Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
CHAPTER 1
“We must be willing to let go of the life we
have planned, so as to accept the
life that is waiting for us” ~ Joseph Campbell
I know what you are all thinking. Great, another novel about a gay teenager and how hard his life is! Now, to be fair, you should have known that after you read the description of the book. I mean, really, it’s literally right there. So, yeah, you shouldn’t really be all that surprised.
Yes, I mean, that’s a large chunk of it, but that’s not all of it. It’s a story about me and my two best friends. It’s a story of friendship, love, and all that feel good stuff. There are going to be parts that aren’t for the faint of heart or the innocent. I mean, you have heard what teenage boys talk about, right? Maybe you haven’t, but I am going to guess that a good deal of you reading this are teenage guys so you know exactly what I am talking about.
Oh, and another thing; if swearing or other politically incorrect things bother you then you shouldn’t be reading this either. Really, the story laid out from this point on is full of colorful metaphors, expletives, and things that will probably make your mother blush. You have been warned.
No one grows up wanting to be different, I know I certainly didn’t. We all want to believe that we are a little unique, hell, maybe even special in our own way. But no one, especially a sixteen-year-old guy, grows up and wants to be so different that they stand out. At that age, you just want to blend in and hope that you don’t get a boner for no apparent reason and thus acquire some unfortunate nickname that would follow you through the rest of your high school career.
I knew from a young age that I was different, although I couldn't figure out just how different until I hit puberty. All the rest of my friends were looking at girls and I wasn’t. It took all of three minutes during seventh grade when I figured out that girls didn’t turn me on, guys did.
The revelation came at the most inopportune time, mainly during a party at Sam Kincaid’s house. Now, Sam was one of the most popular kids in junior high. He was smart, good-looking, and generally not an asshole. Everyone had been invited to his house, which had an indoor pool. It was when Sam emerged from the pool that I realized something was… well, up, for lack of a better word. I just remember standing there, willing a part of my body to not completely betray me in front of the entire school when it dawned on me. Holy shit! I’m gay!
And just like that rainbows exploded everywhere, glitter shot out of my ass, and everyone launched into a musical number about how being different was awesome and amazing. Of course, none of these things happened because life is not a poorly written musical comedy. What did happen was that I grabbed my towel, made up some excuse about my dog being sick, and ran out of the room.
I did a lot of research on being gay. Most of it was done from the local library where I knew that nothing I typed into the web browser could be traced back to me. Although in hindsight, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. My parents had yet to figure out that both my brother and I had found a way around the parental controls on the internet years ago.
But anyway, I am getting ahead of myself. I should back up a bit so that I don’t totally confuse you. My name is Henry Morgan and I’m sixteen years old. I don’t think that I’m that great looking, although the past nine years of gymnastics have given me a pretty ripped body. I have short brown hair, blue eyes, and at the moment some pretty tanned skin thanks to all the pool lounging I’ve been doing all summer. Some girls tell me that I am cute, I’ve actually even had a few tell me that I was hot. Which did me no good, since you know, I don’t like girls.
I live in a smallish town in Nebraska called Cedar Creek. It’s about twenty minutes from Omaha - home of the College World Series, Olympic Swim Trials, Warren Buffett, and a few other famous people. Wait, you have no idea who Warren Buffett is, do you? Nevermind, that’s really not important to the overall story.
Anyways, like I was saying before, I did a lot of research at the library. I mean, I knew what being gay was, but I didn’t know much else about it. I knew that most gay men were portrayed as feminine and weak (something that I am happy to say is changing), but I knew that wasn’t me. I could bench more than a lot of the guys on the football team and I certainly didn’t consider myself feminine.
I thought that I might just be confused, but the more that I dug into it, the more that I realized I wasn’t confused. I was gay. Looking at naked women or even thinking about them did nothing for me. It made me feel uncomfortable actually. When I thought about naked men, yeah, that did something to me.
For a while, I couldn’t even say those words to myself and when I did, I would start to panic and every horrible thought imaginable would fly around in my brain. My life as I knew it was over. There was a part of me that hated what I had become. All I wanted to do was be normal. I cried myself to sleep a lot of those nights; picturing losing everyone that I was close to. My family, my friends, everyone. The thought made me physically ill.
I even looked into possible cures, which is stupid because despite what some people say, it’s not a lifestyle choice. I didn’t choose to be gay any more than someone chooses to be straight. I realized that after a lot of searching and reading articles by actual doctors, you know the ones with MDs, and PhDs, and all that intelligent stuff. Your orientation is hard-wired into your brain at birth. No amount of praying or conversion therapy will change who you are at heart, nor should it. Are you picking up on a theme yet?
I knew that I had to say something to my parents. I couldn’t keep dodging questions about girls forever. I kept reading about how some kids went into a deep depression trying to deny their sexual orientation. They went to some pretty dark places and I didn’t want to be one of those guys. So, I took a deep breath, prayed to every deity in the known universe and came out to my parents.
It was probably the hardest thing that I had done so far. The conversation was awkward and full of tears. Lots and lots of tears. I don’t mean that in a bad way, but I remember reading that you had to allow your parents a chance to grieve. Basically, they had to realize that this life they thought their son was going to live, well, that wasn’t happening anymore. At least not in the way that they thought it was going to happen.
I could understand that my life wasn’t going exactly like I thought it was going to either. I never imagined that I would be into guys and certainly wouldn’t have thought that I would have had the balls to come out in high school.
Anyways, so I told them and then we told my brother, who is fourteen, and he kinda lost it. Actually, that’s putting it mildly, he went totally ape shit. I mean he already thought I was weird for doing the archery thing and then the gymnastics thing and the lightsaber dueling thing, which sounds way worse than it actually is. I guess he figured that this would be more embarrassing than all of those things put together. But when my parents suggested that I tell my two best friends, well, then shit got real.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want them to know… okay, maybe I didn’t want them to know. But after a week, my parents both came to me and said that I owed it to my friends to be honest with them. They would support me if I chose not to say anything, but they both
had that look in their eyes that made it sound like it was less of a suggestion and more an order. So, I gave in. I decided to tell my two best friends that I was gay.
I know what you are all thinking. Telling my parents had to be harder than telling my friends. Wrong. My parents have to love me, I am pretty sure that is rule number one of parenting. Love your kid. Whether they are a drug addict, gambler, womanizer, or gay, you love them. End of story.
It’s not the same thing with friends. They don’t have to love you. They can choose to walk out on you, and that was exactly what I was afraid was going to happen. At sixteen, you aren’t really sure how you feel about most things… and I was pretty sure that my friends had uttered the phrase ‘that’s so gay’ on more than one occasion.
And it’s not like it was a topic of conversation that we talked about. Our sexuality, I mean. I actually intended to keep it to myself for a long time and maybe, just maybe if I didn’t think about it or tried hard enough, it wouldn’t be true. Pretty fucking stupid on my part. You can’t change who you are, no matter what. I stopped pacing and took a deep breath. I needed to calm down.
There was a knock at my door and I turned around just as my dad came into the room. For someone that was pushing mid-forties, he certainly didn’t look it. He had the faintest wisps of grey that appeared in his brown hair along his temples, and brown eyes. He was on the thin side, due to him recently developing what one could probably call an obsession with cycling.
“If you keep pacing like that, you’re going to wear a hole in the carpet,” he said, sliding into my desk chair. “You need to relax.”
“I can’t relax,” I grunted, turning around to face him. “I am about to do something incredibly stupid.”
My dad gave me that look that instantly said ‘You know it’s not stupid’. I groaned and slumped my shoulders. This seemed like a much better idea a week ago when I had talked it over with my parents, but now that the time was approaching I was questioning my abilities to make good decisions.
“They’re your best friends,” he continued. “They deserve to know the real you.”
“Davis wasn’t thrilled to hear about the real me.”
My dad sighed heavily. I knew I shouldn’t have said it, but my younger brother was not taking me coming out well. At all. As far as he was concerned, I should have stayed in the closet. Very deep in the closet.
“You have to give him time,” my dad urged. “Davis is young. He still loves you, but he needs to figure things out for himself first. We’re all still doing that.”
I wanted to point out that my brother was fourteen, almost fifteen, so he really wasn’t so young that he could act like an asshole and have an excuse for it. Instead, I nodded. I knew that he was right of course; I knew that he and my mom were still adjusting to this whole thing, as was the rest of the family. Every once in awhile, I would catch my mom looking at me with tears in her eyes. She would just smile at me and say ‘you know I love you, honey, right? No matter what’.
“We are proud of you for coming out,” continued my dad. He stood up and put his hands on my shoulders. “You need to start being honest with everyone, and that includes your friends. Rory and Tab are great guys. They’ll deal with it.”
I took a deep, shuddering breath. I could already feel my eyes getting wet with tears; mostly because every time my parents say that they are proud of me, I swear my brain turns on the damn waterworks. I swiped the tears away with my hands and squared my shoulders.
“I know, I just hope that they don’t go screaming from the room or something.”
“Give them a chance,” my dad said, turning to leave my room. “Sometimes people surprise you.”
I nodded and watched him go. Five minutes later, the door to my burst open and my two best friends entered. The first to come in was Rory Walker; he was slightly shorter than my 5’8 frame with an athletic build, caramel colored skin, brown eyes, and short black curly hair. Rory shot me a smile and flopped himself on my bed. Following close on his heels was Tab Rawlins, who was currently stabbing at his phone. He finally got frustrated and shoved it back in his pocket.
Tab was taller than both me and Rory, he had spiky blond hair, blue eyes, and shared the same build as both Rory and myself. All three of us had been in gymnastics for years and as soon as puberty hit we all gained a lot of muscle mass quickly. My mother used to say that we were going to have to beat the girls off with a stick. I decided to refrain from pointing out the error of her statement for the time being. You know, because beating anyone off with a stick would not be all that pleasant.
“What’s up?” Tab asked. “You sounded kinda freaked out on the phone.”
“You can sound freaked out in a text message?” asked Rory.
Tab arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, I think you can.”
I could feel my heart racing and my hands going all sweaty. Also, it felt like I was going to throw up. Dear god, do not let me throw up.
“Dude, I don’t think you can,” Rory said.
“You totally can!” Tab insisted. “It’s all in how you word things.”
Rory appeared unconvinced. “Eh, I think that’s a stretch.”
I should just get it over with. I had this big long speech planned out about how I was still the same guy… I had rehearsed it over and over again to get it just right. I opened my mouth to start it, but that’s not what came out. What came out was:
“I like guys.”
Shit. They are just sitting there looking at me with these shocked expressions on their faces. I could feel lunch working its way up my throat. It felt like an eternity before Tab finally said.
“What?”
“I’m gay,” I repeated, a little louder this time.
Again, silence. Tab and Rory looked at each other and then at me and then back at each other again and then back at me. Oh god, I wanted to throw up. In fact, I was pretty sure that I was going to throw up.
“So, you… I mean you–” Tab started to say.
“You like in the ass?” Rory asked.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Rory!” Tab snapped, eyes going wide.
“I’m gonna throw up,” I said.
“What?” Rory asked.
“You can’t fucking say that!” And then Tab turned to me. “You are not going to throw up. Rory, just stop talking.”
“What did I do that was so wrong?” Rory asked. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
I put my head down and tried to calm my breathing. I could hear my heartbeat hammering away in my ears and whatever control I had previously over keeping my stomach contents down started to go. I could feel tears rolling down my cheeks and I was afraid to look up. I didn’t have too.
“Henry, look at us.”
It was Rory’s voice, gentle but sort of forceful at the same time. I didn’t want to look at them. I wanted to hide, I wanted to pretend that this had never happened. I wanted to go back two weeks ago when I thought I could convince myself that I was normal. I didn’t want to lose my friends. Slowly, I shifted my gaze upward to meet their eyes.
“Are you sure?” Tab asked. “Maybe you’re just curious? I mean, how do you know?”
I wasn’t even trying to hide the tears that were streaming down my face. Both Rory and Tab looked horrified. Most teenage males, scratch that, actually, most males of any age don’t cry in front of each other. And before today we certainly didn’t, unless one of us racked ourselves or something. Then crying was totally allowed.
“He knows because he gets hard seeing guys, not girls, duh.”
Tab followed Rory’s statement with what might have been the most epic facepalm I had ever seen.
“Really, you should just stop talking,” Tab said, glaring in Rory’s direction. “Alright, so, um, do your parents know?”
“Well, they do now,” Rory replied. “He said it pretty loudly.”
“Yes, my parents know,” I nodded. “I still feel like I am going to throw up.”
“You aren’t going t
o throw up,” Tab insisted.
“He looks like he’s going to throw up,” commented Rory.
“Because you keep saying stupid shit,” muttered Tab.
“I don’t think me saying stupid shit has anything to do with it.”
“Guys,” I said meekly. That stopped their conversation dead. “Please talk to me.”
I wanted to hear what they thought. Even if they both got up and walked out of the room, at least then I knew where I stood. I couldn’t take banter, although I guessed they were probably trying to buy some time so they could process their own feelings.
“I’m surprised,” Tab admitted. “Like, a lot surprised.”
“Yeah, me too,” Rory agreed.
“You don’t hate me?”
That actually prompted an angry look from them both.
“Dude, you actually think we’re that shallow?” Tab asked.
I swallowed hard. “I would understand, you know.”
“Oh, shut up,” Rory snapped. “I don’t care that you are gay, but I do have to ask one thing.”
“Oh god,” Tab muttered. “Please don’t ask anything stupid.”
“I mean, are you… you know, turned on by us?”
Truthfully, I thought I was prepared for that question. I mean, I sort of knew that they were going to ask it, but I still blushed as soon as the words came out of Rory’s mouth. My eyes darted around the room for a moment, summoning the courage to answer. Although both Rory and Tab were good looking guys; well-defined pecs, muscular arms, and abdominals that had that every so sexy V shape. But neither of them held any appeal for me sexually.
“Is that a yes?” Rory asked.
“What!?!”
“Well, you looked away for a moment.” Rory shrugged.
“No!” I snapped. “I mean, you guys are good looking but I’m not you know…”
“We don’t make you hard?”
“Damnit, Rory!” Tab barked. “Stop bringing being hard into this!”
“It’s a valid statement!” Rory replied.
Tab muttered something I didn’t catch under his breath and we all fell awkwardly silent again.
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