Short Gay Stories

The Typical High School Senior

"Jesus Christ," I seethe as I step out of my house and see that it's raining. I've really got to start getting in the habit of checking the weather before getting dressed. I quickly run down the driveway in my shorts and cropped hoodie and hop into my car, silently praying that it starts quickly today. The old, slightly beat-up Hyundai had been passed from my mother to my sister, then to me. Mom begs just about every day to let her get me a new one, but I don't want her to worry about something like that. As long as it can get me where I need to go then I'll be fine.

I curse as my car refuses to start, leaving me stuck at home, twenty minutes away from school with an exam waiting for me in my first class. I wrack my brain for ideas that could get me there on time. Being late today could literally ruin my life. Mr. Yares – the snake – would no doubt make me stay after school to take it, which would make me miss auditions for the musical, and I CAN NOT miss auditions. I'd be devastated! I've been in every mainstage production since my freshman year, and I even managed a supporting role last year. This is my year to be cast as a lead! I start forming my mouth to scream in desperation when I hear a knock on my car window.

"Hey, you need a ride?" The voice is muffled through the glass. I turn to see my saving grace and resist the instinctive urge to punch through the door and throw on a smile.

"That'd really be great," I say as I open the door, coming face to face with my mortal enemy, Caspar Anderson. He'd been ruining my life since the day he moved in across the street, on my tenth birthday no less. His mom brought him over to make friends and he started doing fouettés and aerials in my backyard. Completely shifted all of the attention to him. He's always been good at that.

He flashes that stupid winning smile from under his umbrella. "I saw you from across the street and figured I'd offer." That was odd. Caspar always left for school on time which I only know because he always beats me there despite my best efforts.

"You're a lifesaver, truly," I say, settling into my false persona. Despite my contempt for him, I have to be nice to Caspar. Making a public enemy of him would be more trouble than I need. He's much too kind and well-liked so our rivalry, though intense, has had to stay one-sided.

"I can't believe my car decided not to start today of all days," I sigh. I really had some of the worst luck ever.

" Yeah, that's pretty unlucky. Glad I could help though!" He smiles while shielding me with his umbrella. God, he's so sickeningly kind. He continues holding his umbrella over me as I get into the passenger seat and close the door.

We begin the twenty-minute drive down the highway and I realize that I'd never had this much one-on-one time with Caspar. I was very careful to avoid him at every opportunity so I could avoid any situations that ended in me verbally attacking him. I decide to try and make conversation so that he wouldn't think anything was wrong.

"So uh–" he cuts me off before I finish the sentence.

"You don't have to talk to me. I know you don't like me very much." He said it without breaking his concentration on the road or even making a face.

I was completely taken aback. I hadn't given him any reason to think that– as far as I knew. I mean, it was true, but he shouldn't know that.

"What makes you think that?" I ask.

"Well, nothing specific really. But I'm pretty intuitive." His delivery was calm and even. Not typical for talking to someone you're pretty sure hates your guts.

"So you just like, have a feeling?" I'm still completely in shock. Like I didn't think he was stupid or anything, he's my main academic rival as well as in performance, but he always came off as pretty ditzy.

"Basically. Is it justified?" He's still completely focused on the road as he asks the question. His complete honesty and plainness almost compel me to answer him flat out, but I resist the urge.

"Why would you offer me a ride to school if you don't even think I like you? We're not even friends– what do you gain from this?"

"Well just because you hate me doesn't mean that I hate you Astafé." I was malfunctioning at this point.

"I don't hate you!" What was I saying? How could I not hate him, I've always hated him! "I just– I don't know, you make me angry!"

"Why?" He continues to keep his composure despite me yelling in his car.

"You're perfect! You're good at everything! And you're always better than me! Everyone loves you instantly so you've got a million friends and a bright future and you're beautiful an–"

"I'm what?" I hadn't even realized what I'd said until he stopped me.

"I uh– I didn't mean that, I– um" I was completely lost. Where did all of these feelings come from?

"You just called me beautiful. I don't think anyone's called me beautiful before." He was shocked, nowhere near where I was though.

"I did–" I start trying to cover up what I had just said when I processed what he had said. "There's no way that no one's called you beautiful before."

"I mean, they may have thought it, but I've never heard it before. Certainly not from anyone that I like."

"Anyone that you WHAT?"

"Yeah, I've liked you for a while now. You probably would've noticed if you didn't hate me so much." He's almost laughing at this point. I feel like the victim of a vicious prank.

"I said I don't hate you!" I couldn't believe I'd said it a second time.

"I know," he chuckles, "I just wanted to hear you say it again." This guy has to be joking. I mean this is absurd!

"Well, we're about at school now."

"You can't just end the conversation now! We have to talk about this!"

"But you have an exam in first period," I swear internally, how did he even know that? "We can talk before auditions." He parks the car and gets out. I do the same.

"Well," Caspar says as he locks his car, "I'll see you at 3:30."

"Uh– yeah... I guess so," I say as he walks off to class. I was completely flabbergasted. This is the last thing I expected today. I mean further than that even. I couldn't even have conceived of this in my wildest dreams!

"Come on Astafé, pull it together. You can't let this throw you." This was still my day. And I was gonna make it a damn good one.