|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 6, 2007 16:57:37 GMT -5
Oooh, I'm psychopsam! I want to add you toooo!!! What's yours? I'm Vannaloo.  Echo, could you post the link to your user profile so I can be your buddy? Either way, here's Chapter Seven! Sometimes I look back on that week, and think, “How the hell could I not have known I had a crush on Kara?”
It was so obvious. Every time I approached her, my hands got all clammy and my heartbeat sped up. I went a little paler than normal, and I would often be unable to answer some of the most simple questions. How come I didn’t recognize this as love? How come I didn’t know this was what a crush was? Maybe I was denying it, or maybe I really sincerely didn’t know. But, either way, the outcome was the same.
I was in love with Kara Armond.
It was Thursday, and I was sitting at a table with her, working on the social studies project we were assigned. We were putting the finishing touches on our final political cartoon, and I looked at her. The way those curls tumbled down her neck on to her shoulders was perfect, and I took great joy in noticing that she put her hand to her chin the way I always did. She was outlining what I had drawn in pen, and I was really glad we were just together, working together. It was at that moment that I finally gave in. I knew it was true, and there was no other explanation.
I was in love with Kara Armond.
“So, what do you think?” she asked, showing me the newly outlined picture. It was perfect, and I’m not saying that just because I was crushing on her. Her artistic ability, when it came to perfection, was off the charts. She had it perfectly outlined, and the black ink shone perfectly against the white paper. My small human figures seemed to be greater now that they were more bold, and even the speech bubbles looked like they were more grand. I smiled as I saw our finished work in its glory. We were finally done with all of our political cartoons, and we had some free time to talk about things.
“You better have talked to her already,” Kara said, putting the paper into our group folder. I thought it was really cute how she curled the S in my name on our folder, and I thought it was nice that she dotted her I’s with stars instead of hearts. She seemed totally perfect.
“Who was I supposed to talk to again?” I asked, concentrating on something else. “Oh, you mean Ally?” I asked, blushing. I had a crush on her, and she knew about this whole thing with Ally having a crush on me. It didn’t seem at all like she was jealous, like I hoped she would be, but then again, she had a bit of insider information. She knew I didn’t like Ally back.
“Yes I mean Ally. You’ve talked to her, right?” I had a strange feeling she knew the answer already, but if she really thought I had no capacity for love, maybe she would stop liking me, if she did already. I froze up, not knowing what to say.
“Um…I don’t think I remember very well,” I answered, following up with an innocent smile.
“Oh, how could you not have talked to her yet? You need to tell her sooner or later, and if you don’t do it sooner rather than later, she is going to find out on her own and she is going to be hackin’ tinkled.” That little vocabulary, hackin’, was stolen by a popular strand of Youtube videos called the “Fred” videos, and they were extremely popular in our school.
“Wait, I never said I didn’t talk to her,” I countered, putting up my hands as a sign for her to stop talking. If there was anything I didn’t want to do, it was look stupid in front of her, but maybe that was part of my charm, because she gave me one of those you think I don’t know better glares and a sly smile.
“James, you haven’t talked to her yet,” she pointed out.
“Well, maybe that’s true, but you have to admit, that’s a really tough situation. I mean, if your best friend, who was a boy, of course, was crushing on you, wouldn’t you try and avoid talking to him?” I asked her in hopes that she wouldn’t be able to answer. If I could outsmart her, maybe she would be a bit stifled and focus on me more. I had this strange idea that she liked me back, although I didn’t know that for a fact, and was definitely not willing to ask, and I thought that any plus on my side was a plus on her side as well.
“No! I would totally talk to him right away. Maybe that’s the difference between girls and boys. Girls aren’t stupid.” She shrugged and smiled, somehow predicting my reaction.
“What are you talking about, ‘You would totally tell him right away?’ No you wouldn’t!” I countered, shaking my head. I knew that she wouldn’t, that that wouldn’t be the way anyone could handle it. I mean, sure, I wasn’t all that good at the love thing, and, yes it was true that I was always hesitant, but this was my best friend’s feelings on the line. This wasn’t any average Jo(anne), this was someone I really cared about, and the fact that I didn’t want to hurt her feelings made me less likely to talk to her about the whole thing.
“I really think you should. We’ll talk about this later,” she said, looking up at the clock. Almost as soon as she did the bell rang, and we were all rushing out of class. My heart was still thumping, but arguing with her made me think less about her, and more about the problem at hand. Maybe she was right. I mean, if only Tyson had told me to get it over with, I would have had trouble doing it and knowing it was the right thing, but the fact that Tyson and my new crush were telling me to talk to her, I was on the fence. Were they right? Would it develop into something horrible if I didn’t talk to her about it? I’d never seen this happen before. There was no book I’d read involving this problem, no movie I’d seen, no song I’d heard. Why didn’t anyone write about this kind of stuff, anyway? I think it would make for great book material!
At lunch, I sat down at my normal table, and then looked around. Only Tyson was sitting down, when normally Ally was with us too. She was normally the first one here. “Where’s Ally?” I asked, looking around.
“She went home early today. She’s really sick. She has this kind of bug thing, that’s really got her stomach. I feel bad for her too, she’s been so worried lately and there’s a lot on her mind. I think you talking to her would really help, considering there’s more than just my secret on the line.”
I bit my lip, knowing what he meant. Our friendship, that was what he was talking about. I didn’t want it to be strained, awkward, or snap altogether. I liked life more when I was just oblivious, when I didn’t know anything. But that life is a lie. Maybe it was better for me to know. But then I thought about the fact that she was living a lie. I didn’t tell her that I knew, and my heart sank. I had finally figured out for myself that I needed to tell her. But how? That was what I hadn’t had all figured out yet. What was I supposed to say, supposed to do? Was I supposed to get her flowers? But that would make her think I liked her. But then, should I even do it in person, or maybe over the phone. Tyson talked about his sister having a telephone break up, and she wished that he’d done it in person, so maybe he had to do it standing at her doorstep. But that would be awkward, because it would be too public. Man, I needed help.
That’s why Tyson and Kara were there.
“Hey guys,” she chirped as she sat down at the table. Her face seemed a bit brighter than in the social studies room, maybe because it was lunch time, but it seemed brighter nonetheless. On her plate was a nice green salad, topped with some cheese and dressing, and a few carrots resting on the side. Kara was a vegetarian.
“Okay, I need to figure out what to do,” I told them, getting right down to the point. My stomach started churning, so I didn’t start my lunch. Tyson nodded and Kara looked at him, kind of wondering how he would react. Everyone knew that Tyson was good at this kind of stuff. He was the observer, the one who looked at people and saw how they reacted. He listened, and therefore he learned. So if anyone knew how to deal with the situation, he did, at least from my point of view.
And there was Kara, who knew how a girl wanted everything. She knew whether or not to break up at a doorstep or at a restaurant. She knew all about what presents to give, and what letters to write, and what things to include in a let-down speech. She knew what a girl wanted in the situation, and even though she hadn’t been in one before, the safety-net of her hypotheses were all I needed to pull through this.
Dynamic duo. Just different this time.
“So, you’re finally agreeing to do this,” Tyson confirmed, looking around and making sure no one was listening in. Kids at my school had a tendency to eavesdrop on conversations they weren’t welcome in; that’s how rumors spread so fast. But, seeing that the coast was clear, he went on. “The first thing you need to do is secure a private place for the two of you to meet tomorrow. So, tell a teacher you need their room for two minutes, and if they say yes, you’ve got to tell her you want to talk to her after school. That’s where you’re going to tell her everything.”
“A private room? Got it. Wait, two minutes? That’s all the time it’s going to take? What about when she cries, and me comforting her? That will take way longer than two minutes,” I argued, my countenance somber when I remembered the feelings that would come into play.
“If you do this right,” Kara said, immediately coming to Tyson’s defense, “she won’t be crying.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe I could get through this, considering she wouldn’t cry. That was all I was worried about; her feelings for life and for our friendship. I valued it too much to taint it or let it go, and just the fancy that she would just get through it okay and not cry, and her heart would not fall to such a point that it would shatter when it hit the ground, that made me happy for some reason. That made me feel that I was ready to do whatever I needed to, that I wasn’t just James anymore, that I was a new James. That I was a changed James. I was a stronger James.
“Okay, so what do I need to do?”
Tyson and Kara looked at each other again. I got the strange feeling they were hiding something, but there was no time to think about that now. The more you think about it the more you’ll want to know.
“You don’t need to do anything specifically, it’s all a small idea compared to the big one. What I mean to say is…well, you just need to be able to know the fact that it all comes naturally. We’re just here to tell you if your natural instinct is wrong or right. You ask the questions, we’ll give you our opinion. After all, this is your problem, technically, and though we can help, it’s you who has to ultimately solve it on your own. So, my friend, fire away.” Tyson smiled, leaning back in his chair as if to say hit me with your best shot, even though you’re probably not going to ask me a question until you realize how much you need to do this.
“Tyson’s right. Your problem, not ours. So, you need to figure it out on your own. We can help though.” As soon as I heard Kara’s voice, a chill shot up the back of my spine. She was actually talking to me about this, about love; she was trying to help me let another girl down. So maybe, the small chance of chances, maybe she liked me back. I sure hoped so.
“Okay, so do I tell her we’re still best friends, or does that sound really bad in anyway?” I was pretty sure I knew the answer to that one, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. Any help I could get from those two was what I was going to take. It was like having this huge field of wheat during harvest, and only reaping half of it, even if part of it is slightly rotten. I needed to take full advantage of the session we were having, because it really was important to me. Even if it was only my first let down, I was going to make sure it wasn’t my worst.
“No, tell her that. The more close to you she can stay, the happier she’ll be,” Kara advised me.
“And what about me eventually telling her. Should I be like, ‘I don’t like you back,’ or, maybe, ‘I don’t feel for you in that way?’ I don’t know, I don’t want it to be too confusing, like straight-to-the-point, but I don’t want it to sound harsh either, because that might hurt her feelings or something, if you get my drift.”
“Well, I guess what I would do is say, ‘I know you like me, and I really do like you as a friend. Trust me, I do, but I don’t have feelings for you like that.’ Something like that. It’s not perfect, but you can tweak it to your liking.” Tyson looked really serious, unlike he normally was. Come to think of it, he had been a lot more serious recently, and I was surprised in any rare moment when he was his normal self: happy, carefree, just an altogether fun person. I missed those moments, where everything was okay again, where we were normal, where we were free of the crushing trauma of the teenage years. I missed the years where there was no drama, where fun was easy to come by, the hermit crabs under the rocks. But eventually we had to grow, and with growing come those obstacles that are hard to overcome. It would all be good in the long run, I thought, it would, but for now I just had to do this. After that, I would be free to roam, as free as a bird, as free as I wanted.
But for now, I just had to wait.
“Okay, I think I’m ready. Somewhat,” I said, after firing off about a billion questions. I compiled a list in my mind, of things to do and things not to do. It was a pretty big list, but it was still broad, so that I could narrow it down myself. I knew that I needed to use a soft tone, but I didn’t know exactly what to say, and I knew how to react if she started to cry, but I didn’t know how to react if she was hiding her feelings inwardly. In other words, it was partly my decision, one that I would have to take careful consideration to make. However disastrous it was going to turn out, it would never be as disastrous as if I never did it at all, leaving us in that pit of confusion and chaos. And I knew that I was being brave, but it was also a test of humility. I needed to be down-to-earth, to realize that she was my equal as much as I was hers, and that I did not have power over her in any way, no matter how much in love with me she was. It was this whole thought process I had to get through my head, this whole philosophy. But the best part about it was I had realized it, I had created it myself. I didn’t need help from Tyson. I didn’t need help from Kara. This was by my standards, developed by my design. And for that reason, I felt strangely confident in it, that this was where my heart was telling me to go, and I definitely needed to follow that path. It was like that room people dream about, that dark room, where the only way you can go straight. Except, in my dream, my fantasy, I had nothing to worry about, because that straight line was my only path. It was the only way I had to that happiness, that relief I longed to feel. The relief of awkwardness, the relief of worry. The relief of that pile of guilt slowly building up in the pit of my stomach. My only wish was to be relieved.
“Well, I’m glad you’re deciding to talk to her, really especially glad. Really, if you didn’t, things would be really bad for you and her right now. Maybe she would have been really mad at you.” Kara wiped her eye and looked at Tyson. They were like my parents. Not in the literal sense of course, but they were really good at guiding me in the right direction. They acted as the voices in my head, telling me what to do, or at least giving me advice (no matter how bad the advice was). For the first time I was greatful for their amazingly annoying nagging and pestering that had gotten me to change my mind. I knew this was the right thing to do. But, wait, did she say Ally would have been mad?
“Why would Ally be mad at me?” I asked.
They looked at each other, and Tyson took a deep sigh. They were definitely hiding something from me, but what was it, exactly. Was there a deep dark secret that they both had together? Was this what Tyson was talking about, that dark secret that I couldn’t know about. Were they a couple? My heart raced as did my mind. I looked at them confusedly, my eyes sparkling a little bit, and I knew they were going to tell me, because they couldn’t hold off on me any longer.
“Ally knows.” |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 6, 2007 18:41:56 GMT -5
I'm Vannaloo. Echo, could you post the link to your user profile so I can be your buddy? Either way, here's Chapter Seven! Sometimes I look back on that week, and think, “How the hell could I not have known I had a crush on Kara?”
It was so obvious. Every time I approached her, my hands got all clammy and my heartbeat sped up. I went a little paler than normal, and I would often be unable to answer some of the most simple questions. How come I didn’t recognize this as love? How come I didn’t know this was what a crush was? Maybe I was denying it, or maybe I really sincerely didn’t know. But, either way, the outcome was the same.
I was in love with Kara Armond.
It was Thursday, and I was sitting at a table with her, working on the social studies project we were assigned. We were putting the finishing touches on our final political cartoon, and I looked at her. The way those curls tumbled down her neck on to her shoulders was perfect, and I took great joy in noticing that she put her hand to her chin the way I always did. She was outlining what I had drawn in pen, and I was really glad we were just together, working together. It was at that moment that I finally gave in. I knew it was true, and there was no other explanation.
I was in love with Kara Armond.
“So, what do you think?” she asked, showing me the newly outlined picture. It was perfect, and I’m not saying that just because I was crushing on her. Her artistic ability, when it came to perfection, was off the charts. She had it perfectly outlined, and the black ink shone perfectly against the white paper. My small human figures seemed to be greater now that they were more bold, and even the speech bubbles looked like they were more grand. I smiled as I saw our finished work in its glory. We were finally done with all of our political cartoons, and we had some free time to talk about things.
“You better have talked to her already,” Kara said, putting the paper into our group folder. I thought it was really cute how she curled the S in my name on our folder, and I thought it was nice that she dotted her I’s with stars instead of hearts. She seemed totally perfect.
“Who was I supposed to talk to again?” I asked, concentrating on something else. “Oh, you mean Ally?” I asked, blushing. I had a crush on her, and she knew about this whole thing with Ally having a crush on me. It didn’t seem at all like she was jealous, like I hoped she would be, but then again, she had a bit of insider information. She knew I didn’t like Ally back.
“Yes I mean Ally. You’ve talked to her, right?” I had a strange feeling she knew the answer already, but if she really thought I had no capacity for love, maybe she would stop liking me, if she did already. I froze up, not knowing what to say.
“Um…I don’t think I remember very well,” I answered, following up with an innocent smile.
“Oh, how could you not have talked to her yet? You need to tell her sooner or later, and if you don’t do it sooner rather than later, she is going to find out on her own and she is going to be hackin’ tinkled.” That little vocabulary, hackin’, was stolen by a popular strand of Youtube videos called the “Fred” videos, and they were extremely popular in our school.
“Wait, I never said I didn’t talk to her,” I countered, putting up my hands as a sign for her to stop talking. If there was anything I didn’t want to do, it was look stupid in front of her, but maybe that was part of my charm, because she gave me one of those you think I don’t know better glares and a sly smile.
“James, you haven’t talked to her yet,” she pointed out.
“Well, maybe that’s true, but you have to admit, that’s a really tough situation. I mean, if your best friend, who was a boy, of course, was crushing on you, wouldn’t you try and avoid talking to him?” I asked her in hopes that she wouldn’t be able to answer. If I could outsmart her, maybe she would be a bit stifled and focus on me more. I had this strange idea that she liked me back, although I didn’t know that for a fact, and was definitely not willing to ask, and I thought that any plus on my side was a plus on her side as well.
“No! I would totally talk to him right away. Maybe that’s the difference between girls and boys. Girls aren’t stupid.” She shrugged and smiled, somehow predicting my reaction.
“What are you talking about, ‘You would totally tell him right away?’ No you wouldn’t!” I countered, shaking my head. I knew that she wouldn’t, that that wouldn’t be the way anyone could handle it. I mean, sure, I wasn’t all that good at the love thing, and, yes it was true that I was always hesitant, but this was my best friend’s feelings on the line. This wasn’t any average Jo(anne), this was someone I really cared about, and the fact that I didn’t want to hurt her feelings made me less likely to talk to her about the whole thing.
“I really think you should. We’ll talk about this later,” she said, looking up at the clock. Almost as soon as she did the bell rang, and we were all rushing out of class. My heart was still thumping, but arguing with her made me think less about her, and more about the problem at hand. Maybe she was right. I mean, if only Tyson had told me to get it over with, I would have had trouble doing it and knowing it was the right thing, but the fact that Tyson and my new crush were telling me to talk to her, I was on the fence. Were they right? Would it develop into something horrible if I didn’t talk to her about it? I’d never seen this happen before. There was no book I’d read involving this problem, no movie I’d seen, no song I’d heard. Why didn’t anyone write about this kind of stuff, anyway? I think it would make for great book material!
At lunch, I sat down at my normal table, and then looked around. Only Tyson was sitting down, when normally Ally was with us too. She was normally the first one here. “Where’s Ally?” I asked, looking around.
“She went home early today. She’s really sick. She has this kind of bug thing, that’s really got her stomach. I feel bad for her too, she’s been so worried lately and there’s a lot on her mind. I think you talking to her would really help, considering there’s more than just my secret on the line.”
I bit my lip, knowing what he meant. Our friendship, that was what he was talking about. I didn’t want it to be strained, awkward, or snap altogether. I liked life more when I was just oblivious, when I didn’t know anything. But that life is a lie. Maybe it was better for me to know. But then I thought about the fact that she was living a lie. I didn’t tell her that I knew, and my heart sank. I had finally figured out for myself that I needed to tell her. But how? That was what I hadn’t had all figured out yet. What was I supposed to say, supposed to do? Was I supposed to get her flowers? But that would make her think I liked her. But then, should I even do it in person, or maybe over the phone. Tyson talked about his sister having a telephone break up, and she wished that he’d done it in person, so maybe he had to do it standing at her doorstep. But that would be awkward, because it would be too public. Man, I needed help.
That’s why Tyson and Kara were there.
“Hey guys,” she chirped as she sat down at the table. Her face seemed a bit brighter than in the social studies room, maybe because it was lunch time, but it seemed brighter nonetheless. On her plate was a nice green salad, topped with some cheese and dressing, and a few carrots resting on the side. Kara was a vegetarian.
“Okay, I need to figure out what to do,” I told them, getting right down to the point. My stomach started churning, so I didn’t start my lunch. Tyson nodded and Kara looked at him, kind of wondering how he would react. Everyone knew that Tyson was good at this kind of stuff. He was the observer, the one who looked at people and saw how they reacted. He listened, and therefore he learned. So if anyone knew how to deal with the situation, he did, at least from my point of view.
And there was Kara, who knew how a girl wanted everything. She knew whether or not to break up at a doorstep or at a restaurant. She knew all about what presents to give, and what letters to write, and what things to include in a let-down speech. She knew what a girl wanted in the situation, and even though she hadn’t been in one before, the safety-net of her hypotheses were all I needed to pull through this.
Dynamic duo. Just different this time.
“So, you’re finally agreeing to do this,” Tyson confirmed, looking around and making sure no one was listening in. Kids at my school had a tendency to eavesdrop on conversations they weren’t welcome in; that’s how rumors spread so fast. But, seeing that the coast was clear, he went on. “The first thing you need to do is secure a private place for the two of you to meet tomorrow. So, tell a teacher you need their room for two minutes, and if they say yes, you’ve got to tell her you want to talk to her after school. That’s where you’re going to tell her everything.”
“A private room? Got it. Wait, two minutes? That’s all the time it’s going to take? What about when she cries, and me comforting her? That will take way longer than two minutes,” I argued, my countenance somber when I remembered the feelings that would come into play.
“If you do this right,” Kara said, immediately coming to Tyson’s defense, “she won’t be crying.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe I could get through this, considering she wouldn’t cry. That was all I was worried about; her feelings for life and for our friendship. I valued it too much to taint it or let it go, and just the fancy that she would just get through it okay and not cry, and her heart would not fall to such a point that it would shatter when it hit the ground, that made me happy for some reason. That made me feel that I was ready to do whatever I needed to, that I wasn’t just James anymore, that I was a new James. That I was a changed James. I was a stronger James.
“Okay, so what do I need to do?”
Tyson and Kara looked at each other again. I got the strange feeling they were hiding something, but there was no time to think about that now. The more you think about it the more you’ll want to know.
“You don’t need to do anything specifically, it’s all a small idea compared to the big one. What I mean to say is…well, you just need to be able to know the fact that it all comes naturally. We’re just here to tell you if your natural instinct is wrong or right. You ask the questions, we’ll give you our opinion. After all, this is your problem, technically, and though we can help, it’s you who has to ultimately solve it on your own. So, my friend, fire away.” Tyson smiled, leaning back in his chair as if to say hit me with your best shot, even though you’re probably not going to ask me a question until you realize how much you need to do this.
“Tyson’s right. Your problem, not ours. So, you need to figure it out on your own. We can help though.” As soon as I heard Kara’s voice, a chill shot up the back of my spine. She was actually talking to me about this, about love; she was trying to help me let another girl down. So maybe, the small chance of chances, maybe she liked me back. I sure hoped so.
“Okay, so do I tell her we’re still best friends, or does that sound really bad in anyway?” I was pretty sure I knew the answer to that one, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. Any help I could get from those two was what I was going to take. It was like having this huge field of wheat during harvest, and only reaping half of it, even if part of it is slightly rotten. I needed to take full advantage of the session we were having, because it really was important to me. Even if it was only my first let down, I was going to make sure it wasn’t my worst.
“No, tell her that. The more close to you she can stay, the happier she’ll be,” Kara advised me.
“And what about me eventually telling her. Should I be like, ‘I don’t like you back,’ or, maybe, ‘I don’t feel for you in that way?’ I don’t know, I don’t want it to be too confusing, like straight-to-the-point, but I don’t want it to sound harsh either, because that might hurt her feelings or something, if you get my drift.”
“Well, I guess what I would do is say, ‘I know you like me, and I really do like you as a friend. Trust me, I do, but I don’t have feelings for you like that.’ Something like that. It’s not perfect, but you can tweak it to your liking.” Tyson looked really serious, unlike he normally was. Come to think of it, he had been a lot more serious recently, and I was surprised in any rare moment when he was his normal self: happy, carefree, just an altogether fun person. I missed those moments, where everything was okay again, where we were normal, where we were free of the crushing trauma of the teenage years. I missed the years where there was no drama, where fun was easy to come by, the hermit crabs under the rocks. But eventually we had to grow, and with growing come those obstacles that are hard to overcome. It would all be good in the long run, I thought, it would, but for now I just had to do this. After that, I would be free to roam, as free as a bird, as free as I wanted.
But for now, I just had to wait.
“Okay, I think I’m ready. Somewhat,” I said, after firing off about a billion questions. I compiled a list in my mind, of things to do and things not to do. It was a pretty big list, but it was still broad, so that I could narrow it down myself. I knew that I needed to use a soft tone, but I didn’t know exactly what to say, and I knew how to react if she started to cry, but I didn’t know how to react if she was hiding her feelings inwardly. In other words, it was partly my decision, one that I would have to take careful consideration to make. However disastrous it was going to turn out, it would never be as disastrous as if I never did it at all, leaving us in that pit of confusion and chaos. And I knew that I was being brave, but it was also a test of humility. I needed to be down-to-earth, to realize that she was my equal as much as I was hers, and that I did not have power over her in any way, no matter how much in love with me she was. It was this whole thought process I had to get through my head, this whole philosophy. But the best part about it was I had realized it, I had created it myself. I didn’t need help from Tyson. I didn’t need help from Kara. This was by my standards, developed by my design. And for that reason, I felt strangely confident in it, that this was where my heart was telling me to go, and I definitely needed to follow that path. It was like that room people dream about, that dark room, where the only way you can go straight. Except, in my dream, my fantasy, I had nothing to worry about, because that straight line was my only path. It was the only way I had to that happiness, that relief I longed to feel. The relief of awkwardness, the relief of worry. The relief of that pile of guilt slowly building up in the pit of my stomach. My only wish was to be relieved.
“Well, I’m glad you’re deciding to talk to her, really especially glad. Really, if you didn’t, things would be really bad for you and her right now. Maybe she would have been really mad at you.” Kara wiped her eye and looked at Tyson. They were like my parents. Not in the literal sense of course, but they were really good at guiding me in the right direction. They acted as the voices in my head, telling me what to do, or at least giving me advice (no matter how bad the advice was). For the first time I was greatful for their amazingly annoying nagging and pestering that had gotten me to change my mind. I knew this was the right thing to do. But, wait, did she say Ally would have been mad?
“Why would Ally be mad at me?” I asked.
They looked at each other, and Tyson took a deep sigh. They were definitely hiding something from me, but what was it, exactly. Was there a deep dark secret that they both had together? Was this what Tyson was talking about, that dark secret that I couldn’t know about. Were they a couple? My heart raced as did my mind. I looked at them confusedly, my eyes sparkling a little bit, and I knew they were going to tell me, because they couldn’t hold off on me any longer.
“Ally knows.” Most definatelyyyyyyyy! linkage! |
|
|
|
Post by Belle on Nov 7, 2007 10:08:45 GMT -5
Just popping in.  I've only read the Prologue so far. I like your writing style. Very easy to read. And I like your first few paragraphs. Very hooking.  Reminds me that I don't have a catchy intro. *notes that down for editing after November XD* Sorry that I don't have time to read the rest but I'll catch up. ^_^ |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 7, 2007 20:48:45 GMT -5
Thanks Belle! Here's chapter eight everyone! “What do you mean Ally knows?” I asked incredulously, looking from Tyson to Kara to Tyson again. Ally knows. That could have meant a lot of things. That could have meant Ally knew Tyson’s secret. That could have meant Ally knew 748 times 229 off the top of her head. But I secretly knew what that little phrase meant. I knew it and I dreaded it, but there was nothing I could do about it.
Ally knows.
“We mean Ally knows. We mean Ally knows that you know that she has a crush on you,” Kara blatantly explained, apparently not realizing the sudden impact this had on me. My blood ran cold and my face went pale. My breathing quickened, as if I had just run a long distance from a savage beast. My heart rate must have doubled in speed, even with the fact that I was sitting next to Kara Armond.
“How long? How long has she known?” I asked. Maybe if she had only figured it out that morning, I would have had the chance to make things right. But if she had known for all that time, known that I hadn’t talked to her, she could have been sad already. But still, somethings about the way she’d been acting made me feel that she was innocent. So what was going on. Ally knew? She actually knew?
“A couple days. She noticed you were acting weird, and she talked to me about it. I didn’t tell her, I swear; she figured it out on her own, and I couldn’t just lie about it. So I told her that you actually knew. I told her I would email you about it right away, but then she said she wanted to see how long it took you to have the sense to talk to her about it. So far she’s been waiting two or three days. I don’t think she’s too happy about that either.” Tyson knew that with every word that came out of his mouth, my stomach just dropped or rose on the roller coaster it had just been attached to. All of a sudden, after I had everything figured out and I was going to do what I had intended to do a while ago, things came to a screeching halt and veered off in a different direction. It was that horrible punch in the face that comes out of nowhere. You have no idea how unexpected it was. It was like thinking you had someone fooled, and feeling guilty about it, when they really had you fooled. And then, instead of being happy that you had no reason to feel guilty, you felt dumb and guilty at the same time. And, in my case, there was an extra dose of guilty, because with every hour that I chose to procrastinate and put off that big talk, the more she became disappointed in me, and the more she lost hope. No doubt she now knew that I didn’t like her back, but worse, she probably thought I was some cold, uncaring, selfish person, who only wanted to better my life. That wasn’t true, I really was having trouble, but how much convincing would it take her to believe that? No, I was in serious trouble, and I needed to get out of it. But it was so hard. Maybe I would just have to give in, to succumb, because it was like being stuck in that huge glob of quicksand without a vine. It was almost impossible to get out of this quagmire, because it wasn’t any normal quagmire. It was just that kind of problem that you’re trapped in, and you just have to face it and hope for the best. It was that lose-lose situation that everyone dreads.
I just sighed.
“I can’t believe this. I’m in so much trouble, and it’s all my fault. I feel like such a . I feel like I’m just the worst friend in the world, and there’s no way I can make it up to her. How could I be so stupid and careless?” I asked aloud, not caring who heard or what people thought. I just felt like I needed to get everything off my chest again, because that was the only way I was going to be able to turn around and face the music. For a second I just felt like breaking down and crying, but I had to stay strong in front of Kara. I had to be sensitive, not only for Ally, but for myself, and for Kara. I needed to be strong for my world.
“Now you’ve got yourself thinking like her. First off, that’s not true, and you’ve got to get that through your head before you can get it through hers. Remember, the only way you’re going to get people to believe you is if you believe in yourself,” Tyson said, as if he was just stealing a quote from one of those day planners. I smiled when I thought about it. Tyson was amazing with that kind of stuff, making up comforting words and incredibly useful advice on the spot. I don’t know exactly how he did it, considering that stuff was normally left to the pros, but it didn’t really matter.
“You’re probably right, but she still thinks I’m an idiot. And even if I’m not, how am I going to convince her that’s true while telling her that I don’t like her back?” I asked, forcing myself to realize another problem. Not only was I going to have to resolve this problem that I myself had started, but I was still going to have to crush her hopes and dreams on top of all that. And doing that at the same time was not an easy task. It’s like trying to correct a math problem by making another error, and the fact was, it didn’t make any sense to me. I would have to deal with them separately, but I saw no way of that ever happening. If I was going to talk to her it would have to be about both things at the same time, because things aren’t as easy as, oh first let me tell you I don’t like you, and then, after you get over that, we can patch up the problems with me being an idiot and whatnot. I wished it were like that, but the truth was, it was a do or die situation with our friendship on the line.
The lunch bell rang.
I walked beside Tyson and Kara, not knowing exactly what to say. For once, they couldn’t exactly help me, not knowing what to do themselves. This was one of the first huge problems I was going to have to deal with on my own. I could have another talk with Tyson during homeroom, but what was he going to say to me? Good luck and may the best friend win?
I sighed and groaned at the same time. I knew I had to talk to Tyson about it. Maybe I would get lucky. Maybe he was just holding back. If I could just get him to say something smart, or at least to get me started on the right track, then at least I was closer to where I wanted to be. And, as my dad always used to say, you can’t be perfect, but you can get pretty darn close.
“Tyson, what do you think I should do?” I asked blatantly in homeroom, almost ready to cry. I didn’t know exactly what made me want to cry. Maybe it was the change that was just breaking me down. After all, change is this whole process of where to go. I don’t know if you can understand this, but I was living the storybook normal life. I was the unknowing little kid who’s biggest problem was the math test next Friday. And then, I made this transformation into this problem-solving, half-witted, living-in-the-dark 8th grader. And when you read any story about some normal girl who finds out she’s a princess, and then she’s just all, whoopee, I’m a princess, that’s not the way it goes. You first go through the initial shock, then you begin to realize the full situation, and then you have to deal with it. It’s not as easy as, okay, so that’s that and that’s done. It’s as easy as, so that’s that, and I have no idea what the heck I’m supposed to do and where the hell I’m supposed to go from here. Maybe I should go to mom for help, to friends, to my dog, I don’t really care. I just want to move forward in the right direction. And with the whole Ally problem, it was like I was blocked by some unmovable barrier that stuck me in the same place, and there was no possible way to move forward.
“Trust me, if I could help you, I would, but for now, we’re just both going to have to think about it. Here’s what I know, what I’ve got figured out or whatever. We know that Ally has a crush on you. We know that you do not have a crush on Ally, but possibly, probably, on someone else. We know that you know Ally has a crush on you. We know that Ally knows you know she has a crush on you. We know that you know that Ally knows you know she has a crush on you, and that she’s incredibly mad that you haven’t talked to her in the two days that she’s known about it. So, what you need to do, basically, is you need to resolve the initial problem, where she has a crush on you. You’re slightly prepared for that, as Kara and I have helped you devise a plan in which you deal the news to her in a sensitive yet straight-to the-point way. Are you writing this down? I hope so. But, a new problem has been introduced, with the fact that she has known for a while that you know, and you have procrastinated with talking to her. So, in all, in conclusion, not in hypothesis, but in conclusion, we know that you have to come up with a way, sorry, scratch that, we have to come up with a way to break the news that you do not like Ally back along with resolving the newest problem of the fact that she is incredibly mad at you. So, basically, you’re going to have to kneel and grovel while telling her that you have this huge power over her but she doesn’t have the same effect on you. An incredibly hard situation if you ask me. I think we also have figured out that this would be better to do in person, but, because she seems really sick, it would probably be better for you to get it over with and do it on the phone. Also, this should not take an extremely long time. The longer you drag it out, the worse it’s going to get, so you basically just have to tell her the news, and try and sort things out. Let’s make a pretty strict time limit of 10 minutes, no more than 15. Still, you have to try not to be rude and speed things up too much; otherwise, she’ll think she doesn’t matter, and that this is just one of your daily chores that you have to do or whatever, and she will consider you an inconsiderate, insensitive brat that she doesn’t want to have anything to do with. If this does happen, you two will lose your friendship, causing extreme tension, not only between just you two, but between all three of us. I am assuming that you would like to keep your friendship with her, so we’ll just go with the fact that you would rather this not happen to you. In other words, to sum everything we know up, you have to break the news to her that you do not have a crush on her, you have to resolve problems between you two without creating tension with the rest of the group, otherwise the three of us are likely to break up and go our separate ways, and you must do this in a time limit of 10-15 minute for safety purposes, and the purpose to prevent the aforementioned horrible nightmare. There. You have that all down on paper?” As he recited all that we knew, or all the givens, as he would refer to them later, I frantically wrote them down, glad that I was getting at least some form of help. If I could take everything we knew and form it into a good conclusion, a good plan, then I would be a least slightly prepared for anything. Being slightly prepared was the only trump card I had, because Tyson was right. If I slipped up big time about anything, there would be so much tension in the group that there would be a good chance of us falling apart, and that would not be enjoyable. The fact that there was that risk, the fact that there was the possibility of having to make new friends, or even worse, losing old ones, was actually existent unsettled me to some effect. If I could only devise a foolproof plan…but that was impossible. No plan would ever be perfect, but I knew that. I knew that very well. Just like my dad told me.
You can’t be perfect, but you can get pretty darn close.
I nodded and gathered everything up. The notes were a far cry from an actual plan, not even very close to a helpful hint, but they were all I had. I looked at them, what I had managed to jot down. Ally knows I know. Ally very mad. I manage to break news to her. I manage to solve problems. 10-15 min. Something important. Tension in group if not done right. Must do right. Ally very mad, not appear insensitive. Must appear good, and not cruel or mean or any that stuff. Must not be a mean person in general. Must not seem hasty. 10-15 min, stress this point. Must be a loving person. Try not to cause tension in group, and make everything better.
The end of the day came, but I wasn’t dreading calling Ally. I was slightly looking forward to it, in fact; setting things straight was a perfectly normal and healthy prospect for me. It was like being the savior, the sun, shedding warmth and relieving the grief and nervousness of the night before. I really hoped that I had the ability to set things right, but I knew I could. Those words of empowerment and encouragement before, those you can do it, I’m that little caboose going over the hill thoughts, those were the only things driving me forward and onto the bus. Remembering that everything was riding on it didn’t create pressure like normal, it created only a need for that empty space to be filled in. All that, and I wanted to impress Kara.
But aside from that, I really needed to think. I couldn’t get distracted, pensively speaking, because I needed to formulate something, some extra help. Reinforcements, though not always necessary, should always be at hand. If anything I needed some support in that chaotic goop that was what my brain had become. A little 8th grader like me, one who didn’t embrace and welcome change, was having a hard time dealing with so much of it in such little time. Each little bit of change was adding a little bit of weight to that heavy pile of books, putting a little more air into that overly-inflated balloon, going until the load is too much for the carrier to handle, going until the balloon can take no more stress and pops with a loud bang. I felt like that, that whole shebang. I couldn’t take it anymore, and I just wanted to get it all out of my system, before it was too late.
But why would that happen if Redhead was on the bus? Why would he have any reason to just let me be when he could torture me into the end of time? I mean, a golden opportunity like that was just too hard to pass up, especially when I was worried to death and thinking like a maniac. Anything to just blow James’ chances of setting anything straight, that was just good enough for him. And with the help of Dave, no doubt would he be able to reign over me in his dictatorship of terror, no doubt would he be able to just make me horribly insane, wildly rampaging through my thoughts, emotions running high, ready to explode like that gaseous balloon. And, no doubt would he taunt me after, as I climbed off the bus, migraine and all, no doubt would he believe he was bettering the world, his world, same difference. He just wanted to torture me for that sense of power, that sense of kingship which I had felt before. And there was Dave, his bodyguard, his sun, his relief of all grief and stress and whatnot. And there was that sense of justice that was thrown off the balance. For once, the villain was able to win, once the hero was overridden with problems, and the villain was able to prevail in that battle for rule, in that battle for integrity. And justice would just have to sit there and not think as those asses decided to scream their heads off with joy, celebrating their victory.
He came on, Dave trailing close behind him, and I scowled as I watched him head over to the back. He seemed to be extra happy about something, as if he knew some outline, some sketchy outline, of my current situation. He smiled, those freckles of his just lighting up with that brilliant delight that always danced across his face when he was feeling extra malicious. Chris noticed that he was quite optimistic that day as well, and, as he sat down, he asked, “Well, what’s making Mr. Redhead so happy today?”
Redhead shrugged, still smiling, those fang-like teeth in the back of his mouth somehow coming to the forefront. He had just gotten his braces off, and now those pearly white teeth got a chance to show themselves. Dave just sat next to him, not really doing anything (as he always did), probably at least a little happy because his friend was happy. I was trying to think, and doing a pretty good job under Redhead’s presence, but I knew that this was just the calm of the storm, the lowered winds as the eye passed over the quaint little town. Oh soon, I just had to wait, those big winds were going to hit and I was going to be sorry I ever got myself into a sort of mess. There were going to be hands flying everywhere: touching, punching, shoving. And I could just imagine that justice, that horribly right side just getting beat down by the evil, and I scowled. No, we would fight another day, we would just have to wait, we would just have to be patient. Someday, when the time was right, Redhead would get to know that he was not going to be top dog. We would not lose the fight, because even though it is true that evil can prevail, it wouldn’t. Redhead wouldn’t win. It wasn’t right; if there was such a thing as karma, God, the balance of life, he would come out on the bottom of the dog-pile, and Chris and I on the top.
We only had to wait.
I got home with not too many problems. Redhead only decided to torture us a little bit, somehow instinctively knowing that I was having very many problems flying around on the inside, in complete disarray.
As soon as I got home, I rushed to the phone. I picked it up, that annoying dial tone ringing in my ears. I wondered why the phone companies chose that specific tone over all the other ones, when it was just not enjoyable. It was like that irritating shrill call of the rabid raccoon in the night, when it just wakes you up and you can’t get to sleep. So annoying. I shrugged it off and leafed through the directory, locating Ally’s number fairly quickly. I had a tendency to forget phone numbers, so I almost always checked in the directory, just to make sure. I dialed the numbers, each one making a slightly different sound on the phone. I unraveled the paper from my pocket, the one that I had almost illegibly scribbled on that same day in homeroom. That time seemed a time of the past, this one a time of its own. It was almost like this piece of time, the part where I was calling Ally, had separated itself into its own entity, like it would always be just yesterday, implanted in my mind for years to come.
There were the rings. By experience, I knew there were four rings until the answering machine picked up. I was really hoping at least Ally’s mom would pick up, so I could talk to her and find out when to call back, but that was unlikely. If Ally was sick, she was probably home alone, and maybe too lazy to get the phone?
Ring number one.
The sun shown through my kitchen window, dancing on the table a little bit, an entertaining jig. I smiled, quickly frowning again once I remembered those dancing freckles on Redhead’s face. He knew something. What did he know? Was he some wise freak who had something figured out that I didn’t? Was it a secret? Was it Tyson’s? I would find out soon enough: Redhead was not the type to keep secrets for very long.
Ring number two.
I really hoped that Tyson’s advice would keep a good hold. Maybe, just maybe, if I could manage to pull it off, I would be able to have the courage an energy to wipe that smile off Redhead’s face. 10-15 minutes. Make her feel like she’s loved, which she was, and make sure that she knows that I’m still her friend. Those were the only things running through my head, my only thoughts, except for the occasional, fleeting, random one, the ones I used to get when I was carefree and just breezing through that life, when I was an unchanged caterpillar compared to what I was now.
Ring number three.
“Hello?”
I froze up for a second, and my heart skipped a beat. Her voice, although slightly frail, was on the phone now, and I had to talk to her with the knowledge of everything. Of course, she couldn’t possibly know that I knew that she knew that I knew, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that I had to set thing straight.
“Listen, Ally, I need to talk to you.” Straight-to-the-point, just like Tyson said. Maybe this would work out after all. Was she mad? Was she happy? Was she sick, and did she need comfort? Maybe this wasn’t a good time to call, and maybe I was in over my head. Maybe I just needed to wait for things to heal, like most wounds did, naturally. But that didn’t seem like the right answer.
“Tyson already called, and he told me you know. I just, don’t want to talk to you right now, okay? The fact that they actually had to tell you, I just, I need to think this over, okay? You just wait a bit, I’ll sort it out myself.” I listened to her intently, to every word, and then I got the meaning, the context itself. She was mad at me, very mad at me. I looked down at the floor in guilt.
“I’m really sorry. We really need to talk, and I know I’m—”
Dial tone.
I put down the phone, sighing as I did so, and started walking upstairs to my room. I didn’t care that I had the whole afternoon to do what I wanted, and I didn’t care that I finally plucked it up and called.
I just heard the echo of the slamming of the phone, and the dial tone, ringing in my ears. |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 9, 2007 17:50:13 GMT -5
Whoot! After a wittle break, I finally finished Chapter NINE! And, I should be at 50k in the middle of or at the beginning of Chapter Eighteen, if I keep up the same pace! Kara was very mad when I got to school the next day. And I don’t mean mad in the sense of: oh wow, I’m angry at you. I’m talking mad like: I can’t believe this is happening I’m going to hackin’ kill you with my sniper rifle.
Okay, maybe not that extreme. But you get the picture.
“James Miller! I want you to explain yourself right now! Actually, you need no explaining. I can explain it all for you, you insolent fool! You call Ally up, and you let her hang up on you, when you’re supposed to be dumping on her. And might I remind you how this all happened? Maybe it will spark your memory! You find out Ally likes you, but you know she doesn’t know. Using this, and the fact that your heart has “no capacity for love,” you procrastinate talking to her for a couple of days. Then she finds out through dogged questioning, and now she knows that you’ve been putting it off. Fine, that’s okay, she understands the whole thing and how it must have been a big shock to you. But once that initial sense of overwhelming fear is over, once that is done, then you’re supposed to go talk to her. And you even put that off! So, you manage to tick off your best friend, who’s supposed to like you but now hates you with a burning passion of the raging fires of the underworld, you’ve got yourself a whole bunch of problems which will haunt you for the rest of your life, and I’m not so fond of you myself. So, why don’t you take a look in the mirror, huh? ‘Cause I think that’s a pretty good idea. I think, I think you need to look at yourself and what you’ve done, that guilt that should be etched upon your face! You want to know what I think? I think that you need to do better. She hangs up on you? Call her back. Clog her inbox. Show that you care, don’t give up. How can you give up on a friend? Are you her friend, because right now you don’t seem like it. I will not, I refuse to be, friends with a quitter. And you know what you seem like to me right now, Mr. James Miller? You seem a lot like a quitter! I don’t know how I could have ever—have ever become such good friends with you. You’ll never resolve this, and live in turmoil for the rest of your life. It seems to me like you’re a pretty big idiot. Please sit down and tell me I’m wrong so I can argue with you, and tell you all the reasons why you’re such an idiot. You think you have no capacity for love, when I see, or at least I think I see, that you’re a loving person. You think that you can’t solve anything, you’re such a little self-esteem-deprived weirdo! I don’t know, I would use bigger words, but I wouldn’t use those words because I might hurt your almost non-existent self-esteem! And you want to know what else makes you an idiot? You don’t even try! You just try once, you call her up, you manage to utter a few words, and then you’re done. You’re done once she hangs up. And the worse part? You’re supposed to show her that she shouldn’t give up on you, and then you give up on yourself, because you’re just a hypocrite like that! Idiot-hypocrite-weirdo-freakin’-hackin’-scoundrel! I hate you, I hate you for Ally, I hate you for myself, who tried to help you, I hate you for yourself, for being a quitter and not striving to do my best for those who mean to you. I hate your mind, for thinking all of those untrue thoughts about no love flowing through your veins. But most of all, I hate your guts, your stinking guts, that decided to quit when you needed them most.”
As you can tell, she was pretty hackin’ tinkled.
“I’m sorry Kara. I don’t know what to tell you. I was wrong, okay, I was wrong in what I did. I’m a freakin’-hackin’ idiot, whatever you said. Yeah, and I wish I was better. I wish everything was better. I really do. I wish I could have been braver, smarter. And thanks for diminishing my self-esteem to an all time low.” I put my head in my arms on the lunch table, something I was doing a hell-of-a-lot more often nowadays. Everything I did was a mistake, every mistake a horrible one that just seemed to make my life so much worse. Why couldn’t I be pretty darn close to perfect? Why did this all just have to crash down on me now? Why couldn’t it wait until I was more prepared. Tragedy is like that, I guess. You can never be prepared for it, because it always wants to strike unpredictably. That is the definition of tragedy; the fact that it affects you so much must mean it really hits hard. I lost one of my best friends, soon-to-be two, just because I wasn’t smart enough to figure things out, to get it over with, to be supportive, to be a good friend. I always thought our friendship would pull through, but a friendship works on both ends: while one is holding it up, the other just can’t let go and get away with it. There has to be a bond on both ends, otherwise it will totally and utterly fail.
“Well, now you’re going to have to fix it. Or, of course, face the consequences, which, I would think, is not a very enjoyable option. Maybe you should try again tonight, if she hasn’t already plugged in caller-ID and made sure no one answered the phone to your number. The more determined you seem to fix this, the more she’ll want to as well, and that will make it a lot easier. And remember, a lot is riding on this, as I’ve said before. You probably want to do this more than anyone else.” Tyson was so incredibly right it wasn’t even funny. I really wanted to fix things, or rather to show that I was strong and that I could fix things. I didn’t want to be the hero, so much as I wanted to go back to normal and look like a capable friend. I wanted everything in tact, nothing ripped or torn. Sometimes I wished that things were that easy, and that I could just be some sort of god and fix things like that. But I knew that I had to learn things the somewhat hard way, and, although I knew that it was going to be more hard than hard, I was determined to fix things. The only thing I was worried about was Ally hanging up again. I knew it was likely to happen. She probably hated me now, and Tyson told me she was well enough to come to school the next day, so I was really worried that would create unneeded tension between everyone. I knew what I had to do, just like those storybook heroes everyone always idolizes, I just didn’t know if I could do it. This wasn’t just hunting down a dragon with super-human strength, this was dealing with emotions, fragile as they are, and this was dealing with love, the strongest, most stubborn of them all. This was dealing with the heart, and whether it would break or stay together. This was dealing with friendship, with caring, with how much I knew I needed to help. This was dealing with more than one end of the friendship bond, and I wasn’t used to all that. I was used to dealing with myself, and helping people deal with themselves. But that fact that I was dealing with someone else’s emotions, that they actually mattered…and that was love. In all that, my brain somehow made the connection, it clicked. Everything that dealt with other people’s emotions, the selfless reach out to another’s heart, that was love. Love was always in reach, if one knew where to look for it. Love, the strongest and most stubborn of all of the emotions. And I could finally call it my own.
The bus was not fun for me that day. I can’t really describe what I felt as I was climbing on. It was a combination of some sort, because I definitely felt a huge soup of emotions swirling around in my stomach. I just can’t really decide what the emotions were. It wasn’t anger, but maybe a little bit of disappointment was sprinkled around in there. There was definitely nervousness, because Redhead was coming on the bus, and that smile he wore yesterday kind of crept me out. I was excited, maybe even determined, because it meant I was going home and calling Ally again. I couldn’t wait to resolve the whole thing, and even if I couldn’t, I didn’t have the ability, I was going to try and try and try. I was going to keep calling her, emailing her, whatever it took to just get her to talk to me. Have a conversation with me. One that I had yearned to have for a really long time. And then there was the unpredictable feeling. Because I didn’t know, I never knew, what was going to happen on that bus. It was so strange, so amazingly strange. It never followed a pattern. But that day, it was way different. There were two 8th graders on that bus, and I wasn’t happy about it.
Those two 8th graders were me and Dave.
And of course, there was Redhead.
He walked on with that incredibly malicious grin on his face, his freckles just doing their little jig around his eyes and nose and whatever. There was a little black pepper (I didn’t know exactly what it was, but it looked kind of blackish) sprinkled in his red hair, and he walked on with a snooty air, sitting down next to me (of course, there was no other 8th grader to occupy the seat next to me, so why not just sit down there?). “Hello James,” he greeted me in that same arrogant air that followed him like some sort of aura. He seemed happy, in the least, like he had just gotten 100 on a test and showed everyone up. It’s really hard to describe, if you ask me.
“What?” I asked. Because, whenever he said, “Hello James,” something nasty was in store for me. Always.
“Oh nothing. Having problems with…friends, lately?” he asked, smiling that little knowing smile of his. It got even wider, actually, because he was already wearing it before he smiled even more. His white teeth flashed in the sunlight, and he sat back in his chair comfortably.
“You wouldn’t know. You don’t have any,” I countered with snake-like quickness and venom. I was tired of his little game; I really wanted to know what everything was about, and soon. This whole waiting around thing, waiting in the dark, it was not my thing at all. If I had the choice, I would live a life of eternal sunlight, because that’s how much I hated the darkness, both in the literal and metaphorical senses. If it had anything to do with darkness, I pretty much despised it.
“Maybe…your girlfriend? Having problems with her lately?” he asked, and I scowled. How could he possibly know? He didn’t, he was guessing. And I was never going to admit what was really going on.
“Of course not. We’re friends, like always. She’s been sick for the past couple days, if that’s what you mean.” But that wasn’t what he meant. It was quite obvious that that wasn’t what he had meant, but I didn’t think about that. I thought about the fact that he was trying to weasel something out of me, and I was going to be like Tyson. I wasn’t going to let him have it, I was never going to let him have it, because letting him have it was like giving a dog a treat when he didn’t do anything for it. And Redhead sure as hell would have to do a lot for something so personal as that.
“Um, I’m not so sure. Maybe you’re having problems along the lines of she likes you and you know, but you don’t like her back, and she knows you put off talking to her and she’s extremely mad at you for it.” Redhead snickered as he rattled off everything that had ever went wrong in my 8th grade year.
My eyes widened. How could he possibly know about that? Was he following us around everywhere, listening to every single word we were saying. It didn’t matter what he thought he knew or didn’t know, I couldn’t let on that he was right. If I did, then I gave in to all of the evil forces, I made sure that he took the winning trophy. No, I couldn’t let him know that he knew, I couldn’t let him know the truth, because that would ruin everything.
“What? What are you talking about? Wait, I put off talking to her? You mean she’s sick?” I asked, trying my best to act clueless. It was my best shot at not having to deal with Redhead at his worst. I took a glance at Dave, who seemed totally uninterested and thinking about something else. He was almost staring into the wall, like he was trying to shoot a laser at it from his eye. It was kind of funny watching him stare at the wall, like he was so interested in it or something. It was fascinating how people could be doing one thing and totally have their mind on something else. He was probably thinking, and deeply, about something that had happened that day. I smiled. He turned his head around, his short hair standing on end. His eyes narrowed a little bit, and I immediately turned away, thinking he was going to do something to me.
“Oh, you know what I’m talking about, you gay-lord,” Redhead said, angry that I was avoiding the question. “That’s what I heard. Your little friend Ally is crushing on you, and you don’t like her, obviously because you’re a little gay freak, but you didn’t talk to her. So then she got really mad at you. Really mad, so mad she won’t talk to you anymore. She probably couldn’t wait to get an excuse to not talk to you again, you gay freakin’ gay-lord. Gay.” He said it with a surprisingly venomous tone, almost as if he was intent on telling me what I supposedly already knew. He wanted to ram it into my head, like it was his business, like he was trying to hurt-help me, like Kara had done at lunch that same day. I looked back at Dave, who was back to boring a hole into the metal at the side of the bus, and then at Redhead. I didn’t know what was up with those two, and me, and my friends, but something was. My heart thumped as I raced through possibilities. Something was definitely going on, something was giving him some sort of insider information. Was he spying on us? Was Dave spying on us? The latter seemed a more likely possibility, because Dave was actually in our grade. But still, something about the situation seemed awkward, strange, as if something wasn’t right but didn’t need to be corrected. Something was amiss.
I got home, and as soon as I did, I got the overwhelming urge to stomp up to my room, throw the covers off my bed and climb in, not coming out until I needed to eat. I didn’t want to call and get ignored by Ally, I didn’t want to get chastised by Tyson and Kara by not calling and getting ignored by Ally, and I didn’t want to be called a lazy butt by my parents for getting into bed, even though I probably would wind up doing all three eventually. I didn’t care. I needed to rest, and I needed to rest right that second.
And then, the phone rang.
I groaned and, getting out from the bed, I ran over to grab the phone which was conveniently waiting for me on my desk. “Hello?” I asked, swiping it and quickly pressing the talk button, waiting for any voice to appear on the other end.
“Well, I’m surprised the phone’s not busy because YOU SHOULD BE CALLING ALLY RIGHT NOW!” Kara’s shrill voice really hurt my ears, and I pushed the phone down, covering the speaking part with my other hand, trying to lower the loud factor. I cringed as the voice continued, “WHY AREN’T YOU CALLING ALLY? MIGHT I REMIND YOU WHAT I HAVE THREATENED TO DO TO YOU IF YOU DON’T CALL ALLY? YOU BUTTHEAD! THE LONGER YOU WAIT, THE HARDER IT’S GOING TO BE! SO GET IT DONE!” With a click, her voice disappeared, and she hung up.
It was decided. I was calling Ally.
I picked up the phone and stared at it for a few seconds, just like Dave was staring into that wall on the bus earlier that day. I stared at it because I was thinking. Maybe I should set a time for myself, so I can be a little more ready and prepared. But what if I don’t stick to my own promise? I should call now, in fact, that’s really probably a good idea. I wouldn’t want Kara to call again and bust my ear. Those were a few of the millions of thoughts cramming into that small space of my brain, or, at least the part that was active. Instinctively (considering my brain was too full of thoughts to perform a conscious action), I pressed the buttons for Ally’s phone number, not checking the directory this time, nothing. I just pressed those seven numbers, and put the phone to my ear. The thoughts were beginning to rush out of my head, as the first ring echoed through my head. Memories of the dial tone the day before flooded back in to my brain, and I was slightly determined to not have that happen again, though I was basically more tired.
“Hello?” The answer came in the middle of the second ring. It was Ally’s voice. Apparently she hadn’t gotten caller ID yet, because she answered with such a kick in her voice that it surprised me. I hadn’t heard her using a happy voice in days, just because I hadn’t seen her in days, and last I heard her, she was extremely sick and even more extremely mad. I sighed.
“Ally, we need to talk. You will not hang up. You will not pick up that thumb and press it to the off button. Just hang tight. We need to talk.” At least I had gotten that much out without messing anything up. I could feel that rage building up inside her on the other end: the tension was palpable even on my end of the phone, but I also knew she was resisting it. She was giving me another chance.
“But, James. James, I know this is hard for you. James, stop trying to be nice. I know that you just want to be friends with me.” Ally didn’t really know what to say, I don’t think, so she was trying to tell me that she knew what I was trying to say. I smiled, hoping that that wasn’t mean or anything, and looked around. It was kind of sunny, less sunny than the day before, but sunny nonetheless. I stared back at the phone, and knew, I just knew, that everything was going to be resolved.
“I know. I don’t know. You know what I do know, though? I really want to be friends with you, you know. I really want to stay friends, best friends with you. And I know we’re really close. Trust me, I couldn’t survive without you. You’re one of the nicest people I know, and one of the strongest people I know, so just know that that’s what I think, right?”
Ally seemed speechless enough. “Right. Yeah, I think I understand.”
“Okay. Let’s establish a few facts here. You like me, this is true?” I sighed, knowing that this was all natural, that I didn’t need a stupid sheet of paper for guidance. It was all up there, up in my head, information ready to be called on. Why was I so nervous about this. I was strong, I was caring, I could so do this without anyone’s help. As long as I cared for someone, cared for them deeply, I realized that I could tell them anything, and they would understand. They would compensate for my mistakes, and they would be able to cope with anything I threw at them, anything thrown at them in general, along with my help. I could do anything with them, not for them, not without them. Unity is friendship, and friendship is strength.
“Yeah. And I’m pretty sure you don’t like me. Listen, James, I know what this is about. You just want to show that you really care. You think I think you’re an idiot, but I know you’re not. I’m sorry I hung up on you yesterday.” Ally sighed audibly on the other end, and I looked out the window, on to my street. I was right, I guess, it was natural, for both of us, and we needed this, this breath of fresh air. I sighed, audibly as well, and she laughed. Both of us were probably sighing a lot, because with each exhale we took we released another one of our sorrows, a free bird in the sky.
“You’re right, except for one thing. I am an idiot.” I smiled, and she laughed, that same laugh that I was so used to hearing before. I was glad that things were basically back to normal. Normal conversations, normal jokes, normal laughs, normal standing up to Mr. Redhead, normal everything. And I knew that, even if things weren’t normal, I could conquer them with the help of Tyson, Ally, and Kara. I smiled, and resisted the urge to sigh. That was one philosophy that I didn’t want to release into the air. I wanted to keep it at my side forever, making sure that I forced myself to remember it everyday, just so I could keep myself going.
And then, as I was looking out the window, I saw a biker, pedaling slowly down the street. He was wearing a red and blue biking suit, his helmet on his head, a trademark insignia, and then he stopped. That was normal, I guess, but I was intrigued. Was he going to turn around? Then he stepped off the bike for a second, kicking up the kickstand, and I stared on. Why was he just stopping, dead in the middle of the road? Was he going to head up to a house on our street. He kneeled down in the road and unstrapped a small pouch hanging off the side of his bike. He seemed to be pulling something out, a strange piece of something, and it was a glowing pink. He took it down to the street, his wrist arched. He was writing something. When he stood up, three pink F’s boldly stood out on the street. He kicked up the kickstand and pedaled off in the other direction.
“That was weird,” I commented.
“What was weird?” Ally asked, and I realized we had just spent the past few moments in pensive silence, trying to think of what to do, what was happening, what was finally over, what was going to become. I smiled again, and sighed, releasing more of my worries into the cool air outside.
“This biker dude. He just rode up, you know, on the street in front of my house, stopped, and wrote three F’s into the street with pink chalk. It was really…strange. Really strange.” She laughed in response, and I stared out at those three F’s. I was glad we could have those laughs again. Every time I heard that laugh, I could have laughed too. I could have laughed at how the whole thing got overblown; blown out of proportion. I could have laughed at how we just got up and resolved things, settled things, whipped through the air with our tension-destroying knives and made things back to the way they were supposed to be.
“So, are you coming to school tomorrow?” I asked, hoping she would say yes. I wanted to see her in school again. I wanted to see her face again, I wanted to see her in person, and talk to her, and watch her face light up and laugh again. Because only then would I know that things were truly back to normal, that we were three (now maybe even four) friends again. I wanted to know for sure that things weren’t going to be too rocky between us, and if something ever got in our way we would be there for each other, just like good friends are. I wanted to know for sure that we could climb any mountain, conquer any earthquake, stand stable upon solid land. I wanted to know we could look into each other’s eyes and tell each other the truth, stay close, stay together. Security, protection, hope, trust, friendship. I wanted friendship.
Determination is more important than anything, getting through things, laughter, living life. So many things were so high on my to-do list, and there was only one way I could imagine doing them.
“We’re good right?” Ally asked.
“We’re good.”
With friends. |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 11, 2007 14:23:11 GMT -5
Wow, it's been a while, but I hope to get a lot done today! Here's Chapter Ten: The winter air was so crisp that day that I will always remember its taste on my tongue: cool and fresh with a hint of Christmas spirit. It will always be ingrained on my memory, forever etched there. It would only help jog my memory to say that it was the day before Winter Vacation, a day forever revered by students across the globe who celebrate this glorious holiday. Taking a burden off all of our backs, Christmas Vacation was the savior of all saviors, the big kahuna of all of the vacations.
But there were other reasons I remembered that day as well.
“Tyson!” I chirped as I walked into school the next day. Ally was indeed on the bus that morning, and we had a nice little talk, just like we used to, as good friends. We were smiling (of course, there was no Redhead on the morning bus) and laughing, and just talking, just talking to each other in a no more than friendly manner. Just the way I liked it.
“I heard. I told Kara too, so you don’t get to break her the good news. And I don’t think she’s too mad at you anymore. Besides, that little rant she gave, it was only supposed to be a personal motivator. Sorry if she scared you.” Tyson was also back to his normal self, not really worried about anything or in serious mode, in a mood I hadn’t seen him in for a really long time. He was in that mood that kind of spreads to other people, like it was a contagious disease of happiness. I don’t know, but while I was around him, I just kept grinning widely, like the sun was there, right there in front of me, I could touch it. And it wasn’t just me, because people seemed to be happy all day. Smiling, laughing, just inwardly happy, for the introverts. Everyone was in sync; they’d had good dreams the night before and were just ready to knock down those walls. It was also Friday, and we were together in our excitement. Something had taken over the school.
“But, there’s something else for me to be happy about,” I said, just remembering myself. He had trapped me before, in a little corner, but now I had him trapped, like a mouse lured to cheese. The blowtorch backfired, scorching his face instead of mine, and I felt like the king of Tyson, but not the king of bus #11 or anything like that. Just the king of Tyson. And for everyone out there who knows Tyson, that is an incredibly good feeling, and one not too many people have the pleasure to experience.
“Now what would that be?” he asked, smiling. He didn’t know already. Had he forgotten so soon? Really? It didn’t seem like him to forget that kind of stuff, because he had such a good memory. But still, would he get a shock when I reminded him. He would have to oblige too, because he made a promise, and Tyson never broke promises. I walked alongside him silently for a few seconds, just taking in the happy feel of the moments, just breathing them in and trying to hold them in my lungs for as long as I could. I smiled and I walked, and he smiled and he walked, and everyone smiled and everyone flowed, and everyone chirped and everyone sang, though no one could really hear it. Everyone was happy, and there was no stopping it. Or at least, that’s how I felt.
“Well, you made a little promise a couple days ago, that you would tell me that deep dark secret of yours if I talked to Ally and made everything better. Remember that? So, you better tell me soon, because you wouldn’t want to break your promise or anything.” Ha! I just felt like screaming a little emphasis, a victory call, a triumphant cheer. Something to make the world look over and know that I had conquered the great Tyson, the amazing Tyson, the one who always outsmarted people and didn’t even look back. He was supposed to be the one who foresaw things, the one who knew what was coming and was therefore able to counter it. But that wasn’t the way it went. The way it went was that I had him, and I wasn’t about to let him go. I wasn’t about to let him spring free, like he always seemed to be able to do. My heart pumped, but it wasn’t that nervous-happy pump that it was when it was around Kara. It was just a happy pump, my eyes felt like they could tear out of joy. No worry! Ha! I conquered Tyson and there was nothing he could do about it! My friends were back to normal, Redhead was going down, Dave or no Dave, and there was nothing that could spoil anything. My problems were over, and if they weren’t, I would be able to get over them, because I was strong and I was natural, instinctive, freely-flowing. Bus #11 wasn’t violent, and it wasn’t annoying; it was a challenge, as was any other bus on the face of the Earth. My friends were my friends, and if any of them were mean, then they weren’t my friends. We would always stay friends or not friends, and either way, I would be satisfied. Happiness wasn’t hard to come by, it was under every rock and around any corner, if only us humans would look up and find it shining in the winter sky. And the leaves were beautiful, and the snow was beautiful, and everything that was here was beautiful, and if it wasn’t beautiful, then we would just have to make it beautiful. I sighed shakily, in being so happy, and I tried to prevent myself from tearing, although it was basically inevitable. Over! It was all over and I had managed to do it all by myself! No more arguments, no more pep talks, just me myself and my friends, and my family and everything that was and wasn’t beautiful, right here, on this gaseous globe that we call home, right here, in this tamed life that we have been given.
“Oh, that,” Tyson said, and he looked down. He wasn’t happy for a split-second, but then he managed to smile again (as I said, the happiness was too contagious to be able to ignore, because it was in the air like something, I don’t know what, and it was all you could do not to break down and laugh randomly). “Well, I might tell you later. Let’s just wait a day or two and see if you’re mature enough for me to tell you. Then we’ll talk.”
“A day or two?” I asked in response, but, to tell you the truth, I didn’t mind. The fact that I had one was good enough for me to go by. Remember, I was just too happy, so happy, so ready for anything. I could get up and go, do anything, just do it, and not even have a problem. My friend wants me to go skydiving? Sign me up, make sure the parachute doesn’t have any gaping holes in it, and watch my jump off, flying free in the cool sky. So, you want me to go wrestle a few alligators? Well, as long as they’re not too hungry, buy a cage and shove me in, because I’ll tie their tails up and show them to the world.
That day, as I was sitting in class, a strange thought entered my head. It was probably because I was just so happy, and the fact was, everyone was just so happy, that I thought maybe I would give it a shot. I don’t know what it was about the air, but it was making me love drunk as well as happy drunk, or something like that. My mind was shooting around, hyperactive, so I decided that today would be the day that Kara was going to be mine. I was going to ask her out.
Now, it wouldn’t be too fancy or anything like that, because Kara didn’t like fancy. Kara liked low-key and intimate, so maybe I would catch her in the hall between classes or something, manage to catch up to her after school, and, in a place where we were fairly alone, I would just ask her out. Plain and simple. I would not give her a gift, a card, or anything like that. I would just offer her my heart, see if that was good enough or anything like that. Now what would I say? That wasn’t too big a problem, or anything, considering love does flow through my body, and stuff like that comes naturally, like the leaves changing color and floating lazily until they hit the ground. It was natural, and I didn’t even have to worry about it.
But there was something. Something was just nagging me unto no end, like it was there but it wasn’t supposed to be there, an itch or something, that I couldn’t satisfy. I understood what it was but I didn’t understand why it was there, why now of all times it had to be there. I didn’t understand why, with all the happiness and love drunk-ness in the air and whatnot, why it was even there at all, why it had escaped from that box of emotions in my brain and come to the forefront, and made my heart and gut pump in an attempt to just weed it out of there and exhale it.
Why was I even worried at all?
I mean, wasn’t it obvious that she liked me back. She hackin’ helped me ditch Ally! She had to like me if she was giving me that weird pep talk she did. And, although she wasn’t one who normally took a fancy to my type, there was that little part of my heart that was wise and knew that she liked me back. My gut knew, and my heart knew, and the very blood that ran through my veins knew, but my head didn’t know for sure. My head was seriously considering the fact that she liked someone else, and my heart sank. What if she did like someone else? What if, disguised under her porcelain face and her golden curls she was fancying someone other than me? Was it true? Were my assumptions incorrect after all? I didn’t know what to think for a second. I was having second thoughts, first of all, like us humans tend to do if we think about something too long. I was thinking about it and thinking about it, and it was like Abe and the Devil were sitting on my shoulders, one telling me to ask her out and one not. But the problem was, I didn’t know which was which. Was Abe telling me to ask her out, or maybe it was the Devil, trying to make me suffer somehow? I could imagine their argument, I just didn’t know who would be saying what.
“Ask her out, it will be for your good. You know you want to, and you know that’s what your heart says.”
“No, use your brain. She might like someone else. Are you going to take that risk, that she doesn’t like you?”
“Don’t even listen to that one on the other shoulder. She likes you back, at least, that’s what your gut says, right? So why don’t you ask her? What are you even going to lose?”
“Everything! Remember when you found out that Ally liked you, but you didn’t like her back. It’s going to be exactly the same! She’s going to have to talk to you about it, and she doesn’t like you. Don’t risk it!”
But, who really cared. It was the day before Christmas Vacation, so I was going to make the best of it. I did. I went through the day at my happiest, constantly just looking back, looking up, and seeing how good everything was, how everything flowed in that constant motion that was so calming yet invigorating. I couldn’t imagine, I couldn’t buy, I couldn’t create this kind of ecstasy. It was so happy because it was, because it was in everyone, because it was a piece of everyone’s soul.
Okay, then it was time for a challenge. In other words, bus #11.
It came into the little circle like it always did, and I was one of the first ones on. Redhead was nowhere in sight, and I figured maybe he got sick and blown away by the harsh yet soothing winter air. I hoped that this day would be perfectly topped off with a sweet cherry, Redhead not at least slightly ruining everything by being on the bus. Maybe I would get my wish, and Ally and Chris and I would be able to laugh our heads of without having to worry about Dan Keppler and his little football friend, without even having to show him up. I wanted to end the day like that, with my friends, and with my happiness staying, for the most part, in tact.
But then, something even better happened. I looked up for a split-second and knew something was going to happen, something good. I knew because I could feel it, I could sense it, like one of those deer can sense danger from a mile away I could sense it. It was up ahead, it was coming, something good, something very good. I smiled, I looked up at the front of the bus, waiting. Ally and Chris followed my gaze, figured I was watching for something, and they were right. I knew something good was going to happen, and I’m not just saying that because it actually happened and it was good. I actually truly knew it was going to happen.
Kara Armond climbed onto bus #11.
She looked around, as if she was studying the surroundings, and my face lit up and my heart started pumping vigorously. I felt almost limp, almost weak, a bit dizzy, and then I pulled it together. I smiled, glad that another one of my friends was actually on the bus with me, not glad that my crush that I was actually considering asking out was on the bus, but just that it was one of my friends. I was hoping Ally wouldn’t sense that she was my crush, considering that I had just told her that I didn’t like her back, or anything like that, and that would have been a little uncomfortable. But the same thought kept running through my head, one that I couldn’t ignore. She was going to ask me out, I could feel it in my blood, just boiling, just sitting, just patiently waiting. I could feel it, my brain even thought it, even though I hadn’t even thought about it for a long time, I just knew about it. I smiled even wider, and then she spotted me, nodding her head and heading over. Ally smiled too, considering Kara was her friend as well (you can’t imagine how fast we all became friends with her, and she entered our little group of people we were friends with and all that), and the golden-haired girl sat down in front of me, in the seat across from Chris. “Hey, I was pretty sure someone I knew was on this bus, I just couldn’t remember who,” she said. It was a lie, I knew it was a lie. She knew I was on the bus, and she wanted to ask me out. Maybe she would wait until Ally got off, just because it would be uncomfortable to ask in front of someone who was still probably crushing on me, and Kara was a nice person. She would wait until Ally’s stop, and then she would ask me, and I would hesitate to build up pressure, just for a little, and then I would say yes. I would say yes, and we would live happily ever after. That’s how it would go, I was sure of it.
The bus’ engine revved, and it was almost time to go. Kara seemed to be focused with looking out the right hand window for some reason, but I just figured she liked the look of everything. Even though it was still kind of late in the year, there were a few red leaves lying around on the ground, from one of the trees near the bus circle. I smiled. She liked the leaves, she thought they were beautiful too, just like me. Anything in common was a plus, for her and for me, for everyone. For me.
But then it stopped suddenly, and Kara smiled. Redhead climbed on, and I muttered, “darn it,” under my breath. Well, at least it wouldn’t be spoiled too much considering Kara was about to ask me out. In fact, I would be able to flaunt the fact that I had a girlfriend in Redhead’s stinking face, and he would cringe and look away, dissatisfied and beaten. It would be emotional instead of physical, something that Dave wouldn’t be able to stop. I smiled at the thought of it, and my ears went red.
“Hey Dan,” Kara said, and she waved. “Dan” smiled and waved back. I shrugged, wondering how she knew him. Cousins? Family friends? Maybe he acted nice around her. That would actually be kind of cool, because, when we were a couple, if he was mean to me, I would be able to tell her, and she would not like him, and then he would have to be nice to me. I grinned at the thought.
“How do you two know each other?” Ally took the liberty to ask, not having the same kind of imaginative mind I had. Of course, I already had the answer figured out, as it was the only answer possible. Ally was too slow to realize that however.
“Well, I wanted to keep it on the down low until after Vacation, when we really got to know each other. But, since you asked, Ally, Dan and I are an official couple.”
Wait, what? Slow down. A couple? That’s what I was thinking, but I was speechless.
I thought my problems were over.
They had only just begun. |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 11, 2007 18:20:49 GMT -5
I got this one done a while ago, but here's Chapter Eleven! HAVE FUN! “Well, I guess I’ll see you after vacation!”
Those were the only eight words I said on that whole bus ride. I just kind of sat there, speechless, listening but not really listening, looking at the two of them. Kara and Redhead? Kara and Redhead? They didn’t seem like a good pair at all, considering they were both different ages, and one was nice and one wasn’t. They didn’t look like the people who would be together. And, as I got off the bus, and I saw the two of them look into each other’s eyes, I didn’t see that spark that people normally get. I looked at the bus as it rolled off, and, being stunned and all, I simply mouthed the word, ‘How?’
I sure didn’t know.
Love is a tough subject, it seems. It’s like it’s there, and it’s so obvious and plain that you can just see it, you can see those fake hearts floating above the person’s head. You can see the heart leap into the boundaries of the chest, and the eyes bulge and the compassion flow through his veins. And sometimes, she is able to hide it, looking at him from a distance, wondering and wishing, stumbling and pondering, does he really like me? Sometimes, people are able to get together, they really like each other, not just some fake love, and others are surprised. Love is really unpredictable, unprecedented, everything you could possibly think of, and yet it is still here, it’s still on Earth, and it doesn’t look like it’s going away anytime soon. And when I think of that glance I got of the two of them, I don’t think of love. I didn’t see the imaginary hearts over his head, or the bulging eyes, and I couldn’t see her watching from a distance, wondering, pondering. I couldn’t see the connection, the bond, the link, the empathy, the sympathy, the friendship. Maybe I was deceived by my own eyes, which were still set on Kara, but I really didn’t think so. This wasn’t just a heart decision, it was a heart and head decision, which really told me that I could definitely be right. They didn’t look like they liked each other, which was the thing that really got me down. Why would Kara choose someone she didn’t truly like over me, other than the reason that she simply didn’t like me? I sighed, knowing I would have to move on, but I wouldn’t stop crushing on her. I knew that. Love doesn’t know when to stop, it’s like an instinct instead of an emotion. It keeps going as long as everything else keeps going. But still, I knew that there was something wrong with the situation. It was really awkward, and they were friends, but they weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend. You probably still don’t get it. When two people love each other, they really want to be around each other, that’s the fatal attraction. But I could tell they didn’t have that drive, the want, the feeling of happiness when they were around each other. The hearts didn’t beat at their fastest, and I could see Kara spending a couple weeks without Redhead and not minding. That was not true love, that was friendship, but it wasn’t true love. Was she deceived, was he? Was I? Was it really love, or was it fake, an attempt to have a boyfriend or girlfriend to show off. I didn’t believe in that. Love was love, that was it, no crap involved, and the fact that they were together, it crept me out, didn’t make sense. It was a mystery that had yet to be solved. And they didn’t love each other, I will tell you forever, they didn’t. I knew from that moment, the moment I saw them through the bus window that they didn’t love each other, that they hadn’t fallen for each other in the way that teenagers do. There was still a long way to go from the hearts above the head, or the bulging eyes, or any of that stuff. There was a bond, but it did not stick, it was easily penetrated.
But what I really didn’t understand, more than how, was why? Why, if my suspicions were right and they didn’t really like each other, would they act like they were boyfriend and girlfriend. Sure, I guess to show off, but I didn’t think that Kara was that kind of person. She didn’t rope in a boy and call him her boyfriend just to show him off, especially if he happened to be a year younger than her, and she definitely didn’t just spontaneously, without love, decide to ask him out or accept his invitation. Still, I found them together that afternoon, right before Christmas Vacation, left with over a week to ponder exactly why the heck they were sticking together. They didn’t love each other, I had already determined that, and other than the possible petty feeling, I couldn’t understand how they even found each other in the first place. Why does one fake love, or why does one put a mask over his or her eyes to pick a crush. Was it true love? No. It was a fake love, an emotion disguised in the shape of love, a feeling similar to love, but it was not love. I knew love. I knew passion. I knew love. Kara didn’t know love, and neither did Redhead, yet they thought they did. Was that it? Did they want to show others and themselves that they really knew what love was, that they could truly love someone and get together with them? Was it an impression they wanted to make, a feeling they wanted to prove? Was it an experiment to test what love truly was, or did they really truly think they loved each other, and dearly, too? I didn’t know the answer to any of these questions, and I really tried to figure them out before the end of Christmas Vacation, to some degree. My Kara, Kara Armond, the one that I had chosen to be my loved one, did she know herself what love actually was?
Needless to say, I’d had enough of that by the end of vacation.
After vacation, which is a pretty long time, I’d pretty much gotten over the fact that the two of them were together (even though it was pretty horrifying; I mean, Kara and Redhead!), because I’d talked to Kara about it over email and phone calls. She said that she really liked him, otherwise she wouldn’t go out with him, and I didn’t doubt her. My heart didn’t really sink though. I wasn’t happy, that was for sure, but the fact was, she seemed happier, and that kind of made me happy. And, I also figured that she would move on eventually, and that meant she might move on to liking me, so I still had a fair chance out there. It didn’t even matter, considering there was nothing I could do about it at the time anyway, so I kind of went along with it. Maybe she would make Redhead stop bothering me, considering he didn’t bother me while she was on the bus with him. So, maybe, if I was lucky, the relationship would turn out to be for my benefit. As long as I didn’t have to see them kiss or anything like that, I was partially fine with it, in a kind of strange weird sort of way.
And, of course, I had other things on my mind as well. Like Tyson’s secret. “Come on Tyson, can’t you tell me?” I asked during homeroom on the day we came back after vacation. It wasn’t drunk-happy day anymore, so I wasn’t satisfied with the answer he had given me a long while before, and I really wanted to know. Hadn’t he promised to tell me once I settled things with Ally? Yeah, I believe he did, so I wanted to know, like I really wanted to know. I was a curious little fellow, especially considering Tyson was being so secretive about this. He was right when he said the more I thought about it, the more I would want to know, because every time I thought about it, I wanted to know more. What was the secret about, anyway? Crush? Death? Something weird that I would never even suspect, like he wet his bed every night, or something like that? Basically, was it a good secret or a bad secret, something that he wanted to hide because it would ruin his life, or something he wanted to hide because it was a surprise. Instinct told me it was the first one, considering, normally if someone has a surprise they have to hide, they normally just say, “It’s a surprise,” instead of, “It’s my biggest, deepest darkest secret and I will never ever tell anyone, so there.” But, Tyson was a strange little fellow, so I didn’t really know what to expect out of him. Maybe he was acting like it was this huge secret when it was a surprise that I would have to wait for. My birthday was in February, and it was early January, so maybe he didn’t expect me to resolve the Ally thing until later, so maybe that was the whole thing, and I didn’t have to worry about it. But the thing was, what if it wasn’t that kind of thing? What if it was this huge thing that he felt he really had to hide? I once read that it’s unhealthy to keep feelings pent up like that, and he was doing exactly that, keeping his feelings pent up. I kind of wanted to make it feel safe for him, like he could tell me anything.
“I can’t tell you yet,” he answered. That really sounded like the whole surprise party on my birthday. But would he have started planning it in October? Was it really that big? Or was it something else. Maybe he knew that someone liked me, and he didn’t want to ruin it for them. The compromise would make sense then: let Ally down and then I’ll tell you who else wants to get together with you, but something about that didn’t fit either. It was like, okay, why don’t I wait until you solve this problem and I’ll load this one on you. Why would he even tell me it was a secret anyway, or even mention it or something, bring it up, if he had to keep it hidden. Was he bursting at the seams? Did he feel he had to reveal it but he just couldn’t, or the other way around? I needed some information here, or rather, I wanted it, and I wanted it right away.
“Is there something wrong or something, because you really seem reluctant about this one. Are you hiding something because it would be dangerous if it got out, or are you hiding something specifically from me? I don’t really get why you’re not telling me,” I told him. Maybe, if I could get enough information out of him, I would piece together the whole thing and figure the secret out. But would he reveal the wrong information, or the right information? That was really the question I was asking myself. I wanted to know the secret, no, I really wanted to know the secret, just because of the fact that Tyson had never hid a secret from me, EVER. Every secret he kept from everyone else, he always told it to me. I was slightly worried. Maybe he had some sort of disease or bad habit that he didn’t want to tell anyone about. What if he was really in danger, or something like that? Wasn’t it my job as friend to get it out of him and save him? But then, what if he really didn’t want to tell, and if he did, his social or physical life would be threatened? Then wouldn’t it be better to let him be? And should I really have succumbed to all that curiosity, and was it really healthy? Or should I have just not thought about it too much and went on with my life, like most people did, like Ally and Kara did. There were so many questions I wanted the answer to, it wasn’t just one straight thing, and I really wanted to know the answers. I wanted to help, not hurt, because the last thing I needed between me and any of my friends was tension.
“Well, both. I have to hide it from everybody, so that means I have to hide it from you,” Tyson willfully gave his answer. I was kind of glad that he was at least being a little more open about it, because I was sincerely getting a little worried, if I must tell you the truth. Tyson and I were the best of the best of friends, since 2nd grade, and if there was something he was hiding from me, then obviously it was big and/or tough stuff. I really should have left him alone, I thought, but it was even risky not to. The fact that I cared showed that I was his friend, if not a worried friend. Maybe I was proving to him and myself that I really did care, and I didn’t want to let anything like this go by unnoticed.
“Why? Will you…I don’t know, will it ruin something? Tell me, will it ruin the friendship, the bond, between you and me?”
“That’s what I really have to figure out before I tell you.” Well, this was a whole different thing, a huge thing, if it risked our very friendship.
“Okay. We’ll talk about this later, I guess. If you feel that you’re ready to tell me, or if I’m ready to…er…take in the information, please do though. I’m actually getting a little worried, since you’re being so secretive and all.” Play it slow, that was the key. Maybe I could lure him into it, but it wasn’t about finding out and all anymore. I wanted to know, but not only to satisfy my curiosity. I knew that it might cause tension, and if he was hiding something like that from me, I needed to know, as a friend, what it was.
Either way, I was kind of looking forward to the bus. Kara would be there, first of all, and I wouldn’t have to really deal with Redhead, considering, you know, the whole fake love/real love kind of thing. I didn’t exactly know what to think, but I didn’t really care either. But there was one problem.
Kara wasn’t on the bus.
Nor would she be. She just said that she came on to satisfy Redhead’s curiosity on how she thought the bus was, or something. She would be going on her regular bus from then on, and there I would be left with Redhead and his little (big?) friend Dave, who would probably beat us into oblivion if we even argued with him again. I slapped the seat as I saw him climb on at the last second, and I knew that the last bus ride was the eye of the storm, that little bit of luck I had that I was able to avoid some torture or something like that. I was happy, but as soon as I found out, I found myself mad in a sense. That Kara abandoned me, because of some stupid request because of Redhead. He probably wanted her off the bus, because he didn’t like being all nice with us, and he wanted to assert himself again.
“Well, guess who’s got himself a girlfriend in 8th grade. She’s a year older than me people so, uh, yeah, you should probably bow down, because I’m like, the hottest and sexiest thing ever to go to, like, Central Middle School. And yeah, it’s your stinking friend James, and she’s not your girlfriend, and she’s freakin’ hot, so you’re GAY. Like always. Either way, you should all, like, clap for me or something because, I am freaking awesome, and you all know it, because I’m just so hot.” I was kind of tuned out after the first sentence, because I didn’t feel like listening to the voice of crap anymore, and when he saw that I was basically ignoring him, he walked up to me and slapped the seat in front of me, getting me to turn around and give him that attention he so badly needed. “What’s up with you? Aren’t you like, mad or something, because I got your friend to be my girlfriend? Or not? Because you’re gay? Who’s that guy you hang out with, Tyson? He’s like, gay too or something, and you two make out in his locker. Oh wait, maybe you make out with Chris or something. Who’s hotter in your opinion, James? Gaylord freak? Who’s hotter, that Tyson or Chris? Or maybe you make out with yourself?”
“First off, I’m not gay, second off, neither of them are hot to me, and third off, you can’t make out with yourself,” I said in a kind of half sigh. I was tired of him insulting me, so I saw it as a kind of bore, a chore almost, to have to deal with him. Ally smiled when she saw that I was totally owning him, but he didn’t.
“Wait, what? So you do make out with yourself? You like it when other people touch you. You know, like this, kind of up in there like, oh yeah, you like it, don’t you.” He was up in my chest, rubbing it, which he hadn’t done for a surprisingly long time, I noticed. I shoved the hand away, scoffing in disgust, and he seemed slightly satisfied that he had gotten a reaction out of me. I wasn’t willing to get up and fight, even more than a month after Dave had really put us down, because I didn’t want to make everything worse. I figured that if Dave was that serious, he was going to beat us up if we showed any resistance, so I was determined not to get into any skirmishes or anything like that.
“You want to make out with Chris, don’t you? Come on, go over! You know you want to.” He was pushing me and Chris, trying to get our lips to touch (which I found incredibly disgusting) so I pushed him back into his seat, kind of hard. It was a more instinctive reaction, considering I had my pride and my stomach to deal with, so when I realized that Dave was now getting up and looking a little angry, I kind of got worried.
“Listen, you can’t beat me up. It was a push so he wouldn’t hackin’ touch me anymore, okay? Are you seriously going to come punch me? Is he, like, paying you, or something like that? Is there some reason you feel the need to defend this little creep, or do you have something better to do in your spare time?” I looked over at Redhead, who looked like he was smiling in that annoying gremlin knowing kind of way, and I got the urge to punch him square in the nose, but I didn’t. I resisted it for my sake, and for Dave’s, who I didn’t want to reduce to the low status of having to beat me up.
“I’m going to have to beat the crap out of you know,” he said, the first time I actually heard him talk on the bus. He walked up to me and pushed me out of the seat and then back in, slamming me against the wall. I was really surprised, and gasped as I tried to brace myself, to no avail of course. He got me in the chest, right where Redhead was touching, and then he pulled my hair and slammed me into that metal wall he had been staring at just a couple weeks before. I grimaced but attempted to take the pain. There had to be some reason for this, but what? Were they that good friends, and he felt that kind of need to beat me up because I simply shoved Redhead away and into his own seat.
“Stop, please. You don’t want to hurt me. Just please, you’ve got to listen to me. There is no reason for you to do this to me, to inflict this kind of pain on me because of him. Is he really your friend? That mean person over there, constantly bragging, constantly putting everyone down, is he really your friend? Or are you letting him take advantage of you? That’s what it is, you’re letting him take advantage of you, take control, just control your life to the highest extent. He won’t let you do anything on your own. Is that your friend, or is that your boss, your oppressor, your dictator? So, for the life of me and the rest of the world, would you stop beating me up on your so-called friend’s behalf?” But of course, he didn’t go and listen to me, because why the hell would he do that. When we pulled into my stop, he just went out and jabbed me in the eye, and I put my hand up while I secretly let a tear drip down my face. It hurt, but I didn’t want to show it.
I pulled my backpack up to my shoulder and walked down the bus, getting off. The pain in my eye was almost overwhelming, considering Dave, one of the strongest kids in our grade (and, come to think of it, the whole school) had just seriously got one in on my eye. But still, something about it seemed unnatural, like he went easy on me. No way it was a black eye; it didn’t hurt that much. Maybe he was acting and he put a little too much emphasis on the punch by accident. But still, he went easy on me, I knew he went easy on me. There was something preventing him, or maybe he was preventing himself, from hitting me, like he wanted to protect me. Like he really didn’t want to beat me up. So why was he?
And then, as I looked back, I could see the sorrow in Dave’s eyes.
Something was very wrong with that situation. I didn’t know what, maybe it was the way he looked at me like he was genuinely sorry, or the way that Redhead was smirking as I got off the bus, but something was wrong. I didn’t know what was wrong, but something was wrong. I couldn’t put my finger on it. There was no way Dave would be provoked to beat me up just because I shoved Redhead back because he was annoying me. There was no way in hell that that was the reason. It wasn’t because of that, and I doubted that Redhead was paying him to do it, because there would be no reason in doing that, and Redhead would be losing an awful lot of money. No, there was some other motive that I wasn’t thinking about, some other reason.
Something was very wrong with that situation, but, for the first time in my 8th grade here, I had no clue what. |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 11, 2007 21:17:09 GMT -5
Chapter Twelve, just where I wanted to be! ;D Ally was the first to know. I guess I never really mentioned it, but she got off before Dave had the chance to get his licks in on me. “Ally,” I said as I climbed on to the bus that morning, “I got beat up yesterday.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, kind of bewildered. I had never gotten beat up before, and I’m talking never. The bullies at my school were definitely verbal, but almost never physical, so getting beat up was a rare occurrence at my school, if it even happened at all. I thought about it for a little, being one of the only kids in my grade to ever get beat up. I wouldn’t exactly consider it an honor, because it makes me look like a weakling and all, but it was kind of cool, like I was in some special club with beat-up bragging rights or something. And it made me look a little more macho, if I do say so myself.
“After you got off, I pushed Redhead back while he was…you know…touching me, and then Dave got up and beat me up. But the worst part was that I could see he didn’t want to, or something like that, like Redhead was forcing him or something. I couldn’t understand it, really, but that’s what it was like. I could see the sorrow in his eyes, I swear, and I don’t understand why the heck he would do that to me. If he didn’t want to or anything.” I sighed deeply, and sat down next to her. I didn’t know whether to tell Kara or anything, because I wanted her to have a worry-free relationship with Redhead, but then again, I would have to tell her eventually. I actually thought that it might have been a good idea to tell her, but then again, I wasn’t good with that kind of stuff.
“You got beat up? We should tell a teacher or something, shouldn’t we?” Ally asked, of course, always looking out for everyone’s health and well-being. She was always like that, and I was glad she was too. It made me feel a little bit safer.
“No, that means Redhead wins,” I explained. “Here’s the thing. I have to beat him up to win. I have to trick him or something, telling on him means I lose, means I have to resort to adult help to win. That’s kind of like cheating, and cheaters lose, of course. So I don’t want to do that, because that gives him victory, because I’m breaking the rules. I don’t know if that’s more of a masculine philosophy or if that’s how bullies work, but I know that it’s true, whatever it is. So please, for me, Ally, and for my sake, don’t tell any adults, okay?” I asked, or rather I kind of begged as well. She nodded in agreement, apparently okay that I was risking myself just so Redhead wouldn’t get the 1-up on me. I guess it was a good thing that I was setting out to settle things on my own, because I kind of needed to. It was taking a toll on me, this Redhead business, and I needed to deal with it myself. I needed to show him who was boss without the help of any adults or any of that stuff. I needed to prove to myself, more than anyone, that I could beat him, that I wouldn’t let him outsmart me, that I was top of the food chain, instead of just saying that I could, or that I would. Because that was just the way I was.
I told Kara as soon as I got to school. Well actually, it was in Social Studies, which I had 1st period, so it was more like I told her 5 minutes after I got to school, but I think you get the picture. I said to her, I said, “Kara, can I talk to you a minute? Because I have something that I feel is important for you to know.” It’s funny because that’s how I imagined telling her that I liked her, and that I would really like it if she went out with me. She seemed intrigued, and I walked over there, nodding my head. “You know, Kara, you know Redhead’s friend, Dave, who’s on my bus? He’s also in our grade, so he might be in one of your classes or something.”
“Yes”, she said, “yes I know him.”
“Well, yesterday, when Redhead was kind of being rowdy with me a little bit,” (I didn’t want to ruin any relationship between them or anything, so I didn’t say how he was being rowdy or anything), I told her, “and so I shoved him away. Well, apparently that provoked my big old friend, or, rather, his big old friend, Dave, and he came over and he just plum beat me up. He reared back and the next thing I knew I was up against the wall and he was striking me in the eye. I got really hurt and all, and I just wanted you to know that, because I feel that it’s important for you to know and all. I don’t want to make things tough for you and Redhead or anything, just so you know, I just thought you might like to know and tell him to tell his friend to stop beating me up or something like that.” I was kind of nervous telling it to her, like she would get mad at me or overreact, but she looked really caring and all, like she was mad at Dave for doing something like that to me.
“You call him Redhead? Good name, I think I’ll take it up. Either way, uh, yeah, I’ll definitely talk to Dan about that. I’m really sorry that one of his good friends would do that to you. Oh, are you hurt or anywhere? Shouldn’t we tell anyone that you got beat up?” I bit my lip, knowing that it wasn’t just Redhead’s friend that had beat me up, it was Redhead behind everything, but for some reason, I just couldn’t tell her. It was mostly fear of her not believing me, because I thought she would get made if I accused her boyfriend of such a heinous act.
“No, please don’t tell. I know that sounds a little strange, but I don’t want anyone to tell anyone about this, if you could please understand. Just try to keep it on the down-low and don’t tell anyone, could you do that for me, please? I don’t want anything big to go down or anything.” I don’t know why the thought came to mind, but I found it amusing that I sounded a little bit like one of those Texans down south, like I was speaking in some sort of southern dialect or something like that. Kara nodded somberly, and I could tell that it worried her that I was getting beat up, but she respected my request.
That day, at lunch, Kara and Ally decided to sit at another table. I found it strange that they left me and Tyson alone, but they insisted that we stay away because they had something important to talk about. Tyson shrugged and didn’t really mind, considering he said he wanted to talk to me privately anyway. When he said that I got a little worried, like, why would he want to talk to me privately, but I figured he was just saying that to make them feel better or something, like he always did. So when he sat down at lunch, and he cleared his throat, I was pretty darn surprised when he said, “Okay, I’m ready to tell you the secret, because I really think you can handle it.”
I went into a small lapse of shock. I was so used to Tyson denying me the right to know what his secret was, but now he was telling me that I was ready to know. I got a little excited and a little worried at the same time, considering I knew the secret was serious stuff because he had been hiding it from me for so long. I nodded, and he smiled. “Don’t be so tense. So, here’s the thing. I’m not going to tell you here, because you never know who’s listening in, so you’ve got to meet me by the Mole’s Hideout after school. Got that? And don’t be so late, because I kind of want to get it over with, if you know what I mean.”
Okay, let me explain a little bit. The Mole’s Hideout is this spot next to the art teacher’s room. We call it the Mole’s Hideout because there used to be a huge stuffed mole there, and we considered the little space it was stuffed in its hideout. So, if anything we did was conducted there, it was either really important or really secret. And this one was definitely really secret.
I looked at Tyson, unsure of what to say. “Um, first off, you seem a bit hesitant about this. Are you absolutely sure that you’re ready to do this? I mean, I don’t want you to go and make the wrong decision or anything, or act rashly. That would be the exact opposite of what I’d want you to do. I want you to think this through a little, and I want you to make sure that you’re totally making the right decision. I’m only trying to look out for your well-being and I would hate it if you decided to tell me a secret I wasn’t supposed to know. So make sure you think about this before I actually know, okay? That’s the whole reason for this, to make sure we’re all on the same, healthy, page, so that we know what we’re dealing with and we can be good friends to the best of our ability.” I don’t know how much Tyson realized this, but it was really imperative that he thought the whole thing over. If he just went out and decided to tell me information I wasn’t supposed to know, that would be a pretty bad thing, because that would mean that I knew something that I wasn’t supposed to know for a good reason. In other words, I was really trying to protect the both of us, just for the sake of keeping us on good terms with everyone. I know of people who have revealed secrets and it’s gone badly for them, and I just wanted to make sure that everything stayed together. After all, if the secret took a risk of destroying our friendship, then I obviously didn’t want to hear it at all. After all, who was I to say what was and what was not a good idea for me to know? No, that was Tyson’s decision, and if he chose the wrong decision, things could happen, bad things could happen. I don’t know what came over me, after all that curiosity and all that nagging and all that stuff, but I felt that if I didn’t warn Tyson everything would go wrong, that if he didn’t actually think everything through, something would just go horrible wrong and askew and everything would be torn apart like a hurricane had just ripped through the school. If I didn’t want to hear it, I didn’t want to hear it, but if he needed to tell me, he needed to tell me. I nodded and gulped constantly as he digested my words, my fair warning, and then he looked at me with worried eyes. He was obviously in the midst of thinking everything over, and he was deliberating and he was deciding. I was a little worried for him, again, but I wasn’t too worried. If it was Tyson, he had to make a good decision, he had to make the right decision, because Tyson always made the right decision. It didn’t matter what it was about, Tyson was too smart to make the wrong decision, he just was too smart for it. He could always avoid tension, dodge it, evade it, because of his amazing decision-making skills. So why was this so hard for him? Should I have been worried, because I wasn’t too worried? Was this Tyson actually going to make the wrong decision? Because something told me that Tyson couldn’t make the wrong decision, but something else told me that he could, that Tyson wasn’t perfect just like everyone else wasn’t perfect, that he was just as worried about this as everyone else, and that he really was having a hard time. I knew that I had to help him, I had to support him, but how? How was I supposed to help him in a subject that I didn’t even know much about? That was the question that I didn’t know the answer to, and, as Tyson really thought about it, gave his imaginary beard a rub, and then breathed in to answer my question, I almost felt like plugging up his mouth and just ignoring the whole thing altogether.
“I’m sure.”
I nodded.
“I really thought it through, if that’s what your worried about, I really did. I can assure you that this decision I’m making is really what I want to do. I’ve been thinking about it, and I think you’re ready to know. I don’t know, I just feel like I need to tell someone, that if I don’t I’ll just burst at the seams or something. Like I’ll explode, a volcano, and billow smoke. I need to tell you, but you need to be as understanding and sensitive as possible. You could laugh, or you could have the urge to not be my friend, but I want you to ignore that and look at it from my standpoint, and walk in my shoes. This is serious business, James, and I don’t want you to think otherwise. Remember, meet me by the Mole’s Hideout, right after you get your stuff packed, and you’re in for a real treat.” He sighed as he finished telling me his decision, and I also sighed. I was in for it now, I was in for it and I was in deep. This was it, this was officially it, and it was almost time to hear what Tyson had to say, to know what he had been hiding from me for the past few months. It was time to find out what I had been so curious about, so worried about, thinking about for a really long time. I was going to find out what Tyson considered necessary to hide.
“Well, all I can say is that it’s really your choice, not my thing to say. Still, I will warn you, just be careful. Make sure this is what you want.” To tell you the truth, I was, at the time, a bit more nervous than excited. You would think that after all that waiting, nagging, pleading, attempted trapping, you would think that I would be really happy knowing that I would soon find out Tyson’s secret, but, now that I thought about it, I really didn’t want to know. But now Tyson wanted me to know. So, I guess he was wrong. The more you think about it, the more you want to know. But really, the more I thought about it, the less I wanted to know, and the more he wanted to tell me.
Strange thought, I know, but it’s a part of life.
During homeroom, I sat next to him silently, wondering if I should have talked to him or not. I mean, life was going on and all, but I felt like it had stopped, it had created tension where there shouldn’t have been. Everything should have been normal, but, then again, what is normal? I sure hadn’t been experiencing it lately, and I wasn’t expecting anything to be normal exactly. Still, the fact that I was going to learn of a secret in about four hours shouldn’t have been so unnerving that we didn’t even talk. I didn’t know what to say. Should it have been normal conversation, or should it have been regarding more serious conversation matter? I was incredibly confused, and, not knowing what to do, I decided to work silently on my social studies homework, thus avoiding the situation altogether.
School ended.
School ended like it always ended, time passed like it always passed. Everyone else still hurried and I still hurried, and Tyson probably still hurried. We chatted, we rushed, we cheered, we laughed, we did everything in silence and serenity, but it was no different than before. It was simply just there, the same, just like it always was. I sighed. Why was today going to be different for everyone else? Their lives were not in correlation to mine, so why expect everything to go slower. There are no worlds that revolve around one single person, and one single person cannot simply throw off the balance. But still, shouldn’t we be able to change the world? Not with our emotions, but through other people. In truth, it is not one person changing the world, but one person getting others to help change the world.
As I pensively thought about all this, gathering my books, I subconsciously wondered what the secret was. I had no idea what it was about, but I had ruled out the idea of surprise. It was about him, though, whether it was about him and other people I had not yet decided. Either way, I was not in the mood to wait. I would have rather gotten it over with right there and then, just found out, just found out. I would have rather just listened and found out, without any distractions, and gotten it over with. It seemed to me as if this secret needed to be set free into the air, a free bird, as free on the wind as a bird can be, for the caged bird sings eventually. I just hoped to God that it wasn’t that bad, that it would ruin my life and his forever. I hoped it didn’t involve death, or, possibly worse, birth, I hoped it was nothing like that. And love could have been a potential problem. But then, what is a secret, if it doesn’t involve love? Love is everywhere, just like happiness is everywhere, you just have to have the eyes to look for it.
I walked down the hall to the Mole’s Hideout in deep thought. I tried to avert my mind from the task at hand, and, though it wasn’t demanding in the least, I knew it was going to be a challenge. I knew my heart would skip a beat, my breath would fall short; and there was nothing I could do about it, it was inevitable. So why was I really all that worried, if I knew what was happening? Isn’t it always like that? Wouldn’t it be worse to know when you’re going to die than to have it unexpectedly? To have to worry about it for all that time instead of living your life? But maybe it’s the opposite. Why worry about death, and not just live life all the same? What difference does it make if death is tomorrow or in fifty years? What difference does it make if you shall be born now or later? Life is life, death is death, love is love, nothing can change that but the person that is feeling it. People fear death because it is there, inevitable. It is something that we can’t change, something that we have no control over. It was the same with Tyson’s secret. It was something that I had no control over, and therefore, something that frightened me. And yet, I was looking forward to hearing it.
We met at the Mole’s Hideout, the halls were empty, as always, and he looked at me. I stared back, and, without even an affirmative nod, he knew that I was ready.
He leaned over kind of slowly, and I thought he was having second thoughts, but I knew, in my heart that he wasn’t. I felt his final breath on my ear as he readied himself to tell me the secret, that warm, moist breath, that made me a little clammy. As he reached into his heart and his gut to tell me, I knew it was coming, what it was, about three seconds before. And it didn’t surprise me until he actually told me.
“I have a crush on Dave McCormick.” |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 12, 2007 13:29:37 GMT -5
Chapter Thirteen everyone!! ;D Well, needless to say, I was a little surprised.
No, wait, let me rephrase. Well, needless to say, I was more than a little surprised. Um, my best friend was hiding something from me the whole time, and I had no clue. And, God, he was gay! I mean, I always took that as an insult, used it as an insult, frowned down upon them, avoided them, was crept out by them. All that stuff. And yet, here my best friend was, kneeling down beside me in the Mole’s Hideout, whispering in my ear that he was gay.
How weird is that?
I left him there after he told me, just got up, turned around, kind of nodded solemnly, and left. I walked swiftly down the hallway, trying to ignore the pair of eyes watching me, him sighing deeply and wondering if he had made the right decision, me wondering if it really was the truth. I mean, if you think about it, gay is sort of a strange topic. I didn’t like gay people. I never liked gay people, because they were weird, and I always thought they were going to try and molest me or something. Who didn’t like gay people? Was there anyone out there who liked them, or didn’t take a preference, other than homosexuals themselves? I didn’t really know, and I didn’t really care. I mean, maybe Tyson was playing a trick on me. But, a crush on Dave, that’s kind of specific. Knowing who he is, I mean, he’s so easily over passed by the human eye, and all of that, and here Tyson is telling me that he’s been eyeing this guy, this guy, and I haven’t even noticed. And then, when I told everyone that he beat me up, I realized that I never told Tyson. And there I vowed not to tell Tyson, not to make things worse. But how much worse could they already get? My best friend was a freaking homo! And I didn’t even know, oh man, it just went all by me.
What is love? Love is the attraction someone has to someone else, whether it be physical or emotional. And sometimes, love is between family, like you love your siblings and you would do lots of things to help them and to be with them. People love their pets, and some would go so far as to say they loved their friends, but here Tyson was saying that he liked-loved someone of the same gender. Love is indifferent, people say, people say that you can love everyone. Gay people say that anyway. But was this discrimination correct? For as long as I had known Tyson he was my best friend, and he was still the same person. Or maybe he was hiding a whole other persona under that brick wall face of his. Maybe, it was a possibility, he had liked me in the recent past, or it could happen in the future. Ew! How could I have been friends with him! This was just going on and pounding me, this new news, and I couldn’t get over it. It was just too hard, just too hard to digest in such a short time. Gay? Homosexual? But didn’t he have a crush on girls before? Then maybe he was bisexual! This was a breakthrough here, but it wasn’t a breakthrough here, because he was gay! I went home on the bus and that was all I could think about. I couldn’t think about stupid Redhead, who decided to lay off, and I couldn’t concentrate on any conversations. But Tyson was hackin’ gay and I didn’t even know! How could I not have known? I vowed then and there to avoid him at all costs at school tomorrow. He could have been planning to rape me, or something like that. Maybe he was going to be a child molester when he grew up, and that crept me out. Weren’t all gay people molesters? And if he was gay, being my best friend, and he was able to hide that fact from me, who knew how many homos were hiding in our school, just waiting to come out of the closet? I shivered at the thought. Not just boys, but girls too. Which girls were lesbian? Was Ally, Kara? No, they weren’t, I was sure they weren’t. But who else should I have told? What about Ally, and Kara, were they to stay in the dark? And what about me? How was I going to deal with this epic chunk of news? There was too much running through my head, and I wanted it out. I just wanted to stop being friends with Tyson, but I couldn’t, just because he was my friend and I couldn’t just ditch him. But he was my gay friend. Wouldn’t that ruin my reputation, having a friend that was gay, or something like that? Wouldn’t people hate me? No, I had to avoid him as much as possible. I would have to sit away from him at lunch, at homeroom, something to just avoid him and never talk to him. Didn’t all gay people walk weird and have that weird voice? At least that’s what I thought.
Either way, when I got home, I just ran straight up to my room, wondering what to do. My mom was home as well (one of the few times she was when I arrived), and she seemed to notice that something was up with me, so she came and followed me into my room. “Anything wrong, honey?” she asked worriedly, peering in and seeing me pensively sitting on the bed, eyes sparkling and mind awhirl. I looked up at her, knowing there was no way I could ever tell her. I couldn’t tell anybody, not even myself. I knew I had to deny it. There was no other way I would be able to live through it. I would just have to pretend the secret had never been revealed, that Tyson wasn’t gay, or that I didn’t know. But how can a guy just ignore that, and sit next to a homo, with his homo stares and his homo germs, and all that? How could I do that, how could me, one of the many homophobic kids in my school, befriend someone that was gay, find out, and stay friends with him. Wasn’t it the right thing to do not be friends with him? Or was it right to stay friends with him and deny the fact? I needed some answers, but this was the one thing that I just couldn’t bring myself to talk to mom about.
“Oh, sorry, it’s nothing. I just have a lot of homework so I was in a hurry to my room to get it done,” I said, after a few seconds of thinking. I could tell mom didn’t buy it, but I could also tell that she was smart enough to lay off and think things over with myself. She nodded and walked out of my room, leaving me with my heavy heart and my heavy backpack, everything weighed down with things to think about, regret, decide, answer. I wished I just had someone to help me, but there was no one who would ever be able to understand. No one. There was no one with a gay best friend, everyone hated gay people, it was like a given. But then again, who was gay, what was gay, what was it all about? Were there people like me, who had best friends who were gay, yet didn’t know it? Probably, considering Tyson did a pretty good job hiding it from me anyway. I sighed again, for what seemed about the hundredth time that week (which was a valid guess, I think), and then readied myself for the days ahead. There were still three days left in the week, and I was going to have to survive all of them. All three of them, managing to figure things out and ignore Tyson’s problem. How long would I have to disguise my fear, anyway? How long, how well, how in general? So many questions, so few answers, and I still had a ways to go.
The next day, at school, I found myself avoiding Tyson, even though I promised myself I wouldn’t. I didn’t really think that it would be too hard, just sitting next to him through a whole lunch period, but it was hard like that. It was seeing him in the halls. And the worst part was, I saw it on his face that he knew exactly what I was thinking, how I was reacting. He knew that I was avoiding him, so I was feeling a little guilty. But then I thought that I shouldn’t have felt guilty. And then I realized, never once did the thought occur to me that it was Tyson’s fault that he was gay. It wasn’t his fault. And then the thought came to me that maybe he hated himself, just like everyone else hated him. And then I thought of everything he heard everyday, every time he heard the term gay, he must have taken it a little bit personally, like there was a disorder, like there was something wrong with him. Was there? Yes, there was. But the fact was, it wasn’t even his fault. I felt bad for him, almost, a little bit of pity. And I didn’t know if that pity was enough to be able to fuel me through a day with Tyson, through a day of having to hang out with him and sit next to him and all that.
But I kept thinking about it. Every time I heard someone say, “Oh my God, that is so gay,” I thought of Tyson. I thought of how he might have been hearing the same thing over on the other side of the school, and how he might have felt that he was so gay, that he was so gay, and that it was a bad thing. He needed to know it wasn’t his fault that he was gay. Did he know, did he realize already? Did he know that he was secretly hated by everyone, even though no one except for him and me actually knew they hated him. Was this how black people felt during those times? Was it different, or were we really doing to same thing?
No, gayness must have been different from being black. Black is on the outside, gayness is inside, so there must be a difference. While black people are exactly the same as white people, gay people are way different from straight people. But what’s wrong with their difference? Everything. It’s unnatural, it’s scary. Any one of them could just come up to us and hump us, and we wouldn’t want them to. It’s just like a horrible virus that comes and infects everybody. I so badly wished that Tyson wasn’t gay, that we could have gone on with our lives normally and that he didn’t have to endure his disease, and that I didn’t have to endure his disease. And I wished that I didn’t have to avoid him and make him feel guilty, and I wished that we could be all back to normal, but it was just so awkward and uncomfortable. I started to shake a little every time I was around him, like I was sick with a fever. And, in truth, it was a horrible disease, both homosexuality and my homophobia, in combination. Was this actually going to prevent us from being friends? Maybe not, if we could keep it together for long enough, but it was definitely enough to scar our friendship. I couldn’t see us going out on a motorboat during the summer anymore, or hanging out at the library after school, and then going to the blacktop at the elementary school to play a little basketball. I couldn’t see that anymore, I could only imagine Tyson, just walking through the streets, with a big sign on him that said “GAY” in big red letters. And I could imagine people gawking and staring at him, and I could imagine me being embarrassed that I was even beside him. I needed to just get away, I needed to escape from it all, but I didn’t know how. How was I going to escape from my best friend, was I supposed to, even? So many thoughts were running through my head, and then that stupid lunch bell rang after 3rd period. I was extremely nervous, and I couldn’t help thinking that I would have to spend all that time with Tyson, that horrible hour from lunch until the end of homeroom. I sat there and thought why am I dreading this? Because he’s gay? I’m probably with gay people all the time. But that’s what my heart thought, not my mind. My mind knew, my mind knew that something was going on, that I shouldn’t have hung out with him. My mind also happened to know that Kara wasn’t in love with me, so I was sticking with that decision for quite a while.
During lunch, I sat kind of diagonal to Tyson, farther away, and Ally immediately noticed this when I sat down. “Aren’t you going to sit next to Tyson?” she asked, and, as I took out a wrapped turkey sandwich, I shook my head.
“I feel kind of sick, and I wouldn’t want to get anyone infected or anything, so I’m just going to stay over here, if you don’t mind. I told Kara first period, so she probably won’t sit down next to me anyway,” I said, and I knew that Kara wouldn’t sit down next to me, because she always sat down to the other side of Tyson. Indeed she did, unknowingly taking the seat next to the gay person. I sighed, winced, whatever you would like to call it. I couldn’t stand it, not one bit. It was so hard, and I barely talked that whole lunch. It was all I could do to even look at Tyson, and he really did a good job at hiding his guilt, acting like his normal self. Ally scooted her chair over after Tyson and Kara went outside, and she leaned over. “What’s going on?” she asked, “I know something’s going on. Did you and Tyson have a fight yesterday? You didn’t talk at all, and Tyson didn’t address you very much when he was talking anyway. It was almost like he excluded you and you let yourself be excluded, or something like that.”
I had to admit, Ally was pretty fast to have picked up on the fact that there was tension, unless it was really obvious. I sighed and shook my head. “No, I really just feel sick today, and Tyson, being the caring person he is,” after this, I kind of shook my head a little, worried that I was even having to fake compliment him, “probably didn’t want me to waste my voice or something along those lines.”
“Okay, but I’m not buying it. Look. I know that you and Tyson had one of those friend fights yesterday, or whatever, I’m not stupid. I can see the tension between you two. But you’re going to have to resolve it sooner or later. Either way, I don’t really care how you do it, but you’ve got to do it soon. You guys are hiding something from us, so be it, but it’s your responsibility to heal everything that has been bruised between you two. Am I understood?”
Ally was really smart. She knew something happened, and, even though she didn’t know the full details, she was still able to give some pretty good advice. I nodded in understanding, because she was right. I was going to have to resolve things sooner or later. It all depends on what the resolution is. If I wasn’t going to be friends with him, I wasn’t going to be friends with him. There was nothing I could do about him being gay, but there was something I could do about me being friends with a gay person. So there it was, standing in front of me, all my decision. It all depended on what I valued more: my friendship with Tyson, almost lifelong friends, or my moral values on the topic of gay people. Once I had that sorted out, then I would be able to make my final decision and ultimately choose my and Tyson’s fate, and the fate of our friendship.
The day ended (thankfully for me, I was getting really nervous and clammy every time I was around Tyson and a little more every time I was around Kara), and I got onto the bus. Ally was looking at me in that kind of “you better get it over with” look Tyson was giving me when I was having problems with Ally, but I kind of ignored it, instead sitting down in the seat in front of her. She looked a little distraught too. She knew we were hiding something, and I thought it seemed important to her to know what it was that we were hiding. I might have been having an Ally/Tyson moment, but for once I actually knew what she was thinking. I actually knew what someone was thinking other than myself, a pretty big first for me. I was impressed.
“So, what’s this all about?” she asked, catching on about the secret fairly quickly. I sighed, knowing that there was no way I could tell her. It would ruin everything between her and Tyson, and I didn’t want that to happen to them. After all, my friendship was already ruin, so why ruin another one? Why make Tyson suffer even more in his gay state? Why would I be so cruel to tell Ally. In fact I was saving her by not telling her, instead of keeping her in the dark, I was keeping her in the sunshine, the light of freedom and not having the burden of the secret laid down on her.
“I can’t really talk about it right now. I will take your advice though, I’ll make sure to resolve this whole thing between us. Try not to worry about it, okay? We’ve got it under control.” I tried my best to shrug her off, considering she couldn’t know, and she probably didn’t want to know either. I thought about Tyson again, how I was so shocked and barraged with questions once I found out. Why? How? How could I have not known? Ally was probably thinking the same thing, or she would be, if she knew. I was so sad that I was keeping everyone away from me, almost pushing them away, on purpose or something. This whole secret was giving my gigantic problems. By pushing Tyson away, I had to push Kara away and I had to push Ally away, and there was no stinking thing I could do about it. I had to really shove them away in order to shove myself away from Tyson, and they weren’t liking it and I wasn’t liking it, and I’m pretty sure that Tyson wasn’t liking it, but what exactly was I supposed to do?
And then, of course, there was Redhead. He walked onto the bus, kind of happy in a way. It wasn’t that I know better than you happy, it was actually pretty happy. He seemed almost sprightly, compared to his normal self, like he had everything under control or something had gone really well for him. Dave followed, and I winced, remembering the pain, and then consequently remembering that he was the spawn of all the problems, the one that Tyson liked. And I hated him the most. I almost hated him more than Redhead, because he was all the problems. He was the reason I couldn’t show Redhead that he couldn’t just push us around, and he was the reason that Tyson was all mad-love and gay and all that, and he was the reason for everything bad that had happened for the whole year. And I still saw that sorry gleam in his eye, but I chose to ignore it, because that was just the way he was, the eye he had, and whatever it was. He couldn’t possibly be sorry enough for me to forgive him for all that he’d done. I scowled at him, and he seemed a bit confused, definitely more sad than Redhead was. “Hey, guess what I heard about today?” Redhead asked. “Guess what I heard about?”
I didn’t feel like listening to the crap-voiced 7th grader, so I kind of shrugged him off, going back into my pensive silence, the one that had become associated to me now that I was in it so often. Ally was definitely worried that this whatever it was, it was about me, so she kept her ears open.
“I heard that gay marriage is going to be outlawed, or something like that. Or maybe it already happened. But either way, whatever, gay people can’t get married. And you know what that means, James? You can’t get married. Aw, isn’t that sad?” He was really happy, but I wasn’t so sure it was about this. Still, I stopped and thought about the fact that everyone did hate gay people, didn’t they? And so why should I be any different? Gay people were hated, and, although I didn’t know exactly why, I knew why, and I knew I did too. And, although I didn’t respond, I knew, my heart was whooping and cheering, because gay people were suffering. And then I thought about Tyson, and my eyes sank, because I knew how hard his life would be. Why, why did he have to be gay? What made him that way? Everyone was suffering because of it. I was, Ally was, Kara was.
But Tyson was most of all. |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 14, 2007 21:39:39 GMT -5
Chapter Fourteen! WHOOT! Dear Tyson,
I am sorry to inform you that there has been a slight change of my plans. You see, my grade has been slowly declining in math class, and I need extra help there so I can pass the tests that will be given shortly. I have to inform you in a letter, because, for this reason, I will be missing the lunch and homeroom periods, thus not seeing you for the whole day, except for the occasional meeting in the hall. I will not be seeing you for a time length stretching from two weeks to a month. I am sorry I was unable to work anything else out with my math teacher, because she is very busy at home (having a one-year-old baby to take care of), and can’t get here very early in the mornings. I hope to get better at math soon, that I can return to my normal schedule and be with you, Ally, and Kara more often. Please tell Ally and Kara the news, so they are not surprised when lunch comes. Thank you.
Kindly,
James.
It was the only way. I swear it was. How else was I going to get Tyson to believe that I wasn’t going to sit with him anymore? How else was I going to disguise my switch to the other cafeteria, and avoid homeroom?
As my dad always used to say: a day of discomfort is better than a season of suffering. Which basically means that I wouldn’t suffer nearly as much if I only had to endure a day with Tyson, rather than the whole rest of the year. And I didn’t want to spend the rest of the year with him. Who knows? If Ally had a crush on me, then what about Tyson? What was going to happen to him? After all, studies show that people are more likely to gain crushes on people they spend the more time with. So, how was I going to avoid Tyson crushing on me? Spending less time with him. And how the heck was I going to pull that off? I didn’t really know, so I came up with the grand excuse of all grand excuses: math help. Considering he didn’t have the same teacher as me, he wouldn’t be going in there for anything. So, there you have it. I wasn’t spending any time with Tyson, other than maybe that little time we had in passing, and even then there were some good ways to avoid him. So then he wouldn’t get a crush on me, I wouldn’t be accused of hanging out and being friends with a homo, and he would innocently suspect that I sincerely had no time.
I know it seems like it’s evil, but what if you had a friend who was gay? Huh? What would you do? Same thing as me?
I thought so.
“James? James, can we talk for a little bit?”
It was during Science, the class that I actually happened to enjoy, and one of the only classes in which Ally could really talk to me. We were pre-labbing something, which meant that it was okay to whisper, because we didn’t really need to pay attention.
“What’s up?” I asked a bit absentmindedly.
“I know something’s going on between you and Tyson, and I think, as your friend, I ought to know what it is. Please, just let me in on it.” She seemed kind of worried, like this thing we were hiding from her was going to kill her, or something, which it wasn’t. And I remembered when I found out, and I went home and thought it over. I vowed never to tell anyone and ruin their lives too, even though our lives were basically destined for the worst. But if I told her, she would be asking the same questions. Why did he have to be gay? Why my friend? Poor Tyson, stuck with the horrible infection of homosexuality. I kind of felt bad for him, but I still had to avoid him. Like, remember when you were younger, and the opposite gender had cooties? Well it was the same thing, except with Tyson, he had…gay cooties. I guess. I think. I didn’t know, but I didn’t need to put a load of stress on Ally’s back. She probably had enough on her mind.
“No, I really can’t tell you. You wouldn’t…want to know, anyway,” I shrugged her off. Something told me that she wanted to figure it out, was trying to figure it out, but I had to lead her off track somehow. Ally was one to follow the clues, so if I dropped a few fake hints, she would be sure, as the sleuth she was, to follow them, eventually leading to the wrong conclusion. Then, if she figured “the secret” out, I would tell her not to tell Tyson, and then it would be done.
“No, this is a serious problem. Anyone with eyes can really see that you two are having trouble with something. Is it a fight you two had? Are you embarrassed to say because you cried or something. Is there some macho pride that you always have to deal with? Integrity? What is it?” She was almost interrogating me, like those police with those bright white lights that shined down on you, hammering in the questions so fast that you could barely formulate one answer until you reached the next, and so on and so on. It kind of crept me out, considering she was constantly barraging me with questions on infinity, never ending, a streak that would just go on and on until my head spun so much that I finally let go. But I wouldn’t let go. I promised myself and homo that I wouldn’t let go, so I at least had to keep that much of the end of the bargain. Telling her would create more problems for everyone, and she would make us talk about it, make me sit in a room with Tyson for like two hours and sort things out. I could never sort it out. I knew what I knew. I knew that everyone hated gay people, that I hated gay people. But I didn’t hate Tyson, I knew deep down that I didn’t hate Tyson. I never hated Tyson, never had before he told me, and how had he changed? He’d always been gay, even before I knew him, when he was born. And so what was I supposed to do about it? What was I to interfere with his sexual orientation? And yet, just the thought of hanging out with him, being in the same room and talking to him in a friendly manner, a conversational tone, it made me sick, white pale, almost made me throw up. And she could ruin my plan, my switch cafeteria go to some other teacher for help during homeroom plan. She would see right through it if I even let her on the right track. You know what I was going to tell her? I was going to tell her that we had a stupid fight, and that we didn’t want to talk about it with others. It was about flowers. How great flowers were, and how I insulted his garden, saying why should boys be gardening while they could be out playing sports, and that he said that boys shouldn’t be stereotyped by that, especially by their own kind, and we just started fighting about the morality values of a hobby. And that was that, we’d had a dispute, we would settle it in time, try to stay out of it and don’t tell Tyson I told you because he would get really mad and that would never solve anything.
“I don’t know, we just had a fight a few days ago, that’s all. We really don’t want to talk about it, nothing major, just a little fight.” Good, ease into it, tell her what the basis was so she could hard-press on until she found the answer she was looking for. Play dumb, play the psychological dummy. Play that criminal that the police are able to totally play out, give her the answer, the gold she’s digging deep down to find. Make her satisfied.
“A fight? About?”
“Stuff. Stuff that we don’t want to talk about.” Ah, stuff that we don’t want to talk about, good, keep it general at first. She’ll want to rip that general apart.
“Macho stuff?”
Ease her into it. Play it around the edges. “Maybe macho stuff. A little, kind of, that’s kind of what it was about, but not really that much about macho stuff. You know, just what macho stuff is, just a little is in everything I do, you know, just a little macho stuff, and there’s none of it in him.” Yes, get mad, start feeling that fake seething rage about that argument. Have those make-believe flashbacks, fill yourself with that imaginary rage that’s just what she’s looking for.
“Macho stuff. You guys always argue about macho stuff. What is macho stuff, James? Tell me what it is, please.” Yes, she followed that scent like a bloodhound looking for a druggie.
“When did I say the stupid argument was about macho stuff? Did I ever say the argument was about macho stuff? Because, if I did, I don’t remember.” Refuse to comply. Play hard-to-get for now, try and be the least cooperative as possible. Just so she can get that hard-earned satisfaction of coercing out your cooperation.
“Just define macho stuff for me. I never said it was about macho stuff. Just define it, please.”
“Macho stuff, er, I don’t know. Like stuff a boy feels he needs to do. Like, no, stuff that a boy needs, uh, needs to do in order to feel like he has pride or something. Stuff that a man does to feel like a man, or that he needs to do to be a man, or something like that to fall in between.” Reluctant correspondence. Just give her a little longer and she’ll undoubtedly crack the case.
“Okay. So, what were you arguing about?”
“I told you, not macho stuff—”
“I know you said not macho stuff. I’m not stupid. Okay? I just want to know what you were arguing about.” There, become more aggressive Ally, it will only help. Be aggressive and solve the case. Think outside the box.
“Fine. We were arguing about…he won’t want me to say this…we were arguing about flowers.” Ha! She just got me to admit it! What a fool I am! She just cracked my case like a nut and there was nothing to it! Absolutely nothing to it! What am I, a fool for her to figure me out that fast? Something like that…
“Flowers?”
“Well, he likes gardening and I asked him why he wasn’t playing sports or video games or something, and he wanted to garden, and I told him that men didn’t garden, and we got into this whole argument about, you know, what boys are supposed to do in their free time. And I know, as well as most people in the world who aren’t stupid like Tyson know, that boys don’t hackin’ garden in their spare time. They play football and they play Madden and they play lacrosse, and stuff along that kind of lineage, but they do not pull freakin’ weeds out of freakin’ gardens on 55 degree days in January.” Oh, cracked! I cracked! How could I have cracked under all that pressure after I vowed not to? Wow, I probably had her fifty times fooled. “Just don’t tell Tyson I told you, okay? We’ll resolve this on our own. If you tell him I blurted, he’ll get all mad at me and nothing will ever get solved. Don’t worry about it Ally, we’ll get over it like we always seem to do.”
Moving on.
During 7th period English, I was thinking about Kara. I had gotten back to thinking about her after kind of talking to her in the hall, and sighed. I mean, she was together with Redhead and all that, and that was really surprising me. Redhead was the one bullying me, but I couldn’t tell her, because that would be ruining her relationship with him. And yet, he was the one I really hated, the one that made me angry whenever he got up and touched me, or threw something at me. And I had a crush on Kara, who fell for that evil person, that mean person. How? Was he acting, or something, maybe he had a spell that he cast? I was wondering how the hell that even happened, anyway.
Then my stomach rumbled, and I realized how much I needed to go to the bathroom. The grumble was so loud that the whole class heard, laughter following soon after, and our teacher let me go and do my business. I kindly thanked her and walked out into the hall.
The English room was right across from one of the bathrooms, but that one was really gross. I preferred the one all the way down the hall, nearly on the other side of the school, seeing as that one was incredibly clean. Sighing and trying not to think about that long walk that I would have to make, I simply walked down the hallway, looking away from the colored tiles, just down at the floor. As I was passing the 7th grade lunch, I realized that Redhead was in there somewhere, and I walked even faster on. I slowed down after, kind of catching my breath (walking fast while clutching your stomach and trying to hold it in is hard work, you know), and I realized that I heard a strange noise.
Being that curious person I was, I decided to investigate. It sounded very strange, like someone was eating something outside the cafeteria, but had snuck out just to do so. I felt like it was a secret they were hiding, so I tiptoed, and realized that whatever was going on, it was going on in the Mole’s Hideout. So, because it was kind of low and indented in the ground, I would be able to peer in, probably without being seen as long as no one was looking straight at me.
Silently, I crept down the hallway, trying my best to ignore that horrible feeling in my stomach, and hoping that it wouldn’t rumble and give away my position. It was more intense than I thought, that sound, and if someone was eating, they were enjoying it a lot, because they were really, I don’t know, just involved. It was so intense I can’t even describe it.
Whoever was making the noise stopped.
I thought that they noticed me, so I stopped as well, hoping to be as silent and innocent-looking as possible (if they climbed out and saw me, I wanted to look like I was going to the bathroom, of course). I waited for about ten seconds, in which there was total silence, and it scared me to death. I felt almost cornered, like I couldn’t move, and I was trapped in my own adventure, unable to escape.
Then the noise started again, just as hardcore and intense as before.
I tiptoed the few feet I had to tiptoe. The pressure of the action was palpable, like it somehow crept around the corner and reached me, jolting my body awake. It was so unbearable, the wait and precaution that I had to take, that I just couldn’t stand it. I wanted to know what was going on in the Mole’s Hideout! Why couldn’t I just rush over and look? Why did I have to wait, to take it slow? Didn’t God know that I was an impatient person?
Finally, I was close enough to peer over and look. I was almost scared to, thinking they would catch me or something, and I would get in a lot of trouble. Or maybe the sight was disturbing, like it was some sort of ritual that I didn’t want to see, or something like that. I didn’t know, but whatever it was, it was rich and juicy, and I would never live myself down if I didn’t just peek over and see what it was. So I took a deep but silent breath, readied myself, and slowly peeked my head over the corner of the wall.
It was Redhead and another girl making out. |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 14, 2007 23:16:09 GMT -5
5k more, Sam! YOU CAN DO IT!
|
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 15, 2007 21:49:53 GMT -5
Thank Echo! I'm now only 2k away. I'll finish up tomorrow! Chapter Fifteen, everyone! I didn’t say a word. I knew I couldn’t say a word yet. I didn’t know why, but I thought telling Kara about anything would create more problems, and more problems would create more stress. I didn’t know if she would even believe me, so I just decided to take what I had at the moment and deal with that first, instead of simply tackling all of the problems head on at once. However, I knew that if I waited too long and didn’t tell Kara, she could find out on her own, causing more and more stress. It was all so confusing, and I just decided to wait until I felt that the time was right.
The toughest part was getting on the bus. I thought of Redhead as more of a sleaze now, someone who was just the worst in the world. He was taking my crush and playing with her feelings, having multiple girlfriends, that two-timer. And it only made my seething rage more justifiable. I knew he was a bad person, disloyal and undecided. If only I could tell him off, but I couldn’t. You probably don’t understand. As her friend I wanted to tell her, but in our situation, I thought it was best that she didn’t know. Because the less she knew about anything the better. I still had the stress of dealing with Tyson’s secret, and now I had Redhead’s secret in my belt, blackmail, but I couldn’t tell anyone either. And the pressure was really weighing down. I could feel it in my head, just totally bogging it down with flying thoughts, and I was unable to do anything, helpless, watching from that glass window. And with each day it grew harder to look at Tyson. And with each minute it grew harder to look at Kara, that innocent face that sat next to me in social studies class. And I just didn’t know what to do.
“Ah, hello oh mighty gay-lord,” Redhead greeted me as he climbed on the bus, flipping his hair back. Now I knew why he felt like the king of the world. He had mastered the art of girls, picking them up and making them his girlfriend. He knew what it was like to have more than one waiting on his feet, just doing whatever he wanted, under his spell. It made me absolutely sick, tongue-tied, and my stomach twisted in knots. I didn’t know how long he’d kept this up, but I knew that it wasn’t a good thing that he was doing, something that was going to hurt him in the long run. And he was going to find out the hard way, I knew he was, and someone would figure it out and slap him in the face, and he would finally jolt awake from that mean spell. But I would have to wait under that smiling face, that know-all face, that everything is under my control including the world which encompasses you smile.
“Shut up. Don’t touch me, either, because I’m tired of it. Don’t you already have enough people touching you at the moment?” I shot back. But I couldn’t let the secret slip. Of course, I could blackmail him, technically, I could threaten to tell Kara if he did anything bad to me, but I never would. He wouldn’t test me. And then, he would figure it out. He would figure out that if I actually knew that fact, I would tell her right away, and that I was either too chicken or not going to tell her for other reasons unknown to him, or that I didn’t know at all. I scowled, un able to do anything except watch him trying to figure out what it meant, what it all meant, and I could only sit back and relax as he took advantage of my crush, my best friend-crush. I couldn’t do anything. NOTHING. Why couldn’t I? Why didn’t God give justice to those nice ones? What did I ever do? I never did anything mean to anyone, except for maybe a little sarcasm here and there. I never was really disliking someone, really ever. And I never practiced sin. No stealing, no hurting, no…lying…
But I was lying.
I was lying to myself. I was lying about the fact that Tyson was still my friend. We’d drifted too far apart to be considered friends. I mean, I hadn’t seen him for a really long time. For a week, or maybe even more. And it would keep going on and on. And I hated him, I hated him and all gay people. It was a prejudice, right? But didn’t God forgive those who righteously prejudiced someone? I mean, he himself was prejudiced against gay people, he said it in the Bible. Why did he create them? Out of sin. Gay people were sinners, and they had to change their ways. Gay people were scum, nothing but scum. And yet, I knew, I knew that Tyson wasn’t scum. He was a nice person, he wasn’t scum. He was my friend, before that stupid secret got out. He was my friend, I liked him, he had good qualities. So how did that make him a sinner?
“Gaylord, are you going to answer me or what? Or are you finally coming out of the closet?” I looked up from my trance to see Redhead (oh, what a lovely surprise) waiting for an answer, which I wasn’t really willing to give him anyway. I didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore. I just wanted to float away in my little bubble and think about things, instead of being constantly harassed by friends and former friends, and pestered by family. I just wanted to take one day, one stupid day, and meditate, think things through, come to decisions. What was gay? What was religion in all this? What was my position anyway? Some part of me just knew I was wrong about the whole gay thing, that gay people really weren’t that bad, because Tyson wasn’t that bad. But then, religion, it said that I had to hate gay people. Who made the bible, anyway? Was it God, or was it the people under God? Was God even real? And then, there was the most important question of all, the one that really needed to be answered or I would go insane.
What is love?
Love, I thought I knew what love was, twice, that I had total control over it. There was one thing I did know about love, though, something that pertained to everyone and everyone.
Love was never under anyone’s control.
I still wasn’t answering Redhead’s taunting calls (personally, I considered myself in a little bubble on the bus, unable to concentrate on the world around me), when he went out and punched me. I still ignored him. Love, the infatuation. No, it wasn’t infatuation all the time. I know it didn’t sound macho, it sounded gay, but I loved my friends. I loved them in a different way, not that kind of heart-pumping love, but instead a whole loyal love, a kind of love that only friends can give you.
“James! Gay-lord! You idiot, answer me!” he bellowed, and then he got all up in my face. He wasn’t touching me or anything, but it was pretty darn close. His eyes stared into mine with that horrible icy glare, the one that kind of freaked me out and wondered how God could give anyone such deep, blue eyes. Is that why Kara fell in love with him? His eyes? I didn’t know, but those eyes, they were, I can’t explain it, so…natural.
“I’m not gay. Get out of my face.” It was more a sigh than a command, because, as I have said before, I never took his taunts literally, seriously. There was no way I could anymore. He was a 7th grader who had more than I could ever dream of at my level. Two girlfriends, who would probably never know about the other one, complete control of bus #11, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had good grades. It was like this whole thing, this whole thing where I was wondering how God could give such an evil person so many perks and still live with it. God seemed to be the problem, that is, considering the fact that he was existent: why was he doing all this? Why was he making gay people, more by the year? Why were the bad, greedy people of the world getting all of the good things in life, that horrible satisfaction? And why was I, just a normal kid, getting stuck in the middle of all of this horrible turmoil, the growing world around me growing in a wrong direction. Why wasn’t God protecting us? Punishing the sinners? Was God even…God even…I don’t know if I could admit it to myself, but I constantly asked myself, was God even real?
“I don’t know, gay freaking gay James. You’re pretty gay, I mean, uh, if you ask me, like you’re maybe 17 on the gay scale out of 10. And don’t get me started on your friends. Why the hell is Kara even your friend anyway? She’s a badass girl, she’s hot, and she is not gay, like you and your friends are. Ally? Yeah, she’s not gay, but she wishes she were gay. And then Tyson, he’s like the biggest freaking gay-lord of them all, other than you, James, of course, because how do you get so freaking gay? Isn’t it obvious? Isn’t it obvious? The only reason you would hang out with him is because he’s gay, because you’re both gay-lords. And what about your mommy? I bet you don’t have one. I bet you that you have two daddies, but you won’t tell anyone, because your daddies are gay. They’re just like you, you family of gay people, you homos. Are you homo? Do your parents know you’re homo? Yeah, and they’re homo. Ha! You’ve got a freaking scoundrel homo family! What the hell is up with that? What the hell is up with—”
“Shut up.”
We all looked around, not recognizing the voice that dared interrupt the oh great almighty Redhead, and then I located Dave. He was not staring at the wall. He was actually…standing up.
He looked around. “I’m tired of hearing you insult him. Couldn’t you just…stop for once?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What’s this, an act? Now you’re trying to play me up, so you can find another way to make fun of me? Well, I can see right through you.” It was best to play it safe for now, just try and figure out what the hell was going on. It was quite obvious that something was up, the only question was, what? What the heck was going on? Dave was actually defending me. I knew there was sorrow in his eyes, I knew there was, but I couldn’t put a finger on it. I couldn’t figure it out myself, I couldn’t look over and say, yup, that dude is being forced into it. But now I knew. Redhead was definitely blackmailing that kid like the scoundrel he was, just being the evil person that the evidence showed he was, and I knew that Dave was just itching to turn that fist around, throw it out and hit Redhead square in the jaw, just to have that satisfaction, that amazing satisfaction, that comes when the good triumphs over the evil, and those disbanded rogues finally form together and overthrow the corrupt government. I finally knew what was going on, for that flash, for that period of time, that short period of time, I knew there was a secret Dave was holding deep. And I could bet anything, I could bet my heart, that it had to do with love. Because everything had to do with love, because it was under every rock and in every star that shined under the blackened sky. It was there, on bus #11, even in that tension there was love, and there was nothing any of us powerless humans could do about it. You can take away happiness, hope, healing, life, but you can never take away love.
Redhead shut up, but not before shooting a warning glance at Dave. Redhead was definitely up to something. Blackmailing him. Such a word it is, blackmailing, even sounds evil, but no one can know how dastardly it is. It’s holding someone’s love against them, it is, and that’s the worst thing you can do to a person, torment their soul by holding back their love, making sure it stays pent up in that little cage in the middle of the heart.
That night, at home, I talked to Mom again.
She already knew that I had a crush on Kara (I had talked to her about that too, sometime over Winter Vacation), so when I came to her with something on that topic, she was far from surprised. “Just give me a few minutes,” she said, she always said, “and I’ll come down and talk to you.”
I sat on the couch, waiting, wondering. Was it really a good decision to be keeping secrets? So many I was keeping, I could name three off the top of my head, and so many more lay, unforgiving, in my skin. Tyson was gay. I liked Kara Armond. Redhead was cheating on Kara. So many secrets, and yet no one to trust enough to tell. I could tell Mom about the last two, but the first I was unsure of. It bothered me greatly, ticked me off to have to keep it inside. But it kept repeating, wanting to be let free, wanting to be released into the air in one of those long, drawn-out sighs that we all need to take once in a while. It wanted to be free, free as a secret can be, in the world, to the world, for the world. “James, what’s up? What is it that you want to talk about?” she asked as she came downstairs, drying off her hands with a paper towel. I sighed, knowing that I would have to tell her everything eventually, but maybe not Tyson until her death bed. And then, I thought, what was her standpoint on homosexuality? I would ask her. I would definitely ask her.
“I have two things I want to talk about, both kind of, I don’t know, morality questions,” I informed her, slapping a part of the couch and motioning for her to sit down. “First one, right off the bat: Kara. I like her, and I found out that her boyfriend was cheating on her. So, should I tell her?”
Mom sat down and sighed. This was not a relieving sigh, more of a worried sigh. “Wait, her boyfriend is cheating on her? Did you hear this in a rumor, or something like that?”
“No, I actually saw him making out with another girl. In this little space near…well, it doesn’t matter where, but I did. And I know you don’t believe me, because you never do, but it’s the truth. And even if it isn’t, treat it as a hypothetical truth: should I tell her?”
“Well of course you should, as your friend and as your loved one. Actually, consider this for me. Would you rather tell her…no, let me rephrase. Do you think that she would be more hurt if you told her than if she found out herself?”
“I think that she would be less hurt if I told her, because it’s always worse if you actually find out yourself.” I nodded, knowing where this one was going. It was time to listen to one of Mom’s answers and then go for the bigger question. The bigger question that made me worry a lot more.
“Tell her.”
Next question.
“I know this is going to sound a little weird coming from me, seeing as, you know, I haven’t really thought about it much, but, what’s your standpoint on gay people? Do you like them or not?” I was kind of nervous in asking her, because I knew the immediate follow-up question, that she would be suspicious right away. I would just have to hope that she believed the answer.
She did one of those worry sighs again, and then she asked, “James, do you have an inclination to believe that you’re gay?”
“No.” I answered it very formally, just like I was supposed to.
“Here’s what I think. I think that most people think about it like this. If we compare people by their insides and not their outsides, or, rather, we should only differentiate by the inside instead of the outside, gay people are okay to single out because it is their inside instead of their outside that is different. However, by inside, we do not mean sexual orientation, we simply mean personality. I have known some very nice gay people, I’ve worked with them, been friends with them, and some gay people aren’t so nice. Simply put, I don’t judge people by who they like, I judge people by how they act.”
I knew it. I knew she was going to be one of those liberals that believes in gay freedom. I wanted her to affirm my feelings, my thoughts that gay people weren’t right, but instead she just went right out and contradicted me. Why, why was I wrong? How? I didn’t know, but I was going to have to seriously think this one through.
Except one thing was certain. I was going to tell Kara.
The first thing that day, I was going to tell Kara.
1st period social studies, she walked in, and I immediately got her attention. “Kara, Kara, I need to talk to you about something, okay? It’s something really important, that I think you’re going to want to know.” I sighed deeply as she sat down. I hoped she wasn’t going to cry or anything, that she was going to be angry more than anything. I just didn’t want to break her heart.
“Good morning to you too, James. Slow down a bit, okay?” She seemed pretty happy, and I felt so bad to have to dampen her mood, but I had to. It was for the well-being of her heart.
“Listen, I know this is going to sound weird coming from me, but Red—Dan is cheating on you.”
Silence.
“How do you know?” Then comes disbelief.
“I saw him and another girl making out in the Mole’s Hideout. I know it sounds weird coming from me, trust me, and I wish he wasn’t, I really wish he wasn’t, because I know how much he means to you, but I felt I had to tell you. I’m really sorry. I really am.”
“Liar.”
“And I know that this ruins everything and—what?”
“Liar.” She seemed to have new fire in her eyes. “Liar. I know you hate him, but he’s a nice guy, and nothing you do can ever change the good he has in him. I know you’re lying, that you want me to break up with him. Do you think I’m stupid, that I would fall for that kind of ruse? I thought you were my friend, James, I thought you would stick by me, but you would ruin my relationship for the sake of getting back at him for that silly game you two are playing with each other? Well don’t consider me your friend anymore, because until these heartless lies stop, you can kiss me goodbye.” She got up and changed seats in a huff, and I sighed again. I knew, I knew from the beginning that I was going to tell her, and I knew from the beginning that she wouldn’t believe me.
It was only a matter of time. |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 18, 2007 13:32:20 GMT -5
5k, finally, YAY! Chapter Sixteen is done, the longest one yet. Just when I thought things were bad, and I didn’t think they could possibly get worse, considering Tyson was gay, Kara was mad at me for accusing her boyfriend of cheating, and Redhead was just about on top of the world, guess what happened?
They got worse.
On the bus, I managed to snag Ally for a couple minutes before Redhead climbed on and terrorized us, like normal. “What’s up, you look a little down,” I pointed out, noticing her slanting eyes. I hadn’t really been paying much attention to most things that day, my friends’ feelings included, because there was so much to think about. It was like a blur, fog, and totally different thoughts flying around combined, if that makes any sense. Basically, it was like the day was passing, but I was on my own, or something. There were people around me, there were always people around me, but I was lost in a maze of my own thoughts, hopes, wishes, dreams, nightmares, fears, and ultimate predictions. I was aimlessly wandering around all day inwardly, while trying (but horribly failing) at concentrating on the day outwardly. In other words, what came out of the whole situation was a huge mess in which I couldn’t concentrate. Ally didn’t look so good at the end of the day while we were in the hall, like she was lost in thought too, or something, and I decided to break from the maze for a little and talk to her on the bus.
“I’ve been thinking. A lot.” She didn’t seem happy at all, because there was that little silver, or black, however you imagine it, tone coming from her voice, just seeping out like a crawling poison. She was mad, angry, irate, whatever it was, and I knew it was at me. I just knew, because when someone’s mad, you can always tell if it’s at you or someone else. It’s just like that, that instinct that humans have built into themselves, that anger detector. If Kara was mad at me, and I was avoiding Tyson, and Redhead had basically total control over my world at the moment, I did not need Ally to be mad at me. The last thing I needed was Ally to be mad at me. The absolute last thing. But, if everyone else was mad at me, why couldn’t Ally be? It made sense to me. Everything was going wrong, and, if everything was going wrong, Ally had to be mad at me.
“About what?” I asked cautiously, worried, very worried, about what her answer would be. It was going to be either about the broken friendship between Tyson and I, or the newly formed cracks in the friendship of Kara and I. I gulped.
“About you and Tyson. Tyson has a secret, I think you guys were talking about and all, and you guys won’t tell me what it is. I think the secret has brought you apart, and I told you to talk about it, but you won’t. Basically, because, either you can’t accept Tyson’s secret, or Tyson is desperately trying to avoid you because he told you the secret. But I think it’s the former, all because of this,” as she said this, she held up the note that I left in Tyson’s locker, telling him that I would not be able to be at his lunch thanks to math holding me up. “If I’m not mistaken,” Ally said, folding her arms and staring me down pretty harshly, “your math grade is, at the moment, an A-. Considering, I took a look at the progress reports the teacher conveniently posted on the wall, and using your information for reference, considering you’ve showed me your grade and number before, I discerned this fact. In other words, you and Tyson are fighting over the secret, or you are unable to accept it. Now, I think you guys need to talk about this one, otherwise, everyone’s going to be in deep, deep trouble.”
This was Ally’s serious mode. She was talking business, strict and major business. I did a half gulp, knowing how ugly this could possibly turn out, but I kept my cool, looking her back in the eye. I wasn’t about to back down from my opinion. I knew what I knew, and no matter what my mom said, what Ally said, what Tyson said, I was sticking with it. Gay people were bad. Gay people did molest people, did crazy things, liked people of their own gender. But Tyson was a good person, wasn’t he? He was a good person, and yet he was gay. It was almost an oxymoron, in retrospect. I mean, gay people couldn’t possibly be good. Could they?
“I can’t. Listen, the secret, the secret is insanely…well, it was meant to be kept secret. And, really, as I say this, I’m not going to back down on my opinion. It’s not the secret that’s really holding us down. It’s more of, it’s more of, it’s more of our opinions on the secret, the way everything is. Listen, Ally, love is a complicated thing, and the fact is, I can’t deal with this right now. I need to be away from Tyson for a long time, and there’s nothing anyone can do about this.” I was really hoping Ally would just back off and let me have my way, but there was absolutely no way that was going to happen. With Ally, if she wanted something she wanted something, and she wasn’t going to give up because someone just told her to back off. She was going to ruthlessly attack her pray, constantly, each one worse than the previous, and I was going to have to defend myself against the barrage of persuasions, the volley of arguments that was about to come my way.
“No. You know what? We can totally solve this. If you told me the secret, I could kind of resolve things, be the referee. We can put things back to normal, James, if you just let us. You know that, I know that, Tyson knows that. We’re not going to give up just because of this reluctance to accept something. Are you in denial? Is that it? If you just told me the stupid secret, none of this would be happening.” Immediately she tried to close in on me, but it didn’t matter. There was no way I was giving her any information. I was going to safeguard it until there was no safeguarding left in me.
“I can’t. I can’t tell you.” I looked down, sad that I was keeping yet another secret. It became worse with everyday, I’m telling you, that guilt just rising and rising in my heart. It was like I was lying to everyone around me, like I couldn’t trust anyone with knowledge. The fact was, Tyson couldn’t trust me with the information, and that meant that I couldn’t trust anyone with it in turn. Either way, it was absolutely horrible. It was like the worst thing that could happen, like I was losing trust in everyone. It was like my friends were becoming these people I was just supposed to lie to. It was so hard to deal with, and maybe I should have told them, but it would have made things more complicated. For the worse or the better I will never know.
“You guys are hiding it from me. It’s like you both decided, ‘Oh, we’ll torture everyone by fighting, and not telling anyone what the fight is even about.’”
I smiled a little bit. What we was she even talking about? There was no we in Tyson and I. We were totally separated, not friends but just normal people in the same school. There was no more we, no more unity, we were gone, into space. It wasn’t the four of us, it was the three of us, soon to be two, or maybe even one of us. It surprised me how much one little thing could change everything. Tyson, he wasn’t changing the world, but he was changing my world. He was turning it around, upside-down. But it wasn’t even his fault. He was totally bogged down with this new development. There was no way he brought it upon himself; Tyson was one of the nicest and most clever people I knew, so what happened? Why was it the way it was? Why was there no more we, guarding our friendship with the utmost tenacity? Why was there no more we, just having a good laugh and giving each other well-intentioned hi-fives? What happened to that time, that blissful time, when we could just be with each other openly, no secrets, just having a good old time, doing stuff that we loved doing? What was the point of all this fighting, all this complication? It was there, obvious, manifesting itself in the easiest way. There was no more bond. All that wear and tear that had tested it over the years, it finally caused it to snap. Or maybe the bond was weak, imaginary, never there in the first place, and it only took this event to realize that this fact was true. But something about everything, in the midst of everything, I could still feel that light tug on the tie between us. I knew we were still connected somehow, even after all of that debris that came crashing down on my world, I knew that there was still a bond there. We are tied to different people in different ways, but, even if we don’t know why, we know we are. We know we are tied to those people. Maybe ties of friendship, if they are strong enough, never break. That’s what it felt like between me and Tyson. I knew there was still a bond there, I could just feel it, wrapped around my bones. Entwined into my heart and soul, there it was, that tiny little string, frail as it was, it would never be destroyed, broken, worn down. It would always stay there. I just had to choose to follow it. Maybe there was a we, there was still a connection between us. Maybe we were able to overcome our differences and become friends. We still cared about each other, right? We did! I knew we did, but there was no way we did. I didn’t care about him. Maybe I just needed to get over him and move on, realize that he wasn’t my friend, realize that he was gay and that I had to just move away, walk on, following that road that is my life, the path that I was meant to follow. I was through with trying to pretend there was still hope. There was no more denying it; there was a bond with us, bond between us, it was there and we could blindly follow it. But there was also no denying the fact that it was over. We were no more friends, no amigos, no desperados searching for that gold. We were not a team, we were separated. And all of a sudden, I felt free of one of the burdens. I knew there was no obligation to him anymore, there was no need to worry about hiding anything. I could just forget his existence, I didn’t even have to worry about him anymore. I smiled even wider, and I knew that Ally was there, wondering what exactly there was I was smiling about, but I knew that enough weight had lifted off of me that I could soar into the sky without a care, knowing that I could sprout wings and fly any time now. I knew there was no problem with gay people. I hated them, and that meant I hated Tyson, and there was no reason I should have to worry about anything anymore. I knew I could see the sun rising in the east and really concentrate on enjoying it. There was no more looking over my shoulder, watching all of those problems following me around everywhere, tapping me and reminding me they were there. They weren’t there if I chose them to go away. I didn’t even have to ignore them, because there was no problem to ignore. There was no more lost in the labyrinth, I made it out, because I was gone, I was free from the shackles that had bound me before. And all this I had realized in the five seconds that I smiled, that inconspicuous smile that alighted my face. I was free, and instead of fighting Redhead, I could soar over him, I could soar over the world in any way I chose, simply bypassing all of my worries.
All of this in five seconds.
“James. James, this is nothing to smile about. You have a problem. With Tyson. And, this is just ripping everyone apart. You have a problem we have to solve.” Ally was still exasperated, obviously. I couldn’t really blame her; it was in her nature to be exasperated, but I could really get above everything. I smiled, continually grinning, just being happy. It was the first time I had felt happy in a really long time, and I was going to make sure I cherished it to the best of my ability.
“No. No I don’t. I don’t have a problem I have to solve, no problems with Tyson. It’s not ripping everyone apart. There is no more rip, there is no more tear, and there will be no more despair. I can tell you this with the utmost sincerity, as it is what I believe. I have no problem, because I can watch the sunrise in full concentration, without having to look over my shoulder and worry about everything.” I kept on smiling, kept up that happy air. I could be a bird, fly from my nest, and into the free world, the sky, the only thing that humans are unable to conquer, and I could dance with the wind and play with the clouds, and there was nothing anyone could do. I was the only one able to stop myself.
“You sound like a Broadway play,” Ally commented, but she stopped. There was no convincing me, she knew, so she just laid off.
Broadway play. Something about Broadway plays. Was it in the news? No, that wasn’t it, but something was sparking in my mind about a Broadway play. Something was there, that I needed to remember.
Broadway play.
Tyson.
At the beginning of the year, Tyson was obsessed with Broadway plays. That was back when there was still hope, when we were still friends. And, all of a sudden, my heart started aching, wishing that I could go back. I could go back to that lunch table and munch on food with my two best friends. I could go back and see his face one more time, laughing, those eyes sparkling and just sitting down, lazily, nothing to worry about. And there would be no tension, no pressure, no horribly heavy air between us. There would be no uptight manner, it would be just three, innocent friends, without anything to worry about, with no cares. I didn’t have to be carefree alone, I could be carefree with others, and soaring in the sky is nothing compared to soaring in the sky with two best friends flanking you on either side, ready to catch you when you fall.
Catch you when you fall.
I needed to bring everyone back together.
Too bad it was my bus stop.
Either way, I knew what I had to do. I knew that, the next day, I was going to have to make sure that I got the whole group back together. I knew that it was important because friends are important. They are your support, your very backbone. You must realize the difference between true friends and fake ones. True ones knew that they were always there for you, and you were always there for them. They stuck by you think and thin, and they always would. True friends were the ones you could trust, you could believe in. I wasn’t a true friend, not to Tyson. I wasn’t there for him when he told me his deepest, darkest secret, the one thing that I thought I could handle. I ran away from him, I chose to ruthlessly abandon him, ditch him. I wasn’t being a true friend, because that’s exactly what true friends don’t do. They don’t ditch you, even when they have inward doubts. They trust that everything will mend, and that they can be there for you, no matter what the situations. True friends do not hate gay people if one of them is their friend. They make a new space in their heart and forgive and forget, no matter how hard it is. They do everything they can for that friend, to help them grow into their own. But most importantly, the thing that a true friend always does, without fail, without a second thought, and without another reason separate from friendship, true friends catch you when you fall.
Catch you when you fall.
The next day, I walked into school, determined to heal all of the damage I had done. There were three people who I needed to talk to and repair damages to. There was Kara, there was Ally, there was Tyson, and I knew it was going to be hard, but it didn’t even matter. I had to. If I was a true friend, I had to. And I was. I was determined to be a true friend, because that was my new realization. Friends are important. Even if I knew Redhead was cheating, he wasn’t, if Kara didn’t think so. Even though I knew that Ally wanted to know the secret, I had to protect her. I couldn’t tell her, no matter what she did to try and weasel it out of me. And most of all, I had to accept Tyson, no matter who he was. I wouldn’t care if he was a mass murderer, he would always be my friend. Of course, I would try to convince he stop, but it didn’t matter. He was my friend, I was his, and I knew that that was what friendship was, not what I thought it was. So, now that I had that down, I knew that was my new goal. By the end of the year, we were all going to be friends again. I was going to make sure that we were all going to be friends again.
“Kara!” I called after her during 1st period. I knew she wouldn’t want to talk to me, considering she was all mad at me about the whole cheating thing. Either way, I was going to do whatever I could to become friends with her again. Even if it took a huge lie and admittance to a crime I didn’t commit, I was going to be her friend again. Because I was a true friend, and I was going to do whatever it took to make sure she knew that I was her friend, and that I was only trying to help. “Kara, we need to talk about this whole Redhead thing. I think I’m going to say something that you need to hear, that we both need to hear.”
She tried to shrug me off. She didn’t want to listen to anything I had to say, because, frankly, she was really tired of me, but it didn’t matter. I was determined to get her friendship back. “Kara, you have got to listen to me. I really want to be your friend, so can we just please talk about this? You can’t just ignore me. I really need to talk to you.”
That kind of got her attention, because she turned around. Her golden locks of hair shined a little less, like she’d been losing sleep over everything, and her eyes narrowed when they saw me. She heaved a huge sigh, as if to build up all of the suspense that I was feeling. What was she going to say? We hadn’t talked for a while, and I knew that breaking the ice was going to be awkward, so what was it going to be? Was she still really mad at me for accusing her boyfriend of cheating, even if the accusation was true? I mean, there was nothing I could do about her not believing me; it was only natural. I could tell she was debating about how to start things off, I could tell that there was a little argument going on, right on the top of her two shoulders. Abe and the Devil were at it again. But there she was, breathing, getting ready to tell me something, getting ready to say something. I readied myself for anything, because it could have been anything that she was ready to tell me. It could have been anything from, “I’m sorry,” to “yeah, we do need to talk.” I didn’t know what to expect, but, if anything, even though it was pretty obvious she was going to say it, I wasn’t expecting two words to come out of her mouth. The two words that did.
“Go away.”
Of course. Because why would she want to talk to me? I hadn’t been a good friend lately. I had been purposely trying to destroy my bond with Tyson, and, if anything, that was probably going to make her want to talk to me even less than she actually did. And there she was, staring me down, wondering how I was going to reply, really wanting me to go away. Because, as she rose up into the sky, her wonders, her dreams, I wasn’t there to support her. I wasn’t there to catch her, if it happened that she fell. But I needed to let her know that I was always there for her. I was always going to make sure that she had that little extra weight under her, ready for anything, to protect her and make her feel wanted. Because I was a true friend, flying into the sky. She wasn’t my friend yet, but I felt like hers.
“We need to talk. I just want you to know that…that I’m your friend. I want to support you. And I admit to the fact that I…made the whole…story up about Redhead. Just to try and get you to break up with him. I really, really, I really want to be your friend. So could you accept my apologies and be my friend again? Please?” I tried to sound really sad, well, the fact was, I was really sad, because I didn’t have any friends, and I was desperately trying to regain them. And I hoped out of all hope that she would say yes, and this whole fiasco would be over, and we could look at each other and smile for once.
“No. Dan said not to trust you. He says you’re no good. And, frankly, after everything that’s happened involving you, I’m not going to argue with him. Really. I do not accept your apology, and I will not be your friend.” She turned away again, with a really snobby attitude, but I had broken that mountain of trust that had slowly grown over the year, just tore it down with the flick of my wrist.
Dan. Dan Keppler.
He was ruining a lot of things too. I would have to deal with him as well. So, I decided, everything was going to have to be put on hold for a little bit. Kara could wait, and, I had to support her decision to not be friends with me, even if it wasn’t a decision I would have liked to see her make. I couldn’t be mean to Redhead, as that wouldn’t improve my chances of being friends with Kara, so I decided to be as nice to him as possible, without admitting to anything he accused of me. It was going to be hard, but it didn’t matter.
Still, if Kara was telling him all of the things that were happening in my life, no doubt she was telling him all about the fights I was having. And it was only a matter of time until he brought it up in conversation. That day, as I climbed up onto the bus, I was not surprised to see Redhead waiting patiently at the back of the bus, smiling, as always, like the king of the world. Or maybe just the king of bus #11.
“Hey, James, what’s up with you? Having some…problems, lately?” he asked, snickering. He was snickering. No matter what I thought in my mind, he had total and complete control over me. There was nothing I could do, now that I was depending on myself only to become friends with Kara. There was no doubt that Redhead was going to keep telling Kara bad things about me, even if I started to be subordinate, but it didn’t matter. I was going to have to be nice to him…for her. It was all a matter of true friendship.
“Yes. I have been,” I admitted immediately. Redhead seemed a bit surprised at this, that I had finally realized that there was no hope. But there was hope. The more I listened to him, the more he “beat down” on my soul, the more I knew I was flying upward. I knew that even though I was his servant, even though he was the ruler, the undeserving ruler, I knew that I was finally being a true friend. And it was then, only then, that that guilt was finally lifting off my heart, flying into the air. I was definitely sprouting wings, every time he got me. I knew it. I knew that there was a feather on my back, at least a feather, and it didn’t even matter. It didn’t even matter what everyone said or did, as long as I had my friends to back me up.
“Oh? With, who was it again? That gay-lord, Tyson, right? That’s right. That’s his name. What’s wrong with you two? Not friends anymore?” He wanted to annoy me as much as possible. I knew that he was going to try and make me crack, like he was always trying to do, but it didn’t matter. I was going to make sure he didn’t have that opportunity. I was going to be as subordinate as possible, listen to his every word and breathe it in like it was my only hope. And the worst part:
It was.
“Yes, with Tyson. But we’re going to be friends again soon. I’m going to go say sorry to him, and we’re going to be friends. You can tell Kara that, Dan, you can tell her that I’m going to say sorry to everyone. Starting with you. I’m sorry I’ve been mean to you, and all of the things I’ve been doing to you. I should have listened to you from the beginning. Whatever, you are nice in Kara’s eyes, and so you are nice in my eyes, no matter what you do. In other words, I’m sorry, Dan Keppler, that I ever even lashed out at you in the least.” It felt good, a strange satisfaction. It was almost better that I had to apologize to him, because there was something in there that I knew would fluster him, would put me in a power over him.
“No!”
Again, all heads turned. Again the whole bus kind of stopped, to see what was going on. Who said that? Who actually said that? Because I’ve never heard that voice before. Or maybe I have, in one of those memories like raindrops. One of those memories. Maybe. |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 18, 2007 13:33:08 GMT -5
It was Dave.
“No, you can’t forgive him. He’s wrong. And now I know that. Everything he’s done, everything, it’s totally wrong. Why are you submitting to him? What is wrong with you?”
“Dave. Thanks for the wake-up call.” But it wasn’t a wake-up call. It was the truth. The truth that I wasn’t allowed to admit to. “But I have to. Kara, she’s my friend, see, and she thinks Dan is nice. Even if it’s not true, I have to believe that for her. And I’ve been really mean to him.”
Redhead grinned, maliciously, kind of, but I could tell he was suspicious of something. “Dave. What’s up with you now, man? Don’t you remember? You’re supposed to be my friend.” Blackmail. God, why the blackmail? Was there any guilt for this guy, karma, anything to show him he was wrong?
Dave growled, but sat back down in his seat.
And then I thought, that’s the kid that Tyson has a crush on. A strong sense of justice. But he had never really spoken out before, until hearing Tyson’s name…
Oh my God. Was it possible? Was it true? Was there actually hope for this kid?
Maybe Dave liked Tyson back. |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 18, 2007 17:16:37 GMT -5
Aaah, Chapter Seventeen. Beautiful. I could feel it. I could feel it in my bones, however withered they were, and I could feel it crawling under my skin. I could feel it on my eyes, in my hair, in my blood, in my guts, in my soul. I could feel it everywhere, all over the place, but I really knew it was true once I could feel it in my heart. It was only then that I knew what it was. I could feel it.
I was slowly losing feelings for Kara.
It didn’t all happen at once, but I knew it was happening, all along. Slowly but surely, I knew that she wasn’t the one for me. I knew it, because my heart wouldn’t jump up and do flips every time I walked past her. And, not to mention the fact that she trusted Dan over me, when, all along, he was the one bullying me. So we were on different sides of the issue. And yet, I still couldn’t leave her behind. Because, even though I didn’t like her anymore, she was still my friend, and, being the true friend that I was, I couldn’t let her down. It didn’t matter. Kara was not my crush, Kara was my friend. Kara was my friend. At least, that’s what I hoped.
Either way, that day, I was focused on one thing: talking to Ally. I was going to make sure that our friendship was repaired at least, because it wasn’t okay what was going on between everyone. That tension, it needed to stop. It needed to stop because they were my friends, and we deserved to have another carefree laugh. So I was determined to find Ally and talk to her.
Lucky me, because I was able to do it on the morning bus.
I climbed on slowly, looking for her, making sure that she actually was there. Indeed she was, waiting for me in the back seat, like she had been for the past year. I sat down next to her, which, I could tell, annoyed her a little bit, and waited a little bit. I couldn’t procrastinate too long, because that would mean that I would never get around to actually talking to her, and this could have been the only chance I had.
“Ally, we need to talk.”
The same opening line, always. We need to talk. We didn’t need to talk, I mean, it wouldn’t have killed us to not talk. I would have to rephrase that. I would have to say, “I want to talk.” Because, that, that sounds more friendly, a little more inviting, if you ask me.
“What about?” she asked. I think she was still kind of mad at me for hiding everything from her and not talking to Tyson and all of that, but it didn’t matter. I had to convince her that I was there for her.
“About everything. I just want you to know, about the secret and all. I’m not telling you because I want to protect you. I want to be your friend. But I am going to talk to Tyson really soon. I’m just trying to help everyone, and I’ve realized what I’ve done wrong. So I’m going to talk to Tyson tomorrow, and then everything will be cool. Cool?”
“Not cool.”
Now, why would it be not cool? I don’t know, let’s try and answer that in one of three ways. A) Ally lost all of her trust in me, considering I let her and everyone else down by ruthlessly and totally abandoning them because of the whole secret thing. B) I wouldn’t tell Ally the stupid secret, which wasn’t really stupid anymore, because I accepted Tyson, and, upon thinking about it, I should have all along. C) Well, uh, A and B together, I guess.
“Why not cool?”
“First off, I’ve lost all trust in you to follow up on anything. And secondly, you won’t tell me what’s wrong. You’re hiding something from me.”
Well, uh, A and B together, I guess.
“Ally. Listen to me, please. I’m really sorry about all of this, all of this stuff happening, and I’ve tried to do my best…well actually, I wasn’t. I was being a stupid jackass, but I realized that I was being a stupid jackass, and I really want to stop. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?” I was hoping she would say yes, considering the last time I asked that question, Kara totally said no and ignored me for the rest of the day.
“Only if you tell me the secret.”
Come on! Why? Why do you have to do this to me Ally? I can’t tell you the secret because it will hurt you. I already told you, I want to protect you, and I can’t tell you! Why don’t you listen to me? Then again, I didn’t really listen to Tyson. I wanted to know what it was, I wanted to know just as badly as she wanted to know. And he was right to safeguard it. So, no matter what happened, I was going to keep that secret locked away in my mind, because even if I was dead, no one would ever know that secret, except for Tyson and I. I was going to make sure of it.
“No! I can’t tell you. Trust me, you have to, I’m only trying to protect you. Can’t you accept that fact and move on?” But I knew what the answer would be. I knew her position, and I knew her answer. I knew exactly what she was going through, and it was a bad feeling, but it would be a way worse feeling if I told her. I knew it was for her own good. But she didn’t trust my judgment.
“No. Tell me, or I won’t forgive you.” Ally was kind of acting like a spoiled child now, trying to make that bargain with me. I wasn’t going to give it to her, I wasn’t going to give anything to her. I was going to make sure it was locked up in my brain, just like I said earlier. It wasn’t fair that she was doing that to weasel it out of me, using the situation to make me tell her. It was exploitation, blackmail. But I wasn’t really mad. Like I thought Dave would be incredibly mad at Redhead for blackmailing him, but it was a surprisingly overwhelming feeling of powerlessness. Like there was nothing you could do but sit and wait it out. Still, I knew I had to keep the secret. Just like Kara, I was going to be Ally’s true friend, even if she wasn’t going to be mine.
“This isn’t fair, Ally,” I pointed out, kind of angry that she would resort to such extreme measures. “You’re blackmailing me. That’s going down to Redhead’s level to get what you want. And I feel like you’re almost…using me. No, not really that, but whatever. You’re not going to hear the secret. And if that means you’re not friends with me, okay. You can’t stop me from being friends with you.”
It didn’t matter. I was kind of happy that I was going out on this quest to regenerate my friendship with everyone. It felt really good to be doing something good, to be doing something I could finally be proud of. Not only that, but the reward was absolutely huge. Getting all of my friends back was really something I could be proud of. And there was no doubt I was going to feel pretty satisfied by the time everything was over.
Remember how I said that I was going to talk to Tyson the next day? Yeah, that didn’t really happen.
That’s because he pulled me over and talked to me that day.
And the only reason that happened was that he finally figured me out. He got up out of the cafeteria for no reason at all, and walked over to the other one, spotting me pretty quickly. As soon as he did, he went over, with an insanely evil and angry look on his face, and sat down at my table. I was incredibly startled by his appearance. After all, I wasn’t expecting to see him, much less exchange information with him, until the next day, and there was no doubt that I was going to be dragged into a premature conversation. “So, how’s the math work going, huh?” he asked, obviously angry about everything. “Oh wait, this isn’t the math room. This just happens to be the cafeteria next to the one I was eating in. Why would you be here, good friend? Shouldn’t you be studying with the teacher instead of eating lunch here.”
I was caught.
There was no use in lying. Tyson had caught me, and if Tyson catches you, there’s no escape. You can’t lie your way out of that kind of situation. So all I said was, “Meet me at the Mole’s Hideout, and we’ll talk after school. Because I think it’s due time for a talk.”
I was dreading it.
I was dreading it because I wasn’t prepared, not at all. There was no way I was ready to talk to him about everything that had happened. After all, it was like talking to someone you’d been fighting to for a long time, just sitting down and having a friendly talk with them. It was going to be really awkward, but I knew I had to. I would never be ready for a talk like that, it was impossible to be prepared for a talk like that. But maybe, if I’d had an extra day, I would have been more mentally ready for the challenge. I wouldn’t know. But it didn’t matter. I was Tyson’s friend, even if he didn’t know that yet. I was his friend. Even though gay people were weirdo-strange-people, it didn’t matter, he was my friend. No matter what he was he was my friend.
That didn’t make the prospect of talking to him any easier.
And as I approached the Mole’s Hideout for a private meeting for the second time that year, I knew that this talk was going to be even worse than the last. It was going to bring forth all that pain that had been felt throughout the year, and it was going to be the final judgment. It was going to tell me whether I could really stand the test of time, whether our bonds could do that or not. And I knew it was going to be hard to pass with all of the stuff that had gone on that year, but I knew I had a chance of passing. With Tyson, the most understanding and smart person I had ever met, there was a chance. I could tell him, he wouldn’t care. I could tell him he was my friend. And just like Ally and Kara, if he didn’t want to be mine, I could still be his.
And yet, friendship needs to work both ways.
You need two people to be in a friendship with you. Sure, you can call yourself someone else’s friend, but can you call them yours? That’s the whole question, that’s the whole thing with friendship. It’s exactly the opposite of a one-way road. There needs to be an interaction, a two way call, at least, for there to be a friendship. And once that is lost…
I was almost there, and I knew Tyson was waiting for me. He was always ready, always waiting, always waiting for the others. He was always ahead, but always waiting for everyone else to catch up.
Once that is lost, the bond between the two people is temporarily broken.
Neither one of the friends will ever forget. They will never forget of their former friend. Whether it be lack of contact, a bitter fight that ended in disaster, or a friendship that was just not meant to be, it doesn’t matter. Each day, when one person and the other reflect, reflect on their gains and their losses, and their mistakes, they will always remember. Because, no matter what, there is that snapped bond, waiting to be regenerated and healed, started anew. Waiting, like Tyson was waiting.
A bond that is broken can always be glued back together.
And that was what I was going to attempt to do. I was going to glue our bond back together, make us friends again. I was going to be friends with him, and he was going to be friends with me, and it was going to be like old times, a two-way relationship. It was going to be way back when, then and now, but the best part was, we were going to be friends.
There he was, waiting in the Mole’s Hideout. I could just see him there, in my mind, as I walked down the hall. I could see him fidgeting, because if the talk was awkward for me, it was double as awkward for him. No doubt he was shaking, worried sick that I would just totally dis him and abandon him. No wonder. It’s a cold world out there, one that is cruel and unfair. No wonder he was scared, I would be, you would be, just about anyone would be. And if you count Tyson in that position, his emotions multiply. So however scared you would be, quadruple it and you’ve got what he was feeling.
“Hey.”
I peered around and there he was, and he was not his normal confident, slightly condescending self. He was vulnerable, shrunk. His air wasn’t overpowering, like normal, instead he was in a little shell, protecting himself from the world’s harsh winds. I could tell. He didn’t look any different, but I could just tell. The air around us was still, and all of a sudden, I felt a wave of calm wash over everything. I was here, and there was nothing to be worried about. Tyson was the worried one, and all of a sudden, I felt like I had to comfort him, because he shouldn’t have been. I shouldn’t have given him reason to be worried, I shouldn’t have been the horrible person I chose to be. I should have given him a chance, like he gave me a thousand times before. He was right. We needed to talk. And this time, it wasn’t just something we wanted to do. If I died, right there, right then, I would have been angry that I wouldn’t have settled things. I wanted, right then and there, to just tell him to stop worrying because I’m your friend now. But it didn’t go like that.
“What’s…up?” He was kind of slow, but I could tell he wanted to take a step in the right direction. He was a little scared.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t even give you a chance. I admit to all the things I’ve done, and I just want to say, let’s start anew and be friends. I avoided you when I should have been your true friend, like you’ve always been to me. I should have been there for you, but instead I was off watching my back instead of watching yours. I guess I just learned a really, really big lesson. If you could…if you would please forgive me, even though I don’t expect you to, I’m really sorry.” I looked down to the tiles of the floor, hoping he would accept my apology. After all, Kara and Ally didn’t do so well at that part.
“Okay. I want to be friends with you again. But there’s something else that’s still on my mind. I get the feeling from you…almost the vibe, that you hate gay people. That you, dislike them for some reason. Why?” Tyson had regained his overpowering aura, that air of his, as soon as he had extracted what he was looking for. I think that was it; he was expecting harsh criticism, but then, upon receiving my reach out for friendship, the same, normal Tyson came rushing back into his blood. It was almost like, as soon as he heard the words come out of my mouth, he was back to normal, an ancient spell bringing the statue back to life. But what did he say? I dislike gay people? Well, of course, but I couldn’t tell that to him, could I?
I had to.
“Well, I mean, you’re an exception, Tyson, but most gay people, like, rape people, and stuff like that. Rape their own gender,” I admitted to knowing. It felt kind of uncomfortable talking to Tyson about that kind of stuff, but it was okay, because he was my friend, and it was important. He needed to know. He needed to know what I thought, and that was that. There were no more secrets, other than to protect everyone. And Tyson didn’t need protection.
“Nope. The fact is, there are more straight rapes than gay rapes. WAY more. Even according to percentage. I mean, about ten percent of the world is gay, or something like that, and it’s ninety percent straight, but even then, when you weigh things like that, there’s a bigger weighted percentage of straight rapes than gay ones. That fact you state proudly, sir, is just a myth.” My eyes widened. But it was a well-known fact, wasn’t it? It was a well-known fact that gay people were rapists and stuff like that, that it was all they could do to stop themselves. But, he could be thinking the same thing about me, as I was thinking about him. He could have thought that, because the number of straight rapes was greater than the number of gay rapes, weighted percentage-wise, he could have considered me a rapist. And that wouldn’t be fair. That would be a stereotype. And that was what I was doing. Stereotyping gay people.
“So, I don’t know, what if one liked me? Huh? That would be awkward.” I tried to argue with him, just to see what I could get past him, but more to see just exactly how I was wrong.
“Well, it would be just about as awkward as a girl liking you that you didn’t like back. Love is love, no matter who it comes from or where it goes to. So, with the rape factor out of the equation, and the fact that the only difference between gay and straight people would be their sexual orientation, which is basically a private matter between families, then why do so many people hate us?”
I knew the answer. I knew it but I didn’t want to admit it. It was so obvious. It was so obvious I could scream it. “Because gay people are different.”
“Impressive. Humans need to feel accepted, and the only way they can do that is by excluding someone. Now, this works the same way in society. If society can exclude a certain group from their norm, then it works out, and everyone else feels accepted. And guess who we decided to boot back in the 1960s?”
“Um, I don’t know,” I replied stupidly, and after a few minutes, I realized what he was talking about. “Oh, black people. But that’s…wrong. Just like what we’re doing, it’s wrong, it’s totally wrong judging people like that!”
“Exactly. So, tell me again why you hate gay people.” Tyson smiled. Something I hadn’t seen in a long time.
Ace. Totally ace. There was nothing we had against gay people, nothing society had against gay people except for a private affair, and yet, we hated them with a fiery burning passion. Sure, God didn’t accept them, but who wrote the bible? People! People wrote the bible! God was wrong if he didn’t accept them. I knew, I knew in my own heart that God was wrong. And for the first time, I saw my heart stop, I saw myself standing on steady ground.
Something I hadn’t seen in a long time. |
|
I've only read the Prologue so far. I like your writing style. Very easy to read. And I like your first few paragraphs. Very hooking. 
Reminds me that I don't have a catchy intro. *notes that down for editing after November XD*
