Date: Wed, 12 May 2004 22:35:21 -0700 (PDT)
From: P. DeLasPalmas <madamnaltar@yahoo.com>
Subject: Fairytales Can Come True

Legal Notice:
The following story is a work of fiction and has no basis in
reality. Any resemblance between characters herein and people in
the real world is simply coincidental.

The author retains copyright to this story. Placing this story on
another website or reproducing this story for distribution without
the author's permission is a violation of that copyright. Legal
action will be taken against violators.


Jeremy sighed. "You'd think that as secretary of a San Francisco high
school GSA, I'd be getting more action than this." It was the first day
back from the winter break of his senior year. "I've been out since I
was a freshman, I've got a semester left, and nothing. Not a single
fucking thing. No dorks, dweebs, perverts, pedophiles, or closet-queens
to play with."

"Word on the playground is you're a cold hearted, straight-man lovin',
Barbara Streisand obsessed eunuch." Domenic chided as he bit into a baby
carrot.

Jeremy simply glared and rolled his eyes.

"I mean, come on Dom, when was the last time you slept with a guy?"

"That depends...does the word "slept" constitute actual sleep afterwards?
Cause I sort of took a nap in Physics after I met Bobby in third. But a
physics nap is hardly sleep."

" Dom, you're such a fag."

" I love you too sweetheart"

"I have yet to sleep with someone. Not one fucking queer has given me the
time of day. The last person to even TOUCH me with the slightest sign of
lust was Lois. Let me tell you, was that girl ever disappointed."

"Hah, yeah, poor girl came cryin--oh hell. That bell never seems to let
me get a single coherent sentence out."

Domenic popped the last baby carrot into his mouth and started towards
the door with his natural sway. Jeremy, feeling defeated and fat, picked
up the last of the chocolate gem donuts he'd been eating and popped it
into his mouth, following Dom, mocking his walk and posture behind his
back with an impression that made Jeremy look more like a newborn drag
queen.

"Knock it off Jer." Domenic said. He didn't even have to look back to
know he was being poorly mocked, it was part of the daily routine.

They walked down the hall together towards Domenic put his arm around
Jermey's neck, bringing him down in a near-headlock, making Jeremy
stumble as they walked.

"Jer, you have to put yourself out on the market if you want some guy to
come along and buy your goods. Fact is, for fairies at least, life is NO
fairy-tale, and even if it were, my love, you are NO Cinderella. Prince
Charming just ain't coming sweetness, so move on."

Domenic let Jeremy go, and almost flung him halfway down the hall towards
his own class as he moved just his fingers in the typical hello/goodbye
wave.

Jeremy staggered to keep himself from falling to the floor in the middle
of the hall in what would have been a much more embarrassing encounter.
He just didn't understand how Domenic could be so masculine one minute,
walking through the hall with this lithe figure dragging along in his arm
in a headlock one minute, and be so flamboyant the next with that
horrible wave.

The rest of the day dragged on as usual, not enough education or
excitement to ever make school seem worth going to, and too much
homework.

Jeremy sighed, hauling his own lifeless carcass through the empty halls
towards the newspaper room. As long as he could remember, Jeremy had been
stuck with the mindless task of being the Sports editor. At first the
advisor had thought it would toughen him up and maybe get him interested
in some more "manly" activities, but after being proved wrong in a single
semester, Jeremy thought his advisor did it out of pure spite. Jeremy
kept the position, hoping someone else would want it soon enough, but it
simply never happened. All of the other editors were either girls, or
guys whose sole purpose for joining newspaper was to get TO the girls.

After school hours spent on the paper were usually reserved for the week
before publication, but the advisor had called a meeting to discuss fund
raising opportunities. As Jeremy neared the classroom, one of the female
editors turned the corner going much too quickly and knocked Jeremy flat
onto the floor.

"Oh Jesus fucking Christ Jeremy, not only do you miss the meeting, but
you scare the crap out of me and make me drop all of my stuff too."

Rachel picked up her papers off the floor as someone he hadn't met
before helped Jeremy up.

"Gee, nice to see you too Rach. And might I ask who the hell this is?"

"Its my brother Stephen dipshit. You've met him twice before."

"Holy shit..." Jeremy murmured to himself. "He used to be little? What the
hell happened?"

"Its called puberty, moron." Rachel snapped as she pushed Jeremy aside,
off of the papers he'd been standing on. "He's a sophomore, transferred
in from the Catholic School." Stephen just nodded and gave Jeremy a
half-smile before helping Rachel with her things.

Jeremy picked up the last of Rachel's papers and handed it to her,
before he noticed the hearts drawn all over it.

"Oh no Rachel, tell me that's not another senseless love letter to some
closet case."

"Its not, you ass. It's the fundraiser Simmons wants us to run."

"What?"

"Mr. Simmons wants some of the editors to collect Valentines Day messages
from people to be published in the paper that week. We're supposed to
have them fill out these forms and collect money based on the number of
words or the amount of space it takes up. Its never going to fly. No one
ever buys into this crap."

"Just as long as ..."

"I know what you're going to say Jer, just as long as you don't have to
sell any, right? Well you don't have to worry about it. Tiffany and
Jennifer practically sold their bodies to Simmons to get themselves at
the forefront of this disaster. No doubt their boyfriends will be the
ones doing all the real work."



Jeremy walked into the house, drenched. The apartment he lived in was
just about a mile and a half from the school, but without a car in the
pouring rain or scorching heat, the walk was a regularly scheduled living
hell.

His parents had kicked him out just after he came out to them, and though
his grandmother disapproved of his lifestyle, she kept a roof over his
head by sending him checks every month with the same note on the bottom:

"Love the sinner, hate the sin."

He would have thrown them away, had he not desperately needed them.
Living alone should have been a welcomed reprise from the clamor of
school, but it never failed to depress him. He'd taken a habit to
walking in the door, throwing his keys onto the bed and saying to no one
but the emptiness, "Live alone, die alone." Before flopping down face
first onto the mattress. With no phone, no television and no computer,
the evenings were fairly routine and mundane. Jeremy came home, ate, did
some work, read, and went to sleep.

But tonight, like many before it, he simply couldn't. He lay awake in
bed, staring at the stains on the ceiling, hearing his next-door
neighbors headboard slamming rhythmically against the wall. He'd been
fucking the same woman for half a year now, always the same time of
night, always the same rhythm, and yet among all the audible voyeuristic
observances of orgasm, he never heard her have one. He was married, in
his 40's and had 3 kids. She was 13.

Usually Jeremy could sleep through this, learning to let the rhythm lull
him to sleep, but tonight, he lay alone in bed, quietly sobbing, holding
his legs to his chest.

Time passed quickly, as Jeremy had hoped it would. A month had passed
since he spoke to Domenic about how alone he'd felt. Nothing changed of
course, but after that night Jeremy couldn't bring himself to complain
about it any more. Domenic hardly noticed. Each day was filled with
menial conversation, who slept with who, which teacher is being a bitch,
how fat so-and-so is getting, and how bloated they each felt. The boys
had been friends since they each joined the GSA as freshmen, but never
felt anything more than friendship for one another. Domenic was
president, Jeremy was secretary. The veep was some hopeless fashion
emergency of a lesbian who seldom said anything, but occasionally lent a
horrifying guttural laugh to the mix of conversation at meetings. No one
else ever showed up, and on average the veep spent most of her time zoned
out listening to the Beastie Boys on her CD player while sketching "anime
babes" in her notebook.

"Ugh, S.A.D. is coming up. I only hope the cut back the Sports section to
accommodate the ads the girls are selling." Jeremy complained as watched
Domenic stab lightly at his salad.

"'Sad'? What the hell do you mean `Sad is coming up'?"

"S.A.D. loser. S-A-D? Singles Awareness Day?"

"Oh fuck you. Not another rant about how much dick you're not getting on
Valentines Day, Jeremy."

Jeremy grabbed his bag and swung it over his shoulder and started
storming out of the room.

Domenic looked on after him and said to the near-comatose veep, "I don't
know what that bitch's problem is."

Jeremy swung around in a rage.

"My PROBLEM? My problem is that I haven't said a single WORD to you
about how alone I've been in over a month. Over a fucking month! Not
since the day we got back from break."

"Jeremy. Don't be a drama queen. You may not have said anything, but
it's been written on your face and on your posture and on your sad-ass
imitation of fashion since the day I met you. I told you. Prince Charming
isn't going to come looking. You have to market your scrawny ass if you
want to get anywhere in life."

Jeremy turned around and left. Just as he was leaving the room someone
ran into him, body-slamming him and knocked him to the floor in the
middle of the busy hallway.

"Son of a bitch." Jeremy said as he sat himself up. He looked up to see
Rachel's brother Stephen standing infront of him, lending a hand to help
him up. "What is it with people in your family knocking my ass to the
ground? Between class transition periods are not supposed to be full
contact sports. Do I need to start wearing a cup?"

Stephen just grinned. He was the size of a football player, but never
said a word. He just handed Jeremy his things and walked away.

Jeremy limped on towards class, finding himself there a full 10 minutes
early. Being early was never good, with nothing else to do, Jeremy laid
his head down on his desk and fell asleep for the entire period. He woke
up to find a detention slip taped to his forehead. As the warning bell
rang, Jeremy grabbed his things and headed out. The entire day seemed to
be getting progressively worse. His economics teacher had decided to give
an open-book pop quiz, and Jeremy was without his textbook. He had to
serve detention that day after school or risk a second day, even though
he told the administrator in charge he had to get to newspaper, as the
deadline was this week. No dice.

When detention was finally over, Jeremy ran towards the newspaper room,
only to find his advisor, Mr. Simmons standing with his arms crossed,
leaning up against the doorway.

"Jeremy. You're fired." Simmons said calmly as Jeremy came to a halt
infront of the room.

"What? What the hell for?"

"You've missed countless meetings, are late on the week of deadline,
don't volunteer for fundraisers, and have never been enthusiastic about
your position."

"I'm GAY for Christ sake. You want me to drool over the chance to smell
body odor off of acne-infested football players every week? What the hell
do you want from me?"

"That really doesn't matter any more, now does it?" Simmons said, as he
turned his back toward Jeremy and walked into the room.

"Fuckin' son of a bitch." Jeremy said as he walked out of the building.

He didn't even bother to go to school the next day, fearing a fate worse
than the last.

Finally it was Friday, and Jeremy had to go to class. It was Friday the
13th, the day before Valentines Day, the last newspaper his work would
touch was coming out, and he had 3 different exams to get done that day.
Luckily, the day off had given him time to cool down and to get some
studying done.

The day went off, more or less without a hitch. It was calm, though
annoying, as couples and candy littered the halls. Jeremy went in to
apologize to Domenic, who thanked him, but quickly went on to brag about
which of his admirers had given him what. The veep, for once, looked
happy, and was without notebook sketches or CD player, as she silently
showed us a giant heart-shaped card from a girl who'd been admiring her.
Everyone seemed so cheerful, it was almost infectious.

Jeremy decided to go and apologize to his teacher for sleeping through
the entire class, but as soon as he stepped out of the room, he was met
with the familiar sensation of cold hallway tile underneath him. Stephen
coughed into his shoulder before helping Jeremy up and handing him his
things, smiling a bit differently than usual. Jeremy decided that this
must have been some sort of cruel initiation sort of thing for new
football players. Jeremy walked into class and set his things down when
he noticed a copy of the newspaper among his stuff. Thinking little of
it, Jeremy supposed Stephen must have accidentally put one with his
things when he helped Jeremy up.

Jeremy apologized to his teacher and went through the rest of the day
feeling rather pleasant. The good mood of the day was rather infectious
after all, and this Friday the 13th had oddly turned out much better than
his Wednesday the 11th. The sun was shining, but it wasn't unpleasantly
hot outside. Jeremy walked home and suddenly remembered that he hadn't
read the paper at all. Jeremy pulled it out of his bag and flipped to the
page where his last sports section should have been.

Jeremy stopped and stood agape. The sports section was missing, but in
its place, a full page Valentines Day ad had been taken out.

A man stood in the background picture, masked in shadows, showing only a
dark, muscular profile smelling a rose. The words were clear and
definite. The ad was from Stephen...and was to Jeremy.

Jeremy walked home in utter disbelief. It must have been some sort of
joke, a part of Stephen's initiation.

When he arrived home he saw Stephen leaning against his doorway, silent,
with only a loving grin.