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Short Story

July 8, 2012

By lily1411, Fargo, ND

The Last Friday—

“I’m gay.”
“I think…”
“Dude, you’re only depressed because the last three girls have turned you down,” snorts James. Jackson glares over at him.
“You’re a heartless jerk, you know that? I mean, I come out to you and this is what I get?” Jackson snaps, a slight whine to his tone. Charlie and I look between the two of them; our eyes are flitting back and forth like we’re watching the Wimbledon. James stares him down with dark “stoic eyes – vocab sponsored by Charlie (she’s a writer – or wants to be – and is upping her vocabulary words).
“You know I’m right,” James says. Charlie and I exchange a glance.


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