I remember that summer day vividly. I was in the park, which is in the center of the small town that I had called home for as long as I can remember. It was a large, open space, with green hills gently rising and falling. At the center of the park, there was a large fountain, up higher than anything else. I was sitting there, looking at my reflection. a light breeze blew, making my light blonde hair tickle the tip of my nose. I have always been ticklish, and it had always annoyed me. I was staring into my own eyes, which were a bright purple today. They tended to change every couple of days, from purple to blue to green. I was staring into my own eyes for a reason though (and yes, I know that can be wierd sometimes). I was in a heated debate with myself (also sometimes wierd). The subject of debate was one that I never thought that I would be seriously thinking about. It had come up several times in the fourteen years of living, but that's just part of growing. Now my body had started undergoing changes, and so does the mind in this period. I looked away from the pond and up at the horizon.
Dark clouds were appraoching, so I decide to start the long walk back home. I knew that it would be another speechless night. I liked to think that I lived alone, and for most of the year, I did. My dad had left my momshortly afterI was born, and my mom was a diplomat, spending most of her time traveling Europe. It has been tough for me, starting puberty, without anyone to talk about it to. I wasn't close enough to any adult to talk to anyone about it. Because of this, thing were racing through my mind and I didn't know what to think about those thoughts. I finally got home. Before I went inside I stared at the house (I sometimes have a problem with staring). It was a small, two bedroom, two bath, that was just big enough for me and my mom. I went in, tired from a long day and really wanting a shower. I went straight to my bathroom and quickly started up the shower. While the water was heating up (it takes a while), I stared at myself in the mirror (again, I'm staring). I was pale, with freckles all over my body. I was a bit chubby, but was well muscled. The shower was finally warm enough, so I stepped in. After a half an hour I got out, put a towel around my waiste and walked into the kitchen, something I wouln't normally do, even if I had the house to myself. Was digging around in the fridge when the phone rang. The caller i.d. said it was my mom so I quickly picked up.
"Hey Mom," I said, trying to stay calm. She normally didn't call (because of the cost) unless it was really important.
"Hey sweety," she said with her incredibly smooth voice. "I've tried calling several, but this is the first time my cell has had service."
"So how's my son?" she asked.
"Fine, as usual," I said. She asked the same thing every time she called, and I respond with the same thing.
"That's good," she said. I could hear the anticipation in her voice, which was strange for her. Even though in her late thirties, she was the tipe of mom that was incredibly cool, and went with anything. She always was calm, no matter what the situation. So if she was stressed out, it had to be something major.
"What is it, mom," I asked, getting worried.
"Like I said, this is the first time I have had cell coverage in a while," she started. "I would have like to have told you sooner. First, what's the time there?"
I looked at the clock. "About ten until six." I then realized it was the middle of the night in Europe, which was even wierder for her.
"Thanks. Like I said earlier, I would have like to have told you this sooner. I must start with a short explination first. I have been recently been working with another diplomat here in England. Really nice guy, but, like me, misses home. But neither of us can come back to the states for another two or three months, depending on how well we do our job. There is no changing that. But recently, he recieved distressing news. His wife has recently died, in a fire that burnt their home."
"Plaese tell him I am sorry for his loss," I said (corny, I know) before she could go on.
"I will," she said, sounding sad. "He happens to havea son, about your age, who survived."
I could only imagine what he felt like, to lose a parent and his home. "What's this got to do with me, though?" I asked.
"They lived right across town," she said with no emotion. "You asked what this has to do with you, so I will tell you. Their son has nowhere to stay, with his house in ashes. In about ten minutes, he will be knocking on the door. You have a roomate."
I didn't say anything, stunned.
"From what I've heard," my mom continued, "he's a nice kid. But remember, do not let him in my room!"
That was her only rule she had given me before she left. Nobody, including me, was to go into her room. I don't know why and didn't really care.
The only thing I could say was: "You mean I'm going to have to share my room?" That would be a problem I had a queen crammed into my small room, and we didn't have any couches or anythimg else someone could sleep.
"Great," I muttered, "I'm going to have to sleep with another guy."
"It's only for a couple of days, so deal with it," Mom responded. "I have to go, love you."
"Love you to."
I hung up the phone, pushing my hair out of my eyes. I jumped when the doorbell rang. I went and opened the door to a young man my age. He had the some build as I did, but had light brown hair with green eyes. I thought that he was really cute. Once I thought that my feelings were comfirmed. I, Bryan Err, was gay.
© Copyright 2016 Zanzabaar . All rights reserved.
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