Date: Tue, 09 Nov 2010 02:46:18 -0800
From: Barry Mattison <stories@barrymattison.com>
Subject: "Vance's Locker Life"

Vance's Locker Life
gay/high school
AUTHOR: Barry Mattison
07 November 2010

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INTRODUCTION:  "Vance's Locker Life"

Vance has been pushed around and bullied all his school years. Small,
different than the jocks...and gay, he didn't fit into any of the schools
his mother moved him to and from. She too began to hate him, adding to his
depression and lack of enthusiasm for doing anything other than hiding in
his room. He saw only one way out of this lonely, emotional roller coaster
of a life. But could he do it? Did he have the guts? And what did this new
transfer jock want from him?

The characters in "Vance's Locker Life" are all fictional and any semblance
to real persons--living or deceased--is purely coincidental.

DISCLAIMER (VERY IMPORTANT-PLEASE READ):

This fictional story and others written and published by this author are
written for the gay reader in particular and describe scenes of male nudity
and sexual acts between two or more guys that some readers may find
inappropriate and/or unsuitable for their reading. Please do not read any
further if you find such reading offensive or if it may become property of
anyone under the age of 18 (21 in some states.) "Vance's Last Stand" is
copyrighted by Barry Mattison under the Registered Trademark Foxstories®
and published as StoriesByBm© with exclusive permission to publish given to
the Nifty Alliance Archive only. Anyone wishing to use any stories
published under either copyright may must contact me at the email above for
information related to copyright. Copying, distribution or re-publication
of this writing in any other web site, private or otherwise, without
written permission of the author is a violation of local, national and
international copyright laws and will be pursued to the fullest extent
allowable by applicable laws governing that state or country.

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

Chapter 1

Vance slumped against the side of the locker -- the inside that is --
resting his back and knees as best he could against the sides. He'd been
there since just before lunch. Todd, a captain of the football team and one
of Vance's longest enemies, plus a few of his jock buddies from the
football team had locked him in after one of their fun-filled name calling,
shoving about sessions that normally preceded being left in his locker
until someone let him out. Yelling was useless, experience had taught him
that from the hundreds of times it had happened. Now in his junior year he
was used to it and just waited, knowing that he would be let out when a
teacher realized that he hadn't been in classes all day. The routine never
changed and he'd resigned himself to the fact that he was destined to this
fate, until at least graduation...if he could make it that long.

At only five feet eight inches and one hundred twenty pounds, Joe was and
always had been a target for the bullies in every school his mother had
transferred him to.  Sure she had complained to school authorities before,
but the usual reply was one of unconcern. "Boys will be boys" was the usual
answer she was told time after time. The current principal, Mr. Jones, told
my mom that football was the reason that the school received enough money
to allow kids like me to get an education to begin with, so she should be
lucky and so should I. Right now I was not feeling particularly lucky that
I was now stuffed into my locker, desperately needing to go to the
bathroom, not knowing when I might get out. I guess there were several
things that made me a good target all these years, not that "they" needed
any to torment me to this degree. I was smaller than anyone else, even most
of the girls, I didn't play sports...preferring instead to spend time in
the library reading; I was smarter than them, although my grades didn't
show it...and I was pretty sure I was gay. Even a hint of being gay in
school can get you killed, everybody knows that, so I tried my best to hide
it, which didn't work as someone would invariably make up some picture or
something to put on Facebook or MySpace to spread around about me that
wasn't true.

It was true that I pretty much knew I was gay. Since I was about ten or
eleven years old I was more interested in watching guys than girls. Now as
a junior I hated shower time after PE class. As a rule I would try to wait
until everybody had showered and left before carefully undressing out of my
blue PE shorts and matching t-shirt; I'd slowly taking off my jock strap
and cup that the teacher insisted we wear and quietly sneak into the
shower, take a quick cold one, and out agaain without being seen. Sometimes
I would try to sneak out without showering to avoid seeing guys naked. When
it did happen that I saw one of them naked I would almost always get an
embarrassing erection, then spend time trying to hide it before being
spotted. It generally worked, until one day the captain of the soccer team,
who happened to be in my PE class caught sight of me looking at him. I
couldn't help myself but he was the most handsome guy on the team. Tall,
blond hair that hung down over his ears and bangs that just barely covered
his bright blue eyes...a white butt that was accented by the dark line of
his summer tan, and a huge wanger wrapped in a white jock strap that was
growing beginning to bulge farther out as I stood there and watched.

Eric was, simply put, captivating. He was dressing and had just put a clean
jock strap on and was standing there in front of his locker with his jeans
pulled up, except for the bulge of his jock hanging out the front of his
jeans. It was so big and white that I found myself staring. That was when,
as they say, the shit hit the fan.

"What the fuck are you staring at homo? You like looking at guys' dicks?
Get the fuck out'a my sight faggot. Wait 'till I tell the guys about this,
your life is going to be a REAL hell from now on."

As I sat, crunched up in the locker I remembered that that moment was the
beginning of the end. The bullying turned physical, the words hurtful to
the point that I couldn't stand to be seen by anybody...but I didn't want
to cry or show any weakness, but the tears were starting to trickle down my
cheeks as I thought about my pitiful life. Why did it have to be like this?
Why couldn't these guys just leave me alone and why wouldn't someone do
something about it? I felt all alone. My friends, or so-called friends,
avoided me like the plague now, not wanting to incur the same fate or be
called the same names as I was, even though a few of them were gay as
well. In fact I knew several of the jocks who were "in the closet" that
regularly were part of the group that would beat me up while calling me a
"queer faggot", a "worthless piece of shit that didn't deserve to live."
Many times I would come home all black and blue, my arms and legs covered
with cuts and bruises, crawl under the covers and stay there, not even
coming out when my mom called me to dinner. Occasionally she would come up
to my bedroom to see what the problem was, but I would tell her I wasn't
feeling good, so she would just walk out and leave me there, never asking
or pushing further for the real answer. I gradually grew to hate her for
that. Some of that hate still exists today.

Inside the locker I was slowly resigning myself to the fact that I might be
spending the night there when a loud banging on the door almost caused me
to wet my pants. "Hey, you still in there?"

"Yes," I replied in a quiet whisper, not knowing who might be lurking on
the outside waiting to find some other new form of torture for me. "Hold
on, what's your combination number? I'll let you out," came the request
from outside the locker. As the dial spun around on the lock, I tried to
stand up to be able to at least walk out with some dignity, but my knees
were locked, along with my back, against opposite sides of the locker...I
was stuck. As the door slowly creaked open I felt this dismal, sinking
feeling in the pit of my stomach of still being helpless, even though
freedom was at hand...what would be next?

"Well, are you coming out of there or not?" a soft voice asked. Looking up
I saw a stranger standing there. "I'm stuck, my knees are locked I've been
in here so long. Thanks for opening the door though...I'll manage to get
out by myself, thanks. What time is it?"

The dark blond, hazel eyed boy standing there stared at me. "School's
almost out. You been in there all day?"

"Almost...at least since PE just before lunch. It's nothing unusual. Thanks
again for letting me out, I'll manage...I'm used to it. You don't have to
wait, besides, if Eric and his buddies see you helping me you'll probably
end up in the same place too. They think they own the place and always push
me around. I spend a lot of time in here."

"I'm not too worried about them right now. Here, let's see if we can get
you out of there." I couldn't believe that someone wanted to help me, but I
wasn't about to turn down the offer from whomever this guy was. Besides, he
was new, someone I'd never seen around school before and very good
looking...making me wary and very nervous. Usually that combination meant
trouble for me, but I extended an arm for his help and felt a weird chill
run down my spine when he touched me.

"Here," he said, "grab my other arm and pull yourself out if you can."

I did as he asked and managed to twist my chicken legs around each other
and out I popped, nearly hitting the floor before he caught me in his
arms. Lifting me up,I used his arm to steady myself as he helped me stand
on my own feet; I could sense him staring at me.

"My name's Scott," he said as he extended his hand towards me. "Are you
okay? You've been crying...I'm sorry."

What? I didn't know how to react because very few people who knew me ever
shook my hand let alone tell me they were sorry I had been crying, but I
slowly reached out and shook his hand carefully, then let go and placed
both hands in my jeans pockets. "What's the matter?" he asked. "You look
like you're ready to run off."

Looking down at the floor I replied, "it's just that usually if someone
does something nice to me it's a setup so that they can follow it up with
some more torture. I don't have a very good reputation around here. You
must be new if you took a chance by letting me out. Usually it's a teacher
or the janitor." I didn't want to cry in front of this stranger, especially
since he had been unusually kind to me, something I didn't understand, but
I also wasn't prepared to open up very much to him either. I slowly reached
past him into my locker, pulled my backpack off the hook, closed and locked
the door, and headed for the door and home. As I walked away I turned
around..."thanks for letting me out, I really appreciate it, but if I were
you I'd be careful about being seen with me. You'll end up being picked on
too. Thanks again. I have to go."

Looking down once again, I headed towards the stairs and walked down and
out the side door of the school towards home. I never left by the front
door because the jocks and their girlfriends always hung out there after
school to haze the younger kids, especially me. It was a game to them. Even
the girls joined in. Sometimes I thought they were more mean than the
guys. They had a way of getting under your skin knowing you couldn't do
anything about it. Today I was lucky. Frequently they posted a sentinel at
the side door if they really wanted to be push someone in particular around
or beat them up, like me. I managed to get away from the school without
anyone seeing me, except for a new face that watched me from the library
window. Once I was off school grounds I ran home the rest of the way.

The next day I managed to avoid any torture as my major pain-in-the -ass
tormentors had an away game and I got to leave school on time without being
locked in my locker again. It was normal that I got tormented every day by
these guys, so today was like a fresh spring breeze. That was until I was
walking around a corner and ran right into the new guy.

"Ouch," he said, rubbing his head where I'd hit him with my book. "Are you
accustomed to running into people all the time like that?"

"I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't hear you coming down the hall." I cowered
down a little, unsure of what he was going to do. I was sure he had heard
all about me by now and was ready to let me have it with a string of
insults. "I'll just get along and leave you, sorry I hit you."

"Wait!"

Oh shit! I froze in my steps, ready to run at the slightest touch.

"Don't run. I'm not like those other guys. I'm not going to call you names
or push you around, I promise. Don't leave, let's walk out together."

Gulp. "How do I know you aren't just joking? Nobody has ever talked to me
like I'm a human being."

"I meant what I said. I want to get to know you. I just moved here and
you're the only person I know so far, except for the jock club. I didn't
care much for that guy Eric and his buddies, but they don't bother me. Come
on, let's get out of here. I live a block away from you. I followed you
home yesterday to see where you lived. Sorry about that but I didn't think
you'd talk to me again. By the way, my name's Scott."

Once again he reached out to shake my hand. This time I shook it with a
friendly smile. "Mine's Vance. How come you just transferred here?"

"My father is in the military and I have to go wherever he does. I can't
even count the times I've had to change schools. I rarely ever get to make
friends because of it."

"That sucks. I know what it's like not to have any friends though. I've
been moved from school to school because I always get bullied around so
much because of my size and stuff. Usually the teachers won't do anything
about it because they think it's just part of growing up, but it really
hurts a lot. Sometimes I think they do it because I'm smarter than them
too, but it still hurts.  Even my mom seems to think that it's 'just a
phase' and once I get a little bigger they won't bother me. But I don't
think I'm going to grow much taller or bigger than I am now. I expect that
before long you'll be on their side too, it always happens that way."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you but I don't hang around with the assholes
anymore. C'mon, let's get out of here. I'll show you where I live."

As we walked down the corridor towards the main entrance I wondered what he
meant by 'anymore.' Of course my perfect day had to be ruined when we
passed by the gym door on the way out. A few of the sophomores were playing
basketball and one of them, an up and coming bully saw me as we passed
by. As we touched the door handles and opened the doors I could hear the
gym resound with the usual names aimed at me. One in particular raised the
hair on my neck as the doors were closing.

"Whose your new boyfriend fag?" reverberated between the double doors just
as they shut.

I looked at Scott and then the tears started to well up in my eyes. Not
wanting my new friend to see me cry I mumbled, "I'm sorry," then started to
run down the sidewalk towards home. I was sure that Scott would be through
hanging around with me now so it didn't matter anyway. That's the way it
always happened. Who wanted to be seen with a fag. I ran as fast as I
could, tears streaming down my cheeks as I took a shortcut through the
woods, stopping only to make sure I wasn't being followed.

When I got home I quietly closed the door and started up the stairs to my
room. The tears had stopped by now, but my brain was in overdrive with so
many thoughts.  could hear my mother in the kitchen rustling pots and
dishes around, cooking dinner. "Is that you Vance? Dinner's ready."

"I'm not hungry. Besides, I have a lot of homework." The excuse always
worked because she'd given up on trying to figure out what was in my head a
few years ago when I'd come home crying after being tormented and bullied
around. I think the most crushing thing was that I hurt inside
emotionally...something I didn't know how to deal with; all the things that
people said to me just kept bounding around inside me and building up. I
had nobody to talk to that I thought would understand me, so when I wasn't
being harassed at school, I spent most of my time alone, often staying in
my room all weekend, lying in bed in tears. I just couldn't seem to
separate everything out into something that made sense. The more I tried,
the more depressed I got, the more depressed I got the less I felt like
trying. It was like a circle that never ended and it was driving me deeper
and deeper into my own world dark world. I was beginning to feel like the
most worthless person on the planet.

"Okay, I won't bother you." came floating up the stairs, adding to the hurt
even more. Why didn't my own mother see that I was hurting and come talk to
me?

I shut my bedroom door quietly so that I wouldn't draw any attention and
locked it, dropped my books on the desk and crawled under the covers. It
wasn't long before the tears started again. The thought of losing another
new friend was making my heart ache. Why did this have to happen to me, why
not someone else. Maybe the world would be better off without me. Nobody
seemed to care anyway, not even my own mother. I wished I had a father. He
would know what to say to me, I'm sure, but he was gone.

He was an alcoholic for years, since I was about five. My mother divorced
him when I was seven, so he left and never called or came back to see me
since then.

I dug myself under the covers, curled up in a fetal position, and cried
myself to sleep, knowing that sleep wouldn't last long.

The next morning, after a lousy night of sleep, my mother was knocking on
the door early, "It's six-thirty, time to get up and ready for school."

"I'm not going today, I don't feel good, you'll have to call the school for
me. Besides, it's Friday." Today was a big day at school with an assembly
in the morning to roust up the school for the big basketball tournament,
and there was no way I wanted to be there after what happened yesterday
afternoon. And I certainly didn't want to see Scott after what had
happened. I didn't know what he did when I ran off, but I'm sure that now
he knew I was gay he wouldn't want to hang anywhere around me. I had warned
him though. For some reason the thought of losing him as a new friend and
confidant was especially depressing and I didn't want to face him
again. When I had first seen him as he let me out of the locker I felt
something I'd never felt before about a guy and I was confused with the
feelings I had deep inside.

"All right, I'll call before I go to work. See you tonight honey."

Yeah right, thanks for coming in and finding out what the real problem was
I thought to myself as I crawled back under the covers again. Once more the
tears started to flow. I hated myself, my mother, school, Eric and his
gang, everybody...even Scott. There was no place for me to fit in. I'd
certainly heard it enough from kids at all the schools I'd been through but
this school seemed like it was the end of the road for me. I just couldn't
take it anymore. By now I'd cried so much I couldn't cry anymore. The
depression, a normal part of my life, seemed to crush me into the bed as I
slowly sat up and sat on the edge with my head in my hands. I opened up my
computer and went to my Facebook page to see what insulting remarks were on
there today. In big colored letters I read,"Vance is a fag. We hate all
fags. They should kill themselves and make the place better for all of us
normal people." Beside the comment was a picture of me hanging from a tree.

Now I was at the end of my rope. Everyone in school, no, the whole world
knew about me and could read this. They wanted me dead huh? Well, maybe if
I was dead then they'd feel different. Maybe they'd say, "Wow, we didn't
think he'd really do it," or, "we were just fooling around...we didn't mean
it." If that's what they wanted, they win 'cause I couldn't take it any
longer. No friends, nobody to talk to, nobody to understand me, no way I
could go to school...even my own mother didn't seem to care. I guess that
left only one way out. I tried to cry for myself, but I couldn't because
there was so much anger inside at everyone for doing thus to me. I'd lost
control of my own life and that had left me emotionally empty
inside. Enough so that I didn't care, even feel anything for myself or
anyone else.

After a few minutes I walked to the bathroom, took a pee and went back to
my bedroom. As I sat on the edge of my bed I remembered that my mother
still had my father's pistol 'hidden' away. Thoughts of 'what if' began to
dance around in my head. What if I was gone, who would miss me anyway?
Probably nobody. My mother...maybe for a while, but she'd get over
it. Certainly nobody at school. I sat there, the tears started to flow
again thinking about what I was contemplating and the terrible feeling that
I was all alone in the world. The more I thought about it, the easier it
became to walk into my mothers room and find the pistol and bullets. Going
back to my room I locked the door, then changed my mind and unlocked
it. Let them find me right here, serve them right. Maybe then they'd feel
sorry for causing me to do this. My emotions ran all over the place, from
anger, to fear...what if I only got wounded? In some small place in my mind
I wanted to live but I couldn't find a way out.

I put the muzzle of the gun in my mouth and felt the cold steel against the
roof and tongue simultaneously as I rested it there. Slowly I laid back on
the bed and thought again of all the things people had done to me, the
confusion I was feeling, and the need to escape it. Tears would come and go
as my anger would and as I lay there with the gun barrel in my mouth I
thought, just pull the trigger, it'll be all over. Nobody will miss
you. But I also had this nagging thought in my mind that there must be
somebody that cared, somewhere. Maybe if I just ran away...no...pull the
trigger, the same problems will just follow you. I cried, I got angry I
pulled the gun out, I put it back in. Finally I was so mentally exhausted I
put it back away and laid in bed, spent from the emotional drain of what I
had just been thinking of doing. In a sense it had given me some power back
because my life was the only thing I could control...I needed some time to
think about that.

After an hour or so I went downstairs to the kitchen. Although I felt
physically beaten down, I was a little hungry by now and wanted some
toast. I don't know why, but I found some wheat bread and threw a couple
pieces into the toaster. While I waited for it to toast the doorbell
rang. Let it ring, I didn't care, plus I was just wearing boxers. I waited,
hoping whomever it was would go away, but it rang again. My toast popped up
and as I buttered it and dropped the knife in the sink, again the insistent
damn thing went off. The door was at the bottom of the stairs and had a
thin, white curtain on it. I could see out, but anyone standing outside
couldn't see in.

As I quietly walked past the door and turned to go upstairs I saw Scott
through the curtain, ready to ring the bell again. What was he doing here?
He should be in school making new friends. I didn't want to open the door,
but the fact that he was there had me stumped and I reached for the
doorknob just as was turning to leave. I thought about just letting him
leave, but then changed my mind and opened the door.

A bit on the defensive side I was prepared for anything when I asked, "What
are you doing here? Come to tell me you don't want to be friends anymore,
pick on me a little, call me a faggot, or punch me for embarrassing you
yesterday," I asked him as he turned around and stepped back up onto the
landing of the porch. I was ready to slam the door shut if he even made any
sudden moves towards me.

"No. I wanted to apologize for not chasing after you yesterday and staying
with you. I know you must have felt embarrassed and hurt by what those guys
said, and then when I didn't even come after you it must have hurt you even
more. I'm sorry. Can we still be friends?" He had his hand extended towards
me.

Still in a defensive, angry mood, I shot right back at him. "What are you,
nuts or something? You heard what they said. I hear it all the time, plus a
lot worse. You don't need to hang around me and get the same reputation."
While he was talking I was looking at his hand, still extended towards
me. For some unknown reason I slowly grasped it and then let go.

"Thanks. Listen, when I heard that you didn't come to school today I was
worried about you, that's why I came over. I don't care what Eric, his
buddies or anybody else says, I came because I wanted to. I still want to
be friends with you."

I was in shock, maybe more like frozen with shock. "So, how about letting
me in?"

I opened the door, let him in and locked it behind him. "I was just having
some toast, you want a piece?"

"Sure, thanks. I didn't have any breakfast this morning because I went to
school early hoping to catch you before school started."

"For what?"

"I wanted to talk. Just let you know what I just told you. Can we hang in
your bedroom or do we have to stand here in the doorway?" Oh, sorry, follow
me, my room's upstairs." As we walked up the stairs I realized that I was
only wearing my boxers. As soon as I got to my bedroom I rushed to pull on
some shorts and put on a t-shirt.

"Are you embarrassed or something?"

"Um...a little, or scared, or something."

"Well don't be, I walk around the house all the time in my boxers; my mom
doesn't care and neither does my brother...he does too. We've always been
open about things like that, even my father does after being in the
military so long."

"Aren't you afraid of what someone might think?"

"Naw, why should I be. Words mean nothing, and besides, nobody ever bothers
me or my brother."

"Why's that?"

"We're both trained in martial arts. We've been doing it since we were
little kids on the different bases. Both of us are champions in our belt
divisions, although we don't mention anything about it."

"How old is your brother?

"Same age as me. You just haven't met him yet. He's in different
classes...smarter than me. His name's David and we're twins, but not
identical. You'll know him when you see him."

"There's no place to sit down except for the edge of the bed. My chair
broke a while back and I haven't replaced it yet so I do my homework on the
bed. You can sit on the bed and I'll sit on the floor."

"I'm not on the bed unless you sit up here with me, and I won't take no for
an answer?"

"Ummm...are you sure about that? You heard what everybody calls me, and I'm
sure by now you've seen the internet."

"Sit up here," he asked, patting his hand on the bed beside him.

"Okay, it's your reputation. Last chance...you sure?"

"If you don't I'm going to throw you up here."

"Okay, okay."

"That's better, now where's my piece of cold toast?"

"Here, sorry about that, you want a fresh piece? I'll go make some." I
started to get up but with both hands he pulled me back down to the bed by
my waist. I was startled, but in a way it felt good to have his hands on
me, and it seemed like he was in no hurry to remove them, but he eventually
did. "Okay, go with the cold one then. Here." I handed him a piece of my
toast and we sat there in silence, munching on cold wheat toast.

"Okay, I came here to stay with you because I like you and because I want
to make a real friend. Someone I can share things with that I can't share
with other friends. That's why I've been so persistent about following you,
trying to get to know you, then coming over here this morning. I know what
it's like a little bit to be called the same things you have, and I also
know how depressing it can be. I used to feel so alone, hurt, even
depressed because my father wouldn't defend me or even try to understand
me. 'Military men don't show emotion' he would say. 'Buck up and take it
like a man.' But I couldn't because he didn't want to hear anything I had
to say. When I got bullied in school he would say, 'you're no son of mine
if you can't take care of yourself.' That's when I talked my brother into
taking karate with me. After that the bullying started to go away as I was
able to fight, but I hated it then and still do. It's not the answer to
being bullied around. I have always hated him for not going to the schools
and talking to someone about it."

"If I tell you something, will you promise not to freak out? You say you
want to be friends, and you are the one that came over here." I was nervous
thinking of opening up to him, but after what he had just said I felt
closer and better about opening up. I had to talk to someone and Scott was
as close as anyone had ever been, literally. "I really need someone to talk
to, I mean I'm sort'a messed up about some things, and afraid."

"That's why I came over Vance. I knew you needed someone to talk to, I just
didn't know if you would. I'm a good listener."

I hung my head, waiting for something to come out of my mouth, but nothing
would. "I, um, well you see, um, ever since I was..." I couldn't breathe
and my voice was going. I didn't think I was going to be able to say
anything after all. "You want to tell me you're gay, right?" My head turned
and I looked at him. "How did you know I was trying to say that?" I had
tears in my eyes.

"Because I could tell. The signs were pretty obvious. The remarks at
school, the way the guys bully you around, the way you ran away yesterday
and tried to avoid me, and...because I'm gay too."

"REALLY! How do you know that?" I was suddenly excited again. I sat up and
moved closer to him. "I mean, I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry, but it
bothers me so much because I have all these feelings inside and don't know
how to deal with them, plus I don't have anyone to ask."

"I've known for some time now. Fortunately I had people around me who could
help me through all those feelings and help me understand who I am. Plus
the training in martial arts has given me the confidence of being
internally strong and self-assured."

"Well I'm happy for you, but I'm a mess. I was at the breaking point this
morning when I thought I had lost you as a friend.  That's why I didn't
come to school today was because I was afraid of having you tell me to get
lost. I couldn't have taken any more rejection from anyone, not even a new
friend. Can I tell you something else, real serious like, but promise you
won't say anything. You have to promise."

"I promise."

I hung my head back down in shame. "I was ready to end it all this
morning. I couldn't find any other way out after yesterday, and then the
thought of losing you, my new friend just pushed me over the edge I
guess. Mentally I'm not very good right now after all these years of being
pushed around, called names, locked in my locker and told I'm worthless and
better off dead. This morning I ended up with my father's gun in my mouth."
I was sobbing by now. "All I had to do was pull the trigger and end it all,
but I couldn't do it."

I felt an arm around my shoulder as Scott pulled me close to him. I didn't
resist. I reached my arms around his waist and clung to him as I cried. I
could hear him crying too as he laid his head down on mine.

"I'm so glad I came over and so glad you couldn't pull that trigger because
I would have lost my new friend." He was running his hand through my hair
now and trying to calm me down. In a few minutes I slowly let go and sat
up, but he kept his arm wrapped around my shoulder and sat as close to me
as he could. "I'm so sorry that everybody has treated you the way they
have. Nobody deserves it, especially you. I think you're a great guy and a
great friend to be able to trust me to open up to. My life hasn't always
been good either when it comes to the issue of being gay, so I understand
some of what you're going through. But it's okay to have those
feelings. You are who you are. Being gay is not a choice, we're born that
way."

"Then why does it hurt so much?"

"Because people are ignorant and make fun of things they don't understand,
or don't want to understand, especially when they're in a group...like
Eric. Alone they act different, but when they get together they feel
empowered, like a gang does, to pick on those that are different than they
are. It's not right and it has to stop. Teachers and school administrators
should not allow it to happen, but they know that these guys bring in the
money for their sports programs and the parents, especially most of the
father's, would not support the school programs without their jock
sports. They live their lives through their sons and it's a win at all cost
situation sometimes that pervades the school and causes people that have
the power to change things to look the other way."

"So people like me suffer. That makes me feel good. I know my mother tried
a few times to say something but the school principals would tell her it's
just boys being boys."

"See, that's about the bottom line much of the time. Several teens in
schools I've been in have committed suicide because of the same thing
you've been through. To tell the truth, that's the main reason I came this
morning. I could tell you were close to the edge because one of those teens
was a friend of mine and I didn't listen in time. I told myself that if
another friend was in the same position, I would never walk away or not
listen, and I'm so glad I came over. I really like you and don't want to
lose you as my friend, my best friend. Together we can get through this."

"I don't know what to say. Nobody has ever cared enough to go this far or
even talk this much to me. Yes, I want to be friends and no, I don't want
to give up now. But I'm still afraid of school and how to deal with the
name calling and being locked in my locker. Worse yet, I'm all over the
internet now. Have you seen it yet?"

"No, and I don't care to because it's nothing but stupid rumors meant to
hurt someone...you. For starters, you now have two friends, because my
brother won't tolerate your abuse either. So now we have our own gang."

"Is your brother gay too?"

"No, but we're very close. He's always accepted me for who I am and has
been by my side when I needed him. It's not that I can't take care of
myself, but when I need someone to talk to he understands me, doesn't
criticize me or make fun of me because I'm gay, and I am always there for
him. We're really close."

"I wish I had a brother like that, even a friend to talk to would be
good. I feel so alone all the time. That's why I wanted to end it this
morning. I feel ashamed about even telling you this because we haven't
known each other that long. I hope you won't tell anyone. If word get's out
about what I told you I will kill myself because everybody will pick on me
for not doing it the first time."

All of a sudden I could imagine what would happen if Scott said something
to someone. My stomach knotted up and I felt like throwing up. I shrunk
away from him and backed into the corner of the bed, pulling my knees up
close by wrapping my arms around them. The depression was instant. My head
dropped into my arms and I began crying. Seems like I spent a lot of my
life in this state of mind. My mind was spinning with thoughts of people
making fun of me for not going through with pulling the trigger. "Whats the
matter fag boy, chicken out, can't even do something right the first
time?"; "Hey asshole, can't 'ya even take a little ragging, pussy. Why
don't you go kill yourself. Do it right this time."

I could just hear all the things that everyone was going to hit me with and
I saw no way out, which drove me into a deeper depression. Out of
frustration I started hitting my head on the wall. I just wanted to die
right now and avoid everything.  At the thought of remembering everything I
slid off the bed, stood up and started for the door.

"Where are you headed?" asked Scott.

"I don't know and I don't care anymore," I muttered as I reached the door.

"Wait, I'm going with you. You're not going to be alone. I can tell you're
really hurting and I want to be with you."

Scott jumped up and stood in front of me, holding me from leaving. He was
looking right into my eyes, but I was looking at the floor, anger starting
to rise up from withing from the frustration of feeling so helpless. "You
can't stop me, " I said. "Yes I can; you're not leaving without me if I
have to sit on you and hold you down."

"I just want to be left alone, I can't take this any longer."

"All the more reason that I stay with you. Come on," he said as he wrapped
his arms around me, turned me around with some force, and pushed me back
into the room. With one wuick twist he flipped me back around again so we
were facing each other, then he reached up with one hand and lifted my chin
up until we were face to face, inches apart. Inside I was angry at him for
stopping me, but I was also glad that he had stopped me from leaving at the
same time. "You have beautiful eyes," he said.

"Huh?" What did that have to do with anything?

"Listen. I like you. I know you've been mistreated, abused, beaten, and had
just about every physical and emotional dart thrown at you for so long that
you feel like you are at the end of your rope. I've been there, I felt the
same way. I'm so sorry that all these idiots have done this to you," as he
stared deep into my eyes. "My heart is aching from thinking of the pain
you've suffered, more so than I have, but what has happened is in the past
and can't be changed. I promise you this though, from now on, the gay
bashing and bullying it over. From now on you have two new best friends, my
brother and I, but especially me. I really like you more than a friend. I'd
like to get to know more about you, spend more time together, go out
together, whatever you want to do. I've been needing someone in my life
too. What do you say? Can we be best friends and see where it takes us? I
guess what I'm saying in my own way is that I'm coming out finally. It's
time to stop living the lies and start living the truth beginning with
standing up with my friends, including my best friend."

"Are you sure about this? You're not just saying things to make me feel
better right now so I won't do something to myself are you?" I couldn't
believe or trust that he wasn't saying all this just to keep me from
hurting myself or ending my life knowing that I would be alone sooner or
later. "I mean, there's nothing special about me. Just a skinny, worthless
little runt that nobody cares about. Why should I believe that someone
suddenly cares about me?"

"Maybe this will help convince you," as he leaned in closer to me and
gently kissed me. Not a peck or a quick kiss, but a gently, loving kiss
that sent chills down my spine. I moved back slightly and stared into his
eyes. They were so soft looking, so caring, and so beautiful. I leaned
forward, parted my lips slightly and kissed him again, for a long time. It
felt so good as our tongues wrapped round each others', his soft lips
biting mine gently. As he pulled away he asked, "Did that help convince you
that I mean what I say?"

"It was nice. I've never kissed another guy before. It doesn't take away my
problems, but it did feel good in a different way. Can I kiss you again?"
Without even saying anything he leaned back in and kissed me harder this
time, forcing my mouth open wider with his tongue. I opened my mouth and my
tongue met his as we explored each others' mouth and lips for several
minutes. My eyes were closed, my hands wandered around his body, rubbing
his back, neck and head as we kissed. I couldn't believe that this was
happening. It felt so good and at the same time I was shaking with
emotion. Why? I didn't know.

"Come on, let's just lay down and rest for a while," he said, "maybe you
can get some sleep and let your head clear out for once. I won't leave
you. Come here," he motioned as he held my hand and crawled onto my bed,
side by side. He pulled a blanket over us as he pulled me up close to him
in a spoon position. When he snuggled up close to me I suddenly realized
that I was only wearing my boxers.

"Are you okay I'm not dressed or wearing some shorts or something?" He put
his arm around my chest and asked if I was comfortable. "I promise I won't
do anything, I just want you to know that I'm here and you can sleep safe.

"Thanks Scott. It feels so good to be close to you. You're so warm. It
feels good to be wrapped up in your arms. Thank you. I want to be with you
too. Thanks for staying with me and not letting me leave alone, again."

"It's okay. Just rest and get some sleep for now. I'll be right here when
you wake up." Scott snugged up a little tighter and in a few minutes
Vance's breathing slowed as he fell into a deep sleep.

I waited until I was sure he was sleeping, then I too fell asleep, my mind
working overtime thinking about Vance and worrying about how to get him
some professional help without compromising our new-found friendship. I
really liked him and felt stirrings inside that I hadn't felt before. The
more I touched him the more his body reacted physically. At one point, even
now, he had a partial hardon that was growing the more I tenderly stroked
his sexy body.

It's too soon for this, I thought to myself as I started to fall asleep. We
need to go slow and work a lot of emotional problems out before we can have
a relationship, but I'm committed to be there for him because I want
to...and because I really love him. I just hope that he doesn't have those
thoughts of suicide again. Maybe we should both go to counseling together.

The next thing I remember was Vance stirring about under my arm. The sun
was just starting to shine through the south facing window and I was
surprised that we had slept so long. It felt like I had slept forever, but
it had been a restful sleep with my arm around Vance, and as he sat up and
looked at me, he was thinking the same thing. A big smile slowly spread
across his face as he looked into my sleepy eyes. "What are you thinking
about handsome?" I quizzed him with a crunched up look on my face.

"Just looking at you and thinking how lucky I am to have met you at this
lousy time in my life."

"Make that both our lives," I responded. "I don't know if you believe in
fate, or whatever, but something brought us together at the right time just
for each other, and I'm happy for the first time in a long time."

"Me too," Vance replied with a smile. I think that this is the first
morning I've woken up in a long time that I'm not afraid to go to school."

I sat up against the head of the bed and pulled Vance up with me, holding
him against me as he spoke up. "I feel exactly the same way. I'm not afraid
to go to school today either for different reasons. You aren't hiding in
the closet anymore and I won't be stuffed in the closet anymore...I hope."

"No, not as long as my brother or I are around it won't happen. One of the
first things we're going to do is make sure you two get introduced
today. I'd like you to think about taking martial arts lessons with us when
you're ready. That way you'll be able to defend yourself. It's not so you
can go looking for trouble, but at least you can get out of it if neither
of us is around until the bullying stops and teachers and the
administration start paying attention to our problems. Maybe by making an
issue of it we can get policies changed and come up with some ways for
people to be held accountable for their actions. But this is a lot to think
about right now.  We haven't even climbed out of bed yet and my head is
already spinning with ideas...and I need to pee real bad!"

"Me too, let's go! How about a shower...together?" Vance suggested slyly.

"Um...sure, I think that would be great. Nice way to save water you know."

We both laughed, breaking the tension that had built up suddenly. "I've
never taken a shower with another guy, alone...naked, but I want to with
you," Scott said as he climbed out of bed. We both had morning hardons, but
I had on only my boxers and there was no mistaking the tent protruding from
the front. Scott was still wearing his jeans, but I could easily make out a
nice bulge in the front, enticing me to reach out, grab his hand and lead
him to the bathroom...the excitement of a shower together for the first
time with another guy -- on purpose -- excited me even more, making it
harder to relieve myself. It felt like trying to force water from a fire
hose through a straw, but I finished taking a piss first. I reached in and
started the shower water on warm, than waited until Scott was done.

Slowly, not really knowing how or what to do first, I began to pull my
boxers down, but Scott stopped me, reached up and began to pull my boxers
down my skinny legs slowly. As soon as they slipped past my hips they
dropped to the floor. Feeling a little bold I pulled Scott's t-shirt out of
his jeans and up over his upstretched arms, noticing his washboard abs and
hard, flat stomach. I almost lost myself then, but the anticipation of
removing the rest of his clothes pushed me on. He unbuckled his belt with
my fingers intertwined with his and I unzipped his jeans, pulling them
slowly down his hips and to the floor, revealing a tight pair of tighty
whities holding in a full pouch of manhood. As I pulled off his jeans and
socks my hands quivered as I reached up and placed my small fingers on each
side of his briefs.

I waited for a few seconds, unsure of where we were going until a pair of
arms descended down from above and grasped my hands, steadying them as we
both slowly pulled down the sexiest briefs I'd ever seen on a guy until
this point in my short, gay life. As they slowly slid down, uncovering his
rather large manhood, I pulled them right down, not wanting to wait any
longer. About seven and a half inches of the most beautiful cock thwhacked
me in the face on its way past my face where it slapped Scott's stomach
with a loud SNAP! I stared in amazement, not knowing what to do. Scott
grasped both of my hands, pplacing one on his engorged cock and the other
on his hairless, low-hanging balls. From that point nature took over my
hands and my first 'gay sex' was the most incredible experience of my life.

To hell with what people said about me. I was gay, I had my first sexual
experience, a best friend willing to 'see where things would lead us', and
I was, at least for the moment, terrifically happy.

Soon we were off to school. I'd never been happier, and for once in my
life, maybe the first time, smiling when we arrived at school together. The
first thing we did was hunt down Scott's brother at his usual hangout, the
backdoor with his buddies. He didn't smoke but his friends sure made up for
it. Such a "cool thing" to do. When we both showed up he hopped off the
railing, walked over and gave Scott a hug.

"Hey bro, wassup?" Scott asked David. We had always been close, maybe I
mentioned that before, but everyone at school already knew it, as well as
knowing that he was straight. So nobody thought anything of it. However,
when they saw me, the mood quickly changed. Scott introduced me to his
brother David. I shook his hand, keeping one eye on his friends as we
did. "Don't mind them, they're just a bunch of pussies. Any friend of
Scott's is a friend of mine."

Turning his head slightly to look at his friends he made a special emphasis
of his last remark by repeating it. "Just to make sure you heard me, ANY
FRIEND OF MY BROTHER IS A FRIEND OF MINE."

Looking back at me, David added, "Anytime you need anything don't be afraid
to ask, okay?"

"Thanks David, I really appreciate it. Anytime you need anything with term
papers of school work just let me know, I have a pretty good grade average
and would help you out with anything you need. I'm just not much of a
sports person."

I was reaching for straws of sorts by saying that, but I didn't want it to
appear that David was protecting me from these goons on purpose, although
they didn't look like they had the brains to get out of the rain
anyway. "Hey thanks bro, and thanks for the offer to help Scott...he is a
little slow." They punched shoulders and joked around as only brothers can
do until Scott stopped and asked David if he could speak to him off to the
side about something personal.

Following them as we walked away from the group I couldn't help but notice
the similarities between them. Cute butts, muscular chests, tight, narrow
waists, the wavy dark blond hair and matching blue eyes were unmistakeable
clues that they were blood brothers, and damn cute at that. Scott stopped
and looked at David.

"Listen bro, this is very serious to Vance and I. We need your help in
changing some attitudes if you will stand with us." Scott was shuffling his
feet around from a sudden nervous streak.

"Okay Scott, just come out and say it. It's obvious that you and Vance are
in love. I can see it in both of your eyes. You know I'm straight, and I'm
secure in being who I am, and I know that you're becoming secure in who you
are and I'm proud of you. I'm happy you've found someone who makes you
happy and you can count on me to be there for both of you without even
asking." David reached out and gave his brother a big hug, then walked up
to me and did the same, right in plain sight of his buddies, who were
watching us intently. They took their clue as a group from David who, by
his natural leadership abilities as well as his ability to kick the shit
out of anybody who dared to take him. I on the other hand was a little more
apprehensive when he hugged me, but I did, and held in for a moment just to
"close the deal" in front of the guys.

David turned towards his shocked buddies, then turned around and laughing,
said, "Okay you two lovebirds, don't miss class. This is great, now I've
got two bro's to pick on."

"Um...please be careful how you use that phrase 'pick on', he's had enough
of it lately from all the bullies in school," as I shot a sideways glance
at a few of the guys behind David. "I'll tell you about it later. Thanks
for your support bro. Love 'ya"

"Love you guys too. See 'ya later."

We turned and headed towards the front door as David went back to his bunch
of buddies. "What's up with the little fag boy?" one of the jocks
asked. David walked up to him, nose to nose. "If you," then looking quickly
at the rest of the jocks and back at the nose immediately in front of him,
"ever so much as say anything like that to or at him again, pick on him OR
my brother for hanging around with him, stick him in his locker again, call
him names, touch either of them, I promise you that between my brother and
I you will pay for it in ways you haven't even thought of. The bullying is
over, and that goes for anyone and everyone...no more. It's time to grow up
and act like men, not bullies, and while I've been just as responsible at
times as any one of you, I'm going to be the first one to end it. That's
all I have to say. Any questions?"

"Yeah." one of the big guys from the football team spoke up. "What's the
big deal about picking on a couple of homo fags. It doesn't do any harm,
besides, it's funny."

"You think it's funny fatso. How come you can't run the length of the
football field without taking a rest? How come we lost the last game
because you fell down and it took two guys to help you get back up porky?
What's the matter piggy, can't you stop eating like a hog, or is your whole
family the same way?"

"What the fuck you saying. If I could catch you you'd know what it's like
to be big and unable to lose this weight."

"Exactly! How do you like being picked on? How do words feel when they're
said to you 'in fun'...what's the big deal? Besides, It's funny, isn't it?
You do it to other people like Vance, whose way smaller than you because he
can't fight back, and because it's your defensive way of distracting
attention away from you. Right? RIGHT!"

"Yeah, I guess so," the player admitted. "It doesn't feel very good when
people call me names, so I get back at someone by picking on them because I
can get away with it."

"You USED to be able to get away with it, and so goes it for the rest of
you. For all I know, and I do know, some of you are struggling with
feelings of your own sexuality, so you pick on somebody who 'looks' gay to
distract attention away from your own fears of homosexuality rather than
deal with your feelings in an honest way. Sooner or later though you're all
going to have to deal with whatever things make you pick on other
people. Have any of you stopped to think that maybe, just maybe some of
your bullying could be pressure from your parents...especially your fathers
who are pushing you guys into sports so hard. Win at all costs sound
familiar?

All I can say is...deal with it because as of now I'm making it my mission
to stop the bullying in this school. You guys carry a lot of weight, no pun
intended Joe, and I'd like you to help me pull it off. Can I count on you
guys? Who will help me put a program together to present to the principal?
And in the classes"

After waiting a few minutes David had his answer.

One month later, in a required school meeting of all students, trained
professionals came in and conducted a whole day, 'hands-on' learning
experience and role playing time of learning about what really happens in
the lives of other students. They spent time talking about their home
lives, what it was like growing up, what it was like to be bullied or to be
a bully...even the teachers were involved in the eye=opening day.

At the end of the day, with tears in their eyes, most all of the students
had made new friends, signed a promise to end the bullying, and gathered
together as a group of one-minded people ready to reach out to other
schools and teach them that we're all human,,,and IT DOES GET BETTER!

As for Vance and Scott, well, they are still together having survived
school together. They both went to the same college and got different
degrees, got through the bullying in college together by the strength of
their relationship and all they'd been through, and now, ten years later,
have adopted two babies to bring up in a rough world still filled with
bigotry and hatred, but also supported by two wonderful and loving guys
that can stand on their own feet and take on whatever gets thrown at their
family. They're still madly in love with each other, lying on the bed with
their two young kids lying by their side. All's well that ends well.

"Daddy, what's faggot mean?

***********************************************************

I actually started this story before all the news broke with Tyler
Clementi's death from bullying. So in ending, I would like to dedicate it
to all those families who have lost sons and daughters by suicide from the
bullies out there who have been put on notice that their scare tactics will
not be tolerated any longer and they will be held accountable for their
actions as well as those who encouraged them.

My heart goes out to you if you are being bullied and are afraid to speak
up or talk to someone. DON'T BE! Find someone who will listen, call a
suicide hotline, fight for your life because you are worth it!