by Terry Keys
How do you just walk out on a kid after almost two decades? It’d hurt Blaze deeply. It’d made him feel unworthy and cheated in a way. He’d spent years developing a relationship and in an instant, it was gone. He couldn’t understand why he no longer wanted him.
He quickly showered and threw his clothes on. Picking up his backpack and phone from his bed, he took off down the staircase.
His phone buzzed twice. It was a text from his dad, John.
Tried calling again. I’m sorry – I messed up. I really messed up. You’re not perfect son, we all make mistakes. Stop being a loser and pick up the damn phone please.
How about a call on my birthday or Christmas maybe? Blaze typed up the reply but deleted it.
He felt his face redden. “A loser?” He clenched his fists. How dare that sonnavabitch?
If his dad only knew how much he’d hurt him. But he had to know? He had to know and just not care.
A tear fell from his eye, he reached up and wiped his face. Suddenly both eyes were leaking like an old water faucet. For a second he just stood and let them flow. He screamed at the top of his lungs. It felt good to scream so, he did it again. Finally ten minutes later Blaze yanked a handful of napkins from the counter and wiped his face. Screw him.
Blaze grabbed a banana from the counter and his car keys and left.
Chapter 3
Out of all his classes, Blaze hated Mrs. Rotter’s the most. P.E. however was a close second. He’d played little league baseball and was a decent player. But as he’d gotten older he became less and less athletic, or maybe he never was athletic to begin with. So, he’d given the game up. Along with every other sport.
He opened the Twitter app on his phone and scrolled through.
“Blaze,” Mrs. Rotter called.
But he was preoccupied and didn’t hear her.
“Blaze Planter,” she said this time a little louder.
“What?” he answered, cocking his head to the side.
“We go through this everyday Blaze. I want you off the phone. You know the rules.”
“No, he doesn’t know the rules Mrs. Rotter, Rockband here is a freakin’ retard,” Tre Johnson said. All the kids laughed.
Blaze slid down in his seat and tried to hide behind his textbook. He thought about standing up for himself, but Tre Johnson was the star quarterback of the football team. He’d probably just get pummeled. So, he said nothing. He’d hoped that one day he would wake up and this, whatever he and Tre had going, would be over. But clearly this wasn’t the day.
“Enough, Tre,” Mrs. Rotter said. “Blaze isn’t a retard at all. He knows that and so do you. Besides, playing an instrument takes tremendous talent and a bit of brains,” she said winking at Blaze.
Blaze grinned a little, but not much. She was right; playing an instrument takes a ton of brains.
“Do you play any instruments, Tre?” she asked.
“My moms can’t afford no instruments, so no. But after I make it to the NFL then I’ll be able to buy whatever I want. Speaking of moms – Blaze’s is the freakin’ cafeteria lady. How you afford all those guitars, Rockband?”
Again, all the kids laughed at Blaze. He still didn’t understand why his mom had gotten a job at his freakin school. It was only ten minutes into class and Tre had gotten him twice already. Blaze knew only losers got picked on. Tre knew it too. That’s why he never let up on him. No resistance. An easy target.
“Tre, one more outburst and it’s to the principal for you,” Mrs. Rotter scolded.
Tre leaned over and nudged Blaze. “Ahh, Mrs. R you now I was just jiving. Even my friend Blaze here knows that. Right Blaze?”
“I’m not your goddamned friend,” Blaze finally spoke up, shocking himself.
Tre laughed – so did everyone else.
“Language, Blaze,” Mrs. Rotter warned.
Blaze rose from his seat. “Can I just do this paper in the principal’s office, please?” He was already heading for the door.
“Running away again huh, Rockband?” Tre asked as he stood and got in Blaze’s face.
Blaze took a step back and smiled. He didn’t know why he smiled, but he did.
“Fine, Blaze, please go to the principal’s office,” Mrs. Rotter offered up. “And Tre, have a seat.”
Several seconds passed but neither student moved. Mrs. Rotter knew that she wasn’t big enough or strong enough to break up two adult sized boys. She hoped that it wouldn’t come down to that.
“Now boys,” she said again this time in a much sharper tone.
Blaze slowly took a few steps back and continued smiling at Tre. Neither of the two looked away from the other.
“What you smiling at, faggot?” Tre snarled.
“Tre, would you care to join him?” Mrs. Rotter threatened.
“Nah, I’ll chill Mrs. R. Can’t be getting kicked outta no classes. Coach will have my ass.”
“Well he is the only dad you know right, Tre?” Blaze said as he reached the door. What the hell had gotten into him? It was stupid but talking back to Tre felt good.
“Enough! Geesh, what’s gotten into you two?” Mrs. Rotter said. “All darn school year.”
“It’s true. I got daddy issues,” Tre said laughing. “ADHD too… all that shit.” The other students found that hilarious too.
“Language Tre. You two just have pottymouths today don’t you?”
Blaze reached down and pushed the door open.
“Hey Rockband, your dad come back home yet? Or is he still banging his secretary?” Tre jeered.
Blaze froze. He could feel his face reddening. He heard the little voice in his head tellinghim to walk away. But he wasn’t sure if he was going to listen. He had to fight back or this bullying would never end.
Then he felt a hand press into his lower back. “No. I’m not going to let you do this,” Mrs. Rotter whispered.
Finally, he took a deep breathe, turned back and smiled at Tre one last time and then headed for the office.
He went into his bag, took out a set of headphones and turned on the Manson song that Mark had sent him a link to.
When he reached the main office Mr. Hunter, the Principal at Kilwade High, was waiting on him.
The tall, fit man stood with his arms folded. “C’mon. Follow me to my office.”
Thirty seconds later they’d reached Hunter’s office.
He pointed to a chair and said, “Have a seat, Blaze.”
Blaze sat down and took his headphones off his ears.
“You’ve been a good student for so long here. I’ve looked over your grades, conduct and your test scores. We should’ve forced your hand and made you take the Honors courses that you qualified for. Those students are more on your level. I also heard that your parents have recently gone through a divorce. My parents divorced when I was about your age too. So, I know what you are dealing with first-hand. Do you have anyone that you can talk to besides your parents?”
Blaze shook his head. “I don’t and even if I did, I probably wouldn’t talk to them.”
“Why not? It doesn’t hurt to talk about these things. It actually feels pretty good.”
Blaze said nothing.
“I’m worried about you, Blaze. You’ve got a few classes that you’re even failing now. It’s just not like you.”
“Yeah well, I’m fine. No need to worry about me. And I damn sure don’t need another parent.”
“Every other day you’re in my office. That doesn’t seem like a student that’s fine.”
“I asked to come here. It’s not like I was sent here.”
“All the same Blaze. Is there anythingI can do to help? What are you running away from in your class? Or who?”
Again, Blaze said nothing.
“Be very easy for me to find out Blaze. You could make it easier by just telling me.”
Blaze rolled his eyes but reluctantly answered. “Tre Johnson. Everyday he’s got something smart to say to me. It never stops with that guy and his degenerate
friends.”
Hunter smiled. “You mean the quarterback Tre?”
“Yeah, is that funny?”
“I’ve never had any teacher complaints about Tre. He’s a little rough around the edges sure. Kid comes from a tough neighborhood.”
“Okay so? I’m just making this shit up. I knew I shouldn’t have said nothing man.”
There was a knock on the door. Blaze turned around to see his mother standing there. Hunter waived her in.
“What the hell is she doing here?” Blaze asked.
“I asked your mother to come down for a few minutes and talk with us.”
“Blaze, what’s going on? Mr. Hunter said this is the fifth time this month that you’ve been in his office. Why didn’t I know about this?”
Blaze rolled his eyes again. “There’s a lot about me that you don’t know, mom.”
She bent down and grabbed his face. “That’s because you shut everyone out. You won’t talk to anyone.”
“Sounds a lot like what I just told you,” Hunter said smiling. “Gotta talk these things out.”
“I don’t see anything funny. So what, you guys want me to lay on someone’s couch and tell them how I feel? Besides, I told you about Tre and you freaking laughed at me.”
“I didn’t laugh about Tre. If there’s a problem there-”
“Whatever,” Blaze snapped.
“And if laying on someone’s couch and talking helps…” Hunter said shrugging.
“We just want what’s best for you, Blaze,” his mother said.
Blaze laughed.
“Now you’re the one finding humor in all of this,” Hunter said.
The bell rang, interrupting their session.
Blaze stood up. “Listen, I appreciate you guys trying to help but like I said, I’m fine. And besides, I’ve got Nikki and Mark to talk to, right? Two people should be more than enough. I don’t need the whole damn world knowing about my problems.”
“Where are you going?” his mother asked.
“Philosophy. It’s my next class. You did hear the bell, right?”
They watched as Blaze pulled the door open and walked out.
Mr. Hunter stood. “I’m sorry about all of this. But if he won’t talk to anyone there isn’t much we can do to help.”
“I know. And thank you for involving me.”
“Listen, I’m sorry. I really am. I know how difficult something like this is. If there is anything we can do to help, you be sure to let us know. Be sure to let me know.”
Chapter 4
The bell rang again and everyone took their seats.
Mrs. Gibbs walked to the front of the class. “Good morning, class. Today we’re going to do things a bit differently,” she said and looked back, noticing Blaze adjusting his headphones.
“Blaze, can you take those off please?” He didn’t want to, but he knew fighting with her would get him nowhere.
She waited for him to oblige before she proceeded.
“Like I was saying, we’re going to do things a little differently today. No lecture from me. This is going to be an open discussion.”
Several of the students moaned and groaned.
“C’mon now guys, you talk to each other all day. It won’t be that bad. I promise. So, here’s the question: name your biggest fear. Not like a fear of heights or spiders, but your fear in life. I understand that you are all teenagers but you’re old enough to have developed some legitimate fears as you near adulthood.”
A few of the kids laughed. Others looked around at each other dumbfounded.
A minute later Mrs. Gibbs asked, “Any volunteers?”
She peeked around the room and saw a hand slowly raise. “Okay Juju, let’s hear it.”
“I have a fear that I’m gonna have a retarded kid.”
Many of the kids started laughing.
“Like father, like son!” Someone yelled.
“Screw you!” Juju called back.
“Take this seriously guys. Dig deep. You aren’t five or six years old anymore. Give me something you know that’s at least halfway educated.”
Finally, she saw another hand raise and pointed to the back of the class. “Go ahead.”
“I fear disappointing my family,” Eric said.
“Okay Eric, thank you. You see that wasn’t that hard now was it? Can you elaborate some?”
“Well, I’d be the first person in my family to go off to college. There are a lot of people invested in it and I don’t want to let them down,” he said.
“That’s something that I struggled with as well when I was your age,” Mrs. Gibbs said.
“Really?” Someone asked.
She nodded. “Yes. Any of you ever heard of Chevron? I bet you all have. Well, my father is the company lawyer. Kind of a big deal. Living here on the Texas coast and right here in Kilwade where oil and gas is king, he just thought naturally I’d go off to law school and follow in his footsteps. You can imagine how much he earns being the head lawyer for a company that makes billions. But here I am, a teacher on a fiftyK a year salary.”
“So, how did you handle it? Not living up to his expectations?” another student asked.
“I just told him, dad I love you but it’s my life. Teaching is what God called me to do. So here I am. Enough about me. Who’s next?”
One by one students raised their hands and shared their fears. Most said failure, disappointing their parents in some way or losing a parent.
Mrs. Gibbs noticed that there were only one or two students that hadn’t given an answer. “Dylan, you’ve been quiet. Care to share a fear with us?”
Dylan shook his head and said nothing. “What about you Blaze – anything?”
He had been thinking about Mrs. Gibbs question, but no one else’s fear was the same as his. And he didn’t want anyone to laugh at him. He’d already been humiliated enough for one day.
“It’s okay to share guys,” she encouraged.
“Being alone,” Blaze finally spoke up.
He noticed that a few kids did find it funny.
“That’s a good one, Blaze. I don’t believe anyone else has said that. Can you explain in a little more detail what you mean?”
“It means no matter who I talk to, I still feel alone. Like nobody really gets me. Like I’m an alien. Sometimes even when I’m not alone I still feel alone.”
“It’s a legitimate fear,” said Mrs. Gibbs, eyeing a few students. “No one really wants to be alone. But you know, nowadays it’s a lot easier to be connected 24/7. With all of the social media outlets and-”
“No. Those sites aren’t who we are,” Blaze scoffed.
“No?” Mrs. Gibbs said.
“This is why you’re alone,” someone said laughing.
“Knock it off,” Mrs. Gibbs scolded.
Blaze stared the boy down. “Everyone is someone else on social media. Guys try to be super cool and girls just upload pics in bikinis. On social media, everyone is who they think people want them to be. It’s fake. All people care about is how many likes or retweets they can get.”
“You know Blaze, there’s a ton of truth to what you are saying. Personally, I don’t do much social media for that very reason,” Mrs. Gibbs added.
“And for your information Will, I don’t have many friends because most of you are selfrighteous losers who only care about getting drunk, poppin pills, getting laid or getting high. Who wants to hold a conversation with one of you morons?”
Mrs. Gibbs fought back a smile. Blaze was right, but she couldn’t agree with him – not in this setting.
“Okay Blaze, let’s be nice.”
The bell rang and everyone grabbed their belongings.
Blaze stood up to leave.
“Blaze, stay behind please. Everyone else is dismissed.”
He threw his hands up and cocked his head to the side at her. What the hell had he done wrong?
“See yah, Rockband,” Will said as he passed Blaze.
Mrs. Gibbs walked over and s
at next to Blaze. “You okay, kiddo?”
He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You seem a little on edge lately and the back and forth with Will. What was that about?”
“You saying that was my fault?”
“No. I’m not saying that at all. I actually believe that you hit the nail on the head. But I couldn’t agree with you in front of the class. Normally you’d just let a silly comment like that go.”
“Well maybe today I just didn’t feel like taking anyone’s shi-”
Mrs. Gibbs shook her head. “You know better.”
“Whatever,” Blaze said.
“How is your mom doing? I mean with the divorce and all?”
“Jesus, is there anyone here who doesn’t freakin’ know?”
She laughed. “Well Blaze, it is a high school. There are no secrets in a high school.”
He stood up. “She’s fine, I guess. Listen, I gotta get to my next class. Trying not to get too many more tardies, if you know what I mean?”
“Okay Blaze, but take care of yourself do you hear me? You know there are people that you can talk to if you’re feeling lonely too. There are people who can help.”
He nodded on his way out but never turned around. “Yup I know. Thanks.”
Chapter 5
Blaze’s next class was English with Mr. Trong, which he managed to make it through without incident. Then it was off to lunch.
He sent Nikki a text to see if she had made it to the gym where they were meeting.
He strode down the hallway and stared down at his phone.
“I don’t want to be alone,” someone mocked while waving his cell phone in the air.
Blaze was confused. What the hell was he talking about?