by Mark Roeder
“We don’t have to go in,” she said. “We can do something right here in the car.” She started unfastening my belt. I stopped her.
“Are you crazy? My parents are right inside!”
“Then let’s go somewhere. There are lots of places. I’ll show you.”
“I, uh, can’t…”
I thought about telling her my parents expected me home, but I’ll already acted like I was surprised they weren’t gone. I thought about telling her I was going with someone already, but how could I explain kissing her in the park?
“Why not?”
I was really sweating it. I was in a bad situation and I needed out.
“I’m not feeling very good.” Now there was the truth. “I feel like I’m gonna hurl.” From the way I felt just then, I’m sure I did look like I was about to blow chunks. I was feeling sick, but not in the way I was explaining to Kate. “Mind if I just drive you home? I’m sorry about this.”
“It’s okay, Brendan. We’ll get together some other time, soon.” She kissed my cheek and ran her hands all over my chest. Her hands wandered a lot as I drove her home. I was glad to get her out of the car.
Casper
I woke up on the stone bench. I was shivering and damp with morning dew. My hair stuck to my face and felt oily. I sat up and rubbed my arms, trying to get some feeling of warmth back in them. My side hurt where I’d slept curled up on the bench. My neck was stiff and popped like crazy when I twisted it. I was damp, and cold, and hungry, but that wasn’t the worst of my problems. My first lucid thought was of Brendan, and what he’d tried to do to me. The betrayal was too much to bear. I bowed my head and cried.
I hurt so bad inside I thought I’d die. I’m not talking about physical pain or hunger; I’m talking about the hurt I felt because of Brendan. My life sucked. I was poor, unpopular, weak, puny, and pathetic. The only thing I had going for me was Brendan. When he’d started spending time with me, it made me feel like I was somebody, like I wasn’t such a total loser after all. If a guy like Brendan Brewer, captain of the football team and all that, thought I was cool enough to hang with, then there must be something to it.
Every morning when I got up, I had Brendan to look forward to. I hadn’t known him long, but he was the one thing in my life I valued. He was the one thing about my life that didn’t suck ass. My mom was dead, my dad didn’t care about me, and my brother beat me, and worse. Being buds with Brendan Brewer was the one thing I had to hold onto. I didn’t know how I’d made it before he came along, and now, before we’d barely got started, he was gone. Worse than that, it had all been a fake. Brendan didn’t think I was cool. He didn’t like me. He just wanted to use me. He was a fucking pervert and he tried to molest me. I was nothing to him.
I sat there and cried for a good, long while. As I was doing so, one thought came to my mind that made me feel just a bit better. There was something else in my life that didn’t totally suck—Stacey. She was my friend, a real friend. She
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cared about me. She was the only one, but she cared about me. One was a whole lot better than zero when it came to that. I rubbed the tears out of my eyes and walked home. I entered cautiously, but I knew I was safe. It was about ten on Saturday morning and both Dad and Jason would still be asleep. Dad didn’t usually get up before noon on Saturdays and it was a safe bet that Jason would sleep until at least two in the afternoon.
I walked into the bathroom and pulled off all my clothes. I turned on the water and stepped under the warm spray. It felt better than anything. The cold that had seeped into my bones began to leave. I soaped myself up as the hot water beat down on me, easing the tension in my shoulders, bringing me back to life.
I thought about what Brendan had tried to do to me. I thought about his hand on my leg, and the way he groped me. I started to get excited standing there in the shower, thinking about what Brendan had done. If felt good being excited, but it disgusted and scared me. I was afraid that the things Jason had done to me were making me like him, and now Brendan was doing it to me too. I quickly turned off the water and got out.
I dried off, feeling clean and warm. My clothes were still a bit damp, and a little smelly, as I put them on, but not too bad. I guess I should say Stacey’s brother’s clothes; I was still wearing the ones I’d borrowed for the dance. I was clean anyway, and my hair wasn’t oily anymore. I combed my hair in the mirror, making myself as presentable as possible. I was going to go and see Stacey. I had to return the clothes I was wearing and pick up my own. I also had to explain why I hadn’t returned to her house after the dance. I wasn’t sure what I was going to tell her about that. I didn’t really want to admit what had happened. I was embarrassed and ashamed, even though I hadn’t done anything wrong.
* * * “What happened to you last night?” asked Stacey as soon as she opened the door.
I stood there in my borrowed clothes, wanting to tell her everything, willing to tell her nothing. It was too humiliating. My lower lip began to tremble. I bit it to keep it still. I clinched my fists trying very hard not to cry. Tears welled up in my eyes.
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“Oh Casper,” said Stacey hugging me. “What happened?” She pulled me inside and took me up to her room. I sat on the edge of her bed, staring out into space. Stacey looked at me with concern. I was fighting as hard as I could manage to keep back my tears. Her sympathy made it hard not to cry. I’d planned to pretend that everything was cool, but when I heard her sympathetic voice, I cracked. There was something in her soft voice, something that reminded me of my mom.
“Casper, what’s wrong?” I looked at her, the tears streaming from my eyes. I was so embarrassed, so humiliated.
“I can’t tell you.”
“You can tell me anything, Casper, you know that.”
“No, there are some things you don’t want to hear, some things you can’t.”
“Casper,” she said, sitting by me and taking my hands in hers “I do want to hear, tell me.”
“You’ll think I’m nasty. You’ll think I’m a pervert. You won’t be my friend anymore.” I broke down and cried in front of her. Stacey took me in her arms and held me as I cried. It made me cry even more. My mom used to hold me like that when I was upset.
“Brendan…” I said, between sobs “after the dance….he….” I cried even harder.
“He didn’t hit you did he?” asked Stacey confused. She was no doubt remembering my bruises.
“No.”
“I didn’t think he’d do something like that.”
“Worse,” I said. “Much worse.”
“Tell me,” said Stacey. She was seriously concerned. I could tell I was scaring her.
“We were in his car, in the park. He….” I had trouble getting the words out. It was so hard. Even if I hadn’t been crying, it would still have been hard. “I thought…he was my friend. I…thought he liked me. But he was just….using me. He…” I broke down and cried even harder than before. Stacey did her best to comfort me.
“You’re okay, Casper. I’m here. Tell me what happened.”
“He put his hand on my leg,” I said, tears still flowing from my eyes. I looked at Stacey. “He rubbed my leg.” I could see the horror began to rise in her eyes. “He…he grabbed me…he tried to…” I cried some more.
“Casper, are you sure?” asked Stacey. She looked like she just couldn’t believe what I was telling her. I became angry.
“You think I’m making this up?!”
“No. No, Casper. It’s just…it’s just hard to believe. Brendan Brewer?”
“Yes, Brendan Brewer. Brendan Brewer molested me,” I said flatly. Tears were still in my eyes, but I wasn’t crying. I hated him.
Stacey became very angry. I half expected smoke to come from her ears.
“That bastard! That fucking bastard! The next time I see him, I’m kicking him right in the balls! Oh, Casper, I’m so sorry.”
I could read the anger in her eyes, the pity, and the horr
or. She really hated Brendan just then. She was frightfully angry. I wondered about what she thought of me though. I knew I must disgust her.
“You think I’m nasty don’t you?” I asked.
“Why would I think that, Casper?”
“Because I…because he…”
“Casper. There is nothing wrong with you. I don’t think you’re nasty. I think you are sweet, and kind, and wonderful. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t cause this to happen. Brendan did it. He tried to take advantage of you. That fucking bastard!”
I told Stacey the whole story. She knew parts of it. She knew I’d been hanging out with Brendan, but I told her how nice he’d been to me, how good he made me feel. I told her all about what happened in the car. How Brendan touched me. How I fought my way out and ran. Stacey kept taking me in her arms and holding me. Her eyes smoldered with hatred for Brendan. She switched back and forth between concern for me, and contempt for him.
I felt a lot better by the time I left. I’d told Stacey what had happened and she still liked me. Before I talked to her, I felt like maybe I’d done something to cause it, that maybe I’d brought what had happened on myself. I knew now that I hadn’t. At least there was that. There was no changing what had happened, however. There was no undoing what had been done. Brendan had betrayed me in the worst way. The best part of my life was gone.
Brendan
I got in the shower as soon as I could get inside and get my clothes off. Kate’s scent was still on me. It repulsed me. I hated having to put on an act for the sake of everyone else. I’d always hated it, but I had to do it, especially now, especially after what had happened with Casper. I needed to look like a straight boy now more than ever. I had to cover my tracks, make it look like I was as obsessed with girls as my team-mates.
I let the hot water flow over my muscles, relaxing them. I was tense. It had been a difficult night. I kept asking myself the same questions over and over. How could I have been so wrong about Casper? How could I possibly undo what I’d done? What would I do when Monday morning came and I had to face the rumors that were surely already circulating about me? I knew the little act I’d put on with Kate would quash most of the rumors about what had happened between me and Casper, but I still worried that it wouldn’t get rid of them all. Any doubt in the minds of my classmates was dangerous. I felt my mask slipping and it terrified me.
One miscalculation, one fuck-up, and my life was turned upside down. I felt like I didn’t even know which way was up. In one swift move I’d managed to unmask myself, to one boy at least, and destroy what I had going with Casper.
I closed my eyes, trying to forget the look of horror and betrayal on his face. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. It was etched there—permanently. As frightened as I was, knowing what I’d done to Casper was the worst of it all. He’d scrambled from the car as if I was some kind of axe murderer. He was terrified and hurt. I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to hurt him at all. I loved him, and I wanted him to love me.
67 Any possibility of a relationship with Casper was destroyed. It was beyond clear that he didn’t want to have anything to do with me. I’d dreamed of holding him close and kissing him. I knew now how that would repulse and disgust him. It had taken a long time for me to accept what I was. It had taken a long time for me to feel good about myself, and now even that was slipping. If Casper was so disgusted by my advance, then maybe there was something wrong with me after all.
I let the water beat down on my muscles. I stuck my head under the shower and just let the water fall on me. Why did my life have to be so fucking complicated? Why couldn’t I just be open about who and what I was? Why couldn’t I just flirt with boys in the halls at school and have a boyfriend and have everyone not think a thing about it? Why was the world such a screwed up place? Why was being gay such a big fucking deal?
I got out of the shower, dried off, and slipped on some boxers. I lay back on my bed, my hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling. Images of the night haunted me like ghosts, but eventually I managed to fall asleep.
* * * I walked into school with tremendous dread. I had no idea what awaited me there. I half expected everyone to start pointing and yelling “fag.” It was oddly normal, however. No one said anything about what had happened in the park on Friday night. I even ran across a couple of people that I knew were there, and they looked like they didn’t think a thing about it. It was like it hadn’t happened at all. I was surprised, and relieved.
Between second and third period I met Brad in the hall. He pulled me aside so he could talk to me in private.
“How’s it going, Brendan?”
“Pretty good really. No one has said anything to me about what happened.”
“I told you.”
“You heard anyone saying anything about me and Casper?”
“All I’ve heard is people talking about you and Kate. There is a rumor that you fucked her on the football field.”
I nearly laughed out loud, with relief and at the absurdity of the rumor.
“Maybe it’s going to be okay,” I said.
Mark A. Roeder 69 “Of course it is. I told you dumb ass, every guy gets called “fag” by someone, sometime or other. It don’t mean shit. It really doesn’t mean anything coming from that little piss ant. I don’t even know why you hung around with him anyway. What did you do that got him so pissed? You never told me.”
Luckily, the bell rang and saved me the trouble of making up a lie. I could hardly tell Brad that Casper got mad because I ran my hand up his leg and felt him up.
I hurried to class, relieved that my life might not be over after all. There was still Casper to deal with, however. The worst of the whole situation was still there. I’d hurt him and I didn’t know how to make it right. Knowing I’d caused him pain was even worse than living in fear that I’d be marked as a fag.
Casper and I crossed paths after third period. I met him in the hall. His eyes were smoldering when he looked at me. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was, but I knew I’d likely get a fist in the face for my trouble. I knew for sure Casper would make another scene. I didn’t want that. I’d gotten off easy after what had happened on Friday. My luck wouldn’t hold if there was another scene with Casper. I was afraid of him.
The anger in his eyes wasn’t the worst of it. What really hit me was the pain and fear. He was hurt, hurt bad. He looked at me like I’d betrayed him. That look was like a dagger in my gut, twisting and turning while I writhed in agony. I deserved it, every bit of it.
I think the fear was what hit me the hardest. Casper was afraid of me, that much was certain. He unconsciously shrank away from me, even surrounded by dozens of others in the hallway. He was afraid I’d hurt him, that I’d try something with him again. I can’t describe how much it pained me to see him fear me like that. He looked like he was afraid I’d attack him. It made me feel about two inches tall.
In mere moments he was gone, but the pain remained. How had I managed to screw things up so badly so fast? The one person that I loved the most was the one person who hated me the most. I didn’t know how long I could go on like that.
Lunch was the worst. I’d been sitting with Casper and Stacey for several days, but I sure couldn’t do that anymore. I stiffened as I passed their table. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Casper frown, and Stacey glare at me. It made me feel like a rat. I was a rat, worse than a rat. I joined my teammates at a table about as far away from Casper as I could manage, but I knew he was there, afraid of me, hating me. My friends laughed and joked with me as always, but nothing was funny anymore. All the joy had been sucked out of my life. I pretended that nothing was wrong. I laughed. I joked with my friends, but I was crying on the inside. My life was over.
Casper
I’d been trying to avoid Brendan, but I passed him in the hall just before fourth period. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I neared him. He looked so handsome, so clean cut and nice. It seemed impossible that
he was the same guy who molested me. He looked so innocent, but God only knows what he would have done if I hadn’t gotten away. I was glad we were in a crowded hallway. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me there.
I lived in fear. I had not told anyone what had happened besides Stacey, and I’d made her promise not to tell anyone, but I was still afraid Brendan would come after me, him or his buddies. I knew if I talked, he’d beat me worse than I’d ever been beaten before. I knew he’d make me pay if I told what he’d done to me. I wasn’t going to tell. Maybe I should have, but it just wasn’t worth it. No one would believe me anyway. Brendan was like a god at school. I was nothing.
I wondered if he’d tried the same thing with other boys. He probably had. He’d tried it with me, so he’d probably done it before. He probably did it a lot. Who knew how many boys he’d taken advantage of, the mere thought made me sick. I wondered if I shouldn’t come forward and tell one of the school counselors or teachers what he’d done. If he was doing to other boys what he’d tried to do to me, then someone needed to do something about it.
I knew they wouldn’t believe me. Then again, maybe other boys had reported him too. If enough did it, then someone would have to believe it. Then again, maybe I was the first. If that were so, then it was less likely they’d believe me. I thought that maybe I should still tell. Even if no one believed me, maybe they’d believe the next boy who reported him. Guys like him needed to be stopped.
My thoughts were brave, but I was not. I knew I should say something, but I just couldn’t do it. It was too frightening, too humiliating. I knew I should report Brendan anyway, but I just didn’t have the balls to do it. I felt like a coward. I just couldn’t summon the courage to report him, not yet.
I wasn’t going to tell, but I was still scared. I was afraid he’d rough me up just to give me a little taste of what would happen if I did talk. I was screwed. Brendan had all the power. One word from him and I’d be dead meat. I was sorry our paths had ever crossed. I never once guessed that I was in such danger hanging out with him, but then again, I never suspected that he was a disgusting perv.