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Authors: Dirk Hunter
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the
hall, “You thought Tommy was gay?”
“That boy was way too pretty to be straight,” she called back.
“For the record,” my dad interjected dryly, “I don’t believe that’s
how it works.”
“I—wait. You’re not mad?”
“You know, I’ve put a lot of thought into this over the years,” Dad
said. “Wut?”
“The big reason,” Dad continued, “why I’m supposed to be mad here
is ’cause if you got some girl pregnant this young, you’re almost
guaranteed to ruin at least one life. But the whole gay thing kind of
upended that logic. So really, the only real reason I can come up with to be
43
Dirk Hunter
upset here—and trust me, I have tried—is that, honestly, all this makes me
feel old. Like really, really old. And that’s not much of a reason, it seems to me. Besides, there’s only so much parental hypocrisy I can handle. The
veggies were one thing; this is an entirely different story.”
Mom appeared at the end of the hall, stirring a bowl of waffle batter.
“Yeah, your father was a real slut in high school. Like you would not
believe.”
Dad’s grin turned wicked. “Your mother, on the other hand, didn’t
become a slut until college. It’s amazing how many dicks I had to pull out
of her before I could convince her to go out with me. At one point she was
even knee-deep in pussy.” Mom threw the whisk at him, which only made
him laugh. They began arguing—loudly, I might add—about whose
sexual adventures had been the most embarrassing.
“Gross.” I closed the door to my room, shutting them out.
This was, for better or for worse, the parents I was stuck with. The two
things they seemed to like best in this world were trying to one-up each other and laughing at my discomfort. Put those things together and, viola, you have one of their patented TMI fests. I actually stil wonder sometimes how much
of what they told me was even true, and how much was just extravagant lies
for their own amusement. God knows half of what I say fal s into the lat er
category.
Dad called through the door. “Let us know when your mystery man
is ready to leave. We can all look the other way while he pretends to sneak
out through the window.” Mom laughed. “I could even burst in with a
shotgun, shouting about despoiling my little girl.” Mom was no longer
laughing. No, by then it was definitely a cackle.
“Oh man,” I said, turning back toward my bed. “I can’t believe that
just happened.” Adam didn’t respond. In fact, I couldn’t even see Adam.
He hadn’t gotten up off the floor. I walked around to the other side of my
bed and found him, lying still half under the bed with a look of sheer panic
on his face.
Oh fuck , I thought. And he had just been telling me how scared he
was of being found out. My parents: perfect timing as usual.
I fell to the floor and cradled Adam’s head in my lap. “It’s okay,” I
said. “They don’t know it was you. No one will find out. I promise. You
don’t have to be afraid.”
44
After School Activities
He smiled weakly. “I know. That was just… a little too sudden. I’m
all right. Really.”
He pulled himself the rest of the way out from under the bed and
stood up. When he got to his feet, the blanket, which had been loosely
wrapped around his body, fell to the floor. For the first time, I got to
behold Adam, by the full light of day, in all his naked glory.
He stretched, at first oblivious to my wide-eyed staring. His
incredibly well-defined muscles rippled under his skin. You know, I think
it is entirely possible I had underestimated the worth of a well-defined
musculature.
Watching the sunlight play over Adam’s abs, I found myself
reassessing his place in Oak Lake’s hotness scale. And that wasn’t even
mentioning his crowning glory, the fat tool that hung between his legs
under a thick, blond bush. I had noticed the night before how large it was,
but I had only been going by the feel
hall, “You thought Tommy was gay?”
“That boy was way too pretty to be straight,” she called back.
“For the record,” my dad interjected dryly, “I don’t believe that’s
how it works.”
“I—wait. You’re not mad?”
“You know, I’ve put a lot of thought into this over the years,” Dad
said. “Wut?”
“The big reason,” Dad continued, “why I’m supposed to be mad here
is ’cause if you got some girl pregnant this young, you’re almost
guaranteed to ruin at least one life. But the whole gay thing kind of
upended that logic. So really, the only real reason I can come up with to be
43
Dirk Hunter
upset here—and trust me, I have tried—is that, honestly, all this makes me
feel old. Like really, really old. And that’s not much of a reason, it seems to me. Besides, there’s only so much parental hypocrisy I can handle. The
veggies were one thing; this is an entirely different story.”
Mom appeared at the end of the hall, stirring a bowl of waffle batter.
“Yeah, your father was a real slut in high school. Like you would not
believe.”
Dad’s grin turned wicked. “Your mother, on the other hand, didn’t
become a slut until college. It’s amazing how many dicks I had to pull out
of her before I could convince her to go out with me. At one point she was
even knee-deep in pussy.” Mom threw the whisk at him, which only made
him laugh. They began arguing—loudly, I might add—about whose
sexual adventures had been the most embarrassing.
“Gross.” I closed the door to my room, shutting them out.
This was, for better or for worse, the parents I was stuck with. The two
things they seemed to like best in this world were trying to one-up each other and laughing at my discomfort. Put those things together and, viola, you have one of their patented TMI fests. I actually stil wonder sometimes how much
of what they told me was even true, and how much was just extravagant lies
for their own amusement. God knows half of what I say fal s into the lat er
category.
Dad called through the door. “Let us know when your mystery man
is ready to leave. We can all look the other way while he pretends to sneak
out through the window.” Mom laughed. “I could even burst in with a
shotgun, shouting about despoiling my little girl.” Mom was no longer
laughing. No, by then it was definitely a cackle.
“Oh man,” I said, turning back toward my bed. “I can’t believe that
just happened.” Adam didn’t respond. In fact, I couldn’t even see Adam.
He hadn’t gotten up off the floor. I walked around to the other side of my
bed and found him, lying still half under the bed with a look of sheer panic
on his face.
Oh fuck , I thought. And he had just been telling me how scared he
was of being found out. My parents: perfect timing as usual.
I fell to the floor and cradled Adam’s head in my lap. “It’s okay,” I
said. “They don’t know it was you. No one will find out. I promise. You
don’t have to be afraid.”
44
After School Activities
He smiled weakly. “I know. That was just… a little too sudden. I’m
all right. Really.”
He pulled himself the rest of the way out from under the bed and
stood up. When he got to his feet, the blanket, which had been loosely
wrapped around his body, fell to the floor. For the first time, I got to
behold Adam, by the full light of day, in all his naked glory.
He stretched, at first oblivious to my wide-eyed staring. His
incredibly well-defined muscles rippled under his skin. You know, I think
it is entirely possible I had underestimated the worth of a well-defined
musculature.
Watching the sunlight play over Adam’s abs, I found myself
reassessing his place in Oak Lake’s hotness scale. And that wasn’t even
mentioning his crowning glory, the fat tool that hung between his legs
under a thick, blond bush. I had noticed the night before how large it was,
but I had only been going by the feel
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