Oh, yes! You do exist! And though this story does mirror Flamin', it'll definitely have some elements of its own and plotlines that didn't occur in the original--especially toward the end of this story.

I can't think of anyone prettier or nicer or funnier or smarter than Thermopolis. At least not any girls.

And still…STILL I can't summon up any sort of desire to 'get into her pants.'

I want to. Not get in her pants, that is. I want to have that feeling. To know that I'm like my friends.

Okay, let's just say…hypothetically…I've got homosexual tendencies. What would happen then?

I'd…tell my parents. And they'd flip. Because all hopes of the Moscovitz name being carried on are gone.

I'd tell my friends. Felix already knows practically, but what about the other guys? They're not likely to welcome me with open arms. Especially knowing that that might arouse me.

But it's not like I'm hot for every guy. Trevor is my friend in the same way Mia is. Paul too!

There's just something about Felix. Obviously nothing about him that would make my dreams come true…but I digress.

What about if I came out at school? There are some gay kids there already. None who really strut their stuff on a regular basis. The 'beautiful' people make that practically impossible.

Is it completely horrific if somebody doesn't follow the same way of life you do? I mean, I don't hate Catholics. Why shouldpeople hate me?

This was all hypothetical, of course. I'm not sure…not yet. That Felix thing could've just been a fluke. I mean, could I really have gone seventeen years without knowing that I like boys?

I looked up to see Thermopolis in deep thought as well. Hopefully not about what she glimpsed in my journal.

"Thermopolis? Are you okay?"

She assured me that she was, before plunging into another, rather uncomfortable subject matter. "You've been a little quiet recently. Is everything okay?"

Well, I wanna touch my best friend in places he doesn't want me to touch him--and this and several other bits of information are leading me to believe that I might swing another way.

Instead of this outburst, which still couldn't beat The Kiss in terms of extreme idiocy, I just told her I was perfectly fine. How much further from the truth can I get?

I ignored Mia's offers of girl-talk, even though I could've really used it right then. But it's bad enough that Felix knows—let alone HOW he knows—I can't tell my sister's friend! Total suicide. The cat would be out of the closet—I mean, bag—in no time.

Mia's inquiring looks were driving me on the brink of insanity. Any minute now, my mouth would fly open and all my pervy little secrets would come flying out. But before I could incriminate myself further, I offered her the crying shoulder. Smooth move, if I do say so myself.

"You know you can always talk to me about it," I said, dazzling her with a smile. "If you want…"

And then, being the pal that she is, Thermopolis unintentionally provided me with a yellow brick road out of killing my brain.

Making fun of Josh Richter instead!

Don't ask how his hair feels. Don't ask how his hair feels.

But no, she's making the very wise decision of breaking up with that beefcake. Thank the good Lord. Maybe now I can talk to her…that is, if she doesn't breathe a word to Lilly. I couldn't take that.

What exactly would I say to her anyway? I can't stop thinking about Brad Pitt's ass! If Humphrey Bogart ever held me in his arms and said, "Here's lookin' at you, kid," I think I would die happy.

I might have to wait till she's half-conscious before I start blabbing. At least I won't make-out with her instead of unloading my sorrows. Which just adds to my woe.

I came home that evening and locked myself in my room, as per usual, but with a much better reason this time.

Okay. I've got Lady in WaitingRAH-RAH-RAUNCHY!...and Debbie Does Dallas. All borrowed from Paul. All bound to bring me around.

I've just been going through a rut. A weird little funk. It's not that I'm not interested in girls! I've just been trying to tell myself that because none of them want to be seen in public with me.

Except for my mom. And Thermopolis. And neither of them have the sort of feelings towards me that I should be having towards women in general.

This is just plain embarrassing. I watched Debbie DO DALLAS and I'm still not turned on. Not in the least! I just kind of lay there, chuckling to myself and wondering if I should straighten my hair…just to see if I'd look as good as Debbie's third conquest.

I turned off the TV and buried my face into my pillow, taking deep, shuddering breaths.

So maybe…maybe…maybe I am…maybe I like guys.

Would that be such a bad thing? I mean, actually admitting it to myself has got to be far better than pissing myself off all the time for not feeling otherwise.

Harder than that, though, is getting over this thing I have for Felix. It's kind of inevitable that most of the guys I'll have crushes on won't exactly feel the same way. I mean, they outnumber me in a huge way.

I'll have to get used to heartbreak, I guess. Because I'm not lying to myself any more.

"I am gay," I said, loudly and clearly, just to see what it sounded like.

My door flew open faster than you can say "Adam Brody's butt."

"What was that?" said Lilly, looking at me strangely.

"Am-scray," I said, my cheeks coloring.

Strangely enough, she complied. Is it possible my half-step out of the closet has given me some sort of magical powers?

Neat.