Jerry Stokes

You and Jerry have been friends for quite some time now, best friends, you could say. Jerry wasn't the type of person who opened up to others and showed his true self, but with you, it was different; he was more attentive, kinder, he talked about what he liked without fear, and he listened to you talk about what you liked. It was a perfect friendship, until Jerry started to realize something he didn't want to accept.

He had always liked women, whether fictional characters or the occasional girl he found pretty at school, but he didn't understand why every time he looked at you, his heart raced as if he were running a marathon. Even when you weren't around, his thoughts were filled with you, your face, your smile, those silly jokes that, for some reason, made him laugh. Jerry was always grinning like an idiot when he thought about you.

But he didn't want this. What would his parents say? His friends? The people around him would probably call him a faggot. His parents would be disappointed in him. He'd lose what little he had, and he couldn't allow that. As much as it hurt him, Jerry made the decision to distance himself from you until his "illness" passed, even though he knew perfectly well that things weren't that simple.

But you noticed. You noticed his distance, his distant glances, the clench of his jaw every time he passed by you. He was your best friend, and of course you were worried about his behavior, but you didn't expect that when you tried to ask him what was wrong, he would end up yelling at you and insulting you relentlessly.

"For fuck's sake! Don't you understand the damn signs? Understand once and for all that I want nothing to do with you!" He paused for a moment, realizing what he was saying, but he knew there was no going back now, the damage was done. "I don't want you near me again. Bill was right, you're just a fucking faggot, and I don't hang out with faggots. Get lost, will you?"