Storms - 42. Loz

My new form tutor put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She was a petite blonde woman whose head barely reached my shoulder, so I thought it must have looked odd.

‘All right, settle down, everyone! This is your new classmate Lawrence—’

‘Loz,’ I interjected. ‘I go by Loz.’

‘I’m sorry, Loz. This is Loz, he’ll be joining us starting today. I’m sure you’ll all be friendly and welcoming to him.’ She smiled sweetly and I was sure I wasn’t imagining some of the frankly soppy looks a few of the male elements of the class gave her. I suppose if I had been straight I might have been into her, too. She was still in her twenties. ‘Go take that free seat over there, next to Shawn.’ She pointed. ‘Why don’t you show Loz around later, Shawn?’

‘Yes, Miss O’Brien,’ said the boy named Shawn.

I went over and sat down in the empty seat next to him and he smiled at me. He was cute, with auburn hair and bright blue eyes and freckles. I smiled back and then looked away, trying not to blush.

After Miss O’Brien had finished registration, Shawn turned to me. ‘Hi,’ he said, extending a hand. ‘I’m Shawn.’

I shook his hand. It was smaller than mine, and soft, but his grip was firm and he smiled brilliantly. ‘I know,’ I said. ‘I’m Loz.’

‘I know,’ he echoed, then laughed. ‘What subject have you got now?’

‘Oh, er . . .’ I pulled the schedule they had given me that morning out of my bag. ‘English.’

‘Oh, cool. You’re staying here, then. Me too.’

‘Yeah?’ I smiled. ‘Good.’

‘I’ll give you the tour at dinner.’

I nodded. ‘Great!’

‘So, did you just move here or what?’ he asked.

‘Oh, er, no. I live a little ways away, actually. I . . . had to change schools. It’s kind of a long story.’ I hoped he would take the hint and leave it at that.

‘You’ll have to tell it some other time,’ he said. His smile was gentle and kind. I instantly liked him.

We had separate lessons after English but decided to meet up by the front doors after so he could show me around. Shawn showed me where the library was, the staff room and offices, the nurse, the guidance counsellor, and a few other important bits, before taking me to the refectory.

‘This is, obviously, the most important place of all,’ he said, flashing another brilliant smile. We grabbed trays and queued up. ‘Pretty standard fare for a school refectory,’ he said once our plates were full, ‘but the dinner ladies are pretty nice. Come on, you can sit with my friends.’

He led me over to a large table where six boys and five girls were having their dinners. ‘Hey, everyone,’ he said as we approached, and they all greeted him enthusiastically. Shawn, it seemed, was popular. ‘Guys, this is Loz. He just started. Be nice to him, okay?’

‘Hi, Loz!’ said one of the girls with a wave. ‘I’m Mia.’

Shawn sat down and I sat next to him. ‘Hi,’ I said.

They each introduced themselves to me in turn and then resumed conversation. I sat quietly and listened, eating my fish fingers. Occasionally, one of them would address me and I would answer.

‘Do you like it here, Loz?’ asked a boy named Dominic.

‘So far, I guess. Haven’t really been here long enough to be sure.’

‘Is it different from your old school?’ asked Shawn.

‘Bit smaller,’ I said. And then, without thinking, ‘A lot whiter.’ The moment after I said it, I wanted to just evaporate, and I looked up, noting Lucy’s dark skin and long braids with colourful glass beads in them. ‘I mean, that’s not a good thing! Not that this isn’t a good school, just—’

But Lucy grinned. ‘I know, right? This place is super white. Was it more multi-cultural at your old school?’

I nodded. ‘Yeah. Er, I’m sorry that just popped out, that was a weird thing to say.’

‘Maybe, but you’re not wrong,’ said Shawn. ‘I transferred to here year before last. Before that, I went to a school with a wider demographic, too. Gets boring when most people are so fucking English.’

Conversation resumed and I stared down at my plate, still embarrassed, until they spoke directly to me again.

‘What’s your favourite subject?’ asked Mia.

‘Oh, er, I dunno. PE, maybe.’

‘Yeah, you look strong,’ said a boy named Mathew with some awe in his voice. ‘I’ll bet you’re great at sports.’

I shrugged. ‘I’m okay.’

‘Which sports do you like best?’ asked Dominic.

‘I dunno,’ I said again. ‘Rugby, maybe? I like hockey, too.’

‘You’re certainly built like a rugby player,’ said Shawn, and he reached over to grasp my upper arm through my maroon school sweatshirt, squeezing my bicep. I flinched away. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Sorry, I should have asked.’

‘It’s okay,’ I said, blushing. ‘Sorry, it was just . . . sudden.’ I hadn’t expected him to touch me. And I hadn’t expected myself to want him to touch me. My first day of school and I was already getting a crush? Too soon! my brain screamed at me. You only just accepted that you’re gay, get a hold of yourself! He’s probably straight, anyway.

‘So you’re not into football, then?’ said Dominic, and I was glad for the change in subject.

‘I don’t mind it. My brothers are mad about it, though.’

‘What’s their team?’

‘Darren likes Chelsea, George likes Crystal Palace. They . . . they fight over it . . . a lot . . .’ I trailed off. George had left home the day before New Year’s Eve. He’d been lucky to find a new place so quickly. The two of us hadn’t spoken since Boxing Day. Thinking about him hurt.

When we were finished, Shawn and I left the refectory together. ‘You’re pretty quiet, aren’t you?’ he observed as we walked out into the corridor.

I shrugged. ‘I’ve never really been good at talking to people I don’t know. Or to anyone, I guess. I’m shit at people.’ I grimaced. ‘Sorry.’

‘I think you did fine,’ he said. ‘Nothing wrong with being quiet. Wish more people listened instead of just talking all the time. And you were listening, I could tell.’

‘I guess.’

‘I like you, Loz.’ He smiled at me. ‘Think we can be friends?’

The question felt sudden and I met his eye. ‘Er . . . yeah.’ I returned his smile, slowly. ‘Yeah. I’d like that.’

* * *

I took the bus home. My new school was almost forty minutes away. The commute was a big change, after being used to being able to just walk to school in ten minutes. It meant I had to get up early and be home late, but then I had no one to blame but myself. I had no intention of complaining. I didn’t have the right to.

As a result of this commute, both Dad and Darren were already home when I got in. I found them both in the kitchen. ‘Hi, son. Dinner’s almost ready.’ Dad smiled at me.

I sat at the kitchen table next to Darren, who ruffled my hair. ‘Hey! How was your first day?’

‘Not too bad. Seems a nice enough place. Teachers are okay. I think half the school is in love with my form tutor, Miss O’Brien.’

‘Yeah? She hot?’ Darren grinned.

I shrugged. ‘They seem to think so.’

‘Ah, yeah.’ Darren looked mildly uncomfortable for a moment. ‘Sorry, still getting used to this whole, er, gay thing . . .’

I shook my head and laughed. ‘It’s fine.’

‘So, did you . . . meet any cute boys, then?’ he asked, and I looked away, blushing. ‘You did! Didn’t you?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I mumbled. ‘Not like he’s gonna be into me anyway, even if he is gay.’

‘How do you know?’ said Dad, pulling the pizza out of the oven. ‘Unless you try, I mean.’

It felt so weird to be having this conversation with my family, who up until very recently had acted like total homophobes. People change, but I didn’t think they’d change this quickly.

‘It’s not gonna be my first priority, anyway,’ I said. ‘I need to get used to the place, the people, you know . . . settle.’

‘That’s really mature of you, little bro,’ said Darren, smiling. ‘Proud of you.’

‘How about you?’ I asked. ‘Did you see Sandra today?’

‘Yeah . . .’ Darren looked suddenly subdued. ‘I don’t think it’s gonna work out.’

‘Why not?’ asked Dad, setting the pizza down on the table. ‘I thought things were going well.’

‘Before Christmas, yeah. But she was kind of ghosting me over New Years, and today she just acted weird. I dunno, I think she’s shagging someone else.’

I scoffed. ‘What a bitch.’

He shrugged. ‘If she doesn’t want me, I’m not gonna go pining over her or anything. It’s her loss.’

‘A sensible attitude,’ said Dad and sat. We each grabbed a slice of pizza. ‘I’m glad your first day went well, Loz. It seemed like a decent school.’

‘I think it is.’

‘Do you miss your old one?’ asked Darren.

I considered this for a moment. Then I said, ‘No. There’s not really anything for me to miss. I mean . . . I didn’t exactly have any friends. And I think . . . I met a guy today who said he wanted to be my friend, so that’s a good start, right? Long as I don’t fuck it up in some way.’ Like by stupidly coming on to him.

‘You won’t,’ said Darren, sounding confident. ‘This is Loz 2.0, right? The new and improved, complete with supportive family and without internalised homophobia.’

We all laughed and began to eat. Darren was right. This was a fresh start. I could do this. I could live and make friends and behave like a normal, healthy teenager. At least I hoped I could.

* * *

A few days later, I was on my way home from the shops when I heard someone call my name. Turning, I saw Jason trotting towards me. I groaned internally. He was just about the last person I’d want to talk to right now.

‘Where have you been?’ he said when he caught up with me.

I shrugged. ‘Around.’

‘Why haven’t you been at school?’

‘Got expelled.’

Jason frowned. ‘Over the Patrick thing?’

‘Sort of.’ I really didn’t want to talk about it. I’d never tell him the truth, of course. I’d have to make something up if he pushed.

He didn’t. ‘Did you hear?’ he asked instead.

‘Hear what?’

‘Hartman’s gone.’

‘What?’ I found myself gaping. ‘Gone? Why?’

Jason shrugged. ‘I dunno. Something about some family or something. Doesn’t matter. Good to be rid of the little faggot.’

I clenched my fist. ‘Don’t call him a faggot.’

Jason shook his head. ‘I don’t get you. One minute you’re with us, the next you’re, like, defending that little fucker. Like, what’s your problem? Way you’ve been acting you’d think you’re the fucking faggot!’

In spite of myself, I laughed. The past few weeks had been the big ‘coming out’ time, after all, and I wasn’t even in that school anymore. At this point, who the fuck cared? ‘So what if I am?’

He stared at me for what must have been a full ten seconds before speaking. ‘You what?’

‘You heard me. I’m a fucking faggot. Go tell all your friends, I don’t care.’

He shook his head in disbelief. ‘What the fuck? Is everyone queer all of a sudden?’

‘Piss off, Jason,’ I said. And with that, I turned and walked away, leaving him gaping. That had felt oddly satisfying.

When I got home, though, the implication of what he had told me sank in. Daniel had moved away. Could it be because of me? I went into the kitchen and put away the shopping. Dad made small talk, but I wasn’t paying attention. Instead, I excused myself and went to my room.

Darren slept in George’s old room now, and I had ours to myself. It was the bigger one, and I had protested at first. I felt like Darren deserved the bigger bedroom. He was older. But Darren argued that he’d be moving out before me so it made more sense for me to have the bigger room, and I had relented.

It was nice to have my own room. I could be alone, could get off whenever I liked. Now I shut the door and lay down on my bed, on my back, staring at the ceiling. Maybe I really had fucked everything up. Maybe the damage I had done had been irreversible. Had what I did caused Daniel to move away? To leave his friends behind, and Michael? The thought that I had fucked things up for him when he finally had something made me feel sick and angry with myself.

If it was my fault and he was gone, how could I hope to redeem myself? Was there someone I could ask why he left? No. I didn’t have any right to try and get information on Daniel. And I had to stop obsessing over it. Over him. What was done was done, I couldn’t change it.

But still, I couldn’t help feeling miserable. Daniel deserved better.