Queer bent bastard

I walked him to the door. “Thanks for stopping by to see how I was,” I said.

“No problem,” he replied as he held out his fist. We tapped and he was off and running to his car.

Just before he got there, he turned and shouted, “Hey Chad! You doing anything on Saturday?”

“No!” I shouted back.

“Well you are now!” he shouted. “Pick you up at ten! Bring your swimming gear!” and he was gone.

Okay. I thought chatting like old friends was weird. Now he was going to pick me up on Saturday to hang out and go swimming. Wow.

He had also given me a lot to think about from our chat, especially the part about a lot of the kids not caring that I was gay. Was avoiding school really necessary? Would I be okay if I went back? Would people leave me alone? I knew they sure as hell would if I was walking with Kent…but would he be as open and accepting at school as he was here? I was going to stay home for the next few days for sure, anyway. First of all, the bruise on my hip was beginning to really hurt, and second, I wasn’t sure I was ready to face Jason quite yet. Besides, I had Saturday to think about, and Kent. Hmmm, Kent…6’2″, dark blond hair, kind of greyish-blue eyes, a gorgeous smile and body to die for.