by Mark Roeder
Brendan
I walked to my convertible after football practice. I knew I was in for it before I even got close. Stacey was standing there waiting on me, her arms crossed, her expression angry and determined. I swallowed hard as I drew near, looking around to see if there was anyone else around. Luckily, we were alone.
“What kind of sick monster are you?”
“I can explain,” I said.
“Save it! Casper told me what you did. There is no explanation for that.
How could you do that to that sweet boy? You make me sick.”
“I didn’t mean…”
“I’m warning you. You stay away from Casper. You don’t go near him. You
don’t touch him. You don’t even talk to him. If you try what you did again so help me I’ll make you wish you weren’t born.”
“Just let me…”
“Your little secret is safe, Brendan. I don’t know why, but Casper hasn’t told anyone what you tried to do to him. If I was him I’d have gone straight to the police. He made me promise not to tell either, and I’ll keep my word, unless you try something with him again. You touch one hair on his head and I’ll tell everyone.”
Stacey was really scaring me. My greatest fear was being found out. I lived in terror of my team-mates and friends discovering I was gay. What Stacey was threatening was even worse. I could end up in jail. If only I could get her to listen to me, then she’d understand, but she wasn’t having any of that.
“Please Stacey, I’m begging you. Please let me explain.”
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. I can hardly stand being near you. You are the worst kind of filth. It’s one thing to be gay, Brendan; it’s another trying to force yourself on an innocent boy like Casper. Remember what I said, stay away from him or you’re finished.”
With that she was gone. I hadn’t been able to explain anything to her. She hadn’t given me the chance. I guess I couldn’t blame her. In her eyes, I was little better than a rapist. I was a little surprised she hadn’t gone to the authorities herself.
I got in my car and drove around town. I was so upset, I was practically in tears. How had everything gone so wrong? I was so stupid. Why hadn’t I just told Casper how I felt about him instead of putting my hand on his leg like that? Why hadn’t I told him I was in love with him instead of groping him? I was an idiot, a fucking idiot.
I felt like I was going to explode. I was scared. No one was talking about what had happened in the park. Stacey had told me that Casper was keeping his mouth shut, and that she would too, but how long would that last? How many days did I have before the end? If either Casper or Stacey told what they knew, I was finished, and there was nothing to stop them, nothing.
I drove around for hours until sunset came and my mind was numb from turning my problems over and over in my head. The strain was too much. I couldn’t take it. Something had to give.
As I neared the far edge of town, I saw a blond boy walking down the sidewalk. I recognized him immediately, even in the growing darkness. It was Casper. He turned and saw me at almost the same moment I noticed him and bolted as if the hounds of hell were after him. He ran away from the street, toward the old town cemetery. I stopped the car and ran after him.
He was a lot faster than I anticipated. Casper could really move. My longer legs and all that running in football practice gave me the advantage. I slowly closed in on him.
“Casper! Wait! I just want to talk!” I yelled after him. He refused to listen and kept on running.
I knew I was scaring him, but I had no choice. I had to talk to him. I had to make him listen. I had to make him understand. I knew I was taking quite a chance. If he got away, he’d tell Stacey and she’d destroy me. Even if he didn’t, I might not be able to make him see reason. I couldn’t live with all that was hanging over my head. I couldn’t live with knowing that Casper hated and feared me. I had to try, even if it cost me everything.
Even as I ran, I knew what I would do if I failed. I couldn’t face what would happen. I couldn’t take everyone knowing I was gay. I certainly couldn’t take everyone thinking I’d tried to rape another boy. It didn’t matter if it was true or not, just having everyone think that about me would be too much. If I failed, I’d make sure I didn’t have to face any of it. I’d be dead by morning.
I caught up with Casper in the cemetery. I lunged for him and caught him around the knees. He went down hard but fought like a wildcat trying to free himself. I forced him onto his back. He kicked and screamed and beat on my chest with his fists. He was out of his mind with panic and sheer terror. I worried that he’d have some kind of seizure or something.
I clapped my hand over his mouth to silence his screams. The action struck fear into my heart. It made me feel like a rapist. It made me sick to my stomach. Casper kept fighting me for all he was worth, but I held him down. He couldn’t get away.
“Casper, I just want to talk. I just want to explain. I’m not going to hurt you.”
He didn’t believe me. He kept struggling. Tears were flowing from his eyes. He was terrified. It made my heart ache. Finally, he stopped struggling. He knew he couldn’t break free.
“If you promise not to scream, I’ll take my hand off your mouth. I just want to talk, Casper.”
After a few moments he nodded his head. The look in his eyes tore into my heart. It was a look of hate and fear, all the more devastating because it came from the one I loved.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I repeated. I wanted to get that point across to him. “I just want to talk, to explain. When we’re done talking, you can go, no matter what.”
I could tell he didn’t really believe me, but he didn’t have much choice in the matter. I was several times stronger than him.
“Friday night, in the park—I didn’t mean to scare you. I wasn’t going to hurt you, or do anything you didn’t want. I know I shouldn’t have touched you like that, but I thought, I thought…”
Tears welled up in my eyes and I started crying. It was too much to bear. The reality of my situation bore down upon me. It wasn’t the fear of being exposed either, it was the knowledge that the boy I loved didn’t love me back. I felt utterly alone.
“I’m so sorry, Casper. I’m so sorry I scared you like that. I didn’t mean to. I’d never hurt you, Casper, never. I…” My sobs halted my voice yet again. When I could once again see Casper through the tears, I saw a look of profound confusion on his face.
“I’ve never told anyone this, but…I’m gay, Casper. I’ve been so alone. All I want is someone to love, but I can’t…” I cried some more. I was doing a really lousy job of telling him what I needed to, I kept getting sidetracked. Maybe there were just things in me that I needed to say to someone. Casper already hated me. He already knew about me. In that he was safe.
“I really, really like you Casper. I wasn’t faking our friendship. I know you have no reason to believe me, but the times we spent together were the best.”
Casper listened, but remained silent. I wished that he would say something, anything. His silence terrified me.
“I made a mistake, Casper. You see, I thought you were like me. I thought you liked boys too. I thought you were interested in me the way I was you. I love you, Casper. I’m in love with you. I’d never hurt you, not ever. I’m so sorry I upset you. I’m so sorry for what I did. I’d do anything to take it back, but I can’t. I know you don’t trust me. I don’t blame you. But nothing would have happened, Casper. If you told me to stop, I would have stopped. I’m so sorry.” I started crying once more.
Casper looked confused, but still suspicious. I think he suspected that I was playing some kind of sick game with him. It made my heart ache to know he didn’t trust me.
“I don’t know how to prove to you that I’m telling the truth. If I was what you think I am, I could have you right now. No one is around to help you. I could do whatever I wanted. But I’m not what you think I am, Casper, I’m not.”
&
nbsp; I released my grip on him, stood, and backed a couple of steps away.
“I told you the truth, Casper, about everything. It’s up to you to believe me or not. I’m going to leave. I’m not going to hurt you. It would have been the same Friday night. I wouldn’t have hurt you. I’d never hurt you. Please believe me. I’m sorry.”
I turned and walked away, leaving him lying there on the grass. I didn’t look back, I just walked. I was still crying. I was shaking. I knew my fate was in his hands.
I hadn’t taken more than five steps when I felt something hard smash into the side of my face. I fell, clutching my jaw. I could feel it slick with blood.
“You fucking son of a bitch! What did you do to him!? What did you do to him!?”
It was Stacey. She’d come out of nowhere. I tried to get to my feet, but before I could do so, she swung the tree branch she was holding full force across my abdomen. I cried out in pain and doubled over, clutching my stomach.
“I didn’t touch him!” I half yelled, half moaned.
“Bull shit!”
“Stacey! Stacey! Stop!” It was Casper. He came running up. “He didn’t hurt me. He didn’t do anything.”
I started to get up, but Stacey speared me with her eyes.
“You stay right where you are or I’ll take your fucking head off!”
I had no doubt she was serious. I did as I was told. She was sure a lot tougher than she looked.
“Are you okay, Casper? He didn’t hurt you did he?”
“No. I told you he didn’t. He just wanted to talk to me.”
Stacey still eyed me suspiciously. I sat there on the grass, her prisoner.
“What about Friday night? Huh? What the fuck were you doing then?” she asked me with spite.
I looked at Casper. He didn’t say anything. It was a nightmare. I had to explain everything to Stacey, just like I had to Casper. I had to speak the most difficult words of my life, again.
When I finished, I was bawling. I was sitting there on the grass bawling and bleeding. Everything was so fucked up. So much for the tough football quarterback, a girl had kicked my ass and a boy half my size held my fate in his hands.
“Get up.”
I stood.
“Now leave,” said Stacey.
I looked at Casper, wanting to tell him yet again how sorry I was about everything. I still didn’t know if he really believed me or not. I turned away and limped to my car. A trickle of blood was running down the side of my face and I felt like someone had torn my guts out. As bad as the physical pain hurt, it was my heart that hurt the most.
Casper
I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Jason was out carousing with friends, so I was safe for the moment. The events of the night were still buzzing through my head. I was lost, and confused. When Brendan had spotted me, I’d thought it was all over. I thought he was either going to beat me, or rape me, or both. He had done neither, however, and he’d told me things that made my head spin.
I wasn’t quite sure what to believe, but some things he said made sense. If he wanted to hurt me, if he wanted to have me, he could have, right there in the cemetery. Stacey had shown up at the very end, but neither Brendan nor I knew that was going to happen. Brendan was a lot stronger than me, and we were alone, in an isolated place. He could have made me do anything. He could have done anything to me he wanted. But he didn’t. He just said he was sorry for everything and walked away.
I was beginning to think that maybe I’d been wrong about a few things. On Friday night, I’d assumed he was going to do something terrible to me. I thought he was going to use me like my brother did sometimes. But that didn’t really make sense. If that is what he was going to do, then why would he try it in a public park where there were lots of other people around? Why didn’t he take me somewhere isolated where no one could hear me scream? It would have been easy enough. I’d have gone with him, and he knew that. And then, just tonight, he’d had me in such an isolated spot, but he didn’t try anything. Sure, he’d chased me, knocked me down and held me, held his hand over my mouth, but he didn’t hurt me. He didn’t try anything with me. If he was after me on Friday night, why didn’t he finish the job tonight?
I thought about Brendan’s tears. Those were real tears. He wasn’t just crying a little for effect, to gain my sympathy and make me believe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. He was bawling, that tough football jock was bawling his eyes out as he told me how sorry he was, and how it was all a big mistake. I heard the regret in his voice. I felt his pain. He wasn’t faking.
But he was a fag. He’d admitted it to me, and to Stacey. He was just like my brother, a disgusting fag. He’d even told me how he wanted me. That was so fucking sick. He was a pervert, one of those guys that everyone hated.
He’d told me how he loved me. I didn’t understand. Being a fag was all about sex. It was all about taking advantage of someone weaker. What was this about love? Fags didn’t love, they just molested. And yet, when he said it, I felt that he meant it, he really meant it. I felt something in me too, and, for the first time ever, it didn’t fill me with revulsion. I felt the same friendship I’d felt for Brendan before everything went wrong on Friday night, and I felt something more. I liked him. I really, really liked him. I…I couldn’t even let myself think the words. It was too queer, too disgusting. It wasn’t natural. My brother had done it to me. He’d made me feel things for Brendan that I shouldn’t be feeling.
I was disgusted by the feelings rising within me, but there was something within them, something that I’d been needing and missing.
I tried to put the contradictions together. Brendan was gay. He was a fag. Fags were bad. They were evil and disgusting. They raped and abused. But Brendan had never hurt me. He’d put his hand on my leg, he’d rubbed it, he’d touched me. That was disgusting, but he hadn’t hurt me. He hadn’t tried to rape or abuse me. I’d thought that was within his mind, but I knew I was wrong. It didn’t add up. Fags were bad, Brendan was a fag, but Brendan wasn’t bad. Even as I thought about it, I grew uncomfortable calling Brendan a fag. It was such a harsh and hurtful word. It didn’t seem to apply to him. Brendan was gay, but calling him a fag was wrong. I was beginning to wonder if I hadn’t been wrong about a lot of things.
Brendan
“What the fuck happened to you?” asked Alec. We were standing in the school hallway before school. He was looking at the big bruise on the side of my face, and my black eye. A lot of people were looking. I had an even bigger bruise across my abs where Stacey and smacked me with a branch, but that one was hidden by my shirt.
“I got into a fight,” I lied. I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Alec that I’d gotten my ass kicked by a girl. It wasn’t just Alec either. A crowd had gathered.
“Who was it?” asked Dan. “He must have been big if he was able to do that to you.”
“I know who it was.” I turned at the sound of the voice. I froze in terror. It was Stacey. I was about to get caught in my lie, but worse, much worse. Stacey knew things that could destroy me, and she hated me for what I’d done to Casper. I turned to her, swallowed hard, and waited for my life to end.
“I was there. I saw it. Two football players from Calvert City were picking on my friend Casper. Brendan jumped on them both. You should see those guys. He really messed them up.”
My huge sigh of relief was lost amid all the congratulations. I’d thought I was a goner. I looked into Stacey’s eyes and she smiled at me. I smiled back. My chest suddenly felt warm. I felt warm all over. I felt like I was consumed by happiness. Stacey believed me. She believed I’d never meant to hurt Casper. She’d have told everything if she didn’t. She believed me. More importantly, if she believed me, then Casper did too. I felt as if I’d received a stay of execution right as I was stepping up to the gallows.
I wanted to talk to Stacey just then, but there was no way. I was surrounded by people wanting a look at my bashed up face and wanting to know what had happened. Stacey stepped
away and I stood there trapped in the crowd, making up answers to questions about the fight.
* * * At lunch, I took a deep breath and walked to Casper’s table. I sat down near him and Stacey. Casper looked at me oddly. He didn’t smile, but he wasn’t angry either. He looked more confused than anything. We didn’t talk, but it was nice to be near him again. It hurt, too, however. I kept stealing glances of him and my heart ached for him. I didn’t know how it had happened, but there was no doubt I was in love with him.
Why did I fall in love with this boy? Why not some guy on my team? Why not one of my friends? I knew lots of good looking boys. I knew all kinds of guys who were taller, better built, and even better looking in their way. Well, maybe not better looking. Casper was cute, he did have that. He wasn’t very big, however. He was small, and frail, and downright puny. There was something about him, however, something that drew me to him. Maybe looks didn’t matter or maybe I just liked his looks, even if they weren’t what everyone else thought of as good looking. I sure thought he was good looking. The mere sight of him drove me crazy.
I smiled, but the smile soon faded from my lips. Casper didn’t love me back. He didn’t feel the same about me. Looking at me didn’t drive him crazy. I was taller and way better built, but he wasn’t interested in me, or any guy. Why did I have to fall for a straight boy? I felt like I was cursed, but there was no helping it. I loved him and I couldn’t stop loving him.
I looked at him again and almost cried. Some people searched their entire lives for someone to love and never found them. My love was sitting right across the table from me, but he might as well have been a million miles away. Maybe it was better never finding someone, at least then you didn’t have to look at them and know you could never have them.