Date: Tue, 12 Mar 2013 02:16:59 -0400
From: Cy-kun <cysanonymouslyanonymousemail@gmail.com>
Subject: Oh Radio Tell Me Everything You Know Chapter 24

Diskramer: Sex: This story has it, again, eventually. And it's between
boys.  If that bothers you, or you don't like stories that don't jump into
the sex right away, then this probably isn't for you. Copyrighted material:
Again, this story has it. I don't own the copyrights, I don't pretend to,
and this is free so I can't get sued anyway. True stories: This is not
based on one.

Introduction: I've got nothing this time, lol. Just that the story is
getting near the end. No, really this time I swear! Lol. I'd say there's
probably 4 or 5 more chapters before it's finished. So, this definitely
won't be like the last story where, bam, out of nowhere last chapter. Hope
you guys like it.

	-Cy

-----------------------------

	I was late for gym, but I couldn't even try to start caring. I
walked slowly through the halls after a hug-filled goodbye with Owen,
hopefully heading somewhere towards the gym. I probably looked like one of
those soldiers you see in World War 2 documentaries shuffling away from a
battlefield, dragging their rifle behind them in the dirt, looking at
nothing, barely even realizing the battle is over. Except, in my case, the
battle wasn't over at all. It was still going strong.

	I remember thinking that I was being torn apart probably a few
dozen times in my life, but this? God, this was what being torn apart
actually felt like. Not even exaggerating. If you were being ripped in half
by a dragon or, more realistically, from being tied to two horses or
buffalo or something, you'd feel EXACTLY the way I do now. I was stuck
between two unthinkable options.

	I knew how much it hurt Owen now, staying in the closet. Actually,
no, I knew how much it hurt ME because it practically tore my heart out of
my chest when I saw Brandon flirting with Owen like it was his right, like
I wasn't even part of it, so I knew what that felt like. But I still didn't
WANT to come out. Keeping everything a secret wasn't a problem for me, not
the way it was for Owen. So you have everything I felt when I saw him with
Brandon PLUS whatever he's feeling about having to keep everything a secret
when all he wants to do is be open, and THAT'S how Owen feels. And even
though I can't imagine it, I knew it was worse than what just happened to
me and it was all my fault. My Owen was suffering because of me.

	But then you have my dad. The guy who raised me, played with me
whenever I wanted when I was a kid, who took me fishing and golfing and to
the movies and turned down PROMOTIONS at work because he wanted to be
around to spend time with me and my mom. And all he ever asked in return
for all that was that I take pride in our family and get married and carry
it on so that my son could have that same pride. Something that I wasn't
ever gonna be able to give him. Something that was gonna tear him
apart. Something I don't think he'd ever be able to forgive me for.

	So, I could either lose my dad, or spend three years knowing that
the love of my life was in pain every single day because of me, and maybe
even losing him along the way too.

	I take back what I said before, being ripped apart by a dragon
would hurt way less.

	Dammit! I HATE making decisions! Why the hell can't Owen just
manipulate me?! Why can't he just make me have sex with him and make me
come out to his friends and make me tell my dad and come out to everyone
else too? I'd do anything if he pushed hard enough, if he made it a choice
between doing what I wanted and losing him. Then it wouldn't be my
fault. My dad would get his heart broken but I could blame Owen, just a
little, so it wouldn't feel as bad. So it wouldn't be ME doing it. Life
would be so much easier if he'd just make my choices for me.

	Except...

	Except part of why sex with Owen was so special was because we both
wanted it. Part of the thrill was choosing to do it, of giving that to Owen
gladly instead of reluctantly handing it over, or having it taken. Coming
out to his friends was the same. It was something I was giving to Owen. The
same way he gave me happiness and smiles and confidence and hope and
everything that made me more than I used to be. It felt GOOD. And I
wouldn't have had any of that if he'd made me do it.

	Sigh. I just wish things were easier.

	I hadn't even come close to deciding what I was gonna do when I
realized I was standing in front of the doors to the locker room. I should
just skip. My mom would understand. Hell, she's trying to get me OUT of gym
because she understands. I could just keep walking through the halls and
thinking, and maybe skip the rest of the day too until an answer magically
came to me-

	The door to my right that led to the gym slammed open against the
wall, making me jump. Coach Williams stood in the doorway, his arms crossed
over his chest and resting on his huge belly. He glared at me, and I felt
my heart speed up.

	"Baxter!" he yelled. I flinched. You'd think with the massive, life
changing problems fighting it out in my head I'd be a little less scared of
a high school gym teachers shout, but no, still a massive pussy. "You're
late! Get changed out and get your ass in here, now!"

	I swallowed and nodded, then scurried into the locker room before
he could say anything else. I let out a tiny, relieved breath when he
didn't follow and keep screaming at me while I changed. Not that that had
ever happened before, but it would fit today's theme.

	The locker room was empty, so it was actually completely stress
free to change for the first time in...ever. It also made it go twice as
fast and before I could calm down enough to think that maybe he wasn't
waiting right outside the door and if I was lucky I could maybe just sneak
away, I was already changed and walking into the gym, tightening my hair
ribbon as the door closed behind me.

	I was more than ten minutes late, so I was expecting everyone else
to be playing something or practicing something and for Coach Williams to
yell at me to run laps all period. But instead of any of that, the whole
class was just doing stretches in one corner of the gym. The other half was
covered with blue mats. My heart sank. There's only one reason Coach
Williams ever sets up mats and makes us do stretches at the beginning of
class...

	A sharp, shrill screech cut through the air and everyone stopped
and got to their feet. Coach Williams spit out his whistle to bounce
against his stomach as he strode over to us, coming to a stop and crossing
his arms again.

	"Alright!" he yelled. "Now that you're loosened up, find a partner
and get on the mats!"

	I bit my lip just in time to keep back a groan. Physical fitness
tests are pretty much the worst school related thing that can happen to a
skinny, shy boy with no actual upper body strength. An entire period of sit
ups and push ups and rope climbing and sprinting and everything else that
made my body feel like it was gonna fall off and explode, AND I have to
stand around awkwardly and wait to be paired up with the only other person
who couldn't find a partner. Or even worse, if there was an odd number of
kids I'd 'get' to do the whole thing with the coach. Thankfully Coach
Williams had already done this three times this year, so I knew there were
enough kids. I just needed to wait around to see who got stuck with me.

	And then, it got even worse.

	"Walters!" Coach Williams yelled. "Pair up with Baxter. He didn't
get a chance to stretch, so he should have an athlete watching out for
him."

	He shot me a cruel smirk as my heart stopped.

	Jarred looked over from where he was talking to Kyle. For a second
he looked like he was gonna protest, then he just let out a disgusted snort
before walking over. "Fine," he said.

	I closed my eyes and sighed. Of COURSE I had to pair up with
Jarred. With the way today was going I was surprised my mom didn't decide
to adopt him and make me share my room with him. I should have been
terrified. This was the first time since Owen and Kevin stood up to him for
me that I was anywhere near him, but I just didn't have it in me. The last
little bit of space I had inside me for anything but my battle was already
filled up.

	Besides, I'd already found out why he'd been ignoring me this
week. Him and Amanda broke up again and their relationship had a cycle that
you could pretty much set a clock to. They'd break up, then Jarred would
ease up on his assholeness for about a week until he and his friends
decided that they were all better off without being tied down to one girl,
if anyone else had a girlfriend they'd break it off and then they'd all
double down on "getting the fags" just to show that even though they didn't
have any "bitches" to impress anymore, they totally weren't gay or pussies
or anything. That would go on until Amanda decided she needed a boyfriend
again and got back with Jarred. Then they'd all get jealous and beg the
girls they dumped to take them back. I just had to hope that Jarred was
still on phase one.

	Coach Williams yelled at us to start with fifty sit ups. Jarred
walked past me without looking at me or saying anything -which always felt
like a victory- and I sullenly followed him. He flopped down on the mats
pretty sullenly himself, and at least he's as unhappy with this as I
am. It's more than a little weird having even that tiny little thing in
common with him. Then I got on my knees by Jarred's feet as he laid back
and set his legs slightly apart to get ready for the sit ups and, nope,
THIS is weird; kneeling in front of Jarred while he spread his legs. Jesus,
I hope he doesn't realize that or I'll probably get kicked in the face.

	But...maybe that'll give me amnesia and I can forget all about Owen
and my dad problem? I shook myself. Stop being an idiot, Andy.

	 Without even thinking I reached out to grab Jarred's ankles
because, that's what you did when your partner was doing sit ups, and
that's when he decided to pay attention to me.

	"Don't touch me," he said, glaring at me. "Just sit there and count
or something."

	I just stared at him for a second. Seriously? I sighed. Whatever. I
sat back on my feet and put my hands in my lap, waiting to see if that was
acceptable to Lord Jarred. This was so the last thing I needed today.

	 He waited a second, giving me a suspicious look. Jesus! Did he
think I was, like, waiting until he wasn't looking to touch him? Then he
snorted softly and started doing his sit ups.

	"Baxter!" Coach Williams shouted. "Hold his ankles down!"

	I started, then reached out to Jarred again.

	"Touch me and I'll break your jaw," Jarred said, not even seeming
out of breath from the sit ups he was doing. It made me hate him just a
little more. I looked at Coach Williams, who was glaring at me, then back
to Jarred, who was also glaring at me. God..DAMMIT! I growled under my
breath then shuffled forward and knelt down on Jarred's feet.

	"Wha-" he started.

	"I'm not touching you," I snapped, cutting him off. I gave him a
glare of my own, realizing even before I did it how suicidal -not to
mention totally not intimidating- it was. I didn't care. I couldn't deal
with this crap. I looked over at Coach Williams to see if he was gonna yell
at me for it, but he wasn't even looking at us anymore. Whatever.

	Jarred never even paused in his sit ups, but I still thought he was
tensing up to make with the jaw breaking. Instead, he just let out a huff.

	"Whatever," he said, then pointedly ignored me.

	 I was actually surprised he didn't hit me. It's not like Coach
Williams or anyone else here would report him. I decided right there that
I'd never in a million years understand Jarred Walters, and stopped
thinking about it. My thoughts turned back to Owen and my dad and trying to
figure out what to do but I barely had any time before Jarred stopped his
sit ups and yanked his feet out from under my knees. I blinked, then stared
at him in confusion.

	"Your turn," he said impatiently. Oh. Yeah. "And next time, fucking
count."

	I rolled my eyes, surprised again when he didn't hit me or say
anything. He'd done more to me for less before, but it wasn't like I was
actually gonna point out that he should be throwing punches. I got in
position, then waited for Jarred to hold my ankles. He didn't of course, he
just sat on the mat and crossed his arms, giving me a 'well, go on' look. I
growled under my breath again, then tried a sit up.

	Jesus! I couldn't even do these things when someone was holding
me. All alone, it was impossible. And ridiculous. I tried sitting up, but
my feet lifted up off the ground and I ended up awkwardly jerking and
shifting my whole body just to get my back off the mat. I slammed back down
with a grunt.

	"Shit," I hissed under my breath. "Can you just, hold me down?" I
asked louder, glaring at Jarred again.

	"I'm not touching you," he said.

	"Jesus Christ!" I snarled. Somewhere in the back of my head
Self-Preservation was pulling it's hair out and screaming at me to shut up,
but I didn't care. "I'm not diseased. You're not gonna catch gayness or
suddenly stop being manly if you touch me, and we're gonna be here all day
if you don't so just do it!"

	Jarred's eyes widened slightly. Or maybe I was just imagining it
because it was gone almost as soon as it happened. He still didn't hit me
though. He glared, and ground his jaw though. "Whatever," he said
again. Then he knelt on my feet like I did with him. And ground his knees
into me. Hard.

	"Ow!" I yelped. A tiny smirk flashed across his lips, quickly, but
this time I was sure I actually saw it. Something inside me snapped. I sat
up -I pushed off with my arms though so it didn't look pathetic- so I was
inches away from Jarred. It was the closest I'd ever been to him without
him shoving me into something or throwing a punch.

	"What the fuck is your problem with me?" I snapped, barely
remembering at the last second not to shout. "I never fucking did anything
to you!"

	The most surprising thing about what happened next wasn't even that
he didn't hit me, it was that he actually answered.

	"What isn't my problem with you?" He said it almost under his
breath, like he didn't mean to. Then he looked up, realizing that he
actually said that out loud. I didn't get what the big deal was, but he
looked like he regretted it for a few seconds, then he clenched his jaw and
narrowed his eyes. "You're this little....thing. You're weak and you're
pathetic and you can't even do a sit up and you're everything I hate
about-" He bit off whatever he was gonna say and if this was anyone else I
would have sworn I just saw his face flush. But Jarred Walters doesn't
blush. I don't think I'd know what to do in a world where that was
possible.

	"You're weak," he said again, after a few seconds. "And I don't
like you."

	Well. Any other day it probably would have hurt to have my entire
self summed up like that. But like so many other things today, I just
didn't care. On the scale of Andy's Life Problems, Jarred not liking me
because I'm weak and pathetic didn't even crack the top ten.

	"Fine," I said. "You don't need to like me. I don't like you
either. Because you're an asshole. And I don't like assholes. But, we're
kinda stuck together for this whole period so maybe you could stop being an
asshole for like thirty five goddamn minutes so we can get the fuck through
this as fast as possible. Do you think?"

	All of my neuroses and psychosis's were too busy trying to talk
Self-Preservation down from the ledge he was on, that's the only
explanation I have for why I was just sitting there calmly staring at
Jarred instead of shaking myself apart with fear. But, he STILL didn't hit
me. He just stared back. And this time, the surprised look didn't fade
after a second.

	In the end, all he did was shake his head and give me a look. I had
no idea what that meant. Except the look was the only one he'd ever given
me that wasn't filled with hate or contempt or annoyance or loathing.

	"Are you gonna do your sit ups or what?" he asked, sounding almost
bored. Not at all like Jarred ever sounded when someone talked back to
him. And THAT was what finally shocked me out of my calmness.

	"Um, y-yeah," I said. "Sure."

	I did the sit ups. It took me twice as long as it took everyone
else and by the time I struggled my way to fifty I felt like I was gonna
die, but Jarred stayed kneeling on my feet so they actually got done. By
the time I was done though, Jarred looked like he really was gonna hit
me. The whole time I was doing them he kept throwing out little comments
about how I was doing them wrong and not breathing right, which quickly
turned into complaining about how long it was taking and then outright
making fun of me. I didn't say anything back at first, I was getting a
little worried about camels and the amount of straw on the backs of camels,
but it didn't take long to get really fucking fed up with his crap and
start snapping back.

	And, surprisingly, that actually seemed to make him back off, a
bit. Or at least make what he was saying less outright hurtful.

	And that's how it was for the rest of gym. We'd do push ups or rope
climbing or sprints or squats or -can't say it without shuddering- pull ups
and he'd go first and do it perfectly and then I'd go and he'd make fun of
me. But I'd always yell at him or call him an asshole and he's stop for a
bit. And every time he seemed surprised and even a little bit pleased that
I talked back. It was easily the weirdest thing ever. Even weirder than the
spread legs thing.  Especially considering how he'd always acted whenever I
said anything back to him in front of his friends.

	But maybe that was it. In fact, I'm pretty sure it was because
every time we got close to another group that had one of his friends in it
he'd change, slightly. He'd sneer at me and call me a fag -it surprised the
hell out of me when I realized he didn't do that at all when we weren't
around his friends- and if I even opened my mouth he'd shove me or make
like he was gonna hit me then laugh when I flinched or any of the usual
stupid jock crap he always did. But when his friends left he went back to
the way he was before they showed up. It was weird. And confusing. And
frustrating. And by the end of gym I was so done with it that I couldn't
wait to get the hell away from him. I almost wish he'd just go back to the
way he always was, just to have some consistency.

	When gym was over, I couldn't get away fast enough.

	Literally.

	"Baxter!" Coach Williams yelled. I'd just finished getting changed
and would have been out the door if I'd have walked just a little bit
faster. I slumped. "My office, now!"

	I tensed. I thought about just running, but I'd just have to come
back tomorrow and if being partnered up with Jarred was punishment for
being late I didn't even wanna think about what he'd do to me if I ran away
from him. So I dragged myself into his office next to the showers, ignoring
the snickers from the jocky idiots and another, different, weird look from
Jarred that I couldn't figure out.

	"Close the door," Coach Williams said when I entered the office. I
was so surprised that he didn't yell it that I just stood there for a few
seconds staring it him. Then I shook myself and scrambled to shut the door
and sit down in one of the two chairs facing the desk.

	The desk was a total mess, covered in papers and grading books and
a bunch of old candy wrappers, some with half a chocolate bar still in
them. It was even grosser than bag lunches. Coach Williams heaved his bulk
around the desk then collapsed into the abused looking chair behind it. I
half expected it to collapse, but it held on, barely. I felt sorry for the
poor thing.

	Coach Williams just stared at me for about a minute and I started
to get worried. Why isn't he saying anything? Did he bring me in here to
kill me? Was he waiting until everyone else left so he wouldn't have to
worry about sneaking the body past anyone? Was he gonna....eat me? I
shifted nervously. Then I had to fight the urge to hit myself.

	Kill you and eat you? Oh God Andy, you are a fucking idiot.

	...no argument here.

	"You're out of gym class," Coach Williams said out of nowhere. I
was so startled that I didn't even register what he said at
first. Wait...did he...?

	"Wh-what?" I squeaked.

	"Your mother got you pulled out of gym. You telling me you didn't
know about that?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.

	"Yes! I mean, no! I mean-really?" I tried to hold back the tiny
spark of hope that was trying to flare to life in my chest. With my luck
he'll say 'nope, I lied' and then partner me with Jarred until he
graduates.

	"Yes. Really," he said. He leaned over the desk as much as his
belly would let him and asked, low and threatening, "Did you tell her
anything about me?"

	"Wh-what?" I said again. What would I
tell...oh. Yeah. Everything. "N-no," I said, shaking my head.

	He stared at me again and, oh shit, what if he doesn't believe me?

	"I-I just t-told her that I was having p-problems with some kids
and s-she said she'd try to get me o-out of gym..." I trailed off when he
didn't even blink. I swallowed.

	After what seemed like the entire length of the Battle of Verdun he
finally spoke.

	"Good," he said, leaning even closer. God, doesn't that desk hurt
digging into his belly so much? "And just because you're not in my class
anymore, don't think that means I won't be able to make your life hell if
you tell anyone about anything that goes on here. I still have whole teams
of witnesses that will say you're lying, so keep your mouth shut and we
never have to have anything to do with each other again, got it?"

	I nodded. Only a tiny part of me resented it. Most of me was just
glad that I was out of gym. I didn't need revenge, I just needed one thing
in my life that didn't come with stress or impossible decisions.

	And it was so freaking weird that I was getting it from Coach
Williams.

	"Good," he said again, sitting back in his chair. He pulled out a
piece of paper and tossed it at me. I'm not sure which one of us was more
surprised that I caught it. "Here's your final grade. You passed. It'll be
on your report card too. Go get your lock and come back for your deposit
then take your clothes and get the hell out of my locker room."

	I stared at the piece of paper for a second. He must have printed
it up before class, so, wait, he KNEW that today was my last day in gym and
he still made me spend it doing physical fitness with Jarred just for being
late-you know what, I don't even care.

	I got up and nodded rapidly. "Ok," I said. I hesitated. Do I need
to be, like, dismissed or something-

	"Go!" Coach Williams barked. I jumped then scurried out.

	Almost everyone was gone from the locker room, but I barely noticed
and I have no idea if anyone saw me taking the combination lock off my
locker. I took out my gym clothes and wondered where I was gonna put them
because they were kinda sweaty and gross and I didn't want them in my
regular locker, but then I realized that I was never gonna need them again.

	I grinned like a psycho as I threw them in the trash.

	I gave the lock back to Coach Williams and he handed me the five
dollars I'd given him at the beginning of the year as a deposit for the
lock. I half expected him to smash the thing on his desk, say I broke it
and keep the money, but I guess he was as eager for me to leave as I
was. In the end, the last interaction me and Coach Williams ever had was
him shooing me out of his office and his life with a jerk of his hand.

	And just like that, I was done with gym.

	Things were looking up.

**

	Things were definitely not looking up.

	"Get out of my way," I growled at Brandon. He was leaning back
against my locker, arms crossed and a tiny little smirk on his face. God,
I'd never wanted to punch anything more in my life. The second I saw him
there everything that I'd felt seeing him with Owen came roaring in from
the background and I almost just lunged at him to see how far I could get
with the tearing him apart thing before someone tore me away. But I just
barely held back. I didn't wanna have to explain to my parents why I tried
to kill someone. And even if I did decide to come out, that would probably
be the worst way to do it besides getting caught, uh, being together.

	Brandon waited while I ground my teeth, just long enough to make me
seriously rethink the not killing him thing, then he pushed off my locker
and stepped out of the way. I put in the combination and yanked the door
open. It slammed against the locker next to it as I violently pulled my
books out, feeling Brandon's eyes on me the whole time.

	He was too damn close. As close as he was to Owen. Close enough for
me to reach out and smash his head against the wall-

	"What the hell do you want?" I asked suddenly, spilling around as I
slammed my locker shut.

	"Just wanted to say hi," he said with an easy smile. My eye
twitched. Ok, that's it, I need to get the hell away from him before I do
anything stupid. Whatever idiot Brandon game he's playing can wait until
the weather is less cloudy with a chance of homicide.

	"You're gonna lose him, you know," he said before I'd even gotten
two steps. I froze, my whole body feeling cold.

	"What did you say?" I asked. It came out calm, even though I was
feeling anything but.

	"Your boyfriend," Brandon said smugly. "He's gonna leave you."

	The panic was sudden and violent -Oh god, he knows, he knows he
knows he knows someone found out about me and Owen and they KNOW- but it
barely lasted two seconds. Because he knew. He knew and he still flirted
with Owen and now he's here throwing my biggest fear right in my face. The
white hot anger lasted even less than the panic. All I was left with was a
cold, numb, fear.

	I turned around slowly. I barely even noticed how heavy my books
were in my arms. "I-I don't have a boyfriend," I denied automatically. I
winced. Sometimes I hate how well I conditioned myself.

	Brandon just raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Seriously honey?
I've seen better line delivery in indie films."

	"Shut up," I said, again on autopilot. I was thinking too much
about Owen and unashamed touches and how I couldn't give that to him.

	"That's why he's gonna leave you though," Brandon went on, ignoring
me. "You can't even admit you have a boyfriend to the gayest person in the
whole school district. It's pathetic."

	"Shut up," I said again, weakly this time. He was right, and I
hated it. It was pathetic. God, Jarred was right too. Weak and pathetic,
that's me.

	"In fact, how the hell did you ever get someone like that in the
first place?" he looked me up and down with a faint look of distaste. "I
guess some guys actually like the pale, waify, quiet thing."

	I felt like I was being punched in the chest. How is he hitting
every insecurity I have without even trying? How the hell am I so
vulnerable to Brandon Carol of all people?

	"Why?" I said, soft and strained. I wasn't even sure what I was
asking.

	"What was that? Why? Why what? Why is he gonna leave you?" Brandon
asked condescendingly. "I already told you, you can't give him what he
wants."

	"He loves me," I said. It sounded feeble though. Is that really
enough?

	"Oh honey," Brandon said with mock sympathy, "that doesn't even
matter. He needs more than you can give him. He CAN'T be happy with
you. And sooner or later he's gonna figure that out and leave you to find
someone he can be happy with."

	"It won't be you," I snapped defensively. It was the only thing I
could say. "He's not gonna go running to you."

	"You know what? It doesn't even matter," Brandon said. He smirked
at my confused look. "When I found out you had a boyfriend, I WAS thinking
about breaking you up. But I don't even need to. He's gonna leave you on
his own and it's gonna be all your fault and that's SO much better."

	"Why?" I asked, begged really. I just barely held back the sob that
would have made me sound even more pathetic. Why would he care? Why would
anyone care that much about me being happy?

	"Because you made your friend 'date' me," Brandon hissed in sudden
anger, taking a step towards me. I thought he might hit me, but I didn't
try to move away. It would be a relief to have a different pain to focus
on. "She came to my HOUSE and said she was my GIRLFRIEND and my dad was so
happy! He smiled at me, really smiled at me for the first time since I came
out and I had to tell him the truth. I had to tell him, again, that I was
never gonna have a girlfriend and I had to watch his smile go away and turn
back into that disappointed, confused look he's had for years even though
he SAID he was ok with it and he SAID he-"

	Brandon bit off whatever he was gonna say. He glared at me, then
ground his teeth and took a breath. He gave me an angry look, but I could
see the hurt behind it. "You deserve it," he said. "And-"

	"Brandon, what are you doing?"

	I blinked, startled to see Kevin standing right behind Brandon. I
hadn't even noticed him walk up to us. He looked back and forth between us
warily.

	"What?" Brandon said, slightly defensively. "I'm just talking to
Andy."

	Kevin sighed. "Brandon."

	Brandon looked at Kevin for a second, then threw up his hands and
rolled his eyes. "Fine! I was telling him that his boyfriend is gonna dump
him, ok?"

	"What?" Kevin said angrily. "Dammit you promised you wouldn't
bother either of them."

	"Well I obviously lied," Brandon said, crossing his arms.

	Kevin stared at him in disbelief, then shook his head and swore
under his breath before turning to me. "Andy, I'm sorry. This is my
fault. I told him about Owen and I thought-" he glared at Brandon as he
said that "-that I could trust him not to try anything. I guess I was wro-"

	"Oh come on!" Brandon cut in. "You're only being like this because
you like him. You should be happy anyway. Andy's gonna be single soon so
you can finally deal with that stupid little crush you have on him-"

	"Goddammit, shut the fuck up Brandon, seriously," Kevin said,
blushing faintly. "If you actually knew me at all you'd know I don't want
anyone like that."

	"Wait," Brandon said, holding up a hand. "All of a sudden I don't
know you now? I've known you since seventh grade. Don't act all bitchy just
because I'm telling the guy you like something he needs to hear."

	"You didn't used to be this much of a complete asshole-"

	"Kevin," I said softly. He heard me though, and stopped mid
sentence. I sighed. "It's ok. He's right."

	Kevin blinked in surprise. Brandon smiled smugly. "What?" Kevin
asked.

	I looked at both of them. Kevin who liked me and was trying to be a
friend even though he wanted so much more. Brandon who hated me and wanted
to see my heart torn out. Neither one mattered. All that mattered was Owen.

	"He's right," I said again. "Don't worry about it."

	And, since I had nothing to say to either of them, I turned and
walked away.

	I heard Brandon giggle softly behind me.

	"GodDAMMIT!" Kevin said. "That wasn't cool Brandon! Whatever you're
trying-"

	His voice faded as I moved down the hall.

	It tore my heart out, everything Brandon said. It was everything
I'd been telling myself, everything that I'd been terrified of. I thought,
maybe, that I was just overreacting. Being the usual 'jump to the worst
conclusion' Andy, but if someone like Brandon could see it that easily, I
couldn't deny it. I couldn't pretend it wasn't gonna happen.

	I walked through the halls, not at all surprised when I wound up in
the freshman hall instead of anywhere near my next class. For the second
time today I was lucky. Owen was there, talking to Juan. I wish I could
have walked over to him. Hugged him. Let him hold me. But I just watched. I
watched Owen laugh at something Juan said. I watched Juan give Owen the
finger. I watched Owen shove Juan. I watched Juan shove him back. I watched
them both laugh as they walked into a classroom.

	I leaned back against the wall and smiled faintly.

	Because Brandon was right. Or maybe it was that I was right, and
Brandon was the one that made me realize it. It didn't matter. All that
mattered was that I couldn't be with Owen if I wasn't ready to give him the
relationship he wanted. Needed. It wasn't fair to him. And as much as it
terrified me, part of me wished it could have been me there with him
earlier instead of Brandon. Not just because I didn't want Brandon anywhere
near him, but because I wanted to be the one touching him and I wanted to
be the one smiling at him, standing a little too close, taking it a step
farther and resting my head on his shoulder when I was having a bad day.

	In the end, my problem really wasn't a problem, or a battle. It was
a choice. What couldn't I live with, Owen or my dad? I loved my dad. He was
the best dad anyone could ever have. But I'd known I was gonna lose him for
years. Being scared of it didn't make it any less inevitable. I'd never
even thought of losing Owen until today. Not seriously. Not knowing in my
bones that it was gonna happen. And I hated it.

	So, it wasn't even really a choice, in the end. I needed to give
this to Owen. Freely. Like I'd given him every other part of me.

	I needed to come out.

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	This space for rent.