The truth is when I was 13 I should have known I was gay, but denial has always been my greatest defense. Why 13? Well, apart from the obvious beginning of puberty there was plenty. I'd never kissed a girl, nor had any real desire to, despite the fact that I'd been in Summer Love with the same girl for three years in a row. I was in band originally, but added choir onto my list of extracurriculars after a year. Hell, the first erection I ever had was from wearing a thong. I had no idea what my body was doing at the time, I just knew that it felt good. It was because of this that I thought I was just a transsexual for the longest time. I figured I was supposed to be a girl because that was somehow a lot easier than just being gay. But, if you take a girly-boy and send him to a month-long Fine Arts camp, things are bound to come out.
It was a state-sponsored program that accepted kids based on their talents, not who could afford to go. My English teacher suggested I apply with an essay, and a month later I was accepted. It started in July, so I spent as much of June as I could with my sister Kei and my summer girlfriend, Angeleena. We'd originally met when we all went to the same day care two years ago, but now we just spent most days at one of our houses. The night before I left we all spent the night at Angeleena's house. Her mom seemed to worry that me and Ange would lock ourselves in her room, but for the most part we were happy with holding hands, love letters, and making fun of unattractive strangers together. Once the girls had decided that we were having a slumber party, they decided to "torture" me with makeup, nail polish, hair products, and tweezers. I let them. The next morning I washed everything off, but decided to keep my toes red. I claimed I didn't know how to take nail polish off, and so the girls squealed and ran to hide the acetone. I feebly tried to stop them, but later claimed it was so I'd be marked as Angeleena's. This way, no other girls would try anything. They were happy and I was going to camp with cute toenails and perfect eyebrows.
The camp, AEGIS, which may have stood for Arts & Enlightenment for Gifted and Intelligent Students but don't hold me to it, was like heaven for a fine arts whore growing up in a Christian college town in Arkansas. We were divided into four groups; Art, Dance, Music and Theatre. Although I had no experience on stage and had two years of band and a year of choir under my belt, I somehow talked my way into the Theatre department, along with one other boy, Jonathan. Jonathan was 18, taller than me, black and openly gay. I'd met plenty of gay men thanks to my mom, but he was easily the youngest one so far. And he was cute. Milky brown skin, slender frame, almost a girl if it weren't for his shaved head. He had little black glasses when I first met him, but later found out he only wore them if he didn't feel like bothering with his contact lenses, which was really a shame, for me anyway.
Being the only two guys in a class of 30 girls, we tended to hang out a lot. When we first met he asked me if I was gay, but I said no and for some reason offered my toes as proof that I had a girlfriend. Now, on top of being the only "straight" boy I was also the youngest and the shortest. A baby in the eyes of the Seniors who took up most of the population. This suited me just fine as I'd never had any older brothers or sisters and it was nice to be taken care of for a change. The camp itself was at a college campus, and because we were there for so long it ended up becoming like mini-college. We'd all go grocery shopping together, hang out in our dorms, loaf around the middle of the quad or just sit in the student union and gab between classes. I felt even cooler because I was so young and hanging out with all these older kids who were actually intelligent and interesting, a big change from my home town.
It was two days before the end of camp and my mom had called to say that her and Kei would be there on Sunday for our big show and to take me back to Dallas. She also mentioned that my dad was supposed to see me on Saturday, the official parents' day when we actually show them around, as opposed to the Sundays before when our parents were allowed to take us out for a few hours if they wanted. On this particular Saturday I was already feeling a little deflated. Yesterday we had all gone to see an opera in Little Rock, followed by a trip to the mall and dinner at a restaurant. For some foolish reason or another, I had decided that not only was I in love with my classmate Rebecka, I was going to spend all day with her and make her fall in love with me. This turned out to be a pretty common practice of mine to win girls, and it worked--sometimes. Rebecka was 16 and she let me down very easily, being the sweet girl that she was, but I was still pretty upset about it. This was all going through my head as I waited in the common room for my dad to show up.
Other parents showed up and were ushered out by their children. The room had been full of people laughing and talking and telling stories two hours ago, but now the room was empty and silent. I knew that my dad wasn't coming, but I couldn't move off the couch I had planted myself on. All I could think about was being rejected by everyone, feeling unwanted and uncared for, an inconvenience that just couldn't be bothered with and eventually I started to cry. Not a lot, just a couple of drops before I could stop myself. It must have been enough to show though, because the next thing I knew Jonathan was sitting next to me rubbing my back and asking, "What's wrong?"
"Oh, it's nothing," I said as I tried to hide the evidence that said otherwise, "It's just--" And in that instant I decided that if anyone would understand what I was feeling, it would be him. "It's just that my dad was supposed to come see me today and he hasn't. He does this all the time."
Jonathan didn't say anything, so I kept going, "I know it's because he wanted a son on the football team or something like that, but I can't help that I can't catch or throw to save my life. I just do what I'm good at, you know?"
Jonathan laughed and moved in a little closer as he continued to stroke my back, "I know exactly what you mean! My dad thought I was going to play basketball. He took me to games and workshops and training camps and everything else so we could 'work on my game.' Finally one day I just told my dad I didn't want to do it anymore."
"What did he do?" The fear in my voice must have made me sound like such a kid, but Jonathan didn't laugh, he just stretched his arm across my shoulders and relaxed.
"He didn't do anything. That was it."
I was a little surprised to find his arm around me, but he was pretty touchy-feely anyway and I'd just got caught crying. Besides, it really didn't bother me, it was actually pretty comforting.
"It's just--I don't know what I'm doing wrong! I go to church, I get good grades, I play in the same marching band he did and none of it's enough! He doesn't bother taking an interest in anything I do and I doubt he'd even know my name if my step-mom didn't remind him!"
I was starting to get emotional again and could feel the hot sting behind my eyes, but I didn't cry this time. Instead I turned and caught eyes with Jonathan who was looking right back. I closed my eyes to keep the tears back and he leaned forward and kissed me. It was a quick kiss, a test, and I had apparently passed.
"Listen," he said in a soft voice, "Me and some of the girls are having a little party tonight. How about you come with and you can blow off some steam?" I was still dumbfounded by the kiss. It was so fast I wasn't sure what it meant.
"Sure," I said in my most nervous 13-year-old voice, "that sounds like a lot of fun."
Jonathan gave me a little squeeze on the shoulder as he stood up, "Screw your dad, man. He doesn't know who he's missing out on. I'll pick you up tonight, okay?"
"Sure," I said again, wishing I could think of something cooler to say, "Thanks for cheering me up."
"No problem, Big D. Now go on and get out of here. It's too depressing to sit in a big empty room by yourself." And with that he was out the door, and I was even more confused than when I started.
When I look back at that night, I like to think of it as My Complete Loss of Innocence. I pushed the kiss out of my mind for the rest of the day, but spent two hours getting ready for Jonathan anyway. I wore my black combat boots under my best looking pair of jeans and paired it with a white tank top under an unbuttoned black dress shirt. It was the beginning of a look I would adopt all through high school and it was almost flattering, I just hadn't learned how to find proper fitting clothes. But, when Jonathan met me at my dorm at 8, the first thing he said was, "Aw, you look cute!" This wasn't really anything new; Jonathan told all of us when we were looking good, but this time I actually agreed with him. We didn't say much on the way up to the fourth floor, one of the girls' wings and Jonathan's unofficial home. Officially, Jonathan shared a dorm with another boy three doors down from mine. Boys were also officially forbidden from the third of fourth floor, but we'd heard from Jonathan's roommate that he almost never came home because he was always spending the night with the girls. There was always a counselor at the stairwell waiting to catch the curious, so we could never figure out how he did it.
As we approached the fourth floor I realized that I was about to become privy to the secret the boys had all agonized over. Was it a secret passage, a disguise, bribery, what? We walked through the door and looked around for the counselor on duty. It was one of the male Art counselors, I forget his name, but he'd always had a real chip on his shoulder toward me before. But tonight me and Jonathan just walked right past him, he even gave us a nod as we passed! I was so baffled by it that as soon as we were out of earshot I blurted out, "What was that all about? I thought we couldn't come up here?" He laughed and put his hand around my waist as we walked, "Well, Theatre boys don't count. I suppose Dance boys wouldn't either if we had any." There was no denying what was going on anymore. There was plenty of time to back off, say something, get out of this and just run away. But I couldn't. I was just too damn intrigued and curious for my own good.
We arrived at the girls' communal bathroom, an indignity that the boys were blessfully spared due to our sparce numbers. I thought Jonathan needed to use the facilities before we went to the party, but he knocked on the door and said, "Girls, it's us!"
I heard a click on the lock, then Jonathan pushed me through and quickly followed, locking the door behind us again. It certainly wasn't what I'd expected! The girls had covered the cold tiles in front of the three free-standing shower stations with blankets and pillows. Looking around I saw most of the girls were in PJs of some kind or another, even if it was on the closer side of lingerie. I knew that technically I had just walked into one of every boy's fantasies, but frankly I just felt overdressed. I told myself I wasn't staring because I had been raised to be polite and respect women, but everyone else seemed to know otherwise.
Rachel, one of my favorite big sisters, was the girl who had answered the door.
"Come on in you two! Take your shoes off and get comfortable." My boots clunked next to Jonathan's Converse sneakers. Then, perhaps fixing my overdressed issue, Jonathan came behind me and pulled my dress shirt off, leaving it with the shoes. The girls cleared a spot for us and we sat down. Rebekka was sitting across from us and already I could feel my cheeks starting to blush. This only grew worse as she said, "Aw, look! You guys are twinkies!" It was true, except his tank top was black. The girls giggled, I blushed, and the girls giggled again. Finally Rachel came over and handed us two plastic cups. She hesitated as she handed me mine, "Dorian, have you ever had alcohol before?" The truth was I had never even contemplated it. Our church didn't even serve real wine. But I knew that I wanted to try it now, and if I said no to Rachel she would mother me. So I just said yes and that was enough for her.
"What is it?" I asked as I sniffed it.
"Vodka and Kool-aid. I've had better, but for smuggled booze it's pretty good," Rachel smacked her lips, satisfied. I gave it a quick gulp and was surprised to find it pretty much tasted like grape Kool-aid. The only difference was a warm sensation as it went down your throat. "Thank you," I said while raising my cup.
"Welcome to the last slumber party girls!" Rachel cheered.
Maybe it was just the alcohol, but I started to loosen up after my second drink, which was much stronger than the first. Once we'd run dry on conversation and vodka the party turned to Truth or Dare. Jonathan reached into his pocket and pulled out three fat, hand-rolled cigarettes.
"Let's make it a little more interesting. We'll flip a coin for truth or dare. If you do it, you get a hit. Sound good?" Now don't ask me how an innocent little Christian boy from Arkansas instantly knew that we were smoking pot, but I had always wanted to try it. I didn't want to make a fool of myself, so I leaned in to Jonathan's ear and whispered, "I don't want to sound stupid but I've never smoked pot before. How do I do it?" He didn't laugh, he just whispered back, "Be sure to breathe it in. Don't suck it like a straw or the smoke won't get in your lungs and you won't get high. And coughing is okay, it gets you higher."
"Since it's Dorian's first time let's let him go first." Rachel presented the joint to me and flicked her lighter. Jonathan flipped a quarter, "Truth."
Thank God. I never do dares if I can get away with it. One of the girls blurted out, "Have you ever been kissed?" I took a puff on the joint, coughed and hacked for a second and as the smoke escaped I said, "No." The girls giggled, I blushed, and the girls giggled again.
Since a lot of the girls wouldn't play or smoke, the joints went around pretty fast. I didn't really pay attention to any else's truths or dares for awhile until I heard Jonathan's first Truth come up. "When did you know you were gay?" And his response? "When I was 13." But I didn't have much time to react before my toss came up Dare. This time Rachel took command of the floor. "I dare you to kiss Jonathan," the girls squealed with excitement, "If you do you get two hits and I'll even kiss Amber." Well, what's a pressured, stoned, drunk 13-year-old to do? I took the joint in my hand and already everyone was cheering. I took one big puff, coughed it out and took another. "There's no backing out now, Big D! And I want a real kiss or me and Amber are out of the picture." Rachel took the joint away from me and I turned to face Jonathan. "Okay," I said, "but you start." The "Oooos" had already started when I closed my eyes. First I felt him scoot up in front of me, then his arms were around my belt, then I felt myself begin to shake. Jonathan pulled me to him and we were kissing. This was nothing like the peck from this morning; Rachel got exactly what she wanted, a show.
What can I say about my first kiss that hasn't been said hundreds of times already? His breath tasted like grape Kool-aid, I couldn't hear anything for the girls, and I have no idea how long it lasted. In the back of my mind I kept hearing, "This is my first kiss. My first real kiss. My first kiss is with a boy!" But the excitement and the inebriation and the kiss itself drove all my concern away. When we finally did pull apart Rachel and Amber were already making good on their promise, but I honestly wasn't paying too much attention.
Truth or Dare seemed pretty pointless after that, so we just wrapped up in the blankets and finished off the rest of the weed, and for once the voice in the back of my head was silenced and I was having the time of my life. We talked about everything; our families, sex, drugs, more sex, and of course the show tomorrow. It was past midnight when we'd finished the weed and the booze and nearly everyone had settled down for the night on top of blankets, in sleeping bags, and even a few went to their rooms, despite the protests. I myself was trying to figure out the best way to get back downstairs without anyone noticing. The high had been great, but now my head was floating and my stomach uneasy.
"I'm kinda sleepy," I slurred to Jonathan, who had been playing cards with Rachel. For the first time since I'd got there I stood up -- and then immediately sat back down. Rachel started laughing and I couldn't help but laugh with her as Jonathan wrapped my arms around his shoulders and lifted me off the ground.
"Rachel, can I put him in your room?" She tossed him the keys and dealt another hand to Amber as we stumbled out the door.
"How are you feeling?" He looked worried and I probably looked drunk.
"I'm happy," I stumbled and hugged onto him in response.
"Careful, now. We're almost there." He kept one arm around me as he unlocked the dorm. We sat on the nearest bed and I flopped onto my back, looking up at the back of his head.
"Would you mind if I asked you something personal?"
He turned around looking puzzled, but consented, "What do you need to know?"
I was beyond the point of subtlety. The buzz had doubled from all the movement and without inhibition I blurted out, "How do you know if you're gay?"
It was so quiet all I could hear was his breath as it quickened slightly. The only light came from the window outside, which silhouetted his profile in a bright, silver glow. He turned his head slowly and raised an eyebrow at me, "There's not a checklist to go through or anything. I'd say it's pretty easy to tell if you are."
But it wasn't easy to tell. Between the two kisses and the intoxication I couldn't tell what counted and what didn't. I had no idea where either of us were standing.
"I wanted to ask one more thing," I said with a raised eyebrow of my own, "Was I a good kisser?"
This time I didn't wait for him, we just wrapped our arms around each other and went at it. This wasn't a dare or a friendly sign of affection; this was hot, this was dirty, this was forbidden but God did it feel right! We pulled our shirts off and tossed them on the floor, knocking his glasses off in the process. He pushed me back onto the bed as he straddled me. He began kissing my neck and then slowly working his way down. Around the nipples, down the stomach, even further until I heard a zip and then my pants were pulled off and thrown as well. That brought me back to the present.
"Wait!" I pushed him off of me slightly so I could see his eyes, "I think I'm gonna have to keep it above the waist."
Jonathan put his finger to my mouth and shushed, "Don't worry, honey. I wouldn't expect you to lose your virginity the same night as your first kiss." Then he took off his pants and added them to the pile. We started kissing again and I was now very aware of his fully erect penis. And more to the point, mine. The shock was enough to start regaining sobriety, and soon enough I could hear the doubts and thoughts in my mind again, pulling me away.
"What's wrong?" We laid side by side looking at each other in the moonlight.
"Nothing. This has been great, but I don't think I'm gay. Or I don't know." I didn't move or push him away, but it was all so difficult to tell what was going through my head, even without the weed-vodka haze still floating around. I mean, if I get a hard-on from kissing a guy who looks like a girl while I'm trashed, then what does that make me? "I don't want you to go or anything, but I just don't think I'm ready to figure it out yet. I've been going out with this girl and--"
"Hey! It's okay. Sexuality is confusing for everybody. And some of us never figure it out. Besides, it's already 2:30 in the morning, we should probably go to sleep. Okay?"
"Okay."
We fell asleep next to each other in that tiny twin size bed, and when I woke up we were spooning. I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck and my head was killing me. I carefully lifted his arms away and slunk slowly out of the bed. While I looked around for my clothes I noticed that Rachel and Amber had made it into the next bed together. Luckily the girls had gathered all our clothes next to our bed, so I dressed silently and made my way back to my dorm. When I snuck in my roommate was still singing Korean pop music in his sleep and the clock said it was just past 6 in the morning. I set the alarm for 10 and went to sleep in my own bed fully clothed.
Apart from being on stage together, I never talked to him again. On my way out for good I stopped for one last goodbye to everyone. As I gave hugs and promises to keep in touch I noticed Jonathan on the other side of the hall with his mother and younger sister. We caught eyes, but I looked away and pretended not to notice him. When I looked back, I could see sadness in his eyes that said he was disappointed, but a grin on his face that said he understood.
