Beautiful Lessons

by Rebecca Brooke

  I sit back down next to Chaz and listen to their conversation about the upcoming game. Vanessa leans in when the guys are talking and whispers, “Stay away from Jayceon.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s bad news. I don’t want you associating with anyone bad or who uses drugs. And also, Brendan’s single.” She winks, before turning back to the conversation.

  My body tenses with more rumors about Jayceon. I don’t want to believe the rumors and I won’t. I’m going to get to know him and make up my own mind. He doesn’t look bad; actually he looks really sweet. Probably misunderstood.

  The bell rings and everyone gets up to head to fifth period. Walking behind Chaz, I see him bump into Jayceon, making him drop his books.

  “Chaz!” I yell, “Help him pick up his things!”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  His face tightens. “I said no.” Before I can say anything, he turns and walks away.

  Not wanting to watch him walk away, I turn around and bend down to help Jayceon pick up his things. “I’m really sorry about Chaz.”

  Brendan helps too. “You okay, man?”

  “It’s whatever,” he grumbles. “You didn’t have to make a scene, Seona.”

  “Excuse me?” I respond, in an annoyed tone. I cross my arms and narrow my eyes. “I’m helping you. How is that making a scene?”

  “By making shit worse than it already is.” He grabs his stuff from our hands and storms off.

  “Seriously?”

  Brendan laughs, “You did sorta take his man card by defending him.”

  I punch his arm, “Guys are idiots,” I huff.

  “It’ll be fine. Come on.” Brendan walks me to my dance class and tells me again it’ll be fine.

  “But he’s taking me to A & M. What if he leaves without me?”

  “Jayceon’s not an asshole. He’s been dealing with Chaz’s shit for a while. But if he does leave, text me and I’ll take you.” Brendan writes down his number on my notebook, “Let me know okay?”

  “Fine,” I tell him, “and thank you.”

  “No problem, new girl.” He smirks.

  Chapter 3

  Jayceon

  After Seona walks away, I turn on Alyssa, clenching my teeth at her nerve. “What the hell was that for?”

  She shrugs, innocently. “What? You weren’t answering the poor girl. I couldn’t let her stand there.”

  “Doesn’t mean you have the right to answer for me.”

  “Oh relax. You’re just still worked up over what happened in the hall.”

  “Do you blame me? And now you put me in the car with one of them. I can only imagine the crap they’re filling her head with right now.”

  “Brendan’s over there. You know as well as I do that he’ll say something.”

  “Yeah, he’s been saying something for the last year. It hasn’t done any good yet.”

  “Oh, give her a chance. She made the effort to come over here. Which none of them would have done.”

  “Probably to screw with me the whole way, like I need to listen to it outside of school too.”

  Thoughts of leaving early race through my head. If I can get out of my last class, I’ll have an excuse not to take her.

  “And I see those wheels turning, don’t you dare consider leaving early. You’re not an asshole. Don’t act like them.”

  “Fine.”

  She smirks at me and goes back to eating her lunch. The rest of lunch passes in silence, and every once in a while, my eyes stray to the other side of the room to see what she’s doing. Each time I see her, she’s smiling or laughing. Not enduring the torture most kids go through when they first arrive. I can only assume it’s because of the way she looks and the fact that Chaz has had his arm around her shoulders since the minute she walked up to their table.

  Whatever, all I have to do is survive this year. Everything will change next year when I go to college. It’ll be a place where I’m surrounded by new people, a chance to start fresh. The rumors, the bullshit, all of it will be in the past.

  A hand waves in front of my face. “Hello? Jayceon? Are you in there?”

  I catch her hand and laugh. It’s hard to stay mad at her for too long. “Yeah. I just got lost in thought for a bit.”

  Alyssa looks over her shoulder to where the new girl is sitting and back again. “For a bit? Try the whole period,” she jokes. She stands and picks up the trash from her lunch. “Come on, or we’ll be late.”

  Realizing that lunch is over and we made it through the whole period without incident, I grab my trash and follow her out. My next class of the day is the only one that I actually look forward to.

  Art.

  It’s the time of day I can begin to relax, at least until football practice starts. With Alyssa next to me, we make our way towards the cafeteria doors. Suddenly, something slams into the back of me and my books go flying everywhere. Fuck.

  Alyssa and I bend down to pick everything up, when I hear Seona bitching to Chaz about picking them up. Yeah right, hell will freeze over first. Why can’t she leave it alone? Practice today is going to be extra brutal, considering she gave Chaz more ammunition. Brendan offers to help, but Seona doesn’t want to let it go.

  Can’t she understand it’s not worth it? Annoyed, I walk away from them and attempt to get to class on time.

  Squeaking through the door just in time, we grab the supplies we need and take our seats to begin work. The fact that my mom is an artist has always had a huge impact on my love of the arts. She always guides me, helping me to learn and master new techniques. She’s the main reason I want to go to NYU and study graphic design.

  “How much of that painting do you have left?” Alyssa asks, gesturing to the canvas in front of me.

  I’m supposed to be working on a black and white portrait of a moonlit beach. It’s a place I remember going to as a child, when things were much easier. But after all of the shit with Chaz over the last hour, I can’t concentrate on anything. I try to shake it off and answer her question. “Almost done, but my goal is to finish it today, so that I can do a glaze tomorrow and help the black to pop a bit more. What about you?”

  “To be honest, I’m not loving the color of the leaves I chose. I might go back over them with something a bit brighter.”

  “Not a bad idea. Maybe you can use some of this,” I say, absently handing her a tube of green paint that I think will work well with her picture.

  “Oh, I like this color.”

  And just like that, we do what we always do in this class and get absorbed in the paintings, not really talking to each other unless we want advice on what we’re doing. While I know all of my art has suffered in the past year, it’s still the one place I feel relaxed. A place I don’t have to worry about anything but the canvas in front of me.

  The hour passes quickly and before I know it, it’s time to leave. While Alyssa heads to English, I attend my second art class of the day, graphic design. This is the one class I have to be able to concentrate in and thankfully, painting for the last hour helped to relieve the tension from earlier. Saving my most recent project, I log off and look at the clock. Only two more to go.

  “Hey, man.” Brendan steps up next to me on the way to math.

  “Hey.”

  “Come on Jayceon, she was trying to be nice earlier. Don’t get pissed at me.”

  “I’m not pissed. At least not anymore.”

  “Good ‘cause Seona’s not like the rest of them. She stood up for you at lunch when Chaz was being a dick.”

  “Chaz is always a dick and that was probably before they told her the whole story.”

  “Nope. She knew it and didn’t seem to care what they had to say.”

  That’s interesting. Maybe I didn’t give her enough credit earlier. I guess only time will tell. “All right man. I’ll try and be nice.”

  “You do that. I gotta go before I’m late.”

  “See ya.”

  Math passes by in a s
eries of equations and boredom. The whole time I wonder if I was too much of an asshole earlier. She doesn’t know everything about what happened. At least I could apologize in the car on the way over to the school.

  One of the first ones to arrive to history, I take my normal seat in the back. There’s a ton of homework tonight and heading to Dad’s practice I know I’m not going to have a lot of time to do it, so I pull out my math binder and get started on the equations. A hand slams down onto my book.

  Biting my tongue, I look up to see who the asshole is today. It’s not what I expected. There, standing next to my desk is Seona, her dark eyes and her brows drawn down.

  “You know I was just trying to help earlier. You didn’t need to be an asshole.”

  “Me? I’m the asshole. You start more shit than I need or want to deal with and I’m the asshole.”

  “You’re the one that jumped down my throat when I was being nice.”

  “Oh, yes. Right after your boyfriend slammed into me and dumped my stuff all over the floor. Is that when you’re talking about?”

  “Forget it,” she snaps. “Apparently you don’t get what being friendly means.”

  There is nothing I can do to control the roll of my eyes. “Does that mean I don’t have to take you to the college today?”

  “Oh no. My brother told me to talk to you about a ride. You may not like it, but you’re taking me anyway.”

  There’s no time to respond, when she storms to the front of the room to take her seat with her friends.

  Throughout class, my leg bounces and I clench my fists in complete irritation. Who the hell does this girl think she is? She’s got balls of steel, that’s for sure. Watching the clock, I don’t hear a word the teacher says as I wait for my opportunity. It moves slower than I thought possible, but finally the bell rings. I gather my stuff as quickly as I can and walk to the front of the room, where she is still packing up her stuff.

  Stopping next to her desk, I return the favor and place my hand on top of her book so she can’t put it away. “Find your own ride.”

  Without another word, I walk out of the room and to the gym. The locker room is always horrendous and after the day I have had, I’m not in the mood. If Coach Bryde knew everything that happens in the locker room, he’d flip his shit. I’m not the kind of guy who’s gonna rat someone out. I never have, never will. It just isn’t worth the trouble. The shit they pile on you only gets worse after that.

  Pushing open the door, the smell of sweat hits my nose, making me cringe. The goal is to get in and out as quickly as possible. You don’t want to spend too long in the locker room. The sooner I can get out on the practice field the better. Repeating that mantra in my head, I change and get out onto the field in less than five minutes, where Coach is already waiting.

  Laps are a must at every practice and Coach never disappoints. Once we finish those, he divides us into groups to run drills with the people that play our position. My guess is that he is trying to decide who to play for the first game of the season this year. I’ll be the starting wide receiver this year. And it has nothing to do with my dad. The reality is that, I’m the fastest one on the team and no amount of whining on their part is going to change that. With Chaz as the quarterback, it is going to make some plays interesting, since he will be forced to pass the ball to me.

  With the first game this weekend, Coach Bryde forces us to practice directly with Chaz. We run specifics routes we are going to use on game night. Chaz has been hitting target after target, but my turn’s coming up and I can only hope that he doesn’t act like an asshole. Coach gives us the route to run and blows the whistle.

  Immediately, I take off in the direction the coach said. As I turning to line up with the quarterback and get the ball in my sights, I see it flying overhead on the other side of the field. Coach comes storming on the field, yelling at Chaz for throwing the wrong play. Chaz apologizes, claiming he heard him wrong. Coach does a little more yelling and walks back to the sideline, all the while Chaz is smirking at me, making it clear he did it on purpose.

  “Do it again,” Coach yells.

  We set up and run the route again. This time Chaz throws correctly and I have no problem catching the ball. The next few rounds, he doesn’t try and throw the wrong play. Instead, he throws the ball a little off each time. It’s either too long or too short. Sometimes it goes too far to one side. Unfortunately for Chaz, this is my dad’s favorite way to coach a wide receiver and he does it to me all of the time. I use what I’ve learned over the years and make the catches anyway, which just pisses Chaz off.

  The practice seems to take forever, only because I’m looking forward to meeting my dad at work. Ever since he retired and became the coach for A & M, it has given us time to spend together, since he’s on the road so much less.

  We finish practice and head into the locker room to get cleaned up before we leave. I’m supposed to meet my dad at the field for his practice when I leave and decide that a quick shower is in order. Usually, it’s just easier to head home and shower there, but I don’t want to be late. Thankfully, the showers aren’t crowded and I finish in record time. The problem—when I step out of the shower all of my clothes and towel are gone.

  What the fuck am I supposed to do?

  Listening to the other room, I don’t hear any sounds. Hoping everyone is gone, I sneak out to my locker to see if I can find anything to wear home, then I can grab something there. As quietly as possible, I tiptoe out to the lockers and run head first into Coach Bryde.

  “What the hell are you doing running around the locker room naked?” His eyes are wide.

  Coach Bryde is a friend of my dad’s, so I don’t really want to tell him what’s going on. I’ve been hiding it from my dad for the last year. My dad loves me, of that I’m sure, but I was afraid of what he would think when he found out I’ve been bullied since last year.

  My eyes drop to the ground; here I am naked, talking to the coach. “I left my stuff in my locker; I wasn’t thinking when I got in the shower.”

  Suddenly there was a towel being hung in my face. “Put this on and come meet me in my office.”

  “But I’m supposed—”

  “Your dad can wait. We need to talk.”

  Resigning myself to the conversation, I nod my head and watch him walk down the hall. Before I head to the office, I stop by my locker and luckily there is a pair of gym shorts still in there. Dirty clothes are better than no clothes. Besides, it’s only until I can stop at home to change.

  When I reach the office door, Coach calls me in without looking up from whatever he is doing. My mouth is as dry as sandpaper as I take my seat in front of his desk. After a moment, he gets up and comes around to where I’m sitting and takes the seat next to me and trains his focus directly on me.

  “Now that you have clothes on, which I can tell aren’t what you wore to school today, do you want to tell me why I’m finding you sneaking around the locker room after practice, naked?”

  “Not really.” My stomach is starting to roll at the look in his eyes. He wants the truth and I’m not getting out of there until I give it to him.

  “Look Jayceon, I’ve known you for a long time. Your father is one of my closest friends. I know something is going on and you need to tell me what it is.”

  Not sure what to do, I try and stall, thinking of a way to answer his question. Nothing comes to mind, except the truth. Maybe it’s time I stop hiding all of the shit I’ve dealt with and for once let someone else handle it. With a resolve I never knew I had, I focus on Coach Bryde and decide to tell him the story.

  I shrug. “My best guess is that Chaz hid my clothes somewhere in the locker room, or he got rid of them.”

  Coach is trying to portray calmness, but the slight tremor to his hands says so much else. “How long has this been going on?”

  The laugh that bubbles up from my chest is bitter. Now that I’m letting it out, it’s hard to stop it. “In the locker room or in school?”


  “Both.”

  “Since practice started this summer in the locker room.”

  “And in school.”

  “Since the beginning of last year.”

  Coach practically jumps from his seat. “Damn it, Jayceon. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

  “What, so Chaz can find out it was me and make the whole situation worse? They don’t care who my dad is. All they care about is looking cool in front of their friends. Are you going to tell him?”

  Coach paces for a few minutes before coming back to the chair, his fists clenched tight. “You know what, it doesn’t matter who your dad is or how well I know him. At some point you are going to have to learn to stand up for yourself. If you would have told me about this last year, I would have kicked his ass off the team, but you were smaller and he would have won. But now? You’re bigger than him and at some point you’re going to have to learn to stand up to the bullies. Your dad and I won’t always be around to do it for you. Besides, I have no plans to tell your dad.”

  What he’s saying makes a lot of sense. That doesn’t mean I’m ready to do it. The last time I stood up for anyone, including myself, the shit hit the fan. All of the torture I went through every day was because I tried to defend someone. It was just easier to try and ignore it the best I could. Everything would change next year, anyway.

  “It’s hard to think of myself as big enough to take on a guy like Chaz.”

  “No it’s not, but you need to learn how to do it. I’m not saying what they’re doing is right, but unless you stand up to them it’s never going to stop. You’re right, if I step in, it’s only gonna get worse. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to, because you’re not the only one he’s harassing.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Just think about what I said, because I can guarantee that practice tomorrow is going to be hell. And you’re still starting Friday night, so you’re going to have to deal with Chaz on the field as well.”

  I sigh. “He just won’t throw the ball to me.”

  “Yes he will. I’m not letting him ignore our fastest wide receiver because he wants to be a brat.”