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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
True As It Can Be - 11. Chapter 11
Our late lunch started off very well with conversation between Min, Brad, and me about experiences. However, something changed when a young male waiter brought us our food. He appeared to be close to our age, maybe even a little younger than us, dressed in a white button-down shirt with a bowtie and pressed dressed pants. He was noticeably checking me out, so I guessed he was part of the LGBT spectrum. With my new wardrobe and haircut, I did look like a short preppy twink instead of a middle schooler with discount clothes, but it never occurred to me that I would start looking more attractive to others. Brad caught onto the server’s gaze and growled at him, causing the server to wince slightly and nearly dropping my roast beef with homemade chips.
When he sees Brad’s face, an expression of fear comes over him. He wasn’t the person, who took our orders. The waitress from earlier did not look at our faces and appeared to be aloof with her notepad, just jotting down our orders. She probably tried to ignore guests’ personal attributes, being a bit older by appearance must have given her more experience. For this kid bringing out the food though, it was likely his first-time seeing Brad’s disfigured face and wild blond hair.
His voice is soft and timid, “May…May…I bring you anything else?”
Brad’s scowl deepens with his exposed bony jaw, he angrily tells the boy, “Leave!”
With those words the server left abruptly, Min and I stare at each other uncomfortably. Brad noticed our disturbed expressions. He moved his chair and plate of Chicken Breast away to another table adjacent to ours. All conversation ceased between us for the remainder of our time at the private club. Cook acknowledged what happened, he left his table to approach the front desk. I noticed the server was being scolded by his boss at the front of the dining area prior to Cook’s approach. Cook went to the maître d’hôtel and appears to alleviate the issue. I hope the kid didn’t get in too much trouble; I mean I’ve checked out guys before, too. It’s not professional, but being gay, it comes with the territory. Brad’s reaction though was a bit too strong, both to me being looked at and to the reaction of the scared kid
On our way back to campus and home, we went to a supermarket. After a day of pampering and comfortable isolation afforded by Brad’s family wealth, it came as a shock to me that instead of shopping at some place like Wegmans, Roche Bros or Amazon’s suspiciously “friendly” and equally high-priced grocery chain, Whole Foods. We went to a Market Basket, a discount grocery chain, where rows of discount brand name items, eggs for $0.89 per dozen, a gallon of whole milk for $1.19, and even Chip’s much sought after Apple Jack cereal for $1.49 per box were arrayed for anyone. I know it very well from weekend expeditions with Morris’ family to get snacks and toiletries for our dorm room, it’s similar to Mike’s Discount Foods back in Minnesota.
While most of the guys went inside Market Basket to shop, Brad wanted to remain in the car. I chose to do the same and keep him company, since I wanted to just have some time to chat with him. Brad seems to have loosen up, when we were fishing, but he became more reserved and skittish around lunch time, especially what happened with the server at lunch.
After everyone left, I place my hand over Brad’s forearm, “You want to talk about what happen at Lunch?”
Brad study my face before speaking, “I’m a monster Beau. I can’t let other people look at you like…I do.”
I acknowledge what was apparent with his groan, but there is more, “I know you want to protect me and make me happy. I get the possessiveness and I know we have to work on that together. However, what I saw after your initial groan towards the guy was something else,” I inhale and exhale a big breath, “I think you didn’t like how he reacted to your disfigured face.”
Brad shifts his gaze lower to my hand on his forearm and shakes me off, “I’m hideous Beau. My mouth was carved up, my jaw bone is partially exposed, and I have 2 slits where a nose should be just so I can breathe. What other reaction would someone get, when they see me?”
I try to demonstrate that’s not the case, “I don’t think you are hideous, Brad.”
He snorts, “You don’t count, we’re practically sleeping together. People judge others based on our appearance Beau, like your new haircut and clothes make you look like a hot college guy, rather than an awkward preteen.”
I know he’s right about my new look, but it’s not the full truth, “I was scared of you Brad, when I first saw you, but I stopped being scared after you showed me you cared about me. The more I knew you, the more I like the person behind what is on the surface. It’s not just me, either. Chip doesn’t think you’re too ugly to befriend, nor does Min. Paki is unshaken by physical disfigurement if you give him an opportunity. The others will come to appreciate who you are more if you can just relax your emotional barriers. While beauty may be something that people judge on first impressions, experience and time changes perceptions, if you are willing to give people a chance, again.”
I lace my fingers around his own, he doesn’t retract his hand. I can feel him thinking over my words and considering his response.
Brad moves in for a kiss on my forehead, then sighs, “I wish I was a better person, Beau. I used to be very superficial and I know my priorities are still screwed up. Gary and I were the best-looking guys at our high school. We had people eating out of our palms, not just because of our wealth, but we also had physical beauty and strength. I liked to intimidate people and seduce them, because that’s what I thought being strong and popular meant with Gary. I never had to threaten people into acting a certain way, I could just make them. He didn’t teach me that stuff, I taught it to him. After he betrayed me and literally fucked me over, I can only hang onto the intimidation through what he did to me. I know I could go in for plastic surgery and get all of this stuff fixed. I just can’t bring myself to do that, though. It makes no sense why I want to keep looking and acting like a monster, but it just feels right to me.”
I know that Brad is a complex guy. I recognize what he’s talking about, his nature of being intimidating and smug from our early conversations being prime examples. Some of it reminded me of Gary, but unlike Gary, Brad’s words and actions aren’t done to create pain or misery for his pleasure. Brad has regrets for his actions as well, showing he’s got a conscience. No, I can’t see him as a monster, because Brad doesn’t act out of narcissistic sadism.
I slide my body to embrace him, trying to offer him comfort, “You’re not a monster Brad. You are a good person with a big heart. Have you talked to Cook about this stuff?”
He shakes his head, “Yes, but I kept some stuff from him. I hope you can keep a secret between us,” he breathes deeply before speaking again, “I’m scared to be outside or near other people, scared of what I can do to people; especially when I am angry. Like what happened with the waiter, I wanted to punch him for looking at you,” he exhales, “Sometimes, when I see the other guys at home, I want to do horrible stuff to them like what Gary did to me. It’s worst when I am going through withdrawal. When I have taken Methadone, I feel guilty for what I imagined and ashamed for what I wanted to do. I like to intimidate people and I’m just like Gary. I’m really messed up, Beau.”
Brad’s admission sent a shockwave into my system. He purposefully pushed people away to keep them from getting hurt by him. I think back to the night of him wailing and his jeers at me to suck his dick, while he was tied down.
As stray thought came into my mind, was I in danger from Brad that night? No, because I remember he picked me up into Keller Hall after scaring off Gary. He only verbally denounced me the next morning, when his room was strewn with ripped underwear and gay porn magazines. He was already going through withdrawal and was probably very aggressive at the time, but he didn’t act on it with me. He’s not a dangerous person, at least to me.
Then, why does he want to intimidate others? A memory floats to my mind from freshman year in high school, when we had an anti-bullying workshop. Bullies act this way to establish dominance over other to control a situation. One of the reasons they want dominance is to protect their own self-image. Brad’s own guilt and fears is causing him to act out. I’m certain he’s not a bad person, he’s just trying to protect himself and…the things or people he cares about.
Coming to such realizations, I address Brad, “You calmed down around me, though. You tried to keep your distance from others, even today after your outburst. You’re a better person than you think, Brad. I think maybe you have some stuff to deal with, but you’re naturally a good person. Gary was fucked up before he met you, what you shared with him wasn’t what made him the way he is.”
Brad nods slowly, rubbing my back, “I don’t know what it is about you Beau. We met only 4 days ago. You just came into my world and just get me. I just want to keep you with me and even when I’m fucked up, I don’t want to hurt you,” he hesitates for a moment, “Beau, will you be my boyfriend? I know we didn’t talk about labels, but I want you more than a friend or some guy to fool around with. It’s a lot to ask. I’m fucked up and I know you’re not in a great place in your life either.”
I’ve never had a boyfriend, never felt what I feel right now. I want to jump on top of Brad and cry my heart out at being asked what I knew was true in my heart. I assumed we were boyfriends, assumed what Brad wanted from our arrangement and plans last night was this. Yet, he never used a label before now. Maybe we both recognized that we love…no, I can’t use that word to describe what we feel now, can I?
I want to accept being his boyfriend, I want to believe that we “love” each other. It’s too early in everything though. I don’t know enough about him and he barely knows anything about me. I appreciate him, enjoy his protection, and above all, I like that he thinks of my needs first. It can come as a detriment at times, too.
Before I could answer Brad though, the sliding door of the SUV opened and everyone was getting back in. As the car began to move, Paki tossed a golden Ferraro Rocher Hazelnut Chocolate ball to each person in the car, including Brad.
Brad mutters, “Thank you,” surprising Paki, who seems to not be expecting any sign of gratitude from Brad.
“Wamkelekile”, Paki enthusiastically replies, then adds, “Now about that long blond hair, you got Chris Hemsworth’s hair, but it needs to be styled, no need to cut if you don’t want to, long hair on big strong guys is very workable.”
Brad contemplates Paki’s words, the makeup over his black skin, and his emerald green eye shadow of the day, “You are…not what I thought Francis would be into.”
Francis grunts a laugh, before Paki responds, “Oh, you are not the Beast that you like everyone to see you as either. Life is too short to be what others expect you to be. I appreciate the experience of beauty for myself and Francis. As my mother once said “Ukukhula kukubona izinto”, an old saying to emphasize the necessity of experience.”
Francis places an arm around Paki’s back in agreement, Brad smiles widens and he does the same with me, “Now tell me more about what you want me to do with my hair. I like what you suggested for Beau, he needed the haircut and I like that you left a few bangs in front. He doesn’t look like a 12-year-old anymore.”
I protest, “I never looked like a 12-year-old.”
Chip playfully joins in my protest, “Beau look like me, even more now with less hair. I think we can pass ourselves off as twins now, if we wear matching outfits. I’ve got a pair of really cool Plusle and Minun outfits, we can so match up. They might be Pikachu clones, but they’re so fun in tag-teams especially against another electric-type Pokémon. Their Volt Absorb and Lighting Rod abilities perpetually enhances their HP. They support each other and keep each other strong.”
Brad jokingly asks Chip, “Do you think you can get me a matching outfit with Beau, then?”
The conversation ventured into different areas of appearance, outfits, and interesting pivots into discussions about supportive Pokémon abilities. This was the first time; I’ve seen Brad and Chip or Paki interact. It was also the first time I’ve heard Brad talk about Francis; even indirectly with him in the car. Warren was paying close attention to the conversation that was going on between Brad and Paki, but he refrains from entering our discussions. I know he’s a very defensive guy by nature, but if he allows himself to understand Brad’s situation and his internal issues, they could be friends, too.
On the other side of the SUV, Min seems content to be the wallflower in the middle of our conversation, but it feels different than earlier, since we have formed a loose association.
When we reach the house, most of us dispersed to our rooms to change. I followed Mrs. Potter to the back of Keller Hall, near the Blue Rose Garden. She teaches me about Tasers and Stun guns. I’ve heard of them, but I never knew how they worked or how they function. Essentially, they both work by stimulating the human nervous system with more electricity than our bodies can handle. With contact of a few seconds, you will cause immense pain to someone struct by a taser or stun gun. If you can have enough amps and sustained body contact of at least 5 seconds, you can cause someone to pass out into unconsciousness. Mrs. Potter’s taser was used that way against Gary.
However, unlike her taser, which has the ability to cause this “Neural Muscular incapacitation”, this device will not normally cause someone to fall unconscious due to the lower amps. The StrikeLight’s main purpose is to cause localize pain against an attacker and be an innocuous self-defense weapon that can be mistaken for a simple flashlight. When I use it, I am trying to create an opening to escape from a single attacker. She showed me how to enable the safety, adjust the settings from LED light to a sharp electric chirp. She gave me a warning about the legality of using it before I get my permit for it, but noted that I should be able to get a quick permit with the local police.
When we were done with my lesson, I went back to my room and changed for dinner. Sunday night dinner was an informal affair, Cook served us blackened Trout with corn and biscuits. It was however far more animated than the previous 2 nights that I’ve stayed at Keller Hall. Brad’s presence seems to inspire a bit more openness between all of us. Min even spoke gleefully of the fishes, which we caught. There’s something about the refreshing experiences of the day that seem to flow into dinner. Cook was observing all of our interactions and smiling.
After dinner, Cook asked me to come to his room for a chat before I return to my room for the Philosopher’s Stone, so I can fulfill my promise to Brad. Cook’s room was a mirror image of Brad’s large studio-type room, except instead of Brad’s assorted exercise equipment, Cook kept a comfortable couch and several shelves of large hardcover books and medical instruments. He also had a refrigerator with a biometric lock in his room, which I presume holds medication. I knew he was a medical doctor along with being a psychologist, but seeing his room made the point very clear that his presence at Keller Hall was more professional than the relaxed image he presented cooking for us.
Cook had me sit on his couch, then he sits next to me and asks, “I should have asked you yesterday after your attack, but you were not up to speaking. Are you happy, Beau?”
I remember what happened yesterday with Gary and how dark everything felt. At this time last night, I was ready to run off to protect these wonderful people from Gary’s wrath, but Brad’s insistence stopped me. I know how Brad feels better than anyone. I know how fear of harming others can drive you into isolation, because I actually lived it. Yet, today, those dark feelings are completely gone, instead I am filled with hope and desire.
I nod in response to Cook, “I’m happy today.”
He smiles, “I heard what happened to you from Mrs. Potter. I also heard and saw what transpired between you and Brad in his room last night. I can only guess what you both feel for one another. Do you remember what I told you early Saturday morning?”
I shake my head without uttering a word.
“I’ll be very honest. I think Brad cares about you and you care about him. I was worried that you and him wouldn’t be able to form a healthy bond. In psychology, co-dependency is a danger that masks itself in the benign interactions, when 2 people grow emotionally entangled and reliant on each other. Those kinds of bonds are dangerous for all sides, like an apartment building built on a weak foundation,” I blink at that concept as he pauses to emphasize the point, before he continues, “That isn’t what happened with you and Brad. You and him have begun to build each other up, improve each other through being social. You are more mature than I ever conceived Beau. You’ve done what I had hoped would form over time between Brad and the other residents of Keller Hall. Your psychological profile was the missing aspect I could not find to complete what I created here. Everyone is starting to connect, because of your presence and your ability to move in-between different people due to your unique circumstances and personality. It’s because of you that I believe these guys are finding their way to a semblance of normalcy.”
I am dumbfounded by his reaction, “I’m just me, Cook. I’m not special. I try to figure stuff out about Brad through my experience. I like to connect with others.”
Cook recognizes my reticence, “I know you are not ready for what I hope. You are more than capable of helping them than me, because you are similar to them, but I think you should know something,” he sighs, “Brad’s stay at this University is not permanent as you know. The terms of the grant agreement between the Brook Foundation and the University are that Brad’s stay is dependent on him attending actual classes in-person. The last day for course enrollment in the Winter/Spring Semester is this Wednesday. I know you can persuade him to do much, but he’s afraid to present himself in front of others and thus attend actual classes. I can guess at his reasons, but he has not revealed that to me. Paki, Francis, Warren, and Min each have their issues related to their lives and Brad due to the imminent deadline of the grant agreement.”
I can feel the pressure mounting on me, “I…I…don’t know if I can help him or the others.”
Cook smiles, “All I ask is that you try your best, I think Brad will honor his words to you no matter what the outcome will be.”
After a few more minutes of discussion, I left Cook behind. I found my old paperback book and went down to Brad’s room to begin my night time reading as I had done before. Brad’s body was rolled to one side of the bed, leaving room for me to get in if I wanted to after he fell asleep. At some point, Brad begins to snore slightly and I lay my old book down on a desk. I move my body underneath the covers of the bed and tried to sleep with all the needs of Keller Hall’s residents in my mind. At some point in my night of sleeplessness, Brad turns over and unconsciously rolls my body closer to him. His warmth and his strong arms lull me into sleep.
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21
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14
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2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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