The Bright Side Brigade

by Elaine White

  There was a sigh, then a quieter sniff. “This is exactly what I called to complain about,” he grumbled, on the other end, “but I guess I'll just have to deal with it. If you're going to be sticking around.”

  “Get used to it. I don't care about what anyone else thinks anymore,” Karsyn said, as he reached down to pat Jareth's head, as he got too curious for his own good. “You gave me that strength, to see who I really am and what I really want. And what I'm willing to do so that I can be that person and have what I want. So let me give you some of that strength back,” he pleaded.

  “Okay.” Romany went quiet again, then hiccupped. “I better go. I'm pretty tired, so I'm just going to turn in.”

  “Okay. Sleep tight and have good dreams. Tomorrow will be fine,” he promised.

  “Night.”

  Romany hung up, leaving Karsyn shocked and a little surprised that he'd been the positive force in that conversation. The one so sure about coming out and being themselves and all that supportive, non-judgemental stuff his dad had been filling his ears with for years. Who knew he could do that?

  Turning back to the living room, he took the seat by Freddie and sighed. “Kiddo, there's something I have to tell you,” he said, keeping his phone firmly in his free hand. “I want to tell you first, before anyone else. Then, I want to invite my friends over and tell them. But you deserve to know first, because I kept it from you. Not because I couldn't trust you, but because I didn't want to put the burden of my secret on your shoulders,” he began, hoping to explain the real reason he'd kept him out of the loop.

  “You're gay. It's okay.” Freddie shrugged and went back to focusing on the TV, which was showing some reality cooking show. He took so much after their mother it was frightening.

  Karsyn stared at him for a long time, worried and a little elated that Freddie seemed to know already. “Did Mum or Dad tell you?” he asked, since he wasn't sure what to make of this.

  “No.” He laughed and turned to look at him with an 'are you serious' look. “Big brother, you are strong, athletic and smart, for sure, but it's pretty obvious to anyone who spends enough time with you. I've commented more than once on how pretty Ginny is, to see what your reaction would be, and you barely blink,” he explained.

  “That's because it's Ginny. And she's fourteen,” he objected.

  Freddie bobbed his head in an uncertain gesture. “I've also pointed out a few other pretty girls from school, all in your year. You pay zero attention to them, even when they're flirting and fawning over you. But, when Ryder or Romany go past, you perk right up and pay attention,” he claimed, with another hint of amusement in his voice. It was beginning to get damned frustrating.

  “So everyone knows?”

  “What? No.” Freddie made a face and shrugged. “People are too stupid to see what's right in their faces. You play rugby and you're friends with popular people. To the kids at school, that makes you a straight sports star, valiantly holding onto your good grades by nobly sacrificing a love life,” he said, even putting on a posh voice to make it sound more accomplished. “They eat crap like that up with a spoon.”

  “Don't say crap,” he said, on instinct. Then he asked, “So no one knows?” Just to be careful. Extra, extra careful. And because he needed to know how Ryder knew.

  “Nope, and I'm pretty sure all our friends would love a heads up,” he agreed, with a smile. “Although, you might have a chance with Ryder. He's been checking out a few guys, lately. I think he might be questioning his own sexuality or at least curious,” he exclaimed, with too much consideration and understanding for Karsyn to take.

  “Where did my innocent kid brother go?”

  Freddie flushed and laughed. “Actually, I've been watching some of Pops Durand's lectures online. It's amazing what you can pick up and learn from observation.” He shrugged it off and went back to watching the TV.

  Just when Karsyn thought the 'heart to heart' talk he'd planned wasn't necessary and grabbed his phone to text his friends with an invite to come over, Freddie sighed in that tell-tale way that foreshadowed bad news.

  “What is it?” he wondered, scared that there was something awful on the horizon.

  “Well,” his kid brother turned and smiled weakly at him, “I need to tell the guys something too, when they show up. You see...Ginny and I started dating. A week ago. With Mum and Dad's blessing. I just...never told you, because...you know, you were struggling with your own stuff,” he revealed, in a gush of words that ended with a deep inhale. Then he said, “Phew. I thought that would be harder.”

  And suddenly they were both laughing. Both incredibly relieved and thrilled to have all the secrets out in the open. And both marvelling over how incredibly trusting their parents had been to keep their secrets, until they were ready.

  They really were blessed, in all the ways that mattered.

  The End

  Cinder, Smoke and Ash

  Prologue: Day 121

  I want to be sick. That was the first thought that ran through Donald's head as he dropped onto a bench in the middle of the locker rooms, about to start his usual clean up. He tugged at his short, dirty blonde hair, trying to push the bad thoughts away, and focus on what needed to be done. What he could actually accomplish.

  The players on the school football team were practising, so he should have been getting to work to clean for their return. Though, inevitably, it would be in even more of a mess by the time they were done showering and changing.

  But, he couldn't. He'd made the mistake of thinking about his day so far; a hard day of classes and the now routine insults whispered behind his back and on his social media accounts. Pulling out his phone, he logged into his Facebook account and found forty-two notifications waiting for him.

  He'd last checked his messages at seven o'clock that morning and now, just nine hours later, forty-two new notifications had appeared. Thirteen were private messages and the rest were actual notifications.

  His hand shaking, he clicked the small world button on the top right corner and scanned the only warnings Facebook gave him. Sixteen people had commented on his status from yesterday, which meant there were actually fifteen more comments to read than his notifications told him there would be.

  He right clicked the box and opened it in a new tab, then scrolled down the remaining notifications. A few likes on pictures, comments, and a few notices that people had posted in groups he was a part of. He ignored all of them and kept scrolling.

  Nothing sinister, so far.

  Donald clicked the 'mark all as read' and watched the notifications magically disappear. Then he hovered his finger over the open tab and closed his eyes. Please, he prayed, to no one in particular. Please be good, he asked, clicking the tab with his eyes still closed.

  It took a minute of deep breathing before he could face opening his eyes and reading the comments on his status. It was nothing life changing or even targeted towards a particular person. It simply read:

  Donald Leary – feeling lonely

  That was it. Nothing innocuous or rude, nothing inspiring or noteworthy. He'd simply put the truth; he was lonely.

  He read the first comment, from his closest friend, Freddie. Call me!

  Lonely? Good, go top yourself, from the school jock, Curtis.

  That one hurt. Donald had been best friends with Curtis in primary school, until Curtis took to their high school's sports program like a duck to water. Suddenly, as the star athlete, he was too cool to hang out with a book geek like Donald.

  Scanning the rest of the comments, they were all the same. Loser, pathetic, worthless...the list went on and on. All people he went to school with, all people who lived locally and all people who weren't even on his friends list. He wasn't cool enough to be their friend on any social media network, but each time he blocked them, six more would show up.

  It had been going on long enough.

  He opened the messages page and cringed at the short preview windows on the left hand side. Most of
the messages were from the same people who had commented on his status. Only, these words were sharper, honed to perfection in a hope to hurt him. He ignored them and clicked each small x on the previews, to send them into archives. He didn't want to open them to read them and he could delete them later, when he'd calmed down.

  Right now, he felt emotionally battered and far from ready to face even more insults.

  Then a new notification popped up and he frowned. When he clicked on it, he found that an animated gif had been posted to his profile. The still image, with the little play button on it, seemed innocent enough. Well, it was a guy's face and he was smiling.

  He was kind of cute.

  Donald clicked the 'play' button and watched in horror as the image moved and became the cute guy leaning towards the screen. Then the angle moved and became two guys kissing.

  He looked at the name of the person who had posted it, having been too caught up in the picture to notice the name or the message that accompanied it.

  Curtis – Get back in your closet, you faggot!

  As those words spun round his head, three more notifications beeped and appeared on the screen. Fag, gay, homo...then a half dozen more appeared. Some were shocked to hear that he was gay, even if it was only from name calling by Curtis, the school bully. But they were all taking it seriously!

  As he read the comments, his heart pounded faster and faster. They all knew. They were all talking about how gay he was and that it was disgusting.

  Donald threw his phone across the room and it hit the tiled wall of the gym locker.

  No more.

  He couldn't take one more word. One more insult.

  After one hundred and twenty-one days; seventeen weeks; nearly four months...

  It was over. He was done.

  Chapter 1

  Ryder kicked the ball towards the team captain, Defiance, bypassing Curtis, who was waiting on the side-lines. He would be a good go-between, but Ryder didn't see the point in risking a stop along the way. Defiance was in a great position to get the ball in the goal.

  There was shouting in the background of his consciousness, as the players of the opposing team called game plans to each other. Ryder blocked it all out and watched Defiance dribble the ball towards the goal, before taking a booter of a right footed kick.

  It rolled forward, as he watched intently, and turned a little, towards the right goal post.

  “Come on,” he whispered.

  This was practice, not a friendly, so they had to win this.

  When the ball bounced off the post and into the goal, his entire team erupted in cheers.

  “Great pass,” Defiance said, winking as he passed, patting the back of his shoulder in congratulations.

  “That was a great kick,” Ryder replied, smiling as Defiance walked backwards towards the benches, to keep talking.

  He'd had a crush on the team captain for a while, but still being in the closet and convinced Defiance was straight, it was hard to decide what to do about his feelings. He couldn't openly tell anyone, despite their school being accepting of LGBT students, since it was his own parents he was worried about. As far as they knew, he was straight as an arrow and, if his dad had his way, it would stay that way.

  There was no being gay in the MacTavish household. Not even when he had two crushes – Defiance and the rugby player, Karsyn, who had recently turned him down – or when half of his close friends were gay or knew someone who was.

  Hell, there was a whole group of kids who were friends with Karsyn, who covered just about every facet of the LGBTTQQIAAP rainbow. And maybe some more on top of that. He would love to talk to them and figure out how they had the guts to be who they were, openly, and without facing ridicule or bullying in the hallways. To know how their parents had taken it and if their acceptance had anything to do with the accepting, open minds of the school board and their strict, but effective, Zero Tolerance enforcement.

  But asking would mean exposing his secret to people he didn't know or trust.

  When his watch beeped, Ryder glanced down and switched the alarm off. “Coach!” he called, turning towards their trainer and coach. “I have to leave for that appointment, now,” he reminded him.

  The coach looked up from his clipboard and checked his watch. He nodded, in recollection that Ryder had already asked to get away early, because he had to take his little brother to the dentist. “Right, I'll have Defiance drop you my notes tomorrow morning,” he said, in agreement.

  Ryder glanced his team captain's way and smiled, as he found him already looking.

  Then Defiance stepped over and held out his bottle of water. “I could always stop by, tonight, on my way home. Where do you live?” he asked, with what could only be considered a sexy smile and flirtatious eyes.

  His heart thudded frantically as he tried to figure out what to say. He didn't have any time to linger around for the after game evaluations and pep talk, but he quickly gave Defiance his address, just two streets from school, and rushed towards the locker room.

  Nerves made him run, when he should have stayed behind to see what his team captain had to say about their new agreement. But he didn't have the time to linger; his little brother had cracked a tooth playing rugby and this was an emergency appointment. No way could a MacTavish show his face in public with a cracked front tooth.

  Ryder ran into the changing rooms, ignoring the pitch black state that he was so used to after practice, and headed straight to his locker. He unlocked the door with the key around his neck, and grabbed a towel and a change of clothes. He had time for a quick shower, to wash off the stink from his football game, which was always recommended after a tough match. But as he neared the showers, at the far side of the room, he frowned as he stepped in a puddle of water.

  Then the sound of running water caught his attention. He hadn't noticed it before, because the kids who cleaned these places, as an attempt to get on coach's good side and get an audition for the team next year, often ran the showers when cleaning them. But it was a bit early to clean showers that hadn't been used yet.

  “Hey, is there anyone in there?” Ryder asked, as his trainers squelched on the tiled floor that was becoming increasingly flooded with water.

  Looking behind him, into the locker rooms, he noticed that the water was pooling and getting closer to the lockers. But the closer he got to the showers, the more it appeared flooded, as though on purpose.

  “Hello?” he called, feeling nervous in the dark showers.

  Someone had switched the lights off in this part of the building, or the water had short circuited the wires. Whatever happened, he was beginning to feel wigged out. Scrambling for his jeans, that he'd already grabbed to change into, he found the key chain on the back pocket. He clicked on the small torch keyring and pointed it towards the floor.

  The water was dark and murky, but the showers were at the wrong side of the room to have affected the waste from the toilets. Stepping closer, Ryder swung the light of the torch around the room and froze.

  To the right, against the shower wall, sat a kid on the floor.

  “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, gathering his senses. He kept advancing, unsettled by how still the kid was, as they sat on the floor, back against the wall. It was a boy that he vaguely recognised as one of the poor kids trying to get in coach's good books, but he didn't know him well enough to know his name.

  Ryder cast the light in the boy's eyes, only for his blood to run cold. The boy's eyes were terrified, his mouth open as a small rumble of a sigh escaped him. The image transported him back in time, three years, to when he walked into his granddad's house to find him sitting in his favourite chair, watching the rugby with unseeing eyes.

  His hand fell, in shock and disappointment, as he realised this kid was dying. Then his eyes followed the lowered beam of light and he realised why the water was so dark.

  It was drenched in blood.

  For a moment, his entire world stopped.

  Ryder stood the
re, in shock, not sure what to do or if anything could be done. Half of him screamed that he should run and leave, to find someone who could help or at least make those shockingly bright, blue eyes stop staring at him. The other half flew into logic; bind the wound, stop the bleeding, call an ambulance.

  Stumbling back towards the lockers, he stopped just inside the flow of water and threw up into the nearest drain, his vision blurred by tears, his heart ripped apart by what he'd just seen. But he didn't have time to stop.

  Without waiting for his panic to take over a second time, he pushed himself forward, determined to see this through. He wouldn't leave this kid until he knew that he was being properly taken care of. He wouldn't leave until he knew his name.

  It was as he lifted his hand to sway the beam of light around, to guide him towards his locker, that he realised he'd dropped his clothes and the towel, which were probably now coated in blood. He didn't feel sad or frustrated, annoyed or even bothered that his stuff was now swimming in bloody water. There was just...nothing.

  Time seemed to pass so slowly as he headed for his locker, the sound of his trainers against the sodden floor sickening. When he finally reached his locker, he unlocked it with the chain still around his neck and grabbed his phone.

  His first call was answered immediately and he didn't even wait for anyone to talk before speaking; “My name is Ryder MacTavish and I'm in the boys’ locker rooms at Chance High School. I need an ambulance. A boy is seriously injured; it looks like he tried to kill himself.”

  The words came out in order, but his voice audibly shook and he could hear the operator on the other end take a sharp intake of breath, before she spoke to him. “Thank you, Ryder. An ambulance and the police have been dispatched. Are you with the young man now?”

  “No. I had to leave him to get my phone,” he explained, though it was only just settling in on him what he'd said. The kid had tried to kill himself and he was talking on the phone.