Date: Sun, 21 Aug 2011 22:22:25 -0700 (PDT) From: John Meyers Subject: The Tragedy of Daniel and Jake Flashback The Tragedy of Daniel and Jake The Moments of Realization By John Meyers Disclaimer: Okay, first off, this is a sort of, flashback chapter like I mentioned in the last chapter. I thought it would be nice to get some kind of a backstory here on all the major gay characters so far, I.E. The Moments of Realization. The moments they all realized they were gay, as well as some back information. I thought it'd help us understand the characters a little better. Okay, actual disclaimer time. If this story is illegal where you are, maybe you should consider moving, but I wouldn't recommend reading it. I don't own anything copyrighted that I may have mentioned. All of these characters and their situations, scenarios, and plotlines are the products of my own imagination, which is pretty far out there obviously. And, here we are again. If you are under the legal age in whatever country, state, province, territory, whatever, you happen to be in, I'd recommend you remember to clear the history on your browser so that your parents don't find out what you're doing, and I'd also recommend that you use inPrivate browsing next time. If you have Internet explorer, it's under the Safety tab on your screen, if your using safari you can pretty much do the same thing, I'm not sure about firefox. Oh, and I'm not condoning you reading this. There, now I can't go to jail. Anywho, read on..... ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Danny's Moment of Realization I suppose you could say that I was one of those that always knew. I remember in the third grade, I would have daydreams. Not normal, "every kid has them" kinds of daydreams either. In the third grade, I could spend an hour fantasizing about characters from my favorite cartoons. I had no idea why, but scenarios kept coming up. Nothing too explicit of course, I 'was' a third grader after all, but it would be all the male characters, shirtless. Maybe they were doing something or another, but it was always irrelevant. The important part was their muscles, their skin tone, their slim, lithe bodies. I was too young to know to call it a hard on at the time, but that was, essentially, what I would get by thinking about these things. No idea why, I just did, and of course, with the feelings being so good, and them popping up whenever I thought about these kinds of things, I guess you could say that I was conditioned a little to think about them, I don't blame that for me being gay, I assume now, that I'm gay, because I couldn't be otherwise. I am what I am, and I can't change that, and you know what? I really wouldn't want to. Anyway, back to the story. So there I was, wasting away countless hours in classrooms and at home thinking about these cartoon guys without their shirts. My inquisitive mind at that young didn't make the leap from cartoon to real, at least not to later. I had a series of private... I guess you could call them, "exploratory", events that led to trying more and more things. I still feel like a great many are very private and personal, but I will share one with you. I remember this one time, when I was little, I'd begun stretching my legs by walking my feet across the bottom of the top bunk on my bunk bed. I'd had a futon/bunkbed when I was younger. I remember laying on my back, and slowly walking my feet up the bottom of the bunk, feeling my back stretch slowly. I remember at one point, I lost my balance, and my feet fell behind my head, putting my groin, right in front of my face. This got me "excited" but I didn't know why. It was later that night, when everyone else was asleep, that I decided to go a little further, and I tried it without any clothes on. Now, being so little, I didn't get anywhere, I just wasn't big enough, and I wasn't exactly the most flexible little kid in the world anyway. As much as it pains me to tell you, I used to be a little chubby and I'm very emberassed about it to this day. I hate all of the pictures of me when I was younger because I looked fat. I think it's what gave birth to my mildly narcissistic personality problem. Anyway, after that first time, I don't know why, but I never tried it again. Now, other than that, nothing additional happened in fourth grade. However, when I got to fifth grade, I discovered porn. What's odd, I didn't even start out with straight porn and become curious about the penises, I knew exactly what I wanted to see right from the get go. To this day I'm not sure how I got to the websites, or got the idea. I don't know if I googled them, I simply don't remember. But, one way or another, I wound up at a gay porn site whose name has since faded from memory. I remember it being as the first time I ever looked at porn, though the knowledge to masturbate would not come until I was in the latter half of seventh grade year. I was so naive. I remember sitting in front of the computer for hours looking at the pictures and videos. My penis would be rock hard during the entire time, but at this time, I didn't know anything about masturbation. I'd seen it a few times in some of the videos, but I'd never actually had the common sense to use what I saw and copy it. I still to this day don't have a lot of common sense. I remember another very embarrasing event when I was in the fifth grade. It wasn't when I realized I was gay, but I think it was when I realized I was different... And I didn't react very well to it. Anyway, I was sitting in my fifth grade classroom, reading, when I couldn't help but overhear a conversation going on behind me. I don't remember the conversation, all I remember is hearing the word, "penis" and immediately my head snapped up. I don't know why I did that, still don't, but it wasn't too long after that, hearing the boys talking behind me, making fun of me for jumping when I heard that word, that I began realizing I wasn't like other boys, and I began hating myself for it, and then being okay with it. Most of the time, I'd just be confused. This love/hate/confusion pattern would continue until I was in the ninth grade. For four years I remember looking at gay porn, being turned on, eventually learning to masturbate, but even before then I would get turned on, and then after I was done, I'd hate myself for doing that. I'd challenge myself to not think about anything like that, usually making a few days, before the thought would cross my mind, and I'd go back to being pissed with myself. The next encounter I had was in the sixth grade. It was just another day, and I was sitting directly behind and diagonally to, another boy in my class. Well, it just so happened, that when I glanced up, this kid had a hard on. He wasn't even trying to hide it. He was tensing up his pelvic muscle and making it move. Mind you, this kid was wearing athletic shorts, so there was no movement restriction whatsoever. You could clearly see it, I'm surprised the teacher didn't catch him. But it wasn't just me that was looking, there was another kid, I don't remember his name or even his face, but the kid who was doing this, got his attention to show him. When he noticed me looking, he was smiling. I've got no idea why, maybe he liked the attention, but I don't know. That was the only thing of import that happened that year. Now on to seventh, when I finally learned to masturbate. So it's seventh grade, at this point I've become very involved in FCA, or, the Fellowship of Christian Athletes. I've been very active in church and went to a few camps, so of course it's inevitable that I find myself hating myself, but above all hating gays. I remember the amount of anger I had at them, at myself, for being abominations. In my 7th grader mind I'd come up with a suggestion, which I frequently talked about with some of my "friends". It was to gather up every gay guy on the planet, and put them on Madagascar or somewhere, and leave them there to be seperated from the rest of the "normal" people. It didn't even occur to me that I'd be hauled off too. And again, in the mind of a seventh grader, when my friends asked me about lesbians, I of course said, "Oh no, lesbians are fine." Because I was obviously an idiot child. I still feel guilty over those thoughts to this day. But onward again. It was March 28 of my seventh grade year. And my "friend", whom I'd honestly begun hating at this point, was talking about something or another. I think he was talking about a fire or something. Anyway, he mentioned "white water" and made the jacking off motion that, at this point in my life, I'd never done myself before. I remember going home that night, and masturbating in the shower for the first time. It's ironic that one of the people I most hated gave me the information to do one of the best things a boy can do on his own. I never experimented with other guys, as some of you may have hoped. I never participated in a circle jerk, or any other kind of thing, my first sexual act with another person had yet to happen. So it was in finding out this information that set me up for a continuing four years of solid, regulatory masturbation. It happened at the start of 8th grade. I remember having friends over, I remember this one time when I watched my best friend, Mark, sleep. And another when I watched porn with him and while he was ogling over the women on the computer screen, I kept stealing sidelong glances at the tv because a 'Guys Gone Wild' commercial came on, and I was fascinated. It wasn't too much longer that I began to masturbate about Mark. That wasn't what tipped me off. What finally tipped the scale and set off the alarm bells in my mind, was when I started pretending he was sleeping next to me in my bed. I would position a pillow so it almost felt like another person, Mark, was lying next to me. I remember falling asleep with my arm slung over the pillow, like I was snuggling to Mark. And finally, after more than five years of experiences and evidence and denying and hating myself, though I was to learn that part was still far from over, it was as I was lying there one night, just about to fall asleep, when I fully realized that I was gay... ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Mark's Moment of Realization I'm not one hundred percent sure how it all happened to be honest. I guess it was slow, developing over time, just waiting, waiting for me to get my life together before striking. I suppose I am just a little bitter about the whole thing, after all, I never wanted this. What had I done to deserve this? I like to think that I didn't have any warning to it, but even as much as I think it developed over time, at the same time I feel like it just all came at me at once. You could compare it to looking for peices of a puzzle on the floor, and putting them back on the table, but instead of the puzzle coming together as you found them, they moved around randomly and they just made the picture look more confusing and then suddenly they all rushed together at once. The first time I'd even heard the word 'gay' was at one of my friends houses. It was in the sixth grade and he had another friend over and somehow or another we'd gotten on to the topic of sex. It was us three, and we were sitting there looking at porn when his brother walked in on us. At first I was horrified, I kept freaking out over what my mom and dad would think. Then his brother just shook his head and said, "Y'all should just jack off and get it over with already." Then he walked back out the door, still shaking his head. I turned to my friend and asked what jacking off was, and both of them looked at me like I was crazy. "You've never heard of jacking off?" My friend asked. I said no and he kinda smiled. I asked him what it was. "You know when your penis gets hard?" I nodded. "Well, you can sort of rub it to get it to go down." His friend butted in. "Only it feels really good, like the best thing on earth." My friend nodded his head enthusiastically. Well, I suppose the rest is a sort of history. We all know what happened next. I asked them if they could show me and my friend was fine with it, but his friend wasn't. "That'd be gay." He said, kind of looking at both of us weirdly. "No it wouldn't, not if we're just showing him how to do it. Come on, we're just helping out a friend." He begrudgingly agreed and so both of them dropped their pants and continued to look at porn. In all honesty I felt myself get rock hard at the sight of their penises, though I didn't know why. Yeah, history as I said, they taught me how to masturbate. I kept sneaking peaks at their penises, especially when they started cumming. Anyway, after that my friend and I, his friend was never there, began doing it almost everytime I was over. We eventually masurbated eachother, though we didn't do more than that. He got a girlfriend and said we needed to stop, else people would think we were fags. I asked him, and he said that fags were gay guys, and that it was the worst thing on the planet. He moved away not too long ago. That pretty much wrapped up my education on gay guys, I didn't have internet so I couldn't google it and I knew for a fact that my dad would yell and accuse me if I asked anything. I started going out with Miranda in the 8th grade, though I'd had a fairly long strain of moderately successful relationships up to that point. It wasn't long before I noticed Danny's conspicuous absence of a girlfriend, or anything like a girlfriend. I asked him about it once, he said he had his eyes on this girl in our grade, when I asked him why he didn't just go after someone else, he'd said that his parents raised him to always look for more than just the obvious in a girlfriend. And I believed him. When I asked him about her, he said he was just biding his time because she had a boyfriend. More than 2 years later, he came out to me. But I'm jumping ahead of myself. In the late 7th, 8th, and 9th grades, I'd either been with Miranda, or hanging out with people who Danny thought were a bad influence. I talked with them. We bashed fags all the time. Occasionally my hanging out with them, and my hanging out with Danny overlapsed. I always noticed how Danny was quiet and stoic around them. He was almost always looking off into space, and looked mad very often around them. I learned not to mix the two. Danny thought my friends were a bad influence on me, just like they didn't like Danny cuz he was so quiet, and smart. Danny was, without a doubt, the smartest kid in our class. He got all A's in everything, and was full of little talents, skills, quirks, and useless information. Like when he danced around in rollerskates at his eighth grade birthday party, or the murale that he painted, it was a landscape of the lake. These were both just two of his numerous talents. It was what made him Danny. That, his semi-sarcastic sense of humor, and his seeming lack of ability to get or stay angry with the exception of a few times. One day I asked him why he didn't like my other friends. He said that they were a bunch of redneck, racist skinheads and that, "I know that's mean to say, and I know they're your friends, but it's true. You know it's true." How could I know it's true, when I talked and agreed right along with them? I asked him why he thought that, and he said, "Because I've seen the way they act, I've heard the way they speak, and I can't be around people like that." We stopped hanging out a lot after that. It was both our faults. We hung out occasionally, but I learned to keep away from talking about anything to do with my other friends, which admittedly was fine with me. I'd stopped talking to a lot of people and Miranda asked me once. "Why aren't you hanging out with Danny anymore? I always liked him, he's really nice." "Danny and I are... not talking at the moment." It was the best I could do. I'd started having feelings. I couldn't explain them, and they scared me. "Why aren't you talking?" "Because he doesn't seem to like my other friends. It doesn't matter." "It always matters." I never really understood what that meant, but I tried to repair my relationship with Danny. In the early months it was his fault. He didn't want as much to do with me, with the way I was thinking. But in the later months, it was my fault. I noticed how tense he was when talking about religion and one day I asked why. He said that it wasn't religion, so to speak, it was doctrine, and history. When I inquired further... I don't think I've ever seen him that angry. Not over anything. Sweet, quiet Danny, who mediated everything, hearing both sides, and even then keeping his opinions out of it, lending out advice. This person who never got angry, or upset, shattered that facade the instant I asked him about it. He said he was angry in history class, when hearing about it, because of the evil things done in the name of religion. Again, I got stupid and asked what he meant. "I mean, that entire cultures, hordes of men, women, and children, hundreds of thousands of them, hell, millions of them, have been slaughtered in the name of Christianity." His eyes were alight with fire. "The Crusades, The Inquisition, The Witch Hunts, The Conquistadors, The Holocaust, they're all evil examples of how terrible we can be to eachother. All are terrible blots in human history." I asked why it mattered so much to him. "Because of the premise. Perhaps hate would be more easily forgiven, if it were just hate, but this wasn't!" He was yelling. "This was a kind of holier-than-thou attitude that allowed these abominations of self righteous people, to march into the homes of innocent people, and tear down their way of life, all for this insane idea that Christianity is the only right religion!" That was the key, the tipping point. "But Christianity is the only right religion." Bad move. Terrible move. His eyes, firey and filled with rage, locked on me. "I didn't realize that's how you felt." Then I made it even worse. "Are you even really a Christian?" I don't know what look was on his face. He seemed to think about it a while, drifting off. When he snapped out of it, he clearly and calmly said, "No." And I delivered what almost could have been the killing blow to our friendship. "Then I want nothing to do with you." And then I walked away. For months we were at eachothers throats when we ran into eachother. I hated myself for what was happening to us. All the time I felt myself getting drawn closer to Danny, but I kept moving away because of what he'd said. I couldn't deal with the conflicting feelings and so I gave in to the one that was easiest to give into... Anger. We had most of our classes together. And I did stupid things, like telling everyone he wasn't a Christian, which, in our school, was like murdering someone. Jeers and taunts followed him wherever he went, but he didn't back down. There were times when I wanted to join them in yelling, and there were others when I wanted to shield him from them. Often times I'd wind up crying, always alone of course, but crying nonetheless because of what was happening. I felt guilt, unbelievably heavy guilt that stuck to my heart and poisoned everything I did. It was one day, when I was coming out of football, I saw some people pick on Danny. There were four of them. Now might be a good time to mention that Danny and I took Tae-Kwon-Do together for the better part of five years, and he was really good. Not good enough for four on one, but still. When the first one went to punch him, Danny just wound up taking him off balance and he wound up on the ground. I clearly heard him say, "I don't want to fight you." Then they rushed him. I ran over there as fast a I could, not even really understanding why. And then I tackled two of them. I'd never felt more angry at anyone. I wanted to kill them for trying to hurt Danny. Between the two of us, we managed to get them running away. I practically broke down apologizing, crying, trying to explain how sorry I was, but Danny just gave me a quick hug and said, "Apology Accepted" and we've been good ever since. I learned a lot from Danny, He taught me to be a more accepting person, explaining his logic for a lot of his ideas and opinions. One day, as cautiously as I could, I asked him why he wasn't a Christian. Without even a pause, as though he'd rehearsed the response he said, "Because I can't believe in a religion that would doom me, and everyone like me, and everyone that didn't believe in it to a firey torture for eternity." That was all he said. When I told him that I'd still be a Christian, he just said, "I never wanted to rip you away from your faith." I'll be honest with you, I adored Danny. After we started talking again, and he explained his philosophy to me, I found that he was inspiring, and he didn't even know it. He was, in my eyes, perfect. He was what everyone should be; kind, gentle, accepting, wise, all of these qualities were perfectly embroidered into Danny. Several times I'd thought that maybe he was an angel or something, and yes, I'm being serious. One day I started thinking. I'd think about Danny, and I'd think about how good a friend he was. There was more than one time when I'd say something. Something that he knew wasn't the right answer, or some kind of misinformation, and someone would challenge me on it. But he wouldn't. He'd always tell me, of course, later, when I was wrong about something, but in front of others, he'd defend whatever I said with everything he had, usually throwing out a bunch of big words to confuse people. It didn't take long for me to start thinking about how much I loved him. At first I didn't understand it. In all reality, I'd have called him my brother. But, that wasn't it. He was beyond nice, smarter than anyone else I knew, he'd always give out good advice, and though he never complained, he'd listen to everyone else's complaints, their worries and the reasons they liked or didn't like this teacher, or that class. Hell, there were several times that a student he'd never even talked to before would come up to him and say something. Then he'd do his magic and have them talking about it in a flash. Then they'd walk away happier. Most of the time without even a thank you, but he didn't care. He's smart, but with exception of some big words, never brags or gloats about it. He helps myself, Miranda, Jake, Zack, Samantha, Tiffany, Angie, Alex, pretty much everyone that asks and several people who don't with their homework. Hell, he'd even put off his to do it, seeing our need as bigger than his. Anytime I asked him he'd just say, "I'm an all A student with an ACT of 32, and I'm only a junior. If I don't do my homework one time, I think I can make it." He'd either say that or, "Their asking me to help them, not do it for them, I don't think I could live with myself if I pushed them away." He's too nice of a person... Noone deserves him. That was what I thought. And then I thought of me, and I realized that 'I' didn't deserve him either. I cried for a while after I thought that and I began thinking of Danny as more than a brother, but I couldn't explain it. Anyway, I guess that, despite the feelings I had for Danny I didn't ever really realize that I was gay until the day he came out. On October 12, at around noon, while we were eating lunch, Danny told me, Miranda, Jake, and Zack that he was gay. It was then that I realized that I was gay, and I realized it because I loved Daniel... ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Eli's Moment of Realization When I was young, I remember going to a summer camp. It was two weeks long, and I shared a bunkhouse with 20 other boys, ages 10-13. I myself was 10. There were times when I would be changing, and I would look over and see the other boys changing. Some of the other boys were looking to, though any time we caught eachothers eye, we looked away quickly. I particularly remember the showers. We'd walk in, having got naked in the bunk room, and walking in, the showers were communal, just rows of shower heads, no stalls, no curtains, nothing. I remember getting to watch these boys as they showered, their soapy hands traveling all over tanned bodies. Some of them had a little hair down there. My penis was, of course, rock hard, though admittedly, at this age, it really didn't matter because everything was so undeveloped that I didn't figure it was noticeable. I made a friend at camp. He was eleven, his name was Tommy, and he had the bunk below mine. We started talking while we were swimming and we discovered that we had a lot in common, though he came from Missouri. We hung out all the time while there, eating together, swimming together, doing most of the activities together. I wasn't particularly good at many of the physical activities, except swimming. I loved swimming. Well, I guess you can guess what happened, right? We were sitting at a bonfire one night, the camp counselors had gone to investigate a fight, and the others decided to turn in early, when he suggested we go swimming. I told him my bathing suit was back at the cabin and he said we could go skinny dipping. "What's that?" I asked. "It's where you swim naked." I had to admit that the idea excited me, though I didn't know why. I said sure and we went down to the edge of the lake and started taking off our clothes. We both pulled our shirts over our heads and I noticed how the moonlight bleached our skin white. It reflected off his eyes and his teeth when he smiled, giving him a very excited look. Both of our breathing seemed a little ragged and I felt my heart beating like a hummingbird's wings. We both looked at eachother before slowly unbuttoning, and unzipping our shorts. The humid air stuck to my skin and the grasshoppers and frogs were filling the air with their bloats and chirping. We both slowly slid off our shorts and underwear at the same time, and then we stood there, naked in the moonlight, staring at eachother. He grabbed my hand and led me to the water. It lapped at my feet as we slowly waded in. The water was warm like bathwater and Tommy lightly squeezed my hand as the water made it up to my waist. We went just a little farther before we both let go and dived forward, the warm water rushing up to my shoulders and around my body. We swam for a while, but then he stopped and looked at me. After a second, he grabbed my hand and pulled me in close, the mud squished between my toes and he gazed into my eyes for a while. Then he tilted my head up with his finger and... We both closed our eyes and kissed. It was tender, romantic even. It wasn't too long after that before we heard laughing and loud talking. We dropped down so that just our heads were above the water and we saw the counselors come back and douse the fire. After that, we both sneaked back up to the cabin. We got in fine, and went to sleep, but after that, nothing ever happened again. Our friendship remained, but he never mentioned that night again. Camp ended, we both went back home and I never saw him again. After that, I suppose nothing else happened until the day of Danny's birthday party when I was in the eighth grade. I'd just gotten a haircut and styled up my hair in my now standard fohawk. I'd put on one of my favorite bright yellow shirts, and a pair of black skinny jeans. I put on my black and yellow shoes to tie up the ensemble. I heard a honk from outside. Danny and his mom were here. I came out of my room and came around the staircase calling to my mom "Hey mom, Danny's here! I'm going." She came around the corner and looked at me funny. "K." Her voice seemed odd somehow, though I was to learn what it all meant later. I went out the door, got in his mom's car, and rode on to the roller skating rink. "Mrs. Graves, where's Allen, did he not come?" "Oh no honey, he had to go to drill this weekend." Allen was in the National Guard, so he was gone a lot for army stuff. We made it to the skating rink. While I was trying to put on my roller skates I heard, "Fag." But when I looked around noone was looking at me. The closest people were a small group of boys that looked to be here for some other boys' birthday party. I thought I recognized them. I smirked to myself while I laced up my skates and I said, not under my breath, but just loud enough for them to hear, "Typical coward words, not standing behind them. Seems like someone else is a bit more fag-ish around here." That's not to say that I thought gays were cowards, but I knew it'd piss them off. They came over to me. "What'd you say... faggot?" The oldest one, they looked about two or so years older than me, came up to me and towered over me. I stood up, trying desperately to keep my balance, while not looking like I was trying to keep my balance. "I believe the whole point of you being up in my face is that you heard me perfectly." He sneered at me, then he pushed me, and I rolled backwards and fell back, landing hard on my ass. I grabbed onto a seat and stood myself up. They were guffawing stupidly, the idiots. Just then I looked to see Danny speed over and hop the boundary to the skating area, catching himself on the edge of a table, spinning around beside me. Damn he's good. "There a problem here gentlemen?" He was using his mediator voice. "Yeah, you've got a faggot at your birthday party." The big ugly one pointed at me. Danny didn't even blink, and was staring them down. "I don't honestly think there's any need for any vulgarity here." I'm not sure if I should take it as a good or bad sign that he didn't really attack the accusation, moreso he just focused on the word. "I'm sure you don't. You're probably just a little faggot too, aren't you?" They glared at him before walking away. "You need any help?" He extended his hand, clearly seeing that I wasn't the most balanced on rollerskates. I took his hand and he guided me over to where our party's table was and I sat down. He sat down beside me. "Assholes, every one of them. You have to be to call anyone any kind of name like that." I don't know why I did it, but I did. "Well, I suppose it's probably all too obvious, but their namecalling wasn't exactly entirely unfounded." I could see him look at me out of the corner of my eye, because I refused to meet it. I heard him sigh deeply. Here it comes, now he'll call you names too. "If it makes you feel any better, not everyone is so narrow-minded as that. There are people out there who don't care about whether your straight or gay." Now I looked at him, but he didn't look at me. Then he smiled at me and got up. "If you ever come across people like that again," He skated around backwards so he was skating away from me, but he was turned toward me. "just flip em' off and walk away." His shit eating grin flashed and he skated off. And that, I think, was the moment I really realized I was gay. Because I was in love with Daniel... ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Jake's Moment of Realization I'm so fucked up. Forgive my language, but I never had a single thought, never a moment of curiosity, never a second of thinking about another guy like that and then... Then I kissed Danny... I was on my way to picking up Zack when I thought I'd stop by Rachael's house. Maybe I'd see if she wanted to go. I pulled up to her house and walked up the stairs, onto their porch and knocked. No sooner had I done so then I heard the lock come unlatched and the door opened. There stood Rachael, her phone in her hand and her hair messed up. Her eyes got wide and she shut her phone quickly. It didn't last long. No sooner had I said, "Hey Rachael." did I feel my phone vibrate. I pulled out my phone and noticed that it was a text from Rachael. I went to read it but she screamed, "Don't!" Too late. I didn't even read the whole message, but I read enough to see what she intended by it. My eyes locked on the words, "... break up..." and I was out of there like a gunshot. "No! Jake listen! Jake! Jake!" She followed me until I got to my car and got in. I went to turn the key... Then I saw him. He came out of the house, his shirt off. One of the guys from the football team. The sun gleamed off of him and he looked decidedly confused. But, his hair was messed up, as though they were in her bedroom.... doing... NO! I hit the reverse and floored it, spinning out of her driveway. Then I went and got Zack. Thankfully, Zack knows better than to mess with me when I got in this kind of mood. I went to the mall, had a great time, and almost forgot about the thing with Rachael. That is, until I sang that song. That had been our song. I know it's stupid, but that 'was' the song that was playing when we had our first kiss. We'd tried to make it so it seemed like we were, "Daring eachother to move, to make that move" so we made it seem more romantic, but now that I was singing it again, the only thing it made me think of was my teammate coming out of her house. And then, Sheryl showed up. Excuse my language again, but she is the biggest bitch on the planet. Not to mention she hates Daniel with a passion. Personally, that's just not cool. Later, when I was telling Danny, and he started telling me all those things, I just... This overwhelming urge to kiss him stole over me. It was like I had to, like I would die if I didn't. So I did... And I changed my life forever. It had never occurred to me before about how much I would enjoy the feelings of his lips on mine. I'd never taken the time to appreciate how nice he was. I suppose you're looking for me to tell you that this was the moment I realized that I was gay. But in all honesty, I just don't know if I am or not. I don't know if I'm gay, or straight, or bi, or just gay for Danny, or just really fricking confused. I'll tell you what I do know though. I know that I'm in love with Daniel... ----------------------------------------------------------------------- So, how'd you like it? I'm thinking about doing one for all of the gay characters, which will total 9, possibly more, though I haven't gotten that far yet. I may even have a few lesbian characters, in which case I'll do one for them too, but as I'm not a woman, it's a bit more difficult to write a lesbian character than it is a gay character. But yeah, that'll be Danny, Mark, Jake, Eli, Alex, Cody, Sean, and the two characters you've yet to meet, Dakota, and Logan. One of whom is already a student at their school, the other a transfer who comes in on Monday. I'm even thinking about bringing in Tommy from Eli's story to add a little more flare to the story, but I won't do that without the consent of my readers, anyway, I'm sorry for having so many chapters covering two days, it'll confuse later chapters because, well, if I were doing a chapter for every day, there'd be well over 700 chapters considering I'm wanting to continue the story till graduation, and they're only juniors right now. I'm wanting to keep the story under a certain amount of chapters so that way it won't intimidate people who may come in later and see it. Anyway, so review to johnmeyerz36@yahoo.com