"Who's this kid?"

That's the first thing he said the day we met. I was sitting with my friends Anna and Heather in our high school's auditorium. Some rally or lecture was getting ready to start. I had been joking around with the girls, but quickly shut up when he collapsed into his seat and threw me a caustic look.

Who was I? Nobody.

He his name was Warren. I had been watching him for months; I'm pretty sure this was the first time he'd ever noticed me. Warren was unlike anyone I had ever met. He dyed his hair with Kool-Aid and did drugs and when his dad kicked him out of his house he spent several weeks living in the treehouse in Heather's back yard. He mouthed off to teachers. He played guitar and wrote songs. His humor was dark and cutting. My best friend's brother had warned me that Warren was gay; he'd been dating Anna for a while, so I doubted that was true.

Over the next year, Warren and I would become good friends. He taught me how to use a Coke can to smoke marijuana. I gave him rides from Anna's house back to his dad's place. He gave me my first blowjob...

(To be continued)