![]() “So, are you a pitcher or a catcher?” he would ask, and I would do my best to dodge his questions. For the next couple days in chemistry, Max bombarded me with questions about being gay, still under the veil of doubting my homosexuality, and making a joke of it. ![]() “Well maybe,” I said, “but not in the middle of chemistry class, with the teacher watching right over there.”įair enough, Max said, sitting down. “If you were gay, you would kiss me!” Max leaned over the table and prepared his lips. “Wouldn’t a straight person be just as capable of kissing you?” I asked. She sheepishly confirmed that I was gay, but this was not quite enough for Max, who said, “If you’re gay, kiss me.” One of my lab partners, Max, scurried over to my ex-girlfriend at another lab table and asked her to confirm that it was true that I was gay. My lab partners, however, refused to believe me, since I had dated (and was infamous for having had sex with) a girl in that class for over a year. (Honestly, I enjoyed the attention I got when I came out to the very liberal people in my class). ![]() I wasn’t really good friends with either of these two guys, so it was pretty easy to tell them I was gay. One day, I was standing at a lab table titrating sodium hydroxide into lemon juice when I decided to come out to my two lab partners. When I first came out to people at my high school, some people were skeptical.
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