A Different Love - 1. Chapter 1

PART 1 - CONNOR

I’d always known I was different from an early age. The word ‘gay’ had occasionally been used at the small primary school I attended in Hamborough, but no one else, including me, really knew what it meant. I suppose that back then I must have been innocent and totally uncorrupted by life, because it wasn’t until secondary school that I fully began to understand its adopted meaning. Eleven years old! It seemed like a lifetime ago now but that was when the penny finally began to drop! Moving up to secondary school was definitely a shock to the system. After climbing up to the highest class at primary school, we suddenly found ourselves firmly at the bottom of the ladder once again, thrown together with unknown children from surrounding schools. When I say we, what I really mean is myself and Jake. He was my best friend since nursery. No scratch that, my only friend! But then, shortly after we started secondary school together he suddenly left and I had no special friends to speak of, no one to help me through this new and frightening experience. His father had been offered an unexpected promotion abroad and much to my distress, his family moved away. Our sad farewell was the worst thing that had ever happened to me and I was completely devastated that we might never see each other again. We’d always told each other everything and I couldn’t believe he was gone forever. Now here I was at secondary school on my own and it was hard to believe how lonely I felt, even though I was surrounded by so many people.

The crowded playground would fill up with students from every year, pushing and shoving their way about. It was a fairly small fenced area, completely different to the large open playground I was used to. The huge sports field beyond stretched all the way down to the river but it was strictly out of bounds, apart from lessons or after school sports training. Bullying was rife and I learned very quickly who it was best to avoid.

I soon discovered that gay was a word constantly used disparagingly towards those who were deemed not macho enough and it almost seemed that to accuse someone of being gay proved that you were not. Of course that was complete rubbish. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that it was possible for anyone to be gay. It was typical of me but I couldn’t help visiting the library in town on several occasions, determined to read as much as I possibly could on the subject. I soon discovered there were several different theories. Some people believed in the idea that how children were brought up could make a difference; others strongly disagreed, saying that it came down to nothing more than individual choice. That was complete nonsense, as I definitely hadn’t chosen to be this way. For me, the most likely theory and the one I fervently believed in, argued that for some reason we were simply born that way, unable to change our sexual orientation even if we wanted to.

Suddenly the whistle would blow, signifying the end of break time. Students would push and shove amongst each other to form long queues, waiting to return to classrooms for their next lessons to begin.

I slowly became used to secondary school and by the time Christmas had gone by that first year things were definitely looking better. The new term was about to start and amazingly I was even looking forward to going back. I still hadn’t made any real friends, but at least the rest of my class seemed fairly easy to get along with.

There were an odd number of pupils in my form class so there had always been a spare seat as the desks were arranged in two’s. When we’d all started earlier in the year, it just so happened that no one sat next to me and since then everyone had retained their original seats. As the bell rung and we all piled into the classroom on that first day back it was quite a surprise to see someone occupying the spare seat next to mine. His name was Liam Taylor and he had light ginger hair and a face full of freckles. He was painfully shy and timid, hardly acknowledging my cheerful greeting before his face became pink with embarrassment. All of a sudden a rolled up ball of paper whizzed through the air, hitting him squarely on the back of the head. The whole class erupted with laughter but instead of turning around Liam just shook his head and looked at me with an expression of hurtful resignation on his face. Something told me that this was more than just first day blues and I was pretty sure that right now the thing that Liam needed most of all was a friend. I couldn’t bring myself to laugh along with the others and make fun of him, so I picked up the ball of paper and threw it in the nearest waste paper bin. I knew that Jake would have shown him kindness and compassion, so I smiled at him encouragingly, hoping it would make him relax. He silently mouthed the word thanks and a warm feeling immediately spread throughout my stomach. The simple act of kindness seemed to bring him out of his shell and we soon became firm friends. Although he never admitted to being gay it soon became apparent by his slightly camp nature that he almost certainly was and I felt a strange kind of affinity towards him. My heart would begin to beat slightly faster whenever he came too near and every nerve end in my body would tingle if we happened to accidentally brush against each other. From the very outset, it seemed as if Liam became a target for every bully in the school. You only had to display a hint of weakness in that place and once the others had picked up on his slightly effeminate mannerisms, they moved in for the kill. Although he never said as much, I had a sneaking suspicion that being bullied was probably the reason why he’d left his previous school. Because of my own sexuality and a heightened sense of how he must be feeling, I detested the way that people treated him, simply because they thought he was gay. Liam was hopeless at defending himself, preferring instead to try and avoid antagonizing his tormentors in the first place. Of course this was completely ineffective, as they made it their business to seek him out and I soon became involved in countless fights on his behalf. I was determined to protect him as much as I could, but the bullying became so bad that it rapidly reached breaking point. No one seemed to be able to do anything about it and in the end his parents finally moved him to yet another school. Liam and I had been friends for little more than two months but if my time with him had taught me anything at all, it was that keeping quiet about my real feelings was the best defence of all. After constantly protecting him, I was poised and ready for the bullies to automatically shift their attention to me, but surprisingly no one even accused me of being gay.

I never saw Liam again until I was much older, but the whole sorry episode left a nasty taste in my mouth. It seemed that everyone I became friends with disappeared sooner or later and for months afterwards I couldn’t shake the feelings of sadness and depression that dominated my innermost thoughts. The whole episode had a profound effect on my life, causing me to become withdrawn and remote from everyone except my family. The next couple of years were spent mainly alone, hiding in a world of self denial and suppression. My experience with Liam taught me that a large majority of people lacked any degree of understanding or sympathy when it came to the subject of homosexuality and there was no way I wanted to be treated like an outcast. I’d heard the comments many times before, hurtful words like puff, queer, gay boy and faggot directed towards guys who were thought to be gay. To hear people talk you’d think they came from another planet and I just couldn’t face the trauma of coming out at school. I suppose they couldn’t help how they felt; it was the way they’d been brought up or at least the way that society had learnt them to feel. But I couldn’t help the way I felt either, so I thought it best to keep quiet, hide my real feelings, and hope with time they would go away. They never did though and as I grew older they became stronger and stronger.

Unfortunately before long, the inevitable happened and one of the girls in my class wouldn’t take no for an answer. Because of the way I felt, I’d never taken much notice of them before. They tried to be friends with me, constantly flirting and laughing with each other whenever I walked past, but I just usually managed to ignore them, preferring instead to dream of some male Adonis, desperate to sweep me off my feet. Talk about kidding yourself, there was absolutely no chance of that! The best I could hope for was that no one guessed my true sexuality. Quite a few of the guys had girlfriends by now though and my lack of interest was beginning to make me feel more and more exposed and vulnerable. In an attempt to keep up the guise of being straight I even started to flirt back a little with some of the girls, anxious to avoid standing out from the crowd. I had to constantly remind myself that it wasn’t a case of being unable to get a girlfriend, it was just that I didn’t want one. After all, I considered myself to be fairly reasonable in the looks department. When I stood in front of the mirror, the face that stared back at me had reasonably handsome, well defined features, even though I said so myself. It was framed by a shock of unruly brown hair, complimented by deep chestnut coloured eyes and a sprinkling of freckles. I was proud of my slim muscular body, well toned from regular swimming and exercise. For obvious reasons, I’d never made an attempt to date a girl before but the decision was about to be made for me and there was little I could do to avoid it. Her name was Lucy Collins. She was stunningly beautiful and the one girl in my class that most of the guys would have killed to go out with. The details of what happened that day are etched on my brain forever and I couldn’t forget about it even if I wanted to. It was a Thursday afternoon and we were all sitting in the classroom waiting for a math’s lesson to begin. The teacher was renowned for running late and as usual was nowhere to be seen. I was busy revising for a test with my head bent over a book when all of a sudden I heard the empty chair next to mine creak as someone sat down beside me. A warm hand was suddenly placed gently over mine and the aroma of subtle perfume wafted over me. I slowly looked up to find Lucy Collins sitting as close to me as possible and my face immediately turned red with embarrassment. The room had gone deathly silent as everyone strained to see what was going on and all I could do was smile at her anxiously. I was frozen with fear when she insisted we go on a date and for a moment the power of speech completely deserted me. My eyes swept nervously around the room, noting the incredulous faces that struggled to understand my hesitation. It was a no win situation. If I refused to agree, everyone would wonder why and if I accepted….it was just too horrific to think about! Eventually I decided there was no choice but to accept the inevitable and we arranged to meet at the local cinema at 7 o’clock that evening. With a triumphant smile she kissed me seductively on the cheek and returned to her own desk, leaving me panic stricken and shaking. The laughter and general mayhem returned to the class and I could hear comments in incredulous voices like ‘how did he manage that?’ and ‘lucky bastard!’ echoing around the room. Every time I gazed at the clock the hands seemed to have taken on a life of their own and within no time at all school had ended. As I was leaving the classroom I felt a hand rest on my shoulder and Lucy whispered a totally superfluous reminder in my ear.