To Defy Conformity

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic

Like every other teen, Jacob Walker begins to question if there even is such a thing as "normal." But he comes to learn that even if there is, he's not interested, and his choices become more and more based on happiness, but not always his own, as he learns what is neccessary to survive a dog-eat-dog world as a gay man with a few pesky mental disorders. Unfortunately, Jake's life is filled with traumatic events, and the overprotection of his mother stifles his growth while he tries to figure out who he is.

Chapter 1 (v.1) - To Defy Conformity

Submitted: March 18, 2010

Reads: 232

Comments: 2

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Submitted: March 18, 2010

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To Defy Conformity

By Edmund Philips



Chapter 1: Life's a Bitch

Again. Every morning it happened, and it didn't matter if he had gone to bed for eight hours or a pitiful half of one. He always woke up with the same dream, and waking up brought a torment that he simultaneously wanted nobody else to ever have to experience, while wishing in the dark crevice of his heart that they all would; so that he wouldn't feel so alone.

Every time he went to sleep he had the same dream. He dreamed of the boy; he was about the same age as he was, maybe a little older. The other boy loved him, or rather, was in love with him. And it was mutual. They shared everything from their secrets to their cans of Pepsi, to their beds. In fact, whenever he woke up, Jacob still felt the other boy's arms wrapped softly around his waist, his fingers lightly caressing Jacob's stomach muscles even in sleep, his grip protective; firm, yet gentle. He could still feel his lover's warm breath blowing through the short hairs on his neck like the last warm breeze of Summer might stir the leaves of an Autumn grove. But when he turned around to kiss his beautiful enchanter, he always discovered that he had slipped away from the comforting grasp of paradise and into the harsh reality of an empty bed, empty arms.

There was no other boy laying beside him to wake up with soft kisses to the forehead or eyelids. There was no other hand to gently squeeze with his own in a gesture of mutual compassion and unity. No strong jaw with a slight five o'clock shadow to gently caress with his fingertips. There were no gorgeous eyes to slowly open, and to peer into with the feeling of falling off the edge of the world. No eyes to peer back, or lips to curve into a reassuring smile. None of those comforts were there, merely a pillow which seemed to stare back, it's invisible expression unbearable.

Just as he did every morning, Jacob closed his eyes and tried to remember what the other precious half of his soul looked like. As usual, he failed in his earnest attempt. Giving his pillow one final caress and gentle kiss, praying that his dream-boy would somehow receive the message, Jacob slowly brought the covers up over his body and climbed out of bed. Looking down he realized that it was probably a good thing that there was nobody else in the room to see him. He had a few extra pounds around the waist, and while that wasn't a bad thing, it still wasn't what he wanted to look like. It put a few restrictions to what sort of clothes he would ever feel comfortable wearing. Not for the first time, he told himself that he was going to do a hundred crunches and fifty push-ups tonight and every night from now on until he was thin. More if he had to. But three years of saying that to his reflection in the mirror had not yet had the desired effect. So, he let it go, pulled on his black plush bathrobe to hide his nakedness, opened the door and headed towards his awaiting shower.

The water was cold this morning. Unusual, and it meant that he probably shouldn't take the full ten minutes he generally allotted to clean everything twice over. But he went the full time anyway, there really was no benefit to breaking the routine. After he was done showering he moved on to shave and take care of his now squeaky-clean hair, a task that took some untangling, and quite a bit of effort to keep it from curling due to its length. It was about shoulder level, and he wasn't sure if he was going to have it trimmed or let it grow a little longer. After toweling, putting on his deodorant, and plucking all stray facial hair out with tweezers he placed his robe back on his shoulders and went back to his room. Everybody else had more sense than he did, they were still asleep at this light-forsaken hour.

Closing the door to his room behind him, he hung his robe back up and began to put on the outfit that he had chosen the previous day and had carefully laid out on his desk, the wrinkles having been smoothed out. Today he had chosen simple dark jeans with black converse shoes, and a silky black long sleeve button-up that went over a rather cheer invoking yellow t-shirt. He had left the black shirt's top three buttons undone so that the sunny color had room to be seen. It was a cute outfit he thought, for not being designer brands.

When all was done, he sat down at his desk and woke up his laptop, the same beast that he often complained about for being so slow and glitch-prone, but that he also knew he'd be lost without unless a better machine made it's way into his penniless hands. When it had sufficiently finished it's virtual stretches and was ready to do some warm-ups, Jacob opened up the firefox browser and began his mission. It had become somewhat of a hobby to find cute gay pictures that showed love as opposed to lust. But most of those pictures were done by professional studios and required payment per picture. They didn't even have the feel of honesty about them. At least porn's honest, Jacob thought, they're not trying to pretend that they love each other. But on that rare occasion he came across a picture that was arousing, but emotionally rather than physically. These were the gems that he searched for nearly every day, occasionally becoming... distracted. When he managed to find one he knew it was going to be a great day. The picture showed an obviously High School gay couple kissing, fully clothed, and it didn't have a hint of lust. It was one of his best finds. He saved it into his secret folder reserved for this project. The folder was a small treasure trove of similar discoveries. He had hidden it so well he was sure he didn't have to worry about anybody ever stumbling across it if they went through his files without permission. As a precaution, he had developed a web of files full of all sorts of distraction data, and he was sure it would be just about impossible for anybody to find them unless they were specifically looking for them.

A moment later he heard his mom's alarm clock go off. He closed all of the browser tabs and his special file, and opened up his school's website, followed a link to his English class, and opened up a document about English grammar and vocabulary. True to practice, within seconds a light tapping came at his door, and he gave his mother permission to come into his room. Ms. Walker was not much of a morning person, and it showed. There were large drooping bags under her eyes, which were blood-shot, and she was slightly clumsier even than usual with her failed knee replacement.

“Okay. You are awake. Just wanted to make sure,” she said. “Make sure that you come downstairs in time to have something to eat. You've been going to school without anything in you. That's probably why you need those naps when you get home from school.”

“Okay mom, I will. I promise. I was actually thinking that I might come down there a little earlier than usual, put a couple English muffins in the toaster, poach a few eggs, fry some Canadian Bacon circles, and make us each a Benedict Arnold.” After puberty had thickened his vocal chords and caused him to sound butch, Jacob was glad that his voice was beginning to again inch higher in pitch to a more conversational level.

“Oh Jake, silly boy. You're doing what your grandfather does. You meant eggs benedict right?”

“Yeah mom, why? What did I say?” Jacob thought that maybe she might have been mistaken.

“You called them Benedict Arnolds. I don't feel like eating a British spy from the revolution. But if you meant that you'll make some eggs benedict with your hollandaise sauce, which I still can't quite keep from separating as well as you do, I could certainly go for that. But don't you think that's a lot of work for a Tuesday morning before school?”

“That's okay mom. It's what I want to eat, and I'll make one for Don too. His bus doesn't come for a while after mine. He can clean the dishes. He won't like it, but oh well. Sound good?” he knew he'd won her over, she loved his cooking too much. And he had a point, Don really didn't do much around the house unless he had to.

“Yeah, if that's what you want to do. But you might want to start thinking about doing it if you want to have time enough to brush your teeth after you're done eating. I know that you always do, but hollandaise sauce might ripen your breath worse than onions and garlic.” She was right of course, she always was with these things.

“Yes mom, you're probably right. I'll be down there to start in just a moment, I want to finish something real quick up here first,” he indicated the computer screen which was covered in grammar and vocabulary like independent clauses, allegory, iambic pentameter, apostrophe (no, not the punctuation), and the like. Not very fun, but at least it made sense. His lack of a love-life however made no sense whatsoever to the High School senior. In fact, even the calculus questions (a subject he had elected to avoid) that his friends showed him made more sense than his self-torment.

Ms. Walker nodded, turned around, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. It wasn't until Jake heard her steps descending the stairs that he got out of his swivel chair and laid down on his back, closing his eyes and hoping that his bed might transport him to that magical place where the boy of his dreams lay in wait. Though he failed in his earnest attempt, he was able to imagine a pair of strong arms wrapped around him and holding him tightly, but with a love that family would never know. He would gladly give up everything he had to know that feeling for real.



© Copyright 2020 Edmund Philips. All rights reserved.

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