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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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. 

It Wasn't Me - 17. Chapter 17-New Make-up

Hey Jake its James,

I am now in the 11th grade. I've lived with Tony for over a year. Tony and I are doing well… there are just some topics that we avoid. Matt is still dating Alfreda, in fact they're basicly planning their wedding…so that's going on. I've been dating a lot too…but um…nobody special. Just hit and runs. I've had sex with…multiple girls by now… the girls seem to think I'm good at you know the sex stuff. But just out of curiously… how pleasurable is sex supposed to be? I mean I keep sleeping with these girls so…never mind. So how are you?

I was fixing my hair in my locker mirror.

"Okay, you're perfect." Matt whined. "Now can we go?"

"Hold on a minute" I smirked moving some stands of hair into my face.

Matt grabbed my head and started messing with my hair.

I puled his hands down, "Matt, come on.”

I adjusted his glasses.

"I know I sound crazy." He panicked, "It's just that I'm surrounded by people with great hair and good looks."

Well he is right. I do have amazing hair.

Then of course Alfreda walks with her beautiful blonde locks, "Hey, what’s going on?"

Matt shook his head, "It's nothing I'm just a little insecure about my looks today."

"Oh come looks don't matter" she sugar-coated.

"Well that's easy for you to say your gorgeous." Matt smirked.

She just smiled and shook her head, "The only reason you think I'm good-looking is because you care about me. I know I don't matter what I looked like…"

"Well you don't have a giant nose and uncontrollable curly hair." He went on.

I bit my lip. I couldn’t have told him I thought he was cute. But guys don’t say that to each other.

Then I started to notice something different about Alfreda,

"You're wearing make-up?" I blurted out.

Her eyes shift nervously while she played with her hair, "Yea. so what?"

I shifted my eyes confused, "I didn't think you wore make-up."

It was true. Alfreda always made a point how real and natural she was. Not to mention growing up to go against, as her parents called them, the fat cat cosmetic companies that subject women. Wearing make-up seem to go against everything about her.

"Well." she stated, "I'm growing up and I think perfectly reasonable for a teenage girl, which I am, to add a little to her look."

I nodded, "Yea, of course."

***

"I can't believe this." Matt groaned dropping his head on my desk.

"Now I'm even more insecure. Just look at her."

I looked over at the pack of guys gathered around her and I also saw Alfreda flirting back. Alfreda wasn't herself. She was acting like a ditz. The Alfreda that I've known for 12 years didn't flip her hair. She didn't cast a girly laugh when some guy told her a cheesy joke. The Alfreda I knew seemed above that, smarter than that.

I started lightly patting Matt's head.

%%%%

Leah Thompson was giving me a blow job in the girl's bathroom. But I was...distracted...yea that's the word I'll stick with. I heard the open and saw Alfreda's sandels.

"Hey Leah, thanks a lot but I have to go talk to someone."

She nodded and put my dick back in my jeans. "Call me" she whispered before she opened the stall and walked out.

Alfreda shot me a dirty look.

I brushed off the remark, "Okay I think we need to talk .”

She stopped playing with hair to stare at me, "Is Matt Okay?"

I put my head against the wall, "In all time that I've known you I can't remember you ever looking and acting like this."

She rolled her eyes, "Come on James, everybody only cares about how they look."

"But you never did." I spoke "You never cared what other people did either."

She looked at me for a minute then frowned. "Jamie?"

I was surprised that she called me Jamie, she never did that before.

"Yea?" I replied.

She stared at a sink mirror, "James…you're a guy…right?"

I nodded, "Yea?"

She took a breath, "Is it normal for guys to…mumble things while their making out?"

I raised my eyebrow, "Mumbling? Matt mumbles? While you're making out?"

"Yea…" She nodded,"he um…he says…he says names."

"Names? What names?"

She put one of her hands on her forehead, "Dose Matt find me attractive?"

I felt something strange was going on. I got this sickening feeling. "What? Why would you ask that? Don't you see the way he looks at you?"

Then she mumbled something. Something she didn't plan on me hearing. But I did hear it.

"Yea, but you should see the way he looks at you."

"What? What do you mean that?" I asked.

She bit her lip, "Oh you know. Matt's face when he looks at you…that goofy yet charming smile and the way his eyes follow you. It's like he's…" she stopped herself.

"What?" I barked.

"I think it's he's just jealous of you…of your hair and stuff." She nodded. She nodded more to herself than to me. She started playing with her hands, "Yea that's why he looks at you like that because he likes your hair." Her voice started speeding up,"I just keeping about English class and that literally theme, appearance versus reality. And when I think about it. It scars me not to know difference. What if I'm wrong James? What if I'm right? What if I'm either?"

Her panic scared me. "Okay Alfreda" I hugged her, "There's nothing to worry about. Matt loves you."

*** 

That night I was having sex with Jennifer Nelson. Jennifer was a bitch…but she also tall, blonde, and popular, which was the reason I think I went out with her. Sex with Jennifer felt even more annoying, because she yelled out demands. But…her bedroom had posters. Posters of half-naked guys, Hollywood heart throbs actually. I know this sounds messed up, but the only way I could "get through it" was to put my attention on those posters. Then I fought with myself about it all the way home.

The guilt was boiling over as I sat down on Donovan's couch. I wanted to remove some my heavy make-up. I needed to talk to somebody.

"Tony."

"Yea, Hunter." He replied as he washed the dishes.

"Okay there is something to need to share…I don't…like having sex with girls."

Imagery black lines were coming down my face. "In fact the only way I can even kiss them is if I…think about guys…in that way." I cried.

I heard Donovan putting down a plate and walking closer.

"See, I just have these feelings…feelings that I don't want to feel."

I looked up at him then back down, "I remember reading the scarlet letter my first year in your class. And the in the book the main character, Hester Prime wears a big red A on her chest, to show everybody "the kind of person she is". I feel like I have my own scarlet letter. I felt like people see it. So I want to cover it up…but instead our the letter A I wear the letter F…for faggot."

Donovan grasped, "Hunter, are there people calling you that?"

I nodded and starting spitting the stories about Bobby and Joey. I'll admit it feel amazing talking to someone about. By the time I was done the pig had left the room and I was talking directly to Donovan.

He lightly rubbed my shoulder, "Hunter, those guys are scrum. There is nothing wrong with you being gay."

That word again. That word scared me.

"I'm not gay" I snapped. I quickly wiped away the tears and shook my head, "Don't you dare call me that."

"Hunter." Donovan tried to reach out, "Don't worry I won't tell anybody."

I stood up and yelled, "I'm not a faggot."

"I understand in the environment you were raised in…" He rubbed his neck, "I see that the projects wouldn't be a very open-minded place for homosexuality."

Wow, homosexuality that sounded like such a big word.

I nodded, "Yes, Yes…the projects aren't really that open to ho…mo…sexual…ity" Saying that word felt funny.

Gay. Homosexuality. Those big scared me into reapplying my make-up.

"Never mind. Forget I ever said anything."

I ran to my bed and pulled out my mother's lipstick. I closed my eyes and remembered a childhood memory.

When I first held the Maria red lipstick and I asked my mom, "Why do they name it Maria red?"

She smiled at me. "Because the name Maria." She said shaking her shoulders and rolling the r. "Sounds like a woman that's sexy, bold, and fearless. She is the kind of woman that's in control of her life. I love that name."

"So why do we put on makeup?" I asked her.

"To cover up, to cover up babe."

Copyright © 2015 Another Gay Writer; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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