The Gay Gatsby

Chapter 17: Calla-Gay and Chance Fight the Forces of Evil (Teenagers)

Content warning: Homophobia and homophobic slurs present in this chapter.

Authors Note: Alright this marks my tenth chapter that has been updated every week in a row. It also marks my 50,000th word in this story!

But with that, I have to inform you that my updates will be less frequent now due to the fact that I am starting school again on Monday. I apologize for this, but it's inevitable. Unfortunately, I have a life other than this story and it's about to get a lot busier. I hope you guys will understand!

Chapters will probably be posted every two weeks now, unless I notify otherwise!

Okay, enough rambling, enjoy!

Chapter 17: Calla-Gay and Chance Fight the Forces of Evil (Teenagers)

"Calmness wasn't an end in itself."

- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Chance

I stood expectantly by Ms. Riley's desk on Monday. I watched as students filed out the door of the classroom.

A few people smiled at me as they caught my eye. Though, most looked at me for a moment before abruptly turning away, frown imminent on their lips. It was unsettling, but I knew it was largely due to the drastic decrease of my social status within the past week.

People had continued the rumors about me and Callaway, but somehow they had gotten worse. Not only did people believe that Callaway and I were in secret homosexual relationship, but people had begun to believe that we were in a polyamorous relationship with Aly; some type of screwed up threesome.

Why anyone would think that was beyond my comprehension, but it was incredibly disturbing. I figured that the rumor was relatively new. It was probably ignited by the fact that Aly had sat with Callaway and I at lunch.

The three of us had sat near the rear of the cafeteria, hoping that we wouldn't get unwarranted attention. Which failed. The whispers of the students had us encased like bodies in a casket, and my skin had itched with the distinct glare of the peers surrounding me.

It had been awful. Even ignoring the fact that Aly had been talking at Callaway nonstop for the entirety of the lunch hour. She had questioned Callaway endlessly on inane subjects in an attempt at friendliness. And Callaway had had none of it.

"What do you want to do when you're older?"

"Not die."

"What's your brother like?"

"Dick-ish."

"What's your favorite class?"

"The Bourgeoisie."

"What's your favorite color?"

"You're joking, right?"

"No, tell me your favorite color."

"Fine. Period blood red."

Unsurprisingly, Aly had looked horrified at that and had discontinued her inquiring.

So all in all, lunch had been quite terrible, but mildly entertaining. I was almost glad to be in English class talking to Ms. Riley.

I tapped my foot absently as I waited for her to "speak with me privately."

I surveyed as she fumbled with some papers on her desk, scratching at them with a pen. And judging by the mild expression of terror on her face, I presumed she was correcting the essays for 'The Great Gatsby'. The one that Callaway and I had refrained from writing, thus igniting our unconventional friendship.