Black Star Cross - 41. Keith Must Die

Black Star Cross

Chapter 41: Keith Must Die

“WHAT?!?” I yelled, totally taken aback.

“Bro, I’m just messing with ya,” he laughed, patting me on the shoulder.

The shocked expression was still on my face.

“Bro, it’s a joke,” he said, looking at me like he was trying to describe to a preschooler what a train is. “I’m not really gay. I don’t really...”

“I get it, Keith!” I hissed, getting more annoyed by the second.

“Jeez. Chill out, bro. Listen, I actually DO have something to say.” he said.

“I don’t want to hear it,” I said, turning around and starting to walk away.

“You sure? It may or may not involve Anthony,” he baited.

I stopped. I thought. And I regretted my decision before I even made it.

I sighed. “What is it?”

“You see where Anthony went to after your first class?”

“Nope.”

“Well, he came looking for me. And he chewed my ass off. I’m not going to get into what he talked to me about, but it was really something. I thought he was going to beat me into the ground. So, after he chewed me out, I thought that I might as well talk to you as well, since Anthony and mine’s little chat somewhat indirectly involved you as well.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Well? Go on.”

He gave me a look. I couldn’t decipher it. He sighed.

“Look. I’m sorry that I’ve been giving you guys so much shit the past couple of days. You know, with the hassling, the notes left for you guys, the purposely pressing of your guys’ buttons. Apparently, I went too far. Anthony described it as a ‘power trip.’”

“So he talked to you about your recent fucktard attitude, I take it?”

“Well...wait...I mean,” he replied, the little lightbulb going off in his head. He had just revealed what his and Anthony’s conversation was about. “Dammit, fine. Yes, that’s what it was about. You happy?”

“Very. You seem bright enough that I can call this a well-earned intellectual victory.”

“Fuck you,” he retorted. “Getting back to my heartfelt confession...”

I scoffed. I can’t believe I just scoffed at a person.

“...so yeah, Anthony berated me about my cocky behavior and before you say anything, yes I know I just used a big word, and correctly, and fuck you; just because I’m a jock and hang out with Two-Syllable Anthony, doesn’t mean that I’m not capable of actually learning something from this school other than how to pick up hot chicks. Guys can have brains and brawn simultaneously. I just choose not to show off my intellect so that teachers don’t start to expect more out of me. By playing the ‘jock’ role, they’re amazed if I pass their class.”

I paused his run-on onslaught of defense.

“You see? This is why I said that my earlier victory was an intellectual one and well worth it,” I said.

He eyed me.

“If I thought that I could easily pound you into the dirt right now, I’d do it,” he threatened.

“Then why don’t you?” I challenged.

“‘Cause I’m not stupid. Didn’t I just get done saying that? I don’t know for sure, but there’s something about you that makes me think that it’d be at least a fair match between us.”

“You should be a psychologist,” I deadpanned.

“Nah. Never really felt like helping other people out very much.”

“Are we done here? I DO have another class to get to.”

“Yeah yeah. Just...I’m sorry about the way I acted. It was totally out of line. You’re the first Anthony’s decided to get close to intimately, so something about you must make you special. And if it makes Anthony happy, well then I’m all for it. I AM his best friend, after all.”

I just looked at him with contempt.

“Whatever. Thanks, I guess,” I said, and made my way back to my locker.

I doubt that he really meant it. If Anthony could be a good actor/liar, then it makes sense that Keith could, too. I didn’t see Anthony at all until the end of the day. He came up to me as I was packing my bookbag.

“Hey dude. How was your day?” he said casually.

I didn’t bother beating around the bush.

“So did you have your goon come kidnap me after lunch today?” I accused.

“What? What the hell is that supposed to mean, dude?”

“After lunch, Keith came and practically kidnapped me. Took me to the west hall for a little chat.”

A flurry of emotions splayed across his face.

“What did he have to say?” he said, murderous restraint evident in his voice.

By now we were walking towards his car.

“Well, first he came out and told me that he loved me.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!?” he reasonably yelled, looking at me wide-eyed.

“That’s about the same reaction I had. Then he burst out laughing, saying that it was a joke. I about decked him right then and there.”

“I would’ve too.”

“After our ‘playful banter,’ he told me that you two had a conversation today and, eventually, he apologized for acting the way he has recently. Of course, I don’t buy it for a minute.”

We were in the car, driving towards my house.

“I don’t know if he’s telling the truth either, dude,” said Anthony. “I told him to quit acting like such a douchebag, like he’s somehow dangling the fact that he knows about us in front of our faces and thinks he has the right to make fun of us. Fucking retard thought I was kidding at first. Took me threatening to end our friendship for him to realize that I wasn’t kidding around.”

“He told me that you almost beat him into the ground.”

“I probably would’ve. He thinks he has all the power, but I could still easily take him in a fight.”

“But remember that I took you in a fight, and won.”

“Shut up. We’re not to bring that up ever again, dude.”

“Oh I’ll bring it up plenty of times, I assure you.”

“Then I get to fuck you every time that you do.”

Silence. Did he really just say that?

“What?” he asked.

“I’m just surprised you said that. So you’re finally able to admit that you want me, sexually?”

“No!” he said, blushing greatly. “It’s nothing like that. It was a joke, dude. Just a stupid joke.”

‘Yeah, I thought so,’ I thought. ‘Freudian slip. Brought back up your defenses quickly, though.’

“Sure, Anthony. Whatever you say.”

“Don’t start that with me, dude!” he warned.

We soon arrived at my house. By then our bantering was heating up, and we probably would’ve resorted to fists soon enough. Either that or intense hate-sex. Hopefully the latter.

Went up to my room, yada yada, dinner, room again, homework, music, wank off, shower, sleep. Same old thing. No need to waste time there.

Anthony didn’t try to contact me the entire weekend. I can’t believe that I actually somewhat expected him to do so. But then again, I can’t just jump the gun here. He DOES have a job. And he DOES have other friends (supposedly). So it’s not like he’s purposely avoiding me...I think. Damn, I really need to get a hold of his work schedule. What company does he work for, anyway?

~~~

On Monday, I found out that someone, probably from the student committee, had replaced the pink heart that I had ripped off last week with another one. Are we not allowed to express our discontent with certain holidays? How do the Jewish students feel when the school goes about decorating for the Christmas season? What about all the students who celebrate Kwanza? Does the student committee even KNOW about that holiday? I ripped off this heart as well. Hell, I’ll rip off as many as needed if it gets the message across: I’m a Valentine’s Scrooge. Bah humbug!

“Well someone’s feeling the love,” I heard a voice say.

“Are you asking for me to shove this in a place that’s not well-equipped for papercuts?” I replied back.

“Like I’d let you get into my pants that easily,” Anthony countered.

“Done it more than once; can do it again,” I shot back, making sure to lower my voice so that Anthony doesn’t throttle me.

He frowned. “Front side’s different. Getting in the back is a whole different story.”

“I can wait. I happen to be quite the patient person. Sooner or later...” I let it drift.

He gave me a look. One that didn’t say “Sooner works for me.”

“I’m going to class now,” he replied stoically. He turned around and started leaving, regardless if I was ready to leave or not. To which I wasn’t. By the time I entered the classroom, Anthony was already at our desk, pretending to look over notes at the last minute.

“Don’t give me that ‘I’m too busy looking at my notes’ thing,” I said. “For one, our test was last Friday. Two, you looking at notes is like me putting on black nail polish and doing a half-decent impression of Britney Spears.”

Anthony couldn’t help but to burst out laughing at my comment.

“Dude! I could TOTALLY see you doing that!” he said, still laughing.

“That’s not what my point is supposed to be!” I argued. “You’re NOT supposed to be able to see me doing those things! Just who are you thinking of, anyways? ‘Cause obviously it ain’t me.”

Anthony was still laughing, albeit more gently. Bastard.

“Haha. Next time I hear one of her songs on the radio, I’m going to be thinking of you, dude,” he declared, still with some laughing involved. I was getting irritated.

“Look. It’s not that funny. Seriously.”

He continued to lightly chuckle.

“Stop laughing at me!” I said, which only encouraged him to laugh longer. I paid no attention to him, going through my own notes just to spite him. He caught on and continued to softly chuckle at my antics. He leaned over and whispered in my ear.

“So is this how you flirt? By making me laugh so hard that I piss myself?”

I whipped my head around, facing him, eyes wide open at his statement. I had to get this under control.

“Did you really piss yourself? Can I feel down there to make sure?” I asked, already sliding my hand underneath the desk.

“No!” he yelped, forcing my hand to the surface of the desk, giggling a little like a schoolboy.

Our antics were ended prematurely by the teacher coming in and starting class. At the end of class, Anthony actually stuck around this time.

“So how’d you do on the test?” he said.

“Better than you.”

“How do you know, dude?”

“I peeked at your paper when you weren’t looking.”

“Aw, dude! That’s cheating! C’mon, tell me what you got.”

“Compared to your impressive 84%? Much higher.”

“Tell me,” he whined. “Was it like a 95?”

“No.”

“Ninety-nine?”

“Not that either.”

“Dude, don’t tell me that you got a hundred on that test.”

“Didn’t get a hundred on the test, Anthony.”

“Dude! Tell me what you fucking got on that motherfucking test!” he exploded. I laughed at his antics.

“Geez. Don’t blow a fuse, man. If you really want to know...” I let it draw out for a few seconds. “I got an 85%.”

No sooner than those words left my mouth was I suddenly pinned to the nearest locker.

“You meaning to tell me that you put me through all that agony just for the fun of it?” he said in a somewhat threatening voice.

“Yep. Pretty much,” I said blankly.

“First of all, in your face! I, the ‘stupid jock,’ managed to almost tie you in test scores. Secondly, now that Keith’s back on my side, I am TOTALLY going to sic him on you and advice him to show no mercy.”

I struggled against his might. I utterly failed.

“Don’t make threats that you can’t carry out. You think I WON’T be able to somehow turn him against you? Street-smart or not, he’s still a jock and therefore easily manipulated. And another thing: you really want people seeing you like this? Holding me in, what I can only assume, a somewhat sexual position? All I have to do is moan loudly in pleasure and people will get the gist of it.”

He immediately let go of me.

“Damn you. One of these days, dude, you’re going to run out of things to hold against me.”

“I’ll be sure to wear black that day and cry heavily. And I won’t remarry for...oh, say, two months? That good enough?”

“Dude, I’ll make SURE that ain’t nobody want your ass when I’m...”

He paused. I looked on in confusion. What’s the deal here? Why’d he stop? What’s with that look?

“Whatever,” he said, shaking his head. It seemed like all the life was suddenly drained out of him. It was perplexing, and quite frankly, it was creeping me out.

“Dude, I’ll see you later,” he said, and walked away.

I didn’t quite know what to say to him, so I just let him be for now. Plus, I needed to get to my next class. Plus also, I needed to figure out what that strange emotion was on his face. It looked like a whole mix of things.

Fear.

Disbelief.

Realization.

Rejection.