Uncle Barry's house from the story I Ain't Gay!
Copyright 2013 by Heather Rose Brown
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I had originally posted this image in a blog, but then I thought it might be nice to have it in the same place as the story chapters, so I'm also posting it here. :)

I Ain't Gay! Chapter 1
Copyright 2013 by Heather Rose Brown

What do you do when people keep insisting you're gay? Read on and find out!
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I'd been staring at the deep shadows of the Jersey Pine Barrens as they whizzed past my window for nearly half an hour before Uncle Barry paused the CD player and said, "So, you want to tell me what happened?"

I whipped my head around and shouted, "Goddammit!"

"Whoa," he said as he held up a hand. "Sorry I asked."

I clenched my teeth I until my jaws ached. "My parentsh are inshane!"

My uncle blinked a couple of times as he scanned the long, dark road ahead of us, then frowned and said, "Your what are what?"

"Parents!" I answered as I punched the padded armrest between us. "Insane!" I added as I slammed my fist down again.

"Hey, take it easy!"

After letting loose like that, a bit of shame started leaking in when I realized who I'd just dumped on. I stared down at my bare feet and said, "Sorry about that."

I felt him stroke the back of my head as he said, "It's okay, Kitten."

I nearly bawled right there. Kitten was the name he used to call me when I was little. Once I managed to swallow the lump in my throat, I looked up at him and said, "I've missed you."

Uncle Barry glanced at me, giving me a smile that could turn the nastiest storm clouds into a bucket full of rainbows. "I've missed you too, Tanner. I promise, for as long as you're staying with me, there won't be any pressure to say or do anything you don't want to."

"Thanks," I said. "That's something I kinda need right now."

"On the other hand," he said, sounding a little wary, "if there *is* something you want to say or do, just let me know."

Considering how late it had been when I called him, and how he’d agreed to pick me up without complaining or asking awkward questions, I decided I owed him something. After taking a few slow breaths to steady my nerves, I gave him all the gory details.

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I was curled up on the couch between my parents, watching the closing credits scroll, when Dad said, "So, you really liked that movie?"

"Yeah, it was pretty good."

Mom patted my knee and said, "I'm glad to hear that. Ready for another one?"

I'd actually been planning on heading off to bed, but it'd been ages since I was able to be in the same room with them without one of us yelling at the other, so I said, "Yeah, sure."

Mom patted my leg again, then leaned forward a little and gave Dad one of those weird looks parents sometimes give each other before saying, "Can you start the new one up, dear?"

Dad gave us both a smile that looked too intense to be real and said, "Sure," before clicking the remote.

The movie seemed to be mostly about some guy who was trying to hide something. There were parts that were probably supposed to be funny, but I couldn't figure out why. I was having trouble making sense of the plot too, mostly because I kept dozing off every few minutes.

Around the fourth or fifth time I woke up, I said, "I better head off to bed," and started getting up.

My father had a growl in his voice when he said,"You will *not* walk out on this movie," as he grabbed my arm and pulled me back down to the couch.

I frowned at him when I landed and said, "What are you talking about?"

Mom took hold of my other arm and said, "It's disrespectful to walk out on a movie just because it's about homosexual people."

I turned to her and shook my head in confusion. "I don't get it. How's going to bed disrespectful to ..." I looked from one parent to the other as realization slowly found its way into my sleep deprived brain.

"Dammit!" I shouted as I yanked my arms away and shot to my feet. "Is this about the gay thing again?"

"You will *not* use that kind of language in this house," Dad said as he slowly stood up beside me. "And ... yes, this is about you being homosexual."

I closed my eyes, counted to five, then screeched at the top of my voice, "I ... am ... not ... gay!"

"Sweetheart," Mom said as she stood up on my other side, "all the signs are there. Just saying you're not a homosexual doesn't make it so."

I tried calming myself down again, and managed to use a more normal voice as I said, "Signs? What signs?"

"Well," Dad said, "there's the way you walk, talk, and act."

"Okay, I'll bite," I said with what, if I was completely honest, could have been taken as a snarl. "What's wrong with the way I walk, talk, and act?"

My dad took half a step back and said, "There's nothing wrong, in and of itself, but you do tend to come off very ... effeminate."

Before I could think of a good comeback, Mom said, "You also wear girl clothes."

"I do not!"

Mom just looked at me.

I looked down at myself, then looked back up. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

She had just a hint of a smile as she said, "Nothing at all. It's a very nice nightshirt."

"It's not a nightshirt. It's just a shirt ..." I tugged at the hem and added, "a long shirt ... that I wear at night."

Dad patted my shoulder and said, "We're not saying you're doing anything wrong. We just want you to be honest with yourself about your homosexuality."

"Gaaah! I give up! If you both really want me to be gay, I'll just go stay with Uncle Barry and learn all about it from him."

"Hrmmm," Dad said. "That might not be a bad idea."

"I know he's missed you," Mom added.

"You can't talk me out of it!" I said. "I'll stay with him for the whole weekend, or maybe even the rest of the summer and ... and ... just start gaying it up!"

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There was a moment of silence, broken only by a couple of cars passing us on the nearly deserted road.

"I didn't mean it the way it sounds. When I said I was gonna--"

Uncle Barry spluttered and started laughing until tears streamed down his cheeks.

"What's so funny?"

"Gay it up," he wheezed.

Even though, I didn't quite get the joke, his infectious laughter started me giggling.

When we both were able to breathe normally again, Uncle Barry patted my shoulder and said, "I can't make any promises about gaying it up, but I think we're going to get along just fine."

I Ain't Gay! Chapter 2
Copyright 2013 by Heather Rose Brown

In this chapter, Tanner experiences a nightmarish example of his parent's' over-enthusiastic support of his unacknowledged homosexuality before he meets Mel ... who may or may not be the girl of his dreams.
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My nose twitched at all the dust I was kicking up as I walked down a long, unlit hallway. In the distance I noticed a wedge of light under one of the doors. As I got closer to that door, I started hearing short bursts of mechanical sounds.

The whirring noise stopped when I reached the door and knocked on it. I was blinded for a moment by a bright light when the door swung open, and nearly tripped when someone grabbed my hand and pulled me forward.

Once my eyes adjusted, I realized I was in my mom’s sewing room, with Mom standing in front of me. Even though I wasn’t sure exactly why, something seemed weird about the hallway I’d been in and the room I was in now. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“Oh, I’ve been working on a new outfit for you,” Mom said as she held up a huge triangle made of shiny, hot-pink fabric. “Why don’t you try it on so I can see if it fits?”

While I was trying to think of a polite way of telling her there was no way I’d wear such a bizarre outfit, I heard my dad bellow, “There you are!”

I turned around and saw Dad trying to drag an enormous rainbow flag through the door. I ran through half a dozen questions before I finally asked, “What the heck are you doing?”

He looked slightly hurt as he said, “Is that any way of thanking your old man for bringing you a present?”

Even though I felt bad for upsetting him, I still asked, “What am I gonna do with a giant rainbow flag?”

The flag seemed to have caught on something, and he started pulling harder on it. “Well, I thought you could put it in your room," he said as he grunted with effort. "Maybe you could hang it on a wall, or something like that.”

It suddenly came loose and flew through the air ... directly at me. The whole thing thumped into my chest and knocked me flat on my back.

Once my lungs started working again, I tried shouting for help. Unfortunately, there was too much cloth in my face, and all that came out was a muffled grunt.

Pushing back a minor case of claustrophobia, I squirmed around until I was on my hands and knees. I decided to try tunneling under the material in front of me, but that plan was cut short when I smacked my head into something painfully solid.

Going backwards worked better, even though I couldn’t see where I was going. As I crawled along, the air started getting more breathable, and the cloth went from rough and scratchy to soft and fuzzy.

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When I pulled my head out from a pile of covers, I heard a girl say, “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

I found myself in a tiny room, made even tinier by all the junk piled up against the walls. I looked behind me and saw a tall girl near the foot of my bed shoving a large box across the floor. It was at that exact moment I became aware of how my crawling had pulled my shirt up to my ribs. I quickly pulled it down, feeling my face getting warm as I said, “Uhhh ... g’morning. Who are you?”

The girl’s long brown ponytail slipped off her shoulder as she stood up. “I’m Melissa,” she said, then smiled as she added, “but you can call me Mel if you’d like.”

“Nice to meet you, Mel,” I said, feeling proud of how I’d managed to make complete sentences while talking to such a pretty girl. I decided giving talking to girls another try and asked, "What you doing?"

Mel grunted as she lifted one of the smaller boxes. "Just getting supplies for your uncle."

Even though she didn't seem to be having any trouble with the box, my knight-in-shining-armor genes kicked in, and I asked, "Need any help with that?"

"I'm okay," she said, then nodded at a battered wooden crate and added, " but if you could get the tools there, it'd save me a trip."

I pulled my shirt down some more as I stood up and said, "Sure!" Wishing I'd worn pajama bottoms, I carefully crouched down and grabbed the handles. That's when I realized the crate had other ideas about being moved.

"I'm sorry," Mel said, sounding like she was trying to not laugh. "I forgot how heavy that was."

"It's okay," I said as I struggled to stand. "I think I got it."

"You sure? It's really no problem coming back for it."

I shifted my grip to get a better hold, then smiled at her and said, "I'm good. Where's this gotta go?"

"In the studio ... on the other side of the house." She gave me a worried look and asked, "Sure you'll be okay carrying it that far?"

"Oh yeah," I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. "Just lead the way!"

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I was doing pretty good when we walked out to the hallway, but started feeling shaky as we passed through the dining room. By the time we made it to the living room, my arms were about ready to fall off.

At almost the exact moment the crate started slipping out of my fingers, Uncle Barry came through the double doors at the far end of the room and caught my burden before it crushed my toes. As he tucked the crate under an arm, he said, "I cleared the table in the back of the studio and set up something breakfasty." He took the box from Mel with a little more effort, then said, "Why don't you two get something to eat while I get these set up on the main work table?"

Even though the shirt I was wearing covered all the important bits, I still felt half naked around Mel, and was tempted to go back and get changed. That idea was vetoed by my stomach when the scent of strawberries and warm pastries wafted through the doorway Uncle Barry had walked back though.

My stomach gurgled as I followed Mel into the next room, but I was pretty sure it was less to do with hunger and more about having breakfast with her while trying to not come across as a complete idiot.

I Ain't Gay Chapter 3
Copyright 2013 by Heather Rose Brown.

In this chapter, Tanner stumbles into an embarrassing situation, then gets conflicting signals from Mel and his uncle while having breakfast with them.
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As I walked into Uncle Barry's studio, a part of me was aware of the warm sunlight coming through the glass walls and ceiling, as well as the faint scent of green things growing all around me, but most of me was focused on Mel. I was trying to figure out how she made her backside wiggle so much in the tight denim shorts she was wearing when she stopped and turned.

I plowed right into her.

It took me a second to realize what the soft thing my cheek was leaning against as I tried getting my feet back under me. My whole face was on fire by the time I managed to pull away from her.

"I'm so sorry," I said as I stared at the tangled laces of her sneakers; it was the only part of her I had the nerve to look at. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

Mel pressed a couple of fingers under my chin, tilting my head up until I was looking into her sparkling, hazel eyes. "It's okay," she said. "Accidents happen." One side of her mouth curled up as she said in a softer voice, "If you don't mind me saying, I think you've got a cute butt too."

If it weren't for Mel's hand on my chin, I'm pretty sure my jaw would have fallen to the floor. I was used to girls calling me things like scrawny or weird. There'd even been a couple of girls who'd referred to me as faggy. Being called cute, even if it was just my butt, was a new experience.

While I was trying to cope with the idea of a girl thinking some part of me was cute, Uncle Barry came up to us and gave Mel a playful punch in the shoulder as he said, "Hope you haven't been teasing my nephew." He grinned as he added, " At least, not too much."

Mel's hand dropped. She looked between me and Uncle Barry as she said, "Nephew?"

My uncle took a step closer to me, then crouched down until we were shoulder to shoulder. "Sure," he said as he leaned his head against mine. "Can't you see the family resemblance?"

"No," she said as she stared at me. "I mean, yes. I just ..." The confusion in her expression fell away, and her eyes seemed to twinkle as she smiled at me.

Mel glanced away when there was a distant metallic thunk, then turned to Uncle Barry and said, "I mean, I can't wait to have one of your world famous toaster strudels."

Uncle Barry seemed to take the topic change in stride when he stood up, pressed the back of his hand against his forehead, and said, "Oh thweetheart, your flattery of my culinary thkills will be the death of me." Both he and Mel were laughing as they started walking away. My feet refused to move.

The way he had lisped sounded exactly like some of the kids at school when they teased me about being gay. I'd never heard him talk like that before, or act in any other way that gay guys were supposed to act. As I ran to catch up, I wondered if not acting gay was the way real gay people usually acted, and if that meant I wasn't gay because everybody seemed to think I acted like I was.

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I mostly just listened to my uncle and Mel as I nibbled on my sweet, flaky breakfast, enjoying the hot, fruity filling hidden within. Part of my silence was because they were talking about clay prices, glaze quality, kiln temperatures, and other parts of my uncle's business I knew almost nothing about. Mostly it was because I had too many questions to ask my uncle, but they were the kinds of questions I needed to ask him in private.

Every once in a while, I'd notice Mel peeking at me, but she seemed more curious than anything. It was a nice change from the sneers or weirded out looks I usually got from girls.

When we were done eating, Mel offered to clear away the dishes. Once she had left the room, Uncle Barry said, "I think I should warn you, she's only into girls."

I frowned at him as I said, "What you talking about?"

"I saw the way you were looking at her when you first came into the studio, and the way you were trying to not watch her as she walked away just now."

"I was not," I said, feeling guilty about the lie as soon as it came out of my mouth.

Uncle Barry smiled and patted my arm as he said, "Hey, it's okay. You're thirteen now. There's nothing wrong with being interested in her. I just don't want you to be hurt by finding out too late that she's not into guys."

Even though I'd known about my uncle being gay for most of my life, this was the first time I'd known about someone close to my own age. All the questions I'd had earlier began swirling around my head again, then one big question floated above the others.

"How do you know if you're gay?"

"Well," Uncle Barry said as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, "there's an easy answer, and a not so easy answer to that question."

"What's the easy answer?"

"If you're a boy who's attracted to boys, or a girl who's attracted to girls, you're probably homosexual."

"Why do you say, 'probably'?"

"That would lead into the not so easy answer."

I squawked with surprise when I was poked in the ribs from behind, then Mel appeared beside me and said, "What answer you talking about?"

"Oh, nothing much," I said, feeling nice being a fraction of an inch from her, but awkward at the same time. Deciding it might be a good idea to make a quick exit so I could pull myself together, I said, "I ... ummm ... I better go change, or shower, or ... something."

Uncle Barry's nodded and said, "Okay hon." His mouth hung open for moment when he glanced at Mel, then closed when he looked back at me and said, "I'll be busy working on an order this morning, but you're welcome to help when you've changed, or just hang out. Maybe we can talk more afterwards."

My uncle smiled as he ruffled my hair, then strode across the room to a flight of cement steps. When he started going down the stairs, Mel elbowed my arm and said, "Don't take too long, or you'll miss out on all the fun," then gave me a goofy grin before chasing after him.

As I wandered out of the studio, I started thinking about the not so easy answer Uncle Barry mentioned. What else could there be to knowing if you're gay or straight?

After a few seconds, I realized I wasn't awake enough to make sense of the question, and decided to concentrate on something simpler ... like remembering where the bathroom was.

I Ain't Gay! Chapter 4
Copyright 2013 by Heather Rose Brown

In this chapter, Tanner stresses over some of the things his parents had said, then learns about a crush Mel had ... and may still have.
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The steaming hot water pelting my back was helping ease the tension I still felt from the fight I'd had with my parents. The air smelled of tangy apples when I leaned my head back and rinsed the conditioner out of my hair. After stepping out of the shower stall, I started drying myself with one of my uncle's huge, fluffy towels while thinking about some of what my parents had said to me.

The part about me being gay was obviously some weird fixation they had. I liked girls. I'd never even been a little interested in boys. Just because I didn't have a girlfriend didn't make me gay. There were plenty of other guys my age who didn't have a girlfriend.

Of course, there were the other things they said last night, like the way I looked, dressed, and acted. I walked up to the foggy mirror over the sink and wiped at it with my towel until I could see myself. Nothing about my reflection looked efeminine, or whatever it was Dad had called me. All I saw was me.

I shrugged and pulled the towel over my head, then scrubbed at my hair until it was dry. I grinned at myself when I saw the way my tangled hair stood out like some sort of manga character, then found my comb and tried pulling out all the knots without going bald.

I was just about finished straightening out my hair when I realized it had gotten long enough to reach my shoulders. I turned my head from side to side, watching the way the damp strands swayed around my face. Had that been what my parents were getting all bent out of shape about?

As I started to blow-dry my hair, I considered asking Uncle Barry if he could take me someplace to get it cut. That idea lasted about five seconds. As much as I loved my parents, I wasn't going to change something I liked just because they had a bug up their butts.

I turned away from the mirror and looked down at myself. Puberty hadn't been very kind to me yet. I did have a few curlies between my legs, but that was about it. Not that I was in any real rush. Being mistaken for a gorilla wasn't exactly in my top ten list of things to do.

I slipped on my underpants, then pulled my jeans over them, wishing I'd remembered to pack shorts last night. After thinking about it, I decided it was just as well, since I'd already shown off my skinny legs enough at breakfast.

I next pulled on my favorite t-shirt, tugged at the bottom until I could get it to reached the top of my jeans, then took another look at myself in the mirror. The sleeves seemed a little short, but they didn't feel uncomfortable. In fact, the whole shirt was soft and comfy, which was one of the reasons I liked it.

It also had a pattern of white hearts, stars, and flowers over a purple background. Maybe the hearts and flowers were girlish, but you could hardly see the tiny pattern if you squinted at it. Plus, it was purple, not pink. Purple wasn't a girl color, was it?

I shook my head and sighed. I was letting my parents wind me up again, and they weren't even here! I'd gone to stay with my uncle to get away from their craziness. Gritting my teeth, I turned to the door, then swung it open before marching out of the bathroom, determined to leave the questions I'd been asking behind me.

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I noticed a semi-rhythmic thumping as I closed the bathroom door and entered the hallway. Curious, I followed the sound into the studio. Mel was sitting at a table in there, pounding a huge, grey lump into a thick, green cloth.

"Where's Uncle Barry at?" I asked as I walked towards her.

Mel continued pounding as she said, "He's still down in the cellar emptying the kilns. It was hot and a little crowded with us both down there. Plus, I think I was talking his ear off too much, which is probably why he asked me to come back up here and start prepping the clay for the next order."

"What were you talking about?"

Her hand bounced off the clay like a pebble skipping across a pond. She sounded nervous, as if she'd been caught at something, when she looked up at me and said, "Nothing much. Just ... stuff."

Seeing the tension in Mel's hunched shoulders, I decided it might be a good idea to try a different topic. "So, how's beating up a lump of clay prep it?"

"Officially, I'm trying to get any big bubbles out of the clay, " she said as she smiled. "Unofficially, I'm getting out my frustrations."

I climbed onto a stool on the other side of the table and asked, "What you frustrated about?"

Mel frowned and gave the clay a solid punch as she said, "Parents."

Even though it was obvious she was mad, I could see pain in her eyes too. I leaned closer and asked, "What'd your parents do?"

"It ain't just my parents. It's Beth's too."

"What you mean?"

Mel's shoulders drooped as she said, "It's ... complicated."

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling like a jerk when I realized how personal the question I'd asked was. "I didn't mean to be nosy."

"It's okay. When I said it was complicated, I meant me and Beth were sorta ... dating."

She seemed to be watching me for something, but I wasn't sure what she was looking for, so I just nodded and asked, "How long were you dating?"

"Actually, it'd been only one date, and it hadn't really started out as one."

"I see," I said, not really seeing what she meant at all. "So, how'd you wind up having a date that wasn't a date?"

"Well, Beth transferred to my school last year. I fell for her the first day I saw her. I thought she might have liked me too, but I wasn't sure, and didn't have the nerve to ask her. Finally, on the last day of school, I talked her into skipping lunch period and have a little picnic in the girls' locker room with me. I thought we'd be okay because there weren't any gym classes scheduled then."

"Wait a minute. You got in trouble for having lunch in the locker room?"

"That was part of it. The rest was because we got caught by Mrs Brooks ... kissing."

"So, she did like you?"

Mel looked down at the clay. At first I thought she was going to give it another punch, but she just let her hand fall into her lap as she said, "I dunno. When we got sent to the principal, Beth said I made her kiss me."

"You made her kiss you?"

"No!" she shouted, shock plain on her face. "I'd never do anything like that."

"I'm sorry, I said, feeling guilty. "I didn't mean that to come out the way it sounded. So, she told a bald faced lie to your principal?"

Mel looked a little mollified as she nodded and said, "Yeah. Fortunately, Ms Jenkins wasn't really mad at us for kissing, but she did give us a long speech about it. What we did get in trouble for was skipping class, even though it was a lunch period. She called our parents and had them come pick us up and everything."

"Sounds like an awful way to spend your last day at school."

Mel hung her head as she said, "That wasn't the worst part. Me, Beth, and both our parents met up that night to talk about what happened. Me and Beth were mostly quiet as our parents talked. At one point, my dad said I was too young to be getting so serious, then Beth's mom said she didn't want me anywhere near her daughter," her voice cracked as she added, "ever."

Mel fell silent. I couldn't see her face, but I could hear her sniffling. Even though I barely knew her, I couldn't just sit there and watch someone hurting that much. The sniffling had stopped when I reached the other side of the table, but there was still sadness in her eyes when she swiveled towards me and looked up. "Sorry for venting like that."

At first, I was seriously tempted to give Mel a hug. She looked like she could use one. I wasn't sure if she'd feel funny about that that, with me being a boy and all, so I played it safe and patted her shoulder as I said, "It's okay. We all need to vent every now and then."

She smiled back at me and said, "I think I like you, Tanner."

I felt a little dazed by her smile as well as her words. "I ... I thought you liked girls."

Her smile grew into a devilish grin. "That don't mean I can't be friends with you."

With the way my family moved all the time so we could be close to my dad's construction work, I was rarely anywhere long enough to make friends. The few friends I did make would drop me pretty quickly when other kids teased them, especially now that I'd been upgraded from just being weird to being gay.

I had a feeling it would be different with Mel as I smiled and said, "I think I'd like that."

I Ain't Gay! Chapter 5
Copyright 2013 by Heather Rose Brown

In this chapter, Tanner reveals a couple of personal issues to his new friend, then Mel asks what could be a life changing question.
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Friends. One of the cutest girls I'd ever met wanted to be friends ... with me.

"Hey," Mel said as she poked me in the chest, "did you hear me?"

"Uh ... no," I said as I tried pulling the huge grin stretched across my face into something resembling a normal smile. "What'd you say?"

My new friend hopped off her stool and pointed at a grey lump of clay half-plastered across a heavy square of cloth. "I said, 'You wanna take a turn getting out your frustration?' "

What I really wanted was to hear more about the girl she'd had a crush on. I felt a teensy bit jealous of Beth, and wondering if Mel was still interested in her. On the other hand, I could tell my friend was still hurting from what she'd already told me, so I nodded, letting some of my earlier grin sneak back as I said, "Sure!"

Once I got settled on the stool, I made a tight fist and swung at the clay.

"Not bad," Mel said as she patted my back. "You must have been thinking about something that's got you pretty mad."

"Yeah," I said as I took another swing, "my parents." I pulled back my fist and held it there for a second, then let my arm drop to the table. "They're the reason I'm here."

"Dang," Mel said as she leaned against the table. "They shipped you off to your uncle?"

"No," I said as I shook my head. "I left."

"You ran away?"

I had to think about that. I did storm out of the house, but that was after calling my uncle and packing some clothes. When Uncle Barry arrived, Dad carried my bag out for me, and Mom insisted on giving me a hug before I left.

I shrugged and said, "Not exactly. It was more like they were driving me crazy, and I needed a vacation from them."

My friend nodded as she said, "I can relate. What were they doing?"

"They kept going on about me being gay."

"Oh jeez. I'm so sorry to hear that. It seriously sucks when parents can't accept their kids are gay."

"Actually, I have the opposite problem." Mel gave me a confused look, but didn't say anything, so I said, "They keep on pushing me to accept I'm gay, but I've never been interested in guys at all!"

Mel seemed to wrestle with the idea for a couple of seconds before she said "Ah, got it ... I think. You're mad at them because they won't accept you only like girls?"

"I ain't exactly mad. I mean, I was last night, but now I'm mostly just frustrated with them."

"That makes sense," my friend said as she nodded. "Even when my parents have been driving me crazy, it's hard to keep a good mad going more'n a couple days."

She gave the clay a smack and said, "I think Mr Lumpy here could do with getting knocked around some more. Got anybody else you're mad at?"

At first, I drew a blank. Then I thought of the one person who'd gone above and beyond the call of duty to make every moment of my existence a living hell. I drew back my arm and narrowed my eyes at the clay.

"Yeah," I said in a low voice as I let go.

"Holy crap!" Mel shouted as she jumped back. "Who was that you knocked into next week?"

"Stuart Steward," I said, my initial anger giving way to surprise when I saw how far my hand had sunk into the clay.

"Heh, the guy so bad, they named him twice?"

I smiled at the joke as I tried yanking my hand free, then yelped when icy pain shot up my arm.

Mel looked worried when she asked, "What happened?"

"I'm kinda stuck," I said, wondering how many more times today I was going to make myself look like an idiot in front of her.

Just as I was about to try pulling my hand out again, Mel grabbed my forearm and said, "Let me try something," then started peeling the clay away with her other hand. Instead of letting go when my hand was free, she lifted up my arm and started pressing different places on my wrist as she said, "Let me know where it hurts."

I winced when I felt a twinge and said, "Right there."

After pressing a couple more places, my friend lowered my arm to the table, then said, "You'll probably be okay, so long as you don't try bowling with that hand, or punch lumps of clay that look like Stuart Steward."

I grimaced worse than when Mel found a sore spot on my wrist. "I really hope he'll leave me alone next year. He came after me like a homing missile last fall, and was on my case practically every day up until school let out for the summer."

Mel sighed as she said, "Some guys can be such jerks. I had something like that happen a couple years ago. It got to a point where I just couldn't take it anymore and told a teacher. She talked to a guidance counselor, who talked to the guy who was harassing me."

"Did that help?"

"Yeah, he left me alone after that. I also found out he'd been acting that way because he thought I was pretty."

I chuckled and said, "I doubt that's why Stuart was going at me all year."

My friend looked at me for a long moment, then said, "Could you stand up for a minute?" When I got to my feet, she guided me by the elbow to a spot a few feet away from the table.

"What you doing?" I asked as she started walking around me.

Instead of answering, Mel just lifted some of the hair on the back of my head. I felt a weird, but nice tingling as the hair fell to my neck. When she faced me again, she said, "I could see him thinking you were pretty. With a few more curves, I think just about any girl would be jealous of you."

"Girl? I ain't a girl."

"Then why do you wear girl clothes?"

"I do not!"

"You do too! I used to have that exact same top."

The burst of anger I'd felt a moment ago faded as I asked, "What's a top?"

Mel opened her mouth as if to answer me, then closed it again and seemed lost in thought. Eventually, she said, "We're friends, right?"

Even though we were yelling a minute ago, I still liked her, so I said, "Yeah, of course."

She nodded and said, "As your friend, will you trust me enough to try something?"

Although I hadn't known her very long, I still had a feeling deep down inside that I could trust her almost completely. Still, there was that almost part, which is why I said, "Yeah, I guess so."

"Good," my friend said as she smiled. "Then come with me to my house."

I Ain't Gay! Chapter 6
Copyright 2013 by Heather Rose Brown

In this chapter Tanner walks with Mel to her house, and then to her room, where she tries to convince new new friend to try something a bit ... different.

=-=-=

I looked for Mel as I locked the front door, and saw how her long-legged walk had already given her a good head start on our trip to her house. I ran to catch up with her, keeping to the cool grass along the driveway because of my bare feet. "Shouldn't we have left a note?" I asked, raising my voice to be heard over the gravel crunching under my friend's sneakers.

Mel shook her head and said, "Nah, I sent Barry a text." I was about to ask her how she'd sent a text between wrapping up the clay and walking out the door, when muffled music started playing. Mel pulled a slim phone with a pink metal casing from her back pocket, then flipped it open Star Trek style. "It's from your uncle," she said as she studied the screen. "Looks like everything's good."

Just before she snapped the phone shut, I saw a message that said, "K U 2 B CRFL". Once I deciphered the textonese, I asked, "What's he want us to be careful of?"

We reached the end of the driveway, and my friend made a sharp left, leading the way along a sandy path. She pointed to her right at a multilane, divided highway and said, "Oh he's probably talking about that. It's quiet right now, but it can get pretty busy. Both he and my mom seem to think I might run out in traffic or something."

Even though I wasn't sure about what Mel had said, it explained the vague message better than anything I could come up with, so I decided to let it drop and ask something more important. "So what's this thing you want me to try?"

My friend slowed down until we were walking side by side, then said, "I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

She had a small, secretive smile as she said, "It'd ruin the surprise."

Feeling a bit frustrated, I said, "Okay. Can you at least tell me why you want me to try it?"

Mel turned to our left. She seemed be searching for something in the pattern of light and shadow that shifted across the thick bed of dry needles on forest floor when the wind whispered through the tall trees. The breeze brought with it the sharp scent of pine resin, which almost hid the sting of tar, burnt rubber, and gas fumes from the road.

Eventually, my friend turned back to me and said, "It's just ... it's like there this huge thing that's right in front of you, but you don't seem to see it because you keep dodging around it."

My heels dug into the gritty sand when I froze in place and said, "This ain't about me being gay, is it?"

Mel turned and walked back to where I'd stopped, then picked up my hands and said, "If there's anybody who knows what it feels like for people to expect you to be interested in boys when you ain't, it's me. Whether you're gay, lesbian, bi, or straight is only something you can know. Not me. Not your parents. Not anybody else. Okay?"

For a moment, I was tempted to ask why she'd included lesbian, then decided to let it go and said, "Okay. So what is it you see me dodging around?"

Mel was quiet as a few cars roared by, then said, "I don't think it' s something I can tell you. It' s more something you need to experience."

"What kind of experience?"

My friend chewed on her bottom lip, then said, "It may feel a little weird, at least at first." She gave my hands a gentle squeeze as she said, "I promise, it won't be anything bad. It might even be something you like. All I ask is that you give it a try."

For a tiny moment, I wondered if the 'something you like' might include kissing, then realized what a silly idea that was. From what my uncle had said, not to mention the story about Beth, I knew Mel was into girls, not guys. Plus, if she'd really wanted to kiss me, she could have done it when we were alone in the studio.

Even though not knowing what it was made me a little anxious, I was even more curious than before, so I gave a short nod and said, "Okay, I'll give it a try."

=-=-=

Except for the distant but recognizable hum of a fridge, Mel's house was silent as we entered. After walking a few steps into my friend's living room, I asked her, "Is anybody else here?"

Mel looked over her shoulder at me and said, "My dad works Saturdays at the packing house during the summer, but my mom's home. Today's laundry day, so she's probably outside hanging stuff up on the clothesline."

"Think she'd be okay with you bringing a stranger in the house?"

Mel rolled her eyes and said, "You ain't a stranger. You're my friend." While I was trying to untangle the logic of her argument, she turned to the stairway by the front door, then took the steps two at a time as she said, "C'mon."

Deciding she wouldn't have brought me over her house if it was a problem, I told myself to stop worrying as I ran after my friend.

=-=-=

After swinging the door shut, I followed Mel to the middle of her bedroom. I'd never been in a girl's room before. It was a lot less frillier than I'd imagined one would be, and it didn't have a spot of pink showing anywhere. "Nice room," I said as I looked around.

My friend seemed a little nervous when she smiled and said, "Thanks. Can you close your eyes for a minute?"

"Ummm ... why?"

"It's just ... it'll ruin the surprise if you see something."

Deciding it couldn't hurt to do what she asked, I said, "Okay," as I closed my eyes.

There was a spark of excitement in Mel's voice as she said, "I'll be right back." I heard wooden scraping and clunking sounds for a few seconds, then she said, "You can look now."

When I opened my eyes, I noticed Mel was holding her hands behind her back, so I asked, "What you got there?"

She took in a breath, then said, "Before I show you, will promise to keep an open mind, and at least try something out?"

"Try what out?"

Instead of answering, she bounced on her toes and said, "Pleeeeease?"

I sighed and nodded as I said, "Okay."

She whipped out her right hand and held up a pair of purple denim shorts as she said, "I thought these would look nice on you."

"Errrm ... ain't they girl shorts?"

"So, you're okay with wearing a girl's top, but not shorts?"

"You never explained what a top was."

"You know," Mel said as she swung the shorts towards my chest. "The clothes covering your top half."

"You mean ... my shirt?"

"Yeah!"

I looked down at myself and said, "Okay, maybe most guy shirts don't have a lot of flowers-"

"-and hearts."

I frowned at the interruption, then said, "Yeah, and stars too. But ..." I thought back to when I'd first seen my shirt at the thrift shop. One of the reasons it had caught my attention was because it looked different from the other shirts in the boy's department. Still, it *had* been in the boy's department ... although it could have wound up there accidently.

"Okay," I said. "Maybe it is a girl's shirt, or top, or whatever. Is that such a big deal?"

"Of course not. And neither are these shorts."

"I guess you're right," I said as I took the shorts from Mel.

Before I could blink, my friend's hand had gone behind her back and was holding something else. It was white. It looked like it was made of cotton. And, despite the lack of lace or anything else frilly, it was unmistakably girlish. "I can't wear those!"

"Why not?"

"They're girl underpants."

"Panties."

"What?"

"They're called panties, and why can't you wear them?"

Even though I was pretty sure there were hundreds of answers, I was having trouble finding any of them until I stumbled across an obvious one. "I'm already wearing underpants."

Mel nodded towards the shorts and said, "Those have a pretty low waist. You don't want your waistband showing, do you?"

"No, but they're still girl underpants."

"Panties."

"Whatever."

"So why's it okay for you to be wearing a girl's top?"

I was starting to feel like I was fighting a losing battle as I said, "I dunno. It's just ... clothes."

My friend waved the panties at me as she said, "So are these."

"But ... " I said as I tried to think of something to say against my own argument. "Okay," I said as I gingerly took the panties with my free hand. "I guess you're right."

Mel grinned as she said, "Of course I am. Now, I just have one more thing for you."

With the way I jumped when she held out her other hand, you would have thought she had thrown a snake in my face. Once I found my voice, I said, "I am *not* wearing that."

"It's just a bra."

"I don't care what you call it. I ain't wearing it."

There was disappointment in her voice as she said, "So, you changed your mind about giving this a try?"

"No, but ... a bra?"

"It's just clothes."

Feeling defeated by my own words again, I accepted the strange contraption my friend held out, then said, "Okay. Like I said, I'll give it a try."

I Ain't Gay! Chapter 7
Copyright 2013 by Heather Rose Brown

In this chapter, Tanner gives Mel's suggestion a try, then discovers a reason he hadn't considered for being afraid of doing so.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

I followed Mel to a doorway on the other side of her bedroom, carrying the clothes she had given me as if they might detonate with the slightest bump.

"You can change in here," she said as she pulled open the door and lead the way into the darkness.

Mel reached up and tugged on something. I squinted at the light for for a moment, then looked around at the cramped space we were in. While examining all the clothes hanging from the rails on either side of me, I noticed something seemed to be missing.

"Ain't you got any dresses?" I asked when I realized what that something was.

My friend grinned as she pointed over my shoulder and said, "Yup, right over there."

I looked behind me and found a total of one dress. The sight of it shoved against the wall by a bunch of sweaters seemed inexplicably sad. I was also a little surprised. Even though I wasn't much of expert on girls' closets, I was sort of expecting more than one lonely dress.

Mel touched my arm and said, "I'll give you some privacy so you can change."

Change. Just the sound of that word made my stomach do cartwheels ... though thumbtacks ... in the rain ... acid rain. I turned back to my friend and said, "I'm not sure if I can go through with this."

"Trust me," she said as she patted my hand. I tried to not think of what I was holding in that hand when she added, "It'll be okay."

Something about the soft way she spoke helped calm some of the panic I'd been feeling. Not sure exactly what to say, I just smiled and nodded.

She smiled back as she started to slip past me. I tried moving out of the way, but we still wound up being rather close. To be more precise, we were chest to chest close. At that moment, I totally forgot everything else and went about completely dying of embarrassment.

"I'm so, so sorry," I said as I tried to back up further against the heavy mass hanging behind me.

Mel's cheeks turned a deep pink as she slid the rest of the way past me. "It's okay," she said, then nearly tripped over her own foot as she moved away from me. "If you need anything, just knock," she added before stepping out and closing the door.

Once I was alone and recovered enough to remember why I was where I was, I looked down at what I was holding. In one hand was a pair of shorts. I could handle shorts. In my other hand were ... other things.

No, they weren't just other things. They were things with names. They were ... panties ... and a bra ... and I was going to wear them.

But why?

Because my friend, someone I trusted, said it was something I needed to do.

Was there any other reason?

No. Well ... maybe. Okay ... yes, although I wasn't sure what that reason was. What I *did* know, or at least suspect, was that I was procrastinating.

After dropping the now fully named clothes, I hooked my thumbs into the top of my jeans, catching the waistband of my underpants at the same time, then pulled them both down to my ankles before kicking them off. My hands started shaking a little as I picked up the panties. I took in a deep breath to steady my nerves, then poked my feet through the leg holes and pulled the panties up over my hips.

They both did and didn't feel as weird as I'd expected. They felt like they were made of the same kind of material as my boy underpants, although a bit lighter. They also felt tighter. Not uncomfortable tight, but not-baggy tight. That last difference caused another difference.

There was a noticeable bulge up front. It wasn't as if there hadn't been anything noticeable before, but it was easier to ignore then with looser underpants. It definitely wasn't easy to ignore now. I was about ready to tell Mel I'd changed my mind when a thought occurred to me.

I lowered the panties a little to give me some room, then tried shifting thing around down there. After some experimenting, I found it looked better when I pulled everything between my legs. It wasn't exactly perfect, but I felt better about the way it looked when I pulled the panties back up.

I looked down at the other two items Mel had given me. Deciding to go for the easier one, I stepped into the shorts and pulled them up my legs. As my friend had predicted, the waist was pretty low, which meant I'd never be able to pull my shirt down to reach it. The shorts also seemed to pull things up between my legs. It didn't hurt, but it did feel a little odd.

I looked down again and saw the last item Mel had given me: the bra. Unlike the shorts and panties, there wasn't anything similar to it that boys wore. Just the same, I was going to wear one ... as soon as I figured out how to wear it.

Deciding it couldn't be too difficult, I peeled off my shirt, then boldy picked up the bra in a firm grip. After discovering bras had little metal things that could hurt if held too tightly, I loosened my grip and examined the item more cautiously.

Although I'd never seen anyone wearing a bra up close and personal, I had seen department store ads, so I did have some idea of what was supposed to go where. After finding a couple of promising looking straps, I slid my arms through them, which brought two triangles of cloth up against my chest.

Only, they weren't cloth. Or at least, not just cloth. They were thicker around the middle parts and thinner near the edges. They also had a little bit of give when I pressed a finger into them. Not being much of a bra man, I wasn't sure if that was normal or not, so I decided to ignore it for now and deal with the straps dangling on my back.

I could not get them to connect. Not for love. Not for money. Not for backstage passes to the band concert of your choice. Finally, frustrated beyond all hope, I opened the closet door and said, "Could you help me with this?"

The last time I'd seen Mel, her cheeks were pink. That color now covered her whole face as she said, "What are you doing?"

Sensing something was wrong, I hesitated for a moment, then said, "I needed help with this. You said I could ask for help, didn't you?"

"But ... but, you're naked."

I looked down at the shorts I was wearing, then looked back up and said, "No I ain't."

At first, it looked like my friend was about to argue, then she shrugged and smiled in a strange way as she said, "Okay. I guess you're right. So, what did you want help with?"

"These things," I said as I reached a hand behind my back.

"Oh sure," Mel said as she walked behind me. "That can be tricky, especially if you've never worn a bra before." I felt her fiddling with something between my shoulders before the band on the bottom of the bra tightened around my ribs.

At that precise moment, there was a knocking at the bedroom door, after which a woman's voice said, "Melissa, are you in there?"

I Ain't Gay! Chapter 8
Copyright 2013 by Heather Rose Brown

In this chapter, Tanner and Mel find themselves in deep, deep trouble.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The bedroom door openened. I felt Mel's breath behind my ear as she whispered, "Oh shit." An older, shorter-haired version of my friend walked in, looked at us, and ... kept looking at us.

Centuries came and went. Polar ice caps grew and shrank. Stars were born, grew old, then exploded into breathtaking clouds of gas and dust. Finally, the woman set down the basket of clothes she was holding, stood up, looked at us again, then said in a slow, controlled voice, "What ... are ... you ... two ... doing?"

Some part of me that had found a moment to not be terrified realized Mel had moved from behind to beside me when she said, "Mom, I can explain."

"Melissa Jane Gilbert! Was it not just three weeks ago your father and I had forbidden you to be alone in the house with another girl?"

"But Mom, I-"

" 'But Mom' nothing!" her mother shouted. I had to lean back to avoid getting my nose clipped when she swung her arm towards me and added, "I found you in here with a half naked girl!"

My brain was running slow, being mostly busy organizing the all out terror. None the less, it eventually started lining up one thought against another, then came to a realization: Mel's mom thought I was a girl. My mouth found out about this and, ignoring all thought of protecting the rest of my body, opened up and said, "I ain't a girl."

The woman turned to me and made a noise somewhere between a cough and a snort that was trying to not sound like a chuckle. There were lines around her eyes that looked like she was about to laugh, but that look soon turned into a frown as she said, "Young lady, if you're going to lie to me, please don't insult my intelligence with something quite so ridiculous."

My brain, still pretty busy, filed that comment for later. Although a little too late, my mouth finally realize what kind of trouble we were in, and wisely stayed closed.

Mel made herself a serious contender for sainthood when she drew her mom's attention off me by saying, "But Mom, we weren't in the house alone. You were here."

The woman glared at her daughter for a second. The glare cooled to a stern look when she said, "That may be, but you did break the rule about having your door closed when another girl was in your room."

Me, my brain, and my mouth, after wading through a flood of fear, bumped into each other at the rescue center of hope, then managed to get coordinated enough for me to say, "Actually, I'd closed the door."

At first, it looked like Mel's mom was going to accuse me of lying again. Instead, she asked, "Are you saying you closed the door without knowing my daughter wasn't allowed to have it closed when another girl was in her room?"

I nodded and said, "Yes ma'am."

"You may call me Mrs Gilbert."

"Sorry Mrs Gilbert."

"It's okay," she said as some of the sternness slipped from her voice. "And what may I call you?"

"Tanner."

I wasn't sure if she didn't realize Tanner was a boy's name or if it was something else, but she didn't show any surprise when she said, "Okay, Tanner. Even though you lied to me once, I'm inclined to believe you're being truthful now."

I almost melted into a puddle of relief as I said, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. I have one more question for you."

Even though I didn't think my nerves could handle another question, I doubted I could get out of answering it, so I said, "What's that?"

"What are you doing with your top off?"

"Well," I said while trying to fight off another bout of panic, "I was in the closet, trying to put on one of Mel's bra's, but I was having trouble with the back, so I came out to ask for help, and then ... well ... you came in."

Mel's mom tilted head, then said, "You don't look old enough to need a bra."

The indignation of being told I wasn't old enough for anything, even if it was a bra, riled me up enough for me to blurt out, "I'm thirteen!"

The last of Mrs Gilbert's sternness melted away, then she smiled at me as she said, "Ah, I see." She turned to her daughter and asked, "Is that why you let her try on your padded bra?"

Mel, looking as shocked and relieved as someone who'd come within inches of being run over by a tractor trailer, slowly nodded as she said, "Uh ... yeah."

My friend's mom sighed as she looked between her daughter and me, then said "Okay, I'm going to take it on faith that this situation is as innocent as the two of you say it is." She turned to her daughter and said, "You're not in trouble, but I think you, me, and your father will need to discuss clarifying the ground rules when he comes home for lunch." She then turned to me and said, "I think it'd be best if I took you home. Where do you live?"

"Well," I said while wondering how I'd explain to my parents why I was being brought home by a stranger, "I live a ways from here. I could just-"

My friend interrupted saying, "Actually, she's staying with Barry for the weekend."

Her Mom looked liked she was running through a list of Barry's in her head before she said, "Oh, you mean your summer job boss next door?"

"Uh huh. He's her uncle."

Mrs Gilbert nodded her head, then turned to me and said, "Go ahead and put your top back on, then I'll walk you back to your uncle's house."

"Okay," I said as I started reaching behind my back. "Lemme just see if I can undo this."

"Wait!" Mel's Mom said as she grabbed my arm. "What are you doing?"

"I'm ... giving back Mel's bra," I said, wondering what all the fuss was about.

"Oh honey, you don't have to give it back now. You can return it later, after you get back to your uncle's and have some place private to change."

I had no idea how I would explain why I was wearing a bra to Uncle Barry. On the other hand, I had just avoided getting skinned alive by Mel's mom. Of the two, I figured I had a better chance with my uncle, so I smiled at Mrs Gilbert and said, "Okay," then wandered back into the closet to find my shirt ... I mean top.

I Ain't Gay! Chapter 9
Copyright 2013 by Heather Rose Brown

In this chapter, Tanner faces some questions, and finds some possible answers, before getting an important phone call.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Except for the growing rumble of traffic and the slap of Mel's flip-flops on my feet, the trip back to Uncle Barry's house was quiet. It wasn't until me and Mrs Gilbert were more than halfway down the path running along the highway that my friend's mom said, "Those barrettes look pretty on you. They go nice with your outfit."

"Thanks," I said, unsure how I should feel about the compliment. After the way she'd yelled at us earlier, I'd been surprised Mrs Gilbert said okay when Mel asked if she could help me with my hair. I'd been even more surprised when my friend slipped a couple of foreign objects in my hair as she brushed it.

I was hoping that'd be the end of the small talk, but that hope popped like a bubble in a broken glass factory when my friend's mom said, "Why did you say you weren't a girl?"

A long string of cars zoomed by, giving me a few seconds to think. That was a good thing, since I had no idea what to say. The only real answer, the most obvious answer, was walking right next to her. I groped for something else to tell her, but still had nothing when the last car chugged past.

The silence that followed demanded *some* sort of response, so I went for an old stand-by and shrugged as I said, "I dunno."

Mel's mom did that one eyebrow thing parents do sometimes. At first, I was worried she was going to insist I give a better answer. Instead, she asked, "Do you like my daughter?"

"Yeah," I said as we walked up to the front door of my uncle's house. "She's a good friend."

My friend's mom gave me an odd look. For a second, I thought she was about to ask another question. Instead, she smiled and said, "I'm glad," as she knocked on the door. "Melissa could use a good friend about now."

Uncle Barry smiled at Mrs Gilbert when he opened the door and said, "Good morning, Anna! What brings you to this side of the woods?"

Mel's mom rested her hand on my shoulder and said, "Your niece was visiting my daughter earlier, and I thought I'd join her on the trip back here."

My uncle turned to me with an unreadable expression, then turned back to Mrs Gilbert. At that point he could have said anything. He could have said he didn't have a niece. He could have said I was his nephew. Instead, he said, "I hope she wasn't causing any trouble."

My friend's mom smiled and said, "Oh, there'd been a mild misunderstanding, but everything's fine now."

"Okay. Will Mel be able to come back later today?"

"Well, her father is coming home for lunch soon, so she'll be busy then, but she should be free later this afternoon."

Uncle Barry took me by the hand and pulled me into the doorway with him as he said, "That'll be perfect. Thank you for walking my niece back, and please let Mel know the plaques fired last night came out fine and are ready for detailing."

Mrs Gilbert nodded, then waved to both of us as she walked away and said, "See you later!"

=-=-=

When the front door closed and I was alone in the living room with my uncle, I said, "I swear, I can explain everything."

He brushed a few strands of hair from my eyes as he said, "Explain what?"

I stared at him, looked down, confirmed nothing had fallen off, then looked back up and said, "Explain what I'm wearing."

My uncle gave me a lopsided grin as he said, "You do look a little more developed than you did at breakfast, but the rest of what you have on doesn't look much different from what you usually wear."

I looked down at myself again and had to agree about the second part of what he had said. The shirt was mine and the shorts, even though they were Mel's, did look like something I'd wear. It took me a second before I realized what he'd meant by the first part.

I clamped my arms across my chest and said, "The bra wasn't my idea."

Uncle Barry's grin faded as he said, "Who's idea was it?"

"Mel's."

My uncle's brows shot up. "She made you wear a bra?"

"Well ... not exactly. I think it started with me talking about a bully, and her saying he liked me, and me saying no way, and then her asking me to try something," I took in a breath and added, "but I ain't sure exactly what it was she wanted me to try, because we kinda got interrupted before I could drag it out of her."

Uncle Barry nodded and said, "Did she say why she wanted you to try it?"

I waded through the memories of the busy and occasionally terrifying morning I'd had until I could scrape together enough to say, "She said something about me dodging something in front of me."

"Hmmmm," he said as he scratched his chin. "I think I know where she was going. Come with me," he said as he started walking away. "I think you need to see something."

My uncle was already turning the corner into the hallway before I could ask him what he wanted me to see, which meant I could either stand there and try to figure out what he was talking about, or run after him. I chose the second option.

=-=-=

I found Uncle Barry's bedroom door open, and when I poked my head in, he waved for me to come closer. Once I was next to him, he took me by the shoulders and gently turned me around until I was facing his huge closet. He pointed to our reflection in one of the mirrored doors and said, "What do you see?"

I had a feeling there was something specific he wanted to hear from me, but I had no idea what it was, so I said the first thing that came to mind. "I see you and me."

My uncle smiled and said, "Okay, now I need you to close your eyes."

Feeling unexplainably nervous, but trusting him completely, I closed my eyes and said, "Now what?"

I felt Uncle Barry's hands leave my shoulders as he said, "I'd like you to try to imagine there's not a mirror in front of you, but an actual, living person ... a person you've never met before. Think you can do that?"

I'd never thought of myself as being all that gifted when it came to imagination, but this felt like something I could manage. "Okay, now what?"

"Once you've got that fixed in your mind, open your eyes."

I nodded, imagining a stranger was standing in front of me as I opened my eyes. For a second, my heart forgot about doing that thing with squishing sticky red stuff in and out of itself. My fingers went cold and tingly and my legs felt like they were about to fold up under me.

Uncle Barry appeared like magic at my side as he said, "Tanner?"

I opened my mouth to speak, which meant my brain was too busy with shock to deal with my legs too. My uncle's hands slipped under my arms and he led be backwards a couple of step until felt something against the back of my legs and sat down on something soft, but solid.

The words I'd tried to say finally started trickling out of me. "I ... I saw ... "

I felt my position shift on a yet unnamed thing as my uncle sat beside me and started rubbing my back. "What did you see, Kitten?"

"Bed." I answered. My brain quickly realized it had provided the answer to where I was sitting and switched it with another response. "I mean, girl." I turned to Uncle Barry and said, "I saw a girl."

He nodded and said, "What made her look like a girl?"

"Well, she was dressed like a girl."

"So, it was just the clothes?"

"Not exactly. There was also her hair, and her shape, and the way she stood there that all seemed to say, 'girl'."

There was a soft, searching look in Uncle Barry's eyes as he asked, "How do you feel about seeing a girl in your reflection?"

"I dunno. I guess maybe Mel was right about Stuart thinking I was ... " at first, I was going to repeat what my friend had said, but it felt weird calling myself pretty, so I said, "I mean, he thought I looked like a girl."

He stroked the back of my head as he asked, "How do you feel about someone thinking you're a girl?"

"It feels ... weird."

"Why's that?"

"Cause it'd mean I'd like boys."

My uncle frowned a little and said, "So, you're saying a girl can't like girls?"

At that moment, it felt like something missing had clicked into place. "You mean, like Mel?"

His frown turned into a smile as he said, "Exactly."

I turned to the mirror and saw a scared, baffled girl looking back at me. Wasn't there more to being a girl than just saying it? If there was, would more boys like Stuart make my life miserable? Would I run into the same kinds of problems Mel did with Beth? Would my parents still think I liked boys if I told them I was a girl?

Before I could find answers to any of those questions, the phone on the table by the bed rang. Uncle Barry picked it up and said, "Hello? ... Hey Sis! ... Good to hear you too. ... Oh yeah, he's been good. ... Sure, hold on a sec." He held the phone against his chest and said, "Your mom's asking for you. You up to talking?"

At that moment, I wasn't sure what I was ready for. My whole world felt like it'd been flipped over like a giant pancake. Still, talking to her felt like what I needed to do, so I nodded and held out my hand as I said, "Yeah."

Guilt and worry made everything I wanted and needed to say bunch up at the back of my throat. I was about to chicken out and hang up when Uncle Barry reached for my hand and gave it a little squeeze. Knowing he was there for me didn't take all the bad feelings away, but it was enough to give me the strength to say, "Hi Mom."

"Tanner! It's so good to hear from you." The worry and pain in her voice nearly broke my heart. It was taking me a while to pull myself together enough to speak again, which is probably why she asked, "Is everything all right?"

I took in a deep breath and said, "Everything's okay, Mom. I just ... there's something I need to talk to you and Dad about. Is he there?"

"Yes, he's in the living room with me. Hold on a second."

I heard my parents talking, but I couldn't make out what were saying because the sound was muffled. Dad's voice started getting louder, then there was a click.

For a moment, I thought my parents had been too mad to talk and hung up on me, but then I heard my mom saying, "... is listen to him."

"I know," my dad said in the gruff voice he used when he was trying to cover pain, sadness, or any other non-masculine emotion. "I think I got the speakerphone working now. You there, Son?"

"I'm here. Thank you for talking to me."

"Of course," Dad said.

"You know you can talk to us any time," Mom added.

"We ..." Dad said with a tiny crack in his voice. "... we love you, Tanner."

For a moment, I was too stunned to speak. Even though I knew my dad loved me, I couldn't remember him ever saying the words before. "I love you too," I finally said as something damp trickled down my cheek. "I'm also sorry for the way I acted."

"It's okay," Mom said, sounding about as choked up as I was feeling.

The line hissed when we all fell silent, then Dad said, "We probably shouldn't have tried pushing you so hard into accepting something you weren't ready to accept."

I thought about the last fight I'd had with my parents, then said, "Maybe, but I think you might have been right about me. At least, partly right."

"Oh sweetie," Mom said, sounding relieved, "that's such wonderful news. "Do you have a boyfriend yet? You know you can bring him over to the house, but not in your bedroom, unless ..."

"Mom," I said.

"... you leave the door open. And then there's ..."

"Mom!" I shouted.

"... family vacations, which ... umm ... yes dear?"

"I said you were right, but only partly."

"How were we only partly right?" my dad asked.

"Well," I answered, "I think I might be gay, but not in the way you thought."

"What do you mean?" Mom asked, sounding a little lost.

"Dad ... Mom ... I think I may be a lesbian."