by EleCivil
Alone.
Were there
any other combinations of five letters as powerful as “alone?” It didn’t
feel like it to
It had been
days since he had last heard from Nathan. A couple quick emails followed
by what amounted to the electronic equivalent of an awkward silence. In
real life, such periods lasted a few minutes, maybe half an hour, tops.
On top of that, after the first few days, their real-life silences hadn’t
seemed awkward at all.
He had
planned to ride to school with Jill and Andrew, but they’d missed each other
somehow. He had still been hanging around with them, but they seemed to
be occupied a lot more often now.
His
thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of the school building
against his eyes. He realized then that, all romantic drama aside, he had
to face the more mundane but no less difficult dramatics of getting used to a
new school. It was only now that he wished that he had met some other
people over the summer, rather than staying cloistered in his tight but small
group. This was a building full of at least twelve hundred kids that he
had never met.
---------------------------------------
“Hey, what-“ Jerry had found himself speaking mainly in sentence
fragments since arriving for his first day of middle school. This was due
mostly to the fact that no matter where he went he was in someone’s way, and a
stiff-arm into the lockers was widely considered to be an acceptable substitute
for “Excuse me, sir, but you happen to be obstructing my intended path.
Would it bother you too greatly to take a step to the right? Thank you.”
Finding his
way around the school had been no problem during orientation. After all,
there had been only a fraction of the students present for each section, and
they all had their parents or guardians standing right next to them,
maintaining some kind of order. Now, however, there were no authority
figures in sight and the hallways were packed shoulder-to-shoulder. The
crowd felt like its own entity, moving through the halls like a single
serpentine organism rather than a group of independents.
Jerry
wished once again that his cousin hadn’t moved away. Now that he was
gone, he felt awkward hanging around with the others. He was sure that
Finally, he
found a restroom and ducked inside to double-check his schedule. He took
a deep breath, relieved to be out of the crowd. He had just unfolded his
schedule when he heard a voice behind him. Close.
“You lost?”
He started
to turn when he heard another voice to his side.
“She must
be lost.”
Did that
guy just say “she”? As in, a female pronoun?
Nah, must have misheard. After all, he wasn’t
the toughest-looking guy around, sure, but he was about as far from girly as
you could get.
“Definitely.” A third voice, now. He shoved his schedule into his pocket
quickly and turned to get a look at them. He was immediately grabbed by
the shoulder and walked out into the hall rather forcefully.
“See, this
is the men’s room.” He now recognized it as the first guy’s voice.
All three of them looked the same to Jerry – same haircuts, same kind of
clothes, same general build. They immediately gave off the impression of
being the kind of guys who would wear black leather on a ninety degree day.
They were a few inches taller than he was, but from where he was standing, they
might as well have been NBA players.
“Yeah.
You can’t use this one unless you have a dick. Kind of
a pre-requisite.”
“Don’t
worry, though, we’ll help you out.”
It took him
a little while to realize exactly what was happening – after all, he was Jerry
Hensley, taker of absolutely no crap from anyone. This was new. So
this was bullying, huh? No wonder it was always getting such a bad
rap. It sucked.
He felt
himself re-joining the crowd, now being pushed along by the three guys who had
accosted him in the restroom. Not for very long, though. Soon
enough, vision still obscured on all sides by a shifting cloud of shirt
slogans, he was shoved hard into a different room all together. A room
that looked a lot like the restroom he had just left,
but without the urinals.
“Girl’s room. Of course.” He said to
himself. “Got to hand it to those guys, they had their routine down.”
Now the
only question was how long he would have to stick around before those guys got
bored and wandered off to kick some puppies or something. Well, that, and
how to explain himself if-
“What the
hell?” The sudden female voice from behind him made him jump. “What
are you-“
“Bathroom attendant.” He interjected quickly, locking eyes with her and
tearing a sheet of rough brown paper from the wall dispenser. “Uh…Towel, ma’am?”
“Right.
You want to get out of here?” She snatched the paper towel from his hand
and pointed to the door.
“I guess a
tip is out of the question, then?”
“Smartass.”
“Actually,
it’s Jerry, but nicknames are fine with me.” He was trying his hardest to
stall long enough to give those guys a chance to leave, but judging by the
expression on the girl’s face, it wasn’t going to work for much longer.
“Are you
trying to fucking flirt with me in the middle of the girl’s room?
Do you not know how insanely creepy that is?”
“Uh…”
“Uh…”
She imitated, nodding toward the door. “Leave.”
“Look, I
don’t want to be in here any more than you want me in here, okay?”
“Then…Oh!”
She said, her voice losing its edge. “You’re cornered, aren’t you? Restroom Refugee?”
“Yeah,
‘cornered’ pretty much covers it.”
She stuck
her head out the door and looked around before leaning back in. “Coast is
clear. Get out of here.”
Jerry
started forward, but at the last second leaned backwards against the wall and
crossed his arms.
“I don’t
know, now I’m starting to like it here. Not as crowded as the hallway.”
“Look, I’m
not setting you up; there’s no one out there. Get out.” The edge
was coming back, slowly but surely.
The bell
rang loudly in the hall.
“Alright.
Now we’re late. Get to class. Tell them you got lost or
something. They’ll believe it, clueless as you look.” She sounded
more and more exasperated with each syllable.
“What about
you?”
She let out
a sort of groaning sigh and let her shoulders sink. “I’ll tell them I got
stuck helping some clueless Sixie. Come on, just go already.” Now
Jerry was being forcefully led by the shoulders yet again, this time by a girl
just a little taller than himself. Whoever said that middle school was
the time to start showing signs of independence didn’t know what they were
talking about.
“Wait.”
He said, grabbing the side of the door. “I didn’t get your name.”
“No, you
didn’t. God, go to class already!”
He gave her
his best possible attempt at puppy-dog eyes. She let out another one of
those groaning sighs, but was obviously suppressing a smile.
“Karen.
Now leave.”
“Later.”
He gave her a quick salute and set off in the direction of…well, he wasn’t sure
which direction he was setting off in, but at least the halls were empty.
Plus, he’d met a girl. He’d met a girl on the first day – an event spoken
of in near-mythical standards between the other guys in his grade. He
made a mental note to keep hanging around with Andrew, awkwardness aside, to study
more of the ways of the smooth-talker.
---------------------------------------
Andrew, of
course, would say that being a successful smooth-talker isn’t something that
you can learn. It has to be hard-wired into one’s system in some
mysterious way. Kind of like being a homosexual or a Jedi, he surmised.
He slid
into his desk and kicked one leg up against the back of the empty chair in
front of him in a classic passive display of dominance. Yeah, he knew how
this worked. It established him as a self-proclaimed big-shot who thinks
he owns the place. Then, when someone came to sit down in that seat, he
would graciously drop his leg with a smile and a nod, further establishing him
as a nice, approachable guy. Getting on the higher social tiers was never
a problem for Andrew – just learn the rituals, keep a laid-back expression, and
breeze through the school year.
His mark
swaggered in and moved toward the seat directly in front of him. But
wait, this wasn’t right. This wasn’t some downtrodden average guy that
would make him look good for turning over the seat, no; this was one of the
tough guys. The kind that would make him look like he
was submitting to a higher power. Damn, this whole class was lost
to him now, all thanks to this wild-card who obviously didn’t know the ritual.
The tough
guy, an eighth grader by the name of Mike something-or-other, strolled right up
to the desk and dropped his backpack to the floor with a thud. He shot
Andrew a look that made him lower his foot immediately, and then sat
down. Andrew realized then that this was Mike’s ritual. Even though
it broke his own ritual and more-or-less lost this class for him, he couldn’t
help but admire the guy’s strategy. He had successfully taken a big-shot
down a notch and established his own dominance just by sitting down. Impressive.
He glanced
around to see if anyone else had picked up on that little power-play. Oh,
they definitely noticed the motions, but as far as he could tell, he and Mike
were the only ones to really understand what just happened. He raised the
corners of his lips and nodded. A rival, and an
educated one at that. At least one class was going to be interesting.
---------------------------------------
It was a
typical first day for everyone – every teacher went through the same rules,
made the same pronunciation errors in everyone’s name, and sent them off with a
stack of the same forms to be filled out by parents and/or guardians and/or
students who happened to be adept at forgery. Like all first days, it
seemed to flash past and drag on forever at the same time. After a blur
of boredom and clock-watching,
He could
tell even before stepping into the classroom that the rumors had gotten
around. While most rooms had students milling around the door or leaning
against the walls talking to each other, this one was way too quiet. He
stepped in to see that every kid in the room was seated and facing
forwards. Granted, it didn’t look like there were any crazy-types in the
room just yet, but it was still unnervingly orderly. Especially when you
considered that the teacher wasn’t even in the room yet.
He scoped
out a seat off to one side, close to the windows. Sitting to far back
made you look like a wannabe rebel, sitting too close to the front made you
look like a nerd, sitting in the middle meant being surrounded on all sides,
with no safe place to look in the event of awkward moments. Sitting by
the side windows seemed to have few immediate implications, so he went with
that whenever possible.
As an added
bonus, being next to a window gave him a free excuse to get lost in thought and
stare off into space without getting too many odd looks. To most, it
would look like he was just appreciating nature, when in reality he was
daydreaming about Nathan. Just thinking about him brought an
all-too-familiar feeling to his guts, a simulated seasickness that made him
feel hot and cold at the same time. He knew there was no way that could
be good for you, but his brain seemed intent on sickening him in every spare
moment. Did it not understand what it was doing to him? He didn’t
doubt it. After all, he didn’t quite understand, either.
He thought
back to the previous night, when he had gone through the usual routine of
checking his email. He’d practically held his breath watching the
progress bar creep its way across the screen, hoping that he could hear from
Nathan. Asking himself, “Is this it? Is
this going to be the end of the silent period right here? Will I be
reading some comforting ‘I love yous’ and ‘I miss yous’ in just a few
seconds?” Perfectly normal – that’s what he had been thinking ever since
he had left. But then something new had hit him, something that he wasn’t
ready for at all. Somewhere, deep in the back of his head, where he kept
all of his darkest, most unwelcome thoughts, he’d heard himself thinking “I
hope not.” He didn’t like this thought. He hated it. It
wasn’t his, couldn’t be his, it had to have been some other thought, lost on
its way to someone else’s neurons because of some misprint on the psychological
road map.
He didn’t
want to think about it, but his brain didn’t want to listen. Every time
he had a few free moments, it came back to him: “I hope not.” Stupid brain. Always trying to
complicate things. Stupid adults.
Always moving around and leaving the kids disoriented. Stupid
school, stupid world, stupid love. Love?
Is that what it was, really? Or was it just a couple of shy, gay kids
latching on to the first other shy, gay kid they could find? Some kind of survival instinct? Was it possible that
it wasn’t love at all, that love is something completely different and even
more confusing? He didn’t think he could take that. Maybe love just
wasn’t for him. Thirteen and burned out. Maybe he could become a
jaded poet or something.
The bell
rang and the door closed, drawing
Ex-truck yard security guard.
He had the
feeling that had this been animated, his eyes would have just bulged across the
room, accompanied by a sound not unlike a train whistle.
It had been
a while, and he wasn’t in uniform now, but there was no question – the guy’s
face had been more-or-less burned into his memory during an early-morning car
ride some months ago. It was the guard, the one he had only known by his
stupid code name, Saint Jake. It was impossible, right? Things like
that don’t happen in real life. And yet, here it was, happening.
“Jeffries,
Cameron.”
“Here.”
The class
went the same as all the others – follow these rules, sign these forms, cover
these books – and was let out at five till three. Being the last class of
the day on the first day of school, it emptied out fairly quickly, and
---------------------------------------
“I’m going
to go crazy. Yeah, that’s it. Insane.” Nathan said to
himself, sitting up and turning off his CD player. He had been lying on
the floor of his room, staring at the ceiling. “It’s got to be
today. It’s got to be. Or I’m going to go crazy. Nathan,
you’re talking to yourself. Yeah, I know. Today.
Definitely.”
He had
sworn to himself days ago that he would come out to his father. As
incentive, he had also sworn that he wouldn’t let himself talk to
He had
first decided to tell him on the drive home, somewhere on the Turnpike,
maybe. Just as he thought he had worked up the nerve to do it, images of
his dad twisting the wheel in shock and plowing into a semi-truck flooded into
his head, more or less putting a damper on those plans. Then came the
promise to himself that he would do it as soon as they
got home. Once again, broken. Then came the promise that he would tell him first thing in the
morning. Or maybe first thing in the morning the next
day. Or maybe after he came home from work on
the next day.
As a last
resort, he had imposed this no contact rule on himself, and it was driving him
nuts. He had to do it now, because at the current rate, he would end up
coming out to his dad right after graduation. From
college. After he had earned a PhD.
Or two.
Even after
a few days, his room still felt strange to him. It was the same as he had
left it, with all the same posters and furniture and even the rack for his
juggling props on the wall, but for some reason, he still felt like he belonged
in that nearly empty space in his Aunt’s house. He pulled out his wallet
and took out a small picture of
The more he
thought about it, though, the more anxious he got. Not just about telling
his dad, but about talking to
---------------------------------------
“Dad?”
“Nate!
How was school?”
“Good.
Best day yet.” School didn’t start for another
week, but that was the way they had always greeted each other, even during
summer vacation. “Uh…can we talk?”
“Yeah, of course. What’s on your mind?”
“It’s
just…some stuff came up while I was living with Aunt Julie, and…” He
trailed off, his eyes coming to rest on a stray mark on the wall.
His father
didn’t make any move to hurry him along – he’d seen Nathan do this before, and
it always indicated nervousness. He had been waiting for his son to
really talk to him ever since they had gotten reunited, and the last thing he wanted
to do was scare him away.
“Dad, I
think…” Nathan said, “I think I might be…gay.”
“What…”
Adam had to pause to clear his throat. “What makes you think that?”
“I guess
because I’m not really into girls. At all.”
“That
doesn’t mean-“
“And
because I am into guys. A lot.”
“Oh.
Well, that still doesn’t mean that you’re gay, necessarily.”
“I’m pretty
sure that’s the definition of gay, Dad.” He forced out a nervous laugh.
“What I
mean is, it might just be a phase or something.
At your age, a lot of guys…” Now it was his turn to trail off. To
be honest, he had no idea how to finish that sentence. He had no idea
what to say at all. This wasn’t like the first “The Talk”, where he could
just read some books and relay some tired messages about brain chemicals,
cells, and nocturnal emissions and call it over with. This was the big
leagues, top of the list in the “Man, I hope I never have to answer THAT”
chapter of the parent handbook. But now his son was looking at him expecting
an answer, and looking extremely on edge on top of it. It was time for
some major improvisation.
“Um…I guess
what I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t label yourself like that. At least, not yet. The thing about labels is that once
you agree to one, you start trying to live up to it. Who knows, you might
just be going through a phase, but if you decide to label yourself one way or
another right now, you won’t give yourself a chance to really grow into…into
who you are.” Not bad, he thought.
“Oh…okay?”
Nathan’s hands were shaking slightly. He still looked nervous.
‘Arg, what
didn’t I say?’ Adam thought to himself, going back over what had just
happened. Nathan was still looking up at him expectantly. He had to
say something, but what? If only he had some time to do some research or
something. He looked so nervous, there had to be something else.
Considering the place he had just spent the last few months, the worst sprang
to mind.
“Did…someone
touch you?”
Nathan’s
eyes widened for a second. “What do you mean?”
“Did anyone
ever try to…” He paused, trying to think of the
best way to put it. Nathan let out a deep breath in realization.
“No, no,
nothing like that. This isn’t because I was
molested or anything.”
Queue
another release of a deep breath, this time from the elder Hensley in the room.
“Oh, okay.”
Nathan was
having a hard time keeping any eye contact. He shifted his weight between
his feet, keeping his eyes on the carpet. After a few minutes of silence,
he turned and started back toward his room. Adam started in the direction
of his own room, but stopped abruptly when he touched the doorknob. He
realized right then what he had forgotten to say. He nearly cracked his
head against the door out of frustration with himself.
“Nate!”
He called across the room, getting his son’s attention. He strode over
and kneeled in front of him, placing a hand on one of his son’s
shoulders. “Whether you decide that you’re gay or not, I’ll always love
you. Don’t forget that.”
Nathan
seemed to perk up and relax at the same time, if that was physically
possible. Neither one of them being too comfortable in these kinds of
situations, the moment hung there for a few seconds before falling flat. They
each retired to their bedrooms in order to think things through in private.
---------------------------------------
“Hello?”
“
“Nathan!?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh,
wow. Hang on, I’ve got to…okay.”
“What was
that?”
“Had to smuggle the phone into my room. I’m not supposed to get calls
after ten.”
“Ten?
It’s only…oh, right. Time zones.”
“God, I
miss you.”
“I miss
you, too. I keep having these fantasies where I run away and take a bus
to Gordon. Then I find you, standing by the tracks, and-”
“No!”
“What?”
“No, you
can’t do that!”
“I know, I
wasn’t really-“
“Promise me
that you won’t.”
“Do you
really think I’m the type that would-”
“I’m
serious! Promise me!”
“Why do you
sound so scared about me coming to see you?”
“It’s…nothing.
You just…you can’t do that. Promise me!”
“All right,
fine. I promise I won’t come visit you, if the thought of seeing me makes
you so upset.”
“That’s not
what I meant!”
“Forget
it.”
“Man, don’t
give me that. You’re the one who just decided to stop writing all of a
sudden, without even saying goodbye.”
“I only did
that so I could tell my dad!”
“Tell him
what?”
“That
I’m…you know. Gay.”
“You told
him?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you
tell him about us?”
“No.”
“Oh.
So not only am I not important enough to take five minutes to email, but I’m
also not important enough to mention to your dad.”
“What’s
with you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.
You’re acting all…defensive and creepy.”
“And you’re
not?”
“I think ‘I
don’t want to see you’ is a pretty good reason to be defensive.”
“I never
said that, and I think that just ignoring me for a week is a pretty good
reason, too.”
“Whatever.
Write me when you’re not being such a…”
“What?”
“I don’t
know. A lot of things. I can’t decide
which one. Later.”
---------------------------------------
What was
Nathan’s problem? All he did was tell him not to run away from
home. The very mention of it had made hi skin crawl. After his own
experiences, he wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy, let alone his
boyfriend. Or was it ex-boyfriend? Was that it? Was that how
it was going to end? The most powerful, beautiful feelings he had ever
felt, shot to pieces in one heated long-distance call?
---------------------------------------