Thought Bubbles Ill

My life story is a sad one. So sad, it might as well not have existed in the first place. My mother ignores me completely. Well, calling her mother is giving her bit too much credit. No, her title should be 'woman who stood idly by while her baby boy morphed into a teen and became able to take care of himself'. Anyway, I was born from a hell hole, her hell hole to be exact; and though I'm no demon, she seems to find the need to constantly avoid me. Am I so pale and unsightly that I've become a ghost to her? No, I don't believe my looks have anything to do with it. I mean, considering the fact that she has ignored me pretty much ever since that fateful prom night in '87 on which I was conceived. Or maybe she started it the several weeks after prom while squatting over some germ-infested toilet bowl in a gas station, staring blankly at a used pregnancy test. I guess the knowledge that a tiny life form was now growing inside of her wasn't enough to faze her habits. She seemed to want to tempt fate even more. She smoke and drank, did everything in her power to make certain I didn't arrive into this world. She even (this is the part that cracks me up) went so far as to throw herself down several flights of stairs in hope that she would lose me! Ha! She tried so hard to get rid of me that I actually came out more fucked up than ever. How do I know all of this? She told me this on one of her drunken rages, then ordering me to hold her hair while she puked up the contents of her stomach.

I'm nineteen years young and I look like an eleven year old. I'm skinny and unsightly pale. I stand just a quarter of an inch under 5 foot 3, and I have dull black eyes and a mop of disheveled muddy red hair. Yep! The girls are just rushing at me for sex! And you know what? I blame her for my disturbing appearance. And though I don't know who or where my father is, I blame him too. He's probably some short, pudgy Leprechaun named Blarney with my luck.

So, anyway, sit back and enjoy my oh-so-interesting life as I take you on the most boring, pathetic journey ever. Enjoy...

_________

I woke up to the smell of stale underwear and corn chips. I open my eyes to the blinding rays of the sun as they pierced the blinds of my window. I sigh as another boring day in this boring town begins yet again. I roll out of the bed and shuffle into the bathroom. I yawn, stretch and scratch at my balls before entering the shower to wash off last night's stink. I groan mentally when the bathroom swings open wildly and in walks 'woman who stood idly by while her baby boy morphed into a teen and became able to take care of himself', casually strolling over to sit on the toilet. Now, mind you, I have no problem sharing a bathroom with her, it's just I like my privacy and right now she is invading deeply.

"Do you think maybe you could wait until I finish?" I say in a low, calm voice. It's the only way I can talk to her nowadays.

**Silence**

I simply sigh and continue with my shower, while trying my damnedest to block out the sound of her peeing. I wish the earth would just swallow me up right now. I hate this place, my life, and everyone else's. So utterly oblivious to anyone but themselves, ugh!

On my way out the door, I grabbed a cereal bar and a cup of orange juice. I walked down the hallway of the apartment complex and knocked on Dave's door. Dave and I have been friends since the first grade. Everyone seemed to have had friends to play with on the playground at recess, so I normally sat on the swing set by myself. One day, some third grade kids started picking on me and Dave came to my rescue. He and I are the same age, but he had always been bigger and taller than most kids our age (most likely a gift from his German ancestors) so he beat the kids up and dared anyone else to make fun of me again. We've been friends ever since, though I often refer to Dave as my personal protector. If you were to see us, you would find it hard to believe that he and I are friends at all. You see, Dave is your typical high school jock while I, on the other hand, am the typical high school skater geek. In other words, Dave's popular and I'm not. But for some reason I've never been able to discern, he's always stuck by my side.

I knock on his door and receive a incoherent, muffled yell in return. That's Dave speak for come on in. Dave lives with his dad. His mother died when he was born, so it's always just been him and his dad. His dad works as a nurse at the local hospital, so he's never home much. Dave basically lives on his own. I found him, wearing only his boxers, sitting on his bedroom floor among a pile of clothes. His light brown hair was tangled in an angry mass atop his head. I took in the scene for a moment before throwing my head back in laughter. His face became scrunched up in a pouting expression, then he narrowed his eyes at me. The entire display only made me laugh harder. "Dude, shut up! I couldn't find anything to wear that's actually clean," he whined. I guffawed for a couple of more minutes before going in to help him.

"Do you ever wash your clothes?"

"Occasionally," he stated matter-of-factly.

I let out a sigh, "Okay, you big baby, let's see what you've got in here." I leaned into his closet and gazed upon the masses of polo shirt, faded jeans, lettermen jackets, football jerseys, and sparkling clean sneakers. I shuddered and groaned inwardly. This was my preppy nightmare. Don't get me wrong, Dave's a great friend. It's his fashion style with which I disagree. He must be able to see the pain on my face because he laughs and nudges my shoulder.

"One of these days, I'm gonna make you wear one those," he said, pointing to one of the many polo shirts he owned. I'm the one who laughed then.

"Yeah, right." I said sarcastically as I came to sit at the foot of his bed.

"I'm serious." And right then he gave this very creepy look. It was so unnatural. It was like he was trying to look into my soul. I squirmed under that steady green gaze that felt like a heat-ray.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" I asked, my voice giving away my discomfort. At that moment, I received the shock of my lifetime. There I sat at the foot of his bed as he sat at his computer chair, which was pulled up close to me, staring at me with those light green eyes. He moved closer to the edge of the bed, rolling his chair forward so that both my legs were in between his. I couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. When his knees had bumped the edge of the bed, he continued moving forward with his face. By that point in time, I'm pretty sure I possessed the expression of a deer caught in headlights. His eyes shifted down to my lips. He moved closer. Closer. Suddenly, I could feel his breath on my face. And then his lips touched mine.

I couldn't breathe, dizziness was taking over. I fell forward and he caught me in his arms. The kiss never died as his tongue coaxed my lips apart. There was an instant swelling in my pants. What is he doing? Why am I reacting this way? I'm straight! So many thoughts were flooding my mind. When he pulled away, he kept his arms around me. I sat there gasping for air, completely mortified. When I looked back at Dave, he seemed to be cool, calm, and collected. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" I almost yelled as I attempted to pull away from him.

Dave smiled that bashful smile of his and scratched the back of his neck (which unexpectedly caused a stirring in my chest) before pulling me back into his arms. "I don't know it's just...I've been waiting to do that for a long time...and that seemed like a perfect moment..." My face felt like a furnace and was probably as red as my hair. I took a couple of deep breaths and looked back up at him. He had this confident smirk on his face and was staring down at me with those piercing green eyes. "But you're... not gay!" I stammered out. His smirk grew.

"No, I'm not but I've been bisexual for some time," He couldn't help but laugh. I'm pretty sure my eyes looked ready to pop out of my head.

"I-I..."

"It's okay. If you didn't like it, we can forget this ever happened." There was my chance to walk away from this situation and go back to my normal, boring life. But I didn't. Something had possessed me to stay sitting on that bed with my best friend's face two inches from my own after we had just shared a totally breath-taking kiss. I let out the breath I had been holding for God only knows how long and did something that shocked both of us. I leaned into his embrace and snuggled into his naked chest. He tightened his arms around me and pulled me over into his lap, where I could feel his excitement as well. His hand went to unzip my already low-slung jeans and that's when I started to panic, self-conscious about my less than average endowment. "Shh. It's okay. I promise not to hurt you," he whispered in my ear before nibbling on my earlobe. My insides turned to jelly when he did that and I made some kind of 'nnhhh' sound that was totally embarrassing. I felt humiliated, confused, and vulnerable. I also felt extremely aroused and wanton.

His shoved his hand into my boxers and cupped my throbbing dick. I let out a loud groan and bit my bottom lip at the undying pleasure as he stroked me. I let my head fall to his shoulder as I shuddered through my release, gasping and moaning softly. His hand and belly were a mess. I whimpered in embarrassment. "Sorry," I said barely above a whisper. He chuckled and held me tightly against his body. I could feel his need pressing my stomach as I rested my head on his chest. I didn't the energy to move much less return the favor. I can't believe my best friend just kissed me and gave me my first hand job, I thought to myself. Then suddenly I became a head case, so many emotions whirling inside me. "What the fuck?" I said, pulling away from him, "I'm not gay, Dave!" I'm not gay, I'm not gay, I'm not gay, I chanted in my mind. I looked at Dave while jerking off his lap and away from him. There was certain amount of sadness in his eyes that made me want to move back to him but I couldn't. I ran from his room and out the front door. I'm not gay, I'm not gay....