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Freakboy

Page 13

by Kristin Elizabeth Clark


  sit

  staring

  at

  the

  blank

  TV

  screen.

  A

  nation

  of

  two.

  After

  a

  civil

  war.

  (BRENDAN)

  My Heart

  didn’t beat for

  ten minutes.

  My worlds colliding.

  Angel Vanessa

  Vandalizing trans boyfriend.

  It took all I had

  to act casual,

  and then annoyed.

  All I had

  to turn

  to Vanessa

  after she apologized

  to kiss

  to cuddle.

  And when she fell for

  my Brendan-the-everyday-guy routine

  I became the ugliest hypocrite

  in the universe.

  “Trust me,” I told her.

  But my lie is so much bigger

  than anything

  she could imagine.

  Trust me not to cheat

  trust me to treat you well

  trust me to make love to you

  trust me to guard your reputation

  afterward.

  Just don’t trust me

  to be who I say I am. I lie.

  Guilt Is Beach Sand

  on a second-degree burn

  keeping you up

  at night

  no comfortable

  way to rest.

  Be honest

  with people

  you care about.

  Impossible,

  right?

  But maybe

  there’s a

  guilt-lessening

  trade-off?

  Sort of

  aloe vera

  on a sunburn.

  Not honesty

  about everything

  but there is something—

  a position that will

  allow for sleep.

  (Angel)

  1 a.m.: The Phone Rings

  Fish it out of my purse

  at the end of my bed.

  Denai groans, covers her head

  with her pillow—she has work at seven.

  Caller ID says Bren.

  Phone to ear

  I stumble into the bathroom

  so D can get back to sleep.

  “Brendan? Everything okay?”

  And he’s off and talking so fast

  my sleepy head can’t hardly keep up.

  “… can’t stop thinking about

  what you said about honesty

  and I have to tell you something

  but first I want you to know I’m

  already making up for it by

  sending money.”

  “Huh?”

  “Every week I send

  money to Willows.”

  And now I’m wide awake.

  “Twenty-five bucks cash?

  Blue envelope?”

  “Yeah.”

  He takes a breath.

  I hear it.

  “And I promise I’ll keep sending

  it until the window’s paid for.”

  I’m all the way alert

  but might as well be asleep,

  can’t think of one word to say.

  “Angel?”

  Find my voice.

  “You the one broke it?”

  He starts talking fast again.

  “I’m sorry and

  I’m making it up

  because I really am sorry—

  I feel so bad.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I broke the window!”

  “No, I mean why’d you break it?”

  And now he’s quiet

  like he’s the one can’t

  think of a thing to say.

  “I don’t know.”

  It’s an effort, keepin’ my voice low

  so I don’t wake up everyone

  in the apartment.

  “You mean to tell me

  you threw a rock through a window,

  freaked a lot of people out, making

  ’em think it was some kinda

  asshole hate crime and

  You Don’t Know Why?”

  “No.”

  At least he sounds miserable.

  “But I’m paying for it

  and if there was anything more

  I could do, I would.”

  Which gets me to thinking.

  He could come in and apologize

  to the community like Liberty had to—

  let everyone see the monster

  under the bed was just some

  punk-ass kid …

  Only one problem with that.

  Dr. Martina might not appreciate me

  bein’ friends with Brendan.

  I been tellin’ myself it’s okay—

  technically he’s not a client

  but he was a potential one

  when he stopped by.

  It’s a lot to explain.

  “Angel? You still there?”

  “I got a lot to think about, Brendan.

  I gotta go.”

  He’s quiet.

  “I understand.”

  I know I’m the first one

  to hang up.

  “No Idea What to Do,”

  I say to Marcus.

  We’re drinkin’ coffee

  at his favorite place

  and I’m tellin’ him about Brendan,

  the broken window, his sending money,

  and how I’m not sure I can tell

  Dr. Martina what happened

  without explaining how I met him.

  The Bean Scene has kick-ass mochas

  and beaded curtains and jazz.

  My favorite thing about it

  is that Marcus is comfortable taking me

  to places he likes to go.

  Means he’s not ashamed.

  “But he doesn’t seem

  like a hater?”

  Marcus asks.

  I swallow whipped cream.

  “Nuh-uh,” I tell him. “Even though

  he practically threw me out

  when his girlfriend came over.”

  “Maybe he has a crush on you—

  didn’t want her to find out,”

  he teases.

  That makes me smile.

  Marcus here’s thinking

  I’m so crush worthy and all.

  “Nah, nothin’ like that.

  I know there’s something

  goin’ on with him,

  just don’t know exactly…”

  “You’re so worried about him,

  you can’t stop thinking about it.”

  Marcus’s cocoa eyes crinkle; he

  leans forward—

  kisses me. “I like that about you.”

  He leans back again

  and I just can’t

  stop smiling

  even though

  that’s not what

  I was thinking at all.

  One of my favorite things

  is hearing what Marcus likes about me—

  and tellin’ him what I like about him.

  I decide to focus

  on that for now … Brendan later.

  (BRENDAN)

  Angel Was So Pissed Last Night

  she practically hung up on me.

  I don’t know what I was expecting.

  I spent the day

  kicking myself.

  Was I expecting some

  weird kind of

  absolution?

  No problem, Brendan.

  Thank you for confessing.

  You’re a vandalizing thug

  but at least you’re an honest one

  and I’m thrilled to be your friend.

  My heart’s

  a dried-up walnut

  that only opens

&nb
sp; at night

  when I’m Larissa.

  Hazardous

  An unlocked door should never be.

  Even with parents at rehearsal.

  The door should be locked.

  Even with Courtney asleep.

  The door should be locked.

  When it’s time to be myself.

  The door should be locked.

  It’s not about girly clothes.

  The door should be locked.

  It’s about having this silhouette.

  The door should be locked.

  It’s how I let go of worry.

  The door should be locked.

  It’s how I forget about trouble.

  The door should be locked.

  It’s how I like to do homework.

  The door should be locked.

  I concentrate better.

  The door should be locked.

  Words flow amazingly well.

  The door should be locked.

  Until they stop.

  “Dude.” Andy bursts in.

  The door should be locked.

  “What the Fu—”

  He can’t even finish

  the word.

  He’s gaping

  at

  me

  sitting at my desk

  in a green satin padded bra.

  No excuse.

  Nothing to say.

  This is what it looks like.

  His expression

  would be funny

  if it didn’t mean

  the end of my life.

  He bolts.

  Will He Tell?

  We’ve been friends

  since seventh grade.

  He wouldn’t

  ruin my life.

  He won’t tell.

  But there’s Lindy,

  who squeals when she comes.

  He tells me

  intimate details

  about his girlfriend.

  Of course he’ll tell.

  Awake All Night

  I consider ditching

  in the morning

  but there’s AP testing.

  Throat dry

  I go to school.

  Andy and I don’t have any

  classes together.

  Keep

  away from each other

  in the halls.

  After fourth period

  I see him with Flannigan.

  They’re looking at me

  and when I hear them laugh

  I know it’s out.

  My blood

  pools

  around my ankles.

  I knew he’d tell.

  And after school

  I know my life is over.

  Brendan Chase Is a Fag

  Thick, black Sharpie screams

  across blue locker room tile.

  The hair on

  my neck, my wrists, stands up.

  I glance around the room,

  metal doors clanking open

  slamming shut.

  “What are you looking at?”

  Gil snarls.

  “Nothing.” Duck my head

  focus on opening my lock.

  A voice comes out of

  a bathroom stall.

  “I’m changing in here, so

  the fag doesn’t get a free show.”

  Laughter.

  Then one by one

  my teammates go into the stalls.

  Rudy shoves me from behind

  on his way past.

  Stomach squeezes

  ears pound

  fingers fumble

  with a knot.

  I give up

  yank my wrestling shoe on

  without even untying it

  grab my bag

  push open the gym door.

  Bad idea to

  be in the locker room

  when Rudy and Gil come out.

  Rudy gets to me on the mat anyway.

  Reaches into his bag of illegal tricks

  to make wrestling really hurt.

  Coach looks away.

  And as I’m getting crunched into the mat,

  and to be honest, half hoping

  to get injured so I don’t have

  to wrestle at finals next week,

  it hits me hard as Rudy’s fists

  that I DON’T have to.

  My six-term commitment was up last year.

  I’m quitting.

  No Idea What I’m Going to Say

  I don’t bother

  going into the locker room.

  I wait for everyone to leave.

  Vanessa doesn’t look my way

  before she heads out.

  My guts are

  on fire

  but it will

  all be over soon.

  Door to the office is open.

  “Coach?”

  Voice wavers.

  I’m ready to run

  if I have to.

  He looks up from his desk.

  Brave Larissa steps in.

  “I quit.”

  Even Predictable Explosions Are Scary

  “Letting down the team.”

  “Not living up to commitment.”

  The steam coming out

  of the volcano.

  I stand my ground

  but my toes twitch

  ready to take off.

  Behind Coach’s eyes heat builds

  until hot lava oozes words like “asshole,”

  and phrases like “shit-for-brains”

  but before they

  cover me

  I realize

  I don’t have to listen;

  I’m not on his team.

  I back up.

  He really looks

  a little crazy.

  I walk away

  fast with the sound of

  “Yeah, walk away from me,

  you little queer” echoing in my ears.

  The halls are empty.

  I know

  tomorrow

  they’ll be

  filled with

  staring eyes

  flapping tongues

  pointing fingers.

  Still, my pounding heart

  slows, quiets.

  I’ve always hated Coach,

  I’ve always hated wrestling,

  and if a school doesn’t want me

  because it finds out I quit before

  the end of the season,

  then

  I hate that school, too.

  Before Econ the Next Day

  Lillian Bruner is

  talking to Vincent Lindow,

  her male counterpart

  in the drama department.

  She sees me, gets up.

  “Here, take my seat!”

  She smiles.

  “I was leaving anyway.”

  And just before she turns

  I see her

  give him a wink.

  He leans toward me

  like we share a secret.

  “God, she’s obvious!”

  he says.

  I feel stupid.

  “About what?”

  “Little Miss Matchmaker.”

  Huh?

  “She’s always trying

  to set me up with people.”

  “But I have a girlfriend,”

  I say, and it sounds stupid

  especially since

  very soon—

  once Vanessa hears—

  I might not.

  “I know, I know.” He waves a hand.

  I notice he wears three watches.

  “Lil’s obviously decided

  you’re my type though.”

  (Vanessa)

  Flannigan Stops Me

  on my way to conditioning.

  “I’m sorry,” he says.

  “For what?”

  “Your boyfriend’s a fag—

  he quit wrestling.”

  “Shut up, Flannigan.”

&
nbsp; He’s always saying stupid things.

  “If I’m lying, I’m dying!

  And Andy says he

  caught him in a bra!”

  I stop walking.

  A hot white flash

  curls my heart.

  I don’t know what happened

  between them but

  that’s a shitty thing to say.

  Julie and Tanya aren’t my friends anymore,

  but at least they don’t make up lies about me.

  “You believe that?” I ask.

  “Well—there IS something about him.”

  “Shut up,” I say.

  “Trust me, he’s all man.”

  “Maybe you’re just a cover.”

  “Screw you, Flannigan!”

  I’m so pissed I want to kill Andy,

  who knows Brendan gets depressed

  and spreads devastating lies anyway.

  What a dick!

  I’m sick for Brendan,

  I need to go find him—

  ditch wrestling

  for the first time ever.

  I’m headed out the door

  when it hits me

  that he quit wrestling

  but didn’t bother to tell me.

  He’s dumping me for sure.

  (BRENDAN)

  Vanessa’s Car Idles Near the Bus Stop

  “Drive you home?”

  I nod.

  “We need to talk.”

  A stone to my

  solar plexus.

  But she’s right.

  There’s no way

  she hasn’t heard.

  And there’s no way

  I can lie my way out.

  I’m going to have to say it

  and it’s going to be real.

  The buzz in my head

  makes me

  weak-kneed

  stepping into her car.

  (Vanessa)

  You Know That Feeling of Falling

  you sometimes get

  when you’re asleep?

  Your whole body limp, heavy,

  and you’re tumbling off

  a cliff and there’s a thud

  that makes you open your eyes?

  Hearing your boyfriend

  tell you he wants to be a girl

  is the same sensation,

  with no thud at the bottom

  to wake you up.

  There’s Always a Choice?

  I had a choice and

  I chose Brendan.

  Chose to ditch

  my friends.

  You choose to get up

  in the morning

  or choose to lie in bed.

 

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