Sweatervest -- A short story (caution: sexual orientation-ness)

[Kamunt]

Plot synopsis: Young Soren's mind deteriorates as he struggles with his sexual orientation in high school.
As a precautionary note, STREAM-OF-CONSCIOUSNESS = RIGHT HERE. Now you can't say I never warned you. Oh, another warning, certain parts can be left up to interpretation, as well; i.e. for certain parts here, there isn't only one "right answer" for what happens. Another forewarning for any critiques that may stumble upon my story. My only complaint about this story is that I think I may have made Soren stutter a bit too much. It was meant to be an exaggeration of an actually stuttering problem I tend to have IRL, but I still could've overdone it. Here is the exact same story over on Writing.com, as well. Anyways...enjoy, I hope.

Are you gay?

He stood there next to his desk, looking off into space, his head tilted slightly. His posture was upright and relatively proper, his binder open to the page he had been scribbling madly on during the period. His green sweatshirt was zipped up tight in the front, his hands in the front pockets it and his brown cargo jeans were doing their baggy thing down his legs. He chuckled slightly, then shook his head. A brunette girl turned her head to look at him, then looked back the way she was, chatting up her girlfriends.

Well...are you?

He sat on his desk and put his violet notebook on his lap, still open to his scribbled page. On it was the most intricate drawing he had ever made. He didn't know what had inspired him to draw this character, or who the character was, but all he knew was that it was, for lack of a better term, awesome. He stared at the paper as if to poke holes through it with his eyes. The male would've been about a scale six feet tall. He had short, combed grey hair and grey eyes. (Although, most of the character was gray, considering he was drawn all by a pencil.) His arms were bent at the elbow slightly. His tunic was generic and short, revealing his stomach. The character was very handsome and suave and had a nice build, but not that of a bodybuilder, with a noticeable six-pack. His slacks were also nondescript, dark and hanging down to his moccasins. His shoulders were broad and his hair hung down to meet them. His nose was not flat; nor was it pointed. The eyes were solid and light, but the way the imaginative lighting reflected off of them added a touch of cold to them.

It's not that hard of a question, Soren. It's nothing to be ashamed of, either. Are you...or aren't you?

"I...I'm not."

You sure don't sound too sure of yourself. Or, maybe you're bi?

"N-no, of course not! I only like girls...g-girls like you, who're kind, caring, und-understa—"

"You know you can tell me anything, right? I've been your friend for...gosh, two years now?" She smiled warmly.

"I-I'm not, I'm not...lying. I'm telling the truth. I...wouldn't want to, anyways...since every guy I know is a huge jerk..."

"Drawing again, Soren?" Soren looked up suddenly. The necklace he wore jumped. "Can't you pay attention for just one moment, dear? Please. This is history class, not art class. Save the artwork for art class." He blushed a bit, frowning and looking down. He opened his mouth to speak, "It's all right, no need to say you're sorry. It's good, really, but now's not the place or the time for that sort of thing. Now, please...can you answer the question, Soren?"

Soren looked into his book at the text printed at the bottom of the page, staring as if to melt the words clear off of the page. He blinked. Twice.

"I'm sorry...I can't."

X ---- X

Soren, "you know it''s completely all right."

I'm not.

"Don't be afraid to tell me anything."

I'm not.

"It's really nothing to be ashameI'M NOT!

He flung his note book across the room, hitting a brunette girl in the head. She cried out an unnecessarily loud "OW!" She rubbed her head where contact was made. "Mr. Rewanz!" the teacher barked, standing up suddenly. The notebook fell dead to the floor while staying open to the depiction for a moment before flipping shut; the violet cover stared at the ceiling. "That is no way to behave in my classroom! I don't know what's gotten into you lately, you used to be such a good student. Do I have to give you a referral, detention? Detention? detention? detention. detention... detention......

"I was....I, I noticed him...in the locker room...never met him, I know he makes fun of me with the others, though," the image said to him through the cover of the notebook. "He's...he's...he is...r-really.....!!"

Soren looked down at himself. His clothes were the same but were very different. His green-and-blue zip-up sweatervest sagged from his figure. His khaki pants hugged tightly his form. His silver necklace with the quartz sapphire embedded in it hung loose around his neck. His cologne reeked of feminine scents. He wrapped each hand around the other and grimaced at their soft, gentle feel. His head sunk to the desk with a "thunk" and the digital bell rang in his ears, once...twice...thrice.

Well, are you?