The First Attempt.
It was an "attempt" to say the least.
The first draft of my repurposing had major flaws, including but not limited to: too short, plot holes, and above all, messing up characters' names.
Here I am, starting off my Sweetland Minor in Writing with a story where I literally can't get the characters' names right.
"Well, Zach, it's okay, you probably had a lot of characters!"
Well, no.
There were two.
I literally included my own name instead of a character's at one point.
Aside from the embarrassing rookie mistakes, I was still getting somewhere. I took the sexual education policy paper and remolded it into a fictional story about two gay guys in a relationship with conflicting views on sexuality and sex. One guy is over-eager, another is terrified. One guy is open, the other hides his sexuality from his dad. I wanted to showcase how important sexual education is for everyone while tying in other themes of homophobia and how that has lasting effects on families, self worth, and even how LGBT people date.
I almost considering failing the class by not sharing this but here it is, my repurposing first draft.
I’m sitting in homeroom and I’m realizing my life is about to end. It’s 7:39am and my boyfriend will break up with me in approximately seven hours, 13 minutes, and 15 seconds. (Rough estimate.) How can I tell? Where did this incredible sense of prudence come from? Well, for starters I’m in my usual seat (back left corner) and my boyfriend isn’t in his (next to me). He looks preoccupied, focused. He looks sad. He’s avoiding me. Why isn’t he sitting next to me?
I should probably introduce myself: I’m Connor, timid, nearly perfect GPA, currently pissed off. Why? I made a list for your convenience:
My boyfriend’s name is Lex. Pretty wild name for two Midwestern parents to give to their child, right? It’s short for Alex. Self-proclaimed martyr and quite possibly the most self-absorbed prick you’ll ever meet.
He’s not sitting next to me.
I see him so obviously checking out the girl in front of him, I’m surprised they haven’t go to the bathroom to fuck yet. Oh yeah, Lex is bisexual. And pretty open about it. But we’re dating. (I think?)
I sound agitated, don’t I? It’s because I see this boy that I think I’m in love with get a raging boner when a girl asks him what the homework was. Not that I care it’s a girl, I’m fine with him being bisexual, but the fact that he bases so much importance off of sex, it’s unbelievable he isn’t constantly masturbating.
The issue is we haven’t had sex yet. The big buzz word it seems nowadays. I know what a vagina is and what a penis is, I understand how sex works. The problem comes in when you add gay in front of it. Gay sex is not sex. I understand that gay sex much be different mechanically, but why is it that when that small, three letter word gets added on, my heart sinks, I sweat, and I run. It’s 7:42am, we stand for the pledge of alliance, and my boyfriend’s dick is (thankful) soft.
---
They never warn you on how bad your first relationship will be. I mean, they might for straight people, but they definitely don’t for gay people. Actually, come to think of it, they don’t really tell us much. I’m gay. I know this even if my friends don’t. I know more about the female anatomy than how my own kind have sex.
---
Sparring you the details, I know real gay sex isn’t the same as in porn. Just trust me on this. It is physically impossible to feel that much pleasure from that much force. Regardless, I don’t watch porn. My dad’s pretty homophobic and even the thought of him potentially seeing gay porn on my internet history terrifies me. It’s best to just not even watch it. Adding to that, I’m trying to get into Harvard. I don’t have time to really explore sex when I have essay after essay that needs writing. I’ll have sex after I take the bar exam.
“Zach?” Someone’s calling me.
I remember. 7:45am. Homeroom. My boyfriend isn’t sitting next to me.
Mrs. Clarke just called my name for attendance.
“Oh- um, here.” I mumble, sulking a little bit in my chair. I hate attention. I know if I just said ‘here’ nonchalantly no one would notice. But my perception twists. I feel as if everyone is anticipating my next fuck up. Waiting to laugh in unison at the Class Dunce fulfilling his role yet again.
“Jon, if you keep day dreaming like that, you might not wake up!”
Did my teacher just imply I’m going to die?
A few students laugh. Automatically, my face gets red. I glance at Lex. I can’t get a read on him.
“Sorry, Mrs. Clarke.”
Homeroom ends and I go to first hour.
---
I first met Lex in Physics. He had just moved to our small town in Northern Wisconsin from Chicago. His mother is a pain specialist and she has relatives up near Duluth. Another pain specialist retired, she wanted to get away from the city life, and it just made sense. It was the first day and we had to pair up for the remainder of the school year. I looked around hopefully, and saw no one I recognized. I hate this part of class so much. Like what better way to say “Hey guys! I’m a total fucking loser!” than showcasing I have literally no friends in my class. I mean, I keep to myself, but I’m not a total hermit. I do have a few friends, believe it or not. As fate would have it, Lex and I were the lone ones out. And the rest was history.
---
8:00am. As I walk to English I make a list. I think of every possible thing Lex could be upset about. Did I do something wrong? Am I not satisfying him? Is he just sick? The anxiety is suffocating and all consuming. I verge on complete panic attack as I sit down in class. You see, I’m not trying to be dramatic. It’s just my brother, Sam, is also gay. When he was a senior, about four years ago, he had one too many shots at the Senior party after graduation. He came home, came out to my dad, threw up, then my dad punched him. Hard. Hospital ER Room hard. My dad gave my brother two options: either shut the fuck up and don’t tell anyone what happened, or I don’t pay for your college tuition. Old Sam would have succumbed. He would have gone to UCLA and walked right back into the closet he walked out of. But this Sam was different. He told our dad, our dad, he was gay. He was bold. Rebellious. Free. Sam choose Option C: leave. They haven’t talked since. I don’t even know where he is.
Unfortunately, I’m not rebellious. Bold. Free. I’m Connor with a near perfect GPA and a prospective student at Harvard. Once Sam left, I shut down. I stopped watching porn, I didn’t think about sex. I knew that if my dad even suspected I was gay the wrath would be ten times greater. I became a functional student that focused on nothing else.
Then Lex happened.
---
Lex doesn’t know about Sam. I couldn’t tell him. This… cool guy basically drops into my hands and makes me feel things I didn’t even know I could feel. And he doesn’t even try. He could just walk into a room and I melt. (A little cheesy, yes, but let me have this.) I’ve never had a girlfriend, I’ve never had a boyfriend, and Lex is all I have, whatever we are. Are we anything? Maybe I just overanalyzed his affection… God, I’m a mess. It’s 9:30am and I’m a mess.
---
It’s lunch time. 12:30pm. (Don’t worry, you didn’t miss much.) I’m sitting in the cafeteria that kind of looks like it functions as a chapel. There are these God awful stained glass murals that run along the ceiling and I’m pretty that one is the crucifixion.
Lex doesn’t sit with me.
---
I remember the first time I told him I didn’t want to have sex. We were at his friend’s party, naturally, alongside 15 other people. (Give or take four frat wannabes.) We had been hanging out a lot lately and he convinced me to at least drive to the party.
I looked at my watch. It’s 10:30pm.
I entered into a sea of people. I felt suffocated and panicked. Where’s the door? I need air. Where’s the door? On the verge of passing out from the fear of social embarrassment, I saw him. And he saw me, too. He gave me this look like he’d be waiting for me to show up. It made me uneasy.
He made his way through the crowd to me. Shouting over the music, “Hey! I didn’t think you’d show up.” He grabbed my shoulder and traced his hand down to mine.
“Yeah, I told you I’d show up.”
He rolled his eyes. “Wait, are you sober? Dude, you look rigid. Come take a shot!”
“But what about my car?” I was almost screaming, the music was so loud.
“What?”
“But what about-” It was no use. I had no idea where the exit is and I was being pulled to potentially die from alcohol poisoning.
We made our way from the large living room, up the stairs, down the hall, down another hall. “Wait. Why is the alcohol up here?”
“Dude, this is my room. You lucky bitch get to sample my premium collection.”
“Um, ha, alright.” I grabbed my arm. Was he able to tell I was uncomfortable?
“Holy shit, you need a drink.” He was able to tell.
We entered. He pointed to my bed. I sat.
“Okay, so, are you more of a wine kind of gay or a liquor?” He turned back and smiled at me. God, even when he’s drunk, he’s so charming.
“Liquor?”
This is the point I realized I made a mistake. I should have said no, left, and never spoken to him again. I wasn’t that attached and I certainly didn’t have to go through with this night. But I made my decision. I said liquor and my fate was sealed.
I took five shots before he made his first move.
I think a part of me wanted sex. I had been suppressing it for so long and there was this absolutely gorgeous man waiting for me to just unzip his pants. Maybe I thought if I drank enough, and smiled enough, he’d want me, too. I could blame it on the liquor and his aggressive attitude and not feel like I’m risky my future with my dad. I mean, he wouldn’t find out anyway, right?
Regardless of my intentions, I was in his room, on his bed, trashed. And he knew I was, too. The next logical step? He grabbed my knee. “Dude, you’re so funny.” He pauses and looks at me. “I’m so glad we became physics partners.” He smiles. “And you’re pretty cute, which I’m not complaining about.”
“You’re pretty cute, too.” I say before I even realize I’m saying it.
“Oh! Looks like Jon does know how to flirt. Or at least he tries.” Lex nudges me.
This is the moment where everything connects. This is why I’m saying all of this and why Lex isn’t talking to me, I’m sure if it. It’s because I didn’t fuck him. It’s because I’m not enough on my own, I know it. He tried to kiss me. I let him. He tried to grab my dick. I didn’t let him. What it boils down to his fundamentals: I wasn’t ready and he was. And he couldn’t fucking wait.
I didn’t have sex with my boyfriend and now he’s going to break up with me.
It’s 2:46pm and school ends in four minutes and I will be single in 10.
---
I see him before he sees me. That’s usually how it works. He’s standing by my car and I approach the inevitable.
“Hey, man. Can we go for a drive?” He won’t look at me. Why won’t he look at me?
I’m pissed and shaking. I bite my lip. “Why haven’t you talked to me all day?”
“Can we just go for a drive?”
I relent and drive. We ride around for five minutes without talking. I reach my threshold. “Oh my god,what the fuck is going on Lex?”
“I just- I just thought I could do it.” He’s crying.
“What?” I am beyond exasperated.
“I thought-” he regains his composure, “I thought I could be exclusive but I can’t. I was hanging out with someone last night, and obviously no one knows we’re dating, and they didn’t know that so they just tried move after move, and it’s just been so long since I’ve had sex and masturbating only does so much and I really wanted to tell them to leave I had so many opportunities to tell them to leave but I didn’t I just let them push more and more and then I caved and we had sex.” He breathes and looks at me. “Jon, I cheated on you.”
---
In my Health class Freshman year there was a section on homosexuality. It said “If you feel yourself attracted to the same sex, don’t worry, it’s completely natural. The attraction usually occurs during puberty and goes away eventually.”
God, I hope that’s true.
I can’t do this anymore.
Sam.
My dad.
Lex.
Don’t I get a happy ending?