And so it started, the first day of therapy that I didn't need. I am not crazy, I do not do drugs, I don't smoke, and I am a virgin. I have never tasted alcohol (besides communion), I have never been through anything remotely tragic, I receive almost perfect marks on my report cards, I hang out with the right crowd, I wear the right cloths, I do everything my mom and dad ask of me. And yet there I was, standing outside a pair of large oak doors on the inside of my church, while everyone else was attending the sermon. I was wishing bitterly to join them.

On the door was a small schedule listing all the counseling groups and their times:

Unwed Mothers 7:00 A.M

Come join other mothers facing the same difficulties as you

Teenage Mothers 8:00 A.M

Come talk to women who can share some advice

Peer to Peer 9:00 A.M

Talk with other teenagers your age about worries, concerns or troubles

Alcoholism 10:00 A.M


Abortion 11:00 A.M

A child is a gift from God

Homosexuality 12:00 P.M

I inwardly groaned; the sign did not even make a comment on homosexuality. I wanted to bang my head on the oak door and take out some of my built up frustration on it, but I thought better of that idea when I remembered I was in the house of God.

I slowly brought my hand up to the door, balled it into a fist and timidly knocked, wishing with my whole being that no one would answer. I was about to close my eyes and pray to God, begging him to let no one be behind the oak door. However, before I could slip my eyes closed someone walked up to the door and pulled it open. A boy about two years older than me opened the door. He towered over me by at least a foot and had a sturdy lean frame. He had dark brown hair that was pulled back into a pony tail, his deep set eyes were a beautiful color of green; he had a square chin and a straight nose. Overall he was a very attractive boy, I was not afraid to admit, but I for one was not gay as I have already said. I stood dumbfounded staring at him, watching as a small smirk came to his face. I opened and closed my mouth finding that my voice wasn't working; my face was starting to heat up, I lowered my head and cleared my throat.

"Is this the counseling group for…" I let my words trail off, because I was too embarrassed to say the word 'homosexuality' in front of this boy. If you called me a chicken I would not deny it.

I looked up hoping that he would nod or slam the door in my face, something to assure me that I had not just made a complete fool out of myself. However, he just stood there with a smirk on his face, barring the entrance to the room.

"U-um," I started again, because he looked as if he was expecting something.

"Go on," he said, his voice deep and smooth, "I can't answer your question if you haven't finished it." His smirk danced over his face. I went two shades darker. I hated being on the spot; I would never be able to find my voice, I would go red, forget what I was supposed to say, feel nauseous, and all with in a very short period of time.

"I-I um," I began, only to once again clear my throat to make sure my voice wouldn't crack, which would only worsen the situation. "Never mind," I said at last and turned to leave. I was missing the sermon and that was more important than going to a counseling group for homosexuals when I was not even gay.

"Wait," the boy called after me, but I didn't stop; I just wanted to be as far away as possible from the large oak doors. "I said wait." The boy's voice was more frustrated this time as he took off after me. I was about to break into a run to get away from him, but before I could his hand tightened securely around my upper arm.

"I'm sorry," the boy began.

I stood dumbfounded and still could not bring myself to look at his face.

"I shouldn't have embarrassed you like that." At this I looked up. He had a smile in place of his cynical smirk. I smiled at this, and my insides instantly let go of their fear – well most of it at least.

"Hi." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Wes." He smiled larger and for a second I wonder why, but I took his hand nonetheless.

"I'm Adrian," I recited in a quieter voice as I shook his hand.

"Okay, well why don't we go back," he started and instantly I knew he was just acting friendly to trick me.

"Um… I really don't think – " I started, but he only smiled more and grabbed my hand, pulling me in tow behind him, saying something about how going back to the sermon would just be a waste of time. So I followed him, all the way to the large, oak doors that, only seconds ago, I never wanted to see again.

Wes effortlessly pushed on one and it flew open reveling what I had been dreading: a small circle of chairs spaced a good distance apart, with two boys who already sat in the chairs. All eyes were looking up at Wes and me, which made me, against all reason, begin to go red.

Sometimes I hate to be me.

Wes simply led us to two chairs and sat down with an accomplished smile. I, on the other hand, looked at the chair like the final element to bind my soul to this place forever. I could run away now and never look back, but that would be embarrassing, and since I had sprained my ankle and the last track meet, I would not get that far. So with a last ounce of effort I walked over to the chair next to Wes and some other male I did not know, and sat down.

The counselor glanced at her watch, saw that it was 12:08, and smiled as she started her lecture.

"Now we will start by going around the circle and introducing ourselves and telling why we are here," she said in a calm voice that bordered with eerie.

The first boy had short light brown hair that was spiked with gel, and large piercing blue eyes, a small nose and a pointed chin. "Hi I'm Brent," he began with a half-smile on his face, "and I'm here because my dad found my stash of porn." His smile grew wider as Wes and the boy next to me started to chuckle. The counselor threw them nasty looks.

"Brent, you are here because of you have a problem. Try not to blame others for your mistakes," the counselor began, her voice slightly more hostile. Instantly I knew I was going to hate her and I now was regretting that I had not run. "Do you want to try that again?" she questioned. I felt like stabbing her eye out, and it was not even my turn yet.

"Okay," his smile grew wider, "Hi, I'm Brent, and I'm here because my dad found my stash of porn," he repeated but this time he continued, "He doesn't understand where true beauty lies." At this, the kid next to me burst out in laughter, which only made the counselor glare dagger at him, somehow I was reminded distinctly of a hyena.

"We will come back to you," she said softly, her voice shaking slightly as she spoke; she looked at Wes and smiled.

"My name is Wes," he began, his voice carrying a level of pride with each word that slipped from his lips, "and I'm here because my mom read through my journal and found out all my sweet little secrets." Almost on cue, the boy next to me began to chuckle. I thought about joining in, but I realized that I did not belong in here, as everyone else here was gay.

"Wes, I understand why you would want to keep this a secret," the counselor began in her smooth voice, "but you should thank you mother because she brought you here to get help and to be saved from this path of wickedness you are taking; you should thank her when you get home today." She finished with a weak smile and turned to me, I could feel my face heating up and I was almost afraid to answer but I figured I would look like more of an ass if I did not say anything.

"My name is Adrian," I began softly, and I could already hear whispers around the room of people who weren't interested in who I was, "and I'm here because…" My words trailed off; I couldn't say I was gay because I wasn't, and I couldn't say that my mom forced me against my will because that would sound like I was gay. The counselor raised an eyebrow and I continued, "because my dad's paranoid," and the three guys around me started to chuckle. I was about to smile but the counselor glared at me.

"No, that is not why you are here, you are hear because you have a problem, and the first step to recovery is admitting you have one," she finished, her face going slightly red. There was only one thing to do, and no, it was not admit that I was gay, because that would be lying.

For a moment, the counselor stared down at me with a look of disgust and I, of course, looked anywhere but at her face and her piercing eyes. I hated being so shy and antisocial, but then again who wouldn't?

Finally, the woman moved on to the boy next to me. He had dark blue hair cropped short and spiked, his eyes were a soft hazel, and his complexion was pale, with a nose that was slightly turned up at the tip and a pointed chin like Brent. He introduced himself as Tyson and explained how he was being "brutally forced" to come here because his mother walked in on him and his boyfriend "fucking like bunnies."

At this, I could not help but smile, watching amusedly as the counselor started to hyperventilate. For the rest of the session, she lectured us on how, if we did not change our ways, we would be damned to hell and all we had to do was stop our wicked acts and ask God to purify our black souls.

I was not listening; I did not need to be here, so instead my mind wandered to each of the boys that sat around me. Brent seemed pretty nice, although why he would have porno in his room baffled me. But then again, whenever I get the urge to look at or imagine anything inappropriate I take a cold shower.

It had been explained to me earlier in my life that to relieve myself was a sin, and if I was to live in the house that I had grown up in I was never to sin for reasons of perversion (although now that I look back, it might have been just my mom being her usual self). My mother was very strict when it came to God and she was known to make up stuff when she wasn't sure, and even if she was, it was an attention thing. My father however, encouraged me to gain "a healthy appetite," for women, as he put it, and even tried to sneak me some porn once. I had declined hurriedly.

I glanced up feeling someone's eyes boring holes into me, only to see Wes's bright green eyes staring back into mine. The moment I looked into his, his green orbs widened slightly and he looked down.

I smiled a little, knowing that there sat the only other male that wrote in a diary, except for me. I too looked down at my hands; my father had told me many times that to write in a diary was just too 'faggish' for him to think about. He once even tried to steal it so he could throw it away. I had walked in on him while he was committing the crime and reminded him that to steal another's property was a sin.

I bid my mind to slip away from Wes's eyes, and before I could stop myself I was thinking about Tyson. I wondered how exactly he and his boyfriend were fucking like rabbits when hi–

I heard Brent whisper under his breath that this counseling group was a pain in his ass. A burst of realization struck me like a brick to the head and instantly I went red. A scene of Tyson and another boy "fucking like bunnies" played in my mind, and I reddened darker as I tried to clear my mind, cursing myself for having such a vivid imagination.

"Are you all right Adrian?" the counselor questioned, once again staring down at me, now with a look of half concern.

"I'm not feeling well…may I go the restroom?" I murmured under my breath as I saw Wes looking at me worriedly.

"We're right in the middle of – " she started, and I reddened more. The scene became more violent and desperate and I had to admit this was not the first time I had thought about this, sin or no sin, I was a boy, and sometimes a cold shower won't cut it. However, before it had been with a female and afterwards I had confessed my sin to God.

"I have seen the error of my ways, and I'm truly sorry for my actions," I said quickly as a small smile spread over the counselor's face.

"I guess you can go but hurry back. I want to know what suddenly changed your mind after a lifetime of sin," the counselor said but I was already halfway across the room. A pair of green eyes still stared at my back, raising the hair on my neck.

I ran through the halls towards the bathroom, which thankfully was empty, since everyone else was sitting comfortably in chairs listening to the pastor who was spreading God's word. How I wish to be there instead of the 'homosexual' counseling group. I could just imagine what would happen if this got out around school.

I have a hard enough time as it is with larger guys trying to beat me up for a power stroke to their ego, for one fleeting moment to be cool in the eyes of another by beating up a geek. Only two or three larger football players pick on me now, either for the fun of it or to get that day's homework. However, if anyone suspected me of being gay, the whole school would turn against me in order to save their own souls from being tainted. I would draw more attention, there would be countless name-calling, and what little acquaintances I had, classified as geeks or nerds, would distance themselves from me.

I groaned as I made my way over to the sink and splashed cold water on my face. To my immense relief I relaxed and began to lose the coloring in my face. If you are thinking that I have rosacea, you are wrong; I blush because the only attention I receive is at home, where my mom even shows wariness of hugging me. My whole family is like that, as if they're afraid to touch someone else, and I would be the first to tell anyone that hidden behind the church going surface, it is dysfunctional, some more than others.

I leaned over the sink feeling slightly disgusted with my mom. I doubt she has ever read the Bible and here she was spreading God's word to her family. However, you get used to it after a while; you just have to assume that everything that would be considered remotely bad is a sin.

I looked into the mirror only to see a pair of honey eyes staring back, I had blond hair that hung down over my slightly tanned face, a pointed chin and small nose, I wasn't that tall reaching the height of 5 6' (and a half) and I have a small build. I sighed before returning to what I was doing.

The door opened and someone walked in. Startled, I jumped up from where I leaned over the sink and went to retrieve a paper towel to dry my face.

"Hey Adrian," a voice called, and a gentle hand was placed on my shoulder. I jumped as my breath caught in my throat; the hand removed itself. "Are you okay?" I threw the towel in the trashcan and slowly turned around, only to meet a pair of dazzling green eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine, why wouldn't I be fine?" I asked hurriedly, my words running together and sounding slightly defensive.

"I was just wondering," Wes stated slowly before continuing, much to my dismay. "You sure ran out of there like your ass was on fire." My eyes widened slightly at Wes's language, but I decided that he was only stating what happened, however even I couldn't stop round two of the bunny-like Tyson images in my mind; I again went red.

"Sorry," I replied as I racked my mind for an excuse. "I was just feeling slightly claustrophobic." It was a lie, but I could always ask for God's forgiveness if I explained to him the circumstances provided in this situation.

"Really?" Wes raised an eyebrow, his voice clearly holding a tone that almost screamed that he did not believe me.

"Really," I said quietly as my blush deepened; I decided I had had enough of this conversation and pushed past him slightly, only now realizing how close he actually was.

Wes however, had different plans, he sidestepped blocking my path only to lightly push me against the wall. My face was on fire and I knew this was an inappropriate amount of contact. Wes pushed against me, and just as I was about to shove him away from me, his hand cupped my face and his lips slowly closed over mine.

I did not know what to do, I realized that this was my first kiss, and some guy I didn't even know was stealing it; I briefly felt like crying even after he slowly parted from my face. I wanted to smack him, to inflict some kind of pain to him, but I didn't. I merely placed my hand over my lips, and blinked away my tears before once again trying to push past him; he stepped in front of me again.

"What do you want?" My voice was shaking as I slowly clenched my hands into fists.

"You," Wes said softly and instantly I began to panic. I shoved against his chest hoping to free myself from the wall he was pinning me to, but he did not budge.

"I'm not gay," I finally said as the tears I had been trying to hide clouded my vision once again.

"I know," Wes said softly with a confident tone in his voice.

"Okay…" I trailed off and once again I tried to find a way around Wes, he again blocked my way.

"What do you want now?" I asked, starting to get agitated. "I'm not gay, I won't go out with you, I am attracted to the opposite sex. Can I make this any clearer to you?" I asked and already I felt as if I should not have said anything. I drew back slightly almost as if I was afraid he was going to hit me.

"It would be a shame if a few people found out that you were attending a counseling group for homosexuals," Wes began softly; I could already feel the fear gripping my heart.

"You wouldn't," was all I could manage as I watched a smile grow on his face, I silently started calling him names in my head, each one worse than the last.

"You're right, I won't if I get what I want." Wes smiled innocently and I wished right then and there that he would die. I closed my eyes and whispered an apology to God.

"I will not have sex with you," I growled as I tried to push him away from me; to say the least, it didn't work.

"Okay, then go out with me… for two weeks." His smile turned into a wicked grin, knowing that he had me put on the spot.

"WHAT!?" I felt myself growing angry that this boy whom I had just met, was harassing me. I felt like I was about to be raped in the restroom. The thought 'classic scenario' quickly ran through my brain.

"L-look, first off, I don't even know w-who you are. Second, like I said before, I'm NOT gay!" I yelled as I became painfully aware at how close he was; my body instantly went frigid as my mind began to curse at me for being so easy to manipulate.

Wes smiled his charming smile that made me silently wonder how many girls- or guys- he had seduced with it. "Like I said, give me two weeks, and then I'll leave you alone," Wes' words seemed like they were honey spilling from a jar, smooth and silky.

"A-and i-if I do this?" I paused; this was wrong. Everything that had been said in this bathroom seemed like a conversation that belonged to different people, not to me, the boy that tried to never displease his parents. However, something about this made my heart beat harder with anticipation then it ever had, something about Wes or this situation in general made me feel almost courageous. "You will leave me alone after two weeks?" I questioned, my shaky voice growing steadier.

"Yes, I won't even utter a word in your direction." Wes' eyes had a look of honesty and I knew I could believe him. I slowly nodded my head with a grim look on my face as if I were making a deal with the Devil himself.

"Okay," I whispered and before I knew it Wes had enveloped me in his arms, a goofy grin spreading over his face. He seemed happy as he said a long sentences of what sounded like his reassurance, of how much I wouldn't regret this.

It took him a while to regain his cool, but even then the goofy smile remained as he held out his hand for me to take. And right then the weirdest thing happened; I actually took it, only feeling slightly awkward when he laced his fingers through mine.

"Let's go back," he suggested, and I merely nodded my head and headed out of the bathroom, all the while thinking of what I would say to the counselor. 'I have changed my mind…' but then again I couldn't say that because it would sound like I'm already gay, and I'm not.


Hugs and kisses to my beta (aka: Sir Mocha)