A Gay Polyester High School Romance

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A Gay Polyester High School Romance Page 10

by S. W. Ballenger


  Our conversation, which had been very lively most of the day, had come to a lull. I glanced off in the distance, my mind a million miles away.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” She glanced sideways at me.

  “Huh?” I answered, trying to bring my current situation back into focus. “Oh,” I forced a smile, “just thinking.” I waved my hand dismissively. “It’s nothing.”

  “Doesn’t look like nothing. You having regrets about last night?” She raised her eyebrows at me.

  “Oh. No.” I shook my head quickly. “Last night was great! More than great!” I exclaimed.

  “Okay.” She nodded and grinned. “I enjoyed it, too.”

  As we continued walking, I’d glance at Susan occasionally. She definitely seemed like a very “worldly” girl. The thought occurred to me that maybe I could talk to her about Brad. I mean, she had two boyfriends and didn’t seem to have any qualms about sleeping with me, so obviously she had very liberal beliefs about sexuality.

  “Umm…Susan…there actually is something.” I hesitated a moment. “It’s…something that’s kinda hard to talk about.”

  “Okay. Let’s sit.” She nodded toward a bench ahead of us.

  Sitting down, I waited for a mother pushing a stroller to pass by us before speaking.

  “It’s just…well,” I leaned down and picked up a pebble and started rolling it around in my palm, “my best friend, Brad. He and I have been best friends since…well forever, but in the last month or so, he’s been acting all…weird…around me.”

  “Define ‘weird’.” She looked at me with that same look Mom gives me when she puts on her “Doctor Stuart” face.

  “Last Saturday night,” I threw the pebble down and looked at her, “we went on a double date with these two girls. It turned out to be a complete disaster. Anyway, afterward, Brad and I were just goofing off in my room like we do all the time, when out of the blue he—” I paused hating to say the words.

  “He what?”

  “He…kissed me.”

  “Whoa.” Susan’s eyes bulged.

  “Yeah…whoa is right.” I nodded.

  “Okay. What did you do?” she asked very methodically.

  “I shoved him away and basically told him our friendship was over.” I shrugged not wanting to get into details of my outburst. “I mean, what was I supposed to do? He kissed me. He admitted he’s,” I lowered my voice to a whisper and darted my eyes around to make sure no one was near before I said it, “a homosexual.”

  Susan shook her head sympathetically. “Poor Brad. He must be in so much pain right now.”

  “Poor Brad?” I raised my voice not expecting that sort of reaction. “What about poor Shawn?”

  “It was just a kiss.” Susan acted like it was nothing.

  Susan’s very casual reaction really threw me for a loop. I guessed she was liberal in her beliefs, but come on, a guy kissing another guy? I would have expected her to be more disgusted, especially after the fact we had sex together. Of course, Gloria Steinem and the whole Women’s Lib movement had a large following among college girls. I could see Susan as a big supporter.

  “Just a kiss?” I raised my voice. “He’s a guy! I’m a guy! It’s not,” I shook my head in disbelief, “natural.”

  “Who says it’s not?” She lifted her head in a challenging way.

  “Well,” I turned my palms up and rolled my eyes around, “basically everybody in the world.”

  “Not everyone. Do you think Brad chose to be that way?”

  “Well…no.” I started to calm down, remembering the conversation I had with my mom on that subject.

  “Think how he must be hurting right now feeling like the whole world including his best friend hates him for who he is.”

  I thought back to how he sat alone at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria. I could tell by the look on his face he was hurting, but my anger clouded any chance of reconciliation. Honestly, I didn’t know if I were so much angry at him for kissing me, or angrier at myself for liking it. I did blame Brad for sending me into a complete state of mental confusion, making me believe I might be like him in an unnatural way. Thank God Susan last night proved I was normal.

  “Well?” Susan asked again, shaking me from my thoughts.

  “I know, Susan, but what if he tries it again?” I rested my elbow on my knee and laid my head on my palm, turning my head to her.

  “You just need to talk to him, Shawn. Tell him that you still want to be his friend, but what he did wasn’t acceptable, but be supportive. Support and acceptance, those are the two things Brad needs most right now.”

  I lifted my head and nodded.

  Susan did give me a lot to think about it. Even though what Brad did was wrong, he was still my best friend and I really did miss him.

  “Thanks for last night.” I gazed at her. “You’re definitely the grooviest girl I’ve ever met.” My grin slowly widened. “You need another boyfriend?”

  Susan threw her head back and laughed. “Believe me, if you were a few years older, I would take you up on that offer.”

  “Seriously?” I raised my eyebrows.

  She leaned closer and darted her eyes around, making sure we were alone. “You were dynamite last night,” she said lowly before giving me a quick kiss.

  I grinned from ear to ear. Suddenly, the cold, dreary autumn day seemed much brighter.

  Susan started laughing and bumped my shoulder with her elbow. “Now, don’t let it go to your head.”

  “Me?” I lifted my head proudly. “Never!”

  • • •

  The next day, as the train pulled out of Grand Central Station, I took a seat in First Class as far away from my parents as possible. Since yesterday, Dad had been giving me dirty looks and I couldn’t stand his evil eye any longer.

  I pulled out my copy of Sports Illustrated I had bought at a station newsstand from my coat pocket and began thumbing through the pages, trying to keep my mind off the punishment I knew was coming.

  I had just begun reading an interview with Joe Namath, when I felt a bump on my leg. My head shot up and I was met with the disapproving eyes of my father once again.

  Oh shit, here it comes.

  Dad sat down in the empty seat next to me and looked down at my magazine. “Broadway Joe, huh?”

  “Yeah.” I smiled at him nervously. “He’s gone Hollywood.” I tried to keep the conversation light.

  “I saw him on Laugh In. He needs to stick to football,” Dad replied evenly.

  I chuckled. “Yeah, I agree.”

  The silence was deafening as I waited for the hammer to fall. I looked down again.

  “I want to talk to you about Susan,” Dad said, very matter-of-fact.

  “Susan?” I laughed nervously, my voice quivering. “She’s cool.” I kept my eyes focused on the magazine.

  “Did you and Susan have sex together?” he asked, wasting no time in getting to the point.

  My father was not the type of man to “beat around the bush.” I suppose you can’t be the chief financial officer of a ten-million dollar private equity firm without being direct.

  My initial response was to say “no”, but I’ve never been able to lie to my father or either of my parents for that matter.

  “Daaad.” I lifted my head and rolled my eyes.

  “Did you, Son?” His eyes narrowed. I felt them boring through my skull again.

  I concentrated on the click-clack sound of the train racing over the tracks as time seemed to slow to a crawl. Finally, I hung my head and slowly nodded.

  “Did you use protection?” I felt his Superman-like laser beams shooting from his eyes and frying my brain.

  “Umm…she said…she was…on the pill.” I mumbled; my face becoming flushed, unable to look him directly in the eyes.

  Dad sighed loudly. “God damn, Shawn! That is my boss’ daughter! If he found out, I could get fired!”

  “I’m sorry, Dad.” I look at him remorsefully, my eyes starting to
water with the sudden feeling of disappointment that I had let him down. “It’s just…she wanted me and…she’s so beautiful. I couldn’t help myself.” I shook my head.

  Dad studied me as ten more click-clacks echoed through the train car. The last time I’d been in trouble with my father was three years prior when Brad and I got to playing truth or dare in my treehouse one night and Brad dared me to climb over the fence and swim a lap in the Peterson’s pool in the nude. I would have gotten away with it, if I hadn’t slipped climbing back over the fence, fell, and broke my arm. Of course, it had to happen on the Peterson’s side of the fence. Mr. Peterson found the stunt quite amusing, my father did not. I felt myself slightly trembling waiting for the hammer to fall. Thankfully my father did not believe in corporal punishment, but his groundings could be just as bad.

  Finally, his brow lifted slightly.

  “Damn, Son.” He shook his head and sighed. “I suppose I can’t blame you. I saw the way she was looking at you when she walked in the room the first night.”

  “What do you mean?” My eyebrows lifted.

  “Son. You have the Stuart Curse.”

  “Stuart Curse?” I asked, confused.

  “Women find us Stuart men irresistible.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Don’t ever tell your mother this, but women proposition me all the time when I’m traveling.”

  “They do?” I raised my voice wondering why he was telling me this.

  “Yes, they do, and never once have I cheated on your mother. Never once. I’m telling you this because you’re going to find in life, just because an opportunity presents itself, it’s not always a good idea to seize it.” He paused. “Look, I realize that you’re a teenage boy and it’s difficult to control your urges, but think before you act next time.” His eyes finally relaxed.

  I nodded. “I understand, Dad, and I’m sorry.” I hung my head in shame once more.

  Dad put his arm around me. “Hey.”

  I slowly lifted my head and peered up at him.

  “It’s okay, buddy.” He gave me a little smile, pulled me close, and patted me on the shoulder.

  I let out a sigh of relief that my father could be so understanding of the situation, and I felt no shame in telling him how I felt about it.

  “I love you, Dad,” I said warmly.

  “I love you too, Son,” he returned.

  Chapter Six

  Strutting down the hall Monday morning, I felt like a man again. My attraction toward Brad had been a fluke; a misdirected target of my sexual urges. One night with Susan and everything felt right in the world once again. I was a ladies’ man.

  I spotted a group of football jocks congregating near the door to the band room with their cheerleader girlfriends hanging all over them. A sense of comradery washed over me, knowing that I was now a card-carrying member of the Non-Virgins’ Club; and while they had their silly little high school girlfriends, I had me a college woman. Okay, so Susan wasn’t like my girlfriend, but she was a good friend, and we had sex together. The “sex together” being the most important aspect of the friendship.

  I stopped and got a drink from the water fountain before heading to my locker in hopes of running into Brad, in order to make my amends. As I approached my locker, someone jumped in front of me making me gasp.

  “Hey, Shawn.” Tabitha grinned from ear to ear.

  “Hey, Tabitha.” I forced a smile.

  “I had the flu last week, it was awful.” She quickly shook her head. “Did you miss me?” Her voice rose, much to my annoyance. At least her being out sick for a week seemed to have given her a much needed attitude adjustment.

  “Um…yeah…sure,” I lied.

  “Good. ‘Cause I missed you,” she chirped, her words punching me in the gut. I wondered if she sensed how much I was missing her absence.

  My eyes brightened. Maybe the flu gave her a newfound look on life. Maybe she wants a relationship based on friendship, love, and respect; not one based on using me to lift her social status. Maybe I should give her another chance, I thought.

  “Anyway, Jenny McIntosh is having a party Friday night, and I want you to escort me.”

  With those words, my bright Monday morning suddenly dimmed. After being paraded around the dance floor like a prized poodle at a dog show, I had no desire to do it again. In fact, I was glad she was out sick last week, because it gave me more time to figure out how I was going to give her the brush off.

  “Um…my grandmother’s sick and I have to go see her in Greenwich,” I replied quickly, obviously unsuccessful in coming up with a good way of telling her to get lost.

  “Oh.” Her face dropped. “I’m sorry.” She frowned. “What’s she got?”

  “Malaria,” I spouted, obviously without thinking.

  She cocked her head and gave me a questioning look. “Malaria? Isn’t that like a tropical disease?”

  “Yeah. She and my grandpa do missionary work in Panama.” I dug the hole deeper. “She caught it there.”

  “Oh.” She gave me a sympathetic look. “I see.”

  “Yeah.” I shook my head. “Bad stuff, but she’s tough as nails.”

  God, Shawn, could you lie any worse? Is she really going to believe this shit? I asked myself.

  “Yeah,” she said sadly. “Well, if she gets better, let me know.”

  “Okay, I will…I mean…if she gets better.” I gave her another insincere smile.

  I looked down at my watch. “Well, I need to get to class. I’ll talk to you later,” I spoke quickly before darting away.

  • • •

  At lunch, I plopped down next to Matt and placed my tray on the table.

  “Have you seen Brad today?” I asked as I watched him stuff a bite of pork chop into his mouth.

  “Nuuuuh. Uh.” He shook his head, his mouth full.

  “Weird.” I stabbed my fork into the piece of boneless processed meat that looked as though it had been pressed into a mold to resemble the shape of pork chop.

  He tried to speak. “Mabeee he tsick.”

  I lifted the piece of meat and examined it. “Yeah, I guess.” I curled my lip in disgust and laid the pork chop back on my plate.

  Matt swallowed and pointed to my plate with his fork. “You gonna eat that?”

  “Be my guest.” I picked up my dinner roll and pushed my plate away.

  I glanced behind Matt and spotted Tabitha heading my way.

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh God.”

  “What?” Matt followed my eyes.

  “Tabitha.” I sighed.

  “Dude! What’s your deal with her? I’d give my right nut to have Tabitha Fay interested in me.” Matt went back to his pile of food.

  “Well, you can have her.”

  “Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “Like that would ever happen.”

  I hadn’t told Matt about the experience of being Tabitha’s show dog at the dance. Matt would have told everyone and at the time I wasn’t quite ready to deal with the fallout when it got back to her; but now, I really didn’t care.

  “If you want her, just tell her your dad owns Derbyshire Savings and Loan.”

  “Huh?” He looked at me confused. “My dad is an accountant at Molder’s Plastics.”

  “Hmm.” I shook my finger at him and squinted. “That just might be enough to get you one date. Is he the chief accountant?”

  He tilted his head not understanding.

  “Never mind.” I sighed.

  “Hi, Shawn,” Tabitha greeted again as she walked around the table and sat down next to me.

  “Hi, Tabitha.” I groaned and scooted my chair away from her a few inches. Matt gave me a questioning look.

  “So, Shawn,” she said all sweetly, obviously not noticing me distancing myself from her. “Did you do anything exciting this weekend?”

  The girl had some nerve invading my lunch territory. I was now officially annoyed and wasn’t going to dare add more fuel to her social-climbing ammunition tank by telling her I spent the weekend i
n a Manhattan penthouse.

  “Yeah, I helped Dad unclog a backed-up toilet,” I said with a smirk.

  “Sounds like a shitty weekend,” Matt punned.

  “Ba-dum-tss.” I pantomimed a rimshot.

  “Oh,” she said uncomfortably. “I went shopping with Mom.”

  “Nice.” I began mindlessly stirring my mashed potatoes with my fork trying to force a silence in hopes it would make her leave.

  After a few minutes, with the only sound coming from our table being that of Matt smacking his mouth eating rice pudding, Tabitha stood up.

  “Well, I’m gonna go chat with Penny about the party.” She looked down at me. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Later.” I kept my head down.

  Flipping her hair as she walked off, Matt glared at me wide-eyed. “Dude, you totally blew her off.”

  “Yep.” I took a sip of milk.

  “Dude. You’re crazy to throw away a girl like that.” He turned and looked toward Tabitha and her gaggle of friends.

  “There are a lot better girls than her.” I stood up. “Believe me,” I said as the thought of Susan ran through my mind again.

  Monday, November 5, 1973

  Dear Journal,

  I am so confused and scared right now I want to cry. My world feels like it has been turned upside down again. The events from this afternoon have made me an emotional mess. It all happened during swim practice.

  I had just entered the locker room to change into my swimsuit, when I spotted a new guy sitting on the bench in front of my locker pulling off his sneakers. I walked over to my locker and glanced down at him. He looked up, smiled, and introduced himself. He tells me he’s a junior transfer student from New Canaan High.

  As I’m pulling off my shirt, I couldn’t help but watch as he did the same. I have never in my life seen a sixteen-year-old swimmer in as good of shape as him. He actually had an eight-pack of abs! Hell, there’s several six-packs on the swim team, I’ve got a set myself, but it was like every muscle in his entire body bulged under his skin and it wasn’t like body-builder big muscle; it was toned muscle. I couldn’t help but stare, but for the first time in my life, I realized this wasn’t my usual body envy. I felt turned on! Just like the night I saw Susan in her bikini! I wanted to touch him, rub my hands all over his body, and feel every single one of those muscles beneath my fingertips. I felt things starting to rise and it took all the willpower I had to stop it.

 

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