Brainiac and the Yolo Bro

By U. M. Lassiter

High school sophomore Ryan Miyashi doesn’t know what to think—he’s completely taken with a handsome, strapping transfer student from Texas named Tanner. Ryan is a long way from the self-confidant adult we know from the Growing Lad series. His problem is that despite being a gifted student, he’s painfully shy and he hasn’t told anyone but his brother that he likes boys. Ryan is secretly crushing on Tanner big time, and watching the way Tanner effortlessly makes friends with everyone including gay students ties his heart up in knots. Ryan starts to hope that maybe they have something in common, but Tanner is erratic and moody and is driving Ryan crazy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eXtasy Books Inc
• Release date: Feb 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781771117814

Book preview

Ryan really likes the new guy Tanner—except for when he wants to kill him.

High school sophomore Ryan Miyashi doesn’t know what to think—he’s completely taken with a handsome, strapping transfer student from Texas named Tanner. Ryan is a long way from the self-confidant adult we know from the Growing Lad series. His problem is that despite being a gifted student, he’s painfully shy and he hasn’t told anyone but his brother that he likes boys. Ryan is secretly crushing on Tanner big time, and watching the way Tanner effortlessly makes friends with everyone including gay students ties his heart up in knots. Ryan starts to hope that maybe they have something in common, but Tanner is erratic and moody and is driving Ryan crazy.

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Brainiac and the Yolo Bro

Copyright © 2014 U.M. Lassiter

ISBN: 978-1-77111-781-4

Cover art by Latrisha Waters

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by Devine Destinies

An imprint of eXtasy Books

Look for us online at:

www.devinedestinies.com

Smashwords Edition

Brainiac and the Yolo Bro

Berkeley Daze Book One

By

U.M. Lassiter

Dedication

To nerds everywhere, may you blossom and grow.

Chapter One

Hey, Brainiac! Don’t forget to wear your tutu tomorrow!

My face was red with rage and embarrassment as the insufferable stooges that hung out with Nick Campbell laughed like hyenas at Nick’s so-called joke. I turned and walked away, my jaw clenched and my lip quivering, fighting back tears.

Okay, you’re saying, back the truck up. You can’t just drop a line like that out of nowhere, you say. Sure I can—it’s my book and I can do what I want.

It’s what they call in the book biz a hook. It gets the reader interested enough to get past the first page—which is why I’d better get back to the story.

Um—right after I tell you a little more about why I’m writing this. My boyfriend and all-around dreamboat Alex finally let me read his story about how we got together. Not bad for a kid, if I do say so. After reading it, I shared a few stories of my own squandered youth and he convinced me to write them down. He found it a little hard to believe that I was ever anything other than the confident, self assured and stunningly-good-looking fellow he knows today. So, like nearly everything else I do these days, this is for Alex.

You’ll never catch your Prince Charming dressed like that, Nick went on. He pushed past me in the hallway, making sure to bump into me as he went.

I was just fifteen, and a sophomore at William Sproule Preparatory High School. Sproule High is a goodish-size private prep in Berkeley, California. It was named for some old fart that was a railroad president or something, and his widow gave a lot of money to the school and other places to get his name plastered on just about everything.

It was a good school—exclusive and expensive, with a well-known athletic program and progressive academics, and I was lucky to be there. My family is pretty well off—Dad scored a major windfall by being an early investor in a tech start-up. Not a gazillionaire or anything, but enough that we were very, very comfortable.

Berkeley is just across the bay from San Francisco, and you’d think that being in a very expensive prep school in a liberal town adjacent to the gayest city in the world, a kid like me wouldn’t have to worry too much about bullying. Well, I’ll let you in on a secret. Bullies don’t pick on gay kids because they’re homophobes or haters, they pick on gay kids because they’re bullies. They think they’re showing off in front of their buddies. Gay kids just happen to be vulnerable.

So when you happen to have a guy with a natural-born mean streak, gay kids just happen to be the low-hanging fruit, so to speak.

What made it ten times worse was the fact I hadn’t come out. By the time I was fourteen, I was pretty certain which team I was playing on, and it scared the hell out of me.

Gay people are pretty much a fact of life in that part of the country, and they range from the stereotypical nearly-naked guy shaking his booty on a pride parade float, to incredibly ordinary-looking stuffy banker types. What I just couldn’t wrap my head around was how with anyone I’d ever known or met, once I learned they were gay, in my mind that was how I defined them. As far as I knew, everybody did that. I couldn’t let that happen to me. No, no, no.

I really didn’t know if Nick, or anyone else for that matter, thought I was gay. Like so many bullies, for Nick, gay was just shorthand for different. The all-purpose pejorative, you might say.

Breathing heavily through my clenched teeth, I ran off. I ran until I came to my usual hiding place—a little-used boy’s restroom behind the school auditorium. I locked the door, leaned against the wall, slumped to the floor and started crying.

After a few minutes, I pulled myself together and rinsed off my face in the sink. Sproule had a handful of openly gay students. How did they do it? How did they live their lives with the constant stares, the whispers, the cutting remarks? I looked at my face in the mirror, trying to will away the redness and puffiness from around my eyes. What a runt, I thought. Back then, I was the classic ninety-eight-pound weakling, barely knocking on puberty’s door.

Enough foolishness, I told myself. Time to get to my next class. I took a deep breath, stifled a hiccup (I always get the hiccups after I cry), unlocked the door and set out for my locker. I was late for my calculus class. Mr. Wells was sure to rip my ass when I got there. He’d probably give me detention.

I’d just about pulled myself together by the time I retrieved my calc textbook and homework from my locker. I swung the door shut and gave the knob a twirl.

Mr. Myashi…

It was Miss Neely, my English teacher.

You should be in class, she said.

Um…yes ma’am, I answered softly. It was still a little hard to keep my voice steady. I was in the restroom. I…uh…wasn’t feeling well. Her brow furrowed with concern as