Date: Mon, 24 Aug 2009 22:41:05 -0700 (PDT)
From: ghostofoldtrafford@yahoo.com
Subject: The Road To Acceptance Chapter III

NOTE: This is a true story. MY story. It's a story about love, sex,
friendship and hatred. It's about being gay. If you find it offensive or
disagree with the actions depicted within...well, why are you on Nifty?

Names have been altered for privacy purposes.

For criticism, insults and, why not, appreciation, you can contact me at
ghostofoldtrafford@yahoo.com

I hope you enjoy.


THE ROAD TO ACCEPTANCE

Chapter III


"You sure you're okay?" the Principal asked.

"Oh, he's fine. Just got the wind knocked out of him." High-school
librarian by day, doctor by night.

"Yes, I'm quite fine, sir."

"Good. Now you mind telling me why you two got into a fight? And why you
weren't in my English class?" Did I mention that my English teacher was
also the Principal?

"Nothing serious. Just...stupid teenager stuff. You know how dumb kids are
at that age." I said. He gave me a level look, then shook his head in
amusement.

"Well, both you and Mr. A. will be suspended for 2 days starting
tomorrow. And you're in deep shit with me on a personal level. You know how
much I detest it when students skip my classes. Now go find your lunatic
classmate and sort yourselves out. You know I have no tolerance for
troublemakers." I gulped, bowed my head and left the library. Fuck!
Suspended? I may not have been a model student, but I had never even gotten
a failing grade in my life, let alone any disciplinary measures. My mom's
gonna kick my ass! Unless I neglect to mention it...Not like she ever paid
any particular attention to my school work. As long as I maintained decent
enough grades, she'd leave me to my own devices. Of course, what I forgot
was that she was friends with half the teaching staff. It wasn't a half
hour before she called me on my cell phone. It went about as well as you
expected. No dessert for me, then...I didn't even stick around for the rest
of that day's classes. Might as well get an early start on that suspension.

The two days went by quickly. I kept my head down and acted like a good,
repenting son around the house, no TV, no Internet, no cell phone, no
outside contact. I was terrified of what A. might do in the meantime. What
awaited me at school was the stuff of nightmares...And so, back to school,
much sooner than I was ready for it. I took a deep breath and stepped
through the doors, fully expecting the rotten tomatoes to start flying. I
can't really remember, but I'm pretty sure I had my eyes closed as I got
in. I stopped in the hall and, after half a minute went by and I was still
not covered in tar and feathers, I breathed a sigh of relief and walked to
class. As I went, I noticed some people whispering and nodding towards me,
but I expected it had more to do with the so-called fight and subsequent
suspension than anything else, so I kept walking.

When I got to class, I was greeted by silence. A few people said hi, but
most were quiet. Did I ever mention that A. was worshipped like a God?
Hmmm...Guess the story must've suffered some changes in the re-telling. Did
these people blame me for getting him suspended? Did they think I hit him
or something? Well, I suppose that's better than them knowing the true
reason. I just sighed and made my way to the back of the class, where
A. and I shared a desk. He wasn't there yet. I slumped into my chair and
closed my eyes. A few seconds later, I opened them as noise greeted A.,
coming into the classroom. He kissed all the girls on their cheeks, then
started walking towards the back of the room. Halfway to our desk, he
stopped, looking at me. He made a disgusted sound and sat next to one of
the girls who had always fancied him. Not that I didn't expect it, but it
still hurt. I was hoping we could at least discuss this like normal
people. And by God, that's what I did. I wasn't ready to let our friendship
end like this. So, at lunch, I pulled him aside as he was walking outside
the classroom door. He tried to pull away, but I half-dragged him behind
me.

"We need to talk. I need to talk and you damn well better listen. Then you
can do whatever the fuck you want, but you owe me at least this much."

"Owe you? I don't owe you anything, fag!" Thankfully, we were already in an
empty corner of the hallway and no one heard him. I suppose this was the
best place for the talk, then.

"Does our friendship mean nothing to you?"

"Friendship? You're in love with me."

"Is that what you think, you dolt? Okay, I'll admit it. I've had a crush on
you since I first laid eyes on you. But I always knew nothing could ever
happen between us and I accepted that. I don't want your love. I want your
friendship."

"I'm not gonna be friends with a butt licker."

"Why? Why do you hate me now? Am I not the same person I was 3 days ago,
before...before the library? Am I not the same person you went swimming
with, played football with, watched movies, laughed, shared stories? Am I
not your friend?" He was quiet for a moment.

"No."

"But why? I was gay when I first met you. I was gay for years before
that. You didn't know that, but everything else...that's me. I don't have
the first clue about fashion, I can't cook worth a damn, I love sports, I
don't talk or walk in a cliche gay way. It was never an act. It's me. It's
who I am. The person you knew. That's still me. It's just that...it's not
the WHOLE me."

"Well, that part of you changes everything. I'm sorry. You're right, maybe
I should see you as I always have, but I can't. I'll never be able to be
around you without thinking whether or not you're checking out my ass. I'll
never be able to look back on us going swimming without thinking of it as
an opportunity for you to check me and the other guys out..."

"Look, I won't deny it. I did check you guys out. I did like what I saw,
but I restrained myself. I valued your friendship above all else. You have
to..."

"NO! I told you already, I just can't. It's over. I won't tell anyone,
because I know you're not a bad person and I don't want everyone else to
hate you. But I can't accept it either. I want you to stop coming to the
gym. You're not hanging out with me or our common friends anymore." He just
turned around and walked off, without even glancing back. I was too dizzy
to even stand up. God, not again! Due to my prior imposed isolation, I lost
pretty much all my early childhood friends. Now this? I was alone. I just
pushed my back against the wall and then I started sliding down it, until I
was on the floor. I don't remember how I got back into the classroom. I
don't remember getting through the day or arriving home. I don't remember
eating, drinking or washing up. I just remember crying. Crying myself to
sleep, only to wake and cry again. I was alone...

Alone on my walk to school. Alone in that damn desk in the back of the
class, alone at lunch, alone on my way back home, alone...Like I said,
A. was worshipped as a God. And maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he
didn't want to hurt me, but by actively ignoring me, he had set the tone
for the rest of the class. Heck, the rest of the school. He had hurt me,
even if that was not his intention.  This is where my weight problem I
mentioned earlier comes in. Yeah, yeah, emotional distress and eating
disorders. Cliche, right? Well, fuck you! I buried my face in burgers,
fries and every kind of dish my mom made for me. It wasn't necessarily a
way for me to cope with the emotional stuff. No, you see, my loneliness
made me seek comfort in movies and TV shows. Lots and lots of them. And you
know how it's always nice get a snack to nibble on while watching a show,
right? Well, apparently, it's been scientifically proven that a person
tends to eat far more than he would at a table(essentially what he needs to
in order to satiate themselves) if they eat in front of the TV. And like I
said -- my loneliness meant that I was in front of the TV all day long. You
do the math. By the end of eleventh grade, I had put on 20 kilograms.

After a depressing summer, my final year of high-school was upon me. I was
facing the Baccalaureate exam at the end of the year. Lots and lots of
studying, right? Wrong. 12 graders basically skip school anytime they like
and explain it as "I stayed home to study some more". Nevermind the fact
that the exam was months away and it was plain that they did nothing but
get together and go to coffee shops and stuff like that. Well, I was
dreading those moments. Seeing all those people, my classmates, people I
had considered friends, going out together, laughing and generally enjoying
life, while I was left behind...

And then there they were. On the first day of school, two new students
joined our class. Two girls, of course. One from the other side of the
country, black-haired and dark-skinned, skinny and with dark eyes,
screaming Cruella De Vil. The other, with curly blonde hair, blue eyes,
full lips and a kind face, she had just returned from Italy, where she had
lived with her parents for 2 years. They remained there, but she had found
it difficult to adjust, especially mid-way through high-school. She seemed
the exact opposite of the first one. Andra and Jo. My angels.

You see, as different as they may have been, they were new, in a
tightly-knit class. And I was an outsider. As beautiful as they were, I had
no doubt they would have fit in with the class bitch clique, but instead
they chose to sit close to me. And I thank God every day for that moment.

 	It's probably the only thing that kept me alive. I found in Andra a
kind soul, hidden by what even I assumed was a bitchy exterior. She had
moved due to her mother's job. And in Jo I found my best friend. Someone
who shook my hand enthusiastically and with a great big smile on her face,
as she proceeded to tell me her life's story in great detail. I couldn't
help but grin through it all. I hadn't had anyone talk to me for so long in
over half a year. It was...Heaven. She was lonely, just like me. Even under
her wide smile, I could sense her bitterness. Her longing for her parents
and her friends. Friends who, as fickle adolescents tend to do, forgot all
about her when she moved to Italy. Friends that were now changed, upon her
return. So Andra and I tried to make her feel at home just as much as she
and I did for Andra. And their presence was pure bliss. I finally had
someone with whom to skip class. Go get a cup of coffee while the Principal
taught English to a half-empty class. Play pool, get a pizza, laugh and
forget about any and all pain.

Then Andra up and went again, because of her mother. But I still had Jo. I
still had my lifeline. And so we sat in the same desk A. and I had shared,
laughing when we should have paid attention to the teacher, listening to
music and occasionally actually doing schoolwork. And then we would spend
the rest of the day together, doing whatever the hell crossed our
minds. Heaven, I tell you. Heck, she even got me to start exercising, so
when the time for my Baccalaureate exam -- which included a Physical
Education test -- I was in pretty darn good shape.

Now, I don't want you thinking that I fell in love with this girl. She
didn't turn me straight. I was still all about the cock, okay? But I
suppose I fell in love with the idea of it. I had already failed with the
whole "fake girlfriend" thing, but I had barely tried then. What if this
time I really gave it my best? Heck, you hear about gay men getting married
and living a lie for all their life. Why couldn't I do it? Living a lie
would be better than living alone and in constant sorrow...wouldn't it? I
had to try. If nothing else, I had to hang on to Jo. I had to hang on to
familiarity. I had to have a friend when stepping out into the future.
College was waiting and I would follow her anywhere, because I felt safe
with her.