who was there. And then earlier at his house, Jesse wrestling with him, then getting embarrassed. A hundred little things fell into place. He cursed himself for not noticing it sooner. He recognized the look he was getting from Jesse, cause it was the same look he had been giving.

Smiling broadly, Greg crawled over to Jesse till he was right in front of the brunet. Jesse had a surprised look in his eyes but he didn't back away. Greg looked at him and said softly, "I know Jesse."

"What do you know?" Jesse asked, trembling visibly. His half empty beer forgotten in his hands.

Yelling from around the fire caught they're attention. They both looked over to see two kids pushing and yelling at each other. The rest of the crowd had surrounded them and were egging them on. Greg recognized Dave immediately, he still hadn't found a shirt and his bare chest gleamed in the firelight. The other boy was Lee Nelson, the star running back of the Glacier Bay Tigers.

Lee was big, just over six-foot tall, two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle. It was surprising to see one of the most popular kids at Skaters Cabin; normally they avoided the place like the plague. And as they ran over to the fire, they soon found out the reason.

The girl that Dave had invited to the party was Lee's ex-girlfriend. And the big football player was looking to kick his ass. Not only did the huge boy tower above Dave, but also out weighed him by seventy pounds.

Then Matt was there in the firelight, standing shirtless in front of his friend, his boots untied. "What the fuck do you think you're doing Nelson?" He shot out.

"This doesn't concern you Matt." Lee said angrily, glaring at Dave behind him.

"No. Dave's my friend. So anything you have to say to him you can say to me." Matt slurred loudly, flexing his hands dramatically.

"I'm not looking for any trouble with you." Lee stated.

"If you're not looking for any trouble then why don't you leave." Matt said, his face just inches from the bigger boy.

Then Lee tried to push the smaller man out of his way. Jesse shook his head and muttered, "You really shouldn't do that."

Matt's hand shot up, cracking the boy in the nose. Blood spurted everywhere as Matt hit him again. Lee dropped down on one knee, holding his broken nose in his hands. "Your dead Garrison." He spat.

"I don't think so." Matt stated flatly, kicking the boy full in the chest. "You're nothing without your buddies anyway."

Lee struggled to his feet, anger flashing in his eyes. "This ain't over." He warned as he backed away. "Not by a long shot."

Matt waved at him and asked, "Dave, are you okay?"

Dave was shaken up but otherwise unhurt. He replied, "I'm good. Thank Matt."

Matt's only reply was; "I hate jocks."

Becky came over to Matt all wide eyed, but the look in her eyes told Jesse that Matt was going to get some extra special loving tonight. She led him back towards the trees and the crowd cheered as they disappeared into the woods.

"Good little fight." Jesse commented, walking over to Dave.

"You would think so." Greg muttered. Looking at Dave, he smiled, "Nothing like getting your ass kicked for no reason. He should've been after Tyson."

"I know." Dave said with a grin. "And we should've let him kick Tyson's fat ass too."

Throwing his arm around the youths shoulders, Greg led him back towards his truck, "Wouldn't work. Matt still would've jumped in. You know how much he likes to fight."

"But it would've fun to watch." Dave said with a sigh.

Jesse followed the pair but not before grabbing three more beers from the coolers. The crowd had broken off into small groups after the fight, many retelling the story and laughing at the jock as he limped away.

Jesse climbed into the truck and said, "You know he'll be looking for you all year."

"I know." Dave said with a shrug. "But I'll have all you backing me up."

Jesse laughed and handed him a beer. With all the adrenaline pumping through is veins, Greg felt way to sober so he took the offered beer. After toasting, the three settled down in the bed of the truck. Greg did notice that Jesse was sitting next to him again. A small smile crept on his face. Yep, this had turned out to be one interesting night.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ryan James sat in front of his computer, his head bobbing to the sound blaring through the headphones. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he lost himself in the fictional world he created.

As far back as he could remember, he had wanted to be a writer. As a small boy, he would entertain his family with short stories that he wrote. Most of the stories had a running theme where he was the hero and he always ended up saving something. Mostly animals but once he even saved the family vacation from the evil men who stole all the airplane tickets.

His family encouraged his hobby. Even going as far as making up small booklets for the family to buy at reunions. He could remember the first time someone paid him money for a story. It was his grandfather and he got five dollars for a three-page booklet. He could remember being so proud that he was finally an author.

As he got older, his stories started changing as well. Gone were the innocent tales of his early childhood. Right around puberty, his stories started getting an element of horror in them. Shortly after he discovered Stephen King's work. So obsessed was he with the master of macabre, he started wearing glasses so he could be like his hero.

His parents took this new obsession in stride. He wasn't hurting anyone and it was harmless enough. Then suddenly his parents stopped getting new things to read. They figured he had grown out of his hobby as he began to excel in football. And the notion that he would grow up to be a famous author fell by the wayside.

As he reached high school and his athletic ability started to shine, his parents had a new dream to embrace. And he did spend most of his time playing football. Only in his junior year, he had broken all the school's records for a receiver. Along with the quarterback, Bret Fahey, he was one of the most popular kids in school. Together they made and unbeatable team that led their school to the state championship game last year. Though they lost in the final seconds of the game, the general thought was this was the year they would go all the way.

And he loved playing football; the freedom he felt on the field was unparalleled to anything. Anything except for writing. Though his parents didn't know, he had never lost his love for writing. And every waking moment he wasn't playing football, he was locked in his room typing furiously on his computer.

Everyone consider him to be another jock. His grades were average, maybe a bit higher than average but nothing to get excited about. He had trouble concentrating during school and passing was a real challenge for him. He had long ago accepted that he would never be a scholar and he was perfectly fine with that. After all, he loved playing football and any other sport.

He was extremely popular, just one step down from Bret. But that was to be expected, the quarterback is always the popular one. He had lots of friends, everyone knew him. The parents loved him, the teachers encouraged him and the coach praised him. What more could an All-American boy ask for.

He had his pick of the girls, sometimes a different one every week. Though he never got too serious with any of them. Long ago he had mapped out a plan for his life and it didn't include a high school sweetheart. No, girls only distract you. He had to keep his eye firmly fixed on his goal.

He was an only child. Had great parents who loved him. A possible scholarship for playing football. Charisma, charm, good looks, the whole package. At least until he got back from his summer vacation.

For years he had been spending every other summer at his cousin's house. Then the next summer his cousin would stay with him. And so one and so on. They were extremely close, both being an only child. It gave them the semblance of being brothers.

It was always the highlight of his life when it was his turn to go to his cousin's house. Orlando was so different than Glacier Bay and the older he got, the more he realized just how different. They would spend hours just walking downtown. Looking at all the museums and art gallery's that littered the area. Drinking in the diverse culture that is Orlando, he always felt refreshed after a summer there.

Daniel had always been somewhat of a loner. The direct opposite of popularity that Ryan knew. Daniel wore weird clothing, well weird to Glacier Bay that is. But this year, Daniel had become even stranger.

He adopted the whole gothic look. Black clothes and ripped or see through shirts. He started wearing spiked collars and makeup. His music tastes changed and he started listening to underground punk bands. To Ryan, who had always lacked an identity, this intrigued him.

As was his custom, he saved all his money every year for shopping and fun in Orlando. It was always nice to buy clothes that you couldn't find in Glacier Bay. By the end of the summer, he had acquired a complete new wardrobe.

In a back alley, they had found a place that would pierce anything you wanted without having parent's permission. He walked out of the place with two eyebrow rings; one above each eye, a lip ring and ear rings in both ears. To complete the look, he dyed his brown hair a deep raven black with a red streak just over his left ear. It fell in his eyes slightly, giving him an uncombed look that was popular in Orlando.

When he walked off the plane, his parents didn't recognize him at first. His father shook his head and choose to ignore the new look while his mother broke down and cried. She kept asked what happened to him in Florida. She couldn't understand that he did that to himself on purpose. For the first time in his life, he felt uncomfortable around his parents. So the minute he got home he rushed to his room and stayed there all night.

It wasn't like he had gotten a tattoo or anything. Though he did try but he couldn't find a place to give him one. And he knew he should've told them what to expect and most of the arguments were out of shock than real anger. But he figured he'd let them chill out for a day or so before explaining himself to them.

The moment he walked into his room, it all hit him. From the football posters on his wall to the skimpy women in bathing suits, he hated everything he was before. Most of the day he spent ripping it all down. Trying to remove all traces of his former self. When he was satisfied, he sat down at his computer and started typing.

At first he didn't realize what he was writing. But as the story unfolded, he knew it was his way to explain to his parents why he changed his look. He held nothing back, his insecurities, his fears, his dreams, everything laid out on the page for them to see. After he was finished, he printed it off and walked into the kitchen.

Placing the twenty pages on the table, he grabbed a sandwich before going back to his room. By the time he woke up in the morning, both of them would've read it and then they could talk about it. When he finished his sandwich, he turned off the light and went to bed feeling better than he had in a long time.

The next morning he was rudely woken up by a small body jumping up and down on top of him, screaming at the top of his lungs for him to get out of bed.

"Ry's home. Ry's home." The little boy was chanting as he bounced unmercifully on his older brother's stomach.

"What are you doing you little gremlin?" Ryan stated, pretending to be angry as he grabbed his ten-year-old brother roughly. Bringing the boy into a bear hug.

"You trying to kill me?" Ryan asked, tickling his brother.

Between giggles and squeals, Bryan squirmed, trying to break the hold his brother had on him. "Stop it Ry. I'm going to piss on you." The little boy warned, giggling like a madman.

"If you do I'll tie a rubber band around your little dick and the next time you try to piss it'll fall off and you won't be able to piss again ever." He threatened angrily, throwing his brother across the bed.

The little boy looked at him with wild eyes, trying to figure out if his brother would really do that to him. Ryan laughed and lay back down, pushing his brother roughly.

Bryan giggled some more but he wiggled his way under the covers and wrapped his arms around his brother and put his head on his chest saying, "I'm glad you're home Ry. I missed you."

"I missed you too gremlin." Ryan said truthfully, kissing the boy's soft curls.

It never ceased to amaze him. How someone so small could love so unconditionally and without reservation. Any time he had a bad day, all he had to do was hold his brother and everything fell away. Just the knowledge that he was loved so beautifully got him through more than a few days.

Bryan looked up and him and suddenly saw the piercing and the new hairdo. His brown eyes widening in confusion. With one small hand, he reached out and lightly touched the ring through the older boy's lip. In a scared voice he asked, "What happened Ry? Did it hurt?"

Smiling warmly, Ryan answered, "Nothing happened and no it didn't hurt." Then lowering his voice, he added, "Much."

"What happened to your hair?" The little boy asked, sitting up to get a better look at his brother.

"I colored it." He replied. "Don't you like it?"

Touching the red streak, the boy shook his head; "I don't think so. You don't look like you anymore. You look weird."

Grabbing the boy again, he stated, "And you stink. Get out of my bed." He tossed the boy off the bed, hearing more giggles as his brother landed on the floor with a thud.

Knowing that his sleep was lost, Ryan threw off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. Whether he wanted to be up or not, the little gremlin wouldn't let him go back to bed. Besides, he missed the little terror more than he realized.

Bryan latched on his legs as he tried to walk across the room, giggling the whole time. Ryan couldn't help but laugh as he dragged his brother towards the bathroom saying loudly, "I wonder what's wrong with my leg."

As he walked into the hall, his mom was carrying a basket full of laundry. Her face broke out in a big grin as she saw her boys playing. As she passed them, she asked, "What's that on your leg Ryan?"

"I don't know." He replied, shaking his leg vigorously. "But it smells and looks like a gremlin."

Bryan let go and said through laughter, "It's me."

Bending over, he ruffled the soft curls and said, "I wonder where you got off too."

His mother smiled at him and offered, "I'm sorry. But it was all I could do to keep him out of there this long."

"It's okay. I wanted to see him anyway." Ryan replied, noticing the way she had her lips pressed tightly together. Once again feeling the space between them widened. Knowing it would be a while before things returned to normal again.

He smiled and disappeared into the bathroom. After relieving himself, he turned the water on and let it heat up. Using the time to brush his teeth, he stared at his reflection. The piercings had all but healed, the redness fading along with the swelling. Placing his toothbrush back in the container, he patiently turned all the rings and cleaned them thoroughly before stripping. Sighing loudly as the steaming water bite into his flesh, he leaned against the shower wall. For a few minutes he let the hot water massage his sore muscles, letting his mind wander.

As he started cleaning his body, he wondered what the reception at school would be like. What would his football friends have to say about his new look? Would they accept it? Would they be indifferent? Would they mark him an outcast? Resolving not to worry about it, he reached for the shampoo. After washing his hair and conditioning it twice, he quickly dried off.

After styling his hair somewhat, he wrapped the still damp towel around his waist and opened the door. His little brother was standing there, a frown on his face. "Took you long enough."

"Unlike you." He teased. "I like to stay clean."

"I took a bath just last night." The little boy argued as he followed his brother into his room. "I don't get smelly like you do."

"Oh no." Ryan called over his shoulder. "What about the time you fell in the litter box? As I recall you smelled pretty bad after that."

The little boy's nose scrunched up, "Maybe that one time."

Opening his dresser, he pulled out a pair of boxer briefs. Throwing his wet towel over his brother's head, he quickly put them on.

"Ewe, that's gross." Bryan yelled out, throwing the towel on the floor.

Smiling, Ryan pulled on a pair of shorts. Walking over to his closet, he put on the first shirt he grabbed. Facing his brother, he asked, "Is breakfast ready?"

"I ate hours ago." The little boy answered, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Then you can watch me eat." Ryan yelled, picking up his brother and throwing him over his shoulder. With his burden firmly in his grasp, Ryan walked downstairs and into the kitchen.

His dad was sitting at the kitchen table reading the Sunday newspaper, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. His dad looked up and smiled at his son. "Good morning. How'd ya sleep?"

Putting his brother down in one of the chairs, he answered, "Like a baby. That is until this baby jumped on my head and woke me up."

Bryan beamed proudly at his dad, a grin splitting his face. "I scared him just like you said I would."

Ryan gave his dad a good-natured glare, plopping down next to him, automatically searching for the Sunday funnies.

His mother asked, "Are you hungry?"

"I could eat a horse." Ryan answered as he flipped through the newspaper.

"Eggs okay?" She asked, her head stuck in the fridge.

"Perfect." Came the reply. Finally he gave up on finding the funnies and asked his dad, "So. Anything happen while I was away?"

His dad stopped reading the paper and said, "Nothing much. Except one of my boys came back from vacation looking like a freak."

His mom muttered something as the butter container crashed to the floor.

He looked up at his dad, a biting remark on his lips. When he saw the grin on his father's face, his anger melted away. "A freak huh?" He asked, a small smile on his face.

"Yep. But that's to be expected. After all, he has freaks for parents. It was just a matter of time." His dad replied, winking at him.

Ryan's head snapped around, looking for the paper he placed on the table last night. There it was, in the same place he left it. They hadn't read it yet. Suddenly he didn't want them to read it. The things contained in those pages frightened him.

"Dear." His mom said, turning to face her husband. Through a grin, she demanded, "I told you not to tell him. After all, we still have one normal person in this family."

He looked first at his mother than back at his father. From the yelling of the previous night, he was prepared for something different. The last thing he expected was them joking about it. He stood up and grabbed the sheets, holding them protectively to his chest. His father glanced at him, his eyebrows raised, as if to say what's that.

Shrugging his shoulders, he raced back to his room. Hiding the story in his backpack, he stood in the center of his room. What was going on? Not only did they accept him, but also acted like nothing happened. From out of nowhere, his heart filled with love, so much that he felt he could burst. As he walked back downstairs, he knew that no matter what happened, everything would be okay. Cause he still had the love of his parents and nothing could take that away.

To Be Continued

Copyright©2002 Burning Angel