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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. 

Someone Like Me - 1. Chapter One

Well here we go! Get into my first chapter and send your feedback to me once you're done Posted Image

Chapter One

The worst night of my life was over as soon as the wake up call echoed through the house.
"JORDAN! Get outta bed!"

There it is. The calling. The signal that the night has ended, and now there is a new beginning. The start of an absolutely terrifying day. Last night had been awful too. Tossing, turning, dozing in and out of sleep. Finally managing to succeed at past midnight until half-waking up before the calling. A very uncomfortable night, and for what?

Lying in dread and fear of today.

Today was the first day at my new school. Some people could understand my fear, but believe me, there's more to this than that. Firstly, I've moved from New York to Nebraska. My parents had big jobs in the city, but they wanted a more simpler life, where it wasn't so noisy and polluted. So hello to Nebraska it is.
Groggily, I slipped out of bed and went for my clothes. I'd picked them out last night, my favorite outfit. Which were one of the many subjects I was fretting over. Does my dark blue shirt and black jeans go well together? Does it look weird? But doesn't everything go with black?

You'd think I was preparing myself to meet the ROYALS or something. I was way too anxious. You'll be fine Jordan. So I took them and headed for the shower. I passed Mom on the way.
"You look like you've had a rough night." She commented.
I grunted in response. My brain was still in zombie state a little, and verbalizing was an effort not worth wasting. I got into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I took off my boxers and stepped into the warm water. Ah, that's better. I was in one of my happy zones now, other than my bedroom. I closed my eyes and let the water cascade down my naked form. It didn't stop the dread from returning, as I envisioned what would happen today. For the seventeen millionth time. It wasn't the hard work or the new environment that I would face, but it was the people that scared me.
Would it just be like my old school? Would they figure me out as soon as they paid the slightest bit of attention to me? Would I be the subject of ridicule, teasing and gossip? I didn't want to find out the hard way.

You see, truth be told, I'm gay. Nobody at my old school seemed to accept the concept of same sex love, which is why I endeavored to keep my homosexuality a secret. However, the secret slipped when I was playing a stupid game of 'Truth or Dare'. The person who played with me asked if I had a girlfriend when I opted for truth. I said no, cause you know, that's the truth right? But after opting for truth again, he asked if I was straight. To which I sheepishly replied "no". On any other circumstance, I would've lied and I would still have my secret undercover. But on this case, the person I was playing with was this really cute boy who happened to be one of my little crushes. I thought he might actually be gay, which is why he asked. That little spurt of confidence that I could actually be with him sent me down a highway of persecution for the rest of my time there. My friends I was close with instantly stopped treating me the same once they found out through the gossip circles. People gave me disgusted looks — even some teachers! I cried a lot after that, and my parents were seriously worried about me. But there was no way I was letting them in on the secret too. If my story was bad enough, then on top of that, my parents are very anti-gay.
"Humans were designed so that male and female go together." My father declared once. "The evidence of that can be seen just in our bodies, the male part goes into the female part as it were. Gays can't do that, they try to look for other holes. I guess that's why they're called bummers."
He had let out a horrible snicker after that, and all I could do was silently agree at the time.
I snapped out of my thoughts. Geez, Jordan. At this rate I'm gonna never make it to school. Think better thoughts! My mind envisioned the best that could happen. I could stay as straight as possible and no one would ever know. Or maybe being gay is accepted there and I can come out without being ridiculed for it. Maybe...just maybe...there is this really cute boy who is gay like me, and we could...
You know what? That's probably not gonna happen. It'll be a great first day, I'm gonna get good teachers and perhaps even some good friends. But to do that, I had to at least make an impression in my looks and smells.
I lathered scented shampoo into my hair, which apparently according to the label smelled like honey. Next, I rubbed some body wash on, which had a spicy scent. I scrubbed it everywhere on me, even...*ahem*...down there, so that I smelled completely good.
I closed my eyes again and a fantasy emerged in my mind, some hottie boy was here in the shower with me. Then the boy turned into my biggest crush at my last school. He was wrapping his naked body around me, his hands roving my back. He grasped my ass, slowly pushing me into him, before a hand ventured around my side...and then onto my cock.
In the next instant, the fantasy was crashed when the warmness ceased and cold, freezing water showered me without any warning!
I hissed from the sudden shock and pushed down hard on the shower lever. Geez! I hate limited gas heating! I snatched my towel and hugged it around me, trying to get the warmth back.
I stepped out of the shower, and looked at myself in the half-fogged mirror. Sandy blonde hair, eyes of blue, and a slim body, not too bad. But you know, how could I tell?

No one had ever called me 'cute' or 'beautiful' before. Not even by my parents.

Which was a problem for me because I had no idea if I was a mouth-watering hottie or the most ugliest thing known to man. Or maybe something in between that, which I'm going with so far.
And as for the size of my penis, I would also put an 'in-between' label on that too.
Okay, enough staring in the mirror, let's get on with it. I slipped into my clothes, threw my towel to the laundry basket, gave my hair a pedantically perfect brush and stepped out of the bathroom.
"You forgot about the limited gas again, didn't you?" Mom accused as I headed for my room.
She was at the dining room table, eating a bowl of muesli. Her eyes stared sharply at me, like razor-sharp knives.
"Um...yeah. I did." I murmured, walking past.
She didn't say anything after that, but I could still feel her eyes boring into me from behind.

Now my mother isn't a cruel or negative person. Really, she's very loving, and is there for me whenever I need her. But she has high expectations of me. Both Mom and Dad do. They want me to perfect and mature. They're aware that at my age, hormones can get out of control and I could be doing things that to them are...suspicious. Such as taking long showers as I did just before. They just don't like it. So there's a conflict. My hormones can't conform to their standards. It's the weightier force in my actions. What can I say? I'm a slave to my desires.

The next hour was spent having breakfast, doing some daily morning chores such as washing the dishes. And generally, just bracing myself for what's to come.
"I'll drop you to school." Mom said once I'd packed my bag to bursting point.

I rejoiced inside myself. No facing the frightening situation of the school bus, well not today anyway. No bullies that could pick me out even before school started.

I climbed into Mom's car outside as she followed me out the front door. The car itself was modest — a dark blue hatchback, easily unnoticed in comparison to other vehicles. But I liked it, I couldn't wait to learn to drive it.
Mom locked up the house before she climbed in and we set off in our way. My heart was pounding inside me, beating faster and more intensely with every wheel turn. Hold yourself together, Jordan.

"Victor said he will pick you up after school, just meet him at the back gates." She said to me as we drove down the quiet, neighborhood street.

Victor of course was the name of my Dad. He was working early at his new job in the middle of town today, which is why I missed him this morning.

I nodded, "Yes, Mom."

"And", She added. "Don't mix with the wrong crowd, make friends who can actually do you some good."

I knew why she was saying this. She didn't know the entire story of my dilemma back home in New York, but she knew as far as that my friends were treating me unjustly. She wanted to make sure that I would make friends who actually cared.

"Don't worry Mom." I replied, then added light-heartedly, "When have I ever been known to 'mix with the wrong crowd?'

"Since you were being bullied by your supposed 'friends' at your last school!" She snapped.

Mom has quick-fire responses too, did I mention that? It's not helping me at all with my nervousness. I have enough to deal with already on my own, let alone have Mother Isabel breathe down my neck about my social life. What a way to be motivated for my first day.

The car trip didn't take long, and we pulled up outside the school. Students were bustling everywhere, hundreds of them! My stomach fluttered and my heart was beating so fast, I'm sure Mom could've heard it!

"Have a good day." Mom said, before leaning over and planting me a kiss on the cheek!
AAAAARGH!!! That was NOT meant to happen. Unacceptable! Did anyone see me? Yes...a couple of girls walking past happened to notice just as Mom had gone and kissed me. Smirks covered their faces as they walked off. Great, just damn well brilliant.

"Bye, Mom." I said, doing little to hide my annoyance. I opened the door, grabbed my bag and got away as quickly as possible before she embarrassed me again. She drove off after a wave I tried my best to ignore. Now I could put my thoughts on the real thing.
I watched in awe as boys and girls of varying ages populated the school, chatting happily to each other in groups or on their phones, tapping out texts and checking out photos of the past holiday. I was paid little regard as I entered through the school gates, on my way to home room. This was my sophomore year at high school, and I was reasonably confident about the work that I'd get. It was the people that terrified me.

I had to make a good impression. I was constantly wondering what others saw when they saw me. A normal guy perhaps, or a boy with 'gay' so badly hidden that it would be more subtle for me to wear a t-shirt that declared: "I LIKE BOYS!" So far, it was okay. But I felt like I was gonna vomit from being terrified. I had no idea how anybody here treated homosexuals. One thought harangued my mind: They will bully me if they know. It will be just like my old school in New York.

Avoiding that completely would be by forcing my inclinations and sexual appetite deep, deep down inside me. No one would have to know. But as I looked around the halls, there were cute boys everywhere. Seriously, EVERYWHERE! I had passed several on entering the school. I brushed past a gorgeous-looking boy with soft brown hair not two minutes ago. They hung in groups or by themselves. Some mildly cute and others SUPER hot! I came to realize that there were more good-looking boys here than what there were back at home. And back home, I had crushes on 20 different boys, for even just the way their hair looked! True, I was hopelessly craved by my gay desires. It wouldn't take long for others to find out I was gay if my hormones rose, speaking from experience myself.

I'll give myself a week.

I found and stopped outside my homeroom just as the bell rang out through the school halls over top the cacophony and din of loud and talkative students. Others were already here, waiting for Mr Mourad to arrive. Mr Mourad was my homeroom teacher, as my timetable showed. Hopefully he'd be great.

As other boys and girls converged outside the classroom, I plucked up the courage to say hi to someone. Despite my major terror.

"Hey there..." I said, with a small smile.

The boy leaning against the wall whom I greeted looked up at me slowly. He looked quite emo, or goth even, and had black dyed hair draped like a curtain over the right side of his face. He scowled at me and rose his hand and single middle finger, before returning his attention to his cellphone.

Well that was rude.

I tried my best to ignore him and turned away. Great start so far. Not.

Just then, a man in a shirt and tie approached the classroom. He looked middle-aged, with brown hair and a friendly demeanor.

"Hey everyone, I'm Mr Mourad!" He greeted cheerfully, unlocking the door. "Sorry to keep you all out here, let's get in and on with it."

He seemed nice enough.

We all piled in. Now was one of the most awkward parts at school — where to sit. Not at the front because you'll look like a geek. Not at the back with the troublesomes. Veering to the either side too far would make you look like a loner, a daydreamer if you were by the window...it was about how both the teacher and the others judged me by where I sat. Oh God this is ridiculous...

Already, people were allocating themselves to seats I had mentally picked out. There — no, gone. How about that seat? Nah, gone too. There's one there...but not next to the emo-goth guy. Finally, I managed to find a half-reasonable seat near the front. Then without much notice, another figure took the desk right next to me. I looked to see a girl who looked sixteen, with bland, straight hair and wide-rim glasses.
"Hi." She smiled shyly. "I'm Monica."
"I'm Jordan." I politely returned.

Now I know I'm gay. I pay more attention to boys than girls. But I'm not so secluded from the straight life to realize that this girl was not pretty. A complete nerd even. It sounds harsh doesn't it? Judgmental. But I've only ever had to live up to the example of my parents to be like that. Anyway, this girl smiled wider, revealing braces on her teeth.

That's just making nerd a capital 'N', isn't it?

I reprimanded myself. Stop it Jordan! Stop thinking these horrible, judging thoughts!

Just then, Mr Mourad confronted the class. "Welcome to homeroom, I'm Mr Mourad. There's some organizational things we need to do first so I'll get on with it. Roll call first."

Monica started talking to me. "I'm so looking forward to this year, are you? I have some really cool teachers like Mr Drake in my geography class and Mr Oh in general science, but I also have him in my..."

Bla-de, bla-de, blah. Monica didn't seem to shut up. She rambled on for a bit, while I pretended to care and listen. As Mr Mourad was calling out our names, I scanned the classroom and prepared for the little game I played in my mind which was 'Who's the hottest?'. I had to look at every individual, male of course, and determine the hottest. At times there wasn't a winner, but sometimes you scored lucky. So I scanned my eyes around the room, roving, roving...there!

OMG, look at him! My heart lifted, sending a burst of joy though me. Across the room was a boy with light, curly blonde hair and a beautiful smile. He leaned against the window, laughing and joking with his friends. So it turns out you're not a loner if you sit by the window, huh? Or maybe it depends on who sits there.
I continued staring at him, enchanted by his beauty. Wow...just, wow. Then my heart jumped and I gasped as his eyes turned towards my direction, still holding that gorgeous smile...


I was suddenly snapped out of my stare at absolute beauty as Mr Mourad fixed a hard look straight at me. He didn't look too happy.
"Y-yes, sorry?" I stammered.

He kept a rigid stare at my face, as if trying to work me out. I could feel his eyes studying me closely, and even Monica's who had stopped talking altogether. Oh no...was I that obvious? Did they see me staring at that boy? He knows I'm gay, doesn't he?

My heart pounded as I timidly waited for him to say something. Put me out of my misery, accuse me of being gay...

Finally, he asked, "Well? Are you present?"

The rising panic filling my body like a balloon deflated faster than air. Thank God! Still, I heard a few snickers ripple through the room, especially over where that hottie was sitting. They must think I'm an idiot. I felt my cheeks flushing furiously.

"Yes, present!" I replied.

Another short stare and Mr Mourad returned to calling out names. "Lain!"
The most beautiful boy in the class shifted his gaze to the teacher. "Present!"

Ah, Lain. What you do to me.

He really was something though. Light, slim and pale skinned, the boy looked like the Arctic prince or something. And did you hear his voice. Omigod...it was like listening to a vocal harp. Music to my ears, all in one word. It's only been in a minute or two after first seeing him and I'm already infatuated.
Monica resumed her discussion with me, which I inwardly groaned at and painted a fresh smile on my face. But my eyes still wandered toward Lain at the other side. He's so mesmerizing...

But he had friends. About four of five of them here. I didn't have any, and I'm not counting Monica as a friend! I only just met her moments ago and already I'm sick of her. I hope I get friends. I mean, real ones who actually don't care whether I'm gay or straight. Not like at my old school, where my friends whom I thought I was close to distanced themselves from me like I was the Small Pox. My mother's words echoed in my head: "Don't mix with the wrong crowd, make friends who can actually do you some good."

Again, I peeked over at Lain. Maybe I will get some good friends. And if I'm lucky, maybe...maybe even a boyfriend.

The bell rang and Mr Mourad dismissed us. Next class: History. I wonder who'll be the hottest there!

If you're sweet, you would review ☺

Copyright © 2015 The_Jordanator; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 31
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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Guest lt. dangle


Very good wrighting for someone so very young,please continue with your storie . I think everyone that reads "someone like me " will enjoy.

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Nicely done start! You've got a good hero, and lots of options for direction to take the storyline. Plus, everyone remembers how tough high school is, whether you're the new kid or not! And, think his parents are going to be interesting characters, too ... there's more to them than meets the eye!

All in all, it's gonna be a good story--now where's that next chapter? <grin>

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Sounds interesting, I was surprised by the good writing considering your age and that it is your first story here. So far nothing really that I could complain about. Let's see what the next chapter will hold.

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Horrible father! I feel bad for Jordan that he doesn't at least have family support of the type that he needs to feel ok, but then a lot of LGBTQ youth do not.


I have to say, Wow, your comments about where to sit in homeroom took me right back to high school. It's so true, and your writing creeps towards the poetic as you describe the loners against the wall and the dreams against the window. (IF you're curious, lol, I always preferred the back row, next to the window ;0 I guess that made me a trouble-making dreamer.)


This is a good, solid start. I hope you continue on. Thanks for posting it!

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Incredible writing considering your age. :) Well done, and I'm looking forward to more. You've got a lot going for you here, and if you keep writing to the end I think your story is going to be quite impressive.


The best advice I can give you is to make sure you finish this story. I remember it being difficult to push myself to the end of my writing projects when i was fourteen, but as soon as I finished my first story that problem all but disappeared. Finish this story and finish strong, and you'll do great in the future!


Good luck.

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  • Site Moderator

What a perfect title for this story. It encapsulates Jordan's hopes and fears in just three words. Will someone like me? Will I find someone like me? Then you add good writing, a hero we can identify with, and an engaging plot. Now I can't wait to see what happens next. What more can you ask from a story? Good work. :)

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A good first chapter. :2thumbs:

Your writing is pretty great for someone whom it's the first story and for your age too :worship: . Even if I think that when you have a gift for something - here writing - the age doesn't really matter.

The characters interesting and I'm sure there's a lot more to the parents and this Monica girl.

Jordan's comments and concerns in the classroom took me right back to highschool. All those first days and first classes. Thinking how where you'll sit will surely influence the year to come, how I was watching everyone to try to know who seem to be nice or not, hot or not too lol, who would make great study buddies and planing on who to talk to first to start making friends. A lot of pression for a first day sure but I'm sure Jordan will manage to go through highschool.

And the title. With just a few words you manage to convey a lot about the story :thumbup: . About how -no matter the age - we all want to find someone like us, someone who will get us and understand us and even maybe love us.

You've got a good thing going here so keep going cause you're doing great :thumbup:

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The story captured my attention right from the beginning. Jordan is a very relatable character that will be loved by many readers. I know I'm certainly intrigued to see where this story goes from here. Please don't quit! You've got me hooked now there is nothing you are allowed to do but see it to the end.

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I agree with the resy, a very good start. It brought back so nany memories of being your age again. Not all of them pleasant. I didn't have a big secret, though. I was more Monica, the nerd... It's interesting how Jordan, in spite of being subjected to cruel behaviour, still can't help being somewhat cruel to Monica. It's only in his head, so it's not upsetting. On the contrary, those thoughts make him more human. No one is perfect.


I will read on!

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