The Nerd, The Jock, and the Bully
by Victor Thomas
Chapter 9
Two hours.
That's how long I have been staring at the ceiling trying to come up with some rational explanation for last night. Everything was way out of character.
First me. I went to a fucking party for Christ's sake! Me! Although I was threatened into going. So, there's the rational excuse for that. Wait, excuse isn't the right word. Explanation. Yeah, that's it. A rational explanation.
Next. I went all sweaty palms and shit the moment I saw Isaac. What's wrong with me? I don't gush like some school girl high on masculine pheromones. I'm a perfectly rational person. I don't do stupid stuff like that.
Do you mean like drinking beer? Oh no, that's pretty rational.
Shut up! Stupid conscience. Everyone was drinking beer.
Oh good, blame it on peer pressure. That's exactly what a 'perfectly' rational person would do.
You know what. Go fuck yourself, conscience. Wait! That's like saying go fuck myself…
You know what? I'm not even going down that road.
Next. Darryl fucking McCain raped my mouth. He stole my first fucking kiss.
Not that I'm angry over something like that. I mean, who cares about some stupid kiss? Even though it was my first. You can't get you firsts back. Like ever! Never ever! Yeah, I don't care at all.
I'm not about to write it in my dairy about how much I hated Darryl for ruining my perfect moment where my knight in shining armor would come and sweep me up and claim all my firsts. I'm not a fucking cliché. Please!
Though I am going to fucking kill him for doing it against my will. He makes my life a living hell all of my school like and now he decides to pull this shit on me. That shit does not fly with me.
If don't care if he's in the closet. Under no circumstances do you do that to someone. Taking away their freedom like that, it's just wrong!
To be honest, I don't even know what I'm going to do when I see him on Monday. Should I walk up to him and demand he apologize to me in front of the whole school? Yeah, like that's going to happen! Or, do I just ignore him and just leave my bitch slap as enough punishment? Yeah, I could do that.
Then I remembered how scared I felt when I first came out to my mom. She was folding clothes in the living room when I came downstairs. I want to tell you that I was as confident as I can be. That I didn't care what she thought about me. That if she disowned me, it was her loss.
But I knew that none of that was true. I was scared shitless. Just the thought of her abandoning me was enough to make me want to run in the opposite direction. I remember feeling trapped. Nobody loved me at school. This was it. She was it for me. The only place I will ever get love. This tiny woman had the power to change my life with her words alone. If she left me, I would literally die. I didn't think I would survive.
All those thoughts left my head when I met her hazel eyes. There was so much love in there that I felt stupid for ever doubting her. She was my mother. She would love me unconditionally and that was something I was willing to bet my life on.
So, I took the few steps towards her and started blurting it all out. From fourth grade up until that day. Every single detail. The torture I went through. The crap they gave me. The lonely lunch breaks. All of it. When I looked into her eyes, they were filled with tears. Her cheeks had trails leading downwards. She kept on crying.
I tried to keep that voice in the back of my head, the one telling me that this was where it all ended. She hated me now. It voiced it opinion, but I didn't listen to it.
Because immediately, her arms were wrapped around me, gripping my body and squeezing the breath out of me.
I'll never, ever forget the words she told me that day.
"I don't care if you like boys, girls, or both for all I care. As long as you're still here. As long as you're still alive," she said, sobbing.
That day I felt the love that only a mother could offer.
So yeah, I know how scary it can to be to come out. I've read books and read people's stories online. Everyone experienced coming out in different ways. Some people don't come out until they're in their thirties or forties. Some people don't come out at all. Your family especially has a huge impact on you. I know first-hand.
I'll cut him some slack. That was probably him just trying to see if he is disgusted by kissing a guy or not. Since I'm the only guy he knows for certain is gay, and he knew he could keep my mouth shut. I was a safer choice.
Anyway, next. Me crying into Isaac's arms.
I blame it on the booze. That shit makes you do some crazy stuff. So, we can all safely say that I wasn't my perfectly rational self last night, because I was clearly intoxicated. There can be no other reason. Like maybe I felt safe in those big, strong arms. How they fit around me like a glove. Nope.
After my temporary insanity, Isaac dropped me off at home. He offered to come with me inside, but I just really needed to be alone. He understood that. At least I think he did. I just said goodbye and made my way inside. He never left until my door closed. Even then he waited five minutes before driving off.
So yeah, last night was full of emotions. Confusing emotions. Emotions that I am trying so hard to blame on the alcohol, even though I have this feeling that the alcohol just brought out what was inside me all along.
I didn't have long to entertain those thoughts because there was a knock on my door.
"Sweetie, you have a guest," mom said through the door.
Guest?
"Who is it?" I answered, my voice sounding hoarse.
"Melissa. She says it's urgent. I'm going to let her come up."
Then it hit me. Melissa!
I had left her stranded at the party when I was supposed to leave with her. She was probably worrying her little red head about where I was.
Suddenly, my door busted open and said red headed girl stood there with a really pissed off expression on her face.
"Any last words before I rip your fucking balls off?" she said sweetly, while standing in the doorway.
"Okay, wait!" I tell her before she strangles me.
"For what? You left me there trying to find you! I was this close to fucking calling the cops to help find you."
"I have a perfectly good explanation," I said, my hands up in surrender.
"Please do share, Cinderella! Because it damn well…"
"Darryl kissed me."
"… be a fucking good… what? Can you repeat that?" she said, confused.
"Darryl kissed me against my will. The fucking bastard! I hate him even more now."
"Holy shit! Okay, you're right. That is a good excuse," she said, some of her anger seeping in.
I couldn't tell her I had an episode over some stupid little kiss, so I told her everything, except the crying part, and told her that Isaac took me home.
"Wow! So, Darryl is a closet case and Isaac wants to bone you?"
"No! Well, yes to Darryl, but no to Isaac!" I said, shouting the last part. "All he did was drop me off at home."
"Then how did he get to the top of the stairs with you and Darryl?" she asked.
"He… heard me calling for help, and he ran up and stopped Darryl like any decent human being would."
"Yeah, and beat the shit out of Darryl. While abandoning a whole group of hoes that wanted to lick him clean, just to take you home. Oh yeah, no he doesn't want to bone you," she said with sarcasm.
I didn't even get to respond before my breath got caught in my throat. Looking over her shoulder, standing in the doorway, with flowers in his hand was…
Isaac!
"He has a hot body," she said. "I mean, it wouldn't be that bad if he wanted to bone you. Who am I kidding? You would probably jump for joy…"
"Melissa!"
"… if he ever came close to you. Never mind, the thought of him trying to get all hot and bothered with you."
"Melissa!"
"Deacon!"
I gave her that shut the fuck up look.
"Oh no, you do not give me that shut the fuck up look!" she said, waving her finger at me.
"Melissa, if you would just…"
"I think he's trying to say that the guy who wants to bone him and has the hot body is standing behind you," Isaac interrupted.
"Is that who I think it is?" she asks, still staring at me.
"Yep. In the flesh," he replied.
"Okay… this is awkward. I'm just going to go now. I'll give you your spanking later. I don't want to do his job for him while he's here," she said with a wink.
"Melissa!" I shout.
"Deacon!" she responds.
"Leave now!"
She just gets up with a chuckle and starts to leave. Not without murmuring something about applying lube first. She left before I could kill her though. It was rather disappointing.
The room was silent when she left. I was cursing myself for letting her leave. Now it would be awkward. Maybe I should jump out of the window.
"I brought you flowers," he said softly.
"What?" I managed to croak out.
"Flowers. For you," he said, like he was talking to a toddler.
"I know what flowers are," I said with a huff.
"Yeah, of course you do. I'm sorry for assuming you didn't. My apologies," he said, with a fake bow.
"I'll let it slide this time," I said with a fake scoff.
We stare at each other for a while before both of us burst out laughing. He makes his way towards my bed and I feel it dip. I wouldn't know if he's sitting on it or just trying to fool me by putting a boulder there in his place, because my eyes are on my lap.
"Deacon. Look at me," he said with dominance, but also comfort.
I looked up, and what I have been afraid of admitting to myself, I see in his eyes.
He lifts his finger and traces it along my cheek, causing shock to run through my body.
"God, you're beautiful," he said with a smile.
"Why are you doing this?" I ask, a little of my insecurity seeping through.
"I think you know why, Deacon."
"No, I don't. We don't even know each other," I said with a scoff.
"I know enough to know how I feel about you."
"No, don't say that. You don't mean it," I said, shaking my head.
"Yes, Deacon. Yes, I do," he said confidently.
"There are so many things that are wrong with this," I groan.
"Like what? Please tell me. I'll make it all right," he said, scooting closer.
"For one, I'm older than you."
"I don't care about your age. In fact, I'm grateful for it. You get more beautiful every day," he said, closing the gap more.
My heart starts to speed up.
"Your popularity, your position on the football team. You could lose all of your hard work," I said pleadingly.
"All that and nobody to show off to my so-called friends. To look to in the crowd when I score a touchdown. If I can't have both, I'd rather have you," he said while our hands are touching.
His breath is like a soft wind blowing against my face.
The tears start to well up in my eyes.
My last attempt to make him see the truth. That we won't be able to be together. No matter how much my heart is screaming to just drop my stupidity and kiss the living daylights out of him. My brain is showing me all the people that hate me, that told me nobody could love someone like me.
I look into his eyes and I know that this is my last excuse.
"You're a jock. You have these amazing good looks, you could get anyone you want, and I'm just… me."
The tears ran down my cheeks with my insecurity coming free and wreaking havoc in my mind.
"I can't argue with that."
And my heart breaks. I knew this was too good to be true. This was all just a big fat lie. People like me don't get people like him.
"Yes, I am good looking, and I probably could get anyone I want, but I don't want just anybody, Deacon. I want you. With all your sass. With your kind heart. Every single part of you," he said, closing the gap between us completely.
He kisses me.
I'd like to say it's like fireworks and there were bursts of lights flashing in front of my eyes, but that's not what happened. It was just a simple touch of lips.
I felt like a huge burden was lifted from my heart. All my insecurities, my faults, all disappeared into the air. Like I knew this was bound to happen but I wasn't allowing myself to let it happen. To be cherished. But he chipped away at every last one with that kiss. This kiss just broke my walls down completely.
He sees me for who I truly am now. For what I can be. And I want him to. I want him to see me. To make me feel safe. To hold me. To make all those small voices in my head go away.
I knew I was handing him something that I had never given to anyone. Control. Control over me. He could break me and build me up. But I didn't care. I wanted him to take it. Because, for the first time in my life, there's nothing I wanted more.
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