A/N – This one's a bit different from the last one. I haven't exactly been editing these, and this one was written at two in the morning. If there is a really obvious grammar/continuity mistake, I apologize. Rather then being told from third person, this one is in first, and is told by Buster. While the updates may not be regular, I do hope to continue with this story, as it's been playing out in my head for a while now. Anyway- Have fun, leave a review if you want, otherwise thanks for blowing a little more time on this.

I'd always kinda known I guess. There was no one deciding moment, no big revelation one day that I liked boys. It was more. . . A series of related events, that made everything fall into place. A big puzzle in my brain that had been missing one piece was now complete, and you could clearly read what had been guess at all along.

I AM GAY.

And there was no way to change that anymore. It just was.

It took me another three years to come to terms with it myself. I was in third grade when I got the message, and it wasn't until sixth that it sunk in. We were just starting up on a sex ed program, just the basics. They separate the girls from the boys, and tell us what they think we need to know. About our bodies, about our 'future partners'. All very hetero, without a dash of homo.

I didn't eat lunch that day. I felt sick to my stomach after that class, a knot forming in my gut. Up until then I'd been known as a bottomless pit, eating anything and everything. After that, I just started lessening that. Some times I'd go days, weeks without eating. I didn't really think about it. It was just something I did.

Even when I finally came to terms with it all, I didn't want to act on it. Being with another boy seemed dirty. Not that I could find someone around my neighborhood to fool around with anyway. I wasn't ready to tell Arthur, let alone make a move on him. The only 'gay' person I'd heard of in my town was the 'trannie' we occasionally saw in the supermarket.

It was in seventh grade, when my dad asked me to ride along with him again. Replace second semester with a trip around the world. What kid would want to leave their whole life behind for six months, just to take a ride they'd taken dozens of times before?

I would. Every time.

I rarely got to see my dad, and the time we did spend together was sparse. Whenever I got a chance to see him for a long period of time, I went for it. Not to mention, anytime away from a life that wasn't really mine was welcomed.

In the third grade, I got my first video camera. The handle was cheap and replaced with duct tape within days, the zoom hardly functioned; but it was mine. I filmed anything I could see, friends, family, ducks. I literally spent an hour filming paint drying.

At home, nothing was quite sacred. My mom went through my stuff a lot, worried about what I was into, or simply wondering where the stink was coming from. On the plane, it was a different matter. My dad didn't care what I had, as long as I didn't leave anything behind. I got left alone a lot, had to find my own ways to entertain myself. So I started to film things, whether they were the passengers, or the exotic countries I'd landed in.

I sent a lot of those back to my friends in E.W.C., when I was on my trip in third grade. By seventh I'd gotten a much better camera, and a new idea - I started to talk to the camera. I confessed things I'd never told anyone else to that camera. You could say, that camera is the first person I came out to.

On the whole trip, I never missed a meal. I didn't refuse, or ignore the plea's from my stomach. I paid attention to what smelled good, what tasted good, rather then what would stop me from feeling hungry. Back home, hunger gave me a barrier to the rest of the world. It gave me something to focus on rather then having to think those thoughts I didn't want to. It was something I could control, while everything else was slipping through my fingers.

On the plane, I was in control. We flew through the sky, from one mystic land to the next. We saw all sorts of lifestyles, ones that made the one I may have to live seem simple.

All good things must come to an end, right? When the plane touched down in EWC, I was not prepared. Everything went back to normal, right away; too quickly, it seemed. Within weeks I was just another kid, back into the daily grind of schoolwork I'd missed and trying to reconnect with the friends I'd lost for months.

Enter, George. We were never great friends, we had a lot of issues. Thinking back on it, he was always there. Never right in the front, like Arthur or Brain; he hung to the back, didn't take the spotlight. But he was there. He always was.

So it was no wonder, that he was there in my room, two months after I'd gotten home, in one of the last weeks of summer. Mom was out, some ladies-night-fest thing. Nearly eight graders are, apparently, allowed to stay home alone. Our neighbor was home, a nice older woman with grown kids. She promised to be there if we needed anything. Arthur was gone on vacation with his family, Brain away at a brainiac camp he'd been going to for the last few summers. Scrolling through my mental list of friends, I thought of George. It'd been a while since we'd hung out one-on-one, hadn't it? A sleep over is the perfect time to catch up, right?

So I called him. And he came over that night, sleeping bag and backpack in hand. We expected a normal night.

I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't want- It wasn't supposed to happen like that. We didn't go very far, we just. . .

We were playing truth or dare.

"Okay, okay, it's your turn." I tried to calm my laughter, it'd been going strong all night. How had I forgotten how funny George was? "Truth or dare?"

"I guess I'll take... Truth."

"Have you ever... Kissed a girl?" I thought it would be a stupid question, and that it would get a stupd answer. Of course he had. He'd probably gone a lot farther then that with a girl too. Just another thing everyone else had done that I hadn't.

"No." He said it sheepishly, like he was just as ashamed as I was. "H-Have you?"

"You didn't say truth or dare."

"Fine; truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Have you ever kissed a girl?"

I took a deep breath. Maybe it'd be okay to reveal this to him, maybe it didn't have to stay between me and my camera anymore. I pulled myself together, had to compose myself, pretend like I hadn't spent the last ten seconds debating whether I'd made the right decision. In, in, in, in and... "Nope." Now quick, don't give him a chance to mock or ask questions, use whatever breath you have left and just say... "Truth or dare?"

He seemed surprised. At how quickly I'd tried to change the subject, or at my answer? He took a moment, then spoke softly, seriously- "Dare."

His eyes wanted me to do it. His posture was just telling me to. Something about him overwhelmed my senses, I couldn't help myself, I didn't think. I just acted. I pounced over the top of the popcorn separating us, and I pressed my lips to his. We kissed for a full ten seconds, I counted each one with three beats of my heart, then we broke apart. We sat, staring at each other in awe for a moment, neither one of us wanted to speak, just live in this unknowing silence where we could assume anything we wanted. I couldn't stand it. His breath on my mouth felt so warm, I had to feel his heartbeat pressed atop mine. I pounced on him again, gentler this time, making sure our teeth didn't bump together. And we kissed. For thirty seconds. It was longer then Arthur had ever kissed a girl, that was for sure. No way was Francine as good a kisser as George.

We didn't go any farther, we just kissed the night away.

I didn't love George. Not then, not in that moment. Not in any of the moments that came later. We were never in love, that was clear.

Eighth grade, for me, was when everything really started to fall in to place. Or maybe things had been in place, and eighth was when they all started to fall apart. Whatever it was, it was the start. Everyone was changing, evolving into whole other people. I wasn't immune either.

Everything was changing.

Nothing anyone tried to do could stop it.

Only thing you can do is ride the wave, and do your best to keep your head above water.