Dance With Me

Chapter One

Mark

"One two three, one two three, one two fuck!" Seàn and I were in my dance studio, I was sitting down on a wooden bench. Seán wanted to learn how to dance, so I thought I'd help him out. He had a frustrated look on his face and he was sweating.

     I sigh and shake my head. "You're doing fine, Seán. Remember that you're only a beginner at this. Take a break," I say and he looks at me. "How did you get so good at this," he asks, sitting down next to me. "It took me years and years of practice buddy."

     I smile and stand. "I'm kinda hungry. What about you," I ask and he nods, standing back up. "I'm in the mood for some pizza," he says and I laugh. "Pizza it is, then," I say and we're confronted by my girlfriend, Amy. She smiles at us and we smile back. "Where you guys off to," she asks, tagging along as we walk.

     She can get a little... Protective of me sometimes. For example, one time I was talking to a fan and she said something about used to having a crush on me when Amy suddenly pulled me away. She doesn't like me talking to girls. "We're getting pizza," Seán answers for me. She nods,

     "Pizza sounds really good right now," she says and laughs. She's a really good friend, but the thing is, I don't love her. I say I do, but I don't. I don't like girls. I'm what people call gay, but I don't like labels. "I'll leave you guys alone now. See you tonight, Mark," she says and winks. Oh. Tonight. I've been avoiding sex since I first realized that I was gay.

     I don't want my first time to be with a girl. I smile at her but as she walks away, I sigh, slumping. Seán looks at me, confused. "What's wrong," he asks and I decide to tell him the truth. I mean, he's my best friend. He'll understand. Right?

     "Seán, I don't want to have sex with Amy," I say, looking at him. "Why not? She loves you and you love her," he says. "But that's it. I don't love her," I say and look around, realizing that we had gotten outside. I pull him away from people, keeping my voice low. "Seán, I'm gay. I don't like girls," I say, holding my breath and waiting for his response.

    I see hope glimmer in his eyes, and he pulls me into a hug. "It's going to be okay, Mark. We just have to make you look as gay as possible," he says and I laugh. "And what are we going to do? Get a manicure, get me a crop-top, jean shorts, and high heels?" He grins and shakes his head. "Not the heels, you're not a drag queen. We'll get you some fly boots to go with your crop top and jean shorts."