Categories > Original > Romance > I Always Knew I Was Different
AUTHOR'S NOTE! The name in bold at the top of the chapter indicates whose point of view the chapter is in. Just so no one is confused. Also, sorry this chapter is so short. I'm just trying to introduce all the characters and set the stage for what will eventually happen.
Brady
I dash to my car hoping and praying to a God that I don't believe in that my boss doesn't catch me walking in late again.
Shit, damn, fuck, hell!
My head throbs as I start my car and the engine revs much to loudly for my taste. I really should not drink so much...it's my one weakness...well that and big, strong men that go through curious phases.
I smile as I turn onto the street, going about 20 miles over the speed limit. A car honks at me and I flip them the finger without a second glance. I sure hope that wasn't a sweet old lady with her four grandkids...ah! Fuck it. I'm too hungover to care about anything today.
I weave in and out of traffic and take a sharp left-- illiciting even more honks from passing cars -- to pull into the local Best Buy. If only my acting career had taken off... I think, shaking my head as I walk into the hellhole where I work.
I pull the collar of my shirt up, hoping Mr. Jarod won't see me. Yes! It looks like I'm in the clear! And then I hear a sharp voice behind me. "Mr. Markum! Do you realize that you are 10 minutes late? Again?" Mr. Jarod snaps.
I groan and turn around, carefully fixing my expression into an apologetic smile. "I'm so very sorry, sir, but Chen started throwing up this morning and I had to stay with him and arrange for someone to take care of him today," I say in a deeply apologetic tone. (Chen is my made-up adopted son from China. The crazy thing is though, everyone at work believes he's real! I even have pictures of him and shit! And I tell "stories" about him to my co-workers everyday and if I ever need an excuse for being late then I use Chen. It's genius.)
Mr. Jarod clears his throat awkwardly and shifts his weight from foot to foot. "Oh, well, I guess that's okay. But you better make sure that kid stays healthy you hear!"
"Oh I will, sir. Thank you, sir," I say in a grateful tone and turn around to go put my lanyard on. What a sucker.
The rest of the day passes by quite uneventfully. Just like ever other day at work. I hang up my lanyard on my peg in the staff-room and slip my coat on. Winter sucks. I turn around, grateful to leave but I bump into my worst nightmare. Helen Otters.
"Hi, Brady..." she says in her awkward, high-pitched voice.
"Hey," I say a little reluctantly.
"How was your weekend?" she said touching my arm.
"Great now if you'll excuse me--" I try to walk around her but she blocks my path with her arm.
"Brady...I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to go see a movie or something..." she trails off awkwardly, looking at her feet.
"Helen," I sigh. "I have told you countless times. I. Am. Gay." I watch her, waiting for it to sink in. She just keeps smiling at me with wide eyes. "As in I like men. Both sexually and romantically. You are not a man."
"I can be whatever you want me to be, baby," she growls in an attempt to be sensual and then breaks off giggling.
"Okay, bye-bye!" I say and dart under her arm and out the door and into the store. I dodge behind displays, hoping she won't catch me. Then, when I think it's safe, I walk casually out the front door and into the cold. I wish I had brought my scarf and gloves, I think, shivering.
God, that girl is insane! When will she realize that I do not play for her team?? I jump in my car and take off towards home.
Brady
I dash to my car hoping and praying to a God that I don't believe in that my boss doesn't catch me walking in late again.
Shit, damn, fuck, hell!
My head throbs as I start my car and the engine revs much to loudly for my taste. I really should not drink so much...it's my one weakness...well that and big, strong men that go through curious phases.
I smile as I turn onto the street, going about 20 miles over the speed limit. A car honks at me and I flip them the finger without a second glance. I sure hope that wasn't a sweet old lady with her four grandkids...ah! Fuck it. I'm too hungover to care about anything today.
I weave in and out of traffic and take a sharp left-- illiciting even more honks from passing cars -- to pull into the local Best Buy. If only my acting career had taken off... I think, shaking my head as I walk into the hellhole where I work.
I pull the collar of my shirt up, hoping Mr. Jarod won't see me. Yes! It looks like I'm in the clear! And then I hear a sharp voice behind me. "Mr. Markum! Do you realize that you are 10 minutes late? Again?" Mr. Jarod snaps.
I groan and turn around, carefully fixing my expression into an apologetic smile. "I'm so very sorry, sir, but Chen started throwing up this morning and I had to stay with him and arrange for someone to take care of him today," I say in a deeply apologetic tone. (Chen is my made-up adopted son from China. The crazy thing is though, everyone at work believes he's real! I even have pictures of him and shit! And I tell "stories" about him to my co-workers everyday and if I ever need an excuse for being late then I use Chen. It's genius.)
Mr. Jarod clears his throat awkwardly and shifts his weight from foot to foot. "Oh, well, I guess that's okay. But you better make sure that kid stays healthy you hear!"
"Oh I will, sir. Thank you, sir," I say in a grateful tone and turn around to go put my lanyard on. What a sucker.
The rest of the day passes by quite uneventfully. Just like ever other day at work. I hang up my lanyard on my peg in the staff-room and slip my coat on. Winter sucks. I turn around, grateful to leave but I bump into my worst nightmare. Helen Otters.
"Hi, Brady..." she says in her awkward, high-pitched voice.
"Hey," I say a little reluctantly.
"How was your weekend?" she said touching my arm.
"Great now if you'll excuse me--" I try to walk around her but she blocks my path with her arm.
"Brady...I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to go see a movie or something..." she trails off awkwardly, looking at her feet.
"Helen," I sigh. "I have told you countless times. I. Am. Gay." I watch her, waiting for it to sink in. She just keeps smiling at me with wide eyes. "As in I like men. Both sexually and romantically. You are not a man."
"I can be whatever you want me to be, baby," she growls in an attempt to be sensual and then breaks off giggling.
"Okay, bye-bye!" I say and dart under her arm and out the door and into the store. I dodge behind displays, hoping she won't catch me. Then, when I think it's safe, I walk casually out the front door and into the cold. I wish I had brought my scarf and gloves, I think, shivering.
God, that girl is insane! When will she realize that I do not play for her team?? I jump in my car and take off towards home.
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