Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
18 Weeks of Twoey - 19. Week Three Friday September 19, 2014: Apology
To heal you must confront your demons first.
And the first thing I did today was meditate and relax myself, trying to reunite my inner being. When I felt more focused, I began toiling over an apology. I worked on the little speech in my mind, off and on, all day. As I was trying to justify my actions, or at least understand them, I realized there was a chunk of time I was not in control of myself. I sorta went berserk, as I already explained.
Now, I thought I always had my emotions reined in. I never got upset about anything. Being so out of control was really scary for someone like me. I was smart and understood sometimes one might need help from somebody who knew more about this kind of stuff. I knew we had these hormones that could cloud our thinking, and maybe that’s all this was. But I might have to find a person who knew a little bit more about how guys my age reacted to stuff. Hey, teenagers fight. I mean, I'm only a normal teenager, but I knew when things weren't right. And things were not right when I was punching Biggy. Twoey’s mom was some kind of psychologist/writer person. I thought maybe next week I would drop in on her -- when Twoey wasn't around, of course.
I spent the day listening to Sam’s music, working on my apology and thinking about Raskolnikov in Crime and Punishment. What a lethal combination.
I realized Gary had a race today and there would be no News of the Day. I didn’t really need one. Any further news on the Kathy front would simply make me more furious with the situation. I’d be back in school Monday. Hopefully I’d get it all sorted next week. Right now, I felt helpless. There was nothing I could do to change it. I jumped between angry feelings and sad feelings, sometimes within minutes of each other. Before it developed into another headache, I went back to crafting my apology.
Finally, it was almost time for school to be out. I knew it would take about fifteen minutes to walk to Biggy's house and I knew he'd be home immediately after school, because he had to be back by about five thirty for the bus.
I got to his door and knocked. A lady -- his mother, I was sure -- answered the door. Suddenly I didn't know what to call him. We called him Biggy, but his name was Brian. There was this long pause while she looked down at me like I was some kind of slimy snail on the sidewalk!
“Is Brian here?”
She turned and yelled, “Biggy, some kid's here to see you.” She didn't ask me in.
After a few seconds, Biggy appeared as she vanished.
“What do you want?”
His abrupt hostility caused me to totally forget everything I was about to say.
“Biggy, I need to apologize to you. Can I come in for a minute?”
He stared at me with, it seemed, a sneer. “What is this, part of your punishment?”
“No. This is something I simply have to do. Can I please come in?”
“Why do you want to come in? Just say it there.”
“No. I want to talk to both you and your mother.”
I hadn’t planned to do this. Suddenly it seemed a necessary thing to do, especially after the look she gave me. He paused, sort of squinted, looked me over and finally decided.
“Okay, come in.”
He showed me to a chair in the living room while he sat on the sofa.
“Mom, could you come in here?” Mrs. Biggs came back in and sat on the sofa too.
While she was on her way, I had a chance to look at Biggy's face more closely. Although he was healing, there was no doubt I bashed it plenty! Gary's description of a few bruises was clearly meant to make me feel better.
I looked at her and said, “I'm David Megal. I'm the one who punched your son.”
From the look in her eyes, I think she knew all along exactly who I was. Okay, my rehearsed speech was now completely out the window!
I could only say what was on my mind in a series of simple statements, cuz I couldn’t think more than three words ahead.
I looked at his mother. “I've been home all week, suspended and naturally grounded. I've been doing a lot of thinking. I feel really sick about what I did. It’s simply not me. When the thing happened in the cafeteria, I didn't even know what it was. Honestly, when I looked over, my friend Twoey had gotten up and he blocked my view. All I saw was him crashing back down onto his lunch tray with blood on his face. I assumed Biggy had punched him. I've been told it’s not what happened. But I didn't know it at the time. I thought my friend was punched and I saw his blood. I got up to defend him. It's all I was thinking at that moment.”
“But what happened next, I can't tell you -- and this is what has me most upset. You see, I totally lost control of me. I usually pride myself in staying rational and in control in everything I do. Somehow I lost it, I guess ...adrenaline, hormones, whatever. I only learned what happened from what other people told me later. I don't remember any of it.”
Then I looked at Biggy. “And now, seeing your face, I've got a feeling they probably didn't even tell me everything. Firstly I want to apologize to you, Biggy. You should never have been suspended, because you didn't fight. I slugged you without thinking, and that’s not right either.”
“Biggy, we've never had an issue with each other in all our years together since kindergarten. I can't tell you how bad I feel and how upset I am with myself. I hope you can forgive me.”
“Next, I want to apologize to you, Mrs. Biggs. I know how terrible my parents would feel if I came home from school with bruises on my face. I can only guess how hard it was for you. I feel really awful it was me and my fault, because I never, ever do anything like that. Lately lots of things have been sort of bothering me and I don't know if it's teenage hormones, or if I've got some kind of problem, but I don't like it. Not one bit. I know I have to see somebody to talk about these anger issues. But I've never had anger issues before, and I really don't even know where to begin.”
The look on her face softened quite a bit while I was baring my soul and she actually came over and put an arm around me! She thanked me for being very honest and said she could tell I was brought up to be a polite boy. She suggested I start with seeing the school psychologist. “Maybe he can spot something, or at least help you get back in the right direction.”
I told her I didn't even know the school had a psychologist. She laughed and said all schools did. I decided I'd make an appointment to see him first thing Monday. Then she left us alone.
“Biggy, I know you have to get ready for the game. I meant every word I said. Good luck tonight. I wish I could be there and root for you, but I’m still grounded, maybe till I’m fifty.”
Biggy laughed. Then he smiled!
“David, we’re good. About the game, I only hope I get in for a couple of plays. Ron’s lots better than me. Maybe if it’s a blowout coach will give me some experience in the fourth period.”
It was really cool of Biggy to say we were good. It was also the first time I felt a little better all week. As I promised Tommy’s mother, I went straight home and back to my room. I spent a couple hours reading some social and only wished I had ‘brother Google’ back, to allow me to do some research. I hoped to him back before Monday. I had a feeling Burch would try and stick it to me. He was too small a man to resist the opportunity.
My other brother, Tommy, delivered supper and also ate his own with me. We made a table of my bed and chewed some cardboard mac ’n cheese. At least it was edible as long as you drowned it with enough Ketchup, which we each did.
“You’re gonna get un-grounded Sunday. I snooped in on mom and dad talking. She’s only gonna let you take Kathy to the movies tomorrow though. She told dad it was ‘healthy’ for ya ...haha. He’s tryin’ to get her to let you run tomorrow. She ain’t buying that one yet.”
“Thanks Tommy. You’re my private FBI ...hehe. She really let you eat with me?”
“Well, I tried to get you back downstairs with us, but this was like my consolation prize. Ain’t you never seen me get all shaky and cry before? I do it real good.”
“Ha! You better not try it with me. I know your little secret now.”
“So you and Biggy kiss and make up?”
“Yep. We’re friends again. He’s really not a bad guy. For some reason I never hung out with him before.”
“Go to the weight room.”
“Huh?”
“My friend Mark’s brother says Biggy’s always in the weight room. Like he don’t got no other classes.” Tommy started laughing really hard.
“I don’t even know where the weight room is. I’ll have to check it out. I have study hall sixth. I’ll get a Lav pass and do some prowling.”
“You’re weird. Stalk the girl’s locker room if yer gonna prowl anywhere.”
We shared the next half hour doing exercises and I decided to hit the shower and then the bed. My mind was a lot less troubled as I drifted into dreamless sleep.
Twoey
Nels, Gary and Sam were in an animated conversation -- argument? -- on the walk to school today. I was walking next to Danny, expecting to get frostbite on my right side. But I was pleasantly surprised. Danny started to talk to me on the way to school! Whew ...I thought he might have been done with me forever.
“Hey Twoey, I’m sorry.”
“About?”
“I’ve been sorta missed-pissed at you but I was wrong. The more I racked about it the more I got it. I know you can’t say nothing about this stupid-cupid plan those morons are hatching. I know you don’t like it either.”
“Thanks Danny, and you’re right. I hope neither David nor Kathy will get hurt.”
“Oh boy, somebody’s really gonna get roasted-toasted. But let’s make a deal.”
“Sure, what?”
“We never say ‘I told you so’ to Gary or Nels. They’ll figure it out all by themselves. It might take those blockheads a month, but they will, eventually. Let’s put all our effort into saving David. You know he’s gonna blame himself and over-stink-think all this shit.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m with you.”
“Good. Now let’s hope Sam’s got his A-game going.” We both chuckled as we watched Sam getting even more demonstrative in front of us.
I went back to talk with Kathy again before math class. She probably thinks I'm hitting on her in David's absence, haha -- if she only knew. But at least I kept away from Terri. David will be back Monday to take his usual seat and act as a buffer between us.
Kathy asked, “Are you and Erik becoming friends?” I wasn't aware she even knew Erik.
She continued. “He and I were sort of friends in grade school, but we don't see each other much anymore. I only asked, because I noticed you driving off with him after school Wednesday.”
What do I say?
“I think we're becoming friends, but I think he really wants me to join the wrestling team.” What a great excuse David gave me!
She laughed and said, “Oh the poor wrestling team! They need lots of recruits.” I didn't tell her the kind of wrestling we were doing ...hehe.
During PhysEd both Matty and Erik seemed to be fighting over who got the best position holding my body. I was sure they were joking around, but it made me wonder if Erik might become upset if he knew about my sleepover plans with Matty. But then I figured he wouldn’t. I mean, why would he? We only fool around. If he didn’t like it, tough. I was gonna have as much fun as I could during my practicing-gay-boy learning period. I’d worry about relationships later. Jesus, I was only fifteen!
There was a Cross Country race today, which meant I went straight home. I wondered how they would do without their star runner? Anyway I got a chance to get all my weekend homework finished. Now my mind could be clear for the sleepover at Matty's. I was sort of excited about the prospects. I hoped he was gonna actually teach me and not merely expect me to know what I was doing. I’ll be extremely nervous and probably won’t even be able to get hard.
You didn’t believe me, did you? I’m hard already.
- 22
- 2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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