"You'll be late, get up!" my father
nagged from the door as he headed back into the hallway, knotting
his tie. Mutterings could be heard in the hall as my mother tried
to straighten my fathers tie, which is a Hurculean task because it
seems as though he is always tugging at it and jostling it out of
place.
"Sweetie?" my mother's voice filtered through the covers,
"Honey get up, we have to get going soon and you'll want to eat
first, right?" my mother went back into the hallway nattering
as she went.
"Come one jackoff, get out of bed," my younger brother's
voice carried across the room and the sound of running feet could
be heard. Suddenly there was a huge weight on my stomach and I couldn't
breath, the wind having been knocked out of me.
"Get off you asshole!" I spluttered in between gasps for
breath.
He just laughed like the maniacal little asshole he is and ran from
the room.
"Mom! Sean was in my room again!" I called out as I disentangled
myself from my covers.
"Was not, he's a big, fat, hairy liar!" Sean screamed as
he pounded down the stairs.
"Could you two try and get along today? I really don't want to
listen to this all day!" my mother fussed as she passed by my
door again, "well, at least you're awake, hop in the shower for
goddness sake and do something with your hair!"
I placed my bare feet on the hardwood floor of my room, clad in my
tee shirt and boxer briefs, and slowly stood into a stretch. Today
I turned sixteen and it also happened to be the day my brother was
coming home on leave from the Navy. My brother, the one that has made
my life hell for as long as I can remember, is coming home for the
first time in two years. I am so looking forward to it.
Not.
I walked to the shelving that was built into
the wall of my room and extracted a fresh towel, having sent mine down
the laundry chute yesterday, and proceeded to the bathroom. I was the
last to reach the bathroom this morning, Sean having been up to jerk
off at the crack of dawn I am sure, so at least there is no line.
After showering and 'doing something with my hair' as my mother requested,
I went back to my room clad in my towel and looked at myself appraisingly
in the mirror. I was fat, no two ways about it, bubbled at the belly
and I can't say I see any definition to my chest. I brushed my long
chestnut hair off my brow and studied my face. Yup, terminally uninspiring.
I headed for the dresser and retrieved fresh underwear and socks, suddenly
feeling a breeze as my towel disappeared. I whirled in anger and my
brother snapped the towel…hitting me in the balls.
"You little FREAK! Get the fuck OUT of HERE!" I howled in
pain and humiliation.
"I don't want to hear that language!" my mother called out
and my brother beat a hasty retreat from the room, stifling his laughter
as I slammed the door shut in embarrassment and anger.
"Little asshole, jesus he must be a free ticket to heaven."
I thought aloud as I checked my nut sack out to be sure there wasn't
any damage beyond the fading sting and ache that accompanies having
that area hit. My little brother is the anti-christ, somewhere there
is a tattoo with that famous, or infamous 666 on it. Probably on his
ass.
I pulled on my underwear, albeit a little gingerly, and then sat on
my bed to attend to my socks. I pulled out some jeans, my favorite garb,
and a long sleeved tee shirt before heading downstairs for some breakfast.
Sean raced out the front door, no doubt on his way to school, and I
walked into the kitchen to find the mess the little asshole had left.
My mother's heels clacked into the kitchen, tick tacking as she went
and my father trailed behind her with his coffee cup, setting it in
the sink.
"Ok, we are heading to the airport, have a good day at school,
honey," my mother said, "and clean this mess up please,"
and then they were gone.
They forgot.
"What do you mean they forgot?" Cynthia
asked, stopping her pencil in mid word to yet another love letter to
her current boyfriend, and stared at me.
"They walked out and nobody said a frigging word, just have a nice
day at school honey, and they were gone," I replied morosely.
"How do you forget your kids birthday? You're not even related
to me and I didn't forget!" she sighed as she finished writing
down her undying devotion to her flavor of the week.
I just sat in our homeroom class, totally unhappy with the world in
general at the moment.
"Hey, how's everything?" asked Brian Kennedy, a buddy of mine,
before taking a seat next to us.
"His 'rents forgot his birthday," Cynthia announced while
not breaking her stride in her diatribe to whomever.
"No way."
I simply nodded glumly.
"Happy Birthday anyways," Brian said handing me a card. I
brightened visibly over this, happy at least my friends didn't forget
me
"Movie passes, cool, thanks Bri," I said grinning at him.
"No problem, Bro, maybe we can take in Lord of the Rings this weekend,
huh?" he said as he leaned back in his chair.
"Sounds like a plan. So, who's the guy this week?" I asked
nudging Cynthia.
"Stan and I have been dating from three weeks, you wanna give it
a rest?" she eyed me evilly, "Besides I got you something
too," and so saying produced a small package from her bag. I felt
a little silly, but what the hell, she got me good for once.
I took the package and unwrapped it to find a fine gold necklace wrapped
in tissue paper.
"Cyn, wow, you really shouldn't have," I breathed.
"I know, especially with your cracks about my dating habits. Besides
I think Stan is leaning your direction more than mine," she muttered
and I froze midway to placing the chain around my neck.
"Cynthia, I thought we weren't supposed to talk about that in public?"
Brian asked softly.
"What? It's just us, who's going to hear? Besides if no one has
figured out that good old all American Chad, here, has had a crush for
the last four years on," she was cut off by Brian.
"Who's gonna hear? Like the whole cafeteria!" he hissed.
I came out to my friends one night over a lot of alcohol, and Brian
confessed to it as well which left Cynthia the lone straight in our
triad. Unfortunately, Brian and I really weren't attracted to one another
so no match made in heaven there, although it did make our relationship
much closer. Gradually Cyn had been pulled into our web and she was
a certified fag hag now, though you dare not mention hag around her
or she'd probably belt you.
"He's probably just not ready for an aggressive female like yourself,"
I said as I placed the necklace around the back of my head and latched
it, initially feeling the cold as it settled onto my skin.
"He's turning into a wuss," she grumped before looking at
me, "Looks nice, you sure you don't want to change sides?"
and Brian giggled.
Brian and I walked to our first class together
and sat in our usual space in the back of the room. We were chatting
about my asshole parents and their forgetting my birthday in all the
excitement of their golden boy returning, and neither of us liked Matt.
Matt used to practice pressure points on us as kids, take our lunch
money, and generally be an asshole. That was when he walked in and I
stopped in mid sentence, forgetting what I was saying. Tanned. Blond,
short cropped hair. Full lips. Slim, but defined as the tight tee revealed.
That was my obsession, as Brain and Cyn liked to call him. The movements
were graceful as he handed the slip to the teacher, fingers seeming
to be far too delicate to actually do anything more than lift paper.
He turned away from the desk and moved towards me, and my eyes tracked
him as he walked. The torn jeans showing tanned legs through the artful
tears in the fabric, and then as my eyes moved up the body to the face…that
stopped me dead in my thoughts.
Something I will never understand is 'the face'. Let me state that plainly
his face was a delight, smooth tanned skin and a petit face with high,
classically beautiful cheekbones. But the face had more than one expression,
and the one it held now was the one that made me squirm in my seat as
if I had shit on my nose and I was waiting for someone to point it out.
The expression was one of disdain, to be sure, of being aloof and superior
and I felt as if I were shrinking under his withering gaze. I dropped
my eyes to the paper in front of me, feeling my cheeks burning and the
hot guilt welling like bile in the back of my throat.
There were about six kids out in our school, and for the most part they
were left alone. More than a few people wondered about Thomas, better
known as my obsession, but he could turn with a great deal of fury so
fast…It was always a verbal confrontation, almost never physical, and
his words could sting to the bone. I guess your strength was gauged
in your ability to not flinch when he gave a hearty fake laugh to show
what he thought of your joke, or the sour smile that accompanied something
you thought as witty. In short he could knock you down with a look,
and that was how I felt at the moment.
"I will never understand your fascination with him, he is so mean,"
Brian whispered fiercely to me.
I remained silent, there wasn't really that much to say, was there?
I guess I was in love with the idea of him more than I was with him,
maybe I could admit that to myself. If only he didn't look at me like
that.
"Days like this are so depressing," Brian stated flatly as
we stood in line for lunch. Out the glass doors the day announced itself
as a gray, soggy and utterly somber. It matched my mood as I could do
no more than focus on that few moments, that fleeting second when he
made me feel so small without any words was ruining the whole day, just
how did he do that? More importantly, why did he do that? Did I appear
to be some potential danger, like a rabid dog?
"I wonder if he knows how small he makes people feel when he looks
at them like that," I muttered distractedly.
"Who? Looking like what? What are you talking about?" Brian
asked, more than a little irritated I might add.
"Thomas," I replied.
"Oh, of course, how silly of me," he remarked sarcastically.
"Ever notice how it's always Thomas? Never Tom or Tommy, always
Thomas," I said quietly.
"Yeah, all translates to asshole if you ask me, but if you have
to you can check a dictionary," Brian replied.
"Why is it this rainy weather always comes in blocks, like three
or four days in a row? These huge gray clouds just roll in and park
themselves like space ships," I mused.
In the drizzle formed a gray curtain outside, shapes moved like shadows
in the steam rising from the parking lot. A shape I could see Thomas
striding for the door in that quick stride of his, hair matted to his
skull and a look of murderous intent on his face. He was closely followed
by Leo, starting tailback for the football team. Thomas paused long
enough to draw the door open and Leo caught him by the arm, twisting
him around violently. Thomas's shoes lost their grip on the tiles floor,
sending him sprawling ungracefully. I began to move forward but Brian
caught me by the arm.
"Not your business, come on," he said quietly urging me towards
the line of barely edibles we had to choose from. I shook him off and
heard him swear under his breath as I moved to help Thomas stand. He
was already scrambling to his feet, shoes scrabbling for purchase on
the slick tiles. I reached him as he began to stand, Leo towering over
him like a mountain, an I stretched my hand out to him.
"Don't touch me, motherfucker," he spat as he regained his
balance and I watched as Leo's large hand clamped on Thomas's upper
arm again, and he twisted with a growl of anger and Leo's nails drug
across the skin raising it quickly into welts.
"I said get off me! I don't need your shit, if you want a boy,"
and the words stopped there as Leo lashed out with ham sized fist, landing
it squarely on the side of Thomas's mouth, driving him backward into
my shocked arms. Blood had begun to leak from his mouth and Leo stared
hard at him, grimacing as Thomas slowly regained his footing, glaring
malevolantly at Leo. Leo stepped forward and leveled a finger at Thomas,
he was a presence that demanded attention, and spoke softly and deliberately.
"You want to remember the last time you wanted to say that, it
would be worse this time," he rumbled with the promise of murder
in his eyes. Thomas stumbled a bit as he turned from Leo and headed
down the hall.
"The fuck you looking at?" Leo grunted as he shoved by me.
"Well, that was fun. Makes you wonder what the hell is up there,
huh?" Brian mused as he tugged me towards the back of the lunch
line. I allowed myself to be pulled, all the while watching Thomas's
retreating back and Leo moving after him, heading towards the locker
rooms.
The rest of the day was a blur for the most
part, lectures washing past me unheard and unheeded. Brian tried to
cheer me up, he always does, but I was somewhere else today. We sat
together in last period study hall, in the library, and Cyn was writing
again, the scritch of her pencil on the paper a grounding point in reality.
They forgot my birthday, Leo tried to kill Thomas, and Thomas landed
in my arms. Amazing day, if you asked me, but no one did sadly enough.
"So, should we like, egg you parents car or something?" Cyn
asked idly.
"I don't think that would jog their memories," I commented
sourly.
"It would be great fun though, especially if we got some in the
door lock, don't you think?" Brian mused with a cute smile on his
face.
"Brian, why couldn't you be my type?" I asked with a smile.
"Because, I don't bitch enough," he commented.
"Hah!" Cynthia snorted, "You're worse than my mother!"
"Oh my god, I wonder what he wants?" Brian said to the table
in general, and Cyn and I turned to see Thomas approaching. My breath
caught in my throat as he got closer, still obviously damp and his lip
sporting a small bump, but otherwise non the worse for wear.
"Hi, Chad right?" he said as he came to a stop at our table.
"Um, yeah," I said, totally shocked that he even knew my name.
"Stay the fuck out of my business."
All I could do was stare at his retreating back.
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Mark Peters
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