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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. 

Seventeen - 3. Chapter 3

I walked down the stairs, after a long morning shower. I couldn't stop thinking about Jane, and more importantly Brandon; everywhere I looked there was a memory. From the staircase that all three of us had run up and down and played tag on as children, to the table in the centre of the entrance hall, which I’d cracked my head open on - now that was a memory.

Brandon and I had been going through the wrestling phase, and somehow he’d flipped me, causing me to land head first into the corner of the, at the time, square table. Mom replaced it with a round one soon after. How it had happened and the degree of pain were hazy, yet the one thing that stuck in my memory, was the look in Brandon's eyes; a mixture of regret, shock and sheer worry had engulfed him at that moment. He cried more than me as he held my hand whilst Jane ran to fetch help. Yes, my house was filled with memories, old and more recent; good and not so good. I just wished that I knew what was running through Brand's mind, and whether he hated me or not.

Turning at the foot of the stairs, I followed the staircase into the heart of the house as I passed the doors to the living room, the dining room, and finally entered the kitchen at the rear of the house. I checked the breakfast bar and found that a pot of tea had been made, so I poured a cup and added just a splash of milk. I found a pink grapefruit already prepared, and I guessed Mom or Dad had heard me in the shower. I grabbed my breakfast and, guessing my parents weren't in the dining room, I walked through the kitchen and into the conservatory. However, they weren’t there. When I started to think about it, it occurred to me they might have been having breakfast by the pool. Heading to the other side of the conservatory, I passed through the door back into the other side of the house, and found them sitting around a table in the pool room. The problem with big houses is that you never know what room people will be in, especially when there are only three inhabitants.

"Ah good morning m'boy!" my Dad exclaimed, "So you've decided to grace us with your presence?" I was a little puzzled by this at first, as it was 8am, so hardly a late start, but then I realised I'd stayed in my room all yesterday. Once Jane had left, I’d locked myself away and refused to talk to anyone, even when my grandparents were leaving.

"Sorry Dad, Mom," I apologized to them both, turning to face each of them respectively.

"You had us worried, young man. Now are you going to share whatever's the matter?" Mom asked, giving me a soft smile.

"Erm, nothing much to tell, Mom. I was tired and just wanted to go to sleep", I replied, thinking quickly.

"So this sudden onset of drowsiness had nothing to do with the twins leaving? Or with your sullen moods for the past week?" asked Dad, raising an eyebrow.

Week? I had been sullen for a week? I mean I knew that perhaps my confusion and moods had shown more than I would like over the last two days, but I hadn't had control for a week?

"I've not been sullen!" I replied, trying to act offended.

Dad just chuckled, and Mom stood up, making me rise with her.

"Ok, so you don't want to talk to us, that's fine... for now!" she said.
"We both trust you enough to let you deal with your problems yourself. It's the best way to learn after all, " Mom said whilst pulling me into a hug, "But-"

"But don't go forgetting your old folks have lived, and we give damn good advice son. You know we love you and we're both here for you!" Dad interjected, both Mom and Dad sharing a small smile as Dad turned to me and continued, "Now that the lectures out of the way, hurry up and finish your breakfast and I think we'll have a run this morning, yeah?"

I just grinned and nodded my head as I sat down to start breakfast. It was nice to know my parents were there for me, and at that moment I guess I somewhat knew that they would accept me for who I was. That didn't mean I was ready to tell them yet, but I guessed that in time I would. It still shocked me that they'd noticed that I'd been so down lately. I’d always hidden certain feelings, especially ones about my sexuality, so well. I hadn't realised I was letting slip my firm hold on them for the past week. I guess my parents knew me better than I had thought.

-----

Running along the private roads of our gated community, I appreciated how close my father and I were. We’d begun morning exercise when I was 13; I’d wanted to go with him on his morning runs, as well as our occasional morning swims. The exercise was good, but the chance to talk with my dad was what I really enjoyed. Don't get me wrong, he always made time for me, as did Mom, but because they’re both surgeons it was hard to compete with the hours they worked.

"So, what’ve you got planned for today, Brett?" queried my Dad.

"Nothing much. Might go to Starbucks and possibly meet Jane."

"Ah, so you've fallen out with Brand, eh?"

I didn't reply, so he continued. "Look, ok, so you don't want to talk, but you've seemed preoccupied lately, and I can’t fathom what's going on. That's what the worrying thing is, especially since you seem to have had something else lifted off your shoulders. You're a lot less preoccupied today than earlier this week, and that's confusing, seeing as how you appear to have fallen out with Brand."
I just looked blankly at him as we stopped for a drink and faced each other. "All I can say, I suppose, is come to me when you want to talk, ok? I'm worried about you kiddo."

I blushed. Kiddo? I'm 17 for crying out loud, but I let it slide; after all, dad was being understanding.

"I will, Dad. I 'm just not ready to talk yet. I love you, and thanks," I replied, and as his brows began to furrow at my admission that something was wrong, I quickly added, "I am fine though!" With that, I grinned again, and we carried our run on, talking about anything and everything.

-----

Entering my room from the en suite, I flung my towel over my shoulder after drying my hair, from my second shower of the day. Grabbing my cell, I rang Jane and walked to the full-length mirror to check myself out.

"Hey hon," came Jane's sweet voice from the other end of the line, "You ok?"

"Yeah I'm ok. Look we need to talk, so I was wondering if you wanted to grab a Starbucks?" I asked.

"Well, I know that, and yea, sure thing. Gimme an hour to get ready, and you can come get me," came her reply, and with that, she hung up. I chuckled at the phone in my hand; Jane was never one for long phone conversations, unlike most girls her age.

Turning to the mirror, I ruffled my hair and pulled a few faces, scrutinising my skin. Nope! S'all good I thought.

Driving up to the front of the O'Hara residence, I hoped to see Brand, but at the same time I dreaded it. Luckily or not, Jane stepped out of the house at the exact moment I pulled up. She gave me a wave and a smile, and walked to the car in a way that showed her always happy exterior; her walk had almost a skip to it, and watching her come to the car, I thought the guys in school must envy me. They all think I'm dating this angel, and up until last night, I guess I thought that as well.

Opening the car door, Jane flattened her short skirt to her perfectly shaped ass, so as to slide into the passenger seat while maintaining her dignity. She turned her head, flashing me her pearly whites, and tossed her long blonde hair back,

"Hey Hun."

Her smile was infectious, and I couldn't help but grin back. Fluttering her eyelashes, Jane asked, "Are we just going to sit in the car or are we going to the mall?"

"Oh come on, don't tell me you've never played the sit in the car all day game? It's great!" I said as I turned the key in the ignition.

I took one last look at the O'Hara house, turned to Jane, and put a grin on my face.

"He'll come round, just give him time,” Jane said, squeezing my knee to comfort me.

We rode to the mall in near silence; it wasn't like our usual comfortable silences, but we just didn't know what to say to one another. "Shit!" I thought, "Damn, things are weird!" I had hoped very little would have changed. As I pulled into a parking spot, I felt tense, and turning to Jane I was wondering what to say. Luckily she beat me to it and spoke.

"Starbucks, right? Brilliant. Now come on, and don't look so worried", she said, somehow realising that the car ride had made me uneasy. Not really feeling any better, I took Jane by the arm, and we walked into the mall.

Settling down with my hot chocolate, I stirred it aimlessly, not realising Jane was watching me.
"So lets get to the reason you asked to meet up." She seemed so serene, like this conversation was going to be normal, as though my life wasn't changing forever. I felt the heat rise up my neck and cheeks. Blushing furiously, I kept eye contact stable, to avoid looking ashamed or embarrassed, Brandon had taught me that trick, “Always maintain eye contact! Never look scared and you’ll get left alone.”

"Stop being so nervous," Jane said. "I told you, I'm fine with you being gay." She paused in mock thought, and then continued, "You can come shopping!" She grinned impishly over her latte.

I choked on the hot chocolate that I’d just sipped, spluttered, and looked at her. She knew I wasn't a fan of shopping, especially not with girls. I had a flash back of the last time Jane dragged me bra shopping. I had a nightmare that night that two 46F size bra's were chasing me through the department store. Seriously, I'm scarred for life. Looking her in the eye, I couldn't help but laugh at her grin.

"You know I hate shopping… but how are you ok with the gay thing? I mean, I'm happy you are, but you were going out with me! How were you happy if you knew I was gay?" I asked.

Giving me a knowing smile, she took a sip of her drink, as if considering how to explain all to me.

"I'm fine with you being gay, because I love you. Like I said, you will always be my friend." She paused as she took another sip, then giving me a sheepish smile, she continued. "I went out with you to help stop people talking. I thought, if I knew, other people might notice, and I knew you weren't ready for people to know, and..."

"And?" I asked

"And going out with you stopped other guys harassing me," she finished.

I was shocked at first, and even though I could have felt used, I didn't. Jane was not just a friend; even when we were "going out", we were like siblings, we were that close. So I suppose I felt right in doing my bit to protect her from guys.

"You wouldn't get harassed so much if you didn't dress like a slut," I said, trying to appear as serious as possible. However, a straight face is not easily kept when you're having a scone launched at your head. "Ok, ok! I'm sorry! You know I was only joking!" I begged for mock forgiveness.

Jane just smiled at me and continued the conversation. "So when did you know you were gay?"

I paused for only a second, forcing myself to overcome my feelings of shame. "I guess I've always kinda known. I mean I knew I was different at football camp."

"Football camp? The last one you went to was back when I got sent to my first cheerleading one. We were what, nine?" Jane interrupted.

"Eight actually. I knew for sure at about 13." Cracking a rueful smile, I dropped my gaze from Jane. Staring into my empty mug, I chuckled. "I realised I was in love with someone at 13, that's how I knew. That and the fact that half of my gymnastic mates excited me a little too much, if you get what I mean…"
Finally looking back at Jane, I smiled cheekily.

Giggling, Jane carried on her interrogation.
"Who are you in love with then?" Raising an eyebrow, Jane kept steady eye contact. I blushed a vicious crimson, and my eyes flickered away from Jane's.

"Erm, it's no one you know, just some guy from football camp," I lied. She’d said she was ok with me being gay. Would she be ok with me betraying a friendship and secretly being in love with my best friend, her brother?

"You said you realised you were in love with him when you were 13, yet you were at camp when you were 8. So you must have kept in contact..." Jane began to dissect my story. I couldn't keep eye contact, I knew she would work out who I liked. I started to panic and I gripped my mug a little tighter. As her expression turned thoughtful, she bit her bottom lip in concentration. If I looked at just her lips, I could see Brand's. Looking at her lips, I knew I had pretended they were Brandon's when I kissed her.

"Its Brand! Isn't it?"

My gaze shot up as she said that, to see what she was thinking

Copyright © 2011 Excuse; All Rights Reserved.
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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Isn't Starbucks a rather public place to have this conversation ? Anyone could overhear. But Jane is once again shown to be very clever and understanding, if only Brand was a bit more like her (aplogies for spelling his name wrong in previous review).The words 'he'll come around' are always rather ominous.

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