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- 06/18/2013
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Bad Stereotypes - 29. Monday 7th January 2013
I’d told my parents when I’d gotten home that I was gay and I was sure about it and that they didn’t have to worry, and then I’d gone for the longest run of my life and for some completely unknown reason had ended up at Lena’s house. She’d let me in without a word, and from the look on her face, I knew that Zach had already called her.
“So all that shit on your birthday?” Lena handed me a soda as I sat on the floor of her bedroom, panting and shaking with post-run exhaustion. “You knew back then?”
“Yeah. I knew.”
“And Zach’s the one who does it for you?” I nodded glumly, “Christ Bay could you have picked a straighter guy? He’s slept with most of the girls in the sixth form.”
I shook my head and downed my drink in one long gulp.
“He hates me.”
“After what you said to him are you surprised Bay?” Lena folded her arms across her chest and folded herself crossed legged on her bed, “Guy finds out that his best friend is gay because you tried to kiss him and you went off on one at him because he was nice to you.”
I hated that what she said made complete and total sense. Lena had always been way too sensible.
“He treated me like a child Lena,” I held my head up with my hands, and my words sounded ridiculous even to myself, “Like because I was gay I needed him to look after me or some shit.”
“Ordinarily I’d just say give him time, but I think you’ve pretty much screwed that friendship now haven’t you? Fucking hell Bay, what are you going to do about your parents?”
“Fuck that. What am I gonna do about school?” I got up to go and Lena stood and put her hand on my arm.
“Bay. All the guys say you went missing every week for like a year, all over last winter and most of the summer. Where’d you go?”
I shook my head. Lena was a stand-up girl, and I was pleased she’d let me back in as a friend, but there were some things it was best not the share.
“Running.”
The first day back at school after the Christmas break was always weird. It felt strange to know that in five short months we’d be graduating, that everyone would be going in different directions, that we’d be ‘adults’ in the big bad world. Other people in my year had university places, travel plans, jobs lined up, internships and advanced college courses. I was good at running and lying. And apparently screwing up my life. The only other special skill I had was being really good in bed and making other guys scream and moan under me. I doubted that those activities were particularly marketable.
The day before my mother and sister had dragged me out shopping with them, and I’d come to the shocking realisation that now that I was officially ‘gay’ that I was supposed to have an opinion about the clothes they wanted to buy. My sister wanted me to help her pick out underwear. I practically threw up. I missed the old days where I could just sit with my dad and be handed the bags to carry. I picked out my own clothes for school, and my mother tutted over my choices like she somehow expected my tastes to be different now.
Zachary Sarver had made good on his promise. Everyone knew. All that day people kept on walking up to me to ask if it was true, was I really gay? Mostly I just nodded, and ducked out of supportive hugs (from the girls) and watched my male friends go through various mixed emotions ranging from smiling acceptance with a fear behind the eyes to outright disgust. I didn’t shout at anyone, I didn’t get into any fights.
Miles and David both waved to me, but at lunch I didn’t go over to them to say hi. Zach sat with his back to me and neither of us said a word. Lena was right, there was no going back there: I’d burned up all the land we could have negotiated on by being a total and complete dick to him. Zach was pretty, but the sight of him no longer held my attention. We weren’t friends, the lust was gone.
I spent the whole of the afternoon with my music plugged it, angry guitars turning my brain cells to mush to stop me from thinking too hard. Our coach had relieved us from practice that first day back, so I was headed to my locker when I saw him. Alex.
As I walked it shocked me to find that he was taller than me now. His hair was dyed black with a purple section through the front and straightened, and his clothes were a mix of super tight and extra baggy in a way that supposedly meant fashion. I stopped short when I got within ten feet of him. He had his arm around another beautiful skinny boy with floppy blond hair and eyeliner. I knew I looked like shit, a perfect combination of not sleeping and stress. The boy I’d once known looked me up and down, and I hated that I was still and would forever be short.
“Faggot.” He sneered, then steered his boyfriend around me and walked away down the corridor.
I deserved that, but it didn’t stop me from crumpling into a heap when I reached my locker.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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