I know this sounds a little cliche on my part, but here it goes. I’ve known I was gay for a long time, probably back before I even knew what it meant. I guess I just never got a rise out of women like I did with men, or maybe it was because of the lack of a father figure in my life, but that’s another story to be told at a different time. I only just recently decided to come out to a couple of my most trusted and understanding friends. See, where I grew up, people in my community aren’t very accepting of homosexuals. It’s not like they’re religious or anything like that, I guess most of them just think it’s weird. It’s kind of a hick town where I live; guys with overgrown beards going on about their muddin’ and loggin’ adventures. My story is one where my darkest fantasies come true.

I guess I should talk about myself some, huh? I like to think of myself as a good looking guy, you know, not too muscular, but definitely not fragile or anything. I guess you could think of me as having a type of swimmer’s physique despite that even though I live on a lake, I still don’t swim much. (My mother said I take the lake front property for granted.) I’m short for my age, standing at about five-foot two, with not quite shoulder length blond hair and hazel eyes that like to change color with my surroundings, mostly weather or mood. I guess that’s why people who knew me could read my emotions like I was writing it all down for them and shoving it in their faces.

So, there’s this guy, (you know how it is…) who I’ve known for pretty much known for my entire life, who’s pretty much the most well known kid in my school of about fifteen-hundred students. Everyone knows him, and (I think) everyone likes him. Although he may not like it, he’s in the spotlight pretty much the entire time. I see the way other people act around him, trying to be all cool and want to be seen near him at all times. But over the past couple months of spending almost four and a half hours with him in class every other day, he’s getting kind of sick of it, shrugging off the mobs of people that come into our classroom daily just to be around him. I can tell he just wants to be left alone.

Did I mention he has a girl’s name? It’s Mackenzie, or just Mack for short. I can tell you one thing: he definitely doesn’t like being called Mackenzie. Well, anyway, like I said, I’ve known him for quite a while; he’s sweet, kind hearted, slightly dumb (hey, it’s cute.) and he always seems to know how to make me laugh, even in the worst of times. He’s not too bad looking himself if I do say so myself; with a mix of reddish brown hair, a clean shaven face, a great smile, and oh my god, those eyes!