Johnny

A short story you might like.  You can read it here.

I told him I was gay when I was sixteen and a half.  I just knew, see.  I knew. 

“Whaddya feel about me?” he asked.

“You’re my best friend.” Heart heavy, like Mum’s shopping bags, big and heavy and full o’ shit.  I knew what he was thinkin’.  

“I mean, do ya want to  . . . . . ?”

I shook my head quick, unable to meet his eyes.