CHAPTER 1: LEAN, MEAN GREEN SKINNY JEANS

My name is Brett Castor, and I'm gay.

No, I'm not at Alcoholics Anonymous (Gays Anonymous?) and I'm not on Oprah or Queer Eye, I'm just stating a fact.

Most of it isn't for dramatic effect...I mean, if you want drama, just ask me to tell you about how I got my current boyfriend. That's drama.

Wait, do you seriously want to hear the story? Fine. You asked for it.

Let's see, where to begin...oh, right! I was shopping for jeans with Miranda.

Miranda Noblok is probably my best friend of all time. If I remember correctly, she was the first person in the entire world who I told I was gay. I love her to death...if I were straight, I'd have to marry her. Even though I'm not, I might just anyway.

So anyway, we were at Urban Outfitters where they were having a sale on skinny jeans, and I needed a new green pair after some jockass (my made-up word to describe jocks who also double as jackasses...imagine that!) threw barbeque sauce on them. Miranda was telling me about some hot guy she was dating.

"He has the cutest blue eyes I've ever seen in my entire life," she said as she sifted through the racks of fancy scarves. I sighed.

"Didn't you say that about the last guy you dated?" She rolled her eyes at me.

"Well...yeah, but he didn't have the same kind of eyes that boyfriend has." I just looked at her, and then went back to trying on some brand new t-shirts.

It was May, so the weather was close to blistering. The windows of the store were open and the scent of late spring air mixed with car fumes . It was refreshing, but yet strangely comforting.

At that exact moment, I heard their voices. The jockasses. What were they doing in Urban Outfitters? Didn't they belong in their black and white con outfits finding shoes for ignorant potential jockasses at Sports Authority? This was NOT their natural habitat.

But then I saw him. Chase Ryder, the absolute hottest guy in school. He walked with an air of confidence that wasn't swagger but simple absolute knowledge that he owned the entire world. He had velvety blond hair that made my raggedy auburn mop look like it hadn't ever known a bottle of shampoo. He was dressed in something surprisingly modern, like he had stepped right out of the pages of GQ and into my reality. Gorgeous? Beyond.

"Are you even listening to me?" Miranda asked. I turned to her, indicating that I hadn't.

"I was saying..." she began, but then looked to where I had been staring. "Chase Ryder?" I blushed slightly.

"Brett, there's not a chance in hell that you'll end up together." I frowned.

"What do you mean?"

She looked at me with a withering expression. "He's been dating Danni Sadler for at least five years. They're practically married."

I sighed. "It's true, it's true. I don't have a chance in hell at all." She shook her head.

"Sad, isn't it," she said. I glared at her.

"Um, you're supposed to be telling me that I have some chance and that you believe in me and in fate and that considering that I read my horoscope everyday I deserve to have something good happen to me." Miranda looked at me, confused.

"But that's not true..." she said. I rolled my eyes.

"Never mind," I grumbled. Stepping backwards to admire myself in one of the discounted scarves I smacked into someone. When I turned around to apologize, I found myself face to face with one of Chase's jockass cronies, Matt Kraft.

"Watch where you're going, fag," he snapped. I looked down nervously and stepped away. At once I felt a hand on my shoulder. Immediately I thought it was Miranda, but soon realized that it was too big and meaty to be her hand.

"Leave him alone, Matt," Chase Ryder said, removing his hand from my shoulder to shove Matt away from me. I just stood there like a dolt, staring at Chase with a dumbfounded expression on my face. In retrospect, I'd probably have taken a time machine back to that moment, walked up to Matt, slapped him across the face, and whisked Chase away on a magic unicorn led by Miranda.

But I can't go back...and if I could, what would change and for what?

Anyway, Chase and Matt are there fighting and I'm freaking out and Miranda is nowhere to be found and I'm dying for a latte and I really have to pee. Like really.

All of a sudden there's a crash and Matt is on the floor and Chase is on top of him and a cabinet is on its side and it's right next to me and I realize that I could be dead if I were standing right there. The obvious reaction to this situation is to scream, and of course I do. Like a woman.

Oh God. Way embarrassing.

By the time that I was functional enough to stop my screaming fit, Chase and Matt had been whisked away by mall security. I turned behind me to put the scarf back and saw that Miranda had magically re-appeared.

"I didn't even get a chance to thank him," I whined. She put on her Dolce and Gabana shades that happened to match mine (I am the trendsetter of the two of us, not the trendfollower).

"Chances of that happening?" she asks.

"Slim to none," I sigh, but she's already at the counter paying for her new clothes.

With our purchases in hand, we set off to find the Starbucks at the other end of the mall. On our way, I caught a glimpse of myself in one of the windows. I wouldn't describe myself as hot, but I guess I'm cute. I have these stunning green eyes that I think are the best part about me (Miranda says I should be an eye model, if there is such a thing). The image made me realize that Chase Ryder, gay or straight, would simply never go for a guy like me.

Miranda eventually realized that I wasn't following her and backtracked to find me staring glumly at my reflection.

"Brett, you look like you just saw a Chihuahua get run over by an Escalade. You're really ugly when you're upset, so if you're trying to evaluate your looks now is probably not the best time. Let's go get you a latte."

"I have to pee," I whined. She rolled her eyes.

"God, it's like having a two-year old. Go pee and meet me at Starbucks. You want that weird vanilla hazelnut mocha crap right?" I nodded and she set off with both of our bags. I turned around and headed to where the bathrooms were.

Normally I wouldn't describe my escapades in the bathroom (there's only so many ways you can tell what happens in a bathroom since you only have three options with slight variations on the theme) but what I saw in that bathroom was fascinating.

Chase Ryder was crying. In a stall. Like a girl.

You see something new everyday, ladies and gentlemen.

I stood there awkwardly, pretending to read the graffiti on the bathroom mirrors.

"Brett?" I jumped about seven feet in the air and my heart was beating like an 808 drum.

"Chase? How did you know I was here?"

He sighed from inside the stall. "Your shoes. No one else that I know owns fluorescent blue Converse." I contemplated this for a minute and then nodded before I realized that he couldn't see.

"Er, yeah...everything okay?" I asked, then mentally slapped myself in the face. So stupid.

"I guess," he said wearily. I stood there for a moment.

"You can tell me...I promise I won't tell anyone. Unless you're doing something dangerous like-" I cut myself off before I could dig myself a deeper hole.

There was silence.

"My girlfriend and I broke up," he said with a slight quiver to his voice. My heart stopped and then restarted at a probably deadly pace.

"Wow," I said. "That was what, five years?" He took in breath sharply, making me realize that I was probably only making things worse.

"I'm really sorry," I said. He flushed the toilet and opened the stall door, walking over to the sinks to wash his hands.

"Thanks, Brett," he murmured, running his hands under the water. He flung them dry, and then went over to the door.

"I won't tell anyone," I said as he was about to open it. He stood there silent for a second, and then looked at me straight in the eye. The blue was striking, and I could only imagine what he thought about my green eyes.

"I know," he said, and left. I stood there, gently wiped my sweaty hands on my designer jeans, and made a beeline for Starbucks. I saw Miranda sitting at a table by the window facing onto the highway with her tea and my latte. I wearily took a seat and she passed my shopping bags over to me.

"So what took you so long?" she asked, then stopped. "Do I want to know?"

I took a sip of my latte. "Well, let's see..." I frowned. The drink was too hot. Removing the lid, I started again. "Basically, Chase Ryder was in the bathroom crying over his girlfriend alone in a stall."

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "In the bathroom? Wasn't he just apprehended by mall security for ripping Urban Outfitters apart?" I waved my hand dismissively.

"He's Chase Ryder...he probably gets away with a ton of stuff." She shrugged, gesturing for me to continue. I stirred my latte.

"Anyway, he said that he and Danni broke up." Miranda's eyes bugged out and she nearly spit out her tea all over the table, but managed to swallow it.

"He and Danni broke up?" she asked between racking coughs. I nodded, calmly drinking my latte. She shook her head and took a sip of tea to help her coughing.

"After five years," I added. She shook her head again.

"Such a pity," she said sadly, folding her napkin into an origami swan. At that moment, both of our phones rang. Mine was my mom.

Before I say anything about the phone call, let me tell you a bit about my mother. My mom is probably the funniest person on earth, even if that sense of humor can get her into trouble. Case in point: at a party she was talking to the governor of Massachusetts about politicians and my homosexuality ('I bet you that most of those goddamn politicians are gay, but if they think too hard about it they might hurt themselves!') and not only did she get thrown out, but the governor came out as gay the next day. My mom credits herself with that.

I answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Goddamn it, Bertha, you made the bed wrong AGAIN," she shouted. I could tell that she's not actually holding the phone. There was some crackling and then a rippling sound. (Bertha, in case you were wondering, is our maid.)

"I swear to GOD, sometimes I think you don't even know your own name," she shouted again. More crackling.

"Mom," I nearly shouted. There's a bang.

"Brett? Where are you? I didn't even hear you come in!" she screamed. I rolled my eyes, looking over at Miranda who's completely red in the face. This ought to be interesting.

"Mom," I shouted, "You called me on your cell phone...I'm talking to you through the phone." There's more crackling.

"Oh," she said, and I could tell that she was holding the phone. "I still don't know how to work this damn thing. How are ya? Did you get your jeans yet?"

"Yes, mom," I said warily. "I got my jeans. I'm chilling at Starbucks now with Miranda."

"HI MIRANDA!" she shouted. I winced and hold the phone away from me.

"Mom, that was right in my ear," I said, trying to restrain my growing impatience.

"Okay, well bye now!" she said, and hung up the phone. I put it back in my pocket and drained the last of my latte. Miranda was still on the phone, blushing like a beet.

I stared out the window absentmindedly, looking at the cars going by. Never in my entire life had I had a boyfriend. I resigned myself from a young age to being single, and I simply did not have any patience for the jockasses or stupid guys in my school. Being a senior, stuff was especially tough, and I was not looking forward to prom.

Chase Ryder was what honestly kept me going. I went to sleep at night dreaming of him and woke up every morning expecting to find him lying there next to me. I wanted him so badly. Why didn't things ever work out for me? It didn't seem fair that every time I wanted something, some cruel twist of fate took it away from me. I just wanted to have something good happen to me for once, without someone ruining it for me.

Right then, Miranda got off the phone, still red as ever. She looked excited, and was about to tell me something before her face faded into absolute horror. She threw away her tea and stood up. "We should get home," she said.

I stood up too. "Why? What's the matter?"

She shook her head. "We should just go home. Now." She tried to push past me, but I stopped her.

"Miranda, what's wrong?" Her eyes were wide and she just shook her head at me, trying to elbow past.

I swung her around to face me. "Tell me," I said, quiet but firm.

She looked down, and then up at me.

"Chase Ryder asked me out and I said yes," she said.

I let go of her and stood there for a moment. My body felt numb. I couldn't think. I couldn't talk. I couldn't feel.

"Let's go," she said. I shook my head.

"No," I said. "Let's find Chase." She looked confused, and I took that opportunity to bolt out of Starbucks and dash through the mall. I heard her calling my name, but I couldn't stop running, I just had to find him, I had to, I had to.

Up and down halls, searching through stores, I racked my brain for answers. I took a break inside the Justice store to think, and I came to these three conclusions.

Chase Ryder was not, and never would be gay.

Miranda Noblok had betrayed me.

I couldn't trust anyone.

I took off again, right into the food court...and it was then that I spotted him, standing there drinking a smoothie with his jockasses. I stormed up to him and got in his face.

"You!" I shouted in a fit of insanity mixed with adrenaline.

He looked at me like I was crazy, which I was, I think.

"You are a lying, filthy, cheating, creep," I spat at him.

"What did I do?" he asked in confusion.

"EVERYTHING," I screamed at him. He looked taken aback by my outburst. His cronies were dumbfounded. I guess they didn't expect this from me...cause I didn't either.

"And above all," I drawled dramatically, turning around to head to the parking lot, "YOU ARE A JOCKASS, CHASE RYDER. A JOCKASS!" I didn't turn back, just took off running.

I found my car, threw my bags in the back, and sped down the highway home.

"Brett?" my mom asked. I didn't say anything, just walked past her when I got back.

I stormed up to my room, sat down on my bed, and cried my eyes out.