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Jeremy sighed. "You'd think that as secretary of a San Francisco high school GSA, I'd be getting more action than this." It was the first day back from the winter break of his senior year. "I've been out since I was a freshman, I've got a semester left, and nothing. Not a single fucking thing. No dorks, dweebs, perverts, pedophiles, or closet-queens to play with."
"Word on the playground is you're a cold hearted, straight-man lovin', Barbara Streisand obsessed eunuch." Domenic chided as he bit into a baby carrot.
Jeremy simply glared and rolled his eyes.
"I mean, come on Dom, when was the last time you slept with a guy?"
"That depends...does the word "slept" constitute actual sleep afterwards? Cause I sort of took a nap in Physics after I met Bobby in third. But a physics nap is hardly sleep."
" Dom, you're such a fag."
" I love you too sweetheart"
"I have yet to sleep with someone. Not one fucking queer has given me the time of day. The last person to even TOUCH me with the slightest sign of lust was Lois. Let me tell you, was that girl ever disappointed."
"Hah, yeah, poor girl came cryin--oh hell. That bell never seems to let me get a single coherent sentence out."
Domenic popped the last baby carrot into his mouth and started towards the door with his natural sway. Jeremy, feeling defeated and fat, picked up the last of the chocolate gem donuts he'd been eating and popped it into his mouth, following Dom, mocking his walk and posture behind his back with an impression that made Jeremy look more like a newborn drag queen.
"Knock it off Jer." Domenic said. He didn't even have to look back to know he was being poorly mocked, it was part of the daily routine.
They walked down the hall together towards Domenic put his arm around Jermey's neck, bringing him down in a near-headlock, making Jeremy stumble as they walked.
"Jer, you have to put yourself out on the market if you want some guy to come along and buy your goods. Fact is, for fairies at least, life is NO fairy-tale, and even if it were, my love, you are NO Cinderella. Prince Charming just ain't coming sweetness, so move on."
Domenic let Jeremy go, and almost flung him halfway down the hall towards his own class as he moved just his fingers in the typical hello/goodbye wave.
Jeremy staggered to keep himself from falling to the floor in the middle of the hall in what would have been a much more embarrassing encounter. He just didn't understand how Domenic could be so masculine one minute, walking through the hall with this lithe figure dragging along in his arm in a headlock one minute, and be so flamboyant the next with that horrible wave.
The rest of the day dragged on as usual, not enough education or excitement to ever make school seem worth going to, and too much homework.
Jeremy sighed, hauling his own lifeless carcass through the empty halls towards the newspaper room. As long as he could remember, Jeremy had been stuck with the mindless task of being the Sports editor. At first the advisor had thought it would toughen him up and maybe get him interested in some more "manly" activities, but after being proved wrong in a single semester, Jeremy thought his advisor did it out of pure spite. Jeremy kept the position, hoping someone else would want it soon enough, but it simply never happened. All of the other editors were either girls, or guys whose sole purpose for joining newspaper was to get TO the girls.
After school hours spent on the paper were usually reserved for the week before publication, but the advisor had called a meeting to discuss fund raising opportunities. As Jeremy neared the classroom, one of the female editors turned the corner going much too quickly and knocked Jeremy flat onto the floor.
"Oh Jesus fucking Christ Jeremy, not only do you miss the meeting, but you scare the crap out of me and make me drop all of my stuff too."
Rachel picked up her papers off the floor as someone he hadn't met before helped Jeremy up.
"Gee, nice to see you too Rach. And might I ask who the hell this is?"
"Its my brother Stephen dipshit. You've met him twice before."
"Holy shit..." Jeremy murmured to himself. "He used to be little? What the hell happened?"
"Its called puberty, moron." Rachel snapped as she pushed Jeremy aside, off of the papers he'd been standing on. "He's a sophomore, transferred in from the Catholic School." Stephen just nodded and gave Jeremy a half-smile before helping Rachel with her things.
Jeremy picked up the last of Rachel's papers and handed it to her, before he noticed the hearts drawn all over it.
"Oh no Rachel, tell me that's not another senseless love letter to some closet case."
"Its not, you ass. It's the fundraiser Simmons wants us to run."
"What?"
"Mr. Simmons wants some of the editors to collect Valentines Day messages from people to be published in the paper that week. We're supposed to have them fill out these forms and collect money based on the number of words or the amount of space it takes up. Its never going to fly. No one ever buys into this crap."
"Just as long as ..."
"I know what you're going to say Jer, just as long as you don't have to sell any, right? Well you don't have to worry about it. Tiffany and Jennifer practically sold their bodies to Simmons to get themselves at the forefront of this disaster. No doubt their boyfriends will be the ones doing all the real work."
Jeremy walked into the house, drenched. The apartment he lived in was just about a mile and a half from the school, but without a car in the pouring rain or scorching heat, the walk was a regularly scheduled living hell.
His parents had kicked him out just after he came out to them, and though his grandmother disapproved of his lifestyle, she kept a roof over his head by sending him checks every month with the same note on the bottom:
"Love the sinner, hate the sin."
He would have thrown them away, had he not desperately needed them. Living alone should have been a welcomed reprise from the clamor of school, but it never failed to depress him. He'd taken a habit to walking in the door, throwing his keys onto the bed and saying to no one but the emptiness, "Live alone, die alone." Before flopping down face first onto the mattress. With no phone, no television and no computer, the evenings were fairly routine and mundane. Jeremy came home, ate, did some work, read, and went to sleep.
But tonight, like many before it, he simply couldn't. He lay awake in bed, staring at the stains on the ceiling, hearing his next-door neighbors headboard slamming rhythmically against the wall. He'd been fucking the same woman for half a year now, always the same time of night, always the same rhythm, and yet among all the audible voyeuristic observances of orgasm, he never heard her have one. He was married, in his 40's and had 3 kids. She was 13.
Usually Jeremy could sleep through this, learning to let the rhythm lull him to sleep, but tonight, he lay alone in bed, quietly sobbing, holding his legs to his chest.
Time passed quickly, as Jeremy had hoped it would. A month had passed since he spoke to Domenic about how alone he'd felt. Nothing changed of course, but after that night Jeremy couldn't bring himself to complain about it any more. Domenic hardly noticed. Each day was filled with menial conversation, who slept with who, which teacher is being a bitch, how fat so-and-so is getting, and how bloated they each felt. The boys had been friends since they each joined the GSA as freshmen, but never felt anything more than friendship for one another. Domenic was president, Jeremy was secretary. The veep was some hopeless fashion emergency of a lesbian who seldom said anything, but occasionally lent a horrifying guttural laugh to the mix of conversation at meetings. No one else ever showed up, and on average the veep spent most of her time zoned out listening to the Beastie Boys on her CD player while sketching "anime babes" in her notebook.
"Ugh, S.A.D. is coming up. I only hope the cut back the Sports section to accommodate the ads the girls are selling." Jeremy complained as watched Domenic stab lightly at his salad.
"'Sad'? What the hell do you mean `Sad is coming up'?"
"S.A.D. loser. S-A-D? Singles Awareness Day?"
"Oh fuck you. Not another rant about how much dick you're not getting on Valentines Day, Jeremy."
Jeremy grabbed his bag and swung it over his shoulder and started storming out of the room.
Domenic looked on after him and said to the near-comatose veep, "I don't know what that bitch's problem is."
Jeremy swung around in a rage.
"My PROBLEM? My problem is that I haven't said a single WORD to you about how alone I've been in over a month. Over a fucking month! Not since the day we got back from break."
"Jeremy. Don't be a drama queen. You may not have said anything, but it's been written on your face and on your posture and on your sad-ass imitation of fashion since the day I met you. I told you. Prince Charming isn't going to come looking. You have to market your scrawny ass if you want to get anywhere in life."
Jeremy turned around and left. Just as he was leaving the room someone ran into him, body-slamming him and knocked him to the floor in the middle of the busy hallway.
"Son of a bitch." Jeremy said as he sat himself up. He looked up to see Rachel's brother Stephen standing infront of him, lending a hand to help him up. "What is it with people in your family knocking my ass to the ground? Between class transition periods are not supposed to be full contact sports. Do I need to start wearing a cup?"
Stephen just grinned. He was the size of a football player, but never said a word. He just handed Jeremy his things and walked away.
Jeremy limped on towards class, finding himself there a full 10 minutes early. Being early was never good, with nothing else to do, Jeremy laid his head down on his desk and fell asleep for the entire period. He woke up to find a detention slip taped to his forehead. As the warning bell rang, Jeremy grabbed his things and headed out. The entire day seemed to be getting progressively worse. His economics teacher had decided to give an open-book pop quiz, and Jeremy was without his textbook. He had to serve detention that day after school or risk a second day, even though he told the administrator in charge he had to get to newspaper, as the deadline was this week. No dice.
When detention was finally over, Jeremy ran towards the newspaper room, only to find his advisor, Mr. Simmons standing with his arms crossed, leaning up against the doorway.
"Jeremy. You're fired." Simmons said calmly as Jeremy came to a halt infront of the room.
"What? What the hell for?"
"You've missed countless meetings, are late on the week of deadline, don't volunteer for fundraisers, and have never been enthusiastic about your position."
"I'm GAY for Christ sake. You want me to drool over the chance to smell body odor off of acne-infested football players every week? What the hell do you want from me?"
"That really doesn't matter any more, now does it?" Simmons said, as he turned his back toward Jeremy and walked into the room.
"Fuckin' son of a bitch." Jeremy said as he walked out of the building.
He didn't even bother to go to school the next day, fearing a fate worse than the last.
Finally it was Friday, and Jeremy had to go to class. It was Friday the 13th, the day before Valentines Day, the last newspaper his work would touch was coming out, and he had 3 different exams to get done that day. Luckily, the day off had given him time to cool down and to get some studying done.
The day went off, more or less without a hitch. It was calm, though annoying, as couples and candy littered the halls. Jeremy went in to apologize to Domenic, who thanked him, but quickly went on to brag about which of his admirers had given him what. The veep, for once, looked happy, and was without notebook sketches or CD player, as she silently showed us a giant heart-shaped card from a girl who'd been admiring her. Everyone seemed so cheerful, it was almost infectious.
Jeremy decided to go and apologize to his teacher for sleeping through the entire class, but as soon as he stepped out of the room, he was met with the familiar sensation of cold hallway tile underneath him. Stephen coughed into his shoulder before helping Jeremy up and handing him his things, smiling a bit differently than usual. Jeremy decided that this must have been some sort of cruel initiation sort of thing for new football players. Jeremy walked into class and set his things down when he noticed a copy of the newspaper among his stuff. Thinking little of it, Jeremy supposed Stephen must have accidentally put one with his things when he helped Jeremy up.
Jeremy apologized to his teacher and went through the rest of the day feeling rather pleasant. The good mood of the day was rather infectious after all, and this Friday the 13th had oddly turned out much better than his Wednesday the 11th. The sun was shining, but it wasn't unpleasantly hot outside. Jeremy walked home and suddenly remembered that he hadn't read the paper at all. Jeremy pulled it out of his bag and flipped to the page where his last sports section should have been.
Jeremy stopped and stood agape. The sports section was missing, but in its place, a full page Valentines Day ad had been taken out.
A man stood in the background picture, masked in shadows, showing only a dark, muscular profile smelling a rose. The words were clear and definite. The ad was from Stephen...and was to Jeremy.
Jeremy walked home in utter disbelief. It must have been some sort of joke, a part of Stephen's initiation.
When he arrived home he saw Stephen leaning against his doorway, silent, with only a loving grin.