by Elaine White
Walking through the front doors, they went straight to the reception desk to sign in, sharing small talk with the receptionist, who wished them well and said how nice it was to see them again.
Donald knew it was exactly what he’d face from everyone else in school, but it grated on his last nerve. He'd been invisible in this school for nearly three years and suddenly, because of what he'd done, everyone wanted to be his friend. It wasn't fair.
If he'd had this kind of attention, this support and the trust that talking to an authority figure would actually help his situation, he wouldn't have felt like his only option was to escape. He hadn't told his parents for one simple reason: they'd done everything possible, since adopting him, to make his life happy, carefree and safe. He didn't want them to think they'd failed, but he also couldn't bear to see how miserable his dad would be, if he knew what Donald had been dealing with.
He'd been so locked inside his own head, so afraid of what might happen and that it would never end that he couldn't see the positives. He couldn't remember that his parents would never leave him or judge him, because of what someone else had done. He couldn't remember that there were people to call and talk to, when he felt the way he did.
All Donald remembered from that time was the sure fire knowledge that he was alone and there was no one there to save him from Curtis or himself. One twisted, lonely thought led to another until he was a sobbing wreck. Then a bleeding mess.
Then Ryder walked in, like a ray of sunshine. His voice was soft, sweet and so welcome in that dark time. He'd been that same bright spark in his life ever since.
“Where are we going?” Ryder asked quietly, as Donald led the way out of the main building and across the field behind.
“Well, I figured that I'd rather face the bad stuff first, so that meeting the group will be a pick-me-up,” he reasoned, hoping that Ryder would agree. “You don't have to come with me. I can go myself. But I feel it's something that I have to do,” he confessed.
It was something he needed to do, to make sure that all of his demons were behind him, that all of his hard work with therapy and his physiotherapy hadn't been for nothing.
Ryder gripped his hand and sighed deeply. “Okay, we'll do it your way. You know what you're doing and what you need.” He nodded and managed a small, unsure smile that Donald was able to return.
Kissing his cheek, he proceeded to the small building at the side of the football field. The one he hadn't set foot in since being taken out in an ambulance stretcher. The one that, by the looks of the football field, was currently in use right now. The supplies cart was already sitting by the benches and the Coach was stomping down tufts of grass that had been dislodged, his back already towards them.
As they approached, the door to the locker rooms opened and one of the assistants walked out, holding a clipboard. One he was familiar with, having looked after the team's lockers, showers and supplies for about a year.
Donald tensed a little, until he saw that strawberry blonde hair and relaxed. It was only Aubrey, a sweet twelve year old in his first year in high school, looking forward to showing off how eager and helpful he was, so that the Coach would consider him for the team in the future.
“Aubrey,” he called, glad to see the kid still working away.
“Donald?” he replied, only to grin slowly and drop his clipboard onto the cart.
They walked towards each other and, for the first time since that night, he embraced someone other than his parents and Ryder.
Aubrey hugged him tight, laughing and breaking away to look him over. “You look great! You could use some sun, but you look so much happier than before. Are things...better?” he asked, not afraid of asking the hard questions, it seemed.
“Yeah. Much better,” he admitted, turning to where Ryder stood beside him with a bemused smile. “This is my boyfriend, Ryder,” he said, loving that he got to say those two words in the same sentence. Even better was the way Ryder smiled and looked so proud of that introduction.
“Hey.” Ryder nodded hello.
“Are you going in?” Aubrey asked, nodding back towards the locker rooms.
Donald nodded, taking a deep breath to ground himself. It was time to go ahead and do what he came to do. Ryder squeezed his hand and he smiled, giving another nod of reassurance.
“Yeah. It's sort of...therapy homework, you could say,” he admitted, though his hospital therapist had said that it was only a goal, not an exercise he needed to do by a certain time. Only something he had to seriously think about, consider and plan for, as it would, eventually, need to be done at some point in the future.
Especially if he ever wanted to go back to school and his life, without letting that night stand in his way.
Chapter 12
Ryder took a step to the side, inspiring him to move. Together, they shared a goodbye smile with Aubrey, who walked away without making a show of what they were doing. His boyfriend didn't stop at the door, he simply held it open for Donald and let him walk inside. Once there, they kept pace with each other, standing side by side, holding hands, together through this from beginning to end, the same way they'd been when it all started.
“Ryder?”
They both froze, as they saw Defiance walking towards them from the showers. He looked unsure about approaching them, but did it anyway.
“Hey, Defiance,” Ryder replied, with a tight nod that said he'd noticed him.
The tension in his shoulders only reminded Donald of why Ryder hadn't come back to school yet. He was worried that his friends would disown him for being anything but straight, that the rumours and whispers would hamper his recovery, even that there would be too many questions asked of him that he didn't want to answer.
All the things he'd worried about, too.
“Come on,” Ryder whispered, nudging him forward a little.
Stumbling forward, Donald only just realised how nervous he was about doing this. It was a huge step, but he followed Ryder further into the locker rooms, where the end of the entranceway led to the right, the lockers, or left, the showers. Stopping in the junction, he grasped Ryder's hand with both of his, afraid that he'd let go and he'd just stand here, adrift in his thoughts, for hours.
“So,” Defiance made his way over, adjusting the towel around his waist, that was the only thing he wore apart from the occasional soap bubble and drop of water, “are you guys back or–” He stopped and his eyes drifted to where they were holding hands. A brief tension in his brow let Donald know that he wasn't pleased, but neither of them commented on it. “–are you just hanging out?”
Donald gathered his courage and took a deep breath. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, three other members of the football team appeared in towels and scowled at them.
“What are you doing here?” Bradford sneered at him, then turned his nose up when he saw his hand in Ryder's. “And I think it's pretty sick of you flaunting your fag life in our faces, after the way you've treated Curtis.”
This was a bad idea.
Donald knew it would be, deep down, but he'd hoped he was strong enough to face it. But he wasn't. Not when things like this were going to continue to happen. The same things that people had been saying to him, in person and online, for months.
That was, until Ryder let go of his hand and walked over to the nearest row of lockers. He got up on the bench and whistled until he had the entire locker rooms attention. “Listen up, because I'm only going to say this once.” He waited, as the room quietened and all eyes focused on one of the star players of their team.
“Donald is gay! I'm bisexual. So what? Who the bloody hell cares? It's got shit all to do with any of you. We don't want anything to do with you. We don't want to snog you, touch you or convert you. Fancying the same sex is not something that “happens” to you. It isn't something you “learn” or “catch” from being too close to “the gays”,” he ranted, using a hell of a lot of quotation marks as he gesticulated wildly.
Donald was fille
d with a rush of pride as he watched half the locker room squirm.
“I thought you were my friends. You were on my team; we were brothers and supported each other through everything. We had each other's back, hung out after games and had fun,” he confessed, sounding upset that it seemed those things were no longer true. “But, you know what? I've always liked boys. I never once ogled you in the showers or when you were changing. I didn't even take a peek when we were naked together, those hundred odd times in the last year alone. I didn't want anything from any of you but the friendship and team mates that I thought I had.”
Most of the room looked uncomfortable, glancing at each other as though to see if anyone else felt as awkward as they did.
Most of them did.
But Ryder wasn't done. He shrugged and threw his hands up. “I don't ask any of you who you're dating, or where you want to stick your sticks,” he said, gesturing to the half of the team that were naked under their towels. More than a few of them grabbed the top of their towels. “But you know what else I realised? Not one of you has called or texted me in the last five weeks. No one came round my house to check I was doing alright. No one dropped off homework or brought pizza, no one came to talk or just to hang out. No one!” he shouted, releasing all of the pent up anger he had over those issues.
“No one cared what I was going through and that is what made me realise that this team isn't a real team. You aren't my friends. You don't have my back. So why should I have yours?” he asked, turning to gesture to Defiance. “You are a coward. Not because you haven't done something that we both know you should have, before it was too late, but because you stand by and listen to this crap without standing up and admitting that it makes your skin crawl,” he rambled.
Then he turned to Bradford. “And you? You're either the biggest homophobe I've ever met – and that's saying something, considering how bad my dad is – or you're hiding behind the snarky remarks and bullshit. Either way, you need a wakeup call now or you're going to be just like Curtis.”
Donald walked over to his side and reached up to take his hand. “I'm with you all the way, Ryder,” he promised.
His boyfriend smiled sadly and nodded, before climbing down from the bench. He looked at the room and sighed. “Everyone out the showers. Donald and I have shit to do,” he demanded, waiting as everyone practically ran out of the showers and over to their lockers.
He couldn't help but notice that most of them just hovered there, waiting to see what they were going to do.
Ryder walked into the shower area and switched on a shower, before stepping back and waiting. “This is what I remember hearing, at first,” he whispered, turning slightly to glance at Donald with sad, tired eyes. “It was the sound that made me stop and think. I knew you would be cleaning them that night, but training wasn't over and no one had been in yet, so there was no reason for you to be cleaning showers that were already clean, you know?”
Donald nodded, as his eyes misted over. He was trying so hard not to cry, but it was hard. He hadn't even noticed the sound of the water running; all he remembered was sobbing and backing into the shower with the pocket knife he'd stolen for his own protection. He'd backed into the main shower switch, inadvertently turning them all on at once with the move.
“I remember seeing you and I just knew...you were dying,” he confessed quietly, his voice cracking on the last word. Ryder cleared his throat and squeezed his hand. “I had nightmares about that look in your eyes, at first. I only needed one look to know you regretted it, and I'll never forget thinking that all you were doing the whole time you looked at me was screaming 'Help Me!'”
Leaning his head against Ryder's arm, he took a steadying breath. “I was. On the inside. On the outside, I was too terrified of what I'd done to speak. I was afraid that if I tried, I'd break down,” he whispered, turning to press his watery eyes to Ryder's t-shirt. With a sniff, he ignored the impulse to touch his wrists, in recollection of that moment when he realised what a mistake he'd made.
“I'm glad you're here with me,” Donald continued quietly, lifting his head to look Ryder in the eye. His boyfriend was crying too, but he didn't care. This was what they needed. “When I'm in this room, you'll always be with me now. In here,” he promised, touching his free hand to his heart. “That night, I needed you more than anything and I didn't even know it. Now, you'll never leave me.”
“No,” Ryder agreed, reaching up to brush a thumb over his cheek to remove the tears. “I'll never leave you. Not in here,” he said, touching his heart with a gentle finger, before lowering it to where they were holding hands, “or here.”
A half hour later, recovered from their walk down memory lane, Ryder pushed open a classroom door and let Donald walk in first.
He stopped in surprise, as he saw the 'Welcome Back' banner across the class board and the various balloons looped over the arm of class chairs. He laughed and cried at the same time, pressing a hand to his stomach to stop the emotional flip the sight caused.
He had never had that many friends, just a few casual friends who were more acquaintances than anything else. People he hung out with, but didn't know intimately. He'd always kept himself to himself, even before the bullying.
Now, he couldn't get over the fact that he had friends like this. Freddie and Ginny were standing at the side, grinning to themselves, while Karsyn and his boyfriend, Romany, stood nearby. Beside them, Kenichi and Alvin smiled; Sterling waved while stepping away from Fearghas to greet them and welcome them to the group.
The words washed over him, while he took in the crowd who were here to welcome him on his first day back. Javon and his boyfriend from another school, Tracy, were here; Harrison was in front of his boyfriend, Austin, who held him in a loose embrace.
There were couples everywhere, but it wasn't just those of the Bright Side Brigade. It was the only group of people in the school he had ever trusted and their partners. The people he liked, talked to and was friends with, even if he'd never thought they would be here in a moment like this.
These were his friends. And Ryder's. All in one room.
It made him feel so special.
“I don't know what to say,” Donald confessed, looking at them all.
“Well, how about 'let's have cake'?” Ryder suggested, nodding towards a table at the side of the room that had a collection of treats, cakes and snacks.
It was a real party! For him. For him and for Ryder.
“Okay.” He nodded and smiled as he was slowly approached by friend after friend. There were no well wishes, no 'you look better' or 'how are you feeling' remarks, no questions, no words at all. There was no need.
Donald was hugged by everyone in the room, those he knew best holding him tighter than the others. By the time Ryder cheekily joined the queue, he couldn't let go of his boyfriend.
It was too much. In the best way.
Too much joy, too much love, too much support. It was everything he'd wanted in his life and never knew he had. Everything that would make his future so bright that he hoped he would never again see that black hole that sucked the light from his world.
No matter what happened, he could finally see that he had a future. One that, he had a feeling, would strongly involve all the people in this room. One that, he hoped, would be spent walking side by side with Ryder.
He couldn't wait to live it.
He couldn't wait to live!
The End
Postlude ~ The Same Mistake
School assemblies always reminded him of church.
Sit still.
Don't talk
Don't step out of line.
Behave.
Listen.
There was just one, confusing, difference. School assemblies said the things he wanted to hear more than anything else:
Be yourself.
Stand up for your friends.
Accept yourself and others as they are.
Be respectful.
And most importantly of all:
you're safe.
The church never said anything like that. Especially lately. The past few weeks had been torture, sitting in those pews, listening to his family preacher rant on and on about the same thing. He felt so sure that they were meant for him. That someone had found out his secret. Well, someone else.
Defiance squirmed in his seat, and glanced over at Ryder, the only one who knew the truth of how he felt and why he wasn't ready to admit it. In the background of his thoughts, the principal announced that someone was going to make a speech, but all he could think was that time was running out. His secret was bound to come out sooner or later and it was up to him to decide if he exposed it himself, or if he sat back and let the inevitable happen.
At the rate things were going, his preacher was going to out him before he had the chance to do it himself.
“I've asked the principal if I can address you today, for one reason.”
It felt like his heart stopped, as he heard Chuck addressing the school, forcing Defiance to turn his full attention to the stage and listen carefully.
“To explain what that is, I'd like to read this statement I prepared, so that I don't get tongue tied or flake out at the last minute,” Chuck confessed, a titter of laughter escaping him, at the same time a few of the audience joined him.
When the sound died down, he forged ahead.
Defiance felt his hands shake as he swept his gaze over the attentive audience and raked a hand through his hair, relieved that no one was looking his way.
The past few weeks hadn't only been a nightmare for him, but he'd unwittingly taken it out on Chuck – the only son of the very preacher who had been making his life Hell. He knew it wasn't right to turn his anger on Chuck, who hadn't done anything wrong, but the two problems were so linked that he barely knew how he'd managed to breathe while on school grounds.