by Jacob Dennis

Created on: November 15, 2008

All the students in the class sit quietly assigned to read chapter thirteen from Mary Shelly's "Frankenstein". Sunlight from the clear day outside comes through the classroom's windows and reflects off the desks filling the room with gentle summer light. Occasionally students shift in their seats trying to find comfort in what feels like an eternity to each one of them. The teacher sits at her desk making her, signature, red additions to the student's papers. Jonathon sits at his desk not staring at his book but staring at Greg Michaelson two rows over. He studies Greg just as studiously as he should be his book.

Wow, he looks so good today.

Jonathon's mind drifts away into a fantasy he has imagined many times before.

In the fantasy the two sit on Jonathon's couch. Everyone is out of the house, and the lights are all off. The movie playing sends a soft blue glow on the two boys, who sit on opposite ends of the couch. As the movie progresses Jonathon casualy scoots closer to Greg, disguising his movements as him trying to get comfortable. The volume of the movie slowly rises as an intense action sequence plays out. At the climax Jonathon finds his hand squeezing Greg's in excitement. Greg notices it and looks into Jonathon's eyes. Jonathon stares deeply back. As the conclusion to the story plays out an intense red showers the boys accentuating their features. Jonathon, in almost a whisper confesses his feelings for Greg. Much to his pleasure Greg says it back and their lips meet in a long warm kiss.

Johnathon, now entranced in his fantasy, feels a tingle in his crotch and a heavy pressure in his pants. He realizes he has been staring at Greg for a good thirty seconds and quickly turns his attention to his book. The words on the page are blurry and Jonathon cannot focus on any one of them. He shifts in his seat trying to hide the obvious bulge in his pants.

God, what is wrong with me? Why am I having these feelings for another boy?

Jonathon turns his attention back on Greg. He follows the curves of Greg's face with his eyes. He looks at his shoulder muscles beautifully filling in his shirt. His hair, blond and flowing.

He looks so good; NO, NO. I can't be having these thoughts.

Jonathon looks back at his book and tries to forget his thoughts.

What would the other kids think of me? What would he think of me? What would my Dad think of me? What would my Pastor think of me? What would God think of me? I just need to stop.

Jonathon looks to the other side of the room toward

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