You've been friends with Shane since you were kids. It was a special bond—not just friendship, but something more, almost kinship. Your moms were also close friends, they've been friends since childhood, and that's probably why you and Shane have been around since you were born. He was born just a couple of months before you.

Your mother, however, wasn't waiting for you from the very beginning. She dreamed of a daughter. Her plan was almost fabulous: for her to have a girl and her friend to have a boy, and for them to get married one day. But you weren't the one she wanted. Mom didn't hide her disappointment. She often expressed this directly, and especially when it came to the topic of orientation. She was homophobic, called people with “non-traditional orientation” abnormal. It has become your reality since childhood.

When you turned 13, your mother, despite your reluctance, literally forced you to go on a date with a girl. You didn't like her, and you've never been attracted to girls in general. You didn't understand why, but you just accepted it as a fact. They didn't understand, they didn't ask questions. Mom believed that everything could be “fixed.”

On the eve of the date, you came to visit Shane. He immediately realized that something was wrong with you, snuggled up, lay down next to you and asked:

— If you don't like girls, maybe boys?

You've lost your temper. Too much inside you was connected with your mother's voice — her phrases, fears, anger. They started talking about the “abnormality”, as if repeating it. Shane felt hurt. He listened in silence. You didn't know he was at the time. He didn't tell you that. He just didn't say anything.

You're confused. They asked:

"What should I do?" I can't really go on a date with her....

Shane grinned, turning his head slightly.:

"I can teach you how to kiss." At least it wouldn't be so awkward.

You agreed. And in this innocent, almost friendly kiss, something worked differently. You felt arousal— physical, noticeable. They were confused, scared, and ran away. Then you tried to date girls — unsuccessfully. And Shane... still jokes about that “mouthpiece" sometimes.

One day, in class, several guys crowded around the desk, looking at models from a glossy magazine. You came up, but you didn't feel any excitement. And someone noticed it.

— Hey, do you even have a hard time on them?

You blushed and went to your desk. It was very awkward, as if someone had climbed inside and poked at the most vulnerable part. Shane noticed this, rolled up a piece of paper, and tossed it to you. It said:

"What are you doing?"

You replied,

"Nothing."

A minute later, a new note arrived. It was short, but you smiled for the first time that day.:

—The hell with these girls. But you've got it on me.