It was spring, we were eighteen, we were seniors, and we were on top of the world. I had finally come to the realization that I was interested in men, and had given up all pretenses of dating the girls in my class. To that point, however, my only male-to-male contact had been in my dreams, and I had worn out my hands living out those fantasies.

I had a friend who was also gay, and he had come across some gay porn magazines and a gay novel, which he shared with me, so I knew what I wanted to do. I just didn’t have anyone to do it with. And I was frustrated beyond belief.

My school was an elite, private school filled with the youth of the rich and beautiful of the city. Ultra-conservative and Christian based, it was not the breeding ground for a young gay man who was eager to embrace his sexuality with a handsome fellow student.

Among other pursuits, I belonged to a small 24-member chorus that represented the best of the larger chorale. Our group, The Ensemble, traveled extensively, singing our lungs out for whoever would listen. I didn’t have the greatest singing voice in the world, but because the Director liked me, he had appointed me to the sound crew so that I would be able to be part of the group. To this day, the experience ranks among the most fond of my youth.

The sound crew was made up of three of us. Bill and I were seniors, and Frank, a junior, would be the lead of the crew the following year. Frank was goofy and not particularly attractive, but we were friendly. I always thought of him as nerdy, but many years later, I met him at a reunion and realized that he had turned into quite the charmer. His wife thought so, anyway.

Bill, on the other hand, was by far the most strikingly handsome boy in our senior class. He was popular, friendly, and everyone knew and liked him. We had not moved in the same circle before the Ensemble formed for the first time right before the beginning of our senior year, so I didn’t know much about him. In spite of his rugged masculinity and his reputation with the more popular crowd, we struck up a friendship.

Bill and I spent a lot of time together as the Ensemble’s season began. Frank, the only one who was really committed to the task at hand, always spent his time rigging the equipment so we didn’t seem much of him, and it gave the two of us a lot of time alone to get to know each other. Huddled quietly in the back of the school auditorium, we watched the Ensemble rehearse and monitored the sound equipment. And we talked. About everyone and everything.

Over the first few months of the school year, we had a rather intensive performance calendar, so rehearsals were grueling and often. All we had to do was set up the equipment and sit back and watch while the singers learned their music. During these long evenings after school, I learned a lot about Bill. He was straight, but not attached, nor had he dated much. He was kind of quiet and shy, and in spite of his broad shoulders, smooth but muscular frame, perfectly straight and densely auburn hair and his piercing blue eyes, he had not spent much time with girls.

We shared our lives