chapter 3

After the first week of school Cazimir transferred into my fitness class. He was going to be taking art, but he decided to take fitness instead. Fitness was kind of like gym, but was really different.

In fitness you didn't play basketball or floor hockey. You were in the weight room and you...well, lifted weights. There was also lots of running. And sit-ups. And push-ups.

I didn't personally partake in the weight-lifting activities and Coach Addams understood our little arrangement. He didn't mind that I chose not to participate. I mean, he was a gym teacher.

Caz was lifting weights and I was just standing there. He had just gotten done with some deadly looking contraption in which you kind of sit with your legs pressing against this flat surface and you push up all of these weights with your legs. It was called a leg press. Go figure.

He did a lot of those. God he had nice legs. God he had a nice face. God he had a nice everything. He stood up and we started talking, with me being a total fag complimenting him over and over again. I had a feeling I was crossing the line between good buddy and gay stalker. It was like word vomit. I had to stop talking.

I felt someone run up behind me and pull down my gym shorts. Oh my God! I didn't think they meant to, but they also pulled down my boxers.

The one day I wore boxers and catastrophe struck. ***ing laundry day. I was standing right in front of Caz so I was sure he saw my penis. I wasn't embarrassed of my junk. I actually had a pretty sizable member, but I didn't need it on display.

I pulled up my shorts and turned to see Kenneth Myers laughing hysterically along with a couple of his friends. My face was so hot. I was so embarrassed. Why did he feel the need to mess with me? What had I ever done?

Death could not have made things any more bearable. I ran out of the weight room and back to my gym locker. I grabbed all of my stuff and went to the third floor bathroom.

I went into a stall and sat down. How juvenile. I couldn't stand it. I mean, I had a nice penis, if I do say so myself, but I didn't want Caz to see it.

Hell, I didn't want anybody to see it. I was sweating I was so upset. I stood up and changed out of my gym uniform. I looked in the bathroom mirror. I looked like someone who had just been publically mortified. My face had a light layer of sweat on it and I couldn't help but frown. I had thick, curly brown hair. I wore it longer. For a while I always a faded haircut. My mother had always told me I had pretty hair. I grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and dabbed at high sweat areas on my face. I had smooth brown skin, at last. Eighth grade was my skin year from hell.

Fitness was only third period so I had to endure the rest of the day. I should've just ditched, but I currently had the best attendance record and...I didn't know, I thought it was important. I went to AP French and conjugated verbs. Caz took AP Spanish, so I didn't see him there.

I got made fun of. Some of the kids who were in my fitness class kept saying "Oui Oui." I bet they didn't even know they were saying "Yes Yes."

AP English was awkward. Caz tried to say something, but we ended up not talking about it. We didn't say anything about it, nor did we really even say anything to one another for the rest of the day.

I was actually really grateful that we weren't talking. We didn't talk for a long time after that either. It was just silence. My penis would be forever etched into his mind.