Andy
Andy, I couldn’t believe it. Andy, no one would have guessed him for a fag.
He was my best friend! How could he be a fag? He was the star quarter back of
the damn Roosevelt high, Bears. He did all the cheerleaders, Man, have I herd
a lot of stories about him... all of which included girls! I’d always they’d
pick me out as a queer. I mean I’m a kicker, and not a good one at that, I
haven’t had a girlfriend, since freshman year and even then she was a dog. But
not Andy he was a stud. You know what that jerk did? He interrupts me watching
the bulls, they were right on a penalty shot and Rodman was gonna shoot when I
hear
“Chris? Chris I have to tell you something”
“Yea , sure, whatever”
“Chris, oh god this is hard” he whispers
“What, say it, I’m trying to watch the game, this shot could get them in to
overtime”
“Chris...”
“Yes, that’s my name”
“... I’m gay”
I look at him w/ a look of shock on my face “ What the hell are you tying to
pull interrupting my game for a joke, what are you high?”
“Its not a joke.”
“Ha, Ha, Funny, Funny... Look the bulls just lost”
“No really” he grabs my arm “this isn’t a joke”
“What the hell... you mean to tell me...” I was pissed, he wasn’t kidding, he
was a queer bait.
“I know, its a shock” he looked at me w/ his open understanding eyes, I think
he was trying to make me feel better but how could I feel any better?
“How could you be a fag? Your the star quarter back!”
“It could happen.”
“Well then how could you explain all those stores?”
“you mean to tell me, you, my best friend, believed in all those rumors?”
“Well it s better than hearing about what you are now” right then his face
turned red, he stood up and faced me.
“Your supposed to be my best friend! Your supposed to understand!”
“Well, your supposed to be straight. Aren’t well all full of surprises?”
“I don’t need this crap,” He grabs his letter jacket, His perfect letter
jacket, with all of his perfect pins and letters, from every perfect sport he
ever played. “I have enough to worry about” he mutters “How am I gonna tell my
father”
“I don’t care, no one cares about you fudge packers” I said as he slammed
the door.
Man, I was dumb. I shouldn’t have said that, I shouldn’t have let him leave,
because the next thing I know I’m getting a horrible call from his mother.
Andy drove his perfect car off Crimson bluff. How could that jerk do that to
me! He was my best friend and he took his own live. He had no right! I
shouldn’t have yelled. I shouldn’t have let him leave. I should have grabbed
his jacket and ran. He would have caught me and beaten me to a pulp. But at
least he would have stayed. Whenever me and him fight, he usually wins but he
always picks me up and fixes my wounds. Oh god, What have I done...
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