Everybody always wants to confess, ever notice that? I felt like telling her how they'd practically beaten me up the first time, but I didn't want to tell anyone about that. It would sound like I got r***d or something and I didn't even like to think about it very much because I always thought I should have fought them harder, but then I'd feel glad I hadn't. It didn't make very much sense to me.
"I wish you weren't a fag," Marcia said with a deep breath. "You're really cute, you know that?"
"I don't know." I shrugged.
"You are," she told me. "But even if you liked girls, you wouldn't like me, so..."
"I might," I said.
"No you wouldn't," Marcia sighed. "But I'd let you f**k me anyway."
"You would?"
"Sure," she said with a shrug. "It's better than nothing."
"I guess so," I replied a
