18

Chapter One: Sloth

The day is some day in fall, the year I am fourteen. I slide into my mother's car with my brother, and we head to our dance class. Now, I know what you are thinking. But, you know, guys can dance, too. We like to do it, so we do. But that's beside the point. We did it because we had lots of friends there, and it gave us something to do after school. We ride the long car ride to the Dance School we go to, and once we arrive, we rush indoors. Why the rush? It's pouring out. We didn't want to stay wet. Anyways, we ascend the staircase, and reach the top. Nobody is there, as usual. I sit down, and then lay down. I don't feel like doing anything. I just found out that I like guys, and so far, I haven't had any luck in finding one. I think I may just give up and force myself to like girls again. But, that sounds like too much work. I sigh, and so does my mom.

"Rusty, hun. You can't be so tired all the time. It's obviously not good for your health. Sit up, please." She says, and I do as she asks. I sigh again, and slowly put on my dance shoes. I look at the one-way mirror, into the dance studio. I sigh again, and then enter, as the teacher comes.

After I dance, I come out more tired than usual. My mom sighs, and she thinks of something to do on the spot.

"Want to go out for some ice-cream, you guys? You worked really hard today!" She says, standing up.

"No thanks. I don't want to do anything..." I say, and I start down the stairs, and towards the car. The rain stopped, so I don't have to worry. My mom sighs, still upstairs with the teacher and my brother, Jordan.

"I don't know what to do with that boy..." My mom says out loud.

"What is wrong with him? He did fine in class, but he seemed really tired. He kept talking about how he didn't want to do anything today. Do you think he's depressed?" The teacher, Larry, said.

"I don't know. I mean, he just came out to me about his sexuality, so it could be anything." She replied, looking at her hands.

"I know what it is..." Jordan said, sliding his ballet slippers into his dance bag.

"Really?! What is it?" My mom says, walking over to Jordan. Jordan is two years older than I am, but we share the same room. We may not always get along, but we tell each other everything.

"He wants someone," Jordan shared with the two adults.

"But he has you, Larry and I! Isn't that enough?" My mom asked, running her hand through her blonde hair.

"Not like that, Donna. I understand how Rusty is feeling. Maybe he'll be alright, but there is a high percent chance that he may remain in a lethargic state. This kind of sloth isn't good for him..." Larry said. He stood up straight, and looked at the clock on the wall. "Now, if you don't mind me, I have to go, or else I'll be late for the modern class I have to teach. Good bye, and good luck."

"Thanks..." My mom sighed, slipping the words out like a hiss. She then motions for Jordan to follow her out of the studio. They both enter the car, and I am already fast asleep. My mom sighs again, and revs up the car. We pull out of the studio, and drive home.

Once my mom pulls in the driveway, I immediately wake up, opening the door and walking inside. I walk straight to my room, backpack in hand. I open it, and scribble my homework until it's complete. Then I doze off, without eating dinner.

* * *

The next day at dance class, I walk up the stairs, expecting to see empty benches. But instead, I see a boy and his mother. The boy looks about my age, if not older. I look at him, and stop on the stairs. Our eyes meet, and time freezes. I can feel the heat rushing to my face. I rush back down the stairs, and into the car. My mom seems confused, and follows me.