Theatre Kisses
By: William Tyler King
(Copyright 2005-2007 by the author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

It was my senior year of high school in 1983 and I was one of three high school students going to the National Thespian competition in New Orleans. Our drama students that were going were booked into a huge Radisson Hotel with hundreds of other students from throughout the United States. I was in a duet-acting scene with a sophomore named Julie Kurtz. We were doing a scene from “Taming of the Shrew.” Julie was my best friends and she was rooming with another girl from a nearby school. I was rooming with Ross, a senior from our school who did a Mime routine. Ross was from a different click than me. Drama was split right down the center between the wild hedonists, like me and Julie who subscribed to the “Sex-Drugs-n- Rock-n-Roll school of Liaise Faire Philosophy, and Ross’s click which was comprised almost entirely of haughty southern Baptists who prayed to a vengeful and spiteful god to relieve their sexual repression and profound boredom. This chasm was deep and well maintained, so much so that outside of school our two groups would never meet.
 
 Julie and I had met the year before and had begun to spend more and more time together since we’d met doing an acting scene in drama class. She had come from Seattle with her dad who moved here for a job, She’d clung to me for the social life and the parties I could get her invited to, and I had latched onto her as a life line to the world out side of DeLand, the evolutionary equivalent in 1983 of the old “Land of the Lost” Saturday morning show. Except we had no sinister lizard men shooting lame cross bows at us, we had religious fanatics assuring us that our carousing and frivolous life styles were a sure path to the fiery lakes of Hell.
 
 Julie had introduced me to a great many of the aspects of the world unfolding beyond the borders of our small backwater town whose isolation held us in place like love-bugs to a windshield. She had brought with her the music, culture, philosophies and fashions of a here fore unknown world which raged beyond our primordial borders in our corner of the Jurassic land of the Americas. MTV had only just come on the air and only a few households had it yet. Julie though, made a musical convert out of me as she introduced bands like Gary Newman, the Ramones, the B52s, The dead Kennedy’s, Gang of Four, the Police, Devo and the Violent Femmes. I copied her records and tapes religiously and the two of us ordered albums, which the store clerk thought of as both obscene and satanic. When I ordered my first Elvis Costello Album he reacted to me as if I’d ordered a mail order abortion. What had bothered him most though was that I had taken his lord’s name in vain; one did not profane Elvis’s name lightly where I grew up.
 
 I was the first boy to have my ear pierced in my high school, something I’d never have gotten away with if my social standing hadn’t been so high. As a dedicated social climber though, I knew exactly how far I could push the envelope on individual expression, and how much I still had to abide by the norm-as ambiguous as it was. With the wide spread impact and availability of MTV, getting an ear pierced became all the rage later that year for druggies, surfers and the chronically hip wannabees. In that awkward time I’d begun moving to a different rhythm from those around me who still mourned the deaths of John Bonham and Keith Moon, those who yelled “FreeBird” at every concert they went to, and those who spoke of Led Zeppelin with the reverence Baptist Ministers spoke about the baby Jesus. I’d drifted away from Southern rock and hard rock music and towards punk and new wave with emphatic zeal.
 
 Although I sometimes felt guilty about it, I knew that the vast amount of time I’d spent with Julie had given everyone the impression that Julie and I were dating. It never occurred to me then that neither of us ever said much about girls or boys the way teens and friends tend to do. Only years later did it occur to me that our only interest in members of the opposite sex, was in the value of the gossip surrounding them.
 
 We belonged to an honorarium of sorts, which knew within moments any act worthy of repeating in our god forsaken antediluvian fiefdom. Within our click, it wasn’t athletic prowess or how wealthy your father was that mattered, it was in the value of the information you had--the more shocking and awe inspiring and fresh the news was--the better. A choice bit of gossip could earn a person a bump up the social ladder just as surely as a touch down or dating up on the social hierarchy.
 
 The first night we arrived at the thespian conference, the planners had arranged a huge dinner for all the participants in a massive banquette hall. Our group was seated with groups from Michigan, Maine, the New York, and Wisconsin. There were exactly 20 of us at our big round table including two chaperones that left almost immediately after dinner had been served, we neither asked nor cared where they had gone. Shortly after we’d found our seats, I became fascinated by this apollonian god from the Bronx that was seated with us, his charisma was breathtaking and I knew everyone there was as captivated as I was. My strongest urge that moment was to be cool and not make an ass of myself-though I was so far beyond self-conscious then, I couldn’t think of anything funny or witty to say. I discovered by quietly listening, that his name was Anton, how totally sexy was that? His accent and speech just dripped inner city urban jungle. Could it get any more Westside story? Anton was of either Italian or Greek ancestry based on his Olive skin and curly black hair and five-o-clock shadow at age 17… Based on the fact that his name was Anton and he was from the Bronx-I was betting he was Italian.
 
 I was too self-conscious to eat that night and only barely noticed Julie talking to a girl from Michigan who sat beside her. Anton had decided to hold court and he quickly became our group leader by unspoken but unanimous decision. Throughout dinner and the pre dinner speeches Anton amused us with pointed questions at each of us, favorite places to drink- where you were when you first made it with someone of the opposite sex-he asked the girls if they’d ever kissed another girl. Ross got up early and went over to sit with someone he’d known from Alabama. “cool” I thought, I didn’t want him returning to school with observations or opinions about how gaga over this boy I was being. (I was certain everyone there KNEW what I was thinking) Throughout dinner, Anton interrogated or investigated us one at a time, asking question as naturally as asking a person their name, but his questions where much more provocative. We answered them though-he had some gift that made us all obey his wishes. His deeply accented voice rang out with, “So, Susie, you eva eat an Italian sausage befaw?” “hey, Louie, you eva hea’ about the Priest, the rabbi, the faggot, and the fama’s daughta befaw?” “Hey Robert, do those guys from Alabama really marry theh’ own sistas?” He asked his questions with the same temerity an ordinary person would ask about names and hometowns.
 
 Anton was a gifted and impressive, not to mention self appointed, social director and the students from his school in particular gave his edicts far more credence than the did those from the now absent teacher. Regardless of how rude a question could be, he was simply too beautiful, charismatic and self-assured to get angry at. And it wasn’t just me, I was faltering from a huge serge of hormones, but everyone seemed totally willing to let him lead us. My opinions were deeply subjective then, fueled by lust and teenage preoccupation with images, but his power extended over everyone present, female, male and gay alike.
 
 After dinner, we all stayed for a short time as the organizers arranged some lame 1950s sock hop. Anton though had other plans, in small groups about 18 of us from New York, Florida, Michigan, Maine and Wisconsin, snuck out in small groups to later meet in Anton’s suite. Once we’d all assembled there, Anton spelled out his rules: “Ok, eef we’ gunna stay up hea’ wit out getting in trouble, weh’ gunna hafta keep da fuck’n noise down, got it? And eef ya gotta smoke, do it by the fuck’n window and blow it out da window! I don wanna reek a luk a fuck’n ashtray t’morra at the stage. Anton then assigned people to specific tasks, he ran things like a general runs his army. Several members of his home posse broke out bottles of wine and other liquors, others got out plastic cups and mixers, two girls with Julie cleaned off a long dresser top while Simoan and her boyfriend Dan went and filled several buckets with Ice. When our little military operation was done, I admired the absolute precision that had accompanied it. When Simoan and Dan sat the ice down, Anton held out his hands and said “Viola! Drinks are served.”
 
 As a girl named Audra made Anton a drink, Dan said, “And the bar is now open folks.” As we were all getting our drinks, a boy from Michigan named Chet pulled out a joint and asked if it was cool. On cue, all eyes in the room turned to Anton. He smiled and moved over to Chet, put his arm around Chet’s shoulder as he moved him to the window,
 
 “Man, that’s an excellent idea!”
 
 On cue, most of us wondered over to the window area, the exceptions were the girl from Maine and two girls from New York. The joint did two circles around our communal group, and was but a pinprick when it came to me the second time. A girl named Lee-Ann produced a second joint as Dan put the first one to rest. When that one ran out, Anton was clearly annoyed by the halfhearted preparations we had all made for what he saw as a clear-cut party night.
 
 Julie and I shot looks at one another and broke out into huge devious grins, we had the answer to Anton’s dilemma over the halfhearted preparations in our room. When Julie mouthed “Go on, get it.” I almost ran through the entire mob of people on my way to pick up our surprise and gain Anton’s respect, which by this time was right up there with Oxygen as far as I was concerned. I hadn’t felt such an all consuming and desperate need for approval since I was in Junior high.
 
 As I got back to Anton’s room panting and trying to catch my breath I held up the treasure I ran off to retrieve, Julie and I had brought a quarter once of high grade bud with us. We’d gotten it either to celebrate with if either of us won, or to console ourselves with if we lost. THIS though was an infinitely better use of our pot as far as I was concerned. At this point, forces way beyond my control were leading me.
 
 When Anton saw what was in the bag I held up for his benefit, he exploded in a vast Mediterranean sea of white teeth and dimples.
 
 “My MAN!” he said as he came forward and raised his hands to do a double high five. “My MAIN Man!” He amended himself. I was high off his excitement but was completely away when he stepped up and put his arms around me and bent me over like Scarlet O’Hara and kissed me on the lips.
 
 I was so shocked by this that I instinctively fought back and tried to get out of his hold on me. But struggle as I did I heard the room laughing at my predicament as I was held in the precarious position by two arms that held me tightly. Anton was a fair amount larger than I was and his hold on me was firm- that is unless I wanted to fall over backwards on the floor.
 
 My poor mind couldn’t deal with this assault on my closet doors by this young god. The conflict in me was immense, 18 years of denying who I was and pretending to be someone different doesn’t just disappear. It’s true that a very load voice in my head was screaming, “YES YES YES!” but all those years of living off my instincts which were protecting me didn’t just give up. I lay in those arms that I longed to have wrapped around me, in a stupefied cyclone of emotions. Despite my little world being blown apart, not so much as a paper cup or piece of tissue paper was rattled by the force.
 
 When Anton had finished kissing me and stood me back upright, I didn’t even realize that in my awkward state, he’d taken the baggy out of my hands. I had been so utterly unprepared for what had just happened; that I stood wide-eyed gawking at Anton. My response had been so pathetic, that the entire room began laughing at me and my vain attempt to look composed and cool.
 
 The one person not laughing at me was Anton, he wrapped his arm around me protectively and ushered me to the window like a bodyguard. After he’d loaded his pipe, he handed it to me ceremonially to start. I took a huge hit, praying that it would calm me down and give me the will power not to reveal too much to these people after what they’d all just seen. I had been drawn into Anton’s charisma, his beauty, his addictive self-assurance, and charm like I had never been drawn to anyone ever in the past. I felt all this, and yet he terrified me, the uncertainty of what was making him act this way towards me, his absolute beauty and heroin like musk. I stood weakly, leaning against the wall for support as I handed him the pipe, at that moment we were all alone in that crowded room. I watched every microsecond of him inhaling through his gorgeous olive lips and then as his lungs filled and he exhaled a billowing cloud of acrid sweet smelling smoke.
 
 I was still reeling from the unexpected kiss which had followed his overwhelming excitement at the pot I’d produced, when Anton placed an arm over my shoulder and pulled me against him, “Easy there sport” He said as he steadied me so I didn’t fall. He then leaned in and put his lips right next to my ear and said, “Hmmm, looks like yaw drink ees empty…”
 
 I was stunned, this god who had just kissed me, was now holding me and putting his arm around me as he was whispering in my ear. I couldn’t believe all this was happening. The secret part of me that no one knew about was secretly eating this up, for that matter, most other parts of me were apparently enjoying the attention too-even if they were too scared to admit it.
 
 Anton handed my glass to Simoan and said, “Hea’, make my man hea’ a screw driver! And go heavy on the fucking screws!” As overwhelmingly special as that statement and his arm around me made me feel, I was conscious of the fact that I alone in the room was sweating. I was also relatively sure that none of them was on the verge of throwing up either.
 
 For the first time in many, many years, I was overwhelmingly self-conscious, and both unsure and uncomfortable. I was hesitant about what to say or how to act. I was more nervous and more unbalanced than I had been in Junior high when I didn’t know anyone. The one thing I was grateful for was that Anton was exceedingly grateful for the pot, and his gratitude and approval of me right now afforded me a great deal of social leeway. I knew that a few of the guys were looking at us funny, trying to figure out what even I couldn’t quite understand. It was very common practice for those in drama circles to play act as gay or lesbian but it was something all together different, at least in my small corner of the South Eastern Pliocene, to carry it to this length.
 
 I needed to talk with Julie, to ask what she thought, to hear her encouragement or disapproval, but when I looked over at her, she was deep in conversation with a girl from Michigan and another from New York. She didn’t even seem to notice me or what was going on. All of a sudden Anton leaned into me and ran his nose from the nape of my neck slowly up so that his mouth eventually covered my ear, the electricity I was feeling was almost painful in its exhilaration
 
 “Hey Man, yaw kinda quiet, wassup?” he purred using his lips to touch my hypersensitive ears. My skin suddenly felt as though it had been frozen, goose bumps ran the entire length of my shoulder and neck. I was suddenly aware of the harrowing fact that I stood here; I was turning a dozen shades between scarlet and plumb. Somehow, I miraculously managed to pull myself together enough to hold my cup up and quip, “I don’t know man; I think someone put something in my OJ!” Anton roared in laughter, he thought it was so funny he made me repeat it twice to different groups. Anton then turned to me and as only the over confident can do, he turned to me and said, “Ya know man, You’re aw’right, I like ya.”
 
 I wonder now what he’d have thought if he’d known how alright it with me all this was, especially with his arm draped over me. The thought then occurred to me that my hard on should have been clearly evident to anyone looking at me from several feet away who noticed my bulging jeans.
 
 When the pipe came back around Anton actually took it and held it up to my lips gently pressing it for me to use. If I survived the immediate and endemic stress this was causing me, I thought it possible that I might grow to actually appreciate this. My over riding goal now, was to act cool, both to impress Anton, and because it was my reflexive defense mechanism. It was how I had learned to react and deal with most of the problems I had faced. Acting cool never solved a problem, but it did prove to others how stable and in control, I was so I could deal with the issue. In High School, image was everything.
 
 Inevitably, one of three things seems to always happen when groups of drunk and or stoned drama students are left on their own: Charades, Drinking games, or “Truth or Dare.” On this night, Truth or Dare prevailed as the game of choice. As has been the custom and tradition from the times of our fore fathers to the present, eleven of every ten questions dealt with sex, and almost as many dares seemed to follow that rule.
 
 Anton was a natural magnet for people to single out for both questions and dares; it wasn’t long at all before he was shirtless and kissing girls on his dares. Anton, Simoan, Dan, Brenda and I were all on the big king sized bed while the others sat around the room in chairs or on counters and dressers. I sat next to Anton on the bed with our backs against the headboard. Our shoulders and legs were touching innocently, yet these exhilarating sensations were driving me insane, I could feel little waves of electric energy passing between us so clearly, it was inconceivable to me that he could be unaware of them. To say this god distracted me would be a crime against semantics. I sat weakly trembling, over conscious of my breathing, trying to inhale his scent, fragrant with cheap cologne.
 
 I sat next to him pretending to pay attention to the game while stealing clandestine peaks his olive skin and already hairy youthful pecks poking out from his shirtless chest. I saw how the top button of his 501s were undone, presenting for everyone to see, his forbidden trail that lead to unimaginable treasures. Though to be honest, I was spending a great deal of time imagining the treasures.
 
 I sat next to him listening to his authoritative voice barking out orders and opinions as though he ruled the place and all those therein; and in fact, he did. No one in my coterie at home had ever managed to meld so much style and flare with Anton’s level of Machismo, guy next store gusto, and natural authority. Actually, no male I could think of back home had any flare or style.
 
 Anton’s approval had become more intoxicating to me than all the chemicals and drugs I had ever taken, More important to me than this trip or any awards I might win at this contest, And it was more seductive than any social accolade I might win back home. As each moment passed, his approbation became more meaningful than all the reputation I had developed back home on the face of my closet door. But my trepidation was the tantamount emotion night: fear that I would be caught looking too long at a spot only girls were welcomed to look at, fear that I might be asked too personal a question and be called out if I lied. Most of all, I was panicking because I could feel my resolve to remain in the closet failing me, I could feel the closet doors opening ever so slightly.
 
 Emotions welled in me like a great serpent panting it’s hot breath on my neck, twisting and turning in my guts and throat, slowly trying to twist it’s way out of me. I was tempted at this point to let the doors fly open and release the secret I had buried so carefully.
 
 My fears though, were not realized as a result of any questions I answered or admissions of mine, but as a result of Jeremy’s dare. Jeremy was a lanky thin boy with thick curly blond hair, big wire rimmed glasses perched on a big pointed hawk-like nose. He was exceptionally effeminate and had a high-pitched voice. If I’d been paying closer attention, or if I’d had any previous knowledge about homosexuals, I might have realized that earlier that Jeremy was the first openly gay male I would meet. And although I hadn’t picked on Jeremy in any way, lets face it, I barely registered anyone but Anton. If I had realized it though, I would have seen his green-eyed envy the first time Anton kissed me, I wasn’t so straight acting that Jeremy didn’t see my big secret.
 
 “Ok Anton,” He said smugly in his high pitched voice, “I DARE you to kiss Robert on his lips for one minute.” Before I’d gotten a chance to even wonder if I’d heard him right, Anton rolled over towards me and flashed a big Latin smile at me and said, “Well, how bout that?” Like Tim Curry from the “Rocky Horror Picture Show,” complete with arched eyebrow and seductive sneer. Then, in one swift move, he rolled on top of me, placed his mouth over mine, and began gently trying to press his tongue against my teeth. At first, I struggled to get up, but he held me firmly beneath him as the room erupted into laughter. His body held me firmly beneath him as his lips locked on mine powerfully.
 
 Seventeen and a half years of learned behavior doesn’t just disappear with a single kiss, but this certainly shook the foundations of my resistance for all it was worth. One could use all the tired clichés about melting and falling ever written but not a single word comes close to painting the mental image I had of myself cascading across the sheets like hot fudge across vanilla ice cream.
 
 Anton’s kiss may have started out as only theatrical play, but when I responded and parted my lips, I felt his tongue slide into my mouth between my lips, it caused me to open my mouth wider, granting him the freedom to kiss me as he pleased. While our mouths were pressed together and his hands pulled me against him, I heard a low growl like purring sound coming from his throat. This elicited a moan as my reply.
 
 Anton’s tongue darted playfully in and out of my mouth and he held me to him as he lay atop me like a reticent date.
 
 The Knowledge that Anton wanted me burnt to ashes any lingering doubt I might have had about remaining in the closet, Like a Dresden Fire Storm the freedom and passion raced through my chest, Singeing the fibers of my arms and legs.
 
 “THIS!” I thought, “Is what a kiss should feel like. These aren’t the soft puffy weak girls lips trying to suck strength from me like the few girls I’d kissed, THESE lips were strong, forceful, powerfully invasive, potent and erotic. I now understood just how mind blowing a kiss could be. I didn’t have to pretend to like this, I didn’t have to keep from gagging over the soft flesh invading my mouth, these lips were muscular, letting me know they were here for business.
 
 I had just moved my hands to hold Anton the same way he was holding me to himself, when he ended the kiss. My mind was suddenly filled with despair; he couldn’t be ending this so soon, I wasn’t ready to release him yet. And although I tentatively tried to hold him to me, I was unprepared to try and force him when he released me and pulled back. All of a sudden, I heard the circle that had formed around us laughing at our little show; I didn’t know if it were because I had been discovered or because they thought I was playing gay for humorous effect.
 
 Anton suddenly spoke up though, shattering the laughter, “Ok, EASE off you buncha fucks!” Anton roared before seeking revenge on Jeremy by daring a girl named Bethany to kiss the whiny protesting Jeremy for a minute. Our performance appeared to win us accolades from the room, so much so, that for the next hour or so Anton and I were dared into a degenerating spiral of debauched exhibitions. First, they dared me to lick wine off Anton’s chest and abdomen as she poured it on his chest from her cup. Of course, the only way to do this was for me to lay my face against his abdomen and use my lips and tongue to lap it up. Realizing this, I hovered above his abdomen unsure of how to begin as Simoan began to pour. Finally, Anton said, “Ay! Robby, you gunna start licking or am I supposed to have a wet lap the rest of the night?” I was going to apologize when he took my head and brought it firmly down to his abdomen. I licked and sucked at the sour wine trying desperately to distinguish his flavors from those of the cheap wine. I silently prayed that Simoan’s cup would never run out, but when she did finally stop, I began, in discouragement, to push myself back up. Then Anton was grabbing my face in both his hands and exclaiming, “Whoa Robby boy, the’z still a mess ta clean up!” as he pulled my face to the undone button of his jeans. I licked and suck that glorious trail and snaked my tongue into the band of his underwear. Slowly though his hands moved my tongue up his belly. On my own volition though, I had begun to lick and suck and lustily frenched his belly button savoring his flavor along with the wine. I then licked languidly up his abdomen and lower chest, tasting the wine, cologne, and heady musk all gathered in a fine tangle of black hairs. After sucking on his neck for a few seconds, I ended with a brief duel of our tongues.
 
 “I tell ya, it’s always da quiet ones!” Anton said as he ended the kiss and sat up, grabbing the pipe as it passed by us once again.
 
 For my turn I decided to go after Jeremy as he’d done to me twice already, he chose “truth” which was good because I had some crewel ideas of what I could have him do…for his wimpy “truth” though, I had him state, now that it was obvious to all that he was gay, Which guy in the room he wanted to be with, and what he wanted to do with that guy. Naturally, he chose Anton, but all he wanted to do was suck on his toes, I thought it was a bizarre, weird, and a gross waste, of time as well as Anton.
 
 A while later, Anton was instructed to sit behind me with his legs out so I was in front of him, he was then instructed to slowly take my shirt off while kissing my neck licking my ears and tweaking my nipples. I sat stunned, as this wasn’t Jeremy’s dare, it was a small guy from Michigan named Kurt. Anton rolled over to face me and grinned at me, “Ya get the feelin’ theh’ tryna fix us up aw something?” He asked before he slid in behind me roughly but playfully as he spread his legs and pulled me back against him then ran his strong hands up my body and slid my green t-shirt off. I turned darker than a bruised tomato as he pulled me against him and began to gently suck on my ear lobe. I was in both total ecstasy and shocked indecision as he began to use his thumb and forefinger to squeeze and roll my hairless nipples. When I let out a weak involuntary moan, the room began to laugh, it was then Anton that used his body to push me over so he could begin kissing and licking and sucking my neck. I gasped and drew in air so quickly that I got dizzy. Anton spent several luxurious minutes kissing the back of my neck and running his hands passionately across my body. Finally, with his mouth over my ear and hot moist breath caressing my ear and cheek, he growled, “Hey, Robby boy, you got a big lump in your pants.” I just moaned in agreement as his words were replaced by a big, hot, wet tongue that tried to lick my brain. “Shit!” One of the girls named Tessa said, “Do you have that effect on everyone?” “Don’t know ‘bout everyone Tessa, but ‘t sure worked this way on you!” He said before licking me from the Nape of my neck to my anxious ear. It didn’t even seem odd to me then that Anton had done this with girls; I only knew I didn’t want him to stop. Without releasing me or removing his hands, Anton dared Kurt to kiss and suck Jeremy’s toes. This gave both of them horrified looks.
 
 I barely paid any attention to the game after this; I laid luxuriously against Anton, allowing him to run his hands over me and his lips to caress the now awakened parts of my neck. After a half hour of this, Anton was dared to stick his hands down the front of my pants and grope me, I laid back on him fully and sucked in my tight tummy to make it easier for him. He laughed when he was doing it, and his hands wrapped around me as he kissed the side of my face. I just gasped for air and moaned as he said softly, “Ay, I think theh’s something down hea’” which got a big laugh from everyone. Then Anton gave me a truth or dare, I was scared so I picked Truth, He ran his fingers up and down my chest giving me goose bumps as he asked, “So Robbie boy, (a name I now loved though I’d have tortured anyone back home for calling me that) You wanna stay hea t’night?” I fell back against him, don’t ask me why I’d never thought of this occurrence, but it surprised the hell out of me, I stuttered a few times as I thought about the fact that this would out me-though only to these kids and Julie, but still… Finally, I nuzzled into him and weakly said “Yeah!” I turned over as Anton was maneuvering me to do anyways, and he gave me the biggest open-mouthed kiss yet, and I just pressed my body into his and felt his hard on pressing at my belly.
 
 We played Truth or Dare a while longer and the girls seemed to take particular delight in having Anton and I pass mouths full of drinks back and forth, and Dan had us do it with pot smoke too.
 
 As the game was ending, by mutual consent, I took the time to disentangle myself from Anton so I could return all the screwdrivers to the porcelain god. Julie came up to me and said she needed to talk to me outside. I didn’t want to leave Anton, and I wouldn’t have for anyone else, But I could tell Julie needed to talk, and I wanted to know what she thought about my staying with Anton, and my apparent coming out.
 
 “Did you see the two girls I was sitting with?” She asked once she’d drug me outside, I had only noticed briefly, as Anton had been my main focus all evening. She told me they were both knew each other from last years competition, “One was from New York and the other was from Michigan,” She explained. She got quiet a moment than said slowly and softly, “They asked me so spend the night in their room.” Although she hadn’t yet used the words, I knew well enough to know she was coming out to me-I was so high on hormones just then I began to laugh, Julie looked perplexed a moment until I said, “Anton asked me to stay in his room too.” Then she began to laugh too, our mutual coming out hit us hysterically funny, as we’d never before broached the topic. We’d continued walking and were outside the hotel doors when we began to laugh so hard we were both crying and falling against one another. Moreover, every time we stopped, we’d notice the other and start all over again. This must have gone on a good ten minutes, and after the stress I’d felt that night, it just felt good to relax and release it.
 
 We finally composed our selves and managed to stand up, “You never noticed me and the two girls making out on the dresser?” Julie asked, “Are you kidding?” I replied, “Didn’t you see Anton and me together? I’m lucky I even knew anyone else was in the room.” “Yeah” Julie mused, “You two were quite the scene stealers,” She remarked, then added, “And you made a damned cute couple too!” She added with a grin then added, “For guys at least.” “Her face changed then, “Aren’t you scared of… well, you know.” She said using her hands to do a jack off mime. “Won’t it hurt?” I hadn’t thought of that yet, so I pondered a moment, “With Anton, it’ll be worth it!” I said bravely. Then I had a thought and it shocked me back to the present, “So what in hell are you guys gunna do?” I asked suddenly, “I mean, you all have innies, what exactly do lesbians do?” I asked confused. She smirked, “Baby, we all have fingers and tongues.” At that point, I made a gagging face and said, “OK! No more mental pictures please.” She just smiled and said, “Well, you asked.”
 
 As we walked around the block talking at Mach 10 as only best high school friends can do, we discussed what it would be like coming out, I told her my idea of moving to New York after High School and getting some small run down apartment we could barely afford as we went to college. I ran into a 24 hour convenience store when we walked passed it, as I wanted to be sure we had everything we’d need later, so I bought a few condoms and a small tube of KY. I couldn’t believe I had the nerve to do this, I was shaking like crazy and was very glad I had Julie with me, so the older middle eastern fellow would think it was for me and her, and not me and another guy. I also got some breath mints and a few sodas for Julie and me. When we left, I told her all about my dreams of what New York would be like for the two of us and she began talking about a road trip in the spring so we could both see our partners for Spring break. When the Elevator stopped on the 18th floor, Anton’s floor. We noticed a few of the other guests walking towards us, apparently the party was officially over, and as Julie hugged me, I saw the two girls she’d been with walking towards us expectantly. I KNEW in my heart that Anton was making them all leave so we could be together. I was so high at that moment; I could have danced on clouds and thrown stars at the moon.
 
 Realities are much to fragile at 17 and a half, Like aboriginal dream time, Fantasies and dreams are thought to be real, what one craves badly enough is Reality. My entire future, all the unspoken promises and dreams I’d woven together in my lofty emotions, came crashing back to earth when I opened the door to find Anton laying on that girl Tessa. My Anton was kissing her and rutting like a pig. Like a bowling ball smashing a huge plate-glass window, my world came crashing around my feet. I felt sick, as though I might throw up and Angry, I was so, SO goddamned angry! How does one deal with this? It would be bad enough under normal circumstances, but to be so high and euphoric one moment, and to have love and promises shattered on the floor the next… They never looked up from their love making, and I stood there like a smoldering rock, I vaguely was aware of a presence in the bathroom, as I turned briefly and saw Jeremy sneer at me, I was about a second away from punching him out. His balking face withdrew in fear as I faced him I turned back towards the two on the bed and I saw the baggy of our pot on the nightstand near Anton and his Pig. I grabbed the bag and turned to the door, I wanted Anton to stop me, to say, “Wait, I can explain.” And no matter what he’d have said, I would have forgiven him; I don’t think you can be as mad as I was at someone you didn’t love. But he didn’t stop, he didn’t try to stop me, all I heard as I left was Anton and Tessa rutting. I slammed that door, I slammed it as hard as I could, I’m sure everyone in the 30 story hotel heard it too.
 
 I wanted; no I NEEDED to talk to Julie, to cry on her shoulders to have someone feel sorry for me. But NO, SHE was with her girlfriends god knows where doing god knows what. So I was left all alone, broken and tired and so depressed I couldn’t even cry. My Anger at Anton suddenly refocused on Julie, how DARE she be off having sex while THIS was happening to me. I was seething as I rode the elevator back to the eighth floor, to my room. When I walked in, Ross was watching a rerun of Cheers, “Dude, you look awful, what’s the matter?” He asked turning the sound off. I pouted as I walked to my bed, “Nothing!” I managed to get out without crying… “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” He volunteered. I thought about telling him for a moment, about how he’d freak out if he knew he was rooming with a homosexual, how he’d spread the gossip at school when he got back, I thought about how he had no way of understanding what I was going through even if he did want to know. So I looked him in the eye and said, “No, I’d rather not talk about it” then I undressed and got in bed. Sleep did not come easily the night of promises and lies and great expectations, and Julie didn’t know why I was mad at her for over two weeks. I’m glad now I’m not seventeen and half anymore.

Posted: 04/07/07