by Drew Hunt
“Sweet.”
“Listen, uh, I’ve been invited to a party, and…” Parker was finding it difficult to talk with an excited Mandy clinging to him.
Mason wondered where Brad, Mandy’s boyfriend, a fellow soccer player, was.
“Uh, the party’s just for members of the team and, uh…”
“Their dates,” Mandy put in, kissing Parker again.
“Oh, uh. I thought you were with Brad,” Mason said, feeling as though he was gonna hurl.
“Nah, I dumped him when I got crowned queen and Parker here became my king.”
Mason had to jam his hands in his pockets, otherwise he was sure he’d have reached out and hauled Mandy away from Parker and delivered a sharp upper cut to her chin. Parker was his!
“Tomorrow, then,” Parker said, shooting an apologetic look at Mason.
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
“But, Parky, there’s the charity rally, then of course the homecoming dance,” Mandy chimed in.
“Oh, uh, yeah.” Parker smiled at Mandy, Mason hoped it looked forced, but wasn’t so sure. “So I guess I’ll see you at the dance, then.”
“Yeah.” Mason didn’t think he was gonna bother going.
* * * *
A pleading phone call from Parker to attend the dance had its intended effect. Mason, along with a couple of his soccer buds, went stag. Parker had offered to line Mason up with a date, but Mason had been firm in his refusal, and Parker hadn’t pressed the point.
Though he had no shortage of pretty girls asking to dance with him, Mason only accepted offers from the most persistent. His gaze would inevitably drift over to what Parker was up to. He seemed to be dancing much too intimately with his partners for Mason’s liking.
The evening dragged on, Mason hating every minute of it. He managed to lock eyes a couple of times with Parker, who while obviously enjoying himself, shot Mason a series of apologetic looks. Mason sent back an understanding smile, all the while wishing he were the one dancing with Parker.
At just after ten P.M, Mason finally had had enough and slipped away quietly.
* * * *
Sunday saw Parker on Mason’s doorstep, a bag of doughnuts in his hand, and an apologetic look on his face. As would happen many times in the future, Mason forgave Parker, and told him he loved him. Parker would thank him and apologize, but not reciprocate the declaration of love.
* * * *
The bell signaling the end of first period rang, breaking Mason out of his reverie. He gathered his books and trudged off to his next class, ignoring the strange looks and whispered comments of his fellow students.
As had happened during his algebra class, Mason’s mind began to wander again in AP chemistry.
* * * *
Parker had thankfully ditched the ever-clingy Mandy, but had taken up with Lorraine Little. Lorraine seemed to have a brain beneath her straight-cropped black hair. Despite his best efforts, Mason couldn’t bring himself to hate the girl. She was in several of Mason’s AP classes and he’d always gotten on quite well with her.
Parker hadn’t dated Lorraine for long before he ditched her. This resulted in another row.
“Fuck, Mase, I don’t get it. You’re telling me you’re pissed at me for dumping my girlfriend? I thought you’d be pumped.”
“That’s not it,” Mason struggled to explain. Truth was he couldn’t understand his reaction. “Lorraine is a nice girl. She’s safe, she’s…Oh, fuck, I don’t know. She came over to me yesterday in tears that you’d ended things with her.”
“Yeah, so? She’s just a girl.”
Mason shook his head. “You use people. That’s…not cool.”
* * * *
Turning the page in his chem textbook, Mason mused that at least things had returned to what had passed for normal until Parker started sniffing round Jennifer Stone.
* * * *
He could, and did, hate Jennifer with as much vehemence as he had Mandy. She was clingy, clueless and her perfume was cloying.
It had been a mistake. Mason knew it would end in disagreement, but he allowed Parker to talk him into double dating. Mason had asked Lorraine to go with him to the movies, though he was at pains to point out to Lorraine that the evening was merely one friend socializing with another. She accepted the invitation, even kissing Mason on the cheek for being so sweet.
As Parker’s truck didn’t have a rear seat, they decided to use Mason’s Beretta. Mason drove, forcing Parker and the bitch Jennifer to occupy the cramped back seat. The restricted conditions didn’t seem to hinder Parker; he and Jennifer went at it complete with accompanying moans and slurps. Mason tried to tamp down his anger and distress, attempting to focus on Lorraine, giving her as good a time as he could. She too was upset at how Parker had seemingly moved on without effort.
Once the girls had been dropped off, Mason exploded with rage. Parker tried to defend his actions, but Mason wasn’t having any of it. Parker became sullen. Mason was forced to pull over when Parker started getting clingy and needful. Interrupted by a series of sniffs and nose blowing, Parker admitted he too had hated every minute of the evening.
“Why do you do all this crap, Parker?”
“Cause I need a scholarship to get out of this hick town and make something of my life. Mom has to work two jobs to keep a roof over our heads, Dad ran out on us. I’m not gonna be like them, I’m gonna study law and make something of my life. To do that I need to play football. My grades aren’t good enough to get an academic scholarship.”
“And if people find out that…”
“That I’m a fag, I won’t be able to play, and bang goes my chances of college.”
“Oh, Parker.”
“I know none of this is right, but please, Mase, please don’t ask me to stop.” Parker gestured with his hand, presumably indicating the double-dating episode, and the other activities designed to make him appear straight. “I gotta escape my life and this town.”
“There must be an easier way. This is just tearing you apart.” Mason didn’t add that it was tearing their relationship apart, too.
“I wish there was. Please, Mase, hold me?”
Mason kissed the top of Parker’s head and pulled the big guy closer. Fuck, what a mess.
The next week saw Parker extricate himself from Jennifer’s clutches, and he remained faithful to Mason until early in the new year.
* * * *
At the sound of the lunch bell, Mason gathered his books. News of Parker’s outing of him at the lockers that morning had spread. Mason heard more than one person call out “Fag” to him as he walked down the halls. Standing in line at the snack bar, Mason was jostled and pushed. He spun round to face whoever was doing it, but no one met his eye. He bought his sandwiches, snacks and a couple of sodas and left. Walking around the perimeter of the sports fields en-route to his tree, he tried to recapture some of the happiness that he and Parker had enjoyed during Christmas break. He forced to the front of his mind images of him and Parker kissing in front of the tree, as they exchanged gifts, Mason’s parents watching them contentedly. However, the events at the snack bar weighed too heavily on his mind to allow him to reminisce.
Sliding his back down the trunk of the tree, he waited for Parker to show up for their regular lunchtime rendezvous. He kept looking at his watch, but Parker never showed. Realization began to dawn that things between him and Parker were worse than he’d thought.
As he half-heartedly ate his sandwich, Mason debated with himself about going to the office and reporting sick with a view to going home. He decided to stick things out, a decision he would later come to bitterly regret.
* * * *
Afternoon school followed a similar pattern to the events of the morning. He and Parker shared a study hall during fourth hour, but when Mason pushed open the door to the library, Parker was nowhere in sight. A heavy lump formed in Mason’s chest. Parker was avoiding him.
Lazily scanning the pages of a Sports Illustrated, Mason couldn’t
help but think back to another occasion where his and Parker’s relationship experienced yet more bumps in the road.
News of a couple of members of the basketball team being caught in a compromising position in the showers spread like wildfire. The two guys, whom Mason knew only slightly, were immediately ostracized by the basketball team, the remainder of the school’s jock body soon following. The news had spooked an already nervous Parker, who, much to Mason’s distress, ratcheted up his red-blooded, pussy-hunting macho persona. Parker even told Mason he couldn’t be seen talking with him at school for fear his buds would catch on to them.
Mason had argued it was perfectly acceptable for best friends, both of whom were jocks, to be seen hanging round one another. But Parker was adamant. Mason had given serious consideration to breaking things off. He’d even raised the issue with Parker. But Parker had pleaded with Mason not to end things.
“You’re everything to me, Mase. I couldn’t go on without you. You’re the only one who understands me, who can love me. Please, babe. We can still meet here at your place, or at mine when mom isn’t home.”
That raised another bone of contention between them, that of Parker coming out to his mother, a woman Mason held a great deal of respect for. But Parker, fearing rejection, always refused to even consider the idea.
“is it worth it? I know we can’t kiss and stuff at school, I’m not asking for that, but to not even speak or spend time together, that’s just…” He groped for the right words. “Just stupid.”
Parker agreed that they could still eat lunch together at the tree, but they couldn’t both be seen walking there at the same time.
Figuring he’d wrung as many concessions from Parker as he was likely to get, Mason had agreed. So for a couple of weeks people around school never saw Parker and Mason together.
Operation Ignore as Mason termed it, ended when Henry, the quarterback, had asked Parker why he and Mason had fallen out. Parker had gone to Mason’s house that night and told him about the conversation, and how he’d not been able to come up with a suitable explanation.
Mason merely nodded in understanding and watched as Parker went through his now customary groveling routine. As usual Mason forgave Parker. He took him up to his bedroom where they had sex. Once he’d come down from his climax, Mason kissed Parker on the lips and told the big guy that he loved him. Parker smiled, thanked him, but didn’t return the sentiment.
Mason still hated how Parker felt the need to date girls. He knew he either had to accept the situation or end the relationship. This last he knew he couldn’t do. Despite their problems, Mason was in love with the big guy. He did extract a promise from Parker that when the two of them went to college and shared an apartment, Parker would only take the occasional girl to an official function, he wouldn’t date in the regular sense.
The uneasy peace they’d brokered was shattered when word got around school that Parker had “done it” with one of the cheerleaders. The girl in question had announced with glee to anyone who would listen that she’d got a notch on her bedpost with Parker’s name on it. Mason, knowing the girl’s sluttish reputation, didn’t fully believe the rumors, but thought he better go see Parker and ask him about it, just to set his mind at rest. Parker was evasive, and wouldn’t meet Mason’s eyes.
“Shit, man, it’s a simple question. Did you have sex with that…that…whore!”
“She’s not a whore.”
“I don’t care what she is. Did you fuck her?” Mason was shouting by this point.
“God damn it, Mase. If you want to know, then yes, I fucked her. I bent her over the kitchen table and pounded the hell out of her pussy. She screamed that I was the best she’d ever had.”
Blinded by rage, Mason delivered a punch to Parker’s mouth. He went reeling backward and landed on his ass, blood spurting from his top lip. Parker sprang to his feet, drew back his fist, but his arm fell to his side.
“Go on, hit me, you fucking bastard! God knows you can’t hurt me worse than you have already.”
“I’m sorry,” came a small voice.
“It’s too late, Parker. I’ve put up with a lot because of my love for you. I’ve watched as you’ve publicly ignored me, I’ve stood back while you’ve danced and made out with girls. I’ve listened to you bull-shitting with your friends about fucking pussy. If anything I hated that the most. But to find out that you’ve actually done it! That’s more than enough. It’s over, Parker. And this time I mean it.”
Mason stormed out of Parker’s apartment. His vision blurred with unshed tears, he ran down the stairs, tripping over a trash bag that someone had left in the lobby.
He refused to have anything to do with Parker. He told his folks to send him away whenever he visited the house. Thanks to caller ID he was able to not pick up when Parker called. It was a little more difficult to not speak to him at school, though whenever Parker approached him, Mason would walk toward other students, knowing Parker couldn’t argue or plead with him when others were within earshot.
One Friday night, Mason’s parents returned home late from a function and found an incoherent and very drunk Parker on the porch. Initially Mason was furious, but seeing the once strong and confident boy-man he loved so much, now beaten down and pathetic, Mason yet again forgave him, telling him he was sorry for pushing him away.
The next morning Mason enjoyed watching a hung-over Parker run for the bathroom when Mason’s mom offered the big jock a plate full of sausage, bacon, and pancakes.
* * * *
Looking at his watch, Mason saw study hall was almost through. When the bell rang he walked the halls until he sought out one of Parker’s team mates. Before he could enquire if they had any information as to Parker’s whereabouts, the guy, Todd, one of the defensive linemen, pushed Mason into a bank of lockers and punched him in the gut. Mason doubled over and thought he was gonna puke. Even though plenty of students witnessed the assault, no one came to his aid.
“We don’t like fags trying to queer our friends,” Todd said before hocking up a mouthful of spit and firing it into Mason’s face.
Mason was too stunned, too winded to react. He only had the presence of mind to wipe away Todd’s spittle.
“What the fuck you staring at?” Mason said to the crowd, who, judging the show was over, began to move on, but not before a few of them called him a fag, queer and other similar comments. Only one person, Lorraine, stayed to offer comfort.
“You should report this to the office,” she said.
“What’s the point? Thanks for stopping, though. Means a lot.”
“You sure you’ll be okay?”
“Yeah. It’ll all blow over soon.” Mason didn’t believe what he’d said, and judging by her expression, Lorraine didn’t, either.
* * * *
Mason managed to get through the rest of the school day unmolested, though the level of taunting showed no signs of diminishing. He was glad to hear the final bell ring and was soon at his locker putting away his books. He had decided to drive over to Parker’s place to demand an explanation for the shit he’d pulled earlier that day.
However, he was forced to delay his plans when Jacob—a fellow member of the student government—reminded him about their after-school meeting.
“Shit, I ain’t in the mood. It’s just gonna be a yawn.”
“Come on, dude. We never get enough people to show up to make a quorum. It shouldn’t take long to get through the planned business.
“Fuck, this is all I need,” Mason groused as he followed Jacob down the hall. Amazingly, the few people they passed didn’t make any comments about Mason’s perceived sexuality. He figured they were afraid of Jacob, who was a big shot on the wrestling team. As he walked, he idly wondered why Jacob hadn’t made reference to that day’s hot item of gossip.
The meeting dragged on, Mason growing more and more anxious to get away and go see Parker.
“Jeez, some people just like listening to the sound of their own voices,” Maso
n said none too quietly to Jacob, when the student body president had been speaking for over ten minutes with little sign of winding down.
Jacob snickered. The exchange caused others to either smile or shoot disapproving glances at the errant committee members.
Finally the meeting was adjourned, Mason unable to recall a single thing that had been discussed. He bid Jacob goodbye in the hallway before going in the opposite direction.
He hadn’t even reached the exit doors before Todd, who had obviously lain in wait, accosted him. “Hey, fag.”
“Not that fucking shit again.” Mason formed a fist, but his hand was stayed by the more powerfully built lineman.
“Much as I’d love to deck you here and now, Grant, we’ve got more important business. Collins wants to see you.”
Mason, sensing a trap, resisted. “If I want to speak to Parker, then I’ll go see him when I’m good and ready.”
“You’re really starting to piss me off, fag. Just come with me.”
Todd hadn’t let go of Mason’s forearm, and his unwillingness to play along resulted in the football player tightening his grip.
“Get the fuck off me.” Mason struggled ineffectually.
Another member of the team emerged from round the corner. “Fuck, man, get a move on, otherwise we’ll be caught.”
“Stop bein’ such a fucking pussy, Jared. Come on, give me a hand with the fag.”
“What the fu…” The rest of Mason’s comments were cut off by a blow to his stomach. This time he did puke.
As he tried to regain his breath, Mason was bundled out of the building with Jared on one side of him, and Todd on the other.
Mason was dragged to the now empty student parking lot and dumped into the back of a covered delivery van, the doors being slammed behind him. In the darkened interior it took him a few moments to realize he wasn’t alone. Two other members of the football team were present.
Seeing he had spotted them, one said, “Welcome to your worst nightmare, fag.”
Mason, knowing he was in deep shit, threw himself to the side of the van and began pounding on the metal panel.