Ummmm another high school story. It wouldn't leave me alone!
If Like Repels Like, Do Opposites Attract?: Chapter 1
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"Fag."
Sam grunted as he was shoved into a locker by a passing by footballer. It was recently confirmed that he was in fact a homosexual. He was surprised by some of the reactions. It wasn't like it was a big secret. He wore eyeliner for fuck's sake. But there were a few people, mostly jocks, that gave him some more hassle than usual.
"Hey Sammy boy, looking good today," Todd, a basketball player, catcalled at him. He was flanked by his teammate Chad and his cheerleader girlfriend, Alyssa.
"Oh thanks Todd. That mean you're going to blow me during lunch?" Sam sassily replied.
Todd let out a barking laugh. "I'll leave that to my man Chad."
Chad pushed Todd's shoulder, but didn't say anything in response.
Sam just shook his head and made his way to be on time for his next class, even if it was only a study hall. The trio he just passed were in this one with him. Surprisingly, Alyssa broke from the pack and was only one step behind him, taking a seat next to him.
"You do look cute today, even if my douche bag boyfriend was only joking," she even more surprisingly, complimented him.
"Ummm thanks?" Sam was honestly confused. Alyssa was someone who had maybe said 5 words to him their entire high school career.
"So obviously I heard about what happened at the party," she stated.
"Yeah? What about it?"
"So, I think it's cool that you're out of the closet."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Like everyone didn't know anyway. Jocks have been calling me fag since middle school."
"I like your eyeliner," Alyssa randomly complimented. "You do it so fine, it looks nice. Have you ever thought about wearing lip gloss? You have a nice mouth."
"Ummmm…We exchanging beauty secrets now?" Sam didn't know whether to be amused or annoyed.
She rummaged in her bag, pulling out a tube of lip gloss. "Here, try it," she uncapped it and leaned over to put it on him.
Sam let her, figuring it was better to get her to do what she wanted and get it out of her system so she left him alone.
She sat back and admired her handiwork with a smile. "Looks great. Check it out," she passed him a small compact mirror.
Flipping it open, he took a look. It wasn't bad, his lips appeared fuller than normal and looked, well, glossy.
He handed her back the compact and noticed that Todd and Chad were watching a few seats away.
"Hey Sammy, Chad here wants to know if your lips taste like strawberries," Todd called out.
Chad shoved Todd. "Shut up," he grumbled.
Alyssa had a weird smile on her face and Sam felt like he'd just been made into the butt of a bad joke. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand with a frown.
"Oh! Why'd you do that?" Alyssa sounded shocked.
"Are you done? Because I am," Sam snapped at her and purposefully opened his textbook.
"Todd was just being an ass. You looked nice."
Sam didn't reply, pointedly ignoring her.
"Here, keep this. It looked better on you anyway." She set the tube of lip gloss on his desk and left him alone for the rest of the period.
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The next real class Sam had was history. He didn't really feel one way or another about the topic, but it was a class with Alyssa, Todd, and Chad so he felt bitter about going. He was annoyed by the stunt Alyssa pulled in study hall. He had actually thought she was being genuinely nice to him.
The tube of lip gloss in his pocket made him wonder if she had been genuine, but he couldn't quite believe that.
Sam took his seat. It was next to the window and almost the last seat. Unfortunately, Chad sat behind him.
Chad was a very tall guy, being on the basketball team, and had this annoying habit of stretching his legs out on either side of Sam's chair. The desks were close together so when he did this, Sam always felt as if Chad was purposefully getting in his space. Chad's knees would brush against Sam's legs and hips. A few times, when shifting in his seat or getting something out of his bag, Sam had accidentally touched Chad's thighs.
It was no different that day.
And it annoyed Sam to no end, especially after the study hall thing.
When Chad's knee grazed his leg, Sam suddenly felt a vindictive urge to get back at him.
The windows were to the left of them so there was no one on his left to see if he…
He reached back and put his hand right on Chad's knee. Let's see how much he liked having a fag touch him.
Chad's leg jerked a little, but didn't move away.
Sam decided to up the ante and began to slowly circle his fingers, first on Chad's knee, then slowly up his thigh.
Oh…Sam usually didn't have a thing for muscled types of guys, but wondered if he should. Chad's thigh was firm under his silky basketball shorts. He moved his hand a little higher and thought he heard Chad make a small sound in his throat.
Chad's leg moved away from his touch. "Ummm…Mrs. Browne? Can I go to the bathroom?"
"The proper phrase is may I Mr. Murphy, and yes, you may," the teacher answered her standard reply, before going back to her lecture.
Sam watched him go. As he turned back to the front, he noticed Alyssa staring at him knowingly.
A note was tossed onto his desk. He opened it to see: You and me are going to have lunch together. We need to talk.
It was signed Alyssa.
He glanced at her to see her staring at him still, her gaze almost a physical force of it's own. He found himself nodding and she gave him a small smile in return.
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Sam waited for Alyssa outside of the classroom.
"Hey, let's go to the commons," she suggested when she approached him.
What the students called "the commons" was a small quad outside with picnic tables and benches. The seniors were the only students allowed out there during lunchtimes.
Sam agreed with her and they settled at a table away from other people.
"So, we're BFF now?" Sam couldn't hold back his sarcasm.
Alyssa sighed. "Look, I know people haven't exactly been nice to you since you came out, but think about it, who's been bullying you and who's been more joking."
She did have a point when he thought about it. The football players had been the worst, shoving him and bordering on violence. Todd, Chad and the basketball players more picked on him verbally, sometimes being almost humorous.
"You know I'm right," she stated.
"Yeah," Sam agreed.
"I know my boyfriend is a douche, but he's a loveable douche. You shouldn't take anything he says seriously," She gave him a sideways glance and added softly. "Don't take it out on Chad."
"Huh?" Sam was confused. "What do you mean?"
She stared at him. "Wow, guys are so dumb sometimes, even gay ones."
"Hey!"
"I'm not trying to insult you, but I saw what you did to Chad in history."
Sam felt a little embarrassed. "He kept touching me with his knee! I was getting sick of it," Sam defensively protested.
"It just makes you like Missy."
Sam was confused again. "What?"
"Just think about it okay?" She swung her legs over the bench and walked away.
Sam watched her go, still confused. Missy was a girl in their year who was a huge tease, with huge tits to match. She prided herself on her appearance to get her what she wanted out of life. Sam was a little offended that Alyssa would compare him to her. They didn't have anything in common as far as….
Oh.
Sam suddenly remembered an instance that happened the previous year in his Chemistry class. Derek was the smartest kid in school, probably the one to be their valedictorian and go off to make lots of money. He was a kind of scrawny and weedy looking guy. Missy had been his lab partner. She would basically get him to do all the labs. In class one time she had been pressing her sizable breasts against Derek's arm as usual and he suddenly ran from the classroom, with a noticeable hard on, to the bathroom. Everyone had joked about it for weeks afterwards, how she had basically made him cum in class. Derek had taken it good naturedly and joked that if any hetero guy had those tits against him they would have done the same thing.
But that's not what happened in history was it? Chad didn't run to the bathroom because Sam got him hard. No way. That was just crazy.
Chad was someone that Sam wouldn't have thought of sexually in a million years. Chad was too tall, too rough, too masculine. Even though Sam was considered an artsy pretty boy, he preferred pretty boys. He liked someone more similar to him, not his complete opposite.
And Chad was opposite, solidly built. He had sandy blonde hair that he kept cut short. Sometimes he didn't shave for a couple days and his face would have scruffy stubble. He had round blue eyes and a face that was completely masculine. There wasn't anything soft about his features, being straight almost harsh. He wasn't bad looking, just not what Sam was usually into.
Sam was the complete opposite. He was short, he might barely come up to Chad's shoulder. He had long black hair that he sometimes kept in a ponytail. His features were fine and pretty, he had slanted hazel eyes that switched from being more green to a goldish color. His body was slender and he wore skinny jeans and t-shirts. He always wore a black leather band around his left wrist. He'd always been called a pretty boy.
"This is too weird," he shook his head as he muttered to himself. Contemplating if Chad Murphy was attracted to him. There was no possibility of that. He was annoyed that Alyssa even planted the idea in his mind, because now he couldn't seem to stop thinking about it.
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When school was over for the day, Sam went to the art room. His teacher always stayed after for about an hour and invited any students who wanted to work on projects. He was almost finished with a painting he was working on and he was really proud of it. It might just be his best piece yet, kind of impressionistic but done with acrylic paints. He put in his headphones and got into his work zone.
His teacher's hand on his shoulder was the only thing that broke his concentration.
"Hey, I'm locking up now Sam," she told him. "That looks like it's coming along. A+ for sure."
He grinned. "Thanks Ms. Rosenburg. I think I'm going to bring it home to work on. I'm inspired today."
"I'm looking forward to seeing it finished."
Sam was glad that Acrylics were fairly quick drying so he didn't have to worry too much about smudging his canvas as he walked home.
It was a nice fall day, the air was getting that brisker feeling, hinting of the winter weather to come, but days like this were Sam's favorite.
He almost didn't notice when four football players approached him.
"Hey look, it's the fag," one said.
Sam ignored him, hoping that they would just go away. He kept walking, eyes straight ahead.
"What's that?" One of them slapped the canvas from his hands.
"Don't touch that," He reached for it.
One of them pushed him down and then too much happened at once for Sam to recollect the events in order. All he knew was he was being hit, kicked, and laughed at. He registered hearing the squealing of tires and in his gut he wondered if this was the end.
"Get the fuck out of here!" He heard a voice yell.
"Dude chill out," one of the football players said, but they all backed off, leaving Sam lying on the ground.
He felt a hand touch his arm gently. "Hey, fuck you're bleeding."
He opened his eyes to see Chad leaning over him.
"Come to finish me off?" Sam joked.
Chad looked shocked at the statement, but merely said, "Can you get up Sammy?"
"Don't call me Sammy, I hate that," He muttered then winced as he moved into a seated position. His body was aching.
Chad sighed, slinging Sam's backpack over his shoulder, then picking Sam up as if he were some damsel in distress. Sam was shocked by how easily Chad lifted him as if it were nothing.
"Hey, I can walk myself! I…" Sam stopped ranting when out of the corner of his eye he spotted his painting. The canvas was mangled and looked as if it had been stomped on. "My painting…" He whispered and was ashamed that he felt tears welling in his eyes and his breath hitching. He was practically sobbing when Chad settled him in the passenger seat of his truck.
"Easy now, breathe," Chad attempted to soothe him.
"Those assholes. They ruined my painting."
Chad shot him a look. "You're more angry at them for busting your painting than busting your head?"
Sam frowned at him, but didn't comment. "Where are you taking me?"
"My house," was Chad's answer.
They were silent for the rest of the drive. Sam didn't know much about Chad, but one thing he knew was that he wasn't much of a talker. In fact, this conversation was the most they'd ever said to one another, and they had been going to school together since kindergarten.
Chad pulled into the driveway of a nice two-story colonial house. He got out and opened the passenger side door.
"Are you feeling dizzy?" He asked.
"You don't need to carry me again. Just give me a hand. Please."
Sam was grateful when Chad offered him a hand. He stumbled a little as he got out of the truck, but Chad steadied him and helped him through the front door and into the bathroom. Chad flipped down the toilet seat cover and lowered Sam to it. He was examining Sam's face.
"Gonna get some ice. Your face is swelling," Chad mumbled before leaving the room.
Sam slumped. His face did hurt, and his ribs. He could breathe easily so he didn't think anything was broken. He knew he was going to be super sore. He didn't even want to look at his face. He could feel the blood on his forehead and knew his lip was split.
Chad returned with an icepack. "Hold that on your eye." He rummaged through a cabinet over the sink and pulled out some peroxide, cotton balls, bandaids and Neosporin. He began to clean the wound on Sam's forehead. His mouth was pursed in concentration and his hands were gentle as he cleaned away the blood and dirt. He treated it and bandaged it up. Then he moved to touch Sam's mouth. Sam instinctively jerked away from the contact.
Chad met his eyes. "Did you want me to clean this too?"
Sam nodded and let him, slow movement over his mouth.
"Any teeth feel loose?" Chad questioned softly as he cleaned Sam's mouth and chin.
Sam shook his head.
Chad pulled away when he was finished with his face.
"I need to lie down," Sam told him. He felt tired and just wanted to sleep.
"Alright." Chad led him out of the bathroom and down a hallway.
"Where are we going?" He had assumed Chad was going to take him home.
"My room. You could have a concussion. You can take a nap, but I'm waking you up in an hour." Chad helped him onto the bed.
It was soft and the blankets felt warm. It smelled good too. Sam snuggled into the sheets.
"Do you need me to call anyone?" Chad asked him.
"Cell phone's in my bag. Call home," Sam muttered before he fell asleep.
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Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!