This story is a work of fiction. It depicts a romance between two consenting adult males and may contain some descriptions of sexual acts, again between two consenting adult males. If you are not of legal age to read this kind of story, please leave now. If you reside in an area where reading stories that include sexual situations between two consenting adult males is illegal, please leave now. This story is for entertainment purposes only. Any similarity to any person(s) living or dead is simply a coincidence. The author retains all rights to this story. It cannot be reproduced in any form without expressed written permission from the author (me). Please contact the author for any requests. Copyright 2005.
I HAVE A NEW E-MAIL ADDRESS
Feedback (and criticism) is ALWAYS appreciated and welcome. Please respond to this story at: jaden.scott@adelphia.net I look forward to hearing from all of you and I will respond if you write to me. Thanks to all of you who have written so far with your encouraging words. I have appreciated every one of them.
If you have tried writing me (at my old address) since Friday, July 29th, I most likely didn't get your e-mail. Please re-send your e-mail to my new address. Thanks, Jaden.
LOVER'S LANE
by Jaden
From the end of Chapter Four:
(JADEN'S POINT OF VIEW)
Once he was out of sight, I groaned aloud and started rubbing my forehead with my hand. What have I gotten myself into here?? I've been in almost constant turmoil since I met this guy. Maybe I should just walk away. I'm not sure if I can handle this. I'm not sure if I'm ready for this.
I looked to my left and saw the path leading to my apartment and safety. I looked to my right and saw the table I told Lane that George and I would be waiting at. What should I do?? What SHOULD I do??
I thought about it for a moment and made up my mind. I started walking toward.........
CHAPTER FIVE: MEET LANE MCNEIL
PLEASE BE AWARE THAT THE NEXT CHAPTER IS GOING TO BE TOLD FROM LANE'S POINT OF VIEW. I WILL CLEARLY INDICATE WHEN WE SWITCH BACK TO JADEN'S POINT OF VIEW
It was the second day of my senior year of college and I was feeling proud of myself. Over the summer, I had decided that I would finally talk to HIM this year. I worked up my courage and, this morning, I accomplished my goal. I was excited--it felt like I was on an adrenaline rush.
I remember everything about the first day I saw HIM. It was during the middle of my junior year in college. The exact day and date was Monday, February 6, 2004. Up until that date, I had always gone to the student gym after classes were done for the day--usually in the early evening. But, for the first time since I had started college, I had an evening class that semester. The class was Art History 101--a basic level class I decided to take to fulfill part of the arts requirement for my major.
My art history class met on Tuesday and Thursday nights from 7PM to 9PM. I normally worked out on Tuesdays and Thursdays-- in fact, I worked out everyday of the week except for Sunday. Winter semester had begun in early January and for those first 4 weeks, I skipped my Tuesday and Thursday sessions. However, I didn't feel good about myself when I had to skip those workouts. I made the decision to get my ass out of bed earlier each morning and workout at that time. I was able to go back to my 6-day-a-week program and I was much happier with myself.
I didn't have much discipline when it came to working out while I was in High School and during my first year of college. I was your normal, typical teenager. I grew up in Delaware, Massachusetts (slogan--"The town so impressive it had to be named after a state"). We were located just about 30 miles outside of Boston. I had always played sports when I was in High School. I played football (mostly safety but some wide receiver too), basketball (point guard), and track (I ran the 110m hurdles and competed in the high jump). I made varsity in all three sports by my sophomore year. My second favorite memory of high school is actually three separate memories that all had something in common. We beat our hated rival--the Hudson Valley Tigers--for the league championship in all three sports I participated in. That was sooo cool.
Participating year round in those three sports kept my body in good physical shape. I never had a set workout program that I followed religiously. The exercise I got depended on each coach that I had--more weights during the football season, more running during the basketball and track seasons.
While I was a good athlete, I wasn't in the top 1% in any of the three sports I participated in. I knew early on that I wasn't going to be able to get an athletic scholarship to go to college. So, I concentrated on my studies too. Like most high schools, mine had all of the various "groups" that each student got labeled into. We had the jocks, the brains, the nerds, the goths, the stoners, the total losers, etc. I was a frustrating case for whoever the mysterious person it was that decided which group each person would belong to. I was a good athlete--obviously a characteristic of "the jocks". But I was the smartest kid in my class--obviously a characteristic of "the brains". To top it all off, I really enjoyed math and science--a definite characteristic of "the nerds". Because of my varying interests, I flowed (quite easily) between each of the three groups. Some of the really stuck-up girls would not date me simply because I had an association to "the nerds". "Teenagers" as a whole are definitely the most shallow people on this planet.
I made it through high school and was the class valedictorian (my number one favorite high school memory). I was sooo excited about that (my parents were too--in fact I wasn't sure who was more excited). It didn't bother me that I had to give a speech in front of my graduating class. Nobody would ever call me "shy". I applied and was accepted into an Ivy League college about two hours away from my house. Thankfully, due to my outstanding grades and extracirricular activities, I was awarded an acedemic scholarship that covered all but 15% of the total costs of college. My dad actually cried--CRIED!!--when we got the news (I shed a few tears too--just in the privacy of my own room).
Freshman year in college was exciting. I was on my own, making all of my own decisions. I was placed in a great dorm. My roommate and I declared each other best friends for life after talking for something like 10 minutes (we're still best friends and still living together in our senior year). You tend to meet a variety of people when living in a dorm with 100 other guys. My experience in high school (belonging to three diverse groups) definitely helped me in understanding, accepting, and making friends with the guys that were different from me. College was tons of fun.
The biggest change for me was not being involved in sports on a daily basis. The campus had some sports programs for students not on an athletic scholarship. I participated in a three-on-three basketball tournament. I played some golf when the weather permitted. The most fun I had was playing a game called "Broom-ball". "Broom-ball" was played on an ice hockey rink. Players could only wear tennis shoes--no ice skates. Each player was given a broom--the object of the game was similar to ice hockey, with the exception that "Broom-ball" was played with a ball instead of a puck. I joined a team made up of some guys from my dorm. Most of your time in the game was spent falling on your ass--it was hilarious.
Because I wasn't involved in any daily sports activity, and because I didn't have a normal workout schedule, I packed on about 20 lbs of fat by the end of my freshman year. There's a big difference in how your body looks when you are 6'2", 180 lbs and fit from playing sports, compared to 6'2", 200 lbs--with 20 lbs being fat. I had succumbed to the curse that every freshman dreads--the curse of the "Freshman Fifteen" (although in my case it was the "Freshman Twenty").
When I came home for the summer after my freshman year, my parents, my brother, and my sister took no pity on me and constantly gave me grief for the weight I had gained. That was our family dynamic--none of us ever held back. Polite society might call us jokesters--we preferred to call each other smart-asses. In order to survive in my family, you had to give as good as you got or you would be steamrolled. I wasn't shocked at my dad's comments, and I expected my brother and sister to be vicious in their attacks. But my own mother--the one who usually pulled her punches, especially with me (her BABY), really gave it to me. I think her comments, more than any of the others, is what inspired me to dedicate myself to eating more healthy and starting a workout program.
So, on Monday, February 6, 2004, I got up at 7AM and ran the short distance from my dorm to the student gym. This was the first day I was doing my workout in the morning. It had snowed the night before--only about one inch. I remember looking up at the trees and thinking that the branches looked so cool with a coating of snow on them. As I approached the entrance to the gym, I wondered how many people would be up this early working out. There was always about 50 people in the gym when I would go there in the early evening. After I entered the gym, I stopped for a moment to look around. There was only about 20 people in the entire place. Boy--getting a machine was going to be so much easier, I thought to myself. The only thing I had hated about going to the gym in the early evening was the fact you had to wait sometimes to get a machine. It's hard to keep your heart rate up when you keep starting and stopping your workout.
Most of the equipment in the student gym was fairly new, but the actual gym itself was located in an older building. I'm pretty sure the room was never meant to be a gym--there were no lockers, changing rooms, or showers for us to use. You had to come prepared to start your workout when you arrived and you had to take your shower back at your dorm or apartment when you were finished. On the far right wall was a large shelving unit where you could store your bag, if you had one. A student was on duty at all times to keep a watch over everyone's belongings and to verify your ID---you had to be a student at the university to use the student gym.
The student on duty checked my ID. I opened my bag and took out a bottle of water, my portable CD player, and my headphones. After closing my bag, I stored it and my jacket on one of the shelves. I walked over to an open area at the other end of the gym and started stretching. After I had just started, I heard a loud bang--the noise caused me to stop stretching and look around. I couldn't locate the source of the noise, and since nobody was screaming in pain, I decided to continue stretching. Just as I went to lower my head, something caught my eye. I looked more directly and that is when I saw HIM. He was sitting on a bench doing concentration curls with some free weights. I don't believe in LOVE at first sight, but LUST at first sight happens quite easily--and I started lusting after this guy the second my brain had a chance to process the image I was seeing.
I looked him over from head to toe. He had short blond hair. He was wearing a blue t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and high-top tennis shoes. His shoes were white with some type of blue and orange pattern on them. The way he was positioned, I couldn't see how big his bicep was when he curled the weight up. I could make out that he had a awesome body through his clothing. He didn't have huge muscles---he looked....just right. Since he was sitting down I couldn't tell exactly how tall he was, but I was guessing 6'0" easy.
I was enthralled with this vision of beauty and I would have kept staring at him all day--until I realized I had stopped breathing. As I took in a deep breath, I suddenly became self-conscious because I was just standing there and staring. I quickly looked around, but nobody was paying attention to me. Thank god for that.
Do I need to say it?? Can't you figure it out from what I just told you?? OK--FINE. I'M GAY. QUEER AS A THREE-DOLLAR BILL. FRIENDS WITH LIZA, JUDY, AND BARBRA. Happy now??
The first time I connected the dots and figured out I was gay was when I was 14 years old. It was the toward the end of summer after my 8th grade year--9th grade (which meant high school!!) would be starting in only one week. My best friend at the time was Jimmy Bridgestone. He lived two houses down from me and we had been best friends since the age of 3. Jimmy was over that day (he practically lived at my house anyway). I was starting to get stressed about starting high school. My brother, who would be starting his senior year, had been telling me nothing but horror stories about high school for weeks. Deep down, I knew he was just bullshitting me, but, as the one week countdown started, I finally let his lies get to me (thank god he never found out, or he would be humiliating me about it to this day). Jimmy suggested we go swimming at the local pool. We hadn't been there in almost 3 weeks because both our families had been on vacation. Not together--first my family went, then Jimmy's family had gone. Going to the pool was something Jimmy and I always did together, so I hadn't been there while he was away.
We arrived at the pool-house about 1PM. After storing our towels and junk, we ran out to the pool. As I was running, I happened to look up at one of the lifeguard stands. Oh my god, I thought, who is THAT??? I stopped running and came to a stand-still right at the edge of the pool as I continued looking at the lifeguard.
I thought to myself--he's new. I pretty sure I haven't seen him around here. Before I could process any more information, I was suddenly falling into the pool. JIMMY PUSHED ME!!! was my first thought as I came back to the surface of the water. I looked to the side of the pool and, sure enougth, Jimmy was standing there laughing his head off. Before I had time to tell him off, I heard a whistle. I looked over at the lifeguard stand--it was HIM!!.
"Hey kid. No pushing or rough horseplay. If I see you do it again, you're out of here!!", the lifeguard yelled at Jimmy.
He was...beautiful, I thought. He was only about 2 or 3 years older than me. WOW. He wasn't really all that muscular-- in fact he was sort of skinny. There wasn't a single ounce of fat on his body that I could see. He had a dark, golden brown tan--probably from all of the hours he spent sitting in the sun. He had this thick, curly black hair. I was mesmerized.
The water suddenly exploded around me. JIMMY!!! He had done a cannonball and landed about 3 inches from me. He came up from underwater laughing again. AAARRRGGGHH--I wanted to kill him at that moment. What was wrong with him?? Couldn't he see what I was seeing?? God hadn't made any mistakes creating this wonderful specimen of manhood.
UUUUUMMMMMM...what am I doing?? What am I THINKING?? Do I think the lifeguard is.........hot?? As in, do I want to run my tongue all over his body?? All of these thoughts came tumbling into my mind.
I have to get out of here. NOW!! I need to leave RIGHT NOW!!! I was starting to panic. I wanted to be home in my own bed. Tears started to leak out of my eyes (thank god I was soaked). THINK, DAMMIT, THINK!!
"Lane, are you all right?? You look like you just saw a ghost or something??", Jimmy asked. He could tell something was wrong with me. "Hey, I was just playing with you. Are you pissed off that I pushed you into the pool??
"NO!!!!" I shouted at him. Ok...calm down. "I'm just, um, not feeling very good. I think I'd better go home."
"You want to go home?? Are you sure everything is OK??", Jimmy asked me, genuine concern in his voice.
That was the thing about Jimmy---he loved to horse around, but he could be very serious if needed. He really was a good friend--always willing to give others anything they needed with no hesitation.
"Yeah, I'm just not feeling too good all of the sudden. Maybe I shouldn't have eaten that extra sandwich at lunch.", I lied to him. First I thought the lifeguard was hot, now I'm lying to my best friend. Something is seriously wrong with me!!
Jimmy didn't say another word. He just swam over to the side of the pool and pulled himself out. He was soooo trusting, almost to a fault. He reached his hand out to help me get out of the pool. I swam over to him, sneaking peaks at the lifeguard the whole time. I don't think Jimmy noticed me doing that.
We gathered our belongings and began the walk back home. Jimmy was still concerend about me.
"Listen, why don't you sit down over here?? I'll run home and have my mom come back to pick you up in the car.", Jimmy suggested.
I didn't want this lie to get blown out of proportion, so I said to him,
"Thats OK, dude. I think I can make it home on my own. Its not that much farther. I appreciate you caring so much." I really did appreciate his concern (the sad part is Jimmy's family moved to Colorado a year later and, despite all of our promises to remain best friends, we had lost touch by the time we graduated high school).
We finally made it to my house. I told Jimmy I was going to lie down. He told me to call if I needed anything, then he turned and walked over to his house.
I actually did lay down on my bed as soon as I got to my bedroom. At least that's one less lie I told Jimmy, I thought. It wasn't until I was safely inside of my room that I began to reflect on what had happened at the pool. I had found a guy---A GUY!!--attractive. No, that's wrong--I thought he was hot as shit.
What was going on with me?? I wasn't....I mean I'm not.....could it be possible that I was, was.....????????????????????
I didn't want to even think the word, much less say it outloud. I like girls, don't I?? OF COURSE I DO!! I mean, come on---I'm Lane McNeil--star athlete. Ladies man. Chick magnet. So I haven't had a girlfriend yet---I certainly didn't want to tie myself down and limit my options?? Plus, I was ONLY 14 years old. There was plently of time for girlfriends and relationships later on, right?? Besides. like my father and brother always say--its more fun playing the field (at least they always say that when my mom and sister aren't around).
OK--think Lane, THINK!!! Who was the last girl you had a crush on?? Who was the last girl you dreamed about kissing?? Who was the last girl that gave you butterflies in your stomach everytime you saw her?? THINK!!! I know!! What about Melissa Saunders--wasn't I just saying that she looked sexy in that mini-skirt I saw her wearing at church yesterday?? I said that, didn't I?? Oh, wait. SHIT!! Jimmy was the one who made that comment. But I AGREED with him, I know I did. Didn't she look sexy?? Why can't I remember what she looked like??
C'mon....oh yeah. Remember at the end of school last year--all the guys were drooling over Heather Gordon?? Her boobs were huge--it seemed like they just grew overnight. I remember--we were all laughing, wondering if she got a boob job done. Didn't I picture her naked?? Wasn't I curious what her boobs looked like?? Wasn't I anxious to touch them, to see what they felt like?? COME ON!! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK--I know I thought about it. I know I did, didn't I??
An icy fear shot through me as I remembered that I didn't care about Heather Gordon and her big boobs. Until Jimmy said something to me, I never would have given Melissa Saunders a second glance. There has got to be at least ONE GIRL--- one girl that I've fantasized about before. I mean--I'm jerking off on a daily basis (sometimes 2 or 3 times a day!)-- why can't I remember what I think about when I do that?? WHAT am I thinking about??
OH, man. FUCK ME. Jimmy. I think about Jimmy. But, but...I think about Jimmy doing it with some girl, don't I?? Some slutty, nasty, horny girl, right?? You can do it Lane--who is the girl that you imagine Jimmy is fucking in your fantasies?? Who is it??
I starting crying. I cried and I cried and I cried. Just when I thought I was going to stop crying, fresh new tears started flowing out of my eyes. Is it possible to have this many tears in your body??
It's not true. I don't believe it. I WON'T BELIEVE IT. PLEASE GOD, LET ME WAKE UP FROM THIS NIGHTMARE. PLEASE, IF THERE IS A GOD, HELP ME!!! PLEASE--HELP ME!!! WHY ME!! WHY ME???? AM I?? I AM, GOD HELP ME, I AM. I'M..............GAY!!!! GAY. I'M GAY. I'M GAY. HOLY FUCKING SHIT, I'M GAY!!!!!!!!! I'M A QUEER. I'M A COCKSUCKER. I'M AN ASS-LICKER. I'M GAY. MY LIFE IS OFFICIALLY OVER.
The tears dried up. There were no more tears left in my body. I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I couldn't move. I wanted to die. What is the quickest way to go?? I definitely didn't want anything that would hurt. I just wanted to be dead. Can I just will myself into death?? A smile crept over my face as I suddenly thought--PILLS. PILLS. PILLS!!!!!!! That's the ticket!!! PILLS!!! All I had to do was swallow a hole bunch, then I would fall asleep. Taking pills wouldn't hurt at all!!!!!! Ironically, I was saved!! Now, where do I get the pills?? Is aspirin strong enough?? I would probably have to take about 200 of those things to do any damage. What about mom or dad?? Have either one of them been sick lately?? Do either of them use pills to help them sleep?? I couldn't remember. Come on Lane--- there has got to a way. THINK!!
SARAH. Sarah, my sister, had pills. She had PAIN pills. Just the other day she was bragging about how FEW pain pills she had taken after her recent knew surgery. She had almost a WHOLE BOTTLE of them left. Now--where would my sneaky sister keep those damn things?? They had to be in her bedroom. I had not seen them anywhere in the bathroom that she, Connor (my brother), and I shared. They had to be in her bedroom. OK--today is Monday. It's 3PM--what was Sarah doing today?? Physical therapy on her knee. What time did she say her appointment was at??? Man--why don't I ever listen to her when she talks?? Well, in my defense, most of what comes out of her big mouth is shit, so why would I listen to her?? I know I heard her say the time---was it 2PM??? 2PM--that time does sound familiar, doesn't it?? Think. Yesterday, after we got home from church, we, we.....had dinner, right?? Right--I remember now. Mom made pork chops, one of my favorites. And then Sarah said......what did she say??? She asked if mom could take her to her physical therapy appointment. And her appointment time was at 2PM. Yep, her appointment was at 2PM. If Sarah's physical therapy only took one hour, that means I have 1/2 hour before she and mom gets home.
What about Connor?? Where is he at today?? Probably at his girlfriends house, like always. I had accidentally come across a enormous amount of condoms that he had bought and hid in his room (hey--I wasn't snooping. I was legitimately looking for something. I swear!!). Well, it looks like we know what Connor is doing, or should I say we know WHO Connor is doing. He won't be home anytime soon. I know that dad is at work, so I'm all alone for at least 30 minutes.
I slowly got up from my bed and walked over to the door. I carefully opened it.
"Mom?? Sarah?? Connor?? Helloooooo---is anybody home??", I called out loudly into the hallway.
I held my breathe and waited for 10 seconds. No response. I called out to all 3 of them again and waited. Still no response. I slowly walked down the hallway toward my sister's room. The door to her rooom was opened. I looked inside--the room was empty.
I looked around to see if anyone was watching me, then I walked into Sarah's room. I was nervous. OK--think like Sarah. If I were Sarah, where would I put a bottle of pain pills?? I checked the two drawers in the nightstand next to her bed. Nothing. How about under the bed?? Strike two. I carefully looked around the room. The dresser?? How about her underwear drawer?? I knew I was onto something. I had to open 3 drawers before I found the one that contained her underwear. I tried to be careful as I looked around the drawer. BINGO!! I found them. I pulled the bottle out of the drawer. Wow--it seemed huge. I shook the bottle--it sounds like there are a bunch of pills in there. I read the directions on the label. It said to take a pill as needed, but to not exceed 4 pills in a 24-hour period. There were considerably more than 4 pills left in the bottle. I figured I had enough to do the job.
I walked downstairs, filled a glass with water in the kitchen, then returned to my bedroom. I placed the glass of water and the bottle of pills on my desk. I sat down on my bed and stared at them. Ok--should I just start right now?? An image of my mother and father flashed in my mind. Should I leave a note to explain why I was doing this?? I wasn't sure what to do. On the one hand I hated thinking that they wouldn't know why I had to do this. On the other hand, I wanted them to remember me as I was--I didn't want them to find out about the gay issue and then be glad I was dead. Well, I guess I could write a note and make up a lie as to why I was killing myself. That actually sounded like a good idea. Ok--now why would a seemingly normal teenage boy want to kill himself?? What would sound plausible to my parents, siblings, and friends??
I could say I was suffering from depression. Nah--I don't think they would buy that. We had just recently returned from vacation and I know I was either smiling or laughing the entire time. How about drugs?? I could say I was addicted to cocaine or heroin and I didn't know how to handle the problem anymore. No--that story had holes in it to. My parents would want to know where I got the money to buy the drugs. Plus, I had seen enough medical crap on TV to know that they would test my blood for drugs and look for needle holes. I would be found out and then my parents would know I was lying in my note. I didn't want my parents to know I was lying to them. How about child abuse?? I could claim that someone had abused me for a number of years and I never told anyone. Then I could claim the pain and guilt had overwhelmed me and I had to commit suicide to stop the pain. The beauty of that excuse was that nobody would be able to confirm or deny my story, so they would most likely accept it as the truth. But, my stupid morals kicked in--I hated using child abuse as an excuse. There were real kids out there dealing with the effets of real child abuse. I hated to use their pain for my own selfish goals--it would cheapen the feelings that they dealt with.
I was drawing a blank. What could I possibly give as an excuse that would make sense and not be discovered as a lie?? How about gangs?? I could say I was forced to join a gang and they made me perform horrible acts of violence. Again-- too many holes in that scenerio. I was around Jimmy almost 24 hours a day. When would I have had the opportunity to even meet a gang member??
Man, this was frustrating. Maybe I just shouldn't leave a note. I didn't love that idea, but it seemed to be the only option I had. I guess I could....
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH MY BOTTLE OF PAIN PILLS IN YOUR ROOM??", my sister screamed at me from the doorway.
I shot off my bed and fell on the floor in a sitting position. She scared the living shit out of me. I slowly looked up at my sister---the look on her face was scary. She was seriously pissed off at me.
I looked over at the bottle of pills. OH MY GOD--SHE'S RIGHT. WHAT THE HELL WAS I DOING WITH THOSE PILLS??
All of the sudden, I started crying again. I not talking about a few tears and a couple of sniffles. I was sobbing-- almost hysterically. I started yelling for my mother--although I was saying "MOMMY, MOMMY." I think I stopped calling her mommy when I was 6 years old.
My sister and I love each other and today we have a awesome relationship. But back then, I didn't give her enough credit for knowing when I was being a baby and when I was seriously upset. But she understood at that moment that I was not faking anything.
"MOM, MOOOOOM, WE NEED YOU UP HERE RIGHT NOW!!!!!", my sister screamed at the top of her lungs.
Apparently my concept of time wasn't working because, as I remember it, as soon as my sister stop screaming for my mother, I was in her arms. I sobbed, and I sobbed, and I sobbed---for almost an hour straight. I was clutching at her so hard. I felt that if I let go, I would fall into a bottemless abyss. I can remember hearing my mom whispering softly to me, telling me that she was there and everything was going to be alright. She must have said that two thousand times to me. At some point I became aware that Sarah was sitting on the other side of me and rubbing my back. My sister had never touched me so gently before.
Slowly I was able to stop crying. I was still sitting on the floor, mom on one side, Sarah on the other. I started to feel such contentment that I began to fall asleep. My mother must have noticed and the next thing I was aware of was her coaxing me to stand up. She guided me over to my bed and had me lay down on it. She grabbed a blanket that was folded on the end of my bed and covered me up. I was asleep almost instantaneously.
When I opened my eyes, it was getting dark outside--or so I thought. I struggled to sit upright. What happened to me?? Before I could even think anymore about what had happened, I realized that my bladder was about to burst. I quickly ran over to the bathroom and took care of the problem. After I had washed my hands, I returned to my bedroom. I realized I was still wearing my bathing suit. Did I come home from swimming and fall asleep on my bed??
Suddenly it came all rushing back to me: Jimmy, the pool, the lifeguard, realizing I was gay, wanting to commit suicide, the pain pills, Sarah, and my mother. I sat down hard on my bed and put my head in my hands. Oh man, what happened to me?? What was I going to do?? Was I really planning on committing suicide??
I almost--almost--felt like it was all a dream, or some plot of a intense movie I had seen. Suicide?? I remembered. I had wanted to die. Oh my god--and I'm gay too. The smell of coffee brewing caught my attention. Wait--my parents only drink coffee in the morning. What was going on? I looked over at the clock radio beside my bed--it wasn't 7PM, it was 7AM!!!
I suddenly felt dirty. I still could smell the chlorine on my body from being in the pool yesterday. I need a shower so I quickly took one. I came back to my room and put on an old t-shirt and shorts. I felt more refreshed--and I was thristy and hungry. The only way to satisfy those cravings was to go downstairs. I knew my mom and dad were down there. I know they heard me take a shower, so they know I'm awake. OK--time to face the music. I took a couple of deep breaths and headed downstairs.
When I entered the kitchen I saw my mother and father sitting at the table. I was suprised to see Sarah and Connor sitting there too. And--nobody was talking. OK, this is going to be worse than I could have possibly imagined.
I grabbed a bottle of apple juice out of the refrigerator and a glass from the cabinet. I walked over to the table and sat down in my usual seat. I poured myself a glass of juice and drank it down in one gulp. I looked around at my family--wasn't somebody going to say something???
My mother's arm moved suddenly and I actually flinched. She had never hit me before but I wasn't too sure she wouldn't start right now. She reached her arm toward the middle of the table and set the bottle of pain pills down.
All 5 of us sat there staring at them for at least one minute.
Then, my mother began speaking (I was terrified and excited at what she was going to say),
"Lane, look around this table. I am your mother. This is your father. There are your sister and your brother. Lane--this is a family. Your family. Our family. Your father and I have tried to teach each of our kids lessons that will help them to grow and become successful adults. That is a parent's job--actually, that is their responsibility. And we have done our best to teach those lessons. But the one thing that we have wanted you to learn more than anything else, the one thing we wanted you to know in the bottom of your heart, the one thing we never wanted you to doubt is our love for you. Not just love, but unconditional love. After the events of yesterday, the only conclusion that your dad and I can come up with is that we failed--we failed to teach you that love, we failed to make sure it was instilled in your heart."
My mother stopped talking. I looked over at Sarah and Connor--they both had tears in their eyes.
My father started speaking next. He said,
"Lane--your mother spoke of unconditional love. Do you truly understand what that means? It means that nothing you can say or do will make us stop loving you or love you less. As disappointed as we all are right now after what happened yesterday, we still love you just as much as we ever did. That will not change. It cannot change. We need to make sure that you understand that. We need to make sure that you accept that completely. Alot of bad things can happen to you in this world. You could die in an car accident. You could become sick with a deadly disease. You could be in the wrong place at the wrong time and lose your life. We--all of us at this table--are not going to let you throw your life away because you have a problem. Fine--you have a problem. We will discuss it as a family and we will figure out a solution. Together. We will not sit idly by and let you self-destruct. End of story. It will not happen. Do you understand??"
I had been looking at my father the whole time he spoke. I nodded my head. I thought I would be expected to speak next, but I was suprised when Sarah started speaking.
"Lane, on most days, I give you a hard time. I am nine years older than you and that has caused some distance between us. But you need to remember--I am your sister and I love you. We are family--that is a bond that cannot be broken. It is impossible. As you grow up and become a young man, the age difference between us will mean less and less and you and I will become more equal than we are now. But, I will always be your big sister. I will always be there for you. You need to remember that."
Connor cleared his throat and started speaking next.
"Well, I guess it is my turn to say something. We are much closer in age, Lane, but when you are a teenager, the difference between 17 and 14 can be huge. You are my little brother. I remember when you came home from the hospital with mom and dad. I was only 3 at the time, but it is one of the most vivid memories that I have. I've never told you this story, but the day you came home, Dad sat me down on the couch and he sat next to me while holding you in his arms. He said 'Connor, this is your little brother. His name is Lane. See how small he is. For the next 18 years, he is always going to be smaller that you. And that means you have a job to do. You must always watch out for your little brother. You must try and make sure that he is kept safe. That is your job--do you think you can handle that?' Even though I was young, I understood exactly what dad was saying. I've tried to watch out for you and keep you safe. And along the way I learned something--I need to have all of the information if I'm going to do my job correctly. That means you need to be honest with me at all times. The same is true for Sarah and mom and dad. We need you to tell us the truth about what you are feeling. Like mom said, the love we feel for each other is unconditional. That means we will not only love you but accept you no matter what. Please remember that."
I was in a state of shock---I had never heard my brother and sister express themselves like that. I was overwhelmed with emotion.
"OK, Lane, we need you to tell us what happened yesterday. I know it's going to be difficult, but you have to tell us. Nobody is leaving this room or this table until we have discussed this problem and everyone feels comfortable with the resolution." my Dad said to me.
I felt so scared at that moment. I know that I had just heard each of my family members tell me that they loved me unconditionally. Despite those sentiments, I was still paranoid about how each of them would react to what I had to say.
"Um....Um....I....I...........," I was trying to speak but I felt like I couldn't tell them. Please let me wake up from this nightmare!!!
"HOney," my mom said, "it's going to be OK. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. You have to trust us--all of us."
"I'm so scared.", finally came tumbling out of my mouth. I sounded like such a little boy at that moment. "I don't want any of you to hate me!"
"We are NOT going to hate you, I promise. You have to let us know what the problem is so we can help you.", my mother said to me.
I let my mother's words digest for a few seconds, then I slowly looked around the table at my father and siblings. They were all staring at me, patiently waiting for me to fill them in. I realized in that moment that none of my family memebers were looking at me with anger or disgust in their faces. They looked genuinely concerned.
"I...Something happened at the pool yesterday.", I began, "I saw something that freaked me out."
Nobody said anything. This is soooo hard. I exhaled and said,
"After seeing the thing that freaked me out, Jimmy and I left the pool and came back home. I told Jimmy I wasn't feeling well so he left and I went to my bedroom. I started thinking about this "thing" that had scared me--and suddenly I realized something that I never knew before. I realized that.....that....that I'm....."
I could NOT say the word. I could'nt do it. I knew I had to, but my mouth was not cooperating.
"Just say it, Lane. It's OK. We all love and support you. But---YOU have to say it.", my mother said to me.
Tears started falling down my face. I had never cried in front of my father or brother before. I felt like this situation was turning from bad to worse.
"I realized that I'm......gay." I whispered the last word. I put my head down. I wasn't going to look anyone in the eyes. I felt my cheecks starting to burn. "I'm gay.", I said in a louder voice.
I felt my mother put her arms around me. I turned and buried my head in her neck. I started crying again. Just like yesterday, I couldn't stop.
Finally, after about 5 minutes, I started to calm down. I leaned back from my mom and hung my head very low. I saw a wad of tissues being thrust at me out of the corner of my eye. I looked up---it was Sarah, and ....and she didn't look angry. I felt a little bit more courageous and shifted my eyes to Connor---he looked the same as Sarah. I finally felt brave enough to glance at my dad. He was staring at me with a neutral expression on his face.
"Are you sure?", my dad finally asked me.
I met my dad's stare with my own eyes. I replied,
"Yes, I am."
"And that's why you tried to commit suicide yesterday?", my mom asked me.
"Yes. I know--it was a stupid thing to even think about doing. I realized that when I woke up this morning. But yesterday---I guess I was in shock. I couldn't believe the thoughts and emotions I was having for another.....dude. I was terrified--terrified of my feelings, terrified about what your reactions were going to be, terrified of what other people were going to think. I convinced myself that everyone was better off if I wasn't around anymore.", I responded to her.
"So you decided that killing yourself was your only option??", my sister asked me, a slight tone of sarcasm in her voice.
"At the time I wasn't thinking too clearly. I know that committing suicide is a horrible thing to even contemplate, but I wasn't rational yesterday.", I replied. Everyone was quiet again.
"So, are you are telling us now that you know that suicide is wrong?? Because, Lane, I need to be 100% sure you aren't going to try something like that again.", my mother asked me.
Before I could respond, my dad interrupted us by saying,
"OK, OK--let's all settle down. Lane, I need to say something to you. I will freely admit that I do not know much about homosexuality and I doubt your mother does either." My dad paused to look at my mom, who was shaking her head. He continued,
"I don't like the idea of you being gay. AND--BEFORE YOU REACT, let me explain why. Living your life as a gay man is not the easiest thing to do in this world. Sure, more and more people are accepting homosexuals, but there are still some psychos out there who might hurt you. Plus--there are diseases that you could catch, some of them deadly. I'm not saying you aren't going to practice safe sex--you're a smart kid--but protection isn't always 100% effective. The selfish part of me wants to see you as happy as you can possibly be and it saddens me that you might face discrimination and prejudice just because of who you love."
"Now--does anyone at this table have any issues with Lane? Is everyone comfortable with the fact that Lane is gay?", my dad said to the rest of the table. My dad doesn't pull his punches---he believes in asking direct questions and getting direct answers.
"I have absolutely no problem with Lane, other than the fact he's a pain in my ass!!!", Sarah said, a smile forming on her face.
"I don't have a problem either.", Connor replied, "However, I'm going to have a hard time coming up with an explanation that will satisfy my buddies when they see Lane in his dress and high heels at school next week!!" The bastard managed to keep a straight face the whole time he was talking!!
"Assholes.", I muttered.
"WHAT WAS THAT? LANE PHILLIP MCNEIL, YOU WATCH YOUR TONGUE!!", my mother yelled at me.
Secretly I was thrilled--if Sarah and Connor were dishing out the pain again, that must mean they still accept me. I felt so relieved. In terms of what my father said to me, I completely understood what he was trying to say. He didn't want me to face any hardships in life. He wanted me to have the best life possible.
"Alright, enough,", my dad commanded, "but we are not finished. Lane--you tried to commit SUICIDE yesterday. I understand that you were upset over discovering your sexuality, but that doesn't excuse your behavior. As I see it, there are two major issues here. The first issue is the fact that you wanted to kill yourself, I don't care what the reasons are. The second issue is your sexuality. It is obvious based on what happened yesterday and what you have said here today that you are not comfortable with yourself. I think that we need to send you to some counseling. You need to speak to a professional about your feelings and get the help that you need. Neither your mother or I are qualified to provide that for you.
I nodded my head in agreement. I understood that my dad was correct. I would have to make the best out of the situation. Who knows--maybe I'll get a hunky therapist. If that were the case, I'm pretty sure that counseling would be my number one top priority!! :)
Does anyone have anything else they would like to add?? And I mean something CONSTRUCTIVE!!.", my dad said the last part loudly, once he started to see Sarah open her big mouth.
"I would just like to apologize once again. I'm sorry if I scared anyone yesterday. I appreciate everything each one of you has said to me. I don't know how I could be so stupid..........keep your mouth SHUT Connor!!" I said sincerely. I even said that last part to Connor sincerely---I was sincerely telling him to shut the hell up!!
After we got up from the table my mother and father both hugged me--tightly. My father whispered in my ear, "Don't scare me like that again, Lane. I mean it!"
After my dad let me go, Sarah suddenly put her arm around me.
"So, Laneeeeeee," she said with evil intentions, "do you have a crush on anyone?? Let me guess!!! How about...... Kevin Brown?? NO?? Then what about Shane Carter?? He's a hottie!!
I wasn't about to participate in her fishing expedition--that would only add fuel to her fire. The whole time she was talking I simply glared at her.
OH. MY. GOD.", Sarah said as realization dawned in her feeble mind, "It isn't Jimmy Bridgestone, is it?? Please, Lane, not Jimmy!!!"
My face had gone white at hearing Jimmy's name mentioned--and, of course, my sister noticed.
"EEEEWWWWWWWW---it IS Jimmy!! Gross!!! I mean, isn't that like incest or something??", she said sarcastically. 'NO!!! IT'S NOT JIMMY!!", I screamed at her. Of course, my fierce denial only re-inforced my sister's thoughts. "So, will his name be Jimmy McNeil or will your name be Lane Bridgestone after the wedding?? By the way, Which one is the GIRL in your relationship??", my sister said, continuing to taunt me.
"Will you go away?? I told you---there is no relationship!!!", I practically screamed at her. I turned and left the kitchen. As I was going upstairs to my bedroom, I could here Sarah singing, 'Lane and Jimmy sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes loves, next comes marriage, here comes Lane pushing a baby carriage!! HA, HA, HA, HA'.
My coming out was a roller coaster of emotions. I nearly committed suicide; instead I lived. I ended up gaining a newfound love and appreciation for my whole family while learning what unconditional love truly meant. Per our agreement, I started attending therapy sessions--I was lucky to get a great counselor.
TO BE CONTINUED
Sorry that this chapter is ending so abruptly. There is still alot more to Lane's background. I decided to split his story into two chapters.
Author's note: Did you notice that Lane's high school rival was the Hudson Valley Tigers??? HMMMMMM---don't we know somebody who is from Hudson Valley?? Did you catch that little tidbit??
CORRECTION: In Chapter 1, I named Jaden's hometown 'Hudson'. My mistake---it is actually 'Hudson Valley'.
Be on the lookout for chapter 6 soon.
FEEDBACK, FEEDBACK, FEEDBACK---this is lifeblood for us writers, so please drop me a quick line. Remember, I have a new e-mail address. Use: jaden.scott@adelphia.net Thanks, Jaden.