Date: Thu, 31 May 2001 20:20:55 -0400
From: Nicholas Glenn <cascade_nick@hotmail.com>
Subject: Beta Male Part 3

				 Chapter 3

	While my conscious mind may have been dreaming of peaceful bliss,
my subconscious had different plans for me as I slumbered in expectant
peacefulness. I would get no reprieve from what had happened this
afternoon.  Some part of me wanted to examine and relive that
experience. The feelings that flooded me in that moment of my embrace with
Nick returned in full force while the rest of my brain was safely tucked
away in darkness. I saw myself revisiting my encounter with Nick, but I
wasn't fully there. It was as though I were entirely detached from my body,
watching as though a spectator from a separate corner of the room. I saw
myself locked in passion with Nick, saw the look of sheer absent-minded
bliss that swept across my face in that moment. I looked happy, I looked
serene. I was in ecstasy.

	But that's not me, I told myself from my observant position. The
real me, the part that matters, is not sharing that moment of passion.  It
is some imposter, some other person trying to pass himself off as Jon.  I
am not the type of person that gives into passionate desires, I am not the
type of person that believes in love. I am not, I am not... gay. As my
disconnected spirit comes to this conclusion, I see that the rest of my
physical form is still locked in that kiss. There is such pleasure
radiating from that being over there on that bed. The part of me left
watching from a distance cannot even imagine such contentedness. Surely
nothing real and physical could bring with it such happiness. In another
moment, I will push Nick away from me and explain to him that I am not that
person...

	I awake from my dream violently in a cold sweat. I never got to see
that moment when I ended our embrace. I had been jolted from my sleep just
a fraction of a second before it occurred. The scenario that had just
haunted me had ended with the sight of my body still caught in pure
rapture. Why hadn't my mind just let the incident pass? Why bring me back
to the earlier events of that day, which I so desperately wanted to forget?
Why didn't I get the benefit of a conclusion to my dream, the ending that
had happened in reality? How could such a moment of apparent joy bring me
such trouble and discomfort? So many questions, and so few answers. Never
before in my life had I posed questions to myself without even the hope of
knowing where to discover the answers to them. I obviously needed help.

	A glance at the clock revealed that I also needed to get up. It was
well after 11:00, and I had been asleep for a very long time. I hadn't
bothered to set the alarm before drifting off, something which was very
rare for me. I always liked to maintain a perfect schedule, and I almost
never forgot things. What was happening to me? I wasn't acting like myself
at all lately, for whatever reason. I was troubled instead of confident,
forgetful instead of precise, and unreliable instead of focused.  I no
longer was making my personal plans for each moment of the day.  Instead I
had found myself drifting along lately. None of this was natural for me, I
thought. I had to get to the bottom of all of it before I lost touch with
myself.

	And since I obviously wasn't going to be able to answer my own
questions, I needed to get in touch with someone else who could help
me. One of the benefits to having a circle of friends who are all really
good students is that among them you're likely to have at least one openly
gay kid to turn to for advice. This is because the better students tend to
be more accepting of them, at least outwardly so. Everyone should have a
gay friend like that. Usually, they are excellent judges of character
because of the intense psychological scrutiny they've put themselves under
in the process of coming out. Some of them are also very good interpreters
between males and females, translating between two different belief systems
that can make the two genders unintelligible to each other even though they
share a common language.  But in any event, I was having a gay crisis and I
reasoned that a gay male would be better able to help me. I decided to lay
my troubles on Mike and ask him to help me straighten things out.

	By the time I threw myself together it was nearly 11:30. I probably
wouldn't have any trouble finding Mike, since he had lunch at quarter to
twelve. All of the seniors hung out at the Wendy's down the street, so much
so that the place came to look like a cafeteria between 11:00 to 1:00 every
day. Most of the time I just took a study hall instead, since very few
seniors or juniors were at the actual cafeteria for lunchtime (doing so
branded you as a loser without access to a car, either your own or a
friend's), and in any event I wasn't a big fan of fast food. It was also
always a scary experience getting in and out of Wendy's during the lunch
period, since the mad rush of high school drivers arriving and leaving all
at the same time presents a heavy concentration of really bad drivers in a
small area. Bumpers and fenders didn't fare so well as all these kids
hurried to get to lunch and back again.

	When I arrive I'm glad to see that Mike is still there.  I
definitely need to talk with him before Nick shows up again today.  Across
from Mike is Nicole, my chief academic "rival" since high school began. She
is quite gifted, and this quality of hers is only accentuated by a really
obsessive personality (even by my standards). Nicole forces herself to be
competitive by being ruthlessly efficient in everything that she does. At
less than five feet tall, with plain features and dark brown hair left
frequently unkempt, it's easy to underestimate the girl. But doing so only
makes her more competitive and she is the type of person that thrives when
she's ignored. There is no doubt she will go far in this world, but for now
she knows she has to accept second place. But while she may be ruthless in
efficiency, she's personally quite gracious: she was more than willing to
help me write my valedictory address and I helped her with her speech. I
consider her a good friend, someone every bit as reliable as myself. For a
time I thought I might even have had feelings for her. By now I pretty well
have come to the conclusion that I probably just see something of myself in
her, and that created an attraction that was never really romantic in
nature at all. She is the person I would always turn to for advice... on
any other topic except this one!

	Mike and Nicole waved me over as soon as they saw me. Nicole seemed
almost finished with her salad, while Mike seemed just to have started on
his meal. Perfect, I thought. I knew Mike didn't have a car of his own; he
had probably gotten a ride with Nicole. Hopefully I would be able to angle
it so that I would give Mike a ride back, and then I could tell him about
my situation with Nick in private. It was taking all my courage even to
bring this topic up with him, and to tell you the truth I couldn't imagine
how he'd react. We weren't the best of friends, but we had known each other
a long time and I certainly knew I could trust him. But would he be
bothered that I would discuss this with him like he were some gay
relationship doctor? Would he be shocked? Could he possibly have any advice
to give me? It was worth a try in any event, and in the meantime the small
talk over lunch would calm me down a bit. I was surprised to realize how
long it'd been since I talked with some of my friends.

	"Jon! Playing hookie while everyone else is feeling sorry for you!
I thought you supposedly knocked your head," Nicole said with a tone of
mock annoyance. Strangely it hadn't occurred to me that I was still out on
a medical absence because of my concussion. I really probably shouldn't be
hanging around at lunchtime with everyone from school, but what the
hell. At this point there were more important concerns.

	"Aw, you're just angry I didn't hit my head a lot harder!" I teased
back at Nicole. At this, she nearly choked on a piece of lettuce as she
burst out in laughter. Nicole's always a great audience for my sense of
humor.  What I love most about her is that she never offers up a polite
chuckle; if Nicole thinks something is funny, she will laugh with every
fiber of her being. I really admire that about her personality, since you
really have to catch me off-guard with something unexpectedly funny to get
me to laugh like that. Even then I never feel natural letting myself
chuckle fully. I'm forever examining myself with an eye of
self-consciousness that never lets me lose myself in any moment, no matter
how funny. No matter how pleasant...

	"So, what brings you here to visit us peons?" I heard Mike asking.
"I thought you hated fast food." Yeah, I really did. The word "hate" was
something of an understatement.

	"Oh well, you know, even I have to eat every once and a while," I
answered. I wasn't about to get into a discussion about why I was really
there until I could be alone with Mike.

	"How are you feeling? You think you'll be alright for Six Flags?"
Mike was now asking.

	Oh, that's right, I suddenly thought to myself. We had made plans
to shoot over to Six Flags this Saturday. We'd been planning it for a few
weeks now, and somehow it'd just slipped my mind. There was no way I could
not go, I decided. My health be damned.

	"Absolutely, I wouldn't miss it for anything."

	We exchanged some more small talk, then I got up and ordered some
disgusting chicken meal and pretended not to be offended by the little of
it I actually did eat. After chatting a little more, mostly about school
(why is my life so focused on school, I thought to myself), Nicole got up
to get ready to leave. Seeing that Mike was doing the same (even though he
wasn't quite finished) I quickly stepped in to finish the purpose of my
visit.

	"Hey Mike, why don't you stick around a while and I'll give you a
ride back to school," I found myself saying in a tone that sounded just a
little more desperate than it should have. Fortunately, Nicole was in such
a rush that she was more than accomodating.

	"Yeah Mike, I have to hurry back anyway. You know how Mrs. Bachmair
is about lateness."

	"Hehe, yeah, I had her last year. Don't remind me. She's the reason
I put a study hall in after lunch in the first place." With that, Nicole
wished me well and headed out. Mike did have a study hall after lunch, so
it would be nothing for him to indulge me a little while listening to the
details of my now-bizarre personal life. When he finished eating we headed
out to my car. Alone in private at last, I would be able to ask his advice.

	Not that this would be easy or anything. How was I going to bring
this topic up, I kept thinking to myself. What was I going to say? Hey
Mike, do you think I'm gay? I could ask him how he came to know that he was
gay. I could tell him about what had happened... but I couldn't mention
Nick by name, of course. As I continued driving, I came to the realization
that I needed some kind of opening... where was it going to come from?

	"Jon, do you have something you want to tell me?"

	That will do nicely, I thought to myself. How could Mike know that
I had something to tell him? Was I that transparent these days? My
expression must have clearly told him about the troubling thoughts running
through my head. Too bad I couldn't just let him read my mind so that he
could understand my questions without me having to ask them. Oh what the
hell, I thought, I've come this far and now it's time to stop talking to
myself and start talking to someone else.

	I pulled the car over to the side of the road on one of the
backstreets nowhere near our high school. The fact that I hadn't even been
driving in the right direction to head back for school must also have given
Mike a hint that something was up.

	"Mike, I've known you a long time, so I feel like I can really
trust you. I know we haven't been very close in the past, but I need to
tell you something about how I feel, I need you to know that..."

	My words were interrupted by a glance at Mike. I had turned to face
him as I spoke, and was struck by his face at that moment. There was no
longer an easygoing, merely pleasant visage there. His intense green eyes
were fully focused on me. There was an entirely new - and entirely
different - aspect of his face being shown to me, one that I recognized on
some level but did not understand. His slightly pale, somewhat freckled
face showed an expression that quite simply took my breath away. Though a
couple of inches shorter than myself, he had hunched himself up in his seat
and was leaning towards me. It was a classic Hollywood moment, the hero
leaning in to kiss the leading lady and take him in his arms to live
happily ever after. For some reason I found myself unable to speak, unable
to move as this scene starting playing out in real life. His lips met mine,
and I relented before him in a complete and total daze...