18 Weeks of Twoey - 2. Week One Tuesday September 2, 2014: Twoey

“I hate when my mother gives me those pitiful looks and talks about me not having a girlfriend!” The run was a little less tiring this morning.

“So just get one. It's no big deal. Girls want boyfriends. Just do it!”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“But David, wear some cooler stuff. I mean, tees and shorts or old jeans are okay sometimes, but every once in a while you gotta get their attention.” So ...I thought about that. Next time we go to Syracuse I’ll have to bug my mother into letting me shop at A&F and other cool stores.

On our way back we noticed the Turner house. The garage door was open and there was a mess of empty boxes inside, and a lady standing with her hands on her hips, just looking at them. “Go for it, Gary. Let's see what the score is.”

We ran up the driveway as Gary took over ...I did mention he loves to talk. I simply stood behind him and chuckled as he made his pitch.

“Hi there, welcome to the neighborhood! I'm Gary and that's David and we noticed you just moved in. Is there something we can help you with?”

“Oh ...Hi Gary, how thoughtful of you. I'm Ginny Messer. I was just wondering what to do with all these boxes.”

“Oh, that's easy. Have Mr. Messer cut them up and bundle the pieces and the city workers will take them for recycling on your garbage day. That's usually Tuesdays, but because of Labor Day it'll be tomorrow this week. So you’re timing is good.”

“Thanks Gary, but ... um ...there is no Mr. Messer, we're divorced. That's the reason we moved.”

Now I don’t know WHY, but that bothered me. It made me sad. I just thought about my own parents and how it would affect me if that ever happened to my family, in spite of my mother. It really spooked me, and usually stuff doesn’t have such an effect. I even shivered a little.

“Oh, you're all alone? Well, David and I will cut them up for you.” Gary was talking fast and gesticulating as always.

“No, that's all right, Gary. Thanks for the offer but Michael can do that. He's my son. It's just the two of us. I should have told you. Look, there he is now.”

A boy about our age came out the door. Reddish-brown hair and gleaming eyes topped a stunningly thin and fit body which was clad in a soft, hugging tee that showed off everything. I mean, I'm not gay or anything, but there was a strange twist in the center of my body, right in the pit of my stomach! It wasn't just his good looks, there was simply something about HIM. Supple and feral and feline--that's it, like a panther--but with auburn hair. The only thing missing was a smile. He frowned and strode right over.

“Is there a problem here, Mom?”

“No, honey. These nice boys sort of welcomed us to the neighborhood and asked if they could help.” His face softened a bit.

“Oh, that’s cool. Do you guys live around here?” His voice was rich and smooth but firm.

Gary pointed and said, “I’m Gary and live one street over there on Cherry.”

“Hey, Gary. I'm Michael, but only Mom calls me that. Call me Twoey.”

“Twoey? Is that a nickname?”

“Yeah, it's a long story. I'll tell you another time.”

"Okay, Twoey, this is David and he lives three houses from me.” Gary moved aside so ‘Twoey’ saw me for the first time. His eyes were bright green--I could see that now. It made him even more feral! Our gazes locked and a funny feeling suddenly hit my chest, maybe because he was so close.

His smile faded. I almost shit myself. Did he notice me staring at him before? How could I get out of this? There was a silence that hung for a few seconds. Then suddenly, the most beautiful smile broke out on his face. “Hey, David! Sorry for spacing out, but my best friend in Syracuse was blond and you just sort of reminded me of him for a second.” I stood frozen because his eyes and my eyes had stayed locked and I felt he was looking right into my soul, or whatever it is that makes us human.--I'm not religious. That incredible jolt was still throbbing inside me. He must have noticed something was wrong because he came over to me and whispered in my ear. “Are you OK?” He smelled like center field on a summer afternoon. But the worst thing about that closeness was my cock started to grow!

Then, strangely, his mother looked right at ME and gave him a glare and just walked away and over to the garage.

I sorta stayed paralyzed, but it wasn’t because of her look. I really didn't know why I was freezing up in front of him. This was stupid! I couldn’t speak, I was trembling slightly and--I can’t believe this--I was really starting to chub up! I had to get out of there like RIGHT NOW before I went completely stiff and he saw! I mumbled, “I’m not feeling well. I’m going home.” Then I actually pivoted and quickly ran home.

I went straight to my room and lay face down on the bed. What happened to me out there? Why did I get that feeling in my stomach when I saw the new boy? Why did I start to spring wood when he approached me? I couldn't be attracted to him. I certainly wasn't gay. I didn't even think I liked the guy.

Then, as usual for me, I started thinking of worst case scenarios. Could I be attracted to a BOY? My life as I knew it would be OVER! I’d have to give up my SPORTS. I’d have to give up my gang and start hanging out with EMO kids. My mother would probably throw me out. I KNOW she'd throw me out. She'd talk to that crazy pastor and he'd make me the topic of a sermon! I’d become a street kid. I’d read all about this stuff. I’m not dumb!!! I knew what happened. This time I almost DID puke.

Then I pulled myself back. Jesus, I was over-thinking again! It was just some weird thing I'd never run into before. ‘Let your subconscious work on this problem’ I told myself. I'm seriously into meditation and self reflection. That usually helped with my fears. So I just centered myself and began to relax and soon I was in a better place.

Okay, now I KNEW that I had to start working on this little problem. Crap, I was SMART! I hadda be able to come up with a solution--even just discover what the problem was.

Maybe there was something about that ONE guy! As I said, I didn't even think I liked him. Maybe it was just him ...HE was the problem. My solution would only need to be specific to him!! All I could come up with was that I could never get friendly with Twoey. I had to protect myself.

I knew how Gary would be. He'd introduce him to the whole gang and we'd be stuck with him, but I wouldn't be friendly. I couldn't be unfriendly. That would look strange to my friends cuz I'm not unfriendly with anyone. I just wouldn't be his buddy. I simply COULD NOT afford to make that mistake!!! It would ruin my life.

So at least I had the beginnings of a plan in place. I felt better already. I told you I was smart!

A few hours later Gary texted me to ask if I was OK. I texted right back and said I felt better and was sorry for bolting earlier but I was about to puke--must’ve been something I ate. Little white lie. Then, exactly as I had predicted, he told me what a cool kid ‘Twoey’ was and that the whole gang liked him and that he probably would be hanging out with us a lot. I told him that was fine with me and that I would apologize to ‘Twoey’ tomorrow. We agreed to run again. And ‘Twoey’ would probably join us because he was a big soccer guy. Well, all you did in soccer was run, so that made sense.

Tomorrow would be my first test at being not-friendly but also being not-unfriendly. It would also be the first day of school. As long as Soccer-Boy wasn't also on XCountry, I'd have lots of time to be AWAY from him--at least starting next week, when XCountry practice would actually begin.

Wish me luck!!

Twoey

When I first got a look at Blondie ...WHOAH! Holy shit! He was hot. Our eyes connected and I felt a tingle go through me, but the kid looked petrified. I think our eyes did some talking and Mom really noticed too. She knows I’m gay and …well, let me tell you my history (or his story ...however you parse it):

They call me Twoey because my best friend since we were little was also named Mike. We were born the same day in the same hospital! Mike's about 10 minutes older than me. We're brothers from different mothers. He's blond and I'm brunette, sorta. We were inseparable. Friends and relatives would always get both of us to answer if they just said 'Mike'. Finally, when we were in Kindergarten, they started calling us Mike1 and Mike2. I was Mike2. That just got abbreviated to 'Twoey' and so it stuck. That's all I'm known by, except for Mom of course; she always calls me Michael.

Now, I've read about kids who say they know they’re gay from six-years-old or something. Well, that may be true, but it just snuck up on me. In middle school I had the usual girlfriend-a-week that goes on there. One even gave me my first blowjob in her doorway when I walked her home. You know, all the normal middle school stuff. Then last year, when I was a freshman, my cock slowly told me that girls were having less and less an effect and some of the boys I saw were having a greater effect. I’m not naïve. I knew what this meant, even though I didn’t want it to be so. But by the time spring arrived there was no escape. I guess springtime has an impact on our hormones somehow.

That’s when I made two huge mistakes. I did a lot of online research about this stuff. I read somewhere that gay boys needed to “come out” to at least a few trusted people, or they would do themselves all kinds of psychological damage. Damn internet!! Who to tell? I could only really tell my best friend Mike and my parents, Who else could I trust? So one Friday, when Mike was over playing video games, I told him that I had something important to say to him. He looked at me curiously. I asked if he could please not tell anyone else. He said of course I could trust him with any secret. It took some time to build up the courage and he waited quietly. Finally I said, “Mike, I think I’m gay.” ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...There was a long pause, then he pushed the blond hair out of his eyes. “Good one, Twoey! You almost had me there!” He didn’t freaking believe me! He thought it was me pranking him again.

“No, Mike, it’s true. Not a prank.” But no matter how much I pleaded, he still didn’t believe me. It wasn’t until the tears started falling that he reassessed. “Jesus Twoey, you’re serious!” …<Big Pause>… “I don’t even know what to think!”

That was NOT what I wanted to hear.

“You hate me.”

"No, I could never hate you, but I’m going to have to go home and think about this--that's all.” Then he left.

Well, that didn’t exactly go well.

Next morning at breakfast I came out to my parents. That went less well. My father went ballistic. He said he’d get me in to see a good psychiatrist who could help me overcome my defect. Maybe prescribe me some medication. I couldn’t believe him. I got up and left the house. I took a long bike ride for like 12,000 miles or something, alone. I felt alone, completely alone. When I got home, Mom hugged me and said she loved me and it didn’t matter if I was gay or not. Months later, she admitted she had suspected I might be gay for quite a while. BTW she writes books on child psychology and always is one step ahead of me on anything that I’m thinking. It’s creepy! I can’t get away with anything. She said my father needed some time to come to grips with the facts. But he never did. Their arguments got longer and more frequent. I mean, you know, this is her field! He’s just a banker. Finally she gave him some kind of ultimatum, I think--and then they got a divorce. And it was all my fault!

What's worse, for the rest of the school year Mike nodded “Hey” to me in the halls but that was it. This was the kid I grew up with. My brother. The one that had been attached to my side virtually every day for 14 years!!! I became very, very depressed.

So when the divorce was final Mom asked if I wanted us to stay in the house in Syracuse where I grew up, or if we should move and start over in a smaller town. Because she writes, she can work from anywhere and makes decent money, I guess. Well, I was all for moving. There was nothing left for me in Syracuse. Maybe I’ll go back there when I go to college.

On the day before we left, there was a small envelope in our mailbox with “Twoey” written on it. Inside was a torn half of a dollar bill. When we were 7 years old, Mike and I tore that bill and he took one half and I took the other to always be the two halves of the same friendship. That single act of returning it crushed me worse than anything anybody could have said or done to me. He cut my heart out.

But now I'm in a small town on one of the Finger Lakes in central New York State. Hills, falls, lake, boating, swimming, what more could a guy ask? I just hope the school has a decent soccer team because I live and breathe soccer!

When the hot blond kid said he wasn’t feeling well and ran home, I stood there totally bewildered.

Gary was sort of torn between going after his friend and giving him some space. He waited a minute and then I guess decided his buddy needed space. “Let’s go around and pick up the neighborhood guys, they’ll wanna meet you.”

“Hang on a sec!” I ran over to Mom. “Gary's going to introduce me to his friends and we’ll probably hang around together for the afternoon.”

“Oh, I'm happy that you'll have new friends so fast, especially with school starting tomorrow. At least you'll know some kids there.” Then she hugged me and whispered in my ear, “And just what are you going to do about the blond boy?” Haha… can’t fool my Mom!

I told her I’d have to fix whatever problem we were having but I didn’t have a clue to what his problem was. But I knew I had to fix it. She gave me a knowing smile and a little kiss and said, “Be careful with him.”

We walked over to Peach St. and Nelson Heven’s house. He was called Nels and seemed to be a great kid. Nels was really tall and had almost white-blond hair in a kind of brushy cut. He was very, very fair-skinned and it was the end of summer! Everyone else I know was deeply tanned. I found out his older sister and Blondie’s older sister would be seniors this year and were best friends. Maybe later I could use that to figure things out about David. We just shot the shit and got to know one another. Nels played soccer when he was younger but didn’t join the JV team last year. Maybe I can talk him into trying out in the spring.

Next we went down two houses and met Sam Stozer. Sam was a surprise. He didn’t fit in with the ‘look’ of the guys so far. He was very thin and had straight brown hair worn almost Emo-style with it hanging over one eye. I found out soon enough that he didn't like to be clumped with the Emo culture. "The only time I cut myself is when I shave." I couldn’t be sure of the color of his eyes but they were very dark. He had on skinny jeans and lots of shiny studs stuck onto things, and a PIERCING--right in the side of his nostril! I’ll bet he’s got a tattoo somewhere too. Sam’s into bands and definitely not into sports. But he is smart and he is funny and had us cracking up every couple of minutes with comments he would just randomly drop into whatever conversation we were having. I think I’m gonna like Sam a lot, even though we sort of have nothing in common.

Finally, we went down a few more houses and picked up a kid named Danny McCane. As tall as Nels was, is as short as Danny is. Danny had tight wavy reddish hair and big brown eyes. The thing that grabbed me was he had a million freckles. He was really cute and looked way, way younger--but he was 15 too. Danny was into gymnastics and it sure showed on his body! Danny was almost as outgoing as Gary--almost. I don’t think I had ever met a kid as animated and talkative as Gary. Danny looked me right in the eyes and asked all kinds of questions. He really seemed interested in getting to know me! And did I tell you how cute his freckled face is? And something pinged.

OMG! I wondered if he was gay. Hehe ...I could always hope.

The guys each asked where David was and were genuinely concerned when Gary described his zoning out and then running home sick. These kids really liked David. I could feel it in everything they said, especially Danny. So I learned a little more about Blondie. Apparently he was a great friend but certain things really tick him off. He could even get a little violent! I guess two years ago he beat up some kid who started picking on Sam. I guess you don't screw with his friends! Other than that, everything I learned ...I liked. Also he was not afraid to stand up for himself, even to teachers! He gets straight A's too. So the teachers didn't seem to hold that against him. I guess he has a quirky personality to go with his hotness ...haha. Well, I can dream. But at least I want him as a friend. I’ve really gotta FIX this problem with him!!

After spending the afternoon together down by the lake--God, was it perfect down there--we walked back dropping off the “gang” at their various houses until we got to mine and it was just Gary and me. He said that he and all the gang really liked me and, if I wanted, I could certainly hang out with them.

“I'd really like to because you're all great guys, but aren’t you forgetting someone? How can I hang out with you if David doesn’t like me?”

“I’ve known David all my life and he is truly my best friend. I’m sure we'd take a bullet for each other, if it came to that. We're so in sync that we don't even have to say any words half the time; we just know what the other one thinks. And I know you're okay.”

“I hope you're right Gary, but I've got this feeling that your best friend, for whatever reason, really hates me!”

Gary smiled. “I don’t think so. Sometimes the strangest things set David off, but it's usually when he feels a threat to himself or his friends. You certainly aren't that. Tell you what: join us tomorrow morning for our run and I’ll bet by the time we’re finished everything will be okay between you two guys.”

“Jeez, Gary, I sure hope so! Wish me luck!”

But it was the talk about best friends that really got me depressed--all over again!

I simply can't seem to get over Mike!