What if they were the “people being gay is going to destroy us all” extreme? They’d never even discussed homosexuality. Galloway’s parents were, like most everybody else in town, devout Christians. He’d denied it for so long, they thought he was kidding. Then he took a deep, shaky breath and came out to two friends he’d met-which itself seemed a miracle, in tiny Benton, Illinois-who were openly gay. Except it was drawing him to other guys.Īt the end of sophomore year, Galloway broke up with the girlfriend, giving no real explanation. “You’re gay!” they taunted, and every time he slammed back, “No, I’m not!”īut he’d started feeling that tingly, magnetic pull, that extra charge of energy he’d heard in his friends’ voices. Patiently she waited for that first kiss. They held hands for six months it was all he wanted to do. When he reached high school, the bullying eased, and he dutifully found his first girlfriend. “Oh yeah, she’s hot,” he’d echo, without the same…gusto. Then it got even better: The other guys in his class started talking about girls. In middle school, Curtis Galloway was a little heavy, he was in the gifted art class, he had odd hobbies (he’d started a ghost-hunting club), and he was in band.
