Queer bent bastard

“So, it’s all over school then?” I asked.

“Yeah, pretty much,” he answered.

“You don’t seem too bothered by it,” I stated.

“Why should I be?” he asked.

I wasn’t really sure if I should open my big mouth again or not, but I figured that if he had heard the rumours and still came over, he was okay with it, true or not. I replied, “It’s true.”

“I kinda figured that too,” he said with a smile.

“So the fact that I’m gay doesn’t bother you?” I asked.

“Like I said, why should it?” he responded again.

“It shouldn’t…I guess…but it seems to bother everyone else,” I said.

“Don’t be so sure of that,” he said. “You might be surprised how many people couldn’t give a shit.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yeah, really,” he replied.

We moved on to other topics and were still visiting when Mom got back. It was almost surreal. We had gone to the same school for seven years and maybe said ten words to each other. Now, after he hit me with his car and found out I’m gay, we were suddenly chatting away like old friends…weird.

Soon after Mom got home, he glanced at his watch. “Oops, I’d better get going,” he said. “I promised my little brother I would help him fix his bike…like an hour ago.”