Jacob Matthews - 4. Chapter 4

Sam had always been easy-going, and we’d been platonic friends for a while now. We didn’t really have a whole lot of deep or intense conversations, as most of our interactions involved us ribbing on each other, or just friendly banter. On those rare few occasions that our conversations turned more serious, Sam was always reserved and thoughtful, like he always carefully considered the weight his words had, before throwing them out for the world to hear. That was another quality about him that I appreciated. I just hoped that this conversation would go the same way.

“Hey man, what took so long?” Sam enquired as I plopped my belongings down on the seat next to me.

“I just got caught up after class” I explained.

“Does you being late happen to have anything to do with you yelling that Tiffany was a raging bitch?” Sam asked incredulously with a devious smile on his face.

Of course, I should have known that the word would have gone around the school by now. These things don’t stay silent for long. I’m very doubtful Tiffany would have been the one sharing it, as it doesn’t exactly help her aesthetic, yet there were more than enough witnesses of the incident that it really could have been anyone in the class. Still, I was impressed by how this kind of talk spread like wildfire within the school. Even though Sam and I had not shared either Geography or English class, he’d found out just a few hours after it had happened. Luckily the ‘boyfriend’ part of her insult hadn’t been the main takeaway, as that wasn’t exactly information that I wanted travelling around the school, mainly because it wasn’t true, but also because I didn’t want that kind of attention. I’m not usually one of the people involved in these kinds of things. I tend to keep my head down and thoughts to myself, however that doesn’t mean I won’t stick up for myself, and it also doesn’t mean that I won’t get involved if a situation arises.

“Ahh, yeah let’s say that that had something to do with it” I laughed back at Sam. It was good we could joke about this. Sam’s easy-going nature was a great quality of his and one I really enjoyed. Yes, despite the fact that he’d had a short stint of ‘dating’ Tiffany, it hadn’t got in the way of our friendship, and we were still able to joke around and shit talk each other both during and after the relationship had run its course.

“What exactly about her prompted a fit of rage this time?” Sam enquired, in a polite, seemingly neutral tone. Obviously, this wasn’t the first time I’d had a rant about Tiffany. I just can’t help expressing how I feel, when I am passionate about certain topics. Even if that passion manifests itself in the form of hatred. While Sam didn’t feel the same ‘enthusiasm’ as I did with my disdain for Tiffany, he at least attempted to understand where I was coming from most of the time, or at least feigned so.

“She mentioned my Dad…” I stated, and Sam instantly dropped the joking demeanour. His jaw went taught and his eyes narrowed slightly.

“And how I was the reason he was dead” I breathed.

Sam’s whole body stiffened, and he let out a low noise, almost like an ominous hiss as his eyebrows crushed together in disapproval. His anger was palpable and if I didn’t know him better, he would seem almost menacing at this moment. I could see why he made a good rugby player, as he could be intimidating when need be. However, his unspoken defence of me softened my view of him, he was simply my best mate Sam, and that was that. We’d both backed each other up in the past, and been there for one another through thick and thin, so it was a given that we had each other’s backs. That was particularly emphasised by the events which happened this morning, which brought me back to the real reason we were here right now.

I could see the gears shifting internally for Sam, as Tiffany’s true persona was pushed further into the limelight. While he knew I disliked her, Sam attempted to keep things as amicable as possible between them, because he’s a better person than I am. I hadn’t seen Sam this way before. I’d seen stress, sadness, grief before, but never such anger in his features. Seeing his demeanour change during the course of the conversation I almost began to feel slightly bad for Tiffany, or at least what Sam’s opinion of her was. I guess I always knew what she was like, but he seemed to be discovering things about her which he didn’t like but were lurking beneath the surface all along.

“Don’t worry about that though. As you heard I put her in her place, at least for now. I’m sure there will be some kind of repercussion later, but for now that’s not important” I lamented. Sam’s fists unclenched and his shoulders relaxed as I said that. His fling with Tiffany was the reason that she knew all about my Dad anyway, as it was during that brief 3 week period that my dad passed away. When I honestly think about it, I’m pretty sure the reason their relationship ended was because Sam wanted to spend more time with me to support me, though he would never admit that. Along with the fact that during that time period she seemed to get jealous of the attention I was getting from Sam after my dad died – I don’t think that did her any favours in his eyes either.

“I’m more concerned about yesterday afternoon” I began uncertainly, looking up from my hands to meet Sam’s green eyes. I could see the tenderness there, as he took in my current state, obviously sensing my nerves around the scenario.

“Yeah, so am I. What happened and where did you go?” Sam quietly asked, leaving the conversation about Tiffany behind, and begging to discuss the real reason we were here.

“Uhh, well I heard what your mum said-“ I began.

“What exactly did you hear?” Sam interrupted.

“Well I heard her mentioning something about it not being safe, and that I had no friends and that I had to get out?” I meekly replied, with my voice inflecting at the end to make it seem like a question.

“Oh god. No man, that’s not what happened – but I can understand why you may have thought that” Sam took a deep breath and steadied himself, pausing to collect his thoughts. He seemed torn between frustration and sadness.

“Yes, mum was surprised when she heard what I said about getting you a boyfriend. When we spoke later that night, she said she left straight after as she felt awkward and didn’t mean to interrupt. Anyway. I ran in after her to explain, because I thought she had a negative reaction, so I wanted to smooth things over. She said she was shocked because it reminded her of her brother. I didn’t know until last night, but Uncle Tim is gay it turns out. Mum was mentioning to me that it just reminded her of when he came out, and that all of his friends at the time deserted him and he uhh…” Sam trailed off. He paused briefly unsure of how to continue, and took a steading breath before continuing.

“He had a difficult time with some people in the community back then. He was mercilessly tormented and attacked and he was not safe at school or around the town they lived in at the time. Once it was so bad, that he was hospitalised with a collapsed lung and 4 broken ribs. The whole situation was so distressing for him that shortly after the incident at the end of school, he moved to the other side of the country to effectively try and escape his tormentors and start his life anew.” Sam recounted, his eyes kind of glazing over.

“Mum said that it was a few years later that she first heard from him after the move, and he was doing ok. He’s never really been around much during my life, as I think being near here brings back those bad memories. The few times I have met him, he hasn’t really mentioned anything too personal to me and I guess I can see why after what happened when he was our age.” Sam finished up.

I didn’t speak right away. I got lost in thought, thinking about if history would repeat itself and if the same thing would happen if I decided to come out. I mean that must have been what, twenty years ago? Surely things have changed since then, but it was still heartbreaking to hear and made me nervous none-the-less.

Sam saw that I was still silent and followed up with the sequence of events.

“Anyway, she was explaining all that to me when the next thing I know dad came into the kitchen and said he’d just passed you on your way out and was wondering why you weren’t staying for dinner. He said you looked concerned on your way out” he finished.

Well that made a lot more sense. But still I had to be sure.

“So your mum is fine with me?” I questioned hopefully.

“Yeah man of course. So is Dad. They both have no problems with it. Mum was just concerned for you and scared for you after what happened with Uncle Tim. Dad even made sure that I was supportive of you and went on a tangent of how anything other than sticking up for you was completely unacceptable.” He laughed.

I knew I liked Rob for a reason. I mean I liked Steph too, but I think Rob and I were more on the same wavelength. Of course, he had nothing to worry about. Sam was fine. More than fine. I was able to successfully take a full deep breath and release it for the first time in twenty-four hours, as it felt like my lungs had finally been unclenched from being tightly grasped.

“Well… that’s a relief” I stammered out.

“But what happened to you?” Sam shot back accusatively.

“Ahh, I umm heard your mum, well at least snippets of it, and thought the worst. I figured she was telling you that you can’t be friends with me and that was that. I didn’t want to deal with that – I mean I couldn’t deal with that, so self-preservation just told me to get out. Once I got out of your place, I ran straight home and passed out on my bed I guess.” I recalled lamely.

“Dude I was freaking out. I tried calling to see where you went but your phone was off. I was even at your door knocking, but I guess you couldn’t hear it because you were asleep.” Sam slowly connected the dots out loud.

“After that I went to the park, down to the river, and any other place I could think of that we hang out at. But you’d left your car at my place, so I knew you couldn’t have gone far. I had no idea where you went and kept looking until my dad drove by after looking for me at close to midnight and picked me up to take me back home. I could barely sleep” he admitted, abashed.

Fuck. What did I do to deserve Sam. Not enough. But still hearing how all this played out from his end I had empathy for him. He was only ever trying to do the right thing by me, and he felt like it was his fault for this happening in the first place. He went out of his way to try and fix things for me, and make sure I was ok when all of this happened but had no idea what was going on because I acted impulsively at the time – out of fear. How could I have thought he would have done anything else but care for me. He was Sam. His sunken eyes and bags drew my attention once again, and while his messy hair was better than this morning, it was clear last night was rough for him. I don’t know how I lucked out getting a friend like him, but I guess fortune favoured me that day many years ago. I was moved, almost to tears, but controlled myself as I didn’t want to appear more pathetic than I did this morning, as I sidestepped around the table to hug Sam for the second time today.

“Thank you” I choked out as I gripped him in a bear hug, trying to convey what I could not convey in words alone. He gripped me back just as tightly with a barely whispered:

“Of course, man. Anything for you.”

Hearing those words was such a relief to me. I felt a huge weight off my shoulders, I could finally breathe again.

After our embrace we both sat back down where our conversation then devolved into spending the rest of lunch trying to plainly talk about anything boring and mundane pertaining to school. Before we knew it though, lunch was over, and we started to make out way back across the oval to the buildings.

“Now I have to text mum to let her know what happened. She forced me to promise I would let her know what happened to you after last night.” Sam said light-heartedly with a roll of his eyes as he took out his phone, “I think she likes you more than me”.

I felt the guilt and shame wash over me, but I appreciated his attempt at humour in the moment.

“Oh and good luck with your soccer tryouts this arvo too” Sam mentioned in an off-handed manner.

“Shit, I can’t. I have detention” I remembered. Sam looked at me incredulously.

“From the raging bitch thing” I reminded him.

“Wasn’t that in Geography with Miss Faith? I thought she loved you?” he inquired.

I guess he was kind of correct, but I would not blow Miss Faith’s cover story for getting me out of the tricky situation I found myself in. Maybe another day I would tell him, but I couldn’t break her trust after she explicitly asked for it.

“Well, I guess I’m one of the ‘naughty’ kids now” I shot back, as Sam sniggered.

“Mhm, whatever you say mate. Anyway, catch you after practice – if you’re not there I’ll just catch the bus home” he called out to me as we parted ways.

I grabbed my belongings for the next class which was… Maths. Great. Back to torture we go. Not to mention the assigned seating. Was that going to be part of the torture as well? I hadn’t made my mine up on that just yet.

I stumbled into Maths surprisingly on time, making my way to the assigned seat that Mrs Carol was diligently checking against a clipboard ‘map’ of the room she had taken from last lesson. Why exactly it was so important that we remain in exactly the same seats each lesson was lost on me, but I’m sure she justified it with some airy-fairy ‘collaborative-work-environments-fuels-better-learning’ bullshit. Boy, it sure felt good to be back to normal. I thought I must have used up all my emotional turmoil for the year yesterday, but at least my attitude towards pseudo-educational crap was unchanged.

In walked old mate. You know who I mean. Jacob. Or maybe I’ll just leave him as Jackson for now. He had a carefree smile plastered on his face, with green grass stains covering his shirt – likely from a lunch time game of pick-up. At least this time, as he sat, I realised I wasn’t wearing that god-awful spare shirt. I guess it was only fair for a little payback.

“Nice shirt” I shot familiarly at him.

He looked a little stunned as he curiously looked over at me. His carefree smile had all but faded from his face and I noticed a brief flash of tightness in his eyes, and his skin was slightly more taught near his temples. The only reason I picked up on this was because it was similar to how Sam looked when he was stressed out. Jacob, however schooled his expression quickly, so it was almost as if I had imagined it.

“Oh, so you’re actually going to speak to me this time?” he fired back. What was he talking about? Didn’t I speak to him at his locker just before? And yesterday when I ran into him, not once, but twice! Wait, did I though? Well we definitely spoke when I helped him with his locker but that was Mr Richard instigating that, so I had no choice. But that’s still speaking. As I started to overthink, I realised that I had not in fact had any verbal interaction with Jacob at all, except for the locker, up until now. It wasn’t for his lack of trying. I must have been too embarrassed with my ‘run-ins’ with him, but it made me think we were already on a level playing field when I hadn’t even spoken to him. Why on earth did I think we had some kind of rapport? I mean, the only rapport I realised we had was me thinking his existence was frustrating and solely to annoy me, while he probably incorrectly thinks I’m the clumsiest person on the planet. Was that look he had because of me? But I didn’t do anything. Wow I really am good at over-thinking things, I feel like the default method for thinking had been switched off for so long in my life that I couldn’t turn it back on. Stop thinking. Breathe. Reply.

I looked back at him to see him still waiting for a response – as I worried in a panicked manner how long it had been since he’d asked the question.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about ‘Jackson’, but you probably have to pay more attention to your surroundings,” I levelled at him, attempting to keep the conversation light and airy, when in reality I now had no idea where we stood with each other. I indicated towards his right hip, where the large smear of green was clearly evident.

He looked down and seemed surprised to notice its presence, and let out a deep chuckle, then mischievously grinned back at me with a glint in his eyes.

“Well I’d ask to borrow yours since clearly you like changing shirts so much,” he started, referencing the fact that I’d been wearing what was the equivalent of a garbage bag poncho the last time I was in Maths class with him.

“However I think yours might be a little too small for me” he finished triumphantly.

I sat, stunned. What the fuck gave him the right to go there? I was just making friendly conversation and banter, and he went straight in for the kill. I know in real terms I wasn’t ‘small’, I mean I was above average height for crying out loud. He obviously wasn’t talking about my height when he said that, and I think we both knew. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with what my body was like. I was relatively athletic, as I needed to be for soccer, and generally liked keeping in shape. Nor did I carry a slight frame, I was probably average, it’s not like my shoulders were tiny by any stretch of the imagination.

Jacob had, whether he realised it or not, stumbled upon one of my huge insecurities. One which I had obsessed over for as long as I had known. Most of the time I thought I was pretty good at just being me. I did what I wanted, said what I felt, wore what I liked and was content not trying to be anyone else but me. That’s more than I could say for everyone else at this school. Yet that being said, I still struggled on occasion when I looked in the mirror, thinking that I was not ‘good’ enough. For me, not being ‘good enough’ manifested itself in being big-chested and broad shouldered, with a perfect tan. Whenever I had my shirt off and looked in the mirror; I was hyper-critical of myself. I’m sure everyone is to a certain extent, but for me I had felt this way for a few years. I had been making steps towards being more and more ok with it, but then certain incidents would happen which would set me back a few paces. I really struggled to find a balance between having a positive self-image, and wanting to do self-improvement, at least as far as my physicality was concerned. I was never going to be one of those self-centred or image concerned social media whores, who had to take photos of every plate of food they ate, clock up about 100 selfies a day and generally make their life seem like a fairy tale. No. I’m not about that. Even though that isn’t my cup of tea, I still have my own quirks about myself and my body, which I was fighting to slowly learn to love about myself. For now though, the wound cut deep and I was reminded that yeah, I don’t have the visible biceps or the strong physique, instead my lean and defined frame was what I had to work with. Being reminded of all of this in the middle of school, and by the new guy no less, was like a slap in the face. Talk about taking a few steps back, it was a hit to my ego – which I didn’t care about, but it was also a hit to my self-confidence – which I wasn’t so keen on.

I recoiled visibly and responded with a choked sound somewhere between a grumble and a harrumph, as I flicked my eyes away from him and towards Mrs Carol, who had now started speaking.

“I don’t know why you have a problem with it though, I really think green is my colour. It suits me don’t you think?” Jacob punctuated my thoughts from my left.

As our eyes met again, he seemed like he was trying to control his face to not let out a smirk. I noted that, sure, I guess the green did at least go well with his blue eyes, but for the sheer audacity and cockiness to claim that a colour suited him, who does that. Confidence oozed from him and for a split-second I was jealous of that confidence, before I remembered that I was still annoyed at his nonchalant takedown of my appearance in one fell swoop.

Anyone could be that confident when they were built like a fucking grizzly bear. It’s not like it’s my fault that I can actually fit into my school uniform properly, unlike him. He was just being an ass because he knew he could get away with it, I’m sure any blows would just glance right off him and he wouldn’t notice in the slightest. For some reason I found that that irritated me. I’m sure it was because I just wanted to be able to point out his flaws like he could so easily point out mine.

For now though, it seemed like I had bigger problems. In the time it had taken me to have my internal dilemma, Mrs Carol had approached each table to hand out an assignment to each set of desks.

“Alright everyone, here’s your first assignment for the year,” she announced to a chorus of groans. I could understand why, it was only day two of the new school year. Also why was it an assignment? The only good thing about Maths was the fact that there were never take-home assignments, they had all been tests and exams up until this point.

“Alright, enough complaining. You’re going to have this workbook of questions which are quite involved and get more complex throughout the assignment,” She began as I looked to see the depth and details of the questions and balked. There were paragraphs. Paragraphs! Was this a Maths class at all?

“You will be required to complete the questions to the best of your ability then will have a 15 minute presentation at the end of the term to discuss how you came up with your approach and the solution to each of the problems” Mrs Carol explained. Oh god. This did not sound good.

“Also, to avoid the temptation of ‘borrowing’ each other’s ideas, each assignment will be on a different topic, with different questions. Some are easier than others, and the marking will be scaled based on the difficulty of the questions.” She added.

Nope. Not good at all. I was not good at Maths. I wasn’t terrible, but I wasn’t too far from it either. This is exactly not what I needed today. I looked down to take my copy of the assignment, just as Jacob grabbed the stapled bundle which was more on my side of the desk. There wasn’t another copy, I saw with frustration. As I looked up, about to ask to get my copy of the assignment, Mrs Carol announced one further instruction to the class.

“I almost forgot to mention, you will be working in pair for the assessment and the presentation” she informed us.

Really. Wow. Why me?

I looked to my left once again this lesson to see a meek looking Jacob unable to refrain himself from stifling a snort in a fit of laughter, with my reaction to this news clearly setting him off.

I hated everything about this. I hated Maths, I hated assignments, and I hated presentations. But most of all I hated the reaction the other half of my pairing had to my disgust. How on earth could I work with someone who was so irritating and seemed to take delight in rubbing me the wrong way.

It was going to be a long year, I thought sourly.