tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79806845641176113602024-03-13T08:55:38.526-07:00Stay With MeWilliam, a questioning high school basketball player goes to a Gay Straight Alliance (GSA) meeting where he meets Shane an openly gay student who challenges the status quo. After Shane is attacked for his homosexuality and struggles with the effects William begins to question if he could do the same. Updated weekly.Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-34168380731556214152014-10-26T13:45:00.000-07:002014-11-16T14:43:26.933-08:00Pt 18 Stay With Me - Shirt Vs. SkinsShane hid between the lockers with his back to the wall. There was no response from William and he was certain there wouldn’t be one. He had seen him with his friends. He had seen the basketball and the way they were goofing around. He knew what they were up to and he was jealous.<br />
<br />
Against his better judgment Shane found himself walking in the opposite direction he normally walked home after school, down to the basketball courts where he could already hear the thud of the ball and the shouts of the players. He walked to the fence where he could make out the two teams, skins and shirts. William was on the skins. <br />
<br />
He smirked at the sight but corrected himself quickly and masked his interest with his face of disinterest. It was a practiced face. He moved closer, took hold of the chain link. William was easy to spot being one of the tallest.<br />
<br />
Shirtless, Shane at last could see his muscled body. He noted the young man’s biceps and developed chest that had a slight amount of hair. William was an aggressive player and his muscles flexed with every movement. This would be erotic if it weren’t so damn frustrating, he thought. He wished for a moment he could be on the other side but then the boys noticed him there and he felt panic. <br />
<br />
There’s the faggot, he thought. It was only a matter of time before they began to taunt him, before they called him names. It was only a matter of time and he could do nothing more but grunt. He thought about his last fight. He thought about the hospital. He rubbed at his chin. <br />
<br />
They were faster, stronger, and more aggressive. He swallowed and stepped back from the fence before he turned away and began to walk. He wished William would call out to him. He wished William would come running.<br />
<br />
Those things didn’t happen in real life, he told himself. Fantasy is another disappointment, there should be no expectations. He just kept moving one foot after another until they were all behind him. <br />
<br />
He wished he didn’t feel so vulnerable. He wished there was some way to defend himself. Other people want guns and knives, baseball bats, but he told himself it shouldn’t have to come to that. No, he needed something else. That’s when he thought of taking Karate lessons.<br />
<br />
It didn’t take him long to get home. When he did he dropped his bag by the door and kicked off his shoes before he went to find his mother in the living room doing needle point. He found a piece of paper and a marker then moved to sit beside her.<br />
<br />
“How are you today?” she asked.<br />
<br />
He grunted and shrugged his shoulders before he pulled off the cap and writing out a short message. He held it up for her. It was a request to take Karate.<br />
<br />
“Oh, honey,” she said.<br />
<br />
She reached for his head, ran her fingers through his hair, until he pulled away. He held the paper so she could see it clearly and tapped against it with the marker. She frowned and put down what she had been doing.<br />
<br />
“We’ll talk about it with your father,” she said.<br />
<br />
He dropped the paper and marker on the coffee table before he got up with a grunt. His one good thought seemed to be defeated. But what could he have expected from her? He turned and walked away from her, retrieved his bag, and climbed the stairs to his room where he tossed his bag on his bed and instinctively pulled out his phone to check for messages.<br />
<br />
There could only be one person who would text me and he’s on the basketball court trying not to be a homosexual, he thought. I’m such a fool. He tossed the phone next to his bag and went to his computer for some kind of escape.<br />
<br />
Hours later as he was involved in a game his mother called to him from downstairs. He pulled off his headphones and paused the game before he got up and went back down to find both of his parents in the living room. He stepped into the doorway.<br />
<br />
“Hello there,” his father said.<br />
<br />
Shane raised his hand to signal hello before he stuck both of his hands in his pockets and began to rock on his feet. <br />
<br />
“Your mother showed me your note. We’re not sure if it’s a good idea. It’s a lot of training and I’m not sure how useful it would be.”<br />
<br />
Shane grunted.<br />
<br />
“What I mean is I had another idea. It’s actually something I’ve been thinking about for some time. I was thinking you could take self-defense classes. It wouldn’t be about black belts and all of that. It would be practical.”<br />
<br />
Shane lifted his eyebrows and the thought. He hadn’t thought of something so simple. He had thought of action movies. Self-defense could be useful, he thought. He nodded to them.<br />
<br />
“Come here,” his father said.<br />
<br />
Shane walked to them. Each gave him a hug. <br />
<br />
“Maybe your brother can go too,” his mother said.<br />
<br />
Shane rolled his eyes.Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-49278933299967800582014-10-26T12:54:00.003-07:002014-10-26T13:44:34.092-07:00Pt 17 Stay With Me - Breaking HeartsAs close as they felt hugging each other William felt impossibly far away the next morning when he awoke to find himself in his own bed, his own house. There was a lot to lose for him by coming out and graduation from high school was so close. He felt that he had worked too hard to give it up now, over something he felt, something he couldn’t define, something people didn’t respect. It was a flaw to be gay, he thought. And what is gay anyway? It’s a label. <br />
<br />
And maybe he wasn’t gay anyway, maybe he was bisexual. It was a lot to give up, a lot to risk over something he doubted, but then he thought about Shane. He thought about the feeling of his warm body and the way he wanted to stay there in his embrace, but it wouldn’t last. Shane was a Freshman. He was a graduating Senior. He was going off to college. <br />
<br />
He forced those thoughts to the back of his mind. He threw aside his covers and got up from his bed, rubbed at his eyes, and went through the motions of getting ready for school. Forty-five minutes later his mind was empty as he drove. It was an easy familiar route and he got there five minutes earlier than usual so he got a better parking spot, but he had time to kill.<br />
<br />
The thoughts returned so he opened his car door and got out, started walking. He circled the high school, by the time he got back to the entrance he found people had gathered. He went to his usual spot, leaned against the wall. He was ready for another day. Then his pocket vibrated. It was his phone. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the message.<br />
<br />
<Good morning. Want to hang out after school?><br />
<br />
William looked around at the other students before he shrugged his shoulders. He pulled up a response.<br />
<br />
<Yeah sure> - William<br />
<br />
<It’ll be fun> - Shane<br />
<br />
<I’m looking forward to it.> - William<br />
<br />
He adjusted the settings for his phone so it wouldn’t make a sound and wouldn’t vibrate, then put it back in his pocket. They need a ‘school’ setting instead of an ‘airplane’ setting, he thought.<br />
<br />
After four years, well more actually, it all felt so routine for William. He made it through the day without thinking too much. By eighth period the last thirty minutes felt like torture. He decided to hurry them along and asked for the hallway pass. In the hall he checked both directions, picked a direction and began to walk. He pulled out his phone as he did. There were two messages from Shane and two messages from Josh. <br />
<br />
<We should watch a movie> - Shane<br />
<br />
<We should go for a walk, maybe go to the park> - Shane<br />
<br />
<Want to play some basketball?> - Josh<br />
<br />
<After school. At the basketball courts. be there or be gay> - Josh<br />
<br />
William groaned at the last message before he stopped and moved to the lockers. It was meant as a joke, yet it burned as if it had been said in person. He felt like crushing his phone with his bare hands but stopped himself, took a deep breath. He leaned back against them and pulled up a response to Shane.<br />
<br />
<Sorry can’t make it. Something came up. Maybe some other time.> - William<br />
<br />
He put the phone away and continued on his errand. After he had used the restroom, on his way back, he thought about checking his phone but didn’t. He wanted to be with Shane and he wanted to be with Josh for very different reasons.<br />
<br />
When he got back to class he managed to block the thoughts out until the end of the period. He knew he was supposed to go to the basketball courts, but really he wanted to be with Shane. He walked back to his locker, dropped his books inside, and locked it. He thought about basketball, a good distraction, he thought. He took a deep breath and puffed up his shoulders, but then he saw Shane at the end of the hallway with his phone in his hand. He saw Shane type, then look up. He wondered for a moment why his phone didn’t go off before he remembered the settings. He took it out and checked the message.<br />
<br />
<What’s going on?> Shane<br />
<br />
He thought about lying. He tried to think of some good excuse. All of it was possible until he felt someone grab hold of him from behind, someone else slapped him on the ass, and he let out a yell. It was Josh and his other friends from the basketball team.<br />
<br />
“Come on homo, let’s go shoot some hoops,” Josh said.<br />
<br />
William smiled and looked amongst his teammates as they grouped around him. He tried to look past their heads to Shane but he quickly lost track of him. <br />
<br />
“Last one there is captain of the skins team,” Josh said.<br />
<br />
They all began to run. William looked one last time for Shane but couldn’t find him so he broke into a jog, readied himself to slow if a teacher saw him, but it was short distance to an exit, and there he broke into a run to try and catch up to his teammates.<br />
<br />Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-76400766325058021112013-02-11T22:45:00.000-08:002014-10-26T13:44:18.640-07:00Pt. 16 Stay With Me - Round and Round <br />
William felt happier than he had been in a long time when he left Shane’s house. They had spent hours since dinner texting back and forth and playing video games. There had been an easy casualness to the whole thing. There was no pressure, just comfort. <br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
He didn’t think about any other part of his life even as he got home, greeted his family then made his way to his room. He sat at his desk, turned on his computer, and waited for the familiar glow of the monitor. It was just after eight, forty-five minutes before curfew on a school night and he still had homework to do but those were all minor distractions. He set his mind to each task but he couldn’t stop smiling. The smiling continued into the next day, through classes, and was with him when he showed up at Shane’s door with the homework assignments.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Shane invited him inside with a wave then led him to the living room where commercials played on the television. He took a seat on the couch and invited William to sit beside him.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Your mom out?” William asked.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Shane nodded.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Your dad and brother?”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Shane nodded then picked up his phone.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
<shopping. be back with pizza.><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Cool,” William replied.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
<Want to stay?><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
William thought about it for a moment. It was tempting to try and recreate what they had the previous day but it was also scary. They were alone, at least for a few hours. They could... no, it was too risky. It would mean too much or maybe not enough. And he wasn’t even sure if Shane liked him like that. What if he didn’t?<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Can’t,” William said, “I have homework and my mom, after yesterday. She wants me home early for chores.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Shane shrugged.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
He felt like he had already disinvited himself so he decided to go with it.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“I actually have to get going,” William said. “When are you coming back to school?”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
<don’t know for sure. Luke is supposed to be suspended until School Board meeting.><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“They have to have a meeting about it? He should be expelled.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Shane nodded and grunted through his teeth.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“I can’t believe that. It’s not like it was a simple fight.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
<my mouth is wired shut><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“I know,” William said.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
<my mom is supposed to go the meeting><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“That’s good,” William said.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
<she wants me to go><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Are you?”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
<don’t want to but I will. I would hate to see him there.><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
William winced at the text. He could imagine how difficult it would be to see his attacker. It would feel embarrassing and frustrating at the same time.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“That totally sucks, I hope she goes and she gets them to expel him.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
<me too><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
William looked up from his phone and he felt as if everything had been sucked out of the room. There was no emotion, no feeling left in him. They had turned a corner in the conversation and he thought it would feel better if they left it alone.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Well,” William said. “I guess, I mean, I have to get going.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
He turned and walked from the room back through the house. Shane followed him. They stopped at the open front door. It was warm outside, the sunshine still bright, and birds chirped. William looked to Shane. They stared each other in the eye. There was a bond there that neither of them wanted to break.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Well,” William said.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Shane held out his arms and grunted to signal that he wanted a hug. William swallowed and looked out the porch where he saw the shadow of a large tree in the front yard. Everything felt right and so he looked back at Shane and stepped in to hug him. <br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
By their height difference alone it was easier for Shane to wrap his arms around William’s torso and for William to hold Shane’s shoulders. William didn’t expect that Shane would grip tightly as if he was never going to let go. It was a move William knew he would have never done first but as he felt it he tried to hug back with the same effort. The courage of William’s move broke something in William’s being, his sense of self and fear. It was a feeling he had always wanted. It was a feeling he was afraid to want.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Then Shane relaxed his grip and slowly pulled away his arms and William did the same until they were apart and looking at each other again. Both of them grinned. The wind blew, the tree outside moved and its shadow fluctuated on the grass breaking the moment.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Well,” William said. “I guess I have to get going.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
He stepped onto the porch and walked to his car, looking back over his shoulder occasionally as he did. He started the car and pulled away from the curb. There had been something there between them, something that connected them in that moment, something he wanted to feel again but almost felt better the further away he got because it felt like a trail back to something warm and safe.Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-43872057569381227992013-02-11T15:32:00.001-08:002014-10-26T13:42:27.163-07:00Pt. 15 Stay With Me - Third Wheel<br />
As nice as Brittany was her continued presence at the house drained any sense of enthusiasm William had for visiting Shane. She was strange to him and he worried about saying or doing the wrong thing. Any comment he made seemed to be noted but uninteresting to them as they talked and he couldn’t integrate himself to their conversation so he fell quiet an hour after being there. He was at the end of his patience, slowly taping his shoe against the coffee table leg, ready to leave on an impulse when Shane’s mother Anne entered the room.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“I’m going to be getting the plates for dinner. Who all is staying? You’re all welcome.”<br />
<br />
William and Shane caught each other’s eyes.<br />
<br />
“Sorry Mrs. Farmer,” Brittany said, “I have to get going. I’ve been here too long actually. I have homework and things I need to do.”<br />
<br />
“Oh, well, how about you William?”<br />
<br />
He gulped as Shane stared back at him. He wanted to say he had to leave but he knew it wasn’t the truth. He wanted to prove something to Shane, or maybe just anger him but his parents wouldn’t mind him missing dinner, much less driving back home before curfew. He could tell that Shane wanted him to stick around so he decided to give in to the unspoken request.<br />
<br />
“Yeah, if it’s not a problem,” William said.<br />
<br />
“The more the merrier,” she said before leaving the room.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Brittany let out a grunt of disappointment before she stood and pulled Shane to his feet then embraced him in a tight hug. She rocked him on his feet then kissed him on his cheek and stepped back with her hands still on his shoulders.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“You be safe from now on,” she said. “I don’t want to hear about you getting injured. We used to play board games together and sneak into your father’s study.” Her words resinated in William’s chest because he realized it was a connection he didn’t have, could never have. He bit his lip as he watched her hug him again then push away, collect her things, and walk from the room in a casual manner that made William fear she would bump into something. She said goodbye to Anne as she passed through the kitchen and then they heard the house door open and close. William forced a smile.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Shane grunted through his teeth and signaled that they should head for the kitchen. William got to his feet and walked into the kitchen where he decided to follow Shane’s actions. He washed his hands at the sink like Shane did then dried them with the same towel, followed him to the dining room where he decided to sit at the chair next to Shane. <br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Shane would you go get your father in his study?”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
William looked up to Anne and furrowed his eyebrows. He had not yet met Shane’s father and the sudden idea that he had been there the whole time was perplexing. He didn’t want to meet him like this. He didn’t want to meet him, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was going to happen. Shane got up from the table and began to walk from the room. William watched him leave then looked to the table that was empty and he remembered he should call his mother.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Uh, I have to call my mother,” he said. As he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He got up from the table and began to walk from the room as he dialed his home number. It rang three times.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Kyle, get in here and set the table,” Anne called down the hallway to Shane’s younger brother.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Hello,” his mother said.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Hey mom,” William said. “I uh, am at a friend’s place and he asked me to stay for dinner.” His heart sunk because it felt like he was asking permission. Eighteen, and he was asking for permission.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Who’s the friend?” she asked.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Just a friend from school,” he said. He stepped away farther into the living room and lowered his voice before he said, “I’m at Josh’s.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Okay, well, I wish you would have told me sooner. Though I guess it doesn’t matter much since we’re ordering pizza. Well, be safe driving home and don’t be out too late.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Okay, love you mom,” he said.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Love you too,” she said.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
He hung up the phone and felt guilty about saying where he was but he knew that she knew Shane was the boy that had been beaten up, or at least she knew of him, it wouldn’t take much to know his name. Then where would they be? He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked back to the dining room.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Kyle had already set out the plates and he had a handful of knives and forks as he walked around setting them down one at a time on the place mats that had been put down under the dishes. Shane stood against the wall with his hands on his hips. Anne was busy finishing the food on the stove. William felt happy for a moment before he saw the large head of a Saint Bernard enter the room then he looked to the archway where he saw a man slightly taller than Shane enter the room. It was easy to see the familial similarity between the man and his two sons, though he was slightly disheveled looking as if he had just been woken up.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Oh hey there,” he said. “I’m Martin. You must be William.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Martin crossed the room to where William stood and extended his hand. William brushed his hand on his jeans to make sure it wasn’t sweaty then shook Martin’s hand as firmly as he could. <br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Good grip,” Martin said, “Shane tells us you are a basketball player.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“I was,” William said. “Season is over, no more games.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Well...” Martin added before he clapped his hands and turned to the table. <br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Anything we can do?” he asked.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Just have a seat,” Anne said.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
William moved to the chair where he had been sitting in but was shocked when Kyle moved to the one next to him instead of Shane who shrugged his shoulders and sat across from him. Martin sat at the head of the table and Anne made quick work to put the food in the center of the table: breaded chicken breast, salad, brussels sprouts, and rice. William looked at the food and smirked as it was the type of food he usually ate during game season but when it was over he liked to go back to cheese burgers and fries. He looked to Anne and wondered how she was overweight with this kind of diet but then Martin cleared his throat and bowed his head.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Everyone else bowed their head and William did so politely. His family wasn’t religious, at least not this religious, enough to pray before dinner, only holidays. He watched out of the corners of his eyes as they crossed themselves, Martin said the prayer, and then crossed themselves again. He looked up as everyone else did then waited for someone else to start before he served himself food.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
In all of the confusion he hadn’t noticed that Shane didn’t have a plate and he stopped for a moment when Anne spoke up.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“He’ll eat later. I have to blend his food and he’s embarrassed to eat in front of you.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Oh,” William said. He looked to Shane who was clearly bothered but not going to respond.<br />
<br />Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-22175686167396250462013-02-05T00:12:00.000-08:002013-02-05T21:53:41.345-08:00Pt. 14 Stay With Me - New Shoes<br />
William and Brittany dropped the books in the open trunk of his car before setting off for Shane’s home. He felt awkward with her in the car because he knew very little about her. She had been one of the few, because of last name, that had rarely ended up in any of his classes. She was a stranger to him. <br />
<br />
She was different than everyone else too. She stood out from the crowd but in a good way, humble almost. She was tall, attractive, and sophisticated. She had long, curly, blonde hair that was usually loose about her head. She was popular but she wasn’t a cheerleader or a preppie. <br />
<br />
She wore Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses but no one called her a snob. She had been to Europe to visit all of the great cities. She was smart. She studied Spanish and French. She read books unrelated to classes in study hall. <br />
<br />
She was a part of the Gay-Straight Alliance, yet there was little suspicion of her motives. There could be no rumors. She was a ‘straight ally’, because there had been rumors that she had been sexually active with at least two guys, neither of whom attended their school, rumors that weren’t denied, and no one said she was a whore. <br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Other girls had ruined reputations either because they had had sex with a guy at school or because they were rumored to have performed some sexual act like a blow job or a hand job but not her. She had been and seen. She was sociable but aloof. She floated along with her own passions, her own abilities. <br />
<br />
William had expected her to fidget and complain. He thought she would play with her cell phone or read a book. He thought she would complain that his car didn’t have power windows or that the backseat was filled with garbage. He thought she would complain about his driving ability or give him directions but she did none of those things. She rolled down the window and relaxed in the passenger seat. She didn’t fidget. She didn’t seem bothered and though her dark glasses covered her eyes William felt that she was present. They were halfway there when he decided to start a conversation.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“So how do you know Shane?” he asked. It was difficult to speak after such a long silence but once the words were out he felt better.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“I used to babysit him,” she said. “His parents would have me come over and watch him, usually on Saturdays or evenings when they were home.”<br />
<br />
“They were home but they needed a babysitter? Isn’t that more like paying you to be his friend?”<br />
<br />
“I guess, but not really, I mean they were busy. Sometimes they left for different errands and things. I was there to keep him entertained. I thought of it mostly like a job but I really like him, you know, don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you went to see him in the hospital.”<br />
<br />
“Did he tell you about that?”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> “Yeah, he mentioned it.”<br />
<br />
William gulped at the answer because somehow he had expected his actions to go unnoticed, or at least untold. Now there was a bond there between them, a friendship recognized by someone else.<br />
<br />
“Did he mention anything else?”<br />
<br />
She looked in his direction briefly before she looked away to the road ahead. He could tell that she wanted to say something but was stopping herself.<br />
<br />
“What?” he asked.<br />
<br />
“Well,” she said before she rubbed her hand against the knee of her jeans, “he mentioned you guys have been texting back and forth and it’s really been keeping him in good spirits.”<br />
<br />
“Really,” he said. He wanted to follow up, ask more but he was silenced by his own happiness and then when he recognized that he was grinning a little he cleared his throat and changed his facial expression back to being serious.<br />
<br />
“He’s a nice guy,” she said.<br />
<br />
William nodded and a quick smile jerked at his lips before he caught himself. He wanted to change the subject but his he couldn’t find a thought far enough away.<br />
<br />
“I can’t believe Luke attacked him like that,” William said.<br />
<br />
“Did you know Luke?”<br />
<br />
“Not really,” William said. “He fell in with the vocational studies crowd. Did you?”<br />
<br />
“Briefly in the seventh grade but he was such a dick head even back then I couldn’t stand him. When he said it was a senior in his gym class I didn’t know who it was. Did you?”<br />
<br />
“No, why? You thought he would do something like this?”<br />
<br />
“I should have. He used to brag about how one day he was going to bag himself a queer but no one knew what that meant back then. I hadn’t thought about it in years.”<br />
<br />
The phrase resounded in William’s ear and he felt his stomach clench. He thought about Luke, the other boys in his class, the members that had been on his basketball team and it felt like blows to his psyche. They would all hate him if they knew. They would all hate him if they found out the truth, a truth he didn’t know how long he could hide. Truth always comes out to the surface even in minor Freudian slips. <br />
<br />
They didn’t talk for the rest of the drive, even as they got out of the car and retrieved the books there was barely an exchange of sounds until they reached the door and Shane welcomed them inside, dressed in his pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. <br />
<br />
Brittany let out a squeal of delight as she embraced him, took him in her arms, and squeezed until he stuck out his arms in surrender. It was clearly the first time they had been together since the fight and William felt instantly jealous at their easy embrace. What would it mean if he had tried for such a hug? Was it something either of them were ready for? He forced himself to smile when Shane looked to him and held up the books to signify the true reason for their visit.<br />
<br />
“How are you doing?” she asked as she let him go.<br />
<br />
He grunted through his teeth then held up his cell phone.<br />
<br />
“Let’s get us on a group chat,” she said.<br />
<br />
Shane nodded then walked away as he pressed buttons on his phone. William and Brittany followed after him through the house to what was clearly his bedroom. <br />
<br />
Brittany pulled out her phone and William was about to do the same when it buzzed in his pocket. He gripped at it through his jeans to make it stop then pulled it out and opened it. There was already two messages from Shane.<br />
<br />
Hello.<br />
<br />
Good to see you.<br />
<br />
William was unable to type until he set the books down so he waited until they entered and then he signaled for a place to put them down and Shane pointed to his bed. Brittany and William set the books down and Shane was quick to type into his phone.<br />
<br />
Homework. Ugh.<br />
<br />
William smiled.<br />
<br />
“You thought you’d be able to get out of it,” William said.<br />
<br />
“Well at least you don’t have to go to school,” Brittany added.<br />
<br />
Shane mocked their humor with a raise of his shoulders and a roll of his eyes.<br />
<br />
No one had anything to say right away and William took the time to look around the room. There were shelves full of books, trinkets, and toys. His desk was mostly clean with a single candle next to an open laptop with a screen saver displaying male athletes. Brittany saw where he was looking. Shane grinned then closed the laptop.<br />
<br />
The room was organized but full. The books were a mix of Western Canon and popular science fiction, with a few biographies, historical texts, and horror mixed in.<br />
<br />
It had been too long since they had said something and Shane desperately wanted to start a conversation so he held up his finger to get their attention before he retrieved a shoe box from under his bed. He set the box on his bed, opened it, and pulled out a brand new pair of sneakers with bright blue shoe strings.<br />
<br />
“Nice shoes,” Brittany said.<br />
<br />
“Those are some shoe laces,” William added.<br />
<br />
Shane nodded then dropped them on the bed and picked up his phone, shortly after both William and Brittany’s phone rang with the same message.<br />
<br />
Got them because my old one’s had blood on them from the fight. Couldn’t get it to come out. Mom said she couldn’t send me back in them.<br />
<br />
Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-19858661836052060072012-12-28T08:21:00.002-08:002012-12-28T08:29:09.052-08:00Pt 13 Stay With Me- The Get Well Card<br />
The next morning William awoke with a happiness that surprised even him so he tried to reason out its creation and meaning as he went about his morning routine. He concluded as he drove to school that the happiness was because of Shane. For once he had someone with whom he could share his life. They had been up until one o’clock in the morning texting back and forth to each other about their childhood, television and movies they’d seen, and their hopes for what they wanted to be, what they wanted to do after high school.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Shane had said he wanted to be an artist, or at the least work in the arts. It would be easy for him to be gay in that line of work, William thought. Maybe not if he was an actor or something, though that was changing, but Shane hadn’t said anything about acting. He was more the painter type, or else maybe a writer. Shane had said he like photography, and William had kidded him about really meaning pornography. William laughed to himself because for once he could make a joke, a gay related joke, and it was funny not humiliating.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
He pulled into the parking lot and to one of the last spots where he parked his car, picked up his two books with the homework folded inside, and headed toward the school. Most everyone else had been waiting around for over half an hour because they had taken the bus or else walked but he had worked it into a science to get nearly the last spot and walk into the building just before the bell rang. He was headed to homeroom when he spotted Mrs. Gallagher at the principal’s office, for a moment he looked away so he could pretend he didn’t see her but she waved to get his attention, summon him to her. He grunted then headed to where she stood with another teacher.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Good morning,” he said to them both.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Good morning,” she responded. “Do you have a minute?”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“I’m headed to homeroom,” he said.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“I’ll walk with you,” she replied.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
They walked along the hallway and his happiness was quickly replaced with increasing levels of fear. What did it mean to walk down the hall with her? What would it mean if it had been Shane? Just days ago he had tried to break off any kind of friendship with the boy and just last night they had texted like the best of friends. <br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Talk to Shane much?”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Yeah, he’s doing alright,” William said.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“I got a card for him. I was going to try and get everyone from the group to sign it then see if you would take it to him.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
He perked up at the sentiment of what she said and looked to her as she smiled back at him.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Why don’t you stop by at the end of the day?”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
They stopped at the doorway to the classroom and William suddenly became aware that he was holding his books to his chest as if he were a smitten girl in a movie so he dropped them around his waist then tucked them against his side in one arm.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Yeah, no problem,” he said. “I’ll stop by. I have his number too so I can give that to you.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Good,” she said. She began to reach out for a moment to touch his elbow but stopped herself. “Well, I’ll see you later then.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
They turned away from each other. William stepped into the classroom and Mrs. Gallagher walked away down the hallway. The rest of the morning William wanted to text with Shane but he had a feeling his friend was sleeping in, plus he didn’t want to get caught. He waited until lunch where he had to play it casual with his friends as he sent his first message but when he didn’t get a response by the end of the period he powered off his phone and waited until study hall to check his messages. There was a series of texts:<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
<i>Decided to go shopping. Went to thrift store. Cashier woman thought I was skipping school. Looked pretty conspicuous in my glasses and hat. But I couldn’t stand being in the house. Almost made me wish I was in school. Not really.</i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
William laughed to himself. No one missed school, he thought. He looked at the tile flooring, the aluminum shelving, and the steel framed windows, no one would miss it. This was a place where only the teachers stayed year after year, each class more like the last. He looked to the ceiling and sighed, one more class he told himself, only a few more months.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
The last five minutes of the period were agonizing and then he managed to forget most everything for the first thirty minutes of his last class until the class had been given an assignment to write for the last ten minutes then take home with them if they hadn’t finished. William managed to sneak a peak at his phone as the teacher read from a newspaper but there were no more messages from Shane. He looked to the clock but there were two minutes left so he looked back to his paper where he had managed to write the first paragraph but didn’t feel like writing anything else. <br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Then the bell rang and William folded the paper and stuck it in his book. He headed back to his locker to get a second book from earlier in the day then headed to Mrs. Gallagher’s classroom where he found she was alone at her desk grading pop quizzes.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Come on in and have a seat. I have the card but I’m still waiting on Brittany to come by and sign the card. She said she walks home so she could do it after school.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
William was bothered by the thought of staying another minute let alone ten minutes to wait fro Brittany to sign the card but he shrugged his shoulders and made his way to the desk where he sat as she resumed her work. He pulled out his phone and decided to text Shane that he would be headed over soon but when there was no immediate response he set the phone on the desk and looked to the doorway. <br />
<br />
“Oh,” Mrs. Gallagher said. “Could you write down his number? Did you ask him if it was okay?”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
William shrugged and said he didn’t think it would be a problem before he took out a piece of scrap paper from the back of one of his books and wrote out Shane’s phone number. The world felt infinitely big, time slow, and all of his meaning empty for a moment before Brittany walked into the classroom with a smile on her face and full of cheer.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Hey Mrs. Gallagher, hey William,” she said, “sorry to keep you waiting but I had to take care of some things.” She walked to Mrs. Gallagher’s desk where Mrs. Gallagher had set out the card. Brittany looked at the front then said, “awe that’s sweet,” before opening it and reading through the other signatures. “It’s so sad,” she said before she pouted for a moment then reached into her purse and produced a pink pen. She used the desk to write out a quick message then sign her name then handed the card to Mrs. Gallagher who too it in hand and read over the messages then furrowed her brow with a sudden realization.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“William, you haven’t signed this,” she said.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
William perked up at the words then got up from the desk and crossed to where they waited for him. Now suddenly he was the one taking up their time, he thought, and foolishly too. He took the card and looked at the messages but somehow the words didn’t make sense as he looked them over, none of the messages really mattered to him, it wasn’t his card. He wanted to write something clever and meaningful but was a loss for words and he realized he didn’t have a pen with him.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Um, I need a pen,” he said.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Here use this one,” Brittany said, “it’s pink.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
William frowned at her words making the two of them smile but when he thought about how he had reacted he opened his mouth and parted his hands in an act of confused apology to which Brittany laughed more and Mrs. Gallagher handed over her red pen. William took it in hand and said it would work before he leaned down to write out his message but nothing sounded right and he didn’t want to take up any more of their time so he just wrote, ‘get well soon” and signed his name before handing the card over with the pen.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Great,” Mrs. Gallagher said. She placed the card in the envelope and sealed it.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Hey do you think I could get a ride with you?” Brittany asked. “I live right in Shane’s neighborhood. Maybe I can even visit for a little.”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
William said that it wouldn’t be a problem even though he felt the opposite.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
“Great,” Mrs. Gallagher said, “you can both carry his books. I didn’t know which ones he had at home to do his work so I borrowed all of them from his teachers. He’ll need to bring them back of course.” She pointed to the shelf by the window where eight books sat piled in the sunlight.Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-44999562344702987602012-08-10T09:54:00.000-07:002012-08-10T09:54:02.888-07:00Pt. 12 Stay With Me- The Boy At School<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">William moved the food about on his plate as he sat at the dinner table with his parents. He pushed at the collard greens with his fork. His mother decided to start a conversation.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“I heard a boy was attacked yesterday in school. I heard it was pretty bad.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">William’s eyebrows raised before the rest of his body. This was it, this was the opening, this is how to do it, he thought. I knew the boy mom, he was, is a friend of mine from the Gay-Straight Alliance, I don’t know why I went there but mom, I’m gay, really I am, it’s not a phase. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Apparently it was a couple of boys who attacked him. Do you know them?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“No,” he said, “I mean well sort of, they played sports but we weren’t, aren’t, friends or anything.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Did you know the boy?” </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">He opened his mouth to answer that he did.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“There’s a rumor they attacked him because he’s gay. I heard it was pretty bad.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">William inhaled deeply and looked back to his plate. It could have been easy, he thought, but there was something in the way she said the term gay that made him uneasy. Then there was the fact of violence. If he said it right then she might think he could be a victim. He looked down the table to his father who sat with an tired but inquiring expression. But he couldn’t, didn’t want to, look his father in the eye then so he looked back to his mother. It was easier to lie to her.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“I don’t know, I guess,” he said. “I mean I heard that.” He thought about taking it one step further and mentioning the rumors but then he worried that she would think it was true or possibly true and then maybe he would have deserved it.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“School is no place for fighting,” his father said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">William looked to the man who was proud of his pronouncement about the way things should be. This was the same man who had bragged about the fights he had been in when he was young, not in school, but out of school. The man who was proud to have been in boxing as a youth, raced his Mustang in college.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“They should have been in the ring with gloves,” his father added.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Honey,” his mother replied stopping his pontificating.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">William felt the urge to speak, to explain somehow to his parents how things actually were. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“It wouldn’t have even been a fair fight,” he said. “The guy who got beat up is like a hundred pounds soaking wet. The other guys are real jocks on the wrestling team, baseball team.” The thought of them, all of them at school the next day, the day after that made his blood rush to the skin. If he had been there he would have had to fight them, all of them, and it wasn’t going away. It was something he would have to deal with the rest of his life.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Well, I just meant that we used to have rules about these things,” his father said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Do kids like him get bullied a lot?” his mother asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The question struck a nerve in William’s body. Was he a kid<i> like him</i>? He could have been, maybe he should have been. He didn’t want anything to be wrong with it. He thought about telling them about how <i>kids like him</i> get bullied, <i>kids like him</i> get attacked and pushed around in the halls, but he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“I don’t know,” William said. “I mean yeah, kids get picked on but it’s not always just kids like him. I mean nobody really means anything by it.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Well those boys certainly meant something by it.” William looked up to his mother who had somehow, he felt, gotten the upper hand in the conversation. “And I don’t want to hear about you taking part in something like that.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">He furrowed his brows and he felt his heart quiver inside his chest. He was shocked that his mother could have shown compassion yet think that he might have or could be involved in something like that. He thought about the locker room with all the guys and Shane in the hospital. He didn’t think he could have attacked him but he had taken place in other acts of hazing and other acts of violence, subtle things. Would he have defended Shane in that locker room or watched his friend get beaten? He didn’t want to answer the question.</span></div>Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-71332493881486497862012-07-30T11:34:00.000-07:002012-07-30T11:34:02.368-07:00Pt. 11 Stay With Me- Shane's Home<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">It was a strange drive as William tried to remember the way but as he pulled in front of Shane’s house he was happy that he was able to remember the route. He got out of his car and walked to the front door where called Shane instead of ringing the doorbell. He heard Shane pick up and a grunt.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Sorry,” William said. “Hey, I’m outside.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In a few moments the front door opened and Shane stood on the other side smiling as best he could as he signaled for William to come inside. Shane had less bandages on his face but the swelling was still significant, the skin was purple, black, blue, and yellow but both of his eyes were uncovered. But he had an energy that was unmistakeable. William stepped to the door, smiled back, and then entered.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You look good,” William said. He was suddenly aware Shane couldn’t answer him back. “School sucked so you got that going for you.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane nodded then signaled that William should follow him farther into the house. It was an over decorated, over furnished house that William realized had a family room, a living room, three bedrooms, and a small office. Nearly every room had a ceiling fan. It was cluttered but it was also very clean. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane’s mother stood in the kitchen reading directions in a cookbook as the partially mixed ingredients of a cake sat in front of her on the counter. She smiled to William as he entered and asked him if he wanted anything to drink.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No thanks,” William said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Are you sure?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William nodded.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Well are you staying for dinner then?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane made an noise from his throat that William thought sounded like ‘mom’ which made him smirk that he would respond like that with his mouth wired shut.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Ignore him,” she said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He waved away the invitation and said, “I couldn’t.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We’re having cake,” she said. Shane sagged his shoulders at the comment and she smiled. “Well, everyone except Shane. It’s his younger brother’s idea because Shane here gets to drink all the ice cream he wants all day long along with protein shakes and whatever else. We have to make sure he doesn’t lose weight.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane pursed his lips and furrowed his brows as he looked to William who smiled back. Then he signaled for them to continue through the house.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“It’s tempting,” William said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane moved to him and took hold of his hand then began to pull gently.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William knew he could win in the tug of war but he decided to go along with the gesture suddenly happy that he was holding Shane’s hand as he was led into the living room where the television was already on and what looked like a shake in a glass awaited them on the coffee table. Shane looked back to the kitchen then pulled his phone from his pocket and gestured for William to get his out as well.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>My little brother is in his room. So we can watch some television.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>William looked around the room. He didn’t know what he had expected but somehow watching television wasn’t it. He was glad when Shane sat then typed him another message.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Don’t worry. Everyone knows I’m gay.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>William felt his face blush as if he had just been caught at something.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Don’t worry. They don’t know if you’re gay.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>William sat down beside him.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>You didn’t tell them?</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Should I?</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>Shane motioned as if he was going to yell out to the house but all that happened was he made low groans. William laughed then typed on his phone.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>You’re such a dork.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>Shane read the message and nodded. William shook his head.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Anyone say anything at school?</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>To me? No.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Good. I heard they got suspended. My mother says they are considering expelling them but she doubts that will happen because they're jocks.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>William read the message and his heart sunk. It may very well be true especially in a small town. It was one thing to fight but this was a brutal attack. He let his thumbs drift over the keypad as he was unsure how to respond.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You boys are so quiet.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William was startled by Shane’s mother’s words and looked to her.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Sorry,” she said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We’re texting,” he replied then held up his phone.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Kids,” she said. “Though I guess in this case it’s a good thing. Are you sure I can’t get you anything. Shane you should really finish your shake.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane looked to his phone and typed out a message for William to read out loud.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“He says he doesn’t want it anymore,” William said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She shook her head and moved to the table where she picked up the glass and then headed back to the kitchen where he put it in the refrigerator.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Thanks.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>“No problem,” William said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane held up his phone and shook it at William.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Sorry,” William said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane shook his phone again then moved to type out another message.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Text it.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Okay.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So really. No one said anything?</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Not really.</i></span></div>
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William hated himself in that moment for lying about what he had heard and even though part of him felt Shane might be amused by the rumors he didn't want to be the one to say.</div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Too bad.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They probably will tomorrow. Are you coming back to school?</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>Shane shook his head.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>They gave me some good pain pills and my mom wants me to stay home this week. Maybe next too.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Too bad.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I won’t miss it.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>William nodded. He sighed at the thought of Shane being out two weeks but he could understand not wanting to come back because he had ended up in the hospital. He could have died.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Maybe I can just come back for the GSA. That would be funny.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>William smiled to Shane.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Sounds dangerous.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Danger is my middle name.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>They texted for another half hour before William felt hungry and the smell of Shane’s mother cooking wasn’t helping but he didn’t want to stay because he didn’t want to explain to his family where he had been so he said that he had to leave and Shane walked him to the door. He offered his hand to shake but Shane moved to hug him and he let it happen then he stepped out of the house and Shane watched as he walked back to his car. He turned and looked back to house and he could make out Shane’s silhouette when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out and opened it.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Text me when you get home.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>William smiled at the text then looked back up the house where he waved before turning back to his car where he got inside and drove away.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div>Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-23719713927986780702012-07-28T08:52:00.002-07:002012-07-28T08:52:37.519-07:00Pt. 10 Stay With Me- How's He Doing?<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">After lunch for the next two periods William heard more rumors about Shane and Luke and he was tempted to correct them somehow but he felt strangely guilty in the very notion that he might know Shane so he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to have to defend himself. He was headed to seventh period, World History, when he saw Mrs. Gallagher in the hall and she signaled to him with a look of her eyes then a wave of her hand that she wanted to talk. He looked up and down the hallway before making his way to her where she led him inside her classroom. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found it was empty.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">“Hi William,” she said. “Did you hear about what happened?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She moved into the room then leaned casually against her desk causing William to turn on the spot. He felt lie he was giving a performance as he stood before the classroom of empty desks. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Actually, uh, I went to see him,” he said. William felt tense in the throat and tried to massage it away.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“How’s he doing?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Shane-” William’s voice cracked and he tried to clear his throat, “he’s fine I guess. His face is pretty bruised and his jaw is wired shut.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Oh my,” she said, “that bad?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William felt uncomfortable trying to assess someone else’s situation, let alone Shane but he forced himself to speak.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“He’s a survivor. He didn’t seem too down. He was supposed to get out last night but I haven’t heard from him since. He has my phone number though.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“His mother got in contact with you then?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No, I just went to the hospital. Actually Brittany told me about what happened so he must have contacted her. She told me the hospital and where he ended up. I just decided to go.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She nodded.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“So you don’t have his phone number? I just want to check up on him if it’s really as bad as you say.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No, I don’t have it,” William said, “I mean, I gave him my number but he hasn’t texted me yet or anything. I don’t think he can talk.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Well, do you mind if I give you my number so that if you hear from him you can call me?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Um, no, that would be fine,” he said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She moved around her desk and wrote out on a piece of paper her phone number then handed it over to him.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That’s my cell phone number so, you know, discretion,” she said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He held up the paper and said, “no problem”, before he began to walk away. He heard the second bell for the beginning of class and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Wait,” Mrs. Gallagher said, “I can give you a note.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He thought about telling her not to worry about it but then he remembered the teacher’s policy and decided to take her up on the offer. She was quick to write a note and sign it for him. She stood and walked him to the door then took his elbow as he handed over the note.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You be careful out there,” she said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He smiled to her and shook his head as if to dismiss her concern but as he stepped into the hallway and heard the door close behind him he felt more alone than usual as he walked to class. Before he had looked forward to seeing his friends and teammates, sure he didn’t get along with them all of the time but he wanted to see them, but things had changed. He had a secret not many people knew about and it was something dangerous.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He sat through the next two classes in a fog, barely paying attention though that better than most even on good days. He had long ago perfected the act of looking curious and interested while thinking about something else, though he couldn’t focus on anyone thing in particular.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When the day ended he walked to his car and sat in the driver’s seat for a long time as he waited for the rest of the cars to leave. They had nearly all gone when his phone buzzed to life frightening him. He pulled it from his pocket and looked to the display where he saw a text from a number not in his phonebook. It had to be Shane. He smiled and opened the message.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Figured you’d be out of school. Has that nightmare ended?</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William opened a response and quickly typed with two thumbs.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>It ended. Too slow of course.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Anyone talking about me?</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William looked up from the phone to the nearly empty parking lot and over to the school building where he saw only a few students hanging around after the buses had left. He thought about telling Shane what he had heard but he didn’t know how he would take it so he decided to be vague.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Rumors. Nothing 2 bad.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Good. Want to come over?</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div>Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-1901086089505810792012-07-24T08:20:00.002-07:002012-07-24T08:20:39.346-07:00Pt. 9 Stay With Me- Implications<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">William drove home that night thinking about Shane’s face, the boys who had beaten him, and the fact that he had to go to school the next day. No one was looking to fight him, he thought, at least not attack him like that, at least he hoped not. But what was it that made them attack Shane? He hadn’t asked. He hadn’t been able to because Shane’s mother Anne was there and he wasn’t even sure that Shane was ‘out’ to his mother. He was out to everyone at school, at least in a subtle, insignificant way, though he had gotten bolder.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The shirt, he thought, it was because of the shirt. If he hadn’t worn that shirt then it could have been- he stopped himself from the conclusion to that thought because the shirt didn’t cause the fight- no, it was the boys, the fear and the homophobia, but that didn’t change anything because he was going to have to see those boys, see his friends, and then they were going to know. I never should have went, he thought, I wish I could take it all back.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That night he made his way to his bedroom, did his homework and fell asleep with a book in his hands until the morning when he was awoken by his alarm clock. It was a day just like any other but he felt sick, a little upset stomach and a headache. He decided to make the symptoms out to be worse than they were as he made his way to the kitchen where his parents sat eating cold cereal and grapefruit.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I don’t feel so well,” he said. “Can I stay home?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>His father shrugged his shoulders and said he could. His mother didn’t seem to give it much thought until she got up to get more coffee and she moved to him as he sat on the kitchen stool. She felt his head with her hand.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You don’t feel very warm,” she said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“It’s my stomach,” he said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I don’t know,” she responded, “better take your temperature.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I have a headache too,” he added.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“A headache? Well, maybe things will change if you get moving. No nausea?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He shook his head but regretted it instantly. Nausea was the one thing that could have gotten him out of going to school.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Tough it out,” she said, “take a pill for your headache and get some good breakfast. I’ll write you a note about being late but I want you to go to school today.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William felt worried by the prospect yet there was little he could do unless he just refused to go but then he would need an excused absence or else his parents would find out. He sighed.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That’s the best we can do for you kid,” she said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He got up and walked from the room. His mother moved back to the kitchen table where he heard his father ask: </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“What do you think test today?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah, probably just nerves but he’ll have to learn to get over it.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> William took a pill as his mother had recommended and decided to eat a small breakfast before heading to school where he sat through his first four classes going through the minimal interactions he needed to complete. He felt half asleep until he got to lunch where he sat at his usual table. A collection of preppies and jocks, boys and girls.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Do you know Shane Farmer?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William looked to the end of the table where his friend Brad sat. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I heard he got his ass kicked yesterday because he offered to suck Luke Nash’s dick.” He let out a laugh that made William cringe.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Really? He’s a faggot?” one of the girls asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Apparently he’s in the Gay-Straight Alliance,” Brad said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We have a Gay-Straight Alliance?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah, you know about that don’t you William?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The rest of the table looked to William who stared down the table to Brad. He had to do something. He thought about defending himself by reiterating the second part of that title but he didn’t feel able to speak. He raised his hand and flicked him off. Brad laughed. The rest of the table laughed though they were confused about why. Had he really been there? Was he really gay?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Put that bird away,” a strange adult voice said from off to the side by the wall, “before I find a cage for it in detention.” </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William retracted his hand and looked to the wall where Mr. Wozniak stood with his arms crossed. Mr. Wozniak was his Trigonometry teacher, a man who liked giving detention and demerits but he also had a sense of humor especially about profanity. He would be on thin ice for the rest of the day, possibly the rest of the week. Brad began to laugh even more making William look back in his direction.</span></div>Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-19446940699803282832012-07-19T00:44:00.000-07:002012-07-20T21:58:15.792-07:00Pt. 8 Stay With Me- Aftermath<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">A reality of small sensations was all Shane felt by the time he was ready to check out of the hospital. An attendant wheeled him to the curb while his mother retrieved the car then the man helped him into the passenger side seat where he looked to the clock and was disappointed to see that it was after eleven and he felt hungry. He wanted to stop at a drive-thru but felt the tension in his jaw and remembered he wouldn’t be eating solid food for weeks so he let out a grunt of anger.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">“What is it?” his mother asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Frustrated, he shook his head and held up his hand because there was little she could do for him and there was little they could communicate as she drove. He closed his eyes and was thankful that for once she was not persistent, too protective. Let it go, he thought, just let it go and then he was partially asleep in a dark place where he could barely hear the world and the passage of time was unmeasurable. He felt the vibration of the car and remembered the times he had fallen asleep in the back seat when he was young and how his father used to carry him inside to his bed then lay him out and cover him with a sheet. His father would not be doing that tonight because he had gotten too big. Then he was completely asleep, lost in a pleasant darkness, but somehow he still felt when the car came to a complete stop and the engine was turned off. He shifted his shoulders and felt the reality again of his predicament.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Shane honey, we’re here,” his mother said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She placed a hand on his knee that made him open his eyes and sit up. He looked to his mother who was partially lit by the white porch light. Her face was calm.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Come on, you’re too big for me to carry inside,” she said before turning away and opening her own door.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane opened his own door but he was tired and moved slowly, somehow the rest had weakened him, made him aware of all the sore parts of his body. His mother, Anne, was quick to move to the area of the open door and hold out her hands.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Here let me help you,” she said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He mumbled a thank you then stepped out and leaned against her. She moved with him away from the car, closed the car door and they began to stagger to the front door of the house when it opened and they both looked up to see his father who pushed opened the screen door and stepped onto the porch. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Are you guys going to be able to make it?” he asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Can you come down and help us?” his mother replied.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>His father stepped from the porch and walked to them then stopped and tried to assess his son’s face in the dim light. He could make out a few marks, a swollen eye. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Hey buddy,” he said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane grunted a hello.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Let me pick him up,” his father said. “I can carry him up the stairs.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>His father stepped and extended his arm down behind Shane’s knees and one around his back then lifted him from the ground and carried him up the stairs and into the house, down the hallway to Shane’s bedroom where he sat him on the bed. Shane leaned into his knees and looked to his mother who stepped into the room.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You should sleep now,” his mother said. “Do you want me to get you a pain pill?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane nodded and she stepped from the room.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You’re lighter than I thought,” his father said trying to being positive.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane nodded.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We’ll talk tomorrow but don’t worry you don’t have to go back to school.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane looked down to the floor at his father’s bare feet. He listened as his mother struggled to crush the pill with the butt end of a knife and his father’s breathing. There was nothing else to be said. There was no great thought. Nothing that he could articulate. Shane could have fallen asleep as he sat there but he wanted the pill. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Here it is,” his mother said entering the room. She held out a glass of milk to him, a straw turned in the liquid. “It’s the best I can do until I pick up your prescription tomorrow.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He took the glass and stuck the straw in his lips then sucked down the milk letting it fill his mouth and worked it down his throat until the glass was empty.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Do you want one of us to help you with your clothes?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane shook his head.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Okay dear,” she said, “we are going to go now. Do you want us to leave the door open in case you need anything?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He shook his head again then waited for them to leave and close the door behind them. Once they had gone he struggled to pull off his clothes and get into bed with the covers partially covering him then turned off the light by his bed. He wasn’t quite asleep when he heard the muffled voices of his parents talking loudly as they had done several times before and just like then he wanted to slip out of bed, sneak down the hallway to their bedroom and listen to them. But he knew what they were talking about. They were talking about him and part of him was afraid of what his father had to say so he decided to let it go. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Hours later he awoke to a pain in his face, strangely the sinus cavities just behind his nose and it was enough to make him sit up, toss of his covers, and stagger from his room to the bathroom where he turned on the light and blinded himself in the process. He closed his eyes and turned off the light. Think, he said to himself, there has to be another way, and he remembered the bulbs above the mirror so he made his way to the sink then felt up along the wall to the switch where he turned on the light which was a softer, orange light. He opened his eyes slowly, looked at the sink first then worked his way up to the mirror where he saw his face much as it had been in the hospital. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Strangely as he stood before the mirror the pain subsided and for the first time he could see his body as well, black and blue marks where he had been kicked and punched, areas that had turned more than black and blue. His skin had turned yellow, brown, and purple.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This is all real, he told himself. Here he was in his house, in his home, with a swollen face, marks on his body. He wanted to scream but he couldn’t. He wanted to grab at something, hold something, break something, but it felt foolish because it would get his parents’ attention, attention he didn’t need. He turned off the light then headed back to his room. He stopped in the hallway when he saw his mother’s form in her bedroom doorway then continued on his way.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Is he okay?” his father asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I think he’s fine,” his mother said. “I think he just had to use the bathroom.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He stepped into his room, closed the door and crossed back to his bed where he resumed his best sleeping position, flat on his back. That was how he felt the least pain. He closed his eyes.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div>Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-19549452901696432542012-07-16T01:20:00.000-07:002012-07-16T01:20:38.660-07:00Pt. 7 Stay With Me- Shane, Rx<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William found that he had been holding his breath since he had entered the hospital room and when he saw Shane’s mother there he stopped. The curtain was partially pulled alongside the bed to divide the room. He couldn’t see Shane so that meant Shane couldn’t see him. He wanted to turn around and walk out of the room but she saw him, her eyes were locked on him in a focused stare. He raised his hand in an impotent gesture, held it there and she smiled back at him.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">She was not the woman he had imagined. The woman that sat before him was large, obese but in a complimentary way as if that was who she was supposed to be. She wasn’t ugly. She was ordinary.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Hi,” he said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Shane you have a visitor,” she said, “come on in.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He walked past the first bed, past the curtain and stopped when he saw Shane as he lay in bed with his chest partially inclined and his face mangled. His left eye was swollen shut in a grotesque, seemingly impossible fashion, a cut along his cheek, lips were cracked, red, and puffy. His jaw strangely fixed into position. Shane raised a hand in an attempt to wave at him and William couldn’t help but wince at the site. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Are you a friend from school?” his mother asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William nodded.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You’ll have to tell me your name. He can’t talk.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I’m William.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“My name is Anne.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“He can’t talk?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“His jaw had to be wired shut because of what those other boys did to him.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William didn’t know what to say. Those boys, he knew those boys, they were two members of the basketball team he was a part of and one kid who was on the wrestling team. They were mostly nice guys. Or at least they had been nice guys. They got rowdy sometimes, a little out of control, and they talked more than they were really mean, at least he had always thought that but then there was Shane there in bed. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“They kicked him and threw him around that locker room like a rag doll and the other students didn’t do anything. They just watched and some even took pictures of it as it was happening. They say Shane tried to fight back but he was no match for them. It could have cost him his life.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">William swallowed hard. He felt compelled to speak. He wanted to say something passionate, something that showed sympathy, but he also felt strangely political as he stood there because to anyone else he could have been one of those boys.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I’m sorry,” he said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane’s mother looked to him and he shook his head.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No, I just mean...”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“It’s okay,” she said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Are you in class together?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William looked from Shane to his mother where he suddenly wondered just how much she knew about her son. Did she know he was part of the ‘Gay-Straight Alliance’? Did she know that he was gay? He didn’t want to out him to his mother, at least not like this.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah, we go to class together,” he said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“And you came here to check on him?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William nodded.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We’re friends,” he said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Oh, that’s nice.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane looked back at him from his one good eye and his hands flexed as if trying to distribute pain, to banish it and send it out from his body.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Is he in a lot of pain?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She nodded.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“He’s in a lot of pain. They have the intravenous injections but they wear off.” She looked to Shane. “Do you want your friend to stay a while?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane nodded.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Do you want me to leave for a little while?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He nodded again.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She leaned in an kissed him on his forehead then made her way past William and out of the room. Shane pointed to the chair and William moved to it then sat. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William had never been in a hospital before let alone for someone he knew, someone his age, a classmate. He balled his toes inside his shoes.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Shane picked up a small tablet and pen that was in reach of his hand on the bed and began to write in a quick scribble. He held out the paper for William.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>How are you?</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William smiled.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I’m fine,” he said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane wrote again.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Sorry we had to meet like this.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>William shook his head.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Don’t feel bad. </i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>Shane looked to William and saw that he was on the verge of crying. There was a calm, desperate feeling in the room, the empty space between people and things felt huge for both of them.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Would you hold my hand?</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>William smiled and he began to cry as he reached forward onto the bed and took Shane’s hand in his own. Shane’s hand was strangely cold, bonier than he had expected but welcoming just the same as they worked their fingers into a grasp.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I’m sorry,” William said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane shook his head and looked ready to write something else but William held on to his hand.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Don’t worry about.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They sat in silence for another ten minutes when William heard Shane’s mother walking into the room and he immediately pulled his hand back afraid that she might see for too many reasons. He wasn’t sure if Shane was out to her. He wasn’t sure if it was what two young men did. He didn’t want to be seen as being weak. He didn’t want to be seen as being gay. He looked to Shane who looked to his mother.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She reached for her son’s foot and touched it before looking to William.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I know that Shane is very excited to see you but it’s going to be a long night for him and the nurse is on his way with another shot of medicine so...”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William nodded and stood. He wiped his hands on his jeans.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“If you want to leave us your phone number then maybe you guys can text back and forth?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah, that’s fine,” William said before he picked up the pen and paper from the bed and wrote out his number. “Text me any time.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane reached out his hand and William took it briefly before he stepped away down the side of the bed and around Anne then to the doorway where he stopped. He put his hands in his pockets and looked back. There was nothing more to be done here so he had to keep moving. He turned and walked from the room.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>*****</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div>Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-50752721971821088402012-07-11T22:56:00.003-07:002012-07-14T18:42:21.143-07:00Pt. 6 Stay With Me- Shane Confronts a Bully<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Important Note: The following scenes contain violence and homophobic slurs. Unfortunately both really happen.</span></div>
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"Faggot."</div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Luke’s hand hit Shane square in the chest and knocked him back against the locker. His ribs burned from the hit but he looked his bully in the eye. Nearly a foot taller than Shane and eighty pounds of muscle heavier it wouldn’t have been anything close to a fair fight but he decided to stand his ground. If it came down to it he could use the self-defense moves he had learned from the repeat of the Roseanne when she went with her sister to self-defense class. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“What’s that arrow supposed to mean?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Exactly what it says,” Shane replied.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You faggots today with all your rights,” Luke said. He reached out and grabbed Shane by the shirt and pulled him from the locker to raise him in the air until just his toes touched the ground. Shane could hear the fabric seams begin to snap.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was an impulse and Shane took a swing at the other boy’s crotch with his fist but hit his thigh instead. Luke laughed back at first then became very serious as he pulled Shane closer. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“This little faggot just tried to take a swing at my nuts,” Luke said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Did he try and grab them or just punch ‘em,” someone called out from the growing audience.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Good question, so what is it faggot?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane knew it was coming but as he looked back in the boy’s eyes he knew that the pain of recovery was worse than the pain of being hit. Being hit was some kind of momentary event that left a lasting mark. He had been through it all before but somehow he thought it wouldn’t happen again. He wished it wouldn’t happen again.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You really need a breath mint,” Shane responded.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Funny guy,” Luke said. “And that’s a funny shirt you’re wearing. But you know what maybe I want to be a funny guy so give it to me.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Get bent,” Shane said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Still not laughing,” Luke said. And with that he twisted the boy around by the neck of his shirt and threw him to the ground. He was on him instantly and it was easy to overpower him and rip away his shirt. Luke stood with the shredded cloth in his hand with a grin on his face. “Now it’s my shirt and if I catch you wearing anything else I don’t like then I’m going to rip those off as well.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane tried to stand and Luke watched him. Barely to his feet Luke shoved him and knocked him back into a bench. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"Why are you always on me?" Shane said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The other guys were watching as they eyed each other.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"I'm not always on you. I just don't like little runts who are always bragging about being a little faggot."</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"I'm not bragging. I'm just being myself," Shane said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"Well then I don't like who you are."</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane stood his ground but he wasn't sure what to do. Luke's physical attack had ceased and there was a feeling that nothing more would happen but he wasn't sure. Luke could be after him just as easily as before.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"Screw you faggot," Luke said before turning away.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He knew he should have let it drop and he fought the urge to say what he thought but it still slipped out. "You'd like that," he said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Luke turned on him with a renewed anger.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"Wait," Shane said.</span></div>
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<br /></div>Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-6034184521421306382012-07-06T22:11:00.000-07:002012-07-06T22:11:47.873-07:00Pt. 5 Stay With Me- William, GSA<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">After practice with a habit of minding his own business William changed and slipped out of the locker room with barely an acknowledgment from his teammates. He had never been a captain or one to brag just a stoic, regular, dependable guy so it was no big deal. He walked to his car wishing that Shane was waiting for him, or someone, someone to talk to. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">He followed a familiar pattern of roads never going more than ten miles over the speed limit all the way home. As usual he was the first back so he went about his chores. First he started the oven then he decided to do laundry. He shared a hamper with his brother who put most of his socks and underwear in it but had to search about the room for a few strays. He dropped it all into the washer and started the machine. Another meal from the freezer in the warming oven and he set the timer. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He had thirty minutes of free time so he made his way back to his room where he dropped his bag, put the door stop on the inside against his bedroom door to keep anyone out and went to his computer. He opened his messenger and when he saw that Shane wasn’t online so he changed his settings on his web browser and typed in the address of his favorite porno site. </span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">A familiar splash page warning about underage users and then he was in looking at all the previews. Men and women, women and women, all familiar patterns of flesh that made him horny. He was deep in thought when his phone began to ring. He was ready to ignore it when it stopped and then started again immediately. He pulled the phone from his pocket and saw Brad was calling. He flipped it open and placed the speaker to his ear.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Dude what’s this I hear you were at a Gay-Straight Alliance?” Brad asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“What? Where did you hear that?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Don’t worry where I heard it. People are talking.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“People? What people?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Just tell me it’s because of a girl man. Some freshman pussy dragged you in there. It’s okay if that’s the case.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“And if it’s not?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There was a silence.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“What if I just went there because I wanted to go? What if I thought it was a good cause?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You queer? You can tell me.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I just thought I would go,” William replied. His face was getting really red and somehow he wasn’t afraid at that moment. He was angry. “It is a gay, <i>straight</i> alliance you know.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“So you’re straight? Then why would you go?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I don’t know.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I need to get him off my back, William thought, but I need him to still be my friend and to trust me. Trust me? What if I lie to him now? But what if I tell him I’m queer and he never wants to be my friend? Why does it matter? He needed a reason.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Look, I heard they were giving out condoms,” William said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Condoms? What do you need condoms for?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Making fucking water balloons. What else?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Brad burst into fake laughter then settled after a moment. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That’s good man. But seriously if you got some chick on the side and you haven’t told me then I’m gonna kick your ass. You got a girl or not?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No, not really,” William said. “But I heard they talked about stuff you know.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Gay stuff,” Brad said. “Dude if you wanted to find out about sex and get condoms then you could have just talked to me.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That’s kind of disgusting.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No more disgusting than a gay-straight alliance.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Whatever dude,” William replied.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Well, I’m gonna go then but we’ll talk tomorrow. The usual place.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Okay, see you tomorrow.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He flipped the phone closed and put it back in his pocket. He closed the pornography and was about to go check on dinner when Shane appeared on the messenger. A window popped up instantly with the message, “hello!”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William sighed. He clicked on the window and readied himself to type back when he decided he had other priorities. He set his messenger to away then went to check on dinner. He was bent over in front of the oven when the front door opened and he readied himself for the onslaught that was his family. His brother kicked off his shoes just inside the door and ran back to their room. His baby sister was crying and his father was fussing with her to try to satisfy her. He walked into the kitchen with her on his hip.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“How’s it going pal?” his father asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William looked to him and smiled. A fake smile but one his father wanted to see. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Fine,” he answered.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“With that mustache growing in your starting to look a little Mexican. A tall Mexican but still... I’m just kidding you. It’s those Italian ancestors.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That got fucked by the Moores,” William responded. His heart sunk as soon as he said it.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Hey, careful young man. That’s fine in the locker room but don’t curse around your brother and your little sister.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah,” William said. “So dinner is almost ready. I am going back to my room to make sure Bobby isn’t wrecking anything.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Just make sure to come back and check on dinner. Your sister is acting up tonight. I don’t think daycare went too well.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Okay,” William said before slipping away on his socks.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He slid down the hallway to his room where Bobby sat on his own bed in the corner of the room with a comic book in hand dressed in his boxers. William sighed at the image and made his way to his computer where he woke it from sleep to see there was a second message from Shane. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Want to hang out this weekend?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William clicked in the area to enter text. He wanted to say that he would be there. He wanted to type something to acknowledge the question. But how could he do anything now? He had to get as far away as possible or else people would find out. It would be over after that because whatever it meant. Gay or straight people would have their suspicions the rest of his life. No, it wasn’t right but that’s not how life works. There is no compassion as a general notion. </span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Apathy was the general feeling. It had to come down to something. No, it was all gone, irretrievable. The past was over. He could stand and fight but could he win? Not alone and who would stand with him? This curse upon his head in a world of rhyme and reason, where things made sense. But what was the curse? To be gay? Why?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He pushed the keyboard away and it slid out of the back of the drawer hit the wood floor and he heard the keys all pop out from their place. He listened to them clatter to the ground he gave a silent sigh. Well, he thought, that makes sense.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">As William drove to school the next day he couldn’t help but wonder why people, like himself, did all the things that were wrong to do. Why did he go to the club after school? Why didn’t he say he would hang out with Shane? Why did he have to keep lying? Lying about what? What did it mean to be gay anyway? Did you have to have sex with a guy once, twice? What if he did it and he didn’t like it? Could he have sex with a woman and what if he liked it? What if she liked it and wanted a relationship? Could he go back?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No, there was only going forward. To travel in one direction through time was both a gift and a curse. The future was always there for you to fix but the past was always something that followed you somehow in record and memory.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He made it to his locker without seeing either Shane or Brad and he grabbed his books for his first class and was ready to make a dash to hideout in the homeroom when he heard Shane call to him. He had been early enough to miss Brad but Shane, well he hadn’t counted on Shane to track him down.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Hey how’s it going?” Shane asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Fine, I guess.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You okay?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah, I’m fine. I just... I don’t know. Listen can we talk later?” William asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah, that’s fine. But you know I messaged you last night and you didn’t respond so I thought, you know I’d... I don’t know I did something wrong.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William looked around the hall. He couldn’t make sense of who was looking at them and if they cared so he looked back to Shane.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Listen, I don’t think I can hang out with you. I mean, well, it’s just I shouldn’t have gone to the club. It was just something to do and now that I have basketball I really have to train everyday.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“So you’re not coming back to the club?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No, I can’t. I mean it wouldn’t be right. The club is for you know... gay people and I’m not--”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“--it’s for straight people too. That’s why it’s a gay-straight alliance but if you don’t want to be there and you don’t want to be my friend then that’s fine.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No, I just. I mean I can’t come to the club.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“So do you want to hang out with me?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William felt his body warm and he was sure his skin was crimson. His hands felt sweaty so he wiped them against his jeans. He had to get out of this. He couldn’t be seen by Brad or anyone else. He regretted it but he had to get out.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I can’t. I mean like I said I have to practice and now when I’m not practicing I have school work and my brother and sister, my parents are wanting me to babysit more.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane stepped back with a decisive look in his eye.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I get it,” he said. “You don’t want to be friends with me. Look you don’t have to apologize. I’ve been treated like this my whole life. It’s no big deal because I don’t want to be friends with a liar.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane turned on his heels and walked away. William watched him go but he couldn’t say anything. That was done with, he thought. Gone and now he could move on with his life. He turned back to his locker, closed the door and locked it. Now he had to fix the rest of his life.</span></div>Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-59162522938710657332012-07-03T14:18:00.000-07:002012-07-05T22:21:21.747-07:00Pt. 4 Stay With Me- William, GSA<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">“Dude you should have been there last night at my place. Me and Rachel and Nadine watched that stupid movie and I got to wrestle with Rachel. She’s a tough chick man but I had a chubby the whole time and at one point I let her pin me to the ground. She sat right on my dick,” Brad told the story in a hushed but excited way as they stood at William’s locker. William faked a smile. It was their lives and they could do whatever they wanted but there was still something sleazy about the whole notion. Maybe Rachel was a slut or else Brad took advantage of her or maybe neither and they both wanted it.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">“Sounds fun,” William said. He let his books fall with a clunk to the back of his locker before pulling on his bag and closing the door. “You’ll have to invite me over next time and not after I’ve already got plans.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Aw harsh,” Brad said. “You could have come over though. What were you doin’ beatin’ your meat to some porn at the school library? Dude check your fuckin’ messages every once in a while.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I checked my messages but I was busy.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“So then you didn’t want to come over and if you didn’t want to come over then don’t blame me for missing out. But it was hot though. Rachel wants my dick.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They began to walk.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I’m sure she does. Everyone wants your dick.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That’s sick dude but kind of flattering,” Brad replied.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They separated at the next intersection and William was making his way to Trig class when he spotted Shane standing outside a classroom with a t-shirt that said, “Straight as an Arrow” and had a curved arrow underneath the words. He was about to look away when Shane waved to him so he nodded his head back in acknowledgment but kept walking. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After dinner the night before William had been up until midnight talking with Shane on messenger and trading MP3’s. They both were doing their homework at the same time so it was sporadic at times but for both of them it was the longest they had talked to a friend in years. Shane had mentioned he was going to try and be provocative the next day but he wouldn’t say what he was going to do. That’s provocative alright, William thought as he entered class.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Four hours later and William was in the locker room changing before practice. He had always found his own remote corner to change away from the rest of the guys. Most of them liked to talk and goof around with each other in the locker room. Some guys liked to walk around in their underwear and some liked to walk around naked while others just liked to tease everyone else and of course there was the hazing of the smallest guy, usually a freshman but sometimes it was even an unpopular senior. It was a good day when none of that happened but rarely did anyone say anything to William in the locker room. Even Brad who had once changed with him in a bathroom stall at a water park found his own place in the locker room.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Once he was dressed he stretched a little before closing the locker door and spinning the combination lock for security. When he made his way out to the court he thought for a moment that Rodney had called in sick and he was happy to have another day, another week without something being said. At least not anything more than what Nadine had said. But had she really said anything?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But then there he was aligned with the rest of the guys in front of coach. William took his place in line and readied himself for the coach’s instructions. He was ready to block out any fear when he heard someone laughing at the end of the line and he looked down to see Rodney nudging the guy next to him and gesturing down to William. At least it could have been to him or it might as well have been to him.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That’s enough,” coach said. “Alright I want all thirty-two of you to stretch.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William followed his routine until the coach told them all to stop.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I want you to dash to the opposite end of the court and back. Twenty times. The loser gets to be the captain of the skins during practice.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William gulped and looked down to Rodney who only stared straight ahead. He missed when the coach said to start and found himself running behind everyone else. Got to make up time, he told himself, and he began to run at double speed finding some renewed energy in some sense of desperation. He passed both guys on either side of him and found himself almost breaking away from them but he only managed to maintain a lead until finally the coach’s whistle blew. He stopped and the guys near him stopped as well. Even though he had run as hard as he could he feared the coach would still pick him but he was glad when he pointed out one of the freshman players was last and had to be the captain of the skins.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He was ready to rejoin his teammates when he felt the coach smack him on the butt and say, “good hustle out there. Better than I’ve seen you for some time.” He walked a little slower but joined his teammates. The guys broke into two teams and those with the slower runner quickly pulled off their shirts. William was glad he wasn’t on their team. He made his way with the rest of his group to the other end of the court where the captain picked out the starting players. He was happy Rodney was also on his side and put on the bench which meant they would spend little time on the court together. He took up his post as power forward and was ready to play until just before tip-off he saw Rodney gesturing his way again breaking his concentration. He didn’t see the tipoff and he didn’t see the ball which hit him squarely in the eye causing him to stumble back. It was such a shock that he barely had time to register the pain. Instead he turned and watched to his embarrassment as one of the skins dribbled the ball down the court and scored with an easy layup.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“When I tell you to keep your eye on the ball that’s not what I mean Stone. Now get after it.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William looked to the coach still dazed from the hit.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Alright you’re out Stone. Dillan get in there. Come on Stone hit the bench.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William followed the orders and made his way to the bench where he sat at the far end away from Rodney. He leaned forward on his knees and tried to shake out the cobwebs.</span></div>Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-34043660856394988672012-06-26T14:14:00.000-07:002012-06-26T14:14:00.616-07:00Pt. 3 Stay With Me- William, GSA<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The whole drive home different thoughts kept popping into William’s head. Pale buttocks, night swimming, skinny dipping... why had he said so much? Why did he say anything about trying out for the swim team? Or much less about his banana hammock and what exactly did that mean? Shane’s house was nice, much nicer than he had expected, much nicer than his own. He didn’t live in a shack but it felt more like ‘the Burrow’ from the Harry Potter books than Shane’s house. A humble three bedroom house where he shared a room with his younger brother by six years and his baby sister had her own room. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Banana hammock? Really he asked himself. All his thoughts came to an end when he flipped on the turn signal to enter the drive back to his house. A slow roll along a familiar gravel, dirt road around pot holes and cautious of crossing deer and wildlife though he still went ten miles faster than his father told him to ever drive. He slowed as his home came into view and he pulled into the parking spot where he killed the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. Just minutes ago he had driven Shane home and now the car seat was empty. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He pulled his phone from his pocket and looked through the messages as he retrieved his bag from his backseat. The messages were all from Brad and they all bragged about him being alone with two girls in his house.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William pulled his bag against his back before dialing Brad as he walked to his front door. Both his parents were at work and his brother and sister were still at daycare but he knew he had to get dinner started before everyone got home. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Hey man what’s going on?” Brad asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Just unlocking my door,” William said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Just getting home? Where you been? Dude I got two fine chicks at my place and- ouch, hey quit it--”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“--Who’s there?” William asked pushing open his own front door.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Just Rachel and Nadine but we’re playing strip poker-, ow, hey that’s not funny. We’re not actually playing strip poker but we’re watching a movie. My parents aren’t due home for another four hours or so.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Sounds like fun,” William said. He made his way into the kitchen where he turned on the oven, checked it for pots and pans then closed the oven door before heading back to his own room. “So what are you watching?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Some movie with Ashton Kutcher. It’s a total chick flick and he’s been shirtless like twice now and I don’t know man I’ve got a chubby going on so I think I might be turning gay. Either that or it’s the two hot babes I have in my house. Ow, that hurts.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Rachel and Nadine picked the movie?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Whatever works,” Brad said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Well I hope that works out for you,” William said. He wanted to hang up but he knew Brad had more to say and this was just step one in the process of getting him off the phone so he pressed the speaker button before setting the phone on his dresser and beginning to change out of his school clothes and into a pair of shorts and and old t-shirt.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Dude, so where were you. It turns out that they wanted you to come by after school. They were almost disappointed it was just me until I told them they could watch anything they wanted on the Pay-Per-View account.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He had to say something. But he had already said he just got home. “I was at school. I uh, ended up at the library doing some extra studying.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Dude there’s not even any tests and you're not a geek or a nerd,” Brad said. “And you totally ignored my text messages.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Well it was more interesting.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“What was more interesting? Did you lose internet again and stayed after to look at porn?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No way, besides the computers at school have the Net-Nanny and my computer at home, I disabled all of that long ago so I don’t even let my little brother on there. He has to use the one in the living room where my parents can keep an eye on him”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Dude that’s harsh. Your brother is like thirteen now and must be getting a hard-on all the time. He must really be keeping you up at night.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That’s sick dude. And he’s twelve and he doesn’t do that.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Maybe he does and you can’t hear it,” Brad said. “Maybe he jerks off into your socks at night. Ow, he really that hurts.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Who hit you this time?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Rachel, she keeps punching me in the arm. I think the girl is a lesbian because she can really swing. Don’t do it Rachel.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There was a thud and Brad yelled out in pain then clatter as William was sure the phone fell to the floor. A scramble, more noise then a new voice. It was Nadine.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">“Brad can’t come to the phone right now because him and Rachel are wrestling in the middle of the living room. She’s got him in a headlock and it doesn’t look like she is going to let go.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William picked up his phone and changed it back from speaker before walking from his room. “How’s it going Nadine?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Fine and your self?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Okay,” he said pulling open the freezer door. He pulled out the lasagna and began to open the box.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You weren’t really at the library were you?” she asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“What? No, I mean yeah, I mean why?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Nothing,” she said. “Hey I got to go before these two mount each other and it gets too disgusting. I’ll see you tomorrow.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Later,” William responded.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah,” Nadine said before ending the call.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Not at the library? Did she know something? It could have been Rodney. He sent a message to someone who sent a message to someone and what did he have to lose he showed up with his girlfriend. Only queers show up alone... No, that wasn’t right he had to come up with a reason why he was there. He was a straight ally, he thought, that wasn’t really a lie because he wasn’t necessarily gay. People might assume that but they also knew he was a nice guy and liked to help out. Was it such a leap between the two?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div>Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-89762689602120250022012-06-18T13:51:00.001-07:002012-06-18T13:51:14.124-07:00Pt. 2 Stay With Me- GSA William<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Two weeks had gone by and William nearly forgot about the ‘Gay Straight Alliance’ meeting until it was time to go again. He hadn’t seen any of the members since then and he was glad. He didn’t even have to go back if he didn’t want to. It could have been a fluke, some misunderstanding lost and forgotten. If anyone asked he could have said he walked into the wring room and wanting to be PC about it he stuck around and played nice but it wasn’t really his thing. That’s all it could have been but it wasn’t the truth. He didn’t know what the truth was. But was it wrong to ask?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The best of the days was when he got involved in the classes, in the assignments or playing basketball during gym class and he forgot about the end of the day. But it was like riding an uncontrollable wave because suddenly it would be back, the thought would be back and he kept debating about what to do.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In his last class he stuffed his book in his bag and thought for a moment to come up with some other plan, someplace else he had to be, some excuse to not be where he wanted to be. He pulled his phone from his pocket and texted Brad who was usually up for a game of basketball if he wanted to play or just hang out but Brad turned him down on the spot. “No can do,” he responded.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William pulled his book-bag over his shoulder and made his way down the hall his feet leading him back to Mrs. Gallagher’s classroom. He entered and made his way to the back of the room where Mrs. Gallagher and Shane had already arranged the desks with enough for William to have joined.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We’re glad you made it back,” Mrs. Gallagher said. It was a pretty lame thing to say but somehow her tone or her affectation was convincing and not sentimental.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Thanks,” William said before taking a seat.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Soon after Brittany showed. She was distressed about her Algebra test grade. She immediately began to talk about it. William was bored in an instant but Mrs. Gallagher humored her. Shane smirked at William and they both laughed silently about how little they could pay attention to Brittany but about how she could keep talking. They’re not friends, William thought. So who started the group? </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane and William began to mock Brittany sharing some secret, public joke when William noticed out of the corner of his eye two new people entering the room. At first he thought it was the two Heathers but when he looked more closely he found it was one of the Heathers and she was holding hands with a boy. William recognized him immediately and his stomach sunk. He didn’t know his name but he knew he was a freshman on the basketball team. Everyone looked to the new guest.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“This is my boyfriend Rodney,” Heather One said. “We’ve been dating since the seventh grade.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William sat back and crossed his arms. He was sure his face was bright red with embarrassment. Not only was he on the basketball team but he was confirmed, provably straight, dragged here by his girlfriend. If he could have run he would have. Man up, he thought, it doesn’t mean anything.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Join us we were just about to begin,” Mrs. Gallagher said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Rodney sat at the desk next to Heather One and continued to hold her hand. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“So it looks like Heather Two isn’t coming,” Mrs. Gallagher said. “Maybe we should start.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“So does this mean I can go back to just Heather,” Heather one asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Sure,” Mrs. Gallagher said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Now does anyone have anything to say?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They looked at each other. William decided he definitely wasn’t going to say anything. If he opened his mouth he didn’t know what would come out and if it happened to be sound he wasn’t sure what the quality would be.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Maybe some introductions?” Mrs. Gallagher asked. She gestured around the room then said, “I’ll go first.” She quickly introduced herself and he role.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I’m Shane.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I’m Heather.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I’m Rodney.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William looked around and then squeezed his toes into fists before saying, “I’m William.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Now does anyone have anything to share?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah,” Shane said. “There’s this guy in my gym class. He’s one of the few seniors in there and he’s kind of started this campaign against me. Mostly he just picks on me for being short and skinny but today he was making fun of my pale butt. I guess he saw it while I was changing and it was kind of weird. I mean guys kid each other but this guy has a hard-on for me or something.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They had been with him until he said ‘hard-on’ and then everyone cringed in their own way. William was sure that anywhere else there would have been a million jokes about how Shane secretly wanted the guy. He was surprised when Rodney began to speak until he heard all that he had to say.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“It’s true that guys just kid around. I mean it doesn’t have to mean anything. In the locker room after a game lots of things happen and lots of jokes are made. But like, it doesn’t mean anyone is gay. It’s not like I assume anyone here is gay or that anyone is gay just because they look or act a certain way.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“So it doesn’t mean anything?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No, I mean it doesn’t have to. It’s like all these revisionist historians saying people are gay for some reason or another.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Dude, that is the lamest thing you could have said. Revisionist historians? Where do you get your news from FOX?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane and Rodney stared at each other. Shane was ready to go head to head with him but it was a fight William was sure he wouldn’t win. William inhaled deeply readying himself to say something when Mrs. Gallagher spoke up.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Guys this isn’t the place to argue or debate. I think what Shane is trying to say is that he feels intimidated by this older boy and it’s not necessarily about being gay or straight but that it isn’t a one time incident. You said this has happened several times. Have you thought about going to the teacher?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No way,” Shane said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah,” Rodney agreed. “It’s between guys. You need to just tell him to back off.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Is that possible?” Mrs. Gallagher asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Maybe but he’s like a senior and he’s much bigger I think he’d kick my ass.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Shane,” Mrs. Gallagher said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“What, I’m just saying. He would.”</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Anyone else have thoughts about how he can deal with this?”</div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Kick him in the nuts,” Heather said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Everyone laughed. And in that fit of laughter William’s phone buzzed to let him know he received a text message. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible he pulled the phone from his pocket and flipped it open.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A message from Brad: “Dude where you at?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Maybe he wanted to hang out after all?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He looked around to the rest of the group but only Shane was staring back at him and he suddenly felt embarrassed for being rude. He was about to close his phone when he saw a second message that said: “chics at my house bring da beer.” William smiled because he knew that Brad didn’t really mean beer but he was curious about who he was hanging out with. He wanted to answer back but as everyone else started talking again he closed his phone and put it back in his pocket. He received three more messages before they stopped. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At the end of the meeting Heather left with Rodney still holding hands and Brittany was quick to follow them. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Two years and they are still attached at the hip,” Shane said. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William laughed. He wanted to stick around and he sensed that Shane wanted to say something so he decided to go slow.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mrs. Gallagher dragged her desk back to one of the aisles then asked the boys to help put the other desks back to which they obliged. Shane followed William to the classroom door and they were about to enter the hallway when he said, “I will never understand straight people.” William let out a little laugh and looked back to Shane who smirked back. So there it was a confession.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You’re a dangerous one,” William said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah, well maybe I’m just not safe.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And they fell into conversation easily all the way to the parking lot when William suddenly realized at fourteen Shane couldn’t possibly own a car and was just following him to keep talking. William made his way around the car tot he driver’s side door, opened it but stood with the door against his backside as they continued to talk over the top of the car.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Do you live around here?” William finally asked interrupting the flow of the conversation.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah, it’s not far. It’s a little walk.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William was about to say goodbye but decided on a whim to say the opposite and invited to drive Shane home.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“It would be silly,” Shane said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Come on,” William said. “It’ll be fine.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William unlocked the car doors and made quick work of clearing the passenger seat and footwell of trash and dirty clothes that he threw into the backseat. Shane pulled open the door, sat, and buckled up.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But it was difficult to start a conversation again and Shane only spoke to give directions which William followed. A path or turns and winding roads through suburbia until Shane pointed out his house and William pulled up into the driveway. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“It’s actually not that far when I walk because I take shortcuts,” Shane said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“It’s not a problem,” William replied.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“So this is it,” Shane said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yep,” William replied.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William looked up to the house. It was a large, planned model with an electric garage door, two stories, but looked very different from the houses around it so he knew it was a recent addition. Everything else was at least fifty years old. They were different shapes and styles but this house looked like something out of a magazine.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Nice house,” William said. “It’s better than mine.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Thanks,” Shane said. “It even has a pool in the backyard. A small above ground one but it’s a pool you know.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Definitely,” William said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Hey sometime you want to go swimming...”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You just want to see me in my trunks,” William said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“More like your Speedo,” Shane said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“My banana hammock? No one gets to see that except once when I tried out for the swim team in the seventh grade.” They both laughed. “Of course they said it was supposed to help us swim but I was afraid the thing would slip off the whole time.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Not that it leaves much to the imagination,” Shane said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Exactly, I mean what’s the deal with those things anyway? You’re in seventh grade, the height of puberty poppin’ </span>wood three times a day just because your body wants to and they make you wear that little thing.”</div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They laughed.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“When I was little and my parents could only afford a plastic pool for the front yard they wanted me to swim in my underwear but I was so embarrassed. I was more embarrassed then they were,” Shane said. “But now, when I get the chance I swim naked.” They laughed more. “I just keep a towel by the pool in case someone comes home unexpectedly but it’s a lot of fun.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I’ve never done that,” William said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Skinny dipping is the best. And of course there is that R.E.M. song Nightswimming that just says it all.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I never heard that song,” William said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You have to,” Shane said. “Have you heard any of R.E.M.?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William shook his head.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Are you on Facebook? Friend me and I’ll send you my messenger details that way I can send you MP3’s.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Really?” William asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Definitely,” Shane said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah okay,” William replied.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They were still grinning at each other sharing in that common joke of how foolish they were acting with each other. Laughing too much at what the other person said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Well I have to get going,” Shane said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah me too,” William replied. “But I will send you a friend request tonight when I get home.” </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane began to exit the car and William’s pocket began to vibrate. He pulled out his phone and flipped it open to see seven text messages from Brad. He waved to Shane who quickly made his way into his house and closed the door before he put his phone away and shifted into reverse.</span></div>Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7980684564117611360.post-21845260576110592052012-06-12T12:06:00.000-07:002012-06-12T12:11:17.407-07:00Pt. 1 Stay With Me- William GSA<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">At 6’2’’ William towered over most of his classmates. It was the beginning of his senior year and he was happy about several things. The first that it was his last year of school. There was this strange awareness on his part that it was a rite of passage. The second was college. He worried about the application process but he had managed to keep his grades up so he wasn’t worried about not getting in somewhere. Ivy League to him wasn’t even a possibility, state college or liberal arts college were more his league. His last year would be the toughest for GPA but he knew a tutor or two that would help. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Being tall meant he had been recruited for freshman basketball while in junior high. A power forward with speed and an aggressive instinct he loved to go for the rebounds and when he could dominate that part of the court but he was lousy at free throws so the other team fouled him when they could. He wanted to enjoy this last year because it was coming to an end and no matter how tall he was here he knew he would be short anywhere else. He didn’t even plan to try for an athletic scholarship despite his coach’s and his parent’s urging. They told him to ride the bench if he had to but he didn’t want to be there, not in college. He didn’t want to have to practice and train, to be the starting team’s whipping boy. Plus he was done with playing semi-professionally. All of the macho egoism would be too much. If it was this bad in high school it had to be worse in college, he thought.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Everything was set. He could see all the bumps in the road, the hills, the distance. It wasn’t going to be easy but it was all possible. Smooth sailing, he thought, just one thing. He didn’t know why he did it. His spine burned when ge got the flyer earlier that day and his brain almost shut down. He looked back at the elfish looking freshman with bracelets and necklaces, corduroy shirt and shaggy hair and he was confused. It was a flyer for a ‘Gay-Straight Alliance After School Club.” His feet were heavy but he kept walking. What did it mean? How had he been reduced to this? Was there some truth there? Some truth about what? </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When he saw his classmates he knew he had to get rid of the incriminating evidence so he tucked it into his bag. Why didn’t he throw it away? he thought. But he didn’t. And when his teammate Devin showed him his own flyer he was relieved for a moment until Devin crumpled it and threw it in the trash can then began to make fun of the organization. “What next,” he asked, “a club for beastiality?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William laughed along and he almost forgot about the flyer until the last period when he was cramming his books in his bag and it made a weird sound at the bottom of his bag. He pulled out the flyer and began to walk. Back and forth, lost in his thoughts, the flyer just had the classroom number and somehow he managed to find his way there. 8215, Mrs. Gallagher’s class, she would be involved with something like this, he thought. He stopped outside the door, almost turned back. What if it was a set-up? What if it was a bunch of kids in there looking to beat him up? He was about to run away and that’s when he found the courage. If he was going to run away then it was something worth fighting for, he thought. It didn’t have to mean anything. He turned back on his heels and went straight for the door handle. He pulled open the door and stepped inside. He heard a few voices already in conversation and was ready to turn back again when they stopped and he looked to the back of the classroom where five people sat in a half-circle.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mrs. Gallagher, three girls, and the elfish boy all looked to him. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Uh,” he said, “I’m here for the um, I’m here for the...” he didn’t want to say the word, that bad word, “the club.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Pull up a chair,” the elfish boy said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Welcome to our club,” Mrs. Gallagher added.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She had been his 9th grade history teacher and she was always including the plight of oppressed people in her lectures. She talked about the Jews in World War II, the Indians during colonization, the oppressed peoples of Mexico during the Mexican-American War. He had always liked her and he had gotten straight A’s in her class.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He made his way to the back of the room where he adjusted his book-bag before pulling a desk to where they sat. He didn’t recognize the girls but he presumed they were friends of the other boy, and they might be lesbians but they looked pretty straight to him. No, they were probably friends. That meant the elfish boy had to be gay. He looked pretty gay. William adjusted himself in his seat with his long legs stuck out awkwardly from under the desktop.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“So what are you?” the boy asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William looked up and looked him right in the eye. In one question he cut to the heart of the fear. He didn’t know if he wanted to run or fight.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Shane that’s not very polite,” Mrs. Gallagher said with her familiarly stern voice. “There are no labels here.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William forced a smile and looked around at the girls who began to eye him with some noticeable curiosity. Play it cool, he thought, no need to give up everything on the first date. They may just think he is a gay and be his best friend or else secretly wish he was straight and it could lead to dating. That would be a weird way to meet a girlfriend.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“So what’s your name?” one of girls asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“William,” he said. “What’s your name?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Brittany,” she said. “And this is Heather One and Heather Two.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Heather One and Heather Two?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“They are both named Heather so we gave them a number.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Heather One shrugged and said it worked for her.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That’s interesting,” he replied.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Otherwise it gets into a lot of confusion.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There was an awkward silence as everyone looked to Shane.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“What, you know my name,” he said gesturing to himself.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“But you haven’t introduced yourself,” Mrs. Gallagher said. “William I remember you from freshman class. You were a really good student.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Thanks,” William said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Shane sat back and crossed his arms. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I’m Shane,” he said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They stared at each other for a moment before Shane looked away to his desk.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We were just talking about the Day of Silence for next April and other things we can do to support each other and raise awareness for gays and lesbians on campus.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William nodded his head and they fell into silence again. Mrs. Gallagher continued to talk and soon Brittany, Heather One and Heather Two began to join the conversation but Shane only nodded or agreed with what they said. After another twenty minutes Mrs. Gallagher dismissed them. William moved for the door quickly and as he exited he looked back and forth before entering the hallway.</span></div>Bryan Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12257573843383941859noreply@blogger.com0