Late into the night, when all the kids and adults were sleeping respectively, ready to awake the Saturday morning next to go to their jobs or watch their cartoons. In this Las Vegas town, it wasn’t like that, though. Parents were already at work, especially mine, whom worked in casinos for graveyard shift. Ten to twelve hours a night they’re gone, leaving just before I come home from school, and coming home just after I go to bed. They were currently at work, and just like every Friday night, I had a friend over, my best friend, Bryan, someone whom I trusted and loved dearly, and wanted to know something very important which I’d just said.

He stared at me, black bangs of his purple hair falling into his honey brown eyes, which were huge and filled with something akin to concern, from the other side of the couch. His bottom lip was hanging slightly, mouth agape at my revelation. He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes, leaning his forehead on the palm of his hand for a moment. When he’d looked at me again, it was with curiosity, and he opened his mouth to say, “So, you’re a chick?”

“What? No!” I cried. I could’ve smacked him for his stupidity. “I’m gay, stupid! Not a chick!” Before I was frightened of what my revelation would bring, but now I just wanted him to understand, and was frustrated at his…naivety.

“But, Mark… You like dudes, right?” I nodded my head, badly wanting to say “Very good…” but held my tongue fast between my teeth. “Then, wouldn’t that mean you wanted to be a chick?”

“No,” I shook my head, stretching the no to emphasize my point. “I don’t want to be a chick, but I do like guys.”

He seemed to think for a minute, scratching his chin and eyebrows knitted tightly. He looked at me again, and said, “But… Only chicks like dudes, and most gay dudes want to be chicks.”

“I’m not like ‘most gay dudes’,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I still want to be a dude, while liking other dudes. I like my dick, as well as I like others.” He scratched his head again, my usually smart friend - well, in the video game department, anyway - having trouble comprehending.

“So… does that mean I’m gay?” He asked, his voice dull, his tone monotonous. It was my turn to gape, and that I did very well. My jaw dropped, like my ball sack did so many years ago. (Well, two, but who’s keeping track?)

“You’re gay, too?” I asked, hushed, as though someone were listening that shouldn’t.

“Well, you said they liked their dicks and others, so… Yeah?” Bryan said, plastering a bright smile on his face. My eyes were still wide, though, but I had managed to close my mouth. A small smile was curling with the corners of my lips like a flower petal wilting, and I felt relief burst like a bubble inside of me. He knew how I felt, and there was a chance - no matter how slight - that he returned my feelings. I was so happy. He didn’t even reject me, as I thought he would.

“You wanna watch a movie or something?” He asked, already crawling off of the couch across the floor to the DVD glass case. I gave a chance to look at his ass, fully, and nodded.

“Yes,” I said, grabbing the remote to turn on the TV and DVD player. We watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas sitting side by side, leaning on one another, in the darkness of the living room, the only light source the television’s glow. We ate popcorn, and a few times our hands touched. When this happened I saw, from the corner of my eye, Bryan smile softly before pulling his hand back. We slept on different sides of the bed - as many times before -, and I awoke early in the morning to find he’d rolled towards me during the night and was pressed warmly to my back. I had smiled, and fell back asleep, happy.

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Robin's Note: This will be continued, really. I just have to find the right... thingy.... Um, yeah.