by Radclyffe
“Now, that would be cool.” He smiled at me and for a brief moment, I wanted to lean in and kiss him, but he turned away before I could do anything.
Afterward, he gave me a few CDs of his favorite composers and songs. I listened to them before I fell asleep each night, some songs sad, some adventurous, and some mystical.
*
“Can I ask you something?” A few days later, after he had just finished playing another round, we stood outside the piano building. Nighttime was quickly approaching—the sky had darkened, and a few stars were already visible through the tree branches above us. The campus seemed desolate and quiet, as if everyone had gone home.
“Sure, anything.”
“What about you? What do you want to do with your life?”
“Help people, I guess. Through counseling or something.”
He nodded. “You could do that. You’re a great listener.”
“And you’re a great composer.”
I was about to ask if he had a girlfriend or something, but he realized he was late for dinner with his family and hurried away. This would be about the seventh time I would have to report back to Tiffany and tell her that I was too chicken to ask him.
“Come on, Will! What happened to making your own miracles happen?” she said later. We sat on her bedroom floor, cutting out pictures from magazines for one of her class projects.
“I know, I know, I know!”
She pointed her scissors at me. “Obviously, you don’t! We need to make sure our pact doesn’t come true!”
We had made a pact earlier that year that if we didn’t find the love of our lives by the time we were forty years old, we’d move to the gay capital of England, Brighton, and just live out our lives there. We needed somewhere that was very far away, and a place where English was the dominant language. So that gay beach town seemed like the best place to go.
And then one day, I hurried down the hall to the piano room, eager to arrive early. A piano melody wafted through the air, and I recognized the melody as my grandma’s favorite song. My hands began to shake with anticipation as my chest swelled with emotion—nostalgia for my grandma’s sweet smile as she listened to the music combined with my continuing fascination with Wesley. I arrived at the door, turned the knob slowly, and walked in unnoticed. His eyes were closed again. The notes wafted through the air, lighter than feathers. Each of his fingers struck each key with such careful precision, with just the right amount of force, and I couldn’t help but admire it. This was what passion looked like.
“It’s a beautiful song,” he said.
“It was my grandma’s favorite,” I said. “Thanks for playing it at her funeral.”
He looked up at me, where I could finally see his face in full detail. Light freckles were sprinkled along his cheeks. His eyes were blue with speckles of brown. His hair looked softer than my childhood teddy bear and just as dark.
“That was your grandma?”
I nodded. “Every time she listened to that song, she just seemed so happy. And it made me happy to see her like that. And that’s how I feel when I listen to you play.”
He leaned forward and kissed me. And I kissed back.
The excitement from his lips overwhelmed me. They were smoother than I ever imagined them to be. I touched his back, his arms, his face. He touched my arms, gentle yet strong. I never wanted to let go of that perfect moment. I felt like the luckiest guy in the world, for I was kissing a boy who had genuine kindness and love.
My wish had finally come true.
He then sat down and played the song again from the start. I sat beside him, looking from his kind face to his graceful hands and up to his face again. I was in a dream, surely. A daydream, a night dream, just a dream.
Students strode by the room and saw us cuddling together. Some smiled and carried on with their day, while others gawked at us like we were animals locked in a zoo. Society seemed divided, but it didn’t matter. I had a piano and I had a boy, and that was all I needed in that one moment.
And as I walked to class, I made a mental note to give Tiffany the honor of finally cutting off my bracelet.
Crystal Crisis
A.J. Slater
“Psst,” Crystal whispered, trying to get Ryan’s attention. “Ryan,” she tried a second time. When her best friend finally picked up her bookmark, signaling she was out of her reverie, Crystal asked, “Can I borrow a pencil?”
“Sure.” Ryan laughed at the familiarity of the scene. She was so used to it that she called it déjà vu. As usual, Crystal had yesterday’s homework in front of her, rushing to get it done before their English teacher remembered to collect it. And usually adding to Crystal’s daily chaos, it was a regular problem trying to find a working pencil.
“Cheerleading practice or Justin?” Ryan inquired while nodding toward the unfinished work. She handed over the spare writing implement she always kept in her backpack just for any kind of “Crystal Crisis.”
“Both,” Crystal grunted as she scribbled down half-thought-out answers. “He picked me up after practice and every time I tried to get out of his gigantic truck, he would find an excuse to call me back in.”
Crystal had beautiful blond hair with highlights that made it shine, and she had sparkling blue eyes to match. She could have been a model if her heart desired, with her long legs and a toned body. Every teenage boy craved to get their hands on her. Crystal’s most unique feature, however, was a small birthmark on the back of her neck that resembled a dove.
“Would any of these excuses have anything to do with his twenty-four-seven hard-on?” Ryan joked.
Crystal mimicked throwing up in her mouth and Ryan laughed out loud. This was the only part of her day when she felt at peace. The rest of the day she was habitually looking over her shoulder. As soon as she left the room, something awful was bound to happen—her books would be thrown to the floor, or she’d be slammed into the dirty, beige walls, or someone would trip her into a group of freshmen who knew enough about the pecking order to let her fall to the floor.
“Why do you date him if he grosses you out so much?” Ryan asked as Crystal finished the homework just in time to pass it to the front of the classroom.
Crystal shrugged nonchalantly. “Peer pressure. I’m the captain of the cheerleaders and he’s the captain of the basketball team. Apparently we were made for each other.” Crystal mocked her own words by adding air quotation marks with her fingers. “I’m so breaking up with him at the end of the season or when someone more adorable and smarter asks me out.”
Ryan took a huge gulp. She was undoubtedly smarter than Justin, and Crystal was always telling her how adorable she was. Is Crystal hinting at me? She couldn’t be, could she? Ryan quickly faced the front awkwardly. Crystal was her only friend, though if anyone knew it, they both would be slaughtered for interrupting the status quo. Ryan wouldn’t ruin their relationship by hitting on her.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but smile and blush at the thought. Crystal was her one and only high school crush. The dream of them enjoying a night out at the movies or the bowling alley was one that Ryan welcomed.
“What the hell are you smiling about, you fag?”
“Justin, leave her alone, she’s not bothering you.”
Ryan heard Crystal come to her defense. She hadn’t seen anything because she ducked her head as an automatic response to the sound of Justin’s voice. This was how a horrible day always began. Some jock or popular girl would disturb Ryan’s only time with Crystal. After that, the day wasn’t even worth going through the motions for.
“She might not be bothering me, but Janna says she’s bothering you,” Justin said.
This is going to be bad, Ryan thought. Real Bad.
“I asked her for a pencil and she loaned me one.”
Ryan looked up to see that Crystal had gotten to her feet and was now standing between her and Justin’s bulky body.
“Well, Janna said she was asking you questions, practically forci
ng you to laugh and talk like old college buddies.”
Ryan saw Janna flanking Justin as if she were his bodyguard. She had a smug look on her face that Ryan wished she could slap off. The face of a lying, evil witch.
“So what?”
“Huh?” Justin seemed just as shocked as Ryan was.
“Ryan and I were talking. We talk every morning. In fact, I think she knows more about me than you do.” Crystal poked his broad chest for emphasis.
“You know her name?” Janna seemed flabbergasted at the revelation.
“Yes, Janna,” Crystal announced, clearly annoyed by the idiotic question. “Not everyone likes being called by the name you pick for them. I know this will come as a shock, but some people actually like to be called by their birth name instead of geek, fag, or whatever else your small vocabulary can come up with.”
Janna gasped in shock and Justin looked speechless.
“She’s my best friend, so leave her alone!” Crystal demanded of the crowd that had formed around them.
“What about Justin? Your reputation?” Janna squeaked.
Ryan wondered how someone could be so worried about something so trivial and clichéd. Then again, as a total outsider, she really didn’t know what kind of “pressure” students faced trying to maintain the status quo.
“I know it’s hard to believe right now, Janna, but reputation isn’t everything, and my relationship with Justin is as fake as those things you call boobs.”
Ryan’s mouth flew open at Crystal’s words. Crystal was throwing away everything every teenager works so hard for—popularity. Crystal was easily the prettiest girl in school, and she had an attitude no one ever messed with and a heart that was filled with joy and care, although her other popular friends never paid any attention to it.
Ryan observed as everybody stared at Crystal in astonishment. When one tried to utter a question, Crystal shut them up. “I’m done with all of this crap. I’m done with popularity, this school and its stupid ‘status quo,’ and I’m especially done with you, Justin.”
“You little bitch.” Justin pushed Crystal up against the wall. “Are you breaking up with me?” With his wide shoulders and muscular arms, he had no trouble holding the 120-pound girl against the wall.
Ryan and Crystal began a joint effort to push Justin away. Crystal spat in his face and Ryan attempted to pull him back using all the strength at her disposal. She felt every muscle bunch under her T-shirt and her thighs strained against her jeans until both she and Justin and fell to the tangerine carpet.
“Is there a problem back here?” Ms. Adams, their teacher, had finally looked up from her computer long enough to see the chaos breaking out in the back of the classroom.
“No ma’am,” one of Justin’s basketball buddies answered for all of them as the big group that had formed anticipating a fight dispersed.
Ms. Adams watched as the kids took their seats and then turned to begin the day’s lesson.
“You are dead meat after class,” Justin whispered between Ryan and Crystal. Ryan didn’t have to ask to know he was talking to her.
*
“Baby, are you okay?”
Ryan snapped out of her thoughts and found ocean blue eyes staring back at her in concern. “Huh?” Dumbfounded after remembering her last day of high school, she couldn’t find words to speak to her lover, Maxine.
“Where did you just go?” Maxine reached over the table to grasp Ryan’s hand. They had been happily in love for the past three years, so Ryan knew that Maxine would not let this go with a simple “I’m okay.”
Ryan looked at Maxine and finally felt at ease. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Ryan wanted to reach over and brush the loose black curl behind Maxine’s ear, but instead kept her hand in her lap.
They might be forever lovers, but neither enjoyed a lot of public displays of affection, and Ryan was careful not to show almost any in this particular area. While she was eager to celebrate her father’s sixtieth birthday, unfortunately that also meant visiting the place her parents had raised her. Bad dreams and random memories had been plaguing her since their arrival.
“I was thinking about a past memory.” Ryan tried playing it cool so she wouldn’t worry Maxine too much.
“Please talk to me,” Maxine begged.
Ryan forced a smile to try to lessen the pain she saw in her lover’s eyes. She nodded toward the back of the restaurant, and Maxine swiftly turned to look. “That woman is Janna Davis. She helped get me kicked out of school.”
Ryan had told her parts of the story, so she knew Maxine wouldn’t need much of an explanation.
“Is it hard seeing her?” Maxine gently asked.
“A little,” Ryan answered. “It was just a bit of a shock. She came out of the kitchen with that stupid smirk.” The same smirk—blood-red lips curved in a pasted-on smile, and above, the eyes of a snake.
“It looks like she went real far,” Maxine said dryly. “A manager at a franchise restaurant in her home town. Sounds real exciting.”
“Probably still as much of a bitch, though.” Ryan relaxed a little, but tensed again almost immediately as Janna approached. “Looks like we’re about to find out.”
“I’m sorry, but do I know you?” Janna asked innocently. Janna had deep red manicured fingernails that could probably scratch a hole in diamonds, they were so sharp. Her cheap lipstick matched, but her makeup did little to cover the malevolent wrinkles.
“You probably know of her,” Maxine jumped in before Ryan had the chance to answer. “She’s a well-known movie director.” She proceeded to inform Janna of Ryan’s latest success.
“Maxine,” Ryan grunted. She hated for the attention to be put on her, especially in an area that hated her as much as she hated it.
“Sorry, baby, I’m just so proud of you.”
Ryan laughed at Maxine’s noticeable delight. She was clearly telling Janna that she had made a mistake all those years ago. Maxine laced their fingers together as the conversation continued. Ryan even felt her promise ring being turned and twisted up and down her ring finger.
“Actually,” Ryan glanced at Maxine for strength, “I believe we went to high school together. My name is Ryan Campbell.” At Janna’s evident look of confusion, Ryan continued, “You probably would remember me as ‘the fag.’ I was the only out lesbian in school.”
“Oh right.” Janna gave an awkward giggle and stepped back. “Kids, huh?” Ryan could tell that Janna remembered the last day they had seen each other. For all she knew, everybody still joked about a day that had filled her with misery for years. Janna wasn’t going to own up to her mistakes—that much was clear.
“I must be going now. Work, work, work.” Janna giggled, crimson lips curved into the parody of a grin, and ran off.
“Seriously?” Maxine looked baffled. Her mouth, usually greeting strangers with a big smile, was now a straight line. “I guess you’re right—she is still a bitch.”
Ryan laughed halfheartedly at Maxine’s statement. Then Maxine asked a question they both needed the answer to. “Why didn’t you tell her how much she messed up? How you are this awesome director and people actually ask for your autograph? Why didn’t you make her regret that day as much as you hate it?”
“Because the last time I tried,” Ryan now had tears in her eyes, “it nearly killed me.”
*
“Justin, please.” Ryan listened as Crystal yelled from behind her. “Just leave us alone. We won’t bother you ever again.” Crystal was in tears, sobbing out her words.
I’m so sorry, Crystal. You don’t deserve this, I messed up everything for you. Ryan continued to apologize in silence. She knew begging for mercy wouldn’t help. She tried to jerk around when she heard Crystal scream in pain, but Justin had too good a grip on her. He’d had that grip since she took her first step outside of her English classroom.
“Let me go!” Crystal yelled again.
Ryan attempted to squirm free, but it was still no use.
&nb
sp; “You’re going to watch everything!” Ryan heard one of Justin’s buddies say.
“Please, Justin!” Crystal wasn’t going to give up. Crystal was a fighter; she wouldn’t let some idiots hurt them without fighting back. Unfortunately, Ryan knew from years of experience that only made it worse. “We are two harmless human beings, you don’t have to do this!”
“I’m going to make examples out of you two! No one crosses me!” Ryan heard a whole group cheer that seemed louder than any film premiere as Justin pushed her into the boys’ bathroom. He kicked a stall door open and gave Ryan her first taste of toilet water. Luckily, that’s all it was.
I’m so sorry, Crystal, please forgive me.
He pulled her out, and as she took a big breath, he pushed her in again.
“Justin!”
Ryan coughed when she felt air against her face.
“Having fun yet, lesbo?” Janna whispered in her ear. She felt Janna’s manicured nails scratch her scalp and twist in her hair. Justin let go of her neck and Janna used all her force to push her back down.
Ryan still heard the smack against Crystal’s skin even though she was underwater. She fought with everything she had against Janna; she had been no match for football player Justin, but anorexic Janna would be easy. She slammed Janna against the stall’s wall, and Janna shrieked in pain as she stumbled out. Ryan had just enough time to see Justin land another blow on Crystal before two jocks forced her into another one.
“Hold her down longer this time, fellas,” Janna said from behind them.
And they did—they held her head down until her lungs felt like they were on fire, her body felt overexhausted, and her eyes closed in a peaceful sleep.
*
“The next thing I remember is coughing up water and Crystal saying, ‘It’s going to be okay, stay with me, Ryan, please stay with me.’ She yelled for help as I rolled over on the floor and puked,” Ryan told Maxine as she drove to the drugstore. “She had done CPR with a few broken fingers, I was told later.”