The Dreamer - 1. Chapter 1 - High School Confidential

The bell rang, its sharp, metallic tone cutting through the hallway noise. Lockers slammed shut, and everyone rushed to their next class, but I stood leaning against my locker. It felt like I was underwater, the sounds around me muffled and distant, like they didn’t quite reach me.

I adjusted my backpack, feeling the familiar weight settle on my shoulders. It wasn’t just the textbooks inside that made it heavy, though. It was everything else—the stares, the whispers, the way people who used to be my friends now avoided my eyes. I wasn’t invisible, but I wished I were.

The walls were plastered with the usual posters—bright, colourful reminders of everything that was supposed to matter. The homecoming game, the dance, the next pep rally. Everyone else seemed so excited, but I couldn’t care less. I glanced at one of the posters: “Don’t Miss the Game! Friday Night!” I felt a twist in my gut. Their lives were moving forward, while mine felt stuck, as if I were standing still while everyone else was rushing past.

As a high school senior, I should have felt more in control, like I was finally on the verge of something bigger, something real. But instead, I was in my final year of high school, and all I felt was trapped, like I’d missed some critical step everyone else had taken. They were planning their futures, talking about college, jobs, and life beyond these walls. And me? I was just trying to make it through another day without falling apart.

I started walking to my next class, eyes forward, focusing on the door ahead. I could feel the whispers trailing behind me, and I could almost hear them, even though the voices were low. There was a time when I’d have tried to listen, tried to fit in, and maybe even laugh along with their jokes. But that time was long gone.

As I passed a group of boys, their laughter got louder. It was forced, meant for me to hear. “Better stay away from us,” one of them muttered, just loud enough for it to hit me like a slap. “Don’t want to catch anything.” The others snickered. I kept walking, didn’t even glance their way. I’d learned that was the best way—keep moving, don’t let them see it get to you.

But it did get to me. Every single time.

By the time I reached the classroom, I felt like I could finally breathe again. I slipped into my seat, trying to shake off the tension in my shoulders. The teacher was already at the chalkboard, scribbling something about the Industrial Revolution, completely oblivious to the crap that went on just outside the door. I pulled out my notebook and tried to focus, but my mind kept wandering back to the hallway, replaying the morning, bracing for whatever might come next.

My mind kept drifting back to the incredible summer that I had.

As I sat in that classroom, pretending to take notes, my thoughts kept drifting away from the teacher’s monotone voice and the chalkboard filled with dates and facts. My mind was elsewhere, pulled back to the one time in recent memory when I felt like I could breathe. It was like a lifeline, that summer, a brief escape from the reality of school and the suffocating weight of everyone’s expectations. I’d never needed a break from my life as much as I did then, and that summer gave me exactly that.

Summer was my escape. After everything that happened during the school year I needed to get away from it all, to find some kind of peace, or at least a break from the constant tension. I spent most of my days biking around town, wandering through the local park, or losing myself in books. It was on one of those aimless afternoons that I met Tony.

It happened by chance, really. I was sitting on a bench by the lake, trying to ignore the world by burying my nose in a book, when he walked up to me. I noticed him out of the corner of my eye—tall, with dark hair that fell into his eyes and a smile that seemed too bright for a random summer day. He asked me about the book I was reading, and before I knew it, we were talking like we’d known each other for years.

Tony was different from anyone I knew at school. He was confident, open minded, and didn’t seem to care what anyone thought of him. He talked about everything—music, movies, his plans for the future—and he actually listened when I spoke, something I wasn’t used to. We started hanging out more often, meeting up at the park or grabbing a soda at the diner down the street. It didn’t take long before we were spending almost every day together.

I didn’t realize how much I needed someone like Tony until he was there. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could be myself around someone. I didn’t have to hide or pretend. We’d talk for hours, about the most random things, or sometimes about things that really mattered.

One day, we rode our bikes out to a spot by the river, a place we’d found a few weeks earlier. It was quiet there, hidden away from the world, with the sound of the water rushing over the rocks and the trees swaying in the breeze. We spent the afternoon just talking, skipping stones across the surface of the water, and lying on the grass, watching the clouds drift by.

“You ever think about just leaving this town?” Tony asked out of nowhere, his voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Starting fresh somewhere no one knows us?”

I turned to look at him, surprised by the question. “All the time. But where would we go?”

He smiled, a little wistfully. “Anywhere. Somewhere with a beach, maybe. We could get a little place, just us. No more hiding.”

I smiled back, the idea of it so appealing that I almost let myself believe it could happen. “That sounds perfect,” I said, and for a moment, it felt like it really could be.

As the weeks went by, our bond grew stronger. Tony was the first person I felt like I could really be myself around, without fear of judgment or rejection. He made me feel seen, understood in a way I hadn’t been before. We had our own little world, just the two of us, and I cherished every moment we spent together.

There were times when I caught myself staring at him, wondering if he felt the same way I did. There was something unspoken between us, something electric that hung in the air whenever we were close. I wasn’t sure how to act on it, though, and I didn’t want to ruin what we had. But the more time we spent together, the harder it became to ignore.

One evening, after we’d spent the day at the beach, we ended up back at his place. His parents were out of town, so we had the house to ourselves. We were watching some old movie on TV, not really paying attention, when he turned to me and asked, “Do you ever feel like you’re just waiting for your real life to start?”

I remember nodding, feeling that question deep in my bones. “Yeah,” I said. “All the time.”

There was a long pause, the kind where you can tell something important is about to happen but you don’t know what. I could feel the tension building between us, the air growing thick with unspoken words. Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him.

What had I done? Panic flashed through me, and I quickly pulled away, my heart racing. But Tony stopped me, his hand gently catching my arm.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady. “It’s okay.”

Then he kissed me back, and suddenly everything felt right. It was like the world had been off-balance for so long, and now, just for a moment, everything clicked into place.

That night was my first time with another guy. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and it was mine. Afterward, we lay there, not saying much, just letting the silence fill the room. I felt closer to Tony than I’d ever felt to anyone before. There was no shame, no fear—just the quiet understanding that this was a part of me, a part of us.

When summer ended, and we both had to face the real world again, I knew things would change. But no matter what happened next, I had that summer, and I had Tony. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t just surviving. I was living.

But summer didn’t last forever. As August rolled around and the days started getting shorter, I began to feel a sense of dread creeping in. School was just around the corner, and I wasn’t ready to go back to the stares, the whispers, and the constant tension. The only thing that kept me grounded was Tony. I figured that as long as I had him, I could get through anything.

Then, one day, he was just… gone.

It happened so fast I didn’t even see it coming. One evening, I biked over to his house like usual, but when I got there, the place was empty. Not just the usual quiet when his parents were out, but completely empty. The blinds were drawn, the lawn unkempt, and the porch light was off. I knocked on the door, but no one answered. I called his name, but there was only silence.

The next morning, I went back, thinking maybe I’d imagined it, maybe there was some logical explanation. But the For Sale sign on the lawn told me everything I needed to know. Tony was gone. Moved away, just like that. No goodbye, no explanation. Nothing.

I couldn’t believe it at first. I kept thinking it was some kind of mistake, that he’d show up at the park or call me, saying it was all just a mix-up. But days turned into weeks, and the reality settled in. He wasn’t coming back.

The worst part was the not knowing. Why hadn’t he told me? Did I do something wrong? Did he feel something I hadn’t seen? I replayed our last conversation over and over in my head, looking for clues, for anything that might explain why he’d just disappear. But there was nothing. Just the memory of his smile, his laugh, the way he made me feel like I was finally seen, finally understood.

For a while, I was angry. Angry at him for leaving, angry at myself for caring so much, for letting someone in when I knew how easily things could fall apart. But the anger didn’t last. It couldn’t, not when all I really felt was sadness. Tony had been my anchor, the one thing that made that summer bearable, even beautiful. Without him, I was adrift again, lost in a sea of confusion and loneliness.

When school started, it was like waking up from a dream. The hallways were just as harsh as before, the whispers louder than ever. But now, there was an emptiness inside me that hadn’t been there before. I tried to hold onto the memories of that summer, of the way Tony made me feel, but they slipped through my fingers like sand.

I told myself that I’d move on, that I’d find someone else, maybe even someone who wouldn’t leave without a word. But deep down, I knew that what I had with Tony was special, a moment in time that I couldn’t get back. And so I carried it with me, tucked away in the quietest part of my heart, a reminder of what could have been, and what I’d lost.

Looking back, I guess it was inevitable that my secret wouldn’t stay hidden forever. I came out to my parents not by choice, but because I didn’t have any other option.

It was a few months before that summer, just before the end of the school year. I’d been careful, or at least I thought I had. But living in a small town meant that secrets had a way of slipping through the cracks. Tony and I hadn’t even started hanging out yet, but I’d met a few guys in town, talked to them in ways I couldn’t talk to anyone else, and, well, I guess I got too comfortable.

It all blew up when some kids in town saw me with one of those guys. It was late one night, and we were hanging out by the river, just talking, maybe flirting a little, but nothing serious. We weren’t even doing anything, really, but that didn’t matter to them. The next day, I started hearing the whispers, the side glances, the smirks. I thought I could brush it off, but that’s when the rumors started.

I tried to keep it together, but one afternoon, when I walked into the house, I knew something was wrong. The moment I saw my mom sitting at the kitchen table, her face pale, I felt my heart drop. She was holding something in her hands, clutching it tightly like it was a lifeline. I’ll never forget the look in her eyes—a mix of confusion, fear, and hurt.

‘What is this?’ she asked, her voice trembling as she held up a small, folded piece of paper. It was a note, something I’d written in my journal or maybe a letter I’d started but never sent. It wasn’t addressed to anyone, but the words on it were clear—they were my words, my thoughts, about feelings I hadn’t shared with anyone. I must have carelessly left it out, thinking no one would find it. But she had, and now everything was out in the open.

I didn’t have an answer that would make it better. The words on that page had been private, something I was still figuring out myself, but now they were laid bare in front of her. So, I just told the truth.

‘Mom, I’m gay.’

The silence that followed felt like it lasted an eternity. My dad came in from the garage, wiping grease from his hands, and she handed him the papers without saying a word. He read them, his face going from confusion to something I couldn’t quite read. Anger? Disappointment? Fear? I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to find out.

I braced myself for the worst, for yelling, for rejection, for them telling me to get out. But instead, my dad just stared at me, his eyes hard and unyielding. ‘This isn’t something you can just decide,’ he said finally, his voice cold. ‘You’re too young to know what you want.’

‘I know who I am,’ I shot back, the words coming out before I could stop them. My heart was pounding in my chest, my whole body trembling. I hadn’t planned on coming out like this. I hadn’t even planned on coming out at all, not yet. But there I was, standing in my own kitchen, feeling more like a stranger in my own home than I ever had before.

My mom didn’t say anything, just looked away, her eyes filling with tears. My dad shook his head and left the room without another word. And just like that, it was out there. I was out there. There was no going back.

The days that followed were tense. My parents didn’t talk about it again, not directly. My dad just threw himself into work, spending even more time in the garage. My mom tried to act like nothing had changed, but the way she looked at me, like she didn’t know who I was anymore, was worse than any words she could have said.

I felt like I was living in a bubble, where everything was the same but completely different. I was still their son, but I was also something else now—something they didn’t understand, something they didn’t know how to deal with.

And then, as if the universe wasn’t done with me, Tony came into my life. He was like a lifeline, something to hold onto when everything else was falling apart.