High School: Confusion
*1*
All throughout high school, I was the kid that always couldn't wait to get the fuck out of here. Westbrook high school was a nightmare, in my mind. It was filled with rude guys, bitchy girls, and teachers that didn't seem to understand for a second what it felt like to be a teenager. It sucks.
Being a gay teenager is probably harder than people would think when you go to a school where there seems to be nobody else like you. Sure, there are a few guys that are gay, but they are just awful. First, there's Kevin Turkel. He is one of the trashiest guys I've ever met. He would be one of those gay guys who would post pictures of themselves on facebook, barely wearing any clothes, so that the 2,000 random gay guys he friend requested could jerk off to what they could never attain. The next was Chuck Cuilla. He was a nice guy, I guess. He was just so girly! He talks like one, acts like, the whole package. Don't get me wrong, I like a nice cock, but it needs to have a guy attached to it. The only other guy I know of is Rick. Rick was probably my obsession for most of ninth and tenth grade. I was in love with him. Eleventh grade came around, and we finally hooked up. Well, hooked up and then some. We just stopped talking after that. And then there's me, Troy Verrity. 18 years old, just like everybody else in the senior class by this point.
Despite hating high school the first years of my attendance, I've come to realize that this last month is the last time I'll have to see any of these people. It's made me realize that I am going to miss some. It's also made me realize this is not only my last chance, but everyone's last chance, to say or do what they always wanted to do to anyone they wanted to do it with. At the top of my list was to seduce one of the many straight guys here, or even just one guy that I never knew was gay. I'm tired of jerking off most nights, and fantasizing on my short romance with Rick. I want something new and exciting in my life.
*2*
Probably one of the most dreadful sounds a teenager can hear in the morning is the incessant buzz the alarm clock makes at 7 AM. Mostly because it indicates where you're about to go. These days, school is mostly pointless. I've already been accepted into a university, and I basically just go with the motions at school now.
First period Economics. I mostly just sit there and hear the sound out of my radically bald teacher. It's a strange sight to see a bald head with a face full of facial hair. The wonders of the male body. While on the topic, there is also another wonder in my classroom: Paul Wagner. The epitome of a douchebag, but goddamnit was he hot. He was small, about 5'6, which I liked. Standing at nearly 6'0, I like being the tall one in the relationship. He had dirty blonde hair, and always dressed and smelled so sexy. He was just such a fucking douche! He knew he was hot shit, and took advantage of the things he could get out of it. He always liked how he was "the oldest one in the grade" having a very early November birthday. The bell rang without me even hearing it, and I only knew the period was over by the sight of Paul gathering his papers to get to his next class.
Lucky for me, second period Psychology was conveniently in the same room. So I adjusted my seat to where I was assigned and waited for the class to filter in. The remainder of the day was mostly a blur, I would walk like a zombie from classroom to classroom, seeing friends, teachers and other gorgeous guys in the process.
Seventh period was one of my favorites in the day. I had band, which was alright, but it had another gorgeous guy in the room. Shawn Gaffney, a senior, was flawless. He had a real "punk" attitude, like he didn't give a shit about anything. He had short blonde hair, sometimes flipped to the front, and green eyes that make me melt. His small slender body fit perfectly into himself. He just turned 18 a few days ago, and he was already planning his birthday party for the weekend. He was one of those guys that always liked to play gay, and whenever he would do it with me, I would just writhe inside of my jeans.
