OZ
March, 1980: Ozymandius bounced the basketball onto the asphalt. He made shots in quick succession, scoring on almost all of them. His spirits started to lighten as he dribbled in the early October air, faking and shooting. The brisk chill in the air and the rich smells of leaves and almost-snow elevated his previously dispirited mood. “Those guys are wrong-I’m no wuss! Hell, I’m in the NBA! Oz pushed his long, wispy blond hair out of his eyes and continued, “Man. Just because I’m no macho dude talking about boobs all the time— that doesn’t mean I’m inferior. I’m gay! So what! He felt like spitting in the face of a particularly mean kid named Rob, who had knocked him down in the hall early today. He couldn’t be the only gay kid in the school. Someone understood what he was going through. There were other gay people, he was sure there were-not that he knew any. There had to be! A little more melancholy now, Oz began to head off the school’s basketball court.
The playgrounds and courts were empty because school hadn’t quite let out yet. Oz had cut school early, knowing no of the guys would want to share the courts with him later. He took one more shot and was about to pick up his book bag when a pack of boys from his grade approached. “Ozzy boy!