The Thunder in His Head

by Gene Gant

  I found that I liked the vegetable stew after all. It made a very satisfying splat when the spoonful I flicked at Raj hit him squarely in the forehead.

  Chain actually laughed, his misery broken for the moment. “Hey. Good shot!”

  Smiling crookedly, Raj wiped the food off his face with a handful of napkins. He must have had no sense of taste; he’d scarfed down every bit of his vegetable stew and thus had no ammunition for retaliating. Not that he could have, anyway. The guffawing that erupted around us when my food missile hit had drawn the iron gaze of Dr. Mott, the tall, hawkish physics teacher who was monitoring the cafeteria this period.

  Dr. Mott was still staring our way. Raj pointed a finger at me, pistol-like, and said, “Dude, payback will be a bitch.”

  “Bring it,” I invited.

  Raj flipped me the finger and resumed his conversation with Chain. They went from pontificating on Carla’s intelligence to Ty’s lack of basketball skills, using the tried and not-so-true method of tearing others down to make themselves feel better.

  Not in the mood to join them, I pulled out my cell. Dwight and I had already exchanged “miss you” texts this morning while I was walking to school, and I had gotten hard just thinking about how good his half-naked body felt lying next to me in bed. He’d told me that he would be taking tests all day, so I couldn’t text him now. I scanned through the pictures I’d taken of him, stopping with the one of him standing bare-chested in my room. Staring at it brought a dazed grin to my face. Even though the picture was cropped off at Dwight’s waist, I could still remember clearly what he looked like down below. Yow!

  “What’re you cheesin’ at over there?”

  I looked up. With a sly smile, Raj was leaning over the table, trying to get a look at the screen of my cell phone.

  “It’s pictures of my naked boyfriend,” I said happily, struck for the first time by the fact that I had an actual boyfriend. I turned the phone in my hand and shoved the screen toward Raj’s face. “Wanna see?”

  Raj flinched, a startled yip squeaking from his throat. “God, no!” He jerked back as if I’d thrust a rattlesnake at him.

  “Your loss.” I laughed as Raj, promptly and in desperation, picked up his conversation with Chain again.

  Seriously, sitting in the middle of a crowded cafeteria with an erection bulging down your leg under the table is not the most comfortable of situations. As much as I liked having Dwight on my mind, it was time to stop daydreaming about him so my testosterone levels could return to normal. I switched off picture mode and went instead to the Net.

  The night before last, while sulking in bed before getting to sleep, I’d done some surfing and stumbled across a chat room where thirty-seven people were having a lively discussion about the Young Avengers, a teenage superhero team featuring a gay couple. The only superheroes I knew of were the ones I’d seen in the movies or on the Boomerang channel or Cartoon Network, and none of them were gay. I was surprised to learn that in comics and graphic novels, at least, a growing number of heroes were coming out of the closet.

  There were only six people online when I returned to the chat room now. I was reading through the recent posts, trying to get up to speed on the current discussion, when an instant message popped up on my screen.

  GayGoon: Welcome back, GamePlaya.

  Hmm. I didn’t recall that particular screen name from the last chat. Unsure as to how I should respond, I answered nonetheless.

  GamePlaya4Life: What’s up?

  GayGoon: Great discussion about the Young Avengers night before last, huh?

  GamePlaya4Life: Yeah. I still say Hulkling is bi, not gay.

  GayGoon: U may be right. Not much of a discussion right now. I guess everybody’s at work.

  GamePlaya4Life: Yeah.

  GayGoon: But u’re here & I’m here.

  GamePlaya4Life: Yeah.

  GayGoon: What heroes do u think need to come out of the closet?

  GamePlaya4Life: Don’t know.

  GayGoon: I say Batman.

  GamePlaya4Life: WTF???? Batman is not gay.

  GayGoon: When a guy hangs around with that many Boy Wonders, he’s gay.

  I laughed.

  GamePlaya4Life: LMBAO!

  GayGoon: What r u up 2?

  GamePlaya4Life: Lunch. Killing time b4 getting back 2 the grind.

  GayGoon: Same here. Tell me about u.

  That set off alarms in my head. On the day Mom and Dad first granted me access to the Net, they warned me there were dangerous nutcases out there, and that I should never reveal any personal information or meet with anyone I communicated with online. I decided to stall.

  GamePlaya4Life: No. Tell me about u.

  GayGoon: OK. I’m 24, black, 6 ft 6, 220 lbs, weightlifter. Now u.

  He sounded hot. What harm could there be in giving him a few vital statistics, especially when I could just make them up if I wanted to?

  GamePlaya4Life: I’m 22, black, 6 ft 4, 190 lbs, also weightlifter.

  GayGoon: I’m in grad school. Work as accountant. U?

  My twenty-two-year-old weightlifter self deserved some prestige.

  GamePlaya4Life: First year med school.

  GayGoon: Grrrr. I want 2 play doctor with u.

  My groan was loud.

  GamePlaya4Life: XP!!!!

  GayGoon: ;-) OK, I deserve that. Bad pun. But u sound sexy.

  GamePlaya4Life: Got 2 go. Almost time 4 class.

  GayGoon: Like 2 talk 2 u again. Online 2nite?

  GamePlaya4Life: Don’t know. Maybe.

  GayGoon: Check u later.

  I turned off my phone and slipped it back into my pocket. “Hey, guys,” I said, interrupting Chain and Raj’s conversation, “I’m gonna stop by my locker and then head on to class. See ya later.”

  “Wait, I’ll come with you.” Chain shoveled the last of his veggie loaf and rice into his mouth. I felt another spike of resentment, wanting Chain to somehow pay for what he’d done to Jill.

  As I grabbed my backpack and started to get up, there was a quiet “Oops” above me. In almost the same instant, a weight crashed down on my back, knocking me against the edge of the table. Something thick, wet, and hot dribbled over my left shoulder. Instinctively, I shoved backward with my right arm, cursing.

  There was a sharp yelp, followed by the sound of stumbling feet and the clatter of falling dishes. Then came a solid thump and the scrape of metal across the tiled floor. I turned and saw a wide-eyed Carla sprawled on the floor behind me, leaning back against the next table. The kids who had been sitting there were on their feet, looking like a bunch of startled deer. The tray and dishes from the lunch Carla had been carrying were scattered between us. Her vegetable stew was dripping steadily down the left side of my blazer. I scowled down at her, my chest heaving with anger.

  Dr. Mott shoved his way through the crowd of kids gathering around us. “Let me through. Get back to your seats and let me through.” Once he was within range, he grabbed me by the elbow. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.

  I yanked my arm free, backing out of his reach. “She dumped her stew on me,” I snapped, never taking my eyes off Carla.

  “Dr. Mott, I tripped,” Carla said in a shaky voice. “It was an accident. I tripped, and Kyle knocked me down.”

  Carla’s face was the perfect picture of innocence and indignation, but I could see the hostility brimming beneath. I grabbed napkins, wiping at the mess on my blazer. This was no accident. “She’s lying—”

  “Quiet!” Dr. Mott snapped. He bent down to help Carla to her feet. “Are you all right?”

  “I think so,” she said. “I’m not really hurt or anything.” She shot me another offended look. “I tripped, my tray fell, and I couldn’t catch the bowl before it spilled on him. He knocked me down for something that wasn’t my fault.”

  “That’s a damn lie!” I protested.

  “I told you to be quiet! Both of you come with me.” With a steadying hand on Carla’s shoulder, Dr. Mott head
ed for the cafeteria entrance, motioning for me to follow. As I started after them, I caught sight of Ty, standing a short distance away to my left. His face, as he looked at me, burned with rage.

  THE sole inmate in detention, I sat in a desk at the back of the study hall, as far as I could get from the dough-bodied, bored-looking Mrs. Langstrom, today’s warden. Dr. Mott had sentenced me to two hours for shoving Carla. I spent the time doing my homework. Writing was a dicey endeavor. My wounded right hand had been aching dully ever since I used it to shove Carla off my back. Specks of blood had soaked through the bandages.

  I tried to erase the memory of the sneer on Carla’s face while Dr. Mott had chewed me out. My anger now was mostly with myself. Carla had played me, set me up, and I jumped right into her little snare. And even though she obviously hated me, I was ashamed of the fact that I’d pushed her down. She was small even for a girl, less than half my size. I could have really hurt her if I’d punched instead of pushed her.

  “Kyle?”

  I raised my head. Mrs. Langstrom was looking at her watch. “It’s a quarter ’til five. You only have fifteen minutes left. What say I give you time off for good behavior and we both get out of here?”

  “Okay, thanks, Mrs. Langstrom.” I smiled at her and started gathering up my books. By the time I had stuffed everything into my backpack, she was standing at the door, her purse and briefcase in hand.

  “Good night, Kyle,” she said as I walked past her. “Try to stay out of trouble tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The sun had begun to set. Cars were parked in driveways, and the windows of the houses I passed were beginning to light up as people settled in for the evening. I walked quickly, anxious to get to my own home.

  I pulled out my cell. Mrs. Langstrom had made me switch it off for detention. I turned it on again. There was a message from Mom, responding to the message I’d left telling her why I would be home late today. Once again, she was disappointed, and she was going to have Dad discuss my behavior with me this weekend. Jeez, I hated to cause her and Dad so much grief. I didn’t think of myself as a bad person. I just felt angry all the time, and I didn’t know what to do about it.

  There was a message from Chain, asking me to call him back. I thumbed his cell number on speed dial.

  He picked up after two rings. “Hey, man. Where are you?”

  “I just got out of detention, I’m heading home. Got your message. What’s up?”

  Chain’s sigh was thick with an emotion I couldn’t identify. “I went by to see Jill’s dad after I left school,” he said.

  That didn’t sound good. “Oh?” Then, before even considering whether it was wise to do so, I blurted, “Why the hell did you do that?”

  “I had to. I had to tell him what I did to her, putting those pictures and stuff in her locker, so he’d know why she tried to kill herself with those pills. And you know what? He told me that she wasn’t trying to kill herself. She ran home and took some diet pills, but not enough to really hurt her. She had this emotional meltdown and called her dad at work, and he came home and took her to the hospital. But she didn’t try to kill herself, man. She didn’t try to kill herself.”

  I could read the emotion in him now. Chain was relieved. It was good news that Jill had not been suicidal, but her situation was no less serious. And although she had been building toward a meltdown for some time now, it still seemed to me that Chain’s last stunt was the thing that pushed her over the edge. He had no right to feel relieved. “Okay, I’m glad to hear that, dude. But is she still in the hospital?”

  “Yeah. Her dad says the doctors might let her go home sometime next week if she keeps making progress. She’s getting counseling and stuff.”

  “What did her dad say when you told him what you did?”

  Chain didn’t say anything for a moment. “He got mad. He didn’t curse me out or scream at me or anything, but I could tell from the sound of his voice that he was pissed. He told me that it was wrong for me to do that, and he made me promise that I’d never do anything like that again. He said if I ever get worried about Jill again, I should come talk to him.”

  “You do know that what you did was stupid, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I know, you told me already. And you’re right. I keep hating myself for doing that to her.”

  A pang of guilt hit me. “Don’t hate yourself, man. Just… don’t do anything like that again. Okay?”

  “Believe me, I won’t. Listen, I gotta go. My mom’s expecting me to haul my butt on home for dinner. See ya tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. Later, man.”

  After disconnecting the call, I checked text messages. There was one from Dwight that had come through almost an hour ago.

  Dwight: Tests done. Whew! Want 2 hang out this weekend?

  Right away, I texted back in the affirmative, suggesting Friday evening. After the week I’d had so far, I’d go out with a girl if that’s what it took to get away from myself.

  I was anxious to see Dwight again. It sucked that we were in different schools and couldn’t be with each other every day. More and more, he was in my thoughts, and my mind took off in wild, exciting directions when I imagined what would happen the next time we were alone together.

  Sixteen

  “MOM, I’m home.” I dropped my backpack by the door, took off my blazer with its dried food stain, draping it over the back of a chair, and grabbed the first-aid kit. I went straight to the half bath across from the laundry room and changed the bloodied bandages on my wound, cleaning both hands in the process. Tired and hungry, I returned to the kitchen and peeked into the pots and pans simmering on the stove. I was expecting Mom to be in another of her bad moods after my pulling detention again, resulting in some thrown-together supper. The steaming cookware held braised pork chops, roasted asparagus, wild rice, and steamed corn. An actual meal, thank God.

  Mom came into the kitchen, looking relaxed for once. “Hi, there. Dinner’s just about ready.”

  “Can I help with anything?”

  “You can set the table.” She got four rolls from a package in the freezer and placed them in a baking pan.

  I started gathering plates and glasses. “Are we having company tonight?”

  “No. It’s just the two of us.” She slid the pan of rolls into the oven and sat down at the table. When I brought the plates and glasses to the table, she said, “Kyle, I’m worried about you.”

  “Mom, stop with all the worrying. I’m okay.”

  “I don’t think you are. If there’s something going on with you, something at school, whatever it is, I wish you would tell me or your father. You can talk to us about anything, you know.”

  “I know that. And if something comes up that I need you guys for, I’ll definitely come to you.” I arranged a plate, glass, and silverware on the placemat in front of her.

  “Well, it’s obvious that something is going on with you. You haven’t had any trouble at school in over a year, and now you pull two detentions in one week.”

  “I know that might seem like a big deal, but it really wasn’t. The first one was for not paying attention in class. The second one was for pushing this girl after she spilled her lunch on me in the cafeteria. And I know I overreacted pushing her like that, and Dr. Mott already made me apologize to her, and I am sorry that it happened. So it’s nothing for you to stress about, see?”

  As I was setting up a place for myself, Mom patted my left hand. “Sit down,” she said. A groan rumbled in my chest, too low for her to hear it. After I had sat, she said, “Is something going on between you and Ty?”

  “Sort of. Did Ty say something to you?” The idea that Ty had run and told on me to my mommy almost made me laugh.

  “Reece called. He said that Ty came home upset, and when Reece asked what was wrong, Ty would only say that he hated your guts.”

  I shrugged. “Well, he probably does hate me right now. That girl I pushed in the cafeteria today? She’s his girlfriend.” No way w
as I going to mention the rest of it.

  Mom looked enlightened, relieved, and concerned, all at the same time. “Oh. I guess that explains that. You didn’t hurt this girl, did you?”

  “No, she’s okay. I promise.”

  “Well, I’d hate for there to be problems between you and Ty—”

  “Don’t worry about it, Mom. We’ll work it out.”

  “I hope you do. By the way, you got a delivery today.” She nodded at the counter by the fridge.

  I got up and retrieved a small, flat packet wrapped in shiny blue gift packaging, complete with a neat bow on top. Ripping it open, I looked in and everything inside me lit up. “Jeez! It’s the new Call of Duty!”

  “A video game?” Even Mom looked impressed at the gift. “Well, who sent you that?”

  I looked at the card that had been tucked beneath the game. Something nice for a nice guy. Thinking of you, Dwight. “It’s from Dwight,” I answered, surprised.

  “The guy you had over here Saturday?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He must really like you.”

  Crossing back to the table with the game in my hand, I sat down at the table again, staring at the card. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “And I take it you really like him.”

  I nodded, uncertain how else to answer. It was true that I liked Dwight a lot, but I wasn’t sure how Mom felt about my hanging around with him after what she saw Saturday. Maybe she thought he was corrupting me or something.

  Mom gave me a penetrating look. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah,” I replied loudly. “Jesus! Why are you hassling me about this?”

  “I’m not ‘hassling’ you. My God, what is going on with you these days? Can’t I have a conversation with you without it turning into an argument?”

  She was right. I was filled with aggravation and spewing every bit of it at her. I drew in a deep breath and held it, trying to calm down. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”

  “Kyle, I realize you and this boy feel ready to be intimate, but you have to make sure you act responsibly toward each other. I’m not saying that I—”