A Better Place Page 7
I felt a trickle of blood running from the corner of my mouth. My chest and abdomen hurt in a few places. There was a dull ache in my groin. I’d been so shocked by Casper’s outburst that I’d barely registered the blows, painful as they were. I guess I deserved what I got. I’d meant to tell him that I loved him, but instead I ended up groping him. How was he supposed to react to that? It was obvious now that he wasn’t gay and I’d gone and felt him up in my car. I was such a fucking moron.
I broke down and cried, not just cried, bawled. I’d messed up everything, but the worst thing of all was knowing that Casper didn’t love me. Hell, he hated me. The thing was, I still loved him. I couldn’t stop loving him. I loved him more than anything and he hated me. I couldn’t stand that. I couldn’t take it. I closed my eyes, but all I could see was the look of sheer terror and hatred on Casper’s face. His beautiful features were contorted by rage and fear and I’d done it, I’d caused it.
I bawled my eyes out. My life was over. After all these years I thought I’d found someone like me, but he was just like the rest. They’d all hate me if they knew. I was a fake. The Brendan Brewer that everyone saw each day was nothing but a fictional character. His popularity, all that he had, was just an illusion. I was nothing. All those girls that flirted with me, all those boys that patted me on the back and told me how awesome I was, they’d all hate me if they knew—all of them. And my parents, they were so proud of me, they were so proud because I was such a stud, because I was captain of the football team. They wouldn’t be proud if they knew what I really was. They wouldn’t be proud if they knew I was a fag.
I kept on crying, although I knew there was no use in crying about it. It was all over. Everyone in the park had heard Casper screaming at me, calling me a fag. By Monday morning it would be all over school, all over town. I was finished. I cried more. I knew what I had to do. There were no options left. I started the car. It was all over. I’d never live to be eighteen.
Casper
“Get off me! Get off me! Get off me you fucking faggot! Get off me!” I screamed hysterically. I punched and kicked at Brendan, fighting my way out of the car. I was terrified, and all the more so because I wasn’t expecting that from him. I never thought he’d be like my brother. I never suspected that he was one of those.I was shaking with terror as I jumped out of the car and bolted. Everyone was staring at me, but I didn’t care. Brendan was the faggot. He was the one who put his hand on my leg and tried to feel me up. I didn’t care if everyone stared at me or not. I was glad they were there. Who knows what would have happened if I was alone somewhere with Brendan? He didn’t try to stop me as I fled from the car. If we’d been alone, I’m sure things would’ve been different. God only knows what he would’ve done to me.
I ran and ran and kept running. I was pretty sure that Brendan wasn’t following me, but I ran anyway. I ran all the way to the cemetery and took refuge in its comforting darkness and solitude. I collapsed on a stone bench, my heart pounding in my chest like it wanted out, my breath coming in gasps. Tears flowed from my eyes. I sobbed. My whole body shook with fear.
It wouldn’t have been as bad if I’d seen it coming. It wouldn’t have shaken me up so much if I’d suspected it. I had no clue, however. It blind-sided me completely. I thought Brendan liked me. I thought we were becoming friends. I was wrong. All that time he’d just been getting close to me, waiting his chance. All that time he’d just been working up to what he really wanted. He made my skin crawl.
“Fucking faggot,” I said to myself. “Molester.”
That’s all he was, a molester, just like my brother. How could I have been so taken in by him? How could I have been so stupid? I felt like a fool as I thought
54 about it. What else could Brendan Brewer have wanted from me? Why else would the star of the football team hang out with the smallest, poorest, most pathetic boy in school? He probably thought he could do whatever he wanted with me and I wouldn’t say anything because he could snap me like a twig.
I couldn’t stop shaking. I kept thinking about what he could have done to me. If he’d got me somewhere alone, he could’ve raped me, killed me. I’d gotten off lucky. All he’d managed was a quick grope. Brendan was way stronger than me. He could have made me do anything he wanted. He could’ve done anything to me he wanted. My stomach churned at the thought of what could have happened. I tried to calm myself, tell myself that I was safe, that I’d escaped.
I looked around me. The graveyard was lit by moonlight. Sometimes I envied the dead. They didn’t have any worries or troubles. No one could hurt them. They didn’t have to run. They didn’t have to hide. Sometimes I wished I was dead. At that moment, I just wished I could stop shaking.
Life was cruel. I thought I’d been gaining a friend, the coolest I’d ever had in my life. Brendan Brewer himself was talking to me, doing things with me. I was practically cool just by association. People weren’t bothering me as much anymore. The terrible trio was afraid to hurt me. Everything was looking up and then, BAM, life smashed me upside the head with a two by four. I hung my head and cried some more.
After a good long time, I stopped crying. I began to think about what might lie ahead. I began to think about what I was going to do about Brendan. I thought about telling everyone just what he’d tried with me. Who would believe me though? I’d just get laughed at. No one would believe that the quarterback of the football team had tried to molest me, me, Casper the Friendly Runt. I knew they’d just say I was crazy. They’d say that if Brendan was gay he could sure do a hell of a lot better than me. Hell, the whole thing seemed crazy to me. I wouldn’t have believed it myself, but there was no denying it. Brendan’s hand had been on my leg, he’d rubbed it, and he’d touched me…there.
I wondered what Brendan would do. If I told anyone about what he’d done, he’d kick my ass for sure. He’d hunt me down and beat me senseless. Brendan was strong. Those muscles of his weren’t just for looks. He could rip me in half if he wanted. He wouldn’t even have to touch me; he could get someone else to do it for him. Any of his football buddies would work me over with just one word from Brendan. He could get the terrible trio to do his dirty work too. They’d be delighted to beat me into a bloody pulp. Any way I looked at it, I was screwed.
I waited until it got really late, and then made my way home. It was Friday night, or really Saturday morning I guess. At least I had the weekend before I had to go back to school and meet my fate. I wasn’t so sure I was going to go back. I’d get my ass kicked for sure. I’d thought that my life couldn’t possibly get any worse. I’d been wrong.
Brendan
“Hey, Brendan!” My head snapped around. It was my best friend Brad. I turned away from him, shoved the car in gear. I had to get away. I couldn’t let him stop me from doing what I had to do. I couldn’t face him.
Brad wasn’t going to be so easily left behind. He lunged for the car, caught my arm. Before I knew it he was inside sitting by me. I turned off the motor. I couldn’t do what I wanted to do with him in the car.
“What’s the matter with you?” said Brad. He was out of breath, he’d been running. I realized that he must have been in the park. He must’ve run after me on foot. I looked at him for a moment. His eyes were filled with concern. Mine were filled with tears, there was no hiding that.
“Leave me alone,” I said. “Just get out of the car and leave me alone.” “And what are you going to do if I do that, Brendan? Huh?” I looked at him. I couldn’t bear to be near him. I just knew what he must
think of me, how much he must hate me.
“I’m going to do what I have to do,” I said flatly.
“You’re scaring me, Brendan.”
“Get out.”
Brad dove for the keys and jerked them from the ignition. I lunged for
them, but he jerked back and kept them out of reach. I was furious. “Give me the fucking keys Brad or I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Huh? Are you going to hit me, Brendan?”
friend. There was something in his voice, however, some edge of concern, some memory of our friendship, that wouldn’t allow me to attack him. My rage turned to pain. I broke down and bawled right in front of Brad. It must
57
have shocked him. I’d never cried in front of him before. I didn’t allow myself to cry. Brad took me in his arms and held me while I cried. He didn’t say anything. He just held me and petted my hair. I’d known Brad forever, but we’d never hugged, not once. It felt weird in a way, but it also felt right. I could feel Brad’s friendship flowing through me. I could feel that he cared about me, even after what had just happened. It gave me hope.
I don’t know how long I cried on his shoulder, several minutes at least. All the pain and fear came pouring out of me. It wasn’t just the torment of the last few minutes; it was the anguish of a life-time. Finally I leaned back and rubbed the tears from my eyes.
“Brendan, what’s wrong?” asked Brad quietly.
“You saw what happened, didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Well you saw it, you heard it. Doesn’t that explain it?”
“No, it doesn’t, not really. I mean, that boy started screaming at you and
shit, but…”
“You heard what he was saying didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah. I heard, but…”
“I can just guess what everyone is saying about me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh come on, Brad. He was calling me a fag.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So?” I said, as if the answer was obvious.
“What? You think everyone is going to think you’re a queer just because
some boy was calling you a fag. Fuck Brendan, I’ve been called a fag plenty of times. It’s just one of those things guys say when they get mad. It doesn’t mean anything. Hell, everyone knows you’re no queer Brendan, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I was balanced on the edge of a razor, so precisely positioned between two possibilities that I was trapped in indecision. Part of me wanted to tell Brad my secret, part of me wanted to bury it deeply and hold it as close as I ever had. We’d just shared one of those rare moments between friends when emotions and feelings that were long hidden, but forever there, were brought into the light of day for a moment to remind both of what was really between them. I looked into Brad’s eyes. He was my oldest and dearest friend. We’d shared everything; except for that part of myself I could not share. Did I dare trust him now, at the very moment when I’d need his friendship the most? What if he turned on me, called me a fag as Casper had done, and bolted from me as if I were some kind of unspeakable monster?
The few moments before I spoke reached out into an eternity. I felt as if years, even millennia, were spinning past as I sat there, poised to dive in one direction or the other, indecisive, terrified beyond the ability to speak or move. I was perfectly balanced, unsure until the very last moment which direction I would chose.
I looked into Brad’s eyes, searching, seeking a connection to all the years of our friendship. I sought out his heart, and his friendship.
“Brad, I…” The words I wanted to speak caught in my throat. I loved Brad, as a friend, I trusted him more than anyone, but when it came right down to it I couldn’t open up to him. I just couldn’t.
“Brad, we both know I’m no queer, but when someone starts saying shit like Casper did it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. Being accused is just as bad as being queer.”
I nearly started bawling again. The loneliness fell on me like a mountain, crushing me under its weight. I’d come so close to sharing the real me with Brad. I’d actually started to tell him, but I couldn’t. I just didn’t have the balls to reveal my true self to him and risk the loss of his friendship. I felt more alone at just that moment than I ever had in my entire life.
“Dude, you’re overreacting. It’s not all that bad.”
“Come on, Brad, everyone in the parking lot was staring at me.”
“Okay, they were all looking, but that doesn’t mean they think you’re a queer.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“Look Brendan, if you’re so worried about it, let’s do a little damage control. I’ll spread some rumors about you and some girl. Or, better yet…” Brad laughed to himself. “Yeah, that’s it; Kate Beckner is over in the park right now. She’s always had a thing for you. Fuck, if you snapped your fingers she’d get on her knees and dive straight for your zipper. Let’s go back, you talk to Kate, make out with her or some shit like that, right in front of everyone. Or better yet, try somethin’ serious right there in the park. I guarantee no one will even remember what that little shit said to you.”
I wasn’t sure, but it sounded like a reasonable plan. If I didn’t do it, or something like it, I’d be up to my ass in rumors Monday morning at school. The only way to fight it was to start more rumors that would make everyone forget about the first ones.
I drove Brad back to the park. I got out and leaned against the car. I felt like everyone was staring at me. I was shaking. Kate was there all right, standing with some other girls, and a couple of guys. I wandered over in her direction. Her eyes latched onto me. She devoured me with those eyes. I let her.
“Hey, Kate.”
“Hi, Brendan.” I could practically feel her ripping off my shirt with her eyes. I was playing with fire.
“What was up with that kid?” asked Eric.
“He your new boyfriend or something Brewer?” asked Scott, and then laughed.
“I didn’t know you were funny,” I said, not cracking so much as a smile. I looked Scott up and down, like I was considering kicking his ass all over the parking lot. I was. He stopped laughing fast enough.
“Ah, you know Brendan’s no fag,” said Eric.
“Yeah, fags don’t do this,” I said, grabbing Kate and giving her the most passionate kiss of her life. Eric and Scott started whooping and soon everyone was looking at us.
I pulled my lips from Kate’s. She looked like she was about to faint. I think I shocked the hell out of her. She was smiling, though, and I hadn’t failed to notice her hand wandering down onto my butt as we kissed. No one else had failed to notice it either.
“You need a ride home, Kate?” I asked.
For an answer, she grabbed my arm and pulled me toward my car. We were giving birth to a dozen rumors at least, all of them the kind that would make everyone think I was just as girl-crazy as my buddies, and far more successful at bagging them.
Kate slid over next to me as we pulled out of the parking lot. Eyes followed us as I drove the convertible down the street. Brad was right; it was just the thing to make everyone forget about the whole scene with Casper. It would cover my ass nicely, and make Casper look like a little freak. I felt guilty about that. I didn’t want to hurt Casper. I loved him. I was in love with him. But what could I do? I had too much to lose if I didn’t crush the rumors that I was gay before they had a chance to get started. Besides, Casper wasn’t likely to have anything to do with me after what had passed between us. I’d seen that look in his eye. He was terrified. He looked at me like I was going to rape and murder him. That look shook me to my very soul. No doubt he hated me now. That didn’t change the way I felt about him, however. I still loved him. I didn’t know if anything could ever change that.
Kate wasn’t wasting any time. She cuddled up against me and put her hand on my leg. It didn’t surprise me. I knew that Brad was right about what he’d said about her. Kate had a reputation. Most of the stuff guys said in the locker room was bull-shit, but I knew for a fact that some of it was true. I’d been at the party where she went upstairs with three guys. I’d walked in on them by mistake. I was looking for the bathroom and instead I found Kate, on her knees with all three guys around her. After seeing that, I didn’t doubt much of what was said about her. I didn’t
like calling a girl that, but Kate was a slut.
Kate rubbed my leg. She was getting me excited, even if she was a girl. I still had no interest in her, however. I drove around town a few times, making a big circle, passing the park so everyone could see Kate practically sitting in my lap. When I thought we’d been seen enough, I drove home and pulled up in front of the house. The lights were on.
“Shit, my parents are home,” I said. I knew they’d be home, but I wanted Kate to think I didn’t. I wanted her to think I’d planned to take her in and do the things she expected of me.
I looked at her like I was disappointed and upset that my plans were ruined. It wasn’t too hard to look upset. I was upset about a lot of things. I wasn’t feeling very good about using Kate like that either. She had a reputation, but she was still a person. She didn’t deserve to be used.
“Ah, this isn’t right away. I can’t use you like this,” I said out loud. I hadn’t really meant to say that. I quickly thought up lies for cover.
“What do you mean?” asked Kate.
“I’m not looking for a girlfriend,” I said. “I was just planning to…”
Kate didn’t look too upset, hell, she didn’t look upset at all.
“I didn’t think you were looking for a girlfriend, Brendan. I’m not looking for a boyfriend either. I’m just looking for some fun.” She rubbed my jeans some more, right where it counted. I was getting excited, and uncomfortable.