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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. 

The Secret Life of Billy Chase 4 - 6. Chapter 6

Saturday - Fuck! This has been a day right out of a fucking comic book! I have literally been stripped down to shorts and no shirts and subjected to teen slave labor, thanks to the details of my 'punishment'. And when added to the fact that my mom was just looking for a reason to teach me a lesson for having a party while she was out of town, and the fact that the phone call from my dad fired her up even more...I'm, like, TRIPLE fucked!

That's so not cool. Especially when I'm already hurting over something....'else'.

And it all started with me having to mow the lawn this morning! Let me let you in on a little secret about mowing the lawn in 85* - 95* heat...it fucking SUCKS, ok? In every possible way that it COULD suck! It's already hot enough that you don't even wanna move, but then you gotta go out and run this heated machine that's basically blowing hot air on your legs the entire time, and vibrating your arms enough to make you sweat from head to toe. I took my shirt off, and just tried to mow the lawn in nothing but my shorts, but sometimes that makes everything even worse, because now, whenever I try to wipe the sweat off of my face with my bare arm (which is ALSO sweaty, by the way!), then I get sweat in my eyes! And that STINGS like a mother fucker!!!

THEN...you've got these green shards of grass sticking to the perspiration on my legs, even under my SOCKS! How the fuck does that even HAPPEN??? And it ITCHES!!! You're hot, you're sticky, you're itchy, you're dripping wet with sweat stinging the HELL out of your eyes, the hot sun is baking the hell out of your bare chest and back...and you're pushing this flame spitting contraption that seems to simultaneously be pelting you with green shrapnel every step of the way! And that was just the BEGINNING of my Saturday! Doing that, while watching my Mom sip ice cold lemonade through the window in a nicely air conditioned house, watching the 'Lifetime' channel. Sighhhh...SO unfair!

God, when I came back in the house, I was so red that I was afraid the sunburn was gonna peel for weeks afterwards. I looked like a goddamn strawberry from the waist up! It took TWO showers to keep me from scratching and twitching all day!

And when I came out of the bathroom, my mom got me something to drink from the fridge. I don't think a crystal clear Sprite ever tasted so good. I sat on the floor not far from here in the living room, the fan blowing cool air on me, and I was so fatigued and relaxed from going from one extreme to the other, that I almost fell asleep immediately in front of the television. My mom actually watched me snore a bit with my eyes still open, and I don't know if she sympathized with me or what, but it made her smile for a minute or two. Then...she asked me a question that I did NOT wanna answer!

She was like, "Billy...come on, talk to me. What's going on with you? Why are you fighting at school? This isn't like you."

I mean...what the hell was I supposed to say? How do I explain why, at that particular moment in time, I thought that Bobby Jinette deserved to get wailed on? What am I gonna do? I CAN'T just say, 'oh yeah, well, he ruined things with my GAY relationship! So I hit him!' I'm stuck! I know the truth, and I know that my emotions are strong enough to support that truth no matter WHAT anybody else thinks..but...I CAN'T say it! I just can't! I wish I could, but...there is so much at stake with telling the truth...that it just isn't worth it. I mean...total destruction of my identity is not really a favorable option in high school. Reputation is...well...EVERYTHING! And that party should have been my ticket to a long life of popularity and good times. Instead...it's probably one of the most dismal and miserable memories that I'm ever gonna have from my childhood. That night that lost....everything.

Omigod...and my mom, after a lack of answers from me other than, 'it was nothing major. It just happened.'....she kinda cut off the whole 'sympathy' idea entirely. I guess that's my punishment for not coming clean with the truth. And that landed me right back at square one as far as being in trouble was concerned. Sighhhh...wonderful. Just what I needed, another angry parent. Next thing I knew, she was taking me out to the grocery store with her to go shopping.

Is there any worse punishment than THAT?

And that's not all!

So...my mom and I are walking around the grocery store, picking up whatever boring ass food and garbage that we needed at the house. Sorry. I'm not much for the grocery store. There are no electronics, or toys or good magazines, or ANYTHING to look at while you're mom is picking up...well...'neccesary' shit. UGH! Borrrrring! Anyway, I'm trying not to roll my eyes as my mom is looking at...I don't know...what can of creamed CORN or something to buy...and I hear my name from half way down the aisle.

And it's Jimmy LaPlane, right there in the store with his mom, evidently having a much better time than I am. Now, normally, the idea of a gay boy calling out my name in front of my MOM in a public place would give me a freaking heart attack! But it was such a welcome distraction that I honestly welcomed it with open arms. Jimmy's Mom said hello to me, and met my mom for the first time since...well...Jimmy's 'accident'. I was technically still on punishment, but there's no way my mom would stop me from talking to a post suicidal teenage boy in a supermarket in front of his mother. So as soon as our parents started a 'polite but awkward' conversation...I allowed Jimmy to pull me off down the aisle to escape things for a few minutes. Thank God!

So, Jimmy is all big grins and giggles, and I'm wondering what the hell his problem is. He literally has a hold of my arm, and he's dragging me a few aisles away. I'm like, "Dude...what is with you today?"

So we're standing in the cereal aisle, he looks around for a second, and he's like, "Billy! Dude! I think I have a boyfriend!" And he's almost jumping up and down from the excitement of it.

I'm like, "You THINK you have a boyfriend?"

And he's all, "Well, I don't know for SURE yet, but I know he's gay, and we traded numbers at the mall last weekend right before coming to your party on Saturday...and we've been emailing and calling each other on the phone ever since!" He was pulling on my shirt sleeve, and it kinda annoyed me to see him so...so...goddamn HAPPY! Arrrgh! Why is EVERYBODY happy but me?

So, I TRY to pretend that I'm glad that he's so cheerful. I say, "Wow...well, that's awesome, Jimmy."

He's getting all dreamy on me, and says, "He's soooooo cute, Billy! I swear, he's like...amazing." I hope he didn't see me rolling my eyes while I was pouting inside. He's all, "His name is Alex...and we're just trying to find some time to get together and maybe have some lunch or something. Just to see if we 'click', you know? Omigod, I'm so excited!!! You can't imagine how cute he is!"

I'm like, "Cuter than Lee?" I mumbled, and Jimmy kinda gave me a strange look. I don't know, maybe I said it to be malicious, and it wasn't really fair. So I'm like, "Sorry."

Jimmy's mom came around the corner looking for him, and his smile came back. He was like, "Don't say nothing, k? I don't want her to know yet! I want to kinda make it 'official' first." Then he gave my arm one more big squeeze as he squealed, "I'm TOTALLY gonna have a boyfriend!!! Eeeek!FUCK, that's awesome!!!"

And then his mom walked up as Jimmy was telling me to 'hush up', and she's like, "Your mother is looking for you, Billy." But then she says, "You should come to the house more often. I know Jimmy misses having you over."

To which Jimmy let out a humiliated, "Mom...Jesus..."

I just had to kinda nod and say, "Yeah, I've just been busy with stuff lately. That's all. So..." I let it fade out, and shrugged my shoulders. "Well, I gotta go. I'll see you later Jimmy." God, I don't know why it hurt so much to see that big ass grin on his face, but it did. I guess...sighhhh...I guess I just miss being happy too.

The second I went back over to where my mom was, it was made clear that I was right back on 'punishment', despite my five minute break from it. And I was stuck pushing the cart for another forty minutes in silence while I tried not to look too gloomy in the face about it.

I don't know what else to say about today really. It was actually kinda depressing when I got home. I noticed that Simon called again, but when I asked my mom if I could call him back, she said I could use the phone again on Thursday, and not a day before. Then she started cooking dinner...messing up dishes that I'd be stuck scrubbing for the rest of the night, I'm sure.

Like I said, life sucks.

Maybe I should just talk to Simon about all of this on Monday. I mean...he's smart, right? I don't know if he could be classified as a 'relationship expert', but if he could give me ANY kind of strategy whatsoever on how to get my Brandon back...I'll take it. I just want to feel whole again. Because right now, what's left of me without Brandon in my life...isn't a whole lot to stand on.

Anyway, I've gotta scrub the bathtub and the sink tonight, so I might as well get started on it. It's not like I've got anything ELSE to do. See ya later.

- Billy

Copyright © 2010 Comicality; 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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