What a great feeling. School’s out for the summer! This is the first morning I’ve been able to stay in bed late in weeks. However, the sun is coming through the window, and I just can’t go back to sleep. I should have taken my sister’s room when we moved in here six years ago. Her window is on the west side of the house. Mine is facing the east. I always get the morning sun.
I might as well get up anyway. No rest for the weary I guess. My mom is making me work this summer. Not a real job. I do yard work for my neighbors. They’ve been relying on me for about three years. I’ve been doing this since I was twelve. Now I’m fifteen and I’m still doing it. I don’t mind. It puts money in my pocket. My mother gives my sister and me an allowance, but it’s never enough.
Mom laughs and tells us to get used it. She told us that we’ll never have enough money for the rest of our lives. She says you work hard all your life and never have anything to show for it. She’s a good example. She’s a receptionist in a dentist’s office during the day. At night she waits on tables at a restaurant. It’s a pretty classy place, so she makes good money in tips.
She makes my sister and I work too. My sister, Amy, is thirteen and she babysits for our neighbors. Since most of them are working families, she’s usually at someone’s house. I get jealous because most weeks she makes more money than me. My work depends on the season. I mow yards in the summer, rake leaves in the fall and shovel snow in the winter. I hardly make any money in the winter because we haven't had much snow in the past few years.
I can’t wait until I turn sixteen next year so I can get a real job. Mom already said I could. I’ve managed to save a little money for a car. I’m having a hard time convincing her to let me get one, though. Every time I ask her about it, her usual response is, “We’ll see.” My experience tells me that usually means, ‘No.’
Two years ago Amy found out by accident that I am gay.
“Mark! Get out of bed,” my mother yelled from the kitchen. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep late if I wanted. I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Nature called.
“Mark! I have to go to work. Make you and Amy breakfast.” she yelled a little louder. I returned to my room and rushed over to my computer to close the site I had been looking at the night before. I got tired and went to bed to rest for a few minutes. Instead, I closed my eyes and didn't wake up until Mom called me.
It was an adult male site that featured naked men. Fortunately, my mother didn't block sites with Net Nanny like many of my friends' parents do. I wanted to get a good look at a younger guy they had featured. I was leaning forward enjoying him when my sister came barging into the room before I could reduce the screen.
“I’m going to tell Mom!” she screamed and headed out the bedroom door. Thankfully, my mother had already left. After closing the site, I went to her bedroom door and knocked. I needed to talk to her.
“Go away, fag!” she shouted.
“I need to talk to you. Please?” I shouted back, still pounding on her door.
After another minute, the door slowly opened. She walked back to her bed and sat down. I sat beside her. What do you say to your sister when she just discovered you are gay? I was her big brother, and she had always looked up to me.
“Amy, listen,” I begged.
“You’re a queer,” she spat out angrily. I could see the hatred in her eyes. “Kids at school don’t like queers.” What did she know? She was twelve then. All she’d ever heard was what other kids said about gay people.
“I’m your brother. Do you hate me?” She looked at me and studied me for a minute. Then I saw her eyes soften.
“No, Mark. I could never hate you."
“Good. Cause you’re my sis. I wouldn’t want you to hate me.” I was glad she was beginning to accept me. It could have made my life difficult if she didn’t.
"You ever done stuff before with a boy?"
“No, Amy. I haven’t done anything with anyone. What you saw me doing is all
I‘ve ever done,” I bashfully admitted to her. “And the next time you come in my room, knock first,” I said harshly.
“Next time, lock your door,” she retaliated with a laugh.
We talked for the next half hour. She asked me a lot of stupid questions. Most of them I couldn’t answer because I’d never been with a guy. I had read a few stories on the internet, but that was all.
I also discovered that I have a very evil sister that day. She blackmailed me! She threatened to tell my mother that I was gay unless I gave her $5 a week. So for the past two years, I’ve been paying her to stay quiet.
I left the bathroom and went back into my bedroom to dress. I posed in front of my full-sized mirror. In it I saw a gangly kid, quickly changing from boyhood to manhood. I took off my underwear and looked at myself naked. I looked over to make sure that my door was locked. I didn't want Amy barging in on me again.
I’m not much to look at. I know I’m not one of the good-looking guys that all the girls giggle at when they went walking by. No one will ever get lost in my gray eyes or swoon because of my sexy voice. I’ve gone through puberty, so I don’t have to worry about my voice cracking when I speak any more.
I am ordinary. What do you call the male version of a Plain Jane? Plain John? That would be me. I am 5’8” tall and weigh about 135. I’m not graced with a tight six pack stomach. I have a little fat, but nothing noticeable. My hair is slightly curly and a mousy brown color. I wish I were one of those blonde surfer boys all the girls follow around.
I looked in the mirror and wondered if I were another guy would I be interested in me. Probably not. In high school looks is everything. Most kids usually don’t even know I’m around. Even teachers have trouble remembering my name. I’m not the smart kid that all teachers are glad to have in class. At the same time, I’m not the troublemaker they dread.
I fall into that middle group- the forgotten group. I’ve seen teachers that I had a few years ago, and they can’t even remember my name. You’d think after I sat in their class for a year, they’d remember who I was.
So I’m just your average fifteen-year-old boy. You know the kind- the ones you pass by and don’t even notice when you walk through the mall on Saturday afternoon. Girls don’t smile when they see me. Guys don’t give me a second glance; most of the time they don’t give me a first glance.
I’m not complaining. I’m just stating a fact. I’m happy being myself. I learned a long time ago that I won’t fit into the ‘in’ crowd. It doesn’t bother me. Sometimes I watch the drama that the ‘beautiful’ people go through day after day, and I’m glad I was born an average person. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not some ugly Quasimodo. I learned about him in my literature class last year. I’m not a hunchback who sickens people with my hideous looks.
“Mark. Breakfast is ready.” I heard my mother shout down the hallway, causing me to jump. I took one last look at myself before I put on my clothes- bikini underwear, shorts, and a tee shirt. After putting on my shoes and socks, I ruffled my hair into place. No use spending hours looking good when no one will notice anyway.
On the way out of my room I ran into my sister. “Watch out, fag,” she muttered as she pushed me against the wall.
"Slut,” I replied. I can’t wait until we grow up so we can quit playing these childish games. Maybe then she’ll call me by my name.
“Good morning, Honey,” my mother sang cheerfully as she tried to kiss me on my cheek. I moved away just in time. I’m fifteen years old. I don’t need my mother kissing me like I’m a child.
“Did you remember you have to clean out Mr. Olsteen’s garage this morning?” she asked me as she put a plate of eggs, sausage and toast in front of me.
“No, Mom. I didn’t forget. I’m not a moron. Give me some credit.” I replied angrily. She treats me like a child sometimes. I’m fifteen. I’ll be sixteen in a few months. She acts like I’m six.
“Yeah. You better get out and make some money.” My sister threw me a knowing look. “You owe someone.” I looked over at her and then at my mother.
“Who, Mark?” she asked.
“No one. Amy’s just messing with me. Right Amy?” I looked over at my sister with pleading eyes. She held up ten fingers. She wanted $10 this week. I looked at my mother and back at Amy. I nodded my head. She gave me a snide smile. I couldn’t wait to get even with her. Once I get proof that she is doing something wrong, she is going to pay dearly.
“Are you babysitting the Donovon’s child today?” she asked Amy.
“Yes, Mom. I have to be there in fifteen minutes. Can you drop me off on your way to work?” My sister can be so gross sometimes. She was intentionally eating with her mouth full and showing me its contents. I pushed food out of my mouth and acted like I was going to spit it at her.
“Mom! Mark’s being nasty!” she shouted.
“Stop it Mark!” my mother hollered. She always takes my sister’s side. It wouldn’t do any good to say anything. She wouldn’t believe me anyway. Amy looked over at me and grinned. I stuck out my tongue and crossed my eyes. She started giggling.
“Grow up, Mark,” my mother admonished me after noticing the face I made at Amy. I just sighed. Sometimes I wish I were an only child. My life would be so much simpler.
“I heard his nephew is staying with him and Emily this summer. Have you met him yet?” she asked. This was news to me. Mr. Olsteen didn’t mention it the last time I mowed his yard. If he had his nephew to help him, then why did he need me?
“No, Mom. I guess I’ll meet him this morning."
“Maybe he’ll let you do something with him,” my sister whispered in my ear. I swear to God I’m going to kill her before she reaches eighteen.
“Shut up, Amy,” I whispered back. She gave me a nasty smirk.
“You’d better be careful or I’m going to want five more dollars,” she warned me.
“Someday I’m going to tell Mom myself. That way I won’t have to give you any more money,” I told her.
“You don’t have the nerve,” she smiled back.
“Watch me,” I warned her.
“Mom, Mark has something he wants to tell you.” She looked over at me and smiled. I started choking on my milk.
“What is it, Honey?” she asked.
“Nothing, Mom,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “Amy’s being a jerk again.” My face was beginning to turn red.
“I told you. You don’t have the nerve.” She’d won this battle. She knew I couldn’t come out to my mother and was enjoying watching me squirm at the table.
“I gotta go.” I grabbed my ball cap and headed out the door. “See you around noon.”
“Have fun,” my sister sang out. I gave her the finger and walked out of the kitchen.
Mr. Olsteen’s home was on the next block. Most are three-bedroom brick homes. The yards aren't very large, so it doesn't take me long to mow them. Some have carports, but most have a one car garage. Mr. Olsteen had bought a new car and wanted to clean out his garage so he could park it there.
The garage door was open when I walked up the driveway. I entered and looked around. At first I didn’t see anyone, and then I noticed a pair of tanned legs standing on a ladder in the corner. The person was looking into an attic area above the garage.
I stood and looked at the image before me. I thought this must be Mr. Olsteen’s nephew. From the back he looked like he was about my age. He was tall and muscular. He was wearing a pair of shorts that showed off his strong legs. He looked like he might be a runner. He had on a white wife beater and his long blonde hair flowed down to cover his neck. He was standing tip-toed on the ladder trying to reach something.
“Uncle Roger. Can you help me?” He sounded sexy. I loved the sound of his voice.
“He’s not here. I’ll help,” I said as I approached the ladder. Without looking, he reached into the attic, pulled out a small box, and handed it to me. He then came down off the ladder and faced me.
“Thanks. I’m Scott.” He extended his hand for me to shake. I stood before him staring into his deep brown eyes. He was Cute, with a capital C. He broke my stare when he waved his hand at me. I took it and shook it. His grip was firm. I gripped his tightly so he wouldn’t think I was some kind of wimp. “And you are?” he asked with a grin.
“Um, I’m, um, Mark.” I couldn’t even remember my own name. This boy had completely taken my breath away. I had never acted this way around anyone before. He probably thought I was some kind of idiot. With his looks, though, I’m sure he is used to girls reacting to him like I was. I’m not so sure he had experienced it from another guy, though.
“Good. I see you’ve met my nephew, Scott,” Mr. Olsteen said as he appeared from the kitchen door leading to the garage. “He’s spending the summer here.”
“Yeah. I’ve met Um Mark.” He smiled at me and started laughing. I began to blush. Mr. Olsteen saved me from further embarrassment when he walked over and picked up a box.
“One of you boys climb that ladder and jump into the attic. The other stand on it and hand boxes up to the other as I bring them over. It shouldn’t take us long to get this place cleaned out,” he said.
Scott climbed the ladder as I stood beneath watching him. I could see up his tight shorts. He was wearing white briefs. I was trying to get a better look when Scott looked down and saw me. A wide grin appeared on his face.
We worked for the next hour cleaning out the garage. Anything worth saving was handed up to Scott to store away in the attic. Trash was put alongside the garage. Mr. Olsteen was going to call and have someone haul it away. When we were done, there was enough room for him to park his new car. He stood back and beamed at the clean garage.
“I think this deserves some ice cream. Go wash up boys and I’ll take you to Ben and Jerry’s for a treat.” I followed Scott into the house and down the hallway to the bathroom. Once there, I stopped outside the door.
“You go ahead. I’ll wait until you’re through,” I told him.
“That’s all right. We can both wash up together. I go to school at an all-boys academy. I’m used to it.” He pushed me gently into the small bathroom. I felt uncomfortable being in such a tight space with someone as cute as Scott. He’d appeared to have been flirting with me all morning. I didn’t know how I would react if he tried something. My heart was pounding out of my chest, and I was having trouble catching my breath.
“You okay?” He could see how nervous I was.
“Yeah. I’m okay." Just then he walked over to the toilet and pulled down his shorts. I watched and couldn’t remove my eyes. I’d seen a lot of guys on the internet, but this was the first one I’d seen up close. He looked over at me and smiled.
“Like what you see?” he asked as I stood staring at him. I was too stunned to say anything.
“Well do you?” he asked a little more forcefully.
“Yes.” I nodded my head.
"Do you want it?"
"Yes," I replied nervously.
“Just what I thought! You’re a fag!” he spat as he pulled his shorts up. He gave me a scornful look and walked out of the bathroom.