Opposites

What would the world be like if Gay was right, and straight was wrong? This story follows the lives of a group of friends.

Just as a heads up, I am writing this on a google.docs with my best friend, Emily M. (last name hidden for safety) and you can find her on Tumblr at @artzypaw. We are writing this story together.

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25. Anthony

“Well Bem, we are glad that you are here on this wonderful night.” Jõse says and smiles ear to ear.
    “Thank you for having me over.” Bear replies very subtly. I am surprised  because my dad usually calls him ‘Bem’ and no one calls him by his nickname.

“So… It’s Thanksgiving and we still haven’t eaten or said our thanks!” I gesture to the guests seated at the table, including Bear, my fathers’ and a few other people.

 

“Maybe we can start with this end of the table,” Rob says gesturing to the opposite end of the table to us. People say they are thankful for their clothes, for the food set before them, and money or wealth. Rob and Jõse say that they are thankful to have healthy kids, and I don't know what he means, when it’s just me. They say they are thankful for each other, and it’s all too sappy.

 

It’s Bear’s turn. “I am thankful for a home, and a family who loves me…” I am confused when he stops and looks around the room. He then looks me dead in the eyes. “I am thankful that you stick with me during my crazy days. I am thankful that I love you, because you make it hard.” He grips my hand and I nudge him a bit.

“Dito,” I reply.  

 

 

 

 

    After dinner, the servants clean up and Rob and Jõse take the guests to the living room to entertain them. I think they have a band rented. Who knows.

 

    I take Bear up to the balcony on the roof.

 

    “It’s nice to escape the hectic that is my life,” I sigh.

    “I agree with that statement.” He says, taking a lungful of air. “It’s so peaceful,” He says pulling me into his arms. “I don't like it.”

“What do you not like?” I ask resting my head on his chest. He is considerably taller than me.  Maybe like three or four inches. I hear his heartbeat. Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud.

“I like being ‘hectic’ with you.” He says. I look up at him with a questionable look on my face. “Not like that, you perv.” He chuckles.

“I do love you, but I’m not ready, to be too hectic… If you catch my drift.” I whisper.

“I get you,” He says pulling me into a long kiss. The autumn breeze was refreshing and somehow managed to make the kiss innocent. But, it also made me cold and I pulled apart, “Let's go inside near the fireplace. I’m sure dad has it on.”

Chapter 25

 

Jonathan

 

Tonight wasn’t as fun as I had hoped it would’ve been. Mom’s turkey got burnt so we just ended up eating soggy stuffing and hard greenbeans. I would’ve spent it with Nickel, but I don’t know how to act around her right now. Things are pretty twisted.

 

Things are really twisted. I’ve noticed my mom’s been out of it lately, Nickel’s not herself, and I’m having mental breakdowns. Of course I’m not crying (because I’m a manly man so I can't cry, it’s like impossible), but I’m overthinking things and I don't know how to stop it. My grades are fine and school life is maybe a little different but everythings seems to be falling apart. I sometimes feel like no one is listening to me and when they actually do it’s only because another person isn't talking to them.

I’m normally with Bear and Nickel during the day, but I have other friends. I’m the ‘God knows what’ wheel in this relationship and it’s not even my fault.

Not that I’m blaming anyone…

Nickel.

Bear.

Fae.

Why does mankind seem to always find something else other than themselves to blame for things.

 

 

 

 

The next morning, it is Friday and school is off for Black Friday (which I’m personally still surprised is still running). Teachers normally give us student tests on Thanksgiving for our progress reports. Not fun. But, at least we get a three day weekend.

 

I plan out my weekend in my head.

First, we’re going to the park.

Ok, sounds fine…

Then we’re going to ask Emily out..

No, not okay.

But you know you like her.

But she may not like me.

You’re the one who read her diary-

She might hear my thoughts, so shut up!

You really are crazy aren’t you?

I have perfectly reasonable logic…

You are crazy…

I’m not!

You’re talking to someone in your head. Kuku.

Stop it!

 

I may be a tad bit crazy…

 

Nah, I’m not. I could be, I don't know. It’s hard to be different. It is. It’s hard to face to mockery, the bullying. I can't fit in, so I should just die.

 

I grab the alcohol from my mothers’ cabinet. I open the first one and chug it down. I open one after another. I finnish several. I go upstairs woozily. You need to lay down, moron. I think to myself. I try to lay down but I can't go to sleep. I walk to the bathroom, I grab some sleeping pills, and down them all.

 

 

 

 

“Oh my God!” I hear come from far away. I feel my heart slow, and my breathing stop all together.

 

So this is how I die? Sleeping pills and being drunk. Not flattering.

 

    I hear the ambulance pull up and that’s the last thing I remember.

 
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