As the morning birds twittered and tweeted, and as the sun crept over the Berkshire Mountains, the quiet town of Adams slowly woke up. Inside a house off of Main Street slept a teenage boy.
“Wake up, faggot!” an angry drunken man yelled from the downstairs, a slight slur in his speech. Lyle sat up in bed, shaking his head and swinging his hair about. He stood up and grabbed the brush next to his bed, brushing his hair through and pulling out a couple of knots.
“I said up, fag!” Lyle’s father screamed again.
“I’m up!” Lyle shouted back. He grabbed his schoolbag and his extra backpack and ran down stairs.
“And don’t call me a faggot, at least I don’t have to drink to feel good about myself,” Lyle spat and ran out the door, slamming it behind him.
“Get back here and say that to my face, you rainbow-pansy fucking little useless shit!” his father screamed, running to the door but slipping and colliding with it instead of opening it.

Lyle walked into the McQuinn’s house and closed the door quietly behind him. He heard running shower water coming from the upstairs bathroom.
“Mrs. McQuinn, I’m home!” he shouted, smiling and running upstairs.
“Father’s drunk again?” Mrs. McQuinn asked from the bathroom. Lyle just nodded and walked into Terrance’s room.
“Hey Terrance McQueerAss,” Lyle smiled, waking up Terrance.

Terrance and Lyle had been friends since kindergarten. They had always known that they were different from most other boys, because when the other boys started to like girls, they didn’t. They knew that they were gay, and helped each other accept themselves, even come out to their families.

Lyle pulled his straightener out of his bag and plugged it in, letting it heat up.
“He Lie,” Terrance smiled, getting out of bed and looking around for some jeans. He found some and slipped them on over his plaid boxers. The straight-leg pants fit tight on his skinny legs, they looked like, and they were, bought in the girls’ section of the clothes store. Terrance liked to wear tight-fitting jeans and tight, brightly colored band shirts, while Lie liked to go for almost the same thing, except he like bright skinnies, too, whereas Terrance was more of a dark skinny-jeans kid.

Everyone called Lyle ‘Lie’ because of his tendency to lie to people he didn’t know. It was a trait he inherited from his real mother, who he met only once in his entire life, and yet who he never wished to meet again. His mother was a prostitute and his father was a raging alcoholic. Man, did he love his parents. But the McQuinn’s were his foster-parents almost. He spent enough time there for them to be his foster parents. All Lyle had ever really wanted to do was to make his father proud, but as soon as he came out his father hated him, and from then on he treated him with no respect. It hurt Lyle, every time his dad insulted him, but he never let it show around anyone other than Terrance and Mr. and Mrs. McQuinn.

Finally his straightener was ready, and he started to straighten his purple and green hair. Terrance slipped on a tight neon yellow shirt and threw on some finger-less gloves. Lie finished his hair fast, leaving it a little sloppy, and he just brushed out the rest, it’s not like it was an afro, anyway. He left the straightener on and walked over to his extra bag, grabbing a pink band shirt and some electric blue skinnies. He slipped them on as Terrance straightened his hair, then he made sure he had everything in his schoolbag.

“How’d ya sleep?” Lie asked, grabbing the eyeliner from his other bag and starting to put it on.
“Fine, your father being a dick again?” Terry asked, walking over to Lie, who was about to start crying, “Y-yeah…” Lyle replied. Terrance hugged him tight and kissed his cheek.
“Th-thanks…” Lie said softly, then grabbed his schoolbag and his cigarettes from his other bag and walked outside. Terrance started to straighten his hair as Lyle walked out of the house and lit up a cigarette.

Terrance’s mom walked outside and Lie offered her a cigarette, which she took and lit for herself.
“Listen, if you want to live her you c-“ she started, but Lyle just shook his head, and she understood. He just wanted to make his father proud, and he would try his hardest until the day where the point was that it would be impossible, then he would move in with the McQuinns.

As he finished off his cigarette, Terrance walked outside and smiled weakly, he hated that Lyle smoked at such a young age, well, at all, really.
“Sorry…” Lie said as he flicked his cigarette away, refraining from exhaling. Finally he did, and Mrs. McQuinn handed the keys to Terrance. Terrance took them and got in the car, throwing his bag in back and starting it up. Lie followed him and got in, putting his bag between his legs on the floor and plugging his iPod in.

They drove to the school without talking, just listening to some Mindless Self Indulgence. As juniors, they could park in the lot next to the school, which was much easier than the sophomore parking area was. They got out of the car and grabbed their bags, and headed into the building. They hugged each other and headed in separate directions for first period. Lyle walked into the Art room and sat down next to his other best friend, Owen Merriam.
“Hey dude,” Lie said, then looked at what Owen was drawing, something amazing as usual. Owen looked up and waved, then turned back to his drawing. Suddenly he looked back and pointed at Lyle,
“I want your web-tattoo, it’s still as amazing as the first day you got it,” Owen said in a jealous tone, then turned back to his drawing.

“Students, we have a new student today, his name is Jack Reilly, he comes from New York City, and he needs friends here,” the art professor said and gestured to the kid standing next to him. Lyle looked up, then quickly looked away as he began to blush.

Standing next to the teacher was a tall, thin kid with black hair and dyed pink tips. His pale skin matched his golden eyes, and his perfect nose rested comfortably between them. The left side of his lip was pierced, and he wore a tight jacket over his black, skull and crossbones shirt. The jacket sleeves cutoff midway through his forearms, and hid a pair of zippers on the elbows, a zip-off hood, and front-sip pockets. He had on black skinny-jeans, which pressed to his thin legs perfectly, and a pair of antique Chuck Taylors.

Jack walked over and sat in the empty chair next to Lyle,
“Hey,” he said coolly, his voice was almost singsong.
“H-hey,” Lie stuttered, and looked down, hiding his eyes behind his green bangs.
“My name’s Jack, what’s yours?” Jack asked, smiling happily. Lyle didn’t respond for a moment, but looked up helplessly at Owen, who laughed slightly.
“His name’s Lyle,” Owen chuckled, returning to his drawing. “I’m Owen by the way,” he added, looking up and smiling, then looking back down.

Jack looked at Lyle funny, then looked to the front of the class for a few minutes, then rested his head on the desk.
‘Oh great, he thinks I’m a freak already…’ Lyle thought, and started doodling on the side of his color scheme notes, but stopped when he realized he was drawing a heart. Suddenly he heard a quiet snore come from beside him. Jack was asleep with his head on the desk, his light breathing was assuring to Lyle for some reason, it made him feel calm.

The bell rang, signaling the end of first period and everyone started to pack up. Well, everyone but Jack Reilly, the new kid who was out like a light. Nervously, Lie walked back to his table and gave Jack a slight shake.
“Wake up, s-sleepy,” Lyle tried to mimic Jack’s singsong tone, but stuttered. Jack stirred and put his hand on Lie’s shoulder, then hoisted himself up.
“Thanks…” Jack mumbled, reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his schedule, “Do you know where World History is?” Jack asked casually.
“With Mr. Perrin? I have that next, I’ll take you there,” Lyle smiled, and headed towards the door. Jack just smiled and followed him, taking Lyle’s hand as they walked out of the art room.