Fraiser

This story was written when I broke up with my first real boyfriend, Fraiser, unfortunately, I cant be accredited or discredited for that matter, for the story line, as it is almost entirely true. However, I did want to know what you thought of this piece of writing.

I understand that the ending may be disappointing or may leave you wanting to know what actually happened, but I’ll be honest with you, after I had written this far, I couldn’t write any more, it just didn’t seem right to me for this story to be any longer. I’m sorry if that is a disappointment to you. -Just because I really dont feel right adding to the storyline (i.e. expanding from the ending) doesn't mean I wouldnt take advice on what already exists, for instance, I feel this may be more effective if I make more mention of the times me (Tony) and Fraiser spent together... but Im not sure where to fit them in, and I do feel this story is incomplete in that I havent expanded several points in the actual writing...



“Dear Lord, we thank you for the bounty you have set before us, and pray that you protect our family, Amen.” My mother said, loudly and clearly. Her eyes were closed, her hands pressed together, with her forehead resting on her finger tips.

“Amen.” I repeated, along with my father and brother.

The second my mother opened her eyes, my father visibly relaxed, he always seemed to treat the prayer before meals as something he constantly feared he would get wrong.

As my mother lifted the lids of the various serving dishes on the table, a wave of sweet smelling herbs and deliciously cooked vegetables washed over me; I had learnt to edit out the enticing scent of lamb steak.

We started serving up, my father and brother instantly dived to fight over the lamb steak, while my mother and I served out our vegetables and potatoes, and I took a vegetable burger and placed it alongside my peas, beans, sprouts, carrots, and boiled potatoes.

After the initial attack, my father and brother calmed, and we all sat back to eat our meals. It was beautifully cooked; my mother had always had a talent for cooking. I ate as slowly as I could, hoping that by doing this I would not have to swallow as much, but I knew I was wrong.

“Is there a problem, Fraiser?” asked my mother.

“No, mum, just thinking about school.” I said, not wishing to disclose to her what was really on my mind.

“Okay, it’s nothing... romantic you want to talk me about?” I could hear my father’s assault on the plate slow down, and my brother’s finish all together.

“No, mum, just a missed homework.” I replied, head down, staring at my meal, I decided to speed up, I didn’t have much on the plate, if I was quick maybe I could avoid...

“Oh, okay, honey.” You could hear the many layers of pure disappointment in my mother’s voice.

“Of course, it wouldn’t be, Fraiser’s a little prude, wouldn’t even kiss a girl without marrying her.” My brother laughed; his mouth full of lamb.

...that.

“Dont talk with your mouthful, dear.” My mother said to my brother.

I quickly finished my last bite of the vegetarian burger, and turned to my mother, “May I be excused?” I asked, she nodded, and I left.

The window from my bedroom was exactly parallel to the opposite house’s window, the street below was small, I could’ve reached into the other window with a few brooms tied together. My bedroom was my haven; I didn’t have to live with my brother or my parents or the crying baby in the room next to me if I was in it, so I kept it neat, the only thing that could be put into a drawer but never was, was my mobile phone.

I sighed, and stared out of my window; maybe he would be in his room, maybe I could see him again.

Staring out of the window, I could just make out a figure walking around in the dark. I smiled, and the light to the room switched on, revealing him, in all his glory. He was a wonderful boy, thin, muscular, he played the guitar, and he played it well; he had helped my family move in two years ago, and that was probably the time I fell in love with him.

Then she walked in, the girl who he loved, she was smiling; they had spent the day together again, I hated that, she was my best friend, and she spent her days with him, knowing how I felt about him.

I blinked a tear from eye and turned away, not able to watch. I stared at my phone and noticed I had a text, I checked it; another hate text from my ex.

Sitting at my desk, I hunched my head over, and sobbed.

The next morning, I dragged myself from my bed, I looked across the street once more; he was still in bed, dreaming about her.

I washed, got dressed, and left for school.

When I got there, my ex was waiting for me, as I entered the main door I heard him call out, “Have fun banging John last night, slut?”

I ignored him, I didn’t even know who John was, but I knew that by break time a rumour about me and him would be spread across the whole school. My ex was good at things like that.

The table I usually sat at had been moved, I groaned, not wishing to sit on my own again; everyone thought of me as a man whore who would sleep with anyone who sat next to him.

But as I sat down, a boy stood and moved next to me, his friends from the table he had been at before called out, “What? Why would you want to sit next to that faggot?”

He replied, “Jealous.” With a teasing smile; I knew who this was.

Tony Jones, the “smooth operator” of the school, he knew everyone, and anyone that didn’t like him was hated by everyone else. He joked around constantly about being with men, and made no secret of the fact he had never gone out with anyone, but that was only what everyone knew, his close friends got to know him a little more.

Firstly, Tony Jones was gay, secondly, he had slept with more guys than I had been rumoured to, and thirdly, he had come out last week, and was waiting for his more dim-witted friends to realise.

No one would ever call Tony fit, well, actually, that’s my first big lie of the day, everyone called him fit, but not because of his body, if anyone paid too much attention to his body they wouldn’t think he was half as good looking as if they spent some time looking at his face; he had quite long, sandy blond hair in a sweeping style much like my ex’s, he was tanned, had shining white teeth, perfectly aligned, and deep blue eyes.

He smelt of sweet flowers and expensive hair product, and when he turned to me and smiled, I couldn’t help but smile back. I thought back to how I knew of Tony, and I realised it was her that told me, the girl he thinks about all the time, my best friend, who stole him from me. Even though I never really had him.

About half way through the lesson he passed me a note; it was subtle, so subtle I didn’t even notice, he could’ve left it there for me to notice at the beginning of the lesson for all I knew, I felt embarrassed, not knowing if he had grown impatient or not, but he seemed perfectly calm, writing down what our teacher had written on the board.

The note read, in scruffy, just legible hand writing; ”I don’t think you’re as much of a slut as James says you are.”

I wrote back, “I’m not. Why?”

He wrote, “You’re too sweet, too quiet, and your incredibly fit, don’t get me wrong, but you don’t look confident enough.”

I just wrote, “Incredibly fit? Yeah right...”

He picked up the note and pocketed it, I thought that was the end of it if I’m honest, but then he whispered to me, “Fraiser Bolton, I have had my eye on you for some time... I swear to god, you are the fittest guy in this school, and I would love it if you could come round my house sometime.”

I considered it, and then countered it with “Or you could come round mine.”

And that was that, Tony Jones was going to come round my house after school, the rest of the day seemed to go in a blur, until the end of school, when he was waiting for me by the main door.

“Hello, Fraiser, so whereabouts do you live?” he asked, smiling at a few of his friends down the corridor.

“Oh, Cassandra Street.” I said, trying to pretend I had forgotten the invitation.

He grinned at me, and I nervously smiled back, “Come on then, Im not holding your hand – unless you want me to.” He winked, and for a moment I considered asking him to, but then thought better of it.

We had just gotten out of range of the school when his hand gently gripped mine, he was warm, and I accepted willingly, he seemed quite happy walking along with me, and he was one of those people that used happiness like a disease, it spread all over his body, through his hand and into mine, and from there, blossomed, until both of us were grinning contentedly.

As we turned into Cassandra Street I released his hand, he looked hurt for a second, then realised that I must not have told my parents.

When I got home, only my mother was in, she was cooking, as always, so I quickly told her I had a friend round, and then disappeared into my room with Tony.

It was strange, having another guy in my room with me, he sat down straight on the bed, and offered for me to sit down with him, I did, hesitantly. As much as I liked the thought of sleeping with Tony, I didn’t want for it to mean nothing, I quite liked Tony in a roundabout sort of way; he was always nice to me, and I had a little crush on him.

His hand instantly went for my crotch, and his lips embraced mine in a passionate kiss, it was the best kiss I’d ever had, I never wanted it to end, but then I realized his hands were travelling down my body; slowly and subtly undoing buttons and zips as they went.

I pulled away, and frantically tried to think of a way to get out of this, I breathed in again, and his scent overwhelmed me, giving up, I said to him, “Before we do I just want to know – will you go out with me, or is this just a one night deal.”

This seemed to catch him entirely off guard, he replied with, “Do you actually want to go out with me?”

I could hear the disbelief in his voice, and answered simply with “Yes.”

He smiled, a bigger smile than I’d ever seen him do, and said, “Then of course I’ll go out with you.” Our lips met once more in the passionate exchange of unspoken vows, our legs entwined and our tongues explored, all I could taste was pure ecstasy, but this time, he stopped us.

“So... we’re actually going out now?” he asked, he seemed baffled.

“Yes?” I said, not knowing what he was getting at.

He sighed, looking down, “I’ve never gone out with anyone properly before but I take it this isn’t what we’re supposed to do after the first day.”

I nodded, and then looked down, he wrapped his arms around me, and I rested my head on his chest, I closed my eyes, and realised that for the first time in two years, I wasn’t thinking about the boy across the road.

*

My father stood up, and got a vicious glare from my mother, who, having just done the prayer, was going to serve up our meal; spaghetti with meat balls for my father and my brother, and vegetable balls for me and my mother.

“Please, sit down, Hillary.” Said my father; clearly this was a large bit of news.

“I’ve been asked to go to Australia with the company, to live in a small town on the coast in a house they picked out exclusively for us, I’d be taking the place of an important man in the Australian branch of the company in charge of buying and selling, I wont bore you with the details but this would mean a huge raise, however, I realise each of you leads your own life,” he looked at my brother, “and if there’s a valid reason why you would want to stay, I have been offered a slightly smaller raise here, in England.”

For a moment, nobody said anything, then my brother mumbled; “If you’re thinking about me and Penny, we’ve split up.”

My mother grabbed my brother in a hug, saying things like “Oh, no, oh, my baby, what happened?” before my father coughed and she sat back down.

“In that case, we are moving in three months.” He said, and began to sit down.

“Wait!” I yelled, he looked at me in shock, “I want to stay, I have a... I asked someone to go out with two weeks ago and they said yes.” I mumbled, not wanting to lie outright to my parents, but being careful to omit my partner’s gender.

My father blinked, still in shock and said, “Oh, well, of course, it’s unfair for me to get in the way of young love. Pretty, is she?”

“Beautiful.” I replied.

Coughing, my father sat down, “Good, yes good, invite her round for dinner some time, if you like, of course. Good.”

I breathed a sigh of relief; I didn’t want to spoil things with Tony, and I was sure I was falling in love with him.

That night, I spoke to Tony on the phone, and he seemed to have something on his mind.

“Tony, what’s wrong?” I asked, getting tired of his vague answers and lame excuses.

“Nothing’s wrong I just... I want to say something but I’m too scared of how you’ll react.” He replied, beating around the bush once again.

“Say it.”

“I...” he sighed, “I really do love you, Fraiser.”

A wide grin appeared on my face, “I love you too, and why would I react badly to that??” I asked, my heart pounding.

“I... I don’t know... but... do you actually love me??” He asked, even I could hear the happiness in his voice, and that just made me grin more.

“Of course I do.”

The rest of the conversation was largely repetition, but I never grew tired of hearing it, and he never wanted to stop saying it, but eventually it was too late, and I was too tired, so after extended goodbyes, we hung up.

He wasn’t at school the next day, he didn’t answer my phone calls, or my texts, he wasn’t at school the day after that either and I started to worry even more about him.

After a week of not hearing anything from him, I broke down; I stopped breathing, froze, and blacked out.

When I woke, I was sitting up, and the moment I regained consciousness my father snatched me from where I was sitting and dragged me into the car, where my mother was crying.

We drove to our private doctor’s, and my father explained to him that I had had another panic attack.

The doctor looked at me, and then at my record; I had confessed a lot to him over the two years he was my doctor, and, in hindsight, it would probably have been best to tell him what my parents didn’t know.

“So, this person whose been missing for so long,” he said, after I had sort-of explained the reason for my attack, “are they your boyfriend?” instantly I froze, my mother turned to the doctor and said;

“Dont be stupid, my son isn’t gay.” Then she turned to me; to this day, I don’t know if it was the look I gave her or her working out everything herself, but either way, it doesn’t change her reaction.

She left; she just got into the car, and drove away with my father, leaving me at the doctor’s.

It took me an hour to walk home, by which time my parents had already eaten, my brother spat at me before leaving the house, muttering something about not wanting to live with a faggot.

I walked into the living room, where my father was sat, cradling my mother, he turned to me, his eyes cold as steel and his voice breaking with withheld emotion.

“Your things are to be packed; we’re leaving this house, and going to Australia to accept the job offer.” He said nothing else, turning away from me.

I ran upstairs, tears streaming down my face, and went into my room, I opened a drawer and got out a knife, I pressed it against my chest, breathing heavily. After what seemed an eternity I dropped the blade, and looked out of the window, to see him, the boy from across the street hanging, suspended from the ceiling by a noose.