I never thought I could feel this way. Hell, I used to wonder if I could feel anything at all. I was always so…. scared of the people around me. Never knowing when or how to say the right thing, I decided it was better not to get to close at all. I never meant to get close, but in this case… it was like… I had no choice. And though admitting fear is hard for me, the way being thrown into a pit of spiders would be hard for someone arachnid-phobic, what I’m really afraid of now is…. Him. There’s something terrifying about the way he smiles, the way that when he so much as tries to hold my hand it panics me. The way that even just remembering a brush of his skin makes my heart jump into my throat. As if I wasn’t messed up enough, I fell in love with a guy. I’m wasn’t gay. I can’t be gay. I’m not gay. I refuse to be gay. So how on earth do I make us work?

'There. It's done. I can walk away with my pride and the knowledge that after sixteen long years, I've finally gotten laid. (It's a pretty awesome feeling.) Before I go, though, I have to check and make sure that it's Pamela. Because let's face it: A guy has to know who he lost his V-card to. And just assuming that it was Pam isn't going to cut it. So I put the note and pen down and slowly, carefully, creep over to the ball of sheets. I was right to check. There's a tuft of white blonde hair sticking out from the top. Pamela's hair is auburn. The girl's hair is sort of short, I guess, but oh well. I slowly, carefully, lift a sheet, just to catch a glimpse of the person beneath... ...to see a guy. Looking at me calmly.'