Date: Tue, 15 Dec 2015 14:12:45 -0800
From: Douglas DD DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: Rough Edges  Chapter 35

Greetings and welcome back. In this chapter, Troy works to have Phil see
for himself that maybe life doesn't suck after all.

Please remember to donate to Nifty to keep the stories flowing. This story
is mine and I retain the rights to it. It contains sex between minors. And no
matter what you read about what the boys are doing, remember to be safe
in all that you do.

CHAPTER 35
THE GRATITUDE LIST

<Larry Sanders>

While Mayfield didn't have a big supermarket, it did have a decent sized
grocery store where one could go to pick up basic food items. Big shopping
trips would mean traveling to Kentburg or Centralia. Since we just needed a
few basics, I stopped at the Mayfield Grocery to pick up some bread, milk,
and Raisin Bran. I knew that visiting the store would mean chatting with
Vern, the owner, but I didn't mind—Vern was a good guy. He was active in
the Mayfield High booster club and he sponsored numerous youth sports
teams. His ad on the left field fence at the high school ballpark had been a
part of the baseball scene for years.

"You're gonna miss Corcoran and Ecklund," he said, referring to Korey and
Chandler.

"That I will, but we've got some good kids coming up."

"That Bednarzyk kid looks pretty good for a frosh. I saw him in a couple of
JV games and he was impressive. He sure didn't panic in the state title
game."

"He still needs some seasoning, but I think he's going to be a good one."
That was pretty much the way the chat went. I enjoyed it, but I was also
happy to pay for my groceries and escape the store. I didn't get to escape
from the parking lot right away, though in a small town, you're bound to
bump into somebody. In my case it was Hunter Hawkins, who had just
parked next to my car. Hunter is a strapping six-footer and I couldn't help
feeling a slight stirring in my groin as I took in his friendly smile and his
college-boy good looks.
"Hey, coach, I thought that was your car."

"Hi, Hunter. I take it you didn't add any new dents to it."

"Nah. I tried, but I'm such a shitty driver I missed it," he chuckled. "And,
hey, congratulations on being Coach of the Year. That is so incredibly
awesome." He held out his fist and I bumped it, although I am now old-
fashioned enough to have preferred a handshake.

"Well, it was you guys who did the...," I started, modestly.

"Oh, don't give me that bullshit, coach. You led the way and you know you
led the way."

"I didn't start the Go to State Team," I reminded him.

"True, but the whole thing was starting to go nowhere until you took over as
head coach. It needed more than just us kids to make it work."

I nodded and then changed the subject. "What are you doing for the
summer?"

"Working at my dad's store." Hunter's father, Allen, owns the sporting
goods store in Centralia. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Ask away."

"It's pretty personal."

"Would you rather ask in a more private place than a parking lot?"

He thought about that for a couple of seconds and then said, "No, this is
okay. I doubt that the place is bugged."

"So, what's on your mind?"

"Well, coach, I've been thinking about this for a while. I guess seeing you
here in the parking lot...well...it gives me a chance to ask a question."

"Hunter, just quit beating around the bush and ask."

"When did you know for sure you were gay?"

"When I was twelve and in seventh grade."

"That soon?"

"Maybe sooner. I suspected it, but it was in seventh grade that I knew
without a doubt."

"When did you first fall in love?"

Hunter didn't hesitate asking his questions. He'd never been one to beat
around the bush once he got on a roll. He played sports the same way—
once he got warmed up, he laid everything on the line. In fact, it was also
how he went about sex.

"And your reason for asking is?"

"Just curious, I guess. I don't know if I'm gay. I've been dating some girls at
school, but, you see, I think I'm in love."

I had a feeling I knew where this conversation was heading, especially after
some of the things I was told at State. "Which of those girls have you fallen
for?" I asked, although I already knew the answer.

"Some girl named Kraig...and I guess that's what confuses me."

"Well, I fell in love in seventh grade and I've only been in love once."

"You were twelve. How could you know you were in love, coach?"

"Because it was the only thing that could explain my behavior and my
feelings. It was also the only thing that could explain Phil's as well."

"By Phil, you mean Coach Miller, right?"

"Right."

"Damn, I knew you guys have known each other for a while, but not since
you were fucking twelve...er...excuse my French, coach."

"It's excused. I will tell you this much. I don't know if it will end your
confusion, but it worked for me, even back then."

Hunter gave me an inquisitive look, as if I was about to unlock the secrets
of the universe—or at least the secrets of love, which may be the same
thing.

I gave Hunter my best smile and said, "Follow your heart."

"If I followed my heart, that would mean that I am gay."

"Would that be a terrible thing?"

"Let me ask you this coach," Hunter replied.

"I see, it's the old answer a question with a question trick."

Hunter grinned and went on. "If being gay isn't such a terrible thing, then
how come you and Coach Miller haven't gotten married? I mean you've
known each other for fucking ever." This time there was no apology for the
expletive.

College kids, I thought. It can be damned hard to get something past
them—almost as hard as high school kids. "If you put it that way, it's a
question I can't answer."

Hunter got one of those oh-I get-it-now looks on his face. "Then I guess I
don't feel so bad about not having things figured out." He gave me a quick
and surprising hug. "Thanks for talking to me coach. Don't forget to mail me
an invitation to the wedding, and I'll see you at the Bear next week." He
walked off toward the store, leaving me admiring his athletic ass and
thinking about Phil, me, seventh grade, and the time on the bus that Phil
told me, "Because life sucks."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

When Phil boarded the bus on Thursday morning I knew something was
wrong. His eyes were bloodshot and he had dark circles around them.
When I saw Keegan, I knew exactly what had happened last night—the two
of them had gotten stoned together.

I didn't bother to greet him. "You look like shit," I said bluntly.

"So?"

"You're acting like shit, too."

"Live with it."

"Why are you being such a bitch?"

"Because life sucks."

"And why does life suck?"

"Because people like you are in it and keep butting into my business."

I tried hard not to show him how crushed I was by his bitchiness. "You're
the one who said life sucks...I just wanted to know why."

He turned and looked the other way as if whatever there was to see out of
the window across the aisle was more interesting than the person who was
sitting on his right side, namely me. I can be a stubborn asshole at times,
and this was one of them. I wasn't going to let him get away with ending the
bus ride giving me the silent treatment.

"Are you still coming to my house after school?" We had soccer practice
after school and he always came to my house on practice days.

He turned and gave me a blank stare. "I plan on being sick after school." I
might be stubborn, but I wasn't stupid either; it was time to end the
conversation.

I drifted through the day, barely concentrating on school. I knew Phil was
upset about his father coming back, which is probably the opposite of how
most boys would feel about seeing their father again after a year's
absence. But I couldn't understand him going into the toilet over it. I
decided I didn't know Phil as well as I thought I did and that our friendship
maybe wasn't the kind of friendship I thought it was.

Phil didn't sit with the Wonkeys during lunch, a fact that was not missed.
The Wonkeys couldn't all sit together because Ben and Tyson had first
lunch while the rest of us had second lunch. While I missed them, their not
sitting with us was a part of middle school life. Phil not sitting with us was
like a slap in our faces.

"What's eating Phil?" Q asked as we started eating.

"I think it's about his dad," I said.

"Is he coming to practice?" Jung asked.

"I don't think so."

"Sometimes he's the greatest guy in the world, and sometimes he's a total
asshole," Q said.

"I like him a lot when he's being good," Daniel said. He spoke for all of us.

Phil didn't sit with any of us on the bus after school. He sat next to a girl
and made a point of starting a conversation with her. His message to us
was pretty clear—he wanted nothing more to do with our sex play.

I told the coach at soccer practice that Phil was sick and couldn't make it. I
had made up my mind to cover for him through Sunday's game, but after
that he was on his own.

<Phil Miller>

It had been a long time since I'd been as mad at the entire world as I was
that Thursday. I ignored the Wonkeys at lunch and on the bus ride home. I
sat next to Hope Ellis who was in my core class. I tried being friendly just to
show all the gay Wonkeys what I really felt. Hope treated me like I was
some insect that had landed on the seat next to her. The bitch pissed me
off more than the Wonkeys did.

I got off at my usual stop with Ben, Keegan, Skyler, Carlos, and a few other
kids.

"Did you get it?" Keegan asked.

"Yeah, I got it." I had spent what I'd saved of my allowance on more weed.
Keegan got me hooked up with Roger who got me hooked up with a
baggie.

I thought only Keegan and I would be using it, and found my mood getting
even darker when Skyler and Carlos followed us into our house.

"What the fuck are you assholes doing here?" I barked. "I didn't spend my
money to get you guys high."

"Chill out, Phil," Skyler said, "we brought our own."

Skyler also brought a bong and the four of us were soon sitting on the
couch getting stoned. Before I had my first hit, I briefly wished I was going
to soccer practice with Larry and the Wonkeys. Then I thought, Fuck `em,
and took the hit. As often happens, being high got us horny, which got us
naked, which had us beating our meat in front of each other.

"Phil sucks cock really good," Keegan slurred sleepily as he took another
hit.

"Shut up," I growled.

"You can suck mine," Skyler mumbled. "I like having my dick sucked."

"Fuck you."

"Do it," Keegan rasped.

"I ain't queer." I guess I didn't believe what I said, because I found myself
on my knees between Skyler's legs with his cock in my mouth. He has a
nice one, I thought, as I sucked his near five inch cut cock and my nose
tickled itself on the pubic hairs growing on its base. Carlos and Keegan sat
to either side of us, busily beating off as they watched me give Skyler a
blow job. While I had a boner, I didn't do anything with it—I just let it throb
as I sucked and licked Skyler's cock.

It didn't take long for the cum to flow. Carlos was the first one to shoot, his
fist pumping his fat cock until his seed coated his belly and pubes. Skyler
held my head and face-fucked me to a noisy orgasm. I swallowed his
emission, getting no particular pleasure from it.

Carlos handed me the lit bong and I took a hard hit. I kneed myself away
from Skyler over to Keegan and draped myself across him. We kissed each
other, bringing derisive comments from Skyler and Carlos, but we were
stoned enough that we didn't care. I humped my cock across his, our
sweaty torsos sticking together. I kissed and sucked my brother's neck,
creating a hickey. He moaned and I felt his cum shooting out, the wetness
lubricating our bellies as my cock slid across him until seconds later my boy
seed mixed with his teen seed. I drooled over his chest as I recovered from
my orgasm.

Somehow the bong ended up with me again. I took a hit, felt the room spin
around me, and then stood up, standing shakily on my feet. "This is so
fucked," I mumbled and I stumbled to my bedroom, collapsing on Troy's
bed.

I slept, tripped out, and found myself on some other planet until Troy came
home and found me naked on his bed. He dumped his books on the
dresser, waking me up.

"What the fuck," I said groggily, "can't a guy get some sleep around here?"

"We'll talk about it later," Troy snapped. He was savvy enough to know that
talking to me in my condition would be fruitless. "I ran your buddies outta
here, thankfully before mom got home. I don't think she'd appreciate seeing
three naked boys covered with spunk laid out on the floor and the couch.
Now she'll only find Keegan."

I rolled over, showing my back to Troy. "You can get out of my bed any
time," Troy said.

"There's an empty bed in the room."

"Yes there is, and you're either going to walk over to it or I'm gonna dump
you on it."

"Do it." And he did, lifting me up in his strong arms and tossing me onto my
bed, causing me to break out in giggles. I wanted to feel my big brother's
strong body and I got my wish. But I wasn't surprised when he didn't let me
sleep with him.

<Larry Sanders>

Phil looked even worse on Friday than he had the day before. Once again
he made a show of ignoring us, and we returned the favor. It was like Phil
had returned to his worst days in sixth grade.

As the weekend started, mom asked me how Phil was feeling. I said he
was still kind of sick. I think she was a bit skeptical as she asked me how
he was healthy enough to go to school but not for soccer.

"He's just not supposed to exercise hard," I lied.

"Is he at least going to watch your game on Sunday?"

"His dad is coming home on Sunday." At least this time I was telling the
truth. Phil would have probably missed Sunday's game no matter how the
rest of his life was going.

"I don't know if that is a good thing or not," mom muttered, surprising me
with her bluntness.

We won our Sunday game 4-2, even without Phil in the goal. Just like Phil
had fallen in love with being a catcher, he fell in love with being a keeper.
Phil never called to find out how the team did or to tell us his father was
home. My friendship with Phil seemed to be ending as quickly as it had
started.

He wasn't on the bus Monday morning and he never showed up for school.
On the bus ride home Q was his usual bubbly self. I felt like telling him to
shut the fuck up, but deep inside I knew that his blathering was what I
needed at the moment.

"Ji-min and Hyun-woo watched me and Jung jerk off in his room on
Saturday," Q whispered, trying to get me out of my own funk. Ji-Min was
Q's fourteen-year-old sister, while Hyun-woo was his younger sister, who
was eight. "I could do it with Ji-min any time and I think she has the hots for
me. Jung thinks she'd do it with me."

"Were they naked?" I asked mechanically as we pulled up to our bus stop.

"Hell, we were all naked," Q grinned.

He and Jung walked with me to my house and we forgot about sex and got
down to doing homework. About a half-hour before they had to leave, we
forgot about homework and got down to talking about sex. While what Q
and Jung chattered on about was very sexy, it didn't bone me up.

"Perry got a boner in PE today," Jung said.

"Too bad we don't have the boner punishment this year," Q lamented. The
Wonkeys had agreed to drop the boner punishment at lunch since all of us
no longer sat together.

 "I need to jerk off," Jung said.

"Are you good with us all doing it?" Q asked me. "You've been pretty quiet."

"I'm good, but mom's got dinner cooking," I told them. I really didn't want to
jerk off with them right then, but if they'd insisted, I probably would have
given in.

"Damn the bad luck—maybe we can get together tomorrow after practice
and do it," Jung said.

"Yeah, we can do it at Jung's house and have an audience," Q grinned.

Neither Q nor Jung could stay for dinner that evening, and the weird night
that was about to unfold for me made my Tuesday plans much different
than I'd anticipated.

<Phil Miller>

Keegan and I went to Troy's football game Friday night with mom. Keegan
was almost normal and I guess you could say that I was, too. Troy was
starting varsity as a junior, playing wide receiver on offense. He played
safety on defense sometimes, but not on that night. He caught three
passes, one for a touchdown, as Evans High, his school, won 27-14.

Troy spent the night with a teammate after the game. I jerked off when I
went to bed, wondering if he and his teammate were bed buddies. They
certainly were in my jack off fantasy.

Keegan got high Saturday afternoon, but I was tired of being wasted. I think
getting high and having sex with Skyler reminded me of what a waste of
time being stoned was. Also, I had received poor work notices along with
the standard accompanying lecture from two of my teachers.

Maybe it was time for me to quit being stupid and get back to work. I
decided to change one thing starting Sunday, however. I was going to quit
soccer, quit hanging around with the Wonkeys, and work on finding me a
girlfriend. I was done with the whole gay sex scene. As far as I was
concerned I had outgrown it.

In spite of those feelings, when the lights went out Saturday night, I padded
across the bedroom and slid under Troy's covers. I was pleased that he
made no attempt to push me away.

"Time for us to talk," he whispered.

"About what?"

"Like you don't know. If I were you I'd have mom sign those poor work slips
in the morning before dad comes home. Those are not what he wants to
see his first night back in a year."

"How do you know about those?" I asked.

"You left them in your math book, which you left on the kitchen table when
you decided to return to the real world and study."

"Shit," was all I could think to say. Troy had this way of finding out about
everything.

"Dad's coming home shouldn't have you all that upset. His issue is with
Keegan, and maybe me. He seems to ignore you as much as anything."

"Yeah, but it's when he doesn't ignore me that things get shitty. Besides,
who wants to be ignored by their own fucking father?"

Troy pulled me snugly against him. I liked that he was naked, just like I
was. "Believe me, I know that bro. But, I think there's more to your behavior
than just dad."

"Life sucks," I told him.

"That's it? You spend the week being stupid and getting stoned because
life sucks?"

"It's a good reason."

"I thought you were smarter than that, bro. Jeez, how long have we been
talking about taking care of the shit you can control and not worrying about
the rest?"

I sighed. All I wanted was for my big, strong brother to hold me and what I
was getting instead was another one of his lectures. "Well, I got things to
worry about," was all I could think to say.

"Like what?"

"I dunno...stuff."

"Well, when you figure it out, let me know."

"Can we have sex?" I asked, moving the entire conversation to a different
level.

"Yeah, if you promise me something."

"What?"

"In the next couple of days I am going to give you an assignment, and you
have to promise to do it,"

"What are you, my teacher or something?"

"I'd say yes to that. So, promise me for a blow job."

"You're as bad as Keegan sucking and fucking for drugs."

"Promise me."

"What's the assignment?"

"Promise me." Troy raised his voice. `PROMISE ME!"

"Fuck, you're cold, man, just totally cold. Okay, I promise. Now what is it?"

"I'll tell you when I give it to you." He gave my boy cock a squeeze. "It feels
like you're not ready for any action."

"So, make it ready," I grinned.

He did just that by sucking me off to my best orgasm in over a week. When
I recovered, I returned the favor. For a guy who wants to get away from all
the cock sucking and shit, you sure like it a lot, I thought to myself. I don't
think I let go of Troy all night, and he didn't seem to mind that at all.

The next afternoon we went to McChord Air Force Base to meet dad's
plane. When we saw him, we acted happy to see him, and he acted happy
to see us. We went out to dinner at the Sizzler Steak House and had one of
those rare moments where we acted like a real family. I knew that wasn't
going to last when dad picked up a couple of cases of beer on the way
home.

Keegan seemed to be the only one of us brothers to be truly happy to see
dad. He made sure to sit next to him at the restaurant. He went into the
super market with him when he bought his beer. He stayed within a few
feet of him at home.

Mom served up some apple pie and ice cream and we ate at the kitchen
table. The chat at the table was friendly as we asked dad to tell us about
what he did in Korea and he asked us about how our lives were going.

We watched TV for a while. Mom headed for bed at around eight, saying
she was feeling tired. As soon as she was gone, Keegan headed for dad's
recliner and sat in his lap.

"Damn, you're getting too heavy for that, son," dad grinned.

"When are we gonna drink that beer?" Keegan asked.

"Right about now sounds good. I've been looking forward to cold beer the
whole fucking long trip home. How about you getting your ass off my lap
and get a couple of cold ones." Keegan got up, but dad stopped him.

"What about you two boys?" he asked. "Are you ready to join your brother
and me and become men?"

"I still have some homework to do," Troy said.

"Yeah, me too," I echoed.

"Fucking pussies.  I have sons who are fucking pussies. Phil, you're twelve,
right?"

"If you say so." Fucker couldn't even keep track of my birthdays.

"Keegan was a championship drinker when he was twelve. Time for you to
join him."

"I gotta do my homework." I trailed Troy out of the living room while Keegan
headed for the kitchen to get beer.

"That's why life sucks," I told Troy as we secured ourselves in our bedroom.

"You'll have homework from me tomorrow night," was all he said.

We finished our school homework and then I went down to tell dad
goodnight. What I wanted to say was, "Welcome home, would you try to be
my father please?" but I simply said goodnight. He was on his recliner
drinking while Keegan was on the couch doing the same. They were both
stripped down to t-shirts and boxers, the very model of male comfort. It
sure didn't take long for things to get back to what passed as normal at our
house. The next night was going to change that, however.

It all started when we sat down for dinner. I was hoping we'd do what we
often did and have dinner in the living room watching TV. Instead we ate at
the kitchen table. That was when dad dropped his bombshell.

"We're going to be moving," dad said. "I got my orders today for Ft. Hood in
Texas."

Four of us chimed in at once.

"Cool, when do we leave?" Keegan asked.

"No fucking way!" I shouted.

"Ain't happening!" Troy shouted louder.

"Your family is staying right here," mom said in a normal voice.

The uproar stopped instantly and four sets of eyes turned to see if the lady
at the table was really our mother.

"Sorry woman, but the choice isn't yours."

"First, I am not your woman, I am your wife. Second, you're right, the
choice isn't mine...," she looked us all over, "...the choice is ours."

"It ain't a choice, it's the way it is."

"My best friends ever all live here," I said, surprising myself with what I'd
just said.

"I'm playing varsity football as a junior," Troy said. "No way I'm moving—I'm
gonna graduate from Evans High School."

"I want to go with you and learn to be a man," Keegan said, surprising none
of us.

Dad pounded the table, ignoring Keegan. "This is my house, and I say we
move...all of us." He glared at mom. "Just how do you plan on supporting a
family?"

"The same way I have been. I have a job, and you send us money."

"Ain't gonna happen. I was deployed then, but now I don't have to send you
shit because you can move with me."

"I've already looked into it. You will be sending us a monthly allowance."

I have to say I was impressed by mom—she'd changed a lot since going to
her meetings and getting off those pills, just like Troy had changed by going
to his meetings.

"We'll see, we'll fucking see," was all dad could say. He left the table saying
he was going to the tavern.

"You never said I could come live with you," Keegan whined.

"Why would I want to deal with a kid," dad sneered. "That's what your mom
is for."

Keegan's jaw dropped and he left the table and chased after dad, who
pushed him away. I'd lost my appetite and got up as well. But something
tugged at me and I turned to mom and gave her a hug. "Thanks, mom," I
whispered. Troy did the same thing and then followed me to our room.

"This is all so fucked," I said, holding back tears. "I told you life sucked.
Everything sucks. There is no way I am moving. I'll run away first."  Once
again I surprised myself. I was realizing what kind of friends I really had.
They were friends I didn't want to lose, which means they must be pretty
good friends. Fuck `em, I thought, they weren't the ones who were going to
keep my family together. I had quickly forgotten how good things had been
around home while dad was gone. My mind was a total jumble.

I started for the bedroom door.

"Where are you going?" Troy asked.

"If I was Keegan I'd be getting high. And if I was me I'd be doing the same
thing."

Troy grabbed me and dropped me on his bed. He didn't even bother to
respond to my statement, saying instead: "It's homework time—my
homework."

"Fuck your homework."

"You promised to do it."

"Yeah, because you bribed me." I stood up again, but he pushed me back
down.

"You're not going anywhere, so just sit."  He took a blank piece of paper off
of the desk along with a pencil. "You can sit there on the bed and use a
book to write on, or you can sit here at the desk and do it the easy way."

"Fuck," I muttered. "Fuck" in all of its forms seemed to have become the
focal point of my vocabulary. I got up from the bed and sat at the desk. "So,
tell me what to do, teacher, so I can finish and join Keegan and get
wasted."

"I want you to write ten things you are grateful for."

"That is total bullshit. Ten things? I can't even think of one in this fucked up
family. Okay, I can think of one...I'd be grateful if you left me alone."

"Ten," he repeated. "The quicker you start, the quicker you're done."

Well, it took me ten minutes to write the first thing. I wrote that I was
grateful I had dinner tonight. I sat for another five minutes hoping Troy
would decide to ease off and let me go. I mean even an idiot could see I
wasn't going to finish Troy's assignment, and Troy was smarter than an
idiot, so he should have it all figured out.

That gave me an idea and I wrote that I was grateful that Troy wasn't an
idiot. Then I wrote I was grateful that he was my brother and that he loved
me. I started scratching things out and got seven things on my list.

I went on—I was grateful I was on a soccer team. I mentioned being
grateful for my teammates. That was when it all got weird, or I got weird—
well, something got weird.

I wrote "Larry is my friend" on my list of things to be grateful for.
Underneath that I wrote "Larry likes me," which wasn't what I really wanted
to write.  Underneath that I wrote "I like Larry." I started to feel a welling of
emotion. What I really wanted to write was something stronger, but I was
afraid to write it. I'd thought of what I wanted to write, I'd even said what I
wanted to write, but now I couldn't write what I wanted to write.

"Troy?"

Troy was sprawled on his bed reading a history assignment. "Yes, bro?"

"Do I have to absolutely positively believe something is true to write it on
my list?"

"Sport, quit trying to overthink this. Thinking too much is what gets you into
most of your funks. Just write what you're grateful for, and chances are you
are writing about things as they are right now."

"I have to live in the moment, right?"

"Exactly. I think you may be starting to get it."

I tapped my pencil on my chin and finally took the chance. I wrote the entire
sentence out so there would be no doubt about what it was I was grateful
for. "I am grateful that Larry loves me." I started to feel teary eyed again
and had no idea why.

I needed to write the second part of that. I knew that part was true, even if I
wasn't sure I could be grateful for something I was feeling. "I am grateful I
love Larry."

"You seem to have quite a list going," Troy observed. "Definitely a lot more
than ten things."

I said nothing. I was afraid if I blinked tears would start to drip down my
cheeks. I wrote the third part very slowly. "I am grateful Larry is my best
friend."

Everything I'd been denying since my first sexual experiences with Larry
welled to the surface. Everything I had said wasn't true about me was now
right at the front of my mind telling me it was true. I started to lose control
and felt a tear fall down my cheek. I knew I had to change the last
sentence—I knew it was time for the truth and for what, deep down, I was
completely grateful for.

When I look back to that experience at the desk in my bedroom with Troy's
list, I have to wonder how much my thoughts then were as I remember
them and how much were how I wanted to remember them. I think it was
the former. If it is possible for a twelve-year-old to have an epiphany, well
then I was having one. But then, it had to be possible, because I was
having a life-changing experience right there in my bedroom, with my
brother a couple of feet away from me, as I wrote about the things in life I
was grateful for.

If I wrote the third thing that was on my mind right then, it would make
everything I said wasn't true about me become the truth. The truth would
be in front of me in bl ack-and-white. Not only that, but it would be on a list
of things I was supposedly grateful for. My body shook with a flood of
emotion.

"Are you okay, bro?" Troy asked.

I ignored him. I looked at the last sentence: "I am grateful Larry is my best
friend." I scratched out the word "best". Then I slowly wrote the three letters
that sent my life in an entirely new direction. On top of the scratched out
word, one slow letter at a time, I wrote "b-o-y." Then I put my head down on
the desk and bawled like a baby.

Next: This Must Be Love