The next weeks that followed, had me questioning my sanity. I couldn’t stop thinking about this guy every chance I got!
I went out my way to befriend this guy who gave me the sweats.
And to my happiness, he really wanted to be friends with me too.
I learned that his name was Pulpit, and that his mother had a thing for baptist revivals, so she had named him after the pastors throne.
I told him that my name was James, and that we matched cause its from a king who had something to do with the bible.
School was good for me with him around, and I could feel myself, only wanting to be around him.
Because he sucked at studying, our teacher had grouped us, to better prepare us for an exam.
I arranged for us to study for the exam at my house, and hurriedly cleaned my pigsty of a room, in anticipation of his arrival.
However my father decided from the jump, that my room was off limits and we would have to study out in the living room.
It was the most awkward and awesome study session I have ever attempted to have.
It was awesome to just have him so close, so in my intimate space, and not a school setting.
It was also so very, very awkward and embarrassing because….
Every time I would try, and look in pulpits direction, my father would, clear his throat loudly.
And if I leaned too close to him, to help him with the work we were studying. My dad would butt in and sit in between us, so that I could not, be close in any way.
So we ended up on opposite sides of the couch, with a very hard faced dad in the middle, and a very red, confused faced Pulpit hurriedly leaving.
My father almost broke my jaw that night. As I lay in pain, my father spat on me.
And then for good measures, he kicked me so hard in my ribs, that blood, splashed out of my mouth, into a gooey splatter on my shirt.
I tried to pretend my dad was delusional and that his beating was unwarranted.
And although the beating was extreme and nothing I should have went through. I would be a liar to say my father was delusional.
So I tried to just lay there, and keep telling my dad I am not into boys in any way besides beating them in sports.
And hoped my dad would believe me and calm down.
He didn’t and when I awoke in the morning, I was still laying on the living room floor, sore and dazed.
And to make matters worse, I had exactly fifteen minutes to get ready for school!
I decided that I needed a new home……One where I could be free to be able to do as I pleased with minimum worry.
And one where I did not have to worry about my fathers non approving ways.
Late one night, as fate would have it, while we were all sleeping, our house somehow caught on fire!
The strangest thing is, no one managed to make it out alive but me.
My parents both burned in their bed, they had managed to sleep through the fire alarm.
The fire seemed to be the worse in their room.
I of course was devastated! Banging on my neighbors door weakly for help, as my parents bodies burned inside our home.
And I completely passed out, when the firefighters tried to ask me, if anyone else was inside the burning home I had just escaped.
Yet I was secretly elated, when the state had placed me in my uncle on my fathers sides care, after the funeral.
To me it was the beginning of my beautiful future.
And even though I had to switch schools, I was awakened to who I was, and would never go back to being somebody else again.
I entered junior year fresh! But I guess by now, the kids could smell the feminine in me, so I was not the popular kid I had once been in my old school.
Not willing to work for the spot that popularity demanded, I decided to just coast through school, with no tags attached.
I kept to myself, not adhering to my uncle to continue sports, I told him it was more of my dads thing.
Loving my uncle said he understood and never wondered why I did not try out for any sports, or any clubs at my new school.
I oftentimes wondered, just how my uncle and my father, were blood brothers at all.
This was because, of how night and day they were, especially when it came to raising me.
My father beat me, for any notion, of me not being one hundred percent, all male or at least his notion of it.
I was never allowed to cry or show emotions such as hugs from him to me.
But my uncle, he was as kind, as he was wise, and I loved every inch of him for it!
My uncle was a true man in my opinion. He allowed me to cry and express my emotions without judging. And whenever I had a problem, he always listened and allowed me to come to my own decisions.
More importantly he loved me! He would tell me how proud he was of my growth. Be the first to hug me and tell me he loved me, and also have my back when the teachers did not understand my mourning period.
So it was no surprise, that my uncle, did not even blink, senior year when I developed all my feminine ways.
Because senior year, is the year every thing changed in my life.
Because the summer before senior year, is when I met my mentor, boss and contractor Miss Beyouve Lavishe.