Be Myself! - 14. Reality Shock

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I should have dreaded the sight of my house approaching at the end of the street. I had lied to my parents, after all. I should be fearing their questions about what I had gotten up to during the ‘school trip’, which they believed had been nothing more than an excuse for me to have ‘intimate moments’ with a new, secret girlfriend. Yet, despite all this hard evidence of my impending doom, I remained consistently cheerful right up to the moment I crossed the front door, where I found my parents eagerly waiting my return.

“How was your weekend, Oscar?” My mother asked as a way of greeting. She was smiling even though she had her arms crossed over her chest. On the other hand, my father’s posture was oddly relaxed, but his face was expressionless.

“It was ok. I learned some useful things.” I answered, keeping in mind I was supposed to talk about a ‘school trip’. It was only a couple of seconds later that I realised I had managed to produce a statement ambiguous enough to also fit my parents’ expectation about the kind of ‘learning’ I was getting. The realisation made me blush furiously, which thankfully ended up helping to corroborate my parents’ ideas more than anything else.

“Oh, good. You must be feeling tired. Take a shower and join us for dinner.” My father instructed in a carefully constructed neutral face. He did not wait for a reply to leave the landing, followed closely by mum. Relieved that I would not have to give any more explanations, I did as I was told.

Dinner was a surprisingly pleasant affair. My parents spent the whole meal exchanging knowing glances, but made no comment about my weekend adventures (or their expectations of them). Instead, they filled me on what had been happening while I was away and reminded me I should start my revision plan soon if I wanted to be adequately prepared for the exams. I felt an odd sense of security then; it seemed things were slowly returning to normal: the usual dinner conversations, the usual pressure for academic excellence, even the usual remarks about how our neighbours were living the most unhealthy life-stile and urgently needed to lose weight.

Later that night, alone in my bedroom long after my parents had fallen asleep, my thought returned to Olivia and everything we had done merely twenty-four hours earlier. It was hard to believe we had gone from complete disaster to such an incredible experience just by talking to each other. I suddenly missed her company, her warm body close to mine as we both drifted to sleep in a decidedly uncomfortable position that we insisted was the best thing in the world. I remembered her body, her ass wiggling in a cute and yet sexy way when she showed her enthusiasm for blowjobs; and the blowjobs themselves. An avalanche of thoughts followed, mostly memories from the previous night, but also ideas for future ones.

There was a surge of endorphin, and sleep came easily after that.

(...)  

Any cheerfulness that still lingered from my time with Olivia was dramatically dissipated on Monday morning, however. I had been sitting with my girlfriend and Hannah waiting for the bell when Edward came running towards us, his face even more panicked than I had ever seen him.

“Guys, you need to come to the assembly now!” He cried, stopping to recover his breath. “The Headmistress wants to make an announcement and wants everyone there as soon as possible.”

“But it’s still ten minutes before the bell, what for?” Hannah asked, raising an eyebrow. Edward looked like he had just ran a marathon, but she did not seem very impressed.

“It’s about Henry. She told dad when he came in this morning.” Edward spoke with great effort between desperate gasps for breath. “Ariadne is going to tell Helena. We must go.”

“What happened?” Olivia asked, concerned. Edward’s tone had made it obvious that whatever had happened to Henry could not have been anything good.

“The Headmistress will tell you. Let’s go.” Even though Mr Smith’s son was still breathing in the desperate gushes of someone with severe lack of oxygen, he urged us to run to the auditorium where our weekly assembly was held. Students from all years were already gathering inside, some looking very confused and others, disturbed. Helena and Ariadne somehow found us among the crowd and we took seats at the back, where fewer people would stare at us. Jean was nowhere to be seen, but it was far from being an issue at the moment.

“It’s not good news, is it?” Olivia asked Ariadne and Edward, sounding very much like she was already hurt by the answer. The duo dropped their heads, avoiding our gazes.

“No. It’s really bad.” Ariadne finally answered. She inclined her body towards Helena, who hugged her tightly. We did not have the chance to ask for more details, though, because the Headmistress called everyone’s attention on the microphone.

“HeHello everyone, and thank you for gathering here at such short notice. I wanted this assembly to start earlier than usual because I have something very important to tell all of you.” The moment she opened her mouth there was an immediate change in the room’s atmosphere. The auditorium plunged into the most complete silence, as if her voice had the power to freeze everyone’s vocal chords. The impact of her words was such that it was entire possible some had even forgotten to breath. “On Wednesday one of our students was brutally attacked on his way home from school. He was sent to hospital and needed emergency surgery.”

Our little corner was suddenly filled with dreadful agony. Henry had been hurt. Badly. We exchanged glances, feeling each other’s fear and anxiety spread around like fire. Nearby other students were beginning to look shocked and horrified too.

“And do you know why this happened?” The Headmistress carried on. Edward and Ariadne could not look at us; the girl had tear trails in her face. “Do you know why someone thought it would be a good idea to force a young boy through so much pain and suffering?” The Headmistress looked expectantly at the crowd, but no one dared make a sound. Some already knew the answer, and hated themselves for it because it meant they were aware of the cruelty around them and were powerless to stop it. Those who were still clueless would later hate themselves for being so oblivious to it all. “It happened because there are people out there who feel uncomfortable, threatened even, by the simple idea that a man can love another man or that a woman can love another woman; people who believe this kind of love is wrong and must be corrected no matter what. These people committed a crime that day; a crime of extreme hatred motivated by their ridiculously sexist assumptions about how a man should behave.” The Headmistress paused to observe the hoard of petrified students in front of her. They still clung to her every word, as if bound by a spell. “This country recognises this kind of violence for what it is: homophobic hate crime. And it pleases me enormously to say this school does so too.”

For a brief moment I thought there was going to be some wild cheering from the students. Her speech was certainly as rousing as those of passionate political rallies, captivating even those students whom I never thought would care about such a thing. Maybe it was because she was talking about a fellow student and they felt her words hit home particularly hard. She made it seem like it could have been any of them, or rather any of us.

“As your Headmistress, but first and foremost as a fellow human being, I cannot allow these disgusting crimes to happen to those I must protect. I do not know who is responsible for this attack yet, but I know it was a group of your fellow students. They are probably among you now, pretending to care about what I say. So you better listen to this: I will find out who you are, and will do all I can to ensure you get the appropriate retribution.”

The students, who until then seemed like a homogenous sea of anxious heads, broke their unity to glance at everyone in their line of sight. Some looked like they were trying to bust a criminal with their gazes, as if by looking hard enough the culprits would be shamed into revealing themselves there and then.

“From now on this school will implement an anti-bullying program in order to promote acceptance, inclusion and unity among us all. If you don’t think it’s the school’s job to teach you these things, I am not sorry to say you should find another place to study. One of my students got seriously hurt; the minimum I can do is work towards making sure he is the last. But for this I need your help. You are my students too. You can support each other. You can look beyond your silly prejudices and offer your hand to a fellow classmate in need. We all can, and we all should. You will have more details about this in you PSE class. This assembly is over.”

After such a stunning speech, the students slowly got up and left the hall. Most of them seemed to be in some kind of mental stupor; like beings who saw the real world for the first time after spending all their lives looking at shadows in a dark cave. Despite the general gloomy feeling, there was also a sense of strong unity emerging among the student body, the kind of ‘if you mess with one of us, you mess with all of us’ mentality that would not seem out of place in a Hollywood movie. And yet, there it was, as tangible as the hand I felt grabbing my arm on my way out of the auditorium.

“Oscar, wait.” A familiar voice called, making me stop in my tracks more from fear than desire to face him.

“Brandon? What are you doing?” I asked, mortified. His hand was firmly holding my arm so that I would not go anywhere even if I could. It took me a few panicked seconds to realise he was not there to punch the gayness out of me like he once tried to. In fact, he seemed strangely subdued, just as affected by the assembly as I had been.

“I just want to tell you that it wasn’t me. I know I tried to hurt you before and all that. Don’t get me wrong, I still think you’re a fag and an arsehole for lying to us all this time, but I have my standards. I would never let things get this far. Whoever did this to your friend is the most despicable scum ever, so if at any point you want to take revenge, I’ll be glad to help.” He said, winking conspiratorially at me.

“Thanks…” I blurted out after some struggle to get my tongue working properly. It was hard to believe what I had just heard, so hard I was having trouble processing it properly. Brandon had punched me in the gut when I last tried to talk to him; he admitted to still not liking ‘fags’. It made no sense for someone like him to offer to avenge Henry. “How did you know it was my friend?” I asked, realising that the only reason I knew who the Headmistress had been talking about was because Edward had told us it was about him. Henry’s name had not actually been mentioned during the Headmistress’s speech.

“Who else could it be? Aren’t you hanging out with the gay club now?” He shrugged, acting like this small detail was too obvious to miss.

“Yeah, I guess…” Everyone who knew me (which since Jean’s appearance and the scandal over my sexuality meant ‘the whole school’) would have noticed that I used to hang around a shy guy who had not been seen since Wednesday. It was not that difficult to join the dots.

“Good. See you around, then.”

“See you.” Brandon left after giving me a pitiful look, like he was sorry we were no longer friends, or at least sorry for me because I was stuck with my new friends. The second option was more likely. Whichever way it was, despite everything he said it did not help me feel any safer approaching him out of my own will again. I could still feel the ghost feeling of his hand on my arm, and could not help but think that this hand was about to drag me to a punishment not unlike my father’s.

“What was that?” Hannah came up to me soon after Brandon disappeared in the sea of students. Olivia and Helena were just slightly ahead of us, but Edward and Ariadne had most likely gone to class already. “Did that guy do anything to you?”

“No… no…” My head was spinning fast, trying to get around the fact that Brandon had just been civil to me after weeks of animosity and cold shoulders while at the same time trying to get rid of the memories about my father. “He offered to beat up Henry’s attackers.”

“Oh, who would’ve guessed his brawns could be useful for something…” Hannah rolled her eyes, sarcastic. I almost laughed, but then remembered it was Hannah whom I was speaking to, which meant that I had better stay silent if I valued my life. “You should hurry up or you’ll be late to class.” I nodded, following her towards Olivia and Helena.

“Come on, we will be late.” The blond called me, tugging my arm and dragging me towards the music rooms. I barely had time to wave goodbye to Olivia, though I could tell she was stifling a laugh at the scene.

(...)

Having double music first thing after the Headmistress’s speech helped me organise my thoughts better than other subjects would. We were focusing on performance because of the upcoming exams, so it was easy to just get lost in the sound of my viola and think about what this morning’s assembly meant. It had not completely dawned on me yet that Henry had been so badly hurt he needed to go to hospital. It also took me a while to realise that it was the reason why we had not seen him at school on Thursday and Friday. Back then we thought it had been because he felt humiliated by the things Jean told him…

Which made me realise that Henry got beaten up on the same day Jean made fun of him in front of the whole canteen. It was entirely possible that it was not just a coincidence. Someone had been going after Henry before that happened; it could very well be that whoever did it had witnessed Henry’s public humiliation and decided to retaliate.

In a way, it was all Jean’s fault.

(...)

“Oscar, are you ok?” Olivia asked me during morning break. We were outside enjoying an ironically good weather and occasionally being interrupted by random students giving us their sympathies for Henry. Everyone seemed to know who the Headmistress had been referring to, despite her attempts at concealing his identity.

“Probably not.” I was thinking about Jean, about how he could have potentially ruined Henry’s life in so many ways. And about how cruel it was that Henry had to have a crush on him of all people.

“I think we should visit Henry after school today.” My girlfriend suggested. “Ariadne said he was discharged yesterday…”

“Isn’t it a bit too soon?” Edward asked, raising an eyebrow. He had followed us of his own free will this time, hanging out with us even though Jean was no where to be seen. He no longer seemed to mind he was a straight kid mingled with the gay club. “Maybe he wants to rest now that he’s finally home.”

“Just phone and ask, it’s not that difficult.” Helena retorted, somewhat harshly. She had been holding Ariadne in a bear-hug ever since they were reunited after classes; her girlfriend seemed to be taking Henry’s fate particularly badly.

“Fine, but let’s do it at lunch break. He might still be resting now.” Olivia agreed. From then on our conversation focused on what to do if we were allowed to visit him after school. Before the bell rang, at least another half dozen students came up to us to show their support.

Olivia and I dreaded going into Geography next. Edward had mentioned his father did not take the news about Henry well, but Mr Smith did not let it show during class. He made no mention of Henry’s name (probably for the same reason the Headmistress had done so), but he said a couple of things about hoping our class would be united from here on and supportive of our classmate when he returned to school.

(...)

“Ok, Olivia, you should be the one calling him.” Helena stated when we regrouped for lunch. Edward was once again with us, and once again his foster brother seemed to have disappeared from the face of the Earth.

“Why me?” The red-head asked, grabbing her mobile despite her doubts. Helena had that kind of tone that forced our bodies to follow her instructions even before our brains could process what those instructions were.

“Because you’re nice with everyone and share Geography with him.” Helena rolled her eyes, as if she was giving an obvious answer to a toddler.

“So does Oscar.” Hannah noted, raising an eyebrow.

“But Oscar is too incompetent.” Helena argued. To my horror, though not really surprisingly, Hannah nodded, Edward and Olivia laughed, and I felt like a small furnace had been lit under my cheeks. “Olivia is just better at these things.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Hannah shrugged and my girlfriend finally called Henry’s house. She had a very short conversation with his mother before turning to us to say that we had the all clear for a visit after class. With our plan secured, I left a message on my father’s phone saying I would be late, hoping that once again he would catch on to the inexistent subtext he was so keen to believe in.

Later, towards the end of lunch, we finally saw Jean. Or rather, he saw us and approached with his usual grin and cheerfulness, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened since the camping trip.

“Hey there, why did you guys disappear?” He asked, finding a place to sit between me and Edward. Mr Smith’s son immediately ran to Ariadne, but Jean had been focusing on me and thus barely noticed it.

“We didn’t. You were the one who was hiding through the whole morning.” Helena noted, sliding closer to Ariadne and Edward rather protectively. “Are you finally ashamed of what you did to Henry?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The blank look on Jean’s face made his statement shockingly believable. He did not seem to be affected by Henry’s fate or even his existence, despite everything the brunet did for him in the past.

“Oh, so it hasn’t crossed your mind that Henry got hurt because of you?” Helena crossed her arms over her chest, looking even more pissed than when she was trying to yank me out of my imaginary closet. “It hasn’t possibly occurred to you that it was your stupid bullying that made him a walking target to those homophobic arseholes? Really?” So Helena had come to the same conclusions I had. She was absolutely livid, and because I was sitting so close to Jean (and he was holding me by the arm, so I could not go anywhere) I felt the full impact of her blazing fury. Jean, on the other hand, remained stubbornly apathetic.

“It’s not my fault he doesn’t know how to defend himself.”

Helena stood up and grabbed Jean by his tie. She was a whole ten centimetres (four inches) shorter than him, but at that moment she easily towered over him. Jean grinned, like being the target of an angry explosion by the scariest student in school was something he found enjoyable. “So it’s his fault he had no way of fighting off a group of bullies much bigger than him? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Maybe. What if it is?” He challenged, looking deep in her eyes. To her credit, Helena did not even blink before unceremoniously dumping Jean on the ground.

“Then you’ll have to find another group of friends. We won’t stand by this ridiculous victim-blaming of yours, or to your complete lack of interest on a guy who gave his heart to you on a place and you threw it out the window.” She turned her back to him, motioning for the rest of us to follow her back to the main building. Edward and Ariadne promptly obeyed, Olivia reluctantly joined them after a couple of seconds and Hannah stood up, but did not move. I could not do anything because Jean had installed himself on my lap as soon as he landed on the ground.

“Well done, Jean.” Hannah, sighed, sitting beside the blond once the others were out of earshot. She did not seem to care that I was still there, or even bother to acknowledge my presence. “I just lost all my friends because of you.”

“So you’re sticking with me for real?”

“I told you back then that I would. I don’t like to go back on my words, so yeah.”

“I wasn’t lying to them.”

“I know.”

I watched their conversation feeling like a little child snooping through the door of their parents’ room during their most intimate moments. It was clear to me they were talking about things I was not meant to hear or understand, but they did not seem to mind it.

“Bring me some news later. Tell me if they hit his face too, it would be a shame if they managed to spoil such a beauty…”

“You still interested, then?”

“Let’s put it that way: if he gave me his heart in a plate, I’m giving him my ass on the kinkiest sex table I can find. When he sees the errors in his way my body will give him the warmest of welcomes…” Jean laid on my lap, grabbing my ponytail and using it to help him make up obscene scenes with his hands. It did not take long for Hannah to smile and stifle her laughter.

“Take it easy. He’s just a normal human being…”

“As opposed to my status as sex god?” Jean laughed too, and more than ever I felt like an intruder in the duo’s private life. Hannah and Jean had been friends long before they moved to this school. They probably shared the kind of bond considered ‘thicker than blood’, a kind of camaraderie I could only dream about. Under all the shame and sense of inappropriateness I envied them a little for it.

“As opposed to just about anything you do.”

“Fine. I can live with that. And some day I’ll find the proof beyond all proof of my divinity. You just watch.”

“Sorry, I fail to see the appeal in gay porn.” They laughed together again, and I wished my body could just dissolve in the grass and re-materialise somewhere inside the school building.

“Fair enough. I can’t understand how sex without dicks can be appealing, so we’re in the same boat.”

“You better think about the way you’re treating Henry, though. He doesn’t deserve to be toyed around like this.”

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do when he comes back to school. Until then you could call Helena and sort out the shit she just did.”

“One: she wasn’t the one who did it. Two: you have to learn to sort your own shit.” Jean blew a raspberry at his friend, but Hannah just grinned smugly. She left soon afterwards, not bothering to acknowledge my presence even for the goodbyes. I was beginning to think I had become invisible when Jean turned to face me, positioning his head just so our eyes would be on the same level and I would have the best view of his sexy face.

“Sorry about her. She feels more comfortable when she pretends there’s no one around her.” He said, putting a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers brushed past the scar near my left eye and he decided to run his fingers over it. “Where did you get that?”

“Car accident when I was four. Someone crashed against our car and I flew under the driver’s seat. The doctor said if the cut was any deeper I would have lost the eye.” I answered with certain indifference. I barely remembered the accident; nothing more than a few flashes of blood and darkness and screams, and then the hospital where I got candy for being a brave boy who did not cry when they took out the stitches.

“Cool. I like it.” His fingers traced the whole length of the scar, from where it started almost at my eyebrow down to my cheekbone. It was shaped like a drunken zigzag with its thick arms always disturbingly visible, no matter what I did to hide them.

“I don’t. Most people think it’s disgusting.” Including Wendy. She had to kiss me with her eyes closed because she could not bear the sight of it.

“I’m not like most people.”

“I noticed.”

And suddenly, with Jean on my lap touching one of the most shameful parts of my body, I felt like we were sharing the same kind of bound he and Hannah had showed to me minutes before. It was a creepy thought (particularly considering the kind of person Jean was), but oddly comforting. Jean had no shame at all about anything, and it included my scar. It probably included a lot more things I would rather not think about, but at that moment it did not matter.

“You know, I have a big one right here…” Jean said, taking my hand and putting over the left side of his chest, close to his nipple. “That tends to freak people out. Look…” In the next second his shirt was gone and I could see clearly a line of scar tissues that ran from about the middle of his chest to slightly above his left nipple. It looked like a deep cut made by a knife.

“Where did you get it?” I asked, wondering not so much how the scar got there, but how he managed to live to tell the tale.

“I met some people who couldn’t deal with my awesomeness.” Jean grinned, though not so much a sexy grin, but more of an impish one. He was obviously grossly oversimplifying his story, but I did not feel like pressing for more details. “And if you wonder how I survived… Yeah, the doctor was amazed too, until they did some exams and realised that I have my heart in the wrong place. I mean; the right place. I mean; the other way around, which is the right…”

“What?” Jean had stopped making sense half way through his speech. Thankfully he noticed my confusion.

“My heart is here.” He explained, taking my hand again and this time placing it on his right chest. “Apparently it’s a medical condition called dextrocardia. The organs in my chest have switched sides, so I’m like a mirror image of you normal people.” He smiled widely and I slowly began to understand what he meant. “So the guy’s knife caught a bit of my lung, but the heart was safely beating on the other side, so I didn’t die! Isn’t it cool?”

“I guess…” Neither of us spoke for a while. Jean was looking straight into my eyes, his hand still holding mine firmly over his heart. I could feel it beating under his skin, and after a while I felt my own heartbeats too, sounding in perfect harmony with his.

“So see, next time the others disagree with me you can at least tell them that I have my heart on the right side!” With this lame joke Jean broke our contact and got up. He hastily put his shirt back, winked suggestively and ran towards the school building. The bell rang less than a minute afterwards.