I rolled out of bed, muttering and cursing. Glancing out the window, I could see the faint morning rays already starting to work their way across the sky. As pretty as it all looked, I really just wanted to throw the covers back over my head and sleep for another few hours. Sighing heavily, I trudged over to my dresser and grabbed some clothes before heading out into the hallway.
“Ready for your big day, sport?” my dad asked as we passed each other in the hallway.
I looked at him with confusion.”Big day? It’s just high school, dad, it’s not like college or anything.”
“I know that, but it’s your first day of a new school year, a school year that you promised to make great, remember?”
“Have you seen Davis?”
“He’s already downstairs eating, better get a move on.”
“This wouldn’t be a problem if you would just buy me a car,” I pointed out.
“Stop hitting mailboxes and maybe we’ll take you for that driver’s test.”
I wanted to be angry at him but couldn’t seem to muster the energy. After all, he was right. I headed past him and to the bathroom to hop in the shower. After getting cleaned up, I got out, pulled on some fresh clothes, ran to my room to grab my backpack, and then bounded down the stairs. When I came into the kitchen, my mom handed me a plate of pancakes and a glass of orange juice.
“You’re cutting it awfully close there,” she remarked. “I need to be at the office early today so I need you both to hurry up and eat. And don’t you dare make a remark about you driving, not after last weekend when you ran over grandma’s garden gnomes.”
Alright, so I admit that I am not that great of a driver. To be honest, I will admit that although I seem to have a fantastic sense of spatial awareness and some amazing reflexes, driving was not something that I was excelling at. I could flip end over end the entire length of the gym and be just fine. I could hit the bullseyes almost every time with my bow and I could even perform some very Jediesque lightsaber moves (complete with twirling, flipping, and handsprings) but driving a vehicle down a relatively wide open space was something I was having an issue with.
“Has anyone seen my phone?” my mom asked.
“Just call it,” Davis suggested around a mouthful of pancakes.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” my mother chided. “And that’s a great suggestion, except I think I left it on vibrate.”
“Just ask her about the first time she drove a stick shift.” My father smiled and come into the room.
“Don’t you dare tell them that story,” my mother warned.
She had moved to the junk drawer and started poking around in there in an attempt to find her phone. She closed it after a few moments and then stood there, tapping her chin and lost in thought.
“Did you look in your car, dear?” my dad asked, pouring some coffee into his travel mug. “Are you guys ready for today?”
“I’m good,” Davis replied, tossing a glance in my direction. “Just as long as he doesn’t go waving rainbow flag around school.”
“Davis!” my mother snapped “That was uncalled for.”
“We’re giving you time to adjust,” my father said slowly. “But don’t say something like that again or you’ll spend your first semester grounded. Do I make myself clear?”
Davis said nothing else and instead dumped his dishes in the sink and then stomped off toward his room upstairs. I watched him go and then sighed heavily.
“And you wondered why I didn’t want to come out at school,” I muttered. “If he’s going to act that way, imagine how others are going to be.”
“He’s still adjusting.”
My dad shook his head. “We talked about this, Lori. He’s going to have to get used to it. We are not going to raise a bigot.”
“Dennis!” my mother snapped. “That’s our son.”
“Um, mom’s right. That’s a little harsh,” I finally said.
“I need to get going,” he said, starting toward the garage door. “We’ll talk about this later.”
And with that, my dad was out the door and on his way to work. He worked at one of the hospitals in Omaha as their director of communication. My mom worked at the same hospital, heading up the patient relations department.
“Davis will get over it, right?” I asked.
“Of course he will, honey.” My mom smiled. “Finish eating, chop chop.”
Davis didn’t say a word on the way to school, at least not to me. He exchanged a few sentences with our mom, but that was it. I knew my brother well enough to know that as long as he felt like he was right about something, there was no way that he was going to apologize for it. I was the same way. Besides, I didn’t want him to say he was sorry unless he was sorry.
Franklin Junior/Senior High was located at the top of a very large hill that overlooked the school’s baseball and football fields. The building itself was of an L shaped design, with a large courtyard out front that was surrounded by evergreen trees. It was three stories, with large windows on the front that faced the parking lot and drive. My mom pulled up along the curb and my brother practically threw himself out of the SUV.
“Have fun,” she shouted after him. But he was already gone, fading into the throng of people that were already milling about the courtyard.
I pushed out a long breath. “Alright, here we go.”
“You have fun too,” she said, giving me a smile. “And remember to be yourself.”
“You always say that.”
“It’s a good message, I could quote Buddha if you want instead.”
I felt myself smile slightly, in spite of my best efforts not too. “No thanks, mom.”
“Then go have fun! Tell Rory and Tab I said hi!”
I nodded and got out of the car, turning to wave at her as she drove off. I’m not sure what I thought I would be feeling when I got out of the car that morning. Maybe nervous? Maybe excited? Maybe terrified?
Truthfully, I think I was a little of all three. I had been going to school with most of my classmates since kindergarten, so I wasn’t sure what I was afraid of. I think a part of me was afraid that they were going to see through my carefully constructed ruse and instantly pick up on my big secret. For a moment I had this rather amusing yet disturbing vision of someone in my class looking at me and then running away in horror screaming about how I was going to try and convert all the straight guys.
I glanced to me left and saw Rory and Tab walking over to me. Tab was already gesturing rather animatedly at the building.
“We saw Davis,” Rory said, as they approached me. “I said hi, but the little asshole didn’t even wave.”
“He’s had a tough morning.”
“You don’t have to defend him if he’s acting like a jerk,” Rory pointed out.
I knew that I didn’t, but he was my little brother. I felt that as long as he wasn’t murdering anyone, I did sort of have to defend him. At least, that was the kind of loyalty that I assumed was expected of me.
Rory then draped his arms over our shoulders. “This our year, gentlemen. Come on.”
“Is he going to be like this all year?” I asked, looking over at Tab.
“Eh, he was like this when we started seventh grade, remember? He went on and on about it for, like, three weeks.”
“Maybe we could trick him into shutting up,” I suggested as we started to walk through the quad. “He likes donuts. We could lace them with something.”
“I’m right here, you know,” Rory retorted.
“Oh, we know.”
We hadn’t walked any longer than a few seconds when Rory pulled us both to a stop.
“There she is, gentlemen, the hottest girl in our class.”
I knew exactly who Rory was talking about. Mostly because he hadn’t shut up about her all damn summer.
“Shawna McPhee,” Rory sighed. He got this goofy look on his face that caused both me and Tab to roll our eyes at the same time.
She was 5’6, with an a
thletic body, shoulder length blonde hair, blue eyes, and from what I understood a great rack for her age (those were Rory’s words not mine.) She had this laugh about her that was infectious, something that even I took notice of.
“Just look at her in all her glory,” Rory said.
It wasn’t to say that Shawna wasn’t attractive, she really was. At least, as far as I could tell. I had realized awhile ago what straight guys were looking for in girls and did my best to pick out those qualities so that I would know what they were talking about. I mean, I knew that a great rack was key, as was a hot ass (before you get all mad about me being PC let me remind you that you were warned) but honestly, I really don’t understand the boob thing. No, really. I mean, how can people get so turned on by two mounds of flesh?
What is it about them? They’re just there on someone’s chest, hanging out and doing nothing. And what’s even more confusing is watching guys turn from intelligent human beings to idiots whenever a girl with nice tits walks in. I swear some of them act like they are having a stroke. Although, now that I think about it, their behavior could be contributed to a lack of blood flow.
Then again, to be completely fair, if you stuck a shirtless Colton Haynes, Tyler Posey, Christopher Pratt, or some other equally as hot guy in front of me, I probably wouldn’t far much better. The body only has a finite amount of blood, you know.
“Dating?” Tab raised an eyebrow. “You think that the two of you are going to be dating by the end of the year.”
Rory made a face that was a mixed between pissed and hurt, finally taking his arms off our shoulders. “Dude, what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Have you ever even talked to her?”
“He’s got a point,” I said, agreeing with Tab. “I don’t even think she knows that you exist.”
“She totally knows that I exist!” insisted Rory.
“If you haven’t ever talked to her, how could she know you exist?” Tab countered.
“You’re being an asshole,” muttered Rory.
“Besides, she’s with Hunter.”
Now, unlike the attraction with Shawna, I could totally see why someone would be attracted to Hunter Call. He was a head taller than me, with a lean swimmer’s body, short blonde hair, and these piercing green eyes. He had these adorable dimples when he smiled. At the moment, he had his hand resting on Shawna’s shoulder in what looked like a very alpha male gesture of saying that she belonged to him.
However, despite Hunter’s insanely good looks, he was a grade-A asshat. I would be lying if there wasn’t a part of me that wanted to see those already low slung shorts dip a bit lower, but there was no way that I would ever act on it. I might punch him in the face, though. He had a habit of pushing someone’s buttons on purpose. Luckily, he mostly stayed away from me and my friends.
“Wait. Do you think Hunter’s hot?” asked Tab.
“Is it going to be this way with every guy in school now?” I sighed.
“Not every guy,” Tab corrected. “But you never answered my question. Do you think that Hunter is hot?”
“Maybe I’m not gonna answer it.”
“That means yes.”
I shot an annoyed look at Rory.
“Still, by the end of the year she’s going to be hanging off me like she is hanging off Hunter,” Rory continued. “And is Danny the only guy that you have the hots for?”
“I really, really, wish that we could find another subject of conversation.”
“You ready for practice next week?” Rory asked, switching the subject. I was grateful to be talking about anything but who I had the hots for.
“I think so,” I nodded.
The truth was that our gymnastics coach didn’t really give us all that much time off. He and his fiance had recently gotten married, which accounted for the fact that we hadn’t practiced for over a week. I had a feeling that he was going to be merciless when we returned. Until then, I was going to enjoy myself.
“Alright, so we’ve already established Rory’s ill-fated mission for this year,” Tab went on. “What about you, given any more thought to, you know, the thing and school.”
“Nope, not going to think about it now,” I replied as we headed toward the building. “Right now, I am going to concern myself with finding my locker and getting to class on time.”
We entered through the main doors, along with the rest of the crowd of people. Hallways led off to the right and left of us with a large staircase that led to the second story right in front of us. I knew that the junior high was at the back of the building and most of my classes would be to the left. The right hallway contained the office, guidance counselor, cafeteria, and gym. Already the flood of people was starting to thin out. We turned to the left and started down the hallway.
“Welcome back, dorks,” Hunter said as we passed his locker. “You guys have fun prancing around on the mat all summer together?”
I rolled my eyes and ignored him. I wanted to start this day off on a good note and getting into a fight with Hunter no more than twenty minutes into the day wasn’t going to accomplish that. Despite the fact that I knew I could lift more than Hunter and pretty much everyone on the whole damn football team, they still insisted that gymnastics was a sport for girls. Rory and Tab both shoot him an annoyed look as we continued toward our lockers.
“Who do you have for Spanish?” Rory asked.
“Mendoza,” I answered. “You?”
“Ms. Krudge,” Rory replied, making a face. “She sounds like she should be an evil old woman.”
“That’s not stereotypical or anything.”
“And that’s why I am taking French.” Tab smiled. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll try and seduce you or something.”
“When are you going to speak French?” I asked. We stopped at my locker and I pulled out my phone to check the combination. “Really, at least with Spanish there is a good chance that you can use it in, like, well, every part of the country. Who in the hell speaks French around here?”
“Canadians,” Tab pointed out with a shrug.
“Some Canadians,” Rory corrected him. “Not all.”
“Whatever,” Tab countered with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll see you guys in English Lit, third period, right?”
“Right,” I nodded. I watched as Tab made his way through the crowd and toward his locker at the end of the hall. “What’s your first class?”
“Math,” Rory replied.
“Better you than me,” I said, shuddering. “I hate math and it hates me.”
“Math is not that hard,” insisted Rory. “I mean, you just follow the rules and finding the answer is pretty easy.”
“Says someone that is good at math.”
I opened my locker, shoved some books inside, and then took a look around the hallway. I kept checking to see if anyone was staring at me or anything. They weren’t. As far as they knew, I was the same kid from last year. Except that I really didn’t feel like the same kid from last year. I felt like I had this giant sign above my head that was advertising, in rainbow colors, the fact that I was gay. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them again, I could see Rory standing there with his brows furrowed.
“Are you alright, dude?”
“Fine.”
“No one knows,” Rory said. “Just chill out, man.”
“Right.” I nodded and shut my locker. “Just chill out. I can do that. I can totally do that.”
“That means stop talking like that.”
“Oh, right.”
“I’ll see you in Lit.” Rory smiled, clapping me on the back. “Just try and not do anything too stupid until then.”
“I’ll try.”
I watched Rory make his way through the crowd and then glanced down at my watch. I was going to be late if I didn’t hurry up and get my butt in gear. I shut my locker and hightailed it back toward the start of the hallway. Tracking down my room number, I managed to get in and find a seat that was near the ba
ck just as the bell was ringing. I looked over and was surprised to see Shawna sliding into the seat next to me.
“Hey, Henry,” she smiled.
“Hey. Did you have a good summer?” I asked.
“Pretty good,” Shawna replied, pulling some notebooks out of her backpack. “Me and my family got to go to Australia. It was pretty awesome.”
“Sounds awesome,” I agreed.
I doubted that my own family would ever make a trip like that. The prime factor being that my father was terrified of air travel. We had no idea why, but he always insisted that they only way we were going to get him on a plane was if we drugged him and then carried his passed out body on ourselves. I thought that might have been a little bit of an overreaction, but so far we hadn’t seen fit to test it.
Mrs. Mendoza came gliding into the room, her floral print summer dress swirling around her. She had short brown hair, blue eyes, and, if I were a straight guy, a body that would have made me think all sorts of inappropriate thoughts about a teacher. Luckily, I wouldn’t have to worry about using my book as a shield in her class. You know what kind of shield I am talking about, and if you don’t, then you are entirely too young to be reading this book. She smiled warmly as she moved behind her desk and grabbed a sheet of paper.
“Buenos Dias.” Mrs. Mendoza beamed. “Welcome to Spanish 1.”
After that, she introduced herself, a transplant from Texas her and her husband had moved back two years ago so that they could be closer to his family. She seemed like a pretty cool teacher and, unlike some of the other ones I had heard about, let us keep our phones as long as we kept them on silent. After that, she handed out the syllabus and our assignments for the first week. So much for easing back into things.
After Spanish came my math class. Ugh. I hated math with a passion, I had no talent for it and found it frustrating as all hell. Luckily, I wasn’t in what you would call the advanced class, which was fine by me. Math was taught by a rather unpleasant little troll of a man named Mr. Joslin. He made us put all our phones in a basket on his desk and then proceeded to tell us that this was going to be the hardest class all semester. Needless to say, I was happy when the bell rang and I hustled out of the room on my way to English Lit.
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