East Tennessee

I was shocked and devastated when dad told us the news. He had gotten a new surveying job good for at least five years, and since there aren't a lot of career advancements for geologists he had taken the offer immediately. So we would all move to some shit town in East Tennessee. Mom would teach kids whatever hadn't been banned knowledge by the state, my little sister would continue elementary there, and I would spend my high school years in some backwater school with barely any students. I distinctly remember staring at the remainder of the mash on my plate, and how unappetizing it had turned as the news was told to me. They wanted to make all the preparations before they told us to "not worry us" in case it fell through.

I asked if I could be excused and left the table, the parents, the plate, the mash and walked to my room without waiting for a reply. Perhaps there was one. I didn't care. I just had to talk to Timothy. I just lied in bed with a headset on and talked and cursed and cried with him on the other side of our private discord chat room. They didn't know I had a boyfriend. They didn't even know I was gay, and I saw no point in telling them either. We wouldn't stay, I couldn't bring Tim with me, and given where we were heading I probably couldn't be openly gay either. It was just best if no one knew. We both knew this would be the end for us. We would be living states apart during our most hormone-filled years. If we still felt the same for each other in three years, once it was time for college, then perhaps we could try to get together, but I thought it was just cruel to keep him waiting while we grew apart. He didn't see it like that of course. He wanted to be the harbor I could sail back to after three years of exile, but I've read enough Greek mythology to know how that ends. Black sails and drownings.

They'd done a lot of work behind our backs, our parents, so only six weeks later, just after school closed for summer we packed our shit into the back of a semi. Our last night at the only house I've ever lived in was spent sleeping on the floor. Early next morning we packed ourselves into our car and begun our three-day journey to East Tennessee. By the time we arrived at our much bigger house and much smaller town the moving company had already placed our stuff in the different rooms. Still in boxes though, except for the furniture. I didn't go to bed until three in the morning, and probably tossed around all night unable to sleep. I must have, because mum woke me up around nine.

I went with dad to town to check it out. We of course had a long list of stuff we needed to get, but I wanted to see what stores and fast food places were around. It wasn't the local businesses that caught my eye though. Everywhere I looked I just saw smoking hot guys. Tight wrangler blue jeans, cut off shirts or flannels, and Ford or Chevy ball caps. Most of all though people had the kind of look you get from working outdoors. Tanned skin, sun-bleached hair, and lean muscles. I followed dad around all the shops on our list, hoping no one would notice my boner.

That's when I decided what I had to do: go undercover as a redneck. Two-thirds of my wardrobe had to go. I didn't know if my west coast apparel would go down as hip or attract bullying, so I spent the next week looking at guys my age and really taking note of what they were wearing. What brands? What colors? What haircuts? When I felt confident I knew the essence of the look I begged mum for new clothes, without telling her why. She relented and allowed me a few items, so I could combine them with what I already had to pass as local.

The day after, luckily after the nearest barber had made an excellent job in turning my well-styled but now far too long hair into a hair helmet, I found out that a neighbor one street away was about my age. Dylan was one year older and his summer plans had fallen apart. His best friend had to leave to visit some ill relative, so he was happy to show me around. When his friend Jackson came back a week later we all spent the rest of the summer doing things together. Swimming, basket, trekking. All things I hated doing back home and suck at, but somehow they thought it made it even funnier, and they were really proud whenever I progressed.

I couldn't believe how lucky I was when school started. Not only didn't Dylan mind driving me there, in fact he suggested it, but knowing a sophomore as a freshman basically made me bully-proof. Not that I really had to worry. We were all new to high school, and only about half of my class knew each other from before. We had people from the creeks and shitholes all around town bussed in as well. No one even suspected I wasn't from nearby until we had to introduce ourselves. Some people were excited and wanted to know more about how life was at the coast, but in the end it wasn't a big deal. It wasn't until I got home, reliving the day in my head, I realized all that time with Dylan and Jackson had turned my accent into passable enough East Tennessee local.

The school was small enough that you could basically join whatever sports team you signed up for, at least as freshman. It was more a question of what training times were compatible. I ended up joining the football and soccer teams. Somehow soccer turned out to be the more competitive out of the two, with the school soccer team doing well against other schools. I hadn't expected that.

Once it was getting close to thanksgiving Jackson asked me if I was interested in some extra cash. One of the stores needed more people for restocking and was desperate to fill it ahead of the holidays. The schedule clashed with soccer practice, but it was probably wise to stick to just one team anyway. And the 70 lbs repeated lifting requirement promised some bonus exercise that would be wasted on the soccer.

It wasn't all roses and touchdowns though. Nothing is as unguarded as the shit talk in the locker room after a loss, so I got to know what most of the guys really thought. I can think of several individuals who would beat me bloody if they knew they had been in a shower room with a gay. What I heard from some of the real employees at the store was even worse, narrow-minded exclusion politics. I wasn't even sure how Dylan would react. I decided to follow the plan, get good grades so I could get far away, and do my best to blend in. Learn to ride with Coleson, shoot AR-15 with Eric's dad, get the best body I could, and count down to leaving.

That was three years ago, before I was accepted into college. I considered bringing all the old clothes with me when coming out of the closet, but I realized they no longer fit in any sense of the word. I decided to show up at the dorm wearing the state national dress, tight wrangler blue jeans, cutoff T, and ballcap. It's good I did, because no matter how fucking hard I try I can't speak anything but rural East Tennessee. The disguise got stuck. What I didn't expect was the reception when I went to the first student gay party. The guy on bouncer duty was very hesitant to let me in, fearing I would start some homophobic shit the first chance I got, but once inside it was a different thing. Turns out quite a lot of them would fancy being fucked by a quarterback while being spoken to in southern.