Date: Tue, 14 Aug 2001 18:40:22 -0400
From: W.B. Harrell <wbharrell@hotmail.com>
Subject: In the Arms of An Angel 1

In the Arms of An Angel
Chapter 1

By: W.B. Harrell

Disclaimer:  You know the drill, if this stuff is illiegal where you
are from, don't read it.  (don't get caught)  If this stuff offends
you, don't read it.  (what are you here for anyway?)  If you are under
18, don't read it.  (don't forget to clear your history kiddos,
your mom finding your secret porn cache is one hell of a way to come
out.)  Also, if you are here for a quick wanky, don't expect anything
to invigorating.  Young love is the main subjectline of this story
(with *some* sex in later chapters).  And, gee, if ya haven't figured
this out by now, this story is under the "high school" section of
nifty, so you have to assume that there is sex among minors.  If you
have made it this far, read on, I won't be able to stop you anyway.
Enjoy.

P.S.  Comments, Critiques, and Flames are accepted and encouraged, an
author needs feedback.  Tips needed.

E-mail me at wbharrell@hotmail.com---subject Arms of Angel please don't
abuse my e-mail or I will not hesitate to change it and stop accepting
e-mails from you guys, I hate to be so serious, but that happened to my
best friend Cyan at a message board.  I know (hope) I can trust you
guys!

Dedication: Zarah, read her series Just to Be With You and If That's What It
Takes (which i am editing [whoo-hoo!!!] in the Celbrity/Boy Bands Section.)



	My name is Jason, I'm fifteen, 5" 6' with neck-length brown
hair, blue eys and a slight build.  My legs seem too short for my body
(I've been told that that's cute), my nose is too pointed, and I'm gay.
	Wow, what a combination.  I've been called cute by girls, and
I've recieved some lusty looks, hell, I've even went out with a few,
but nothing ever happened.  I've been dumped time and time again
because I'm so "distant".
	My latest conquistadora (spanish for wanna-be conqueress) was a
hispanic girl named Kieyla Hernandez.  She gave me all sorts of
fluttery looks whenever I saw her and had an annoying habit of touching
my right arm when she talked to me.  She had a nice voice, and these
really deep brown puppy dog eyes that almost made me feel guilty that I
was ignoring her.  Almost.
	Like I said before, I'm gay, so I found myself immune to her
heterosexual charms.  It made all the cute guys eating from her hand
happy, so I was happy to oblige.  McIntosh Academy was full of cute
guys, usually they followed one of the few girls around like a
boy-harem (one of my many fantasies) or just stayed off the beaten
path, trying to stay up with the rigorous academic program.  Most were
jocks who were scared to death of unelligibility because of failing
grades.
	However, McIntosh Academy was home to two openly gay men.  One,
the guidance counselor Mr. Flores, a very nice-looking hispanic man in
his early thirties and Mr. Lankford, a fat, effiminate, and very
hormonal old man.  He had hair on his nose and coming out of his ears
and was an object of complete and total ridicule.  However, he headed
up every club in the universe, so he was left alone by the faculty.
	None of the students dared come out, though, because McIntosh
Academy is smack in the center of Bibb County Georgia. Biggots,
racists, rednecks, and more slithered out of the very shallow gene
pools of the not-so illustrious middle Georgia county, making
statements like:
	"Affirmative Action is legal racism, and The Ku Klux Klan has
rights, too!"
	Most students had rich, fathers, simpleton mothers, and a
healthy hate for anything unwhite, unstraight, and unProtestant.
Luckily, I was born in Key West Florida, where I lived for thirteen
years of my life.
	My dad is an architect, my mom's an accountant, my older
brother Wil is in college, and my six-year -old brother Max is
obviously in grade school.  To sum up how my parents feel about this
town:
	"Jim," my mom said, "If I have to sit through another PTA
meeting and listen to another Billy Jean or Susie Joe or Martha bitch
and moan about how the liberals and niggers are taking over, I'm going
to scream!" My mom rarely cursed, so I knew that she was really serious.

	I love my parents, but they are just as biggoted as the people
they complain about.  We moved from Key West because my mom and dad
didn't want the vast homosexual population to stunt my growth.  My
brother, Wil, never calls because he tried to come out to my parents
and dad proceeded to cut him out of the will and claim that no son of
his would be gay.
	So when I began to get feelings for other guys, I kept it to
myself.
	It was Monday, August 14, the second day of school.  Yet
another wonderful year here at McIntosh Academy.  I met my friend Chris
outside the four sets of double doors that was the entrance to MA.
	"Got your stuff for Jeilson's class," I said, referring to our
biology teacher.  Chris raised his eyebrow in a very sexy way (i made
a mental note to STOP thinking of Chris like that) and muttered an
expletive that flattered neither me or my mother.
	We stumbled to homeroom as much as two half-asleep adolecsents
could and plopped down in our seats.  Ms. Kimbal, our homeroom and
Geometry teacher began to blandly call out names as the bell began to
ring.  In her nasaly voice, she managed to cover a class of fifteen in
five minutes.
	By then, I was asleep and dreaming nasty little dreams about my
friend Chris.  "Wake up, you ignorant shit!" hissed Callie Nugent, the
only person in the world who knew about my homosexuality.
	"You wanna flunk *another* math class?" she asked.  I mumbled
something unintelligible like, "Deal the cards, or UNO!"  For my
trouble I got a slap on the back of the head.  "Wake up or I'll tell
everyone your dirty little secret," she said in a singsong voice.  I
was just about to tell her to go screw Mr. Lankford when her words
registered.
	"You wouldn't!" I almost yelled.  "Of course I wouldn't," she
said, "but it woke you up."  I scowled.
	I managed to stay awake during class, but lunch was another
story.  After almost falling asleep in my mystery meat and missing out
on Callie's important conversation with Chris, she murmered "That's
it."
	I woke up once again and gave her my best puppydog begging eyes
and was nearing tears when she jumped up on her chair and whistled
loudly.  I was about to use my fork to stab myself when she began.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, freaks and geeks, jocks and nerds...and
teachers," she turned and looked at me, "our mutual friend Jason
Alex Kent, has an announcement to make."
	I sank my head in my hands and choked back tears.  Callie
looked down coldly and looked back up.  "He is very shy, so I'll make
it for him, I'm sure that's how he'd want it to be anyway," she said in
her best cheerleader's voice (she was junior varsity captain), "a
secret that all of *you*, his girl admirerers, want to know."
	"Our friend Jason has confided in me that..." she drew out the
long pause and I got up to prepare myself to puke all over the place
as I ran for the bathroom. "HEY! Stop him!"
	I was suddenly caught by two bigger boys.  "Please don't do
this," I begged her.  She scowled.  "You should have listened to me
when I was talking to you," she said.  I was flabbergasted.
	Why would she tell everyone that I was gay just because I
didn't listen to her stupid conversation?
"Our friend Jason has told me that...He

Is...

Going to auction off his gorgeous bod to the highest bidder for the
benefit of the MA junior varsity CHEERLEADERS!!!!!!"  I didn't know
whether to be supremely happy or infinitly angry.  Angry, definitly
angry.
	I moaned as girls around the cafeteria began to hold up dollar
bills and shout prices.  I turned to Callie.  She smiled sweetly.  I
jerked my arms free of the guys holding me, who were splitting their
sides with laughter.
	"I'm going to FUCKING KILL YOU!!!" I screamed over the crowd.
Everyone began to yell louder and laugh harder, especially Chris.  I
was almost to her when I felt two very strong, very *adult* hands pull
and drag me toward the central office.  Before I knew it, I was sitting
in the counselor's office.
	"Rioting, those broken chairs could count as vandalism, threats
of bodily harm, and you know what all this could get you," said Mr.
Flores.  I nodded.
	"But it was Callie that started it all," I said, "you were
there, you know what she was doing."
	"I do indeed," he said, "and she will be dealt with accordingly
but, you, however, are caught on the short end of the stick, it's like
if you aren't in a fight, but the fight is about you, then you are just
as guilty as the persons starting the fight, understand?"
	"Mr. Flores," I said, "excuse my French, but no, I don't
understand that, it sounds like a pile of shit to me."
	He grinned a wide, white-toothed grin.  "It is," he said as he
chuckled to himself, "and that's why I'm only going to send you home
for today *only*, but next year, let's try to refrain from disrupting
lunch until at least the first week of school is over, huh?"
I grinned and nodded.  "Good," he said in a suddenly more friendly
tone, "your mom is on her way, she will be here shortly, you can wait
in the lobby."
	I picked up my stuff and walked out.  "Oh, and Jason," called
Mr. Flores.  I turned around.  "I put fifteen bucks on you, but missed
out, I feel like the cheerleaders are going to get a good bit of
money!"  I paused, nodded, then with a what-the-hell attitude, I winked
at him.  He grinned broader and winked at me back.



So that's the end of chapter one.  What did ya think, I know it was a
bit short, but that's how it goes.  You guys feel free to e-mail me at
the above address.  C-ya.

Hugs,
W.