The Distraction

~Nate~

I think that if I could turn back the days, and put the leaves back on the trees, I would have lived this past fall differently.

~Quinn~

Ive made countless lists of things to change, mistakes I'd undo, but I know one thing I wouldn't change. And he feels the same way.

***

Nate had only realised he was gay the month prior to the start of fall. He had yet to find a way to tell his parents, or anyone that didn't include Quinn West.

"Just tell them, Nate! They're your parents, they'll love you regardless." I spoke with conviction that was hiding the futility I felt.

"Quinn, I just can't! Do you realise how much my dad hates us? The other day, he saw the trailer for Chronicle, and said that they were fags! They're gorgeous, but straight. Can you imagine what he'd do to me?" Nate's long brown hair shot out of his head, bouncing crazily as he shook, speaking with his hands as well as words.

His eyes had been light blue until the spring before, when they'd turned a bluish-grey, laced with gold.

"They're going to hate me." Nate spoke with the tone of a death row inmate. I'd always tried to be positive around Nate for his sake, but he was very right. His I <3 Jesus parents refused to let me stay over at their house after I told them I was bisexual, claiming I was 'a bad influence.'.

Imagine what they were going to think when he came out.

"Oh, honey." I held Nate's huge frame as best as I could, not bothering to try another avenue to convince him. He was right, after all. They were going to hate him for who he loved, and he was going to let them.

"If I could make them less judgemental, or at least not know, I think I could handle it. I can't handle the suspense! They are going to find out eventually." Nate spoke into my shoulder.

"The signs have always been there. And yeah, they are going to notice eventually. Nateey poo," I look up from Nates shoulder, " Why don't you just act really straight around them? You know, fake it until you move out or something?"

Nate sits on his bed, and changed the music on his iPod dock. Another angry song comes on, and reminds me how very angry at the world Nate must be. He thinks for a while, and tries to stand and say a few thngs a straight guy would say.

"I can't fake being straight; I don't know how. Why can't this be eaiser?"

The song begins its chorus, and I think Nate is right.

" C'mon, Nate! Say 'Damn, she's fine'. "

"Damn, she is fine!" He parrots, but it is so false we both laugh.

Granted, Nate usually wouldn't laugh in this sort of situation; I am confused at how this means he is reacting.

He's too gay, but what if he wasn't the centre of attention? He needed cover, so good that his parents wouldn't even question his sexuality until he could live his own life.

"What if you werent the centre of attention?" I speak to Nate with my mischevious voice. Nate knows my lips are pursed without looking up from the dial on the iPod dock.

He stands, sizing up my expression.

"What do you have in mind, my bisexual bunny?"

"A distraction. How good are you at kissing?"