Date: Tue, 14 Aug 2001 18:40:22 -0400 From: W.B. Harrell Subject: In the Arms of An Angel 1 In the Arms of An Angel Chapter 1 By: W.B. Harrell Disclaimer: You know the drill, if this stuff is illiegal where you are from, don't read it. (don't get caught) If this stuff offends you, don't read it. (what are you here for anyway?) If you are under 18, don't read it. (don't forget to clear your history kiddos, your mom finding your secret porn cache is one hell of a way to come out.) Also, if you are here for a quick wanky, don't expect anything to invigorating. Young love is the main subjectline of this story (with *some* sex in later chapters). And, gee, if ya haven't figured this out by now, this story is under the "high school" section of nifty, so you have to assume that there is sex among minors. If you have made it this far, read on, I won't be able to stop you anyway. Enjoy. P.S. Comments, Critiques, and Flames are accepted and encouraged, an author needs feedback. Tips needed. E-mail me at wbharrell@hotmail.com---subject Arms of Angel please don't abuse my e-mail or I will not hesitate to change it and stop accepting e-mails from you guys, I hate to be so serious, but that happened to my best friend Cyan at a message board. I know (hope) I can trust you guys! Dedication: Zarah, read her series Just to Be With You and If That's What It Takes (which i am editing [whoo-hoo!!!] in the Celbrity/Boy Bands Section.) My name is Jason, I'm fifteen, 5" 6' with neck-length brown hair, blue eys and a slight build. My legs seem too short for my body (I've been told that that's cute), my nose is too pointed, and I'm gay. Wow, what a combination. I've been called cute by girls, and I've recieved some lusty looks, hell, I've even went out with a few, but nothing ever happened. I've been dumped time and time again because I'm so "distant". My latest conquistadora (spanish for wanna-be conqueress) was a hispanic girl named Kieyla Hernandez. She gave me all sorts of fluttery looks whenever I saw her and had an annoying habit of touching my right arm when she talked to me. She had a nice voice, and these really deep brown puppy dog eyes that almost made me feel guilty that I was ignoring her. Almost. Like I said before, I'm gay, so I found myself immune to her heterosexual charms. It made all the cute guys eating from her hand happy, so I was happy to oblige. McIntosh Academy was full of cute guys, usually they followed one of the few girls around like a boy-harem (one of my many fantasies) or just stayed off the beaten path, trying to stay up with the rigorous academic program. Most were jocks who were scared to death of unelligibility because of failing grades. However, McIntosh Academy was home to two openly gay men. One, the guidance counselor Mr. Flores, a very nice-looking hispanic man in his early thirties and Mr. Lankford, a fat, effiminate, and very hormonal old man. He had hair on his nose and coming out of his ears and was an object of complete and total ridicule. However, he headed up every club in the universe, so he was left alone by the faculty. None of the students dared come out, though, because McIntosh Academy is smack in the center of Bibb County Georgia. Biggots, racists, rednecks, and more slithered out of the very shallow gene pools of the not-so illustrious middle Georgia county, making statements like: "Affirmative Action is legal racism, and The Ku Klux Klan has rights, too!" Most students had rich, fathers, simpleton mothers, and a healthy hate for anything unwhite, unstraight, and unProtestant. Luckily, I was born in Key West Florida, where I lived for thirteen years of my life. My dad is an architect, my mom's an accountant, my older brother Wil is in college, and my six-year -old brother Max is obviously in grade school. To sum up how my parents feel about this town: "Jim," my mom said, "If I have to sit through another PTA meeting and listen to another Billy Jean or Susie Joe or Martha bitch and moan about how the liberals and niggers are taking over, I'm going to scream!" My mom rarely cursed, so I knew that she was really serious. I love my parents, but they are just as biggoted as the people they complain about. We moved from Key West because my mom and dad didn't want the vast homosexual population to stunt my growth. My brother, Wil, never calls because he tried to come out to my parents and dad proceeded to cut him out of the will and claim that no son of his would be gay. So when I began to get feelings for other guys, I kept it to myself. It was Monday, August 14, the second day of school. Yet another wonderful year here at McIntosh Academy. I met my friend Chris outside the four sets of double doors that was the entrance to MA. "Got your stuff for Jeilson's class," I said, referring to our biology teacher. Chris raised his eyebrow in a very sexy way (i made a mental note to STOP thinking of Chris like that) and muttered an expletive that flattered neither me or my mother. We stumbled to homeroom as much as two half-asleep adolecsents could and plopped down in our seats. Ms. Kimbal, our homeroom and Geometry teacher began to blandly call out names as the bell began to ring. In her nasaly voice, she managed to cover a class of fifteen in five minutes. By then, I was asleep and dreaming nasty little dreams about my friend Chris. "Wake up, you ignorant shit!" hissed Callie Nugent, the only person in the world who knew about my homosexuality. "You wanna flunk *another* math class?" she asked. I mumbled something unintelligible like, "Deal the cards, or UNO!" For my trouble I got a slap on the back of the head. "Wake up or I'll tell everyone your dirty little secret," she said in a singsong voice. I was just about to tell her to go screw Mr. Lankford when her words registered. "You wouldn't!" I almost yelled. "Of course I wouldn't," she said, "but it woke you up." I scowled. I managed to stay awake during class, but lunch was another story. After almost falling asleep in my mystery meat and missing out on Callie's important conversation with Chris, she murmered "That's it." I woke up once again and gave her my best puppydog begging eyes and was nearing tears when she jumped up on her chair and whistled loudly. I was about to use my fork to stab myself when she began. "Ladies and Gentlemen, freaks and geeks, jocks and nerds...and teachers," she turned and looked at me, "our mutual friend Jason Alex Kent, has an announcement to make." I sank my head in my hands and choked back tears. Callie looked down coldly and looked back up. "He is very shy, so I'll make it for him, I'm sure that's how he'd want it to be anyway," she said in her best cheerleader's voice (she was junior varsity captain), "a secret that all of *you*, his girl admirerers, want to know." "Our friend Jason has confided in me that..." she drew out the long pause and I got up to prepare myself to puke all over the place as I ran for the bathroom. "HEY! Stop him!" I was suddenly caught by two bigger boys. "Please don't do this," I begged her. She scowled. "You should have listened to me when I was talking to you," she said. I was flabbergasted. Why would she tell everyone that I was gay just because I didn't listen to her stupid conversation? "Our friend Jason has told me that...He Is... Going to auction off his gorgeous bod to the highest bidder for the benefit of the MA junior varsity CHEERLEADERS!!!!!!" I didn't know whether to be supremely happy or infinitly angry. Angry, definitly angry. I moaned as girls around the cafeteria began to hold up dollar bills and shout prices. I turned to Callie. She smiled sweetly. I jerked my arms free of the guys holding me, who were splitting their sides with laughter. "I'm going to FUCKING KILL YOU!!!" I screamed over the crowd. Everyone began to yell louder and laugh harder, especially Chris. I was almost to her when I felt two very strong, very *adult* hands pull and drag me toward the central office. Before I knew it, I was sitting in the counselor's office. "Rioting, those broken chairs could count as vandalism, threats of bodily harm, and you know what all this could get you," said Mr. Flores. I nodded. "But it was Callie that started it all," I said, "you were there, you know what she was doing." "I do indeed," he said, "and she will be dealt with accordingly but, you, however, are caught on the short end of the stick, it's like if you aren't in a fight, but the fight is about you, then you are just as guilty as the persons starting the fight, understand?" "Mr. Flores," I said, "excuse my French, but no, I don't understand that, it sounds like a pile of shit to me." He grinned a wide, white-toothed grin. "It is," he said as he chuckled to himself, "and that's why I'm only going to send you home for today *only*, but next year, let's try to refrain from disrupting lunch until at least the first week of school is over, huh?" I grinned and nodded. "Good," he said in a suddenly more friendly tone, "your mom is on her way, she will be here shortly, you can wait in the lobby." I picked up my stuff and walked out. "Oh, and Jason," called Mr. Flores. I turned around. "I put fifteen bucks on you, but missed out, I feel like the cheerleaders are going to get a good bit of money!" I paused, nodded, then with a what-the-hell attitude, I winked at him. He grinned broader and winked at me back. So that's the end of chapter one. What did ya think, I know it was a bit short, but that's how it goes. You guys feel free to e-mail me at the above address. C-ya. Hugs, W.