Crush - 1. Story

Crush

by

WrathOfMagneto

I see him in the hallways and my breath catches in my throat. The way the sun catches his golden blonde hair, making the edges shine white, as if his own inner glow was trying to escape and brighten the world, a little at a time. I couldn’t tell you the exact moment I fell in love with Tyler Jamison, but I will say that in all the time I've been alive on this world, I've never seen a more beautiful person.

His beauty transcends the physical, his heart being the most beautiful part of him. I know he volunteers in the school’s environmental club, picking up trash in the park and recycling cans. The money he gets from the cans he gives to the club to help fund their projects. I know I sound like a creepy stalker, but there was an article on him in the school paper. That’s how I know all that about him. And it’s not like I do anything creepy like read the article three times a day and sigh.

I only look at his picture.

Ok, I sigh too, but whatever. It’s just a simple crush.

That’s exactly what I was doing at the moment, looking at his picture and sighing.

“Justin?” I heard Mr Fowler ask me. I looked up at him. “You know, class ended about three minutes ago.”

“Huh?” I asked brilliantly. I looked around the room, seeing the class full of empty desks. I quickly stood up, my face burning hot, and gathered all my belongings.

“You might want to be more careful, Justin,” he said. “You don't want to let out any secrets by accident.”

I smiled at him, and he winked. I liked Mr Fowler, my English teacher. More than that, I trusted him, even with my ‘big’ secret. It’d been rumored for years that Mr Fowler was gay, so one day, after class, I decided to take a chance and come out to him. I’d been having a rough time, and desperately needed to confide in someone. Its actually kind of funny now, because I later found out he’s married with two daughters.

After I told him, he stood up and gave me a big hug. Something I don't get very often, but need so much. I don't know what it is, but when I get a hug, it takes everything I have to keep from breaking down and sobbing. Most of the time I'm not successful, but this time all that escaped were a few tears that made a small wet patch on his shoulder. When I was finished, he held me by the shoulders at arms length, looking into my eyes, and told me things would be alright. For the first time, I believed they would.

With my books and notebooks safely tucked away in my bag, I exited the classroom, smiling at Mr Fowler. I had to hurry to get to my locker, but at least the locker was near my next class.

I got there, and after quickly dialing my combination, I dumped my English book and notes in. I searched around for my math notes, and panicked a little when I realized they weren't inside.

I felt a soft tap to the back of my head, and grinned. I turned around and found Darren holding my math notes. I forgot I'd let him borrow them.

“Zone out a bit?” he asked with a bemused grin on his face, his dimples looking more pronounced than usual.

“Yeah, like usual,” I responded. I always said that, because I was always zoning out. I had a teacher tell me once that all dreamers did that, and that I needed to hold onto my dreams. Every other teacher I'd ever had, my parents included, told me to quit daydreaming and pay attention. My parents usually followed that sentence with a slap, unless they were too drunk to manage.

“What?” Darren asked with a confused look on his face. “You find me sexy or something?”

I froze. I'd been staring too long. But I really wasn’t thinking about Darren, even if he really is sexy.

“Umm…uhh…” I said eloquently. He held his face in an angry state for a few moments, before the corner of his mouth started to tilt upwards. Finally he lost control, and started laughing uproariously.

“Dude…you should have seen your face!” he was now holding his sides and pointing at my face.

I smiled, his laugh was infectious. We’d been friends for years, after having met in the sixth grade, when my dad lost his old job and moved us here. I'd been so sad after losing my close circle of friends, and Darren was there for me when I needed a friend.

“Besides, I know you ain’t a fag,” he said, still laughing. I wasn’t laughing anymore.

To say Darren was homophobic would be like saying an atom was small, or Dorothy Reynolds had a big fat ass. It was just a universal truth. It was inescapable.

I gave a hint of a smile, in order to keep him from suspecting anything. Inside I was aching. I knew my best friend would never accept me, and it hurt me deep inside.

“Dude, you really need to lighten up,” he said with that same smirk on his face.

“Whatever,” I said with a fake laugh. “You know you want me.”

He playfully swatted me in the back of the head again. Well…it hurt, and I saw stars for a second or two, but I know he didn’t mean to hurt me. At least…I don’t think he did. It’s not his fault I’m such a pansy.

I hurried along toward my math class after saying goodbye to him. As I walked, further ahead in the crowd, I saw Tyler talking to a few friends.

I sighed again, but recovered before anyone noticed.

I’ve really got to stop being so girly. It was a sure-fire way to get noticed in a school like this. And there were big angry looking jocks everywhere you went, so I really didn’t want to be noticed.

I entered the class, and made my way down the row of desks, towards my seat near the back. I didn’t see the foot that was meant to trip me, and I nearly fell flat on my face. I threw my hand out, dropping my books, and caught myself on a desk. My wrist screamed in pain, and tears formed in my eyes.

I stood up straight, and looked around to see who’d done it. All I found were smirking faces, and a few who were trying hard to stop themselves from outright laughing at me. My face burned with humiliation as I picked up my book from the floor, and saw that the cover was damaged and a few pages were torn.

Great. Just what I need. The school loans out the books, and you have to pay for them if they get damaged. I knew I was going to catch hell from my mom for this.

I angrily snatched my notebook out of the hands of the boy who was holding it, and glared at him and the rest of the class.

“Assholes,” I muttered. I looked again at the boy who’d had my notebook. He wasn’t laughing. He actually looked sympathetic. That makes sense, seeing as he’s nerdier and more of a loser than I was.

I took my seat just as the teacher walked in. I sat right behind the nerdy boy. After the teacher handed out our lesson for the day, he turned around and smiled at me.

“Sucks, huh?” he said with a hint of amusement.

“Yea…” I mumbled, and looked back at my work.

“Dan,” he said, confusing me.

I looked up, and he could see the question in my eyes.

“It’s my name,” he said, still smiling. He just didn’t get that I wasn’t in the mood for conversation.

“Yea, I know,” I said. I hadn't known, but I was just trying to get him to shut up. I continued to do my work.

“No, you didn’t, but that’s okay,” he said, still smiling. I was getting irritated now. “Hey, maybe we should…”

“Maybe we should mind our own damn business,” I snapped at him. His grin fell off his face, and he turned back around.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

I knew I’d hurt his feelings, but at that moment I didn’t really care that much. I was angry, and I’m ashamed to admit it, but it actually felt good to wipe the smile off his face. As soon as I thought that, I immediately felt guilty.

I looked down, and realized I’d been on the same question for twenty minutes. I looked up at Dan, and saw that he was diligently working on his assignment, but his shoulders were hunched over in defeat.

“Hey…” I started to say, but the bell signaling the end of class interrupted me.

Dan slid his assignment into his book, picked it up and quickly left the room before I could say anything.

“Damn it!” I cursed as I gathered up my own belongings, and headed out the door. I really didn’t need this shit.

The next class I got through without too many problems. The teacher decided to ask me a question, and when it became clear I didn’t know the answer, she proceeded to humiliate me for a few minutes. Nothing new there, though.

After that class, I went to lunch. I didn’t feel like walking back to my locker to drop off one notebook, so I just took it with me.

Today was just going to be one of those days. I should have just gone home. The few slaps from my mother would have been a much better alternative.

I stood in line, waiting to buy something that passed for edible from the cafeteria. I know it’s a cliché that all school lunches are disgusting, but in my school’s case at least, it’s true. I picked up a salad, an apple, and a small carton of chocolate milk. Those were the only things the school offered that was guaranteed not to move when you tried to eat them. There were no such guarantees on the rest.

I paid, using my very last three dollars and eighteen cents. I turned around, intending to find a quiet place to eat my lunch.

I didn’t get that chance. I turned to find myself face to face with three scary looking football players. I didn’t even know their names. But by the looks on their faces, I’d done something to piss them off.

The one furthest to the left picked up the apple off my tray, took a huge bite out of it, and threw it in the trash. The one furthest to the right picked up my chocolate milk, drank it, and put the empty carton back on my tray. The one in the middle paused, winked at me, then spit a huge nasty wad of spit into the middle of my salad.

“Enjoy your lunch,” the third guy said to me, and they walked away, laughing like hyenas.

I looked over at the lunch lady, and she scowled at me.

“Can I…” I began to ask for a new lunch, but the look she gave me stopped me.

“Next time, have your friends buy their own lunches,” she said, knowing full well that they weren't my friends.

I groaned, frustrated, and threw my “lunch” in the trash.

My shoulders slumped, mimicking Dan from earlier, I walked to an empty table, threw the notebook down onto it, and fell into a chair. I put my head down, just wishing for today to end.

A few minutes later, I vaguely became aware of the sound of pages turning, but I paid it little attention. I just didn’t care what it could have been. But the sound of my best friend’s voice, or rather the tone of it, surprised me.

“What the fuck is this?” he said, angrily. I looked up, and he was glaring at me in a way I’d never seen before. It was completely different than the mock anger he’d shown earlier, and I was caught off guard.

“Huh, what?” I asked.

He threw my notebook at me, which its wire spiral binding hit me in the forehead and made me clutch my forehead in pain.

I was about to yell at Darren, when I looked down at the page he’d been looking at.

Tyler Jamison.

Written in blocky, bold letters, but unmistakably my handwriting.

And circled with a heart.

My eyes snapped back up to his, and the panic in my eyes gave me away.

“Jesus Christ, you are a fag!” he practically screamed at me. The surrounding tables went silent, unashamedly eavesdropping on something that was none of their business.

“No…I…” I stammered, but it was no use.

“You’re a fucking fag!” he screamed again. There were gasps from a few people around us, and I was beginning to learn just how screwed I really was. “You’ve slept over at my house! Were you perving on me at night?” he demanded.

“No, of course not!” I said. “You’ve gotta believe me…”

“Why should I? Everything else you’ve said has been a lie!”

“I’m not lying!” I tried again, but there was no stopping him now.

“Then why do you have some guy’s name written in your notebook?” he asked. “And who the fuck is Tyler Jamison, anyway? He a fag too?”

He stood up quickly, and glared down at me. He took a step in my direction, and I know he wanted to hurt me. He had murder in his eyes, and at the moment I didn’t doubt that he would do it, too.

I fled. I ran around the opposite side of the table, and ran out of the cafeteria. I ran down the hall, tears streaming down my face, just wanting to get away. I heard a teacher yell at me to stop running, but I didn’t listen. I had to get away.

I didn’t go back for my backpack. I left it in the locker, leaving my homework with it. I ran out the front door before anyone could stop me, and out into the nice, calm spring day.

I’d ran halfway home before I slowed down to catch my breath. I contemplated what I’d just done, leaving school in the middle of the day like this. I was going to catch hell for sure.

I walked along down a quiet street toward my neighborhood. For most of the people living in these houses, it was just another ordinary day. But for me, it was anything bit normal. A cold ball of dread formed in the pit of my stomach, and the closer I got to my home, the more I started trembling.

On and on I walked, like an inmate walking the last mile, until I finally reached my street. My house could be seen from where I was standing, and my heart sank when I saw both my mother’s and my father’s cars in the driveway. This wasn’t good. Why was my father home from work? When I got to the house, I slowly turned the handle, taking great care not to make any noise. Raised voices could be heard from somewhere within, but I could hardly make them out. I knew they were talking about me, but I didn’t know how much they knew. If I was lucky, they’d have only heard that I’d left school.

I closed the door as quietly as I could, and then turned around, debating my next course of action. I thought about going up to my room and just locking myself in, but that thought was squashed when my shirt caught on the door handle, and the sound of it turning and then snapping back into place echoed in the hall. I then heard footsteps coming in my direction, and I closed my eyes, preparing for the inevitable.

I opened them when my mom started screaming at me.

“What’s this bullshit about you being a fairy?” she screamed. Shit. They knew. How could they have known? It’d only just happened twenty minutes ago.

“Imagine my surprise when I get a call from your counselor, telling me he’d just seen you announce your disgustingness to the whole school!” she exclaimed. A vein in her forehead protruded slightly, and the few wrinkles at her eyes and by her mouth stood out more prominently. She was normally a very pretty woman, but at the moment, she was utterly terrifying to me.

Then I felt the strong fingers at my shoulders, digging in as I was thrust backwards into the living room that was connected to that hallway, toward the couch.

I stumbled over my own feet, and barely managed to stay standing. My hands gripped onto the back of the couch, and before I could do anything to stop it, my shirt was pulled up and over my head, becoming tangled in my arms. I felt the cool air-conditioned air on my bare back, and turned my head to catch a glimpse of who was behind me.

All I saw was the black leather of an old and cracked belt. I heard the nearly silent whistle as it flew through the air. Just before it struck, I caught the scent of cigarettes and alcohol, and just a tiny hint of cologne. My father.

It hurt. The pain was unbelievable. I swear to God it hurt like nothing I’d ever felt before. Blow after blow of the old leather belt rained down on my back. Mercifully, I passed out not long after that.

After what seemed like an eternity, or maybe only a moment, I awoke on the damp carpet. As I lay quivering on the floor, a strong and unpleasant smell lingering in the air, I realized I was lying in a puddle of piss. I was still a little hazy as to whose it was, but the fact remained I was quivering in pain in a puddle of urine.

I dragged myself up the stairs, and fell in a heap on my bed.

I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid. I didn’t remember even writing that in my journal, it must have been when I was daydreaming. But most of all, I couldn’t believe how Darren had betrayed me. We’d been through so much together, and he decided to throw it all away over this. As I cried myself to sleep that night, I knew nothing good would ever happen to me again.

When I got to school the next day, Darren was waiting for me. He and about four or five others, all of them huge.

“Darren, please…” I began, but he didn’t let me finish.

“That’s right, beg,” he snarled at me. The guys with him all laughed at this. I idly wondered what the hell he was doing with these guys. They were exactly the type of brain-dead assholes he’d been saying he hated for years, and now, at the drop of a hat he’s hanging out with them? It didn’t make sense to me. Who was this person in front of me? Where had my best friend gone?

They surrounded me. I could have run, I had plenty of time. But I didn’t. I closed my eyes, and waited for the inevitable, for the first punch to hit me, signaling the end of my life as I knew it.

* * * * *

Time passes, but it definitely did not, as they say, heal all wounds. Each day was agonizingly worse than the one preceding it, and it was a wonder that I had the strength to start the day at all. As the days stretched on into long months, my spirits sunk lower than I thought possible.

My home life had become so terrible that I considered leaving, living on the streets. The only thing that stopped me was that winter would be on us soon, and I don’t like the idea of trying to survive a harsh winter in a Dumpster or something. But the idea was becoming more tempting.

School had become, at best, a humiliating experience. No one stood by me. Not even Dan, who didn’t have many friends himself, would give me the time of day. I’d been elbowed, tripped, and spit on so many times it didn’t even bother me anymore. I just took it. I’d become a walking zombie.

Why is it that when people learn something about you they don’t like, suddenly you’re this awful, terrible person? I mean, people I don’t even know went out of their way to try to hurt me. People I’d never even seen before. I hated it. There was no reason for it. It was as if I’d been living in a cave my whole life, no one knowing or caring that I was there, then suddenly I was yanked out of the shadows and thrust into the spotlight for them to torment.

I thought I hated living in the shadows, having no one care about me. What I wouldn’t give to dive into the darkness of anonymity once again. Fat chance of that ever happening again.

The bell to my last class of the day rang, and I stood up. I cautiously glanced around me, and seeing no immediate danger, I gathered my things and headed out the door. I went to my locker, and after being thoroughly grossed out by the sticky goo on the handle, I wiped my hand on an old test paper I’d gotten an “A” on. No one cared about it anyway.

I pulled out the books I needed, and left, heading for the front door of the school. I couldn’t tell you why I bothered with the books. I couldn’t tell you why I bothered trying at all. I knew I wasn’t going to live much longer. I just had to work up the courage to end it all.

Finally I reached the door.

Shit. It was raining. I stood at the door, hoping that the downpour wasn’t going to last long, but knowing that with my luck that wouldn’t be the case. From behind me, I heard someone say, “Let’s get him,” so I sighed, and walked out into the rain. I figured, they wouldn’t follow me out into a storm like this.

My arms hugged my body tightly, trying to fight off the terrible case of the shivers that the cold rain had given me. My teeth chattered, and I seriously considered just making a mad dash for home.

Then I saw him, standing under a red umbrella, eyes locked on me. When our eyes met, and I felt a jolt run up my spine, competing with the shivers that were quaking throughout my body. I don’t know why, but there’s always been something about Tyler Jamison that made it seem like everything would be okay. Just looking into his eyes made me feel a lot better.

A crack of thunder sounded in the distance, and Tyler jumped, losing eye contact. He unconsciously looked up to the sky where the sound had come from, and I decided to make a move. I couldn’t tell you why I did it. I’m usually too shy to even think about doing anything remotely like this, but maybe I figured I had nothing left to lose. I started walking over to him. When he looked back at me and found me closing the distance between us, he snapped out of it and moved to meet me half way.

We met in the middle of the parking lot, and he motioned for me to get under the umbrella. My heart was hammering in my chest, just being in such close proximity to the boy I’d admired for so long. He kept staring into my eyes, and I felt so open to him, as if he could see into my soul.

“Hi…,” I squeaked, my voice catching in my throat. I cleared it, and tried again.

“Thanks, I was getting pretty soaked,” I said.

“Did you miss your ride, or something?” he asked me.

“No…” I said, looking at the ground. “She must have forgot.”

I knew full well my mom wasn’t coming to pick me up. She never did it in the first place, even when the temperature was well below freezing. I’d walked home in deep snow, blistering heat, and of course, torrential downpours. She just didn’t care about me at all.

“Well, I’ve got a car, if you want a ride,” he said, more of a question than a statement. My head shot up, and I looked deep into his eyes. Why would he want to give me a ride? Hadn't he been ridiculed when people found out about me? I know he had. But the only thing I saw in his eyes was sincerity.

“Thank you,” I finally said, meaning it more than he would probably ever know.

© 2008 Wrath Of Magento