Date: Wed, 12 Oct 2005 19:25:08 +0100 From: lidyah17@yahoo.co.uk Subject: Musings of a Teenage Idiot Part 1 Disclaimer: All characters belong to me (Lidyah), so does the content of the story. This story deals with gay characters aged seventeen and eighteen. Please do not read this if you are under the age of eighteen. Warnings: This chapter is rated PG. The story as whole will be rated NC-17 and should only be read by an adult. Angst, Romance, Humour, Drama, are the main genres of the story, Additional Notes: I want to thank my beta for helping me with my, very first m/m slash fic. Thank you. Feedback is loved, feel free to drop a line at lidyah17@yahoo.co.uk Musings of a Teenage Idiot: Part 1 It wasn't as if my day could get any worse... hang on, it was possible. Of course it was possible, it's always possible, because it's me, me, me, me, me. No, I'm not self absorbed. It just seems like bad luck wants to strike me down at all times, making my life as miserable as this cold, dreary day. Okay, so maybe I can be a drama queen at times, but I swear my last school burning down had something to do with my presence. I just know it. My dad has always said the Cairns family is cursed. My great, great, great -- well, whatever, grandfather stole money from a blind Gypsy because he needed a means to get back home. (`More like,' as my mum always whispers under her breath, `needed money for quick drink at the local pub.') But my dad always hushes her with a deadly glare and continues to tell me about the blind Gypsy woman. She cursed my grand father and his family for a hundred years, or until someone makes amends to one of her descendants. Call me weird, but I believe my dad. One night we even went down to the library of archives to look for the Gypsy's female descendants. A few names did pop up, but for the last fifty years or so, it seemed like her line died out. My dad and I gave up that night and sucked it up that this is our fate. Until today. Until I fell flat on my face and my tray of lunchroom goop went splattering all over me. As of today, I refuse to accept my fate as being `unlucky' any longer . I don't actually remember a whole lot of the incident, except slipping a few times on the sloshed goop that they try to pass off as food as I ran out of the cafeteria. So here I am sitting on the window ledge of the chemistry department, wishing a bird would fly by and push me to my heavenly death, `cause anything is better that facing the crowd that watched me tumble and stumble my way out. 'Derek?' Oh great, it's already started. Okay, so maybe my chemistry teacher won't make fun of me. After all, teachers aren't allowed to do that. It's in the handbook, I'm sure. 'Ah, are you okay ? I saw what happened at the cafeteria.' Dammit, she's actually trying to hold back a laugh, dumb bitch. `You and the rest of the school.' She lets out this strangled cry. Her face is bright red; I can't help but envision her with a leaf sticking out of her head, because her face looks red as a tomato. `Oh, I'm sorry, Derek, these things happen,' she says, trying to hold in her laughter. Sometimes I roll my eyes so much I'm afraid they might never resurface from the back of my head. `Which is why I'm sitting here wondering which way my death will be less painful.' `Oh, Derek.' Why does she keep saying `Oh, Derek'? Is she patronizing me? I'd like to see her fall. Heck, I would just push her for the sake of saying `Oh Kate'. Then maybe she'll know how it feels. Dumb bitch. `Look, Miss Armstrong, I am glad you feel my pain. But I handle these situations alone.' Get the hint? She sighs and puts her hands on her hips. `Derek, it's not the end of the world.' I merely nod. Hell, if she can patronize me, I can do the same. I'm only returning the favour. She checks her watch. `The bell is about to ring. Why don't you wait inside the class.' Right. As if me falling flat on my face wasn't bad enough, now I get to be the geek who runs to class first. `Sure.' I guess I'll have to wait for that bird another time . I swing open the door a little too hard. It to slams back against the wall and hits me hard on the shoulder. `Dammit. FUCK!' I hear light laughter from inside the large, dusty chemistry room. Great, more people laughing at me. That's all I need. Where is Zeus when you need Him? Oh mighty Lord, strike me down! `Are you okay?' I turn around to face the most gorgeous boy I have ever seen. Oh man, that sounded gay, hang on I'm I gay. Huh? When did that happen? When the fuck did I start to sound gay? `Are you okay? ' the guy repeats. Dammit, I need to stop having conversations with myself. People may start to think I'm arrogant. `Ah. Em. Yeah, thanks.' I'm stuttering, oh please, Zeus, kill me NOW. A small smile plays on his lips and it's so damn cute. Huh? It's perfectly fine to say a guy is cute. I mean, guys say that Brad Pitt is hot. I'm just stating a fact with this guy too. He nods and moves away from me. Hang on, I didn't even notice he was anywhere near me. Huh ? And why did I say `huh' three times in my last two sentences? Ah man, I need to sit down. Today hasn't been a good day for me. I'll tell you something about myself: I'm not one of those normal kids who has normal friends, family or thoughts. My life is a little messed up. My mum is a hippy and she's all for gay rights... then again, she's all for rights for flowers, so I guess that doesn't mean much. Well, she only decided to be supportive of gay rights when she walked in on me jacking off to gay porn . It was not something I really wanted to talk to her about, but she forced me to . I'm not gay, per say, I'm just one who appreciates pretty things, and if that happens to be a guy, what the hell. There isn't some big ol' back story of how I am. I'm just me and I kind of like it, even if it embarrasses the hell out of me . Sometimes I read these stories -- okay, yes, online and fictional, but still. People write these stories about gay boys coming out. It's always angst and drama. Like the boy was curious, then confused, then kissed his best friend, so his best friend kicked the shit out of him, and then told his parents, who kick the shit out of him again and kick him out of the house. I mean, really, can they be any more melodramatic? My point is, if I were to write my own story, this is how it would be: There was a boy named Derek, and he wasn't gay, per say, but didn't mind ogling pretty boys. His mother still loved him, and all was well with the world. I guess I wouldn 't get a truck load of reviews from that, would I? Is it so hard for people to realise that not all gay (or kinda gay) guys have a big old drama about them coming out? Aiye, I hate it when I get political in my head. I think I may just go stare at the pretty boy -- who isn't there, DAMMIT WHERE DID HE GO! Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Ack, stupid school bell. Oh well. Here comes another afternoon in school that I can call hell.