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Why!? Why does this happen to me? I slashed my hands through the air with anger. Tears were now streaming down my cheek fur, which I tried to mop up quickly with me sleeve. The last thing I need is my parents seeing cry lines down my cheeks. This is no fair! God, I just hate this so much! "I hate it!" The cry escaped my lips, much louder then I had planned. I glanced around quickly. I really didn't want the neighbors giving me weird looks, but it was all clear. Attempting to stop the flow of tears, I took a couple of very slow, long breaths. The tears slowed and my sobs quieted enough for my brain to unclear a bit.

I sopped up a few more tears before jamming my hands into the pockets of my jacket and setting a brisk pace for home. As I walked, I kept my head low and my shoulders hunched. Hurrying through the front lawn, I opened the front door and was through it swiftly. I quietly cleared my voice to make sure it wouldn't crack, then called out, "Hey! I'm home!" All the while, I wiped my feet-paws and hung up the jacket I'd been wearing, conscience to put the tear-damp sleeve towards the back of the closet.

"Alright, we haven't started supper yet, so it will be a while. Is lime chicken alright?" Mom called from the kitchen.

I don't really give a rip..."Ya, Mom; that sounds great. I'll be upstairs, alright?"

"Sure honey", she answered as I was already halfway up the stairs. I rounded the corner and went straight to my bedroom. Dad was most likely downstairs in his office; I hadn't smelled him on the ground floor or up here. Going into my room, I closed the door, careful not to slam, then locked it. My parents wouldn't care; they never barged in. Now, as I shuffled glumly over to my bed, I was safely alone to act how I wanted. I laid back, arms spread eagle as I stared at my blank ceiling. How did I even want to act? My mind had calmed enough to fully assess what had happened... so why had I been so angry? Why had I cried so much?

I stayed there for a bit, pondering why I had been so emotional. I really couldn't think of a good reason. All he had essentially said was that he thought I was beautiful...wait a second..._sitting up quickly enough to make my head spin, I looked around in surprise. _He said I'm Beautiful! He said that! Michael said that! Giddy warmth blossomed from my stomach and spread through my body. A stupid smile spread across my face as I clasped the top of my head with my hands and fell back again. The one guy I liked might actually share the feelings. I didn't know what to do; I'd only dated once and never let myself fall for someone until Michael. The only thing...I was worried about him too; he hadn't taken it well...I hope he didn't think he'd ruined anything.

*** *** ***

"So, Michael seemed really nice. He was very polite." Mother said with a smile as we sat around the kitchen table. Despite me not caring, the lime chicken was delicious. Steamed broccoli and rice shared the plate with the chicken. I couldn't complain.

"He had a nice firm handshake, and he looked me in the eyes while we shook; seems fine to me." Dad noted as he put down the small glass of wine he had just sipped from. I rolled my eyes, though in retrospect I should have seen the analysis of Michael coming. He was the first friend I'd brought home in a couple of years, and I think my parents were worried about raising a recluse.

"Like we told him, we'll have to plan a time for him to come over. Luke, you should get his parents' number for me. I bet his mother is lovely based on his fur."

"Um...Mom?" I tried to speak up.

Dad spoke up too soon for either of them to hear me. "Luke," he asked, "does Michael play any sports? He sure looks like he could."

"Uh..." I rack my brain for the answer. "Well, he tried out for the school basketball team. The coach said he did well enough, but the team had already been picked out. I think he'll try next year though. But anyway, Mom, you can't meet his mother."

"Why, Luke? Is she away? Or does Michael not want use to meet his parents?" she asked.

"Well, she is dead. She died a couple months before they moved here if I remember correctly. And as far as I know, Michael isn't embarrassed by his dad. I don't know if I can say the same though." I said with a sideways glance at Dad. I hoped a little humor would help keep the mood from dropping to drastically.

"Oh, really?! It's a good thing I didn't bring it up then when he was here."

"Yah..." I said as I looked off to the side distractedly. He really does hate to talk about it...when he first told me, he began to tear up.

"Strong lad, able to go one so well." Dad commented. Then, looking at me with ears twisted back in mock sadness, he asked, "I'm not too embarrassing, am I?"

"No, Dad, you're fine."

He reached over and poked me in the arm. "Well then, I guess I'm not doing my job as parent then. I'll just have to try harder, huh?" Dad's best evil grin was plastered to his face while he answered.

"Oh, Honey! I remember where all the photo albums and videos of Luke are! The next time one of his friends is over..."

"NOPE, nope...no." I interrupted, my fur prickling at the thought of all the horrors they could unleash. Plus, I didn't want there to be much more planning time on the subject. "You guys are doing plenty fine as you are now. I see no need to pull the big guns." I then got up with a swish of my tail and took my empty plate to the sink to put in the washer.

My father turned in his seat to look at me while I rinsed my plate. "I hope you know we were only joking around."

"Yes, and that's what scares me. I can't imagine what you two could come up with if you weren't joking." I answered without looking up as I bent to open the dishwasher door. After that was done, I took both of their plates and put them into the washer too. I glanced at the wall clock over the sink, then announced, "Thank you very much for dinner. I'm going to go upstairs now to shower, then I'll go to bed. Is that alright?"

"Yes Luke, that's fine. Now come over here!" My mother ushered me forth to give me a big hug. "Night Luke, see you in the morning. Don't forget to set your alarm." She said as she disengaged from the hug. Mom then turned me around to face to stairs and shooed me off with a smile.

*** *** ***

"Good morning." I said cordially to the bus driver as I got on Monday morning. This driver could be a real pain if you didn't stay on his good side, so I tried my hardest.

"Morning Luke. Michael didn't get on the bus this morning, just so you know. I bet he was late again." Bob the bus driver answered. And yes, I know how ironic having a Bob the bus driver is. I guess it's better than being a builder though...

"Thank you for telling me." I said as I walked down the aisle a couple of rows to an empty seat. The ride to school was generally calm, being that most of the middle school cubs were not seated around me. The one that was did not have a partner in crime, so he refrained from the normal antics. Lazy dog I though with a smile as I looked out the window at the passing scenery. It didn't surprise me one bit to have Michael missing on the bus.

School started as it usually did on a Monday; rather dull. The teachers had their own slumps due to late-night grading. Students had weekend slumps...yep, it was Monday. Pre-AP literature dragged by while the teacher, Mrs. Johansson, struggled to get the class excited for the intro to sentence diagramming. I know she tried hard, but I, for one, refused to be exited over the diagramming of sentences. I had only one thing on my mind, and that was seeing Michael this next period in math. Then, we were lucky enough to be seated side by side. I had to try and focus a bit though, because I knew Mrs. Johansson would send some sort of worksheet home.

I walked hurriedly through the halls during passing period, hoping to get all the way across the school fast enough to have a little extra time before class started. I made it, with five minutes of free time. I waved hey to the grey fox at the teacher's desk in the corner of the room. He, by far, was the best teacher I had, which kind of threw me off since he taught math. Somehow, though, Mr. Thatcher always made the class fun.

I walked through the rows of two-seater tables to the one I shared with Michael, who was still not present. This absents did surprise me just a bit; I very rarely beat him to math, even if I hurried. _Maybe he was caught up with his last teacher or something, there's still ample time for him to show up..._I thought as I dropped my bag next to the leg of the table and sat down. I looked over at the door again as I heard a group of students coming down the hall; a few kids trickled into Thatcher's class, but none where Michael.

Michael never showed up for class. He never got sick, or at least that's what he had told me. I was really worried now...probably more than I should have been...but, hell, let a dog worry about the one he loves. The class went buy excruciatingly slow, even the Mr. Thatcher's lesson was pretty fun. I didn't have Michael to work with. He wasn't there to laugh with me. He just wasn't there at all, and it was at this time that I wished (only half-heartedly, mind you) that I didn't have such great feelings for him.

During the rest of the day, I think my mind managed to come up with every possibly reason for Michael's absents. Maybe he has a cold or the flu, possibly influenza or something slight worse was what surfaced during math. Lunch brought pneumonia maybe? Can someone develop bronchitis in a night? Maybe he got food poisoning or something from his dinner! The rest of the day, I managed to come up with many, much more drastic, causes. A great example is maybe while running home, he managed to trip and break (insert name of bone or appendage here). I was honestly as bad as a mother.

The bus ride home was calm, and rather monotonous without Michael. Walking home from the bus stop felt so strange with him not there. When I got home, I didn't have the motivation to start the homework from literacy, so I just sat in the living room and watched TV. Like the great student I am, dinner came and still no progress on the worksheet. Well, I guess I'll do it after dinner I thought as I munched some of the taco salad my dad made for dinner.

After dinner didn't work too well either. Though I had managed to get out the paper and a pencil, that was all I had accomplished. Michael was still on my brain, and I wasn't going to get anywhere until I knew he was all right and not strung up in the hospital. I dug into my pants pocket for my smart phone, unlocked it, and then went to the messaging app. *Hey Michael, you alright? I was surprised to not see you at school.*

I hoped Michael would be prompt with replying like usual, but ten minutes passed with no reply. I did manage in that time, though, to diagram one of the ten sentences. 20 minutes...no reply. I had a third the worksheet done, though I constantly looked to see if I'd gotten an answer. Finely, 56 minutes after I sent the text, I got a reply. *im fine* was all it read.

*That's good! ^_^ I was worried since you told me you rarely got sick. You'll be at school tomorrow, right?*

I completed the sixth and seventh sentences before Michael answered. *yes*, he had typed. It threw my off that he would be so bland with his answers; he'd never answered in one or two words before...Now I'm just trying to find something wrong. I really need to not worry so much about him. Finishing the worksheet, I had no erg to try to continue the conversation with Michael. I put everything back where it belonged, then got out what I would need to go shower.

*** *** ***

My heart leapt in joy when I saw Michael on the bus Tuesday morning. It fell flat fast as I realized though that someone neither of us knew shared his seat. Michael didn't even bother to look up as I got on and walked down the aisle. Luckily, the seat behind him was open, so I took that. I tapped him on the shoulder as the bus continued on. "Good morning!" I said as he turned slightly to look at me through the corner of his eye. I could see hurt flash in his eyes as I smiled at him.

"Huh...hey..." He grunted as he turned back around.

"Michael...I-"

"Luke, don't talk to me right now, ok?" Michael interrupted. His words were calm and rather icy. I stayed silent as I leaned back, away from Michael. His words had stung, but I guessed it would be smart to give him the space he asked for. I guess maybe he's still a little thrown from Sunday...

That whole day, I could get little more than a word in whenever I tried to speak to him. I didn't have Michael in any of today's classes, so I had to track him down during the passing periods. Most of the time he would just meet my eyes sullenly then walk off briskly. After he stood Natalie and me up at lunch without telling either of us, I managed to find him on his way to chemistry. Catching his shoulder with my hand, I said, "Michael, why weren't-"

"Just leave me alone!" He said with a half snarl as he shook off my hand. I stood still as he rushed off thinking to myself, His eyes...I saw hurt there. And that snarl was forced; I could tell he didn't really want to. How am I going to tell him that I'm fine with everything if he won't even let me talk to him? Is he afraid of what I'll say?

The rest of the day wasn't much better; his attitude was starting to poison my usually good attitude. I snapped at Natalie in that hall after she asked if I knew what was wrong with Michael. I apologized immediately; she just smiled and said it was fine. The bus ride home was rather sour; kids yelling and being a general annoyance mixed with seeing my friend in such a rut didn't really sit well. I couldn't even manage to make eye contact with Michael across the aisle, and he hurried home once we got to our stop. I would have tried to chase him down but I didn't think it would have helped too much.

Wednesday was no better. Michael wasn't on the bus that morning, but I knew somehow that he would be at school. He was. I saw him walking slouched down in one of the halls before school. I had math with him today, and that was another awful class. He positioned himself as far away as he could at our shared table. Making it a point to not interact with me, he never said a word. He asked furs other tables his questions, and never once looked at me. That class just left me feeling great.

Wednesdays are shortened days at our high school, so there was no lunch for Michael not to go to. Whenever I saw him the rest of the day, I didn't try to say anything like I had yesterday. I would only try to make his eyes met mine, even that didn't work. I didn't speak to him on the bus and he didn't speak to me. Today though, when he got off the bus, he didn't hurry away down the street. He just didn't acknowledge me. I walked a little behind him for five minutes before I decided I'd try once more at speaking with him. Hurriedly, as the cold wind whipped through my fur, I ran up besides and then in front of Michael. Firmly planting myself, I set both my hands on his shoulders as I began, "I don't know why you've been distant for these past few days, I can only guess. My biggest guess it that you're afraid of what I'll say about you being gay." That was as far as I got

"I-I'm..." He interjected; his voice cracking a bit as I saw a few tears slide down his cheek-fur. He stopped for a few second to try and control himself before continuing much more forcefully, "I'm...I am not! NO! I'm not!" He shoved past me and ran while his tears ran free. Shaking my head sadly, I just continued on my why home.

*** *** ***

"Michael, I have had it!" I shouted. I was done with him and his little thing he had going. It was Thursday after school; I had managed to drag Michael out of the throngs of students headed for buses, clubs, or cars.

"I-", he started to interject, but I cut him off this time.

"No, Michael, I will finish my thoughts this time." He tried hard to look indignant and angry, but all his eyes said were pain and sadness. "The only way I wouldn't know you were trying to shove me off was if I was less than a half-wit. I must say, McKray, you've done an absolutely fine job of it too." Ears folded back in rage, I carried on. "I've gotten the message, I've taken the hint. From now on, just consider me another dog you don't know. You don't have my back anymore, and I don't have yours. Simple really..."I turned with a snarl, and started to walk off, then whirled around just as fast. "Oh, and if this was all because of what I might think after Sunday, don't worry. I won't tell a soul." Leaning in close, I whispered venomously, "Your secret is safe with me." I didn't wait to see his reaction; rage bubbled inside me hotly. Storming off, I hurried to the bus.

I wasn't worried about Michael catching the bus; he could call his dad and say he got held up in a class or something. With about two minutes to spare, I hopped up the bus steps and found a seat next to some miscellaneous fur. Smugly, I settled down in the seat, the tip o my tail swishing. It had felt so good to let it out, to show Michael how he had made me feel. He deserved it...every bit of it. I thought happily. As I got off at the bus stop, I noticed the weight of all this still hung in my chest. I shrugged it aside, it just meant there was something still broken...still not right. Desperately, I wanted it to be all over; everything to be solved.

*** *** ***

What have I done? I cried out in my mind as I lay on my bed after dinner. I had thought over my confrontation with Michael again, and man was I a freakin' jerk! Michael didn't deserve any of what I said, or at least not how I said it. He as essentially told me he likes me in the more-than-friend way. I don't think he's sure whether it's right or not, and he doesn't even know I'm gay. He probably thinks he just came out to his straight-as-a-board best friend in the worst way possible. God damn...why couldn't I have thought this through sooner...I have to fix this somehow! Rolling on my side, I stared blankly at the opposite wall as I tried to think of something that could even remotely come to fixing the damage.

*** *** ***

Michael was again not at school, and I was positive it was somehow connected to me. The whole day, a barely spoke a word, not even at lunch did I string more than a sentence together, and it had been to warn Natalie of my bad attitude. Each class drug by slower than I'd ever seen. Mere seconds passing felt like hours as I sat slumped down in each class. My mind only thought of how bad Michael must have felt, and how he must feel now. I just felt so dreadful about it all.

Then, I had an idea. Just having got off the bus, I ran for Michael's house as fast as I could. He had, about three months ago, described to me where he lived. He'd told me about the small front yard with a tree in the middle, about the light blue siding that Mr. McKray planned to replace when he had the time and money, about everything. I ran, that chilly February day, as fast as I could until I found his house. I'd seen their car through the windows of the bus plenty of times when Michael had been dropped off at the bus stop, and I knew I had his house when I saw that same car.

I walked up the driveway calmly, and then followed the small path to the door. For a few seconds, I stood there contemplating whither I should really be here to talk to Michael. Not waiting from myself to say "no", I reached out and rapped the front door a couple of times. After another several seconds, I heard the jiggle of the door handle and saw Mr. McKray open the door with his ears pricked quizzically. "Uh...hello. Can I ask who you are?" he asked while I stood there. I had managed to completely forget that he had never met me...

"Oh, yes! Hello, I'm Luke Turner. I am Michael's friend." I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach when I said "friend".

"Ah, I see. Michael has told me about you before. Now, can I ask what you are doing here?"

"Uh, well..." I had to think up some excuse that would at least seem accurate. "Since today is Friday; one of Michael's teachers wanted me to bring him some work that needs to be done over the weekend. It's a little complicated, so I need to explain it to him also. Is it okay of I come in and do that?"

It didn't take him long to reply, "Yes, that is completely fine." He waved me inside, "Come on in." I thanked him as I stepped inside. After whipping my feet off, he led me through the living room. A wall that only went about three-fourths of the way to the ceiling separated the living room and the kitchen. Next to the entrance into the kitchen was a hallway. Mr. McKray stopped in front of it and pointed towards the back. "His room is the last door on the right. He has his radio up pretty loud so you might need to knock pretty hard."

"Thank you again!" I said as I walked briskly down the hall. I could hear the music just a little before I got to the door. It was Metal Rock. Hmm...I didn't think Michael really liked this kind of stuff. It didn't seem too important though, so I set my bag down gently by the door. I wasn't going to knock, he'd never let me in if he knew. Instead, I slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open as quietly as possible. It worked, and he didn't notice me; He wasn't even facing the door.

He sat calmly on the side of his bed looking out the window into the backyard. His back was to me since the door and window were on opposite sides. The setting sun shone brightly into the room, making his fur glow. It was all very serene, though the music didn't match very well. I stood in the doorway silently for a minute or two, simple taking in Michael's beauty. He didn't move; I didn't move.

Finally, Michael brought up his right hand ever so delicately, and I saw that his hand gripped something. His breath quickened ever so slightly, and I wondered to myself why he couldn't smell me. Curiously, I stepped forward slightly to see what he held. I nearly choked. Clasped in his hand was a very long, thin, and sharp knife; the kind that cut meat very well. Reason escaped my head as I saw his arm point the knife inward and tense. I jumped forward, faster than I thought possible, and caught his hand.

Michael turned wide-eyed towards me, and I saw the thick cry lines down his cheek-fur. Forcefully, I ripped the knife out of his hand and tossed it aside. Looking at the still-speechless Michael, I couldn't believe that he had already tried to do meet with the blade once before. A large dark blot sat on his shirt, just about where one's heart would be. I hadn't planned for this...I'd barely had a plan at all! I wasn't sure what to say at all...so I did the very first thing my mind came up with.

I tackled Michael down onto his bed and kissed him deeply. Being caught with surprise, he didn't resist. While we kissed, I hugged him close; his body fitting perfectly with mine. A tear slowly slid down my cheek as we embraced; after years of being closed off and months of unreturned love-at-first-sight, I had been freed