Please note they're 13 in this chapter, 17 in the rest
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"AGGHH!" I yelled as I was gunned down in the game once again.

"Goddamnit Stan can't I win just once?"

I grumbled getting increasingly frustrated as the game restarted and progressed until I lost once again. I threw down the controller on the bed and it bounced up once before getting halfway lost in the messy blankets.

"No way dude it's not my fault you just suck at this game," he replied casually.

He looked over and when he laughed softly, that's when I knew it was true. I felt such a sense of happiness as he looked at me and when I caught his eye my breath hitched in my throat. In that split second I felt light as air before the bitterness followed. Such a cold, sinking feeling almost like a rock hardened in my stomach as I looked back. Why did I feel like this?

"Why are you so worked up over this? You've always lost to me," I sighed.

I suppose I was being slightly unreasonable over a game but did he really have to beat me every time we played?

"Yeah, yeah I guess. Sorry. I've just been a little more stressed about school that's all."

I explained as quickly as I could before adding,

"Let's just keep playing."

I reached for the controller before Stan could say anything more and sat with my legs crossed once again. I hunched over when I pressed play.

Truthfully, the reason I kept losing and was being snappy was I had come to a terrible realization just a few days prior. I was 13 and was just starting to have the parents question about girls at school, whether I had a crush, all that nonsense. I asked my mom how you knew if you had a crush to which she replied,

"Oh bubi. That's a hard thing to explain but I suppose it could be described as feeling different when she looks at you and wanting to see them happy, no matter what. Some people say there's no way to tell somebody since it's different for each person."

She glanced at me from overtop the book she was reading and flashed a white smile.

"A unique thing indeed,"

The following day, with that conversation in mind I paid attention to what I felt throughout the day.

I didn't really think I liked anybody at that time but eh why not start paying attention.

It wasn't until the end of our basketball practice that night when it hit, powerful as a punch when Stan walked up to me and asked,

"Hey man, wanna hang out later this week?"

Such a simple question but the way he looked as he shut his locker, cheeks flushed from running, sweat casting a glimmer over his face and chest, the way his blue eyes gleamed with pride after a good night at practice.

I held my breath as I looked intently at him for a few seconds, watching him as he turned and rested his shoulder against the lockers before I exhaled quietly as possible and replied,

"Okay what about Thursday?"

"Works for me! See you then, Kyle."

Another smile. This one made my heart almost skip a beat as I watched him turn and head out the doors. I grinned widely as I finished gathering my things and rushed out of the change room to go home.

Once I got home I ate a quick dinner before heading up to my room to finish up math homework. I ended up mostly thinking about what I've been told. My mother's voice ran through my head. I could clearly see her standing there, hands on her wide hips and bright red hair done up same as always as she told me,

"Kyle. It's important you know this. All your life you've been raised in a religious household and although it hasn't been said until now,"

She looked at my father for help. He shook his head and took a deep breath.

"There's no easy way to put it but our religion has certain... rules around marriage and relationships. God has said that they shall only be between man and woman, so that's what we believe in as well."

My mother nodded as she continued.

"Now that's not to say we hate gay people, we just... well you see what we mean don't you?"

I nodded silently even though I didn't fully grasp the meaning of their words. That is, until today. As I slowly realized that I was... gay, I instantly denied it and refused to acknowledge my thoughts towards Stan. It was wrong, not what God had intended and because I had these thoughts I was going to hell.

With this in my mind as I lay on my bed that night I cried as quietly as I could into my pillow. Not in sadness but in anger. Why did I feel this way towards another guy? Was I made wrong and if I was, why would God so such a thing? I kept thinking about the way he moved so gracefully, especially on the court. The way his eyes could see right through whatever lie I told. His comforting voice that could almost always calm me down out of a fight.

Once this all clicked I vowed to never under any circumstance let my family find out about it. I wouldn't let Stan know either as I feared I would wreck my relationship with my family, and I could potentially lose my home and my Super Best Friend if they found out. This worked splendidly for me, that is, until I was 17.

Hey anyone who's read this far, know this is just the set up chapter and it's gonna get better! Please also drop comments on what to improve as I'm open to any criticism.