Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Author Extra: My Life as a Myth by Huston Piner

My Life as a Myth by Huston Piner

1969 freshman Nick Horton has problems. He suffers from bouts of
depression, he’s a high school social outcast, and he doesn’t understand why
he’s not attracted to girls. So when a series of misunderstandings label him
a troublemaker, he’s delighted to have Jesse Gaston and Jesse's gang
befriend him. Nick wants to explore his attraction to Bobby Warren, but
Jesse promises to give him a new image and soon transforms the shy loser
into an anti-establishment student hero.

Thanks to his new reputation, Nick finds himself besieged by would-be
girlfriends and expectations that he live up to his public image. As Jesse’s
PR campaign becomes more and more outrageous, Nick’s road quickly becomes
littered with ridiculous misadventures and unexpected psychedelic
explorations. Meanwhile he struggles to understand his emerging romance with
Bobby while dealing with the Vietnam War’s continuing impact on his family
and the dangerous goings-on at school.

Nick’s freshman year is a remarkable journey of struggle with his unwanted
reputation and his deepening passion for Bobby. Is a world still reeling
from the sexual revolution, Acid Rock, and the illicit pleasures of underage
drinking and pot smoking ready to accept two boys in love? Will Nick and
Bobby’s love survive or will the world’s prejudices drive them apart?

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Author Extra:

I woke up sometime after dawn. I was on my back and Bobby lay on his side
with his left leg draped over me and an arm wrapped snuggly around me. As I
came to, I realized we were both uncovered, he was naked, and we both had
hard-ons. His rested on my thigh. Completely embarrassed, I began a slow
delicate process to untangle us without waking him. 

After I freed myself, I hurried to the bathroom, quietly closed the door,
and raised the lid just in time to explode. I stood there shivering until I
was completely drained and flushed the toilet. The bathroom had a small
walk-in shower with a sliding door. I got in before the water fully heated
up and let it flow over me to ensure I was fully awake.

I dried my hair with the damp towel. Bobby had rolled over and snored
quietly, now clutching a pillow. I finished dressing and watched him sleep
for a minute, taking in how perfect he is from head to toe. My God, he's
beautiful, I thought, and I felt myself stiffen. It took me a couple of
minutes to tear myself away from just admiring him. There are some things
you just know you'll remember all your life and I knew right then that even
when I'm a hundred, remembering him sleeping like that will bring out the
same feelings in me. 

The fridge had no juice, but I did find a pitcher of tea. Outside on the
landing at the top of the stairs, the morning air was brisk but not too
chilly. I left the door open both to let in a little fresh air, and so Bobby
would see me when he woke up. 

The morning light dazzled me. The tea had a nice calming effect. My mind
wandered as I took in the activities of the squirrels and the birds that had
not flown south yet. I tried to make myself one with the morning, to
experience cosmic awareness, but I ended up daydreaming. 

Sometime later Bobby hurried for the bathroom like I had after I became
vertical. He also showered and when he came out he unabashedly rearranged
himself as he came to where I sat on the landing. He either didn't notice me
staring or didn't care.

"Good morning, starshine," I said. 

"Good morning. You sleep okay?" He smiled and leaned against the doorpost.

"Like a rock."

Bonus Author Extra:

Friday, September 5, 1969.

Second period is undoubtedly the class I dread the most -- Physical
Education. I'm not very coordinated, and I've never been very good at
sports, even jacks. And PE is different from just playing a game with other
kids; you actually get graded on it. And that's not the worst of it.

PE students first gather in the locker room to change into workout clothes.
For me, this is awkward. See, in my family, nudity just doesn't exist. I'm
pretty sure my parents were both born fully clothed and still shower that

If a guy thinks you're looking at him too long, or in the wrong place, he'll
go out of his way to humiliate you. If you blush easily, it's open season,
and if your … uh … body reacts the wrong way, God help you. The trouble is
sometimes when a guy makes me nervous that's exactly my problem. I tend to
be nervous enough as it is, but we have thirty-three guys in our class. The
way some of them show off makes me very nervous. Talk about embarrassing!
You'd think "faggot" was my name! Today, I just tried to keep my head down,
change fast, and get out of there.

The right teacher could put a stop to this kind of thing. But there are only
two kinds of PE teachers in the world. The first kind is like Jack Lalanne,
super fit, and a firm believer that everyone should eat enough fiber to
orgasm every time they shit. 

The second kind is descended from the Marquis de Sade. These guys get off
pushing the athletic types to the limits of their abilities while they
humiliate the rest of us lesser beings. 

Our PE teacher, Mr. Starkman, is the second kind. 

I've already suffered through a week and a half of his taunts and put downs
so far. I just can't throw, catch, kick, hit, or keep up with the rest of
the guys. And the more I fail, the more he pushes, and the worse I get.

Today was the perfect example. While I attempted to shoot a hoop for the
fifth time, Mr. Starkman yelled at me. Needless to say, I missed the hoop
and backboard completely. Instead, the ball bounced off the wall and hit
Jason Sullivan in the back of his head so hard his glasses flew off and
broke on the floor. After that, Mr. Starkman banished me to the weight room.

Solitary. Just what I need, more "evidence" for everyone that I'm a

What I wouldn't give to be one of the jocks or Straight-A students; the
popular kids get all the breaks. Everybody loves them and they get to do
what they want. Everything I do backfires so I spend most of my time just
trying to avoid embarrassing myself.
Oh, on a positive note, my black eye is looking better. 

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