On The Outside - 24. Chapter 24

'Faggot'...

The sight of it being written on my locker like that...it stuck with me.

'Faggot'...

The sting of it...it really hurt me, ok? I might try to act like it was no big deal, but the truth is...whoever wrote that on my locker, probably someone who didn't know a damn thing about me at all...had reduced me down to what he thought was the lowest specimen of human kind, simply because I dared to love someone that I found beautiful. Someone who meant the world to me. I mean, am I supposed to suddenly deny my deepest, most sincere, feelings and look for ways to hate myself for the benefit of people who probably don't give a shit about me anyway? I mean, let's be honest...if I walked and talked and acted the way that they demanded I do in order to make their perspective of 'reality' more comfortable...would that really make their lives any less miserable? Me being me isn't what pissed them off in the first place, so how would 'fixing' myself have any effect on how they feel about themselves. They're going to be miserable pieces of shit no matter what. So why not just let that be their problem, instead of mine? No need for me and Drew to feel like garbage just because they're not emotionally prepared for a world that exists outside of their stupid rules and entitled views on what should and shouldn't be considered...'normal'.

'Faggot'. God, I'm so sick of having the people around me thinking that their judgement counts for shit. It doesn't. They don't matter as much as they think they do. And they hate me for pointing that out to them by simply being myself while they constantly FIGHT to force me to be somebody else. It must be exhausting for them to care soooo much about what 'awful' acts of injustice makes somebody else sooooo happy. I take comfort in that. I really do.

Because, even though I started out stressing over liking boys and panicking over what other people might think of me in the beginning...? i've found something in my love for Drew that trumps all of that other bullshit and just makes me appreciate the gift that he is in my life. He's something to guide me, to move towards, to fight for. And for the asshole who decided that he had to write the word 'faggot' on my locker in order to cut me down so he could feel better about himself? He's pathetic. He really is. I mean, what could he possibly benefit from hurting or bullying somebody else? I can't imagine that being satisfying in any way, shape, or form. it's just stupid. You look like a JACKASS! Live with it. And let it hurt you the way you wee hoping it would hurt somebody else. Because it's just stupid to think that you can disgrace and hurt me when I have love in my life. You're wasting your time and energy...not mine. So keep trying, assholes. I've seriously run out of reasons to give a fuck anymore.

I probably should have gone to class, but as I was walking away from my locker, with that disgusting label written across it like some kind of homophobic Swastika...I knew that I was going to be bothered and shamed by it for the rest of the day. Not to mention the embarrassment that would come from having to scrub that loathsome word off of my locker in front of other people as they passed me in the hallway. That's a humiliation in itself. So I decided to skip my next class and just go to the small convenience store across the store from the high school instead. It was mostly a place for us teens to go in for a couple of sodas and maybe a small bag of chips or something...but I was happy to know that they actually had an aisle with a few shelves full of home necessities and the like. Single roll toilet paper, lotion, lip balm...ahhh, there we go. Toothpaste. God, I hope Patrick was right about this!

When I got back to school, I didn't really worry about being caught by security or anything. The halls were empty, and even if I did get caught, what were they going to charge me with? Scrubbing hate speech off of my own locker? They's have t be a special kind of asshole to punish me for something like that.

I also made sure to get myself an SOS pad so I could do this as quickly as possible, and I just stared at the word for a moment...almost frozen in place.

'Faggot'...

Can you imagine what it's like to see that written on your locker at school...where everybody can see it? A word that was clearly meant to bully me into a place of such humiliation and embarrassment that I'd be willing to separate myself from the most beautiful, most sensitive, most incredible boy that I've ever known...ust to avoid ever being called that nasty word ever again. They want me to sacrifice who I am to be more like them. Why would I do that? Why would anybody?

I had gotten a few more paper towels from the boy's bathroom and wet them in the sink, and I used my finger to smear some of the toothpaste that I bought over the black marker words on my locker. Then I just started scrubbing them away. At first, it didn't look like it was working...but after a few minutes, I started to see the marker fade away, and with some determination and a little elbow grease...the word began to smear its way out of my sight. Thank God.

There was a part of me that was really worried at first. I mean...people were catching on. They were going to know about me, and my...'perversion' when it came to other boys. Everybody was going to get an invasive peek at the most private and humiliating parts of my entire teenage life, and there was a part of me that was absolutely terrified by that! It takes me back a couple of months to when I was sitting on the floor, trying to jack off to big breasted women, moaning and groaning in some cheesy porno film...trying to be straight. Trying to be 'normal'. My set of rules were supposed to protect me from stuff like this. They were meant to help me avoid anyone who might ever be suspicious of me being different. Being...'weird'. nobody was ever supposed to find out about who I really am inside.

But, you know what the craziest part of all this was?

As I was scrubbing that offensive word off of my locker, I felt like I was doing it more for Drew than I was for myself.

The look on his face when he saw it for the first time...? Oh God, it broke my heart. I didn't want him to think that any of this was his fault. It wasn't. We were happy together. Just because some faceless, insecure, asshole decided to be a pussy and write the word 'faggot' on my locker doesn't mean that our love for one another was any less legitimate than whatever predictably boring outcome he had coming in his mind-numbingly benign future. We're a couple. Why is that even any of his fucking BUSINESS??? Leave us alone. Go get a life. You know?

Instead...he spends his days worrying about who's dick I'm sucking. It's pathetic. More people need to see this for what it is, and understand how silly the whole thing is. Whoever felt the need to embarrass me like this...what would his life be like if nobody else thought it was funny? Who would he be if nobody cared?

I got rid of the letter 'F', and most of the letter 'A'...but my arms were starting to get a bit tired now. Plus, I had to go back to the bathroom to get a few more paper towels so I could tackle the two 'G's' next. Sighhh...this whole thing is so stupid.

My number one goal was to find Drew, though. Just...talk to him and let him know that I didn't blame him at ALL for people suspecting that there was something off about me. It really wasn't. I don't even care. Not as much as I thought I would before I had an actual boyfriend to fight for. I just...I need to know that he's ok. That he's beautiful. And that he's the best thing that has ever happened to me. Will he give me the chance to explain that to him, or will he just distance himself from me to the point where I end up feeling this emptiness in my gut until I simply can't take it anymore?

I HATE having my whole future and well being in his hands right now! I don't even have a say in this? How is that fair? God, Drew...I LOVE you! Please...love me back. Let's put this meaningless bullshit behind us and just...go back to being boyfriends again. I don't CARE what other people say about us! There was a time when I did, but that's all over and done with. Just come back to me. Give me a chance to prove that you mean more to me than their intimidating tactics could ever hope to destroy.

I just want us to be happy. That's all. Happy...

My fingers began to ache from pressing so hard against the locker. Water was streaming down, the toothpaste was foaming up, but this was taking longer than I thought it would. Whoever did this, they certainly put a lot of time and effort into making it hard to get rid of. And when I heard the school bell ring to dismiss students from their classes and send them on to their next lesson, I still had a few scrub marks on my locker and the letters 'O' and 'T' left over without much reason or context. It was just a harmful word on a locekr, right? Nothing that I was expecting anyone to see or pay much attention to. But as students started to leave their classrooms and walk past me, I felt a touch of humiliation, regardless....leaning back against the lockers to hide what was left of that cruel homophobic slur with my shoulder so I could, possibly, minimize every last bit of damage that came from just one written word. Ugh...I still can't believe that somebody really felt the need to do this to me. I mean...what is their point? Fuck them. Fuck them all.

I don't think anybody really took the time to see the remaining letters on my locker door. Thank you, Patrick, for the awesome advise. And when the next bell rang, I was able to finish scrubbing the remaining offense from the surface, only getting to my last class of the day late by a few minutes. And...that was it, right? I mean, they had their laugh, and they smeared my name with a bad word...so that should be the end of it, right? Are they done now? Can they just leave me alone now? Or are they so obsessed with me that they're planning to come back and do it all over again?

Is this a taste of what Drew has to live with every day of his life? The whispers, the awkward looks, the blatant attacks without any real rhyme or reason? Oh God...how did he put up with it for as long as he has? I mean, I'm big enough to defend myself if it really came down to a physical confrontation. I'm no 'bruiser' by any means, but I'd like to think that I could hold my own if it came down to me trading blows with some asshole bully who thought it was a good idea to target me. But Drew? i mean...he's so little. So sweet. How could anybody ever think about hurting him? Or kicking his books across the front lawn, or pushing him into a janitor's closet, or just roughly bumping his shoulder when he passed them in the hallway? I mean...who the fuck ARE these people who get a sick thrill out of making somebody else's life miserable? Who's breeding this loathsome species, and how can the rest of humanity put an end to it?

And even with everything that Drew has to go through...day after day...he's still worried about what kind of senseless drama that he might be bringing to MY doorstep!

Even in agony, plagued with unfair treatment...he's selfless enough to think about me before himself. And I get it. I totally get it. Because I feel the same way...and I'll fucking fight anybody who tries to keep us from being happy together. Because...FUCK those narrow minded assholes! If they had any happiness of their own, they'd be too busy to worried about the rest of us. Pathetic pieces of shit.

I made it through the end of the day, and I left school without seeing Drew at all. His absence left such a gaping hole in my heart. i had forgotten how empty a day without Drew actually felt until i experienced it again. it hurts. God, it hurts sooooo much!

As soon as I started walking home, the first thing that I did was try to call Drew's number to get him to talk to me. And he didn't answer me. He refused to pick up. I wish my name didn't pop up whenever I dialed his number, because he just made it a point to deny me access to his heart. And his heart is all I wanted. It's like he knew that talking to me would draw him back in and get us to be boyfriends again. But I don't think he wanted that. I think he was scared of it. And I just...I didn't want him to be scared of me anymore. My heart was right here, and it was all his if he wanted it. Please, take it. Please? This heart would be totally useless to me without him being a part of my life. I need him. I NEED him! Answer my call, Drew! Pick up the phone! God...I'm suffering without hering his voice. This is so unfair.

My mom noticed that I was a bit 'quiet' tonight. She tried to ask me a few probing questions to see if she could figure out what was bothering me so much...but I didn't really have anything to tell her. I mean, how can I possibly describe my misery over not hearing from Drew without the long and drawn out process of coming out of the closet to her in the first place. I can't just skip twelve moves ahead of the initial conversation that we need to have about...who I really am. I feel like I have SO much stuff to talk to my parents about before I can even approach the problem of me being so in love with someone who's scared to drag me down, simply by being my boyfriend. I'm so far behind. It would be a serious hassle to try to catch them up to current events now.

I'll try again.

Answer your phone, Drew. Come on! Please? Answer me! Answer, answer, ANSWER....

I got nothing.

I just laid back on my bed...squirming with the anguish of not knowing what was going through Drew's head tonight. Is he hurting? Does he feel guilty? Does he think that I resent him for what happened? I just wish that I could hold him in my arms and let him know that my love for him hasn't changed at all. That his heart meant more to me than some stupid grafiti on my high school locker. I wanted to soothe him and make him aware of the fact that he was all mine, and I was all his, and we could both enjoy this surreal fantasy together for everything that it was, for as long as we can hold on to it. He's the love of my life. Nothing that he's ever done could hurt me as far as my reputation in high school is concerned. not that it matters all that much to me anyway. I just want to love him. That's it. Let me love him and feel complete by having him smile at me once in a while. Or blush in my presence. Or randomly twirl his fingers around that sexy mass of light brown curls while he says my name in that soft, timid, voice of his. That's all I want. That's all I need.

Shit.

I'm going to try again....

His phone rings. One time. Two times. Three times.

No answer.

He's definitely ignoring me. I know that he can see my number on his phone. I know it. Why is he doing this? Is he mad at me? PLEASE, don't be mad at me! Or feel like you have to go to any extreme measures to protect me from the fallout of being labeled as...

A 'faggot'....

That word...that one word...scribbled on my locker when I wasn't around to defend myself...it had ruined everything that I was getting any enjoyment out of in my life. It was a threat to my very sense of self love, and my union with the one boy who made me feel so complete fro the first time our lips touched during that rainy night not long ago. I don't CARE about being a 'faggot'! I don't! I just want to be happy. And that means being with Drew! Just the two of us. nobody else.

I'm going to try calling him again...

One ring. Two rings. Three. Nothing.

My heart felt as though it was collapsing onto itself at that very moment. I can't reach out. I can't talk to him. He won't let me in. I felt so helpless at that moment. I even began to think about the fact that I might actually be hurting Drew by calling him so much, as I was sure that ignoring my calls was causing him some level of distress as well. So...should I stop? Will Drew think that I'm giving up on him if I do? Or...am I causing him even more pain by having him actively ignore my attempts to get in touch with him again? I mean, what do I do?

Seriously....

How do I fix this?