This story describes the relationship and love life of two underage fictional boys. Any likeness between the characters of this story and real people are purely coincidental. If it is not legal to view this type of material, or you are not 18 years of age, read at your own risk. All material pertaining to this story is copyrighted to the author. Do not repost without permission.
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I was starting a new school. A new life.
Two and half years ago, I had told my family. Days afterwards, my friends. It was cool with them. They didn't really care. Well, they did, but they didn't expel me from the group.
I told them I was gay. They didn't care.
I sat down at a random desk near the front of my first class in this new school. To be truthful, it was a pretty damn impressive place. The building itself was only a year old, with a very modern design. The library faced the south and had huge expanses of clear glass windows so you could read by the natural light that streamed in. The large main halls had gently colored tile floors, and mostly white walls, but a number of art classes had already begun work on large murals. The central cafeteria opened onto a patio so students could enjoy meals outside when the weather permitted. Each classroom had nearly brand new desks and chairs. My own had very few marks on it, only a very large gouge that ran across the upper right corner.
I pulled out my laptop to check my email. The school had free wireless access for students. Nothing important there, just a couple "we miss you" letters from the guys back home. I missed them, but somehow felt that starting in this new school would be better for me. There was to much crap back there.
I took a moment to glance up at the teacher. She was old, probably in her 60's. Her short, grey hair was tied in a tight bun on the back of her head. She had a large, beak like nose upon which sat huge, round glasses that magnified her eyes. She was glaring at me. Well, her glare was torn between me and my computer. I sensed that it'd be a good idea to keep that away while class was in session. She was old, and so were her attitudes towards student freedoms. Yeah, this was going to be a fun class.
As I was putting away my laptop, I sensed someone sit in the seat next to me. The room was arraigned with 12 desks in four rows with three desks to a row. I looked up to see a handsome boy sitting next to me. His bright blue eyes had a sharp, calculating look to them, while the rest of his smooth face was set in a way that made him look dimmer than he really was. Short, straight black hair that was gelled and haphazardly messed gave him a face worth remembering. He was wearing a tight shirt that revealed a strong chest and firm abs. His arms were well built, but not muscle bound. And his calves, which were visible since he had shorts on, were equally well built.
I took notice in the fact that every exposed bit of skin, save for his scalp, was hairless.
I felt like I knew him. I hate that feeling. It's usually right.
I glanced around casually as the teacher, whom I'd started calling beaky in my mind, called off the names of the students around me.
"Brevy, Kathy," Beaky croaked. A pretty girl near the back raised her hand, smiling. She would have been attractive if I wasn't gay.
"Carlton, Michael," I rather large boy threw up his hand and muttered, "Mike."
And so it went. She called my name, Jason Develin, and I told her that I'd rather be called Jase. I noted the reaction of the boy next to me. He seemed to stiffen when he heard my name. He kept quiet, but I noticed him glancing at me.
Again, I felt like we knew each other. Again, I hated that feeling. I hoped I was wrong this time.
After a while, I began to wonder if this guy actually belonged here in class. But he kept his cool. Finally, Beaky called his name.
He raised his hand. I felt my heart skip a beat.
Damn it. I hate it when I'm right. Stupid feelings.
We didn't get a chance to talk. The teacher gave us assigned seats before he could even give me a sarcastic grin. We wound up on opposite ends of a row. We could still see each other, but it meant leaning forward or back in our seats. I didn't care. I wanted the space, welcomed it even. In this class, of the whole world, I met up with an old friend. Why does the universe hate me so?
With our seats assigned, Beaky told us to stand up and give a brief introduction of ourselves to the class. It was the typical deal That guy's a football player, that chick's a cheerleader. That one's into video games, that one's a skateboarder. Then came me.
I stood up calmly. Blake was watching me with a mix of amusement and curiosity in his calculating eyes while his face still held that dim witted look to it. I took a steadying breath and almost impatiently smooth down the little wrinkles in my shirt.
"Hey everyone," I said, looking into the glazed over eyes of my fellow classmates, "my name's Jase. I just moved here from out east a couple months ago. My favorite sport is hockey, my favorite food is swordfish steaks grilled with a squirt of lemon, I have two dogs, a rottweiler and a black lab, my favorite color is cherry red, I love history, and I'm gay."
I plunked back into my seat, a little winded. I'd said that all in one breath. I looked around me to see some people glaring at me, others looking at me questioningly. I turned my gaze on Blake, who's face was as passive as ever, but his eyes held a look of...satisfaction?-no, more like respect, maybe a little impressed.
The class continued on, but I noticed peoples looks darting between me and Blake. I was almost positive they could sense we knew each other.
The one time I wished I was right, I was wrong. Stupid feelings. Never trust them.
Blake stood to give his introduction. He took a deep, steadying breath before starting. Yep, same old Blake.
"Hey guys," he looked around the room, his eyes lingering on me, "name's Blake. I know some of you, and most of you know me, at least from sports if not more personally. I like hockey and pizza, don't have any pets, my favorite car is the Ford Mustang, and, as most of you already know, I'm gay."
He dropped back into his seat, and I felt the classes eyes fall on me. I didn't notice the inquisitive looks on their faces though. I was still in shock. This was a revelation I was not expecting, not even in my wildest dreams.
Soon though, the shock was replaced with anger. I balled my fists beneath my desk, clenched my jaw, and took several deep breaths. I wasn't going to lose control, not in class. I'd deal with it later.
45 minutes passes pretty fast when your mad. I got up when the bell rang, threw my bag over my shoulder, and quickly exited the classroom.
"Hey, Jase," I heard Blake call after me, "hold up a sec."
I didn't stop, didn't even look behind me.
"Jase, come on, wait a minute," I heard him say. He was closer.
"Go away Blake," I replied angrily, "I don't want to talk right now."
"Jase, come on, what's wrong?"
My temper flared. I spun to face him.
"What's wrong?" I retorted, my anger seeping into every word, "What's wrong? What the hell do you think is wrong?"
I was nearly yelling. I could sense the eyes of everyone in the hall on me and Blake.
"Calm down, man," Blake said, reaching out to put a hand on my shoulder. I smacked it away.
"No, Blake, I'm not going to calm down," I said, my voice now lower, but still full of anger. "Two years, Blake. Two fucking years. I told you guys! I fucking told you! And now, after all the shit you put me through, it turns out you're gay to? Do you have any fucking idea what that feels like?"
I turned around, tears now in my eyes. The memories were coming back, and I couldn't help but let them play out like old movies in my head...
* * * * * * * * * *
Two tears ago, I was starting middle school. It was going to be a great year, or so I told myself. Things were going to be different.
It was during lunch I told them. I'd been struggling to find a way to tell them, but couldn't find one that was as subtle as I'd prefer, so I settled on the direct approach. I stood behind my chair at my usual spot at the table as the rest of the guys got their lunches.
"Something wrong Jase?" one of them, Devin, asked.
"No, I'm just waiting for everyone to get here," I replied, looking at the lunch line, "I've got something to tell you guys, and I'm not sure I should be sitting while I tell you."
A couple of the guys gave me inquisitive looks, but I just shook my head.
"I have to tell everyone. I don't think I'll be able to stomach telling the lot of you more than once."
I laughed, belaying their suspicions for now. But I got the distinct feeling that a couple of them had an idea where this was going.
Finally, the last of my friends sat down.
"Okay guys, shut up and listen," Devin said, looking at me, "Jase here's got something to say to us."
"Yeah," I said, holding onto the back of my chair, "look guys, we've known each other for a while now. Crap, how can I say this. I don't want to screw up the whole friends thing we've got going, but I think, no I know, I have to tell you guys this."
They were all looking at me. Most of them were being silently supportive. I looked at Blake, the one I was really doing this for. He wouldn't meat my gaze. I felt my heart crack.
"The thing is, guys," I continued, "I'm gay."
Silence. At least, silence from my friends. Most of them looked like they didn't really care. Some looked at me in disbelief. A couple looked like they were going to get up and hit me.
"Well, that's that," I said, releasing my grip on the chair in front of me. "I'm gonna go sit with some other friends then..."
"It's okay Jase, you can still sit here," Devin said. He was one of the guys who'd looked like they hadn't cared. One of the other guys shot him an angry look.
"I don't want to sit with a fag," the kid, once a friend, said.
"Get over yourself," Devin retorted, "you've been friends with Jase for, what, two years? Just because he's told use he's gay doesn't mean he's all of a sudden an enemy of the state."
I couldn't help but smile. At least one of my friends was taking this good. A couple others were nodding in agreement with what Devin had said.
But I looked at Blake. He was staring at his food, no emotions on his face. I felt my heart shatter.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Two god damn years, Blake," I said, barely loud enough for him to hear me. "Then you moved. Was this why? Did I make you confront your own sexuality or something?"
"No, Jase, it's not like that," he replied, stepping closer to me, "it's just-"
"You could have told me!" I pushed him away, wiping the tears out of my eyes. "I wouldn't have told anyone, Blake, anyone at all. I wouldn't have told god if you told me not to. You're the god damn reason I came out to you guys, and you said nothing, NOTHING!"
He put his hand on my shoulder. I couldn't stop my self. I swung around and backhanded him. The noise echoed through the hall, which dimly registered as funny to my traumatized brain.
"Leave me alone," I whispered.
I saw the hurt look in his face.
My heart crumbled.
Stay on the look out for the next chapter of Killing Loneliness