Caleb and Porn at Gay Conversion Camp
The Bad Stuff, Chapter Three
Nobody said nuthin to me the next morning, so I thought maybe they forgot me or changed their minds.
I had a hard time concentrating on my algebra, though, cause I wondered if it was true about what the kids said they did to you there.
Then when I was was eating my chicken salad sandwich for lunch, I took a bite, looked up, and Brother John was staring down at me, the white flakes on his suit collar as thick as ever.
“Hurry up,” he told me. “We don’t want to keep them waiting for us at the clinic.”
The clinic. I couldn’t eat any more of my sandwich. Not even the chocolate Twinkie. My stomach felt funny, and not the good funny like when Travis used to wave at me.
I was scared.
All the kids at the school hated the clinic. It’s where you went to get cured if the sessions didn’t work. My roommate Matt said I better do the sessions right. He went to the clinic all the time. Maybe three times a week.
Sometimes at night, him sleeping in the top bunk, I’d hear him having bad dreams. Or maybe he wasn’t dreaming. Maybe he was crying for real.
Matt walked and talked like a girl mostly. He got yelled at all the time for it. I asked him why he…
