The Soccer Field Is Empty © 2001 Mark A. Roeder
Introduction The Soccer Field Is Empty is one novel in a series of se...
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The Soccer Field Is Empty © 2001 Mark A. Roeder
Introduction The Soccer Field Is Empty is one novel in a series of several books about gay youth set in rural Indiana . Each novel can stand alone, but they are meant to be read in chronological order as the subsequent novels tend to built upon earlier storylines. The current novels in the series are: Outfield Menace, Snow Angel, The Soccer Field is Empty, Someone Is Watching, A Better Place, The Summer of My Discontent, Disastrous Dates & Dream Boys, Someone Is Killing The Gay Boys of Verona, The Vampire’s Heart, Keeper of Secrets, Do You Know That I Love You, Masked Destiny, Altered Realities, Dead Het Boys, This Time Around, Phantom World, Second Star to the Right, The Perfect Boy, and The Graymoor Mansion Bed and Breakfast. Many characters make appearances in more than one book and their lives are seen from many angles. The Soccer Field Is Empty is a revised edition of Ancient Prejudice Break To New Mutiny..., but it’s more than a simple revision. This edition is approaching twice the length of Ancient Prejudice, and now includes events from the point of view of Taylor, as well as Mark. The basic story is unchanged, but The Soccer Field Is Empty tells much more of the tale than Ancient Prejudice. There are dozens of new scenes and many old scenes have been expanded to provide a fuller
picture of the lives of these two young men. Those who have read Ancient Prejudice will want to read The Soccer Field Is Empty as well. There is so much new material here that it’s largely a new book, like a painting that’s been given a larger canvas on which to be displayed. Those who have read Ancient Prejudice will note a few minor differences. I’ve taken this opportunity to correct a few errors and give the story a more proper time-line. I’ve made corrections and additions that bring the tale closer to my original vision. I believe that those who are familiar with Mark Bailey and Taylor Potter will find them largely unchanged, though in this volume, I’ve delved more deeply into what makes them tick. I’ve also elaborated upon events that were only hinted at in the original novel. Ancient Prejudice was originally written solely from the point of view of Mark, in the form of his computer journal. The Soccer Field Is Empty combines the newly-discovered journal of Taylor with that of Mark, to give a more complete description of their relationship. Within the story, the two diaries were joined together after Taylor ’s journal was found in Graymoor Mansion , nearly twenty years after the events described in this chronicle. What you’re about to read is the combined story that was result of that joining—but I’ll let the events explain themselves as you read The Soccer Field Is Empty. —Mark A. Roeder 21 December 2001
Selby Farm Verona , Indiana November 16, 1998 Dear Jordan, My boyfriend, Sean, made a discovery that I’m sure will interest you. While searching his home for parts of a journal written by a previous occupant, he came across something quite unexpected - a journal written by Taylor ! It was hidden by Taylor in Graymoor Mansion here in Verona , but I’ll let the journal itself tell you about that. Sean actually found Taylor’s journal before you visited over a year ago, but Sean and I have been working real hard to put it together with Mark’s journal so that the enclosed book tells the complete story of what happened to them. We marked entries from separate journals as “Mark” and “Taylor”, so you can easily tell who has written each section. I’m sorry it took so long to get this to you, but it took FOREVER to put it together and we had to wait for weeks and weeks for it to be bound. We made a copy for Ethan too. He cried when we gave it to him. Say “hi” to Ralph, and Ross, and Kieran for me, and come visit us soon! Please! Love, Nick
Prologue:
The End, and The Beginning
Mark November 3, 1980 ... “In fair Verona , where we lay our scene. From ancient grudge, break to new mutiny. Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, a pair of star crossed lovers take their life. Whose misadventures piteous overthrows, doth with their death bury their parents’ strife...” That’s about as far as I’d been able to get on my English report—only a few short words copied directly from a tattered paperback. I crumpled the paper into a ball and sent it sailing toward the wastebasket. It dropped in with a satisfying thump. I wouldn’t need it any more. Like my life, it had become unwanted and without reason for existence. I’d struggled through Shakespeare, but I’d come to understand him only too well. Life was a tragedy. When first I read Romeo and Juliet—a task I undertook only under duress—I believed Shakespeare’s work bore little resemblance to modern life. Who really gave a damn about a four hundred year-old romance? And why didn’t Romeo just find some other babe to plow?
My eyes had opened since that day, however, and I’d grown. Shakespeare’s words began to make sense. After the events of past few weeks, he could well have been telling the story of my own miserable life. “In fair Verona , Indiana , where we lay our scene. From ancient prejudice, break to new mutiny...” The parallel was only too clear, but my story didn’t possess the romantic distance of a past age. The memory of what had so recently transpired was not yet dulled and blurred by time. Centuries didn’t separate me from those terrible events. The wounds weren’t healed, but were still fresh and painful. Salt was yet being heaped upon them, sharpening the pain, intensifying the torment. My recent past was like a sharp stick, jabbing me in the gut, impaling me while I squirmed to escape. There could be no escape for me, however; my fate was set. All was lost. There was just no other way to describe it: everything that I cared about was gone forever. My mind reeled with sorrow. How could it all have come to this? Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t those around me have just understood and let me—let us—be? I took out the floppy disk I kept hidden in my desk and slipped it into the Commodore disk drive, which whirred to life. It contained the daily journal I’d been
keeping of everything that had happened since I’d met Tay. Only this morning before school I’d added another section. I didn’t want to write the words I was about to type, but I felt an overpowering need to finish my story. I pulled the keyboard toward me and continued my tale. I’d leave an account of what had happened, so maybe some other boy would not meet my fate.
Act 1
The Beginning
Scene 1
The Boy of My Dreams
Mark September, 1980... I first laid eyes on Taylor at a Thursday night high school dance. Usually all the dances were on the weekends, but sometimes they were during the week. I guess my school was just weird. I had never seen him before; without a doubt, he was new. Our school wasn’t so big that he could have escaped my notice, and there was no way I could have forgotten him. Others maybe, but never him. I couldn’t take my eyes off Taylor. My gaze followed wherever he roamed. Usually I was far, far more cautious. One in my situation had to be, but for once I just stared. I couldn’t help it. I had no control whatsoever, neither over my eyes, nor my heart. I’d checked out guys before. I’d found myself looking at them with a distinct, almost painful yearning. Just before I’d spotted Taylor, I was gazing at a well-muscled youth wearing a tight tank top. The knotted muscles in his arms and shoulders fed a hunger that sometimes threatened to devour me. Yes, I’d checked out guys many times, but something stirred inside me, that had not stirred before. Here was the difference between hungering with the body and yearning with the soul. There was something about
Taylor, something that drew me to him. My eyes had often been drawn to attractive young men, but never my heart, until the moment I laid eyes on him. There was plenty to attract both my eyes and my heart. Taylor was, without doubt, the most beautiful boy I had ever beheld, but it was more than that—he radiated a kindness and cheerfulness that was so distinct, it was practically a visible phenomena. I felt myself drawn to him, as if by some irresistible force. I fell for him on the spot. With one look I was taken. What happened after was unimportant; from that first moment I was, and always would be, his. Somehow I knew in my heart it was true. A boyfriend was the last thing I expected to find at a dance. I usually shied away from dances. It wasn’t that I didn’t like to dance, any sort of physical activity attracted me. It was something quite different that kept me away. I was popular at school; athletic, goodlooking, just the sort of boy that drew girls to him without effort. That was the problem—the girls. What would have been to most boys my age an opportunity, an arousing, exciting possibility, was to me a predicament. I feared girls as a vampire does the mirror. They were an instrument that could expose me for what I was. I often thought of myself as a vampire. Like those mythical creatures of the night, I lived a secret life. I hid my true nature, protecting myself from those who could not, or would not, understand. I pretended to be just like my friends and classmates, but I was
something vastly different from the boy they saw before them each day. I cloaked myself in secrecy. There was a part of me that I dared not let others see. No one must ever know that I was not the same as they. I must admit that my secret added a touch of excitement to my life, a certain thrill that an ordinary boy could not possibly experience. I walked among those ordinary souls unnoticed, undetected. I derived a certain pleasure and sense of superiority knowing that those around me hadn’t a clue as to what I was. The girls that flirted with me, the boys that admired my prowess on the soccer field, not one of them suspected what was hidden behind the facade I created for them. My secret made me feel both powerful and vulnerable. I had no doubt I was special, even superior in a way, but I knew that danger lurked around every corner. Every friend could fast become an enemy. Every situation carried with it the potential for disaster. Being unlike all the rest carried with it a great price. I couldn’t take the slightest risk of exposure. Like the vampire, if I was discovered, I would be destroyed. There would be no stake driven into my heart, but my fate would be nearly as unpleasant. The very reason I shied away from dances was why I was there—the girls. I’d avoided having a girlfriend for as long as I could. Every other guy at school had one, or wanted one. Every boy that had a girl paraded her around like he was toting some trophy hard won from a dangerous and highly competitive contest. Those boys that wanted a girl and didn’t have one were even more
obvious. They practically drooled over every girl in their path. If they hadn’t looked so desperate, they would probably have had a girl long ago. They were too needy. Girls didn’t go for that. They were attracted to strength. They all wanted to date someone confident, bold, and brave. For all their talk of wanting someone sensitive and caring, they always went for the jocks. They acted like they wanted a sensitive guy, but the truth was those were the guys they wiped their shoes on. They weren’t interested in caring boys, and desperate boys even less; they wanted jocks. They wanted guys like me. If the truth were to be known, I was a sensitive guy, but that was one of the things I was wise enough to keep well-hidden. I was openly kind and considerate, but I took pains to never appear too caring—just like I didn’t let anyone know I kept a journal, or loved laying on my back and looking at the stars. It just wouldn’t do to have anyone know those things about me. Everyone had to think I was nothing but an ordinary jock, and everyone did. I didn’t want a girl. They did nothing for me. No matter how beautiful they were, I found them about as sexually stimulating as a stack of steaming dog shit. Not that I had anything against them. There was nothing wrong with girls. I didn’t think they were inferior or anything; they just weren’t guys. It was that simple. To me, being a guy was the ultimate experience. I didn’t look down on girls, but sometimes I pitied them for not being male.
I didn’t want a girl, but I needed one. I knew if I didn’t get one soon, all the guys would get suspicious. I was sixteen and it was high time I was dating. Already there had been questioning glances from my friends, wondering looks that silently asked what was wrong with me. I knew there was nothing wrong with me, but I knew as well that my buddies would not see it so. A guy who didn’t go nuts thinking about feeling a girl up wasn’t “natural” in my friends’ way of thinking. There was something wrong with a guy like that. He was some kind of freak, maybe even some kind of monster. I knew my friends were wrong, but I also knew no one could ever convince them of that. That’s why I could never let them know what I was. My facade wasn’t all that difficult to maintain. I was so unlike all the stupid homosexual stereotypes that few would even begin to guess what I was. The only things that could expose me were my yearning glances at other young males and my lack of a girlfriend. I hid my glances as well as I could, and I was at the dance to find a girl. Not having a girlfriend made me vulnerable to suspicion. That’s why I needed one, even though a girl was the last thing I wanted. I had to at least appear to want a girl, or be found out for what I was. I knew it was not wise to gaze upon Taylor as I was doing, but at such a distance it would be difficult for anyone to discern what had so captured my interest. I was wise enough not to draw close, but to admire him from afar. Besides, I couldn’t help but look at him. I
felt drawn to him as I’d never felt drawn to anyone. There was a danger, but what was life without risk? Others found Taylor just as attractive as I did. He was surrounded by half a dozen girls, all of them gazing at him with adoration in their eyes. Taylor had the look of one who was unaware of his own good looks and was embarrassed by the attention others gave his features. The way he shyly smiled and glanced at the floor spoke of both his modesty and a certain awkwardness at being admired. Such mannerisms made him all the more attractive. Taylor absentmindedly ran his fingers through his long, blond hair, vainly attempting to keep it back behind his ears. Even that made him more appealing. Taylor spoke little, but the girls around him hung on his every word. I found myself wishing I could hear his voice. I was so entranced by him that I was nearly unaware of my surroundings. Everything else seemed unimportant. A voice mere inches away startled me. “What?” I said, turning to see who it was. “That girl over there—she’s really lookin’ you over, man.” It was Brandon. I was so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn’t even noticed him approach. I hoped he hadn’t been there long. “Huh? Oh, which one?” “Laura. Haven’t you been watchin’ her?” he said curiously. “Oh, yeah. Sure I have,” I lied.
I looked across the gym floor. Laura was standing just a few feet in front of Taylor. I hadn’t even noticed her before, but I guessed Brandon thought I was watching her, when I was really checking out Taylor. I feared I was being a little too obvious if Brandon had noticed. No harm was done, however. If Brandon thought I was looking at her, so would everyone else. No one would suspect I was drooling over a boy. I never dreamed that Laura thought of me as a potential boyfriend. I guess that such a thing was so far from my mind that I just hadn’t considered it. I’d never seen it because I wasn’t looking for it. I wondered how long she’d thought of me like that. I looked directly at Laura. She turned quickly away, visibly embarrassed, as my eyes met hers. That was proof enough that she was looking me over with more than casual interest. I’d seen that look in the eyes of girls before. I knew what it meant. That look frightened me. I couldn’t keep my eyes or mind on Laura. Taylor drew my attention away from her. I couldn’t help but look at him. “Huh?” I asked when I became aware Brandon was speaking to me again. “Are you goin’ deaf or somethin’?” asked Brandon, raising his voice over the loud music blaring in the gym. “I said, ‘Why don’t you go over and ask her to dance?’” “I don’t know,” I protested, shaking my head.
“Mark, it’s not like you to be so backward. Are you afraid of girls or somethin’?” Shit, that struck too close to home. I was afraid of them, but not for the reason Brandon suspected. The vampire feared the mirror. My gaze drifted to Taylor yet again. In addition to the girls, a couple of guys were with him too. They looked at Taylor with the admiration that boys give other boys who are exceptionally good-looking, or athletic—sort of an envious, admiring look filled with a desire to look, or be, the same. I knew that look. I caught it in the eyes of my teammates and classmates often enough. Don’t get the idea that I’m conceited— nothing could be further from the truth. My looks were an accident of birth, my talent on the soccer field was part genetic, and part just plain, hard work. I was a better player than my teammates, but I put a lot more work into it than any of them. I was not conceited, but I was aware of my own efforts, and good fortune. Perhaps I possessed a touch of pride in my prowess and appearance, but nothing more. The boys near Taylor caused a touch of jealousy to rise in my chest, but I knew it was needless. Their interest in him wasn’t at all the same as mine. No, I had no need to be jealous. They weren’t looking for a boyfriend. Besides, I was getting way, way ahead of myself. I was interested in him, but the chances that he would feel the same about me were practically nil. I glanced to the left. Laura was looking at me again. She was definitely interested. If only Taylor would
look at me like that. Her interest frightened me, but wasn’t such interest what I needed? Wasn’t it the very reason I was there? Brandon standing at my side, prodding me to approach her, was a powerful reminder of what was expected of me. I was a soccer jock and I was expected to fuck, or at least date a girl and claim I fucked her. How much longer could I wait before the other boys figured out why I didn’t date? If I’d been really shy, or unattractive or something, maybe I could have gotten away with not having a girl, but guys like me were expected to have a girl on their arm. It wouldn’t take my buddies long to figure out why I didn’t date. I’d gotten away with not dating for sixteen years, but I knew my time was running out. Even as such thoughts flowed through my mind, my eyes were upon Taylor. I was completely taken by him. I knew it was foolish. I knew it would never come to anything. The girls surrounding him were a sign that he could never be what I wanted. I knew I had set my sights on the unobtainable, and that my failure to achieve it would crush me into dust. I couldn’t help being taken, however. I couldn’t help but bear the slightest hope that maybe—just maybe—he would feel the same as I. My heart hoped, while my mind warned me of the danger. I was a moth flying into the flame... a vampire stepping into daylight. I feared I was kidding myself. How could he possibly be like me? Hell, I knew I’d never even have the balls to approach him. It just wasn’t me. On the soccer field I was bold, fearless, sometimes reckless,
but this... this was something quite different. I had long ago cloaked the real me, hidden myself from the gaze of all others because I knew they would not understand. My teammates, my family, my friends, all of them perceived the me that I wanted them to see. To them I was the outgoing, popular, friendly, and muchenvied soccer stud. I knew that the real me was far more complicated. There were whole realms to me that few would have guessed. Even those closest to me had no idea of who I really was. That fact sometimes saddened me, but such secrecy was a necessary evil. I was bold elsewhere, and with other things, but approaching Taylor posed far too great a risk. There was a difference between courage and stupidity. One was not a coward for stepping out of the way of a speeding truck. Taylor was quite likely that very kind of danger. He was certain destruction bearing down upon me, ready to run me over if I didn’t have the sense to step out of the way. “Mark?” said Brandon, asking with but one word why I wasn’t acting on such an obvious opportunity. It was clear he could not comprehend why any boy wouldn’t make a play for an attractive girl who was checking him out. I’d almost forgotten again that Brandon was standing beside me. I was distracted and I knew why. “Maybe I’ll go over and talk to her later,” I said. I was making up excuses for both Brandon and myself. “Coward,” said Brandon smiling.
Brandon was a good friend, but his humor cut a little too close to the truth. He had to be wondering what was wrong with me. Laura wasn’t exactly hot, but she was very pretty. I was surprised some guy hadn’t snatched her up. I hoped one would so she’d stop gazing at me. “You’re hopeless!” he quipped, shaking his head. “Catch ya later, Mark.” Brandon slapped me on the back and walked across the dance floor, making for a cute little blonde he’d been eyeing while he prodded me to approach Laura. Hopeless. He had no idea. With Brandon gone, I scrutinized Taylor more thoroughly. I simply couldn’t keep my eyes off him. It wasn’t just that he was incredibly good-looking; there was something more. I’d seen plenty of great-looking guys, but none of them was like Taylor , not one of them had made me feel the way he did. Laura was still looking at me now and then, but as I gave her no encouragement, her interest waned somewhat. I was glad, and yet I wondered if I wasn’t making a mistake. I’d come to the dance to pick up a girl, but when it came down to it, I just couldn’t do it. It just wasn’t me. Laura looked pretty disappointed. I felt like a jerk for not at least going over and talking to her. I hated to make anyone feel bad like that, but what could I do? I didn’t want to encourage her when I wasn’t interested in her. Talking to her, building her hopes up, wouldn’t be an act of kindness. I sighed. No, it was better that I
show no interest. A little pain now would be better than more pain later. Taylor was another matter completely. He was exactly what I’d wanted all my life. In fact, I don’t think I’d ever wanted anything quite so badly. I looked at Taylor and it was as if nothing else mattered. Once I set my eyes upon him, I felt like I’d been waiting on him forever. I thought of going over to him to strike up a conversation. No, the danger just wasn’t worth it, especially considering that the boy who so took my breath away could never feel the same about me. On that path lay disappointment, pain, heartbreak, and things far worse. A deep sadness overcame me, like the loss of a near and dear friend. I was torturing myself with possibilities that had little chance of seeing the light of day.
Taylor I loved the dance, even though I wasn’t dancing. The crowded gym, the flashing lights, and most of all the loud music filled me with excitement and anticipation. On a night like this, anything could happen. I knew not a single soul there, except for Kim, my new next door neighbor. She had invited me, and I was glad. I was already making friends. I’d always had a knack for that. I’d always made new friends easily, with both boys and girls. Maybe it was because I thought of everyone as a friend. To me, a stranger was merely a friend I hadn’t met yet. I was talking to several girls near me, and a couple of guys. I didn’t really say all that much, but the girls in particular seemed keen on hearing about my old school in Ohio. I missed it, but I already felt at home in Verona, even though I’d only lived there for two days and had yet to start school. I looked around at the gym. It was practically new. It wasn’t at all like the gym in my old school—that one was ancient. This one even had a pool, and the faint scent of chlorine was in the air. I found it oddly enjoyable. On the walls were some championship banners. The ones that had immediately caught my eye were for soccer. I loved soccer; I lived and breathed it. The one
thing I truly hated about leaving Ohio was having to leave my team in the very beginning of the season. I was a center forward and it wasn’t an easy spot to get. I knew I wouldn’t even have a shot at it in Verona, coming after the season had already started. I just hoped I could get a spot on the team. Even if I ended up spending most of my time on the bench, I had to be on the team. I’d just die if I couldn’t play soccer! I glanced at a huge photo on the wall behind me. It was of the soccer team of 1979-80, just the year before. There was a big trophy sitting on the ground between the boys in front. The photo didn’t say what the trophy was for and I couldn’t make out the writing on the trophy itself in the picture. No doubt the school had a good team if they’d won some kind of championship. The girls kept talking to me. I was kind of shy by nature, but I always enjoyed the company of others. The girls really seemed to like me. It was the same way in Ohio. Sometimes it could be a pain. I’d even had a few girls ask me out; that was an awkward situation that left the girl feeling rejected and me embarrassed. I hoped it wouldn’t happen here. I didn’t see any reason that it should. There were loads of guys around. Was it just my imagination, or were the boys in Indiana better looking than the ones in Ohio? I looked across the gym and saw an extremely goodlooking boy with dark hair and eyes gazing at me. I didn’t know how long he’d been looking at me, but he was so very handsome. I loved guys with dark hair. Our eyes locked for a moment and I felt something I’d
never felt before. I couldn’t even put it into words, but there was some sort of connection there. There was something between us, even though we’d never met. The boy even looked familiar—but how could he? I didn’t know anybody in Verona. The answer dawned on me. I turned and looked at the photo on the wall again. Yes—it was him. The boy across the gym was in the front row of the photo, right next to the trophy. So he was not only handsome, he was a soccer player too. Cool! I looked back at him and our eyes met once more. He looked away, but he was soon looking at me again. I felt drawn to him, as if we were supposed to meet. I felt as if my whole reason for being at the dance, even my reason for moving to Indiana, was just so that I could meet him. The feeling was so overpowering that I knew that the moment our eyes locked marked a pivotal point in my life. From that moment, nothing would ever be the same again. I grew more excited than ever as I wondered what might lie ahead.
Mark I started to turn away, but something called me back, like a voice in my mind guiding me. Taylor’s eyes met mine and something flashed between us. I can’t describe it, but I felt as if, somehow, he knew my very thoughts. It was if he knew me better than I knew myself. We just looked at each other across the gym while my heart pounded in my chest. Taylor disentangled himself from his harem and casually drew closer, seeking the same cloak of secrecy that I used to protect myself. He was far from obvious in his approach. In fact, I wasn’t even sure that he was really coming to me. If he was interested in me, as I was in him, he had to be very careful. We were, after all, surrounded by dozens upon dozens of classmates who would certainly not understand. One just does not make one’s interest in another boy public, at least not in the homophobic world of Verona, Indiana. Taylor couldn’t even be sure that I was interested in him, unless he really could read my mind. Or was my interest in him that obvious? I hoped not. Such a display was fraught with danger. Taylor moved closer, with the grace of a wolf, sleek, powerful, and silent. He nearly took my breath away. I was terrified that Laura would see him approach me. I’d already seen Laura look over her shoulder a couple of times, trying to figure out just who or what it
was that had so captured my interest. Was I getting paranoid or what? To my relief, Laura wasn’t even paying attention to me anymore. She was dancing. Jordan, one of the boys on my soccer team, had coaxed her out on the dance floor. I was relieved, and happy to see that someone had taken an interest in her. I felt guilty letting her just stand there when she was so obviously interested in me. That guilt disappeared once she was on the arm of another boy. I didn’t look directly at Taylor, but I knew exactly where he was at every moment. My heart pounded ever faster in my chest as he drew closer, and I felt my hands sweat. Even as Taylor neared, I had my doubts. Just because he was coming over to me didn’t mean he was looking for a boyfriend. What was I thinking? I closed my eyes, thinking about how stupid I’d been. In an instant I’d altered the likelihood of a relationship with Taylor from an impossibility into a probability. I was setting myself up for a serious fall, and perhaps a dangerous one. If I’d had any sense, I would have ran. Suddenly, I froze. He was at my side. His smile drove all thoughts from my mind. His eyes seemed to peer into my very soul. “I’m Taylor.” His very voice made me weak in the knees. His smile took my breath away. “Mark,” I said. I wanted to say something witty, but everything I could think of was just stupid, so I didn’t say anything more. I just smiled, silently communicating what I couldn’t say with words. I
prayed that he wouldn’t leave my side before I thought of something to say. “You’re, uh... new here, right?” I finally asked. Could I be any dumber? I asked myself. Taylor probably thought I was a complete moron. “Yeah. We just moved from Ohio.” “Oh.” More silence. We watched the others dancing on the gym floor, a mingling mass of boys and girls pairing up. They had no idea how lucky they were to be open about what they wanted. I envied them that freedom. “Nice dance,” said Taylor. “Yeah, but I’m not that much on dancing.” It was a lie, but as close to the truth as I could come. “Me neither,” he smiled again. He was always smiling. Taylor was gorgeous. His face was so handsome, it was beautiful. His arched eyebrows, finely drawn features, and sparkling greenish-blue eyes captivated me. Taylor ’s hair was light blond and so long it flowed down over his shoulders. He was slim, compact, firm, and no less than a dream. My heart raced standing so near him. His appearance, his voice, even his cologne intoxicated me. I felt myself drawn to him, more than that, I felt my soul drawn to him. I actually leaned toward him a little, my eyes on his lips. It was like one of those scenes in movies where a couple leans in toward each other just before they kiss.
As soon as I realized what I was doing, I averted my gaze and quickly drew back. As beautiful as I found Taylor, that beauty was the least of what attracted me. I felt as if he was the one I’d been waiting on forever. That feeling kept coming back to me, over and over: what if we were soul-mates? How would I know? Was it even possible? We kept watching the dance. We talked, about nothing in particular. Our conversation was halting, awkward. I had trouble concentrating on his words, and mine, but what we said didn’t matter, so long as I could hear his voice. Little by little, the words came easier. Anyone near would have suspected nothing. We looked like all the other guys at the dance, but I knew I was in love. My body knew it too; my breath came fast, my heart raced, and other parts of my anatomy were beginning to stir. The gym felt like it was about fifty degrees hotter than normal. Don’t get me wrong; it wasn’t just about sex, not at all. Sure, I was sixteen, and had needs and desires, but it was my heart that responded to Taylor the most. I desired his body, but I desired his friendship and his love far more. I think I could have been happy forever if only I could have heard him tell me that he loved me, just once. Taylor was what I had so desperately longed for, as far back as I could recall. Once more, I felt like I’d been waiting for him my entire life. My thoughts were racing along a dozen lines at once. I knew my mind, but was Taylor on the same track? He was friendly to be sure, but that didn’t necessarily lead
to what I had in mind. I wanted—no, needed—a boyfriend, someone to love, but could he be searching for the same? Was it even possible? Wasn’t that just a little much to hope, a little too good to be true? If anything, he was probably searching for a friend, and nothing more. If so, why did he pick me out? Why did he come to me all the way across the gym floor? My mind was reeling with a thousand thoughts, a thousand questions. I felt like there wasn’t room for me inside my own head. How could I be even remotely sure that Taylor was thinking along the same lines as me? More likely than not, our thoughts were far, far apart. What was running through my mind would no doubt disgust him, repel him. I knew that what seemed so beautiful to me could be utterly repulsive to others. From where I stood, love was love, but I knew that the cruel world did not see it so. Most of those around me wouldn’t understand. What they didn’t understand, they feared; what they feared, they sought to destroy. I was in danger. Taylor ’s friendship alone was worth pursuing, but I needed more. The risk was staggering, however, all the more so because it could bring to an end a friendship before it even had a chance to begin. I was sure we could be great friends. How could I risk such a valuable thing for something so uncertain, for a chance so slim? The danger was almost too great to even dare to think of taking the risk. I was so nervous I was practically shaking. My stomach was tying itself in knots. The thoughts running through my mind
tormented me with wondrous possibilities and terrible consequences. Taylor seemed to be looking at me with more than casual interest. There was something about the way his eyes drifted over my body now and then. Even more, there was something about the way he gazed into my eyes, as if searching, searching. I was looking at him in the same way. It was as if both of us knew what we wanted, but neither of us could bring himself to take that first step. Taylor seemed interested in me in a way no other boy had been before. Still, I couldn’t be at all sure. I wanted, needed, someone to love so bad, I feared I might only be seeing what I wanted instead of what was really there. I wanted to make contact, to discover the depths of this beautiful boy’s interest, but the danger was beyond measure. What if I was wrong? What then? The stakes were too high. Taylor could be all that I had dreamed, or he could turn and destroy me. I was lonely, but my life wasn’t so bad. I had friends. I had admirers. I had soccer. I was young, and strong, and popular. I had my entire life in front of me. How did I dare risk all that on such a long shot? I couldn’t trust my own perceptions, and I certainly wasn’t thinking straight. Taylor’s beautiful features and lithe, young form were distracting to the point of madness. I was in such dire need for him to be what I wanted that I couldn’t trust my senses. I was lonely, lonely in a crowd, and I desperately needed him to be
the one. It was all too much. A terror fell upon me that frightened me to my very soul. I felt sick. I panicked. “I’ve... I’ve gotta go,” I stammered. I didn’t even wait for a response. I actually turned and bolted from the gym. I could feel Taylor’s eyes on me. I’m sure he wondered what the hell was going on. I wondered the same, I’d never run from anything like that before. I felt like a coward, and still, I ran. I tore out of the gym, through the parking lot, and across the soccer fields. It was night, but the bright light of the moon almost made it seem like day. I kept running, beyond the practice field I knew so well, straight on into the woods. I ran along the paths used by lovers at night, and the cross-country team during the day. I ran past the trees. I ran until my breath came in gasps and my heart threatened to explode in my chest and still, I ran on. I ran from my fears. I ran until I couldn’t run any more. I collapsed upon a small hill in the middle of a clearing. I lay on my back panting, drawing great mouthfuls of oxygen into my lungs. As my heart and breath gradually slowed, I stared up at the stars, so big and bright I felt like I could almost reach out and touch them. That was me: always reaching for the stars, always reaching for dreams that couldn’t come true. A single tear rolled down my cheek, a tear of loneliness and isolation. Having what I wanted most in all the world dangled in front of me increased a hundred-fold the pain that was always with me. Taylor was my dream come true, or at least he
seemed to be. But how could I be sure? How could I take such a chance? At my school, anyone suspected of being gay was treated mercilessly. I remembered only too well a boy named Ronnie from my freshman year. Ronnie was a really nice boy, but he was delicate, thin and pale, and his voice had a really high pitch. He was cute, but kind of looked like a girl. Some of the guys slapped a ‘queer’ label on him and made his life a living hell. He couldn’t go anywhere without someone calling him names like “prissy” and “cocksucker,” right to his face. Well, not all the guys. I never did. I’d never treat anyone like that. I never knew if Ronnie was even gay. True, he had a high voice and looked kind of feminine, but I knew better than anyone how stupid all the stereotypes were. Hell, I was gay and I was nothing like that. The way he talked and the way he looked had no more to do with whether or not he was gay than what he liked on his pizza. I guess it didn’t matter if he was really gay or not. All the guys just assumed he was and treated him like a piece of shit. I couldn’t believe that anyone would treat another human being like that. Somehow Ronnie toughed it out and finished the school year. I hadn’t seen him since then. I guess his family moved or something. I didn’t blame him for not coming back. I wanted to be with Taylor more than anything, but what would happen if something went wrong? What if he wasn’t interested in me? What if he just called me a
fag and told everyone what I’d said to him? I’d be just like Ronnie. I couldn’t face that. Our whole community was down on homosexuals. The year before, at the same time everyone was ragging on Ronnie, my social studies teacher put up this poster that had pictures of Alexander The Great, Julius Caesar, Michelangelo, Shakespeare, Errol Flynn, Walt Whitman, and other famous figures, even contemporary artists like Elton John. At the bottom was a message that read, “Sexual orientation does not determine a person’s ability to make a mark, let alone make history.” I always liked that poster. It made me feel good about myself. I had a pretty good self image anyway, but knowing that guys like Michelangelo were gay made me feel like I was in pretty good company. I was no art buff, and his paintings weren’t my kind of thing, but that dude kicked ass when he painted! A lot of famous people were gay; most people just didn’t know about it. Anyway, this local bitch named Mrs. Campbell started throwing a fit about that poster when her son Ryan, who was in my class, told her about it. She raised a big stink to get it removed. She even had the gall to say that her problem with the poster had nothing to do with homosexuals; she just didn’t think it had any ‘educational value.’ Bullshit! If that poster hadn’t have been about gays, she wouldn’t have given a damn. There was a poster right next to it with a little cute little puppy on it that said, “Have a nice day.” Where was the
educational value of that? Why didn’t old Mrs. Campbell get all shitty about that poster? I slipped into the school board meeting just to see what everyone said about it. A bunch of people were all upset about it. More than one called it “immoral.” One even said, “God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.” Hearing that made me sick. It was unbelievable how nasty most of the people there were about it. Mr. Hahn, my social studies teacher, tried to defend what he was doing, but those bastards just ignored him. It was clear they’d showed up with their minds already made up about the whole thing. Mrs. Campbell, forgetting her earlier comment, complained that the poster “promoted the homosexual lifestyle.” Now how in the hell did it do that? Everyone seemed to think that being gay was like some kind of club that you could join. They acted like gays were out trying to recruit new members or something. What a crock of shit! I knew better than any of them that sexual orientation was no more a matter of choice than eye color, or height. I guess they all thought the poster was saying that if you wanted to paint like Michelangelo, you had to turn gay! The local newspaper did a story on the whole thing, which I have to admit was pretty objective. Whoever wrote that article was about the only one that was objective, however. Even some big national society got involved and denounced the poster. A civil liberties group stepped in on Mr. Hahn’s side. What a big deal over a poster.
I think what struck me the most was the local preachers and church people that spoke out against the poster, and against homosexuality. Mind you, not all of them did. I don’t want to stereotype church people as a bad lot, because some of them are really good, but those that were down on gays made me sick. I couldn’t believe some of the stuff they said. They made it sound like all gays were just perverts and child molesters. One of them actually referred to homosexuals as “the sons of Satan.” The worst was when one of the local preachers did a sermon titled “God hates gays”—he even put it outside the church on a sign! I simply couldn’t believe it. They acted like homosexuals were some kind of freaks. All that really pissed me off. I was gay and I was none of the things they were saying. I wondered about the rules people who attend church were supposed to follow. What happened to doing unto others as you would have them do unto you? What happened to judge not that ye be not judged? What happened to love thy neighbor and all that? As far as I was concerned, those who said such awful things about homosexuals weren’t real Christians at all. In my eyes, they had abandoned their mission and betrayed the very ideas they spouted so readily. They were no less than hypocrites, using religion for their own personal agenda. Personally, if I was them, I wouldn’t have been eager to explain my actions to God. In the end, Mr. Hahn just took all of his posters down. I know he felt kind of bad about it, but everyone
was ragging on him about it all the time. There was such a fuss he couldn’t even teach. His students were what was important to him, so he took the posters down so he could get back to teaching. I guess taking all of them down was his way of protesting. At least he hadn't lost his job over it. My mind was really wandering, as it raced from one thing to another. But that whole incident, and the way all the guys treated Ronnie, really got to me. Those incidents taught me one lesson well: Verona, Indiana was no place for homosexuals. Everyone I knew acted like all gays should be driven into the center of town and stoned. With all that to fear, how could I possibly take a chance on Taylor? If he wasn’t the boy I thought he was, and narked me out, I was finished. I’d be just like Ronnie, only worse. Everyone wouldn’t just guess I was gay—they’d know for sure! I wasn’t in the least ashamed of what I was. I saw no reason at all to be ashamed. But that wouldn’t stop my classmates from making my life a living hell. I couldn’t stand up to everyone! I knew how illogical it was to even consider opening up to Taylor, but my heart, and my soul, cried out for him. What if he really was the one I’d been waiting on all my life? What if he felt the same way about me as I felt about him? How could I pass up what might be my only shot at true happiness... true love? Despite my only having seen him for a grand total of fifteen minutes, I loved him. There was no doubt about
it. I know it might sound silly to love someone I’d just met, but I loved him with all my heart. I didn’t feel like we were strangers at all. I felt as if I’d known him for lifetimes. I wondered what Taylor had thought when I ran out of the gym. He probably thought I was some kind of freak. I wondered where he was now. Was he dancing with some girl, or was he just standing there watching, wondering where I was? As I watched the stars overhead, I wondered if Taylor could see them, too. My heart ached for him. I closed my eyes. My heart was still pounding in my chest from the miles I’d run. I felt like I’d been thinking and watching the stars for hours, but it had been just a few minutes. My breath still came in gasps and I was actually shaking. My stomach felt tight, and ached. I was so confused and tormented, I was on the verge of breaking into tears. The possibilities that arose with Taylor highlighted the inadequacies of my life. I had much, but I lacked even more. The loneliness, the utter isolation, the enveloping sadness—all this and more was brought to the surface to torment me for being different. How many times had I looked into the eyes of another boy, hoping to find someone like me, someone who could end my isolation? How many times had I been disappointed? How many times had I realized that my hopes were futile, yet again? I didn’t even have the solace of a friend to help me through my troubles. Sure, I had friends, but not one
that I could really open up to, not one that I felt would really understand. I didn’t dare speak my mind with any of them. No one would have understood, no one could. Such was the life of a vampire. I was alone with my pain, utterly, irrevocably alone. I was miserable. I opened my eyes. The stars were still there. It was good to know that there was something steady in my life, something to hold onto. No matter what happened down here, the stars would always be there. I arose and walked back the way I had come, my mind filled with possibilities and dangers. It didn’t seem to matter how long I thought, I never got any closer to an answer.
Taylor I stared in disbelief as Mark tore from the gym, as he ran from me. Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched him go. I had thought there was something between us. I thought we were becoming friends, and maybe even something more. When I’d looked into his eyes, I just knew he was special. I felt as if I already knew him, as if we’d already been friends and lovers forever. Then he ran from me. Was I wrong? Was what was between Mark and I nothing but a dream? A single tear rolled down my cheek as the thought occurred to me, but my heart told me I wasn’t wrong. I chose to believe my heart, for now that I’d laid eyes upon him, I could think of nothing but Mark. I felt like leaving the dance, but what if Mark returned? I wanted to be there in case he came back. Part of me was afraid I’d never see him again. That was just foolish, however. This was obviously his school; his picture was on the wall, after all. I’d see him again. I just didn’t know what would happen when I did. “Hey! You okay?” I looked up. There was a very handsome boy gazing at me with a concerned look on his face. I realized I must’ve been quite a sight with my eyes filled with tears.
I quickly wiped my face and looked down, embarrassed. “Yeah, thanks. I’m okay.” “I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” he said. “No, I just moved here. I’m starting school on Monday.” “Cool. My name’s Ethan.” “Taylor.” If my heart hadn’t been taken by Mark, I think I would’ve fallen for the boy in front of me. He was extremely good-looking, with black hair and dark eyes. But what I noticed most about him was his body. He was wearing jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, but even through his clothes it was obvious that he was powerfully built. I don’t think I’d ever seen a boy so muscular before. Ethan was... gorgeous. My heart belonged to Mark, however. Even though we’d spoken only a few words, I knew he was the one for me. My attraction to Ethan was just that—an attraction, a physical desire brought on by his beautiful, muscular build. Mark was the one I really wanted. Knowing that made me smile. “You have a good soccer team here?” I asked, for lack of anything else to say. “Oh yeah, the best!” said Ethan. “Our soccer team kicks ass. I don’t play soccer myself though—I’m a wrestler.” I nodded. “You look like you’d be good at wrestling.”
“Thanks. You wrestle?” “Me?” I asked, incredulously. “No way! I’m not strong enough for that. I’m a soccer player... or was one, back in Ohio. I hope to play again, if I can get on the team.” “That can be tough here, but you never know,” said Ethan. We talked a little more while I waited for Mark to return. Ethan seemed like a really nice guy. He helped put me at ease about starting in at a new school. He also helped to take my mind off Mark. Even though my heart told me that we were meant to be together, I was still concerned. I didn’t understand why Mark had run away from me like that, just when we seemed to be getting on so well. Several minutes passed and Mark didn’t return. Ethan went back to dancing and I quietly left the gym. It was night, but the moon was bright and cast everything in a bluish glow. The loud music of the dance receded behind me as I walked across the parking lot. In the distance, I could see level fields up ahead and walked toward them. Soon, I could make out the shape of a soccer goal. I walked out onto the field and smiled to myself. The smell of the newly-mowed grass was comforting. I felt at home here. I leaned up against a goal and watched the stars overhead, wondering if Mark could see them, too.
Scene 2
A Brave New World
Mark I didn’t see Taylor the next day at school, and you can be sure I was looking for him. His first day was to be the following Monday, but I didn’t know it then and kept watching for him everywhere I went. I hadn’t been able to get him out of my mind for a moment since the night before. I even dreamed about him, even though I couldn’t remember what the dream was about. I could almost remember; it was right there before me, but I couldn’t quite grasp it. I was distracted all day. I was halfway through algebra class before I realized I was writing the name “Taylor” over and over in my notebook. I closed the cover quickly, thankful no one had noticed. I had to be careful; I couldn’t afford to slip up like that. I was glad when time for soccer practice came around. I could lose myself in strenuous physical activity and clear my mind of the debate that was constantly raging within. I hadn’t stopped thinking for a moment about Taylor, or if I should take the chance and tell him how I felt. Coach McFadden had us running around the soccer field until we were ready to drop. The throbbing pain in my legs and chest helped me to clear my thoughts. I concentrated on the drills and worked hard on my passing and ball-handling skills. I always took soccer seriously, but that day I worked extra hard at focusing
on the task at hand. Thinking about Taylor made me happy, and yet it terrified me and made me sad, even depressed. I didn’t know how to deal with all the emotions that were roiling within me, so I fought to ignore them. Soccer practice allowed me to do that, at least for awhile. As soon as practice ended, Taylor was right back in my mind. Actually, he’d never really left it. It was just that I’d been able to put my debate aside. I could always see him in my mind. I could tell I had it bad for Taylor. I didn’t even pay any attention to the guys that surrounded me in the locker room, or the showers. My eyes usually wandered when I was around all those naked and semi-naked guys. That was one of the cool things about being gay; any of my straight friends would’ve killed to have been able to look around in the girl’s locker room and showers like that! But as far as I was concerned, those guys weren’t even there. Nothing mattered except Taylor. *** Saturday afternoon we had a soccer game on our home field. Our team had been a little weak since Brad, our other center forward, had left. Devon, who temporarily filled the vacancy, just couldn’t cut it and I was pretty much left to handle center forward by myself. Even so, we were still undefeated.
I scored a goal less than five minutes into the first quarter. Our opponents were lousy at defense. It was almost like they weren’t even there. I nearly felt sorry for them as I dodged and parried, cutting through them with such ease it made them look foolish. By the end of the first half we were beating them by 8-0. It was pretty sad. During the second half, I started taking more chances with the ball. I made passes I wouldn’t have in a close game. I passed the ball to guys that normally didn’t take a shot. Some of them even scored. Coach didn’t like it much, but the rest of us had fun. I knew coach was kind of pissed at me for not playing harder, but why run up the score? Why not give some of the other guys on the team a chance? I think I had a much greater grasp of the concepts of ‘sportsmanship’ and ‘teamwork’ than the coach did. If it was up to him, he’d have ran up the score as much as possible. I knew he was pissed during the game, but I also knew he’d forget all about it as soon as we won. I glanced up into the stands just as I passed the ball. I froze for a moment. Taylor was there and he was watching me. I actually forgot I was in a soccer game for a few seconds. That had never happened to me before. I just stood there and looked at him. He saw me gawking at him and smiled. My heart melted. “Mark! Get in the game!” yelled coach. I came to my senses. The ball was half way down the field. I raced to catch up, even though Devon was cutting right through our opponents defense. He scored
before I got there. Devon was elated and I was happy for him, since he didn’t get to score all that often. For the rest of the game I was distracted. I kept checking to see if Taylor was watching me. Whenever I looked up, his eyes were upon me. I felt that he wasn’t just there to watch the game, he was there to watch me. It made me feel all happy and warm inside. Then I wondered if he was really there on account of me. Might I not being seeing it that way because that’s how I wanted it to be? I just didn’t know. At last, the whistle blew three times and the game was over. We won 14-0. Taylor was cheering at the top of his lungs. I ran off the field with my teammates. I showered and dressed at top speed, but by the time I came back out, Taylor was gone. *** I was antsy the rest of the weekend. I tried to keep myself busy, but my mind was always drifting back to Taylor. What was I going to do about him? I knew what I wanted to do, but I also knew what I should do. Unfortunately, those two things were exact opposites. I wanted desperately to tell Taylor how I felt, but I knew deep down I should just forget about him. That was a laugh—I hadn’t been able to get him out of my mind for a moment since we’d met. I felt all nervous and I couldn’t eat or sleep. Forget about him? That was impossible!
On Sunday afternoon Brandon called me up and asked me to go to Koontz Lake with him. The lake wasn’t far out of town and was a regular hang-out for everybody at school. I needed something to do, so I accepted. It was likely to be one of the last good days for going to the lake anyway. Soon it’d be too cold. The sun was nice and warm when we arrived and I pulled off my shirt and tossed it in the car. Brandon did the same. Brandon had a really nice build. He was extremely attractive. It was odd, but I wasn’t sexually attracted to him. We were pretty good friends, kind of like brothers in a way. I’d always thought of him like that and hadn’t fantasized about him like I had so many of the other guys. Well, maybe I had a few thoughts along those lines, but not many. The beach was filled with high school kids, including a lot of guys from my team. I knew just about everyone there. It was like one big party with loud music and everyone swimming or tanning, or throwing around a Frisbee. I swam for awhile, then lay on my back sunning on the beach. The warm sun felt good on my naked skin. I’d spent a lot of time in the sun all summer and was tanned a nice golden brown. I just lay there with my eyes closed for a long time, enjoying the warm rays of the sun, the voices of my friends, and the music. Suddenly, my eyes popped open. I recognized his voice. It was him! I sat up and turned. There was Taylor talking to some of the guys. He was wearing bright blue swim trunks and nothing else. He was
gorgeous! His voice was musical, so happy and full of life. He was smiling. That’s one thing I loved about Taylor; he was always smiling. He looked in my direction and our eyes locked. I looked away, instantly overcome by a wave of panic. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like an idiot for being so afraid. I was acting like a giddy pre-pubescent girl, and that was something I wasn’t! Gathering all my courage, I got up, brushed the sand off my legs, and walked over to Taylor. I talked to him and the guys. Brandon was there and so was Ethan. The extent of my obsession with Taylor was made obvious by how little attention I paid to Ethan. Usually, I stole glances of him whenever I could. Ethan had a build that absolutely made me drool and yet, with Taylor standing there, he was practically invisible. Yeah, I had it bad for my blond boy. While Taylor and I were speaking with the others, our eyes kept meeting. It was clear there was something between us; I just didn’t know what. All the old questions, hopes, and doubts flooded my mind. I was drowning in a sea of uncertainty... lost in a universe with delights beyond imagining and terrors to freeze the soul. I had to get away, just for awhile. I had to think. I drifted away from Taylor and my friends and walked along the beach to the little bathhouse where swimmers could shower and change. I went inside. No one was there.
I was so nervous I was trembling. I knew what I wanted, but was afraid. I was no coward, I had reason to fear, but still... I leaned against the well-worn wooden wall and closed my eyes tightly, shutting out the entire world. I was so confused I didn’t know what to think. I was terrified of what could happen, but I loved Taylor so much it hurt. What if he was the one I’d been waiting on all my life? My mind traveled down the paths I’d trod before, going over the possibilities and the dangers yet again, coming no closer to a solution than ever. I was so upset I was almost in tears. I’d decided to take a chance on Taylor a hundred times, and I’d decided not to dare the risk just as often. I felt like the jack-ass in doubt who stood between two hay-stacks and starved to death. I had to make a decision or go out of my mind! I heard footsteps; someone was coming! I opened my eyes and fought to rein in my emotions. What I couldn’t share, I had to hide. I’d grown rather adept at hiding my feelings from others. I fought to pull myself together. I had only seconds. The facade had to go back up. The footsteps drew nearer, rounded the corner. It was Taylor. He’d followed me. He looked at me for a moment before he spoke. “Why did you run away at the dance, Mark? I thought we were becoming friends. Did I do something wrong?” He spoke with an earnestness that made me feel we’d already been friends forever. Why did I feel
as if I already knew him? His bright eyes peered at me. I felt as if he could look into my very soul. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I... I...” I actually could not speak. I couldn’t tell him what was running through my mind; the stakes were just too great. I was in hell. Before me was a boy for whom I felt great love, and I couldn’t begin to tell him of it for fear. For fear of rejection? Yes, but for far greater fears as well; the fear of being exposed, the fear of others knowing that I was different, that I dreamed of other boys at night instead of girls. All I wanted was someone to love and someone to love me back, but because I was different, I couldn’t even try for that love the way others could. Once again, I desperately envied all my classmates. How wonderful it must be for them to be so open and free! Taylor was looking at me with infinite patience, and... understanding? I’d nearly forgotten he was there, so lost in my own thoughts had I become. It was almost funny. I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head, and now that he was standing in front of me, I almost forgot he was there. Taylor could clearly tell I was distraught. His eyes were filled with compassion. I felt safe in that gaze in a way that I’d never felt safe before. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. When I opened them, Taylor was still peering at me, standing there as if he’d wait forever. He didn’t push me, didn’t prod me, he just... waited. A meek, but genuine smile played across my lips. I looked into his eyes and took a deep breath.
“I ran because I was afraid,” I admitted in a low voice. No one would ever know how hard it was to speak those words. I could have more easily jumped from a plane, without a parachute. “Afraid?” he repeated quietly, as if turning the concept over in his mind, fitting the piece into a puzzle he was carefully putting together. I was trembling, despite my best efforts to prevent it. I had to escape the private hell I lived in, and yet the mere attempt was harder than anything I’d ever done before. I summoned all my courage. I had to make the attempt. Mine wasn’t a life to live. Maybe Taylor would slug me in the face. Maybe he’d spit on me and tell me what a freak I was. Maybe he’d tell everyone about me. It didn’t matter anymore. I had to try. I owed myself a chance at happiness, even if the risk was beyond measure. I wasn’t a coward—far, far from it. I’d taken many risks in my life. What was life if one did not live it? This was but another risk, but so much more, for it wasn’t my body that was in danger; it was the very essence of what was me. I’d made up my mind. I would not run from this danger a second time. I was no coward. What I was about to do required courage almost beyond belief. There would be no more debating, no more hesitating. I’d make my stand. I would either prevail, or be destroyed. I gathered up all my courage. “I like you, Taylor,” I said, finally. I hesitated before going on, my heart pounding in my chest. “A lot.” I paused yet again. I’d
never been so awkward, nor so inept with my words. I knew the words I wanted to speak and yet it took a supreme effort to force them from my lips. I wanted to be eloquent, impressive, instead I was a bumbling fool. Finally, I just blurted it out. “I love you, Taylor.” There, I’d said it. It was out and I couldn’t take it back. No matter what happened, there was no way to undo what I’d done. I felt like I’d just condemned myself to a long and painful death. I looked into Taylor’s eyes, knowing that the fear in my own was plain to see. Taylor held my life in his hands. I’d literally given him the power to destroy me if he chose. I was a vampire who had placed a wooden stake in his hand. I waited to see if he would thrust it into my heart. Taylor looked at me. I couldn’t read him. He stepped toward me and I had to fight to keep from flinching. I really expected him to punch me. I really expected him to knock my teeth out. I looked deeper into his eyes and read understanding there, but yet I was still afraid. I couldn’t hope that he’d really understand. I couldn’t let myself have that hope, for fear it would prove false. At last, Taylor wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight. “I never would’ve had the balls to say that,” he said quietly. He leaned back and peered again into my eyes, his hands gently gripping my shoulders. “But I’m glad you did.”
I looked into his eyes. What I read there filled my heart with joy and forced all sad and painful thoughts from my mind. “I know it seems impossible so fast, but I love you, too, Mark. I can’t explain it. I don’t know why. I just know that I do.” I understood him perfectly. He hugged me close once more. I held him tight, practically crushing him in my arms as I choked back my tears. I never wanted to let him go. I don’t think I’d ever been as happy as I was at that moment. At last, I had someone to love, and someone to love me. The fears fled from my mind and left only the possibilities, only the potential joys. The entire universe shifted. My whole life changed. We stood there, holding each other close, for as long as we dared. We were in a public place, our classmates mingling just outside, and the likelihood of being discovered together increased with every moment that passed. Still, we held one another tight. Our long search was over; at last, we’d found each other. We finally broke our embrace, exchanged phone numbers, and hugged yet again. Then Taylor departed, returning to the beach. In case anybody was watching, I waited, then followed a few minutes later. I saw him once again talking with friends. I swam for a few minutes, then joined them, my eyes meeting Taylor’s over and over again as we talked. There was so much I wanted to say to him, but it would all have to wait. We
were surrounded by others and couldn’t speak freely in the least. *** I was bursting with joy as I walked the short distance from Brandon’s car to my house. I felt like I could walk on air. My mom greeted me as I walked in the door. “Mark, what happened to you?” “Huh?” I stared at her. She had a perplexed look on her face, halfway between surprise and curiousity. “You just look... happy,” she said. I smiled. I guess my mood was quite obvious. I mean, I’d barely walked in the door and Mom read me like a book. “Yeah,” I said. “I am!” I leaned down and gave her a great hug. My mother is rather small, only about five foot six and thin. At sixteen, I was already six feet tall and weighed 165 pounds. Whenever I hugged her, she seemed to get lost in my arms. “What happened?” “Just a good day,” I yelled over my shoulder, heading for my room. I felt a pang of sadness that I couldn’t share with her the real reason for my happiness. There was just no way she could understand. Besides, I wasn’t about to tell my parents about my sexual preferences—not Mom and sure as hell not Dad. He’d
absolutely freak! My dad thought I was some kind of soccer-playing stud, which I guess I was. But I knew he’d go nuts if he found out I was into guys. The very thought of telling him filled me with terror. No, I’d never go there. Actually, I wouldn’t have talked about what had happened with my parents even if I had fallen for a girl. We just never talked about stuff like that. Neither of my parents had ever breathed a word to me about sex. I was sure they’d both faint dead away if I said “penis” or “condom” or any such words in their presence. Sex was just something we never discussed, as if the topic didn’t even exist. Anything vaguely related to sex embarrassed the hell out of my parents. If we were watching television, my dad would get all uncomfortable if a bra commercial or something came on. He’d grab up a paper and start looking at it. If any douche commercials came on he was right out of that room fast. Mom was about the same. If a couple started making out on the screen, she’d suddenly remember something she had to do in the kitchen. I’m sure they’d both bolt from the room if I started talking about sex. There was no fucking way I’d ever tell them I was in love with a boy! The momentary sadness left me quickly. Nothing could spoil my day. I had a boyfriend at last. And what a boyfriend! Taylor was cute beyond my wildest dreams. I loved everything about him: his hair, his
face, his voice, his body, the way he smiled, the way he talked, just... everything! I lay back on my bed and thought about him. I couldn’t get him out of my mind, and I had absolutely no desire to do so. I had been so alone and then... bang, Taylor was in my life. I’d wanted someone like him for so long, and suddenly there he was. I looked around my room at my stereo, my computer, my record collection, and my sports trophies. I couldn’t wait to show Taylor all my stuff. I was particularly proud of my trophies. I’d played soccer for as long as I could remember, and my teams had won many championships. I’d been named most valuable player more than once, too. I loved soccer and it was something I was good at. I couldn’t wait to share that with Taylor. I wondered if he played. I wondered a lot of things. I was in a daze the rest of the night. I couldn’t sleep well. My mind raced, all with thoughts of Taylor. It was like my whole world now orbited around that beautiful boy. How had I survived all those years before I’d met him? It seemed almost impossible. I couldn’t imagine life without Taylor.
Taylor My head was spinning when I came home from the beach. I nearly couldn’t believe it had happened. My life seemed like a dream. I hadn’t been in Verona for a week and I already had a boyfriend! My heart had been right. There was something between Mark and I. He had only run away because he was afraid—afraid that I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, love him as he loved me. I was so happy I couldn’t sit still. I was too excited to even continue unpacking in my room. I left the house and walked around the streets of Verona. My new hometown was small, but I didn’t mind. Perhaps I would have, but I had Mark now and that’s all I needed. I walked downtown. There were old, tall buildings on either side of Main Street for a couple of blocks. There was a barber shop, a couple of beauty parlors, a corner bar called The Green Dragon with a big sign hanging out front with a large fire-breathing lizard painted on it, and two small restaurants called Cafe Moffatt and The Iron Kettle. There was an antique store and a few other shops as well. After a couple of blocks, one side of the street opened up in a big park. Across the park was an old theater, another restaurant called The Park’s Edge and a little ice cream and burger place called Ofarim’s. I stopped in Ofarim’s and got myself a vanilla ice cream cone before continuing to explore.
I walked across the street and into the park. Between licks of ice cream I looked around at the huge old trees, the picnic tables, the open air picnic pavilions, and at all the playground equipment. There were a lot of kids in the park, but most of them were younger. There were some guys about my age playing basketball, but I didn’t join in as I didn’t know any of them. Besides, I wanted to take some time to get to know my new home. I sat on a bench and looked out at the cool, green grass. It was the extreme edge of summer—almost fall I guess, since it was September—but it was still fine and hot and beautiful. The park was peaceful and I imagined myself there with Mark, holding hands as we walked around. I wished that we could walk hand in hand, but I knew we had to be careful. Boys like us couldn’t be open about what we were. I tried to pretend that I didn’t care what anyone thought of me, but the truth was I did care. Even when I was younger, my parents never had to spank me when I did something I wasn’t supposed to do. All they had to do give me a stern look and I’d start crying. It hurt when they were disappointed in me, and I guess it hurt when other people didn’t approve of me, too. I knew that a lot of people wouldn’t approve of Mark and me. That thought made me uncomfortable, but I was determined not to let it bother me. At last I had a real boyfriend and I wasn’t going to let anyone else ruin it. Besides, no one else would ever know.
I was already having romantic thoughts about Mark. I could picture us walking in the park, then maybe sitting and watching the moonlight side by side. I closed my eyes and imagined him drawing me closer and pressing his lips to mine. The mere thought of it made me smile. I couldn’t wait to be in his arms. Mark looked so very fine at the beach without a shirt. He had very nice muscles; I loved the shape of his chest and the way his biceps bulged. He was a lot more muscular than me, and I liked that. I liked him being stronger and just a bit taller, although there was barely an inch difference between our heights. I’d always dreamed about a tall, strong boy with dark hair and eyes who’d come and take me away with him. My life was quickly becoming that dream. I almost wished I could hold myself in this moment forever, right before it all started between Mark and me. I was blissfully happy just anticipating what was to come. I wouldn’t have stopped time even if it were within my power, however. As wonderful as this moment was, I couldn’t wait until I saw Mark again, and he really held me in his arms. Just being with him made me happy. I ate the last of my cone and found a fountain where I could drink some water and wash off my sticky face and hands. I wandered back through the park and into the streets of Verona. Most of the homes there were old, like the one my parents had purchased. Most had been built fifty or more years before, although a few newer homes had been constructed here and there.
I could see the upper stories of a huge house towering over the others in the distance. It must’ve been immense. As I drew near it, it seemed to grow in size. It was surrounded by a great wrought iron fence on all sides and the house and grounds took up an entire city block. I stared at it, my mouth dropping open in surprise. I couldn’t imagine a house so huge being in such a small town. It would’ve been huge even in a big city. The house was unthinkably old. A few of the windows were broken out and it had a dilapidated look, as if no one had lived there in ages. I thought it must have been beautiful once. In my mind’s eye, I could imagine what it must’ve looked like when it was new, with freshly-painted walls and carefully-tended gardens. Even in its forlorn condition, it had a stately beauty to it. The windows of the old home were dark. I almost felt as if ghosts were peering at me from inside. I would’ve been frightened had it been night, but in the light of day it wasn’t quite so scary. Still, I don’t think I’d have wanted to set foot there alone even in the daytime, and I knew I’d never dare to do so at night. It was a wonderful old place, though, probably filled with mystery and intrigue. I feared the old house in a way, but felt mysteriously drawn to it, as if it held something for me that I could not guess. I gazed at it a bit more, then made my way home. Once there, I continued to unpack, wondering what the future would bring. One thing at least I knew: I was glad that my new home was Verona.
Scene 3
Soccer Boy
Mark I was in a dream world. I was so happy, I felt like I could fly. My whole world had opened up. My future had seemed so bleak, at least as far as having a boyfriend was concerned, but suddenly my life seemed almost too good to be true. The truth is, things were so good, it frightened me a little. I was more than half afraid that it really was a dream. Maybe I’d fallen asleep on the hill by the school while I was looking at the stars. Or worse, maybe the whole thing was a dream. Maybe there was no Taylor at all. No— he was real. It was all real. My car was in the shop, so I walked to school on Monday morning. I didn’t mind walking at all. It was a gorgeous September day, and the weather was fine and unseasonably hot. The whole world seemed beautiful to me. I looked upon everything around me with a new set of eyes. I couldn’t believe what had happened. I actually had a boyfriend. I loved him, and best of all, he loved me! He was so cute, too, and so hot. I got a warm, fuzzy feeling just thinking about him. Taylor was my blond babe. No, that didn’t sound right—it was too girlish, and there was nothing girlish about Taylor. I thought about him all the time, and not just about having sex with him. I thought mostly about just being with him.
As I neared school, reality began to set in. I wanted to share my happiness with the whole world, but I knew they wouldn’t approve. I sighed; I’d almost forgotten I was a vampire. I could just imagine what my classmates would’ve thought if they knew I was in love with another guy. I was popular at school. I had a reputation for being tough, but yet still a nice guy, and funny, too. Mainly, I was known as a jock. I’d participated in football, swimming, and even a little track. Soccer was my real love, however, and at that I excelled. I knew that it was my prowess at soccer that really made me popular. I was a jock and jocks ruled! What would they all think if they knew I was gay? I doubt few of them even suspected. It’s not that my classmates were stupid, but they all seemed to buy the old stereotypes. Gay guys were effeminate, girl-like. They were pansies who spoke with a lisp and had weak wrists. They wanted to be girls. They were wimps, afraid of being men. They were freaks of nature. But I knew the stereotypes were a bunch of crap. Sure, there were some gay guys that fit that description. Hell, I bet there were straight guys who’d have fit it just as well. The truth was that any stereotype was just plain wrong. There were all types of gay guys, just as there were all types of guys, period. It’s too bad more people couldn’t understand that. I certainly didn’t fit the stereotype. I was a known jock, not exactly the pansy type. I didn’t have a lisp and I wanted to be a girl about as much as I wanted my dick ripped off. I loved being a guy. I enjoyed it. It
rocked! Everything about being male was cool. No, no one would ever suspect me of being gay, unless I tipped my hand. I felt my old ways returning. I was the vampire who lived in secrecy to avoid destruction. I was both powerful and vulnerable. If the villagers found me out, I’d get a stake through the heart for sure. Things were even more complicated than they had been before; now I had another vampire to protect. I wondered what to do about my relationship with Taylor. I wished we could hold hands the way other couples did in school. I wished we could kiss in the cafeteria and have all the other guys clap and howl. I wished we could make our feelings for each other public, or at least not have to hide them—but I knew that could not be. That knowledge took some of the joy from my heart, but I wasn’t going to let it get me down. I didn’t care if anyone else approved or what they might think. I’d never cared if anyone else approved of my clothes, my hair, my music, or anything else, and I didn’t give a damn about whether or not they’d approve of me and Taylor. Their feelings on the subject were irrelevant. Taylor was all that mattered. Being gay was becoming more accepted in the outside world. There were places where gay guys could be open about their relationships... places where no one gave it a second thought, where they could walk holding hands, even kiss in public. There were places where prejudice didn’t exist. Unfortunately, Verona, Indiana wasn’t one of those places. Like most of the Midwest, it was stuck fast in the dark ages, even more
so than most places. Yeah, I thought ruefully, I could be open about what I was in Verona... maybe about four hundred years after I was dead. *** One of the first people I bumped into in the halls was Taylor himself. We exchanged a high five. I’d rather have had a hug, but it was out of the question. Besides, our eyes said it all. Taylor lit up when he saw me, and I know my eyes sparkled with happiness. Our secret relationship added spice to my life, and I’m sure it did to his as well. There we were, surrounded by our classmates, and not one of them suspected that Taylor was my boyfriend. “Hey, Mark, can you tell me where Mr. Geoffrey’s first-period English class is?” “Cool, you have him first period? So do I! Come on.” I led Taylor through the halls. It was his first day at my school. He was at the dance on Thursday and the lake over the weekend only because his neighbor (one of the girls I saw admiring him) invited him along to meet a few people. Boy, did I owe her big! I’d never been so happy to go to class. Now that Taylor would be there I thought I might even start to like English. Yeah right! I did like writing a lot, but I didn’t give a damn about English class. I mean, who’s ever going to diagram a sentence in real life? I don’t see why it mattered that I know all about verbs, adjectives,
pronouns, and all that other crap. I mean, I already know how to use the words. I can speak and write quite well without knowing any of that. Notice that I said “speak and write well,” not “speak and write good.” See what I mean? I don’t need that shit! Maybe English was boring to me because it came so easily. I seemed to instinctively know all about it. There was no challenge. I wasn’t the best at spelling, but as for the rest, I could do it all. Literature was another matter. I freaking loved that class, but English? No way! Anyway, English was another chance to spend time with Taylor, so at last it had a useful purpose. Time with Taylor was something I really wanted. So far, we hadn’t even really talked. It was funny. I already considered him my boyfriend, but we barely knew each other. I was rushing into everything way too fast, but I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t taking a risk where Taylor was concerned. I knew in my heart that we were meant to be together. I read it in his eyes when we were alone together in the bath house out at Koontz Lake. I could just feel it, and I was never wrong about stuff like that. I’d had my doubts while gazing at him across the gym floor at the dance, but after we held each other close, there were no more doubts in my mind. Taylor sat next to me in English. I leaned over and talked with him before class started. “Taylor, are you busy after school?” I whispered. “Maybe we can do something together?”
“I’d like that, but I’m gonna see if I can get on the soccer team. Can we do something after that?” My whole face lit up. Oh yeah! “You play soccer?” I asked, incredulously. “I love it!” said Taylor. “I’ve played since I was a little kid.” Taylor was even into soccer! Things couldn’t get any better! Mr. Geoffrey started class before I had a chance to talk to Taylor about the soccer team, but I was hyped with the idea of him joining. I was so happy, even Mr. Geoffrey’s boring monotone lecture on the proper use of prepositions didn’t bring me down. I fidgeted the entire period and couldn’t keep from tapping my fingers on my desk. Mr. Geoffrey occasionally glared at me for that, but I just couldn’t help it. I was so pumped up someone was going to have to shoot me with a tranquilizer gun to calm me down. I felt like that a lot on the soccer field, but it was a first in English. Every time I ran into Taylor that day, I wanted to touch him. I could barely keep my hands off him. I did put my hand on his shoulder a few times, and touched his forearm once. I even draped my arm across his shoulder for a few moments before I sat down beside him at lunch, but that drew some looks from the other guys, so I pulled away pretty fast. I had to really watch myself. I couldn’t just do what came naturally; I had to remain on my toes. I felt like I was a Jewish boy trying
to escape notice in Nazi Germany, or a vampire avoiding sunlight and mirrors. I had to maintain my cloak of secrecy, or be destroyed. Discretion was more important than ever. It wasn’t just me anymore; now I had Taylor to protect, as well. I’d hoped for a chance to really talk to Taylor at lunch, but we were quickly joined by some of my buddies and a small flock of girls. Being popular has its disadvantages. The flock of girls were always somewhat of a problem with me. I knew some of them were after me. They flirted with me like crazy sometimes. But, of course, I wasn’t interested. Not that I didn’t like them. I enjoyed their company, but I sure didn’t want to date them. I’d been more than a little worried that others might think I was queer because I wasn’t dating. I mean, I had plenty of opportunities. I was good-looking, athletic, popular, and girls were obviously after me. Why wouldn’t a guy like that date unless he was gay? I looked at Taylor and felt a little flutter of fear in my stomach. My relationship with him was going to be a problem. We’d be spending a great deal of time together and rumors were sure to spread. It was bad enough with just me, but once Taylor and I started hanging out together, the problem would increase tenfold. We were going to have to do something about that, but I just wasn’t sure what yet. Taylor was already drawing plenty of attention himself. The guys liked him. There seemed to be a natural connection between athletic guys. I can’t really
explain it. I guess we just had sports as a common interest and that brought us all together. Taylor wasn’t as much of the jock type as I was. He was athletic and all that, but he had more of a sensitive nature and it showed. Where anyone who looked at me would immediately think “soccer player,” they might look at Taylor and think “artist” or “poet,” just as fast as they would “baseball player” or something like that. Of course, that’s one of the things that attracted me to him. Taylor had a sensitive side that I found appealing. He was a jock with the soul of a poet. The girls were certainly flirting up a storm with him. Who could blame them? Taylor was downright cute with his angelic face and gorgeous blond hair. His firm, well-formed body didn’t hurt matters either. He was more slim and firm than muscular, but he was beautiful. I wouldn’t have changed a thing about him if I could. Andrea, a cute little brunette who’d been after me since the sixth grade was really giving him the eye. I watched her as I ate. Her eyes were lit up with the same admiration that I knew showed in my own eyes. I had to restrain myself from calling out to her, “Too bad Andrea, he’s mine!” Taylor was good-natured with everyone. He joked around with the guys, and he also flirted with the girls just enough to deflect suspicion, without getting their hopes up. It gave me a warm feeling to see that he cared enough to spare the feelings of the girls. I mean, as cute as he was, he could’ve teased them mercilessly. I knew heterosexual guys who did that. They knew
some of the less-attractive girls had it for them bad. They flirted with them, pretended to be interested in them, built their hopes up... then dumped on them. They thought it was funny; I thought it was cruel. Taylor would never do that to anyone, I could just tell. Taylor wasn’t that kind of guy. He’d flirt, but never take things too far. He’d never intentionally hurt anyone. Taylor paid plenty of attention to me, too. We couldn’t speak freely surrounded by others, but there was still plenty we could talk about. I learned he was a natural at soccer, and that got my hopes up. There was only one spot open on the team, recently vacated by Brad, whose family had moved to Texas . A few guys had already tried for it, but coach shot them down, one by one. It wasn’t easy making the varsity soccer team. I hoped Taylor could do it, and I thought he had a good chance. The open position was center forward, exactly what Taylor had played at his last school. Even better, center forward was also my position. If Taylor got on the team, we’d be practicing and playing side by side. It seemed too good to be true and I prayed that he’d pull it off. *** Taylor tried out for the team that afternoon during practice. To my shock and relief, he totally nailed it! The coach was so impressed with him that he gave him the spot immediately. Coach McFadden was one of
those ‘win or don’t come back’ types, and he practically drooled over Taylor ’s ball-handling abilities. I know coach was thinking ‘championship’ as he slapped Taylor on the butt and sent him to the locker room to change. We were a tough team, but a bit weak on offense since Brad left. I was an awesome forward (if I do say so myself), but I couldn’t do it all alone, and the guys who had filled in since Brad departed just didn’t cut it. My friend, Devon, had been filling in most of the time and the relief on his face was evident when coach announced he was moving him back to right halfback. Devon was sharp, but just not up to the pressure in the center. Everyone was happy—coach, Devon, Taylor , the team, and most of all, me! Taylor looked awesome as he ran onto the field in his blue and white soccer uniform, his golden hair flowing behind him. He was so beautiful it made my heart ache. I know, I shouldn’t have been so hung up on someone because of their looks. That was pretty shallow. It was okay in this case, however, because I was so totally obsessed with Taylor in every way. His looks were just part of that. If, God forbid, he was in a terrible accident that messed up his face, I knew I’d still love him. I knew it wouldn’t change the way I felt about him. No, I wasn’t shallow; I just appreciated what I had. Coach divided up the team and we played a practice game. Taylor and I worked together like a well-oiled machine. It was like we could read each others mind; we always knew just where, and when, to pass. We
were unstoppable, cutting through our opponents like a hot knife through butter. It wasn’t long before the team was chanting “Taylor! Taylor!” Taylor was in. He was one of us. Perhaps I should’ve felt a little jealous, maybe even a little insecure that there was another hot shot on the team. I generally defended my position aggressively, letting no one stand in my way. Nothing was further from my mind on that day, however. I was more thrilled with Taylor’s success than I was my own. I loved him. Coach McFadden held Taylor back a few minutes after practice, so I showered, dressed, and waited for him in the gym. He came out of the locker room looking totally hot in his jeans and polo shirt. The open buttons revealed just a hint of his hard, tanned chest and made my heart beat just a little faster. I peered deeply into his blue-green eyes. He smiled and it made him all the more breathtaking. I still couldn’t believe this blond stud-puppy was my boyfriend. “Taylor, can you come to my house?” “Sure,” he said. “Hey, Mark—call me ‘Tay.’ All my close friends back in Ohio called me that.” I grinned. “Sure... Tay.” I liked the sound of that. We walked toward my house, in no particular hurry. We had so much to talk about, a lifetime of catching up to do. There was so much I didn’t know about Tay, and he knew equally little about me. The more we talked, the more we had in common. So many of our interests
were the same, it was as if Tay had been specially designed, just for me. We’d known each other such a short time, and yet, I felt like I’d known him forever. Maybe that stuff about reincarnation was true; maybe we’d already spent whole lifetimes together. I didn’t know about that, but I liked the idea of spending lifetimes with Tay. If we hadn’t done it before, maybe we could start now. I was right about him being a poet. He did write poetry. When I read some, days later, it was like his poems let me peer directly into his soul. I’d never been that big on poetry. To be honest, I’d always hated the stuff and sure couldn’t write it myself. Taylor’s poems were different, however. They weren’t about trees or flowers or some shit like that; they were about how he felt. I guess I connected with them because they were so much like what I’d felt. I could feel the loneliness in his poems. I could feel the heartache, the pain, the desperate longing, the sense of waiting for someone, the fear of being exposed. I’d never have been able to get all those things down on paper, but Taylor could. He really was a poet. Taylor was also far more sensitive than I was. I don’t mean that I didn’t care for anyone, or about anyone, or any of that. It’s just that I didn’t think all that much about it. My thoughts were always wrapped around the next soccer game, playing basketball with my friends, or buying some new record. I don’t know. I guess I was just a physical kinda guy. I had feelings, but I just didn’t dwell on them. Taylor did. He was so sweet and
thoughtful. That attracted me to him all the more. In a lot of ways he was just like me, but in others he was vastly different, almost my opposite. Maybe it was true—maybe opposites did attract. Of course, our similarities were pretty attractive to me, too. I mean, a boyfriend who was a kick-ass soccer player... how could anyone beat that? “You impressed the hell out of the coach,” I said. “I guess so. I’m just glad I got on the team. I’d die if I wasn’t able to play soccer!” I almost burst out laughing. “Are you sure you aren’t me?” I asked, grinning. “Soccer is my life—or at least it was. Now, there’s something far more important to me—or rather someone.” I smiled at Tay and he grinned from ear to ear. “You’re so cute,” I couldn’t help saying it out loud. Taylor actually blushed. He possessed the shyness of a little boy, and the beauty of a young man. “Stop!” said Tay, shaking his head. “You’re embarrassing me.” “Okay, but it’s true.” “Thanks,” he said. “And since you brought it up, I could say the same about you.” It was my turn to get embarrassed. I’ve never learned to take a compliment. “We’re both getting pretty sappy,” I said. “Hey, you’re the one who started it!” said Tay. He was right, but how could I help it? I laughed. “What’s so funny?” he asked, giggling.
“I was just thinking about all the times I made fun of Brandon and some of the other guys when they got sappy with their girls. All that, ‘you’re so beautiful’ stuff sounded so corny. But now...” Taylor just smiled at me. We switched the topic since neither of us was comfortable with the present one. I wasn’t all that big on discussing feelings, and Tay seemed pretty shy on the subject, too. It didn’t matter. We didn’t need words to express how we felt; we could read it in each others’ eyes. We chatted all the way home, about everything. We’d known each other such a short time, and yet we talked like we’d been together for years.
Taylor I gazed at Mark as we walked. He was so handsome. I felt as if I were in a waking dream. All my life I’d been waiting for someone who understood me... someone I could share my most private thoughts with. And now he was walking by my side. I felt as if I’d never been whole before, as if a part of myself had always been missing. Mark was that missing part. He made me complete. I loved my new school. Mark had a lot to do with that, and so did making the soccer team, but it was way better than my old school anyway. I’d already made some friends, but that was largely thanks to Mark, too. I’d met his best friend, Brandon, at lunch. Brandon was also on the soccer team, and he was really cool. I could tell I was going to like him. Ethan, the really built boy who was so nice to me at the dance, was one of Mark’s friends, too. He wasn’t a soccer player, but that didn’t matter. Mark also introduced me to Jon, but we barely had enough time to do more than say “hi.” The table was so crowded that it was almost confusing. Mark also introduced me to Devon, too. He was another soccer player and was really cute, very friendly and made me feel like I belonged. Everyone was really cool. There were girls sitting at the table too, but I didn’t pay nearly as much attention to them. I was nice to
them, of course, but the boys were of far more interest to me, and I don’t just mean sexually. A lot of the boys at the table were hot, but that didn’t matter. As far as their looks were concerned, they were eye candy, and nothing more. I had Mark, so I didn’t need anyone else. I was interested in the boys as friends, however. You can never have too many friends. I loved just hanging out with guys, laughing and joking. I was comfortable with them, even though I let them do most of the talking. My mind was racing with all that was happening in my life. I was in a new town, going to a new school, and making new friends. I’d just joined a new soccer team and was getting used to a whole new world. On top of all that, I had a boyfriend for the first time in my life! I forced my thoughts to slow down. I just wanted to take it all in and enjoy it. I’d never been so happy before. I wanted to take Mark’s hand and hold it. I couldn’t wait until I could do so. Maybe we could take a walk at night and hold hands. It would be so romantic. I’d been having a lot of romantic thoughts about Mark. He was the kind of boy I’d been dreaming about, even before I really knew I was into guys. For a long time, I didn’t understand my attraction to boys. I liked being with them, having fun with them, but I didn’t know that there was a physical attraction beneath it all. It wasn’t until I was around thirteen that I realized something more was going on. Even before puberty, I’d yearned for a boy like Mark in my life, but once I’d started
maturing, I knew there was much more to it than mere friendship. I knew then that I wanted to find someone special and spend my life with him. I was dying to touch Mark. Most of my thoughts about him were romantic, but some were just plain sexual. I was a virgin. I hoped he was, too. I wanted us to have our first time together. I knew it was a little early to be thinking about sex, but I was sixteen and I’d been wanting and needing sex since I was thirteen. I wondered what Mark would be like in bed. I’d seen him without a shirt at the beach. His muscular torso made me weak in the knees. I hadn’t failed to check out his swimsuit either, especially when it was all wet and clinging tightly to his body. I loved the way it hugged his butt. From the front, I’d been able to partly make out the outline of his cock. It had made my own spring to life. I frowned for a moment. Why did the word ‘cock’ suddenly seem so vulgar? Was I wrong to be thinking of Mark sexually? I didn’t think so. Maybe it would’ve been wrong if that’s all I thought about, but sex was only a part of what I wanted with Mark. True, I wanted it pretty bad, but I knew in my heart there was far more between us than mere physical attraction. If I was looking for sex, and nothing more, there were plenty of guys I’d have gone for. I’d have jumped on Ethan in a flash; Brandon and Devon were pretty hot, too. But I did want more... much more. Even if I knew Mark and I would never make love, I’d still have been deliriously happy. I just knew that whatever we did together
would be wonderful. I was as excited by the possibility of just being with him as I was with the possibility of sleeping with him. We’d barely started, but I already loved him with all my heart.
Scene 4
Never a Moment Alone
Mark Mom was in the kitchen when Tay and I came through the back door. I could read the question in her eyes. I rarely brought any of my friends home. We always seemed to hang out elsewhere. My parents weren’t all that cool. There wasn’t anything wrong with them exactly; I just didn’t want my friends around them that much. But I guess most guys pretty much felt that way about their parents. “Mom, this is Tay.” She gave him her warmest smile. “Tay, nice to meet you.” “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Bailey.” I was relieved to see my mom liked Tay. He was polite, and that got anyone my age on her good side real fast. He also had a clean-cut, ‘boy next door’ look that I knew my mom would like. He didn’t have anything pierced either, so that was another mark in his favor. Her initial reaction to him was a good sign. I wanted my parents to like Taylor because I hoped he’d be around a lot. I handed Tay a Coke from the fridge and pulled him into the living room, where we sat on the couch and watched a little television. Mom popped her head in and asked Tay to stay for supper. He grinned and nodded. Taylor was really fitting in. We lounged
around for a bit talking and watching TV. I didn’t have the energy for much more; I was already worn out from practice and was starting to get sleepy. Before my eyelids grew too heavy, I fought it off and took Tay to my room. I closed the door behind us. “Cool room,” he said, looking over at the dozen or so trophies of various sizes on the shelves. “You must be a real soccer champ,” he said. “I’ve been on some awesome teams,” I replied, trying to be humble. I wasn’t really very good at being modest. To be honest, I pretty much thought I was hot stuff on the soccer field. I should’ve been; I worked damned hard at it! “From what I saw today, you’re the one who’s awesome,” said Taylor. “If you keep complimenting me, I’ll have to say something about your looks again!” I warned. “You want me to get sappy?” “Okay, okay! I surrender,” he said, laughing. He couldn’t stand up to my secret weapon—the compliment. “So what kinda music do you like?” I asked, flipping through my records, trying to find something I thought Tay would go for. “I like just about everything, except country and western, show tunes, and that opera crap. That shit makes me hurl!” “Tell me about it!” I said, laughing. “Someone could use opera to torture me for information. I’d spill my
guts before I’d listen to that crap.” I mimicked someone being interrogated, “I’ll talk! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything! Just turn it off, please!” I couldn’t decide what record to play, so I finally just pulled one out at random, a recent ELO album. I don’t even remember which one it was. Tay said the music was cool. I have the feeling he would’ve said that if I put on some of that opera shit we were talking about, but he seemed to genuinely enjoy the music. I flung myself on my bed and Tay sat beside me. I kept looking at him and thinking how attractive he was. I loved everything about him, even the way he continually brushed the hair out of his eyes. He kept his long, blond hair tucked behind his ears as much as possible, but it just wouldn’t stay. I loved the way his hair trailed down past his shoulders. I wished I could get my hair that long, but my parents practically threw a fit if it got even two inches over my ears. Every time my hair started looking cool, they made me get it cut. Parents! Tay was handsome, but his looks were only part of what made him so appealing. His kind heart and cheery disposition made him all the more attractive, as did the fact that he seemed largely unaware of his own beauty. It was obvious I couldn’t mention his looks. It embarrassed him so much he turned red as a beet. I had to bite my tongue to keep from bringing up how great he looked. Taylor ’s modesty really did make him more attractive. I knew a few good-looking guys at school
that were totally hung up on themselves. It was obvious that they were really impressed with their own looks. They were always checking themselves out in the mirror and combing their hair just right. They reminded me of girls. Some boys really got off on their own bodies. Some of the guys in my gym class, and a couple on the soccer team, were like that. They were always flexing their muscles while they watched themselves in the mirror. If you ask me, those guys were conceited as hell. They were so impressed with themselves that it detracted from their looks. Devon was kind of like that. He was a good guy mostly, but I could tell he thought he was really hot. I once suggested that he date himself since no one was as good-looking as him. I think he took it as a compliment. Anyway, Taylor was definitely not one of those guys, and I was glad of that. I sat up. Being so near Taylor excited me and I didn’t want him to see what was happening in my pants. I didn’t want him to think I wanted him just for his body. Sure, I did want him, oh boy did I want him, but that was only a small part of the life I wanted with Taylor. He excited me in many ways, and not just sexually. My heart was actually beating faster than normal, just because he was there. I wanted to hug him, or hold his hand or something, but I was really a pretty shy guy, at least when it came to things like that. You’d never know it watching me on the soccer field or when I was playing football or basketball with my
friends. I was a maniac when I played, but when I was alone with someone I was a different boy. After all, it wasn’t like I was experienced. I’d never had a girlfriend—and never wanted one. Taylor was my first and only boyfriend. I was stumbling through virgin territory, if you’ll forgive the pun. With Tay I was more shy than ever. I didn’t want to do anything stupid and wind up looking foolish in front of him. I didn’t give a damn about what the rest of the world might think, but I cared deeply about what Taylor thought of me. After what seemed like hours, I slowly reached out, grasped his hand, and held it. He looked down at my hand and smiled shyly, then gave my hand a little squeeze. I was in Heaven. I was sitting right beside Tay, about as close as one could imagine. The contact with his body sent my head spinning. I was keenly aware of everything about him. As we talked, my eyes drifted all over him. I noted every detail—his white-blond eyebrows, his perfect skin. I loved everything about him. It was hard to believe how happy I was, just because he was there. The scent of Taylor’s hair and cologne sent my heart spinning. We’d been talking the whole time we’d been sitting on the bed, but I don’t remember much of what we said. I turned to Taylor, my eyes met his, and my words slowly trailed off into silence. We sat there just gazing into each others eyes then slowly began to lean forward. I felt as if our souls were communicating in a way we never could with words. Slowly, I raised my arms and wrapped them around him, drawing him
closer still, and he returned my embrace. We sat there and hugged. It was the greatest feeling I’d ever experienced. I could feel his hot breath on my neck and his heart pounding in his chest. I wanted to hold him forever and feel his strong arms around me. “I feel so safe when you hold me,” he whispered. “I feel safe in a way I never have before.” He was safe. Nothing would ever happen to him. I’d die to protect him. Of that I had no doubt. I loved him and I’d do anything for him... anything. Taylor leaned back just a little and looked into my eyes. “Mark, have you ever...” He paused. I could tell it was difficult for him to speak his mind. He looked away, embarrassed. “This is tough,” he said. I smiled. “You can ask me anything, Taylor... anything.” He took a deep breath. “Have you ever... you know, done anything with another guy?” “Sure, lots!” I said. Taylor looked kind of shocked. I laughed. “In my dreams, anyway,” I explained. “But in real life—nothing. Not even once.” “You’re wicked!” he said, visibly relieved. “You had me thinking all kinds of things.” “And you like that I’m wicked, don’t you, Tay?” I said with a mischevious grin. “Oh yeah, baby,” he said and giggled.
I put my right hand on his shoulder. “So have you ever... y’know, with a guy?” I asked. “No,” he said, shaking his head, “and not with a girl either. Well, I did kiss this one girl at my old school— or rather, she kissed me. There were no tongues or anything.” “My cousin kissed me once,” I said. “That’s it for me—one quick kiss on the lips from my girl cousin.” “I guess we’re officially virgins then,” said Tay. “Yeah, and I’m glad,” I said. “I haven’t been too happy about it in the past, but it’s different now. Now it means that when we—you know—we’ll both have our first time together.” Taylor smiled, and turned a little red. Talking about sex was a lot more difficult with just the two of us, alone in my bedroom, than it was in a locker room full of guys. Well, you know what I mean. Talking about sex in the locker room was just bull-shitting; in my bedroom it was real. “Uhm, Mark?” he asked expectantly. “Yeah?” “Do you, ah... you know?” The way Tay was so shy was really cute. I don’t know how, but somehow I knew just what he was talking about. I grinned and made a little hand gesture. “You mean, do I jerk off, beat my meat, spank my monkey?” “Yeah.”
“All the time,” I said earnestly. “How could any guy not do it all the time?” “Me, too,” he admitted. “You know what they say?” I asked. “What?” “That half of the guys in the world admit to whacking it, and the other half are lying.” Taylor laughed, but his face was beet-red now. I was kind of embarrassed, too. I knew it’d get easier though, it was just going to take us a little time. All that talk about what we’d done—or in our case not done with another guy—was getting to me. It was definitely getting hot in there. We grew quiet and I hugged Taylor close to me once more. He nuzzled up against my cheek, then closed his eyes and sighed. I’d never dreamed that just hugging someone could make me so content. It was the most wonderful feeling in all the world. I just sat there, lost in the moment and enjoying the closeness, love, and warmth. My God, it was wonderful! Mom knocked on the door and popped her head into my room. “Supper’s ready, boys!” she said cheerily. She was gone as quickly as she came, but my heart was pounding in my chest, and I practically shit my pants. Luckily, Tay and I had released each other in a flash the moment she had opened the door, and sat apart on the bed. Mom didn’t suspect a thing, but it was way
too close. What if she had caught us hugging? Like I wanted to explain something like that to my mother! Tay looked at me and shrugged with his eyes; I knew what he meant. Being together was going to pose some interesting—and difficult— problems. I forgot all about the incident at supper. Dad was home and he seemed to like Tay as much as Mom did. He quizzed him about his soccer team in Ohio and all sorts of sports stuff. I could tell Mom was a little bored, but we three guys were having a great time. Sometimes, I felt a little sorry for Mom. Dad was a sports nut and I was a jock, but Mom was always kind of outnumbered. And now, with Taylor, she was really outnumbered. She didn’t seem to mind all that much. She had her own friends, but still, I bet she wished I had a sister. I wished more than anything that I could introduce Tay to my parents as my boyfriend. I wanted to share my happiness with them, but I knew I’d never be able to do that. They’d freak! Especially my father. He’d go absolutely ape-shit if he knew his ‘jock son’ was into guys. It made me a little sad to know I’d never be able to share that part of my life with them, but I didn’t let it take away from the happiness of the moment. Tay seemed like part of the family. It was as if finally, everything was going just right. ***
Taylor was over at my house, or I was at his place, pretty much every day that week. Between soccer practice, homework, and the demands our families made on us, we didn’t have much time alone together. Sure, we had time together—just not any alone. Still, it was cool when Taylor hung out at my house. Having him in my living room, my kitchen, and my bedroom was as exciting to me as having some celebrity over. Even more so, as I wasn’t in love with any celebrity. Hanging out at Tay’s was cool, too. His folks were typical parents, I guess. Taylor’s dad was a little heavy-set and looked like he was probably glued to the chair in the living room. Tay’s mom was really nice, and very pretty. I wondered why she hooked up with someone like Taylor’s father. Not that he wasn’t okaylooking in his way; he just wasn’t attractive compared to his wife. I could tell where Tay got his looks: his mom had beautiful blonde hair and the same deep greenish-blue eyes. Since her son was sixteen, she had to be in her mid-thirties at least, but she looked like she was only in her early twenties at the most. I knew for a fact that most of the guys from school would’ve been drooling over her, but not me. Tay’s mom was hot, but I was only interested in her son. I sure as hell didn’t say anything to Taylor about his mom’s looks. Of course, coming from me, he would’ve known it didn’t mean anything. Still, I didn’t want to make any waves so I kept quiet about it. We spent as much time together as we could, but still it wasn’t enough. Our time alone together was
particularly rare. We did manage to hug a few times, and I sure liked that. I wanted more than anything to kiss Taylor, but he was shy by nature and I was kind of embarrassed about doing that sort of thing. I mean, I wanted to kiss him, but I just didn’t want to push him too fast. I didn’t want to do anything before he was ready. I knew I was probably being over cautious, but better that than ruin everything by being some kind of sex-crazed maniac. Besides, the anticipation was enjoyable in itself. I wondered what it’d be like. I found myself gazing at Taylor’s lips, dreaming about the first time I would kiss him.
Taylor Every day of my life was special because of Mark. He was the first thing I thought of when I awoke in the morning, and the last thing I thought of at night. During the day, more times than I could count, Mark entered my mind and made me smile. A lot of people searched their whole lives without finding somebody to love, but I’d managed to find Mark and I was only sixteen years old! I knew I was incredibly lucky, and I intended to enjoy every last second of it. A car horn blared out front. I grabbed my stuff and ran out. I didn’t recognize the car, but I knew Mark’s friend, Brandon, was driving. Well, I guess Brandon was now my friend, too. It was still kind of hard to think of Mark’s friends as my own, but I’d get the hang of it. It was Saturday and we were going to Halloween World, an amusement park about forty-five minutes from Verona. I climbed in the back with Mark. He smiled when he saw me. “Hey, guys!” “Hey, Taylor dude,” said Brandon. “Hey, Taylor,” said Ethan. Ethan was wearing a tank top and he looked fine. He was so beautifully-muscled and tight, he should’ve been on the cover of a fitness magazine. Every time I saw
him, I just wanted to say “Whoa!” Mark smiled at me. I’m pretty sure he knew what I was thinking, especially when he raised his eyebrows at me as if to say “Isn’t he hot?” Brandon blared the radio for a bit so we couldn’t even talk, but then he turned it down. As soon as he did, Mark started talking about the park. “This place is so cool! I can’t wait to show it to you, Taylor. They’ve got this ride called The Splashing Specter that’s so awesome! It’s like riding the rapids in a big raft, and it even goes through this flooded graveyard with coffins and bodies and stuff floating around!” I grinned. “Sweet!” “The Haunted House is so incredible, too,” he continued excitedly. “You ride through on this little car and it takes you all over this huge haunted house. There’s ghosts flying through the air, witches, black cats... all kinds of stuff. There’s even a mummy that comes out of this sarcophagus and grabs for you.” “Tell him about The Poltergeist, Mark. I know how you love The Poltergeist,” nudged Brandon. I could tell from the devilish tone of Brandon’s voice that something was up. “Shut up!” said Mark. “You were too chicken to get on it last time, too, so you can’t talk.” “Let’s all ride it this time!” said Ethan.
“Good idea! I will if you will, Mark,” taunted Brandon. “Yeah, okay, wimp—I’ll do it!” “You in, Taylor?” asked Ethan. “Sure,” I said, but I felt a lot less confident than I sounded. From the way they were all talking, The Poltergeist sounded pretty frightening. “Just what is The Poltergeist?” I asked. “It’s a bad-ass rollercoaster,” said Brandon. “It’s the biggest one in Indiana—not that that’s saying much, but it’s as good or better than those in even the bigger parks on the East coast. It goes like sixty miles per hour!” I was suddenly less sure that I wanted to brave The Poltergeist, but I didn’t want to chicken out in front of the other guys, especially Mark. I was excited as we pulled up in front of Halloween World and I caught a glimpse of the orange and black banners flying above the admission booths. I’d always loved amusement parks, but didn’t get to go very much. It was cool that this one was so close. At first, we just kinda walked around checking things out. I loved the spooky music that played on speakers everywhere we went. There were a lot of cool statues of creatures and witches and mad scientists, like some kind of bizarre monster movie come to life. Ethan screamed when one of them grabbed him as we walked past. The rest of us burst out laughing. Ethan looked like he’d just about crapped his pants, but he was soon laughing with us, too. It was just a park employee in a
costume. I gave the statues a wide berth when I walked by them from then on. I was glad Ethan got grabbed instead of me. It was way cool. Mark and I shared a bag of cotton candy. I’d never seen orange and black cotton candy before, but it tasted great. Brandon and Ethan each got huge ice cream cones. I thought those looked good too, but I couldn’t eat everything at once. “Are you ready for The Poltergeist?” said Brandon in a bad Boris Karloff impression. “There’s still time to back out, Mark. I won’t tell anyone at school you don’t have any balls if you decide to wimp out on us.” “Bring it on, girly-boy!” said Mark, but he didn’t look as confident as he sounded. I must admit I was nervous as we approached The Poltergeist. I could see part of the track in the distance, and the cars looked like they went awfully high and dropped off a cliff at one point. There’s no way I’d have gone on it by myself. I was already thinking I was making a big mistake, but I just couldn’t back out. I didn’t want Mark to think I was chicken and I didn’t want Brandon or Ethan thinking it either. It was early in the day, so the line wasn’t too bad. It was only a few minutes before we were sitting in the coaster. It was a good thing the wait wasn’t long because I was growing more nervous with every passing second. I felt a lurch in my stomach as the car slowly pulled out to the sound of cackling laughter. Brandon and Ethan were in the seat in front of us. Mark reached out and clasped my hand as the car began
to climb up and up. As we rose higher in the air, I grew more apprehensive. I could tell Mark was scared. He was holding my hand tightly and he had a look of fear on his face. As we reached the top and started to head straight down, he held my hand tighter and gripped onto the bar with the other. After a momentary pause, we began plummeting at an incredible speed, and everyone started screaming. I was glad, because I didn’t want to be the only one yelling my head off. I held onto Mark’s hand and onto the bar in front of me. Brandon and Ethan had their hands raised in the air, but I wasn’t about to let go of either Mark or the coaster. I knew we were perfectly safe, but I still had an irrational fear that I’d die if I let go even for a moment. We passed through a long tunnel so quickly that it was a mere moment of darkness before we came back out into the light, then ripped around a corner and I was just sure the coaster was going to fly right off the track. My stomach rose in my body as we topped out and headed back down again. I felt weightless and was terrified I’d come flying right out of my seat. Mark was practically crushing my hand and I was doing the same to his. I don’t think I’d ever been so scared in my entire life. I just prayed it would end soon. Riding The Poltergeist was thrilling, and fun in its way, but I wanted nothing more than for the ride to end. My heart was pounding in fear and the only way I could keep from panicking was to keep screaming. We zipped up and down, around corners, and through
tunnels. It seemed like we were going much, much faster than sixty miles per hour. Judging by the blurs moving past our heads, I would’ve guessed we were going over a hundred. At last, we lurched around a final corner, careening into the station. It looked like we were going to shoot straight through, but the coaster suddenly braked hard and we jolted to a halt. My heart was trying to burst out of my chest and I felt shaky all over. I looked over at Mark and he was white as a ghost. When we stopped and the bars came up, Brandon bolted from his seat and ran for a trash can. I soon knew why. Seconds later, he hurled up the ice cream and everything else he’d eaten for everyone to see. I was feeling a little nauseous myself, and could well understand why he blew chunks. I felt sorry for him, especially since everyone in line was watching, but it was kind of funny that he was the one to get sick after bragging so much. I wondered what the people waiting in line to get on the ride thought when they saw him puking his guts out. If I’d been them, I might’ve started heading in the opposite direction. On the way out, we stopped to look at the instant pictures they’d captured of us while we were on The Poltergeist. Brandon and Ethan looked like they were having a blast, while Mark and I looked terrified, which was exactly right. I had no intention of ever getting on that ride again. I didn’t care what anyone thought about me.
I froze as I was looking at the photo of me and Mark. I nudged him and he saw it too. I hadn’t noticed it at first because my eyes were drawn to our frightened faces, but there, as clear as day in the picture, was Mark and me holding hands. I was terrified that Brandon or Ethan would see it, while at the same time, I really wanted a copy of that picture, just to look at to remember our love for each other. But Mark and I hurried the guys along so they wouldn’t have time to notice. Brandon was still holding his stomach as we walked away from The Poltergeist, but it didn’t take him long to recover. Mark was getting his color back and I was feeling less woozy. Brandon and Ethan headed off on their own for a bit and Mark and I sat down on a bench near The Bouncing Castle, a ride for kids. Mark looked like he was about ready to cry. “Are you okay?” I asked. “Yeah,” he said wearily. “It’s just that I didn’t think it’d be that bad. I’ve ridden that thing before, but I’d kinda forgotten how scary it was. I’m absolutely terrified of heights. I should’ve have never got on that thing. Anything high scares me to death. It’s like my whole head starts to spin. As soon as we started dropping, I thought I was gonna die.” “You’re brave,” I said soothingly. “Not really. I was terrified.” “Being brave is going ahead and doing something even when you’re afraid,” I told him. “I bet Brandon isn’t afraid of heights, and look what he ended up doing.” We both laughed.
“Poor Brandon—that had to be embarrassing. I’ll have to file the incident away for future use, of course. The next time he cuts me down he’s gonna get it,” said Mark, with a wicked smile on his face. I didn’t know Brandon real well, but he and Mark were tight. I had the feeling they really let each other have it at times. Only close friends could do that. Mark and I walked around the park for a bit, giving our heart-rates a chance to return to normal. I loved just walking around the park, looking at all the cool stuff there. Some of the trees were covered by huge spider-webs, with enormous spiders sitting in them. Skeletons held signs pointing in the direction of rides and food stands. There were big jack o’lanterns, candles, spooky lighting... pretty much a perfect recreation of Halloween. In the center of the park was a huge old mansion, no doubt the haunted house that Mark had described. “Hey, want to try out The Phantom Falls?” asked Mark. “It’s not another rollercoaster, is it?” I asked nervously. “No—it’s got one big climb and a fast drop near the end, but it’s nothing like The Poltergeist, believe me. I’ve been on it lots of times. It’s fun!” Sounded good enough to me. “OK, Dude, let’s go,” I said. Mark and I made our way to The Phantom Falls, passing Mummy’s Pizza and Goblin Burger. As we
reached the line I saw that it was a log ride. It looked like fun. There was a bit of a wait, but it wasn’t long before Mark and I climbed into a log. Mark sat behind me and I leaned up against him. I didn’t care if I liked the ride or not, it was worth while just to feel Mark’s firm body pressing up against mine. Our log slowly floated down a narrow stream and immediately entered a dark tunnel. It was pitch black in there. I felt Mark encircle my waist with his arms and hold me close. I leaned back into him and placed my hands on his own. He gave me a hug and it was so wonderful that I felt like I could fly. Light appeared at the end of the tunnel, as well as what looked like thick fog. Mark kept holding me until we reached the fog, which was a very fine mist of water. We came out of the tunnel, blinking in the bright sunlight. Our log followed the stream as it twisted and turned, going faster and faster, almost like we were riding the rapids. A cemetery came up on our left. I tried to read the stones as we went by, but we were going so fast by then I could only make out “Here lies Jed, because he’s dead” and “Dave... he’s finally in his grave.” We made a sharp turn and the log banged into the side wall. We rushed on faster than ever until we hit a small pool with a splash, and a big conveyer belt pulled our log up and up a steep incline. I was pushed tightly back against Mark. I liked that a lot, since I was pretty sure Mark was getting excited. I could feel something
hard pressing into my butt and I don’t think Mark had a banana in his pocket. But even if I’d had the nerve, I didn’t have time to ask him. The instant we hit the top, the log dropped nearly straight down at high speed. We both screamed and hit bottom seconds later. Water sprayed everywhere, dowsing our laughing faces. We were both soaking wet, and it felt great. “You’re right,” I told Mark, “this ride is awesome.” “I especially liked the tunnel,” said Mark seductively, as we got out of our log. “Me, too,” I replied, “but I think my favorite was going up the conveyor belt.” Mark grinned shyly. I was sure he knew exactly what I meant. “Let’s do The Haunted House next! It’s real dark in there,” said Mark, seductively. “Mmmm, sounds good to me,” I nodded. On the way there, we met up with Brandon and Ethan and they decided to join us. As we stood in line, I could see that we’d be riding through The Haunted House in a kind of short rollercoaster-type car. Each car had two seats, just enough for four people. Mark and I made sure to get in a seat together. Unfortunately, Brandon and Ethan got in the back seat, so Mark and I would have to be careful about what we did. I felt kind of wicked. It was kind of a thrill that Mark and I were dating and that Brandon and Ethan knew nothing about it. I bet they’d never have guessed
that Mark was holding me tight just a minute earlier on The Phantom Falls. Our car entered The Haunted House through massive double-doors that looked like they belonged on a castle. We were immediately plunged into total darkness and Mark took my hand without any fear that our friends would notice. It was way too dark in there for them to know what we were doing. We could’ve made out without them knowing it. I desperately wanted to kiss Mark, but I couldn’t work up the courage. It made me feel all fuzzy just thinking about what it’d be like when we were able to finally kiss. A cacaphony of moans and groans surrounded us. Flashes of lightning sliced through the windows, while “thunder” rumbled in the distance. The effect was almost perfect: I really felt like I was in a big, old, abandoned house with a storm raging outside. I jumped and grabbed onto Mark as a ghostly voice whispered right in my ear. He didn’t mind; it was dark enough that I just kept right on holding him. It felt so good. We passed through rooms with rotting furniture and ghostly forms whisking about. The ghosts looked like they were real, appearing and disappearing at will. One of them was even playing an enormous, creepysounding organ. You couldn’t turn your head without encountering another bizarre ghostly creature. I knew I’d have to go on that ride over and over to see it all. Brandon cried out as “bats” flew over us, brushing our hair. That made all of us laugh. A mummy came out of a closet and shuffled between our car and
another, just barely missing us as we went on our way. A black robotic cat hissed at us as we passed by, and a zombie chased our car for awhile. I loved the dark, spooky atmosphere. I never knew what was coming up. Of course, the darkness was perfect for Mark and I to hold hands and hug each other. I felt so wonderful when I was in his arms. We didn’t let go until the ride was at an end. When we came into the light, we were just sitting side by side, minding our own business; Brandon and Ethan were none the wiser about what we’d done. We were all ready for some lunch by then so we headed for Goblin Burger and ordered burgers, fries and drinks and ate them at a table in the open air. I loved sitting there talking with my friends as loads of kids walked by eating cotton candy and laughing. I could hear the roars and screams from The Poltergeist in the near distance. I loved the sound of it—much more than actually riding it, anyway. After a quick stop at a restroom that looked like an Egyptian tomb, we headed for The Splashing Specter. The line was pretty long, but eight people fit on one big, round raft so it didn’t take us all that long to get on. Mark, Brandon, Ethan, and I all got on a raft together, as well as four girls who were about our age. The girls were really looking us all over. One of them was making eyes at Mark big-time, and another was practically undressing Ethan with her eyes. The two others were flirting with Brandon and me. Each of them seemed to have picked out one of us. I had to bite
my tongue to stop myself from warning the girls that they were wasting their time with Mark and me. Our raft slowly floated away from the boarding dock, but quickly picked up speed once we hit the rushing water. In mere seconds, the side of the raft Mark and I was on made a big dip, and water just poured over us, drenching us completely (for the second time that day). Brandon had a big laugh at that, but just then he got dowsed, too. I amused myself by watching the girls watch Ethan after he got soaked. His shirt stuck to his chest, outlining his powerful pecs, and the girls were drooling over him. I bet Ethan got as many girls as he wanted with his sexy face and muscular body. I wondered how many times he’d already had sex? I bet it was plenty. Our raft passed right through a flooded graveyard, which was littered with coffins and even bodies floating around, just like Mark said. It was way cool, like something right out of an old Hollywood movie. The Splashing Specter was definitely my favorite ride of all. Our raft passed through what looked like a portcullis to a big old castle, and then we made a sharp turn through a flooded dungeon. There were skeletons in shackles and even torture devices half-submerged in the water. Dim torches lit the dungeon, casting eerie shadows across the stone walls. Mark and I even risked holding hands for a few moments, but we didn’t have much time. Before we knew it we were back in the light again.
I looked up and noticed that one of the girls was looking at us oddly; I’m sure she’d caught us holding hands. She didn’t say anything, but she kept looking at us—more out of cuiousity than anything else. I wonder if she guessed we were boyfriends. She’d been checking out Mark before, but once she caught us holding hands, she seemed intrigued by both of us. I prayed she wouldn’t say anything in front of Brandon or Ethan. We rushed through the churning waters, hitting turns that kept the raft slowly spinning. Water splashed into the raft as it dipped with the waves, and in less than a minute, we were all soaking wet. None of us minded. It was a hot day and it was refreshing to have water spraying on my face. At last, we rolled back up to the dock, and all too soon the ride came to an end. We split up again. The two girls that had been watching Brandon and Ethan the most went off with them. The other two stuck with Mark and me for a moment, but the girl that had caught us holding hands pulled her friend away. Before she did so, she whispered something to Mark, and his eyes grew wide with astonishment. “What did she tell you?” I asked suspiciously, as the girls went their own way. “She said, ‘You guys are really hot together’ and ‘Your boyfriend’s the cutest boy I’ve ever seen in my entire life.’” “Are you serious?” I said, blushing. He grinned. “Yep.”
“They don’t go to our school, do they?” I said, as a sense of panic started to seep in. “No, we’re safe. I guess we need to be more careful, though. A slip-up like that in front of the wrong person could get us in really deep shit.” “Yeah,” I replied, greatly relieved. I tried not to think about it too much. No harm was done, and I didn’t want to let it ruin such a fantastic day. I loved amusement parks and being there with Mark made it all the more enjoyable. “Hey, wanna go in the Chamber of Secrets?” asked Mark. “Yeah!” I said. I had no idea what it was, but it sounded spooky and cool. Mark led me along and soon we came to a skeleton holding a sign that read “Chamber of Secrets this way. Enter if you dare.” We followed the path and came to a huge stone arch that looked like the entrance to a castle or something, but it led only into darkness. Mark and I walked beyond the arch, and I suddenly cried out as the floor moved beneath us. I realized that we were on some kind of moving sidewalk, like an escalator, only flat. Mark giggled and I punched him in the shoulder. We were moving along in total blackness; Mark sought out my hand in the darkness and held it. It made me feel warm inside. A dim, red light became visible ahead. As we grew closer, we saw that we were in a tunnel that looked as if it were hewed out of solid rock. In some places it
looked like a natural cave, while in others it seemed more like an underground passage beneath a castle. The moving pathway carried us past beautiful stone formations and treasure chests filled with silver and gold. “This is so cool!” I said. “Yeah. I love it in here,” said Mark. I heard a clinking sound coming from up ahead. As we neared I could see dwarves mining the stone for precious metals. I knew they had to be some kind of animatronic robots or something, but they looked real. Some of them glared at us as we passed. Torches were on the walls now, lighting our way with flickering firelight. We passed more dwarves, as well as a beautiful underground waterfall lit up in a rainbow of colors. Bats occasionally flew above our heads, and the tunnel was as quiet as a tomb, except for the constant drip of water. I really felt like I was deep underground. The reddish light grew dimmer until there was just barely enough for us to see. I yelled as something reached for me. At first I thought it was Mark fooling around, but his hand was clasped in mine and whatever touched me came from the other side. I felt something brush me again and this time I saw it: gnarled hands were reaching out for us from both sides! Mark and I squeezed into the center of our moving pathway, but still they could reach us. Low guttural growls issued from the darkness and soon I could make out glowing yellow eyes peering at us.
Further down the moving path, the light gradually changed to green and I could see goblins on either side of the path. Some reached out to try to grab us, while others threatened us with short swords and clubs. They looked totally real, as if they had just stepped out of a sword and sorcery adventure! The path wound on, carrying us past one fascinating sight after another. It was kind of like exploring a cave, walking through a haunted house, and being inside a fantasy novel—all at the same time. “This is the coolest thing I’ve even seen in my entire life,” I told Mark. “Some of it reminds me of The Lord of the Rings.” “You’ve read it?” asked Mark. “Oh, yeah! I’m halfway through the second book. It’s my favorite story.” “Mine, too!” he said. “If you’ve liked it so far, just wait until you see what’s up ahead.” The hall’s greenish light gradually turned a sort of purple, then back to mostly red. It began to get much warmer and a thick grey fog surrounded us. Suddenly, there was a deafening roar. I held onto Mark tightly and jerked my head toward the noise. A spout of real flames erupted from the mouth of a giant dragon! The room was momentarily illuminated by the light of the fire, then it dimmed to a dull red-golden glow. I gazed at the dragon in amazement; it was about as big as I expected a real dragon would be, and was so real I was almost afraid it would leap up and attack us.
I smiled at Mark and he grinned back at me. We both stared at the dragon as the pathway slowly carried us along. Now the corridor was a vibrant green, with flashes of a reddish-gold light from the ancient creature. Steam—or rather smoke—wafted around it, and every few seconds it sent a blast of flame into the air, then moved its giant wings a bit and stretched its claws. I could swear I could even see it breathing. I was so entranced by the dragon that I almost didn’t notice the pile of treasure it was guarding. There was a mound of gold as big as a small hill—piles of coins, jeweled cups, diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and chests full of all sorts of treasure. For a moment I felt just like Bilbo Baggins when he beheld Smaug for the first time in The Hobbit. I’d thought The Chamber of Secrets was the coolest thing ever a few moments before, but now that I’d seen the dragon, it was definitely the highlight for me. We passed beyond the huge lizard and the light slowly dimmed back down again to total darkness. Mark grabbed me and hugged me tightly. I hugged him back right there on the moving pathway. It felt so good to be in his arms. We parted as the light began to grow again and we reached the end of the ride. “That was, without doubt, the most awesome thing I’ve ever experienced in my whole life!” I said, as we walked away. “Hugging, or the ride?” Mark whispered, mischievously.
“Both!” I’d have hugged him again then and there, but we were once again in the full light of day, surrounded by people of all ages having fun. Mark and I walked around the park, going on a ride now and then, and just generally enjoying each other’s company. We met up with Brandon and Ethan some, but were by ourselves most of the time. Mark and I explored The Chamber of Secrets two more times, rode The Splashing Specter once more, and The Phantom Falls three more times. Each time we were in the tunnel alone in The Phantom Falls and The Chamber of Secrets, we hugged and held hands. It was romantic and wonderful. If I could’ve worked up the courage, I would’ve kissed Mark, but I just couldn’t do it—not yet. Before we left, Mark and I found this little booth where they made key chains and stuff. We found a pair that formed a heart when they were put together. Mark bought them and had our names inscribed on them. He kept the one that said “Taylor” and gave me the one that said, “Mark.” I know that we’ll keep them with us, forever.
Act 2
Living a Lie
Scene 1
A New Life and New Troubles
Mark Tay and I went to a pep rally/hay ride at school that night, after we got back from Halloween World. We stuck to each other like glue. We didn’t actually touch; that would’ve been much too risky. We couldn’t afford to be caught like we were by that girl at the amusement park. We couldn’t hold hands or hug, but we were together every minute. Our teammates had come to expect us to be with each other. They already knew we were close buds, but nobody knew how close we were... at least I hoped no one suspected. The fear of such suspicion had been playing on my mind more with each passing day. I didn’t have a girlfriend, and I was so tight with Taylor , I was practically in his pocket. How long would Tay and I be able to avoid suspicion? I lived in fear of being found out. I tried not to think about it or let it ruin my fun with Tay. But the fear was always there, lurking on the edge of my mind. Andrea and her whole crowd were gathered around the large bonfire. As soon as Tay and I stepped into the glow of the flames, they were all over us. They flirted with us continuously. Andrea had been after my ass since grade school, but that evening she seemed more interested in Taylor, at least for the moment. She had a tendency to switch off onto other guys for awhile, which always gave me a sense of relief. She never failed to work her way back to me, however. I’d given
her the ‘our friendship’s too valuable to risk it by dating’ line on more than one occasion. That generally kept her at bay for at least a few weeks. She always came back, however, and it was getting harder and harder to put her off. Andrea wasn’t a problem for me at the bonfire. She was practically drooling over Taylor, and who could blame her? He was cute, athletic, sexy, and just plain hot. Andrea wasn’t alone in her admiration for him, either. Taylor was surrounded by girls hanging on his every word—a whole flock of them, giggling at anything we said and gazing at us both with desire. Every so often, Tay glanced helplessly at me and smiled wanly. In a way, it was pretty funny that the girls were so hot after us. I mean... talk about wasting time! I almost felt bad for them, but hey—there were plenty of guys around that’d be more than interested. Our followers would move on to some other hot hunks sooner or later. Most girls figured out I wasn’t interested after awhile, and went in search of easier prey, but Andrea never seemed to entirely give up. She’d leave for a while, but she was always back to try yet again. To be honest, I kinda liked the attention. It made me feel pretty good about myself that girls were hanging all over me, even if I wasn’t interested in them. Just about any guy likes to be admired and have girls compliment him and stuff. I didn’t even mind when they were touching me, either; in fact, it kinda made me feel hot! If that’s as far as it went, having an admiring harem
would have been cool, but sooner or later I was expected to choose one. That wasn’t going to happen; I just wasn’t interested in girls. What would everyone think about that? I couldn’t have cared less if someone didn’t like my hair, my clothes, my music, or whatever. But the possibility of others catching onto the fact that I was gay was quite another matter. I had to protect myself and Tay. No guy in his right mind would turn down Andrea or any of her friends. Those babes were the finest girls in school, and they were hot after Tay and had been trailing me for a long time. It was only a matter of time before some of the guys wondered what was up. It just wasn’t natural for a teenaged boy to turn down an opportunity like that. Andrea in particular had a reputation. I don’t mean she was a slut or anything, but if she really liked a guy, she’d have sex with him. How many teenaged boys do you know who would turn that down? A couple of the players on my team had already ribbed me about not dating. One even asked me, “What, are you gay or something?” He was just kidding around, but I wondered how long would it be before someone seriously asked me that question. I’d been worried about arousing suspicions for some time. Hanging out with Taylor only intensified the danger. Tay and I piled onto a hay wagon with our following of girls and a few guys from our team. There were a lot of couples, but also just a lot of kids hanging out. I sat right by Tay. Andrea sat on his right side, and Jennifer,
a cute little blonde tennis player, cuddled up close to me on my left. I wasn’t happy at all about having Jennifer next to me; she was getting almost as bad as Andrea. I felt a little like a cornered beast. Andrea and Jennifer were both getting a little aggressive. Andrea was touching Tay all the time and Jennifer grasped my arm and wouldn’t let go. She even started feeling my biceps and asked if I worked out. Geesh! Any other guy would’ve been thrilled, but I found it awkward. Jennifer actually started feeling my chest through my shirt. I was about to push her hand away when I saw Devon looking at me curiously. What guy would push away a hot blonde babe when she was after his bod? Instead of pushing her away, I let her hands wander. I started flirting with her, putting on a little show for Devon and whoever else might be watching. I rolled up my sleeve and flexed while she ran her hand over my hard biceps. I leaned over and nuzzled against her for a moment. It was a mistake—I knew immediately that I’d fucked up by encouraging her. Before I knew what was happening, she grabbed me by the back of the head, pressed her lips hard against mine, and slipped her tongue into my mouth. I broke off the kiss as quickly as I could without looking like I was trying to shove her away. I started to panic; the situation was definitely getting out of hand. I was in a real spot, but what could I do about it? I still couldn’t push her away, but I also couldn’t let her think she was a potential girlfriend.
Otherwise, the next thing I knew, she’d be wanting my class ring. I had to put a stop to what was going on. Devon was still eying me and Jennifer, although he looked away anytime I glanced in his direction, and a couple of other guys were checking out the action, too. No, I couldn’t just push her away. But what could I do? I got an idea. I guided Jennifer’s hand back onto my chest, pulled up my shirt a little, then guided her fingertips down over my tight abs. She seemed to like that. I noticed that Devon and a few of my other teammates were watching harder than ever (while pretending even more that they weren’t). I pushed Jennifer’s hand lower and lower as I gazed into her eyes. I guided it over my belt buckle and right onto the bulge in my jeans. I was rock-hard—even though it didn’t have anything to do with Jennifer, but she didn't know that. Pressing her hand against the lump in my groin had the desired effect almost instantly. “Mark!” she gasped, pulling her hand away as if it touched a hot stove. “What are you doing?” I looked at her embarrassed. I wasn’t acting; I really was embarrassed. The snickers from the guys around us didn’t help. I couldn’t believe I’d really put her hand on my bulge. It just wasn’t me, but at least my plan worked. After a momentary flair of temper, Jennifer cooled down. I was disappointed that she didn’t leave me, but at least she wasn’t quite as free with her hands. She contented herself with just sitting pressed up against me. I was pretty sure I could’ve had her if
I’d played my cards right—if that’s what I’d wanted. I’d gambled that she’d pull back if I pushed her too fast. I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d been wrong! Devon and the guys who had been watching were snickering. They thought it was funny as hell. I could tell even Tay was struggling not to laugh. After a few moments, the guys couldn’t control themselves and lost it. They tried to disguise their laughter by pretending they were laughing about something else, and Jennifer seemed to buy it, but a knowing grin from Devon told the real story. I didn’t mind that I’d made myself look foolish. At least I’d scored a few points with the guys, putting on a little act that made them think I wanted a girl in my pants. Every little bit helped. They were laughing at me, but at the same time, I know what I did impressed the hell out of them. It was getting a little chilly, so all four of us burrowed deeper into the hay. We were more hidden than exposed and it was kind of cozy in there. Tay’s warm body pressed up next to mine filled me with warmth and contentment. My hand sought out his under the hay and soon our fingers were intertwined. He gave me a little squeeze and we sat there holding hands while the girls flirted with us. Jennifer had backed off quite a bit and I thought I was safe, but then I felt a wave of panic as her hand creept back to the very location she had so protested about earlier. Her hand was on my inner thigh, drawing ever closer to my manhood. Shit! My plan hadn’t
worked at all! Her reaction before was just an act for those around us. Was everyone just playing a part? Under the cover of the hay, her hands were beginning to wander and I didn’t like where they were going. Jennifer’s actions weren’t quite as hidden as she thought. Some of my teammates knew what she was up to, probably because they’d dated her before. I noticed some of them looking on with approval; Devon actually gave me the thumbs up and a wink when Jennifer wasn’t looking. Ryan, our goalie, wiggled his eyebrows in an obvious “Way to go stud!” expression. I sighed; there was nothing to do but play it up. Tay was actually kissing Andrea beside me. He sure as hell looked like he wanted to get into her pants. What the hell; I put my arm around Jennifer and pulled her close. For all the guys knew, Tay and I were both as interested in scoring with girls as they were. The only problem was, it looked like both Taylor and I were about to succeed! Jennifer was all over me, my little stunt before had the opposite of the desired effect. I thought I’d been so smart, but instead I’d put myself in a real spot. Jennifer didn’t want to be a slut in public, but I was quickly getting the feeling she really was one in private. She would’ve been another guy’s dream come true. The rumors around school were that she was pretty damned easy, but I hadn’t believed it until she was all over me! She ran her soft hand up under my shirt and felt my bare chest, massaging my pecs. As the hay wagon
rolled on, she inched her hand lower and lower, finally sliding it right over my abs and back down onto the bulge below. We were back to square one. I didn’t want to push her away, but I didn’t want to encourage her either. I had tried that before and it backfired on me. What was happening between us wasn’t going anywhere, but I had to at least act interested. What guy would discourage a girl when she was feeling him, there? One wrong move, and I was sure the other guys would have me figured out in a flash. I glanced to my right. Tay was having similar problems with Andrea—she couldn’t keep her hands to herself, either. I didn’t blame her. I had trouble controlling myself around Tay, too. Hell, he was the reason I was excited, although I’m sure Jennifer thought it was she that was causing the sudden expansion in my jeans. I surrepticiously squeezed Tay’s hand under the hay again, and he squeezed back. There was no doubt that Andrea was trying to get into Tay’s pants the same way Jennifer was attempting to get into mine. The country trail grew darker as we made our way down a long line of trees. Jennifer noiselessly unfastened my belt and unzipped my jeans. My heart was pounding so hard, I was sure anybody within three feet could hear it. Things were going way, way too far, too fast. Suddenly, Jennifer slipped her hand into my boxers. After the initial shock, what she was doing with her hand felt real good, even though I felt guilty for liking it, as if I was cheating on Tay or something.
It wasn’t like I had a choice, however. My friends were watching. They knew what was going on under the hay. I couldn’t make her stop. Mmmm, it did feel good. Jennifer’s experienced hand began a slow rhythm... up and down, up and down. She might be a girl, but it didn’t matter when she was touching me like that. I started breathing a little harder. Jennifer’s tight grip was driving me out of my mind. No one had ever touched me like that before. I had to fight hard to keep quiet and to keep still. Jennifer gazed deep into my eyes with a wicked, mischievous look. I know she thought no one around us had a clue as to what she was doing, but one quick glance told me that Devon, Ryan, and several of the others were watching us as if we were putting on a sex show. What she was doing felt incredible, but at the same time I felt kind of violated, almost like I was being raped or something. Sure, I could have made her stop at any time, but I had to avoid suspicion. There was no way out. I tried to force the pleasure from my mind; I didn’t want to like it. It made me feel like I was betraying Taylor, and that was the worst feeling in all the world. Lightning flashes of pleasure were going off in my groin. I couldn’t take it any more. Jennifer was driving me crazy. My eyes rolled back into my head and I moaned softly. I hadn’t felt anything that incredible in a long, long time. It was so much better than when I did it myself. It seemed ten times more powerful and
intense. A wave of pleasure surged through my entire body, and I spasmed once, twice, three times. It was all I could do not to cry out; I bit my lower lip hard to stay quiet. I sat there for a moment or two with my eyes closed, listening to the gentle clop-clop of the horses’ hooves on the road. Finally, I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. The guys were staring at me, wide-eyed. Devon was actually snickering; he knew exactly what was going on. I knew that on Monday morning, I’d be hearing a lot in the halls about Jennifer getting me off. All the guys would be talking about it. I sighed. Well, at least that much good would come of it. I hated what had happened, but at least it’d help camouflage my relationship with Taylor. The release of sexual tension felt awesome, but as soon as I was finished, I felt this great wave of guilt wash over me. I felt like I’d sacrificed myself to hide my secret—mine and Taylor’s. I’d done something I didn’t want to do, just to hide a love I wished I could share with the world. I felt so used, and so guilty—but then again, was there really any way for me to get out of what had just happened? No matter how I turned the situation over in my mind, there was no solution. After all, it wasn’t like I’d tried to get Jennifer to give me a hand-job; it was all her idea. Still, I felt guilty as hell about the whole thing, especially since it had felt so damned good. Mercifully, the hay wagon stopped. The ride was over. If only it could’ve ended a few minutes earlier! I
quickly zipped up my jeans and re-fastened my belt. The only good thing about the whole incident was that Devon, Ryan, and a couple others had witnessed the whole thing, which would buy me a little protection. I kept repeating that to myself, trying to make myself feel better about the whole thing. It didn’t help much. Jennifer pulled me to the side as we slipped off the wagon. “Mark,” she whispered, “would you like to go somewhere more... y’know, private?” I gulped. Every other boy’s dream was suddenly my nightmare. Jennifer wanted me and wanted me bad. What had happened in the wagon was only the beginning. My mind raced for a way out. “Jennifer, you know I’d like to. What guy wouldn’t? But...” “But what?” she pouted. Shit! I was wondering ‘but what?’ too. Dammit... what was I gonna do? I had to come up with something, fast. “No one knows it yet,” I said, with all the sincerity I could muster, “but I’m kinda seeing someone.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t exactly the truth either. “Who?” she demanded. “I can’t tell you.” Now that was the truth! “Who is she?” I sighed and made a helpless gesture. “Sorry, Jennifer. I just can’t tell.”
“You bastard!” she snapped. “You used me! All you guys just want the same thing! Why didn’t you tell me?” Suddenly we had everyone’s attention. Just what I didn’t want. I wished I could just turn invisible. Jennifer was yelling at me and everyone was looking at us. I thought Jennifer was being pretty hypocritical. I mean, she was the one that worked her hands into my pants. She was the one who wanted exactly what she accused me of being after! Hell, if I hadn’t turned her down, I bet she would’ve done anything I wanted— anything. “C’mon, Jennifer,” I protested. “What was I supposed to do? You were all over me!” I was getting angry. Her whole attitude was pissing me off. I felt like she’d used me. “Fuck you, Mark!” Jennifer slapped my face hard. Everyone watched as she stomped off in a huff. I couldn’t tell if she was pissed because I’d let her do what she did, or because she wasn’t going to get to do any more, or both. At least she was gone. Once the show was over, everyone went back to their business. I knew they were all talking about me. It was attention I didn’t need. Taylor had managed to disentangle himself from Andrea with far more grace. At least he hadn’t created a major scene. At any rate, he was walking toward me
alone. We quietly slipped away from the crowd. We didn’t speak until we were well out of earshot. “I really handled that well!” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “Well,” Taylor said, grinning, “at least I don’t think she’ll be after you anymore.” “No shit!” Taylor laughed. “What did you tell Andrea?” I asked in a low voice. “I just told her you were my boyfriend.” He said it so seriously that I actually believed him for a moment. I was shocked. The color drained from my face and my mouth was hanging open. Tay immediately burst out laughing. “Arggggh!” I growled and lightly punched him in the stomach. “Don’t do that! You scared the shit out of me!” That just made Taylor laugh more. He really had frightened me; my heart was still pounding in my chest. I finally burst out laughing, too, in sheer relief. Tay and I walked along the same forest path I’d followed the night we met. The cross-country team used those paths for practice, but on a Saturday night they were devoid of life. There were no girls, no teammates; we could be totally alone. At least I hoped so. But if we came there for privacy, might not another couple do the same?
“What are we gonna do about this?” I asked seriously. “We can’t keep pushing girls away without arousing suspicions.” “You didn’t exactly look like you were pushing Jennifer away,” said Tay. It was dark, but he could still see the look of guilt on my face. I told him what had happened, hoping he’d forgive me. His eyes were filled with understanding, and compassion. “Hey, Mark, I know. I was sitting right beside you, remember? We were so close she was practically in my pants, too! Listen, I didn’t like what happened, but what could you do—punch her in the face or something? Forget about it. It’s over. It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head. “I just don’t want to hurt you, Taylor. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I...” I felt so bad that I was on the verge of tears. Taylor grasped my chin and pulled my face up so he could look into my eyes. “I know, Mark,” he said softly. “And you didn’t—okay?” I nodded. “I love you, Taylor.” His understanding made me feel so good inside. “I love you too, Mark.” We stood there for a moment, then walked on. “What are we gonna do about this? Everyone’s bound to get suspicious, and I don’t want to go through another night like this one again.”
“I don’t know, Mark. I’ve been thinking the same thing,” said Tay. “Did you see Jennifer on me? Right before she slapped me, she asked me to take her somewhere ‘private.’ She didn’t come right out and say it, but I think she was gonna blow me. Either that, or she wanted to fuck.” “Really?” said Tay. “Of course, after doing what she’d already done, I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. Andrea wanted me to take her out by the bleachers. I don’t think she had anything quite that involved in mind, but still...” I glanced around as we walked; luckily, we were still alone. “You know, word’s gonna get around that we didn’t do anything with them,” I said. “Well, that we didn’t do anything more than we did anyway.” “I know.” I sighed. “Shit, the guys have already been on my case. Now they’re gonna wonder what’s going on. I mean, no guy would turn down Jennifer unless...” “...he’s gay,” Tay finished for me. I nodded. “You know the guys were watching us on the hay-ride. Devon even gave me a thumbs up! I guess I kinda blew that, turning down Jennifer right in front of him.” “At least we put on a good act, even if we didn’t take it as far as we could have.” “If only we could keep up that act,” I said.
Taylor paused, clearly turning something over in his mind. We both stopped on the path. “Why not?” he asked. “Huh?” I didn’t quite understand. “Why can’t we keep up the act? We could date girls so no one would suspect us, and still see each other on the sly.” “Tay, Jennifer was all over me,” I said, exasperated. “There’s no way I could date her! If I act like she’s my girlfriend, I’ll have to really have sex with her. I’m positive if it came to that, I’d never be able to get it up, and she’d figure me out for sure. And I don’t think you’ll be able to keep Andrea at bay long, either. That girl has it bad for you.” “I didn’t mean those two!” said Tay. “We need nice girls—you know, ones that aren’t about to go any further than making out without some major commitment. We need girls who don’t put out.” I winced. “I don’t know if I’d feel right about that,” I said. “I mean, I’d feel like some kinda tease.” “Just don’t promise anything you can’t deliver. It’s simple: we take them out, show ‘em a good time, have fun. We pay attention to them at school, hold hands with them, that sort of thing. We even make out with them a little, but that’s all. Before it gets real serious, we can cool things down... break up even. No one’ll get hurt.” I had doubts, but I pushed them from my mind.
“I guess so,” I said, musing it over. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt. I mean, we’d at least be showing them a good time.” “Yeah, and we can double-date and still be together at the same time. It’s the perfect cover! We can see each other a lot with our girls, and still spend time alone with each other.” “We’re alone now,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. As important as our discussion was, I had other things on my mind. Tay stopped and smiled at me sweetly. We looked at each other in the pale blue moonlight. Tay was so handsome, with his beautiful blond hair flowing down over his blue and white shirt. Tay always looked good in that shirt, but then he looked great no matter what he wore. I had no doubt he’d look even better wearing nothing at all. I wrapped my arms around him and drew him close. His strong arms pulled me hard against him. I could feel his warmth, feel his chest rise and fall, feel his heart beating. I nuzzled against his neck, drinking in the delicate scent of his hair and his cologne. I sighed, completely relaxed. We just stood there hugging each other for a few moments on the dark forest path. It was one of those moments that I wished could last forever. I leaned back and gazed into Taylor’s piercing eyes, which sparkled with the light of a thousand stars. We inched forward, our faces drawing ever so slowly closer, our eyes gazing at each other dreamily. Time had no meaning; the moments stretched into eternity.
My lips neared his for minutes, hours, ages. Taylor was my whole world, and I his. This was it: this was love. I pressed my lips to his and we kissed, delicately, then more deeply. It was our first kiss and one that will remain forever etched in my mind. We dared not stay alone in the woods for long. We’d been gone too long already and soon suspicions would arise. I hoped no one had seen us slip away. I could just imagine the rumors after that. Everyone would be talking about how I turned Jennifer down, then slipped into the woods with Taylor. I winced at the thought— yeah, that’d be real pleasant. Reluctantly, our lips finally parted, we broke our embrace, and headed back toward the bonfire, hand in hand. I could still taste Taylor’s sweet kiss. My mind was filled with his presence. Warmth flowed through our clasped hands. Simply touching him, having him near, brought me a contentment that was beyond description. I couldn’t think of anything more wonderful than being in love. Only when we drew near the light did I finally release Taylor’s hand. His mere touch filled my heart with bliss.
Taylor Despite the problems that faced us, I couldn’t help but be happy. Never before in my life had I found someone—someone who loved me. As we walked back toward the bonfire, hand in hand, I thought of the one time before in my life when I thought I was on the verge of such happiness. It didn’t come then, but for a brief time, I thought it would. I was just barely thirteen when I developed a crush on Robbie Satterfield. He had black hair and a dark tan, and I thought he was beautiful. All the girls had a thing for Robbie, and so did I. Robbie loved baseball and was on the middle school team. I wasn’t all that much into baseball; even back then, I was a soccer boy. Robbie liked to play catch, and I was always willing, just to be near him. The summer I fell for him, we played catch almost continuously in his back yard. He was forever wearing the same cut-off blue jean shorts and no shirt. Robbie looked real good without a shirt. Where I was just skinny, he had muscles. I lay in bed most nights dreaming about Robbie, with his shirt off. Robbie also wore his baseball cap all the time— backwards, of course—which made him look cuter than ever. He never took that cap off. Even in school, he only pulled it off when the teachers made him, and during the summer it never left his head. I used to
wonder if he wore it taking a bath. I sure would’ve liked to have seen for myself. Robbie thought I was pretty cool. I wasn’t the best at baseball, but then we never actually played. All we did was toss the ball back and forth, sometimes throwing it as hard as we could up into the air. I was good at both pitching and catching, so I was cool in Robbie’s eyes. Robbie didn’t know it, but I’d had my dad teach me to play catch the very first time I found out Robbie was on the baseball team. Robbie and I hung out a lot. Usually, we were with other guys, but quite a bit of the time it was just the two of us. Even though I was just thirteen, I had sex on my mind all the time. In fact, back then, I thought a lot more about sex than I did about having someone to love. I guess that was natural. My hormones were raging and I was constantly aroused; it hardly took anything to get me going. At the time, I was naïve and I didn’t give any thought to the fact that I was attracted to another boy. I knew so little about sex that I guess I thought it was the way things were supposed to be. Sure, I’d heard words like “fag” and “fairy,” but I didn’t really know what they meant—I never knew they applied to boys like me. Maybe ignorance is bliss. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to do with Robbie. I just had this vague notion that I wanted to be in bed with him naked. I pictured us rubbing up against each other, kind of like when we wrestled. Robbie always got hard when we wrestled, as did I, so maybe that’s
why I associated it with sex. Anyway, that’s what I thought of when I got excited—that and kissing him. Robbie and I snuck out one night and met each other at a prearranged rendezvous. We were going to pretend we were spies slipping behind enemy lines late at night. We had a blast running from tree to tree along a path in the park. It all seemed so much bigger and more mysterious in the dead of night. There was also something forbidden about being out with Robbie in the dark. If my parents had known I was out, I would’ve been in big trouble. My hormones were working overtime that night. I wanted Robbie bad; I desperately wanted us to get naked and lay on top of each other. I was a little horndog. After we’d played a long time, we stood on the path together talking. We were discussing how to slip by enemy sentries, but I was thinking about kissing Robbie. We stood close, facing each other, and the blue light of the moon was shining on Robbie’s cute face. I inched in closer and closer, all ready to kiss him, my heart pounding with desire. When my lips were just about to touch his, he pushed me away roughly and told me to quit kidding around. I tried to make a joke out of it, but I was devastated. I really thought he’d asked me to meet him that night so we could do something at last, so we could kiss in the dark. He didn’t want that at all, however. Robbie just wanted to play spies. I felt like crying. I didn’t understand why he didn’t want me. My attraction to him was mainly physical, but I was hurt. Playing spies
wasn’t fun after that; neither was playing catch, either. I didn’t see Robbie much after that night. He didn’t want me and I didn’t like being around him anymore. In my mind, what I wanted from him was physical, but I guess what I really wanted—without even realizing it then—was love. Not being loved hurt more than anything. I looked at Mark and smiled. I was so lucky to have him. I stopped and kissed him once more. Just like that night with me and Robbie, we were on a path in the woods, in the dark of night, with only the moon lighting our way. But Mark loved me with all his heart, and I loved him. I was so happy I felt like I could walk on air.
Scene 2
Web of Deceit
Mark At last Taylor and I had a plan that would protect us, and I already had a couple of girls in mind. Even before we reached the bonfire, I discussed the possibilities with Tay. When we arrived, his girl was there, as was mine. I gently pushed Tay in the direction of his future “girlfriend” and headed for mine before Jennifer could locate me and attach herself. She’d left me in a huff, but I had the feeling she’d be back. I felt just a little guilty as I approached Laura; after all, my intentions weren’t exactly pure. But then again, were the intentions of any sixteen year old boy toward a girl pure? Most boys my age would’ve been hot after the very thing I sought to avoid. Wouldn’t most girls be thrilled with a handsome young man who’d pay attention to her, tell her how beautiful she was, buy her gifts, and show her a good time—all without pressuring her for sex? Perhaps what I was offering was exactly what Laura needed. Still, there was this little bit of guilt in the pit of my stomach that just wouldn’t go away. I knew in my heart that what I was doing was wrong. No matter how pleasant I intended to make the lie, it was just that, a lie. I could never be the kind of boyfriend that girls dreamed about; it just wasn’t possible. I pushed my doubts and guilt to the side and forged ahead. It was a matter of self-preservation. Taylor and I had to avoid
suspicion, and taking on fake girlfriends was the only way to do it. There was just no other way. Laura was standing with a couple of friends. She eyed me shyly as I approached. I could read excitement and a touch of admiration in her eyes, just like at the dance. She lit up as I neared. She had the look of someone who had within her grasp what she’d always wanted, and yet feared that it would slip away. I realized how badly I could hurt her if I wasn’t careful, and it scared me. Having that kind of responsibility over another person’s life was frightening. Along with the guilt, there were butterflies in my stomach. I had to fight to keep my voice even. “Laura?” I inquired as sweetly as I could, making it plain that something was on my mind. I hadn’t paid much attention to her at the dance. I wanted her to think that it was because I was shy, not because I wasn’t interested. I wanted her to believe that it had taken me a few days to work up the courage to approach her. “Mark, hi,” she said, turning from her friends. The girls nearby watched our exchange intently. I felt like I was acting in a play before an audience, and I guess I was in a way. I nervously pushed the hair out of my eyes. “Uh, hi,” I said, in my best ‘shy and casual’ voice. Laura was kind of shy, for real, and she was obviously excited that I was paying attention to her. She’d seemed a lot more outgoing at the dance, when she’d been staring at me from a distance. I guess it was
harder for her with me standing right there talking to her. “There’s a dance tomorrow night,” I said. “I was wondering if you’d like to go with me?” Asking her out wasn’t easy. I was so nervous. I guess all guys felt that way when they asked out a girl. She smiled brightly, and her eyes looked beautiful under the moonlight. “I’d like that, Mark.” I nodded. “Tomorrow, then—say, seven?” “Sure.” I almost left without getting her address—duh! I wasn’t good at interacting with a girl at all. I heard Laura and her girlfriends start chatting as soon as they thought I was out of ear-shot. All I caught was “He’s so cute!” For a moment, I felt real good about myself, but then reality set in, and I felt wicked and deceitful. No, I didn’t feel good about what I was doing at all. I glanced across to another group of kids by the bonfire and momentarily locked eyes with Jennifer, then looked away. Jennifer had seen what went on, and she definitely looked pissed. I don’t think she heard what Laura and I said, but she might’ve suspected that I lied to her when I told her I was seeing someone else. Of course, I wasn’t really lying. I was seeing Taylor, but she’d think it was a lie all the same if she discovered I’d just asked out Laura. Either way, she was mad as hell. It was probably just as well; maybe it’d get her off me once and for all. If she thought I was a jerk, it might finally break the spell that seemed to
attract her to me. Maybe she’d tell Andrea, too, and I could be rid of her as well. I couldn’t help but feel awkward about the whole situation. What was I getting myself into? What a tangled web of deception and deceit Taylor and I were weaving. Fake girlfriends, a secret affair, and who knew what was to come. And yet, we had little choice in the matter. Our parents, our friends... hell, most of the world would have disowned us if the truth got out. For all the talk of acceptance and understanding, there was still so much prejudice and hate out there. What kind of world was it where loving a member of your own sex was treated like such a crime? Why couldn’t everyone understand that love was a wonderful thing, no matter who loved who? Some of my classmates even believed that homosexuals went straight to hell. Now what kind of thinking was that? Go to hell for caring about someone, for loving someone? I don’t think so! Despite being coerced into deceit by a cold-hearted world, I didn’t feel good about it. I had never liked the idea of lying. Sure, I told my mom her new hair style looked great sometimes when I didn’t think it did, or I told one of my friends his new record was cool when I didn’t really care that much for it, but basically I was an honest person. Besides, lying required a sharp memory. I had enough trouble remembering everything that really did happen. I didn’t need the hassle of remembering something fictional. Lies had a way of building on themselves, too. It usually took one
lie to cover up the first, then another, and another, until pretty soon there was nothing but lies. I didn’t like what Tay and I were forced into doing at all, but there was nothing to do but make the best of it.
Taylor I couldn’t believe I had the courage to ask Stephanie out. I found it even harder to believe that she said “yes” so quickly. I’d never asked a girl out before and I succeeded on my very first try! Even though girls looked at me sometimes, I didn’t really think I was the kind of guy that most girls went for. I was too quiet, too sensitive, and didn’t have the rugged, masculine look that got most girls excited. I’d even had guys tell me that I looked like a girl myself, and I didn’t like that at all. It made me feel like no girl would ever be interested in me. That shouldn’t have mattered, since I wasn’t really attracted to girls, but, for some reason, it bothered me. I don’t know why, but I let things like that get to me when they really didn’t matter at all. I didn’t dwell on Stephanie. I thought instead of Mark. He’d kissed me, and it was the most wonderful thing ever. I could remember the moment that his lips touched mine, as if it were still happening. If I lived to be a hundred, I knew I’ll still remember it just the same. Kissing Mark made me feel so loved, so accepted, so cared for. It was as if I’d received something that I’d been missing my whole life. My mind lingered on the moment when our mouths had opened and Mark had gently slipped his tongue between my lips. I’d found myself doing the same, and it made me feel as if I were a part of him, and he were
part of me. It set my entire body on fire with desire. I wondered if Mark had noticed how excited it made me; I’d felt as if my shorts were going to rip from the strain. Just at the memory, I felt the familiar throbbing from my groin. I needed to shift my thoughts before I got home. The last thing I wanted was for my parents to see me with a big bulge in my shorts! I’d totally die of embarrassment if that happened... It had been the best day and night of my life, but after I got home that night, Dad did his best to ruin it. He didn’t do it intentionally, but right as I walked in I heard him saying things I didn’t like at all. “He’s a queer. I know he is.” I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart pounding like a hammer. For a moment, I thought he was talking about me. “Who’s that, honey?” Apparently Mom was paying about as much attention to Dad as she always did, which wasn’t a lot. “This guy trying to play football for Purdue. Why did they even let him on the team? Oh, for Christ’s sake, go after the ball!” he bellowed at the TV screen. “God, the faggots are ruining everything, even football. They oughta just take all those little pansies out and shoot them.” Dad often had conversations about what he didn’t like on television—sometimes with Mom, sometimes with me, and sometimes with the TV set. He was always on about something and, more often than not, he
was complaining about queers. It made me feel like hiding in my closet; I guess I was in a way. I knew it wasn’t safe to breathe a word about myself to my parents. If my dad even guessed I was gay, he’d probably beat me senseless, or toss me out of the house. I always felt like my dad didn’t approve of me. He wasn’t even all that happy with me playing soccer. He wanted me to play football “like a real man.” I was just lucky I was able to start out in soccer way before I could’ve started in football, or otherwise I just knew he would’ve tried to force me into football. He was going to try it when I was in the sixth grade, but luckily my soccer team was kicking ass that year, so he didn’t make me switch. He had too much fun bragging to his friends about his son’s team beating everyone in sight. If we’d been losing, I’d have been wearing shoulder pads from then on for sure. Dad just looked at me and grunted as I passed. His gaze lingered on my hair for a few moments, but thankfully he didn’t say anything about it. He was always ragging on me to get it cut. He’d even told me I looked like a girl. I tried not to let him know that hurt me. How was I supposed to feel when my own father told me crap like that? Mom stood up for me any time Dad complained about my hair, and insisted that it looked cute. She was probably the reason I got to keep it long, but I still didn’t like her interfering. For one thing, I didn’t like her calling me cute. For another, I felt like my mom was fighting my battles for me, which was
embarrassing. I could’ve avoided the situation by getting my hair cut, but I liked it long. I felt like it was my trademark. I had no plans for getting it cut, ever. I retreated to my room and shut the door on my parents and the way they made me feel. I lay back on the bed, put my hands behind my head, and thought about Mark. He loved me. I almost couldn’t believe it. He actually loved me. He was so strong and confident and brave. I almost couldn’t believe he’d want a guy like me, or even that he’d want any guy. Boys like Mark were usually girl-crazy. I’d never even let myself dream before that someone like him would be into guys. I didn’t try to analyze it; I just wanted to enjoy it. I sighed and smiled to myself. For the first time ever, I had a boyfriend, and he was more handsome and strong and wonderful than I’d ever hoped. It finally looked like I wouldn’t die a virgin as I’d feared, either. We’d already kissed and, without doubt, there was more to come. I sure wanted more. There were times when I had to fight myself to keep from ripping Mark’s shirt right off. His muscular chest absolutely drove me crazy. Yum. I was almost surprised at my own thoughts. I’m sure anyone else would’ve been. Maybe what they said about the shy ones was true—maybe they really were wild. I was sure feeling pretty wild, and I definitely wanted to do wild things with Mark—the sooner the better. If I could work up the courage, something would happen between us soon. If I couldn’t, then I’d
wait for Mark to make a move and I’d make sure he knew I wanted him to keep on going. For the immediate future, I’d content myself with a hug now and then, and an all-too-rare kiss. Even that was more wonderful than anything I’d ever imagined before. Even so, I couldn’t wait until the day that Mark and I could be together at last.
Mark I was a little taken aback, and momentarily hurt, when Laura and I stepped into the gym. Taylor and his girl, Stephanie, were already on the dance floor. It was a slow dance and Tay was holding Steph as close as could be. He was smiling at her, laughing, and clearly enjoying himself. I was actually jealous for a moment, but then I came to my senses. I smiled to myself when I realized that maybe the whole girlfriend act would work. Hell, it’d even fooled me for a moment. I took Laura’s hand and smiled at her. “Care to dance?” I asked. She laughed sweetly and let me pull her onto the dance floor. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. She nuzzled up against my neck as we danced and told me how kind and thoughtful I was. I winced inside; her compliments tore at me like a barb in my flesh. I was glad she couldn’t see my face, because I have no doubt it was covered with shame and remorse. I pushed the guilt out of my mind and struggled to smile at her, not for the last time. Despite the feeling of guilt in my gut, after a few minutes, I started to actually have some fun dancing to the music. It was almost as if the music and I were one and the same; I felt like I was inside it, or it was inside of me—that I was a part of it, or it a part of me. I loved
the feel of my own body as I danced in rhythm with the music. I’d always felt the most in touch with myself while I was doing something physical. It was as if my mind needed my body to think, like I felt and thought with my muscles. When I walked, my thoughts followed a path just like my feet. When I ran, my thoughts raced along with me. Now, as I was dancing with Laura, my mind intermixed with the world around me. Laura and I moved around the dance floor—now fast, now slow. We were surrounded by friends and classmates, as if my whole world were in the gym. I guess it was my whole world, at least the world that I knew. Sure, other places existed; I’d visited many of them, but Verona, Indiana was still pretty much my entire world. I looked around me and took it all in at a glance. My world hadn’t looked so beautiful in quite a long time. As much as I enjoyed dancing with Laura, I couldn’t keep my eyes off Taylor, who was dancing just three couples away from us. I wasn’t jealous, even though he seemed to be having an awesome time. I kept gazing at him, thinking how wonderful he was and how lucky I was that he was my boy. I’d dreamed of having someone to love, and someone to love me in return. Now I’d been granted that, and more. Looks didn’t really matter all that much to me, but Taylor was the most beautiful boy in the world. Well, yes... looks mattered, but there were other things far more important. I would have been happy with a kind,
ordinary guy, but I’d been given someone not only as wonderful as could be, but incredibly handsome as well. I couldn’t believe my good luck—at last, things were going my way. Taylor and I were going through a lot to be together, but it was worth it. My friends on the team danced around me, holding their girls tight. For the first time, I felt like I belonged. I didn’t feel like an outsider watching life from afar, or like a vampire hiding from the light of day. For once, I felt like just one of the guys. Still, I knew it was but an illusion. I knew that I was indeed a vampire. But was there really that much difference between fantasy and reality? Five hundred years ago, a lot of people thought the world was flat. That was a fantasy, but yet many lived out their lives in that fantasy without ever even questioning it. Who knew how much of what we accepted as reality today would be shown to be mere fantasy in the future? Perhaps all of life was a fantasy... an illusion. But did that mean we shouldn’t live it? For once in my life I enjoyed feeling just like everyone else. Maybe it was just a fantasy, and it might not live long, but at least I could enjoy it before it was gone. The air was filled with the rhythm of the music and something more. The dancers created a special aura. It’s hard to describe, but there seemed something... I don’t know, almost magical about the night. This night was so very different from that when I first met Tay. I stood on the fringe then— present, but not really a part of things. Dancing with Laura, I felt as if I really fit in.
In the distance, Tay pushed his hair out of his eyes and caught me looking at him. He smiled at me. In that brief look, I could read his thoughts: he was having fun, but he would’ve much rather been dancing with me. Our thoughts were one. If only we could have danced together with all our friends! If only we could have held each other close, surrounded by our classmates, without fear of anyone hating us for it. How wonderful that would be! A sadness touched my heart that my dream would never come true. I gazed at Tay with love in my eyes, and read the same in his in return. The world might not be as we desired, but Taylor and I were all that we could have wished. Taylor was my wish come true. As I was watching Taylor with dreamy eyes, I became aware that Laura was speaking to me. “I’m sorry, Laura, what did you say?” “I was saying how beautiful all this is, with the lights, and the decorations.” “Oh, yes, it is that. I was just noticing it myself. It makes my mind drift away.” Laura put her head on my shoulder. I held her as if protecting her, although probably I should’ve been protecting her from me. My dishonestly left a bitter taste on my tongue. Laura was certainly a sweet girl, and lovely, too, in her way. I was just sorry that I couldn’t be for her all that she wanted me to be. I felt like I was cheating her of her dreams.
The song ended and the next one was wild and fast. The whole mood of the room changed from dreamy to out of control. I think I liked the wildness even better; it let me clear my head and just be physical. Laura and I went crazy, our legs and arms flailing in rhythm with the beat. I found myself laughing out loud, and Laura was giggling at how crazy I was acting. It was so much fun! As much as I loved it, I’d hardly ever danced before. I realized what I had been missing. By the end of the dance, I was nearly out of breath. Laura and I relinquished the floor to our tireless classmates. Taylor led Steph over to the refreshment table where we each grabbed a soda for our dates. “What’s up, Tay?” “Hey, Mark. I think you know my girlfriend, Steph?” “Girlfriend?” I said, as if surprised. I found I was pretty good at acting. “Hi, Steph.” I gave her an affectionate hug. I knew her well; we’d been friends since grade school—purely platonic. “Hey, Mark—I said my girlfriend, not yours!” said Tay with mock anger. I laughed. “For your information, I already have one,” I shot back. “Tay, this is Laura.” All four of us talked and caught our breath. I could feel eyes peering at us. There were teammates looking on with approval, Jennifer glaring with anger from afar, and even teachers noticing me with a girl for the first
time. There was an overall sense of approval, like I’d passed some kind of test. I fit in with Verona, Indiana’s narrow sense of how things should be. As good as ‘fitting in’ felt, I couldn’t shake the sense of somehow being a traitor to what I was. I felt like I was too big of a coward to stand up for what I believed. I was enjoying the sense of approval, when I should have been dancing with Taylor, challenging the world to disapprove if it dared. I wasn’t living up to my ideal self. Living up to that ideal was far harder in reality than it was in mere thought. I could not live openly as I wished. I had to live in secrecy; that was the way it had to be. I had to live the life of a vampire. I just wasn’t brave enough to live openly as what I was. The world made that far too difficult and dangerous a task. Soon, it was back to the dance floor. We could talk anytime, but dances weren’t so common. The dance was a slow one. I held Laura close as we danced, and talked. “Taylor’s very handsome, isn’t he?” said Laura. “Thinking of switching boyfriends?” I chided. “No!” she protested. “You’re very handsome, too— but isn’t he good-looking?” “Yeah, I guess so,” I said casually. If only Laura knew just how attractive I found Tay. “They make such a cute couple,” said Laura. Her conversation was boring me a little. To be honest, I’d rather have been talking about music, or soccer, or
horse-back riding. That’s one thing I liked about having a boyfriend—we could talk about guy stuff all the time. There was none of that “How’s my hair look?”, “What do you think of this outfit?”, or “Does this make me look fat?” crap. Sure, guys care about how they look, but they don’t go on and on about it, and they don’t spend time talking about how cute other couples are. Yuck! I think one of the reasons I was attracted to guys was that I so enjoying being one. There was just something special about being male, and there was a lot to admire in maleness. Women just didn’t cut it where I was concerned. Not that there was anything wrong with them, they just weren’t... guys. By the end of the night my feet were tired. I felt like I’d been through a rough soccer practice. Why was it that dancing wore me out more than running? No matter; it was great fun in any case. I hadn’t had such a good time in I don’t know how long. Laura really enjoyed herself, too, and I was very pleased about that. I wanted to make sure that Laura always had a good time when she was with me; I owed her that. I knew I could never really make up for the deceit, but I wanted to come as close to it as I possibly could. I bid Taylor an affectionate goodbye, then left the gym with Laura on my arm. How different things were from the way I wanted them to be. I drove Laura home, ill at ease over what she expected of me. It was funny in a way—I was experiencing the same feelings as other guys, but for entirely different reasons. Other boys would have been
all nervous because they were dying for a kiss, hopefully one involving tongues. I was apprehensive because I feared Laura would want to kiss me. I sought to avoid precisely what other boys craved. Mustering up all my courage, I walked Laura up the well-worn steps that led to her house, and affectionately hugged her at the door. My stomach was filled with butterflies. Did she expect me to kiss her? If so, was I supposed to use my tongue? Being with a girl was all alien territory to me. I knew if I did too little, it’d hurt her. She’d think I didn’t find her attractive, that she wasn’t pretty. And if I tried too much, she’d get mad and accuse me of having only one thing on my mind. Girls were so hard to figure out! Suddenly, the porch light went on and we stepped apart in surprise. I was saved by Laura’s little brother laughing at us through the living room window. That drew the attention of Laura’s mother and our privacy was gone. I breathed a sigh of relief; I was spared the awkwardness of a kiss, at least for the moment. As Laura went inside, I departed as quickly as I dared. Laura’s mom had a rule that she had to meet Laura’s dates. I’d lucked out when I picked Laura up; her mom was gone. I didn’t feel like dealing with her at the end of our date. Too many things were going through my mind. Thankfully, she did not pursue me. I released a sigh of profound relief, for escaping Laura’s mother, and the awkwardness of a kiss. Most boys would have been annoyed and frustrated by such an interruption. I was thrilled. I felt like I’d been saved at just the last
moment. But what about the next time we went out? Once again, I wondered just what I’d gotten myself into.
Taylor I almost felt as if I was back at my old school as I danced with Stephanie. I loved to dance and went to just about every dance I could when I lived in Ohio. I never once took a date, but there were always plenty of girls willing to dance with me. There were boys I would’ve loved to dance with, too, but that was so far out of the question that I’d never given it any serious thought. I looked over at Mark and smiled. My whole chest surged with the warm glow of love and happiness. It was almost as if I were dancing with him instead of Steph. I knew I’d never have the courage for that. I lived in constant fear of being called a ‘fag’. I knew I just couldn’t take it. It’d always been hard on me when people put me down. In grade school, some of the other boys called me ‘pretty boy’ because of my long hair. It made me want to punch them, but I didn’t think I could handle myself well in a fight. I was almost certain I’d get my ass kicked. My mind went back to kindergarten. I still remembered my first day in Mrs. Danmark’s class, more than ten years ago. A kid named Billy sat next to me. He was cute. He had dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a dark complexion. Even back then, I liked guys with dark hair, maybe because it was such a contrast to my own. I often wished my own hair was dark, instead
of being so blond it was almost white. I was painfully shy in grade school, even more so than now. When Billy asked my name, I answered “Taylor,” barely above a whisper. “That’s a girl’s name!” he told me and snickered. I was crushed. I turned red and pulled my hair over my face to hide the tears. I was a sensitive boy. His words hurt me even more because I had a crush on Billy, even though that was the first time I’d set eyes on him. I guess you could say it was ‘crush at first sight.’ I was too young to understand my feelings, but it hurt to have someone I liked say something like that to me. Billy was nice enough to pretend he didn’t see me cry. Billy and I eventually became pretty good friends, but that first day had always stuck in my mind. My classmates made fun of me sometimes, at the very beginning. It hurt. I had to use every ounce of control I had not to cry, and sometimes it wasn’t enough. Thankfully, the taunting didn’t last long. When the kids got to know me, they liked me and I was accepted. I didn’t have any real problems with being teased after the first few days in kindergarten, but those memories never faded. It was weird how I remembered my very first days in school so well, even though it was ages ago. I could nearly bring myself to tears just thinking about it. I guess I was still sensitive and easy to hurt. I wished that I was tougher, but it just wasn’t me. I looked around me and shuddered with fear for a moment. What if my new classmates found out about me and Mark? What if they discovered I was gay? The
sheer terror of it made me wonder if having a boyfriend was such a good idea. Maybe I should’ve waited until college, or after college. But if I did that, I might be waiting for my entire life. I might never have a boyfriend. There was no use in thinking about it. I had a boyfriend now, and I wasn’t going to give him up. I loved Mark so much it hurt. I couldn’t have given him up even if I wanted to, and I had no desire to do so. I looked back at Mark again. He was gazing at me with a dreamy look in his eyes. I wanted to kiss him so much that it was hard for me not to walk over and just do it, then and there. I just smiled at him instead, and continued my dance with Stephanie. I walked Steph home after the dance. Before we reached her house, she took me by the hand and led me into the park. It was beautiful there at night. We stood and looked up at the moonlight and the stars, which filled the sky as far as we could see. I could feel Stephanie gazing at me as I stared at the moon. I didn’t want to look at her. I wanted to just keep looking at the moon forever and pretend she wasn’t there. I was afraid of her for more than one reason. I was almost certain she wanted me to kiss her, but there was something else too: I liked Stephanie. I liked her a lot. I loved Mark with all my heart, but there was something about Stephanie that drew me to her. I wasn’t thinking about dumping Mark for Steph in any way, shape, or form, but pretending to be her
boyfriend made me feel like she really was my girl. I was gay and I knew it, but a part of me... I looked at Stephanie and she peered deeply into my eyes. For a moment, we stood there just looking at each other. Stephanie leaned toward me and I found myself drawing closer to her as if on instinct. I pressed my lips against hers and kissed her. She kissed me back and I liked it. I felt guilty for liking it, but I did. We kissed again and I held Stephanie in my arms. I knew I was in trouble. I knew I couldn’t stay there with her. Things were moving much too fast. I’d hoped to hold her at bay for at least a couple weeks before kissing her, but we’d already done it on our first date! I made up an excuse that I was expected home and Stephanie let me walk her back to her house. On the porch, we kissed again, and my heart raced. I felt like I was in way over my head.
Scene 3
Acceptance and Guilt
Mark Our little ploy was already beginning to have the desired effect. Guys were punching me in the shoulder in the halls at school. I heard “Way to go, stud!” more times than I could count. It was all typical teenagedboy stuff and highly exaggerated. It did feel good to be getting that kind of attention from my classmates. I was accustomed to quite a bit of attention, but not like that. Tay and I had entered the world of guys who had girlfriends. I smiled to myself; it was the perfect cover for guys who had boyfriends. Devon really pissed me off just before soccer practice. I had no problem with the enthusiasm of the other boys over my “girl,” but I didn’t appreciate crude remarks. The guys were ohhing and ahhing over Laura when Devon had to go too far. “Hey Mark, does Laura give good head?” he yelled across the locker room. I reacted with genuine anger to that. Laura may not have really been my girlfriend, but she was a friend, and I felt responsible for her reputation. Everyone knew a lot of the girls at our school gave blow-jobs. Hell, that made those particular girls really popular. Laura wasn’t like that, however, and it just didn’t seem right for Devon to say that about her. “Laura’s not a slut like the girls you date, asshole!” I snapped before I even knew what I was saying. The
whole locker room grew deathly still. Our words could’ve been the preamble to a major fight, but Devon and I were pretty good friends. He knew he had gone just a little too far, and I was definitely pissed. Maybe I was overreacting, but once I got mad about something, I didn’t have much self-control. I wasn’t someone to mess with if my anger was aroused. “Hey, dude, I’m sorry,” said Devon. “I didn’t mean anything. I was just—you know...” I could tell by the tone of his voice his apology was sincere. My anger was immediately quelled. I held Devon’s gaze for a moment, just to make sure he knew he’d come real close to getting his ass kicked, then I let him up easy. “It’s okay, Devon,” I said. “I’m sorry I blew up like that. It’s just that Laura’s a really nice girl, and I don’t want anyone saying shit like that about her.” He looked relieved. “Hey, I totally understand. Let’s just forget about it. Laura’s pretty hot, and you’re lucky to have her. I asked her out once, and she shot me down!” “Like all the girls!” shouted one of our teammates. That started a towel fight and the room was filled with half-naked young jocks snapping each other with towels. What a beautiful sight. Inwardly, I breathed a sigh of relief. That little scene between me and Devon served my purpose well, even though it was far from planned. Now all the guys knew I really cared about Laura. It wasn’t an act either. She wasn’t my girl, but I considered her my friend. To me, friendship really meant something. I did care for her—
just not the way my friends thought. If I hadn’t cared for her, maybe I could’ve shaken the cloud of guilt that was always hovering just overhead. It didn’t bother me too much to lie about having a girlfriend to my teammates and classmates. Most of the stuff guys said about what they did with girls was bullshit anyway. I’d be willing to bet that there were far more virgins in my gym class and on my soccer team than any of the guys would ever admit. I’d bet not one of them got as much action as they claimed. You’d think from the way they talked that most of them did nothing but have sex. Most of them probably did have a lot of sex, but I’m sure it involved only their own hand. It didn’t cause me too much grief to lie to the guys, but what about Laura and Steph? I considered both of them friends, and Taylor and I were taking advantage of them. No matter how nice we were about it, nothing could alter that fact. I didn’t feel very good about lying to Laura. I hadn’t exactly promised to date her until we got married, but still, I knew she was expecting more than I could give. I had a sense of guilt in my gut that just wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard I tried to rationalize the situation. No matter how much fun Laura had, no matter what I did for her, it didn’t alter the fact that I was leading her on. I made her think she had a boyfriend when she really didn’t. I just couldn’t get what I was doing out of my mind. Laura was really happy. She lit up whenever she saw me in the halls at school. She smiled at me sweetly and
squeezed me tight when I hugged her. I caught a few looks from other girls, and it was obvious they envied Laura. They wanted what she had. That made me feel pretty good about myself. But would they envy her if they knew the truth? I didn’t think so. Even Laura’s happiness made me feel guilty. I knew she was happy about something that just wasn’t real. I knew she was living in a fantasy that I’d created. If the fantasy held, it’d be just as good as reality for her, but what if it didn’t hold? How long could I make it real for her? Eventually, our relationship had to end. When the time came, could I do it in such a way to preserve the fantasy? Could I make our entire relationship a pleasant memory of things that just didn’t quite work out in the end? How was I going to bring that off? How did I get myself into such a mess? There was no backing out, however. I had to go on. That whole week after the dance, Tay and I were the talk of the school. You’d think there’d be more interesting things to talk about, but who was going with who was always the big topic. Tay and I hooking up with girlfriends was the very latest news and the gossip was flying. Lucky for me, it even overshadowed the whole incident with Jennifer. The attention was kind of a pain, and yet I enjoyed it as well. I guess it was my fifteen minutes of fame. In a week or so, some new couple would step into the spotlight, either by hooking up, or breaking up, but for the moment, we were it. Our objective was certainly accomplished. Taylor and I had drawn a cloak of secrecy around us that
prevented anyone from guessing what we really were. The villagers didn’t suspect they had vampires in their midst. The focus was now on me and Laura, and Tay and Steph, rather than on me and Tay. All doubts about us were erased, and no one was wondering about our close friendship. We were on the same soccer team and our girlfriends were close friends. It only stood to reason that Tay and I would be spending a lot of time together, too. Besides, there was nothing wrong with having close male friends. Our ‘girlfriends’ were a perfect illusion; homosexuals didn’t have girlfriends— everyone knew that. Tay and I could spend as much time with each other as we wanted, and no one would even give it a second thought. That was an incredible asset, but it was bought at a terrible cost.
Taylor I felt torn about my feelings for Stephanie. When I had first asked her out, I hadn’t bargained on really feeling something for her. I’d known for as long as I could remember that I was attracted to guys; whenever I saw a cute boy, I just felt all fuzzy inside. Whenever I saw a guy with muscles, my heart raced and I got totally turned on. Girls had never made me feel that way. I’d never thought about girls or dreamed about girls. I’d never fantasized about girls when I was alone in my bedroom, relieving a little tension—not even once. But something was happening with me and Stephanie. Much to my shock, I got that warm, fuzzy feeling when I was with her. It was nothing compared to the feeling I got when I was with Mark, but it was still there. When me and Steph kissed, it made my heart beat faster. It... aroused me. That scared me. It didn’t seem right. I mean, what kind of gay boy was I, if I wasn’t just into guys? The thought that I might be bisexual didn’t really make sense. Sure, I liked kissing Stephanie, but I had no fantasies about having sex with her. All my sexual fantasies and desires were totally centered around guys, and focused mainly on Mark. I was confused. I felt guilty for feeling something for Stephanie, especially when we kissed. I was sick with worry over it, so much so that I had to admit my feelings to Mark.
I loved him with all my heart and I wanted to be totally honest with him. A few days later, we sat in the park on a rare afternoon alone, and I got up the nerve to bring up the subject. I was so nervous, I was practically shaking. I took a deep breath. “Mark, when you’re alone with Laura... Do you like it?” He could tell something was up. He looked me in the eyes and said what I feared he would. “Why do you ask?” I frowned and looked away. I was close to tears. I was so afraid that what I had to say would hurt Mark, and that’s the last thing I wanted to do. I loved him more than I’d ever loved anyone. The tears began to well up in my eyes. “When I’m with Stephanie... I feel something for her. I don’t know what it is. I swear, I don’t love her like I love you, but I feel something for her.” I lost control and started crying. “I’m sorry...” “Hey, Taylor—it’s okay. Don’t cry, babe,” said Mark, putting his hand on my shoulder. “I just feel so guilty,” I said, sobbing. “After the dance, Stephanie and I went to the park. We kissed... and I liked it.” I began crying even louder. “C’mon, Tay! It’s okay that you like it. I’ve never made out with a girl, but I guess it’d feel the same, you know? Don’t feel guilty for liking it. I know you love me, Tay. It doesn’t bother me.”
“Really?” I said, wiping my face and looking up. “Really,” he replied, smiling at me. “I trust you, Taylor. You’re my boyfriend. I know you wouldn’t cheat on me. We’ve gotta do this. We have to have ‘girlfriends’ to protect ourselves. This kind of thing’s bound to happen, but it doesn’t mean anything.” “What about how I feel about her?” I lamented. “I like her, Mark. I really like her!” “Do you love her?” asked Mark. I didn’t answer for a few moments. “I don’t know,” I said truthfully. “But I feel something for her, and it feels like... like maybe it’s love.” Mark’s eyes widened, and I could see he was a little hurt. It tore at my heart and I softly cried some more. “Even if... even if it is love, Mark, I love you so much more. I love you more than anything. You’re the one I want. You’re the one I want to spend my whole life with. I love you more than anything, more than anyone. I’ll always love you, Mark.” If there hadn’t been others to see us, I know that Mark and I would’ve hugged just then. Mark had tears in his eyes, but he was smiling again. “I love you too, Tay, more than anything,” he said. “I love you and I trust you. You’ve been honest with me about everything, even though it would’ve been easy to hide. This thing with Stephanie—it’s okay. We both knew when we went into this that we’d be doing
stuff with our ‘girls’. So what if we enjoy some of it? It’s each other we love. If what you feel for Stephanie turns out to be love, well... then that’s okay too, because I know you love me more. There’s room in your heart for both of us. Just like I love you, and I love my mom and dad. Loving them doesn’t make me love you any less. If it turns out you love Stephanie, then that doesn’t mean you’ll love me less either.” He squeezed my shoulder affectionately. “I have to be honest. If you’d told me you loved her more than me—that you wanted her instead of me—it’d rip me apart. I couldn’t take it. I’d go crazy. I love you so much it hurts. If I thought you loved someone else instead of me, I... I don’t know what I’d do.” His voice was shaking with emotion, and I could see tears in his eyes. “You never have to worry about that, Mark,” I whispered. “I’d never love someone instead of you. I don’t know what I’m feeling for Steph, but even if it is love, I’ll never love her like I love you. Don’t ever worry about that, Mark. I’ll always love you. You’ll always be the one.” I wanted to hug Mark so bad, it hurt. It was so unfair that we couldn’t be with each other the way we wanted. Mark knew that I’d have hugged him just then if I could. I had no doubt his arms would’ve been tightly wrapped around me, too. The world denied us a hug when we needed it the most, but we knew it was there, so it didn’t matter. The world could never stop us from loving each other. Mark and I smiled at each
other through our tears. I knew that everything was going to be okay.
Mark With our new “girlfriends” came the additional problem of finding time alone together. Finding time to be alone had always been a hassle and our girls only increased the difficulty. I don’t know how many evenings I spent with Laura when I really wanted to be alone with Tay. It was so frustrating! Taylor and I were still able to spend quite a bit of time together—in classes, between classes, at lunch, at soccer practices, and at soccer games. We were always surrounded by other kids, however, and we had to be careful about what we said. There was no chance to speak freely, and no chance to be intimate in the least. I longed to just hold Tay’s hand, or give him a hug, but it was all but impossible. We could’ve had a little privacy at Taylor’s house, or mine, but when we weren’t busy with school or soccer, our girlfriends demanded our time. I couldn’t get over how needy girls were. If I didn’t spend time with Laura every evening, and then call her at night, she accused me of not caring about her. Why did she constantly have to be reassured? It was driving me out of my mind! I mean... give me a break. Even though we were rarely alone, I valued every moment with Taylor. From the very start, Tay and Steph double-dated with me and Laura. I guess it was really a triple date. I mean, there was Taylor and
Stephanie, me and Laura... and me and Taylor. I wasn’t all that experienced with dating. Okay, I wasn’t experienced at all. Most of the time, we all just kind of hung out together. I had trouble thinking of things to do for more formal dates. We’d already done the dance thing for our first real date, so we all went to the movies for the second. That’s what couples seemed to always be doing. *** I was nervous about picking up Laura at her house. I just knew her mother would be waiting on me. Any boy that wanted to date Laura had to pass inspection. I’d lucked out on our first night out, but I knew I’d have to meet her mom sooner or later. I was actually hoping she’d be home so I could put the experience behind me. I never liked to put unpleasant things off; I’d rather get them over with and be done with it. At least I wouldn’t have to endure an awkward scene with Laura’s father. Her dad had taken off when she was in kindergarten and hadn’t been seen since. After the stories my friends had told me, I was glad I didn’t have her father to deal with. Most fathers looked over their daughter’s dates like they were sizing up a piece of beef at the supermarket. Without exception, they seemed to think that the boys that came to take their daughters out were sex-crazed maniacs or something. Of course, that was a pretty good description of most guys my age, and I guess it was a pretty good
description of me, in a way. Sometimes, I felt like a sex-crazed maniac, ready to explode with desire. None of that desire was directed at Laura, however. Her mother had nothing to worry about. I pulled up in front of Laura’s house. I was so nervous, my stomach ached a little. My heart was pounding in my chest like I’d just ran a mile. I laughed at myself for getting so worked up over nothing. I walked up the steps. The door seemed like a gateway to some dangerous realm. I held my breath, then knocked. Moments later, Laura’s mom opened the door. I was surprised; she was very attractive—for a woman in her thirties, anyway. “Mark, isn’t it?” she asked, smiling. “Yeah. Hi.” “I’m Katie. Come on in, Mark. Laura isn’t ready yet. It’ll give us a chance to talk.” The moment I’d been dreading had come. It figured that Laura wouldn’t be ready, even though I was exactly on time. If she’d been in the room with me, enduring her mother’s questioning would’ve been a lot easier. Why were girls always late? What was up with that anyway? Didn’t they know how to tell time? Laura’s mom ushered me into the living room and we sat facing each other, mere inches apart. We were so close to each other, it made me uncomfortable. There was nowhere to hide. She seemed very nice, and that put me at ease a bit, but I was still nervous. “So, Mark—tell me about yourself.”
It had arrived. The moment of truth. I wasn’t quite sure what to say, so I told her about what I was doing at school. I talked a lot about soccer, too. I tended to do that—talk about soccer, that is. I was so enthused about it that sometimes I couldn’t think about anything else. Talking about soccer always made me much more comfortable. Katie asked a lot of questions, but she seemed genuinely interested, instead of suspicious. I knew I was there on approval, but I had the feeling I was passing with ease. My nervousness about meeting Laura’s mom was quickly dissipating, but something new was troubling my mind. I found myself growing wary, even though I felt silly about it at the same time. The suspicion creeping into my thoughts was too absurd to be true. Katie looked me over as we talked. I’d expected that; I knew I was being sized up. There was something peculiar in the way she looked at me, however— something that kind of disturbed me. I was beginning to suspect there was something to her gaze that wasn’t quite pure parental concern. There was something in her eyes. Was it hunger? Desire? I had the feeling she wasn’t checking me out for Laura’s sake, she was just checking me out. The more she looked at me, and the more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable I became. I knew I was probably being stupid. What would a woman in her thirties want with a sixteen year-old boy? That thought made me gulp. I was far from naive; I
knew exactly what an unattached woman like Laura’s mom might want. I looked into her eyes and I knew I was right, Katie had the hots for me! That realization made me really nervous. It was kind of flattering, but kind of creepy too. It was nothing like when the girls at school flirted with me, and it didn’t even feel the same as when Jennifer put her hand down my pants. This was totally different. I was more than half afraid that she was going to touch me, someplace where I didn’t want to be touched. I felt like I was in one of those situations where the best thing to do was run away—but this wasn’t a stranger offering me candy to coax me into her car. This was my girlfriend’s mother! Katie didn’t really do anything except look at me, but the way she did it made me feel like she wanted me. I knew I was probably being stupid, but I was still uncomfortable. It was so unexpected, that I didn’t even notice what was going on for a long time. Once I caught on, however, her desire for me was pretty damn clear. As we talked, her eyes roamed over me, lingering on my shoulders, arms, and chest. She even glanced down at my crotch a few times. She was always very subtle. I’m not even sure if I was meant to know she was checking me out. Still, she was making me feel really weird, as if I’d stepped into an after school special. The whole situation blew my mind. It almost didn’t seem real. Laura was such a nice girl that it didn’t seem possible that her mom could be looking at me like
that, especially when I was her daughter's boyfriend! I mean, if I’d been some delivery boy or something, it wouldn’t have been quite so unexpected. Things like that did happen after all. I wasn’t a delivery boy, however, and what was going on was downright shocking. What kind of mother would ogle her daughter’s boyfriend? I wondered if she’d done this kind of thing before. As I was making small talk, telling her about the dance Laura and I attended, Katie casually put her hand on my knee. It was an innocent enough move in itself, but she kept it there longer than she should have. There really wasn’t that much to it, she just touched my knee for a few moments, then drew her hand back and ran it through her hair. It probably wasn’t anything more than it appeared, but after the way she’d been checking me out, it seemed rather significant. I half expected her to run her hand up my thigh and grope me. I had the distinct feeling I was being seduced. If the two of us had been alone in the house, I really think Laura’s mom would’ve seriously put the moves on me. Part of me thought that was just ridiculous, but the rest of me knew it was true. Once again, I found myself in a position that most boys would’ve found arousing, but that I found totally frightening. I mean, Katie was pretty hot for her age and I bet a lot of boys my age would’ve laid her in a second if they got the chance. Maybe not if they were dating Laura, but you know what I mean.
Katie’s eyes lit on my chest and she just stared for a few moments, like she could see through the cloth if she stared hard enough. Her gaze lowered to my crotch once more, then she raised her eyes to look into mine. I had the feeling I’d just been given an invitation, but still I wasn’t sure. Laura came down the stairs just then and we beat a hasty retreat out the front door. I could practically feel her mom’s eyes on my ass as we left. I don’t think I’d been in such an awkward situation before in my entire life, and I’d been in some pretty difficult and uncomfortable circumstances lately. I didn’t feel violated or anything, just kinda freaked out. After all, her mom hadn’t done anything more than look at me and touch me on the knee. It’s not like she came on to me or touched me anywhere she shouldn’t. She hadn’t even said anything inappropriate. Still, the whole thing was quite bizarre. I intended to spend as little time alone with Laura’s mom as I could manage. I didn’t need any more complications in my life. I already had a fake girlfriend, I sure the hell didn’t need my fake girlfriend’s mother trying to seduce me! When did my life become a soap opera? I drove Laura to Stephanie’s house and we picked up Steph and Taylor there. We had to wait on Steph a few minutes, too, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as waiting on Laura. What an understatement! Tay looked relieved when we walked in. I had the feeling Steph’s father had been grilling him. What was it with parents? As bad as Tay’s ordeal had been, I would’ve gladly traded
with him. An interrogation would be a lot easier to deal with than what I’d just been through. Finally, we made it out of there and to the theater. The previews were already on when we walked in. We would have been there in plenty of time, if we didn’t have to wait on the girls. Why couldn’t they be ready on time? That’s another thing I liked about guys: they were always ready. No one ever had to wait on a guy while he fixed his hair or changed outfits. I wondered how my friends could stand dating girls. It was such a chore. Of course, not all girls were like that. The female tendency to be late was a stereotype, and I hated stereotypes, mainly because most of them were such crap. They were dangerous, too, maybe because they were so easy to believe. Laura and Steph were late, so I immediately bought into the ‘girls are always late’ stereotype; no wonder others fell for them so easily. I just wished Laura and Steph didn’t fit that particular cliche. Why couldn’t Tay and I have hooked up with girls who could be on time? It was so dark I couldn’t see a thing in the theater. Finally, my eyes adjusted enough that I could find us some seats without the risk of sitting on someone. We ended up sitting near the back: Steph, Tay, me, and Laura. I was happy about the seating arrangement. I was afraid that the girls would sit in the middle and I’d be separated from Tay, but luckily it didn’t happen. When the picture started, I put my arm around Laura, then pretty much ignored her. I did give her a little
squeeze now and then, but my mind was elsewhere. I get pretty wrapped up in movies, especially if there’s enough action, but Taylor was what really drew my attention away from Laura. She didn’t seem to mind, or even notice. One thing I’d learned about Laura was that she was a major movie buff. She watched everything. I was thrilled she was so into the picture; I could steal a few looks at Tay without her wondering what the hell was going on. Laura seemed content as long as my arm was snugly around her. I wished that Taylor and I were alone. I couldn’t help but think of Steph and Laura as unwanted intruders. In my mind, I was on a date with Tay and we were saddled with two girls. It sucked. Dating a girl was a lot of work. I had to keep thinking about saying all the right things to Laura, and concentrate on doing all the right things as well. I wanted to make sure Laura had a good time, but with Taylor there, my mind wasn’t really on my ‘girl.’ I wished for the hundredth time that Tay and I could be open about our relationship. Why couldn’t I put my arm around him the way I did Laura? Sure, I could do it, but there’d be hell to pay. A guy could put his arm around a girl without anyone thinking a thing about it. He could even make out with her. If I tried anything like that with Taylor we’d both get our asses kicked in the parking lot and be forever marked as perverts. Life wasn’t fair. I wished we didn’t have to sneak around like we were doing something wrong, when there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with what we were doing. Why did everything have to be so hard?
I was keenly aware of Taylor beside me. Even when I was really into the picture, I could still feel his presence. I was aware of his every movement; I could catch the scent of his cologne and sometimes hear his breath. I was attuned to all those little things that most people ignore. Taylor’s arm was on the arm rest between us. I stretched out my forearm against his. That mere touch was more exciting than anything that was going on up on the screen. Tay pressed his forearm against mine. I reached out in the darkness and interlaced my fingers with his. Holding his hand filled me with a contentment and warmth that’s hard to describe; it was one of those things that I wished I could keep doing forever and ever. If I could have, I would’ve frozen time and just sat there holding Taylor’s hand for all eternity. It was so dark in there no one could tell what we were doing. Laura or Steph could’ve noticed, but they were both too wrapped up in the film. The slight risk of discovery made it exciting. Tay and I knew well how danger heightened such experiences. We didn’t seek out risk, but sometimes we had to take it. I’d given Tay a quick hug now and then, when one of our friends was just around the corner, and Taylor had kissed me a time or two when his parents were in the next room and could have walked in at any second. We didn’t do such things often and took pains to avoid discovery, but the danger made what we were doing that much more intense.
When I touched Taylor, it wasn’t merely a physical sensation. I felt as if I were touching his soul. Whenever we made that connection, I felt like the two of us were one. That was when I was the most content—when I was with Taylor. I felt like we were meant to be together. I felt that we were destined to be together forever. Taylor and I held hands for the rest of the movie. I had my arm around Laura and Tay had his around Steph. To all the world, we looked like any other boys with their girls. No one suspected what was really going on. No one guessed our true nature. Yet again I felt like a vampire, powerful and vulnerable, an extraordinary creature walking among mere mortals. Taylor and I mingled among ordinary souls, living with the constant excitement and fear of discovery, and destruction. Each moment could be our last, and was therefore to be savored. I had a wonderful time and all because I was able to hold Taylor’s hand. Nothing else mattered. Laura, Steph, the movie, and all of those around us were without meaning, without consequence. They bore no importance in my life, left no imprint upon my existence. My whole world was the joy of holding Taylor’s hand. Who would have thought that something so simple could bring so much pleasure? The four of us lingered in the lobby after the movie. A lot of the guys from school were there, along with their dates. I talked to some of them a little—not much, but just enough to make sure they saw me there with
Laura. Taylor and I both tried to be very high profile when we were with our ‘girlfriends.’ Being seen dating a girl gave us the protection from suspicion we so desperately needed. No one suspects a vampire who can walk in the light of day. It was too bad we couldn’t have just taken Laura and Steph out now and then and be done with it. All that really mattered was being seen with girls in public. I wished we could’ve hired a couple of actresses to play the parts of our girlfriends. That would’ve made everything so much easier. We could’ve made a few appearances at dances, at movies, at ball games, and that would’ve been that. Unfortunately our ‘girls’ weren’t actresses—they were the real thing. We had to deal with the entire boyfriend/girlfriend situation, and it was far more time-consuming than I’d ever dreamed. It involved a thousand details—all confusing, some bewildering, and many exasperating. It was tough, but if it meant that Tay and I could avoid being outed, then it was all worth it.
Taylor Stephanie wanted me to walk her home, rather than ride with Mark and Laura. I gave Mark a wistful look, then set off with my ‘girl.’ We had a wonderful time at the movies. Mark held my hand almost the entire time we were there. It was such a beautiful feeling. I never knew before that merely holding hands could be so arousing. I laughed softly to myself thinking how the least touch from Mark could get me sexually excited. I was a little horn-dog when I was around him. “What’s funny?” asked Stephanie. “Uh, sometimes I just think funny things,” I said. “Like what?” she giggled. “You wouldn’t understand,” I replied. “You’d have to get in my head for it to make sense.” I thought I did a pretty good job of covering up. I sure wasn’t going to tell her I laughed because all Mark had to do was touch me to get me hard as a rock. I was still feeling the effects of being near him. I was hoping that Stephanie didn’t look down at my pants because she might’ve noticed they were a little tighter in the front than usual. That might’ve given her the wrong idea. Stephanie took my hand. It didn’t inspire the same dreamy thoughts that Mark did when he held my hand, but it did feel nice. It brought me back to my feelings
for Stephanie—feelings that I had yet to figure out. I felt very queer in a way, if you’ll pardon the pun. I was spending a lot of time worrying that I might have a thing for a girl when most boys would’ve accepted it without thought. Most guys would’ve been a lot more worried about feelings they had for another boy. It was all a bit backwards in a way—well, backward for most, but not for me. I was relieved that Stephanie didn’t lead me to the park. I was very much afraid that if we went there again she’d kiss me, that I’d kiss her back, and maybe even go further this time. There was a little part of me that wanted to kiss her. It wasn’t a powerful desire such as the one I had for kissing Mark, but it was there. My sense of relief faded when we got to Stephanie’s place and I realized we were alone in the house. Why weren’t parents ever around when you needed them? I would’ve even been glad to see Steph’s dad again, even though I didn’t care all that much for him. He asked too many questions. Stephanie and I sat on the couch, close together. I was uncomfortable, mainly because I was feeling aroused. Was it because Mark had been holding my hand and I’d been thinking of him? Or, was it because I was attracted to Stephanie? All I know was than when she put her hand on my leg my heart started beating faster and my jeans grew tighter still. I had half a mind to get up and run. “Would you like something to drink?” “No, thanks—that’s okay,” I said.
“I’ll get you something.” She acted as if she hadn’t heard me. Stephanie was back in moments with a couple of glasses of iced tea. As she neared, her hand slipped and she dumped one of them all over me, soaking my shirt and even my jeans. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I did that!” said Stephanie. “It’s all right, really. I’ve been wet before, honest.” I laughed. I was trying to put her at ease and make sure she didn’t feel stupid as I sometimes did when I knocked something over. “You’re soaking wet. Let me get one of my dad’s shirts for you.” “No, it’s okay, really.” Stephanie didn’t take no for an answer. Before I could stop her, she’d pulled my shirt over my head. I blushed. I was a little embarrassed about being shirtless in front of her. “I don’t need your dad’s shirt, really.” I was afraid of what he’d do if he found out I’d been wearing one of his shirts. I also wanted desperately to get my own shirt back on. I felt naked. Stephanie made no move to leave the room. It was then that I began to suspect that her dumping tea on me was no accident. I froze for a moment when the thought occurred to me. I looked at Stephanie and her eyes were on my chest.
“Okay, if you really don’t want one,” she said softly. I had gotten up off the couch when she pulled off my shirt. Steph took a step closer and slowly reached out to touch my chest. She trailed her fingers around my pecs, then down over my abdomen. I breathed just a bit harder and started to get more aroused, then I looked at Stephanie and our eyes locked. I found myself drawing nearer to her, and, before I knew it, we were kissing. Her hands wandered over my bare chest as we kissed. Her touch felt so sensual and sexy. A few soft moans escaped from my lips. I started to breathe even harder and kissed her more passionately. My eyes widened as our tongues entwined. What was I doing? I didn’t want this. Well, I wanted it, but I wanted it with Mark! I couldn’t let Stephanie seduce me. I had to get out of there. Who knew what would happen if I stayed? Steph was carefully manipulating me. I was vulnerable and confused, and she was seducing me. I had to get out that very moment. “Oh, no!” I said, glancing at my wristwatch, feighning surprise. “What?” “My dad’s gonna kill me. He said to be home by ten or I’d be grounded for a week! It’s almost ten now! I’ve gotta run!” I grabbed my shirt and bolted from the room. I think my lie and my genuine panic made Stephanie believe me. I ran away from her house and down the street. I didn’t slow down until I was well out of sight, three
blocks away. As I caught my breath, I thought about the predicament I was in. Things were going way too far with Stephanie, way too fast—and the worst of it was that part of me liked it. What was I going to do?
Scene 4
Alone at Last
Mark The first real chance Taylor and I had to be alone together came at an away soccer game. We were playing the Vikings, one of our toughest opponents. I always looked forward to playing the Vikings. It was usually a real challenge. This away game was so far away that the school sprung for a motel—not a very good motel mind you, but at least it was far away from our girlfriends. That in itself was a pretty attractive feature. For one evening at least, we were free! Tay and I convinced coach to switch our room assignments so we could share a room. It wasn’t hard to talk him into it. We scored a lot of goals, so coach pretty much let us have our way. Like I said before, he was pretty obsessed with winning. Taylor and I sat together on the way to the game. We were surrounded by teammates and couldn’t talk about that night, but it was clear we were both thinking about it. Hell, it was all I could think about. I’d been obsessed with it for days, and I’d been waiting for it all my life. I was excited, in more ways than one. I was also so nervous my stomach ached. That seemed to be happening to me a lot. I guess it was a sign that my life had become interesting. Other parts of my anatomy were aching as well, but for whole other reasons. Taylor and I hadn’t discussed it, but I think we both
knew what was going to happen when we were alone at last. I sure hoped he was thinking the same thoughts I was. Even if he wasn’t, just being alone with him would be wonderful. Every once in awhile on the bus ride, Taylor smiled at me and raised his eyebrows. I smiled back. It was the only way we had of communicating our feelings. We spent most of our time talking about the upcoming game. I was a soccer freak, and so was Tay, so talking soccer for hours on our way there was pretty cool. I just wished we could talk about a few other topics—not that there was all that much to say, but since we never seemed to be able to talk about what we really wanted to talk about, the desire to do so was always on my mind. It was a long trip and my butt was dead asleep by the time we got there. It felt good just to stand up and stretch. I was so filled with energy I was ready to explode. The entire team piled out of the bus screaming and hooting. I lead the charge. “Let’s kick some ass!” I yelled. “Yeah!” As we changed in the unfamiliar locker room, I felt like a warrior getting ready to do battle. I almost felt sorry for our opponents. I was in the mood to kick ass and I was just the guy to do it. I watched as Taylor pulled off his shirt and slipped into his soccer jersey, and I felt my heart beat faster. Taylor was so beautiful, he was practically a work of art. How could anyone not find him attractive?
I tore my eyes away from him and tried to concentrate on the game for a moment. The Vikings were tough as nails, but I knew if we could score soon enough, it’d shake them up. If we couldn’t score fast, we could still win, but it’d be quite a struggle. That was okay, too; soccer was my kind of fight. I thought of each game like a battle—a battle I intended to win. I think coach thought of it that way too, but he took things far too seriously. I wanted to win so bad I could taste it, but coach took it much farther. His attitude was “come back with a win, or don’t come back.” Sometimes I think he lived his life vicariously through his players. I slapped Tay on the butt as we ran out of the locker room and onto the field, and he smiled at me. He loved the struggle of the game as much as I did. We both loved the exertion, the sweat, the tactical maneuvers, the swift, split-second timing, the raw strength, the ancient male against male competition. There was something powerful and even erotic about the struggle to win—something primeval, almost sensual. I think I felt the most alive when I was fighting to win; the more desperate the fight, the more intense the feeling. Even losing didn’t diminish how I felt, all that really mattered was the struggle itself. I was pumped. Soccer always got me charged up, but thinking about what might be happening after the game gave me a surge of adrenaline like I’d never had before. I was champing at the bit as the whistle blew. I kicked the ball forward and charged after it like a
freight train ready to plow down anyone who got in my way. I was so wild, I was nearly out of control. My eyes were practically bugging out of my head. If I were a lineman in a football game, I bet I would have scared the shit out of the guy across from me. I think a few of my opponents were a little leery of me, even though high school soccer isn’t supposed to be a contact sport. It can be if you do it just right—but technically, it’s not. Despite my excitement—or perhaps because of it—I had a lot of trouble keeping my mind on the game. It was hard to think about soccer instead of Taylor, especially since he was right by my side. The mere sight of him sent my mind spinning in directions that had nothing to do with the game. His flowing blond hair, handsome face, and lithe, firm body almost made me forget where I was. Such a distraction was new to me, but I made it part of the fight, just another opponent that I had to parry, dodge, and outmaneuver. We played well together, as always. Tay was pretty hyped-up too—a mass of raw power, strength, and incredible skill. We were a terror on the field, and our teammates and coach cheered us on. Soccer was the one thing at which both Taylor and I excelled. The field was ours. The game was a tough one and I nearly got kicked out. Some dude with an attitude on the other team was talking shit and pushing me around. I don’t take crap off of anybody, so I knocked his ass flat. I was smart enough to do it legally while he had the ball, so it looked like I was going after the ball and just couldn’t
stop. The referees bought it, but smart-ass knew I’d plowed into him on purpose. I didn’t care—I wanted him to know. He was pissed-off and started to come after me. I was ready, but the ref warned him off. We glared at each other for the rest of the game, but he didn’t try anything again. If he had started something, I would’ve kicked his ass. I’m not someone to mess with! I was so pumped I felt like I could take on him and his entire team. I was a little sorry he didn’t start a fight. My fist would’ve felt so good smashing into his punk face. Taylor and I were unstoppable as we cut through the Viking’s defense like a hot knife through butter. We charged down the field, dribbling the ball around opponents, the wind racing through our hair. Whenever I got into a tight spot, Tay was there. I passed and Taylor ripped onward toward the goal. We scored less than two minutes into the game. That really shook our opponents up, just like I knew it would. We had ‘em by the balls and I intended to squeeze. It didn’t take the Vikings long to adjust their defense. Taylor and I were clearly the ones to watch and they stuck to us like glue. That slowed us down, but it gave the rest of our team a chance. The Vikings couldn’t watch us all. The more they focused on me and Tay, the more Brandon, Devon, and the others slipped through. We were a team. It didn’t matter who scored, as long as someone scored. The Vikings were really tough on offense and broke through our defense several times. They didn’t seem to
be able to make a goal, however. Our goalie, Ryan, made some kick-ass saves, and a few others came up with nice blocks, too. If those guys hadn’t been there, we would’ve been toast. We ended up winning 7-1. We’d never done so well against the Vikings before. Tay and I scored two goals each, so we were high on everybody’s list. My back was getting sore from so many guys slapping it. I was going nuts. I just kept screaming “Yeah!” at the top of my lungs. I even directed one “Yeah!” right at the punk who had been talking shit. He started to come after me again, but his buddies pulled him away. Too bad; that guy needed his ass kicked. We were famished on the way back to the motel, so we stopped by Burger Dude after the game. Taylor loved the food at that place, especially the French toast squares and cinnamon mini's. He got me hooked on them, too. It was far too late for breakfast, but I wolfed down two double cheeseburgers, a large order of fries, and a large drink. It was a wonder I wasn’t fat, but I guess I just burned it all off. I was always lean. I wasn’t the only one who was starving. Tay ate almost as much as I did, and so did Devon and Jon, who were sitting with us. Jon was one of my best buds on the team. He had hair as black as coal and an incredible build. I never thought of him as anything but a friend. In fact, he was more like a brother, almost as much so as Brandon. And even though Devon could be a wiseass sometimes, he and I were really tight, too. It was
great having close friends like that. Those guys meant a lot to me. A couple of cute girls were staring at me and Taylor. We smiled at them and pretty soon they came over and started flirting with us, big-time. I glanced at Taylor and he rolled his eyes. Girls just couldn’t be encouraged at all. We just smiled at them to be nice and then there they were—practically drooling on us. We talked to them for awhile, but didn’t do anything to indicate we were interested. Gee, wouldn’t they ever leave us alone? I had to admit, they were cute, but they were girls! Tay and I could’ve been in a tight spot, but our ‘girlfriends’ back home rescued us, even though they weren’t there. A thought crossed my mind. Maybe I could get these girls off us, and do Devon and Jon both a favor at the same time. I smiled sweetly at the girl who had singled me out, then racked my brain trying to think of something really nice to say to her. A compliment can be disarming and I didn’t want her all pissed when I tried to pass her off to my buddies. “You have beautiful eyes, uhm...” I hesitated, I didn’t even know her name. “Shannon,” she said. I could tell she was eating up my compliment. Girls always seemed to go for that crap. I wasn’t lying, however; she did have beautiful eyes, though I felt pretty corny saying it to her, like a line from a really bad novel. “Shannon,” I repeated, smiling. “You have eyes just like my girlfriend back in Verona.”
That brought a frown to her face. She looked more than a little disappointed. Her friend quickly looked at Tay. “I have a girlfriend, too,” Taylor said wistfully. Anyone watching would’ve really thought Tay was sorry he wasn’t free to do something with that girl. The boy was a good actor. Both Devon and Jon sat up a little straighter. They were smart enough not to say anything, but they looked like starving dogs drooling over a juicy steak. “These two are free, however,” I said, indicating Jon and Devon. “If you don’t mind ugly, that is.” “Hey!” yelled Jon. “Butt-ugly,” said Taylor, totally deadpan. Devon punched him on the shoulder, but he was grinning. The girls laughed. I could tell by the way they looked at Jon and Devon that they thought they were anything but ugly. “Maybe...” I suggested, arching my eyebrows and tilting my head towards my buddies. Your average girl would’ve probably been insulted by being passed on to another guy, but these weren’t average girls. I don’t like to label anyone, but if I had to put a label on them, I would’ve called them ‘sluts.’ It was pretty obvious what they were after; they were a teenaged boy’s dream come true. The girls seemed intrigued by the idea. Devon and Jon were both pretty cute and I could see why girls
would go for them. Since Tay and I were unavailable—and they had no idea how unavailable—I guess the girls figured our buddies would suit their needs. I wasn’t sure just what those needs were, but I knew what Devon and Jon were fantasizing about as they sat there. They were trying to be cool, but their eagerness was hard to hide. It was kind of funny. Their eyes were glazed over with lust and I bet neither one of them could have stood up just then—if you know what I mean. “Here, take our seats,” I said, sliding out of the booth and clearing my stuff out of the way. Taylor got up, too, and wandered off for some ice cream. I gave Devon and Jon a ‘you owe me one’ grin as we left. I had the feeling those boys would be having a whole lot of fun, if they could sneak the girls back to their motel room. Taylor handed me an ice cream cone and we walked back over to the motel to find coach and get our room key. We were alone for the first time that day, but we were both too shy to say much about what we both knew was going to happen. I felt lightheaded, almost giddy. “I’m really looking forward to tonight,” I said. I wanted to say more, but the words just wouldn’t come. I felt stupid for being so awkward and shy, but I was so happy, I didn’t care. I felt like I could walk on air. “Me, too,” said Taylor smiling. He was always smiling. That’s one of the many things I loved about him. I could read all sorts of things in his smile just
then. It was sweet, caring, mischievous, sensual—and just a touch wicked. The wicked part was particularly intriguing. We found room 124, coach’s room. He complimented us on the game, handed us our key, then went back to watching some TV show. We were in room 214, one flight up. Our motel was one of those with all the entrances to the rooms outside—not exactly the Hilton, but Tay and I didn’t care. We climbed up the stairs and made it to the door. As I put the key into the slot, my legs were wobbly and my knees were weak, and it had nothing to do with the stairs or the soccer game we’d just played. Taylor and I had no more than dropped our bags on the floor when a few of our teammates dropped by. I wasn’t interested in hosting the party room for the night. I wanted privacy, and I could tell by the look on Taylor’s face that he shared my feelings completely. We resigned ourselves to giving up a little of our time alone. Spending time with the guys was great, but it wasn’t what we wanted just then. Still, we couldn’t exactly ask them to leave without arousing suspicion. It seemed to take forever to get our teammates to clear out of our room. We didn’t want to be rude, but we wanted to be alone. Tay and I feigned exhaustion and they finally left. It was a moment we’d both been waiting for. When it came down to it, however, I was so nervous I was actually trembling. It had started on the stairs, eased up a bit when our buddies were there, then returned with a vengeance when the last of our
teammates departed. My heart raced and I had a major case of butterflies in my stomach, yet again. Tay sat on the edge of one bed, while I sat on the other. We silently gazed at each other. Both of us knew what we were thinking, but still it wasn’t easy. We both sat there smiling shyly at each other. I felt distinctly stupid. I’d dreamed about having time alone with Taylor since we’d met. At last, that moment had come and I was too shy to even speak! I wasn’t the same boy who went wild on the soccer field or the same boy who nearly decked an opponent. What was the matter with me? Why was being with Tay so difficult? I gazed at Tay. He was exceptionally good-looking anytime, but his shyness made him cuter than ever. Taylor was still in his soccer uniform, as was I, and that blue and white uniform made him particularly appealing. My eyes wandered slowly down his torso to his bare, muscular legs, which had just a handful of blond hairs on his thighs. Just looking at him made me feel all warm inside. Tay was beautifully built, a boy anyone could find appealing. My gaze roamed over his well-shaped form and rested finally on his eyes. Tay smiled at me with a knowing, loving look and patted the bed beside him. My heart was pounding in my chest as I arose, then seated myself next to him. Taylor was the boy of my dreams. I didn’t feel I deserved him; it all seemed too good to possibly be true. I silently prayed that it wasn’t all some sort of dream. If I awakened to find there was
no Taylor in my life, I wouldn’t have wanted to live a moment longer. I looked at Taylor timidly. I was almost afraid to touch him. I knew that I had to make the moves, however. Tay was far more shy than I, but at the moment, I wondered if that was possible. I felt like the shyest boy in the entire world. Why did I feel that way? I’d held Taylor in my arms before, and I’d kissed him, but somehow it was different now. It had far more meaning. Both of us knew what we wanted, but we were both too afraid to make the first move. I summoned all my courage and drew in a deep breath. Slowly, almost hesitantly, I reached out to Taylor and to the life I knew could at last be mine. I gently guided him to his feet and we stood facing each other, mere inches apart. I wrapped my arms around his slim waist, drew him close, and hugged him tight. I felt secure in his embrace, and I felt loved as I never had been before. His love flowed through me like a physical force. I can’t begin to describe it. Even a poet could toil a lifetime and not be able to accurately relate the pure bliss that comes from being loved. Loving another is a wonderful thing, but being loved by another is the most extraordinary feeling in all the world. Taylor felt so good in my arms, his firm body pressed against my own. I could feel his heartbeat, feel his sweet, hot breath on my neck, feel his warmth. I nuzzled my nose in his hair, drinking in his scent. It intoxicated me like wine.
I cared about Tay so much my heart ached, and I was so happy to be with him it almost hurt. I wanted to protect him... help him... make him happy every moment of his life. I wanted to hold him forever in my arms and never let him go. We loosened our grip and pulled back just enough so that we could gaze into each other’s eyes. Our noses were barely an inch apart. I felt as if Tay was gazing into my very soul. I wanted to draw him in, make him a part of me, and let him feel the depth of my love for him. I wanted him to understand just how much he meant to me. I wanted the two of us to be one. He nudged forward and rubbed his nose on mine. I could feel his sweet breath upon me. We nudged forward hesitantly, awkwardly, until our lips met. Our kiss was gentle—halting, our lips barely brushing each other. As our hunger deepened, we kissed more forcefully, yet gently still. Our lips parted and our tongues entwined, gliding across and around each other. Taylor’s kiss was warm and pure. We parted for a moment, smiles turning up the edges of our mouths. Taylor nuzzled my nose with his and kissed me again. I wrapped my arms more tightly around him and held him close as our lips and tongues intertwined again. I’d waited a painful eternity for this moment, and this moment alone was worth it all. Had I died just then, I would’ve died content. Our paced quickened, and our hearts began to race. Taylor sought out my earlobes with his lips, sending me into an ecstasy of which I’d only dreamed. We necked
passionately, holding each other tight, and then our hands began to explore. Taylor’s body was strong, firm, and tight. His manner seemed such a contrast to his form. His movements were soft, gentle. His merest touch set me aflame with passion, awakening my desire in a way no one else ever could. It didn’t matter what I was doing with Tay—just so I was with him. I was in love. My passion made me bold, more like my true self. I pulled Tay’s shirt over his head and ran my hands over his beautiful torso. He was so smooth and firm. Touching him excited me beyond what I’d previously thought possible. Everything with Taylor was new and exhilarating. I felt alive as I never had before. I pulled him to me and kissed him again, running my hands through his beautiful, long, blond hair. Everything about Taylor was filled with beauty. I pulled my lips from his and chewed on his neck. I playfully bit at his shoulder, then lowered my lips to his chest. His skin was soft and silky, his chest hard and warm. My mouth opened and I explored his chest with my lips and tongue, licking him and biting him playfully. The soft moans that escaped from his lips filled my heart with joy. Our pace grew more hurried as our passion began to consume us. Tay tore my shirt over my head and pushed me back on the bed. He was on top of me in moments, surprising me with his aggressiveness. His lips and tongue were all over me, and I experienced pleasure I hadn’t before that night.
I pushed Taylor’s shorts down as he lay on top of me. In moments, he yanked my shorts down to my ankles, too. We kicked them off and were soon laying naked on the bed together, Tay still on top of me. I never dreamed he could be so aggressive. I guess what they say about the quiet ones is true. We explored every inch of each other—each touch, each caress a delight. Our hands were everywhere all at once; our lips and tongues the same. My hunger for Taylor was unbounded, as was his for me. At times, our love was unhurried. At others, nearly frantic. Unhurried or no, it was intense beyond imagination. No flame of passion ever burned as hot or as bright. I experienced things that night I never had before. It was all just as wonderful and beautiful as I had dreamed, and it was all because of Taylor. I loved him with all my heart, everything that we did together was an expression of our love. Our hearts pounded in our chests, our breath came in gasps, Taylor and I sweated with exertion... and still we kept making love. The hours passed and still we caressed and explored one another. We didn’t pause until far into the night— morning really, for the dim yellow rays of dawn were beginning to creep through the closed drapes. When we grew still at last, I nuzzled up against Tay, feeling his warm skin against my own. I rested my head on his smooth, strong chest, hypnotized by the gentle rhythm of his heart. I fell asleep in his embrace and slept as I never had before.
Taylor My night with Mark was amazing. I let Mark take the lead in the beginning. Had it been left up to me, I don’t know if I ever could’ve worked up the courage to touch him, even though I was burning with desire to do so. Once he pulled off my shirt and we were making out, I felt the desires burning within me take control. I surprised myself when I yanked off Mark’s shirt and pushed him back on the bed. I’d always imagined him being in control, but something made me just want to take him. Mark didn’t mind in the least—in fact, I’m positive he liked me getting aggressive with him. I lay on top of him and pressed against him. His body felt so good beneath mine. I loved the feel of his muscular chest pressed against my own. Mark’s body was a work of art. He’s told me many times that I’m beautiful, but he’s the one with beauty. The muscles of his chest, arms and abdomen fanned the flames of my desire to such heights that I knew inhibition no longer. I was consumed with desire for him and acted on it purely by instinct, without the barest hint of shyness. Mark awakened something within me that I didn’t even know was there. My boldness knew no bounds. Had I not thought that it was something we should save for later, I would’ve told Mark that I wanted to be in him. That’s something that I think we should wait for—at least awhile longer,
although I wanted it so badly, the desire for it nearly drove me insane. I don’t know how many times during the night Mark and I lay side by side, or one on top of the other, panting and sweating as if we’d played an entire soccer game without a break. And yet, with the briefest rest, we were ready to go at it again. I lost track of how many times we climaxed together, six? Seven times? Oh, how I wished we could’ve made love forever, but sleep finally took our exhausted bodies. We were awakened a scant few hours later by coach pounding on our door, telling us the bus would be pulling out in fifteen minutes. We jumped out of bed and quickly dressed, then packed up, pausing just once to hold each other close and kiss once more. I was filled with contentment. Mark and I had done things during the night that I’d only dreamed about before. All of it was so much more than I’d imagined, because I was with someone I truly loved. I felt closer to Mark and more in love with him than ever before. We raced out the door, taking a moment to mess up the untouched bed. It was a long ride home and I was tired, but Mark was at my side. As long as he was there, I felt like I could conquer the world. We even managed to surreptitiously hold hands a little on the way home. Could life get any better? We even had some time alone when we went to Mark’s house after returning. His parents were gone for the afternoon and we took the opportunity to make out on his bed. Our lips were locked before we so
much as spoke a word. I yearned to rip his clothes off and go at it again, but I knew that the risk was too great and contented myself with kissing Mark over and over. “Mmmm,” I said, when our lips parted, “you kiss so well.” “You’re a wild boy!” said Mark. “Last night was unbelievable! I never guessed you’d get so forceful.” “You liked that, did you?” I asked slyly. “Oh, God, yes!” I kissed him again. “I want you so bad right now I can’t stand it,” I told him. “If I didn’t think my parents would be home soon...” Mark said, shaking his head. I hesitated, then gathered up my courage. “The next time, do you think...” My boldness was fleeing. “Yeah?” asked Mark. “I’d like to...” I looked away, embarrassed. “I can’t say it.” Mark smiled at me. I had the feeling he could read my mind. He reached out and gently turned my face back to his. “The next time we’re alone,” said Mark, giving my groin a gentle squeeze, “I want to do it all. I want you in me.” I actually moaned with the desire of it. “God, I wish the next time was now,” I said wistfully.
“So do I,” said Mark, “so do I.”
Scene 5
A Confrontation at the Beach
Mark “Miss me?” asked Laura as she hugged me tightly Monday morning at school. “Of course!” I lied. Truthfully, I hadn’t missed her at all. I was walking around in a blissful daze, my mind filled with thoughts of Tay and all we had experienced with each other. Laura was an intrusion on my world. I wanted Taylor, not her. I wanted to hold hands in the halls with him, hug him, and kiss him—not Laura. If only I could let the world know he was my boyfriend, the way everyone thought Laura was my girlfriend. That just could not be, however. Sometimes I hated being a vampire, but it was my true nature. No—I didn’t hate what I was. I hated how the world forced me to hide my true self. I was forced to suffer because others couldn’t deal with what I was. There was nothing wrong with me; there was something wrong with those who would not, or could not, understand. It was amazing how easy it was to lie once I got started. My first lies to Laura stuck in my throat like a ball of barbed wire, but I eventually got used to the idea. I still didn’t like it, but it was a necessary evil. Each lie was a little less difficult than the one before. The lies were easier to handle; the guilt was not. I did everything I could to make it up to Laura. I tried
my hardest to make her happy. I even spent time with her when I really wanted to be with Taylor . I knew in my heart that what I was doing was wrong, so I did all I could to make up for it and ease my conscience. No matter what I did, however, I knew that I should tell Laura the truth. But there was no way to do that without hurting her. It was too late. I was trapped. I spoke with Taylor about my feelings over the whole girlfriend affair on a rare evening after practice, when neither of us had to be with our girls. We sat in Taylor ’s living room and spoke softly, so that his mother in the distant kitchen wouldn’t hear. “Mark, I know exactly how you feel,” he sighed. “Even worse, this whole thing was my idea, remember? Every time I think about how I’m lying to Steph, I feel like a major dick. I know it’s wrong, but what can we do?” I shrugged my shoulders. Knowing that Taylor felt just as guilty as I did over this whole affair made me love him all the more. A lot of guys can just use someone without giving it a thought, and they’re not nearly so nice about it as Tay and I were. Still, the guilt was painful and haunted me like a ghost, but I’d rather have felt the pain and guilt than no remorse at all. I didn’t want a heart of ice. I looked up at Tay ’s greenish-blue eyes. “I really feel like a piece of shit,” I said. “The way Laura looks at me, the way she lights up whenever she sees me. She’s really in love with me. I don’t want to hurt her.”
Taylor nodded. “I know. Steph’s so happy whenever I’m around. She cares for me. She’s been hinting around about taking things farther. She said that she’s never went farther with a boy than necking, but I was special—I was the one.” His voice caught in his throat. A single tear trickled down his cheek. “I... I don’t think I can do this anymore, Mark. I know that the whole thing was my idea, but I don’t think I can go on lying to Steph much longer. I can’t bear to hurt her like this.” One look at the anguished expression on his face him was enough to make the tears well up in my eyes. Tay truly was a kind soul. “I know,” I said with genuine empathy. “But we can’t just break up with them for no reason!” “I’m so confused, Mark. You’re the one I love, but I have feelings for Stephanie. I really, really like her. When she and I are making out and fooling around... I like it! It’s not like when I’m with you—nothing like that. You’re so much hotter than her that it’s not even funny. But still I like it, and it makes me feel like I’m cheating on you or something! I don’t know what to do.” He brought his face closer to mine. “I think I... I kind of love her, in a way. I’m not sure—it’s all so confusing. I don’t know what I’m feeling anymore!” I grew very quiet. I did that sometimes when my feelings were hurt. I appreciated that Taylor was being honest with me, but his words still stung. I turned away. I didn’t want him to know that I was hurt, but I couldn’t stop the tears. “Mark?” said Taylor , gripping my shoulder.
“Do you love her more than me?” I croaked, still facing away from him. I knew that if he told me he did that my heart would shatter into a million pieces. “No, no!” he protested, pulling me around, forcing me to look at him. “It’s you I love, Mark! I mean... I care for Stephanie, but not like I love you! It could never be like that.” We stared at each other for a moment. Finally, he wiped the tears off his face and gathered his resolve. “Look,” he said. “You give me the word, and I’ll break up with her this instant. You’re the one I want, now and forever. Whatever I have with Stephanie is nothing compared to what I feel for you! Don’t ever worry about that. I’m your boyfriend, Mark, and I always will be. Unless...” “Unless what?” I asked, expectantly, fearfully. He looked away nervously. “Unless... you dump me.” “I’d never do that!” I said, starting to smile. “I’m sorry for getting so upset, Tay . It’s just that I love you so much. You mean everything to me. If I lost you, I’d go insane. I couldn’t make it without you if I lost you. Hearing you say those things about Stephanie just... it just scared me. It’s okay, though. I understand. I mean, I like Laura—I like her a lot. But I don’t feel for her like you do for Stephanie, and I’m not attracted to her in the least. But I still understand.” “So, you think maybe I’m bisexual?” asked Taylor thoughtfully.
“Maybe,” I told him. “Maybe everybody’s a little bit bisexual.” Taylor started to say something, then stopped and cleared his throat. He looked up at me. “Do you still love me?” he asked. I rolled my eyes. “Now that’s really a stupid question! Of course I still love you! Don’t you understand, Taylor ? Don’t you know there isn’t anything you could do or say that’d make me stop loving you?” Taylor smiled and held my hand for a few moments. We would’ve hugged if his mom hadn’t been in the house. It was a shame we couldn’t, but both of us knew we’d be making out as soon as we got the chance. Neither of us knew what to do about our “girlfriends.” We couldn’t keep seeing them without causing them—and ourselves—a lot of trouble. We couldn’t stop seeing them without arousing suspicion. We were trapped. We were in way over our heads, and we both knew it.
Taylor When Mark cried in front of me, my heart nearly broke. The pain he was feeling was evident on his face. I understood. If I ever thought I was losing him, I’d definitely have felt just the same. I was completely honest with him about Stephanie. I felt that was the only way to make it through the whole situation. I loved him with all my heart and lying to him was something I couldn’t even comprehend. There was one thing that I wasn’t entirely truthful about with Mark: I didn’t tell him that Stephanie was pushing me for sex. I told Mark she was hinting around, but she was doing a hell of a lot more than just hinting. She was being persistent about it. Whenever we were together alone, she’d steer the conversation toward sex. I had no doubt that she was open to any ideas I had. Whenever we were together, she couldn’t keep her hands off me—almost as if our roles were reversed. Maybe she was being aggressive because I wasn’t making any moves. Part of me wanted to make some moves on her, although I was confused as to what I’d really do if I actually got her naked. Stephanie excited me in a way, and yet some of the things she might want me to do with her filled me with revulsion. That’s why I wasn’t sure if I was bi or not. If I was, shouldn’t I have been as aroused about anything sexual with a girl the way I
was with a guy? Just the thought of doing stuff with Stephanie excited me so much, I thought my jeans would rip from the strain, but most other girls didn’t turn me on at all. My feelings and desires toward her weren’t black and white, but rather shades of gray that I just couldn’t understand. I wished that I could just break up with her; maybe that would end my confusion, once and for all. But I was so afraid I’d end up hurting her, or Mark. Seeing Mark so upset tore into my heart. I couldn’t stand seeing him in pain, especially when I was the cause of it. I wanted to break up with Stephanie for his sake. At least one thing was clear in my mind, if it came down to a choice of who to hurt to spare the other, Stephanie would have to bear the pain. Mark was the one I truly loved. I felt like I wouldn’t even be able to breathe if he wasn’t in my life. I wanted to suppress my feelings for Stephanie. I didn’t want to feel anything beyond friendship for her. I didn’t know where my feelings for her were coming from. I didn’t want to care for her. I didn’t want to feel love for her. It would’ve been bad enough if Mark wasn’t in my life, but my love for him made it all the more confusing. I loved Mark with all my heart. How could I have even the least feelings of romantic love for Stephanie when I loved Mark so? I wanted to suppress my desires for Stephanie, as well. The mere thought of Mark aroused me beyond belief, so then why was Steph able to excite me? I didn’t think of her sexually when we were apart. I
thought about Mark sexually all the time, but not Stephanie. And yet when she and I were together, it was another story—I found myself wanting to kiss her... even to have sex with her! I was disgusted with myself. Was I such a little sex fiend that I wanted anyone who would have me? I couldn’t go on dating Steph much longer. It was too painful, too damaging, and too confusing. The trouble was, I didn’t know how to stop dating her.
Mark The weekend after our incredible night together, Taylor and I took our “girls” to a cook-out/beach party at Koontz Lake . It was a little late in the year for swimming, but the temperature had been above normal for weeks. It was a bright sunny day too. It was everyone’s last chance to swim and enjoy the sun before it got too cold. All of us were amazed that it was still warm enough to swim so late in the year. It was October after all. Brandon had invited us earlier in the week. A bunch of the guys from the team were coming, as well as a few others, plus all the girlfriends, so it was a pretty big crowd. We arrived a little after noon , lugging three huge coolers stuffed with soft drinks. Everyone was bringing something and we were in charge of beverages. I know most of the guys would’ve preferred beer, but the lake area was highly patrolled and besides, it wouldn’t exactly have been easy to get our hands on alcohol. Brandon was already flipping burgers on a grill when we got there. There were mounds of food spread out all over picnic tables. There were a ton of kids there, playing Frisbee, football, and just messing around. Tay and I wasted no time. We pulled off our shirts, shoes, and socks and dove into the lake. The water was reasonably warm and the sun downright hot. Laura and
Steph weren’t far behind us. I have to admit that they both looked pretty good in their skimpy swimsuits. I saw a lot of guys eyeing them and my chest swelled a little with pride over having such a pretty girl, even if she wasn’t really my girlfriend. I guess there was just something about having what other guys wanted. Taylor and I wrestled around in the water with some of the other guys. The girls mainly just floated around or hung out on the beach. Some of the guys there looked pretty hot. Brandon , Devon , and Jon in particular had really hot bodies, and I stole a few glances of them now and then. I caught Tay looking at them too. He smiled at me and arched his eyebrows. It was cool being with someone who appreciated the beauty of the male form. Ethan was there too, and, as always, he made me drool. It seemed almost impossible that a boy of his age could have that many muscles. I was proud of my own build, but I was a wimp compared to Ethan. Hell, everyone was downright pathetic compared to him. He was that built and that hot. I noticed that Taylor didn’t fail to do a lot of looking at Ethan. I wasn’t jealous that Tay was looking at other guys. I knew that’s all he was doing—just looking. Taylor was just like me; he took commitment seriously. We were boyfriends and neither of us would consider going with another guy, so there was no need for jealousy. It was great that we could trust each other like that. I even trusted him with Stephanie. Tay was completely honest
about his feelings for her, and it made me trust him all the more. Laura and Steph didn’t swim long. They sunned themselves on the shore while Taylor and I horsed around with the guys. They were busy talking to each other, so they didn’t mind that we weren’t right there with them. I was glad because I had no intention of being one of those guys whose girlfriend led him around like a dog on a leash. If Laura tried that with me, she’d learn real fast that it wasn’t going to happen. To my dismay, I looked over and noticed a couple of guys were flirting with Laura. One of them, Steve, was obviously putting the moves on her. I didn’t really care, of course, but I had to look like I did. Steve was a major wrestling stud on the varsity team with Ethan, and was accustomed to having about any girl he wanted. I could see why—he was hot as hell, with muscles bulging out everywhere. He wasn’t as built as Ethan, but he wasn’t too far behind. If his body wasn’t enough, he was one of the most attractive guys at school, with jet-black hair and steely blue eyes that made all the girls swoon. To be honest, he had a pretty pronounced effect on me, too. No question about it, he was gorgeous. Before Tay came along, I’d spent a lot of time thinking about Steve. Now, I was seeing him in an entirely different light as he put the moves on my girl. He knew she was going with me. Hell, everyone knew it! I thought for a moment that I’d found a way out of the mess I’d gotten myself into. If I let him steal her away, I wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I couldn’t do that. It’d make me look like a wimp, and everyone would wonder why I didn’t do anything. Before long, everybody at school would get suspicious and I’d be right where I was before Tay and I took up our ‘girlfriends.’ Besides, I didn’t take shit from anybody, and Steve making a play for my girl right in front of me was like a slap in the face. I stepped out of the water and angrily marched toward Steve. I couldn’t believe what he was doing, and right in front of all my friends! It was an outright challenge. I wondered what the fuck he thought he was pulling. The closer I got, the madder I became. I think the crowd realized it, too. I could see a lot of them watching as I approached. I was hot. Before I could even stop myself, I walked up to Steve and shoved him away from Laura. I knew I was acting like Neanderthal Man, but once I get pissed, I start losing control real fast. “Back off, fucker!” yelled Steve. “You back off!” I yelled right back. A crowd gathered around us. They were waiting for a fight and were likely to get one. I was too bullheaded to back away and Steve wasn’t likely to back off either. We were both jocks with reputations to protect. Backing off would’ve been the smart move for me. Those bulging muscles of Steve’s weren’t just for looks. I was pretty strong, but he was undoubtedly stronger. He had a good three inches on me in height
and probably weighed twenty or thirty pounds more, all of it muscle. He was a top-notch wrestler, too— something I knew next to nothing about. I would quite likely get my ass kicked if we tangled, but I wasn’t about to back down. I could feel Tay standing behind me, but he didn’t interfere. He knew it was my fight and that I wouldn’t want him to step in. We seemed to instinctively know what the other was thinking. Steve was pretty intimidating. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and the muscles of his torso flexed with his slightest movement. His bulging biceps were a sign of just how hard he could punch. If I had any sense at all, I would’ve gotten the hell out there. I was pissed, however. No way was I gonna back down. “Come on guys, stop!” cried Laura. “Mark, stop!” I ignored her. We just stood there, glaring at each other. Steve probably stared a lot of guys down. He probably awed them with his strength. But not me. “Bring it on, Mark,” he said, motioning me toward him with his fingers. “Come on, man, and I’ll kick your ass.” That was it. I was gonna fuck him up bad, or get beat senseless trying. I growled and flew into him, my fist smashing into his jaw before he even saw it coming. I punched him again, this time in the stomach, but he surprised me by knocking me upside the head. That dazed me a little, but I jammed my fist into his face
again. His head snapped back and I landed a quick right. Steve was tough. He took the pain and just kept coming at me. Our fists flew. Steve got me in the left eye. I knew I’d have a black eye in the morning. In a blur, he smashed me in the face with a powerful right and busted my lip. I swear it loosened my teeth. He followed that with a fist in the stomach, and I doubled over, but then quickly returned the favor, my fist contacting with his hard abs with a satisfying thump. Steve rushed me and slammed me to the ground. We rolled around on the sand, fists flailing, beating the shit out of each other. Steve let loose a small, derisive laugh and smirked at me. I flew into a rage. All I could think about was beating him senseless. I didn’t care how much I hurt him. I was totally out of control. I tore into him; punching him so fast he didn’t have time to recover. In seconds he was on his back and I was on top of him, pounding him. I rammed my fist into his face, his chest, and his stomach. I went wild. Steve stopped trying to hit me and desperately tried to protect himself from the blows. I was all over him. I was in such a rage I wanted to kill him! I smashed him over and over until finally, some of the guys pulled me off him. Even then, I fought to get at him. They held me back, however, until I calmed down a bit. Steve pulled himself to his feet and limped away. The guys holding me didn’t let go until Steve’s buddies had put him into a car and driven away.
“Mark—your lip!” said Laura. She was all concerned. “I’m okay,” I said, wiping the blood off my face. “You really kicked his ass,” said Brandon . I grinned. I guess I did kick his ass. I couldn’t quite believe I’d managed it. By all rights, Steve should’ve mopped up the beach with me. I guess I just got lucky—either that, or my out-of-control temper just overpowered his strength and determination. Either way, I didn’t want to experience it again. My whole body hurt like hell. The excitement was over and everyone went back to goofing around. I knew I’d be the talk of the school on Monday morning. Laura looked impressed and worried, and so did Taylor . Tay was looking me over, making sure I wasn’t more hurt than I appeared to be. Laura was fawning over me. I must admit, I was kind of proud of myself. I know fighting shouldn’t be the answer, but sometimes it is. By any rights, Steve should have whipped my ass with ease, but I managed to take him. I was pleased with myself over that, plus the fact that I hadn’t backed down when I really thought he was going to beat the shit out of me. Well, I guess he did beat the shit out of me, but I still won. A lot of the guys, and the girls, were impressed as well. I could tell just by the way they looked at me and the comments they made. Jon led me off to the bathhouse to clean up. My busted lip had made a pretty
nasty mess. It wasn’t really all that bad—it just looked terrible. Jon couldn’t resist talking to me about the fight as I washed the blood off my face. “Way to go, Mark!” “Thanks.” “I wouldn’t have put up with that shit either, not if he was messing with my girl. Well, if I had a girl, that is!” he said laughing. No one else could overhear us, so I asked him something that had been on my mind. “You dated Laura before, didn’t you?” “Yeah, about a year ago. We weren’t too compatible.” “What did you think about her mom?” “Well, she was okay I guess—kind of pretty. Why?” Jon looked at me kind of confused. “Did she ever... I mean, did she ever act... odd, when you were around her?” “What do you mean?” I looked around to make sure we were alone, even though I knew we were. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone about this, anyone.” “Okay, I promise. What’s the big deal?” “Well, I’m not exactly sure, but I think Laura’s mom wants me.”
“What for? To mow her lawn?” I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean!” “No, I don’t.” It was clear by the look on his face that he really didn’t understand. I thought it was pretty damned obvious. “I mean, she wants me! She wants my body.” “You’re shittin’ me!” Jon looked completely dumbfounded. I sighed. “No! I’m not even sure, but... well, I’m pretty sure.” “What did she do?” I told Jon about the whole thing. It had really been bugging me. Just before we came to the lake, I was alone with Katie for just a few minutes while I was waiting on Laura. She was practically undressing me with her eyes. My shoulders were real stiff, and when I casually mentioned it she started rubbing them. Her hands even wandered down onto my chest. Luckily, Laura came into the room before her mom had time to do much and I made my getaway. It made me more suspicious than ever. Hell, the way she touched me pretty much removed all doubt. “You dog, you!” Jon said, laughing his head off. “Laura and her mother!” “It’s not funny!” I protested. He could tell I was kind of upset, so he stopped kidding around.
“It sounds to me like she wants you, Mark. If you’re not interested in older women, I’d stay clear of her.” I nodded. “That’s my plan. So she never came onto you, or looked you over or anything?” I asked. He thought for a moment. “No. Well, she did look at me sometimes, but I think that’s all she was doing. I don’t think she was after me or anything. I guess I just don’t have what you’ve got, Mark.” “Thanks a lot,” I said sarcastically. “Gee—all the women want you, Mark.” Jon was half-kidding, half-serious. “Yeah,” I said, “it’s a curse.” Little did Jon know that I really thought of it that way. “May I be cursed like that,” he wished out loud. With his looks, I was sure his wish would probably come true someday. *** My parents weren’t too happy when I got home. I had to tell them the whole story of what happened. Dad didn’t say so in front of Mom, but I knew he was proud, just by the way he looked at me. Mom took me into the emergency room and they stitched up my lip. It hurt like hell. I went into school Monday morning with a black eye and a swollen lip. I was right. Everyone was talking about how I kicked Steve’s ass. I wished they hadn’t
made such a big deal out of it, although the attention was kind of cool. Still, I didn’t exactly feel like a hero. I’d had time to cool down. I wasn’t mad at Steve anymore. He’d been a real dick at the lake, but that was all over. I was ready to forget the whole thing, but I wasn’t so sure about Steve. He’d gotten his ass kicked and I didn’t know if he could swallow that or not. He might feel the need to prove to everyone that he could take me. I wasn’t going to provoke him, though. I knew I was lucky at the lake. The more I thought about it, the more I realized if there was a next time, Steve would probably beat me senseless. If everyone kept going on and on about how I kicked his ass, there was no way Steve could just let it go. Like me, he had a reputation to protect. I braced myself once the school clock hit high noon, getting myself ready just in case we were going to tangle again at lunch. I was eating with Tay and some of the guys. Steve was sitting not too far away and I could tell he was still fuming over having lost the fight. I was thankful that everyone was wise enough not to mention it. Unfortunately, everyone wasn’t that wise. Randy, a dumbass junior I hardly knew, had to open his big mouth. “Hey, I heard you really kicked Steve’s ass all over the beach—didn’t you, Mark?” he said. I couldn’t believe how stupid he was. There was no way Steve could ignore that remark. The whole table got real quiet, just like in one of those westerns, right before a gunfight. I could practically hear Steve’s teeth
grinding. I wanted to pound for Randy for being such a dip-shit. I knew I was seconds away from a fight, but I tried my best to avoid it. “I’d say we kicked each other’s ass,” I said carefully. “Laura didn’t give me this busted lip or black eye!” There were a couple of nervous laughs at the table. I was hoping to make peace with Steve. If I acted cocky, he’d have no choice but to take me down. If I acknowledged how tough he was, maybe he might be able to let it go. “I sure as hell don’t want to tangle with him again,” I continued, looking straight at Steve. “He just about took my head off.” It was the truth and there was no shame in admitting it. My attitude had the desired effect. Steve looked at me, without anger in his eyes. I could see he had almost as many bruises and wounds on his face as I did. “You’re sure tougher than you look,” he said. I grinned. “Nah, not tougher—just pissed, and lucky as hell.” Steve actually laughed, then nodded. That was it. That was all we said. Everything was cool between me and Steve. Guys seemed to be able to settle things so much better than girls.
Taylor Mark scared the crap out of me at the beach. I couldn’t believe he went after that boy who was twice his size. I knew Mark was tough, but it looked like suicide to me. I was so worried he’d get really hurt. I wanted to beg him to back off, but I knew I couldn’t do it. It wouldn’t have been right for me to interfere either. It was Mark’s choice to make. I had to fight to keep from crying as they went at each other, ‘cause I knew Mark was getting hurt. I was shocked when Mark got the guy down on the sand and just started beating the shit out of him! I still don’t know how he managed it. I saw the look on the other guy's face—he was scared! He had a right to be. Mark was all over him. I think he would have just went right on beating him if those other guys hadn’t pulled him off. Part of me wanted to jump in and help Mark, but I knew I couldn’t. It was his fight, and I’m not so sure I’d have been of much help anyway. I’d never been in a fight, not one. I was almost sure I wouldn’t be any good at it. The mere thought of fighting kind of scared me. I must admit, I was proud of Mark. I wished he hadn’t gotten into the fight, but I was proud that he was so strong and brave. I felt like shouting to everyone, “That’s my boyfriend!”, but I wisely kept my mouth shut. Mark didn’t look so hot when the fight was done
and I feared he was really hurt. He came out of it with only a black eye, a busted lip, and some scrapes and bruises, and it could’ve been a lot worse. I hoped I didn’t have to see him get into a fight again. We left the beach early and that left me with some time alone with Stephanie—time I didn’t really want. Well, maybe part of me wanted it, but most of me was afraid that something that shouldn’t happen would happen. I knew Stephanie was out to seduce me, and I didn’t know how strong of a will I possessed. I’m sure Mark never realized when he recommended her that she’d be so willing. He seemed to think she was one of those nice, sweet girls who would get upset if I tried to go even an inch beyond kissing. Of course, Mark admitted himself that he wasn’t experienced with girls, so maybe it wasn’t such a surprise that he was wrong about Steph. Stephanie’s parents were home when we got there, but we sat on the couch together and watched television. Steph sat real close to me, right up against me, but her parents didn’t seem to mind. They were in the kitchen playing cards with some friends, practically ignoring us. At first, things were pretty calm. But after a couple of minutes, Stephanie reached out and ran her hand over my chest and stomach. Then she slipped her hand under my shirt and continued running her hand over my abs as we watched television. It made me breathe ever so slightly faster, but that wasn’t the end of my reaction. I
tried not to let it happen, but my shorts began to bulge. Being touched excited me and I just couldn’t help it. Steph smiled when she noticed, then slid her hand down over the bulge in my shorts. I moaned softly. The kitchen was behind us and no one could see below our shoulders. It still amazed me that Steph was being so bold with her parents so very near. She groped me though my shorts as we sat there. Part of me prayed that she’d stop, but part of me prayed she wouldn’t. I knew I shouldn’t be letting her do it, but it felt too good to make her stop. I just didn’t have the willpower to push her hand away. In mere moments, I was fully hard. Stephanie slipped her hand down my shorts and wrapped her hand around me like an expert. She began to slowly move her hand up and down as I fought to keep from moaning loudly. In only a couple of minutes my entire body tensed. I grabbed a pillow and moaned into it as I released the built-up tension; terrified her parents would hear me. Stephanie kept right on moving her hand up and down as I suddenly shuddered, then bucked my hips and convulsed several times. At last, I fell back on the couch, completely spent. She gently pulled her hand out of my shorts and smiled at me. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to get up and leave, but I couldn’t. I still had a big bulge in my shorts and now there was a big, sticky, wet spot on them that someone was sure to notice. I couldn’t exactly get up and leave Steph right after what she’d done either. I’m sure she thought she’d done me a major favor. In a
way, I guess she had. If I’d really been her boyfriend and wasn’t into guys, I’m sure I would have been delighted. Any boy would have loved it. It felt wonderful, but it was a terrible complication in my already difficult life. I wondered what Mark would think. I sat there close to Steph until the show we were watching ended. Her hands were on me now and then, but she didn’t repeat what she had done. I was relieved, but part of me wanted it again. I hated myself for that. I felt like I was cheating on Mark, and that’s the last thing in all the world that I wanted to do.
Scene 6
Gazing at the Stars
Mark Taylor and I didn’t have a chance to be alone together for days at a time. Our guilt forced us to spend time with our “girls” and do everything we could to make up for using them. We couldn’t think of a way to disentangle ourselves from the web of deceit we’d woven. Its grip was just too strong. It seemed that the more we struggled against it, the tighter its hold became. There was just no way out. The one time that we could be together now and then was late at night, when we were both supposed to be home in bed. Neither of us lived too far away from the school, so we usually met at the soccer fields. Late at night no one was around and we didn’t have to worry much about being spotted. We’d lay side by side looking up at the stars. The soccer field was dark and we had a clear view of the heavens. We lay there and talked about all the things we couldn’t talk about around others. I loved lying there with Tay at my side—or better yet, with him in my arms. He liked it when I held him, and I liked nothing better than being close to him. Sometimes the nights were chilly, but we kept each other warm. “You know, they say when you look at the stars, you’re looking back in time,” said Taylor wistfully. “Really?” I asked. I’d never heard of such a thing before.
“Yeah. They’re so far away that the light takes years and years to reach us—sometimes hundreds of years, sometimes thousands.” “That’s really cool,” I said, looking at the distant pinpoints in the velvety sky far above us. “Take that star there,” said Taylor , pointing to an especially bright star almost directly overhead. “What we’re seeing now could be how that star looked thousands of years ago. Just think about it: we weren’t even born yet. Neither were our parents, nor theirs. Nothing that we know even existed yet.” Sometimes Taylor could get really profound. That’s something I loved about him—the way he could get all deep and dreamy about something. I guess it was the poet in him. Taylor took my mind a lot of places it’d never been before. “Have you ever thought about telling your parents?” he asked, brushing the hair out of my eyes. I wasn’t ready for the change of topic. I had to think about it for a moment. “You mean about us?” I said. “Or just about being attracted to guys?” “Both.” “Yeah, I’ve thought about it,” I said with a sigh. “But I don’t think I could ever really do it. I know they wouldn’t understand.”
“Same here,” said Taylor . “I wish I could tell them all about you—about us. I wish they could understand and be happy for me, but I don’t think they ever could.” We sat in silence for a moment. “It hurts, doesn’t it?” I said. “Yeah.” “You know, Tay,” I said, “so many times I’ve wanted to tell my parents about you and how much I love you, and how happy I am when I’m with you. I really don’t think they could handle it, though. Mom would probably get all upset and wonder where she’d gone wrong. She’d be all worried about me. And Dad—he’d go nuts if he knew I was gay! I really think he’d hate me if he knew.” “Maybe not,” said Taylor hopefully. “Maybe not, but I think he would. He’s always making comments about ‘the queers’. He’d shit if he knew I was into guys, into one special guy.” We both grew silent again. I drew Tay closer and held him as if I could protect him from all the dangers of the world. I knew I couldn’t, but I desperately wished that I could. Nothing was more important to me than him. We lay there watching the stars, looking through space and back into time. I wondered why so many people got so upset over gays. It all seemed pretty silly to me. With all the problems in the world, why did loving anybody have to be such a big deal? Most of the world’s problems were created by overpopulation. It
was the cause of shortages, poverty, plagues, and wars. It seemed to me like people should be glad there were gays. Just think of it: thousands and thousands of people who would never reproduce! Maybe the world needed more people like that. “I wonder why they hate us,” I said out loud, almost without knowing I’d done so. Taylor looked at me, not quite certain what I meant. “I mean, I wonder why so many people are down on gays.” “Because we’re different,” said Taylor . “We dare to go against what they believe, so they think we’re dangerous or somethin’.” I shook my head sadly. “You’d think they’d have figured out by now that we aren’t.” “Ah, most of them probably know it. They just won’t admit it to themselves. They need someone to blame things on!” “Yeah,” I said, “I guess you’re right.” I was silent for a moment. “I just wish we could go someplace where being gay or straight didn’t matter—someplace with just people... you know, just people.” “Maybe someday we can find that place together,” said Taylor softly. I held him tight. Taylor turned to me and kissed me. I forgot all about the world and its problems as we kissed each other on the soccer field.
Taylor It was after 2 a.m. when I slipped noiselessly back into the house. I knew it’d be hard to get up the next morning, but the time with Mark was worth it. Being with him exhilarated me. As late as it was, I wasn’t even tired. I turned on my desk lamp and pulled out my notebook. It was where I kept all the poems that I’d written. A lot of them were unfinished, but it didn’t really matter. I don’t think anyone would ever see them away, except for Mark. He’s the only person who I’d ever let read any of them. He said they were beautiful, and I think he meant it. Mark let me have a peek at his journal, too. It was all about me and him. I actually blushed when I read how he thought I was the most beautiful boy in the world. I was a little surprised he let me read it, because it was so personal and private. But he didn’t hold anything back from me. He opened up his heart to me and told me everything that was on his mind, and I did the same with him. It felt good to have someone that I could share all my hopes and dreams with. I’d never had that before. I’d had friends, but nothing like this. Our relationship was so special, I couldn’t even put it into words. I’d tried to capture it in a poem, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t find the right words; it seemed impossible. Poets far better than me had been
writing about love for centuries, and I don’t know if any of them ever got it right, either. I felt so content after being with Mark. Tonight, we lay on the soccer field talking and dreaming. As always, we ended up making out, but we didn’t take things any further than that. Sometimes we did, but not tonight. A lot of times, just making out with Mark and feeling his body next to mine was more intensely sexual that actually having sex. Maybe that was because we loved each other so very much. The next time we met, however, I wanted to do a lot more than just make out. I had needs that were becoming more and more urgent, and I knew that Mark would be more than happy to satisfy them. I was so glad my parents had made the move to Verona from Ohio . At first, I didn’t know what to think about my new town, but then I met Mark. Once our eyes locked across the gym floor, my entire life had changed. I had never dreamed it could be so wonderful. Well, maybe I had dreamed it, but I never thought those dreams would come true. I liked my new circle of friends, too. Mark was very popular at school, and being close to him allowed me to get to know a lot of guys quickly. I loved Brandon, Mark’s best friend. I could just tell by looking at him that he was a nice guy, and I wasn’t wrong. He was easygoing, fun, and had the best jokes. He could make just about anything funny. Another reason I liked him so much is that he obviously cared a great deal about Mark. I don’t think it would be going too far to say that
Mark and Brandon loved each other—not like me and Mark, but like brothers. I would’ve almost been jealous of Brandon , but Brandon wasn’t a rival for Mark’s heart; he was just a really great friend. Jon was a lot like Brandon . He wasn’t quite as tight with Mark, but they were still pretty close. He did awesome impressions of the teachers at school, and never failed to make me laugh. Devon was pretty cool, too. He was a wild boy and played soccer with focused intensity. Devon was extremely good-looking, but he knew it and was more than a little conceited. He’d have been more attractive if he didn’t act like he thought he was so hot. Devon also got upset if things didn’t go his way, almost like a little kid. But he was mostly cool. Ethan and Jon were pretty close, like Mark and Brandon were. But Ethan was the hottie of the group, and that’s saying something. Pretty much everyone in Mark’s circle of friends was really good-looking, but Ethan... man! Neither Mark nor I could keep from stealing looks at him now and then, especially if he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His chest was tight, beautiful, and ripped with muscles. Ethan was the strongest guy I knew, and tough as could be, but he was also kind and caring and considerate. He could’ve been conceited as hell with his looks, but the fact that he wasn’t made him even more attractive. Lately, a small blond kid had been hanging out with Ethan. His name was Nathan, and I liked him a lot. He was quiet, as if he wasn’t sure he fit in or not. I could tell Ethan was working to pull him into our circle of
friends and that was cool with everyone. I felt kind of sorry for Nathan. I’d seen him around school and he always kept to himself. He always wore the same clothes, too, and I’m sure his family was poor. He always looked so very sad. But all that seemed to change since he started hanging out with Ethan. He looked much happier and even said “hi” to me whenever our paths crossed in the halls. He had some different clothes, too. I went out of my way to be nice to Nathan. He was a really sweet kid, and I had the feeling his life had been hard. Maybe it was because I was attracted to guys, but I sensed something between Ethan and Nathan. Mainly it was something in their eyes as they looked at each other. When they touched, it was always for just a moment too long, as if they secretly yearned to hold each other, but knew they couldn’t in front of others. Nathan always seemed the most happy when he was with Ethan. Even Ethan, who was usually happy, seemed even more so when Nathan was around. Mark said I was crazy, that I was just imagining it, but I wondered if Ethan and Nathan weren’t like me and Mark... There had been so much to write in my diary since I’d met Mark. I was glad I’d started an entirely new journal when we’d met. I’d have filled up the old one soon anyway, and I liked this one being just about me and Mark. I wrote down everything, because I wanted to remember every last detail of my life with the boy I loved.
I grew sleepy as I sat at my desk, so I pulled off my clothes and climbed into bed. I wished that Mark was laying there at my side. I would’ve been content just to sleep next to him. I mumbled a sleepy “Goodnight, Mark,” as my eyes closed and I drifted off. *** I smiled at Mark as he sat across from me in the cafeteria and wiggled my eyebrows. He grinned. It was as close as we could come to flirting around our friends. Ethan gave us a look that frightened me. It wasn’t angry or accusing or unfriendly in any way, but he’d seen what passed between us. He could hardly guess we were an item from our little exchange, but still, it scared me. I was terrified of being found out. He gave me a look and grinned, but I let it pass. “So, dudes,” said Jon, as he sat down with his tray, “you wanna go to the water park with me Sunday? Ethan and Nathan are goin’.” Mark looked at me. His eager expression made it obvious he wanted to go. “Sure,” I said, “sounds like fun.” “Kick ass!” said Mark. I laughed. Mark loved swimming even more than me. “I guess I’ll just spend Sunday alone, like always,” moaned Brandon , prompting all of us to turn in his
direction. I almost thought he was hurt at not being invited for a moment, but then I saw his slight grin. “Like always?” said Jon, “I guess that means you’ll be spending the day whackin’ it!” He laughed out loud. “Unless you wanna come over and blow me again,” he retorted. “I told you not to mention that in front of the guys!” said Jon, pantomiming the act with his hand. I glanced at Mark, who raised an eyebrow at me. Brandon and Jon were always goofing around. They made me laugh all the time. “Of course you’re invited, Brandon ,” said Jon. “Would I go anywhere without my sidekick?” “I thought you were my sidekick!” snapped Brandon . “Nope—you’re my sidekick, and my bitch!” “Fuck you!” “Nope—wrong again,” Jon corrected. “It’s fuck you, Brandon.” The whole table erupted in guffaws, and Mark laughed so hard, he almost choked. Sometimes the things Brandon and Jon said to each other made them seem like enemies, but there was always a smile beneath their taunts and insults. It was obvious they were good friends. ***
Sunday dawned bright and clear. Well, it was bright and clear when I got up about nine anyway. I rarely saw the dawn, as I didn’t like to rise early, especially on a Sunday. I was dressed and ready in a swimsuit and tee shirt when Jon pulled up and honked the horn. I bid my parents a quick “goodbye,” then ran out and jumped in Jon’s car. Mark and Brandon were already waiting inside. Jon pulled out almost before I was in and we were off to Ethan’s house, which was a short distance out in the country. We were just outside of town, but it was a whole other world. Ethan lived on a huge farm. There were fields of corn waiting to be harvested stretching as far as the eye could see. My attention was particularly attracted to the large barn. I’d have loved to get a look inside, but we didn’t have the time. Ethan, Nathan, and a small boy came out of the large farmhouse. I’d never seen the boy before, but I had little doubt he was Nathan’s brother. He looked just like him, only smaller—probably about eight or nine. Once our friends joined us, it was pretty crowded in Jon’s car. I crawled into the front with Jon and Mark, while Brandon, Ethan, and Nathan all got in the back. Nathan’s little brother, Dave, sat on Nathan’s lap. It was a bit of a squeeze for all of us, but no one minded. I certainly didn’t mind being pressed up against Mark. I could put my hand on his leg without anyone suspecting a thing. Mark even draped his arm around my shoulders. It was about the only place he had to rest
his arm. He gave me a little hug and I squeezed his knee in return. When we got to the water park, both Nathan and Dave looked totally overwhelmed. I knew they were poor and I was sure they’d never been to anything like it before. I was pretty impressed myself, since it was my first time there. The main attractions included water slides over four stories tall, along with a huge wave pool, food booths, games, and all kinds of stuff that just seemed to go on and on forever. We all hung out in one big group for a while, going from slide to slide. One of the first slides we hit was called The Abyss. It was a really tall, enclosed slide that dropped almost straight down until it looped up at the end, shooting us all flying through the air until we splashed to a stop in the pool below. I paired up with Mark, of course, and he sat in front of me on a little inflatable raft. I loved holding tightly onto his stomach as we careened, screaming all the way, down the slide at a blinding speed, until both of us shot out like a cannon. We came up from under the water sputtering and laughing. The day was fine and warm, but definitely not hot. One really cool thing was that the park wasn’t crowded at all. I bet that place was really packed in the summer, but we had practically no wait at any of the slides. Probably everyone thought it was going to be way too cool for swimming. It was October, after all, and it was usually pretty cold by this time of year.
I was having an awesome time; all of us were. I couldn’t even remember having so much fun, except for Halloween World. There was some pretty good scenery at the park, too. Cute, shirtless guys surrounded me! That was kind of a dream come true in itself. My eyes were always spotting some hot boy with a nice chest— definitely my kind of park! Mark’s eyes were roving, too. We had to be careful checking out hot bodies with our friends around, but I knew he was looking. We grinned at each other a lot. After awhile we split up into little groups and went our separate ways. I stuck with Mark, naturally. Mark and I eyed Ethan as he walked away. Ethan looked particularly hot in his blue swimsuit. “I want a picture of him for my wall,” I whispered, watching Ethan jog down a nearby path. “Maybe we can invite him over for a three-way,” said Mark, giggling. I raised my eyebrows. “Would you really do that?” I asked. “Nah,” he said, grinning. “Ethan’s hot, but I just want it to be you and me.” I wanted to hug him right then and there. I wanted to do some other things with him, too. Mark was gorgeous in his swimsuit. The little rivulets of water flowing down over his chest and tight abs made him look so sexy, I wanted to lick him. Uh-oh! Down, boy! I forced myself to think of other things: next week’s algebra test, and the history assignment due on Monday. We
sure wouldn’t be getting any time alone at the park. That was okay. Mark and I had fun, no matter what we did. We crossed Ethan’s path when we got to The Hurricane. I nudged Mark while we were standing in line. We were a bit behind Ethan and he couldn’t see us. If I didn’t know better, it looked like Ethan was checking out one of the lifeguards. He was trying to act real casual, but it seemed suspicious. I kind of wondered about Ethan sometimes. He didn’t fit any of the gay stereotypes, but that didn’t mean anything, since the two of us didn’t fit them either. Mark and I exchanged a look. I could tell he was wondering about Ethan, too. Over the next couple of hours, Mark and I ran from slide to slide like wild boys. I loved whooshing down all the different rides—the faster, the better. I liked the ones that Mark and I could ride double the best. It was so much fun doing it together. We screamed and yelled like crazy. We spent some time in the wave pool, too. It was really cool; the waves were about four or five feet high, and I got knocked off my feet a few times until I got the hang of jumping up at the right time. One really big wave blasted Mark. He turned to say something to me right as it hit, and it got him right in the face and took him down. I was a little worried for a moment when he came up coughing and gasping. He started laughing though, so all was cool. When we needed a bit of a break, Mark and I floated around on The Mississippi, which was a slow-moving
stream several feet across that meandered all over the water park. There were places where water showered down from waterfalls, and others where jets of air bubbled up from below. Mostly, the current just lazily carried us along as the sun shone down upon us. The sunshine felt nice and warm. The water was just a bit chilly, so if felt good to warm up. Mark and I eyed the cute lifeguards as we passed. One of them eyed us back! I caught him looking Mark over really good, just a few feet in front of me. He was looking me over, too, when I passed. I had the feeling he was gay. I smiled at him and he smiled back, almost like we were both members of a secret club. All of us met at the picnic area at about two. Ethan was supplying the food and he’d brought along quite a supply. There were bags of chips, all kinds of junkfood, snacks, cookies, soft drinks, sandwiches and just about anything else one could imagine. We all pigged out, then lay around sunning. After a short rest we started wrestling and goofing around. Ethan was clearly the best athlete there, but that was no surprise. Not only was he the strongest, but he was also on the wrestling team and was probably the best wrestler in the whole school. Mark started getting cocky after pinning Jon and then Brandon. It was funny to watch him jumping around holding his hands over his head acting like he was the master of the universe. He looked pretty damned hot, too. “Yeah! I can take anyone!” he bellowed in triumph.
“You think so?” said Ethan, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, punk! I can even take you!” Mark was so funny. “You’re full of shit, Bailey,” said Ethan, rolling his eyes. “You and Potter together couldn’t pin me!” “Uh-oh—I smell a challenge,” said Jon. Mark and Ethan stood there eyeing each other. It was all friendly, but they were calling each other out. “Okay, tough guy,” taunted Mark. “If you think you’re man enough, it’s you against me and Tay .” “All right,” said Ethan, who put down his sandwich and stood up. “You guys have five minutes to pin me.” “We’ll only need two, won’t we Taylor ?” Mark grinned at me and wiggled his eyebrows. I smiled back and nodded, but I wasn’t so sure. Mark was strong, but Ethan was a lot stronger, and I wasn’t sure how much I could add to Mark’s prowess. Even so, I was still eager to try. It looked like fun. If nothing else, I’d get a good feel of Ethan’s bod, and I just knew Mark was thinking the same thing. We were so bad! Brandon set the timer on his watch. “The winner has to pin the other’s shoulders to the ground for three full seconds. All right... go!” he said. We faced off against Ethan, carefully circling each other. I must admit that Ethan intimidated me, and I was glad it was just a friendly wrestling match. I really didn’t know what I was doing. But at least there were two of us against Ethan.
Mark made the first move. Ethan prevented him from getting the hold he wanted, but he did latch onto Ethan’s arm. I grabbed Ethan’s other arm, but Ethan lifted me right up into the air and broke my hold before we could get him down. I couldn’t believe he lifted me with one arm! Ethan turned on Mark and took him down even before I had a chance to help. Ethan had Mark on his back pretty fast. I used the opportunity to attach myself and pull Ethan off balance. We did our best to get Ethan down, but couldn’t quite manage it. He broke free once more. Ethan was amazing. The guys were all whistling and yelling. They seemed to be cheering for whoever was at a disadvantage at the moment. I heard Jon shouting Ethan’s name, and then moments later he was urging me and Mark on. I was getting all hot and sweaty, but I was having an awesome time. I made a brave lunge for Ethan and it was a mistake. He wrapped his powerful arms around my chest and pulled me down. Ethan wrestled me onto my back even though Mark was trying to pull him off. Ethan held me down and I couldn’t begin to get loose. He was unbelievably strong! His bulging muscles distracted me. When he exerted himself, Ethan looked even more muscular than ever, with deep ridges in his chest and abs. No question, the boy was ripped! Mark pulled Ethan off me and I rolled away, then somehow Mark managed to get Ethan face down on the ground. I jumped back in, and me and Mark struggled
to get Ethan on his back. We strained our guts out, but we couldn’t quite do it. All three of us were laughing a little as we wrestled and that didn’t help us. I tended to get a little weak when I laughed, and I’m sure Mark and Ethan did, too. “Two minutes left!” announced Brandon . “I knew you little weaklings couldn’t handle me,” Ethan taunted. “Oh, that’s it!” I said. Mark and I were all over Ethan. For half a minute, he tried to get up off the ground, but either Mark or I always managed to get a good hold on him. He never could quite get free. Finally, he bucked the two of us off his back like an angry bull, and we had to face him again. In seconds, he nearly had Mark pinned, and then me again, but just before he could manage it, we broke away. I tackled Ethan and actually took him down. I couldn’t believe it: I had Ethan on his back! I pounced right on his abdomen and leaned over with my hands on his shoulders. I was trying to push him down, but it was like trying to move a brick wall. Ethan looked like he was doing an ab crunch to keep his shoulders off the ground. I was amazed he could do it with me pushing down on him as hard as I could. I used all my body weight and still couldn’t get him down. Mark jumped in and pressed his hands down on Ethan’s shoulders. I dropped down on Ethan’s bare chest, pressing my body full length against his. I was
trying to force him down, but having his sweaty skin directly in my face made me nearly forgot what I was doing. The muscles in Ethan’s chest and abs were tensing and flexing with his efforts to free himself. Talk about distracting! Despite myself, I started to get aroused. I hoped Ethan didn’t notice. At last, Mark and I had one final burst of energy and Ethan’s shoulders went down on the grass. Together, we were exerting too much force and weight down on Ethan for him to hold himself up off the ground. Brandon got down to our level and pounded out the count on the grass. “One! Two! Three! He’s pinned!” he announced. Mark and I got up and ran around high-fiving the other guys, yelling “Yeah!” like we’d just won an Olympic Gold Medal. Ethan smiled as he stood up, shaking his head in disbelief, and the rest of us laughed. “In your face, loser!” I yelled to Ethan, laughing. I slapped his back, then gave him a quick hug, but immediately pulled back. I knew I shouldn’t have hugged him. I was so excited, I just couldn’t help myself. Ethan didn’t seem to think anything about it. I was relieved, but I had to be more careful. Pretty soon we all got back to the slides. Mark and I ran from one to the next, going full tilt. We ran around like crazy until it was about eight. I didn’t really want to leave even then, but I was exhausted, and it was getting cold. We all piled in Jon’s car once more and headed home. It was so crowded in the car, Mark and I
were able to snuggle up together for the whole ride home. Oh yeah! It was one great day.
Scene 7
A Fright in the Night
Mark On Saturday night, the varsity soccer team had an unofficial party in the graveyard on the outskirts of town. The idea was basically to hide out and drink beer until we puked, which sounded like fun to me—except maybe for the puking part. A few guys I didn’t know were also coming, but at least all my friends on the team would be there. I picked Taylor up and drove out about ten. I pushed all thoughts of guilt out of my mind, determined to enjoy myself. I wasn’t really that big on drinking, and neither was Tay , but I did enjoy a slight buzz. Besides, it was a chance to be with our soccer buddies, instead of our ‘girls.’ We didn’t get much time like that. Our last outing with the guys was the weekend before, when we went to that kick-ass water park. Laura and Steph understood our need to spend time with our buds; it was a guy thing. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt Taylor and I to work on our ‘regular guy’ facade. Drinking with our friends would help us avoid suspicion. Everyone knew gay guys weren’t into beer! What a joke. A little past 10 p.m. , Tay and I parked a good distance from the graveyard and walked the rest of the way; everyone was supposed to do that. Having a big bunch of cars parked by the cemetery would definitely draw unwanted attention. I pulled back the heavy iron gate and it groaned in protest. The place looked
deserted. The party was supposed to be deep into the graveyard, on the far side just before the edge of the forest, which would help us avoid detection. If we got caught, we’d be up shit creek. Some people had no tolerance for kids just trying to have a good time. I’m no coward, but the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up as Tay and I walked between the ancient, moss-covered stones. Taylor took my hand and held it tight. I pulled him close, protecting him from the terrors of the dark. My own fears dissolved as I sought to comfort him. I was his protector. Besides, I teased myself, vampires shouldn’t be afraid of the night. I didn’t know why I was so jumpy in the first place. I guess I thought some moldering ghoul might try to reach out to grab us from the grave. This place was so dark, it gave new meaning to the phrase “as black as night.” What little illumination the moon cast was dimmed by tattered clouds drifting overhead, like something right out of a bad horror movie. I glanced over and saw fear in Taylor ’s eyes— not stark terror, but an edgy look. I looked around to make sure no one was there, then pulled Taylor close and kissed him. A second later we both jumped at a freaky sound coming from somewhere near a brokendown crypt; I don’t know which scared the shit out of us more—because we thought we’d been caught necking, or because of any ghosts. After we both giggled with relief, we agreed: it was spooky out there. The trees cast odd shadows in the dim light. Some of them looked like bony fingers, while others looked like
twisted figures standing in the darkness. There was a slight breeze and it made the trees creak, sounding for all the world like a coffin opening. As we picked our way through the tombstones and mausoleums, I was beginning to think that we’d been had. Maybe there really was no party, and the guys had just sent us into a graveyard at night for a joke! Just then I heard laughing in the distance. We followed the sound and in a few moments we found our buddies. The party was in full swing. “Hey, Tay !” said Brandon . He was already swaying a little. “What’s happening, Mark?” asked Jon. Devon tossed us each a beer and we sat in a circle with the other guys. A lantern cast a golden glow on our young faces. We laughed and talked about everything— soccer, football, girls, and mostly nothing at all. The more everyone drank, the more they laughed, and the more they talked about nothing. It didn’t matter, everything was funny. It wasn’t long at all before some of our teammates were downright drunk. Devon climbed to the top of a large monument and perched there, claiming to be ‘king of the graveyard.’ Greg turned up the radio he’d brought and the old cemetery was filled with loud music. “Turn it down dude!” yelled Devon . “You wanna wake ‘em all up?” He gestured to the graves all around us and laughed, nearly falling off his perch.
Greg laughed, and then turned it down a bit. I shook my head. I was getting a nice buzz—definitely all warm and cozy and happy. Still, I tried not to drink too much. I didn’t want to get wasted like the other guys. My parents would shit a brick if I came in drunk. Taylor was a little far-gone too, more so than me. He seemed to have even a lower tolerance for alcohol than I did, and mine wasn’t too great. I rarely drank and beer hit me pretty hard. I was smart enough to avoid the harder stuff that was being passed around—well, at least for the most part. “You guys know where we are?” asked Jon, pointing towards the ground in front of us. “That’s where old man Swensen bought it—right where we’re sitting. Swear to God.” All of us grew quiet. Jon was getting ready to tell one of his scary tales. He had a reputation for that; something about the sound of his voice, and the way he told a story, inspired terror in his listeners. He’d hardly started and the hair on the back of my neck was standing on end. Of course, being in the middle of a graveyard probably had something to do with that. Nowhere was a ghost story more frightening than among the dead. “They found him out here a few years ago, stiff as a board and white as a sheet.” “What happened?” asked Ethan, as he sat by Jon’s side.
“I gotta take a piss,” said Taylor as he leaned over to me. I knew he was getting drunk. He was usually too shy to say anything like that. He pulled himself to his feet, holding onto my shoulder to keep from falling. He was a little unsteady. He walked off, balancing himself by gripping tombstones as he went on his way. Jon continued his tale. All eyes were on him, most of them wide with fear. “They say he just died of a heart attack, but everyone knows that’s not what really happened. His wife’s buried right over there,” he said pointing to a grave some of the guys were near. “He was real mean to her when she was alive. They say he beat her; some even say he murdered her. Anyway, I heard that he was walking through the graveyard close to midnight , half drunk, and when he walked past his wife’s grave, a hand reached out and grabbed him!” Jon yelled loud when he said that, and a lot of the guys screamed. I jumped, even though I knew he was going to do it. In our current surroundings, Jon’s tale was a lot more frightening than it would’ve been during the light of day. “You just about made me shit my pants!” complained Ethan. Jon smiled, and went on. “She pulled herself out of her grave, holding onto his ankle. He screamed bloody murder, but there was no one living to hear him. She pulled him to the ground and climbed on top of him—her fetid stench making
him sick, maggots falling from her face. Her bony, putrid fingers closed around his neck and she squeezed the life out of him as she kissed his face with her rotting lips. When he was finally dead, she crawled back in her grave. A few days later, the police found him where she’d killed him, but nobody could figure out why the dirt was torn up around her tombstone. They say she pulls herself from her grave whenever anyone disturbs it, and she strangles them with her rotting, putrid fingers.” Some of the guys sitting near the grave edged away, as if they were fearful she might reach out for them— even though they knew Jon was probably making the whole thing up. Taylor still hadn’t returned when Jon finished his story. I was beginning to get a little worried. Maybe he was sick or something. I got up and dusted off the seat of my pants. “I’ll be back in a minute, guys. I want to get out of here before Jon starts the inevitable ‘hook on the car door’ story.” “Oh, that’s a good one,” said Jon. “This young couple were parked on a dark country lane, getting it on...” I slipped away as Jon spun his tale. I found Taylor about a hundred feet away, staring at a large tombstone on a hill, covered with moss.
“Hey, Mark. Look at this,” he said, pointing to a small picture on the stone. “When you move, the eyes follow you.” “Sure thing, Taylor ,” I said. “Let’s go back.” Taylor looked a little weird in his semi-inebriated state. He was just a little too relaxed, but hell, so was I. Before I even realized what was happening, he grabbed me and kissed me. He started tugging at my shirt. “Whoa, Taylor ,” I said. “Not here.” Taylor nodded and let me lead him back to the party. He leaned up against a tombstone and grabbed another beer. I was getting afraid of what he might do. Drinking seemed to change him—make him more aggressive and outgoing. It wasn’t Taylor that fucked up at the party, however—it was me. I knew it was stupid, but I kept on drinking. Everyone was doing it and it just seemed like the thing to do. I felt my inhibitions lower and along with them went my common sense. It was getting a little chilly and I snuggled up against Tay . Pretty soon I had my arm around him and was practically in his lap. I leaned over and whispered to him, my lips barely an inch from his ear. Taylor turned to face me and our lips brushed against each other. We didn’t kiss, but gazed into each other’s eyes. My hand wandered onto his leg. I was rubbing his thigh without even thinking about it. “What are you fags doin’?” yelled Devon .
I pulled away from Taylor in a flash. Devon was pointing down at us. All I could think was Oh fuck! I’ve done it now! “What’s all the noise about?” asked Jon. Now everyone was looking in our direction. “Mark and Taylor were all over each other! They’re fags, dude!” Neither Taylor nor I said a word. We were fucked. “You’re drunk,” said Jon, dismissing him. Devon was a little unsteady on his feet. He had the distinct look of someone who was about to barf. He stood there, just staring at us. “I still think they’re fags.” “In the condition you’re in, you wouldn’t know a fag if he bit you!” yelled Brandon . He laughed so hard at his own joke; he fell right off the tombstone he’d been sitting on. “Bite me and we’ll see!” said Devon . That got all the guys laughing. The guys started talking again and didn’t pay much attention to me and Taylor. Devon kept eyeing us with a look of distaste on his face. I knew it was too early to leave, but in my condition, I’d probably do something else stupid. I pulled Tay up and quietly led him away from the party. We’d done enough damage for one night. I was so wasted, I don’t even remember taking Taylor home. I woke up the next morning with a bad headache and a sense of panic in my gut.
As things turned out, we were lucky. Devon didn’t mention the incident at all on Monday at school. I don’t know if he just didn’t remember what happened (a distinct possibility) or if he just chalked it up to his drunken state. My memory was a little fuzzy too, but I knew I’d almost exposed myself and Taylor to our buddies. It was the only time I’d ever drank heavily, and I’d almost ruined my life. I’d narrowly avoided disaster, and I wasn’t about to make that mistake again. After that one little incident, everything was cool. Taylor and I even started to find a little time to spend together alone. Our ‘girlfriends’ took up most of our time, but we managed at least one evening a week with each other, sometimes more. Occasionally we worked in some time on the weekends too, and of course, we also spent a lot of late nights together on the soccer field watching the stars.
Taylor It was a little after midnight when Mark brought me home from the party in the graveyard. I knew we’d come close to disaster, but I was still buzzing from the alcohol, so it didn’t make that much of an impression on me just then. I was kind of tipsy and feeling fine. I was also in the mood to get it on, but I didn’t mention it to Mark, because he seemed upset. If he hadn’t been... Mmmm. I needed him bad, but it’d just have to wait. Less than five minutes after I turned my bedroom light out, I heard someone tapping on my window. I hoped it was Mark, but when I opened it, I found Stephanie instead. “I saw your light,” she said breathlessly. “Can I come in?” “Um, my parents might hear. I better come out instead.” I threw on some pants and a shirt and shimmied out the window, and Stephanie and I walked in the moonlight. She had to steady me a bit now and then because I was still having trouble keeping my balance. Out of habit, we walked towards the school. “Have you been drinking?” she asked. “Yeah!” I said, a little too loud. “I didn’t think you drank!”
“I don’t,” I actually giggled. “Well, I don’t usually, but I did tonight! I feel good.” “You certainly do,” said Steph as she pulled me closer and put her arm around my waist. I wasn’t sure, but I felt like I was getting more and more drunk, even though I’d stopped drinking some time before. Maybe it took awhile for alcohol to catch up with me. I didn’t know. “Maybe I should take advantage of you while you’re drunk,” said Stephanie. If I hadn’t been in an impaired state, I would’ve noted the tone in her voice that said she wasn’t kidding. If I hadn’t been so out of it, I’d have ran. “Do it!” I moaned, my words slurring slightly. “I’m so fuckin’ horny!” “Whoa, Taylor —you’re out of it, aren’t you?” said Stephanie as she smiled wickedly. Stephanie led me to the football field, under the bleachers. She pulled me to her and kissed me. I kissed her back. Mark and I hadn’t been able to be together for a few days, and I was burning up with desire. I didn’t object when Stephanie pulled my shirt off and began rubbing her hands all over my chest and abs. I was rock-hard in seconds. Everything was kind of spinning in and out of focus. I was guided more by instinct than by rational thought. If I hadn’t been out of it, I would’ve slowed things down, but as I was, I didn’t have the sense to do it. I
desperately needed to get off any way I could, so I let Stephanie do whatever she wanted. It wasn’t long before my jeans were around my ankles and Stephanie’s hand was down my boxers. It felt so good, I moaned. We stood under the bleachers, making out, while she moved her hand up and down in my boxers. Before I knew what was happening, she dropped to her knees, pushed down my boxers, and leaned in. When her mouth enveloped me, I almost cried out, not even caring if anybody heard us. I stood there and let her work her magic. Her lips felt so good sliding up and down that I didn’t have the willpower to make her stop. I moaned. I was a slave to her talented mouth. In a blur, we were both naked and I was laying on top of Stephanie. I was so worked up, I just went for it. In moments, I was inside her, moaning and breathing hard. I did her right there under the bleachers. I didn’t think of anything while I thrust in and out of her, except that it felt so good. In a few minutes, I was panting and my entire body tensed, then convulsed as I experienced a climax so intense, I nearly blacked out. Perhaps I did black out for a while, because I didn’t remember anything for a bit. Suddenly, I opened my eyes and saw that I was laying naked beside Stephanie on the grass. “That was so wonderful, Taylor ,” she whispered, brushing my hair with her hand. “I’ve been wanting that for so long. You’re magnificent. I love you so much.”
Even in my inebriated state, I felt like a rat. I knew Stephanie wanted what had just happened, but I still felt like I’d taken advantage of her. The knowledge of what I’d just done sobered me up a little. What would Mark think when I told him? Shit, what was I thinking? I wanted to blame it all on being drunk, but the truth was I knew what I was doing. I was horny, Stephanie wanted it, so I gave it to her. I thought with my balls instead of brain, and I’d done something that would hurt both Stephanie and Mark. I nearly cried when I thought about how hurt Mark would be. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” I said woozily, pulling my clothes back on. “I really need to go home.” Stephanie helped me home and I climbed through the window and nearly fell on the floor. When she’d gone, I lay face down on my bed and cried. I’d betrayed Mark. I loved him with all my heart. How could I have done what I just did? Why hadn’t I stopped myself? Did I have that little self-control? Sure, it’d been good with Stephanie, but it was a hundred times better with Mark! I knew that. I loved Mark and I wanted to spend my life with him. Fuck. What had I done? I was out of it when I’d climbed on Steph, but I could’ve stopped myself. Why didn’t I stop to think, even for a moment? If I had, I’d never have had sex with her. I cried harder. I felt so guilty, I wanted to die. I decided right then and there that I had to end things with Stephanie. Mark could keep dating Laura to keep up appearances, but I had to break up with Stephanie as
fast as possible. That thought hurt me because I really cared for her. I knew she’d be hurt and upset, and the timing was horrible, too. I’d just had her, and now I was going to dump her. A lot of guys could fuck a girl and think nothing about it, but I wasn’t that way. And for a girl—it was so different. Most of them regarded the act of sharing their love with a guy as something very special, and that guy was very special for the rest of their lives. I’m sure Steph was like that. I really didn’t want to hurt her. If I could tell her the truth, maybe she’d understand then. I cared about Stephanie, I loved her, but I loved Mark far more. If things had been different, maybe I could’ve even been happy with her, but they weren’t different. Mark was the one. I loved him so much it hurt. I couldn’t live without him. I had no choice but to end things with Stephanie. I couldn’t keep seeing her. Too much would happen if I did. Every time I so much as kissed her, I felt like I was cheating on Mark, and tonight had been the biggest betrayal of all. I hated myself for it. Mark would be so hurt when I told him what I’d done, and I couldn’t bear to do that. As I lay there on my bed, crying, I decided that I’d protect him from that hurt. I’d never tell him—I knew it’d break his heart. I didn’t like the idea of keeping a secret from him, but this was one I needed to keep. I knew deep down that Mark would eventually forgive me for what I’d done, but I knew it’d still tear him up inside. I couldn’t do that to him. I’d keep this one secret and I’d make sure it never had the chance to happen again. I’d break up with Stephanie and never so much as touch her again. I
hated doing that to Steph, but there was just no other way. My heart belonged to Mark and I would never, ever take the chance of betraying him again. I’d keep what I’d done a secret from the one I loved, and I vowed I’d pay for that by never, ever letting anything like this happen again. I cried myself to sleep that night. I knew I’d done something very wrong. It hurt all the more because I knew my actions would hurt two people I loved. I swore to myself that, from now on, I’d be the best boyfriend in the world. I’d be so loyal, I wouldn’t so much as even hug anyone but Mark. I loved him. He was my world, and I intended to make sure he knew it.
Act 3
The Beginning of the End
Scene 1
The Dream Becomes a Nightmare
Mark Just when everything seemed to be going just right, my whole world collapsed. I was in heaven, then suddenly hell. It all started out well and innocently enough. Taylor came over to my house about ten on a warm Sunday morning. Mom even made us blueberry pancakes for breakfast. We sat at the kitchen table and ate and talked. I could tell Mom really liked Taylor . Of course, what was not to like? Taylor was always polite and kind. Around my mom, he was downright charming. I think she was about ready to adopt him! She was always going on about him when he wasn’t there. After breakfast, Taylor and I went to my room. We messed around on the computer for a while, mainly playing my soccer game. I was lucky to have a computer. Almost nobody at school had one; the Commodore 64 was kick-ass! After Tay whipped my butt at soccer, we sat on my bed and listened to a few records. I gazed into Taylor ’s eyes. I was so in love with him. He was so beautiful. He told me he was going to break up with Stephanie, just because he felt guilty when he was with her! I told him he didn’t have to do that, but he insisted. We discussed it and decided that maybe if I kept dating Laura, it’d be enough to keep everyone from guessing about me and Tay . Secretly, I was kinda
glad that Tay and Steph wouldn’t be “dating” anymore. I knew Taylor had kind of a thing for Stephanie, and I couldn’t help but be a little jealous. I got up for a moment and latched my door. I turned back to Taylor and his eyes locked onto mine. I sat down by him again and drew him close. We hugged, and then kissed. We sank back onto my bed and made out for about half an hour. There was nothing more wonderful than being with my Taylor . Finally, I came up for air. “We’d better stop,” I said, after we’d been going at it for a good, long time. “You want to stop?” asked Taylor mischievously. “No,” I said, smiling, “but we’d better anyway.” We both laughed and nuzzled our noses together. Being with Taylor made me so happy. Even better, being with me made Taylor happy. After making out on my bed, we both needed to burn off some excess energy. My shorts were so tented in my excitement that we had a wait a few minutes before we could leave the room. I noticed that Tay ’s shorts were tented just as much as mine. It made me want to push them down and drop to my knees in front of him! Instead, I grabbed a soccer ball and we headed outside. My parents had a large backyard, and years before, my dad had set up a soccer goal for me so I could practice. Tay and I took turns as goalie, while the other tried to score. Both of us did a lot of scoring, since neither of us was a very good goalie. I’d trained myself so thoroughly not to use my hands that I was
uncomfortable doing so to stop the ball. It didn’t matter, ‘cause we still had fun. We got really hot out there, even though it was a cool day, and soon we pulled off our shirts. That let Tay score on me even more. The sight of his bare chest, gleaming with sweat, distracted me more than I can describe. I couldn’t keep my mind on the ball. I found myself gazing dreamily at his beautiful form instead. “Mark!” my mom called me from the house. “Just a sec, Tay .” I ran up to the house, talked to Mom, then quickly ran back to Taylor . “My parents are going to the mall, then a movie. They asked if we wanted to come, but I told ‘em we’d just stay here. That’s okay isn’t it? If it’s not, we can still catch them.” He grinned. “Yeah. I’d definitely rather be alone with you.” Tay suddenly kicked the ball and it hurtled past me into the goal, and he danced and waved his hands up in the air. “Hey! That one doesn’t count!” I protested. “But the next one will!” I took up a defensive stance. I tried to focus on the ball, but all I could really concentrate on was Taylor ’s lithe form. After getting the ball past me several times, he smiled at me wickedly. He knew exactly what was happening!
After that, he’d stop every so often to run his hand over his bare chest or fondle the bulge in his shorts, all while leering at me. Once, he even kicked the ball, and then bent over in front of me to distract me! I renewed my efforts to ignore him and just concentrate on stopping the ball, but it was no use. Tay was getting really cocky. He had a smirk on his face that just wouldn’t go away. After he scored on me yet again, he broke out in laughter. I playfully grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground. The physical contact with his firm, sweaty body made me yearn to be alone with him as we had been during our away game and a handful of times after that. I was still all worked up from making out with him earlier, and I didn’t seem to be able to calm back down. We broke off our wrestling match before things went too far and the neighbors started to wonder about us. Anybody taking a good look at my bulging shorts would instantly know what I was thinking about! Tay took the goal and I scored on him time after time, pulling the same tricks on him. Now, I wasn’t the only one distracted. I enjoyed his predicament and the attention. It made me feel good about myself, knowing what was going through Taylor ’s mind as he looked at me. After an hour we were both hot, sweaty, and more than a little smelly. Our bodies were covered with mud and grass stains, streaked by the streams of sweat running down our torsos. We went inside and climbed the stairs to my room.
“Whew, I really need a shower,” said Taylor . I looked at him and wrinkled my nose, “Yeah—I’d say.” “Hey, you aren’t exactly smellin’ like roses, either!” “You can use my shower,” I laughed, nodding towards the bathroom. “There are towels in the closet. I’ll use the one downstairs.” “Sure you wouldn’t want to join me?” he asked coyly. I thought for a moment. I definitely wanted to, but I knew I had to maintain control. We were in my house, but it was also my parents’ house. He started undressing by my bed. “Don’t tempt me!” I called over my shoulder, as I ran downstairs, stripped, and climbed into the shower. The hot water felt so good as it beat down upon me. I probably should’ve been taking a cold shower, considering the way I was all heated up! I couldn’t help but imagine Taylor ’s naked body, less than twenty feet above me upstairs. That sure didn’t help me cool down any! I was in love with him, and the mere sight of him aroused me. Thinking about how he must look, with hot, steaming water pounding down on his young, hard body was almost more than I could take. My breath was coming fast and hard and my heart pounded away like a jackhammer in my chest. I lathered up my hair and ran the soapy washcloth all over my sweaty body. That didn’t help me calm down either. It seemed that everything I did just aroused me
more. For a fleeting moment, I thought about just jerking off in the shower to get myself under control, but instead I opted to just crank up the cold water. Sure enough, the frigid temperature doused my flames in under a minute and I rinsed off, and then dried myself with a towel. I didn’t want to put my sweaty, dirty clothes back on, so I just wrapped a towel around my waist and went back upstairs. I was rummaging through my dresser for something to wear when Tay stepped out of the bathroom. He took my breath away: his hair was wet and hung down perfectly straight, brushing his shoulders, and like me, he was just wearing a towel. I couldn’t keep from running my eyes down his smooth, firm body, even though I knew it would drive me out of my mind with desire. I loved him and I desperately wanted him. I forgot all about finding something to wear and stepped towards Tay . I pulled him roughly towards me and kissed him. His lips tasted so sweet I wanted to devour him; I caressed his tongue with mine as we made love with our lips. I sighed with contentment and hugged him so hard I almost crushed him. I was totally, completely in love with him. We were alone, the house was empty, and our hearts were pounding so hard we could actually hear them. We’d started something that couldn’t be stopped. Taylor pressed his hard, naked torso against mine. I could feel the muscles of his chest pressing into my
own. He was so beautiful—the very essence of young manhood. I pressed my lips to his and kissed him passionately again. It awoke within me a primal urge that couldn’t be denied. I could’ve kissed Tay forever. I felt so safe, secure, and loved when I was in his arms. Our chests pressed hard against each other, and I ran my hands down his back, then lower still. Tay ’s wet hair clung to his face, and our towels fell to the floor. We pressed ourselves against each other, enjoying the closeness, intimacy, and hardness. Our lips parted and I pulled Tay to my bed. We lay down upon it, our lips meeting once more. Our hands sought out each other’s bodies, and we began to express our love with actions the way we did so often with words. Being with Tay was a dream come true—more than that, he was my reason for living. Without him, I was lonely, miserable, an outsider to the world. With him I was loved, happy, and whole. Our lovemaking was the most beautiful thing in the world. It wasn’t just sex; it was far, far more. Only someone who deeply loves another could understand. Everything we did was an expression of love for the other. And, oh, how I loved Tay . I held him so tight against me, I nearly squeezed the life out of him. He returned my embrace with equal intensity. Knowing that his love for me equaled my own love was the most important thing in the universe. Our hands and lips were everywhere, exploring every inch of our bodies. Our hearts pounded, our pulse
quickened, our breath came hard and fast. In minutes, we were covered with a thin mist of perspiration. Tay was so beautiful. I licked my way down his slim, firm torso and buried my face between his legs. He moaned as I drew him in and sent him into orbit. I loved him so much that I wanted to prove how much I loved him. “ Tay ,” I whispered, pausing for just a moment, “I think it’s time we take things farther. I... I want you inside me.” Tay actually moaned with happiness. We’d both been waiting for this moment and finally the time seemed just right. I stood on hands and knees on the bed as Tay positioned himself behind me. I was nervous, afraid, but I wanted to feel Taylor ’s manhood within me. I wanted us to be one. “You ready?” asked Taylor . I closed my eyes. “I’m ready.” “I love you, Mark.” “I love you too, Taylor .” I held my breath and tensed as Tay put his hands on my back and pressed gently against me, then I cried out as he began to push. “Did I hurt you?” he asked. I spoke through clenched teeth. “Just a little. It’s okay, but... take it easy for a bit. I’ve... I’ve never done this before.” I moaned as I felt more of Taylor slip inside me. I relaxed. After a few moments, the pain lessened and
was slowly replaced with pure pleasure. The feeling was indescribable. We were joined. I felt like we were a part of each other. Soon, there was no reason for Tay to take it easy and he didn’t. We moaned and whimpered in pure bliss. Tay and I were one. My entire body was an explosion of rapture. Tay awakened feelings and sensations in me that I never thought possible. Our lovemaking went beyond what it’s possible to describe. It felt so good I thought I’d die. We’d waited a long time to make love, and I wanted to do it over and over again. Now that I’d taken Tay in me, I never wanted it to end; it seemed as if it would last forever. Taylor kept going and going and I enjoyed every second of it. We were tireless young men, so involved with each other, so in love, that we couldn’t stop. I’d never even begun to imagine how wonderful it could feel to have Taylor slide his manhood deep inside me. I knew that it’d feel good for him, but I had no idea that it’d feel so incredible for me, too. I wanted it as much as Tay , but I’d wanted it because I knew it’d be pure bliss for him. I never dreamed it’d feel even better for me. I had the feeling I was going to blast off like a rocket, without even touching myself. Taylor was wild and intense as he leaned into me. He was careful not to hurt me, but he was still very forceful. Despite his sweet and kind nature, he was very dominant in bed. No one, myself included, would’ve ever guessed how forceful he could be. It seemed such a contrast to his quiet, sensitive personality. I suppose I
was a contrast as well. Back at school, I was outgoing and aggressive, but when I made love with Tay , I was almost submissive. Somehow, I liked the way things were between us. It just seemed right. It was wonderful. Tay and I were sweating and panting. We were totally absorbed in our lovemaking. Taylor was putting everything he had into it, almost like some kind of wild animal. I wanted it to last forever, but I knew I was on the verge of losing control. I could tell from Taylor ’s frantic thrusts and moans that he was, too. It was all so beautiful, it was like a dream. I’d never been so happy as I was at that moment. Suddenly, it happened. Just as Tay cried out in ecstasy, the door to my bedroom burst open and my father entered. He didn’t bother to knock, and I hadn’t thought to lock the door. I’ve lamented my stupidity ever since that horrible day. “Mark, could you.... My God! What the fuck’s going on in here?” Tay and I were naked on my bed. Tay was on me and in me, he was moaning in the throes of his orgasm and couldn’t stop. There was no way to deny what was going on. Tay stared at my father, his face etched in horror, then leaped off the bed and bolted for the bathroom. Tears ran down his face as he sought to escape from my father, who nearly snagged him as he ran past. Only a quick dodge on Tay ’s part allowed him to evade my father’s wrath. He slammed and locked the bathroom door, crying, “Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” and “Oh my God!” over and over again.
I rolled over and covered my nakedness with the sheets as my father screamed at me in rage. He was completely out of control. “What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?” he bellowed. “How could you do this under my roof?” I’d never seen him that furious before. He turned and pounded on the bathroom door. “Come out of there, you little faggot!” he screamed. “Come out of there right now!” Taylor didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t about to come out of there. I wouldn’t have either. While Dad was pounding on the door, I used the opportunity to pull on my boxers. When Tay wouldn’t open the door, Dad turned back on me with murder in his eyes. I really thought my own father was going to kill me, really kill me—not just beat the crap out of me, but kill me. “How could you... You were...” He shook his head with disgust, unable to continue. “My God!” My mom ran into my room, wondering what all the noise was about. “What’s going on in here?” she asked, her face etched with concern. Dad pointed at me as if I was a leper. “Why don’t you ask your faggot son—or his faggot friend in the bathroom!” I ran behind my mom. Dad tried to get around her to get at me, but she blocked his path. If I wasn’t about to quite literally die, the scene would’ve been funny. My
dad’s a big man—about 6’4” and over 200 pounds. I was a 6’ jock and weighed about 165, while my mom was this tiny little 5’6”, 110-pound sprite of a woman. There I was: a tall, muscular soccer stud and I had to take refuge behind my tiny mom. She wasn’t half the size of my dad, but she was holding her own, stopping him in his tracks just by looking at him. It was lucky for me. She was the only thing protecting me from certain death. “Jeffery, calm down.” “Calm down!” he exploded. “Do you know what they were doing? Do you know that boy in the bathroom had his... his... up your son’s...? I can’t even say it! Right under my roof! I’m gonna kill both those little faggots!” The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I’d never been so terrified before. He really meant it! He really wanted to kill us both! “Jeffery!” Mom snapped. “Go downstairs right now! Cool off! We’ll discuss this later!” I’d never heard my mom speak with such authority. Her tone of voice scared the shit out of me and it wasn’t even directed toward me. Mom brooked no argument. Dad glared at me with a look of pure hatred and stomped off downstairs, and my mom turned to me. “Honey?” Her questioning, sympathetic voice melted my heart. I burst into tears and hugged her close. My whole world was gone! “Honey, what happened?” I was crying too hard to answer her. She stepped to the bathroom door. “ Taylor
?” she called. “It’s all right—you can come out, Taylor .” He didn’t answer, but I could hear him crying inside. Mom came back to me and sat on the bed. “Mark, honey—what happened?” Between sobs I told her about everything—about me being gay, about being in love with Tay , and about what Dad had walked in on. I’d never had to tell my mom anything so hard in all my life. Most kids cringe when they think of talking to their parents about sex. That was nothing compared to what I was telling my mom. I couldn’t believe I had the courage to speak the words. To her credit, she listened without comment, but I could tell that what she was hearing was tearing her up inside. I was breaking her heart. I was telling her that her son was gay and was having sex with another boy. I couldn’t bear to imagine what she thought of me. “But Mark, you have a girlfriend,” she said, confused. “It’s all a fake,” I admitted with a sigh. “Me and Laura, Taylor and Steph—we just pretended so no one would suspect us. Everyone thinks me and Tay have girlfriends, so they don’t suspect that we’re really boyfriends.” Mom grew real quiet. She looked at me with disapproval. She tried to hide it, but I could read it in her eyes.
“I don’t understand this, Mark. You’re such a fine young man, so handsome, so athletic— you could have any girl you want!” “Mom, I don’t want any girl. That’s the point! I’m gay, Mom.” My mother just couldn’t accept the fact that I was gay. “You’re just confused.” “No! I’m not! I’m gay, Mom, okay? I always have been, and that’s just the way it is!” I couldn’t believe what I was saying to my own mother. That thought kept going through my mind over and over. “I, I don’t... I can’t...” My mom just couldn’t comprehend what I was. “Mom, try to understand: this is what I am. This is me. I couldn’t change it if I wanted to—and I don’t want to! I love Tay !” There was a long, silent pause. I couldn’t hear Taylor crying in the bathroom anymore. I hoped he was all right. She looked up at me. “Mark, I don’t really understand all this. I just don’t know what to think. Were you... were you really doing what your father said you were doing? Was Taylor ...” “Yes, Mom. It’s all true. I’m sorry.” I didn’t say the words. I didn’t tell my mom that Tay was fucking me, but she knew. All the color drained from her face and she looked sick. I felt sick, knowing that she saw something beautiful as something disgusting and base.
Mom was really stunned, but who could blame her? I wished she hadn’t found out like this. I wished Dad hadn’t seen what he did. I wished that Mom would hold me close and tell me that everything was okay, that she loved me as I was, but she didn’t. She didn’t say anything for a long time. After a few moments, she got up and walked to the bathroom door once more. “ Taylor , open the door. No one’s going to hurt you.” I heard the lock click and the door opened. Taylor came out with a towel wrapped around his waist. My mom looked at him with disapproval, even disgust. It made me angry to see her look at the one I loved like that. I guess I should’ve been thankful that she saved my life. Taylor pulled on his boxers while still wearing the towel. He let it drop to the floor and then dressed. “I think you’d better leave, now,” said Mom, not even looking at him. Her voice was angry. It was as if she were blaming him for what had happened. Taylor ’s eyes were bloodshot from crying and tear streaks ran down his face. He looked at the door in fear, and I didn’t blame him. I wouldn’t have walked downstairs with my father sitting down there, either. Mom read his thoughts. “I’ll walk you out, Taylor . And I’ll talk to you later, Mark.” Taylor ’s eyes met mine. He looked much as I must have, like someone whose entire world had been laid waste. I could still read the love in his eyes, however, and I drew strength from that. Mom led him downstairs.
From my bedroom window, I watched Taylor depart, my heart nearly breaking as he walked away. I felt like all my hopes and dreams were leaving with him. I imagined that he was glad to escape from my house. I sure wished I could. As Taylor disappeared into the distance, I heard my parents yelling downstairs. They had argued before, but never so violently. I laid on my bed and cried into my pillow. I knew they were arguing about me. My God, why had this happened to me—to us? Why had I been so stupid? I was so afraid, and felt so alone. I didn’t know what was going to happen. I no longer feared for my life, but I didn’t know what to expect. I was afraid that they’d kick me out—then where would I go? What would I do? I didn’t have any money, had nowhere to turn. Sure, Tay would be there for me, but still... Taylor . He was all I had to hold onto. My love for him was all that kept me sane. I drew strength from it. I loved Tay and he loved me. That’s all that really mattered, after all. Still, I’d never been in such a mess before. I couldn’t even imagine anything happening that could be worse. I lay there thinking, wanting desperately to fall asleep to escape the nightmare that was my life, but sleep wouldn’t come. I was too tormented in mind and spirit to be able to escape that way. My stomach growled. I was hungry, very hungry. I hadn’t had anything since breakfast, but I wasn’t about to go downstairs. It was but a small addition to my misery. It hardly mattered. I couldn’t handle all that had
happened, I just couldn’t. It was far too much. Thoughts of killing myself went through my mind. Maybe it would’ve been better if my dad had killed me. Death seemed like the only real escape. I was half out of my mind with fear and sorrow. I wasn’t thinking straight. I wanted out. I really wanted to die. I went so far as to look in my medicine cabinet to see if I could find anything that’d do the job. Nothing but the usual cold and flu remedies and aspirin. Still, maybe, if I took all that was there... I didn’t know. I mentally slapped myself. No, that wasn’t the way. It just wasn’t. I worried about Taylor —what if he was thinking along the same lines? I couldn’t bear that, but no, he’d quickly come to the same realization that I had. Suicide wasn’t the answer; it couldn’t be. That wasn’t something to even be considered when there was someone you loved and someone that loved you. *** Later that evening Mom came up to my room and brought me some supper. She talked to me for a long time, but not much had changed. No matter how hard she tried to understand, she just couldn’t accept the fact that I was gay. Her disapproval hurt me. When I looked into her eyes, I read disappointment there, along with confusion and distaste. The knowledge that my own mother looked on me as a disappointment, as some kind of freak, cut into me like a dagger. She made me want
to crawl under a rock and die. I guess it could’ve been worse; she could’ve reacted more like my father. “Your father and I have discussed it,” she said matter-of-factly, “and you’re not to see Taylor anymore. That’s that.” “What?” I said. My mouth was hanging open. I was almost in a state of disbelief, and yet I guess I should’ve expected it. I hadn’t really thought about it. I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally, after all. If I had been, I would’ve known it was coming. It was a typical parental reaction, but it didn’t make it any easier to take. “He isn’t welcome here,” she continued, “and we don’t want you hanging around with him. Not in school, not after school, not ever.” I thought about saying something like “If he isn’t welcome here, then I’m not either,” but I decided it best not to dig myself in any deeper. I was already in enough trouble. “I thought you liked Tay ,” I protested. “All you’ve been saying is how nice a boy he is!” “I was obviously wrong. Nice boys don’t do what he did to you. They don’t...” She shook her head at the mental image. “It’s not like he raped me! I wanted it!” My mom slapped my face, making a sound like a small explosion. I couldn’t remember her ever hitting me before. It didn’t really hurt physically, but just the look on her face was enough to make me shake.
“I don’t ever want to hear you mention what happened again,” she said quietly. “We will NOT speak of it. When I think of you... with him...” She shuddered. “ Taylor isn’t welcome here. Your father and I don’t like the influence he has over you. We...” “What?” I said incredulously. “You think I’m gay because of Taylor ? I was gay a long time before Taylor came along!” “I don’t want to hear it, Mark! He simply isn’t welcome here, period.” It was pretty clear she didn’t want to hear anything about me being gay. She just wanted to ignore the whole thing. I guess she thought if she didn’t hear about it, it wasn’t real. “But Mom!” I cried. “I love Tay ! I’ve gotta see him!” “That’s final, Mark! You’re not to see him again. Ever.” I knew better than to argue. It wouldn’t get me anywhere. I also knew damn well that I would see him. No one would keep me from him! “One more thing,” she said, as she walked to my door. “I called Taylor ’s mother and talked with her.” “You did what?” I said, my mouth agape. I was in a state of shock and disbelief. I couldn’t believe she’d done that. My heart broke with the betrayal; at that moment I knew I’d never trust my parents again. “I discussed it with her and we decided it’s best for the two of you not to see each other again.”
I sat down on my bed and put my head in my hands. I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. It just didn’t seem possible. I really would’ve killed myself right then and there had I not known full well that Tay and I would be together. No one would keep me from him and I knew Tay wouldn’t let anyone keep him away from me. They’d have to kill us both to keep us apart. Mom quietly closed the door and left. I was hurt, devastated... furious beyond belief. The mix of emotions running through my head was about to make it explode. My heart ached for Taylor . I could just imagine him coming home to find out his parents knew all about what we’d been doing. Tay was so sensitive. It must’ve been a nightmare for him. The one thing we’d always feared most was happening: our secret was out. I wondered how his parents were treating him. My stomach growled again; I was starving. I wolfed down the supper Mom brought me. At least my jailers fed me. Needless to say I didn’t sleep much that night. When I did drift off from exhaustion, the hellish scenes of being discovered by my father played over and over in my head. Only when it was nearly dawn did I really fall asleep. As I drifted off for the final time, all I could think about was that my worse nightmare—our worst nightmare— had come true.
Taylor Mark’s mom led me down the stairs. I was so terrified, my entire body was trembling. My knees felt weak and tears flooded my eyes. Mr. Bailey was down there and I knew he wanted to hurt me. I could hear him in the kitchen, banging things around, but he didn’t come out. Mrs. Bailey opened the door. I looked at her. She’d always been so nice to me, but now... “Go home. Now.” That was all she said. From the look on her face I knew that whatever affection she’d felt for me was gone. It hurt, more than I thought it would. I really liked Mark’s mom, but it was clear she couldn’t stand the sight of me, like I was some kind of disease that had infected her son. I sobbed as I walked away from Mark’s house. I was afraid. I didn’t know what was going to happen. I’d heard Mark’s dad yelling at him while I was locked in the bathroom and I was sure he was going to hurt Mark then. I was still afraid he might. I should’ve come out of the bathroom instead of hiding. I should’ve stood by Mark’s side just in case his dad did try to hurt him, but I was just too shocked, humiliated, and afraid. I didn’t go straight home. Instead, I walked through the park. A lot was going through my mind. Mainly, I was terrified for Mark. What if his dad was just waiting for me to leave so he could go up to Mark’s room and beat him to death without any witnesses? I should’ve
stayed, but then, how could I? Mrs. Bailey had thrown me out of the house. I forced myself to calm down and get my sobbing under control. Mark would be okay. His mom wouldn’t let his dad hurt him. I’d seen, or rather heard, that much already. I remembered the fight at the beach. Mark was tough. If it came down to it, I was sure he could take his dad. He’d be okay. I sat down on a park bench, my heart beating wildly in my chest as if I’d run a mile at top speed. I took a few deep breaths. After a few minutes, I was finally able to stop sobbing, although tears were still flowing from my eyes. I couldn’t believe Mr. Bailey had walked in on us. I wasn’t ashamed of what we’d been doing. I loved Mark, and he loved me. Still, that’s something no one wanted their parents—let alone their boyfriend’s parents—to walk in on. I’d never be able to look Mark’s dad in the face again. That wasn’t going to be a problem, however, as I was sure I was no longer welcome in his home. I’d never felt such fear before. I had no idea what was going to happen, or what Mark’s parents might do. Each possibility I thought of was even worse than the one before. Part of me just wished I could die so I wouldn’t have to face it... wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. When I was able to stop crying at last, I washed my face in a fountain, and then walked home. I hoped it
wasn’t too obvious that I’d been crying. I didn’t want my parents asking a lot of questions. I went to my room and stared out the window. There was a beautiful maple tree standing just outside, its leaves already fast turning yellow and gold. Its beauty was lost on me at the moment, my heart filled with worry over Mark. I wished that he’d call me. I thought of picking up the phone and dialing his number, but his mom or dad might answer. I jumped when the phone rang. I picked it up, but I already heard my mom’s voice. It wasn’t Mark. My eyes opened wide and I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. It was Mrs. Bailey. Mark’s mom had called mine! I carefully put the receiver back down, my eyes wild with fear. There was little doubt what Mrs. Bailey had called about. I wondered just how much she’d tell my mom. I sat on the edge of the bed and awaited my fate. I heard Mom call Dad into the kitchen. I heard them talking. I thought about running from the house, but where would I go? I had to come back sooner or later. It was best to stay where I was and deal with whatever was coming—now instead of later. Running would only make it worse. If I was lucky, maybe Mrs. Bailey had just told my parents she didn’t want me around anymore. Maybe she hadn’t told them why. “ Taylor ! Get your little ass in here right NOW !” My dad sounded furious. I’d never heard him use that tone of voice before. I’d never even heard him talk like
that before. I stood up and walked toward the kitchen, like a doomed man heading for the gallows. As soon as I entered the kitchen, Dad slapped my face so hard it made it sting. Tears filled my eyes. “How could you?” he asked. I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there, holding my hand to my face where he’d slapped me. “You really are a queer, aren’t you?” he said, shaking his head. “I should’ve known. You’re always so quiet, so sensitive. You even look like a girl. I’ve always wondered about you, but I told myself ‘No, not my son. He’s quiet. He’d rather write poems than play football, but he’s no queer.’ I was wrong, though, wasn’t I?” I swallowed hard. I didn’t say anything. “Wasn’t I?” he bellowed, right in my face. “Answer me, you little faggot! You’re a queer, aren’t you?” “Yes.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “I didn’t hear you.” “Yes,” I said louder. “Tell me!” He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. “Tell me you’re a queer! Go on! Tell me to my goddamned face!” I was terrified of him. I was afraid he was going to beat me. I’d never been so much as spanked before that day, but I was afraid he’d beat me. “I’m a queer,” I said, tears filling my eyes.
He let go of me and began to pace back and forth, shaking with rage. “I can’t begin to tell you how disappointed I am in you, Taylor,” he said. “Your mother and I have done so much for you. We brought you into this world. We’ve clothed you and fed you and kept a roof over your head, and this is how you thank us? You go out and... and have sex with another boy?” He acted as if the words he was speaking made him sick. My mom looked like she was going to be ill as well. They acted like I was gay to hurt them, like I did it on purpose! I knew I should speak up for myself, but I was too afraid. I just didn’t have the courage to do it. I felt weak and pathetic. “Why, Taylor ?” asked my mom, still in shock. “Why have you done this to us? What if the neighbors find out? What if the family finds out? Why, we won’t be able to look anyone in the face!” I stood there and looked at her, crying like some little baby. The words she was speaking cut straight into my heart. “I’m sorry.” It was all I could say. I was such a coward that all I could do was stand there and apologize for being me. I should have stood up for myself, told her she had no right to talk to me that way. I should’ve told her that I was proud of what I was, and how much I loved Mark. But all I could do was stand there and apologize. I didn’t have the backbone to stand up to my own mother. I was humiliated. “You make me sick,” said my dad, shaking his head. “My own son... a pervert.”
He was glaring at me. I feared him. His words burned into me like a flame. I felt as if my parents were taking turns trying to hurt me as much as they could. I should’ve screamed at them, done anything... anything but just stand there and take it as I was doing. But I was a coward. “I cannot believe you’d do this, Taylor ,” said my dad. “I can’t believe you’d get into bed with another boy, naked, and...” He looked up at me and his eyes narrowed, as if seeing me for the first time. “No. I can believe it. Do you know the guys at work have teased me because of you? Do you know how many times they’ve said you’re ‘too pretty’ to be a boy?” My face blanched. I stood there and cried even harder. “You’re so weak, so pathetic. I’m ashamed to have a son like you! How could you do this to me, Taylor? How could you?” He was yelling and shaking me again, getting madder and madder by the second. “I can’t believe I have a son who’s a faggot! I just cannot believe it! You make me sick!” With that, my dad hit me hard in the face. He did it so fast I didn’t see it coming. I fell to the floor, clutching my cheek. It hurt ten time worse than when he’d slapped me. He leaned down toward me and I scrambled away from him, backwards on hands and feet. “Stop it!” yelled my mother. “Stop it! I won’t put up with you hitting him, even if he is a fag!”
My mother’s words hurt me even more than my dad hitting me. Had she really said what I thought she did? Was it even possible? “Get up!” ordered my Dad. I pulled myself up from the floor, the side of my face throbbing with pain. I was afraid he was going to do it again, even with my mom standing right there telling him not to touch me. I flinched whenever he moved his arm. “Go to your room,” he ordered, pointing the way. “Get out of my sight.” I left. I went straight to my room and closed the door. I was quaking with fear, crying with humiliation. I felt like no one loved me in all the world. My parents sure didn’t. No one loved me. As I lay on the bed crying, I thought of Mark. He loved me, even though no one else did. He was the only one, but he loved me—I knew he did. I grabbed my pillow and held it tight against my chest, squeezing it as if I were hugging Mark, wishing desperately that I was with him. I needed him so much, just to hold me and tell me that he loved me. Mark was the only thing that kept me going. I loved him with all my heart, and he loved me. I cried, praying that Mark was okay.
Scene 2
The Vampires are Revealed
Mark The door to my bedroom opened. My father stood glaring down at Taylor and I. We were naked, and my father had a shotgun. He raised it, I screamed, and suddenly he pulled the trigger... “Mark! Mark!” My mom had to shake me to bring me to consciousness. When I did awaken, I shrank back from her violently. My heart was in my throat. It took a few moments for the dreams to clear from my head. My mother left without saying anything further. What was there to say? I was exhausted, but I sure as hell didn’t want to stay in that house any longer than was necessary. Dad was already gone when I came downstairs, although he was usually around for a while before he left for work. He obviously didn’t want to see me. That was fine by me. I didn’t want to have anything to do with him, either. I didn’t even really want to be around my mom. I knew what she thought of me, and it hurt. It broke my heart to know that my own mother disapproved of me, as if I was unnatural. Along with the heartbreak was anger. The way my parents had decided to keep me from Taylor made me fucking furious! How could my own parents treat me like that?
I ate quickly and got the hell out of there. I wished more than anything that I had my own place and a job, but I was trapped. School was a sanctuary. At least it was familiar and filled with my friends—and Tay . I looked for him when I arrived, but couldn’t find him anywhere. I desperately hoped he was okay. Laura found me. She never failed to search me out before class. “Mark, what’s wrong? You look terrible.” I didn’t realize my mood showed so easily on my face. My eyes were still bloodshot and I was tired, but I’d looked like that before. Laura was picking up on my crushed spirit. I couldn’t tell her the whole truth, so I gave her what part of it I could. “I had a big fight with my dad last night. He went ballistic.” “What about?” “I don’t really want to talk about it, Laura.” She backed off, understanding. She grabbed my hands and comforted me. “It’ll be okay, Mark. I’m sure it will.” She smiled sweetly. I wondered what would happen to that smile if she knew what the fight with my dad was about. It made me feel cold and alone. Her kindness was comforting, and yet it only increased the terrible guilt that had been there all along. We’d been living a lie. There she was, comforting me, while I was taking advantage of her
again. It made me feel like slime. No, I just couldn’t deal with it. I had more than enough on my mind. I forced the guilt from my thoughts and blocked it from my mind. I really, really needed to talk to Tay . I spotted him coming toward me and made my apologies to Laura. She seemed to understand—probably thought it was a guy thing. There wasn’t much privacy in the hallway at school, but at least I could check on Taylor . Tay had a bruise on his cheek. His beautiful face was marred by a purplish-black mark! It made me want to cry. “You okay?” I asked, deep concern etched in my voice. “No, not really,” he said. He looked at me with tears welling in his eyes. “Your parents called mine. We aren’t allowed to see each other anymore.” “I know,” I said. “Fuck that! No one’s gonna keep us apart!” It was hard to keep our voices low enough not to be overheard. Tay smiled at my fury and determination, but it was a smile without joy. “What happened?” I asked, indicating his cheek. “Not now,” he said. I could tell it took every ounce of control he had to keep from sobbing. I nearly broke down in tears, too, as I imagined what had gone on in his house. He stared at me, his greenish-blue eyes burning like flames of ice.
“I won’t let them keep me from you, Mark.” His voice was so earnest and intense that I knew the same fire burned in his heart that burned within my own. I wanted to hug him right there in the hall, but it was impossible. I hated the world for making us hide our love for each other. I hated it for keeping me from comforting the one I loved. Why did it have to be that way? “ Tay , we’ll get through this,” I said, as convincingly as I could. “We have each other, and that’s all that matters.” Taylor nodded. “Yeah,” he said meekly. I could tell that he didn’t really believe everything would be okay. He looked as if he’d lost hope. The bell rang. We had to go. We couldn’t really talk in the hall anyway. “Meet me at lunch,” I said. “We’ll go outside and talk this out. We’re gonna get through this, Tay .” Taylor weakly smiled. I was really worried about him. I’d never seen him so down. I was pretty depressed and upset, too, but Tay looked like he was walking through hell itself. Seeing him in pain hurt me far more than my own suffering ever could. He was the sensitive one. What had happened was hitting him even harder than it was me. It was hard to concentrate in class. My mind was filled with what had happened and I was so worried about Tay . I kept looking at him during English. He looked like a weak duplicate of himself, a clone without
joy or life. As we parted at the end of the period, he drifted off like he wasn’t even aware of himself or his surroundings. It seemed like lunchtime would never arrive. When it came at last, I rushed to the cafeteria. Taylor was waiting on me. We walked outside where no one could hear us. “What did your parents do?” I asked. “They freaked,” he said, his voice catching in his throat. The look in Taylor ’s eyes was downright frightening. He had the look of someone who had witnessed an atrocity. “My dad called me a fag and told me how bitterly disappointed he was in me. They both acted like my being gay was some kind of crime, like I was doing it to hurt them! They didn’t understand. My dad actually hit me!” I raised my hand to caress Taylor ’s cheek, but then thought better of it. It was sure to be sore, and somebody might see us. I wanted to go to Taylor ’s house and beat his dad senseless for causing him pain— maybe even kill him for what he’d done to his own son. “Oh, Taylor ,” I whispered. I wanted to kiss his bruised cheek, take him in my arms and hug him, but I couldn’t. No one could overhear us, but they might see us. “When he hit me, Mom yelled at him. She said she wouldn’t put up with him hitting me, even if I was a fag.”
Taylor looked at me with sorrow in his eyes. He was crying. “She actually said it just like that... ‘even if he is a fag’. My own mother called me a fag!” Tay started sobbing harder. He was all torn up. I didn’t care if anyone could see us. I took Tay in my arms and hugged him, just for a moment. I loved him and I didn’t care what anyone did to me for hugging him. Luckily, no one saw me comforting my boyfriend. I filled Taylor in on the events at my house. His concern for me quieted his tears. I could tell he cared a lot more about my problems than he did about his own—just like I cared about his more than mine. We really, really loved each other. Both of us drew strength from that. We talked the entire lunch period—comforting each other, trying to deal with the situation. We were there for each other. When the time came to part, we were both still upset, but we knew we’d pull each other through the whole horrible mess... somehow, some way. *** I didn’t think things could possibly get worse than they already were, but they did get worse—much worse.
The events of the night before seemed almost unimportant compared to what happened next. My God... it still terrifies me to even think of it. That very same afternoon, coach walked into the locker room while we were all dressing for soccer practice. I was just tying my shoes and Taylor was already dressed. “Boys,” the coach called, clapping his hands together to get our attention. “We have to discuss something serious.” The whole room got quiet. Everyone knew something was up. Coach never came into the locker room to talk to us. Something big was up—something real big. “It seems we have a couple of fairies in our midst,” he said. “A couple of queers who can’t keep their hands off each other.” My face blanched and my heart nearly stopped. Time slowed, and I began to feel faint. I couldn’t believe what was happening. It just couldn’t be! It couldn’t! I looked at Taylor with sheer panic in my eyes and was met by much the same look. All the guys on the team were looking around, or staring at the coach. No one could believe what was going on. “We have a job to do, men. It’s up to us to keep these little faggots away from each other. Since they can’t control themselves, we have no choice but to keep them apart.” It was the worst moment of my life, even worse than what happened with my dad the day before. It was like
one of those bad dreams where you’re at school in nothing but your underwear—but this was far, far worse. My God, I was about to be exposed in front of all my friends! I would’ve done literally anything to get out of there. I was going out of my mind with fear and panic. The coach turned and pointed at us. “Everyone take a good look at Mark and Taylor. They’re the little homos that you all have to keep an eye on.” All eyes turned to us. They were staring at us like we were some kind of freak show. We’d been outed. At last, they knew we were vampires and they’d destroy us both. I couldn’t stand them all staring at me like that. I couldn’t take the shocked expressions, the looks of disbelief. I sure as hell wasn’t going to just sit there while coach denounced me. “I knew it,” spat Devon . “I fuckin’ knew it!” His voice dripped with hatred. My eyes darted around like those of a frightened animal. I felt like a cornered beast. My thoughts were irrational. My mind clutched in terror, and I nearly bolted. I nearly forgot all about Taylor in my panic. My eyes met his and I could read the terror in them. Taylor looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. I stood, stepped toward him. No one tried to stop me. “ Taylor , let’s go.” He arose and followed me. Coach blocked our path. I pushed him to the side. He grabbed my shoulder.
“Don’t touch me!” I yelled at him. My tone was so fierce he shrank back from me. He quickly recovered, but by then we were half way out the door. We left all the stares behind, abandoning all the spectators who were watching our little freak show. I was totally panicstricken. I couldn’t think about anything except getting the hell out of there. Taylor stopped dead in his tracks in the gym. I pulled him toward the exit, but he resisted me. I looked at him. His eyes were filled with tears. “I’ve just... I’ve just gotta be alone,” he stammered. “I’ve just got to think about this. I’m—I’m sorry, Mark...” He turned and ran from the gym. Some of the guys had come out of the locker room. They were staring at me and whispering to each other. They were laughing and I knew it was all about me and Taylor. Devon was looking at me with pure disgust. Seeing that look on the face of one of my closest friends cut into my heart like a sharp knife. He looked around at our teammates, then back at me. Along with the disgust, there was a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “I told you guys they were fuckin’ fags,” he said loudly. “I told ya.” I couldn’t handle it. I bolted. I ran faster than I’d ever run before, right out of the gym, right out of the school, right to my car. I jumped in and peeled out of the parking lot and didn’t slow down until I was far, far away.
*** I drove around for I don’t know how long, my mind racing. It was all over. By the next morning everyone would know. Everyone! I pounded on the steering wheel in frustration. How did things come to this? Why hadn’t I locked my door? Why did my dad have to walk in on us like that? My God, everyone was going to know. Our secret was out; there was no stopping it now. The villagers would be out in force soon, stakes in hand, to kill the vampires in their midst. We were revealed. It was all over. I only just barely managed to keep from intentionally running my car into a light pole. I wanted to die. Anything would be better than enduring what was to come. I wanted out. I really think I would’ve done it, if it wasn’t for Taylor . Even as I thought of careening my car off a bridge, I saw him in my mind. No—I couldn’t do that to him. What about Taylor ? Where was he? What was going through his mind? I was sick with worry over him. When I finally arrived home, it was late. The evening shadows had already darkened into night. I was more upset than I’d ever been before. My mom stopped me on the stairs as I went to my room. “Mark, your father thought he was doing the right thing when he called your coach. I know...” “What? HE called my coach?” I should’ve figured it out long before, but I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.
My mom started to explain. I didn’t want to hear. No explanation could possibly make up for what he had done. “I’ll never speak to him again!” I shouted, ran up the stairs, and slammed my door. I knew my dad was home and that he’d heard everything. I didn’t give a damn. I didn’t care if he came to my room and beat me. I was through with him. As far as I was concerned, my father was dead. Mom called me down to supper later. I considered just staying in my room, but I couldn’t hold out there forever. I wasn’t a free man. I came downstairs. We were one of those families that always ate in front of the television, unless we had guests. That made it easier to ignore him. I barely even spoke to my mother. She wasn’t exactly innocent in all that had happened. She had betrayed me almost as much as he had. I felt like I was a Jewish kid being held in Gestapo headquarters. I knew my every movement was being watched. It wouldn’t have surprised me if they tapped my phone. Okay, maybe I was being a little paranoid, but I knew what was going through their minds. After supper I started to leave the house, but my mom stopped me. “We think it’s best if you don’t go out for awhile,” said my mother. The way she said it was so nice, so condescending, it was as if she were telling a six yearold child not to go out in the cold without a coat. It made me furious. “So I’m grounded now, too?” I snapped.
She didn’t answer, but I knew it was the case. I turned and walked back upstairs. I closed and locked my door. I picked up the phone and called Tay . Luckily, we both had our own private lines. He didn’t answer, which was odd. I assumed he was under the same house arrest that I was. Our parents seemed pretty together on everything. They probably had little meetings on how to keep us apart. My heart nearly stopped when there was a knock at my window. I turned around in a flash. It was Tay ! I quickly opened up and pulled him in. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” I hissed between clinched teeth. I had no idea what would happen if my parents caught Tay in my room. I ran over and checked my door, even though I knew it was locked. “I just came to get you. Let’s go somewhere and talk.” I turned off my lights and followed Taylor out the window. We climbed down the trellis and dropped to the ground. Without a word, Tay led me away from the house. I followed him for a few blocks, right to the old Graymoor place— Verona ’s most notorious haunted house. It had been abandoned for years, ever since old man Graymoor went nuts and hacked up his entire family with an axe in 1872. Old man Graymoor was Verona ’s own Lizzie Borden. I couldn’t believe it when Taylor opened the gate and walked toward it. “Are you crazy?” I hissed. “We can’t go in there!”
He just grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me forward. I reluctantly followed him. I didn’t like being there. I didn’t really believe it was haunted, but it was a murder house, and it definitely gave me the creeps. No one ever went in there, not even full-grown men in the daylight! I bet no one had been there since the mob that hanged old man Graymoor, and that was more than a hundred years ago. Taylor led me inside. The heavy carved door creaked in protest. Although the light was dim, I could see the place was dilapidated. A hundred years’ worth of disuse had taken its toll. Talk about lack of upkeep! A painting of the Graymoor family hung over the living room mantle, water-stained from the leaking roof, and the carpet (or what was left of it) was rotted and threadbare. I knew the entire family had all died around here somewhere, most of them murdered. Their ghosts had to be here still, but I didn’t really believe in ghosts. Or did I? A nearby creak made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Taylor turned on a flashlight. I looked at him. In the dim light I could see tears flooding his eyes and running down his cheeks. Suddenly, I forgot all about the painting, the murders, and the ghosts. I pulled him to me, and hugged him tight, as I had wanted to so often that day. Tay sobbed with his head on my shoulder. I ran my hand through his hair, trying to comfort him. I held him as if I was protecting him from all the world.
“I’m sorry I ran like that. I just couldn’t take it,” he explained. “I was more than half out of my mind. I just had to get away and think. I’m so sorry I left you.” I took his face in my hands and stared into his eyes. “ Tay , it’s okay. I understand. We both needed to be alone for a little while just to think things out.” “They just sat there looking at us!” said Tay . “They didn’t say a word. Not a one of them spoke up for us. I’ve never been so humiliated in all my life! They just looked at us like we were some kind of monsters! I know what they were thinking. I could read it in their eyes! Why couldn’t they just leave us alone? What have we done that’s so bad? What did we do to deserve this?” I held Tay as he sobbed even harder. My heart ached for him, and myself. My God! How had all this happened? It was almost unreal, like something out of a bad After School Special. It couldn’t really be happening to us. I was crying, too. Tay and I held onto each other and bawled our eyes out. I didn’t feel one bit bad about crying. We weren’t pansies for shedding tears. Anybody in our situation would’ve done the same thing. When we had both quieted a bit, I gently took Tay by the chin, pulled his face to mine, then kissed him and hugged him tight. Taylor kissed me back. We just stood there, kissing and hugging each other, trying to blot out the rest of the world.
After a moment, we sank onto the floor and made love. Our lovemaking was so intense, so filled with meaning, that I won’t even try to describe it—for I cannot. That night meant more to me than any other. If anything, I loved Taylor more than ever. We didn’t fear the ghosts, but we knew there’d be hell to pay if our parents found out we were gone. I walked Tay home in the comforting cloak of darkness, holding his hand, lending him support. I kissed him goodnight, then walked home. I slipped into my house—or should I say my prison—climbing the trellis and entering through the window. I climbed into bed and actually cried myself to sleep. I was overwhelmed by all that had happened and I felt that I had but one friend in all the world. Unless you’ve experienced it for yourself—and God help you if you do—there’s no way you can comprehend how ultimately dreadful it is to be singled out, ridiculed, and hated. It was all the worse for being undeserved. I mean, if I’d killed someone or something, I would’ve figured I had it coming. But all I did was dare to love another boy. Why does loving someone have to be a crime?
Taylor I responded to Mark as he kissed me in the old Graymoor House. I never needed to be held more than I did at that moment. I felt as if my whole life lay in ruins. The future terrified me. I couldn’t bear to think of the recent past, nor what lie ahead, so I held myself in that moment, in Mark’s arms. As long as he held me, I knew I’d be safe. I hugged him so tight I felt as if I were trying to draw him into myself. I kissed him deeply, with a desire born not only of lust, but of intense love, and a need to be loved. Mark and I tugged at each other’s clothes. In seconds, Mark’s shirt was on the floor, then mine was beside it. We kicked off our shoes and piled our socks on top of them. Our jeans and boxers were soon added to the pile and we sank naked to the floor. We were in near-total darkness, but we didn’t need to see. We needed to be with each other... love each other. So often in the past I had desired sex, and never more so than after meeting Mark. Our lovemaking was far, far beyond sex, however. It was so much more than mere sex that it was as if it were a different thing entirely. I can’t describe everything we did. Written down, it seems to have no beauty. But that’s not how it was at all. When we made love, it is as if we became one with the stars that we loved to watch together.
When Mark and I made love, it was as if we were trying to get inside each other... become a part of each other... become one. I felt as if our souls were attempting to fuse together like two burning embers in a fireplace, and our bodies mirrored that action. The physical delights of sexual pleasure were beyond description, but even they were not the goal of our lovemaking. I wanted with all my heart to show Mark how very much I loved him, and I knew within my heart that he possessed the very same desire. Sex is a simple act, a biological need. Love is so much more that there can be no comparison. Our lovemaking was a part of that love. Had we performed the acts without the love, it would’ve been physically satisfying, but it wouldn’t have had a hundredth—no, not a thousandth or hundred-thousandth—the meaning of our actions with love. I melded into Mark, body and soul. I felt as if we were one when we were together. As we lay in each other’s arms, the terrors that surrounded me left my mind. What had passed was unimportant. The future held no terror for me. Nothing mattered but Mark and our love for each other. I gave no thought to the horrors of my life. It was as if nothing had the power to touch me when I was with Mark. Our time together was brief, however. We couldn’t stay away from our homes for long without the risk of discovery. We arose and dressed, then held each other and kissed again. Neither of us wanted to leave the other. If we could have, we’d have stayed right there, forever, in each other’s arms.
Scene 3
Into the Lion’s Den
Mark I awoke the next morning to a few moments of blissful ignorance. In the time it took my head to clear, I had momentarily forgotten the hellish nightmare that my life had become. But as soon as the remnants of sleep had been cleared away, the full weight of what had transpired, and what was to come, fell on me with its crushing weight. I’d never wanted to stay in bed so desperately in all my life. I didn’t see how I could possibly face my friends (if I still had any), my classmates, or my teammates. I seriously considered just running away. Taylor and I could go somewhere no one knew us, get jobs, and... No, I knew that wasn’t the answer, even as the thought entered my head. In that direction lay a bleak future: minimum-wage jobs, poverty, living in a world of strangers, and only God-knew-what-else. I was sharp enough to know that the world is a cruel place, with no sympathy for those down on their luck. Two sixteen year-old boys couldn’t make it on their own. Death would be a preferable option to the life Tay and I would have if we exiled ourselves from Verona . As bleak as it was, here was where our future lay—at least for the time being, until we were older. I forced myself to sit up on the edge of my bed. I just sat there in my boxers, lacking the will to get up and get ready. I stretched my arms over my head. I felt
ridiculous. I had to go on. I stood and numbly forced myself to shower and dress for school. “God help me through this day,” I silently prayed as I pulled on my clothes. I was going to need all the help I could get to make it through what was to come. I wondered what Mrs. Campbell, the woman who threw such a fit about Mr. Hahn’s “pro-gay” poster (as she called it), would have to say about me and Taylor. No doubt she’d blame it on that poster and argue that if only it had been taken down sooner, we wouldn’t have turned gay. What a bitch! I wondered what Laura’s mother would think after she learned that I was gay. I guess being outed solved the whole problem of her having the hots for me. Laura! Fuck! With all that had been going on, I’d almost forgotten about her and Steph. Was there no end to this nightmare? I entered the kitchen. Both my parents were there. My dad didn’t speak to me—didn’t even look at me. I’d been disowned. It cut me to the quick, and yet, it was just as well. My dad had betrayed me, exposed me to my entire soccer team, and ultimately, to the entire school. I had nothing to say to him, nothing—not then, not ever. My mother was far from innocent, but at least she’d protected me and was probably the only reason I hadn’t been kicked out of the house. As much as her lack of acceptance hurt, she had stood up for me in her own way. In time, maybe things would be okay between us. I was civil to Mom, but not too warm. The tension in
our house was so thick it was practically a tangible, visible thing. No way could I eat a whole meal with them. I grabbed a doughnut and walked out the door. I was beginning what’d probably be the worst day of my life—assuming anything could possibly be worse than the day before. The villagers knew Taylor and I were vampires, and the stalking would begin. I half expected us to be chased through town by our classmates, waving torches and wooden stakes as they pursued us. *** It started before I even walked into school; the stares, the looks, the whispering as I passed. Tay and I were undoubtedly the talk of the school. We were the freak show, the school fags. I could clearly sense the disapproval that I expected. I could read it in the eyes of many of those I passed—not that anyone met my gaze. Only a few of my classmates seemed able to look me in the eyes. What I felt most of all was a sense of awkwardness and ill ease. That feeling was all around me and far more pronounced than the sense of disapproval. Most disapproved, but everyone seemed to feel uncomfortable around me—everyone. When I passed by, it was like something unnatural had just slunk down the street. Conversations halted, boys tensed, and girls looked at me with confusion and curiosity. It was almost as if I was from another world. It was all subtle, but it was as real as if it had all been shouted at me.
The worst were those few who not only looked at me, but glared. Without exception, all of these were guys. I could read the hatred and contempt in their eyes. The moment I was outed, I became their enemy, even though I’d never done anything to harm them. I was the same guy I was before they knew I was gay, and yet everything was changed. Those who once admired me now looked on me with contempt. I’m sure not a few delighted in my fall. They couldn’t wait to drive a stake through the vampire’s heart. I tried not to let it get to me, but it did. The stares, the silence, the disapproval, the sense of ill ease... all of it cut me to the quick. I fought hard not to let my feelings show. Truth to be known I was on the verge of breaking down. Now wouldn’t that have been great? I could just imagine what the glaring boys would’ve had to say about the crying fag. I didn’t give them the satisfaction. I steeled myself against it all and walked into school. If anything, it was even worse inside. The mix of emotions seemed magnified once they were confined within a smaller space. My classmates actually stepped back from me as I passed. Old friends pretended they didn’t see me, or acknowledged my existence even less than they would that of a stranger. No one walked up to me. No one said “hi.” The day before, I’d been a popular soccer jock; now I was the school fag. I caught a few satisfied smirks from those who reveled in what had happened to me, each ecstatic that my life was ruined. The world was a very cruel place.
I scanned the faces, but I didn’t see Tay anywhere. I wondered if he’d come to school after what had happened. I wondered where he was, and if he was okay. As difficult as my situation was, I worried about him even more. I loved him so very much and it hurt me to think what he must be going through. I yearned to hold him in my arms and comfort him once more. I neared my locker. She was standing there. I expected a confrontation with Laura, and wasn’t looking forward to it in the least. Laura was waiting for me with crossed arms, her expression hurt and angry. She was nearly in tears. Laura was one of the few that looked me in the eye, and I didn’t care for what I saw there at all. I faced her, walked toward her. I’d hurt her and I knew it. I didn’t deserve to be hated for what I was, but I did deserve her wrath. I’d deceived Laura, used her. No matter how good of a time I tried to show her, no matter how well I treated her or what I bought her, it didn’t alter what I’d done to her. I’d never meant for her to know. I’d never meant for others to know. But I’d known the risk was there, and I’d taken it without consulting her, without warning her of the danger. I’d committed her to my course as surely as I’d committed myself, and now she suffered for my mistake. Whatever Laura did to me, I deserved it. I stood, facing her. I wanted to tell her how sorry I was, how I never wanted to hurt her, but the words wouldn’t come. No one stood near us, but a crowd was milling around, eager to watch the show. Her friends,
our classmates, and so many more—it made it that much more difficult on us both. “I’m sorry.” It was all I could force out, nothing else would come. Laura slapped me hard across the face. The pain was intense, but I barely flinched. I deserved it. “You bastard!” she hissed, her anger mixed with tears. “You bastard! How could you humiliate me like this? Did I mean anything to you at all? Or were you just playing me for a fool? Was it fun, Mark? Did you enjoy ruining my life? Did you find it funny, knowing I was dating a fag?” Her words cut into me like a scalpel slicing up my flesh, cutting its way to my heart. “I never meant to hurt you, Laura,” I said quietly. “Never meant to hurt me!” She was practically screeching. “Never meant to hurt me! God help whoever you do intend to hurt! You made a fool out of me! You took advantage of me! What kind of monster are you? You pretended to date me when you had a boyfriend! What did you do—fuck him after you took me home? I never want to see you again!” She kneed me right in the nuts, as hard as she possibly could. I doubled over and fell to the floor. I was in agony. I squirmed on the floor moaning, putting on a show for all those around me. I’d never felt pain like that before. I could feel everyone looking at me. I could feel Laura staring at me.
“I hope for your boyfriend’s sake I didn’t damage anything!” Laura snorted and laughed derisively, then stomped away in a huff. I pulled myself to my feet. No one offered to help me. I could barely stand. I gathered my books and limped toward class. Would my balls ever stop hurting? The physical pain cut through my emotional turmoil for a few minutes. My balls hurt too much for my mind to consider anything else. As I neared my first period class, a couple of football players slammed into me, knocking my books everywhere. “Sorry, Princess,” they mockingly called to me, “hope you didn’t chip a nail.” They continued down the hall with self-satisfied smirks and wicked laughter. I wanted to just lay into them, but I could barely walk. Even if I hadn’t been so debilitated, taking on the two of them would’ve been suicide. In my present state, that didn’t seem like such a bad idea. I fought to maintain control. I didn’t know whether I wanted to shout in anger or cry. I did neither, but walked into class, sat down heavily, and attempted to ignore the icy atmosphere. Even in the classroom, I felt my classmates looking at me. There was no escape from all those eyes. I’d shocked everyone. No one suspected for even a moment that I was gay. The truth blindsided them. They all followed the stereotypes and never dreamed that a jock could be queer. They stared at me in disbelief. Even Mr. Geoffrey was gazing at me with the now-familiar curious/shocked look. Like most, he tried to conceal his efforts to watch me, but he couldn’t help
but stare at me. I felt like I was a traffic accident or something. Everyone looked at me like I was some kind of freak. I couldn’t evade detection or escape from prying eyes. I felt like I was living my life under a microscope. Was this what it was going to be like from now on? Was this what my life had become? An overpowering desire to crawl under a rock and hide seeped into my very bones. I felt like screaming at everyone to quit staring at me, but more attention wasn’t what I needed. It was a nightmare! *** I was about to snap. I just couldn’t take it. The effort of maintaining control was becoming too much. I finally did snap. I’d held out for over an hour, but then I couldn’t bear it anymore. I was walking down the hallway between first and second period, trying to block out everything around me, when Randy had to open his big mouth. “How’s it going, fag-boy?” he taunted. I couldn’t take it. I lost control. I turned and smashed him in the mouth. He fell to the floor. I reached down and grabbed him by his shirt. I was going to pull him to his feet and beat the shit out of him. Someone grabbed me from behind, but I shook them off.
“Hold it right there, Mr. Bailey!” I froze. It was Mr. Montgomery, our assistant principal. I turned and faced him. “Did you hear what he called me?” I cried. By the look on his face, I could tell he didn’t care. “Did you?” I repeated. He ignored my question. “Come with me, young man,” he grabbed me by the collar and dragged me to his office. I noticed a lot of my classmates smirking. They thought it was funny as hell. Mr. Montgomery dropped me into a chair and looked at me with stern disapproval. “Did you hear what he called me?” I repeated. “He called me ‘fag-boy’.” “Listen, son,” he said in his stern voice. “You’ve chosen your lifestyle, and now you’re just going to have to deal with it. If you do the things you’ve obviously been doing, you’re going to have to expect to be ridiculed for it. ” I couldn’t believe he said that. “But...” I began. He held his hand up to silence me. “I don’t want to hear it, Mr. Bailey. I’m giving you three weeks detention.” “Three weeks! That’s not fair. He called me ‘fagboy’! What about him? I...”
“Enough!” he snapped. “One more word, and I’ll have you expelled!” Mr. Montgomery practically shoved me out of his office. I thought people who went into teaching liked kids and cared about their problems and troubles. Apparently, that didn’t apply to little faggots like me. Mr. Montgomery treated me like a piece of garbage he was dumping on the curb. I was mad as hell. I got punished for defending myself and he didn’t do a damn thing to Randy. He acted like I deserved being treated like a piece of shit, like it was all my doing. Detention sucked. It meant being stuck in school for three hours on Saturday. Fuck that! I just wouldn’t go! At lunch, no one sat by me—no one. They treated me like a leper, all of them! I felt betrayed. Didn’t even one of my friends have the balls to at least sit with me? Had they all forsaken me? I looked around for Brandon and Jon, but they weren’t even there. It was the first time I could remember that I didn’t see them at lunch. Ethan and Nathan were conspicuous by their absence as well. I saw most of my other ‘friends,’ but they avoided me like the plague. I sat there all alone, feeling like the loneliest boy in the entire world. It was humiliating to sit there all by myself. Everyone knew why I was being ostracized. I felt them looking at me, even when I closed my eyes. Some of them were even pointing, pointing at the school faggot. I didn’t see Taylor all day. I kept looking for him, but I guess he hadn’t come to school. He wasn’t in first
period English and he was nowhere to be found at lunch. I hoped he was okay, not for the last time.
Taylor I got to school late and missed seeing Mark in first period. I really hated that. Seeing him was the only thing I had to look forward to. It had been the worst day of my life. Everyone was staring at me. Boys were harassing me and calling me names. I’d had my books knocked out of my arms three times already since I’d arrived. I had to fight to keep from crying. Sometimes I lost the fight and tears streamed down my face. I wanted to go and hide in a stall in the restroom, but I knew I’d get my ass kicked if I went in there. As I was putting my books away before lunch, I heard some girls giggling on the other side of the lockers. I soon discovered what it was all about—me. “So Stephanie, did Taylor teach you how to give head?” laughed one girl. “I hear he’s real good at it. Just ask any of the guys—he’s probably done ‘em all.” “Get away from me!” yelled Stephanie. She wasn’t laughing. I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was angry and hurt. “Hey Stephanie, did you hear the rumor that Taylor got Mark pregnant? Or was it the other way around?” There was more giggling, and laughing. Poor Stephanie. She was going through hell and it was all because of me. I leaned my head against my locker; I
desperately wanted to die on the spot. I’d done this to her. I wanted to run and hide, but I just couldn’t leave Stephanie to the wolves. I’d wronged her. I’d used and humiliated her. I forced myself to walk around to where the girls were making fun of Stephanie, and me. “Well, here she is,” said one of them, laughing. Stephanie looked at me. She’d been crying. Her eyes were all red and her face puffy. “Let her alone,” I said. “This isn’t her fault. She didn’t know. I lied to her. I’m the queer, not her. Just leave her the fuck alone!” The girls stopped laughing. “I knew you were too pretty to be a boy,” one of them said with a smirk. They left, however, and stopped bothering Stephanie. Just as they did so, Devon smashed into me. I didn’t even know he was anywhere near, but he slammed me up against the lockers. My head struck hard against the metal doors, sending a loud clang down the hallway, and I cried out in pain, despite myself. “Don’t even think of showin’ up to practice, fag!” he hissed. “We don’t want you or your faggot boyfriend leering at us in the locker room and showers.” He snarled at me, then spit in my face. “Faggot!” Devon pushed me even more tightly up against the lockers and snarled at me.
“I always knew you were a fag. What did you do to Mark to turn him queer? Huh? He was cool before you came along. Now he’s a dirty pillow-biter, just like you.” With that, Devon punched me once in the stomach, shoved me down to the floor, and stormed away. I wiped the spit from my face and looked up at Stephanie. We just looked at each other sadly for a few moments. I’d hurt her, but I still cared for her. Part of me even loved her. “I’m sorry... I...” “Not here,” she said. Stephanie helped me up and led me outside. When we were out of earshot of everyone, she turned to me. Her eyes were accusing, and worse, filled with hurt. “I loved you,” she said, choking back the tears. I closed my eyes for a moment. The pain that fell on me was far worse than any I’d experienced that day. Tears were streaming from my eyes when I opened them again and looked at her. I couldn’t make myself speak. “I loved you, Taylor,” she wailed. “I loved you with all my heart! I thought you loved me, too. How could you do this to me, Taylor? How could you play this... this sick game with me? When I think of you with Mark...” She shuddered, as if the very thought sickened her. “I’m... I’m sorry,” I said.
I was crying so hard I could barely get the words out. I couldn’t stand the pain I’d caused her. I couldn’t stand knowing that I’d broken her heart. I wanted to reach out and hug her, but I knew she hated me now. “Is that all you can say, Taylor ?” she spat. “I... I... I’m so sorry, Stephanie. Listen, I know it was wrong, but we had to do something to hide. You see what it’s like? You saw Devon ? That’s what my life’s like now! That’s what Mark and I were trying to avoid!” “So that makes using me okay? I thought you were a lot nicer than that, Tay .” I shook my head. “No. No, it doesn’t make it okay. I’m so sorry, Steph. Listen, if it means anything now, I did care for you. I still do! Part of me loves you. I do love you—but I love Mark, too. It’s all so confusing. I’m so fucked-up!” Stephanie looked at me with pain in her eyes. I knew I’d hurt her worse than anyone had ever hurt her. “I don’t know if I can trust you, Taylor,” she said softly. “I just don’t know. Everything between us has been a lie. You lied to me. You used me.” I took a step towards her. “It wasn’t all a lie. Please, Stephanie—believe me when I tell you that I cared for you. I still do! Please...” “You broke my heart,” she said.
Stephanie turned and walked away from me, never looking back. I just stood there and sobbed. I felt like my heart was broken, too.
Scene 4
Living in a Glass House
Mark I stood outside the locker room, summoning the courage to walk in. I’d bolted the day before, but I’d be damned if I’d let coach and a few others keep me from playing soccer. I think walking into that locker room was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. I didn’t know what would await me inside. I’d been nervous about it all day—well, that’s not quite true. I’d been through so much during the day that the nervousness about what would happen at soccer practice was often driven from my mind. I steeled myself for what was to come. I prepared myself to ignore the taunts and verbal abuse. My muscles tensed. If need be, I was ready to fight to stay. If worse came to worse, I was ready to fight my way back out and escape. I took a deep breath. I knew it was very likely that I’d get my ass kicked when I entered the locker room. I stepped through the door, feeling like a convicted criminal stepping up to the gallows. Every conversation stopped and all eyes turned to me as I entered. I could feel coach stare at me as I passed, boring holes into the back of my head. He didn’t say anything to me. He just stared. A few of my teammates backed off as I passed, and all of them were looking at me. A couple of them were naked and hurried to pull on their uniforms. Guys were quickly dressing all around me, or were afraid to
undress. That made my heart ache. I bit my lip and opened my locker. I kept my mind on changing my clothes, trying to block out those around me. After a moment, my teammates turned back to what they were doing, but they were still watching me. A few were glaring at me, but most of them were trying to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary. They weren’t very successful. I could feel how ill at ease most of my teammates were with me in the room. I guess I couldn’t really blame them. To be honest, checking out all the naked and half-naked guys in the locker room was a secret pleasure of mine—well, I guess not so secret anymore, but before I was exposed, it was an arousing thrill. I could enjoy the scenery and none the wiser. But I didn’t dare check out any of the guys now. I couldn’t so much as look at them, not so much because I was afraid of getting belted in the mouth, but because I didn’t want to make them any more uncomfortable than they already were. It hurt me to think that my teammates didn’t trust me. Maybe I deserved that a little. I’d checked out their young bodies now and then, but I hadn’t really done anything wrong. All I’d done was look. I was tying my shoes when Brandon and Jon walked up to me. I felt myself tense as they neared. I was afraid. They stood there for a moment and I looked up. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Brandon was my best friend and I was close to Jon, too. But that didn’t mean anything, not anymore. Things like this turned friends
into enemies. My whole world was filled with uncertainty. I felt like there was nothing, and no one, I could depend on, except Taylor . “I’m glad you came back, Mark,” said Brandon , a little louder than normal. “I’m sorry some guys have to be so judgmental.” He glanced around the locker room pointedly. “Yeah,” said Jon. “We won’t stand a chance against the Trojans this next weekend without you.” “Thanks,” I said, with more genuine feeling than I’d ever felt before. They were the only two who’d given me any kind of support the entire day. Those guys didn’t know what it meant to me to have someone just talk to me like I wasn’t a freak. The mood in the locker room seemed to ease just a bit; some small fraction of the tension was gone. Things were far from normal, but my two friends had built a bridge that’d help us all cross unfamiliar territory. I was relieved to know that I still had a couple of friends. I was beginning to think all of them had forsaken me. Any friend that stood by my side now was a friend indeed. As much as I appreciated their support, I couldn’t help but think how much it would have helped me if they’d been supporting me earlier. But I guess they both needed some time to sort through their feelings. I know it was a big shock for them. I was just so glad that they were on my side now. As difficult as all this was for me to deal with, I knew that it had to be hard on my teammates as well. How were you supposed to react when you discovered that
someone you thought you knew was something totally unexpected? Well, maybe not totally unexpected, but close enough. A few of the guys still looked at me with open disapproval and disgust, but it seemed that most would at least let me be, and a rare few would even accept me as I was. I began to get a glimmer of hope. Things were going to be hard—very hard, but maybe not so impossible as I originally feared. As these thoughts were running through my mind, Taylor entered. The guys looked him over, too, but not nearly as much as they stared at me when I entered. I guess I’d kind of broken the ice. A couple of guys even said “Hi” to him. I didn’t like the looks some of others were giving him, however. It made me want to just lay into them. Devon was the worst; he glared at Taylor even more than he had at me. The look on his face was one of pure hatred and contempt. Little more than a day before, I thought Devon had been our friend, and a good one at that. Now, he showed himself to be a bitter enemy—a vampire hunter. I was astonished at how quickly things had taken a turn for the worse. I hated the way some of the guys were staring at Taylor . I couldn’t stand the condemnation, not of someone I loved so very much. Our position wouldn’t be helped by me getting into another fight, so I swallowed my anger and focused instead on making things easier for Tay . “Hey, Taylor ,” I said, casually. “Ready for practice?”
“Only if we don’t do those damned calf-killer exercises again, whatever they’re called.” I could tell his spirits were low, but he was trying to keep going, just as I was. I expected someone to make a smart remark, say something about me talking to my boyfriend, but no one did. Maybe the way Brandon and Jon were standing there protectively had something to do with it. I’d never forget how those guys stood by me, even if I lived to be a hundred. Practice was tough, both physically and mentally. I didn’t mind the physical part; it helped me to concentrate on soccer instead of my situation. The mental part was far more difficult. Despite the open acceptance of a few, and the neutrality of others, there were still many of my teammates that just didn’t want either Tay or myself to be there. I could read it in their eyes and their expressions. The worst of them weren’t subtle at all. I was knocked on my ass repeatedly. Getting hit wasn’t unusual during practice, but when it happened over and over, it was obvious that it was no accident. Every time it happened, I heard a lot of things murmured under the breath as well—“fairy,” “faggot,” “queer,” “sissy,” and all the rest. I tried not to let it get to me, but it did. Teammates were supposed to stick together, but as far as some of the guys were concerned, I wasn’t worthy of being on the team anymore. A few of them wouldn’t even pass me the ball during practice. I’d be wide open while everyone else was covered. Other guys would be yelling for the guy with
the ball to pass it to me, but he just acted like he didn’t hear, as if he couldn’t see me—as if I didn’t exist. I even heard one of my teammates mutter, “I’m not passin’ to the fairy” to one of his buddies. They both laughed at me like I wasn’t even there. God, that hurt. It was all getting to be too much. After practice was even worse. When I walked into the showers, most of the guys in there beat a hasty retreat. Only Taylor and a very few others stayed. I could tell Brandon and Jon were making a point of staying. There stood right there, naked, water and soap dripping off their youthful bodies, as if to say We know you’re gay, but you’re still our friend, and we trust you. I loved them for that. I smiled wanly at Tay . He knew what I was going through—no one knew better than him. We both showered quickly and got out of there. Most of the guys wouldn’t go into the showers until we had left. The most militant of my teammates, like Devon , wouldn’t even undress as long as Taylor and I were in the locker room. That made me feel distinctly unwanted and unwelcome. The guys that were pulling that crap didn’t care. They wanted me and Taylor to feel like outcasts. That’s how they thought of us, and they wanted both of us off the team. If treating us like shit would do the job, then that was fine by them. I was thankful that most of our teammates weren’t so cruel or homophobic. I genuinely appreciated the handful that stood by us. Taylor was going through everything I was. It was comforting in a way, and yet it also made it worse. As
bad as it was for me, thinking about Tay suffering was the hardest part. I just couldn’t stand watching someone I cared for so much suffer like that. I finally understood what my father said to me when I was six years old and very, very sick. He told me he wished he could be sick instead of me. At the time I didn’t understand why anyone would want to feel like I did—but now I understood. Back then, my suffering was harder for my father to bear than his own would’ve been. I sighed. I bet he didn’t feel the same way now. Hell, he was personally responsible for most of my suffering! He was the one that had exposed me to all my friends. My father was the one who destroyed my life. Tay met me outside the locker room. As soon as he stepped out we could hear some of our teammates yelling at each other back inside. Our few “supporters” were chewing out the “homophobes” and getting ragged on for it. I really appreciated those few guys standing up for me and Tay . I know it wasn’t easy, but it showed me who our real friends were. I looked at Taylor . I could tell he had been through one hell of a day. “Come on,” I said. “I’ll walk you home.” “Didn’t you drive?” “No car. My parents took my keys. They think it’ll keep me from seeing you.” “Oh.” I turned to Taylor and looked him straight in the eyes.
“Nothing will keep me from seeing you, Tay — nothing.” “And no one will keep me away from you,” he said quietly. That little exchange made me feel better. I knew already that we were both determined to stick together, but hearing it spoken out loud gave that determination strength. Devon and a couple of his buddies walked out of the locker room. They stood staring at us, then whispered to each other and laughed, making it obvious they were laughing at our expense. One of my teammates bent over in front of Devon and Devon acted like he was doing him. The guys thought that was funny as hell. I looked Devon right in the eyes across the short distance between us, without blinking. I wanted to kick his ass. “Hey, Mark, why don’t you come and suck this?” said Devon as he hefted his bulge. “I hear you fags are good at that.” I started to go for him, but Taylor grabbed my arm. Brandon and Jon walked out just then. They hadn’t heard what Devon had said, but he didn’t dare say anything else with them there. “Let’s go,” said Taylor , pulling me away. “You should’ve let me deck him,” I said, looking over my shoulder as we walked away. “You can’t fight everyone, Mark. We can’t. There’s too many of them, and only two on our side.”
“Maybe more than two,” I said thoughtfully. “Yeah. I guess we’ll find out who our real friends are.” “Brandon and Jon are, for sure.” “Yeah, I’ve always liked them. Now I like them even more.” Taylor and I were getting plenty of looks as we walked together. Mostly it was just curious gazes. Everyone at school seemed so shocked to find out that Taylor and I were gay. I guess we didn’t fit the stereotypes that they’d built up in their heads. Gay guys were supposed to be effeminate, soft-spoken, and meek. Tay and I sure as hell didn’t fit that description! We were jocks—loud, athletic, and wild, at least on the soccer field. I guess we kind of upset everyone’s notions of what gay guys were like. Tough shit! They’d just have to learn that there were all types of gay guys, just like there were all types of guys. Some of the looks were filled with hatred and contempt. I’d always hidden what I was because I knew there were such feelings out there, but actually experiencing the prejudice and animosity was an overwhelming experience. It’s one thing to hear about stuff like that. It’s quite another to be on the receiving end. It was hard to believe that some people actually hated me and Tay —even people who had never even met us, never even talked to us. “Faggottttttts!” A bottle just missed Tay and busted on the sidewalk, sending glass flying everywhere. I
turned my head to see a car whiz by, filled with high school guys I didn’t recognize. One in the back flipped us off and yelled, “Die, fucking queers!” Taylor and I tried to ignore them as we walked down the sidewalk, and did our best to just ignore the people on the street who looked at us questioningly. Never before had I realized the value of being able to walk out in public unknown and unmolested. I guessed those days were over for good. Two blocks from Taylor ’s house we said goodbye and went our separate ways. It would’ve been great if we could have studied together the way we used to, but that was then and this was now. I walked home alone, wishing this nightmare was all just a terrible dream and that I’d wake up to find all my troubles gone. It’s funny: my life before being outed was far from perfect. I was so lonely before I met Taylor , and there were so many problems to handle when we started dating. But looking back those times seemed like a golden age.
Taylor I didn’t want to go home, but I was afraid to walk around by myself. I’d been knocked around enough during the day to know I’d likely get my ass kicked if the wrong guy found me alone. I wasn’t exactly a wimp, but I wasn’t a fighter. I’d never even hit another guy before. I rubbed my cheek and thought about what might await me at home. My dad probably wouldn’t hit me again, but I still hated being there. I turned away from home and walked instead to the big old house known as the Graymoor Mansion . When I’d first laid eyes on the monstrous structure, I never dreamed I’d have the courage to step foot inside. It wasn’t so much that the house had become less frightening, but rather the rest of the world had grown so horrible that Graymoor actually seemed like a safe place now. It was the one place nobody would dare to go—the one place I could be safe, with Mark or alone. I walked toward the old mansion and entered through the same heavy door I had with Mark. The interior was lit with sunlight from outside, ricocheting bright shafts of light into the stairway. The house was still a bit dim, but far less intimidating than it was at night, and I could see where I was going. As I walked through the dusty corridors, I realized the house must have been beautiful once. It was dull and gray now, full of dust and
cobwebs, but at one time it must have been light and airy. I could almost picture fresh flowers sitting in a vase on the marble-top table and someone playing a happy tune on the old pump organ in the front parlor. The house was forlorn and unkempt, yet all the furniture was still intact, giving the impression that the occupants had just left moments ago and could return at any second. But I knew that they’d never return—that no one would ever come here except for me and Mark. Something about that was comforting. As I climbed the stairs and explored room after room, I began to wish that Mark and I could buy the old place and make it look as it once did. I wished that we could have a life there together in our beautiful home, spending our days loving each other. It was a dream that couldn’t come true, however. We’d never be left alone. We’d never have peace. No matter where we went in Verona , people would know about us. People would hate us, curse us... even wish that we were dead. I sighed. Today had been the worst day of my life. I’d been called names so many times I’d lost count. I’d been slammed into my locker, I’d been tripped, knocked down, and shoved everywhere I went. I had my books knocked out of my hands and had been glared at by people I didn’t even know. I felt like everyone hated me. I guess a lot of them really did. My nerves were frayed and I was emotionally exhausted. All I could do was wait until I could be with Mark again. He was the only one that loved me, the only one that cared. I wanted to be with him, forever.
I didn’t even cry as I thought about what had happened to me that day. I was all cried out. I’d been so hurt that I’d grown numb to it. I thought about Stephanie and what I’d done to her. It had all gone so horribly wrong. I’d never meant to hurt her, but I couldn’t have made her more miserable if I’d focused all my efforts on doing so. Thinking of what I’d done to her was so painful, I immediately pushed the image of her out of my mind. I looked down at my trembling hands. I hadn’t realized it, but I was shaking. I wasn’t afraid of Graymoor. I was afraid of what my life had become. All day, I’d tensed up when anyone drew near. It was the worst around guys, because I knew at any second, one of them could pop me in the face. I just knew I’d get my ass kicked. The only question was when. It made me feel like a coward, but I had to admit, I really was afraid of getting beat up. I didn’t think I could handle it. I was so glad that Mark was around to protect me. I knew he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me, and I also knew I’d do my best to keep anyone from hurting him. I wasn’t brave, but if any guy jumped on Mark, he’d have me to deal with, too. I stopped trembling. Almost by instinct, I entered a bedroom on the third floor. Somehow, it seemed vaguely familiar to me, as if I belonged there. Along one wall was a beautiful little oak bed and a matching dresser with little sphinx faces on the dresser drawer pulls. I’d never seen anything like them before. Graymoor was filled with things like that. Walking through the rooms was like exploring a
museum and discovering unexpected treasures everywhere you looked. Yes, Graymoor had once been beautiful. If only Mark and I could stay there forever! Then, maybe we’d be safe. I sighed and realized that I’d have to content myself with what time the two of us could steal away and be together. I left the bedroom, trudged wearily down the stairway, and headed toward home. Maybe I could sneak out once more tonight and Mark and I could return to Graymoor and be together again, happy and safe.
Scene 5
An Unexpected Friend
Mark My second day as a vampire writhing in the sunlight was only slightly less traumatic than the first. As unpleasant as it was, at least I knew what to expect. There was no dramatic scene with Laura either, although she glared at me with pure hatred whenever our paths crossed in the hallways. My balls still ached a little from when she’d kneed me the day before, a painful reminder of my actions. Of the whole mess, what I’d done to Laura made me feel the worst. I didn’t deserve the taunts, the glares, or the discrimination, but I did deserve every bit of anger she directed at me. I was truly sorry for what I’d done to her. A few more of my classmates spoke to me on the second day, but the number was depressingly low. Most were just too uncomfortable around me to act normal, and some obviously despised me. I could understand the way Laura felt, but I didn’t deserve the hatred of others. It was mainly the guys who were down on me— boys that I’d considered good friends just a short time before now treated me like I was some kind of traitor. It was like they had expected me to go around wearing a sign that said I was gay or something. They reminded me of a bunch of fucking Nazis, hating anyone who was different and using them as a convenient scapegoat for all their problems.
I always knew I had to keep my sexual preference a secret, but I never expected to be treated like a convict by guys I’d considered my friends. Things changed so quickly. One day they were slapping me on the back and telling me how awesome a soccer player I was; the next, they treated me like I’d killed their dog or something! It was hard to believe that my ‘friends’ could turn on me that fast, and for so little reason. It made me appreciate the few real friends that did stick with me all the more. Strangely, the girls were more accepting. I didn’t sense any hatred from them—except Laura, of course, and a few of her friends. Hell, I’d have been pissed too if I was them. I wouldn’t have appreciated someone taking advantage of one of my friends like that, either. Mostly, the girls were curious or just looked at me like some kind of attraction at a circus. I had the feeling that most of them were just really surprised and didn’t know how to handle it. Some of them had flirted with me before and I’m sure a few of them were attracted to me. Finding out I was into guys and not girls must’ve been unsettling for them, but hey, we all had problems. The girls didn’t particularly make me feel at ease, but at least they weren’t sneering at me and calling me ‘fag’ or ‘fairy’ as I walked past. I got tired of the namecalling real quick, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. My instinct was to kick anyone’s ass who dared to call me ‘queer’ or ‘homo’, but there were just too many of them. I couldn’t defend myself against dozens of guys at once, and I’d just get into more
trouble if I got into another fight. So I just took it. Most of the time, my tormenters just muttered names under their breath, or disguised them in a fake cough. It was amazing how many guys had to cough when I was around. But it didn’t really matter how it was done. Being taunted made my life hell on earth. I sat down alone at lunch. I dreaded it. Trying to eat while the entire world is watching you isn’t exactly a picnic. I looked up, and Taylor sat down across from me. That drew plenty of comments from the little Nazis that hated us, because we were different. I could hear their snide comments in the distance, all about what Taylor and I did when we were alone. The harassment was hard to take, but Taylor and I weren’t about to avoid each other just because of what those jerks might say. We’d already been marked as fags, and spending time together wasn’t going to make it any worse. Still, it wasn’t easy. I felt a little better when Brandon and Jon sat down at our table. Those guys had really taken up for us the day before at soccer practice. They were real friends. They acted as if nothing had changed. I can’t describe how good that made me feel. It wasn’t long before Ethan, Nathan , Jordan , and Matt joined us too. That surprised me a little bit. Up to that point, none of them had said anything derogatory to me or Tay , but they’d been kind of keeping their distance. I guess it just took them a little more time. I didn’t blame them for that. I never appreciated my friends more than I did at that moment.
Taylor looked at me and smiled; I knew he was thinking the same thing. When Steve sat down near me, it blew me away. I looked at him and he returned my gaze. He gave me a look that told me he didn’t care if I was gay or not. I guess I’d won his respect when we’d fought at the beach, and my sexual preference didn’t change that. Just when I was starting to get a little bit comfortable, things got unpleasant again. I was eating a cheeseburger and talking to Tay and some of the other guys when I heard the familiar voice of one of my former friends behind me. “Looking for some recruits, faggots?” I knew who it was before I even turned around. It was Devon . Most of the Nazis talked shit under their breath, or yelled it from a distance, but this was Hitler himself. Devon was bound and determined to rip into me and Taylor as much as he possibly could. He delighted in our pain and sought to be the source of it as much as possible. I turned around. His words were a direct attack, and I wasn’t going to take any crap from him. My eyes had barely met his when I heard Jon and Brandon stand up behind me. Devon ’s eyes quickly turned to them and he held up his hands. “I’m not saying anything about you guys. I know you wouldn’t go queer.” “Shut the fuck up, Devon !” yelled Brandon .
“Why are you standing up for this faggot?” asked Devon . “For God’s sake, he’s a fuckin’ queer! A homo!” “That’s enough, Devon !” said Brandon . “You’re not calling any friend of mine those names. Apologize, or I’m gonna kick your ass right now! Do it!” Brandon meant everything he said, and he was quite capable of it. Jon was standing by his side and looked more than willing to help out, although I bet Brandon wouldn’t have needed it. Ethan, Nathan , Jordan , and Matt didn’t say a word, but the way they glared at Devon made their position clear. Devon looked at Steve, but Steve blew him off like he wasn’t even there. I had to fight to keep a little smile from turning up the edges of my mouth. Devon snorted. I could tell he wanted to say something particularly nasty, but he thought better of it. He knew he was seconds away from getting his ass whipped. “Sorrr-ee!” he said, clearly without meaning it, and beat a hasty retreat. The scene had attracted a little crowd and all heads were turned our way. “What are you lookin’ at?” Jon yelled at them. “Get a life.” Everyone turned quickly back to their own business. “Thanks, guys,” I said quietly, going back to my burger.
“Yeah, thanks,” echoed Taylor . “No problem,” said Brandon , as he sat back down. “You guys shouldn’t have to put up with that shit. What business of theirs is your personal life, anyway? I’m not saying I understand it, but you’re my friends, and that’s all that matters.” “Yeah!” said Jon jumping up once again and flexing his muscles as if he was ready to fight off an army. I couldn’t help but laugh and neither could anyone else. It was the first time I could remember laughing in a long time. Too bad all of my friends couldn’t have been like those guys. *** I walked Taylor home again that afternoon. It was one of the few times we could be more or less alone together. We had to pay for it by being on the receiving end of stares and taunts, but it was worth it. We both drew strength from each other, and that’s something we desperately needed. Besides, I loved walking with Taylor , even if it was just for five or ten minutes. I took my leave of him not far from his house and went my own way. I arrived home and there, waiting on me, was one of the last people I expected to see: it was Jennifer. “Hi,” I said, a bit hesitantly as I approached. I didn’t know what to expect from her at all.
“Mark, can we talk?” Her tone was more or less pleasant, which surprised me to no end. “Sure,” I said, curious and just a little suspicious. “Let’s walk,” she suggested. We strolled down the street, silent for a while, then she spoke. “I was really mad at you when you started dating Laura. You weren’t really going with her until that night at the bonfire were you?” “No,” I admitted. “I just told you I was seeing someone to get you off me.” I felt like I had to explain myself to her, so I kept going. “You were kind of, uh... aggressive, and I guess you know now that I’m not interested in that kinda thing, you know?” “You mean with girls?” she asked. “Yeah,” I said quietly. “Look, Jennifer, you’re really great—hell, you’re a knock-out!—and if I was into girls, I’d have been thrilled with what was going on that night, but it’s just... it’s not me. You understand?” “Yeah, I think I do.” She stopped and looked up, smiling at me. “I was really upset that night. I didn’t understand why a good-looking guy like you wasn’t interested in me. I was pretty sure you were lying about dating someone. I mean... I’d never seen you with a girl, and I’d been watching. Then, when I saw you with Laura, it just didn’t make sense! I mean—she’s pretty, and nice, but a little too nice, you know? She’s probably one of those girls that won’t do anything before they’re married.” “Pretty much,” I said.
“But it all makes sense now. I just wish you’d told me the truth.” “I couldn’t do that, Jen. I’m really sorry you got hurt, but I just couldn’t tell you what was really going on. I wasn’t exactly lying either. I was dating someone— Taylor .” She nodded. “I understand. I know why you couldn’t tell me. You could’ve trusted me, but you didn’t know that. I’m not blind. I’ve seen what’s been going on. You don’t deserve all this bullshit.” I shook my head sadly. “Except with Laura. I deserve that and more.” “Probably,” she said quietly, and then looked away. “I just wish everyone could understand!” I said, exasperatingly. “They have all these ideas about what gay guys are like—all these stupid stereotypes that they try to pin on me and Tay, and they just aren’t true!” I felt myself opening up to Jennifer. She was the last person in the world I ever thought I’d be talking to about stuff like this, but she was an attentive listener and I guess I just needed to talk to someone about it. She stared at me thoughtfully, as if seeing me for the first time. “Well, I don’t fully understand you, myself. I mean... aren’t you guys supposed to like dressing like women? I can’t picture you in a dress!” “That’s just it!” I said angrily. “Everyone has all these stupid ideas. I’m sure some gay guys do dress like that, but I don’t, Tay doesn’t, and I bet most gay guys don’t, either. I wish everyone would get that crap out of
their heads and just look at what I am! I feel like I need to explain to everyone I meet now that I don’t want to be a woman, I like being a guy, I don’t molest little kids, I don’t want to seduce every boy I see, and all that.” Jennifer was listening to me quietly. I went on. “I swear, Jen, I’m the same guy I was before everyone found out about me and Tay ! I love soccer, and running, and rock music, and hanging out with my friends. I love fast cars, skateboarding, mountain biking, cheeseburgers, pizza, and action movies. The only difference between me and the people that put me down is that I’m attracted to guys! That’s all. Why should that even matter to them? I could understand if I put the moves on ‘em or something, but I haven’t done shit to those guys! Why should my sexual preference be any more important than what flavor of ice cream I like, what kinda music I listen to, or what I like on my pizza? Why does it have to be such a big deal?” I was ranting. I looked at Jennifer, and immediately felt ashamed that I’d raised my voice so loud. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. She took a step forward and put her hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Mark,” she said. “I kinda understand how you feel. You aren’t any different than you were. Actually, I think it’s cool that you and Tay are going together. You’re cute together! Sure, I’d rather you were going with me, but I understand why you can’t do that.”
“Thanks, Jennifer.” I really meant it and she could tell. “You know, I’d really like for us to be friends, now that you know I can’t be your boyfriend.” She smiled. “I’d really like that, Mark. I’ve always liked you and I’m not just talking about the way you look without a shirt.” She grinned wickedly. “Besides, as your friend, I can still look.” I laughed, and we continued walking together. Without even thinking, I took her hand and she squeezed it tightly. “You know, Mark,” she said thoughtfully, “those guys should be glad you’re gay.” “Huh?” I said, confused. “Well, if guys as hot as you and Tay are gay, that lessens the competition. Look at me. I can’t have you, so now I’ll have to pick one of them. Believe me, if you weren’t gay, they wouldn’t have a chance.” We both laughed. She was only kidding, but what she said did make sense. We kept walking, and talking. It felt good to have a friend, especially one I hadn’t expected. First Steve... then Jennifer... what other surprises awaited me? It seemed that Taylor and I did have a few friends—maybe not many, but at least not everyone hated us.
Taylor “Hey, Taylor ,” said someone from behind me as he tapped my shoulder. I turned just in time to get a fist in the face. I staggered backward, stunned. I was in the hallway at school, and everyone was watching. I looked at the boy who had slugged me. I didn’t even know him. I felt a little trickle of blood running from the corner of my mouth. “Well, pretty boy,” he taunted. “You gonna do somethin’ about it, or are ya just gonna take it like you take it from your faggot boyfriend? Huh?” I didn’t know what to do. The boy picking on me was bigger than me. He had bulging muscles. If I tried to hit him, he’d just flatten me. If I didn’t hit him, he’d still beat the shit out of me. He drew back his fist for another punch, and I braced myself for the inevitable. “Hey, bitch!” It was Brandon . He came up behind the boy harassing me and shoved him. The boy turned around and Brandon decked him. The boy fell to the floor, clutching his face. “Well, stupid fuck, you gonna do somethin’ about it, or are you just gonna take it like you take it from your daddy? Huh?”
Brandon had obviously heard everything the boy had said. He was throwing it back in his face. The boy got up, dusting himself off. “Hey, dude,” he protested, “I don’t want any trouble. I was just...” “I know what you were doing, fucker!” yelled Brandon . He slammed the boy back against the lockers. “If you ever so much as look cross-eyed at Taylor, or Mark, I’ll kick your pathetic little ass. You’ll be dead meat—understand?” The boy nodded, clearly terrified. Brandon wasn’t much bigger than him, but he had enough attitude to frighten anyone out of their wits. He looked like he was just itching to beat the crap out of that kid. “Apologize,” said Brandon . “Now!” “I’m sorry,” said the boy, looking at me with fear in his eyes. “Now get lost, loser!” said Brandon , thumbing to his right. The boy scrambled out of there as fast as he possibly could. “What are you all lookin’ at?” said Brandon to the little crowd that had gathered. They quickly dispersed. He turned back to me. “You okay, Tay ?” asked Brandon quietly, looking at my face. I nodded. “Yeah. I think I just cut my lip a little. I’ll be okay.”
“Let’s go get you cleaned up,” he said, and led me to the restroom. I washed up while Brandon stood guard. I wasn’t hurt bad. One of my teeth had just cut into my lip a little when I got punched in the face, but the bleeding had already stopped. “Thanks for saving my ass,” I said, as I reached for a paper towel. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t come along.” “Hey, that’s what friends are for.” I stared at my face in the mirror. “I feel like such a coward.” “Why?” “You saw me,” I said. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t fight back. I didn’t do anything. If you hadn’t stopped him, I’d have probably just let him punch me in the face again.” “ Tay , you’re no coward.” I shook my head. “I’m sure not a fighter—like you or Mark.” Brandon affectionately put his hand on my shoulder. “Listen, Taylor ,” he said. “Some guys are fighters; some aren’t. It doesn’t mean anything. That guy was a lot bigger than you. He had no business hitting you. Besides—you’re a lover, not a fighter, right?” We both laughed. “At least Mark tells me you’re a good lover,” he said, arching his eyebrows.
I almost couldn’t believe he said that, but it made me laugh. “What else has Mark told you?” “Oh, I get all the juicy details, big boy.” I looked at him a bit shocked. “I’m kidding,” said Brandon smiling. I punched him in the shoulder and grinned. *** Getting punched in the face, especially by a kid I didn’t even know, really shook me up. For the rest of the day, I expected every guy who crossed my path to punch me. I knew it was open season on me and Mark. I was afraid of being beaten up. Getting slugged in the mouth really hurt, and I knew I might get it much, much worse. I was afraid to go anywhere, or do anything. I wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. I’d never liked it when anyone was upset with me, or didn’t like me. In grade school, when I thought some kid didn’t like me, I worried about it, moped around, and got upset. That didn’t happen very often, because I was popular and just about everyone liked me. Now, there were dozens of people that didn’t like me, mainly guys. I couldn’t take two steps in school without some boy glaring at me, or making fun of me. If I could make it from just one class to another without being called ‘faggot,’ I considered myself lucky.
But they just kept at me, and at me. Every minute of the day, I felt like I was under attack, and I guess I was. I often heard giggling behind me and I knew I was being mocked. And then there was the whispering. The boys were the ones that made fun of me, mostly, but both the boys and girls were always whispering when I was around. I knew they were talking about me, and about me and Mark. Everyone was always looking at me. I couldn’t go anywhere without eyes peering at me, staring at me. I couldn’t even go into the restroom to hide because I was afraid I’d get beat up. I couldn’t go into the restroom at all unless Brandon, or Jon, or Ethan went with me as a bodyguard or I’d get hurt. It scared me. I don’t think I could’ve handled it if it wasn’t for Mark. Our parents were hell-bent on keeping us apart, but we were even more determined to be together. Mark met me near my house every morning to walk me to school. He was always there when I arrived, and walked me home from school every afternoon, too. I knew that Mark was watching over me, and that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. I’d never been very aggressive, except in soccer, but I wouldn’t let anyone hurt Mark, either. I’d die for him. Mark kept me going. I drew strength from just being with him. Knowing that he loved me helped me make it through the days, and nights. For the next few nights, we met in the old Graymoor Mansion . Sometimes, we made wild, passionate love that was so intense it was almost unbelievable. At other times, we just lay in each
other’s arms. Making love with Mark was beautiful and wonderful, but just being with him was just as wondrous. I must admit that our lovemaking allowed me to release a lot of pent-up emotion and frustration, but there was nothing better than just curling up with him in a blanket, safe in his arms. I wished I could take Mark home with me. My dad had calmed down after his first, violent outburst, but he was still unpleasant. He didn’t hit me again, in fact he didn’t even touch me, but he made it clear he didn’t approve of me. He thought he was successful at keeping me from seeing Mark, and that seemed to appease him. Still, he’d warned me that I wasn’t to breathe a word about being gay to any of his friends, or the family. I thought that was a little stupid. We were in a small town where everyone knew everyone else’s business. Most of the family lived back in Ohio , but dad’s friends in Verona had to already know I was gay. If I knew Dad, he was probably playing down the whole thing, acting like it was nothing. He was probably explaining it as ‘boys will be boys.’ I knew Dad was really concerned about his reputation. He didn’t want to be known as ‘the guy with a gay son.’ I was very much afraid that he’d order me to start dating a girl, just to keep up appearances. I didn’t know what I’d do if he demanded that, and I was praying he wouldn’t think of it. Mom was taking the whole thing a lot better than Dad, but I knew even she was ashamed of me. Knowing that cut into my heart. Both of my parents were
ashamed of me. They were wrong for feeling that way, but it still hurt. I knew I shouldn’t let it get to me, but it did. I shouldn’t have let the taunts, the name-calling, or the abuse at school get to me either, but I couldn’t help it. It did get to me. I felt like I had this incredible pressure bearing down on me and it got worse every day. I didn’t know how long I’d be able to stand it. Every time some boy called me ‘faggot,’ I felt like I’d been hit in the face. Every time some guy laughed at me or harassed me, it added to my pain. I prayed every day that the abuse would get easier to take, but it didn’t. It was all I could do to keep from bursting into tears. Each day after school, after Mark had walked me home, I locked myself in my room and bawled. I felt weak for crying, but it was all just too much.
Scene 6
The Soccer Team
Mark “Who hit you?” I asked, as I was once again walking Taylor home. I could see his lower lip was bruised and slightly swollen. “I dunno. Some guy I’ve never even seen before,” said Tay ruefully. I looked at him closely. The bruise didn’t look too bad, but it both infuriated and frightened me to know that someone had hit my boyfriend. “Do you remember what he looked like?” When I found that boy, he was going to pay. Taylor could read my intent on my face. “Mark, it’s okay, Brandon took care of it.” “He did?” I asked, surprised. “Yeah, he walked up right after the guy hit me. He decked him.” “Way to go, Brandon !” I said. Tay smiled. “He told him never to bother me or you, or he’d beat the guy senseless—something like that anyway.” Taylor and I sat on a park bench. It was chilly, a typical October afternoon, but it seemed almost cold compared to the unseasonably warm weather we’d been having. I was worried about Taylor . Despite his words, I sensed fear and insecurity within him.
“Are you okay?” I asked him. Taylor was shaking, on the verge of tears, clearly fighting very hard to rein in his emotions. A tear rolled down his cheek and I wiped it away. “I’m scared, Mark.” Even though we were in public view, I pulled Tay to me and hugged him. “I’m sorry, Taylor . I should’ve done a better job of looking out for you. From now on, I’ll make sure either me or Brandon or...” “Mark, you can’t be my bodyguard all the time. I’m sure Brandon and the guys have better things to do with their time, too. Besides, I feel like such a weakling, having someone else fight my battles for me.” “ Taylor , you’re not weak,” I protested. “I feel like I am.” “I don’t think you’d find any of our soccer opponents that would agree with that.” He shook his head. “This is different, Mark. I’m not like you. When Steve was giving you shit at the beach, you didn’t take it. You just punched him. You weren’t afraid at all—you didn’t even hesitate. You just went after him.” I sighed. “Yeah, like a hothead. It was stupid and I got the crap beat out of me.” “You won,” Tay pointed out. “Yeah, but I still got the shit beat out of me. Anyway, this is different! That boy attacked you...”
“Which is all the more reason I should’ve defended myself,” Taylor said angrily. “When he hit me, I just... stood there! He was about to hit me again, and I was still just standing there. If Brandon hadn’t come along, I don’t know what I’d have done. I think I’d have just let that guy keep punching me.” I reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “ Tay , listen to me. You’ve never been in a fight before. You’re such a nice guy that no one’s ever given you any trouble. You’re dealing with something totally new, so it’s a shock. Now me—I’m kind of a hothead sometimes, and let’s face it, I can be a jerk. I’ve been in a few fights because I’ve pissed guys off, so if some asshole comes up and slugs me in the face, I’m more used to it. I’ve been there before, so I snap into action. You didn’t, because you’ve never faced this before. You can’t expect to know what to do the very first time it happens. That’s like expecting to know all about algebra or something on the very first day of class!” He looked away from me. “Maybe you’re right, I don’t know.” “Tell me this. What are you gonna do if that guy comes up and punches you in the face again? Think about it before you answer.” I looked at Taylor ’s handsome face. He was thinking it over. He looked very upset, but then I saw a glimmer of determination. “I’m gonna try to knock his teeth out,” said Taylor angrily.
I grinned. “You don’t sound like a coward to me. The first time, he took you by surprise. If something like that happens again, you’ll know what to do.” “Mark, I don’t even know how to punch!” he protested. “Here,” I said, grabbing his hand. “Make a fist.” I could feel his hand trembling slightly as he closed his fist. “Okay,” I said, standing up. “Now, the only thing you have to remember is to keep your thumb on the outside.” “Why?” he asked. “Because you can break it if you keep it on the inside.” “Oh.” He looked down at his right hand, then made a fist with his left. “The rest is simple,” I said. “Just draw your arm back and punch. If he blocks you, punch him with the other fist! Here, stand up. I’ll show you.” Taylor stood and we faced each other. “Okay, now I want you to punch me. I’m gonna block you, then you punch with the other fist.” “I don’t want to hurt you.” I laughed. “Well, don’t punch me hard! Besides, I know it’s coming, so I can block it.”
Taylor threw a weak punch and I deflected it. Then, he punched with his left and managed to make slight contact with my face. “Not bad, but lemme show you something.” I held my fists up in a ready position, then punched out into the air while I counted. “One, two. One, two. See how it works.” “Yeah.” “Try it.” Taylor followed my lead. He was kind of awkward at first, but he had a good, natural rhythm. “Now, if you swing for a guy’s face, he’s gonna duck out of the way, so it’s kinda hard to hit him in the face with the second punch. It’s easier to go for a body blow. Watch.” I demonstrated in slow motion. I punched at Tay ’s face. He blocked me, then I punched him lightly in the stomach. “See, you moved your head, but your body didn’t move that much. Okay, now I want you to try it on me. Punch harder this time, Tay . Really let me have it.” “What if I hurt you?” “Don’t worry about that. I know it’s coming, so I’ll be prepared.” Taylor made a hard jab for my face. I knocked his hand to the side. His next punch caught me in the chest. “Good. Good. Do it again, only harder—much harder. Don’t worry, you won’t hurt me.”
I wasn’t entirely sure about that, but I wanted Tay to be able to defend himself. He hesitated. “Come on, Tay ,” I implored. “I want you to come at me with everything you’ve got. Only two punches, though!” He bit his lip for a moment, then swung at me. His punch was much harder this time. I blocked it, but he had me off balance and landed a sharp uppercut to my stomach. I tightened my abs just in time, but it still hurt like hell. I let out a loud “ommpf.” “I hurt you!” said Taylor as he jumped forward, clearly upset. “I’m okay, really,” I said, holding my stomach as I leaned back down on the bench. “Damn, you’re getting good at this.” Taylor smiled. “Listen, we’ll practice this some more later, but you see how it works?” “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “See? You’re not weak—you just needed someone to show you how to do it.” “Maybe, but will I have the courage to fight if someone punches me?” “You will. You know how to punch now. That’ll give you confidence. You can do it, Taylor .” I could tell he wasn’t at all sure of himself, but at least he knew how to throw a good punch or two.
“If someone slugs you like that asshole did,” I advised, “don’t hold back. Really let him have it! You saw what happened when you punched hard at me. I knew it was coming and you still got me off balance. Oh—that reminds me of something. I forgot to show you how to stand. You’ve gotta plant your feet. Here.” I got up and demonstrated. I’d never tried to teach anyone how to fight before, so I wasn’t the best at it. But I wanted to show Tay some stuff he could really use, in any case. “One more thing—if someone attacks you, don’t hesitate to get nasty, especially if he doesn’t back off after you punch him once or twice. Don’t be afraid to knee him right in the nuts. It doesn’t matter how strong he is, or how tough—a good shot to the nads will definitely take him down.” “That seems... I dunno,” said Tay , shaking his head. “It doesn’t seem fair or something.” “So what he’s trying to do to you is fair? You’re right, it’s something that’s not done in most fights. It wouldn’t have been cool at all if me or Steve had done it when we were fighting, but if some punk attacks you from out of nowhere, then there’s no rules. If some jerk comes up and punches you, he deserves whatever he gets.” Tay nodded. I could tell he was still frightened, but he seemed to be feeling better. It wasn’t fair that guys were picking on him. He was such a kind, sensitive kid who didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just hoped he’d be able to defend himself if anyone else attacked him.
Despite what I’d told him, I wasn’t sure. I was determined to watch out for him even more than I had before, and I intended to talk to Brandon and Jon about it too. I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone hurting my Taylor. *** Brandon and Jon had been standing up for me and Tay , but they really showed what great friends there were the weekend after we were outed. Our soccer team was playing in a regional match against the Trojans, and if we won, we’d be getting close to earning a spot in the state championship game. Needless to say, everyone was excited about that possibility. We were traveling further than ever, so the whole team would once again be staying overnight in a motel. It was quite unlike our earlier trip, however; that became quite clear very fast. I was about to sit next to Tay on the bus when Coach McFadden yelled at me. “Mark! Not there! Find another seat, tinkerbell!” The homophobic crowd snickered at that, and my face immediately reddened in embarrassment. Coach McFadden had never been a favorite of mine. He was way too obsessed with winning at any cost. He’d been a real jerk ever since my dad called him and narked me out. I’m sure Coach would’ve kicked both Tay and me off the team if he wasn’t so obsessed with winning, but he knew as well as anyone that without us, the team
didn’t stand a chance. I know that sounds conceited as hell on my part, but it was true. I glanced around for a kind face, but most of the guys were avoiding my gaze. The few who were looking at me were openly glaring at me in contempt. Those guys had been riding Tay and me all week, but with the coach’s backing, they were bolder than ever. They were like a pack of wolves, drawing strength from each other—my apologies to wolves for the comparison. As I walked down the aisle, it was amazing how many of those guys had to cough, and how much those coughs sounded like ‘fairy’ and ‘faggot.’ I was so humiliated. Knowing that Taylor was witnessing it all made it that much worse. Just a short time before, I’d counted every last one of those guys as friends. We were a team, almost a family. All that had changed now. Most of them were too uncomfortable to even talk to me, and a few hated me with a vengeance. It had been a really tough week. My nerves were frayed and it was almost more than I could bear. “Hey, Mark! Over here!” said Brandon , getting up out of his seat. I smiled my thanks and took his place beside Jon. Brandon walked up and dropped into the seat next to Tay . Coach McFadden gave Brandon a glare for that, but Brandon just glared right back at him until Coach knocked it off. The Nazis didn’t like it either. They tried staring Brandon down as well, but he shrugged them off and they immediately backed down. I tried not
to let those guys get to me, desperately convincing myself that it didn’t matter, but my heart was breaking inside. Only Jon saw the single tear that ran down my cheek. Jon was a real friend. He smiled at me wanly, patted my knee, and then plunged into his analysis of our upcoming game. He jerked my mind away from my troubles and onto soccer. Jon knew how much I loved the game—hell, everyone on the team knew. I glanced up at Taylor and he was quietly talking with Brandon . I relaxed. He was in good hands for the moment. We were lucky to have such good friends. I wouldn’t ever forget what those guys had done for us. I know I keep repeating that, but that’s how important their friendship was to me. I could say it a thousand times and it still wouldn’t be enough. One never realizes how important the support of friends is, until it’s gone. *** Coach didn’t play Taylor or me during the entire first half. During every preceding game, both of us had been on the field for nearly the entire game. Coach only took us out when we were ready to drop. That had changed. Now, he subbed everyone else in but us. I kept waiting for him to call my name, but he never did, not once. Now that coach knew Taylor and I were gay, it changed everything. It seemed he wasn’t going to play us at all. I doubted that, however. If he weren’t going to use us, he would’ve kicked us off the team. That’s the kind of
person he was. Maybe he was just punishing us for being gay. Our teammates noticed our lack of game time, too. Brandon and Jon were annoyed and angered by it. Devon and his Nazis smirked in triumph and patted each other on the back for keeping the ‘queers’ out of their game. Most of the guys just took their places on the field with discomfort. Matt actually apologized to me as he ran onto the field. I know he felt genuinely bad about what was going on, but it made me feel like crap. I didn’t want to be the object of pity, and I was hurt and mad as hell. I looked over at Tay and I could see how upset he was. He knew we were being singled out, and he knew why. Seeing his pain deepened my own feelings. I was cut to the quick, and furious at the same time. Coach was sabotaging the entire team, just to get at Taylor and me. By half time, we were down 0-3. The team we were playing wasn’t even all that tough! The Trojans had a reputation as a hard team to beat, but what I saw on the field didn’t impress me all that much. I don’t mean to sound conceited, but Tay and I were both kick-ass players, and our team would’ve definitely been in the lead if coach had played us. Brandon and Jon were complaining loudly for him to do just that, and a few of the ‘neutrals’ were beginning to murmur as well. Things were getting ugly on the bench and the field. I felt responsible for a few moments, but it wasn’t my fault. It was coach who couldn’t deal with my sexuality. It was his problem and
he was inflicting it on the entire team. Still, being at the center of yet another conflict made me sick to my stomach. I looked at coach in disgust. That was what he was after. He was intentionally trying to hurt Taylor and me. He knew that when he put us in, we’d win the game for him. He could make us feel like crap, and then use us to win. I was pissed. I had half a mind to refuse to play when he finally did put me in. I didn’t want to play for him! But no, it wasn’t just coach I’d be hurting—it was the team. True, some of them deserved to be hurt, but most of them didn’t. I wasn’t going to sink to coach’s level. I’d play and I’d do my damnedest to win. I wouldn’t do it for him or the Nazis. I’d do it for me, Taylor, Brandon, Jon, and all those other guys on the team who didn’t hate me because I was different. The murmuring quickly grew into complaining. The Nazis didn’t like that, because it was a show of support for Taylor and me. No, they couldn’t have that! “Guys, quit complaining,” said Devon , “We’ll kick their asses! We just need to punch up our defense and get aggressive.” “We can’t do it without Taylor and Mark,” said one of our teammates who had so far remained silent about the two of us. There were a few muttered, “yeas” from the neutrals. That lit a fire under Devon . “We don’t need the fairies playin’ on our team! They might get hurt and start crying!” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Shut up, Devon !” Brandon stalked over to him. He was enraged. I’d never seen him that pissed before. His muscled bulged. If Devon had any sense at all, he would’ve shut his mouth. “No! Why the fuck are you always taking up for them? What are you—some kinda faggot-lover?” That was exactly the wrong thing to say. Brandon grabbed Devon by the throat and punched him so hard in the face that at first I thought he’d killed him. Devon hit the dirt, unconscious. Our entire team, our opponents, and most of the crowd just gawked. Coach grabbed Brandon and sat him down on the bench. “You’re out of the game, asshole!” Gee, coach always knew just what to say. I thought Brandon was going to jump up and kick his ass, but he controlled his temper. It was a good thing for coach, too. Brandon would’ve beaten the shit out of him if he’d started. Brandon definitely wasn’t someone to fuck with. He was sitting on the bench, seething with fury. Devon ’s buddies were keeping as far away from him as they could, and even the neutrals had drawn back. Only Jon dared to draw near. Coach McFadden and one of the referees carried Devon off to a nurse’s station. Devon was out cold. The whole fight had involved only two hits: Brandon ’s fist hitting Devon , and Devon hitting the ground. I covered my face with my hands for a few moments. I couldn’t believe what was happening. What had gone wrong with my life? Taylor sat near me, shocked. The mix of
emotions on his face was hard to read. He looked like he was so wound up, he was ready to explode. The second half continued and things went from bad to worse. Our team couldn’t make a goal to save their lives. The Trojans ran the score up to 0-6. With less than ten minutes left, Coach finally relented and subbed in both Taylor and I. He put Brandon back in as well. He held out as long as he could, but in the end, he had to play us. I was beginning to wonder there for a while. I really thought he might blow his shot at a championship just so we couldn’t play. I was right the first time, however. The only thing more important to coach than his vendetta against us was winning. Coach had always been obsessed with winning. Nothing was more important to him than that. He’d cheat, lie, scream at his players, do anything it took to win. He did win a lot of games, but he was still a loser in my eyes. I knew Coach was just using us, but I was playing for the team, not him. I hadn’t been on the field for two minutes before I scored. I was so pumped up with emotion that no one could stop me. Taylor and Brandon seemed to have the same advantage going for them. Before another two minutes had passed, they had each scored as well. The Nazis were still up to their old tricks. They wouldn’t even pass the ball to Taylor or me. What a bunch of shit heads. We didn’t need them, however. Everyone else was working together like crazy to win. With thirty-four seconds to go we tied up the game. Our opponents headed for our goal, seeking a win. I
swiped the ball from an astonished Trojan and booted it down field. Tay zipped in and captured it before our opponents could kick it back. The clock ran down as we jockeyed for position. Our opponents were fierce in their defense. There were no openings anywhere. We were passing like crazy, but to no avail. Brandon booted the ball back to me, but there was just no way I could kick for a goal. Tay broke into the open for a split-second. I shot the ball to him and, just before the whistle, he fired it into the goal. Our team went crazy; the Trojans were crushed. I looked over at Coach. He was elated with the win, but he was intentionally ignoring Tay . He didn’t even want to give him credit for the winning goal. Brandon, Taylor, and I had saved his sorry ass, but I knew we’d never hear a word of thanks or encouragement from him. Devon ’s little crew actually looked pissed that Tay had made the winning goal. The hatred those guys had for us was unreal. Without us, they would’ve lost for sure. There was no way they could’ve failed to realize that, and yet they scowled at us in anger. They just couldn’t give it up, not even for a few minutes. We piled in the bus for the short ride to our motel. To offset our bit of well-earned happiness, Devon ’s crew toiled at making our lives a living hell. Devon stepped onto the bus with a major bruise on his face. There was hatred in his eyes when he looked at Brandon , but he didn’t dare say a word. He’d learned his lesson. His fear of Brandon didn’t stop him from leaning over and whispering in my ear, however.
“I’m gonna get you fuckers. Just you wait,” he hissed like some wild lunatic. He shouldered me as he went on and sat with his little group of followers. They whispered, looked at Tay and me, and laughed. I never could hear what they were saying, but they made it clear that they were cutting us down. I tried to ignore them and talk to Jon, but they were hard to ignore. I noticed Tay was having the same problem sitting with Brandon. *** I was assigned to room with Brandon , and Taylor was put in with Jon. It wasn’t what either Taylor or I wanted, but we knew for sure coach wouldn’t put us together. Yeah, that was going to happen! Still, it was much better than it could’ve been. We could’ve been assigned to room with Devon , or one of his Nazi friends. Now that would’ve been a real riot. After supper, Brandon and I settled in and watched some TV. Brandon pulled off his shirt and made himself comfortable. His torso rippled with hard muscle. Brandon was strong. I was glad he was on my side. He noticed me looking at him, but instead of freaking out and being all worried over whether or not I was checking him out, he asked me something that surprised me.
“Mark, how do you think I look? I mean, you’re attracted to guys and all that. What do you think of me? What do you think the girls think?” “Well,” I paused, feeling a little awkward. “Honestly, I think you’re hot. You’ve got a great body, cool hair, and you’re totally good-looking. You’re damned nice, too, and you’re not stuck on yourself, and that makes you extremely attractive. I’m sure girls see you the same way.” “Thanks,” he said. I could tell he really meant it. It was wonderful to have someone who could be so comfortable around me. Brandon didn’t give a damn that I was gay, anymore than he cared what TV show I liked best. My sexual orientation was just another part of me. He was my friend and he accepted me as I was—all of me. “Listen, Brandon ... thanks for sticking up for me and Tay back there,” I said. “We don’t have many friends these days.” “Don’t mention it, Mark. Those faggots....” Brandon stopped in mid-sentence. He looked at me. Pain and embarrassment were etched on his face. “I’m sorry, Mark, I didn’t mean...” “ Brandon , I understand. Everyone uses that term without thinking. Hell, even I have. I can’t say I like it, or that it doesn’t hurt sometimes, but it’s just the way it is.” “I’m sorry, man,” said Brandon , then picked up where he left off. “Anyway, those bastards shouldn’t be
allowed to get away with that crap. When Devon started talkin’ shit, I just couldn’t take it anymore. You guys shouldn’t have to put up with that. You aren’t hurting anyone, and what you do is nobody’s business but your own.” “I do appreciate what you did,” I said. “It really means a lot to me, and I’m sure it does to Taylor as well. I won’t forget it.” “You’re gonna embarrass me if you keep talking like this!” he laughed. “Okay, I’ll stop. But thanks.” “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! Stop it!” It was great to joke around with another guy, without him acting like I was checking him out or trying to get into his pants. With Brandon , I could just be me. “Mark,” Brandon said slowly. “When did you... did you first know? Know you were attracted to guys, I mean?” I thought for a few moments. “It’s hard to say, really,” I replied. “I mean, it’s been pretty definite for a couple of years, but I’m not sure when I really knew. I’m sure I’ve always been attracted to other guys, but I’m not sure when I realized it. I mean, all guys admire other guys to some extent. It’s hard to say when I figured out that my feelings went farther, you know? Maybe when I was eleven or twelve. Maybe earlier than that.” “It must be really tough for you,” he said.
I sighed. “You have no idea! Even before all this happened, it was so difficult. I mean, I just felt so different from everyone else, y’know? I mean, I was like all the other guys, but at the same time, I wasn’t. Ah, it’s just too hard to explain. You’d have to experience it to understand.” Brandon looked thoughtful. I could tell something else was on his mind. “Mark, if a guy did something with another guy, just once—would that make him gay?” I could tell Brandon was really concerned. “What do you mean?” He hesitated. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone else about this—okay? Not even Taylor ?” “I promise,” I said. The room was silent. It was a long time before Brandon spoke. It was clear that he was having great difficulty forcing the words out. “A couple of years ago... one of my friends was over and we were wrestling around. We both got kinda excited, and he noticed my shorts were kinda... bulged out, you know?” “Yeah.” He cleared his throat nervously. “Well, he dared me to take it out and show it to him. It was kind of exciting, forbidden... so I said okay, if he’d pull out his too. We did it. He reached over and well... you know.” I nodded.
“Well,” Brandon paused for a moment. “I did the same to him until we both... you know. We did it together. So does that mean I’m gay?” “Did you guys do anything else, then or later?” I asked. “No.” “You ever done anything with any other guy?” “No.” “Ever think about it, or dream about it?” He shook his head. “Nope, it was just a one-time thing. It just kinda... happened. It felt good, so we did it. I liked it.” I chuckled. “ Brandon , you’re not gay, believe me. You just experimented with another guy. I think a lotta guys do that, although most of ‘em probably wouldn’t admit it. If you were really gay, you’d be thinking about doing stuff with guys all the time. Besides, I happen to know you’re girl-crazy! I don’t think you could get any further from being gay!” Brandon smiled. “I’ve always wondered. I mean, I’ve never thought I was gay, but still... Thanks, Mark.” He seemed completely relieved. I was glad to be able to help out Brandon , but what passed between us wounded me a bit. Why did he have to be so worried about whether or not he was gay? It was like being gay was some kind of disease or something, and Brandon was afraid he’d caught it. He was far more accepting than others, but the fear of it
was still there. I pulled my mind away from being hurt. Brandon was a good friend—one of a rare few—and no one was perfect. I sure as hell wasn’t. Brandon looked at his watch. He got up and walked to the door. “Come on,” he said. “Where?” “Just come on.” I slipped on my shoes and followed. He led me to Taylor and Jon’s room. He softly knocked and we entered. “You ready?” asked Brandon quietly. “Just lemme get my toothbrush,” answered Jon. He grabbed it and went to the door. “Goodnight, guys,” said Brandon , as he walked back outside. “Have fun,” said Jon, with a wink. With that, our two buddies disappeared, leaving Taylor and I alone. Tay looked as surprised as I was. It was as wonderful as it was unexpected. Brandon and Jon really were great friends. I was thrilled, but it was clear that something was really wrong with Tay . He ran to me and wrapped his arms around me. “Hold me, Mark.” I hugged him tight and he started crying, not just a little either. It was like a dam had burst. I held him close and ran my fingers through his hair.
“It’s gonna be okay, Taylor . We’ll get through all this—you’ll see.” With that, he cried harder still, his warm tears soaking my shirt. I just held him and tired to comfort him. Pretty soon, I was crying too. The whole week really had been too much. My nerves were frayed and I felt so very insecure. I was holding up much better than Tay , but even I was on the verge of a breakdown. What must it have been like for him? He was so sensitive. Taylor was sixteen, but in some ways, he was still very much a little boy. I held him and gently swayed back and forth. I would’ve done anything to make everything okay. I loved him so much, it almost hurt. I felt his pain more keenly than my own. After a long while, Tay stopped crying. He led me to the bed and we sat on the edge. He gazed at the floor, more depressed and upset than I’d ever seen him. “ Tay , it’ll be okay,” I said soothingly. “You’ll see.” “It won’t, you know!” he cried, turning to me and peering at me with his bright eyes. “I love you, Mark, and I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you know as well as I do that it’s not gonna be okay. It’ll never be okay!” “ Tay .” I reached out and grasped his chin. He pushed my hand away. “It’s always gonna be like this, or worse!” he wailed. “You’ve seen how they look at us, how they treat us!
The things they say! If our own teammates treat us like this, what can we expect from everyone else?” “No one else has tried to hit you, have they?” I asked. “No, but I’ve been called ‘fag’ so many times I’ve lost count. Guys are always glaring at me, shoving me, and pushing me around. Someone keeps putting notes in my locker.” “Notes?” I asked. This was something new. “What do they say?” “The same shit guys say to my face, only worse. Stuff like; ‘Die Faggot’, ‘Watch your back instead of boy’s asses, queer’, ‘I hope you die and burn in hell, fag!’, stuff like that.” I sighed. “I’m so sorry, Tay .” Taylor was fighting hard not to start crying again. “They hate us, Mark! I can’t take it anymore! It’s too much! People who I thought were my friends! My own parents! I just can’t handle it!” “Not everyone is like that,” I pointed out. “Yeah, but most are, Mark... most of them are!” Taylor started crying again and I pulled him to me once more. Taylor rocked back and forth on the bed, completely hysterical now. He was really scaring me. “I can’t live like this, Mark! I just can’t! I won’t!” My blood turned to ice to hear those words. I knew he meant it. Taylor wasn’t exaggerating for effect—he really meant it.
God help us , I silently prayed. I held Tay close as he cried, trying to soothe him with words, but I don’t know if he even heard me. He seemed out of his mind with sorrow and grief. I didn’t know how to handle our problems, but I’d find a way. Somehow, I’d be strong enough for us both. I finally managed to calm Tay down, at least partially. I put my hand on the back of his neck and gently pulled his face to mine and kissed him. He returned my kiss with passion and great hunger—not a physical hunger, not a hunger for sex, but an intense hunger for love and acceptance. Tay needed to be loved and I did love him, with all my heart. That night, I made love to him with my body as well as my soul. For a few hours, we lost ourselves in each other’s embrace. For that brief interval of time, we shut everything out except for our love for each other. It was one of the most beautiful nights of my life.
Taylor I awoke sometime in the early hours of the morning. Mark was still sleeping peacefully by my side. His hair was all messy, but he was still beautiful. He looked like a little boy. The alarm clock read 3:17 a.m. I quietly got up and went to the window. I drew back the curtain and looked out into the cold blue of the morning. I wished that Mark and I could just run away. I’d seriously thought about talking to him about it. The idea was frightening, but could it be any worse than our lives now? It was almost two whole years before we’d both be eighteen and could graduate from high school. Could we hold out that long? Every day was filled with torment, and there was no escape from it. I felt like I was in some kind of hopeless nightmare, from which there was no way out. Mark put up a brave front. He didn’t say much about what was happening to him. I knew everyone was giving him a hard time, but he didn’t let on. Mark was a lot tougher than I was, and a lot stronger, but I knew he was having a difficult time, too. He might not talk about it, but I could clearly see the strain and sorrow on his face. I’d given him a back-rub before we’d went to sleep and I couldn’t believe the tension in his body. His muscles were so tense; he was tied up in knots. He’d cried when he was holding me, too. I know part of it
was because I was crying, but his heart ached, just like mine. We’d been singled out and were the objects of scorn and ridicule. How could we possibly survive? I thought of Brandon and Jon. They’d given us this night together, making it possible for us to hold each other, comfort each other. More than that, they were there for us. Brandon and Jon hadn’t known me all that long, but they looked out for me as if I was their little brother. I could understand them looking out for Mark, but to be so concerned about me showed how truly good and kind they were. They gave me hope. Their presence meant that Mark and I weren’t totally alone in the world, that it wasn’t just the two of us against everyone else. We really did have a few friends, and Brandon and Jon were foremost among them. I thought of our other friends, such as Ethan and Nathan. They weren’t there for us like Brandon and Jon, but they stood by us in their way. At least they spoke to us and ate with us, and they didn’t treat us as if we were monsters. Their support might be quiet and unobtrusive, but I appreciated it nonetheless. Without their support, I really don’t think I could’ve made it this far. I thought of Devon and all those who hated us so— all the boys that called us ‘fags.’ There were so many of them. For every friend there were a hundred enemies. I couldn’t stand being so hated. It tore into me. I guess I’d never been that strong, and I felt like I just couldn’t stand it for a moment longer.
I feared what the next day might bring. Would I be spit on? Would I get beat up? I already knew I’d be taunted, harassed, and called names. That was my life now. Those things were going to happen, just as surely as the sun would rise. What else did the future have in store for me? I shuddered when I began to think about it. My thoughts were too painful. I crawled back into bed beside Mark, lay my head on his chest and listened to the sound of his heart. Even in his sleep, he wrapped his arms around me and held me close. Oh, how I wished we could’ve stayed like that forever! The rest of my life might be a living hell, but being with Mark... there were just no words to describe my contentment when I was with him. I closed my eyes and fell asleep, listening to Mark’s heartbeat. God had mercy on me, and I dreamed no dreams. *** A couple days later, I was back at school. It was just before third period, and I was hurrying to my next class. “Hey, fag.” I turned at the sound of a voice. It was Jeremy, one of the guys from my soccer team. He always glared at me in the locker room, but this was the first time he’d actually spoken to me. Of course, he just had to call me that name. I was so sick of being called ‘fag’ that I just
wanted to stuff my ears full of cotton and walk around like I was deaf. Jeremy started pushing me around in the nearly deserted hallway. “God, I hate you queers,” he said, and slugged me in the face. I tried to block his punch like I’d seen Mark do, but I wasn’t successful. My effort wasn’t a total failure; Jeremy only struck me a glancing blow. It still hurt, though. I was scared. I began to cower, but I caught myself. No. Mark had taught me how to punch. I wasn’t gonna let this punk beat me up without at least trying to defend myself. I pulled my fists up and held them like Mark had shown me. I planted my right foot and got ready to swing. “Awww, is the little queer gonna try to hit me?” mocked Jeremy. That was it. I let him have it. I threw a quick right, but Jeremy was ready for me. He blocked my clumsy effort with ease. He even laughed at me, but he didn’t laugh for long. I gave him a quick upper cut to the stomach as hard as I could, and was rewarded with a loud “Ommpf!” as Jeremy doubled over. “Leave me alone, asshole!” I told him, holding my fists up in case he came back at me. Jeremy took a step back and held his stomach. “Queer,” he spat, as he walked away from me. I leaned back against the lockers and let out a long breath. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding it. I smiled.
I’d done it. I’d defended myself instead of acting like a little coward. I knew I was far from safe, but at least I’d stood up for myself. I was proud of myself for that, and I knew Mark would be too.
Act 4
The Last Days
Scene 1
From Bad to Worse
Mark “Hey! Mark!” someone yelled from far behind me in the hall. I turned to see three football players, several yards away. One of them—his name was Brent, I think—was the one that called out my name over the heads of dozens of our classmates. “You wanna suck my dick after school? I’ve heard you’re giving blow-jobs to any guy who wants one.” Brent and his buddies guffawed loudly. They thought they were funny as hell. I was pissed. I took a couple of steps forward, but then thought better of it. There were three of them, and one of me. Instead of confronting them, I turned and walked away. “You sure, Mark?” yelled Brent or whatever his name was. “I hear you really, really like cock! Come on! I’ll make you my little bitch! I hear you get into that shit, too!” The football players laughed some more, at my expense. My face turned totally red. Everyone was looking at me. Some of my classmates were laughing. Some looked embarrassed for me. I was humiliated. How I longed to return to the days when I could walk down the halls without being the butt of every joke. ***
Days passed and little improved. If anything, the situation was worse. The stares, the derogatory comments, and the discrimination went on. Teachers stood by and did nothing while my classmates called me ”fag” and “queer,” even right out loud in class. True, some teachers intervened, but most of them just let it slide, like it was okay to treat someone like that if they were gay. It was as if the laws, rules, and even the very idea of treating others with respect meant nothing, simply because I was gay. I wondered a lot about all the guys that just had to call me a fag. I read something somewhere, maybe in a magazine in a doctor’s office when I was younger, that came to mind now. It said that a homophobe is a guy who is not secure in his heterosexuality. I didn’t understand it completely when I read it, but it made sense now. I think most of the guys giving Taylor and me a hard time were terrified that they might be homosexuals. They lashed out at Taylor and me to prove to everyone that they weren’t gay, maybe just to prove to themselves that they weren’t. A handful of friends stood by me, but their numbers were depressingly low. Most of the people I knew—or thought I knew—distanced themselves from me. I knew I was still the same person, but to them I was someone else entirely. My life was a living hell. I couldn’t go for ten minutes without being cut down or finding myself on
the receiving end of a hateful stare. I just couldn’t get over the idea that some of my classmates actually hated me. Hate—the real thing! They acted as if I’d killed their best friend or something, and all because I was gay. I tried not to let it get me down, but I failed. Happiness was driven from my life. All I had was Tay . Taylor . I was sick with worry over him. I never saw him smile or laugh anymore. His once sparkling eyes were dull, his spirit crushed by continual abuse. I guess I couldn’t blame him. I was far less sensitive than Tay , and even I was on the verge of a breakdown. Even the things he once enjoyed didn’t snap him out of it. Once, Taylor was a wild boy during soccer practice, a real terror on the field. All that was gone now. He just went through the motions—joyless, emotionless. It was if someone had come along and sucked the life right out of him. It made my heart ache. One of the happiest people I knew couldn’t even smile. I tried to help him, tried to ease his pain, but Tay wouldn’t be comforted. Even when he kissed me, it wasn’t the same. I knew he still loved me, but his heart was heavy. He couldn’t break free of the sadness and brutality of his life. I watched helpless as he slipped further and further into darkness. It was like watching someone you dearly love die, a little at a time. I feared for him... I wanted desperately to help, but I was powerless. My own life wasn’t much better. My only comfort, my only hope, was Taylor , and he’d become a desperate worry. My own troubles were beating me into
the ground, and Taylor ’s problems were crushing my will to fight back. My life hit a new low one afternoon during soccer practice. Taylor was so down he actually walked off the field in the middle of a practice game. I called out to him, but he didn’t answer. He just walked away. My heart wasn’t in the game much after that, but I stuck it out, just as I was determined to keep going with my life in general. I lingered on the field before going in for a shower. I knew I wasn’t welcome there and I waited for the crowd to clear out. When I finally came in, the place was deserted. I showered, then went to the locker room to dress. I’d just pulled on my boxers when I heard someone enter the locker room. I looked up. It was Devon and three of his Nazis. The color drained from my face. I wished I were anywhere but there. Devon smiled at me, but it was a cold, wicked smile, steeped in spite and hatred. “I’ve been waitin’ for a chance like this, faggot. I told you I was gonna get you. Now I’m gonna fuck you up bad.” Devon pounced on me. Before I could even raise my arms to defend myself, he slammed me back against the locker doors, his forearm crushing my throat. I couldn’t breathe. I fought to break free, but two of his buddies each held one of my arms in place, while the third just stood back and laughed at me. I couldn’t get over how chicken-shit they were—four of them to beat up on one little faggot.
Devon pulled his fist back and doubled me over with a sharp punch to my stomach. As I doubled over, he kneed me in the face, busting my lip, loosening my teeth. I tasted blood. Before I could even begin to recover, he kicked me in the nuts, full force. I groaned in pain and hit the floor. Devon savagely kicked me in the ribs. “Stand up, fucker! Get up, faggot, so I can give you some more!” He kept kicking me. I thought I’d pass out from the pain. I wanted to do so desperately. It was unbearable. Devon ’s buddies pulled me to my feet. They had to hold me upright, since I couldn’t stand on my own. My head was spinning, my stomach felt like it had been ripped apart, and my balls felt like they were crushed. “You wanna suck my dick, Mark?” Devon taunted. “I bet you do, don’t you, queer?” He nodded to his buddies and they forced me down on my knees. I struggled, but it was useless. There was one of them on each arm. In my weakened state, I didn’t stand a chance. “Come on, Mark, suck me,” said Devon . He unfastened his belt and pulled it off. He popped the button on his jeans and unzipped them. It was a nightmare. “You wanna show me what you do for Taylor ? Do you, Mark?” Devon pushed down his jeans. He was wearing only boxers. I felt sick. I knew Devon and his friends could
make me do anything they wanted. They had me. I struggled, but there were too many of them. Devon stepped nearer. He slugged me hard in the face. “I bet you’d fuckin’ do it—wouldn’t you, fag?” I was pulled to my feet again. Devon ’s friends whipped me around and slammed me into the lockers. I fought like mad, but it was no use. In seconds, Devon had my right arm twisted behind my back. “Stop struggling or I’m fuckin’ break it! I swear I will!” He twisted it harder and I cried out in pain. Devon tied my hands behind my back with his belt. When my wrists were secured, he ripped me back around and smiled at me wickedly. “Maybe you’d like somethin’ else better than blowing me. I bet you take it up the ass, don’t you, Mark? Maybe all of us should take turns fucking you. Oh, wait—you can’t rape the willing, can you, faggot? Or in your case, you can’t rape the eager. I bet you’d get off on it, wouldn’t you, queer? I guess we’ll find out real fast.” Devon and his buddies laughed. I was more terrified at that moment than I ever had been in my entire life. Devon and his thugs gathered around me in a tight circle. They weren’t just going to beat me; they were going to rape me. I fought not to let my fear show, but I was trembling. Alex and Jeremy each grabbed one of my arms and dragged me over to the bench between the lockers. They forced me down on my knees and bent me over
the bench. I tried to stand, but Jeremy pounded me in the back whenever I tried to move. “It’ll only be worse if you struggle, queer boy,” said Jeremy. Devon ripped down my boxers. I could hear him behind me. Oh, God! I thought. They’re really going to do it. They’re really going to rape me! “I guess you’re a fag too, huh, Devon ?” I said. Alex nailed me in the back for that and I cried out in pain. My voice trembled as I spoke. “Only a fag would rape another boy—you know it’s true.” “Shut up, bitch!” yelled Devon . “If you do it, these guys will know you’re a fag. You’ll know it too!” Devon grabbed me by the hair and ripped me up off the bench. The pain was excruciating. He slugged me in the face again, then again. The pain was unbearable, but better than what almost happened. Devon punched me in the gut, then nailed me in the nuts. Jeremy and Alex held me as he went crazy slugging me. “Beg me to stop, fag, and maybe I will. Beg me!” I looked into his eyes, my own filled with scorn. I’d never beg him, no matter what he did to me. I’d never give him the satisfaction. My eyes were filled with hate and defiance. I knew he’d make me pay for it, but I didn’t care. I was as good as dead already. I’d never bow down to him. He could beat me, beat me to death, but I’d never humiliate myself in front of him.
“Never,” I croaked. I gathered up all my courage and spat at him. He went berserk. Devon didn’t just want to hurt me, he wanted to break me. His fists smashed into my face, my stomach, my chest, and my groin. He hit me again and again in his fury. I struggled to get away. I’d have done anything to get away, but my body wouldn’t function. Even if my hands weren’t tied behind my back, I wouldn’t have stood a chance. My strength drained away. The searing pain made it impossible to even stand. Devon grabbed me by the chin and spit into my face. “I should just kill you, faggot! Then there’d be one less of you!” I didn’t say anything. It wasn’t just defiance anymore. I couldn’t speak; I couldn’t make my mouth function. I couldn’t think. My vision was blurred, my mind clouded by pain. I really thought Devon was going to kill me. Dying suddenly didn’t seem like such a bad thing. At least that way, I could escape from the pain. The only reason I wanted to live was so that Devon wouldn’t have the pleasure of watching me die. Devon took out a marker and scrawled something on my face as his friends held my head still. He stepped back to admire his handiwork when he was done, and laughed. His buddies pushed me to a mirror and made me look. There, in big bold letters, Devon had written ‘FAG’ on my cheek, in bright red ink. “No way you’re goin’ to the state finals with us, asshole,” he whispered in my ear. Suddenly, Devon
grabbed my hair and pulled it painfully back. He slugged me once again in the face and his buddies let me fall to the floor. They stood around me, kicking me savagely. “This is for lookin’ at me in the showers!” said one as his foot slammed into my ribs. “This is for being a cocksucker,” said another as he kicked the side of my head. “You should have the decency to kill yourself,” said Devon , as his foot slammed repeatedly into my chest. “You’re—a—worthless—no—good—fucking... FAGGOT—and—you—should—be—DEAD!” Devon kicked me with each word he spoke. The others were kicking me, too. The pain was unbearable; my vision burst into a bright explosion of red with every kick, and I was sure that bones were breaking. The sounds of their attack echoed through the empty locker room, but there was nobody else there to hear it. I was completely alone. I’d never experienced such pain in all my life. When they stopped, I lay face down on the floor, my body broken, too weak to move. Devon pulled my head up by the hair and put his mouth right next to my ear. “You tell anyone about this and I’ll kill you, faggot,” he whispered. “I promise you, I will. I’ll kill you and your faggot boyfriend.” With a sudden cry, he smashed my face into the concrete floor. I went out cold and remembered nothing more.
*** I awoke in the emergency room, with no idea how much time had passed, or how I got there. I was in a daze. My head hurt, my face hurt, my nuts hurt. Hell, everything hurt. Blurry faces swirled in and out— doctors, nurses, my mother’s, Taylor’s, Brandon’s, Jon’s, and others. I wasn’t sure if they were really there, or if I was only dreaming them. I wasn’t even sure I was really there at all. My head swam in pain. I couldn’t focus, couldn’t think. The only thing I was sure about was that I’d never felt so bad before. I was as if I’d been hit by a truck—a big one. My first lucid thought was the next morning—at least I think it was the next morning—when I awoke in a hospital room. I was bandaged, bruised, sore as hell, but apparently whole. Tubes ran to my arms and up my nose. I had no idea how I’d gotten there. The last twenty-four hours were all a blur. I felt a hand on my forehead; it was Taylor ’s. “ Tay ,” I croaked. The weakness of my own voice surprised me, and it was hard to breathe. Tay took my hand. There were tears in his eyes. “How do you feel?” “Like Mrs. Simpson sat on me, repeatedly.” Tay smiled at my lame joke. Mrs. Simpson was our Algebra teacher and weighed well over 300 pounds.
“Shouldn’t you be at school, Tay ?” I asked. It must’ve at least been mid-morning, judging by the light coming through the windows. “I skipped. You think I’m gonna leave you here alone when you need me? I didn’t find out about what happened to you until this morning when I got to school. Everyone’s talking about it.” “Gee, everyone talking about me—what a novelty,” I moaned. I’d been the talk of the school so often it would’ve felt strange if I wasn’t. “How did they find out anyway?” ”I don’t know, but you know how stuff like this gets around.” “No shit!” I coughed. Taylor spent the next hour trying to cheer me up. Our roles were reversed. For days, I’d been trying to break Tay out of his depression, and now he was trying to make me feel better. My pain was mainly physical, however, and would heal sooner or later. Taylor ’s was much deeper and was going to be a lot harder to overcome. Who knew that better than me? I was almost glad to be stuck in that hospital bed. At least it meant I didn’t have to return to school. The days before I was outed seemed almost a dream. I was a star soccer player and had the admiration of my peers. I could walk down the halls without anyone bothering me. Girls thought I was cute and pursued me. Even though I wasn’t interested in them, it sure made me feel good that they wanted me. Hell, even my
“girlfriend’s” mother was after me! I know everything was far from perfect then, but looking back it seemed like a golden age. At least then my life didn’t totally suck. But back then I didn’t have Tay and his love, either. And that really would have sucked. “Who did this to you, Mark?” he asked. Tay had a grim expression on his face. “Huh? Oh...” My thoughts were drifting and it took me a moment to focus on Taylor ’s question. I think they had me on some kind of painkillers or something. “ Devon ,” I said with a croak, “with Alex and Jeremy. Rob was there too, but he mainly just watched, until they all kicked the shit out of me at the end.” I told Tay all I could remember about what happened. My mind was a bit foggy, but I’d never forget what they’d done to me. When I was finished, Tay was trembling with fury, tears rolled down his cheeks. “I’ll kill every one of those fucking bastards! I will!” Taylor hissed. Tay scared the shit out of me. He meant it—he really did. He actually started walking out the door. I knew that I had to stop him or else he’d really kill them, or get killed himself. “ Tay !” I called. “Please, come back!” My voice cracked. Taylor spun on his heel and ran back to the side of my bed. “Please, don’t.” I pleaded with him.
“I’m gonna kill those fuckers!” He seethed with fury. It was frightening to see him transformed like that. His sensitive, angelic face was contorted by hate and rage. He had become an angel of death. Such fury on the face of one so kind, sensitive, and loving was terrifying. “ Taylor , look at me!” I ordered. He stared into my eyes. What I read there filled me with dread. I reached out and grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I don’t want you going near them. Promise me you won’t.” He didn’t speak, just slowly shook his head “no.” The hate and bitterness in his eyes was terrifying. “ Taylor , if you love me, promise me,” I begged. “Promise me!” I was crying. I’d never been so scared in all my life. I was deathly afraid Taylor was going to go out and get himself killed. If not that, he’d kill those boys and spend the rest of his life in prison. My flesh crawled with thoughts of what would happen to him there. I couldn’t bear it. “Promise me!” I pleaded. “Please, please, promise me!” The desperation and despair in my voice was clear. I reached up and grabbed his forearm. Taylor looked at me, tears flooding his eyes. At last he relented.
“Alright. I promise.” I bawled even harder with relief. “And promise me that you won’t tell Brandon or the other guys, Taylor,” I added. “I don’t want our friends to get themselves into bad trouble for bashing Devon .” “But they shouldn’t be able to get away with what they did. Someone should pay them back for it,” said Taylor quietly. I caught my breath. “Maybe someday someone will, but I don’t want it to be you or our friends— understand?” Tay nodded. He leaned over and kissed my forehead. “I promise. For you,” he said. *** Taylor came back and visited me every single day. As soon as school was out at 3:30 , he was by my side and didn’t leave until the nurses forced him out. It was such a comfort to feel so loved. I sure as hell wasn’t getting love from anywhere else. In the evening of the second day, my mother stopped in to check on me. Tay was just heading out to get something to eat. My mom looked at him with disapproval, but Taylor just ignored her. Once my mom thought Tay was the most wonderful boy in the world, but as soon as she discovered we were lovers, she did a complete turnaround. I waited for her to say something
about him, but she didn’t. It was just as well. It would only have caused an argument. I was damn well going to have him in my room. My mother looked at me with sorrow and disappointment. “Mark, how can you put yourself through all this? Isn’t it time to give it up? You could find a nice girl. You could...” “Mother, for God’s sake!” She still didn’t understand. She seemed to think that being gay was a choice, like I could switch my sexual orientation as easily as changing channels on the television. Hell, she acted like my getting beaten nearly to death was my fault! “This is what I am! This is who I am! Nothing is gonna change. Can’t you understand that?” I looked into her eyes. It was clear that she really couldn’t understand. Despite everything, I felt sorry for her. She just couldn’t grasp the fact that I was gay. She’d never accept it or even comprehend it. At least she cared enough to come and check on me. My dad never visited me, not once—I guess it showed that he didn’t love me, had probably never loved me; he had only loved his idea of who I was. And I’m sure he thought I got what I deserved. Hell, he would’ve probably helped Devon and his Nazis beat me up. My mom just looked at me with sorrow, shaking her head. She didn’t stay long, and she didn’t come back. I wasn’t alone, however. Tay was there every second he was away from school. Brandon and Jon came to see
me, as did Ethan and Nathan. Some of the other guys came to see me, too. Jennifer was there almost every afternoon. I didn’t have many friends, but those I had were good ones.
Taylor Devon glared at me. He was always looking at me, turning up in the most unexpected places just to frighten me. I felt other emotions besides fear when I looked at Devon now, knowing what he’d done to Mark. I glared back at him. I wanted nothing more than to beat him senseless. He’d hurt the one I loved, nearly killed him. I hated him; I think I wanted him dead. Despite the fact that Devon was a lot stronger and tougher than me, I would’ve torn him limb from limb if Mark hadn’t made me promise I wouldn’t. I’d thought of myself as a coward at times in the past, but Devon was the true coward. My cowardice was merely fear, but Devon ’s was something totally evil. He didn’t have the guts to take on Mark by himself. He had to get three of his buddies to help him. Mark didn’t have a chance. I guess that’s how Devon liked it. He wanted to make sure that Mark didn’t have the opportunity to fight back. The mere sight of Devon sickened me. It didn’t seem like his kind should even be allowed to exist. Devon didn’t dare to glare at me for long. Brandon was with me. Ever since Mark was hospitalized, Brandon or Jon was always with me, sticking to me as closely as my shadow. At the end of each class, there was one or the other of them waiting for me in the hallway. Brandon drove me to school everyday. He
took me to the hospital to see Mark every afternoon when school let out. If I wasn’t in class or at home, one of those two guys was always there, acting as my bodyguard. “What’s wrong?” asked Brandon , as we made our way out of school. “I feel guilty because you’re spending all your time protecting me,” I said. “C’mon, I like spending time with you,” he protested. “Besides, I promised Mark I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. He’d kick my ass if I did. And I don’t want anything to happen to you, either.” I sighed. “Well, even though I feel guilty about it, I sure appreciate you looking out for me. To be honest, I’m scared. I didn’t know what I was gonna do without Mark around to protect me. I’m not very strong, and I don’t think I’d be very good in a fight.” “Bullshit!” he said, laughing. “You’re strong, Taylor.” “Not like you, and not like Mark.” “Okay, maybe we’re stronger, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t strong in your own way. You fought that jerk Jeremy off, didn’t you?” I brightened for a moment at the memory. “Yeah, but I just punched him once. He could’ve kicked my ass if he really wanted to.”
“Maybe and maybe not,” he said evenly. “The point is, you defended yourself. No one was around to help you then, and you took care of things all by yourself.” “I still feel kinda...” I said, shaking my head. "I mean, it’s like I’m not fighting my own battles.” Brandon stopped for a moment. “Listen, Tay ,” he said. “This is a battle you can’t fight alone. These guys play dirty. They’d gang up on you if they got the chance, just like they did to Mark. I’m just here to even the odds.” He paused, and then looked me in the eye. “Mark told me you wanted to go after the guys that beat him and kick their asses. Maybe even worse.” I felt my jaw muscles tighten instinctively. “Yeah, I’d still like to,” I said. “But I promised Mark I wouldn’t. He was wise to stop me. I probably would’ve gotten my head kicked in or something.” “Well, it’s not wise to mess with guys like that. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me who did it?” I looked at Brandon for a moment, then shook my head. “I’d like to,” I said, “but I can’t. I gave Mark my word.” He sighed. “I wish you hadn’t made that promise. I’m not sure why he won’t tell me.” I grinned. “Because he knows you’d go after them,” I said. “Damn right—so fast it’d make your head spin.” “I think that’s why Mark won’t tell you. He doesn’t want you getting hurt, or in trouble.”
“I bet Devon was one of them, wasn’t he?” asked Brandon . “I’m not sayin’… but I wish I could.” Brandon looked like he wanted to try and persuade me to talk, but I think he knew I’d keep my promise to Mark, no matter what. It was a hard promise to keep. I wanted to tell Brandon so he could take care of Devon and his cronies for good. He already suspected it was him anyway, and I bet Brandon would beat Devon senseless at the least provocation. Maybe Devon would get what he deserved eventually; even if I couldn’t tell Brandon it was him. Tears began to sting my eyes—not so much from sadness, but from anger. God, I couldn’t believe everything that had happened. It was more than I could take. Mark getting beaten was the last straw. It just made me feel like I couldn’t count on anything anymore. I felt like almost everyone was against us. I felt insecure, lonely, and afraid. “ Brandon , listen,” I said, fighting back my tears. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me and Mark. If it weren’t for you...” Suddenly, the dam burst, and I started crying. The events of the past few days were weighing down on me heavily. I didn’t think things could get much worse, but every time I thought about what they’d done to Mark, just the sight of his face beaten and bruised, it just tore me up inside. Brandon put his hand on my shoulder.
“Hey, Taylor ,” he said gently, “it’s gonna be okay. Mark’s strong. He’s not in any danger. He’s gonna get better and be out of that bed in no time. Then you guys can, y’know, be together.” I wiped the tears from my face. Kids from school were looking at me and snickering, but I didn’t pay any attention. What was crying in front of them when they already hated me for being gay? *** Brandon offered to take me out for pizza as he was driving me home from the hospital, but I wasn’t in the mood for it. I wasn’t in the mood for anything. Mark looked terrible. There were black and purple bruises all over his body. His ribs were bound tight in bandages, and I could tell that just the slightest movement caused him pain. Mark didn’t complain, of course, but I knew he was suffering. I couldn’t get over the way he looked either. His handsome face and muscular body were marred by what Devon and the others had done to him. I couldn’t stand that they’d done that to him. Brandon couldn’t either. I caught him clenching and unclenching his fists when he looked at Mark. Several times, he tried to get Mark to tell who’d done it to him, but Mark wouldn’t breathe a word. I’d always thought that I’d love Mark no matter what he looked like, even if he was in some horrible, disfiguring accident. I was right. He looked terrible at
the moment, but I loved him as much as ever. If anything, I think I loved him more. I cared for him so much that his pain became my own. I couldn’t handle thinking about Devon and the others beating him. Every time I did, I wanted to kill Devon for what he’d done, but I knew I didn’t stand a chance against him in a fight. I guess that didn’t matter. I’d promised Mark that I wouldn’t go after him and I’d keep my word, no matter what. Later that night, I sat in my room, gazing out the window into the night sky, yearning desperately to be with Mark. If they had let me, I’d have slept right in his hospital room. I’d have lived there with him and left only to go to school. If I could have, I’ve had quit school and stayed with Mark always. Nothing mattered to me, but him.
Scene 2
The Graymoor Mansion
Mark I walked down the familiar halls of school, my first day out of the hospital. My face was badly bruised, I limped, and my lower lip and left eyebrow had six stitches apiece. It hadn’t been that long since I’d gotten my stitches taken out from my fight with Steve, and there I was with more of them. I was still sore, but I could get around pretty well. Nothing had really been broken like I’d thought at first, although I had a few cracked ribs and had to wear damned bandages around my lower chest. I’m sure Devon and his buddies were sorry I didn’t have any broken bones. I’m not sure how they managed to keep from breaking any. They’d sure the hell tried. I drew a lot of stares in the halls, but what the hell was new about that? Instead of gossiping about the fag, now all my classmates whispered about the fag that got his ass kicked. I felt no shame in that. How was I supposed to fight off four guys? Any one of them I could’ve handled by myself with no problem. Hell, I might’ve even done okay with two, but not four! I never had a chance. Those bastards taunted me about being weak... called me ‘prissy.’ Oh, yeah? Then what were they, when they needed to gang up on me like that? Life at school was still an ordeal. Brandon, Jon and a few others tried to help out both Taylor and myself, but
I still felt distinctly unwelcome and unwanted. I can’t begin to describe how much it hurts to walk down the halls, knowing that most of your classmates look down upon you and think of you as some kind of perversion. I even caught a few looks of pity here and there. I hated that! They thought so little of me that they actually felt sorry for me, like I had some disease or something. It was beyond belief. Taylor ’s disposition hadn’t improved. He’d pulled himself out of his depression to be there for me in the hospital, but he had returned to his downcast mood once I was back in school. If anything, he was down more than ever. I know that the beating I took had a demoralizing effect on him—yet another part of his world becoming unstable and insecure. Tay knew I’d always be there for him, but what had happened brought the point home that someday I might not be there. Those guys came pretty close to killing me. The thought of losing me like that seemed to drive Taylor closer to the edge. There wasn’t much I could do about that. I couldn’t promise him I’d never die, or I wouldn’t get beaten up. More than likely, I would get beat up again. I was sure that Devon and his buds were just itching to finish the job. I couldn’t avoid stuff like that. It had become a part of my life. I was more worried about Tay than ever. He was slipping into darkness, and I couldn’t snap him out of it, no matter how hard I tried. We were both off the soccer team and that didn’t help. I was in no condition to play and had no intention of ever going back with the
guys who had worked me over. Tay quit the team the moment after he found out what Devon and his buddies had done to me. I think he couldn’t stand to look at them. He’d made me a promise not to go after them and he’d kept it, but I think he feared that seeing them every day would be too great a temptation for him. Sure, we both saw them in the halls at school, but it wasn’t the same. He knew that if he was with them in the locker room, something would happen. He wouldn’t be able to keep himself from laying into them—either that, or they’d try to kill him. Devon and his crew still glared at me, but I glared right back. I wasn’t about to let those sons of bitches think they’d cowed me by working me over. Maybe they thought I was scared of them and their threat to kill Taylor and me because I hadn’t told anyone who had beaten me. That wasn’t the reason I kept quiet, however. There just wasn’t any point in telling. The school would just look it over and probably feel the same as my dad—that I deserved what I got. Mr. Montgomery sure as hell didn’t do anything to Randy when we got into it. I was the only one who got punished. I knew he’d just tell me it was all my fault, and then not do a damned thing to Devon or his buddies. After all, I was just a fag, right? To them, that meant I didn’t have any rights. The truth is, I just didn’t want to deal with it. I had more than enough unpleasantness in my life without adding more. In the back of my mind I guess I was a little afraid of Devon ’s threat—not where it concerned
me, but about Taylor . What if Devon and his buddies went after my boyfriend? I couldn’t bear to think of them hurting Tay like that. I wouldn’t let them. I watched over Taylor like a hawk. If they wanted to hurt him, they’d have to kill me first. Almost every day, Brandon did his best to find out who beat me up, but I wouldn’t tell him. I knew the moment I did, he’d march right out and fuck Devon up. Him and Jon would’ve probably tracked each one of those guys down and kicked their asses. I knew that’d probably get them expelled from school, even land them in jail, and they’d likely get hurt in the process. I didn’t want my friends in trouble, or hurt. They couldn’t undo what had been done to me. Besides, it was my fight. When I was strong enough, I had every intention of going after them myself. That would have to wait, however, at least until I healed. I sure couldn’t take any of them on in the state I was in. I think Brandon had a pretty good idea that it was Devon who worked me over. He seemed to despise him more than ever after I’d been beaten up. I made Brandon promise not to go after the guys who had hurt me, even if he managed to find out for himself. It was a promise he didn’t want to make, but I begged him. In return, he made me promise to seek him out if and when I decided to take them on myself. I didn’t want to make that promise either, but I did—reluctantly. When and if that time came, I’d need his help. ***
Taylor and I met almost nightly at the old Graymoor place, just as we had before my unplanned stay in the hospital. I was growing accustomed to that creepy old mansion, almost like it was our home. It was dark, dusty, and dilapidated, like something out of an old horror movie, but at least no one bothered us there. It was the only place we could be together without eyes peering at us. It was the only place we could be alone and hold each other close. If there were ghosts there, they didn’t trouble us. That old haunted house was the only place we felt welcome. Taylor was really depressed, except when I held him. When I wrapped my arms around him it was like he could feel how much I loved him. I think he felt safe, like nothing could ever hurt him, as long as I held him in my arms. I wished I could hold him forever and protect him from the entire world. One night, I took a small tape player with me to Graymoor. I popped in a cassette I’d made of some of my favorite songs and pressed ‘play.’ Tay didn’t know what the heck I was doing, until I pulled him into the middle of the parlor and started dancing. We couldn’t dance together at the school dances, but no one could stop us in our private little world. I’d long wished we could dance together, the way other couples did... and at last we could. The tape had mostly slow songs on it, ballads from the late 1970s. I held Tay closely and gently swayed to the music. I looked into his eyes and saw them filled
with love. I smiled. Our lives were total crap most of the time, but not when we were together. Outside, the whole world might be against us, but they’d never stop us from loving each other. I loved Tay with all my heart. Nothing that had happened had changed that, nothing ever would. The physical and mental pain I’d endured in the past few days was excruciating, but it was all worth it to be in love with Taylor . Graymoor was our sanctuary. It was our world. There we talked, and hugged, and made out. We found one room that seemed to feel better, a little brighter than the others. There we made love to each other, exploding with passion, rolling around on one of the old beds until we were both exhausted and covered with sweat. I’d always been afraid of that old house, but I actually looked forward to going there each night, especially to that room. It was our place—mine and Taylor ’s—and that made it special, no matter what had happened there in the past. We spent a lot of time exploring that old mansion. It was a hazardous pastime. The old wooden floors were weak in places, and groaned in protest under our weight. There were a few rooms we couldn’t even enter for fear of falling through the rotted floor. I could tell that the house had been beautiful once, almost a palace in the 1800’s. Everything was just the same as it had been when it was abandoned, almost exactly a century before. As I looked at the once-grand furniture and elegant surroundings, I fantasized that Taylor and I would buy the old place, fix it up, and live there
together, forever. It’d be our sanctuary, our little haven from the cruel world. Some nights, we’d leave Graymoor and walk to the soccer fields, only a few blocks away. We’d lay there looking up at the stars, just like we did before everyone found out about us. We were always afraid someone would find us there, but it was worth the risk. I held Tay close as we looked into the heavens. It made me feel a little safer knowing that the stars would always be there. No matter what went on down on earth, the stars remained pure and untouched, their light shining as brightly as the love between us. They were something special that no one could ever take away from us.
Taylor I lived for the night. Mark had told me he’d always felt like a vampire, hiding his terrible secret from the world. I felt like one, too. I could only be myself at night, when I was alone with Mark. He, alone in all the world, really understood. My heart grew lighter each evening as the shadows deepened, for that meant I would soon be alone with Mark. My parents were always in bed by nine or ten, and I could usually lock my door and sneak out not long after they were asleep. Mark and I made love at least once every night, usually in the old mansion that had become our home, but sometimes right on the soccer field. I’m sure Devon would’ve keeled over dead if he knew what we did on that field, but that was fine by me. Mark and I made love under the stars, in the sight of God, and I knew he approved, because Mark and I loved each other with all our hearts. There was a bond between us that would never break. When we finished making love, we’d look up at the stars, staring through space and time. We wondered if there wasn’t a world out there where boys like us could live in peace, without fear. If only everyone could’ve just left us alone. We hurt no one, but they hated us as if we were guilty of the greatest atrocities against mankind.
Most nights, we stayed in Graymoor. It was safe and comfortable. When the nights were chilly, as they were more and more, we stayed warm inside. When the rain poured down, we were dry. That old haunted house sheltered us from the elements, as it protected us from the cruel world. There we could live, and love. It was too bad we couldn’t stay there always. Most of my hours were spent in the light of day. I felt like a vampire then, too, for in the daylight I writhed in pain. It wasn’t the pain of a supernatural creature caught in the burning sunlight, but the pain of a gay boy persecuted by his peers. They tormented Mark and me unmercifully. I hoped they would tire of it, but there seemed no end to their cruelty. I tried to be strong and ignore the never-ending taunts and insults, but I was too weak inside. Even Mark was weakening under the strain. He was far stronger than I, and they were beating him down, too. Seeing that, I knew there was no hope.
Scene 3
A Short Rest
Mark Our nights alone weren’t enough. Taylor was in higher spirits when he was with me, but we couldn’t be together all the time. If only we could! I wracked my brain to find some way to snap Tay out of his depression. The only thing I could come up with was getting him away from everything—all the stares, taunts, and insults people spoke under their breath. Fall break was just a few days away and it’d be the perfect opportunity for us to get away. That was it! Tay and I would take a vacation from the cruel world. For all the trouble it took, you’d have thought I was organizing an expedition to the moon. I was still more or less under house arrest. The only way I could get away was to talk my Aunt Anne into covering for me. I’d always been her favorite, and she was the one person I could count on. She was the only relative that didn’t freak over my being gay. Mom and Dad tried to keep my sexual orientation hidden from the family, but word got out, of course. Aunt Anne called me when she heard the news, and we had a long talk. She actually said she was happy for me and proud of me. Aunt Anne was the only member of my family that knew I still had a relationship with Tay . It made me happy to know that she approved of it. My aunt was always cool. What’s more, I knew she didn’t approve of the way my parents were treating me.
She’d visited once since I was outed, and I could tell she didn’t like how things were, not one bit. I was nervous when I called her and explained my plans. I told her about what was going on with Tay and how worried I was about him. Thankfully, she agreed to go along with it all. Good old Aunt Anne! I went downstairs to the kitchen and just a few minutes later, Aunt Anne called. My parents had a speakerphone and I could hear everything. Aunt Anne asked if I could stay with her during fall break. She told my folks that she thought I might want to get out of the city and that she could use a little help installing her new kitchen range and painting the barn. The last part was a nice touch. Aunt Anne lived alone, and my parents weren’t likely to deny her my visit if they thought she needed help. I was right—I had my vacation. The next step was to free up Tay . I called him and explained everything. Then I called Brandon for phase two of the plan. He spoke to Tay ’s mom, and the deal was cinched. Taylor would be “‘spending a few days with Brandon .’” In reality, he would be at Aunt Anne’s with me, and Brandon would cover for him. The plan seemed foolproof, but I began to worry. When did my life become so complicated? We had Wednesday after school through Sunday for fall break. Unfortunately, Taylor could only stay from Wednesday night until Saturday, but I wasn’t about to complain about that. Three whole days with Taylor was more than I’d ever had.
Mom drove me out to Aunt Anne’s on Wednesday, just after school. I suggested that I drive myself, as it was a five-hour drive, one way. My parents wouldn’t hear of it, however. I was still denied the use of a car. My parents were terrified that I’d try to see Taylor . Little did they know that I was going to be spending three whole days with him! When we arrived, Mom started chatting with Aunt Anne and showed no sign of leaving anytime soon. The longer they talked, the more nervous I became. I glanced over at the kitchen clock. Brandon and Taylor were supposed to show up around nine-thirty, and the minutes were ticking away. What was I going to do if Mom was still there when they arrived? My three days with Taylor would be over before they started. I’d get Aunt Anne in trouble, too. As I learned with our fake girlfriends, I wasn’t good at the whole dishonesty thing; it took too much planning. I hadn’t considered that Mom would stick around after we got there, although I should’ve known she would. At last, Mom departed for home and I heaved a sigh of relief. When she’d gone, Aunt Anne looked at me. She caressed my bruised cheek with her hand. “Just look at what they’ve done to you,” she said sadly. She seemed on the verge of tears, but was quickly back to her old self. “Can I get you anything, Mark? Aspirin?” “I’m okay. I look a lot worse than I feel,” I said, trying to smile. That wasn’t entirely true, but I didn’t want her worrying.
Brandon showed up with Tay about twenty minutes after Mom had gone. Aunt Anne invited Brandon to stay for supper and he gratefully accepted. My aunt makes the world’s finest fried chicken and mashed potatoes, and the whole world seemed to know it. My aunt really did have a new kitchen range still sitting in its packing crate. Taylor, Brandon, and I had the old range pulled out and the new one set in place in no time at all. While Aunt Anne fixed supper, the three of us carried the old range out and dumped it in the gully, the final resting place for many old appliances. We spent some time exploring the old junkyard with flashlights. It was filled with rusting hulks from long ago. By the time we returned and washed up, supper was ready. Taylor was smiling, even laughing now and then. Both Aunt Anne and Brandon knew how depressed he’d been, and why. Brandon witnessed it first-hand and I’d filled Aunt Anne in on the rest of the details over the phone. She was the one person I could talk to about stuff like that. They both seemed almost as happy as I was to see him edging out of his depression. I think seeing Tay smile made me happier than anything ever had in my life. The chicken and mashed potatoes didn’t hurt my mood, either. I couldn’t get over Aunt Anne. I knew she was pretty accepting of the relationship between Taylor and myself, but she actually spoke openly about it like no one in the world would’ve thought anything of it. “Aren’t they cute together?” she asked Brandon .
Tay turned bright red, and I have the feeling I did, too. I could feel my face getting all flushed, totally embarrassed that my aunt would say that out loud. Brandon wasn’t fazed a bit, however. “Yeah,” he laughed. “Maybe I should go out and get myself a boyfriend. They do look pretty good together. Of course, Taylor looks especially nice.” “Hands off!” I said, grinning. “ Taylor ’s spoken for—right, Tay ?” “Well, lemme think about this...” said Tay , pretending to look Brandon over. Everyone laughed at that. It was wonderful to see Taylor kidding around, and it was so cool to be in a place where being gay was okay. “Ha—like Brandon could ever give up girls!” I said. Brandon was a major babe hound. He was born thinking about girls. “Well, I am kinda seeing someone. I’m going with Jennifer now.” “Jennifer!” I said pointedly. Now that was interesting, especially after what had happened between me and her during the hayride. No wonder Brandon was so happy. Jennifer was the kind of girl every guy wanted—attractive, sexy, fun to be around... and willing. I was sure those two had been screwing each other’s brains out. No wonder Brandon looked so relaxed. He was totally girl-crazy, and Jennifer was boy-crazy. They were a perfect match. I looked at
Brandon knowingly and he grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. He knew exactly what I was thinking. We continued talking long after the mashed potatoes had disappeared and the last chicken leg was gone. This was what life was supposed to be like. It was a little after eleven before we pushed our chairs away from the table. “ Brandon , dear, are you sure you won’t spend the night?” asked Aunt Anne. She’d asked him before, but he wanted to get back. “Well...” he began. “It’ll be four a.m. or later when you get home. You shouldn’t be driving late at night like that. I’d hate to see you get hurt.” He thought for a moment. “I guess I could stay, then leave first thing in the morning. But I’d better phone home and tell my parents that I’m going to spend the night.” “Good,” said Aunt Anne. “It’s settled. I’ll rest easier knowing you aren’t out on the road getting yourself killed.” Taylor, Brandon, and I washed up the dishes. Aunt Anne protested that we were guests, but I know she appreciated it. When we were done, she was sitting in the living room. “Let me show you boys up to your rooms.” We grabbed our things and followed Aunt Anne upstairs. She slept on the ground floor, but she took us
to the big, second-floor bedroom at the far end of the house. It was huge and had a big double bed right in the middle. “Mark, you and Taylor can use this room. You boys settle in. I’ll show Brandon to his room down the hall. Then I’m going to read a little and go to bed. Don’t worry about making too much noise. I won’t be able to hear a thing downstairs. You can do whatever you want in this house.” Wow, I thought—she really was open-minded! Brandon winked at me while I was hugging her. I smiled. “Thanks, Aunt Anne,” I said, giving her a big hug. She had to be the greatest aunt in the world. Taylor gave her a hug too. She kissed him on the cheek and mussed his blond hair. “I can see why Mark feels the way he does about you,” she told him. If anyone else had said something like that, I’d have been shocked, but Aunt Anne was a very special person. Her words sure made me feel good. I loved Tay and it made me happy to see someone else appreciate him. “Good night, boys,” she said, stepping out into the hall. “Good night, Aunt Anne.” “Night, guys.” “Night, Brandon .”
She closed the door behind her, escorting Brandon to his own room. I had a warm glow inside. Tay and I had three entire days together! Brandon would come back for Taylor on Saturday night, and then Mom would pick me up late Sunday evening. Three whole days together seemed like an eternity. All our troubles would be waiting for us when we returned, but for a few hours at least, we could be happy together. I gazed at Taylor . Every time I looked at him, it was just like the very first time I set eyes upon him. He was beautiful, an angel sent from Heaven just for me... an angel touched by sadness, and pain, but still an angel. Tay was more calm and content than he had been in a long time, and yet, all was not well. His eyes were troubled, his shoulders slightly slumped, and I could read the tension in his body. No one could go through what Tay and I had experienced and remain unchanged. Taylor looked tired and I knew it was a weariness of the soul, rather than of the body. I understood too well what he was feeling. No one could understand it more than me. Tay and I were virtually one. From the very beginning of the whole mess, I was determined to tough it out, make it through—but I wasn’t so sure anymore. All the hateful stares, verbal abuse, and finally physical abuse were wearing me down. I felt like I was being crushed by a great weight, every moment of every day. I was confident and strong by nature. Even though I’d never
cared much about what others thought of me, I was being slowly beaten down. Devon ’s smirking face appeared in my mind. It aroused my anger and renewed my determination. I was just tired, that’s all. I just needed a break. I could make it. Hell, I'd made it this far. How could things get any worse? It’d only be a couple of years before Tay and I finished high school, then we’d go away together, somewhere where no one would bother us. I was determined to go on. I wouldn’t let them win. I wouldn’t give Devon and his Nazis the satisfaction. I’d tough it out; I just wasn’t sure how. The whole ordeal was far worse on Taylor than it was on me. Where I was a jock, he was a jock with the soul of a poet. He had a soft heart and cared deeply for others. He keenly felt the pain of the world as few others could. I knew that each disapproving glance, each unkind word, stabbed him like a knife. Tay was so much more sensitive than me, making him much more easily hurt, and so everything that had happened hit him much harder. Why did the world have to be so cruel and unjust to one so kind and loving? Tay was the kind of boy who would’ve been there for anyone in need of a friend. And yet those he would’ve helped turned on him—all because he dared to love another boy. Tay was in higher spirits than he had been in many days, but he was far from being the bright-eyed, happy boy I’d met not so very long ago. I was determined to make him that boy again. No matter what it took, I’d find a way to make him happy. I knew our troubles
were far from over, but our weekend together would be a calm, peaceful island in a stormy sea. If we could travel from island to island, maybe we could handle the rough voyage in-between. I took Tay in my arms and held him like I’d hold a frightened puppy. He hugged me tight, seeking out the comfort and security of my embrace. He nuzzled against my cheek and his lips sought out mine. His kiss was sweet, tender, and loving. All those that put us down, disapproved, or hated us didn’t know what they were missing. I almost felt sorry for them, because they’d never have what we had. If only they could’ve stood where we were standing they would’ve understood that loving someone was a very special thing. What did it matter if the one loved was male or female? So long as there was someone to love and to love in return, it didn’t matter at all. I loved Tay with all my heart, and he loved me. There could be nothing more precious in all the world. A few minutes later our clothes lie in a pile on the floor and Tay and I were wrapped in each other’s arms on the bed. His body was so strong, so firm, and yet soft and yielding. I pulled him to me, seeking out his warmth and the physical contact that made me feel as if we were one. Neither Tay nor I had ever been with another. I had long and desperately craved sex with another guy, but I was glad the chance hadn’t come until I met Taylor . With Tay , I had far more than mere sex; I had love. Everything we did with each other was
an act of love, a physical manifestation of what we felt for each other. That night, Taylor and I made slow, passionate love for hours on end. We held nothing back and gave in to all our desires. With Taylor , each time was like the first. Neither the pleasure, nor the love, diminished. It was as if each moment was a new and wonderful sensation that we experienced together. It was almost beyond comprehension that two souls could give each other that much pleasure. Whatever might come later, we’d have this brief time together—one, beautiful, unforgettable night—and perhaps more.
Taylor I’d never been to a place as wonderful as that of Mark’s aunt. She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek as if I were her own son. I found myself desperately wishing that she were my mother. She didn’t disapprove of me because of what I was. When Mark hugged me, or held my hand, she didn’t glare or say anything unkind. She smiled. Aunt Anne kind of seemed like she was my aunt, too, so I took to calling her that from the very beginning. I’m sure I could’ve called her ‘Anne,’ but it didn’t seem quite right. ‘Aunt Anne’ fit her better. It was obvious that Mark loved her dearly—I could just tell. Brandon seemed to like her a lot, too. She had a way of making everyone feel comfortable, as if her home was theirs. The farmhouse wasn’t fancy, but it was comfortably furnished. There weren’t any expensive designer chairs that no one was supposed to actually sit on, or handtowels and little soaps that were never used. Everything was there to make the occupants of the house comfortable. I didn’t feel like I had to worry about breaking something. I was totally at ease. I felt so accepted and loved that I nearly cried. It was a feeling I hadn’t had in a long time, maybe not since Ohio . As we were eating, I actually began to feel happy. At last, no one was staring at me, no one was
taunting me. I knew I didn’t have to worry about anyone hurting me, or Mark. We were totally safe here. Most of Mark’s bruises were hidden by his clothes, but he still had a black eye and stitches on his face. I saw a touch of sorrow in Aunt Anne’s face now and then when she looked at Mark. She already knew what had happened. I wished his own parents would’ve been as caring as his aunt. Even though we’d only just arrived, I found myself wishing we could stay forever. I knew we could be happy there and no one would hurt us. Supper was wonderful. I ate so much I thought I might explode. It wasn’t just the food that was good, it was the company. For the first time in a long time, I felt at home. How odd that I’d get that feeling so far away from what was supposed to be my home. I wish I could say that I was completely happy, but too much had happened, and I knew the grief would start right up again, the moment we got back. Even the pleasant surroundings of the farm were a reminder of how bad things were back in Verona . The cruelty of those that surrounded us in Verona was stealing happiness away from us even when we were far, far away. I tried not to think about that, but no matter how hard I tried, there was always that dark cloud on the horizon. Later that night, Mark and I made love, and it was more wonderful than ever before. As always, I felt safe and loved in his arms. We made love for hours. For that
space of time, I was able to forget my troubles. Mark made all my pain go away. Nothing mattered but him. When we were finally done, Mark quickly fell asleep, completely exhausted. I smiled because I knew why. I lay there, holding him in my arms, gently tracing the bruises on his chest with my fingertips. I was glad we were away from Verona , and that I didn’t have to worry about Mark getting beat up again. I loved Mark so much, so unconditionally, I worried more about something bad happened to him than I did about myself. I lay there thinking of a time long ago, a time before I knew I was different. I wasn’t quite sure when I realized I was attracted to boys instead of girls, but I think I knew it by the time I was ten, back in Ohio. Before that, I’d been totally innocent, and the world seemed a wonderful place. Even when I discovered that I didn’t share my friends’ interest in girls, I was still happy. As long as they didn’t know my secret, there was nothing to fear. When you’re ten, and know inside you’re gay, it’s not difficult to hide. It’s just of matter of not staring, and not saying certain things. I never made a conscious effort to hide that part of myself. I just became so accustomed to suppressing it that it came naturally, like a superhero hiding his secret identity. Over the last few weeks, Mark and I had long discussions about such things, and his experience had been different from mine. He’d always worn the mask of a straight boy, since he’d always felt like someone with something to
hide. He put up an act for those around him. I’d never felt that was necessary, until I’d come to Verona and met Mark. Maybe it wasn’t necessary for me because Mark and I were so different in some ways. I was shy by nature, and quiet. The fact that I didn’t date was attributed to my shyness. My friends just assumed that I was too timid to ask a girl out. When girls asked me out, I usually accepted. I mean, I liked girls. I had fun with them, even though I’d never been attracted to them— not before Stephanie at least—but I didn’t mind dancing with them or eating out with them, or whatever. I’d even kissed a few, but things had never gone farther than that, except with Steph. I guess I would’ve had problems if things had ever gone beyond the kissing stage, but it just never happened. I don’t know why, but I guess that line was never crossed because of my lack of interest. I didn’t push for it, so it didn’t occur. None of the girls I’d gone out with was really a girlfriend, so things never got that intense. Now that I look back, I think the girls liked going out with me because I didn’t paw them, like most of the other guys they knew. I thought about Mark. If we hadn’t started dating, things would’ve been a lot different. If we hadn’t fallen in love, then neither of us would be in such a mess. If only I could’ve kept my secret safe until I finished high school! I could’ve walked the halls unmolested. I could’ve played soccer, gone out with friends, and had fun... Everything would’ve been different.
But would I really have been happy? The more I thought about it, the more I realized that if I had it all to do over, I wouldn’t change a thing. I wanted Mark. I needed him. He was just what I’d been missing in my life. It wasn’t he that was the source of my troubles, but those around us who couldn’t understand. As horrible as my life had become, it was worth it, just for being with Mark. If I could erase all my pain by leaving him, I wouldn’t even consider it. He was my world, my sole reason for living. We were meant to be together. I loved him with all my heart, and it would always be so.
Scene 4
A Place Where Evil Cannot Come
Mark I awoke late the next morning with Tay at my side. I couldn’t think of a better way to awaken. Taylor ’s young, naked body looked so beautiful in the morning sunlight. His hair caught the light and shone like gold. He was a living work of art; his beautiful face, lithe features, and tight, muscular body could have inspired masterpieces by Michelangelo and DaVinci. The sight of him filled me with love and desire. I grinned evilly to myself, then leaned over and awakened Tay in a way he’d never been awakened before. His moans of pleasure told me when he’d left sleep behind. That was an alarm clock he’d never forget. An hour later, we showered and dressed. We walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Aunt Anne was just setting out plates stacked high with French toast. Her timing was impeccable. She always seemed to know just when to do everything. “Is Brandon still here?” I asked. “No, he left a couple of hours ago,” she said cheerfully. “We had a nice little breakfast, then I sent him off with a bag of chocolate chip cookies.” I was sorry I’d missed him, especially since I hadn’t had the chance to thank him for driving Tay down to the farm. He’d be back soon enough, though, and I’d do it then.
“How’d you boys sleep last night?” she asked, pulling up a chair beside me. “Better than ever,” said Taylor , grinning knowingly at me. It was clear that his smile was about more than just sleep. It was so good to see him smile again. We gorged ourselves on French toast, soaking in maple syrup with powdered sugar sprinkled on top. We ate and talked with Aunt Anne. She made us feel so much at home. I found myself wishing that she were my mother. Things would’ve been very different then— perhaps too different. Who knew? If Aunt Anne had been my mother, I probably never would’ve met Tay . My life might’ve been totally empty. But there was no need to think about it. Life was filled with one ‘if only’ after another. I knew that I had to deal with the hand life had dealt me—not get lost in what could have been. “Anything we can help you with today, Aunt Anne?” I asked. “No, no. It’s a beautiful day and I want you boys to have fun. God knows you deserve it.” Her warmth and kindness touched my heart. She was a truly kind soul. “Doesn’t your barn need painted?” I asked mischievously. “As a matter of fact, it does,” she laughed. “My hired man and his helpers are coming this afternoon to work on it.”
Mom really would think I’d been working hard. I just knew Aunt Anne would tell her I painted the whole barn by myself. “You amaze me,” I said. She just smiled. “Mark, why don’t you and Taylor take Flair and Fala for a ride? They could use the exercise.” “Awesome!” I said. I loved horses and riding, but I rarely got the chance to ride. “Can you ride?” I asked Tay . I was so excited; I’d already jumped out of my chair. “Of course, I can ride, doofus!” he replied, grinning. “I can do a lot more than just play soccer, y’know.” Taylor smiled for a moment, then his face darkened with the memory of not being on the soccer team any longer. After a moment, the dark cloud passed and his smile was back. There was something special about our weekend together on the farm, something that couldn’t be ruined by all the pain in our lives. We headed for the barn and saddled up Flair and Fala. They were spirited, yet gentle horses. In minutes Tay and I were riding side by side through the fields beyond the barn. It was a truly fine day for late October, a bit chilly, but bright and beautiful. Aunt Anne’s farm really was a magical place. Flair and Fala were excited to get out, and cantered happily beneath us. We let them roam wherever they chose. Our destination didn’t really matter. It was the journey itself that was important, kind of like life.
Taylor looked so beautiful riding beside me, his long blond hair flying in the wind. A smile played against his lips, making him more beautiful still. I wasn’t exactly looking my best. I was still bandaged and bruised, looking more like an accident victim than anything else. I knew that looks didn’t matter. What really counted was how we felt about each other. True, it was Taylor ’s handsome face and form that first attracted me, but it was his spirit and heart that kept me by his side. Maybe it was even his spirit that attracted me first. The night we’d met, his soul seemed to call out to me, beckon me. I’d felt drawn to him and not just by his beauty. One thing was for certain, if Taylor hadn’t been beautiful on the inside, his outward appearance wouldn’t have mattered. There were plenty of goodlooking guys out there, but very few that possessed a beautiful soul. Devon was the perfect example. He was an exceptionally attractive young man on the outside, but on the inside he was spiteful, despicable, and hateful, totally repulsive in his actions. His looks might attract, but his personality was sure to repel anybody who got close enough to truly know him. Taylor and I rode for hours, sometimes thundering across the fields at dangerous speeds, sometimes barely moving along. The horses loved it, and so did we. I guided Flair to the little lake near the southern-most boundary of Aunt Anne’s property, knowing the horses were in need of a drink. As we neared the lake, Tay and I dismounted and let Flair and Fala avail themselves of
the cool water. They drank long and waded it for a refreshing swim. We let them wander; I knew they wouldn’t abandon us. I shivered slightly as I watched the horses wade into the lake. There was a pronounced chill in the air and I didn’t even want to think about getting wet. The weather was typical for late October. In less than a week, it’d be Halloween and then it’d really get cold. I didn’t mind. One way or the other, I’d still have Tay to snuggle with. Taylor was wearing a long-sleeved blue flannel shirt. He was breathtaking. I pulled him to me and kissed him deeply. We sank down on the grassy shore and made out. I could never get enough of kissing Tay . His lips tasted so sweet. I loved it when our tongues entwined. It made me feel as if we were one. Taylor was so sweet, kind, and understanding. It made my heart ache to think about what our classmates and families were putting him through. At least I could bring him happiness here and there, even if it was for only a moment. We’d have to live for that—the good times in-between the rough times. Maybe someday, we could be together where no one would judge us harshly. The world as a whole seemed to be growing more accepting of such things. If only our friends, families, and Verona , Indiana , could do the same. We leaned back and gazed into each others’ eyes. There was no doubt we were in love. I wished that I could share what I was feeling with all the world. I
think that feeling would’ve stopped wars and ended all violence. I pulled Tay to me, kissed him, and told him how very much I loved him. Despite the growing chill in the air, it made me feel warm inside to hear him echo my words. To love is a wonderful thing; to be loved is infinitely more precious. We rode back to the barn and tended the horses. By the time we finished, the sky had darkened and evening had come. Tay and I leaned together on a fence, watching the fireflies glow in the distance. I remembered past visits here when I’d chased them as a little boy and gathered them into a jar, only to release them a few minutes later. The crickets and cicadas serenaded us with their song, and somewhere in the distance a whippoorwill began its haunting tune. A bobwhite chanted its name to us, and a gentle breeze wafted across the fields, carrying with it the clean, cool scent of clover and newmown hay. I wrapped my arm around Taylor and held him close as we watched the fireflies dance, and then shifted our gaze upwards to the stars. It seemed like paradise. “I wish we could stay here forever and ever,” said Taylor softly. “Me too... just you, me, and Aunt Anne—wouldn’t that be wonderful?” My own voice had a dreamy quality.
Taylor smiled at me, leaned over, and kissed my cheek. I held him close as we watched the darkness deepen. There was a definite chill in the air now, but Tay felt warm and snuggly as I held him from behind. The moon rose, illuminating the beautiful night. I was so happy with Taylor at my side. Simply being with him, feeling his warmth, listening to his breath... that was all I really needed. I wished I could freeze time and just stand there with him forever, experiencing an eternity with Tay . Nothing could’ve been more wonderful than that. The world seemed such a beautiful place as we stood there together. It seemed an impossibility that evil could exist in a world so wondrous. I knew well it did exist, but, for the moment, it was elsewhere. Aunt Anne’s farm seemed almost magical... a safe haven where evil could never come. It reminded me of a place I’d once read about in a book, Lothlorien, the Kingdom of the Elves, in The Lord of the Rings. Evil could not enter that place, time couldn’t touch it, and beauty never faded. It was almost as if the author, J.R.R. Tolkien, had been describing Aunt Anne’s farm. It was almost as if he were writing about Taylor , too, when he described the Elves. Tay had the beauty of the Elves and their kindness. He was so beautiful and wonderful that it seemed impossible he was human. Perhaps he was part Elven. Perhaps long, long ago there really had been Elves and he was descended from them. After several long minutes, I pulled Taylor to me and kissed him passionately. Every kiss was like the very
first, so filled with wonder and love. We each sought to draw the other closer, to become one. Before I’d met Tay , before I’d kissed him for the first time, I was unable to comprehend how intense, how meaningful a simple kiss could be. I’d thought of all sexual matters merely from the perspective of physical pleasure and desire. It’d never once occurred to me that there might be something more. The first time I kissed Tay , and again the first time we made love, I discovered that sensual pleasure was the least of the experience. All the rest, which words cannot begin to describe, was infinitely more powerful and wondrous. Anyone who hasn’t loved someone, and been loved in return, can’t even begin to understand. I felt truly lucky that I could comprehend. Making love with Tay was an experience beyond description, but simply kissing him, touching him, being near him filled me with bliss that I’d never thought possible. He’d opened my eyes to something wondrous, almost beyond imagination. I kissed him passionately. His lips were sweet and warm. Had I died at that moment, I would’ve considered mine a full life, all because of a kiss. I held Tay in my arms as our lips met again and again. I wanted nothing more that to just hold him, and be with him. Why did the world hate me so for wanting that? I couldn’t understand. At last, our lips parted, then we turned and headed for the house. Aunt Anne would be waiting. Warm light glowed from inside the farmhouse—a friendly, inviting
light. I thought to myself how wonderful it’d be if Tay and I could get a house like this someday. Who knows? Maybe we’d buy the old Graymoor place and fix it up. Anything seemed possible at that moment. *** Aunt Anne made us what she called her “breakfast supper” of biscuits and gravy, bacon, sausage, and sweet cinnamon rolls. If I stayed with Aunt Anne much longer, I’d be as fat as the cattle. We ate and talked, and ate some more. The old kitchen was so comfortable, with its ancient furnishings and kerosene lamps. Aunt Anne liked everything to be old-fashioned, and I could understand why. There was something about the glow of an oil lamp that electric light just couldn’t duplicate. Taylor looked so handsome in the golden glow, but then he always did. I must have thought how handsome he was dozens of times that day and everyday. After supper, we all went to Aunt Anne’s sitting room. It was a comfortable place with two overstuffed sofas and golden oak furniture from another age. An old pump organ stood in one corner, dark and almost ghostly. Aunt Anne kept the lights off that night, and illuminated the room only with candles and lamps, making me feel like I was far in the past. It kind of reminded me of the old Graymoor place, too. Once upon a time, that dilapidated old mansion must’ve been as warm and inviting as Aunt Anne’s sitting room.
Tay curled up beside me on the sofa as we chatted with Aunt Anne. It felt so good to be close to him, and to be able to be close to him without a disapproving glance. Tay snuggled up against me like a little puppy. Aunt Anne didn’t stare with disapproval as so many would. She didn’t frown, didn’t glare. She smiled—a warm happy smile that showed that our love for each other warmed her heart. If only the rest of the world could have understood. Aunt Anne did, but she seemed the only one. To her, love was love; the details didn’t matter. If only everyone could understand that, the world would’ve been a far better place. We talked long into the night. Taylor fell asleep with his head on my chest. I absent-mindedly petted him while Aunt Anne and I spoke in quiet voices. She grew silent for a moment, and just sat there looking at us. “Mark,” she said quietly, “whatever you do, don’t let anyone ruin what you have with Taylor . I know your life is hard right now, but you’re a very lucky boy. Most people go through their entire lives without finding what you have. It’s worth more than any amount of money—it’s worth more than anything.” “I know,” I said, smiling as I looked down at Taylor . “Despite everything, I wouldn’t give up what I’ve had with Tay for anything. I’ve never felt this way before. I just wish everyone could be like you.” She sighed. “Everyone has their own thoughts and feelings, Mark. Our lives and those around us shape us all. None of us can help but be what we are.”
It was true, but it didn’t make things any easier. I wondered why so many of the boys at school hated Tay and I so much. What did they fear from us? What made them think that we had harmed them or threatened them? I couldn’t comprehend, just as they couldn’t understand me. Our talk drifted on to other topics. About an hour later, Tay awakened. We bid Aunt Anne good night and dragged our weary tails to bed. The soft comforters and goose down mattress felt so good to my tired body. I mumbled a good night to Taylor and he murmured something back. I feel fast asleep with Tay snuggled up by my side.
Taylor Friday was, perhaps, the best day of my entire life. It started out in bed with Mark, moved to a shower with Mark (where we did a lot more than just get clean), and continued on with Mark all day long. We spent hours walking through the fields and under the trees, holding hands all the time. We stopped so often to kiss that I lost count. Sometimes our kisses were simple and quick, sometimes they were deep and passionate, and it took several minutes before we moved on. Despite what we’d done in bed that morning, and in the shower, we made love several times during the day. Mark was insatiable, but then so was I. I simply couldn’t get enough of him. Every time I looked at him, I wanted him all the more. His firm, muscular body was irresistible. Knowing how good I could make him feel was something else I couldn’t resist. It was wonderful and intense! In the late morning, Mark and I were walking through the woods on the edge of the fields when Mark suddenly pressed his hand to my chest, holding me back. He held his finger to his lips, indicating I shouldn’t speak, then pointed just ahead. Standing there, looking at us from less than fifty feet away, wasn’t just one, but two, very small deer. It was too late in the season for fawns, but they looked almost like babies to me. They were so cute and sweet I wanted to
walk up and pet them. I didn’t move from where I stood; I knew they’d run if I did. Mark put his arm around my waist and pulled me close, then we crouched down to the ground to show them we weren’t a threat. We sat there for almost half an hour, just watching the little deer. They slowly worked their way closer, munching on grass and stopping to watch us every now and then, until they were only about fifteen feet away. They showed no fear of us. Perhaps they knew that Mark and I wouldn’t harm them. Mark and I didn’t make a move. After a good long time, the two little deer slowly turned and walked away, quite unconcerned with our presence. I smiled at Mark, and then kissed him. It was such a beautiful day. Near noon , Mark and I stopped under the shade of a giant maple tree. It was in its full fall glory, adorned with bright yellow and gold leaves, which also covered the forest floor below, like a blanket. We sat right down in them and pulled out a picnic lunch Aunt Anne had prepared for us. We fed each other peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, then washed them down with cold sodas. I felt like I was living a dream. I lay with my head in Mark’s lap. There was a roof of yellow leaves above us. The scent of fall was in the air and it made me feel comfortable and content. Mark fed me grapes, one by one, as I lay there. There was something romantic about it, although it made me giggle. I was so happy when I was with him. Mark lay by my side and we joined hands. We lay there in silence, enjoying the closeness and love. We
drifted off to sleep and it was over an hour before we awakened. I woke up first and awakened Mark with a kiss. He smiled at me and, although it was chilly, we made love on the soft blanket of leaves. It was evening before I remembered that it was Halloween. I remembered how I loved Halloween when I was a little kid. This Halloween was better than all the rest, however, because I was with Mark. We were undoubtedly missing out on whatever parties might be going on back in Verona , but I wasn’t one bit sad about that. Mark and I probably wouldn’t have been welcome anyway. It didn’t matter, who needed a party when I had Mark?
Scene 5
Acceptance Among Friends
Mark It’s a funny thing, but tales of days that are pleasant to experience usually aren’t very interesting to hear and don’t take long to tell, while unpleasant, even dangerous events, make an exciting tale and take a good deal of telling. Friday at Aunt Anne’s was one of those enjoyable days that were fun to live, but not much to talk about. We spent the day walking through the fields and forests around the farm—exploring, laughing, acting wild, and just generally having fun. That night after supper, Tay and I took an old comforter and walked out to a little hill far enough from the house that the lights wouldn’t bother us. The night was cloudless, and the stars looked like a thousand diamonds imbedded in a vast velvety blackness. We spread the comforter on the grass and lay down upon it, staring up at the tiny pinpoints of light, which looked so close; I felt like I could reach out and touch them. “Look, there’s the Milky Way,” said Taylor , pointing off to the right. “And the Seven Sisters.” I pulled him close and we gazed out at the vastness of space. I’d looked at the stars many times before, but gazing at them with Tay was different. I could really see them when I was with him. I could feel what they really were and truly appreciate their beauty. There were so many beautiful things in the world that most
people just didn’t see, even though they were right in front of their eyes. Taylor shifted around, then rested his head on my chest and sighed with contentment. I idly twirled my fingers through his hair as we explored the heavens. “Look” I said, pointing to the southeast. “There’s a satellite.” “Where?” “See, the bright object that looks like a planet. It’s moving way too fast to be a planet or star, and it’s much too high for a plane. See it?” “Yeah,” said Tay , in amazement. “You’re right. I’ve never seen a satellite before.” We lay there in silence for a good long time, just looking at the stars and enjoying the closeness. I could hear Taylor ’s soft, quiet breath and feel his head upon my chest. His hair was silky and soft between my fingers. I was always happiest when I was with Tay . We’d been through so much together, but it was all worth it. Life was good, at least for now. “Do you think the world will ever change?” asked Taylor . “Do you ever think they’ll be a time when guys like us won’t have to hide what we are?” “I hope so,” I said with a sigh, “but I’m not sure. There’s always someone just itching to cause trouble and put someone else down. Every minority’s been through this—black people, Asians, Native Americans... anybody who’s different. I’m afraid there’ll always be guys like Devon around, but I think
things will get better. I think little by little, people will eventually start to understand. It’ll just take a long, long time. And of course, Verona , Indiana will be the last place on earth it happens.” “That’s for sure!” said Taylor , laughing sadly. We kept watching the stars until we grew chilly. Then we stood and I wrapped my arms around Tay and hugged him. “I’m so lucky to have you,” I whispered. “I love you so much, Taylor .” “I love you, Mark, and I’m the one who’s lucky.” He squeezed me tight, and then we headed for the house. Taylor and I undressed and crawled into bed. We’d taken quite a chill in the night air, and the comforters felt good and warm. We snuggled up against each other like two little puppies. Tay ’s naked skin felt so soft against my own. We fell asleep in each other’s arms. *** When I awakened on Saturday morning, Taylor was holding me close. It felt so good lying in his arms. I smiled, and then he leaned toward me and pressed his lips to mine. We kissed softly, then more deeply. We made slow, deliberate love, giving each other as much pleasure as was humanly possible. Each time with Taylor was filled with love, warmth, and sensual delight.
It was a good two hours later before we made it out of bed. Neither of us was eager to leave our warm nest, or each other. I slipped out of the bed and pulled Taylor along with me. I led him into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The hot water splashed down upon our young, firm bodies. Even though we’d just made love, I couldn’t resist kissing Taylor yet again. We necked in the shower, then lathered each other up and rinsed each other off. Two in the shower was so much more fun than one. It was too much to resist: Taylor ’s naked body... the hot water massaging us... the room filling with clouds of steam. My hands began to roam over Taylor , caressing his wet skin. I explored his young body with my fingertips, then my lips and tongue. Tay explored me with his sensuous mouth, and the pleasure of it made me moan. We made love to each other, right there in the shower. It was probably the longest shower of my entire life, and definitely the most fun. We dried and dressed, then went downstairs and had a late breakfast. We were starving. The country air and all the strenuous physical activity had given us voracious appetites. I don’t think I’d ever been so relaxed, or so content as I was with Taylor that weekend. ***
Brandon arrived early Saturday afternoon and to my delight, Jon was with him. We weren’t really expecting Brandon until later in the day, but both Taylor and I were happy to see him. You might have thought we would’ve considered his early arrival an infringement on our time alone, but we’d already had lots of that, and besides, Brandon was a good friend—no, make that a great friend. Not only had he stuck up for us both time and time again, but also he was making two ten -hour round-trips just so we could have some time alone together. Not many friends would do something like that. Besides, Taylor and I could be ourselves in front of Brandon and Jon. They accepted us for what we were. Taylor and I had planned a bonfire and weenie roast for the early evening, and we were more than happy to have Brandon and Jon join us. Taylor sharpened a couple more roasting sticks while I started the fire. Pretty soon there was a good blaze going. The logs sputtered and hissed, and the fragrant smoke smelled of sassafras. I loved the aroma of wood smoke. There was a definite chill in the air, but it was all nice and toasty near the fire. I breathed in deeply. There was nothing like the scent of fall, especially in this part of Indiana . Taylor was laughing and smiling as he talked and joked with Brandon and Jon. It made my heart lighter, just to see him in such good spirits. Jon couldn’t get the hang of spearing a hot dog on a stick, and wound up mangling his almost beyond
recognition. I tried not to laugh, but a loud chortle forced its way out. It was just too funny. “Lemme help you with that Jon,” said Taylor and impaled his hot dog for him. We were all city-boys, but I don’t think Jon had ever been out of town. His ignorance of the country was pretty obvious. On our way out to the bonfire, he had stared at the cattle like they were some kind of weird, exotic animals. I don’t think he’d ever seen such a thing before. He definitely needed to spend some time out on Ethan’s farm. At least he seemed pretty good at roasting his hot dog, once Taylor put it on the stick for him. “How’s Jennifer?” I asked. “Nice—very nice,” said Brandon meaningfully. Jon picked up on that instantly. He had keen senses when the topic was sex, no matter how veiled. “So you two’ve been, uhm...” Jon’s voice trailed off, he didn’t know how to ask what he was asking without saying the wrong thing. “Yeah!” said Brandon , wiggling his eyebrows and laughing. “Oh, yeah!” “Man!” said Jon, shaking his head. “Am I the only one not gettin’ any around here?” Taylor and I looked at each other and grinned. Neither Brandon nor Jon failed to pick up on what passed between us. “I’m afraid so,” said Taylor , patting Jon on the back.
“Someday I’m just gonna explode!” yelled Jon in frustration. We all laughed at that, except Jon. “It’s easy for you guys to think it’s funny,” he protested. “I’m serious!” That just made us laugh harder. It took us quite awhile to get ourselves under control. We roasted hot dogs, gulped sodas, and talked. It was great to spend time with Taylor and my buddies. Aunt Anne’s farm really was a magical world where all our troubles were kept at bay. Jon had an even bigger problem with the marshmallows than he did the hot dogs. He could get them on his stick all right, but each one turned into a flaming torch moments after he stuck it in the fire. “I swear, Jon,” I said, taking the charred stick from him, “we’re gonna have to sign you up for a remedial marshmallow roasting class. Here, like this.” I demonstrated how to toast the marshmallow a golden brown, without catching it on fire. Even after my fine lesson, Jon still couldn’t get the hang of it. *** All too soon, it was time for Taylor and our friends to depart. I wished they could’ve stayed longer, but we’d had a wonderful time. Taylor packed up his things and threw them in Brandon ’s car, and Aunt Anne came out
with a big bag of just-baked chocolate chip cookies for their trip home. She thought of everything. Brandon smiled when she handed the bag to him. Apparently, he’d really enjoyed the last batch. I hugged Taylor tight and said goodbye, then kissed him on the lips, right in front of Brandon, Jon, and Aunt Anne. Brandon and Aunt Anne smiled, but Jon turned away, slightly embarrassed. As the car pulled away down the gravel driveway, tears welled up in my eyes. I already missed Tay even before the car was out of sight. My heart ached for him, but I knew it’d only be a couple of days before we’d see each other again. Aunt Anne put her hand on my shoulder and led me back inside. Aunt Anne was so cheerful that my mood was soon much improved. Aunt Anne was always happy. She was one of those that could see the good in everything. “You really love him very much, don’t you, Mark?” It was more of a statement than a question. “Yeah,” I said wistfully. “I really do.” She smiled. “I can tell. The way you look at him, and the way he looks at you, speaks volumes. There aren’t many people who find a love like that. You’re very lucky.” I sighed. “I know, but sometimes I don’t feel so lucky.” She gave me a sympathetic look. “I know, honey. I know.” She came over and gave me a hug.
I felt so safe in her embrace. I wished yet again that she was my mother. How different everything would’ve been then. *** Aunt Anne and I talked while she made supper. Her voice was like a song that eased my heart. I loved her so much. Loneliness touched my heart as I climbed into bed that night. The double bed seemed so empty without Tay . Of course, I wasn’t thinking much about the bed itself when Tay was there. That thought brought a smile to my lips. I awakened a few times that night, thinking Taylor was still there with me—then reaching out and finding only blankets and a comforter. Tay had only been gone a few hours, but I already missed him. I’d grown so accustomed to sleeping with him at my side that I was restless without him. I took Tay’s pillow and put it lengthwise on the bed, then snuggled up against it, pretending it was him, breathing in his sweet scent that was still on the pillow—a scent sweeter than any cologne. My arms ached to hold him close. That’s what I missed most: just holding him. When we made love, what I loved the most was just being with him. It didn’t matter what we were doing, as long as we were together. I helped Aunt Anne all the next day. There were endless things she needed done that she just couldn’t
handle by herself—cleaning out one of the barns, changing a tire on one of the tractors, and moving heavy bags of feed for the horses. I was glad to keep occupied and to help out Aunt Anne. She’d certainly helped me. “I’ve been thinking about something, honey,” she said casually, as she was putting away some dishes. “You and Taylor seem so happy here on the farm. I wonder...” She stopped for a moment, as if wrestling with a difficult decision. “Wonder what?” I asked, curiously. She frowned slightly for a moment, then shook her head. “It’s not my place to suggest it,” she began, “but your mother is my sister. Perhaps she’d listen to me.” She really had me going now. I eyed her curiously as she walked over and sat next to me at the kitchen table, the afternoon sun illuminating the grey highlights in her hair. “Mark, I know you’re unhappy living at your parents’ house. And no matter what you might think, they’re trying to do what’s best for you,” she said. I rolled my eyes. “My parents don’t even know who I am,” I retorted, not liking the direction the conversation was headed. “Listen to your Aunt Anne for a minute,” she said. “Since my husband died two years ago, I’ve gotten along alright by myself. But I’ve been thinking... I could use some help out here, just to help take care of the land, maybe even plant some crops again.”
I remembered back several summers ago, when I used to come out here to help my aunt and uncle with the farm for a few weeks over summer vacation. I was only twelve or thirteen then, but it seemed like a lifetime ago, almost like something from an old home movie. She looked at me, her eyes softening. “I was thinking... what if I talked to your parents and explained my situation. What do you think about the idea of coming out here to stay?” The thought struck me like lightning. “What?” I asked, knowing this had to be too good to be true. “You mean... move out here? Permanently?” She smiled and nodded. “Only if you want to,” she began. “And there’d be rules, of course. There’d still be school—I’d insist that you at least graduate from high school. Both you and Taylor.” Tears sprang to my eyes. “You mean...?” She nodded. “If you want, and if your parents will give their permission. And if Taylor ’s parents feel as strongly as you indicate they do, they may be glad to rid themselves of the embarrassment he’s causing them. But even if Taylor can’t stay out here permanently, he can certainly visit whenever he wants and maybe he could come out during summer vacation.” I practically leaped out of my chair and spun her around, squeezing her tight. “Oh, Aunt Anne... you don’t know what this would mean to us!”
“Now, now,” she said, half-laughing. “This isn’t exactly a done-deal just yet! Don’t you say a word about this to your parents. Your mother is very stubborn, and this will take some doing on my part to convince both of them. See if you and Taylor can hang on a little while until Thanksgiving, and then maybe we can make the arrangements during the vacation break. That way, you two can start school out here after the first of the year. We’ll try it for a few months, and then see how things work out.” I nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak. I’d only want to move if Taylor could come live with Aunt Anne, too. A few visits from him wouldn’t be any good. I couldn’t protect him if he was in Verona and I was on the farm. It had to be all, or nothing. Still, Taylor would flip when I told him! For the first time, there was a real solution to our problems! I began wondering if they had a soccer team at the local high school, out here in the middle of farm country... *** Soon it was six p.m. on Sunday evening, and Mom arrived to take me home. She and Aunt Anne chatted like two hens in the kitchen, so it was another hour before we actually departed. I was getting sleepy. I’d done a lot of work that day, and my muscles ached. I knew I’d be sleeping during a good deal of the fivehour drive home, and it’d be at least midnight when we arrived. I had no doubt I’d have trouble getting up for
school the next morning. It didn’t matter. Our little vacation was worth it. I couldn’t wait to spring the big surprise on Taylor , the moment I saw him the next day! Right before we left, I gave Aunt Anne a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. I loved her so for all she’d done, and what she was going to do for us in the months ahead. She actually had tears in her eyes as we parted. She was the kindest soul I’d ever met. Mom drove like a little old grandmother on the way home; it was almost one a.m. before we pulled into our driveway. I crawled into bed, but tired as I was, I still tossed and turned all night long. When I did sleep, I had horrible nightmares. I couldn’t remember what they were when I awoke, but my mind and heart were troubled. For some reason, I felt frightened, and alone.
Taylor The drive back on Saturday was pleasant, but my heart was heavy. Every moment that passed took me farther and farther away from Mark. I was only truly happy when I was with him. Brandon and Jon kidded around a lot on the way home, no doubt trying to keep my spirits up, but they weren’t entirely successful. They made me smile some, but inside I was sad. I missed Mark. “So, um...” said Jon. “I know this is personal, and you don’t have to answer, but how often do you and Mark... you know?” “Dude,” said Brandon , “that’s way personal! But I’d kinda like to know, too.” Both of them started giggling. “Well,” I said, a bit shyly, “this weekend...” “Yeah?” said Jon. “Um, I kinda lost count, but, uh... somewhere around twelve times, I guess… maybe more.” “Whoa!” said Brandon , shaking his head in disbelief. “We can’t usually do it that much, though,” I quickly added. “I’ll tell you guys something, if you promise not to breathe a word of it to anyone,” I said. “You know you can trust us,” said Brandon , holding his hand over his heart. I held my breath. “Mark and I meet just about every night at the old Graymoor Mansion and...”
“What? Are you crazy?” asked Jon. “That place is so haunted!” said Brandon . “No one goes in there!” said Jon. “You really got Mark to go in there?” asked Brandon . He acted as if the idea were simply unbelievable. “Yeah, why?” “Well, Jon here took me, Ethan, and Mark there once, close to midnight . It was kind of a dare. Mark wouldn’t even get out of the car. He flatly refused.” “He was the smart one,” said Jon. “Why, what happened?” I asked. “Well, we’d just went through the gates and were just stepping onto the front porch when we heard this horrible scream from somewhere inside the house.” “Yeah?” “Yeah, and we all ran like hell! Mark thought it was funny, but then he didn’t get the shit scared out of him,” said Jon ruefully. “I can’t believe you got Mark to go in there.” “Well, Taylor has ways of persuading Mark that we don’t,” said Brandon pointedly. I grinned. “I wouldn’t go near that place again. No fuckin’ way! No offense, but no one in their right mind would go there,” said Jon. “Which is exactly why it’s safe for me and Mark,” I said. “It’s the one place we can be sure that no one will bother us.”
“You ever see any weird shit in there?” asked Jon. I thought for a moment. “Nah. Well... you know, a few times we kinda thought we saw something, but we weren’t sure. We’ve heard some stuff like footsteps, and voices off in the distance, but it was probably just the wind or something.” “It was probably ghosts,” said Jon. We sat in silence, and I thought back to the old house. Maybe there were spirits there, but they never seemed to bother Mark and me. It was almost like we belonged there. “So,” Brandon continued, “you guys go there and... get it on?” I rolled my eyes at him. “We just go there to talk and be together, mainly. At least we can get away from our stupid parents.” “But you really do get it on too, right?” he asked. I sighed. He wasn’t going to let this go. “Yeah, sometimes we get it on,” I admitted. Brandon nodded, as if satisfied with my answer. At least he didn’t ask for any details. Brandon was cool, and a great friend, but he seemed to have a one-track mind. I could tell he’d never been in love—only in lust. I hoped that someday, he could feel for someone the way I felt for Mark. ***
When we got home, I went to bed almost immediately. I was exhausted. The five-hour road trip was tiring, and I hadn’t got much rest on the farm. Mark and I had slept in the same bed every night, but a lot of our time wasn’t spent sleeping. Even when we were so exhausted that we nodded right off, one or the other of us would awaken during the night and wouldn’t be able to resist touching the other. That never failed to result in us “getting it on,” as Brandon put it. Despite my fatigue, I couldn’t fall asleep right away. I’d grown accustomed to having Mark by my side, and I felt his absence keenly. I wanted nothing more than for the two of us to be together, forever. It’d only been a few hours since I’d seen him, but I already missed him so much, I cried. I dreamed of Mark during the night. In my dream, we did a lot of things we’d done on the farm: we rode horses, we took long walks, we talked with Aunt Anne, and we made love. My dreams that night were the best I’d experienced in my whole life. *** “Taylor Potter! Get your lazy ass out of bed!” I jerked awake. Dad was banging on my door and yelling. “I’m up!” I protested. “I’m up.”
Dad didn’t say anything, but I heard his footsteps retreat down the hall. I looked at my little alarm clock. It was nearly noon . I felt like I could sleep even more, but I knew Dad would have a cow. I hadn’t exactly been on his good side since he’d found out I was gay. I showered and dressed, then walked to the kitchen. Dad was gone, but Mom was washing dishes. I poured myself a bowl of Count Chocula and sat at the table. “Brandon and Jon asked me to the movies tonight,” I said. “Is it okay if I go?” She hesitated. “I don’t know, Taylor . You just spent three days with Brandon and your father doesn’t like you running around at night.” If he only knew what I did at night, I thought. “Please, Mom!” I begged. “ Brandon will pick me up here. We’ll probably eat out, and then see a movie. I’ll be with Brandon and Jon the whole time. Brandon will probably bring his girlfriend, too.” “Does Jon have a girlfriend?” she asked suspiciously. I knew what she was doing—she was making sure he wasn’t gay. Mom and Dad suspected I was looking for another boyfriend since I couldn’t see Mark. Little did they know that I was still seeing Mark. “Jon’s girlfriend dumped him a couple weeks ago,” I explained. “He’s got his eye on this one girl, though, so maybe he’s gonna ask her out.” I was lying, but I knew what my mom wanted to hear.
“Maybe they could find you a nice girl, too,” said Mom hopefully. She just wouldn’t give it up. My parents were determined that I wouldn’t be gay. I felt like screaming, but I played it cool because I really wanted to go out with Brandon and Jon. “Maybe,” I said, playing along. “ Brandon knows lots of girls.” That seemed to appease my mother. “Well, I guess you can go then. But I want you home right after the movie ends.” I smiled. *** I still wasn’t allowed to go out during the day. My parents probably thought I’d try to hook up with Mark or something. Little did they know that he was far, far away at the moment. I put the time to good use and updated my journal, writing about all the things Mark and I had done on the farm. The day passed slowly. I was bored. I spent a lot of time listening to music. I loved music. I’d never told anyone, except Mark, but I’d even written a few songs myself. I’d written one way cool one about me and him, but I never had the courage to sing it out loud. Sometimes, I fantasized about being a rock star, but I knew in my heart that I wasn’t outgoing enough for
anything like that. Getting up in front of people and singing would’ve terrified me. That was okay—it was just a fantasy, so I didn’t have to worry about actually doing it. Still, it was sure fun to imagine it sometimes. For the first time ever, I went back and read some of what I’d written in my journal. I’d started it the very night I met Mark. Well, I had other journals, but this one I started when I met Mark. Somehow I just knew meeting Mark was a pivotal point in my life. I wasn’t wrong. Some of the memories the entries stirred were wonderful, while others were horrible. I was surprised at how graphically I’d written about what Mark and I had done together—the making love parts, that is. If my parents ever found this journal... I suddenly grew afraid. My journal wasn’t safe from my parents. If they snooped around in my room, they’d find it. I couldn’t let that happen. It told everything. What could I do? The safest thing to do would’ve been to destroy it, but I just couldn’t do that. A thought occurred to me: there was someplace where it’d be safe. Dad was gone, but Mom was roaming around the house. Even though it was only about six, it was just getting dark out. I calculated the risk and decided to go for it. I could’ve waited, but now that I’d realized the danger my journal posed, I couldn’t rest until it was safely hidden. I locked my bedroom door and slipped out the window. I ran quickly over to the Graymoor Mansion , clutching my journal. It didn’t take me long to get
there. It was a route I’d memorized well. When I caught my first glimpse of its mansard roof, towering even above the trees, my heart felt lighter. That old house was nothing but spooky to most, but joy swelled in my chest as I approached. Entering Graymoor meant being with Mark. It meant being in the arms of the one I loved. I felt the lack of his presense keenly as I entered the vast old mansion. I sighed. I missed Mark so much my heart ached. I grabbed the flashlight we kept just inside the front door, followed its beam up the stairs, and climbed and climbed until I reached the fourth floor. I followed the corridors Mark and I had explored until I found it—the library, a large room filled with hundreds and hundreds of dusty leather-bound books. Even if someone looked, which they wouldn’t, they wouldn’t be likely to find my journal among all those other volumes. Only I’d know where it was hidden. I sat down and added to the entry I’d written earlier in the day. There wasn’t much to write, but I liked to get things down on paper in case I forgot them. That was going to be a lot more difficult from now on. I’d have to come to Graymoor to make entries; instead of just writing a bit whenever the mood hit me, or there was something I just had to set down on paper. The minutes were ticking away. Brandon and Jon would be at the house soon to pick me up and every second that passed was one more in which my mother could discover I was gone. I opened my journal and quickly wrote down what had happened since my last
entry. I really should’ve been dating these things, but it was too late for that now. I laughed to myself. I felt a little silly at how I wrote down every little thing. I was doing it even now! It didn’t matter. I could write what I wanted in my own journal. It’d be fun to read years from now, when I was old and grey. Even this: I love you, Mark! I smiled and drew a big heart around “Mark.” I couldn’t wait until I was with him again.
Act 5
The End
Scene 1
The Nightmare Becomes Real
Mark I was almost cheerful the next day as I walked into school. The bad dreams of the night before were only a distant, unpleasant memory. The little vacation Tay and I had taken together had done wonders to improve my disposition. I’d certainly needed the break. Most of the improvement came from seeing Taylor happy, however. Tay’s well-being was far more important to me than my own. When he was happy, I was happy. It was as simple as that. I lived for him. I grinned. Soon, happiness would become the rule instead of the exception in our lives. It was just a matter of time before Aunt Anne would be able to convince our parents to let us live on her farm. Finally, we’d be together, and nobody could take us apart. I couldn’t wait to give Taylor the good news! As I trotted up the stone steps in front of the main entrance, I steeled myself for the disapproving glares, the vicious taunts, and unkind words—all the things that awaited me behind those doors every day. I never failed to experience a sense of dread as I walked into school. Each day I mentally fortified myself for what was to come. Nothing could’ve shielded me from what awaited me, however. As unpleasant as all the other days had been, this day was destined to be infinitely more horrible.
As I walked in, all heads turned toward me. I had grown accustomed to the unwanted attention, but something more was going on. My classmates were all looking at me — staring, some with disapproval and distaste, but many with sadness and pity. There was a pall over the atmosphere, a dread in the air. I looked about confused, and quite suddenly, I was afraid— afraid as I’d never been before. Jennifer ran up to me, her eyes filled with tears. She placed her hand on my shoulder. My mind reeled in terror and confusion. What could be so wrong? “I’m so sorry, Mark. I...” Jennifer’s voice cracked and tears ran down her cheeks. She hugged me, and then stepped back, crying. Others drew near. Jon, Ethan, Matt, Nathan, Steve—they were all there, and each of them looked at me with such pity and grief that my heart clutched in terror. Even Laura looked at me with sorrow in her heart. I was lost in a crowd of sadness and gloom. Hopelessness filled the air. I looked from face to face—uncomprehending, disoriented, terrified. “What’s happened?” I asked, uncontrolled terror welling within me, as if somehow in my heart I already knew. “My God,” said Jennifer softly, “you don’t even know.” I’d never heard a voice so filled with pity, sadness, and sympathy. It frightened me as nothing had before. She tried to speak, she tried to tell me, but the words wouldn’t come.
Suddenly, another voice cut through the haze that clouded my mind— a voice cruel and filled with hate, a voice delighting in other’s pain. “He’s dead. Taylor ’s dead. Your boyfriend killed himself last night,” said Devon . I turned to him. His eyes were filled with malice, hate, and an unmasked delight in destroying my entire world. My heart turned to ice. No, I thought. It couldn’t be true. It was just another dream, a nightmare. I knew that I was awake, however, as badly as I wanted all that was happening not to be real. It was a trick then, a horrible, cruel, evil joke. I looked into Jennifer’s eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks. I looked from face to face to find many others crying. Ethan and Nathan were bawling—their eyes red, tears streaming down their cheeks. Jon was in as nearly as bad a state. My heart wretched, I tore at my hair, and screamed. My eyes flooded with tears. I couldn’t accept it, but it was all real. He was gone, dead. My Taylor was dead. My mind screamed. How could this have happened? Why? Oh God, why? He was so happy with me. We had experienced such joy together at Aunt Anne’s. Everything was on the verge of getting better. Why now? Why? “One down,” said Devon , with a deathlike grin. “One to go.” The entire hallway grew deathly still. Not one of those standing there could believe what they had just
heard. In an instant, my grief turned to uncontrolled rage. I spun on my heel and smashed Devon in the face. My fist snapped his head around. Devon promptly kicked me right in the nuts. The pain was intense, but I ignored it completely. I flew into him, my fists flying, smashing into his face, his stomach, and his chest. I knocked him to the floor. Devon was bleeding from a busted lip and a cut over his left eye. One of his teeth lie on the floor. He cowered before me. I reached down, grabbed him by his collar and dragged him to his feet. I read the terror in his eyes. He feared for his life, and rightfully so. His little gang wasn’t here to help him out this time. It was just him and me, and this time, it was to the death. I punched him once more, putting my entire bodyweight behind my fist. Almost in slow motion, there was a loud snap as his jawbone broke. Devon screamed in agony and fell again, clutching his face. I reached out for him again, determined to finally give him what he deserved—death. My hands squeezed around his neck, crushing his windpipe, a strangled scream caught in his throat. His hands clawed uselessly at my chest, and I squeezed even tighter. His face was turning purple, and I slammed his head against the lockers, over and over, just waiting for his eyes to die. Suddenly, I felt strong arms on me, pulling me back. I fought to escape, but I could not. It was lucky for Devon that our classmates held me. I have no doubt I would have killed him if I could have gotten my hands
on him again. I kept struggling, but I could not break the hold they had on me. I was infuriated. I was totally out of control. All I could think about was killing that bastard, once and for all. “Mark! Stop it! Calm down!” I looked with wild eyes into a familiar face. It was Brandon . I didn’t know when he’d arrived. He hadn’t been there before, but he was one of those holding me back. I stopped struggling when I saw him. My mind was filled with grief and pain. Brandon and the others let me go, and the crowd parted as I pushed my way out the front door. I stumbled down the steps, crying, blinded by my tears. I nearly fell, someone caught me, steadied me. “Come with me.” It was Brandon . He led me away from the crowd and into his car. He drove while I sobbed uncontrollably. I cried for I don’t know how long—an hour, two, more? Finally, as we reached the outskirts of town, I settled down a bit. Brandon pulled the car to the side of the road and stopped. I looked into his eyes. “What happened?” I asked him, sobs still racking my voice. “Mark, I don’t think...” “Tell me!” I cried. “I have to know!” Brandon looked like a doomed man, heading for the gallows. I knew that he would’ve rather done anything than tell me what I needed to know. I knew it brought
him unbearable pain, but he did as I asked. As he spoke, I could see it all in my mind as if I was there. “Jon and I took Taylor home on Saturday night. On Sunday evening, we picked him up and we all went out for pizza. Everything was fine. He was happier than I’d seen him in a long time. We even took in a movie. We dropped him off at his house a little after ten. Less than an hour later, Taylor showed up at my house, crying and trembling. His eyes were wild. I’d never seen him like that before. Just looking at him scared the hell out of me. I asked him what was wrong. He was crying so hard, it took him a long time to compose himself enough to be able to talk. “‘They kicked me out!’ he cried. ‘My parents kicked me out!’ “I tried to soothe him, but he pulled away from me. He wouldn’t let me touch him. He was upset, almost out of his mind. He started bawling again. He was totally hysterical, and it took almost fifteen minutes before he could stop crying long enough to tell me what happened. Even then he was sobbing, struggling to get the words out. “When he walked up to his house, after Jon and I dropped him off, he found his stuff sitting on the front porch. His dad came out and started yelling at him. He told him he...” Brandon hesitated. I could tell he didn’t want to go on. “ Brandon ,” I begged, “please—just tell me.”
He took a deep breath. “ Taylor ’s father told him he didn’t want a faggot son. He said he’d found out that Taylor was still seeing you, that the two of you had been sleeping together—someone told him—I don’t know whom. He’d called my house and found out that Taylor wasn’t with me on fall break. He suspected then that Taylor had been with you. He went nuts. He cussed Taylor out, called him all sorts of terrible things—things a father should never, ever say to his son. Finally, he grabbed Taylor and punched him right in the face. He would’ve done more, but Taylor fought him off. His mom was there, but all she did was watch. All the neighbors were watching by then, too, so Taylor’s dad threw his things at him and screamed, ‘Get out, you fucking little queer, and don’t ever come back!’ Then he went inside and slammed the door. Taylor turned and ran all the way to my house. He was really freaked out. I’d never seen anyone look like that before.” “Why didn’t he come to me?” I asked sobbing. “I think he would’ve, but you weren’t home yet.” “My God! If I had just been home I could’ve saved him!” I was bawling my eyes out now, on the verge of hysteria myself. “It’s all my fault!” “Mark, listen to me!” yelled Brandon , shaking me. “ Taylor was half out of his mind! If only you could’ve seen his eyes! They were wild... crazed! I’d never seen him like that before. He looked... insane. He didn’t even look like Taylor , but like some nightmarish version of him. He was out of his head, Mark—
something in him just snapped. You couldn’t have reached him... no one could.” I looked at Brandon with tears running down my cheeks. Each word he spoke was like a dagger in my heart, but I had to hear it. I had to know what happened. “ Taylor kept saying over and over how he’d be better off dead, how everyone would be happy then. He really scared me. I knew he was thinking about killing himself. I talked to him, insisted that it was nonsense and that we’d work things out. I begged him to just stay with me, and that you’d be back soon. I told him that everything would be okay. That just seemed to make him worse. Then, after a little while, he calmed down a bit and asked for a soda. I went to the kitchen to get him one, but when I came back, he was gone. “I ran out of the house looking for him. I couldn’t find him. I called the police and told them what was going on. They sent out patrols looking for him.” “What time was this?” I snapped. Why didn’t you call me?” I asked, my voice almost desperate. “I did call, it was close to midnight by then. Your dad answered, said you wouldn’t be back until late. I even called your Aunt Anne, but you’d already started home. There was just no way to reach you. “When I couldn’t reach you, I called Jon and Ethan. We went out looking for Taylor . We thought we could figure out where he went. We figured we could find him better than anyone else. We went to the Graymoor House first. Taylor had told me how you guys went
there, how he felt safe there. We searched that place from top to bottom. It took forever, but he wasn’t there.” Brandon suddenly stopped, tears running down his cheeks. He was crying. “Then what happened?” I pressed, forcing out the words between sobs. It was a long time before Brandon could speak again. “We found him,” Brandon choked, his voice eerie and barely above a whisper. “It took us hours, but we found him. He was on the soccer field.” He paused, shaking, his eyes glazed over with grief and the overwhelming sadness of his memory. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and his voice was racked with sobs whenever he started to speak. It was a long while before he could go on. I waited patiently. I knew how hard it was for him; how it was tearing him up inside. I needed to know what happened, and yet, I didn’t want to know. Finally, Brandon regained his composure and was able to go on. When he spoke, his eyes and voice were distant, like he was speaking to someone who wasn’t really there. “He was leaned up against the soccer goal, his head slumped over. I approached him and called out his name, but...” Brandon began sobbing all over again. “But he didn’t answer. He didn’t move.” Brandon ’s voice was racked with sobs. “I reached out and touched him,” he said. “He was cold. I checked his pulse, and it was still. Jon ran and
called an ambulance, but it didn’t matter. It was... it was too late. He was already dead.” Brandon broke down in tears. I wrapped my arms around him and we cried together. It was many long, hard minutes before Brandon spoke again. “The paramedics came. They found the bottle in his jacket. He overdosed on some pills. I don’t know what they were, or where he got them. There was nothing they could do. I’m so sorry, Mark.” We sat there for a long, long time, stricken with grief. It was all so unreal. It was like it couldn’t possibly be true. My God... Taylor was dead. I felt numb. I asked Brandon to drive me home. I opened the car door, but hesitated before getting out. “ Brandon ,” I said as sincerely as I could, “thank you for all you’ve done—for me, and especially for Tay . I can’t tell you how good a friend you’ve been. Thank you.” I leaned over and hugged him tight. I kissed him on the cheek before I stepped out of the car and closed the door. Brandon had a strange look in his eyes. “Mark, listen to me—you’re gonna be okay, man. Please, promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” I stared at him, but didn’t answer. “Please, Mark,” he begged. “Please promise me.”
I looked at him sadly. “Whatever I do, it won’t be stupid. I promise.” He nodded, and then took off down the street. As I watched his car disappear in the distance, I was sure that in his heart, Brandon knew he’d never see me again.
Scene 2
The End of the Nightmare No one was home; no one would be for a long time. I went to my room and cried my eyes out. I couldn’t believe Taylor was really dead. I was in shock and grief. I thought my life had been a living hell before, but it was nothing compared to the loss of Tay . My life was destroyed. There was nothing left. Taylor was gone! The only person that I really loved... and that really loved me... was gone! “ Tay , how could you leave me like this?” I asked my empty room. Why, Taylor ? Why?”
I was out of my mind with grief. I searched through the medicine cabinets, but I didn’t know enough to be sure that what was there would kill me. I rifled through my father’s dresser drawers. At last, I found it: hard, cold, and black—his .38 revolver. I searched out the bullets and loaded the gun. Trembling, I pointed it at my head and began to squeeze the trigger. I stopped myself. There was something I had to do. I stuffed the revolver into my backpack and tossed it on my bed. I sat at my desk. There, lying on top, was my English homework. I read aloud the quote that I’d used to start my essay weeks ago. “In fair Verona , where we lay our scene. From ancient grudge, break to new mutiny. Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, a pair of star crossed lovers take their life. Whose misadventures piteous overthrows, doth with their death bury their parents’ strife...” That’s about as far as I’d been able to get on my English report—only a few short words copied directly from a tattered paperback. I crumpled the paper into a ball and sent it sailing toward the wastebasket. It dropped in with a satisfying thump. I wouldn’t be needing it any more. Like my life, it had become unwanted and without reason for existence.
I’d struggled through Shakespeare, but I’d come to understand him only too well. Life was a tragedy. When first I read Romeo and Juliet—a task I undertook only under duress—I believed Shakespeare’s work bore little resemblance to modern life. Who really gave a damn about a four hundred year-old romance? And why didn’t Romeo just find some other babe to plow? My eyes had opened since that day, however, and I’d grown. Shakespeare’s words began to make sense. After the events of past few weeks, he could well have been telling the story of my own miserable life. “In fair Verona , Indiana , where we lay our scene. From ancient prejudice, break to new mutiny...” The parallel was only too clear, but my story didn’t possess the romantic distance of a past age. The memory of what had so recently passed was not yet dulled and blurred by time. Centuries didn’t separate me from those terrible events. The wounds weren’t healed, but were still fresh and painful. Salt was yet being heaped upon them, sharpening the pain, intensifying the torment. My recent past was like a sharp stick, jabbing me in the gut, impaling me while I squirmed to escape. There could be no escape for me, however; my fate was set.
All was lost. There was just no other way to describe it: everything that I cared about was gone forever. My mind reeled with sorrow. How could it all have come to this? Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t those around me have just understood and let me—let us—be? I took out the floppy disk I kept hidden in my desk and slipped it into the Commodore disk drive, which whirred to life. It contained the daily journal I’d been keeping of everything that had happened since I’m met Tay . Only this morning before school I’d added another section. I didn’t want to write the words I was about to type, but I felt an overpowering need to finish my story. I pulled the keyboard toward me and continued my tale. I’d leave an account of what had happened, so maybe some other boy would not meet my fate. *** And so I’ve come full circle. My Taylor is dead, and I’m soon to follow. There is nothing left for me. Taylor was all I cared about. Without him, there is no life. Without him, there is no reason to suffer the slings and arrows of a cruel world. There is no reason to bear the withering glances, the taunts, the disapproval, the hatred, and the abuse. There is no reason to exist. The time had come for the vampire to meet his inevitable fate.
“A pair of star crossed lovers take their life... doth with their death bury their parents’ strife...” Maybe my own death would finally bring peace to my friends and family. Maybe it’d teach them a little about acceptance and understanding. I thought of my Aunt Anne, who’d given me fleeting hope... of my friends Brandon and Jon... of those few who stood by me and helped me on my way. My heart filled with sorrow. I wrote out notes to Aunt Anne, Brandon, and Jon, thanking them with all my heart for being there for me—for us. I thanked them for standing by Taylor and me, when we needed them the most. I told them their kindness and understanding weren’t for naught. What they did brought Taylor and I a short span of happiness that was dearer to me than all the world. A moment with Taylor was worth a lifetime. I told them not to cry for me too much. I was sure that I was going to be with Taylor , and that’s all I’d ever wanted. Maybe Tay and I could at last go to that place we dreamed about. I slipped the notes into a large envelope, put a stamp on it, and addressed it to Brandon . I turned back to my computer and looked one last time at what I’d written. I shook my head sadly. Never was there a story filled with more woe. I hit “save” and sent my story to the floppy disk. I put it in the envelope
with my notes and sealed it. I’d mail it to Brandon before I did what I had to do. I looked over at my dresser and smiled; Taylor ’s old rabbit was sitting there. He’d given it to me not long after everyone found out about us. It was his very first toy ever and he’d always kept it close. He said it’d watch over me, when he wasn’t there. I picked it up and hugged it to my face. It smelled like Taylor —the memory of him caused tears to once more to flow from my eyes. I missed him so much my heart was breaking. It seemed a thousand years since I’d held him in my arms. I couldn’t bear to leave the rabbit behind, but I couldn’t take it with me where I was going either. My brow wrinkled in thought and then a small smile formed on my lips. I knew where it would be safe. I thought of something else I didn’t want to just leave behind either—not for my parents in any case. I looked at the clock. Yes, there was just enough time. An hour later, everything was prepared. A thick envelope addressed to Brandon lie on my desk, as did a box with Ethan’s address written on top. Both were covered with stamps—every last one I could find in the house. I sighed. That’s all it took to tie up the loose ends of my life. I opened my window and looked outside one last time. Evening had already come and the stars were out. I gazed at them, wondering if Taylor could see them too. I was glad that the stars would always be there.
I glanced at my backpack sitting on the bed, the handle of the revolver just barely visible in the side pocket. It was time to go. It was time to walk to the soccer field one last time. It was time to join Taylor.
Jordan, I found some newspaper clippings in the library that covered what happened to Mark and Taylor almost twenty years ago. I thought you might want to read them. —Nick
The Verona Citizen – Tuesday, November 4, 1980 : LOCAL ATHLETE OVERDOSES AT VERONA HIGH SCHOOL
Verona students and residents were stunned when the body of Taylor Jordan Potter, aged 16, was found on a soccer field on school property yesterday. Potter apparently overdosed on barbiturates. Potter, who had reportedly been suffering from emotional problems, died late Sunday night or in the early hours of Monday morning. Fellow students, concerned over his whereabouts following an argument with his parents, didn’t discover his body around 6:30 AM Monday morning, November 3. An autopsy is scheduled for later this afternoon, and it’s expected that the coroner will rule the death a suicide. “Taylor was one of our finest athletes,” commented principal Jerry Phelps, a 15-year veteran of the school. “I know I’m speaking for the whole school when I say we’ll miss him very much.” When asked about the rumors about Potter’s alleged emotional problems, Phelps refused to comment; saying only that the athlete had “no enemies at the school.” Assistant principal Jackson Montgomery agreed, saying that Potter’s school record was exemplary and that his grades were above average. “ Taylor was a fine boy,” said Montgomery . “Our hearts go out to his
family and friends, and we’re going to run our flag at half-staff for the next few days.” Several Verona High School students, who asked not to be named, said that Potter and another student had been the recent subject of harassment. Because of the nature of this harassment, this paper will investigate further before reporting the details. The deceased student’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Michael J. Potter, of 305 Akron Street, were said to be in shock. When reached late Monday night at press time, Mr. Potter commented that his wife collapsed upon hearing the news, and was currently receiving treatment at a local hospital. When asked whether his son had any drug problems in the past, Potter stated, “My son was many things, but he was never a drug user. My wife and I loved him the best way we knew how.” The father was too upset to provide any further details, except to say that the funeral will be held on Friday, pending on the current police investigation.
The South Bend Standard – Wednesday, November 5, 1980 : OFFICIALS BAFFLED BY APPARENT DOUBLESUICIDE AT VERONA HIGH SCHOOL
Taylor Potter and Mark Bailey were two average students at Verona High School , the largest public facility in the county. Both 16, they were star athletes on the soccer team; both were well-liked, popular teenagers who seemed to have everything going for them. And each was the only child of middle-class parents. And yet each boy died Monday, less than 24 hours apart—each the apparent victim of suicide. School officials were stunned at the death of a second student, after Potter had overdosed on Valium sometime early Monday morning. Bailey’s body was discovered at 7:42PM , just minutes after local residents called police after hearing what sounded like a gunshot in the back of the school. Bailey was found at the exact same spot where the other player’s body had been found earlier the same day, on the school soccer field. Assistant principal Jackson Montgomery was quick to downplay the possible drug connection between the two. “We have a fine school here in Verona ,” said Montgomery . “We’ve only had one student arrested during the entire year, and that was for drinking beer at a football game on a Friday night. I have absolutely no
idea why two students would each kill themselves in the same day. It’s just too incredible to believe, and I’m absolutely certain there’s no connection between the two.” Apparently, neither student was known for using drugs, nor did they have any arrest record. Police officials said that Potter had ingested more than 4000 milligrams of Valium—a common prescription medication given as a muscle-relaxant and sleep aid. The bottle found in his pocket was apparently taken from his parents’ medicine cabinet. Patients taking a far smaller dose have been known to lapse into a coma, often resulting in death after the heart muscles and respiratory system have gone into toxic shock. The student’s parents, Mr. & Mrs. Michael J. Potter of Verona , were said to be in seclusion. A local relative advised that both parents were in severe shock. Student Mark Allen Bailey, who resided with his parents at 825 Winslow St., died from a single gunshot wound to the base of his skull, issued from a Smith & Wesson .38 revolver. Autopsy reports indicated that the teenager “probably died instantly,” but could not say conclusively that the wounds were self-inflicted, pending further investigation. Bailey’s parents, Mr. & Mrs. William R. Bailey, issued a statement through their attorney: “Our son was going through a difficult time lately, but we loved him and wanted only the best for him.” They asked that flowers be sent to the Miller Funeral Home in Verona , and that the services would be held on Friday.
Another Bailey relative, Anne Hertwig, contacted the paper to inform us that both Mark Bailey and Taylor Potter had recently been the subject of harassment at school because of their reported homosexual lifestyle. “Both Mark and Taylor were wonderful boys,” she told the Standard in an exclusive interview. “Their school is to blame for not protecting them against harassment from the bullies and thugs who wanted to hurt them. All they wanted was to love each other, and to be left alone.” Principal Jerry Phelps would not comment on the allegations of the students’ lifestyle, except to say that students of every race and religion were represented at the school. When asked about reports that Bailey had recently been hospitalized for injuries sustained in a vicious beating, Phelps said only that he knew the student had been ill recently, but didn’t know the precise details. “Boys get into fights all the time,” he explained. “Mark was one of our best athletes, and it’s possible his temper got the better of him. But I don’t know about any harassment. We certainly would never tolerate that here at Verona High School , not as long as I’m in charge.” County School Superintendent Robert Wheeland said that a full investigation would be made. “If we learn of any student harassment in Verona ,” promised Wheeland, “you can be sure that we’ll nip it in the bud. We won’t tolerate any such violent activities in any
school in our County, and it’s also against Indiana state school policy, as well.” Phelps also added that classes will end at 1PM on Friday, allowing students and friends to attend the funerals of both boys. A memorial tribute is planned for the school yearbook as well.
The Indianapolis Gay Guardian – November 11, 1980 : This Week’s Editorial: LIFE AND DEATH AT VERONA HIGH SCHOOL
You think it’s hard being gay and out in Indianapolis these days? Try being gay when you’re 16 and going to school in Verona . That was the plight of Taylor Potter and Mark Bailey, two star athletes on the school soccer team, who each tragically ended their young lives last Monday—one with a deliberate drug overdose, the other with a bullet to the brain. School officials seemed stunned when we contacted them yesterday, after confirming with friends and relatives that both sophomore students were gay. Assistant school principal Jackson Montgomery, when confronted with our findings, refused to confirm or deny that both students were gay. “It’s not our policy to comment on the... extra-curricular activities of any of our students,” he said. Montgomery did say that the county had no policy on whether to allow gay students to participate in school functions, hold meetings, or conduct on-campus activities, but did say, “The matter was being fully investigated.”
County School Superintendent Robert Wheeland was much less helpful. He refused to comment on the record, referring only to the law firm representing the City of Verona , Michaelson & Beecham. Our repeated phone calls to the law firm went unanswered. Students at Verona High School , however, were able to provide the real story. “Mark and Taylor were great guys,” said Brandon Hanson, who knew both teenagers as fellow players on the soccer team. “All of us knew they were gay, but they didn’t bother anybody.” But for the last month, both boys had been cruelly harassed and tormented by students, their pleas ignored by teachers... even rejected by their own parents, according to Hanson. “It was horrible,” explained Hanson, in an exclusive interview with the Guardian. “Somehow, Mark’s parents found him and Taylor... well, they found out they were involved with each other. I don’t know why, but Mr. Bailey—that’s Mark’s father—decided he’d try to ‘help’ his son by calling coach and telling him that Mark and Taylor were gay. Once word got out, that was it. Everybody in the school knew.” After repeated attempts, we finally reached Mark’s father, Jeffery Bailey, who reluctantly admitted what had happened. “I thought that the coach could help straighten out my son,” he insisted. “My boy wasn’t gay! It was that other one, that Taylor. He was the one who had seduced my son! He twisted him... made him something he wasn’t. Go ask his parents how they feel,
and leave me alone.” Bailey refused to comment further. Mark and Taylor’s other friends were anxious to assist in our investigation of the situation. “The local papers are shit,” said one student, who asked not to be named. “I’m not gay, but I don’t care if anybody else is—that’s their business. Mark and Taylor were totally cool, as far as I was concerned. They never hit on me or any other guy I know of... all they did was fool around with each other. I never understood what the big deal was.” The student named several others who he felt were responsible for the harassment. We brought those names to the attention of Verona Deputy District Attorney Sam Alonzo, who agreed to investigate the matter. “This is a tragic situation, no matter what their sexual orientation was,” said Alonzo. “Our office is investigating the matter, but so far, it seems clear that there was no criminal intent here. Neither student was murdered, but we could prosecute for assault and battery.” Alonzo was referring to an incident, in which Mark Bailey was beaten so severely in the Verona High School locker room after school; he had to be taken to Johnson Memorial Hospital for treatment. Dr. Rodney Woodridge, the family physician, told us that Bailey had “four cracked ribs, a chipped tibia, and was badly bruised on his back, chest, groin, stomach, arms, and face. Mark also required stitches in his mouth, had to have emergency dental surgery on his lower teeth, and
received more stitches just above his left eyebrow.” Woodridge refused to comment on his patient’s sexuality, referring us only to the boy’s parents. Why the suicides? A friend of both boys, Jennifer Tompkins, believes she knows the answer. “Neither Mark nor Taylor could escape,” she said. “ Taylor ’s parents had just thrown him out of the house, and Mark was barely even on speaking terms with his own parents. Taylor was always very sensitive. I think he just couldn’t take it anymore, and taking the pills was his way of dealing with it. The moment Mark found out on Monday morning that Taylor was dead, he tried to kill Devon , right there in school, but we were able to stop him. Later that evening, Mark killed himself—right on the same spot that Taylor died.” Was Mark Bailey trying to tell us something—trying to send a message to straight society? Apparently not, according to Tompkins. “I think they just wanted to be together,” she said simply. “I know it sounds silly, and like something out of an old movie, but it’s true. Maybe in death, Mark and Taylor can finally be together... and nobody can ever hurt them again.” Family friend Brandon Hanson agreed with Tompkins. “Everybody at school knew the truth,” he insisted. “The teachers, the coaches, everybody in charge... they all just turned their backs on Mark and Taylor. I tried to help them as much as I could, but I couldn’t stop what happened. Maybe nobody could.”
We at the Indianapolis Gay Guardian have to ask: how long will it be before gay students have the same rights as straight teens? We find the school administration’s lack of interest deplorable, and we demand that school officials immediately launch an investigation into the deaths of these two gay students. If it’s true that they were being harassed—and we have every reason to believe that they were—we want the guilty parties to be punished to the fullest extent of the law. As to the county school policy, we demand that all Indiana state-owned schools provide a rule, specifically designed to stop intolerance directed towards anyone, regardless of their sex, race, religion, or sexual preference. Anyone who has regularly read this paper during the 1970s knows that hate crimes against gays are becoming widespread, and we must be given the same rights as any minority. School officials, parents, and police alike don’t seem to understand that gay men and women aren’t hatched. They’re born just like everybody else, they grow up, they go to school. And eventually, they want to love other people. It’s a well-known fact that many people’s sexual orientation is determined at birth. Admittedly, psychiatrists are torn on the issue of whether it’s due to environmental factors or imbedded in our DNA , but some medical researchers indicate there may indeed be a “gay gene” that makes us queer right out of the womb.
Sadly, no one bothered to talk to Mark Bailey or Taylor Potter, either. Nor did anyone in authority listen to what they had to say. Maybe these two teenagers would still be alive today if they had been able to reach out and contact some of their gay brothers and sisters in nearby cities, or get help from the gay support group here in Indianapolis . And to school officials: don’t be surprised if the ghosts of Mark and Taylor haunt the schools of Verona. Their blood is on your hands—and someday, you’ll have to answer for that. —Simon Bernoulli/Editor Indianapolis Gay Guardian
A note on suicide from the author: Suicide is never the right answer. There are always alternatives. It’s easy to think that there is no other way out of a situation, but it simply isn’t true. Suicide is often the result of emotional pain exceeding an individual’s ability to cope with that pain. Taylor is a good example of this. His coping skills simply weren’t up to handling the emotional pain he suffered in his life. If he had stopped to think, he would have sought help, and wouldn’t have cheated himself out of the rest of his life. The problem is that those who are suicidal often don’t stop to think. They just assume there is no other way out. This was the situation with Mark. The loss of Taylor overloaded him with emotional pain. He could not cope with it, and wasn’t in a state of mind where he could give his actions thought. As a result, he died needlessly. If Taylor had given his life a chance, he and Mark could have developed their lives together at Aunt Anne’s farm, and had a beautiful future together. But his decision robbed him and Mark of that chance. If you’re considering suicide, do yourself and those around you a favor, seek help before you reach the point where your coping skills can’t handle what’s going on in your life. The tragedy depicted in this book is fictional, but it’s a good example of what can happen,
if help isn’t sought. Don’t let the story of your life end the same. There are people just waiting to help you. The following is a list of toll free numbers where you can get the help you need. If you’re thinking about suicide, call now. Some numbers are answered 24 hours a day, others are not, but there is always a number to call. Many of the numbers below are especially for gay teens, but older individuals shouldn’t hesitate to call. If for some reason one number doesn’t work, try the next! Adolescent Suicide: 1-800-621-4000 Covenant House (also suicide): 1-800-999-9999 Girls and Boys Town National Hotline: 1-800-4483000 National Crisis Line: 1-866-334-4357 National Hope Line Network: 1-800-784-2433 National Hotline for Gay Teens: 1-800-969-6884 Teen Line Hotline Help Center : 1-888-747-8336 Trevor Project (suicide and counseling hotline): 1800-850-8078 Remember, you can also call 911 and ask for a suicide hotline. Additional numbers can be found by searching the Internet and the yellow pages. A search for “gay youth suicide hotline” or simply “youth suicide hotline”, will bring up links to other places you can get help. The key is to get help, because life is worth living.
The story continues…
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Other Books by Mark A. Roeder Listed in Suggested Reading Order Outfield Menace Outfield Menace is the tale of Kurt, a fifteen-year-old baseball player, living in a small, 1950s, Indiana town. During a confrontation with Angel, the resident bad boy of Blackford High School , Kurt attacks Angel, earning the wrath of the most dangerous gang in town. When Angel finally corners Kurt, however, something happens that Kurt wouldn’t have imagined in his wildest dreams. As the murder of a local boy is uncovered, suspicion is cast upon Angel, but Kurt has learned there’s more to Angel than his bad boy image. Angel has a secret, however, that could get both Kurt and himself killed. Outfield Menace is a story of friendship, love, adventure, and perilous danger. Snow Angel Angel rescued his boyfriend, Kurt, from a hellish existence, but at the cost of exiling himself from his hometown of Blackford , Indiana . Fifteen-years-old and on the run, Angel must make his way until he can fulfill his promise to return to Kurt. Along the way he faces loneliness, hardships, and a brutal blizzard, but makes new friends and finds acceptance he didn’t expect.
Kurt’s life is nearly back to normal, but the love of his life is gone. Kurt is determined not to let Angel’s sacrifice be in vain, but how can he wait three long years for the return his boyfriend had promised him? What will happen when they are reunited at last? Can they be together, or will Kurt and Angel have to run for their lives? Snow Angel is a tale of lovers parted, of survival, and a love that cannot be diminished by distance or time. Ancient Prejudice Break to New Mutiny Mark is a boy who wants what we all want: to love and be loved. His dreams are realized when he meets Taylor, the boy of his dreams. The boys struggle to keep their love hidden from a world that cannot understand, but ultimately, no secret is safe in a small Mid -western town. Ancient Prejudice is a story of love, friendship, understanding, and an age-old prejudice that still has the power to kill. It is a story for young and old, gay and straight. It reminds us all that everyone should be treated with dignity and respect and that there is nothing greater than the power of love. The Soccer Field Is Empty The Soccer Field Is Empty is a revised and much expanded edition of Ancient Prejudice. It is more than 50% longer and views events from the point of view of Taylor, as well as Mark. There is so much new in the
revised edition that it is being published as a separate novel. Soccer Field delves more deeply into the events of Mark and Taylor ’s lives and reveals previously hidden aspects of Taylor ’s personality. Authors note: I suggest readers new to my books start with Soccer Field instead of Ancient Prejudice as it gives a more complete picture of the lives of Mark and Taylor. For those who wish to read the original version, Ancient Prejudice will remain available for at least the time being. Someone Is Watching It's hard hiding a secret. It's even harder keeping that secret when someone else knows. Someone Is Watching is the story of Ethan, a young high school wrestler who must come to terms with being gay. He struggles first with himself, then with an unknown classmate that hounds his every step. While struggling to discover the identity of his tormentor, Ethan must discover his own identity and learn to live his life as his true self. He must choose whether to give up what he wants the most, or face his greatest fear of all. A Better Place High school football, a hospital of horrors, a long journey, and an unlikely love await Brendan and Casper as they search for a better place… Casper is the poorest boy in school. Brendan is the captain of the football team. Casper has nothing. Brendan has it all: looks, money, popularity, but he
lacks the deepest desire of his heart. The boys come from different worlds, but have one thing in common that no one would guess. Casper goes through life as the “invisible boy”; invisible to the boys that pick on him in school, invisible to his abusive father, and invisible most of all to his older brother, who makes his life a living hell. He can’t believe his good luck when Brendan, the most popular boy in school, takes an interest in him and becomes his friend. That friendship soon travels in a direction that Casper would never have guessed. A Better Place is the story of an unlikely pair, who struggle through friendship and betrayal, hardships and heartbreaks, to find the desire of their hearts, to find a better place. Someone Is Killing The Gay Boys of Verona Someone is killing the gay boys of Verona , Indiana , and only one gay youth stands in the way. He finds himself pitted against powerful foes, but finds allies in places he did not expect. A brutal murder. Gay ghosts. A Haunted VictorianMansion. A cult of hate. A hundred year old ax murder. All this, and more, await sixteen-year-old Sean as he delves into the supernatural and races to discover the murderer before he strikes again. Someone is Killing the Gay Boys of Verona is a supernatural murder mystery that goes where no gay
novel has set foot before. It is a tale of love, hate, friendship, and revenge. The Vampires Heart Ever wonder what it would be like to be fifteen-yearsold forever? Ever wonder how it would feel to find out your best friend is not what he seems? Graham Granger is intrigued by the new boy in school. Graham’s heart aches for a friend, and maybe a boyfriend, but is Josiah the answer to his dreams? Why is Bry Hartnett, the school hunk, taking an interest in Graham as well? When strange happenings begin to occur at Griswold Jr./Sr. High, Graham’s once boring life becomes more exciting than he can handle. Mystery, intrigue, and danger await Graham as he sets out on an adventure he never dreamed possible. Keeper of Secrets Sixteen-year-old Avery is in trouble, yet again, but this time he’s in over his head. On the run, Avery is faced with hardships and fear. He must become what he’s always hated, just to survive. He discovers new reasons to hate, until fate brings him to Graymoor Mansion and he discovers a disturbing connection to the past. Through the eyes of a boy, murdered more than a century before, Avery discovers that all is not as he thought. Avery is soon forced to face the greatest challenge of all; looking into his own heart.
Sean is head over heels in love with his new boyfriend, Nick. There is trouble in paradise, however. Could a boy so beautiful really love plain, ordinary Sean? Sean cannot believe it and desperately tries to transform himself into the ideal young hunk, only to learn that it’s what’s inside that matters. Keeper of Secrets is the story of two boys, one a gay youth, the other an adolescent gay basher. Fate and the pages of a hundred year old journal bring them together and their lives are forever changed. Do You Know That I Love You The lead singer of the most popular boy band in the world has a secret. A tabloid willing to tell all turns his world upside down. In Do You Know That I Love You, Ralph, a young gay teen living on a farm in Indiana , has an aching crush on a rock star and wants nothing more than to see his idol in concert. Meanwhile, Jordan , the rock star, is lonely and sometimes confused with his success, because all he wants is someone to love him and feels he will never find the love he craves. Do You Know is the story of two teenage boys, their lives, desires, loves, and a shared destiny that allows them both to find peace. Masked Destiny Masked Destiny is the story of Skye, a high school athlete determined to be the Alpha male. Skye’s obsessed with his own body, his Abercrombie & Fitch
wardrobe, and keeping those around him in their place. Try as he might, he’s not quite able to ignore the world around him, or the plight of gay boys that cross his path. Too frightened of what others might think, Skye fails to intervene when he could have saved a boy with a single word. The resulting tragedy, wise words for a mysterious blond boy, and a unique opportunity combine to push Skye toward his destiny. Oliver is young, a bit pudgy, and interested in little more than his books and possibly his first kiss. As he slowly gains courage, he seeks out the friendship of Clay, his dream boy, in hopes they will become more than friends. Oliver is sought out in turn by Ken, who warns him Clay is not at all what he seems, but Ken, too, has his secrets. Oliver must choose between them and discovers danger, a link to boys murdered in the recent past, and the answers to secrets he’d never dreamed.
Altered Realities Marshall only wanted to help his friends, to undo the pain of the past, but a few moments of thoughtless action changed everything. Altered Realities is the tale of a changed world. All bets are off. Nothing is as it was and what is to be is transformed too. Mark, Taylor , Ethan, Nathan, Brendan, Casper and nearly the entire cast of the Gay Youth Chronicles come together in a tapestry of tales as they all try to deal with the
consequences of Marshall ’s actions. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Dead Het Boys Marshall’s experiences with ghosts and the supernatural are legendary, but when a boy a hundred-years dead turns up in his bedroom with the cryptic message “Blackford Manor,” Marshall realizes his adventures with the other side have only began. As more specters appear to Marshall, he begins to assemble the pieces of a puzzle that lead him to Graymoor Mansion and a set of crimes more heinous than those of modern day serial killers. Just over a year ago, Sean’s best friend, Marty, was murdered and Sean narrowly escaped the same fate. Now, the evil four, a group of boys who were involved with the death of Marty, have returned. Sean, Skye, and the other gay boys of Verona can do little more than watch and wait for the terror to begin again. Soon, Skye learns of a psychopathic homophobe who is in league with his enemies. Things take a curious turn, however, when one of the evil four is brutally murdered. Suspicion turns to Skye. Has he finally gone too far to protect his friends? Skye isn’t the only one with a motive, however. All the gay boys of Verona are suspect. This time around, the shoe is on the other foot.
This Time Around What happens when a TV evangelist struggles to crush gay rights? Who better to halt his evil plans than the most famous rock star in the world? This Time Around follows Jordan and Ralph as they become involved in a struggle with Reverend Wellerson, a TV evangelist, over the fate of gay youth centers. Wellerson is willing to stop at nothing to crush gay rights and who better to halt his evil plans than the most famous rock star in the entire world? While battling Wellerson , Jordan seeks to come to terms with his own past and learn more about the father he never knew. The excitement builds when an assassin is hired and death becomes a real possibility for Jordan and those around him. Jordan is forced to face his own fears and doubts and the battle within becomes more dangerous than the battle without. Will Jordan be able to turn from the path of destruction, or is he doomed to follow in the footsteps of his father? This time around, things will be different. The Summer of My Discontent The Summer of My Discontent is a tapestry of tales delving into life as a gay teen in a small Midwestern town. Dane is a sixteen-year-old runaway determined to start a new life of daring, love, and sex—no matter the cost to himself, or others. His actions bring him to the brink of disaster and only those he sought to prey upon can
save him. Among Dane’s new found “friends” are a young male prostitute and the local grave robber who becomes his despised employer. The boys of A Better Place are back—Ethan, Nathan, Brendan, and Casper are once again dealing with trouble in Verona , Indiana . Drought and circumstance threaten their existence and they struggle together to save themselves from blackmail, financial collapse, and temptation. Brendan must cope with anonymity after being one of the most popular boys in school. Casper must face his own past—the loss of his father and the fate of his abusive brother, who is locked away in the very hospital of horrors from which Brendan escaped. Letters from his brother force Casper to question his feelings—is Jason truly a monster or can he change? Dark, foreboding, and sexy—The Summer of My Discontent is the tale of gay teens seeking to find themselves, each other, and a better place. Disastrous Dates & Dream Boys Disastrous Dates & Dream Boys is the story of teenaged boys who want what we all want, to love and be loved. The boys from A Better Place are back. Shawn yearns for a boyfriend, but fears his father’s wrath if he discovers the truth. Dane, too, is seeking a soul mate and trying to leave his checkered past behind. He yearns for Billy, but if he approaches him will the result be happiness or disaster? Brendan has
created a new life for himself and his boyfriend, Casper , but what happened in his old hometown haunts him and he realizes he must face his father if he is to ever be at peace. Nathan also has issues to resolve with the parents who gave him and his little brother up far too easily. Disastrous Dates & Dream Boys is a tale of fathers & sons, lovers & friends, and above all love and understanding. Phantom World Toby Riester is sixteen, gay, and searching for his first boyfriend. He discovers many potential candidates— Orlando, a cute sixteen year old boy of Latin ancestry who works with Toby at the Phantom World amusement park—C.T., a blond, seventeen year old who is obviously gay—and Spike, a well-built sixteen year old from the internet. Each boy has his own seductive qualities and each is more than his seems. One of them, however, is far more dangerous than Toby ever guessed. Orlando finds himself a girlfriend at Phantom World, but that’s only the beginning of his story. When he meets his girlfriend’s twin brother, Kerry, his world is turned upside down. Mackenzie Riester is the athletic younger brother of Toby. He has little respect for his queer big brother and joins with his new found friend, Billy, in playing an elaborate practical joke on Toby that becomes more perilous than he ever dreamed.
Phantom World is the story of three very different boys—their triumphs, heartaches, and their search for love and acceptance. Second Star To The Right Cedi, a eighteen-year-old British import to the town of Blackford , Indiana, is determined to be a rock star. No one quite knows what to make of the new wild boy in town with his blue hair and overpoweringenthusiasm—not the jocks he torments in revenge, nor his new friends Toby and Orlando. Cedi is certain of his future until his path crosses that of Thad, a tall, dark, older man who tells Cedi he has no talent. Cedi is infuriated, but intrigued. He becomes obsessed with Thad, who wants nothing to do with him. Cedi isn’t about to give up, however, and wedges his way into Thad’s life. Cedi finds himself caught between his love for Thad and his dream. Just when he has what he thinks he wants, his adventure truly begins… The Perfect Boy A specter from the past haunts the halls of Blackford High School , terrorizing anyone who preys on the weak. Rumors say that a Goth/skater boy controls the ghost, but can the rumor be true? A mysterious new boy catches the eye of Toby and his new friend, Daniel Peralta as well. The new boy seems too perfect to be real. Is he or will be become the boy of Toby’s or Daniel’s dreams?
Cedi is living his fantasy—touring with Phantom, the most popular band in the world. Cedi can’t quite forget Thad, the older, mysterious novelist he’s left behind, but is quickly pulled into a world of concerts, autograph signings, and press conferences. Cedi takes an interest in Ross. Ross has his own demons, however, that may forever prevent him from loving anyone but the man of his dreams. The Graymoor Mansion B&B Is turning a haunted mansion into a Bed & Breakfast such a good idea? Sean and his family think so, except for Avery, who believes guests will be scared away by disembodied voices, candles that light themselves, and the ghostly reenactment of the notorious Graymoor Ax Murders. When the gay boys of Verona went their separate ways, Verona was more at peace than it had been in ages. Skye, the local champion of gay boys, has been gone for five long years, however, and much has changed in his absence. Sean and Nick lived apart during their college years. They’ve eagerly anticipated their reunion, but what will happen when Ross, the drummer for Phantom, comes to stay at Graymoor with the band? Is Nick over his Ross obsession—or is there trouble ahead? Jordan and Ralph have long considered starting a family, but can they surmount the obstacles that stand in their way? The gay boys of Verona, old and new, are together once again.