Date: Tue, 30 Dec 2003 17:59:44 -0500
From: Drake <drake@draketales.org>
Subject: Moot Point

Moot Point

by Drake Hunter

"Fag."

"Breeder."

"It's people like you who go around whining about special rights that makes
it so difficult."

"It's not about special rights: it's about equal rights and the whole due
process thing. It's about being civil, and the application of civil rights
to everyone."

"You've got this licked, Bobby."

"I hope so `cause I've been working on it for almost six weeks now," Bobby
replied.

Trent nodded his head.

"Seriously, I really owe you big time for helping me get ready."

"No sweat, bro, and you don't owe me. I just want to see you rip Alicia a
new one where she can stick her head," Trent responded with a malicious
grin.

"Not gonna be easy," Bobby mumbled.

"Dude, give me a break," Trent told him sternly. "Everyone's been dying to
see you two go at it. Ever since you got me into this debate club, I've
been thinking `bout stuff I never thought I would."

"And you were the one who bitched when I suggested it."

"Hey! A guy can change his mind!"

"But not his sexuality!" Bobby said in a low tone.

"Not like I haven't tried with you!" Trent rejoined darkly.

Bobby was about to say something rude, but he caught the glint in Trent's
eyes. Of all of Bobby's friends, Trent had had the hardest time adjusting
his thinking after Bobby came out. There were moments when it looked as
though the friendship would fail, and yet Bobby always knew there was a
trump card in his deck. Trent may have bristled at the news Bobby was gay,
but he could not deny the young man was an excellent goalie. In the end, it
was their shared fanatical love of hockey that kept the relationship
afloat. Trent was the only person who was allowed to make even joking
insults at Bobby without fear of total retaliation. Even then there was a
significant degree of jabs and punches at one another. Everyone around them
tended to get out of the way when the two engaged in pseudo-battles. For
almost a year and half, Trent would not touch Bobby. Yet Bobby had
persistently worked on and against his best friend's entrenched thinking.
It had taken two years, their sophomore and junior years of high school,
but they were once again in the same position as they had been most of
their lives. Whether on or off the ice, Bobby and Trent were one another's
strongest allies. No one came between them.

"Do me a favor," Trent said in a whisper, "don't let up on her, and make
Alicia eat all the crap she's been dishing out. It's her turn."

"Trust me: I plan on it," Bobby said through clenched teeth.

Alicia Dover was a popular girl. She was co-captain of the cheerleading
squad. She was a superb academic. She was already considering herself
valedictorian of the class. Alicia Dover was also a staunch homophobe.
Where once she and Bobby had been at least civil and polite to one another,
it all changed when Bobby gave up the pretense and admitted his sexuality
to himself and others. From that moment forward, Alicia had become his
biggest detractor. She made no effort to be considerate and understanding,
and she let everyone know her opinion. Bobby had struggled against the
daily gossip and verbal assaults Alicia generated. She worked actively
against him at every turn. Bobby thought about her, the tactics she would
use in the confrontation, and remembered how he became involved in the
debate club.

"You're crazy, Jessica!" Bobby blurted loudly shortly before the previous
school year had ended.

Jessica Mankowski looked at him coolly with unflinching eyes. Trent
Nordsen, Tammy Leverling and Mike Cousins looked elsewhere. Bobby was left
on his own while sitting at table filled with friends during the lunch
period. He stared back at Jessica.

"Well, I can see how your current plan of saying `Whatever' and `Duh' is
working perfectly," Jessica remarked dryly. "Maybe next year you can add `I
don't know' and `Sure' to the repertoire."

"He's a hockey player, Jess. What else do you expect him to say?" Trent
ventured forth with a question. It seemed perfectly reasonable.

"I expect him to fight being treated like garbage. Sheesh, Trent! He'd
never take that on the ice," Jessica rejoined smartly.

"Not the same thing, girl," Tammy mumbled.

"Got that right," Mike concurred.

"What's wrong with sticking up for himself? Huh? Since when does that bitch
get to say who's on top and who isn't?"

Trent snorted, and then tried to bury it in his hands when Jessica shot him
a sour look.

"You need to take her on where she least expects it."

"Jessica!" Bobby huffed. "The debate club? Damn, I'd never hear the end of
it from the guys!"

"You don't hear the end of it, and that's part of the problem," Jessica's
voice sliced through his complaint. "Bobby, you'll knock the crap out of
somebody in a game... any game, but you won't stick up for yourself when
people are messing with your personal business. I don't get it! What's the
difference?"

Bobby was forced to sit and think about that. It was, he conceded
privately, a valid point. However, her suggestion that he join the debate
club the next school year seemed ludicrous. Bobby was further forced to
admit he was not a great student. Joining the debate club would only add to
his schoolwork, and he had to struggle to complete the basics for his
classes. It simply was not a logical option. Bobby shook his head while
pondered.

"Look, Bobby, she's been riding you since last year. No one would really
care one way or the other `bout you being gay, but Alicia keeps stirring it
up. And don't even pretend like you don't care `cause I know you do. We all
know!"

Bobby glanced around at his friends. Even Trent was silently nodding his
head a little. Bobby had hoped the others would have bought into his act
that the comments made by a select few in the school had no affect on
him. They did not, and it did. Part of the general student body opinion was
fashioned by a self-selected, self-serving group of individuals who thought
it was their duty to shape public opinion. Bobby loathed those people and
prayed daily that perhaps one of them might be foolish enough to strap on
some ice skates and meet him face-to-face on his territory. No one ever
did. His deep yearning to even the score went unrequited, but he was not
certain Jessica's proposal was sound. He simply did not believe he had the
intellectual wherewithal to effectively face Alicia Dover on her territory,
and yet that was precisely what Jessica was suggesting.

"Bobby, you won't be alone," Jessica said as if reading his thoughts. "Matt
Higgins, Jason Brinker and Sue Westfall are in the club with me. They like
you, and you know they do. They'll back you up all the way and give you as
much help as they can."

Bobby felt his stomach jump. He saw Trent looking askance at him, and he
knew why. Trent knew why as well. Some four months before, Bobby had
admitted to Trent that he had a crush on Jason Brinker, even though Jason
was decidedly heterosexual. That fact did nothing to dispel what Bobby
felt. Trent privately teased him on occasion, but eventually refrained from
the taunts when he realized how difficult it was for Bobby. Admitting he
was gay was easy compared to finding someone in whom he could invest his
emotions. Bobby was a jock. He acted like one. He thought like one. He
desperately wished one of the other school athletes would come out of the
closet so he would not feel as alone. There were other gay students in the
school. Bobby had made friends with a number of them, yet not one sparked
his interest in the same manner as Jason Brinker. Even getting close to
Jason made Bobby feel all giddy and stupid. Thus, Bobby could not imagine
placing himself in close proximity to Jason and not acting like a complete
dolt or appearing like an idiot. Moreover, he did not want Jason to get the
impression he was being hit upon. That could only lead to more problems.

"Trent... join with him!" Jessica said in desperation.

"Bite me!" Trent grumbled. "I ain't hooking up with no geek fest with you
or Bobby no matter what it comes down to!"

Bobby felt a bit stung by the statement. Trent had taken a long time in
coming to understand that Bobby was no different before he stated he was
gay than afterward. People suddenly knew one item more about him, and it
had not changed him. However, once Trent had reconciled himself with the
information, he returned to being a fiercely loyal friend. Hence, Bobby
wondered at the reluctance to lend assistance.

"Jess, what the foo makes you think I'm gonna sign up when he doesn't want
to? You're tripping bad!"

Jessica did not appear persuaded by the argument. This was her territory,
and she knew the rules of the game to perfection. Bobby flinched when she
cast her gaze directly at him.

"Would you join if Trent did?"

"Um..." he said and carried out the last consonant. "Maybe... I guess."

"Dude, you're dogging me!" Trent barked.

That was how it got started, and it did not end there. Bobby thought back
to the summer, and the near daily arguments sponsored by Jessica. Somewhere
along the way she convinced both Tammy and Mike it was a sensible
plan. Bobby and Trent resisted as long as they could with stubborn
defiance. Bobby could not determine if Trent has slipped at some point or
if Jessica had figured it out on her own, but she played an end-game around
him. Three weeks before the school years started, Jason Brinker called. It
was civil and simple conversation wherein Jason encouraged Bobby to join
the debate club. Bobby was relieved it was a telephone conversation because
he was veritably melting with lust on the other end of the receiver. With
such enticement tossed his way, and the seeming sincere appeal of Jason,
Bobby relented. Trent almost flayed Bobby when the turn around came. The
deal was consecrated with a battle royale of backyard football. They nearly
beat one another into a bloody pulp, but it proved to Trent that Bobby was
serious. Despite their usual method of making joint decisions, Bobby knew
better than to admit why he had changed his mind.

Thus, Robert Arnor and Trent Nordsen found themselves in the unlikely
position of signing up for the debate club. Jessica, Sue, Jason and Matt
accepted them warmly, and the six formed their own little circle. Alicia
Dover and her cadre of friends scoffed and scorned the arrival of Bobby and
Trent in the midst of the academic extra-circular activity.

"I didn't think you were smart enough to know where to find the room if
there wasn't any ice involved," Alicia told Bobby during the first official
meeting of the debate club. "I think you've been hit in the head with one
too many pucks, Bobby."

She said his name like she was talking to a child. Bobby felt his face
twist into a snarl. The desire to crosscheck her into the wall ambled
through him. He was certain the idea violated some rule or regulation in
the club. Bobby knew debate was not a contact sport. There was a part of
his mind that hoped there might be a change in the rules.

"Nice come back," Alicia droned as she wandered back to her gaggle of
snickering friends.

"Ignore it," Matt Higgins advised him.

"Save it for a debate," Jessica needlessly, but concernedly, added.

Bobby felt naked without his pads, skates and stick. He could block a high
velocity shot aimed straight for his face without even thinking twice. It
was instinct for him. He was never afraid on the ice. The debate club was
an entirely different field of play. Bobby did not know the rules. He did
know what he could say that would not draw the condescension and ire of
others. He needed his friends, especially Jessica whom he wanted to
strangle at that moment, to show him how the game was played.

"Just be cool, Arnor, and you'll get your chance," Jason said quietly from
the seat behind Bobby.

Bobby felt his knees turn to jelly. He heard Trent snicker. A longing to
hit Jessica in the side of the head with a book filled his mind. He also
felt compelled to jam an elbow in Trent's ribs. The absurdity of a hockey
player joining the debate club washed over him. Bobby shook his head at the
unlikely set of circumstances. He proudly considered himself a great
meathead goalie capable of taking on the wildest slap shots. Bobby felt no
fear when he was on the ice. It was his domain. He lived and breathed the
game even during the off-season. While other kids would turn to the sun,
swimming and sailing during the summer, Bobby haunted the local ice
rink. He was not alone. When school resumed in the fall he rarely boasted a
full tan, but he was in excellent shape and ready for another year of
hockey. Until that fall and the start of his senior year, Robert Arnor
nearly defined himself exclusively through hockey. Now, his self-perception
was being challenged as he sat in the classroom after the regular school
day ended waiting face an opponent who possessed formidable skills. Bobby
was nervous.

It took some time before the desire to beat Jessica senseless finally
abated to a tolerable level. Jason, Matt and Sue played an integral role in
the education of Robert Arnor and Trent Nordsen. The three newer friends
kept him from loosing his temper and making an ass out of himself in the
club. When the session arrived where they would select their agenda, as
well as outlining the competition topic agenda, Bobby had to depend on the
others. Both he and Trent were perplexed about the issues that would be
tackled. He felt out of his depth. He was out of his league, and Trent was
in the same position with him. Trent, for his part, wanted to kill Bobby
for yielding to Jessica's prodding. However, they each sat like frightened
rabbits when the open topic agenda was being decided.

"Robby?" Ms. Lauren said his name as a question.

For reasons he could not discern, the woman consistently chose to call him
by a different variant of his name. He had even corrected her on a few
occasions, and it did nothing to alter her preferred form of address. Bobby
stared at Ms. Lauren.

"Do you have any issues or topics you would like to debate this year?" She
asked patiently.

"I, ah... um, hadn't thought about it much," he replied.

"No surprise there," Alicia mumbled from her corner.

Ms. Lauren shot the young woman a threatening look.

"Well, if you do think of something, you can let me know before the next
meeting," Ms. Lauren told him with compassion while providing a clean
escape route.

"Jason? Do you have any issues you want to take on?"

"Yeah, except I want it to be an open question," Jason stated confidently.

Bobby was jealous of the easy manner and solid delivery of Jason. It also
made his stomach float.

"Do you want rights on first assignment?" The club advisor queried.

"Nope."

"Good. We didn't have an open question last year. This will make it more
interesting," Ms. Lauren commented in a pleased fashion. "So, what's the
topic?"

There was a brief pause while Jason fumbled with a piece of paper. He
cleared his throat, sat up straight in his seat, and paused again.

"For consideration," Jason said in a calm baritone. "Does the advancement
of gay rights equate to a call for special rights?"

The room was silent. Bobby gulped. Any feeling of longing he held for Jason
was replaced with an urge to head butt the young man. He refrained for a
multitude of reasons.

"Excellent question, Mr. Brinker," Ms. Lauren causally commented. "Since
this is an open topic, we need consensus from the club before it can be
added to the agenda. A simple majority will carry the question. All those
in favor of adding the topic, please signify by raising your hands."

Bobby was paralyzed. He heard a rustling spread throughout the
classroom. His head did not swivel around to see who was voting.

"Good. Those who oppose adding the issue please raise your hand,"
Ms. Lauren commanded the class.

Bobby heard more movement, and again he did not budge.

"Abstentions?" The woman inquired.

Jessica had explained the term to him, and Bobby felt his arm raise of its
own volition. He could not detect any other sound. The act made him feel
strangely isolated.

"Very well," Ms. Lauren said and smiled at the class. "By a vote of twelve
in favor, six opposed and two abstentions, the topic is affirmed and added
to the agenda."

Bobby sat mute throughout the rest of the meeting. He could not begin to
formulate a logical explanation of why Jason Brinker, of all people, had
proposed the topic. Moreover, the sizable majority dumbfounded him. When
the meeting adjourned for the afternoon, Jessica and Matt confronted Bobby.

"Why did you abstain?" Jessica asked him accusingly.

"I wasn't alone." Bobby muttered his response.

"Trent doesn't count!"

Trent, who was standing behind Matt, next to Sue and Jason, glanced at
something else further down the hall.

"Actually, it was probably a good idea that he did," Sue stated
quietly. "It makes him appear neutral on the issue."

"And he gets the right of reply if he thinks the topic is personally
defaming or slanderous... especially during a debate," Jason added with a
nod of approval.

Bobby could barely keep himself from dissolving into a slobbering
mess. Jason Brinker was complimenting him. Jason's deliciously deep, brown
eyes held Bobby's for a few moments, and then he smiled. Bobby felt a
powerful surge gush through him. Trent was grinning his private, taunting
smile that was designed to irritate Bobby. It worked.

"I didn't know what else to do," Bobby grunted out a rationale, trying to
hide the real reason for his discomfiture.

"It showed," Jessica mumbled.

"That's not fair, Jess," Matt said, annoyance tainting his words. "Bobby's
never done this before. Give him a break. Besides, he followed the rules,
and it was good call for him. If you don't know: abstain. Remember?"

There were murmurs of agreement. Jessica narrowed her eyes and glared at
the floor. Bobby could not guess what she had expected of him, or Trent for
that matter. He began to plot dragging her out on the ice when winter came,
slapping some gear on her, and watching Jessica try to make sense of the
game without explanation. The thought calmed him.

"Are you going to take the question, Bobby?" Matt inquired when the awkward
silence had lasted too long.

"I... um, I don't know. Probably not," Bobby replied and looked away.

He heard Jessica grind her teeth.

"I don't know," he repeated quickly. "Let me think about it for a while."

Later that afternoon, after depositing a rather surly Jessica at her home,
Bobby and Trent drove in quiet for a while. Trent seemed to be
concentrating more on his driving than usual, and he had not even sworn
once during the ride. Bobby stared out the front window. He knew a
three-man push when he saw it, and he was certain Jessica had engineered
the entire event in the debate club. It struck him as odd that Jason
Brinker would be a willing accomplice. Matt Higgins appeared to be part of
the plot since he had been the first to venture the question as to whether
Bobby was going to debate the question. Bobby was not alone in thinking
about the circumstances of the afternoon.

"She dogged you, bro," Trent mumbled.

"Really? What gave it away?" Bobby asked sarcastically.

"Brinker," his friend said flatly. "Just like she used him to get you to
join."

"Man, Trent..."

"Don't bullshit me, Bobby," Trent snapped at him. "You think I'm the only
who knows how you feel about Jason?"

Bobby creased his eyebrows in agitation. Was nothing secret? Next he
wondered if he was that transparent. If that were the case, then even Jason
would know what he was feeling and thinking half the time. Bobby felt a bit
humiliated.

"He's not gay," Trent piped up.

"Yeah, I know."

"But I think he does like you... as a friend."

It was small consolation for Bobby.

"So, ah, you gonna take on the debate?" Trent asked the one outstanding,
unanswered question.

Bobby did not answer. He was still thinking, and he thought less of the
idea the more he thought about it. However, he could not find a graceful
way to select his preferred option.

"Well?" His friend barked after several long seconds.

"Would you?" Bobby retaliated.

"I'm not gay!"

"What difference does that make?"

"All the difference," Trent said sharply. "I know it, everyone else knows
it, and so do you. Why'd you think Jason tossed it out there?"

"'Cause I thought he wanted to debate it," Bobby replied unconvincingly.

"He probably will if you don't, but I kind of get the idea they're waiting
to see if you'll pull up to the blue line."

"God! Trent! Why'd I do this whole debate thing?"

"'Cause you were thinking with your dick."

It was one point he could not refute. Bobby decided it was time to be
honest.

"I don't know how she did it," he said quietly, "but she got Jason to call
me over the summer."

"I'll hold her while you gut punch her a couple of times!"

Bobby laughed. Trent snickered dangerously. There was a sense he was not
entirely joking. Bobby brushed it aside.

"So, like, would you do it if you were me?" Bobby returned to his original
counter-question.

"Bobby, listen... you're one mean-ass goalie. I mean you can take it and
dish it out like nobody's business... I guess maybe you should. Dover's been
high sticking you for a long time, and maybe it's time you showed her
you're not a punk," his friend stated cautiously.

Trent knew him too well, Bobby thought. His friend has used the right
combination of hockey lingo and a challenge to his sense of pride. Trent
was casting it as type of game Bobby could understand. The analogy of
Alicia Dover high sticking him was most effective.

I, um... I'll do it if, ah, you help me," Bobby stammered out the condition.

"Christ! Ain't it bad `nough you got me into this stupid debate thing?"

"Trent, come on. You can't be saying you wouldn't like to crush Dover
against the boards, are you?"

Bobby had calculated Trent's reaction, and formulated a corresponding
response. Trent has laid the groundwork, and Bobby was doing nothing more
than following the path. He waited for an answer.

"You're a dick," Trent grumbled.

Bobby took it as an affirmative answer.

It was not until the end of the week before Bobby committed himself to
decision. He had to test Trent first to see if his friend was actually
going to lend assistance. Neither one of them let any of their friends in
on the decision. He was not certain why, but Bobby felt this was something
he had to complete on his own. He also did not want Jessica needling him,
although she did when he would not relent and announce his decision. The
longer he listened to Jessica, the more he tried to figure out her reasons
for putting so much pressure on him. It did not seem entirely logical to
him. Before he could take the time to drill Jessica for information, Bobby
had to build up the nerve to speak with Ms. Lauren. He chose Friday, the
day after the last official club bi-weekly meeting, and the lunch hour as
the appointed time.

"Ms. Lauren?" Bobby said while standing outside her classroom door. The
woman was eating alone and looking over papers. He felt as if he was
intruding.

"Hi, Robby," she said while looking up. "Need something?"

"Um... kind of, I think."

Ms. Lauren waved a hand as an invitation for Bobby to enter to the room. He
walked to her desk. She stared at him patiently. He studied her lunch.

"I, ah, was kind of, you know, thinking `bout the debate club and all,"
Bobby began tentatively.

"You're not thinking about dropping out?" She queried.

"Nah, nothing like that. Besides, Jessica would beat me down pretty hard if
I even tried," he admitted with a grin.

"Ms. Mankowski can be quite forceful," Ms. Lauren rejoined slyly.

"You're telling me?" Bobby asked with a roll of his eyes.

"Well, since we know you're staying in the club, what is it that you need,
Robby?"

"Bobby," he told her for the umpteenth time, "and... I was kind of
thinking... It's like hockey!"

Ms. Lauren stared at him in bewilderment.

"See, it's like being in the crease, you know. You got all these guys
charging at you, busting butt to slam one around you. Forward and two
wingmen circling `round, sliding the puck between `em, just waiting for you
to get psyched out and do something stupid, and it's like..."

"Robby! Robby! What does hockey have to do with this?" Ms. Lauren inquired
when the young man failed to reach any significant point.

"I, um, see... I'm used to guarding, you know? I'm a goalie," Bobby rambled
on a bit more.

"I know that, and the point is?"

"The point... is... I guess it's like being a goalie... I think."

"What is like being a goalie?" The woman asked with a touch of
exasperation.

"This whole debate thing," he answered.

"How?"

"You know... the question... the debate!"

"Which one?" Ms. Lauren queried pointedly. "We've got five competition
questions and eight club questions. Which one, Robby?"

"You know... the one Jason brought up," he said quietly. "That one."

"And?" She questioned slowly.

"I, ah... um, well, I think, you know, maybe I should, like, you know, take
a side on it," he struggled to say and sound coherent.

Ms. Lauren continued to gaze at him with questioning eyes.

"The, ah, side that's like, you know, not saying it's special rights or
anything like that... you know... for gay people," he rambled along.

"So you're opposed to the supposition in the question?" Ms. Lauren asked
more formally.

"If you're saying I'm against it, then, ah, yeah... I guess."

"You don't sound entirely convinced."

Bobby shrugged and looked at her.

"Robby, do you hold a strong opinion on the question?" She pressed on.

"I sort of have to, you know," Bobby replied circumspectly.

"No, Robby, you don't have to. No one has to hold a specific opinion on
anything simply because of a group affiliation," she told him
slowly. "Robby, part of the goal of the debate club, forensics, is to make
us think about issues in a broader context. If the question becomes to
personal, then we are unable to apply logical arguments either for or
against. I don't want you to take a position just because you feel your
personal circumstances are compelling."

"What's the point then if we don't have something riding on it?" He
challenged. "I mean... look, I don't go into a hockey game thinking I'm just
practicing. I go in to win. I want to win, and it is personal. It's the
reason why I do it most of the time."

"I can appreciate the similarities you are trying to infer, but a debate is
not exactly like a hockey game. The skills are different. There are a
number of subtle tricks a person can use to, um... throw you off your
game. If they know you have a personal stake in the question, then whoever
you're debating is going to try and get to you on a personal level."

"And some guy taking a slap shot at your head isn't any different,
Ms. Lauren?"

Student and teacher looked at one another for a moment. Bobby realized he
was debating with her. They had, he understood, established a premise that
debate and hockey were too dissimilar to be an effective comparison. Bobby
disagreed with Ms. Lauren's position. He thought there were a number of
good similarities.

"Are you telling me you want to challenge Jason's question because it is
personal?" She asked quietly.

Bobby did not respond immediately. There were a number of reasons why he
thought he should debate the question, but the truly personal one had been
proffered by Trent: people would assume he was incapable of effectively
taking a stance and defending the position because it was personal. He
inhaled slowly.

"Every question is personal, Ms. Lauren. Doesn't matter what it is... even
when I don't understand it: it's always personal," he told her in an oddly
disconnected voice. "Yeah, I want to debate against it `cause it's wrong. I
gotta cover the net on this one, and I'm doing it for me."

Ms. Lauren nodded her head a few times, and then said, "All right, I'll
write you in speaking con on the question."

"Okay... good," Bobby stated, and it was in an effort to be convincing that
he was doing the right thing.

"I'll let the class know we have one spot filled."

Bobby walked out of the room wondering if he had been duped into accepting
the debate. Jessica had pressured him into joining the club, with the
unconfirmed assistance of Jason Brinker, and then by Jason Brinker raising
the topic for debate. The only aspect about which he seemed certain was
that Trent would help him. Trent was just as unwilling as he, yet it
appeared they were destined to tackle the task together. As Bobby wandered
the hallways and avoiding the lunchroom, being none to keen to face even
more pressure, as he thought about what lay ahead. It would not be easy for
hockey player to go up against a skilled debater, and it did not matter if
Alicia Dover was his opponent or not. Even Trent could probably trounce
him, he thought. Bobby tried to steer clear of his friends so he could mull
over his predicament. However, an inadvertent meeting with Tammy Leverling
forced him to spill out the truth.

"At least Jessica will be happy," Tammy told him after he confessed to what
he done during lunch.

"And that's supposed to make me happy?" Bobby asked drolly.

"Sheesh, Bobby, you know she's only trying help you."

"Some help," he muttered.

The round-faced young woman stared at him with a hard glint in her
eyes. Tammy was very mild mannered by all accounts. Yet those who had seen
her get angry knew not to push Tammy too far. She was charming and sweet,
in Bobby's estimation, and a wonderful friend, but she had limits. Jessica
and Trent were the only recipients of her ire as far as he knew, and what
he saw was not pretty. Tammy could be bluntly honest and tart-tongued when
her hackles were raised. She had verbally eviscerated Jessica and Trent the
previous school year, and neither seemed too predisposed to bring out that
side of Tammy again. Bobby was glad it had not been him, but at that moment
he sensed it could be his turn.

"Tammy... it's not that. I know what she's trying to do, and maybe she's
right, but, you know, I don't think this is something I need to be
pushing. If you know what I mean," he followed up quickly.

"Bobby, I listened to how hard you fought to stay on the hockey team, and I
can't see how this is any different," she rejoined quietly.

"I'd kill to play hockey!"

"But not for your own dignity in the halls?"

Bobby looked away from her. The statement had not been delivered in
frustration or rancor, but carried instead a sense of pity. Bobby hated
being pitied. He never asked for it on the ice during practice or a game,
and he did not want his friends doling it out to him either.

"You can be the nicest guy in the world, Bobby, but no one is going to give
you any respect unless you demand it... and are willing to fight for
it. That's what Jess has been trying to tell you for over a year," Tammy
continued in the same gentle voice. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure," Bobby said quietly.

"When you came out, and I know you didn't want to, I thought it was the
bravest thing I'd ever seen you do. Then you kept on playing hockey with
all those guys calling you names and taking cheap shots at you. You made
Trent think different about you, and that's saying something," Tammy listed
his accomplishments with a shared sense of pride.

"Yeah."

"That's why I don't get why you don't want to do this. Even if you don't go
up against Alicia, she'll still have to hear what you say... and so will
everyone else. Bobby, this is your chance to make people think
differently... like you did with Trent."

"I guess," Bobby mumbled.

"Don't guess: just do it. And do it good! You don't think you can, but
you're wrong. Think of it like a game. Hold `em back and guard your goal."

"Net," he corrected her.

"Whatever," Tammy grumbled at him. "You get what I'm saying?"

He did. The disconnect between what he was willing to do to play hockey and
what he was unwilling to do for himself in his daily life was becoming
clearer each time he talked to another person. Bobby had fought hard to
retain his place on the team. He beat back anyone who even tried to tell
him to leave. Letting himself become unhinged during practice and games had
proved the point to some people, regardless of the number of times he sat
in the penalty box or was benched by the coach for an excessive use of
force. Bobby's junior year had been not as punishing as his sophomore year,
and already a few of his teammates were talking to him about the upcoming
senior season. Bobby had, through brute force and iron will, bludgeoned a
niche for himself on the team. He was respected by most of his teammates
for his sheer guts and tenacity. What mattered most to Bobby, far and above
what his teammates actually thought of him, was that he was going to play
first-string as the starting goalie. The thoughts were plaguing him long
after he and Tammy ended their chat and went to the final class of the
day. One notion hit him as he trundled out the parking after school, in
search of either Trent or Mike Cousins.

"What about after the season?" Bobby inquired in a whisper.

Robert Arnor decided debating could be handled in the same fashion as
hockey. He had to hit hard and fast, and refuse to let up regardless of
whatever was thrown at him. When Miss Lauren announced his decision to the
club, there was a simultaneous gasp and sigh. Bobby could not tell who was
relieved or who was surprised. No one volunteered that afternoon to speak
in favor of the question, and he was certain whoever would was going to
make the decision in private as he had done. Bobby was not given the chance
to worry about who he would face. Jessica, Sue, Jason and Matt, along with
a plainly disgruntled Trent, offered to lend him whatever assistance he
needed. The thought of spending time alone with Jason Brinker made Bobby's
head spin. It did not matter if Jason was heterosexual: just being near him
was good enough for Bobby. Thus, the great push to turn Robert Arnor into a
debater commenced. Jessica and Trent naturally took to playing the devil's
advocate role. Sue and Matt were Bobby's primary debate coaches, and Jason
was his research assistant. Mike and Tammy also lent a hand whenever they
could. It turned out to be a team effort, and Bobby was going to be playing
the point man.

"Past legal precedent does hold up well under current attitudes," Jason
said in the public library one evening. The five others sitting with him,
pouring over books, looked up. "Seriously. You read the old sodomy laws,
and their laughable. Who cares what two consenting adults are doing with
each other?"

"A lot of people care," Sue told him flatly. "I'll give you there have been
a few serious advancements, but there's a lot of backlash going on right
now. Bobby, what do you think of same-sex marriages?"

Bobby lifted his eyes in surprise. He glanced around. Jason, Jessica,
Trent, Matt and Sue were waiting for him to reply. A funny feeling rose up
in his stomach, and it forced him to look down.

"Never, ah, really thought about it, um, you know, like before or
anything," he mangled his response.

 "Never?" Jessica asked him incredulously.

Bobby shook his head to confirm the question.

"Why not?" Trent inquired with too much interest. Bobby instantly became
suspicious.

"Who're you thinking `bout marrying?" He answered with a question.

"At least I get to think about who, but what do you do?"

Trent had met him head on.

"Nothing."

His five friends were looking at him with a series of mixed
reactions. Bobby let his eyes drift back down to the page he was attempting
to decipher. The language was too confusing for him to understand all at
once.

"You've ever been on a date?" Sue cautiously inquired.

Bobby swung his head from side to side.

"Then how do you know you're even gay?" Jason asked bluntly.

"Who do you dream about when you're alone?" Bobby queried without looking
up.

"Good point," Trent grunted.

"You ever... you know... ever think about... girls... like that?" Matt
stuttered.

Bobby swung his head from side to side once more. His eyes remained fixed
on the page, although they were not taking in the words. An awkward,
creeping sensation was crawling up his spine. He did not like the direction
the conversation was taking.

"It's gotta be biological in nature," Jessica suddenly said very
loudly. "Can't be anything else."

"If it is, then gay people are covered. Even though it's never been
explicitly stated," Jason said thoughtfully, "the Civil Rights movement of
the nineteen-fifties and sixties laid the framework for anti-discrimination
laws regarding genetic traits. It's against the law to discriminate because
of a condition that's outside the control of the individual. The ADA is all
over that!"

"What's that?" Trent asked.

"American's with Disabilities Act."

"No way," Matt piped up. "The last thing we'd want to do is equate
homosexuality with retardation or other physical deformities. The object is
to say that being gay is part of the natural human condition, not some
abnormality."

"Totally!" Sue concurred.

"The only problem is there's no real scientific evidence saying a gay
person was genetically designed that way," Jessica countered.

"It was... what?" Matt mumbled and grabbed a book from the table. "'72 or
'73 when the American Psychiatric Association removed homosexuality as a
mental disorder."

Bobby listened as his friends dove headlong into the issues surrounding
homosexuality. He felt as if he were being dissected in some bizarre
experiment. All the talk made him feel like a thing and not a person. A
piece of his humanity was being stripped away as his life was bandied about
with scientific curiosity. It was making Bobby angry.

"What?" Trent asked and nudged him with an elbow.

"It's like I'm in a zoo, and you're all poking and prodding at me," he
replied in a low tone.

"Bobby, no, it's not like that," Sue immediately rebutted, but her voice
was compassionate. "We have to look at the issues. I know it seems kind
of... sterile to be talking about it like this, but..."

"But this is my life you're talking about," Bobby cut her off. "This is
what I live every day. It's not some subject for me to debate: it's my
life. How would you feel if you were sitting with a bunch of gay people and
they were talking about how you felt about people like you're doing to me?"

Silence dropped over them.

"What's your take on it, Bobby?" Jason inquired quietly.

"Why do people get their panties all bunched up over this? Huh? What does
my personal life have to do with anyone else's?"

"People have strong opinions about this. You do know that?" Jessica asked
him coolly.

"Look, reverse the situation for a second. What if gay people were the
majority? How would you feel if people were always saying you should be
treated like... like... a disease or something? That what you are is wrong,
and you deserve to get treated like shit? What would that do to you?"

Bobby audibly snapped his mouth closed with his last question. He tried not
to glare, but he could not help it. Each face he looked upon was a mask of
seriousness. These people, he suddenly realized, were taking what he said
with gravity. Bobby had turned the tables. The academic subject for others
suddenly became less of a mental form of gymnastics.

"That's pretty good," Trent whispered.

"Yeah, it is," Matt agreed.

"One problem," Jessica added.

Everyone waited.

"The hypothetical nature of the argument does nothing to answer the
question of whether gay people are asking for special rights."

"What's so special about asking just to be left alone and being treated
decently? It's what everyone else expects. Isn't it?" Bobby jumped on her
statements.

"I think we have a debater," Sue muttered and smiled.

"Master... debater," Trent followed up quickly.

Bobby punched him in the arm while the other broke out laughing. As Trent
rubbed his bicep, the mood around the table shifted. Bobby could sense
it. The question was no longer personal for only him: it has been expanded
to encompass all of them. The damn broke, and the studying took on a
fevered pitch. Over the course of the next week, they began to build their
arguments. Matt and Sue rehearsed with Bobby. Trent and Jessica were
merciless in tearing apart whatever he said. Bobby got very irate on
several occasions, and he was warned that was exactly what the other side
would do. The weekend came and went. Bobby was up to his armpits in books
and papers. His parents, brother and sisters were agog. The family had been
uneasy with Bobby's declaration of his sexuality, but they were learning to
adjust their thinking. They watched him as he struggled to define the
question for the debate club. At the same time, Bobby was unaware that he
was also defining himself. School resumed, and with it came the first of
the bi-weekly debate club meetings. Bobby's head was stuffed full of facts
and arguments that he almost missed an important segment of the meeting.

"All right," Ms. Lauren said and called them to order. "Today Pat and
Denise are going to debate the question about restructuring post-driver
education laws."

Pat Weimer and Denise Neilson shifted in their seats.

"Before they begin, I need the three people who signed up to speak
supporting the gay rights question to decide which one of them is going to
actually do the presentation," Ms. Lauren explained. "We've already got the
person speaking against, so we've got to decide who will be debating with
Robby."

"Bobby," Bobby mumbled.

Ms. Lauren ignored him as she walked to the back of the room. One boy and
two girls had stood, Alicia Dover among them, and formed a small knot
around a desk. Ms. Lauren joined them. A steady stream of hissing whispers
issued from the group, but it was unintelligible to Bobby. He had to wait
along with the rest of the class for the final announcement. A few minutes
later, Ms. Lauren turned around and surveyed the class.

"Alicia Dover will be debating the question with Robby," she told the
assembled.

"No surprise there," Jessica said dourly.

Bobby had dared to glance up during the announcement and saw the smug
expression on Alicia's face. He swallowed hard against the tumult of
emotions the look espoused in him. Bobby's hockey instincts took over, and
he toyed with the idea of slashing her in the knee with his goalie
stick. However, he was quite certain he would not be allowed to brandish
his preferred weapon during the debate. Sue and Matt had been wrestling
with Bobby to keep his emotions in check lest he hand the advantage to his
opponent. Over the course of time the group was studying the question, they
resorted with greater frequency to sport analogies, hockey in particular,
to help Bobby gain some perspective on what he would encounter. It did
wonders for Bobby. The concepts were easier for him to grasp. Trent was
having a grand time doing everything in his power to antagonize Bobby. It
was during one session that the name-calling began.

"Fag!" Trent said bluntly during lunchtime training period.

"WHAT?" Bobby roared and jumped to his feet while curling his fingers into
a fist.

"I said," Trent replied calmly, "fag!"

Bobby could feel his cheeks heating up.

"Least you're not gonna breed mutant children like he is," Mike Cousins
retorted as he pulled on Bobby's sleeve to hold him back.

"Hey!" Trent grunted with ire. "This is part of getting him ready!"

"I don't think Dover is going to resort to insulting him, Trent," Jessica
chimed in. "Against the rules, if you'd care to read them."

Trent crossed his arms and sat back in the chair.

"And Mike is right: you is gonna have some butt-ugly rug rats when you get
around to it," she added snidely.

The tete-de-tete over personal insults began between Bobby and Trent. It
became a private joke for them, even though many others found it
reprehensible. In a unique fashion, it let Bobby know Trent was truly his
friend. Trent had asked for latitude, and he received it. In return, Bobby
was assured of Trent's loyalty. Few understood the mechanics of the
relationship, yet it worked for the two. The odd name game they enjoyed
with one another had a proven benefit: Bobby learned to listen to an
insult, analyze it, and then pick it apart. It robbed the name-caller of
the fun of watching someone get angry. It was a valuable lesson, and Bobby
began to use it regularly with those who still thought it worthwhile to
personally insult him. Few people were willing to stand around and listen
while Bobby methodically and slowly dismembered the insult. There were a
couple of occasions when he bored himself nearly to death, but the ploy was
effective. He was beginning to appreciate some of the side benefits of
belonging to the debate club.

The next club meeting revealed the timetable for the various debates. Bobby
was given two more weeks to prepare, and with the three already behind him,
he was starting to believe he would actually stand a chance against Alicia
Dover. The group helped him prepare, while he did what he could to help
with their debates, and they came to depend on one another. It was a odd
mix of friends for Bobby, especially since he could not quite get over his
feelings about Jason Brinker. He tried to suppress it, but there were times
when he caught himself staring at Jason and daydreaming. Jason, for his
part, did not seem overtly bothered by the attention. Bobby realized Jason
was being polite, and he privately vowed to monitor his behavior when
around his much needed friend. Jessica, Sue and Matt were also
invaluable. Trent took on the role of the hardheaded driving force. Bobby
had learned to deflect Trent's insults so deftly that it was no longer part
of their training. Tammy and Mike, when they were of the mind, would sit in
to watch the performances. Their presence proved fortuitous.

"I was thinking," Mike said one evening when everyone was gathered at the
Arnor residence. "Most of the stuff I hear people complain about has a lot
to do with religion. What if Alicia goes off on some bible-thumping spree?"

Matt looked at Jessica. Sue glanced at Tammy. Bobby, Trent and Jason
exchanged looks. That aspect had been completely overlooked. Mike stared at
all of them.

"Come on! You know she's gonna bring it up!" Mike chastised the group.

"She will," Jessica growled. "The so-called Judeo-Christian foundation of
the country."

"Separation of church and state," Matt countered.

"It's not codified," Sue reminded him. "It was an afterthought by
Jefferson."

"Traditional family values is used to gloss over that anyway," Tammy
mentioned absent-mindedly.

"First Amendment," Jason stated and looked around. "If she brings up
religion, we have that to fall back on."

"Can I use your computer, Bobby?" Mike asked quickly.

"Sure," Bobby consented, but his mind was turning over the implications of
the new twist in the debate.

The group talked quietly about how Bobby should approach the religious
question. It was a tricky problem because, whether he intended it or not,
he could end up being insulting to everyone listening to him. No one
believed dismissing religion would do him any service. All of them thought
Alicia Dover was bound to make it part of the issue, and it could be a
potent weapon. Jessica, Jason and Sue were applying the best part of their
minds to the situation when Mike came bounding back into the family, where
they were sprawled out, grinning wickedly. He held out several sheets of
paper toward Bobby. Bobby took them, and started to read. Within moments,
he was chuckling.

"Where'd you get this?" He asked his friend in grateful awe.

"I saw it a couple of months ago. It's been floating around the `Net for a
while. Besides, I think that doctor lady is a total skank `ho," Mike
informed him cheerfully.

It only took a few seconds before everyone was gathered around Bobby
reading over his shoulder or whatever angle they could manage. Soon, they
were all laughing. Mike Cousins had found a powerful source for
counter-arguments. Jason warned Bobby not to make a mockery of religion,
but to use the information as a means to show that some modes of biblical
law application were completely outdated. Bobby took Jason's advice to
heart. He would simply present the new evidence without any humor or
levity. Even with the facetious element removed, the facts were compelling.

Trent was relentless in his self-appointed role. Bobby could not explain
why, but there was something very personal at stake for Trent. Had he not
known his friend as well as he did, Bobby would have begun to question
Trent's heterosexual assertions. As the second to last week before the
debate wore away, the motivation became clear. Trent detested Alicia Dover
more than any other person alive. It took careful wheedling on Bobby's
part, but he learned that Trent and Alicia had dated briefly. Their breakup
was, from what could be learned, amicable. However, the remnants of their
friendship decayed rapidly when Trent did not immediately side with Alicia
against Bobby when the truth was revealed. Bobby understood without needing
to ask that a good portion of Trent's early hostility had centered on the
incident. It made the friendship dearer for him: Trent had personally
suffered to remain his friend. Trent's loyalty, albeit antagonistic at
times, had never truly wavered. It had been put to the test, and Bobby had
emerged the victor. New fuel was added to his desire to lay waste to
whatever arguments Alicia Dover had planned. Bobby was no longer fighting
for himself: he was engaged in a battle for all of those who had remained
true to him. He was beginning to understand why Jessica had pushed him to
join the debate club.

As mentally tired as he was from the constant studying, both for the club
and for his regular schoolwork, Bobby could not sleep the night before the
debate was to commence. He tossed and turned in his bed for several hours
before he got up and wandered into the kitchen. After fetching a glass of
milk, he sat at the kitchen table staring out the window into the
darkness. Even when the milk was gone, Bobby continued to look out into a
world shrouded in shadow. There came a point when his mind disgorged itself
of what had been keeping him awake: Bobby was nervous and afraid of failing
his friends. They had put so much effort into preparing for this moment
that he was a bit panicky about making mistakes; yet he knew he would. It
was destined to happen since he was venturing into a sport he did not fully
understand. Bobby felt real doubt nudging aside all the facts crammed into
his head. He was considering returning to bed when the floor creaked behind
him. He turned and saw his father walking toward.

"Everything all right?" His father asked.

"Just nervous `bout tomorrow," Bobby admitted.

"I'd think with all you've done over the last couple of weeks you'd be more
than ready."

"Dad, I never done this before... and I really don't know what I'm doing,"
he said, making another confession.

"Then why'd you even get involved?" His father questioned as he sat down at
the table.

Bobby looked across the table. He thought of a thousand excuses he could
give his father, yet the seemed entirely too weak to stand up to
scrutiny. The time spent with friends both old and new had changed his
reasons. There was only one now, and it was not easily explained.

"I could tell you Jess made me do it," Bobby said quietly.

"She got it started, but..." his father replied and trailed off, leaving the
query unspoken.

"But it's different now. It's like I never really thought about what it all
meant... to me or anyone else. This whole sexuality thing, it's weird."

"It was a little strange for us."

"It still is, dad."

"Maybe," his father rejoined with a nod of his head. "All the years I
watched you grow up, playing hockey... it was a father's dream."

"So, I let you down?" Bobby inquired darkly.

"No, I wouldn't say that. Bobby, it just seemed so... unimaginable to me,
and to the rest of the family. There was nothing about you at all, even
when you were young, that hinted you might be gay. You were all boy..."

"I still am!"

"I'm not criticizing you, son," his father told him with an edge in his
voice. "You were a model kid. Heather, Jimmy and Teresa look up to you. You
never really caused any problems, and you so damn good out on the ice. When
you told us... it was like it came out of nowhere."

"I didn't act gay, so you thought I wasn't?" He questioned, but with more
respect.

"That's one way to look at it."

"What's the other way?"

His father sat back in the chair and sighed. Bobby thought he looked older
and very tired. The past two years had been a strain on the entire
family. It was never an outright battle, but the undercurrents had been
extremely tense. Some conversations were completely avoided. Any talk of
marriage or grandchildren had evaporated, at least in front of him. Bobby
felt excluded from the family at times, but there was no single incident he
could point to prove it. It was simply a subconscious awareness. He stared
at his father wondering what the man honestly thought.

"A parent hopes and dreams for the best for their children, and then one
small thing comes along and changes the rules," his father said
quietly. "Suddenly it's a different playing field. I didn't understand the
rules. Hell, I didn't even understand the game."

"It's not a game, dad: it's my life," Bobby muttered.

"I know that, and that's where being a parent has limitations. I can't tell
you how to act or behave. I can't give you any hints or instructions on
what you're going to face. I'm just as lost as you are, and it's a hard
spot to be in, Bobby. Half the time I'm scared to death for you, and the
other times... I'm mad at God `cause of what happened."

Bobby sat up, felt his face hardening, and spoke sternly, "Do you realize
you just said God made a mistake with me? Do you know what that says about
how you think about me? Am I that much of a disappointment to you that you
have to blame God?"

"No, and I think we could both do without the patronizing attitude," his
father called him up short. "Bobby, we still love you..."

"You don't have to. There's no law or rule that says you do."

"Don't think you're giving me any alternatives," the man responded crossly
and leaned forward. "Yes, it's been hard, pretty damn hard sometimes, but I
never once stopped loving you. Neither did your mother. Do you know how
powerless we feel most of the time with you?"

Bobby narrowed his eyes. This was a new revelation about his parents he
never considered. He sat mute and waited to hear more.

"It's not too different from how you feel with this whole debate club," his
father continued in a calmer tone. "Bobby, we didn't have any frame of
reference. We didn't know what to expect with you, and we felt so damn
helpless. We watched what you went through in hockey... and I've got to say
I was very proud of you. You didn't give up. You're a fighter, and it made
me feel even more useless. You took on that battle with such determination,
and there was nothing I could to help you. You were on your own... and that
got to me."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Bobby asked in a hurt voice. "Why
couldn't we sit down and just talk. You and mom... everybody acted like it
was something we couldn't discuss. Why?"

"What could we say that wouldn't give you the wrong impression?" The man
asked, but did not wait for an answer. "At the worst you would have felt
abandoned, like we gave up on you. At the best... you'd think we were
bigots... because we didn't understand. We tried, Bobby! Your mother and I
talk about it all the time..."

"But you could've talked to me!"

"That was probably our worst mistake. We listened to you and Trent argue
about you, and we didn't want it to come to that with us. I just didn't
want your life to become one endless argument," his father said, and sorrow
tainted his voice. "I'm actually jealous about Trent: he knows you like I
don't. We made mistakes, Bobby. Your mother and I made some very poor
choices about what to do with and for you. I could sit here all night
apologizing, but it wouldn't change the past. We both know that."

"So this is how it's gonna be? We're just gonna be strangers until I go
away?" Bobby inquired, and the hurt rang loudly in his voice.

"No," the man said in the same tone. "Not if I can help it. Watching you
and your friends struggle with this debate, watching them treat you like
they do... it made us feel pretty small. Those kids really like you, and it
doesn't matter to them that you're gay. They see it as being just a part of
who you are... and that's what the rest of have to learn. We're trying,
Bobby. After seeing everything Trent and Jessica...and the others are
willing to do for you, your family knows what we have to do now."

Bobby was doubtful. It was etched across his face.

"We are going to try, Bobby, and you're going to have to help us. We never
gave up on you. Maybe it didn't show, but we didn't. Please, don't give up
on us. This is something we have to do together... as a family. It won't
work if you back out."

Bobby's eyebrows drew together.

"If you're angry, I can't blame you. You..." and his father paused for a
moment. "You never flaunted it. You didn't make a show out of it. You're
the same child we've always known. It blinded us, Bobby. We let one small
thing get in the way... and we couldn't see around it. Bobby, do you know
what had the most impact on us?"

"No," he answered quietly.

"The education we go from listening in on you and your friends. You showed
us where to start, and you didn't even know it. Son, I've been awfully
proud watching you play hockey, but I think I'm more proud of what you're
doing now."

Bobby watched his father's mouth turn into a small smile.

"Jessica bullied you into doing this, I know she did," his father said and
smiled more. "We all know what she's like, and you're damn lucky to have
her as a friend. Your mother, me, your brother and even your sisters
benefited from you knowing her. We heard. We listened. It's going to
change. It won't happen overnight, but it is going to change. I promise you
that, son."

"I hope so," Bobby murmured.

"You won't believe it until you see it, and I understand that. Just
remember to give us one more chance. If you don't, then nothing will
change... and I don't think you want that any more than we do."

Bobby nodded his head. He did want the situation to change. High school
would end for him in less than a year, but his family would continue for
the rest of his life. It troubled him to think he would gradually drift
away from them. Bobby did not want that to happen. They were his family
and, if his father was speaking truly, there was hope.

"You have an important day tomorrow," his father stated and stood up. "Try
to get some sleep."

"Yeah, in a little bit," Bobby replied.

He watched his father walked around the table and aim for the
hallway. Before the man could fully depart from the room, Bobby's mind
sprang into action. There was one item left to say.

"Dad," he called out softly. His father stopped and turned around. "Dad...
thanks. I, um... I think we need to talk more often... like this. You know?"

"I really know that now, Bobby. We will, and it'll get better."

His father smiled one last time, turned, and disappeared into the dark
corridor. Bobby sat at the table. It was not relief that coursed through
him, but a sense a threshold had been crossed. He and his father had
talked. It was significant for all the directness it lacked. Yet it was a
start, and Bobby counted it as win. The discourse with his father robbed
made the impending debate seem less frightening. He had never considered
the fact he was afraid to talk with his family. Jessica's persistence had
paid off more than she realized, and he could not wait to tell her. In the
end, he was glad he had resisted the countless urges to pummel Jessica with
a book. Bobby got up from his seat, placed the glass in the sink, turned
off the lights, and went in search of whatever sleep he could find. The
butterflies in his stomach reminded him of the nights before a big game. As
he wandered back to his room, he acknowledged he was about to engage in one
of the most important games of his young life.

Bobby awoke the next morning feeling fuzzy. The world seemed a bit surreal
to him. His mind constantly fended off the doubts that had assailed him the
night before. He was thrown off guard when his father, dressed for work,
entered the kitchen. Without a warning or a word, his father leaned over
and kissed Bobby on the forehead. The present members of the family watched
the small display with what amounted to curiosity. Jimmy, his brother,
glanced back and forth between them. Bobby shrugged, but he was grinning.
Bobby thought about the act of his father on and off throughout the day. It
made the day a bit more bizarre, but it was a good distraction. Lunchtime
with his friends was a subdued affair. They drilled him quietly over every
detail of the arguments he would make. Trent was armed with a stack of note
cards in a box as though it was made of gold. Written on each was a
reference to a specific point. It was Trent's job to feed Bobby the cards
during the debate. He would listen to the opposing side, and select the
best bits of information at their disposal. Bobby would then arrange his
rebuttals and statements accordingly. By the end of lunch, his mind felt
mushy. He made a valiant but vain attempt to forget about what was looming
closer with each passing second.

"Just be cool, and do what you've been training to do," Trent told him
after the remark about trying to change Bobby's sexuality while sitting in
the classroom waiting for Ms. Lauren to appear.

The club was quieter, tenser, that day than during previous meetings. It
was no secret Bobby had been working diligently, along with his friends, to
prepare for the debate. As a group, they had decided to ignore Alicia Dover
and whatever preparations she made. The goal was to seize the argument and
force her to debate against the facts. Bobby was attempting to draw
diagrams in his head, similar to hockey plays, which would help him achieve
the desired results. His stomach was bucking with each thought. He had
never been that queasy before a game, even when the team had reached the
regional finals.

"Block the net. Close the gap. Knees together. Stick down. Glove
ready. Watch for the wrist flick," he mumbled to himself.

"Hook her ankle," Trent muttered, and then snickered.

"If she starts to win, check her against the board!" Bobby instructed his
friend.

Trent's laughter boomed throughout the room. Ms. Lauren, who had entered
during Bobby's quiet litany, glanced over at them and smiled
encouragingly. She then surveyed the class. Bobby did as well. Several of
the club members were still watching Trent and him. Bobby put on his game
face, and smiled in a menacing fashion. A few people turned and whispered
hurriedly to Alicia Dover. She looked at Bobby. He repeated the smile. Her
face remained frozen like ice.

"Well, this is a day some of us have been looking forward to," Ms. Lauren
said with excitement. "We get to see some of our new members take on a
tough question against two seasoned debaters. I know you've all been
working very hard, so let's not wait."

There was a murmur that rippled through the room.

"Alicia and Brad," she said and waved a hand a little. "Speaking for the
question. Robby and Trent, speaking against. Come on up here folks."

Bobby and Trent stood and walked up to the table with two lecterns placed
on it. Next to each podium was a chair for the debate team second. Bobby
ignored his opponents as they strolled along behind them. All four took
their places. Bobby stared out at the classroom full of students, and his
mouth went dry. Alicia was chatting quietly with her second, Brad. He heard
a small thump as Trent let the box holding their information cards drop on
the table. Bobby glanced at his friend, who was grinning maniacally. Trent
was in his hockey mindset. It was a good idea, Bobby thought, and began to
steel himself against what was coming. He thought again of his father
kissing on the forehead, and the butterflies in his stomach calmed. It was
game time. Do or die.

Ms. Lauren walked up to the table. She held out a small, cloth sack. Bobby
stared at it. The woman jiggled it as if he was supposed to know what it
meant.

"Draw," she commanded him softly.

Bobby reached inside and pulled out a small slip of paper. Ms. Lauren then
walked over to Alicia who did the same, but did not require
prompting. Bobby felt as if he had made his first mistake. Alicia was
already reading her slip of paper and tiny grin curled her lips. Bobby read
his sheet. A single number two was scrawled on it.

"Speaking first is Alicia," Ms. Lauren said after Alicia held up the piece
of paper. "Begin."

"Thank you, Ms. Lauren," Alicia said primly. "Fellow students, the question
before us is whether the advancement of the rights of homosexuals equates
to special rights. We affirm this is true. Homosexuals have attempted to
cast themselves as a minority without benefit of a proven, defining
characteristic. They have pushed an agenda that most people find troubling
and, some will argue, is responsible for the moral decay of our
society. Advocating special rights for homosexuals will lead to the further
collapse of our culture. The rights they seek will grant them protections
not given to any other segment of society and will amount in creating a
privileged class. The rights they seek to capture for themselves are
exclusionary and, by virtue of that fact, render them unconstitutional on
the surface. We do not accord rights to pedophiles or rapists because their
practices are reprehensible and cannot be granted special status."

Bobby cringed inwardly. Sue had warned about the possibility that Alicia
would try to lump the gay community in with criminals. It had come to pass,
and it would be one of the focuses of the debate. Bobby did not want to
appear to be defending criminals in his arguments, and he wondered what
information Trent would feed him. He could hear his friend already rifling
through the stack of cards.

"The rights afforded to citizens in this country," Alicia continued, "are
given by shared, common consent. Laws protect the rights of individuals
because they apply to the vast majority of people. When a very small, very
vocal and socially objectionable group seeks protections under the United
States Constitution, it weakens the very foundation of our society. We
cannot tolerate a culture that will protect deviant lifestyles since it
will lead to a further corruption of our legal and social systems. The
question before us is important because once one degenerate group gets a
toehold in the legal system, it will open the door for others clamoring for
special protections. Thank you."

Alicia stepped back half a pace.

"Very interesting assertions, Alicia, and thank you for your opening
remarks," Ms. Lauren said in a neutral manner. "Robby, you may open now."

Bobby bit his tongue to halt himself from correcting the woman over his
name. He breathed in deeply once, and glanced down at his preliminary
notes. Sue and Matt had strenuously instructed him that he must deliver his
opening statements without addressing what was said or what he thought
would be said afterward. He scanned the printed words, swallowed once, and
began.

"S-Students of the d-debate club," he said hesitantly. "We are asked to
l-look at a question that affects all of us, and not j-just some of us. The
q-question hides another one underneath that really needs to be talked
a-about. Someone asking for his or her rights to be p-protected isn't
asking for special rights. They are asking for equal rights. The q-question
is kind of a trick `cause it's trying to hide the fact that rights are
rights, and it d-doesn't m-matter who's asking for them."

He paused and took a breath. The notion he was mangling his opening side of
the debate was foremost in his mind. Bobby concentrated on removing the
self-defeating thoughts. He relied on his hockey training to bolster his
spirits.

"When black Americans were marching for their equal rights, people were
saying all sorts of bad stuff. Black people were treated like second-class
citizens, and a lot of white people thought it should be that way. It's the
same with gays in this country. We... They're not asking for anything
special. All they're asking for is to be treated the same as everyone
else. It seems like this country needs some group of people to kick around,
and the g-gay community is sick of it. They didn't do anything wrong. They
were born that way. They didn't have no choice, and now people want to keep
treating `em like dirt for something they can't control. Gay p-people just
want to know the Constitution and all the laws apply to them the same way
it applies to everyone else. It's not special rights: it's equal
rights. Okay? Um, thanks."

Bobby followed suit and stepped back from the lectern.

"Well put, Robby, and thank you for your statements," Ms. Lauren told him
in the same controlled voice. He wished he had the same control. "We will
now enter the rounds of statement of fact and rebuttal. Alicia?"

"Thank you, Ms. Lauren."

Alicia then tapped her cards on the table. Bobby sneaked a peak at
Trent. Their assortment of cards was already in disarray. More than a few
were scattered around, and Trent was frantically searching through the
box. Bobby could not watch. It scared him.

"A lifestyle is not grounds for awarding special rights," Alicia said
confidently. "We cannot allow our nation to protect those who choose to
live in a manner that deviates from the social norm. Providing rights to
homosexuals would be akin to offering protections to people who wear their
hair cut in a certain manner. The choice a person makes does not qualify
him for preferential treatment. People must be held accountable for their
actions and cannot go begging the government to protect them when their
decisions upset the greater population. Those who chose a homosexual
lifestyle are fully aware that it is not accepted by the majority of people
in this country, and now they seek to stem the anger they have generated by
calling on the political process to protect them. It is this very act that
makes the agenda for homosexual rights a plea for special rights."

She paused and scanned the room. It had a dramatic effect, and Bobby
wondered if he could pull of the same tactic. He was trying not to listen
to her statements. Yet everything she was saying was beginning to grate on
him. It sounded logical, and that irritated him most of all. Bobby knew he
had to present an equally logical argument.

"You will most likely hear a hypothesis that homosexuality is genetically
encoded. However, I will remind the members of this club there is no
verifiable evidence to support the contention. Since there is a clear lack
of biological fact, homosexuals cannot resort to arguing their case on the
merits of genetic differentiation. This is what separates them from the
African-Americans or any other group that has a visible sign of biological
difference. Since it cannot be established that genes or chromosomes
control the outbreak of homosexuality, then the rights they seek are based
on a personal choice. The United States is not in a position to grant
special rights based on a personal decision. The homosexuals must realize
they have chosen to deviate from the status quo and, in doing so, cannot
demand special treatment. They are calling for a special exception to the
rules, not for rights."

Alicia Dover nodded her head slightly and moved away from the podium. Bobby
was staring at her. He was having serious doubts. Trent was not helping the
situation. His friend thrust a handful of cards at him. Bobby took them,
tried to arrange them, and stepped forward.

"Thank you, Ms. Dover," Ms. Lauren spoke evenly. "Robby, you may now
present your rebuttal."

"Oh," Bobby said, realizing he had been preparing to continue with his
opening statements. He shuffled the cards in his hands. After clearing his
throat once, he stepped closer to the lectern.

"Um, yeah, a lifestyle is something you choose," he said in the small
voice, "b-but you gotta wonder why anybody would decide to be something a
lot of people hate. It doesn't make a lot of sense. There, um, there've
been a few studies going on and...."

Robby flipped through the card hoping that Trent had done his job. He had.

"See, in this place called John Hopkins, they've been looking at the brains
of dead gay people."

There was a ripple of laughter. Bobby tried to ignore it. He had no idea
what he said that was funny.

"And, um, they've been seeing some differences in the brains," he continued
and tried to keep his voice from trembling. "They, ah... there's parts of
the brains that are developed differently. In the back of the brain, the
hippo... hype-oh... hippocamptus part, it's put together different. The
scientist guys don't know why or when it got started, but it is
different. So, see, then there's some proof that being gay isn't something
you choose. It's like something in the brain, and nobody can really control
how the brain builds up. But that really ain't what the question is about,
but it has something to do with it."

Bobby cleared his throat again.

"So, like, if everyone knows that being gay means you're gonna get treated
like dirt, I still gotta ask why anybody would, you know, choose to be that
way. It's like someone with brown eyes wishing they were blue or green or
whatever. You can wish all you want, but it isn't gonna change the color."

Bobby looked down at his cards. One caught his attention.

"I think Alicia is gonna try and tell you `bout some gay people that, like,
you know, changed, but it's a load of bull. Most of `em end up saying they
were faking. They acted straight and stuff so people wouldn't get down on
`em all the time. It's an act they're trying to pull off so people will
like them more. I mean, come on, how sad is it when you've got to choose to
act one way when you're brain is telling you you're something else? See,
the reason they think they've got to do that is `cause they know they'll
get treated worse. Gay rights is all about getting everyone to treat
everybody with some basic respect. That isn't special: it's just the decent
thing to do. Right?"

Bobby ran out of steam. He was not certain he had refuted what Alicia had
stated, but he hoped he got the main point across. He looked over at his
club advisor, and the retreated.

"Very... direct, Robby," Ms. Lauren told him. "Now, are you ready to state
your case?"

"Again?" He asked in confusion.

"Yes, what you just said was your rebuttal to Ms. Dover's assertions. It's
your turn to make your first main argument."

"Um, okay."

He paused, and Trent poked him with another deck of note cards. Bobby
grabbed them, dropped the used ones on the table, and looked around. The
class was focused on him, and it made him jittery again. It was not the
same as hockey. He had no real team to help at that point. Winning or
losing depended solely on his performance. Bobby had Trent on the sideline,
and the assistance given by his friends, but it all came down to his
presentation. He was nervous, and Bobby knew it was not a good way to
begin. It took a sharp nip on his inner lip to restore a small bit of order
to his mind. He looked down at his cards. The top one was in Trent's
handwriting. It contained a word of encourage and a directive to stick to
facts. Bobby wondered why Trent had given him the message. There was no
time to ask. He scanned the headings on the card, and then stepped up to
the podium.

"It, um... it didn't start with gay people," Bobby began. "The whole thing
goes all the way back to when this country was founded. W-When the
D-Declaration of Independence was being written up, they were arguing `bout
what to do about the slaves. You know, deciding it if we should keep the
s-slavery thing going. Some of the guys wanted to include it, and some
didn't... mostly the southerners, so they had to drop it. A lot of p-people
thought slavery was okay `cause they thought black people were stupid. See,
it d-didn't go away. It kept on getting worse `til we had a civil war about
it. And it wasn't just the African-Americans who were treated bad,
either. The Indians got royally screwed since the Europeans first showed
up."

There was some tittering in the class, and Bobby knew why. He was not
choosing his words well. He could not, however, let the distraction take
control.

"No, seriously. They lost almost everything: their land, their way of life,
and even their lives. White people called `em savages, but we kind of know
now who was really a savage. Even after the Civil War, the Indians still
had it rough. The Emancipation Proclamation didn't really include them. And
it was the same with the Fourteenth Amendment. Listen, there's something
really important in that amendment."

He cleared his throat and looked around the room again. All eyes were on
him, and this time he wanted their attention. Bobby was about to deliver
one of the most important pieces of his argument. He thought carefully and
read slowly so as to minimize any mistakes. He had also rehearsed it so
many times that he had it memorized.

"It goes like this: `No state shall make or enforce any law which shall
abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor
shall any state deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without
due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the
equal protection of the laws.' It also says something `bout this going for
everyone born here or who are made citizens. What you don't see is anything
that says it only applies to some people. It doesn't say gay people don't
get protections `cause part of the country doesn't like gays. Oh, wait!"

Bobby flipped through his cards and found a bit he liked.

"All right, listen here," he said earnestly. "There's these people in
Pennsylvania, called the Amish... yeah, I know most of you know who they
are, but they choose to live like they do and they get protected. They
didn't want to send their kids into war and they didn't `cause they were
conscious objectors. The laws protected them even though everyone thought
they were being traitors. And there's other groups of people of who don't
say the Pledge of Allegiance or stand and sing the national anthem, and
they're protected. Look, if you do any reading about this you find out all
sorts of groups get protections, and it all goes back to the Fourteenth
Amendment. It didn't say only some people get due process: it said everyone
gets it. That's all gay people are asking for, and there's nothing special
about it `cause it's been going on for a long time with a lot of different
people. Oh... oh..."

Bobby interrupted himself, and a few club members chuckled.

"Check this out. Women! Yeah, women spent a whole century fighting for all
sorts of rights. They didn't get the chance to vote `til about
nineteen-twenty. The woman sufferers...

"Suffragettes," Trent hissed at him.

"What Trent said," Bobby continued without missing a beat. He was
excited. He had facts, and the facts were giving him strength. "They went
to jail, had the government hassling them all the time, and they kept on
fighting for their rights. Every female in here owes it to them `cause they
stood up against unfair laws. They wanted their equal rights, just like gay
people do. I'm telling you, it's not a gay thing. It's an American
thing. We do it all the time. It's how we grow up as a country. I don't get
how anybody can't be down with that!"

Bobby stopped. He had no idea what else to say on that particular topic. He
silently moved away from the podium. When he handed the cards back to
Trent, his friend was grinning at him. Bobby felt as though he had made his
first accomplishment in the debate.

"Nice enthusiasm," Ms. Lauren said with a small grin. "After that rousing
bit, Alicia can now rebut."

"Thank you, Ms. Lauren," Alicia said tersely while she moved into
position. "Do not let the passion of the remarks blind you to the
facts. The Amish and Jehovah Witnesses are granted protection under the
First Amendment first, and the Fourteenth Amendment second. One of the
founding principles of this country was freedom of religion, and the groups
mentioned depended heavily on the First Amendment. Furthermore, the other
classes of people all share one significant element: they are each defined
by verifiable physical traits. African-Americans? Native Americans? Women?
Each of them is a distinct group with distinct physical
features. Homosexuals can neither depend on the First Amendment nor the
Fourteenth Amendment for the reasons stated earlier. There is no religion I
know of in the United States that advocates homosexuality or has it written
in the tenets. Thus, homosexuals cannot lawfully use the First or
Fourteenth Amendment as a shield."

Alicia paused for dramatic affect. The pause did nothing to help Bobby's
spirits. She had presented logical counter-points to the ones he raised,
and even he could not deny it. He waited to hear the extent of damage she
would do to his position.

"The Civil War was fought in part because a large group of people were
wrongly being held in bondage and servitude against their wills," Alicia
stated slowly. "Homosexuals are not held in bondage. They are not held in
servitude. They enjoy the same level of rights as every other citizen with
the exception of their chosen style of living. I must affirm again that
lifestyles cannot be granted special protection or the practitioner special
rights. There is no basis in United States common law for any type of
decree of that magnitude. African-Americans, Native-Americans and women
sued for their rights that were Constitutionally guaranteed because the
discrimination was levied against a biological characteristic. Find the
homosexual gene, and you will then find the means to sue for the same
protections."

The sound of her shoe heel striking the floor was like a nail being pounded
into the coffin of Bobby's statements. She deftly diced apart his arguments
with fluid ease. No matter the approach he took, Alicia seemed fully
capable of erecting solid barriers to his advancements. At the same time,
Bobby saw the Alicia was using the genetic argument regularly. He also got
the notion that her offensive tactic was also her defensive posture. Bobby
was wondering how he could put her on the defensive. He did not feel as
though he had adequate information. Ms. Lauren complimented Alicia on her
rebuttal, and turned to Bobby.

"We now begin the second round of presentation of fact, and you're up,
Robby."

Bobby was too stunned to take umbrage to name usage. He turned to
Trent. Trent was scowling and looking down at a rather thin assortment of
note cards. He glanced up at Bobby and smiled wanly. It was not
encouraging. One of their best arguments had been hacked to pieces. Trent
handed Bobby the cards. Bobby took them and approached the podium. He shot
a peek at the top card. Trent had written him another note. It advised him
to use the appeal to the humanity of others. Bobby thought they were
playing that game too early, but he had nothing else to work with at the
moment.

"Thanks," he said and nodded to Ms. Lauren. "Why do we have laws? What are
they for? Laws say something `bout people that ain't very nice, but we've
got to admit it. We're not nice to each other. We lie and rob and
cheat. We'll kill each other over stupid stuff. We've got laws so that we
have to basically treat each other okay most of the time. It doesn't mean
you have to like everyone, but you can't go around being mean just `cause
you think you've got the right to. See, that's part of what Alicia is
saying. She didn't really say it, I know, but it's kind of hidden in
there. Laws stop us from treating others really bad most of the time. We
got rules in school `bout not fighting or cheating on tests, and even
stealing stuff from other kids. Anyone who says gays don't deserve to have
their rights protected are really saying it should be okay to treat `em
like crap. People loose their jobs `cause they're gay, or can't find a
place to live `cause it's all right to discriminate against `em. They're
not allowed to adopt kids even when they really want to be parents `cause
other people think it'll mess up the kids. I said earlier that we always
need someone to kick around, and I don't get that. Do you?"

He glanced at the students assembled in front of him.

"Doesn't make sense, does it? If two people are attracted to each other and
they want to get it on, how does it hurt anybody else? I hear people going
on about how gay people are wrecking this country, and I don't get
that. I'm gay, and I haven't done anything to wreck this country. I follow
the rules. I try to be cool with everyone. I don't want no trouble and I
don't give any. There's really nothing different between me and the rest of
you, except `bout what gets me going. What's so special about wanting to be
treated with a little respect? Huh? What if things were really different?
Let's say three-quarters of the world was gay, and let's say we were
putting in laws that said you can't do this and you can't do that just
because of who you feel in love with. It's whack. Maybe there isn't a gay
gene. Maybe it's just how the brain develops. It doesn't matter. It's about
treating people right, like how you want to be treated. Remember the Golden
Rule? Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you. What about judge
not lest ye be judged? If things were turned around, every straight person
would be saying the same thing I am."

His focused on a speck on the far wall. Bobby realized he was talking out
loud to himself, and that the rest were simply listening in. He was no
longer debating: he was speaking his feelings.

"Look, is it better that I know how to love or would you rather I went out
and killed people?" Bobby asked the class. "It may sound like a dumb
question, but it's not. Remember that kid who got killed in Wyoming? What
did he do to deserve that? He was gay. Big deal. He wasn't hurting
anyone. See, it's really kind of simple. Gay people, me, want to feel safe
just like you do. We want to know we're gonna get a fair break. Gay people
aren't asking for special rights. All we're asking for is to have the laws
everyone lives by be applied the same way to everyone. It's not a hard
thing to understand. Sometimes I think about what it would be like if the
situation was reversed. I keep asking myself what I would do. I'd like to
think I'd stand up for the rights of everyone even when they are different
from me. I'd stand up for `em because I wouldn't know when I'd need someone
to stand up for me. The way I see it, if we don't stick up for everyone,
then all us can have our rights taken away. Rights don't seem to special
when you've got `em, and it's hard to believe someone isn't asking for
anything special `cause you just don't understand it. There's an Indian
saying about living in another person's shoes for a while. Would you want
to live in mine... and I'm not talking `bout sexuality. Gay people, me, just
want to be treated like everyone else. That's it."

Bobby stared down at the podium for a few seconds. He walked backwards
until he bumped into the wall. He was up against a wall in more than a
physical sense. There was a strange silence in the class. Someone moved,
and a desk chair squeaked.

"Ah, I see," Ms. Lauren said softly. "Very moving, Robby. Very well. Okay,
Alicia, you may rebut now."

Alicia strolled confidently forward. She set down her note cards on the
lectern, and then gripped the edges with both hands. She seemed to be
waiting on purpose. Bobby ignored him. He was battling his emotions.

"If it was a perfect world," Alicia started quietly, "we wouldn't be having
this debate. We would never even consider the question. It simply would not
come up. If this was a perfect world, the question about homosexuality
would not exist because that lifestyle would not exist as an option for
people. We would all follow our biological and genetic design
perfectly. But it's not a perfect world."

Bobby heard the words. He grew angry. He understood what Alicia was saying,
and it stung him as hard as a slap shot to unprotected skin. Alicia had
skillfully stated, without actually saying it, that homosexuality was an
abnormality. Bobby was enraged.

"This debate is not about compassion. This debate is not about qualifying
or quantifying the scope of human dignity," she continued, and seemed to be
gaining speed. "While gay people say the treatment they suffer is
offensive, we cannot disregard the fact that a great majority find
homosexuality offensive. There is a part of this debate question that has
not been stated, and it is time to bring it into the open. The call for
homosexual rights abridges the rights of other people to live with a sense
of personal security. Most straight men do not like to be in the company of
homosexuals because they do not want to be sexually objectified. They find
it morally and personally repugnant."

Bobby's eyes grew wide. In the midst of his rampaging ire, he found Alicia
had tossed him a small weapon. He grappled with it and tried to frame it
into an argument.

"The homosexual community is demanding the rest of the country accept a
lifestyle that is viewed as unnatural and morally wrong. Few of us here
would be willing to put up with being forced to tolerate those whom we find
objectionable on almost every level. The rule of law safeguards common
decency... for the good of all. People do have an inherent right to respect,
but they must also be willing to extend that respect. Open homosexuality is
not respectful to most citizens. They find it disgusting. However, my
opponent would have you believe he has right to perform unnatural and
disgusting acts, acts that have threatened the health of the world, without
regard to anyone else's sense of right or wrong. This, ultimately, is what
makes the call for gay rights a call for special rights."

"Once again, interesting assertions," Ms. Lauren said almost immediately
before Alicia had signaled she was finished.

Bobby was chewing on the bones of his arguments. He felt something was
there, and he needed to expose it. There was wrong element in Alicia's
statements. Bobby began walking to the lectern before Ms. Lauren called on
him. Trent handed him cards, and he took them without looking.

"At this time," Ms. Lauren said before he reached his destination. "Alicia
may begin with her second statements of fact."

Bobby halted in his tracks. Alicia approached her podium. She glanced once
at him, a smug and victorious expression on her face, and then gazed back
out on the audience.

"Thank you again, Ms. Lauren," she said in a please voice. "We have already
determined the absence of genetic or legal precedence that homosexuals may
use to support their claim to special rights. There exists, however, one
more compelling reason that we have only touched upon. I am speaking of the
religious and moral foundations of this country."

Bobby glanced over at her. He could scarcely believe what he was
hearing. Alicia had opened the one topic that a non-member of the club had
considered. He was quite certain Trent was reaching for the section of note
cards that had been specially prepared in case the topic arose. Jessica,
Jason, Sue and Matt seemed convinced Alicia would not raise the points
since they were very contentious. However, it appeared the young woman was
more than ready to travel down that road.

"This nation was founded on Christian belief," Alicia declared
boldly. Bobby smiled to himself. "If we are to grant homosexuals special
rights, then we are turning our backs on over two hundred years of history
and negating the core principles of this country. The United States is
under constant attack both at home from immigrants and from abroad because
we refuse to sacrifice our religious heritage. The gay rights movement is
simply another assault on our long-held beliefs. We cannot stand by without
actively fighting against this battle with pernicious evil forces that will
lead us away from God. My opponent has pointed out that certain groups are
protected because of their religiosity. Both the Amish and the Jehovah's
Witnesses have struggled to maintain the purity of our right to religion
without interference from morally destructive forces. Allowing the
homosexuals to present their agenda to America will take us down the path
of self-destruction from which we cannot return. We will falter before the
eyes of Jesus Christ and God if we let this foul turn of events take hold."

Alicia appeared full of indignant self-righteousness. Her very demeanor was
a challenge to any who would dare dispute her words. Bobby felt he was up
to the task.

"The book of Leviticus in the Holy Bible clearly states men `...shalt not
lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination.' It is sinful
before the Lord. All of us know the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, and how
those cities were burned from the face of the earth by God's angels because
they allowed sinful behavior, behavior like homosexuality, to run unchecked
in the city. God smote them for their wicked ways. Do we, as a nation, wish
to have God turn his loving and protective hand from us because we have
strayed from his laws? Not me. I am not willing to take a chance with my
soul. Most Americans think the same. We know we are trading salvation for
public peace by making a pact with Satan when we allow special rights for
homosexuals. The laws of mankind change: the laws of God are eternal. We
must be careful when deciding the laws we are going to follow. We must
remain vigilant. The protections under the First Amendment allow us to
practice our faith and defend it vigorously. If we are to remain true to
our the founding principles of this nation and of our faith, then we must
make certain the laws of man are in accord with the laws of God."

She cast a threatening look at everyone in the room.

"The struggle against special rights for homosexuals masks the struggle we
are engaged in for our very souls. This is more important than any
political agenda. This is more important than the Constitution of the
United States. Our eternal damnation or salvation depends on the choices we
make here on earth. Do not choose blindly because you feel sorry for
someone, or else no one will feel sorry for you when you burn in hell."

The oratory was fiery. Alicia was brimming with passion. Bobby was
impressed in an odd fashion. He knew Alicia sincerely believed in what she
was saying. It was obvious in the tone of her voice, her choice of words,
and the actual delivery. He was beginning to think she had a possible
career as a preacher, except he did not want Alicia preaching hate. It was
another element clearly exposed in her comments. She hated
homosexuals. There was an undercurrent in her words that gay people were
responsible for all manner of ills that beset the society. Bobby disagreed
with her strongly. The first evil, by his reckoning, was giving into
hatred. It was not the way of Jesus or God as far as he was
concerned. Alicia was finished, and Bobby felt as if he was just getting
going. She had opened a door for him, and he planned on walking through it.

"Ah... yes," Ms. Lauren said cryptically. "Another interesting round. Thank
you... for your... insightful comments. All right. Okay, then. Robby, I
believe it is your turn for rebuttal."

Since he was already standing at the podium, he looked out over the
class. He was not sure if he wanted his excited nerves to calm down. He was
in game mode. A glance at the note cards showed Trent was as well. It was
the special deck. He was ready.

"Laws of God or laws of man?" Bobby asked a question for his
opening. "Except for the stuff God and Jesus said for themselves, I'm not
sure we want to depend too much on the Bible as a rule book. Leviticus."

He scanned a card.

"'Ye shall not round the corners of your heads, neither shalt thou mar the
corners of thy beard.' If I read it right, I think you get the death
sentence for that. That's in Leviticus, so I think all the guys in here
would hang for it. Then, ah..."

His eyes flicked down while searching the note cards.

"Exodus," he said calmly. "'Six days shall work be done, but on the seventh
day there shall be to you a holy day, a Sabbath of rest to the Lord:
whosoever doeth work therein shall be put to death.' I know a lot of people
who work on Sunday aren't going to be too happy with that rule. How many of
us have jobs and we have to work on Sunday. It's gonna take a long time
kill us all, and then nobody will be around to actually work!"

There was ripple of nervous laughter.

"Here's some more from Exodus. `And if a man sells his daughter to be a
maidservant, she shall not go out as the menservants do.' Some guys might
think it's cool to be able to sell and trade girls back and forth. It even
says girl servants won't be allowed to walk around. I guess if we were
following that rule, Alicia wouldn't be doing this debate. There's other
stuff in Leviticus talking about what we can and can't eat, and it always
seems like someone is gonna die for breaking those rules. I don't know
about you, but I kind of like shrimp and lobster, and I ain't too certain I
should be put to death for eating it."

Snickering issued from various mouths.

"So, like, where do we draw the line? If we're gonna follow the Bible, I
don't think we're allowed to pick and choose only the stuff we like. We
gotta follow all of it. The rules in the Bible are pretty stiff, and I'm
not sure I'd want to live in a place that does everything it says. I mean,
it'd be better for me `cause I'm a guy, but you girls aren't gonna like it
much. And this is something else I don't get. Does God really hate all the
people He created? He does if we look at all the rules in the Bible we're
not following. Nobody I know of is going to heaven... not even Alicia. Look,
it's kind of gross to talk about, but I know she's been at school when
she's on her period."

Trent's barking laughter rang out. He was not alone. Bobby kept his face
firmly fixed. He did not want it to appear as though he was simply making
fun of the issue. He did have a point he wanted to explain.

"I know it sounds funny, but the people... the guys who wrote the stuff in
the Bible were pretty serious. They weren't fooling around, and I don't
think they'd want us fooling around with it, either. See, this is problem
with using religion to make laws. Which religion do we follow? Do the
Hindus get to skate out of it `cause they're not Christian? We've got
freedom of religion, so I don't think we can force them to be
Christian. Same goes for all the other religions. If we start using the
Bible like some people think we should, there ain't gonna be a whole lot of
Christians left in this country. Everyone is going to switch to get out of
those rules. Don't get me wrong. I mean, religion is cool and everything,
but I think there's a reason why God gave us a brain. I think He wants us
to use it. Just doing everything written in a book some guys wrote a long
time ago when everything was way different isn't too smart if you ask
me. We gotta be careful with this stuff. Maybe we're supposed to let go of
some of it when we get smarter. These other rules, I don't believe God had
a lot to do with making it up. Holding on to it too tightly is only gonna
make us dumber. I don't think that's what God wants."

Bobby said all he wanted to say. He had stuck to the point. Many of the
other students were nodding their heads. It appeared as if he had reached
them on some level. He refrained from sneaking a peek at Alicia, and turned
instead to Trent. Trent was grinning broadly at him. Bobby could not
explain it, but he felt Trent's reaction was wrong in principle. While he
may have earned debating points, he did not feel he had entirely advanced
his cause properly. He did want people to think he disrespected religion,
for he was religious himself.

"And that ends the statement of fact session," Ms. Lauren said, drawing
everyone's attention to her. "We are going to move into the conclusion
phase. Since Alicia started the opening, she will begin the conclusion. I
would like to remind both debaters that this is not a time to represent
more facts, but to summarize your arguments. All right?"

She glanced between the two standing in the front of the room. Bobby nodded
his head. He suspected Alicia did much the same.

"Very good. Alicia, you may proceed," Ms. Lauren stated.

"The debate is not academic. This is an issue we, when we reach adulthood,
are going to have to face. The ramifications cross many boundaries:
personal, political, and religious. The question cannot be so easily
divided into a simply summary," Alicia told the class gravely. "What we
decide, and it will be our decision, is going to follow us throughout the
future. We must consider these facts when deciding what to do about the
homosexual question. First, science cannot find a shred of evidence that
homosexuality is biologically engineered. Second, the First and Fourteenth
cannot offer protection because homosexuality is not a defining group
characteristic, and it does not enjoy a status within any major
religion. Third, homosexuality as a lifestyle is a choice a person
willingly makes despite the knowledge that it is not condoned by
society. Finally, we must consider how God will view our actions and the
laws we enact. Our laws must be in agreement with His laws, or we are all
doomed."

She halted and examined the faces of her peers.

"This is not advocating hatred. I do not hate homosexuals. I pity them. I
feel sorry for them because they have made a poor choice. We must all pity
them and pray that they will see the error of their ways and stop this
senseless fight for rights they have not earned or can be legally granted
to them. It doesn't matter what is said about personal feelings or
attitudes: the law cannot justifiably grant them special rights simply
because they feel underprivileged. We must consider the good of the entire
society. Homosexual rights are special rights, and we will bring nothing
but trouble on ourselves if we are by their emotional appeals. Pity them,
yes. Help them make different choices, yes. Pray for their salvation and a
return to God's graces, yes. Assist them in changing the fabric of our
society by granting them special rights, no. We cannot afford to do
that. If we do, it will be a choice that will haunt us into eternity."

Bobby waited for the accompanying crash of cymbals. He was a tad surprised
when it did not come. It seemed certain to follow immediately based on
Alicia's concertedly serious tone. She was affective at making her
pronouncements take on an added sense of importance. Bobby actually admired
the skill. He knew he did not have it except when he was on the ice. This
was Alicia arena, and Bobby realized he qualified for little more than a
spectator. Despite his notion the young woman had captured the debate, he
was ready to give it his final attempt. He would use the tactics that had
been promising during the earlier part of the contest. There was only one
element that needed to fall into place.

"Succinctly stated, Alicia," Ms. Lauren told her, and added the missing
piece. "Now, Robby, you may make your closing remarks. Remember, you are
not entitled to present any further statement of facts.

"Thank you, Ms. Lawrence," he replied, and gazed at his teacher. She
narrowed her eyes a bit. "Dignity and respect. The right not to be
offended. People as sexual objects. Heaven or hell. A perfect world. Alicia
was right: this is a big question."

Bobby was laying out the shell of what he was thinking, but it still had
not coalesced into a coherent body of thought. The note cards Trent had
passed to him were ignored.

"Okay," Bobby continued after a moment of thought. "The one thing we agree
on is that we don't agree. I get that. What I think a lot of people don't
get is that gay people are born, and not made. It's not something you can
practice and decide if you like it. A person knows what he or she likes and
doesn't like. There's got to be some reason, a physical one, why people are
gay. Like I said, nobody wants to part of group that gets treated like gay
people do. It doesn't make sense to me, either, when other groups get
rights on choices they do make. Amish people can quit being Amish. The only
difference is we got something in the Constitution about religion. See,
another I don't get is where in the laws does it say you're allowed to take
back the rights of people if they haven't done anything wrong. I guess this
is what the whole argument is about."

He looked over at Trent and remembered the heated discussion they had in
the past concerning sexuality.

"Some people say being gay is wrong, but they never come up with a good
reason," Bobby said quietly. "They use God, but no one really knows what
God is thinking. They use the Bible, but only the parts they want to
use. They're willing to ignore all the other rules and look at only a
couple. I don't understand how anyone can use God or Jesus to hate other
people. I thought it was about love. It is about love, and it's about love
that's not anyone's business anyway. I sort of asked the question before if
straight people would like it if other people made up the rules for them,
and then said they couldn't change the rules. No one would like it. That's
not how it works in this country. We change laws all the time. We did it
for women and black people, and I think we kind of did it for
Indians. We've done it for a lot of people. It's called progress. I gotta
say again that if you're willing to deny some people their rights, sooner
or later it's gonna happen to you, and you won't have anyone around who'll
stick up for you. We can't just protect some rights for some people: we
gotta protect all the rights for all the people. There's nothing special
about that. It just makes sense. Gay people ain't just asking our country
to protect just their rights. Nope, they're asking to protect everyone's
rights. That's what equal rights mean."

Bobby stopped, and not because he wanted to halt. He had been listening to
what he was saying, and it all suddenly made sense to him. There was not
definitive path he could trace that lead to the revelations, and yet the
ideas were solidly planted in his mind. Bobby's eyes swept the room. He was
not speaking for just himself and the gay community any longer. His ideas
involved everyone who agreed or disagreed with him. It was the essence of
the country that made it so unique. People could disagree. They were
encouraged to disagree, but they had to be fair about it. One group could
not be allowed to simply trample over another without a challenge. Bobby
understood what he was saying. He swung his head around to face one
specific person.

"Jessica," he said and smiled. "Thanks for getting me to do this. I get it
now."

Jessica smiled back him.

"Are you finished, Robby?"

"Yeah, I guess I'm done here, Ms. Lawrence."

Ms. Lauren's head snapped up to look at him squarely. He smiled at her. The
woman appeared confused.

"Well, that concludes the debate," she said slowly. "Now, I know this is
unusual, but we're going to have an open vote. All those who believe Alicia
Dover presented the most solid arguments, please raise your hands."

Bobby counted along with everyone else. He nearly raised his own
arm. Alicia Dover had to be given credit for crafting a formidable
debate. Bobby was glad Ms. Lauren had asked for that vote first. A clear
majority voted for Alicia.

"And Robert Arnor?"

Most of those who had not sided with Alicia raised their arms.

"Abstaining?"

Two hands went up.

"Well, I have to say that Alicia's presentation was more polished than
Robby's..."

"Ms. Lauren," Trent interjected.

"Yes?" She replied.

"He goes by Bobby, not Robby. Not Robert or Rob or Bob: it's Bobby!"

"Ah..." Ms. Lauren said and stretched out the word. "Very well, Bobby's
presentation was rough around the edges. However, I think he relied more on
factual evidence."

Bobby wanted to cheer for his friend. Trent had guts, and there was no
denying it.

"Ms. Lauren," Alicia blurted, "I don't think he had a factual argument."

"The interpretation of the facts can be disputed, Alicia," the woman said
casually, "but his remarks remained factually relevant to the question."

"And mine didn't?" Alicia asked sourly.

"Not very often. The only time you relied on facts was when you were
rebutting his statements, and even then the content and context was based
on his assertions."

Alicia folded her arms and wore a cross expression.

"The truth is neither of you presented a very fact-based argument,"
Ms. Lauren continued. "I expected you, Alicia, to at least state precedent
and prior rulings on the question, but I never heard any. Rob... Bobby
presented fact-based items, but he never cited the sources or the
precedents, either. On the whole, the entire debate was weak."

Bobby did not feel discouraged by the assessment. It was accurate, as far
as he could tell. He had not properly resorted to using his note cards that
stated the source of his arguments. Instead, he had lobbed the bare bones
of the issues at Alicia hoping one of them would stick. What he found
encouraging was that Alicia was just as guilty as he. Ms. Lauren was
glancing back and forth between them. Bobby nodded his head
thoughtfully. Alicia remained rigid.

"When Bobby volunteered to present the opposing side to the question, I
asked him if this was personal, and he never quibbled about the fact it was
personal for him. It was easy to guess that he would play fast and loose
with the facts because he has a personal stake in the question," she
explained.

"We all do," Bobby mumbled.

"You are very correct in that assessment," Ms. Lauren responded. "I was
worried the debate would build like this. Now, it is useful because it
gives us the chance to dissect it later and learn for both of your
mistakes."

Alicia made a barely audible hissing sound. Bobby could tell she was not
enjoying what she was hearing. He, on the other hand, was accepting it as a
valid assessment of his performance. He had learned long ago not to assume
he knew more than the coach who was watching from the sidelines. A good
coach, he knew, evaluated the performance and not the personality. Bobby's
hockey training was useful once again.

"Well, I think we'll save the analysis for the next meeting," Ms. Lauren
told the class. "You know the drill. Write down your thoughts on the
debate, what you see as being the strengths and weaknesses of the
arguments, and get ready to go over it in groups."

Several of the seasoned debaters were mumbling about the assignment. Bobby
knew he would have to depend on his friends once more to give him an
objective evaluation. He needed them to be objective because he was in a
subjective frame of mind. Alicia, he thought, had won the popular vote, but
she had not, if Ms. Lauren was correct, won the debate. Bobby felt as
though he had succeeded in an unusual manner.

"Until Thursday, folks," Ms. Lauren said, stood up, and held up a hand in
farewell.

The room erupted into noise. Bobby and Trent, who carried the note card
that was in complete shambles, walked over to join their friends. Along the
way, a few of the club members congratulated him on his efforts. It pleased
Bobby. A few others stared blankly at him, and he ignored the looks.

"Bobby, you were all over the place," Matt told him and shook his
head. "Did you remember anything we went over in practice?"

"Yeah!" Bobby said in a dignified manner. "I remembered not to puke."

"I'll give him that," Sue remarked with a wry grin.

"Jesus, come on, give the guy a break," Trent said and slapped Bobby on the
shoulder. "It was his first time out."

"You didn't do as bad as they're making it sound," Jason told him.

Bobby felt his ears heating up. He could not decide if it was the vote of
encouragement or the person saying it that made him blush. Perhaps, he
thought, it was as combination of the two.

"To tell you the truth, Bobby," Jessica said as she sidled up to him, "I
didn't think you'd actually go through with it. I'm proud of you."

"Why'd you think I'd back out?" Bobby asked indignantly.

"'Cause you don't like to talk about this stuff. You never do... you never
have until now."

"Wanna bet?" Trent muttered.

With the exception of Trent, Jessica was absolutely accurate in her
statement, and Bobby knew it. Jessica had badgered and bullied him into
joining the debate club and then taking on the question of gay rights. She
had enlisted the aid of Jason Brinker, dragged in her other debate cohorts,
cornered Trent with Bobby's aid, and drafted anyone who got near her into
the cause. Bobby respected her. She had no idea how important she was in
his life.

"You know, ah, I, um... really meant what I said up there," he told her.

"Better than thinking you're plotting to kill me half the time," she
replied, and smirked sly. "You are so transparent sometimes, Bobby."

"Okay, maybe I did think about it once or twice..."

"Or thirty or forty times," Trent lumped in his knowledge into the
conversation.

"But I didn't do anything," Bobby said in his defense.

"I wouldn't say that," Matt piped up. "You know most of the people agreed
with you and not Alicia?"

"Then what did the vote mean?" Trent asked for the two of them.

"It was about style, not about content," Matt explained.

"I don't know, I sort of like getting a good laugh in during a debate," Sue
quipped. "Better than being beaten over the head with everything."

People were filing out of the room. Bobby was standing with his friends,
and he did consider all of them his friends. The moved out as a group
rehashing the parts they liked best and least about the debate. Bobby did
not hesitate in acknowledging his debating style was poor, and that seemed
to impress the others. They sauntered out into the hallway discussing the
merits of his arguments against Biblical laws. Bobby thought of Mike
Cousins who, though not in attendance, had been instrumental in that
regard. The troupe was heading down the hallway when Jason stopped.

"You guys want to get something to eat?" He inquired.

"Always," Trent grumbled.

"Sounds good," Matt agreed cheerfully.

The rest cast an affirmative vote in short order.

"Mama Prizzo's sound okay?" Jason asked, looking around at the group.

"Pizza," Bobby muttered hungrily.

No one disputed the suggestion.

"Cool," Jason said and sounded oddly please. "Give me a second. Got to make
a call."

Jason pulled out a cellular phone from his pocket, flipped it open and
dialed a number. Bobby glanced at Jessica, Matt and Sue, but they
shrugged. Trent watched with disinterest. It was clear his mind was on
food.

"Yo, Jacob. It's me," Jason said after a few moments. There was a slight
pause. "No, it was cool. He did okay."

Jason started to laugh some seconds later. The rest of the group searched
one another's faces for answers. None were forthcoming.

"We're heading over to Prizzo's. Want to swing by?"

He waited, and so did the others.

"Great. See you in about fifteen minutes then. Later," Jason said and
flipped the phone closed. "Let's roll."

"What was that all about?" Jessica queried imperiously.

"My cousin. He's a fiend for the lasagna there. Jacob would kill me if I
went and at least didn't give him a shout."

Bobby simply listened to the melodic voice. Jason spoke with a comfortable
ease and complete command. The jittery feeling was assailing Bobby once
more, as it usually did when he was in too close of proximity to Jason. It
dawned on Bobby that Jason was staring at him out of the corner of his
eyes. Bobby shifted his glance elsewhere.

"It's cool, Bobby," Jason said quietly. "Me? I take it as a compliment."

"Um, yeah," Bobby murmured.

"Dude, don't play with him like that," Trent stated with an edge in his
voice.

"I'm not playing with him, Trent," Jason said without rancor. "Besides, it
wasn't even my idea... again."

Jason cast Jessica an odd look, and Jessica became very interested in some
graffiti on a locker. Bobby had a hunch he was being set up again. It was
making him nervous. The idea of going out for pizza was growing less
inviting by the moment.

"You know what? I, ah... think I'm just going to head back home. It's been a
long afternoon with the debate and all," Bobby said quietly.

"NO!" Jessica and Jason said in unison.

It confirmed it for Bobby. There was definitely a plan in action, and it
was being hidden from him deliberately. His eyes closed until they were
small slits while he stared purposefully at Jessica. An unlikely accomplice
supported his suspicions.

"Jason... you're not thinking Jake...?" Matt burbled in a confused
manner. "Damn, you are!"

"Who do you want me to hold first?" Trent offered, his voice forceful like
an undertow.

Everyone seemed to know what was going on except him, and it was making
Bobby angry. He suddenly wished he had not thanked Jessica openly because
he had a good idea she was the main instigator. He glared at her.

"Don't look at me!" She growled at him. "I swear it wasn't me this time!"

"It wasn't Jess, Bobby," Jason spoke quickly on her heels. "It was me. I
just, ah, sort of floated the idea by her a while ago, and.... Look, Bobby...
I said something to Jake before I should have. I should have talked to you
first... I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry."

"Listen, I don't have one clue about what you're saying, so would you mind
filling me in first!" Bobby demanded.

"They're setting you up... literally," Trent mumbled.

"What?" Bobby blasted out the question.

"Too many pucks to the head," Trent told Jason.

"Jake's gay, Bobby," Sue informed him quietly.

"Oh, man!" Bobby moaned as their plan revealed itself to him.

"And he plays football and baseball... and he's a big, dumb jock like you,"
Jessica added.

"And when he heard what we were doing with you in the debate club, he, ah,
well, sort of became... interested, I guess," Jason stammered through his
statements.

"Jake's cool," Matt repeated, and that seemed to satisfy him in regard to
the argument.

"Look, I have gay friends," Bobby told them. "You know that."

"He does," Trent said and nodded his head. "Some of `em are real gay, too...
if you know what I mean."

Bobby rammed an elbow into Trent's ribs, and said, "They're your friends,
too."

"Yeah, and they know what I think," Trent said with irritation while
rubbing the sore spot on his side.

"It's not the same, Bobby," Jessica remarked dryly. "Just because they're
gay doesn't mean that you fit in. I'm not saying anything against them,
either. John and Lisa and Mark are nice and all... but you're... a hockey
player. You act like one. You think like one. Bobby, Mark is scared half
the time you're going to beat the crap out of him."

"I wouldn't do that!" Bobby rejoined in annoyance.

"He knows. It's just... well, think about how you and Trent act. I'm
surprised you can move at all with the way you beat on each other."

"You think this wimp can take me down?" Trent asked defiantly.

Bobby elbowed him in the ribs again.

"Dude! Knock it off!" Trent growled and punched Bobby in the arm with
considerable force.

Bobby was nudged to the side, and part of his arm tingled with
numbness. Trent had made solid contact. He was beginning to think Trent
needed a serious beating to remind him who was boss.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," Jason muttered while watching Bobby
and Trent. "These guys will annihilate one another."

"What?" Trent asked moodily and slammed his fists against his chest like a
gorilla. "You think your cousin wants a piece of this?"

"Dude, Mark could take you out," Bobby rejoined in bored manner.

Trent socked him in the arm again. It felt like electricity was surging
through his fingers from the blow. Bobby massaged the growing knot on his
bicep and glared at Trent.

"You are so dead!"

Sue and Matt were chuckling at the display of machismo. Bobby and Trent
appeared fully prepared to engage in a mock battle. They were all puffed up
and full of themselves as they glared icily at one another. Jason started
to snicker as well the longer it persisted.

"On second thought, maybe it is a good idea. Jacob will fit right in with
these two thugs," he told the group.

"You want to hold him or want me to?" Trent asked Bobby as both shifted
their glance to Jason.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" Bobby suggested.

They each began to slam one fist into an open palm and count out loud in
unison.

"Ah, Jason," Jessica said hastily. "You'd better run."

The third and final sharp slap of flesh against flesh echoed around the
group. As if it was the cue, Jason bolted from the knot of friends. Bobby
and Trent sprang into action as well.

"He's gonna be in a world of hurt when they catch him," Jessica told the
remaining two.

"I don't know about that. Jason can hold his own against Jake pretty well...
and they do have to catch him first," Matt stated.

"We might want to check this out," Sue said. "Could be pretty funny."

The three looked at one another for a moment, broke into grins, and started
trotting off in the same direction as the first three. Less then a minute
later they were treated to the spectacle of Bobby and Trent attempting to
corner Jason in the parking lot. Jason was fleet-footed and nimble, and
eluded capture at every turn. Jessica, Sue and Matt came to a halt,
laughing at the scene. It did not matter who was gay or who was straight.
It did not matter who was male or who was female. They only thing that
mattered at that moment was their friendship and being young. The debate
was forgotten for the moment. While they were not actively thinking about
it, they all knew it would not end. As Bobby wheeled around the parking lot
trying to herd Jason toward Trent, all he knew was that he was having
fun. The point was not debatable.

Copyright 2003 RDH, Ltd.

Inqueries to the author can be made through:

drake@draketales.org
http://www.draketales.org

****************************************************************************

This is an original work of fiction by Drake Hunter. All characters, names
and events are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living or
dead, and/or events is purely coincidental.

The author reserves all United States and international copyrights. No part
of this document may be copied, reproduced or transmitted, except under the
provisions of the fair use doctrine, in any manner electrical, mechanical
or otherwise without the express written consent of the author.

****************************************************************************