Breeze (The Mighty Queertet: Story 3)

Chapter 8: Whirlwind of Confessions by Victory Thru Tears

Author’s Note: First of all. To Dana—I know Minnesota isn’t by an ocean! Ahh, I live so close to there, I’d be ashamed if I did. However, if I did type ocean, my apologies. I meant lake. There are many lakes in Wisconsin (my state) and Minnesota that have beaches, so they’re at one of those. Had to clear that up, didn’t want you thinking I was total idiot. Next in line, I (Victory) have started a new story. It’s called She Screams in Silence, and can be found under my own penname. It has nothing to do with the Ducks, but it has everything to do with Maya. I don’t know, you might like it, and it might provide a nice background to her and Taz’s relationship. Lastly, we love the reviews you guys have been giving us! Especially the ones on your opinions of the characters or situations, those let us know what you like and what you don’t like. Thanks so much!

Maya’s POV
As Taz storms off, Charlie turns to glare at us.

“I hope you both are happy now!” he spits at me. He follows Taz, who has already run up to the house.

He’s barely four feet away when I burst into tears. Adam holds his arms out and catches me before I fall to the ground. He tries to soothe me, but I keep sobbing into his shoulder. He sits down, pulling me onto his lap. I wipe away some of my tears and mutter angrily.

“I’m surprised you want to touch me, aren’t you afraid I’m attracted to you?”

He sighs. “Not at all. Are you attracted to me?”

I smile slightly. “No. Sorry.”

“It’s ok. In fact, it’s more than ok. I mean, I’m gay. But it makes me feel kind of bad about the way I’ve been treating Charlie about Taz. He is just trying to be her friend.”

I whimper, and the tears start pouring out. His eyes widen and he pulls me close to him again.

A few minutes pass, and he quietly speaks again.

“What happened, that you’re so upset about? I mean, you don’t need to tell me, I’m just curious,” he adds quickly.

“Adam, could you say that I’m your best friend?” I ask him.

“Yes.” He smiles at me.

“Do you trust me?” I don’t smile back.


“Could you even say that you… love me?” It’s deep, I know. But I can’t divulge this secret without knowing.

Adam tilts my head up to his and for a fleeting moment I’m terrified that he’s going to kiss me again. He looks into my eyes. I think he’s trying to read the secret in them.

“Yes,” he answers confidently.

I take a deep breath. I have never spoken a word of what I am about to tell him to anyone. I say this, and he merely smiles.

Here goes nothing.

“Taz and I have gone out for about a year and a half. You know that.”

He nods.

“But you probably don’t know that we were broken up for the entire summer. Things were getting tense between us, like they are now, and we both exploded at the end of the year. Broke up the last day of school, didn’t speak for weeks. I was taking a summer drama workshop back home in Wisconsin, and I met a boy there. He was interested in me, but honestly, I felt nothing for him. We spent almost every day together because of the acting class, and my friends kept pushing me to date him. And so I did. For awhile, at least. But things started to change, and I realized why I didn’t like him, or guys, in the first place. He was a pig, and by the end of our relationship (which lasted about two months) I knew he was only using me for one thing. And after that was done…”

I choke up. I can’t get the rest out. I swallow the lump in my throat and continue.

“After that was done, I was left with nothing from him. It was an empty relationship, and he was only after that one thing again. I wouldn’t let him have it and I knew things were going to get ugly. Thank god summer ended, and I went back to school in Minnesota. Taz called me about a week before the term started, and we made up. On the first day of school we officially got back together. And that’s it.”

“No, that’s not it,” Adam says in a strange tone. It’s neither firm nor soft. “What was that one thing?”

“Adam, don’t,” I whisper.

“You’re not serious.” It’s of an angry statement. I know he’s not mad at me, he’s mad at the nameless boy.

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Are you a virgin?”


“Fucking hell,” he says, putting a protective arm around me. I’ve never heard him swear like that before. He kisses my forehead a few times, then chuckles bitterly.

“You know, this is quite a heavy secret to have been dealing with for the last eight or so months.”

“You’re telling me.” I sigh.

Taz and Charlie aren’t sleeping in their rooms again.

I haven’t been able to sleep, so I decide to get up and try to read in another room, as not to disturb Julie by turning the light on. I grab ‘Salem’s Lot and get out of bed. Not exactly good reading material this late at night, especially not for someone as faint-hearted as me, but I love horror books. Note that I said books, not movies.

I walk out of the room. Passing by the living room I see the TV on, playing Happy Days. Taz and Charlie are sprawled on the couch. I try not to let this sight bother me too much, and I continue to the balcony that overlooks the water. Seems like a nice place to sit and read about vampires.

I stop as I come to the screen door. There’s already someone sitting out there.

Fulton’s not a loud crier, but I can hear his weeping from where I am. He’s curled up in a small ball on a couch in the corner.

My heart goes out to him.

Yes, I know something is wrong with him. I’d have to be completely self-centered and stupid to not. And thank you very much, I think that I’m neither.

We’re not that great of friends. He was always Taz’s friend, although lately that’s not been the case. But I’d like to think that by now, with all of the Queertet/Lesbian bonding that has been going around since the dance in October, he can at least talk to me.

Without thinking of the consequences, I open the screen door and let him know of my presence. He looks up in alarm, and I can tell that he’s close to leaving. I sit down next to him on the couch, and put my hand on his back. He slowly starts to cry again, and I put both of my arms around him. He holds on to me. I don’t say a word, because I know that it won’t help him. I just sit by him, rocking him as he cries.

The Girl, Official stalker of Carla, Tangible Muse and Bod Who Generally Fixes the Mean Nasty Coding That Makes Carla Cry (After Having Broken It In The First Place)

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