Date: Sat, 16 Aug 2008 00:25:34 EDT
From: HnstSkr4@aol.com
Subject: The Mirror and Nothing More Chapters 5-8

Warning: This story doesn't contain any sex.  It's the story of gay teens.

None of the characters are based on real people nor are they meant to
resemble any living or dead people.

Let me know what you think of the story by emailing me at
_Hnstskr4@aol.com_

I want to thank everyone who has emailed.  I also want to thank those who
have read the story.  It means a lot hearing from you.  Please continue
reading! There is a lot more to come.  I own all rights to this story.
Chuck B.


Chapter 5 -- The Dread and The Note

A part of me trembled, when I heard Jeff say, that he already knew, that I
was gay. It's only been an hour since we had our talk. I wonder what my
friends and team-mates are thinking since, they saw me with Jeff. Their
eyes seemed to burn into my soul as Jeff and I ate and talked, but none of
them came up to me to cause trouble, so maybe this dread will pass. I
wonder what evils the guys are forming inside their collective mind.

Will they make me pay for sitting away from the hive, the team? I believe,
they will even if it it's only to rub it in my face. I must admit that I
feel anxious and it gets worse when, I'm in the hallway, because an ambush
could easily be hidden amongst the doors and the crowd. I've only got two
more hours to sweat before the bells will sound sending me home to rest my
worries. I have only two more hours to spend waiting for my team to mess
with me.

Finally, the bell has gone off. My feel move me quickly to my locker. As I
grab the last bit of homework, I feel eyes peering over my shoulders.
Slowly turning, there is the face, that I've wanted to avoid since lunch.
There is the guy from my team who bullied Jeff, Pete. He didn't say a word,
nor did he have a mean look about him. He stood there, gave me a note and
then walked back into the crowd.


Chapter 6 -- Pete's Note

Pete's note was burning a hole in my pocket the entire way home. I am dying
inside as I feel the rejection welling up inside of my mind. The car ride
home is horrid, I want to read that note, but the road is not the place to
face my fears. I'll sweat the flames till I get home.

Running up the front porch, I enter the house and run from the front door
up to my room. Reaching into the pocket of my jeans, I pull the note out
into the air. The air seems to surge with energy as I unfold the note. My
eyes scan over Pete's hand written note:

"Alex,

I saw you talking to the fag, but you don't have to worry about me coming
for you. I've known for some time that you were gay. Alex, I know and I
don't care, because you are my team-mate, but more importantly, you are my
friend and always will be. Call me when you can."

I'm crying! Yeah, I'm crying because I'm happy. I am happy because I'm not
being rejected by a friend. For now, I'm saved.

My phone rings. At first, I resist picking it up. It rings again and this
time, my hand cannot resist the mechanical ring. My mouth opens and the
words escape.

"Hello, Alex here."

"Queer!"

The other phone was forcibly hung up. The voice on the other end was
anything but nice, and whoever it was knows me. It makes perfect sense
that, I should know them, but yet my mind cannot put a name to that
voice. I want to just hide, and yet I know I can't. I want to face this
life, that I've started and at the same time, I don't want to face the
hatred.  Still, I cannot take back what I've said or my actions. I suppose
I should call Pete.


Chapter 7 -- Hating Me, Loving Me

It all started with me eating alongside Jeff. Jeff found out that I was gay
and so did Pete, a lifelong friend. I received my first verbal assault
after Pete's note. As I sit here on the floor near the door and the mirror,
my mind takes off lost in thought. I was so lost that I didn't hear my
mom's call to dinner, so she sent my dad up to get my attention. A knock on
the door, dad's knock, brought me back.

At dinner, I rehashed my day as mom and dad both listened intently. I
couldn't bring myself to tell them about the rude phone call. I don't want
my parents' worrying for my safety. Parents shouldn't have to worry about
their kids, though I know parents do. We, their kids, need to feel safe and
secure in life. With dinner over, I returned to the confines of my room.

I closed the door and gazed at my reflection. There isn't an image of a fag
or a queer looking back at me. The image is me, just me. I don't see those
words in my appearance and I know they are just a small part of me. Those
words don't define my life. They never will.  Why do others insist on using
words meant to define me and others to hurt us?  Why do others insist on
harming others?

The phone rings and immediately, I answer it. "Hello!" I say hoping it is a
friend. "Hey Alex, what's going on?" a friendly voice, just what I need to
make the memory of the phone call fade. "Not much Pete! Hey thanks for the
note! It really meant a lot to me." I said. "I didn't want you to think,
that I was a total jerk. Besides, I'm your friend and that isn't going to
change."

Pete's voice didn't break once. I knew, he was being honest with me. Do I
tell him about the other phone call or do I forget about it? "I had my
first taste of homophobia today." I did my best to sound like it was really
no big deal.

"What? What happened?" Pete's voice suddenly sounded angry. "I finished
reading your note and after I put it on my desk, the phone rang. I answered
it, and the voice on the other end said "Queer!" and then slammed down the
phone."

I didn't want him to be worried about me. "Look just be careful, there are
some crazy people out there. Don't forget, that I got your back!" Pete has
never once taken our friendship lightly. No one wants Pete coming down on
them out of anger. "You know me Pete, I can handle this problem."  Roughly
translated, it means "I think, that I can handle this mess.". I don't
believe for one minute that Pete bought my story, and I'm not sure that I
bought it either.

"Well Alex, I need to get going. Have you started on your English paper?"
Pete asked. "Yeah last night! Night my friend!" With that, our conversation
was over. All of the sudden, something about Pete hit me in the face.


Chapter 8 -- Thinking Of Him

When Pete and I ended our conversation last night, my mind kept him on
stage even while, the body rested. Throughout the morning, I found myself
daydreaming of time spent with Pete. Having him as a friend is all I really
want, so why does it feel like I'm wanting more? I don't want to lose my
friendship with him over something that I can't explain.

We talk at lunch, Jeff, Pete, and me. As I talk with my friends, it wants
to come out but I can't allow it, not here and not now. Can they tell I'm
holding back?  I hope not because I don't need questions and rumors popping
up about whom I like or who others think that I like. Made it through
without any questions or comments but my inner voice says "It's not over
just yet!" What does it mean "not over yet"?

With two back to back quizzes, I don't have time to worry away. After
classes, another note is found taped to my locker. I carefully remove it
and open it up. Revealing, its contents to me and now to Pete, who now
stands looking over my shoulder and reading my note:

"Listen fag, I know who you like, so back off or I'll tell!"

He smiles and teases me.

"Jeffery has a crush."

Never, not once did he question the note. Instead, he wadded it up and
tossed the paper away into the trash.

"Are ready to go?"

I asked him as I dug my keys out of my pocket. We started walking out to
the car. We were talking and laughing our way to the car.

I unlocked the doors and turned to Pete.  Almost on cue, his phone rang,
and we both stepped into the car.

"Hello!"

He said as he clung to his phone.

"What?"

His eyes seem to burn as he spoke. Could this call be the one that exposes
my thoughts and longings to Pete?

"Shut the _____ up! He can speak for himself."

I thought, he just might be angry enough to hit me or demand that I let him
out of the car. He didn't and that is fine with me. I'd rather Pete not be
mad at me.  He shut the phone off and put it away.

"Alex!"

He said glancing at me. I could see a question burning a fire inside of
him, so why am I now sweating.

"Yes, Pete!"

I didn't want to answer his question, but I knew he needed to get it out.

"Alex...Alex, do you like me?"

I found a place to park the car and then I stared at him and answered his
question.

"Pete, I'm trying to figure things myself. All day long, I've thought about
you, but I know this is crazy."