I went home that day and just told Mom all about him.

"And his face is just pure magic! And his hair is like made of heaven!" I was practically flailing like a little girl sitting on the bed with her with her violin music playing in the background.

Most people have to "Come out" to their parents, but being, whatever it is that I am, was never weird. I never thought that being gay was different or strange. Mom taught me that it was just how some people have straight hair and some have curly hair.

She smiled, "Do you have a picture of this Peter or am I just going to have to stalk your Facebook?"

I grabbed my book bag from the side of the bed and showed her a picture.

"I don't know who the other two are but he's the one in the middle."

The picture was very low quality. It was of him and two other males. One was the size of a tank, blonde and pale. The other was skinny, darker, had a mustache, and expensive sunglasses. You can tell that was the one who made the money. He had a large ego. Very large. I couldn't see their faces.

"Did he give you this?" She asked.

"No..." I admitted. "But I didn't take it. He left it on the table."

I used to pick pocket things from people when I was younger. When I first learned how to deduce I wanted to know EVERYTHING about people. So I went through their things.

When I was about 10 Mom gave me these handwritten notebooks with instructions on how to deduce. I studied them. I knew every word forwards and back.

"He's very handsome," she complemented.

"I know," I blushed.

"So is he...?"

"He's bi, but I can work with that!" I said accepting the challenge.

She chuckled a bit at my quirkiness. "The one with sunglasses looks familiar. I think he was in a movie or something."

I look at the picture looking at the man with sunglasses. "I don't think so. But his face does look familiar."

Ugh now this was going to bother me.

~ Hamish Holmes