Exiled to Iowa. Send Help. And Couture

by Chris O'Guinn

  They harmonized well together.

  After a minute or two, I decided Billy was doing just fine. I left him in the care of Vince and Shawna and went to check on my costume team. Jackie and Franci and I had scoured every thrift store, costume shop and attic in the town of Buford in our quest for the best wardrobe. Given the tight budget we had to work with, it was quite a challenge.

  A dozen of my actors were trying things on, mixing and matching under Jackie’s keen eye. When something met her approval, Franci took over, taking measurements and making notes for the adjustments that would need doing. Fortunately, we had a host of moms at the ready to help us with alterations.

  Things were shaping up nicely.

  I headed to the other backstage area where the sets were being done. They were all built now and painting was in process. Austin himself was doing the detail work on all of the pieces. He was as uncompromising about the art as I was about couture. I found it adorable in addition to totally awesome.

  He was on a ladder, adding wrinkle-lines to the elephant façade. His handsome face was pinched with concentration as he stroked the brush over the surface. It looked amazing. Sure, we were having to scale way back on props and everything, but what we were doing looked awesome.

  “Are you sure that’s safe?” I asked mildly.

  Austin glanced down at me, smiling. “Is what safe?”

  “Being on a ladder like that. I thought we always had to have one person supporting the other when we got on ladders.” I stepped up and boldly cupped his butt in one hand. “Making sure you don’t fall.”

  Austin’s smile bloomed into a grin. “How thoughtless of me.”

  He and I were definitely becoming less discreet. It was fun, but we both knew we couldn’t let it get out of hand. There were too many people out there that were possessed of a dreadful combination of stupidity and violent impulses. During rehearsals we were relatively safe, but we still tried to keep our public displays of affection to a minimum.

  “It’s looking great, Austin.”

  “It’s not bad—considering this crappy paint you gave me.”

  I gave him petulant look. “Sorry, I’m on a budget. We could check the supply room. There might be something better in there.”

  It was our little code. We had, of course, already checked the supply room. All of our investigations since then had merely been a smoke screen to disguise some much-needed make-out time. It felt like if we went too long without kissing we would die, and neither of us really wanted to risk that. For our own safety, we were obligated to find time for some serious macking.

  Austin went with me, eyes sparkling as he closed the door behind us. “How long do you think it’s going to be before someone figures out what we’re doing?”

  “Who cares?” I returned and wrapped him in my arms.

  Though very reluctant, Insecurity was starting to give ground on the idea that Austin actually loved me. Oh, it was surly about the whole thing, but the evidence was mounting so high that Insecurity was having trouble making a case for anything else. He had seen me at my best and he had seen me at my most neurotic and he still wanted me.

  It seems that it’s always at those times, when you are on top of the world that life launches a SCUD missile at you.

  The door opened and we leaped apart, but there was no way to miss what we had been up to.

  Becca stared at the two of us in shock. Outrage shunted shock aside and blazed in her eyes as she registered what she had seen. I started to stammer some lame explanation, but all of my clever words failed me in that moment.

  “I didn’t believe it. I told Keith….” Becca fumed. “You really were just playing with me all that time.”

  I shook my head vehemently. “No, I wasn’t. I was stupid, Becca. I didn’t know you were interested in me. I thought we were just friends.”

  “I thought we were friends too,” she replied coldly. “Was it funny? Leading me on like that? Making me think I had a chance?”

  I winced. “Becca, please, let me explain.”

  “Go to hell,” she told me and stormed off.

  I ran after her. I didn’t want our friendship to end this way. I called after her but she just kept walking, refusing to give me a chance to grovel.

  “Please, Becca—”

  “Leave me alone you god damn faggot!”

  I stopped dead, going deathly pale. Everyone stopped to stare at us, taking in her outburst and what it meant. I blocked them out of my awareness, focusing entirely on Becca. She could not have hurt me more if she had pulled out a gun and shot me. Dimly, I remembered her dubious reaction to Jack and his boyfriend (whom I later learned is named Grant).

  “Just go to hell,” she snapped at me. Then she looked around at her audience. “I bet you all had a good laugh about this. Well, you can all go to hell too.”

  I did not stop her when she marched off that time. Her betrayal of me was too painful, too immense. I felt an icy cold grip my insides as our friendship shattered into a million pieces. I fought back tears as the word “faggot” in her voice echoed in my mind.

  Austin came up to me and laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. I almost broke, but I fought off the impulse to curl up against Austin and lose it. Crushed though I was, I did have some stubborn Irish pride that would not allow me to buckle. I shook off the agony of losing a good friend and looked around at the staring faces.

  “What? You can’t be surprised,” I told the ones who had not been at my birthday party to witness my coming out.

  There were some awkward smiles and then everyone got back to work. Lundquist nodded to me and then went back to running lines with a small number of the players. I turned to Austin and gave him a nervous frown.

  “Well, that’s done with.”

  Austin was looking at me like he was sure I was about to fall apart. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t think it would go down like that.”

  “You can’t win them all, you know? And you have to break some eggs and every bunch of apples will have a bad one and things like that,” I told him. “The show must go on.”

  To that end, I threw myself at Shawna’s feet and begged her to take Satine. I told her I would do anything to help her make it work. Because she is the most awesome person in the world—and because I think she felt sorry for me—she agreed. She already knew the songs and most of the dialogue, so it wouldn’t be too big of a burden.

  “We open in three weeks, people!” I told them all when we broke for the day. “And we’re going to be awesome.”

  * * *

  The next day was Halloween, and it was strangely appropriate since that was the day that everything went completely to hell.

  As I walked through the halls, there was a very different feeling in the air. Some people were gazing at me with suspicion and others laughed when I passed them. I had achieved a comfortable status where I was either ignored or given pleasant greetings, so this behavior was definitely worthy of concern.

  It was when some wide-eyed girl with braces stepped up to me and shoved a pamphlet at me that I figured it out.

  “Accept the Lord as your savior and let him rescue you from the fires of Hell,” she told me fervently.

  “Uh, I like it warm,” I told her distractedly, refusing to take the pamphlet.

  My secret had evidently been spread across the whole school. Panic grew up into a big strong lad named Terror in about a millisecond. All of the people who really didn’t need to know I was gay now knew anyway. My comfortable anonymity had been ripped away and now I was a target for all the jokes, all the comments and—I was sure—all the punches that I had managed to avoid to that point.

  It could not have been Becca, I decided immediately. Hurt as she was, I couldn’t imagine her telling the whole school about me out of spite. That left one of the people in the Drama club. I had my very own Brutus, and that knife between my shoulders really hurt. I couldn’t even guess who had done it. From the rate that word had spread, I couldn’t even rule out the pos
sibility that it had been several of them.

  My day started awful and then quickly raced downhill.

  “Hey, fag, so whose girlfriend are you, anyway?”

  “Look at the fairy! Hey, fairy, where’s your wings?”

  Those were the least crude things I heard. Jocks who had left me alone because my brother was one of their number now shouldered me into lockers. Cheerleaders who had sometimes traded gossip with me now laughed outrageously when they saw me. Everywhere I turned, everywhere I went, I got hassled. It was a nightmare.

  Bad as it was, what I truly dreaded was lunch. Anyone who has ever been bullied knows that is the favorite time for an attack. It affords the largest audience while giving a thug a maximum amount of time to torture his victim before an adult shows up.

  I was trying to get to some table in a dark corner where I could hide when something smacked into me. It was a cup of pudding, and it spattered chocolate goo all over my chest. I winced but did not bother trying to find out who had launched the projectile. Shaking, terrified, I tried to walk faster, but another chocolaty missile of hate hit me. This time, the mess half spilled on the floor and, before I could stop myself, my foot landed in it and slid out from under me.

  The lunch room filled with raucous laughter as I fell in a heap. My lunch added itself to the mess coating me. I could feel tears of humiliation burning at the corners of my eyes. My flight or flight-really-fast instincts told me that option B was the only way to go. I scrambled about in a panic, trying to get up, trying to get away.

  “Little faggy fall down?”

  I looked up and a cold knot twisted inside me. It was Derek and he was looking triumphant at my fall from grace. He had a drink cup in his hand, and I knew what was coming. He did surprise me, though, by spitting on me first.

  There is nothing that makes you feel lower than being spit on. You can’t even imagine how degrading it is until you’ve experienced it. I had only had it happen a few times, but each time it had made me feel like the filthiest, lowest creature on the planet.

  Derek raised the soda and I just braced myself to be doused. If he had his fun, then I could probably make a break for it. If I tried to run, he would just follow with his goon squad and it would inevitably get so much worse.

  Astonishingly, the carbonated venom did not fall. I blinked in shock as Billy appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Derek’s wrist. Billy did not bother with threats or clever comments; he just played to his strengths. Roughly, he wrenched Derek’s arm so the soda spilled over the bully instead. Then he shoved Derek several feet away.

  Keith and Austin were there in the next instant, helping me up. I blinked away tears and looked around in shock. Shawna, Jackie and Franci were shielding me with their bodies. More of the club members were rushing over now too, surrounding me, protecting me. All the people I had suspected were now rushing to my defense in a stunning display of solidarity.

  Derek started to get up, but then Nick was there, arms folded. “Leave him alone,” he told the bully.

  I could hardly believe what I was seeing.

  “What, are you his boyfriend? One of his faggy drama queers?”

  Nick shook his head. “No. But if it comes down to having to choose between the guys picking on some kid who never hurt anyone or being one of the people protecting him, I know what side I belong on.”

  I could barely keep from sobbing, but I found some well of strength deep inside me. I was not going to give this pack of jackals that satisfaction. My friends ushered me out of the lunch room like an honor guard. Boos and cat-calls from the rest of the students followed us. They hadn’t gotten their blood and they were disappointed.

  Outside the lunch room, I started to shake violently. It was all falling apart. Everything I had built was crumbling around me.

  “I need … my car… I have an extra shirt … try to be prepared....”

  My friends were looking at me in shock and something far too close to pity. I angrily fought back tears, refusing to show weakness. I would not be beaten. Not by them, these cretins who knew nothing about me. I absolutely wouldn’t have it.

  “You’re going home,” Shawna told me.

  “No, I—”

  “You’re going home,” Jackie echoed.

  “I’ll take him,” Austin murmured gently.

  I was too shell-shocked to offer any fight as Austin led me out of the school. I could not seem to stop trembling, no matter how hard I struggled with myself. I couldn’t get the feeling of all their loathing, of implacable hatred off of me. It clung to me worse than the flecks of pudding and bits of gravy.

  “Well, this shirt’s ruined,” I told him with a quavering laugh. “Was one of my favorites, too.”

  Austin made no comment as he opened the passenger door of his car. I shook my head and reached for my own keys. “I don’t want to leave my baby here,” I objected.

  “Collin—”

  “No!” I snapped. “I’m not leaving it here.”

  “We’ll get it later.”

  “I’m not leaving it!” I said hysterically. “These bastards will trash it!” My shaking grew even more pronounced.

  “Collin, baby….” Austin was trying to soothe me, but I barely heard him.

  “I can drive, I can … I can ... I….”

  The world got blurry as burning tears escaped their confines. The dams all burst and I dissolved into wracking sobs. I was deeply ashamed of myself for losing it, but my willpower was exhausted. Austin wrapped me in his arms and held me, murmuring soothing words to me and telling me over and over again that he loved me.

  The storm raged for a while before I managed to get myself back under control. “I’m making a mess of you.”

  “I can handle it.”

  I rubbed my eyes irritably and gave him a grateful look. That was when I noticed the angry bruise on his face. I reached out to touch it, enraged that anyone would mar his sweet, perfect face.

  “You … too…?”

  Austin nodded curtly and put me in his car. “Come on, we need to get you home.”

  As we drove off, I struggled with an uncomfortable realization. Only my inner circle knew that Austin was my boyfriend, and they would not have been responsible for outing me. The other Drama club people could not have told people about us. Nick had rushed to my defense, which took him off the list of suspects.

  That left only Becca, which was a nauseating thought. My feelings of betrayal deepened as I came to grips with the fact that she had not just told people, she had told everyone she could find. It was an act of vengeance that told me beyond any doubt that our friendship was over.

  “Who hit you?” I asked in a subdued tone.

  “It doesn’t matter. They won’t do it again,” Austin told me with finality.

  I looked out the window, beyond miserable. “I’m so sorry, Austin. It’s all my fault. This whole stupid mess, you getting hit.... You were just starting to have people like you again—”

  “Collin,” he interrupted firmly. “This is not your fault. This is the fault of those homophobic jackasses. Don’t you dare feel guilty.”

  I sniffled miserably. “Why is the world like this?”

  It was a while before he answered. “I don’t know, baby. I really don’t. All I know is that all I care about is having you in my life. The world can go screw itself if they don’t like it.”

  We made it to my house and found no one at home. Tenderly and gently, Austin got me to the bathroom and got me undressed. Vanity had nothing to say on the matter, having fled with such things as my sense of security, my faith in the fairness of life and my sense of self-worth. He took me into the shower and held me under the steamy spray, offering me all the strength, love and comfort he had to give until once again, at last, I felt safe.

  It was not what I had imagined as my first time with a boy being, but then, life has a way of throwing your fantasies into a blender. Desperately, needing to have something good and real and positive, I took him to my room and did
several of the things I had been longing to do with him. It was an act of defiance as much as it was one of love. If the world wanted to condemn me for being gay, then I was at least going to get the good parts too.

  Afterwards, we curled up in my bed and napped. It was not, of course, the best plan I might have ever come up with. My parents were well on their way to being nominated for sainthood, but even their tremendous forgiveness would be tested at finding I had ditched school to come home and get naked with Austin. After the day I had been through, however, my judgment had simply broken down.

  The embarrassment of being caught by my parents was superseded by the arguably-worse scenario of having Shawn burst into my room. Startled from my doze, I sat bolt upright and looked over at Shawn.

  My sleep-addled mind struggled to figure out why he was looking like he wished he had a shotgun. Gradually, however, the pieces fell into place. Austin sat up next to me and I was uncomfortably aware how very naked we were.

  I stammered stupidly, unable to convey my outrage at his barging into my room uninvited, a lame explanation for what he was seeing and my sincere desire he not kill Austin all at the same time.

  Before I could arrange all of the words I needed to say into some cohesive sentence, though, Shawn asked me, “Are you okay?”

  Of all the many things he might have said at that moment, that would not have been my first guess for the one he picked. “Huh?”

  “I heard what happened at school,” he told me. “I couldn’t find you, so I ran home. I heard some jerks jumped you at lunch.”

  It had been so long since he had leaped to my defense, I had forgotten just how heroic he could really be. “I’m okay now. Austin brought me home.”

  I refused to justify it any further. I was not going to make excuses about being in love with such a wonderful guy because I saw nothing wrong with it. I’d had enough homophobia for one day, thank you very much.

  Again, though, Shawn surprised me. “Thank you,” he said to Austin.

  My boyfriend colored a little. “I think this is where I make a very awkward exit.”

  “No,” Shawn told him. He was clearly fighting a pitched battle within himself on my behalf. “I’d like to talk to Collin alone for a minute, but then … you should come back.”