Scar

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Scar Page 5

by Baylin Crow


  “Wow, ok.” I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry he asked you to lie to me.” Her eyes went wide, and I held up a hand. “It’s fine. Do you maybe have a pen and paper?”

  Her eyes held sympathy, and I didn’t want it. What I wanted was around here somewhere avoiding me. I’d leave this note and leave the ball in his court because what he was doing now wasn’t ok. If he wanted out of this, then he needed to tell me and not have his employee lie for him.

  “Sure,” she said as she pulled out a receipt book and ripped out a page. “And don’t hold it against me, yeah?”

  “Of course. It’s not your fault.” I shrugged and grabbed the paper and pen she held out for me. Most of the tables were empty so I grabbed one at the back so no one could see what I was writing in case they walked by and wrote a few lines. When I was done, I folded the paper in half and gave the pen back to Andi.

  “Thanks, I guess I’ll see you later,” I called to her and thought I heard her softly say “I hope so.”

  Climbing the stairs to his apartment made me think about the way we had come down those stairs only hours before. Last night I had felt elated, especially when he had flashed me a warm smile. Today was different. There was a feeling of defeat that I couldn’t shake, and when I knocked on his door and received no reply, it only worsened. I slid the note out of my pocket and under the slight space beneath the door. When I stood back up, I gave the door one last look and left hoping he’d actually read it. Hope was a dangerous thing because it could either lead to something you really wanted, or it could be crushed, leaving bruises in its wake.

  Thankfully when I arrived home, the guys weren’t there, so I made a sandwich and went down the hall to my room. I needed a way to get my mind off of Beard, so I grabbed my laptop and booted it up. There was a test I needed to study for, and as hard as I tried to focus, I couldn’t help but check my phone for a new text repeatedly. This was getting pathetic. Finally, I gave up. The notes that I had taken during the lecture might as well been written in another language for all I could make sense of them. Instead, I made myself comfortable by tossing my shirt off and ridding myself of the track pants I had been wearing. The heater was turned on because, unlike me, Josh and Miles tended to get cold easy. I flipped on the TV and lost myself in mindless reality shows.

  I felt myself dozing off as commercials were playing when the sound of an incoming text had me fumbling for my phone on the side table. When the screen lit up with Beard’s name, I breathed a sigh of relief quickly followed by nerves. With a deep breath, I unlocked my phone and pulled up the message.

  Beard: Come outside.

  Shit. He was here? I jumped out of bed and tossed on the first thing that I could find which happened to be the clothes I had carelessly tossed off earlier. Doing a quick mirror check, I decided it was good enough and cupped my hands in front of my mouth to do a smell check, just in case. I knew that I had better get outside before he changed his mind and left.

  I spotted Beard’s truck parked across the road and quickly jogged towards it. Not even looking at him, I rounded the vehicle and opened the passenger side door. The smile I had been wearing slowly melted away when I looked into his eyes. He looked angry. His tense jaw, clenched fists and the rigid way he held himself made me realize his reason for being here didn’t bode well for me.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. I guess I had been hoping that he had just been busy today and I had been wrong about everything. Looking at him now, I knew that wasn’t the case, but I couldn’t let go of the way he had been when it was just the two of us together.

  Beard reached into his pocket and pulled out my folded note. I was surprised he hadn’t crumpled it up and tossed it or torn it to shreds. I jerked when he thrust it towards me and shoved the paper in my hand.

  “You have to stop this,” he demanded. His face was void of all emotion, and I felt my stomach drop. I had been wrong. Very wrong and now I just felt like an ass.

  I slumped down in the seat. “Right.” I nodded and paused for a beat. “Can you just tell me why? I need to know so I can just let this go. I honestly thought there was something here.” I waved my hand between the two of us. “Or I wouldn’t have pursued this, so I’m sorry if I was wrong. Obviously, I was.” I shook my head feeling stupid and mad at myself. If only I had listened to him the first time he had said that this wasn’t going to happen. Last night must have been a fluke, and he was just horny or something. I cleared my throat to mask the emotion as best as I could and tried to smile but it fell short, so I looked away instead.

  Beard didn’t respond right away, but he did curse under his breath. When I couldn’t help but look back at him, he was staring down into his lap. “You can’t really want this, Soccer. So why are you pushing it?”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Of course I want this. I’ve done enough to show you that.” Was he crazy? “Am I missing something? Is there someone else?” Shit, I hadn’t even considered it because I’d never seen anyone with him. “Do you, uh, have a boyfriend already? Or a girlfriend?” I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  Beard looked at me like he couldn’t believe I had just asked him that. “Of course not! I’m not even into women in that way. Fuck.” His eyes closed. He seemed to be having a hard time saying what came out of his mouth next. “What happened last night, what we did, would never have happened if I had been involved with anyone. You should never question that.”

  “I’m having a hard time following all of this. Is it just me? If you’re not into it, you should just tell me.” I braced myself for the words that would mean the end and there wouldn’t be a thing I could do about it.

  “Of course I’m into you. For fuck’s sake, all I can think about is you. You are ruining everything that I’ve tried so hard to ignore. I can still feel you and can’t even sit on my own couch without remembering every detail of having your mouth on me and the look in your eyes while you watched me. You’ve got my head so fucked up, I can’t think straight.” His voice had risen throughout his rant that he was practically yelling at me. I couldn’t even respond for several beats because I was trying to process what the hell he was saying. He wasn’t making any sense.

  “I don’t understand what the problem is then,” I said honestly. “I want you, and after what you just said, you feel the same so why are you pushing me away?”

  He looked me straight in the eyes with so much pain that I could almost feel the agony that I saw there. He seemed to be battling some inner demon. “Tell me,” I urged.

  I saw the moment that he made his decision, and he blew out a deep breath. His face calmed, but his hands were still clenched tight.

  “When I was in college, I already had come to terms with my sexuality, but I wasn’t ready to tell anyone. Some of the guys that I knew would throw around words like “fag” and things to taunt each other and every time I heard one, it reinforced my decision to keep it to myself until I was ready to deal with the fallout.” He paused for a long moment, staring out of the window. He seemed a million miles away, but I hung on to every word, trying to understand what had happened to make him this way. I didn’t say a word, was even scared the sound of my breathing would make him stop talking, so I sat and waited until he was ready to continue.

  “I had gone with a few of my friends to a party at one of the frat houses.” His face twisted in disgust when he mentioned friends. “I hadn’t acted on my attraction towards other guys, yet. I think I was just scared but I met someone there, who had he not blatantly flirted with me when we were outside alone, I would have never thought about. By the time I had had several beers, I found out he was one of the house members. He invited me up to his room and curiosity, along with being buzzed, got the better of me. Not to mention that I was sexually frustrated beyond hell as you can probably imagine. I was most likely the only one in that house that was a virgin.” I gasped in shock. The man in front of me always seemed so in control and intense; envisioning the younger version of him being inexperience
d and unsure of himself was hard to picture. He chuckled, and I felt a pang of envy when he talked about another man but knew he needed to tell me everything, so I continued to keep quiet.

  “Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “when we got up to his room. He shut the door and was on me so fast I couldn’t even think. I was excited and nervous but he didn’t seem to share the hesitation, and it made it easier with him taking the lead. He broke away from me and told me not to tell anyone. I said I wouldn’t and the next thing I knew, we had moved to the bed. Things, uh, progressed and he wasn’t very gentle.” I couldn’t see his face very well in the dark but I knew he was probably embarrased. I placed my hand on his thigh to show him he was safe to tell me everything and he blew out a breath and slowly placed his hand over mine, giving it a squeeze.

  “It wasn’t what I thought it would be like but in the end, it hadn’t been too bad. I hadn’t finished,” he mumbled, “but I figured that was probably because of the pain. When I left, we exchanged numbers and even though I was a little cautious, I ended up going back. Since I didn’t want to tell anyone about myself and I knew he was into it, I thought it had seemed like a good idea at the time. I was attracted to him, so that helped. The second time was better, and it became a usual thing. He always wanted to top so I never… well, never mind. I was just glad that with at least one person I could be myself after so long of hiding.” Was he saying what I thought he was? There was no way that was possible.

  “One night we were right in the middle of things when his door opened. Apparently, some of the guys were suspicious and Trent, the guy I was with, hadn’t locked the door. It was pretty obvious what was going on, so neither of us denied anything but Trent did yell for them to get out.”

  He let go of my hand, and I felt how his had grown clammy. He ran his palms over his jeans and sighed. “The guys at the house told some of the guys I hung out with what they had seen. The insults and jeers started right away. I even saw Trent a few times, but he ignored me completely. I’m not exactly sure what happened to him because I wasn’t there for much longer. Four days after that happened, I had left the dorm to go grab some food. While I was walking through a particularly dark area of the parking lot, I was hit hard with something on the side of my face.” He reached up and grabbed his jaw rubbing the area that must have taken the brunt. “I never even saw who it was because they came from behind, but there were at least three of them. Those assholes jumped me. I was even bigger than I am now so I guess that’s why they decided not to take any chances. Anyway, I was beaten pretty badly. I remember thinking it had to be Trent but then something they said let me know how wrong I was.”

  “What did they say?” I asked, knowing he’d shared more than enough to understand what he’d gone through. Now I wanted to know because I hated whoever had hurt him. My chest felt tight, and my eyes welled with unshed tears for him.

  “Doesn’t matter.” He straightened back up. “I left and moved in with my grandfather. At the time, I had been so screwed up that I told him everything. He didn’t care at all about who I dated. He said he only wanted me to be happy and I told him that would never happen because I’d never go through that again. So here I am. Alone and miserable.” He opened his arms.

  I blinked away the tears before they could fall but it was too late because Beard had seen them. “You are not alone,” I managed to get out.

  Seven

  Beard

  Soccer was the first person I had told the story to, other than my grandfather and even when I had told him, I had been too embarrassed to give him all the details. Reliving it hadn’t been easy, and I was embarrassed, but Soccer’s hand had never left my leg, and the support had made it bearable. Seeing him close to crying, for me, ripped my heart out and made me want to give him whatever he wanted from me.

  “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he said and reached for my jaw where I had been hit. My instinct was to pull away before he could feel like jagged scar that ran the length of my jaw from where it had been split open on the right side. His hand paused and I knew he had found it even though the sensation over the scar tissue was muted. I had lost a lot of sensitivity over the area. He pulled his hand away after he had slowly traced the scar with his finger.

  “Is that why you grew this?” he asked giving my beard a gentle tug.

  “Yeah, I grew it out a little to cover it and then just never bothered to really cut it. Didn’t really see the point.” I shrugged. I hadn’t seen the point. I wasn’t going to date so why did it matter if I was clean shaven or groomed. I did keep it trimmed so I didn’t look completely homeless, but I put in the least amount of effort possible. The idea seemed ridiculous now, and it wasn’t like I ignored the rest of me. It had just been my one act of rebellion to prove to myself that I didn’t care if anyone found me attractive. Now it was just a part of me, and I had grown used to it.

  “Well if you were trying to hide the way you look, you did a shit job. You’ve had my attention from the first time I sat at one of your tables.” He smiled coyly, and I was grateful he was trying to lighten the mood, but I still had to let him know that I couldn’t be responsible if something like that happened to him because of me. I would never let him get hurt if it could be avoided, but he was making letting him go nearly impossible.

  “Soccer, what I’m trying to tell you is that people can be unpredictable. There are many people out there that have extreme beliefs that who we are is wrong, or what we do isn’t right. I never want to see you be hurt in that way so this has to stop.” My eyes pleaded with him for understanding and to make this easier for both of us.

  “Beard,” he said softly, “I’m already out. Have been since freshman year. Mine was a non-incident. I think what happened to you was because of a few cruel people, who you were unlucky enough to come across. Being who you are isn’t a bad thing, and I understand your hesitation. Believe me, I do.” He looked away as he eyes grew watery. “And I wish I could take away what happened to you.”

  I hadn’t said anything because, frankly, I was in shock. Soccer was out. I should have seen it. The way his friends left him behind that night, everything was starting to make sense. He had never tried to hide anything. It had been me this whole time trying to hide. So I focused on the one thing that stuck out the most to me.

  “Your team? They know you’re gay?” I didn’t want to feel envy about his situation. Soccer was the light to my dark. He deserved everyone’s admiration no matter who or what he was, but I couldn’t help but ask why? Why had it been so different for me? It was just a reminder that life wasn’t fair and we all had to manage the best we could with the hand we were dealt.

  He nodded his head. “They know, and they’ve even tried to set us up.” He waggled his brows, and I shook my head at his ability to shake off the bad things in life and make it look easy.

  “When they left you at the bar, right?” A smile finally managed to break its way through the hurt it took to relive that part of my life.

  “Yeah, the assholes,” he replied. I laughed because it was obvious that those assholes were good friends to him. He quieted, and I let the silence blanket us as I was lost in thought. “So what now?” he asked.

  “What do you want?” I returned.

  “I just want to know you. Every part. The good and the bad.” I looked over at him, studying every inch of his face and made a decision.

  “Do you need anything from your house?” He looked at me in question.

  “No, and my roommates are home, so I don’t need to lock up, why? Taking me away?”

  I reached across his body, my hands barely grazing his chest through the soft material of his shirt. He sucked in a breath, but I kept going until I reached the seatbelt. I pulled it across his body and latched it.

  “Where are we going?” Soccer asked when I pulled away from the curb onto the silent road.

  “My place and you really need to start wearing a jacket.” He laughed, once again sounding carefree and easing my nerves
marginally. I was probably making a huge mistake but at least I knew Soccer wouldn’t face any consequences now and that made it impossible for me to tell him no.

  When we got back to my place, I had managed to make myself nervous again but for different reasons. He probably expected something to happen and I’d be lying if I wasn’t thinking along the same lines, so I went straight to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. “You want one?” I offered Soccer, who had already made himself at home lying on the couch.

  “As long as you come sit with me.”

  I popped the top on each bottle and made my way to the couch. He sat up and took up the middle cushion, forcing me beside him regardless of the side I chose, not that I minded. Taking a drink, I look over at him and lift my shoulders. “So what do you want to know?”

  “Huh?” Soccer asks looking confused.

  “Eyes up here,” I reprimanded him because he had been focused more on my body than what we were supposed to be talking about. “You said you want to know me, so what do you want to know?”

  “Oh, right,” he said, clearing his throat. “When did you move here?”

  “I’ve been here for four years now. I left college my junior year and came to stay with my grandfather. His house is about thirty minutes away from here on a lakeside property, and I spent a lot of summers with him and my grandmother growing up. The bar belonged to him and my grandmother. We lost her when I was still just growing up, and the bar was passed down to me when he passed away last year.” I grew quiet for a moment just remembering him. My grandmother was amazing, and I missed her all the time, but my grandfather had also been my best friend and father figure. “Anyway after what happened, I couldn’t imagine going anywhere else.”

  “Can I ask what happened to your grandfather?”

  It was getting easier to talk about him, but it didn’t make me miss him any less, and for some reason I wanted Soccer to know the important parts of me and a big part of me was my grandfather. “He died from a heart attack. No one saw it coming. I was with him when it happened…” I trailed off.

 

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