Secret Love
2
Brook, Indiana. Population 983
Lincoln High School. The school I have attended for the past three years. I am now a senior and am counting the days until graduation. 158 including today.
The school day could not be dragging any slower than today. Five more classes to go, I thought as I roamed the hall to my English class. English was my worst subject, not because I was bad at the lessons, but because Andrew sat across from me and I could not pay attention to what the teacher talked about.
His eyes and smile. His hair. His mouth, cheeks and chin. He was my vision of perfection and it was hard not to stare.
I first met Andrew in the fourth grade. I already knew I liked boys back then. He moved to town from Texas. The southern draw of his accent made me like him even more. We became instant friends and I hung out with him often throughout the years. On my 13th birthday, we got drunk. Really drunk. Too drunk, in fact, that I kissed him. He was my first kiss. Our lips intertwined for minutes. He pushed me off and I soon apologized. We laughed about it for weeks.
However, the kiss never left my mind. I think about almost every night as I lay in bed. I imagine what life would be like if we could hold hands at school, walk around as a couple, cuddle in bed at night and whisper sweet things. I know the images would never happen. He had a girlfriend, I had a girlfriend, and I was completely gay while he was straight.
Andrew loves women. Since freshman year of high school, he has had over ten girlfriends that I know of. His newest girl, Tanya, is an awesome chick. She plays bass for a local band, has a tattoo on her wrist, and has purple hair. As much as I like Tanya, I am still jealous of her hands being on Andrew's body at night.
Now, I know some of you might be confused as to why I have a girlfriend if I am not attracted to women. Well, Melanie is my best friend. She knows that I am gay and, in fact, is the only person in the world that knows that secret. Besides my mother. Melanie offered to pose as my girlfriend by constantly holding my hands and pecking my cheek before class. Rumors have started that we have had sex, but I don't know who began that.
Melanie met me by the classroom door. "Morning, babe," she stated and we both leaned in for a kiss. Her lips were always covered in lipstick, sometimes leaving an outline on my cheek.
We took our assigned seats. My eyes immediately met Andrew's. I waved and he smiled sideways. The crooked smile made my member twitch. I shuffled in my seat while pretending to pay attention to what Mrs. Penny said throughout the hour.
Lincoln High School is filled with different clicks. The metal heads, most are stoners, sit near the doors of the cafeteria. They are the last ones in, first ones out. They don't like being closed in without an exit in near proximity. Chris Montgomery is in that group. He was my friend until 6th grade. Then he started listening to heavy music and growing his hair long.
The goths, or "loners", always sit in the middle. They are an odd group of 6 people. They keep their heads down low and only whisper among each other. I have not spoken to any of them mainly because they seem....intimidating.
The jocks consist of a lot of people I know. A group of basketball players among some football and baseball guys. The cheerleaders cling to the group like flies to honey.
The remaining people, myself included, hang out in small groups of their own. Friends with no real 'click' name. My small group contains Andrew, Melanie, Frankie (an exchange student from Africa with killer dreads), Tyler (my friend since kindergarten. Once, he blew up a mailbox with a bottle rocket. He can be crazy at first, but his heart is pure gold.), and Tanya.
The six of us sit at the same table every day at lunch period. Our conversations can be outrageous at times. Once, someone brought us tigers. We had an hour long debate about tigers being caged at zoos. Another time, we talked about the Korean war. For three days in a row. I love my friends. We are a crazy family.
The only one of my "crew" I actually see outside of school is Andrew. He lives three doors down from my house. We walk to and from school together. We hang out at each other's houses all the time. This weekend Andrew is throwing a party while his parents are out of town. He asked me to help him decorate and set up. I was thrilled to put my party planning skills at work. I surprised him a little when I got too giddy about it. He called me a fag, but in a playful manner. My lips pursed and I ignored the comment.
Sometimes I want to tell him my secret. But I wonder how he will react. I assume he would stop being my friend. And that is not something I am willing to part with. For now, the secret remains.
Lincoln High School. The school I have attended for the past three years. I am now a senior and am counting the days until graduation. 158 including today.
The school day could not be dragging any slower than today. Five more classes to go, I thought as I roamed the hall to my English class. English was my worst subject, not because I was bad at the lessons, but because Andrew sat across from me and I could not pay attention to what the teacher talked about.
His eyes and smile. His hair. His mouth, cheeks and chin. He was my vision of perfection and it was hard not to stare.
I first met Andrew in the fourth grade. I already knew I liked boys back then. He moved to town from Texas. The southern draw of his accent made me like him even more. We became instant friends and I hung out with him often throughout the years. On my 13th birthday, we got drunk. Really drunk. Too drunk, in fact, that I kissed him. He was my first kiss. Our lips intertwined for minutes. He pushed me off and I soon apologized. We laughed about it for weeks.
However, the kiss never left my mind. I think about almost every night as I lay in bed. I imagine what life would be like if we could hold hands at school, walk around as a couple, cuddle in bed at night and whisper sweet things. I know the images would never happen. He had a girlfriend, I had a girlfriend, and I was completely gay while he was straight.
Andrew loves women. Since freshman year of high school, he has had over ten girlfriends that I know of. His newest girl, Tanya, is an awesome chick. She plays bass for a local band, has a tattoo on her wrist, and has purple hair. As much as I like Tanya, I am still jealous of her hands being on Andrew's body at night.
Now, I know some of you might be confused as to why I have a girlfriend if I am not attracted to women. Well, Melanie is my best friend. She knows that I am gay and, in fact, is the only person in the world that knows that secret. Besides my mother. Melanie offered to pose as my girlfriend by constantly holding my hands and pecking my cheek before class. Rumors have started that we have had sex, but I don't know who began that.
Melanie met me by the classroom door. "Morning, babe," she stated and we both leaned in for a kiss. Her lips were always covered in lipstick, sometimes leaving an outline on my cheek.
We took our assigned seats. My eyes immediately met Andrew's. I waved and he smiled sideways. The crooked smile made my member twitch. I shuffled in my seat while pretending to pay attention to what Mrs. Penny said throughout the hour.
Lincoln High School is filled with different clicks. The metal heads, most are stoners, sit near the doors of the cafeteria. They are the last ones in, first ones out. They don't like being closed in without an exit in near proximity. Chris Montgomery is in that group. He was my friend until 6th grade. Then he started listening to heavy music and growing his hair long.
The goths, or "loners", always sit in the middle. They are an odd group of 6 people. They keep their heads down low and only whisper among each other. I have not spoken to any of them mainly because they seem....intimidating.
The jocks consist of a lot of people I know. A group of basketball players among some football and baseball guys. The cheerleaders cling to the group like flies to honey.
The remaining people, myself included, hang out in small groups of their own. Friends with no real 'click' name. My small group contains Andrew, Melanie, Frankie (an exchange student from Africa with killer dreads), Tyler (my friend since kindergarten. Once, he blew up a mailbox with a bottle rocket. He can be crazy at first, but his heart is pure gold.), and Tanya.
The six of us sit at the same table every day at lunch period. Our conversations can be outrageous at times. Once, someone brought us tigers. We had an hour long debate about tigers being caged at zoos. Another time, we talked about the Korean war. For three days in a row. I love my friends. We are a crazy family.
The only one of my "crew" I actually see outside of school is Andrew. He lives three doors down from my house. We walk to and from school together. We hang out at each other's houses all the time. This weekend Andrew is throwing a party while his parents are out of town. He asked me to help him decorate and set up. I was thrilled to put my party planning skills at work. I surprised him a little when I got too giddy about it. He called me a fag, but in a playful manner. My lips pursed and I ignored the comment.
Sometimes I want to tell him my secret. But I wonder how he will react. I assume he would stop being my friend. And that is not something I am willing to part with. For now, the secret remains.