By the end of the seventh grade, Ashley and Pete had split up. I heard it through the grape vine. Neither of them seemed to want to talk about it, not that I asked Ashley. I came up behind Pete one day about a week before the end of school. He had his hands above his locker and his head inside like he was looking for a book or something.

"Hey Pete." He didn't respond to me, so I thought he hadn't heard me. I stepped closer and repeated my call. He half turned his head and then turned back, wiping his arm across his eyes. He turned around and gave me a half-hearted grin and said "Hey." I saw tears welling up in his eyes. He looked like he had been crying for a while by the look of his swollen eyes and the stains on his shirtsleeve.

Immediately, all I felt for him before his girlfriend returned to me. I was worried. I had never seen him cry before, except when he broke his collarbone in the sixth grade playing tackle football in the vacant lot.

"What's wrong man?" He sniffed loudly and wiped his eyes again. He definitely was unhappy. He is usually cheerful, almost to the point of being painful to be around. There was no sign of that person in Pete at this moment.

"Nothing, I'm OK." The tears in his eyes and the quiver in his bottom lip said differently, though. I looked at him with real concern on my face, and took a step closer.

"You sure? You want to talk?" He nodded his head with a resigned expression on his face.

"After school, OK?" That was more than two hours from now. I shook my head, indicating I wanted to talk to m now. "We'll be late for class," he said as he wiped his eyes again. This was killing me. I hated seeing him in pain.

"Hey Jameson, why are you crying? You miss your mommy?" Great just what he needed. Brent Smith was the resident tough guy and was usually in the company of a pack of wannabes. We were lucky this time; he was alone.

"Fuck off, Brent." He looked at me as he walked toward me. He raised his hand and casually shoved me into the lockers. He was twice my weight and about a foot taller than I was, so it didn't take much effort for him to move me.

"What did you say? I don't think I heard you correctly." His eyes were full of menace and his fist had a real good grip on my shirt. I just gave him a blank stare, the kind I give my parents when they say something that makes me so angry I want to scream, but don't because anger was never allowed in our house. "I thought so. If you ever say anything like that to me again," he said, punctuating every word by slamming me against the locker, " I will take you apart and smear you across the parking lot." With one last shove I hit the lockers. He had picked me up by my shirt and literally threw me against them, causing a combination dial to hit me in the back making me wince. I was going to have a few bruises.

Pete spoke up. "Leave him alone. And fuck off, Brent." Brent just looked at him and sneered. Pete wasn't afraid of Brent and Brent knew it.

"Crybaby." With that Brent walked away, calling to his pack down the hall. Pete gathered some books from his locker and shut the door.

Pete and I followed a few seconds behind Brent down the hall toward the science wing. As we passed the pack, the snickered as they watched us pass. Pete glared at them as we turned the corner. "Lets skip. I don't think I am going to be able to make it through class." I could once more see tears in his eyes and a depressed look on his face. I didn't hesitate. He was in trouble and needed a friend to talk to. I nodded my head and we walked out of the building toward the high school football field.

As we walked further, I took advantage of our privacy. "Dude, you OK? What's wrong?" He just shook his head. Tears were running down his face now, and he was snuffling more. I thought I saw him shake with a sob. This was more serious than I thought.

We walked in silence other than his snuffling until we got the bleacher seats, but instead of going up and sitting on them, he went behind them. He looked around and saw nobody else there. He walked up to the brick wall behind the bleachers and leaned against it, resting his forehead on his arm. He started shaking and I could hear him crying softly.

I walked up to him and put my hand on his shoulder. I could feel him shaking like a leaf. He turned toward me, putting his back to the wall. He slid down to the ground. He rested his arms on his knees and buried his head. His crying was louder now, I could hear him clearly. I knelt beside him.

"What's wrong Pete? Talk to me." I put a hand on his knee. He jumped as if shocked. I took my hand away. His shoulders were still shaking with uncontrolled spasms. I turned around and sat next to him, determined to wait him out and get to the bottom of this.

He cried like that for another five minutes or so, gradually relaxing his shoulders as the shaking stopped. As he wiped his face with his arm he spoke in a voice so soft that I had to strain to hear him.

"I know you hate me, so there's no reason."

"I don't hate you!" I interrupted, "Why do you think I hate you?"

"Because you have been ignoring me!" The ferocity of his reply surprised me. "Every time I see you in the hall or in the lunchroom or on the playground you turn away! You changed seats in class to be as far away from me as you could! You don't call me anymore! What the fuck am I supposed to think?"

I was stunned. Everything he said was true. I did do that to him. It shouldn't have mattered that he had a girlfriend, he still needed his friend. He needed me and I abandoned him. I could feel the beginning of tears in my own eyes and my throat was tight. Great. Another example of how worthless I am as a friend.

"I didn't mean to do that. I was jealous of Ashley. I thought you didn't want me as a friend anymore." Tears were rolling down my cheeks and I pawed at them feebly. "Oh, God I'm sorry Pete! Please forgive me! I need your friendship too!" I was rapidly going down hill. Any moment and I 'd be bawling outright too. How odd that I could cry in front of him, but not my parents. "Please don't hate me Pete," I pleaded with him. I looked into his eyes, his liquid blue eyes and saw my reflection in them, and buried my head in my arms. I despised what I saw.

I saw a person who was worried about no one but himself. I saw someone that was so self absorbed, he would inflict pain on those he loved the most. But with those same eyes, Pete saw someone completely different.

"How could I hate you? I love you." My head jerked up. I looked at him incredulously. Did I hear what I thought I heard?

"What did you just say?" Hope burned in my heart. He smiled a weak smile. God he was beautiful, swollen eyes, tear stained cheeks and all.

A heavy sigh followed as that smile disappeared. "That is what I came out to tell you. Are you sure you don't hate me? Positive?" I nodded both times, not trusting my voice at the moment.

"I hope that what I need to tell you doesn't change that." Again he sighed heavily, and I could see tears again in his eyes. He spoke without any hint of that, though.

"Bri, I had a long talk with my mom last night. We talked about Ashley mostly, then me. Ashley was fun for a while, but after a while she wanted to do things. Like we used to talk about, remember?" I nodded. "I thought I wanted to do those things too," he continued softly. "I went over to her house last weekend. Her parents were away. I think they went to Walnut Creek or something. Anyway, we had the house to ourselves and she started to make all the moves. She rubbed me and. all sorts of stuff." He paused to wipe his eyes and looked at me. He saw I was waiting for him to go on and sighed again.

"I didn't get excited, Bri! Nothing! I mean, she even took off her clothes and everything! I got embarrassed and left. I walked home." That was quite a haul, I knew. At least five miles. "When I got home Mom asked me what happened, why her mom didn't bring me home." Tears started streaming again, but he ignored them. "I couldn't lie to her, so I told her what happened. At first she was mad and then she looked scared. I told her I didn't want to be gay and she ran out of the room crying! Bri, I don't want to be gay!" He leaned into me and started crying again. All I could do was put my arms around him and hold him tight. My best friend was gay. He liked boys, not girls. That meant I was gay to.

That was the first time I ever put a label on myself and it scared me. Badly. I heard all the talk and saw the attitudes. Now they took on a horrible new significance. I started crying because of the fear. He put his arms around me and we sat there crying together, comforting each other, just being there. Pete stopped sobbing a few minutes later and, letting me go, gave me that crooked grin.

"What are you crying about?" I looked at him for a second and then looked away, wiping my eyes.

"Pete, you said you loved me. How do you love me? Like a friend or like a, um, like more than a friend."

He looked me in my eyes, piercing my soul. His gaze never wavered as he said "Bri, I love you. I wanted you to be more than a friend. I have for a long time. But then I realized what that meant. That was one reason I went out with Ashley. I didn't want to be gay." He broke eye contact, looking at his shoes. Another big sigh and a sniffle. "But I am gay and I can't change that. I know that you may hate me and never want to be around me again, but I have to tell you or I won't be able to live with myself. I want you to be my boyfriend. I want you to be with me." He kicked at the gravel we were sitting in, making rocks fly.

I couldn't believe my ears. He loved me. He loved ME! I never will understand why he chose me. As I sat there in silence, I studied his form. His hair was wild right now from his crying, and his eyes were puffy. His beautiful face, flushed and tear streaked, was lined with worry. I stared at him for what seemed to be a long time. He started to shift uncomfortably under my gaze. I thought he was going to get up and go, but I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He looked up at me, fear of rejection in his eyes.

"Pete, I don't want to be gay either." Several emotions passed his face at once. Fear, disbelief, relief, joy, love, all within milliseconds of one another. I turned toward him and leaned in closer. "I have loved you since I met you, but I was too stupid to know it. And if I have to be gay to be with you," I said with conviction, "so be it." I moved closer to him and put my lips on his. His initial reaction was to back away, but when he realized what was actually happening, He leaned into me and we kissed for the first time. It was a gentle kiss, full of love and confirming what we both felt for each other. It lasted for eternity and ended all to soon.

We backed off far enough that we could look each other in the eyes. I reached for his hands and took them, planning on never letting them go. We looked into the depths of each others soul, communicating our love directly, not through mere words. Neither of us said anything. We just looked at each other, trying to imprint each others face into our mind. I don't think he had ever looked more beautiful than he did on that day. We stayed there until we heard the bell signaling the end of the school.

He broke the silence that followed, "I have to catch the bus. Dad's birthday is tonight, and I can't miss it." He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. I reached out and gathered him to me, pulling his body against mine. I felt his tongue gently brush my lips, like a feather against my skin. And then he jumped up and ran away.

"I'll call you!" He looked back over his shoulder and grinned, waving his hand. "Damn he's hot," I thought as I watched his perfect ass run away.


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