Date: Tue, 2 Aug 2005 22:26:20 -0400
From: jaden.scott@adelphia.net
Subject: Lover's Lane Chapter 05

This story is a work of fiction.  It depicts a romance between two
consenting adult males and may contain some descriptions of sexual acts,
again between two consenting adult males.  If you are not of legal age to
read this kind of story, please leave now.  If you reside in an area where
reading stories that include sexual situations between two consenting adult
males is illegal, please leave now.  This story is for entertainment
purposes only.  Any similarity to any person(s) living or dead is simply a
coincidence.  The author retains all rights to this story.  It cannot be
reproduced in any form without expressed written permission from the author
(me).  Please contact the author for any requests.  Copyright 2005.

**I HAVE A NEW E-MAIL ADDRESS**

Feedback (and criticism) is ALWAYS appreciated and welcome.  Please respond
to this story at: jaden.scott@adelphia.net I look forward to hearing from
all of you and I will respond if you write to me.  Thanks to all of you who
have written so far with your encouraging words.  I have appreciated every
one of them.

If you have tried writing me (at my old address) since Friday, July 29th, I
most likely didn't get your e-mail.  Please re-send your e-mail to my new
address.  Thanks, Jaden.


LOVER'S LANE

by Jaden

>From the end of Chapter Four:

(JADEN'S POINT OF VIEW)

Once he was out of sight, I groaned aloud and started rubbing my forehead
with my hand. What have I gotten myself into here??  I've been in almost
constant turmoil since I met this guy.  Maybe I should just walk away.  I'm
not sure if I can handle this.  I'm not sure if I'm ready for this.

I looked to my left and saw the path leading to my apartment and safety.  I
looked to my right and saw the table I told Lane that George and I would be
waiting at.  What should I do??  What SHOULD I do??

I thought about it for a moment and made up my mind.  I started walking
toward.........

CHAPTER FIVE: MEET LANE MCNEIL

**PLEASE BE AWARE THAT THE NEXT CHAPTER IS GOING TO BE TOLD FROM LANE'S
POINT OF VIEW.  I WILL CLEARLY INDICATE WHEN WE SWITCH BACK TO JADEN'S
POINT OF VIEW**

It was the second day of my senior year of college and I was feeling proud
of myself.  Over the summer, I had decided that I would finally talk to HIM
this year.  I worked up my courage and, this morning, I accomplished my
goal.  I was excited--it felt like I was on an adrenaline rush.

I remember everything about the first day I saw HIM.  It was during the
middle of my junior year in college.  The exact day and date was Monday,
February 6, 2004.  Up until that date, I had always gone to the student gym
after classes were done for the day--usually in the early evening.  But,
for the first time since I had started college, I had an evening class that
semester.  The class was Art History 101--a basic level class I decided to
take to fulfill part of the arts requirement for my major.

My art history class met on Tuesday and Thursday nights from 7PM to 9PM.  I
normally worked out on Tuesdays and Thursdays-- in fact, I worked out
everyday of the week except for Sunday.  Winter semester had begun in early
January and for those first 4 weeks, I skipped my Tuesday and Thursday
sessions.  However, I didn't feel good about myself when I had to skip
those workouts.  I made the decision to get my ass out of bed earlier each
morning and workout at that time.  I was able to go back to my 6-day-a-week
program and I was much happier with myself.

I didn't have much discipline when it came to working out while I was in
High School and during my first year of college.  I was your normal,
typical teenager.  I grew up in Delaware, Massachusetts (slogan--"The town
so impressive it had to be named after a state").  We were located just
about 30 miles outside of Boston.  I had always played sports when I was in
High School.  I played football (mostly safety but some wide receiver too),
basketball (point guard), and track (I ran the 110m hurdles and competed in
the high jump).  I made varsity in all three sports by my sophomore year.
My second favorite memory of high school is actually three separate
memories that all had something in common.  We beat our hated rival--the
Hudson Valley Tigers--for the league championship in all three sports I
participated in.  That was sooo cool.

Participating year round in those three sports kept my body in good
physical shape.  I never had a set workout program that I followed
religiously.  The exercise I got depended on each coach that I had--more
weights during the football season, more running during the basketball and
track seasons.

While I was a good athlete, I wasn't in the top 1% in any of the three
sports I participated in.  I knew early on that I wasn't going to be able
to get an athletic scholarship to go to college.  So, I concentrated on my
studies too.  Like most high schools, mine had all of the various "groups"
that each student got labeled into.  We had the jocks, the brains, the
nerds, the goths, the stoners, the total losers, etc.  I was a frustrating
case for whoever the mysterious person it was that decided which group each
person would belong to. I was a good athlete--obviously a characteristic of
"the jocks".  But I was the smartest kid in my class--obviously a
characteristic of "the brains".  To top it all off, I really enjoyed math
and science--a definite characteristic of "the nerds".  Because of my
varying interests, I flowed (quite easily) between each of the three
groups.  Some of the really stuck-up girls would not date me simply because
I had an association to "the nerds". "Teenagers" as a whole are definitely
the most shallow people on this planet.

I made it through high school and was the class valedictorian (my number
one favorite high school memory). I was sooo excited about that (my parents
were too--in fact I wasn't sure who was more excited).  It didn't bother me
that I had to give a speech in front of my graduating class.  Nobody would
ever call me "shy".  I applied and was accepted into an Ivy League college
about two hours away from my house.  Thankfully, due to my outstanding
grades and extracirricular activities, I was awarded an acedemic
scholarship that covered all but 15% of the total costs of college.  My dad
actually cried--CRIED!!--when we got the news (I shed a few tears too--just
in the privacy of my own room).

Freshman year in college was exciting.  I was on my own, making all of my
own decisions.  I was placed in a great dorm.  My roommate and I declared
each other best friends for life after talking for something like 10
minutes (we're still best friends and still living together in our senior
year).  You tend to meet a variety of people when living in a dorm with 100
other guys.  My experience in high school (belonging to three diverse
groups) definitely helped me in understanding, accepting, and making
friends with the guys that were different from me.  College was tons of
fun.

The biggest change for me was not being involved in sports on a daily
basis.  The campus had some sports programs for students not on an athletic
scholarship.  I participated in a three-on-three basketball tournament.  I
played some golf when the weather permitted.  The most fun I had was
playing a game called "Broom-ball".  "Broom-ball" was played on an ice
hockey rink.  Players could only wear tennis shoes--no ice skates.  Each
player was given a broom--the object of the game was similar to ice hockey,
with the exception that "Broom-ball" was played with a ball instead of a
puck.  I joined a team made up of some guys from my dorm.  Most of your
time in the game was spent falling on your ass--it was hilarious.

Because I wasn't involved in any daily sports activity, and because I
didn't have a normal workout schedule, I packed on about 20 lbs of fat by
the end of my freshman year.  There's a big difference in how your body
looks when you are 6'2", 180 lbs and fit from playing sports, compared to
6'2", 200 lbs--with 20 lbs being fat.  I had succumbed to the curse that
every freshman dreads--the curse of the "Freshman Fifteen" (although in my
case it was the "Freshman Twenty").

When I came home for the summer after my freshman year, my parents, my
brother, and my sister took no pity on me and constantly gave me grief for
the weight I had gained.  That was our family dynamic--none of us ever held
back.  Polite society might call us jokesters--we preferred to call each
other smart-asses.  In order to survive in my family, you had to give as
good as you got or you would be steamrolled.  I wasn't shocked at my dad's
comments, and I expected my brother and sister to be vicious in their
attacks.  But my own mother--the one who usually pulled her punches,
especially with me (her BABY), really gave it to me.  I think her comments,
more than any of the others, is what inspired me to dedicate myself to
eating more healthy and starting a workout program.

So, on Monday, February 6, 2004, I got up at 7AM and ran the short distance
from my dorm to the student gym.  This was the first day I was doing my
workout in the morning.  It had snowed the night before--only about one
inch.  I remember looking up at the trees and thinking that the branches
looked so cool with a coating of snow on them.  As I approached the
entrance to the gym, I wondered how many people would be up this early
working out.  There was always about 50 people in the gym when I would go
there in the early evening.  After I entered the gym, I stopped for a
moment to look around.  There was only about 20 people in the entire place.
Boy--getting a machine was going to be so much easier, I thought to myself.
The only thing I had hated about going to the gym in the early evening was
the fact you had to wait sometimes to get a machine.  It's hard to keep
your heart rate up when you keep starting and stopping your workout.

Most of the equipment in the student gym was fairly new, but the actual gym
itself was located in an older building.  I'm pretty sure the room was
never meant to be a gym--there were no lockers, changing rooms, or showers
for us to use.  You had to come prepared to start your workout when you
arrived and you had to take your shower back at your dorm or apartment when
you were finished.  On the far right wall was a large shelving unit where
you could store your bag, if you had one.  A student was on duty at all
times to keep a watch over everyone's belongings and to verify your
ID---you had to be a student at the university to use the student gym.

The student on duty checked my ID.  I opened my bag and took out a bottle
of water, my portable CD player, and my headphones.  After closing my bag,
I stored it and my jacket on one of the shelves.  I walked over to an open
area at the other end of the gym and started stretching.  After I had just
started, I heard a loud bang--the noise caused me to stop stretching and
look around.  I couldn't locate the source of the noise, and since nobody
was screaming in pain, I decided to continue stretching.  Just as I went to
lower my head, something caught my eye.  I looked more directly and that is
when I saw HIM.  He was sitting on a bench doing concentration curls with
some free weights.  I don't believe in LOVE at first sight, but LUST at
first sight happens quite easily--and I started lusting after this guy the
second my brain had a chance to process the image I was seeing.

I looked him over from head to toe.  He had short blond hair.  He was
wearing a blue t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and high-top tennis shoes.  His
shoes were white with some type of blue and orange pattern on them.  The
way he was positioned, I couldn't see how big his bicep was when he curled
the weight up.  I could make out that he had a awesome body through his
clothing.  He didn't have huge muscles---he looked....just right.  Since he
was sitting down I couldn't tell exactly how tall he was, but I was
guessing 6'0" easy.

I was enthralled with this vision of beauty and I would have kept staring
at him all day--until I realized I had stopped breathing.  As I took in a
deep breath, I suddenly became self-conscious because I was just standing
there and staring.  I quickly looked around, but nobody was paying
attention to me.  Thank god for that.

Do I need to say it??  Can't you figure it out from what I just told you??
OK--FINE.  I'M GAY.  QUEER AS A THREE-DOLLAR BILL.  FRIENDS WITH LIZA,
JUDY, AND BARBRA.  Happy now??

The first time I connected the dots and figured out I was gay was when I
was 14 years old.  It was the toward the end of summer after my 8th grade
year--9th grade (which meant high school!!) would be starting in only one
week.  My best friend at the time was Jimmy Bridgestone.  He lived two
houses down from me and we had been best friends since the age of 3.  Jimmy
was over that day (he practically lived at my house anyway).  I was
starting to get stressed about starting high school.  My brother, who would
be starting his senior year, had been telling me nothing but horror stories
about high school for weeks.  Deep down, I knew he was just bullshitting
me, but, as the one week countdown started, I finally let his lies get to
me (thank god he never found out, or he would be humiliating me about it to
this day).  Jimmy suggested we go swimming at the local pool.  We hadn't
been there in almost 3 weeks because both our families had been on
vacation.  Not together--first my family went, then Jimmy's family had
gone.  Going to the pool was something Jimmy and I always did together, so
I hadn't been there while he was away.

We arrived at the pool-house about 1PM. After storing our towels and junk,
we ran out to the pool.  As I was running, I happened to look up at one of
the lifeguard stands.  Oh my god, I thought, who is THAT???  I stopped
running and came to a stand-still right at the edge of the pool as I
continued looking at the lifeguard.

I thought to myself--he's new.  I pretty sure I haven't seen him around
here.  Before I could process any more information, I was suddenly falling
into the pool.  JIMMY PUSHED ME!!! was my first thought as I came back to
the surface of the water.  I looked to the side of the pool and, sure
enougth, Jimmy was standing there laughing his head off.  Before I had time
to tell him off, I heard a whistle.  I looked over at the lifeguard
stand--it was HIM!!.

"Hey kid.  No pushing or rough horseplay.  If I see you do it again, you're
out of here!!", the lifeguard yelled at Jimmy.

He was...beautiful, I thought.  He was only about 2 or 3 years older than
me.  WOW.  He wasn't really all that muscular-- in fact he was sort of
skinny.  There wasn't a single ounce of fat on his body that I could see.
He had a dark, golden brown tan--probably from all of the hours he spent
sitting in the sun.  He had this thick, curly black hair.  I was
mesmerized.

The water suddenly exploded around me.  JIMMY!!!  He had done a cannonball
and landed about 3 inches from me.  He came up from underwater laughing
again.  AAARRRGGGHH--I wanted to kill him at that moment.  What was wrong
with him??  Couldn't he see what I was seeing??  God hadn't made any
mistakes creating this wonderful specimen of manhood.

UUUUUMMMMMM...what am I doing??  What am I THINKING??  Do I think the
lifeguard is.........hot??  As in, do I want to run my tongue all over his
body??  All of these thoughts came tumbling into my mind.

I have to get out of here.  NOW!!  I need to leave RIGHT NOW!!!  I was
starting to panic.  I wanted to be home in my own bed.  Tears started to
leak out of my eyes (thank god I was soaked).  THINK, DAMMIT, THINK!!

"Lane, are you all right??  You look like you just saw a ghost or
something??", Jimmy asked.  He could tell something was wrong with
me. "Hey, I was just playing with you.  Are you pissed off that I pushed
you into the pool??

"NO!!!!" I shouted at him.  Ok...calm down.  "I'm just, um, not feeling
very good.  I think I'd better go home."

"You want to go home?? Are you sure everything is OK??", Jimmy asked me,
genuine concern in his voice.

That was the thing about Jimmy---he loved to horse around, but he could be
very serious if needed.  He really was a good friend--always willing to
give others anything they needed with no hesitation.

"Yeah, I'm just not feeling too good all of the sudden.  Maybe I shouldn't
have eaten that extra sandwich at lunch.", I lied to him.  First I thought
the lifeguard was hot, now I'm lying to my best friend.  Something is
seriously wrong with me!!

Jimmy didn't say another word. He just swam over to the side of the pool
and pulled himself out.  He was soooo trusting, almost to a fault.  He
reached his hand out to help me get out of the pool.  I swam over to him,
sneaking peaks at the lifeguard the whole time.  I don't think Jimmy
noticed me doing that.

We gathered our belongings and began the walk back home.  Jimmy was still
concerend about me.

"Listen, why don't you sit down over here??  I'll run home and have my mom
come back to pick you up in the car.", Jimmy suggested.

I didn't want this lie to get blown out of proportion, so I said to him,

"Thats OK, dude.  I think I can make it home on my own.  Its not that much
farther.  I appreciate you caring so much."  I really did appreciate his
concern (the sad part is Jimmy's family moved to Colorado a year later and,
despite all of our promises to remain best friends, we had lost touch by
the time we graduated high school).

We finally made it to my house.  I told Jimmy I was going to lie down.  He
told me to call if I needed anything, then he turned and walked over to his
house.

I actually did lay down on my bed as soon as I got to my bedroom.  At least
that's one less lie I told Jimmy, I thought.  It wasn't until I was safely
inside of my room that I began to reflect on what had happened at the pool.
I had found a guy---A GUY!!--attractive.  No, that's wrong--I thought he
was hot as shit.

What was going on with me??  I wasn't....I mean I'm not.....could it be
possible that I was, was.....????????????????????

I didn't want to even think the word, much less say it outloud.  I like
girls, don't I??  OF COURSE I DO!!  I mean, come on---I'm Lane McNeil--star
athlete.  Ladies man.  Chick magnet.  So I haven't had a girlfriend yet---I
certainly didn't want to tie myself down and limit my options??  Plus, I
was ONLY 14 years old.  There was plently of time for girlfriends and
relationships later on, right??  Besides. like my father and brother always
say--its more fun playing the field (at least they always say that when my
mom and sister aren't around).

OK--think Lane, THINK!!!  Who was the last girl you had a crush on??  Who
was the last girl you dreamed about kissing??  Who was the last girl that
gave you butterflies in your stomach everytime you saw her??  THINK!!!  I
know!!  What about Melissa Saunders--wasn't I just saying that she looked
sexy in that mini-skirt I saw her wearing at church yesterday??  I said
that, didn't I??  Oh, wait. SHIT!!  Jimmy was the one who made that
comment.  But I AGREED with him, I know I did.  Didn't she look sexy??  Why
can't I remember what she looked like??

C'mon....oh yeah.  Remember at the end of school last year--all the guys
were drooling over Heather Gordon??  Her boobs were huge--it seemed like
they just grew overnight.  I remember--we were all laughing, wondering if
she got a boob job done.  Didn't I picture her naked??  Wasn't I curious
what her boobs looked like??  Wasn't I anxious to touch them, to see what
they felt like??  COME ON!!  FUCK, FUCK, FUCK--I know I thought about it.
I know I did, didn't I??

An icy fear shot through me as I remembered that I didn't care about
Heather Gordon and her big boobs.  Until Jimmy said something to me, I
never would have given Melissa Saunders a second glance.  There has got to
be at least ONE GIRL--- one girl that I've fantasized about before.  I
mean--I'm jerking off on a daily basis (sometimes 2 or 3 times a day!)--
why can't I remember what I think about when I do that??  WHAT am I
thinking about??

OH, man.  FUCK ME.  Jimmy.  I think about Jimmy.  But, but...I think about
Jimmy doing it with some girl, don't I??  Some slutty, nasty, horny girl,
right??  You can do it Lane--who is the girl that you imagine Jimmy is
fucking in your fantasies??  Who is it??

I starting crying.  I cried and I cried and I cried.  Just when I thought I
was going to stop crying, fresh new tears started flowing out of my eyes.
Is it possible to have this many tears in your body??

It's not true.  I don't believe it.  I WON'T BELIEVE IT.  PLEASE GOD, LET
ME WAKE UP FROM THIS NIGHTMARE.  PLEASE, IF THERE IS A GOD, HELP ME!!!
PLEASE--HELP ME!!!  WHY ME!!  WHY ME????  AM I??  I AM, GOD HELP ME, I AM.
I'M..............GAY!!!!  GAY.  I'M GAY.  I'M GAY.  HOLY FUCKING SHIT, I'M
GAY!!!!!!!!! I'M A QUEER.  I'M A COCKSUCKER.  I'M AN ASS-LICKER. I'M GAY.
MY LIFE IS OFFICIALLY OVER.

The tears dried up.  There were no more tears left in my body.  I lay on my
bed and stared at the ceiling.  I couldn't move.  I wanted to die.  What is
the quickest way to go??  I definitely didn't want anything that would
hurt.  I just wanted to be dead.  Can I just will myself into death??  A
smile crept over my face as I suddenly thought--PILLS.  PILLS.
PILLS!!!!!!!  That's the ticket!!!  PILLS!!!  All I had to do was swallow a
hole bunch, then I would fall asleep.  Taking pills wouldn't hurt at
all!!!!!!  Ironically, I was saved!!  Now, where do I get the pills??  Is
aspirin strong enough??  I would probably have to take about 200 of those
things to do any damage.  What about mom or dad??  Have either one of them
been sick lately??  Do either of them use pills to help them sleep??  I
couldn't remember.  Come on Lane--- there has got to a way.  THINK!!

SARAH.  Sarah, my sister, had pills. She had PAIN pills.  Just the other
day she was bragging about how FEW pain pills she had taken after her
recent knew surgery.  She had almost a WHOLE BOTTLE of them left.
Now--where would my sneaky sister keep those damn things??  They had to be
in her bedroom.  I had not seen them anywhere in the bathroom that she,
Connor (my brother), and I shared.  They had to be in her
bedroom. OK--today is Monday.  It's 3PM--what was Sarah doing today??
Physical therapy on her knee.  What time did she say her appointment was
at???  Man--why don't I ever listen to her when she talks??  Well, in my
defense, most of what comes out of her big mouth is shit, so why would I
listen to her??  I know I heard her say the time---was it 2PM???  2PM--that
time does sound familiar, doesn't it??  Think.  Yesterday, after we got
home from church, we, we.....had dinner, right??  Right--I remember now.
Mom made pork chops, one of my favorites.  And then Sarah said......what
did she say???  She asked if mom could take her to her physical therapy
appointment.  And her appointment time was at 2PM.  Yep, her appointment
was at 2PM.  If Sarah's physical therapy only took one hour, that means I
have 1/2 hour before she and mom gets home.

What about Connor??  Where is he at today??  Probably at his girlfriends
house, like always.  I had accidentally come across a enormous amount of
condoms that he had bought and hid in his room (hey--I wasn't snooping.  I
was legitimately looking for something.  I swear!!).  Well, it looks like
we know what Connor is doing, or should I say we know WHO Connor is doing.
He won't be home anytime soon.  I know that dad is at work, so I'm all
alone for at least 30 minutes.

I slowly got up from my bed and walked over to the door.  I carefully
opened it.

"Mom??  Sarah??  Connor??  Helloooooo---is anybody home??", I called out
loudly into the hallway.

I held my breathe and waited for 10 seconds.  No response.  I called out to
all 3 of them again and waited.  Still no response. I slowly walked down
the hallway toward my sister's room.  The door to her rooom was opened. I
looked inside--the room was empty.

I looked around to see if anyone was watching me, then I walked into
Sarah's room.  I was nervous.  OK--think like Sarah.  If I were Sarah,
where would I put a bottle of pain pills??  I checked the two drawers in
the nightstand next to her bed.  Nothing.  How about under the bed??
Strike two.  I carefully looked around the room.  The dresser??  How about
her underwear drawer??  I knew I was onto something.  I had to open 3
drawers before I found the one that contained her underwear.  I tried to be
careful as I looked around the drawer.  BINGO!!  I found them. I pulled the
bottle out of the drawer.  Wow--it seemed huge.  I shook the bottle--it
sounds like there are a bunch of pills in there.  I read the directions on
the label.  It said to take a pill as needed, but to not exceed 4 pills in
a 24-hour period.  There were considerably more than 4 pills left in the
bottle.  I figured I had enough to do the job.

I walked downstairs, filled a glass with water in the kitchen, then
returned to my bedroom.  I placed the glass of water and the bottle of
pills on my desk.  I sat down on my bed and stared at them.  Ok--should I
just start right now??  An image of my mother and father flashed in my
mind.  Should I leave a note to explain why I was doing this??  I wasn't
sure what to do.  On the one hand I hated thinking that they wouldn't know
why I had to do this.  On the other hand, I wanted them to remember me as I
was--I didn't want them to find out about the gay issue and then be glad I
was dead.  Well, I guess I could write a note and make up a lie as to why I
was killing myself.  That actually sounded like a good idea.  Ok--now why
would a seemingly normal teenage boy want to kill himself??  What would
sound plausible to my parents, siblings, and friends??

I could say I was suffering from depression.  Nah--I don't think they would
buy that.  We had just recently returned from vacation and I know I was
either smiling or laughing the entire time.  How about drugs??  I could say
I was addicted to cocaine or heroin and I didn't know how to handle the
problem anymore.  No--that story had holes in it to.  My parents would want
to know where I got the money to buy the drugs.  Plus, I had seen enough
medical crap on TV to know that they would test my blood for drugs and look
for needle holes.  I would be found out and then my parents would know I
was lying in my note.  I didn't want my parents to know I was lying to
them.  How about child abuse??  I could claim that someone had abused me
for a number of years and I never told anyone.  Then I could claim the pain
and guilt had overwhelmed me and I had to commit suicide to stop the pain.
The beauty of that excuse was that nobody would be able to confirm or deny
my story, so they would most likely accept it as the truth.  But, my stupid
morals kicked in--I hated using child abuse as an excuse.  There were real
kids out there dealing with the effets of real child abuse.  I hated to use
their pain for my own selfish goals--it would cheapen the feelings that
they dealt with.

I was drawing a blank.  What could I possibly give as an excuse that would
make sense and not be discovered as a lie??  How about gangs?? I could say
I was forced to join a gang and they made me perform horrible acts of
violence.  Again-- too many holes in that scenerio.  I was around Jimmy
almost 24 hours a day.  When would I have had the opportunity to even meet
a gang member??

Man, this was frustrating.  Maybe I just shouldn't leave a note.  I didn't
love that idea, but it seemed to be the only option I had.  I guess I
could....

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH MY BOTTLE OF PAIN PILLS IN YOUR ROOM??",
my sister screamed at me from the doorway.

I shot off my bed and fell on the floor in a sitting position.  She scared
the living shit out of me.  I slowly looked up at my sister---the look on
her face was scary.  She was seriously pissed off at me.

I looked over at the bottle of pills.  OH MY GOD--SHE'S RIGHT.  WHAT THE
HELL WAS I DOING WITH THOSE PILLS??

All of the sudden, I started crying again.  I not talking about a few tears
and a couple of sniffles.  I was sobbing-- almost hysterically.  I started
yelling for my mother--although I was saying "MOMMY, MOMMY."  I think I
stopped calling her mommy when I was 6 years old.

My sister and I love each other and today we have a awesome relationship.
But back then, I didn't give her enough credit for knowing when I was being
a baby and when I was seriously upset.  But she understood at that moment
that I was not faking anything.

"MOM, MOOOOOM, WE NEED YOU UP HERE RIGHT NOW!!!!!", my sister screamed at
the top of her lungs.

Apparently my concept of time wasn't working because, as I remember it, as
soon as my sister stop screaming for my mother, I was in her arms.  I
sobbed, and I sobbed, and I sobbed---for almost an hour straight.  I was
clutching at her so hard.  I felt that if I let go, I would fall into a
bottemless abyss.  I can remember hearing my mom whispering softly to me,
telling me that she was there and everything was going to be alright.  She
must have said that two thousand times to me.  At some point I became aware
that Sarah was sitting on the other side of me and rubbing my back.  My
sister had never touched me so gently before.

Slowly I was able to stop crying.  I was still sitting on the floor, mom on
one side, Sarah on the other.  I started to feel such contentment that I
began to fall asleep.  My mother must have noticed and the next thing I was
aware of was her coaxing me to stand up.  She guided me over to my bed and
had me lay down on it.  She grabbed a blanket that was folded on the end of
my bed and covered me up.  I was asleep almost instantaneously.

When I opened my eyes, it was getting dark outside--or so I thought.  I
struggled to sit upright.  What happened to me??  Before I could even think
anymore about what had happened, I realized that my bladder was about to
burst.  I quickly ran over to the bathroom and took care of the problem.
After I had washed my hands, I returned to my bedroom.  I realized I was
still wearing my bathing suit.  Did I come home from swimming and fall
asleep on my bed??

Suddenly it came all rushing back to me: Jimmy, the pool, the lifeguard,
realizing I was gay, wanting to commit suicide, the pain pills, Sarah, and
my mother.  I sat down hard on my bed and put my head in my hands.  Oh man,
what happened to me??  What was I going to do??  Was I really planning on
committing suicide??

I almost--almost--felt like it was all a dream, or some plot of a intense
movie I had seen.  Suicide??  I remembered.  I had wanted to die.  Oh my
god--and I'm gay too.  The smell of coffee brewing caught my attention.
Wait--my parents only drink coffee in the morning.  What was going on?  I
looked over at the clock radio beside my bed--it wasn't 7PM, it was 7AM!!!

I suddenly felt dirty.  I still could smell the chlorine on my body from
being in the pool yesterday. I need a shower so I quickly took one.  I came
back to my room and put on an old t-shirt and shorts.  I felt more
refreshed--and I was thristy and hungry.  The only way to satisfy those
cravings was to go downstairs.  I knew my mom and dad were down there.  I
know they heard me take a shower, so they know I'm awake.  OK--time to face
the music.  I took a couple of deep breaths and headed downstairs.

When I entered the kitchen I saw my mother and father sitting at the table.
I was suprised to see Sarah and Connor sitting there too.  And--nobody was
talking.  OK, this is going to be worse than I could have possibly
imagined.

I grabbed a bottle of apple juice out of the refrigerator and a glass from
the cabinet.  I walked over to the table and sat down in my usual seat.  I
poured myself a glass of juice and drank it down in one gulp.  I looked
around at my family--wasn't somebody going to say something???

My mother's arm moved suddenly and I actually flinched.  She had never hit
me before but I wasn't too sure she wouldn't start right now.  She reached
her arm toward the middle of the table and set the bottle of pain pills
down.

All 5 of us sat there staring at them for at least one minute.

Then, my mother began speaking (I was terrified and excited at what she was
going to say),

"Lane, look around this table.  I am your mother.  This is your father.
There are your sister and your brother.  Lane--this is a family.  Your
family.  Our family.  Your father and I have tried to teach each of our
kids lessons that will help them to grow and become successful adults.
That is a parent's job--actually, that is their responsibility.  And we
have done our best to teach those lessons.  But the one thing that we have
wanted you to learn more than anything else, the one thing we wanted you to
know in the bottom of your heart, the one thing we never wanted you to
doubt is our love for you.  Not just love, but unconditional love.  After
the events of yesterday, the only conclusion that your dad and I can come
up with is that we failed--we failed to teach you that love, we failed to
make sure it was instilled in your heart."

My mother stopped talking.  I looked over at Sarah and Connor--they both
had tears in their eyes.

My father started speaking next.  He said,

"Lane--your mother spoke of unconditional love.  Do you truly understand
what that means?  It means that nothing you can say or do will make us stop
loving you or love you less.  As disappointed as we all are right now after
what happened yesterday, we still love you just as much as we ever
did. That will not change.  It cannot change. We need to make sure that you
understand that.  We need to make sure that you accept that completely.
Alot of bad things can happen to you in this world.  You could die in an
car accident.  You could become sick with a deadly disease.  You could be
in the wrong place at the wrong time and lose your life.  We--all of us at
this table--are not going to let you throw your life away because you have
a problem.  Fine--you have a problem.  We will discuss it as a family and
we will figure out a solution.  Together.  We will not sit idly by and let
you self-destruct.  End of story. It will not happen.  Do you understand??"

I had been looking at my father the whole time he spoke. I nodded my head.
I thought I would be expected to speak next, but I was suprised when Sarah
started speaking.

"Lane, on most days, I give you a hard time.  I am nine years older than
you and that has caused some distance between us.  But you need to
remember--I am your sister and I love you.  We are family--that is a bond
that cannot be broken.  It is impossible.  As you grow up and become a
young man, the age difference between us will mean less and less and you
and I will become more equal than we are now.  But, I will always be your
big sister.  I will always be there for you.  You need to remember that."

Connor cleared his throat and started speaking next.

"Well, I guess it is my turn to say something.  We are much closer in age,
Lane, but when you are a teenager, the difference between 17 and 14 can be
huge.  You are my little brother.  I remember when you came home from the
hospital with mom and dad.  I was only 3 at the time, but it is one of the
most vivid memories that I have.  I've never told you this story, but the
day you came home, Dad sat me down on the couch and he sat next to me while
holding you in his arms. He said 'Connor, this is your little brother.  His
name is Lane.  See how small he is.  For the next 18 years, he is always
going to be smaller that you. And that means you have a job to do.  You
must always watch out for your little brother.  You must try and make sure
that he is kept safe.  That is your job--do you think you can handle that?'
Even though I was young, I understood exactly what dad was saying.  I've
tried to watch out for you and keep you safe.  And along the way I learned
something--I need to have all of the information if I'm going to do my job
correctly.  That means you need to be honest with me at all times.  The
same is true for Sarah and mom and dad.  We need you to tell us the truth
about what you are feeling.  Like mom said, the love we feel for each other
is unconditional.  That means we will not only love you but accept you no
matter what.  Please remember that."

I was in a state of shock---I had never heard my brother and sister express
themselves like that.  I was overwhelmed with emotion.

"OK, Lane, we need you to tell us what happened yesterday.  I know it's
going to be difficult, but you have to tell us.  Nobody is leaving this
room or this table until we have discussed this problem and everyone feels
comfortable with the resolution." my Dad said to me.

I felt so scared at that moment.  I know that I had just heard each of my
family members tell me that they loved me unconditionally.  Despite those
sentiments, I was still paranoid about how each of them would react to what
I had to say.

"Um....Um....I....I...........," I was trying to speak but I felt like I
couldn't tell them.  Please let me wake up from this nightmare!!!

"HOney," my mom said, "it's going to be OK.  Nothing bad is going to happen
to you.  You have to trust us--all of us."

"I'm so scared.", finally came tumbling out of my mouth.  I sounded like
such a little boy at that moment.  "I don't want any of you to hate me!"

"We are NOT going to hate you, I promise.  You have to let us know what the
problem is so we can help you.", my mother said to me.

I let my mother's words digest for a few seconds, then I slowly looked
around the table at my father and siblings.  They were all staring at me,
patiently waiting for me to fill them in.  I realized in that moment that
none of my family memebers were looking at me with anger or disgust in
their faces.  They looked genuinely concerned.

"I...Something happened at the pool yesterday.", I began, "I saw something
that freaked me out."

Nobody said anything.  This is soooo hard.  I exhaled and said,

"After seeing the thing that freaked me out, Jimmy and I left the pool and
came back home.  I told Jimmy I wasn't feeling well so he left and I went
to my bedroom.  I started thinking about this "thing" that had scared
me--and suddenly I realized something that I never knew before.  I realized
that.....that....that I'm....."

I could NOT say the word.  I could'nt do it.  I knew I had to, but my mouth
was not cooperating.

"Just say it, Lane.  It's OK.  We all love and support you.  But---YOU have
to say it.", my mother said to me.

Tears started falling down my face.  I had never cried in front of my
father or brother before.  I felt like this situation was turning from bad
to worse.

"I realized that I'm......gay." I whispered the last word.  I put my head
down.  I wasn't going to look anyone in the eyes.  I felt my cheecks
starting to burn.  "I'm gay.", I said in a louder voice.

I felt my mother put her arms around me.  I turned and buried my head in
her neck.  I started crying again. Just like yesterday, I couldn't stop.

Finally, after about 5 minutes, I started to calm down.  I leaned back from
my mom and hung my head very low.  I saw a wad of tissues being thrust at
me out of the corner of my eye.  I looked up---it was Sarah, and ....and
she didn't look angry.  I felt a little bit more courageous and shifted my
eyes to Connor---he looked the same as Sarah.  I finally felt brave enough
to glance at my dad.  He was staring at me with a neutral expression on his
face.

"Are you sure?", my dad finally asked me.

I met my dad's stare with my own eyes.  I replied,

"Yes, I am."

"And that's why you tried to commit suicide yesterday?", my mom asked me.

"Yes.  I know--it was a stupid thing to even think about doing.  I realized
that when I woke up this morning.  But yesterday---I guess I was in shock.
I couldn't believe the thoughts and emotions I was having for
another.....dude.  I was terrified--terrified of my feelings, terrified
about what your reactions were going to be, terrified of what other people
were going to think.  I convinced myself that everyone was better off if I
wasn't around anymore.", I responded to her.

"So you decided that killing yourself was your only option??", my sister
asked me, a slight tone of sarcasm in her voice.

"At the time I wasn't thinking too clearly.  I know that committing suicide
is a horrible thing to even contemplate, but I wasn't rational yesterday.",
I replied.  Everyone was quiet again.

"So, are you are telling us now that you know that suicide is wrong??
Because, Lane, I need to be 100% sure you aren't going to try something
like that again.", my mother asked me.

Before I could respond, my dad interrupted us by saying,

"OK, OK--let's all settle down.  Lane, I need to say something to you.  I
will freely admit that I do not know much about homosexuality and I doubt
your mother does either."  My dad paused to look at my mom, who was shaking
her head.  He continued,

"I don't like the idea of you being gay.  AND--BEFORE YOU REACT, let me
explain why.  Living your life as a gay man is not the easiest thing to do
in this world.  Sure, more and more people are accepting homosexuals, but
there are still some psychos out there who might hurt you.  Plus--there are
diseases that you could catch, some of them deadly.  I'm not saying you
aren't going to practice safe sex--you're a smart kid--but protection isn't
always 100% effective.  The selfish part of me wants to see you as happy as
you can possibly be and it saddens me that you might face discrimination
and prejudice just because of who you love."

"Now--does anyone at this table have any issues with Lane?  Is everyone
comfortable with the fact that Lane is gay?", my dad said to the rest of
the table.  My dad doesn't pull his punches---he believes in asking direct
questions and getting direct answers.

"I have absolutely no problem with Lane, other than the fact he's a pain in
my ass!!!", Sarah said, a smile forming on her face.

"I don't have a problem either.", Connor replied, "However, I'm going to
have a hard time coming up with an explanation that will satisfy my buddies
when they see Lane in his dress and high heels at school next week!!"  The
bastard managed to keep a straight face the whole time he was talking!!

"Assholes.", I muttered.

"WHAT WAS THAT?  LANE PHILLIP MCNEIL, YOU WATCH YOUR TONGUE!!", my mother
yelled at me.

Secretly I was thrilled--if Sarah and Connor were dishing out the pain
again, that must mean they still accept me.  I felt so relieved.  In terms
of what my father said to me, I completely understood what he was trying to
say.  He didn't want me to face any hardships in life.  He wanted me to
have the best life possible.

"Alright, enough,", my dad commanded, "but we are not finished.  Lane--you
tried to commit SUICIDE yesterday.  I understand that you were upset over
discovering your sexuality, but that doesn't excuse your behavior.  As I
see it, there are two major issues here.  The first issue is the fact that
you wanted to kill yourself, I don't care what the reasons are.  The second
issue is your sexuality.  It is obvious based on what happened yesterday
and what you have said here today that you are not comfortable with
yourself.  I think that we need to send you to some counseling.  You need
to speak to a professional about your feelings and get the help that you
need.  Neither your mother or I are qualified to provide that for you.

I nodded my head in agreement.  I understood that my dad was correct.  I
would have to make the best out of the situation.  Who knows--maybe I'll
get a hunky therapist.  If that were the case, I'm pretty sure that
counseling would be my number one top priority!! :)

Does anyone have anything else they would like to add??  And I mean
something CONSTRUCTIVE!!.", my dad said the last part loudly, once he
started to see Sarah open her big mouth.

"I would just like to apologize once again.  I'm sorry if I scared anyone
yesterday.  I appreciate everything each one of you has said to me.  I
don't know how I could be so stupid..........keep your mouth SHUT Connor!!"
I said sincerely.  I even said that last part to Connor sincerely---I was
sincerely telling him to shut the hell up!!

After we got up from the table my mother and father both hugged
me--tightly.  My father whispered in my ear, "Don't scare me like that
again, Lane.  I mean it!"

After my dad let me go, Sarah suddenly put her arm around me.

"So, Laneeeeeee," she said with evil intentions, "do you have a crush on
anyone??  Let me guess!!!  How about......  Kevin Brown??  NO??  Then what
about Shane Carter??  He's a hottie!!

I wasn't about to participate in her fishing expedition--that would only
add fuel to her fire.  The whole time she was talking I simply glared at
her.

OH. MY. GOD.", Sarah said as realization dawned in her feeble mind, "It
isn't Jimmy Bridgestone, is it??  Please, Lane, not Jimmy!!!"

My face had gone white at hearing Jimmy's name mentioned--and, of course,
my sister noticed.

"EEEEWWWWWWWW---it IS Jimmy!!  Gross!!!  I mean, isn't that like incest or
something??", she said sarcastically.  'NO!!! IT'S NOT JIMMY!!", I screamed
at her.  Of course, my fierce denial only re-inforced my sister's thoughts.
"So, will his name be Jimmy McNeil or will your name be Lane Bridgestone
after the wedding??  By the way, Which one is the GIRL in your
relationship??", my sister said, continuing to taunt me.

"Will you go away??  I told you---there is no relationship!!!", I
practically screamed at her.  I turned and left the kitchen.  As I was
going upstairs to my bedroom, I could here Sarah singing, 'Lane and Jimmy
sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.  First comes loves, next comes marriage,
here comes Lane pushing a baby carriage!!  HA, HA, HA, HA'.

My coming out was a roller coaster of emotions.  I nearly committed
suicide; instead I lived.  I ended up gaining a newfound love and
appreciation for my whole family while learning what unconditional love
truly meant.  Per our agreement, I started attending therapy sessions--I
was lucky to get a great counselor.

TO BE CONTINUED

Sorry that this chapter is ending so abruptly.  There is still alot more to
Lane's background.  I decided to split his story into two chapters.

Author's note: Did you notice that Lane's high school rival was the Hudson
Valley Tigers???  HMMMMMM---don't we know somebody who is from Hudson
Valley??  Did you catch that little tidbit??

CORRECTION: In Chapter 1, I named Jaden's hometown 'Hudson'.  My
mistake---it is actually 'Hudson Valley'.

Be on the lookout for chapter 6 soon.

FEEDBACK, FEEDBACK, FEEDBACK---this is lifeblood for us writers, so please
drop me a quick line.  Remember, I have a new e-mail address.  Use:
jaden.scott@adelphia.net Thanks, Jaden.