My name is Ross Hunter and this is my first short story.

I'm 31 years old and live with my lover of four years in our wonderful
house in Sydney, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia in Canada. I work as Food and
Beverage Manager for a Hotel Chain here but have always had an interest
in writing.

So this is my first try. I would love to hear any response.

Sincerely,
Ross Hunter

rhunter@istar.ca

I knew going back was going to be tough. No doubt about that, going home after ten years to teach in the same school where it all began was going to open some pretty deep wounds. It had taken all of these years to heal and within the first five minutes of teaching my new grade five class the wounds were about to be ripped wide open again.

I had pretty much slipped into town without too many people taking notice. My parents were dead now so there would be no big reunions and having left almost no friends behind there really was no one to announce my arrival. Maybe everyone else had forced the memories out of their heads. I had always tried but never managed to be very successful.

I stood there at the front of my class giving taking attendance going through one by one as they raised their little hands in response to their names. Going down the list I recognized a lot of the names, their parents were the kids I had attended these same classes with. All the way through school until grade twelve when they would all graduate with the exception of three of us. Instead of diplomas we would be trying to pick up the pieces of our young shattered lives.

Shawn Abbot, Andrea Acton, Charlotte Beaton, ...Kyle Black ... and soit would start. Memories and visions I thought were finally buried came crashing back so fast I had to sit down... Kyle... I had no idea she would name him that, but of course it made perfect sense. To name a child after his father what could be more natural.

My vision swam for a minute and I heard my voice asking Young Kyle to please stand so I could see him. Dark curly hair and deep set blue eyes that looked mildly confused at being the only child in the class asked to stand during attendance. How well I knew this look. His father had learned to use that same expression into the most endearing fashion that almost no one could turn away from him. Without even realizing it he could charm anyone into anything. He could make you feel better about yourself just because he took the time to talk to you. One flash of that sweet lopsided smile and you felt special.

"The Charmer" that's what we called him in High School, but he didn't get it. The only person who didn't know Kyle was special was Kyle.

We weren't friends in elementary school. Kyle and I came from two different worlds. I was the poor kid from a shack in slumville and their house a big white building with pillars that stood at the top of the hill overlooking the best part of town. Kyle's father was a dentist, mine was an alcoholic who I don't ever remember having a job. My mother cleaned houses to pay the bills.

Needless to say school for us was again very different. Kids being cruel like we all know they can be, I was picked on from day one. I had a really high voice and one-day our teacher was handing out papers and made a mistake and pronouncing my name. He called me Arleen instead of Arlen and it stuck. Tie all this in with the fact that I was very mild mannered kid and I got everything from sissy to fruit from grade one through six.

Kyle on the other hand was the magnet that drew all the other kids in. He was the most popular and every ones favorite from the kids right on up to the teachers and parents. I envied him and he didn't know I existed.
Junior High brought some changes for all of us. I had gone away for the summer and thankfully I came back with a new much deeper voice. My body filled out from working on my uncle's farm for the summer so I wasn't the scrawny kid everyone had beat up over the past six years. My blond hair had gone lighter and framed, if my mother could be believed, her handsome little James Dean.

Kyle too had changed, as if just to prove the point that perfection can be improved upon. His curly ebony hair had straightened out and was now a wavy mane that brought out his glistening blue eyes even more. His face had matured into that of a young man with cleft chin and deep dimples that made his crooked smile even more enduring.

Finally I would find acceptance from my peers and although once in awhile I would still hear some one calling Arrrlleeeenn from some where behind me. No one dared say it to my face.

Kyle and I knew of each other now and although we still traveled in very different circles, my looks had made me more acceptable to the masses. Being a straight A student didn't hurt either. On this little front I had Kyle Black beat by a mile.

And so this is what would bring us together. In order to earn extra money to help out at home with the bills, I started tutoring other students for five bucks an hour. One of these turned out to be Cally Jessum, a sweet young girl with long chestnut hair and pearly green eyes that shone like a cat. She was also Kyle's girlfriend. The poor thing was bright but could not grasp the simplest math application, so when I tutored her to a B+ on her final in grade 11 she was wonderful at singing my praises to the entire school.

I soon had more students than I could handle and more money than I ever imagined. Suddenly I was borderline popular. Words like Faggot were no longer used in reference to my name instead it was genius and wizard. Popular indeed, and although it was a long time coming and high school was all but over, it felt damn good.

Two months into our twelfth year Kyle paid me a visit. We had seen quite a lot of each other over the past couple of years but we never really had a friendship. There seemed to be something uncomfortable between us when we met at school or at a party. I was never quite sure what it was but I knew he felt it.

Whether it was my being so envious of him for so long or he was being cautious because of all the years I had been the sissy outcast, I wasn't sure. So one day he marched up to me in front of the school and asked if I would give him some help in English. It seemed he was doing so poorly that if he didn't have an almost immediate improvement he wouldn't graduate. Man I wanted to say no, he made me so uncomfortable I could almost not bear to have his eyes on me. All it took was that slanted little grin and I heard myself saying where and when before I could hold back.

As it would turn out no one except myself, Kyle and our teacher knew how badly he was doing so Kyle insisted I tell no one about our sessions. This also meant that we had to find a place to go where no one would discover us. To me it was all feeling a little strange but somehow I was looking forward to every minute of it.

The abandoned train station at the edge of town had been closed up for at least twenty years and was condemned because of structural decay. On occasion we had partied there so we knew the only time anyone went there was on weekend nights, way after midnight, while the rest of the town slept. Since we would be sneaking in after school we didn't see any problem with being found out.

Kyle studied hard; he was stubborn and determined to ace his mid term. We covered all of the bases so we would not miss a step. He caught on well and would probably have done fine in class if he had applied himself like he was doing now. I asked him why he had not tried this hard in class. Now having spent almost every day with him alone in the draughty terminal, we had finally achieved a comfort talking with each other.
"It always just went over my head but you explain it to me in terms I understand.”

I caught myself blushing at the compliment and thanked him.

"No really man you're a excellent teacher ... Cally thinks you're the greatest."

"Really?" I said. "From what I hear Cally thinks your pretty great, too."

The two of us shared a little laugh and after that any awkwardness that had been between us was gone. From that point on we connected, our sessions grew from an hour to four some days, just two guys chatting about anything.

It was a friendship that from what we found out from each other, neither of us had experienced before. Intelligent, thoughtful, shamelessly funny, intense, and deeply personal. We both believed it to be our first step into adulthood, this one-on-one communication between two men that seemed to shadow all other friendships we had.

There were days when we had the most heated arguments about politics or the world around us that one of us would get so mad he would throw something across the room.

Then the next day we would laugh about something silly like Cally breaking wind at the movies or whether or not Mr. Polly, the Math teacher, looked more like a poodle or a sheep dog.

One afternoon Kyle described in detail how wonderful it was to make love to Cally, telling me how he felt when he came and the whimpering noises she made when she came too. I was horrified because I knew what was going to follow.

"So how is it for you Arden?" he asked.

"What do you mean" I said, a little defensive.

"When you're with a girl... How is it"

"I think we better go Kyle I..."

"Come on, man," he cut me off. "I spilled, now it's your turn."

"Kyle, I really don't want to talk about this." With that I started to get up.

"Whoa Buddy," he put his hand on my shoulder and sat me back down on the floor. "You're not getting out of it that easy. Hell, I thought we could talk about anything...come on!" His white teeth showed through his lips as he grinned his evil grin.

"Ok, Ok...I've never done it. Are you happy now?" I spat the words out and felt myself go hot with anger and hurt at being forced into confession.

"What...fuck off man. You've never been laid? Ya Right. What about that little red head at the dance last month? I saw you two making out in her car.”

"Just let it drop Kyle!" I got up and walked to the door. "It's none of your fucking business!" I left as I saw the hurt and surprise register on his face.

In that moment I realized what I had been hiding from myself for so long. The issue of sex was something I had avoided all my teenage years, and quite cleverly I might add. I never put myself in a situation with a girl I couldn't get out of. Then as Kyle pressured me into saying it, I knew it meant much more than just being a virgin. All the accusations throughout my life I now knew were true. I was the faggot they had all said I was. Perhaps even worse than that, I knew I was in love with Kyle Black.

Much to my surprise it was him that came looking for me. I tried all I could do to avoid him but again he was so stubborn. Kyle made an A+ on his English paper and showed up on my doorstep with a bottle of vodka and insisted I go with him to celebrate "our" victory. After much arguing I said yes, mainly because his apology over the fight was so genuine I couldn't refuse.

So on that rainy Friday night we hopped in his car and drove down to the train station and proceeded to get very drunk. It amazed me how easily we fell back into conversation, just like nothing ever happened. It wasn't until the bottle was gone and we were both ossified that the subject came up again.

"Ya know R?" which is what he had taken to calling me instead of Arden.

"I was thinking about you never being with a women."

His words were a little slurred but not badly.

"Come on Kyle, don't start."

"No really man it's ok." He gave me a little wave with his hand to calm down and scooted over across the floor to sit beside me.

"See, I was thinking I know why."

"Really, oh Wise One?" I was too drunk to argue now so I decided to play along. Kyle smiled and put his arm around my shoulder.

"Yup...and you know what?"

"What"

"It's ok...cause I love you too." And he patted my shoulder. I smiled and gave a little chuckle at his joke. Then as I looked him in the face I saw something that excited and scared me to death at the same time...he was serious.

In a more than a little drunken state, Kyle and I made love on the train station floor and as time would come to tell, it would be the beginning of one of the most wonderful experiences of my life. To have love returned from someone that you have worshipped for your entire life is more than gratifying; it's heaven on earth.

Kyle was gone when I woke in the morning and I was terrified that it was over. I knew it was more than realistic that when he came to realizing what he had done he would put it behind him and pray that no one would ever find out. My worrying was for nothing. Kyle showed up at my house that next night to tell me that he had never felt this way before. That for the first time in his life he felt real.

So in the safety of my bedroom with my parents gone for the evening we again explored each other's bodies with a new clarity. Partly because we were sober and also because it was a soft bed the lovemaking was so much more intense. For hours afterwards we lay there in each other's arms talking of our feelings for each other and how we would never let this end.

For the rest of senior year Kyle and I were inseparable and not without raising an eyebrow or two. Cally was especially surprised. Kyle explained that we had become friends while I was tutoring him and because he had done so well she accepted it without questioning further.

My biggest concern was that Kyle had continued the relationship with her even though we were so much in love. Kyle felt that it was important if we didn't want people to suspect anything, to which I had to reluctantly agree.

Both of us had been accepted to a college up north and knew that we would be together then without having to worry about anyone. We made sure that when we applied we checked to see that Cally had not. Looking back I can't help but feel how mean it was to use her like that but in youth we have all made mistakes.

So we indeed had the best-laid plans that our love would be complete when we finally left this town and we could share our life as we wished. Unfortunately life didn't share our vision.

It was Friday night, exactly two weeks before graduation when I got the call, it was Kyle and he was frantic.

"Meet me at the station right away!" His voice was shaky and desperate.

"What's wrong buddy?"

"Right away R...I can't talk now."

"Ok I'll-" But he was gone.

When I got there it was complete darkness. Usually we had candles that we lit when we went there at night. That night it held a strange intensity. I could faintly make out Kyle in the corner holding himself in a ball.

"She's pregnant." Said his voice, flat and lifeless.

"Who's pregnant?" I didn't grasp it.

"Cally, she's fucking knocked up!"

"Oh fuck." I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"It's all over R. My life ... our life ... it's all gone." He talked in a cracked soulless tone that was even sadder because it was Kyle.

"No...Kyle it doesn't have to be..."

"You don't understand!" He was yelling now. "I'm going to have to marry her ... You know what my family's like...it's FUCKING OVER!"

"We can figure this out ...there has to be a way." I pleaded with him and with myself knowing he was right. Rising to his feet he walked to me and took my face in his cold hands and placed his forehead on mine.
"Goodbye R...I love you."

I could see the tears streaming down his face from eyes that were a different shade of blue than any I had seen before. Softly, he kissed my mouth and left.

Two in the morning that same night the phone rang again and at first I was hopeful that it was Kyle saying he had worked it all out. Cally's voice on the other end was such a shock I couldn't understand what she was saying. At first I thought she had found out about us and that's why she was crying and yelling. It wasn't until I heard her say body that I understood and hung up the phone.

They found him naked on the bathroom floor with both his forearms split up to the elbows. The kitchen knife beside him on the bloody floor and a bottle of vodka half empty beside it. He didn't leave a note but everyone surmised that it was the pressure of finding out about the pregnancy. A fact that sent Cally to the hospital with a near miscarriage. She felt solely responsible.

The loss for me was so devastatingly painful I considered suicide myself but knew I wouldn't do it. I loved him so much I couldn't let go of the memories I had of him. In the end it would be those that got me through it.

The day of the funeral I got a letter in the mail. It was from Kyle and simply said: “I'm sorry.” Tucked in the envelope was his graduation ring that he had never gotten the chance to wear. I put it on a chain around my neck and have never taken it off.

Seeing him that day all laid out I couldn't help thinking how beautiful he looked in the deep blue satin of the casket. His dark hair feathered against the pillow, he looked positively angelic. It wasn't until they lowered the lid that I felt the total loss of his love. How I would miss him.

Now, here, ten years later I was looking at that same charismatic little boy with his fathers bluer than blue eyes and crooked smile and missed him all over again. Someday maybe I'll send him the ring that his father sent me.

Maybe, but for now I'm wasn’t quite ready to let go...again.

"Kyle son, you can sit down now, we'll continue with the attendance. Jason Blanchard, Taylor Clark..."

Previous Love Stories:

• 1+1 = 1

• Summer

• The One

• Quality Time

• Valenitine's B Word