Through Your Eyes

by Ali Merci

  “Papá?” he called, panic apparent in his voice, as his eyes darted between his parents. “Ma? What are you doing here?”

  “I called them of course,” the principal spoke for the first time since Asa had entered the room. “They need to be here.”

  Asa’s head snapped towards Principal Hendrickson. “No, they don’t!” Asa said through gritted teeth, wanting the ground to split open underneath his feet and swallow him whole until he was lost beneath the earth.

  The last thing he’d ever, ever wanted to do was have his parents called down to the school. The shame ate away at him in huge chunks, and he felt himself grow smaller and smaller with each bit that was taken away.

  “I don’t understand. What’s going on?” his mother asked quietly. Her forehead was creased with so much worry, and that hurt Asa more than anything else that had happened so far today.

  “Why don’t you take your seats, Mr. and Mrs. San Román?” Principal Hendrickson gestured towards the two vacant chairs on Asa’s right.

  His mother took the seat right next to Asa, slipping her hand into his while doing so, and the tight knot of worry in his gut came undone at the support she was giving him. The principal started with his agenda and went on, debriefing both Asa’s parents on what had transpired in the cafeteria until the other boys had managed to break up the fight in hopes that a figure of authority wouldn’t see them.

  It didn’t really work out that way, seeing as how Cromwell had marched into the canteen with a thundering voice, barking out commands that sent most of the students scrambling away. Of course she hadn’t kept her mouth shut, making snide comments at Asa that made him want to punch her too.

  He’d stormed towards the principal’s office, not waiting for the stupid woman (who was supposed to be a just and fair disciplinarian) to lead the way. He’d also made it a point not to glance at the table where he knew a certain girl with midnight hair and thundercloud eyes sat.

  Something inside Asa hurt when he recalled the way they’d been lost in their own world, Carmen and he, when he’d kissed her on the cheek and everything had just felt so right.

  And now they couldn’t even meet each other’s eyes.

  It was as if Hunter always had a hold on the reins that controlled Asa’s emotions. And he, Asa, was growing beyond sick of it. He wanted to stop succumbing so easily to his rashness; he didn’t want to give himself over to that raging inferno inside him that Hunter always found a way to fuel. Asa knew he was and could be better than that.

  Asa needed to be better than that.

  “…your son did quite a number on the other kid,” Principal Hendrickson was saying when Asa tuned his ears back in. “So, I’m afraid to say this has taken a serious turn.”

  “He deserved it,” Asa muttered, shoulders squared and chin raised, not backing down.

  “Did he?” Hendrickson cocked a brow. “Want to tell me how you came to that conclusion?”

  Surprise flickered across Asa’s face but he quickly composed himself. In all honesty, he didn’t expect the principal to offer him a chance to explain. Cromwell never had.

  But maybe not all the figures of authority in this school were as biased as her. Maybe Asa would get to tell his side of the story after all.

  “He was making derogatory comments,” Asa said in a cautious tone, not knowing how else to phrase it.

  “Derogatory comments?”

  “Yes.”

  Principal Hendrickson sighed and leaned back in his chair, holding his chin and observing Asa with a slight frown on his face. “Care elaborating on that, Asa?”

  Asa blinked, his tongue not cooperating as it twisted into a knot and stopped the jumbled mess of words from falling past his lips. “Well…” he stopped speaking and clamped his mouth shut, because he didn’t know. He didn’t know. He didn’t know. And worst, he didn’t know what it was that he didn’t know.

  But Asa just didn’t know.

  He knew he was supposed to say something; to shed light on the reasoning behind his actions; to explain himself which was something not many people ever gave him the chance to do.

  “He was just saying stuff, you know…” Asa trailed off, the previous tough exterior slowly crumbling away at the edges until bits and pieces of it fell to the floor like ashes, revealing the boy underneath. His armour was cracking open, and Asa didn’t like the sudden rush of vulnerability that was seeping into his skin and leaving his bones cold.

  “Okay.” The principal nodded slowly. “What stuff?”

  Why was it so, so hard for Asa to just say it? What was that rock which had lodged itself in Asa’s vocal cords, not allowing him to let the words pass? This was supposed to be easy. He was supposed to explain himself, await whatever action the school thought was necessary and live with it.

  But he was Asa San Román, the popular heartthrob who had a killer smile and supposedly had the entire student body eating out of his hand. He was Asa San Román, the defending champion of the interstate swimming meet who supposedly had the world at his feet and nothing got to him. He was Asa San Román, the boy who got into notorious fights for defending the bullied and was supposedly never bullied himself. He was Asa San Román, a guy, and as per an unsaid rule, guys don’t get knocked down by words, but only with punches and kicks.

  Did admitting it to himself make him any less masculine? Did letting his parents and the principal know that he didn’t have it in him to take such discriminatory remarks make him weak? Pathetic? Less of a guy?

  Did it, really?

  “Asa?” his mother’s voice tugged him out of his stream of thoughts. “Mijo, want to tell us what happened? Please?”

  He closed his eyes, letting out a heavy breath, before he opened them back again and looked at the principal with defeat in his eyes. “He was giving me shit for being, well, me. He was saying that I didn’t belong here, not in this school or this city, because of where I come from—because of my birth place. And I lost my temper.”

  And maybe that was another step in the road to self-love and acceptance. Maybe it was acknowledging that not only standing up for all those who’d had their hamstrings severed and kneecaps bashed in with cruelty and hate who couldn’t stand for themselves was pretty good, but standing up for yourself mattered, too.

  Maybe it was having enough respect for your own soul and mind that you learn to admit to yourself that what was happening to you was a form of bullying too, and it didn’t matter how strong society deemed you were. You were allowed to say that it was hurting you.

  The air in the principal’s room was very still as both his parents stared at Asa in shock, obviously only hearing this now. Mr Hendrickson, too, seemed to be at a loss for words.

  “You’re not telling me that students of this school make racist comments?” the principal asked uncertainly, with the corners of his mouth twisted into a deep frown, his eyes looking truly troubled.

  “I think that’s exactly what my son said,” his dad snapped, apparently still reeling from the shock that Asa had never mentioned any of this before.

  “Papá,” Asa quickly said, trying to tell him through eye contact to remain calm and not snap at the principal.

  Principal Hendrickson ran a hand down his face, looking like he aged five years within the span of five minutes. “How long has this been going on for?”

  “For as long as I’ve been attending Reichenbach High,” Asa replied, shrugging. “It just…I guess it never occurred to me to say anything because it had just become part and parcel of school life.”

  “Oh, mijo,” his mother murmured, running her hand through his hair. The skin on her forehead was still creased, and her eyes were unfocused, lost in the thoughts that were undoubtedly swimming around in her mind.

  “How come the school does not know of such serious issues?” his father asked, jaw clenched and eyes hardened into slits. “They just turn a blind eye to bullying now?”

  “I wasn’t bullied,” Asa hastily said, averting his gaze from the three
adults and looking down at the floor instead. Shame crawled up his neck and left a trail of heat in its wake.

  He didn’t have to look up to know that all three pairs of eyes were on him; the sudden shift in the atmosphere and the sensation of holes being drilled into his skull were evidence enough.

  “You, silly boy.” His mother shook her head, sounding pained. “Always looking out for others but never yourself. Now you can’t even tell that it’s not okay for someone to say such things to you.”

  “I did defend myself,” Asa muttered, not looking up just yet. “That’s why Carson’s in the infirmary.”

  “There’s no point in punching the daylights out of someone if you can’t even admit to yourself that what was happening was a form of bullying, Asa,” Principal Hendrickson said slowly, as if his words were cautious footsteps on a road paved with eggshells.

  The silence dragged on, loud and restless, awaiting the arrival of Asa’s heart in all its raw and vulnerable glory. Because that was what Asa had to do, right? He needed to take down that armour he thought he was required to wear, and just let it all out.

  He had to let all that poison out, because the hate and anger he felt brewing in the core of his very being towards the people that wronged him would eventually consume him too. And he’d be damned before he let them take that away from him as well.

  “Why didn’t you come to us sooner?” his mother asked quietly, breaking the silence that weighed on all four of them like a thick, suffocating blanket.

  Asa still didn’t look up even then, shutting his eyes closed, as he tried to level his breathing. “Because boys don’t get bullied, Ma,” he finally said, the words leaving his mouth which caused his heart to hammer away in his chest, creating havoc in that small space inside his ribcage. “At least, not the popular ones.” He swallowed, feeling his Adam’s apple bob up and down his throat as he tried to remain nonchalant. Opening his eyes, he continued to drill holes into the tiled floors of the office, not having the energy to face any of them just yet. “Definitely not the star athletes who seem to have everything going for them.”

  “That is a load of crap,” Principal Hendrickson said. “I don’t understand why you students let yourselves be bound by shackles that exist in no other place but your heads. Tell me something, Asa, half that weight you place on your shoulders, is it even yours to carry?”

  Asa didn’t reply, but he dared to raise his head and meet the principal’s eyes, an ocean of emotions he couldn’t begin to distinguish from one another washing over him in huge waves.

  Principal Hendrickson sighed and leant forward, clasping his hands and placing them on the desk. “Anybody can be subjected to bullying, Asa, to pain, to peer pressure, regardless of gender, age or popularity. And you can’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

  “I think I’m starting to understand that now,” Asa mumbled, a faint smile gracing his face, but there were no traces of it in his eyes.

  “Is there action going to be taken?” his mother asked then, her dark eyes blazing. The worried state she’d been in was slowly dissipating as her fierce and protective instincts kicked in.

  “I would suspend Carson, considering this is a serious matter,” Hendrickson paused and Asa instantly knew things were only going to get worse, “But since Asa had taken matters into his own hand without coming to me or any other teacher in this school, I don’t think I will be able to do so. The boy’s injuries are pretty serious, and I think he’d have to take a few days leave from school too.”

  “It can’t be that bad,” Asa muttered, feeling a sense of déjà vu of when he’d said something similar to Wyatt just an hour or so ago.

  “You broke his nose,” Principal Hendrickson deadpanned, “and his eyes are beyond swollen. Let’s also not forget about the fractured ribs.”

  Asa’s eyes closed on their own accord, dread piercing his chest painfully as his breathing faltered. His hands tightened their grip on the chair he was seated on.

  “So what’s going to happen?” his father asked the question that Asa was too afraid to ask.

  Principal Hendrickson cleared his throat and pressed his lips together, looking deeply conflicted. “Carson’s parents threatened to press charges if appropriate action isn’t taken by the school.”

  All the breath seemed to get knocked out of Asa, and he felt his stomach immediately coil into a tight knot of dread. This couldn’t happen.

  It couldn’t. It couldn’t. It couldn’t.

  “But I didn’t know then that it wasn’t just some petty fight.” The principal rubbed his eyes. “I had no clue the issue was much bigger and serious than that. So I won’t suspend you like I had initially intended to, Asa.”

  Asa’s lungs came to life, and all his muscles loosened up, as the breath of immense relief left his body. He let go of the death grip he had on his chair and leaned back, running an exhausted hand down his face.

  “However, you’re no longer allowed to take part in this year’s interstate swimming meet.”

  Everything seemed to freeze around Asa.

  His heart froze. The beginning of the relieved smile on his face froze before it could fully bloom. The hand he was running through his hair froze.

  The world froze but time was still slipping by, not waiting for him to catch up.

  “Wait wait wait.” He shot out of his seat, hands shaking by his sides as he stared at the principal with utter disbelief. “You can’t do that! You can’t—that’s not—I did nothing wrong! I did nothing wrong—”

  “Asa!” his mother thundered, grabbing his arm and pulling him back, but he just shook it off, not looking away from Hendrickson.

  “You can’t take that away from me!” Asa shook his head vigorously, not wanting to listen to anything else anymore. They couldn’t do this to him. They couldn’t.

  “Okay.” the principal nodded. “All right, fine. I won’t take this away from you. Maybe you’d like doing community service better. You know, when the Williams go ahead and press those charges against you. Maybe you’d prefer being on probation? Or is it that you’re actually okay with having some sort of record staining your credibility when you apply for colleges and jobs?”

  “I don’t deserve this.” Asa’s voice shook with barely restrained anger.

  “But Carson deserved to be sent to the infirmary?”

  “I told you what he did!”

  “And you think his parents are going to care about what their son did?” Hendrickson raised his eyebrows. “All they care about is their son’s swollen face and bruising body and making the person responsible pay. If they take this to any other authority outside of this school, I won’t be able to help. This is the only way I know to minimise the consequences. You need to understand that.”

  Asa couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This wasn’t happening, was it? This was his senior year. It was his last year at high school. His last ever chance to take part in this meet. He was supposed to set new records this year, achieve new milestones. He was supposed to win that championship title one last time.

  “This was the first time I ever took a stand for myself,” Asa said quietly, a faint tremble in his voice. “This was the first time in all my years of being put down that I fought back.”

  And it was true. All his fights with Hunter in the past had never been for himself. It had always been Asa sticking up for some other student who was being bothered. But never for himself. Never for Asa.

  Today in the cafeteria though, something had finally snapped. And now here he was, paying for letting himself drown in the poison he’d allowed others pour into his veins which was eventually carried into his heart.

  “You don’t fight hate with hate, Asa,” Hendrickson said. “Punches and blows don’t solve anything. You think Carson and the other narrow-minded students like him are going to walk into school with changed mentalities? You think that fight will inspire them to have a sudden change of heart and that this city’s going to become more receptive all of a sudden?”
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  Asa didn’t say anything. He wanted to set this world on fire right now. He wanted everyone to choke on all the hate that infested this place.

  “Look,” Principal Hendrickson sighed and rose out of his seat, “I went through your career initiative files from last semester.” He was referring to a programme their school had held during the last few months of Junior year, where the students who wanted career guidance were given tips and suggestions on which colleges to apply in order to get the best coaching in the field they wanted to major in. “And I noticed that you didn’t want to pursue swimming professionally. So this could’ve actually been much worse, you know. You’re not losing anything on a large scale by not participating in the meet this year.”

  But Asa felt like he’d already lost a part of himself.

  “I think I’d like to go home for the rest of the day,” He swallowed, picking up his bag from the chair he’d been sitting on.

  “Sure, no problem,” Hendrickson said kindly. “I really am sorry, Asa. But all this could’ve been avoided if you’d just come to me. Or even gone to your parents.”

  Asa didn’t respond. He didn’t even wait for his parents, as he threw open the door and stormed down the hallway, exiting the school and finding himself in the sanctuary of his truck minutes later.

  But even while he drove down the streets that were scattered with autumn leaves, he found himself wishing the passenger seat wasn’t as vacant and empty as Asa’s heart right then.

  37.

  Isla Martin

  Isla was worried when she couldn’t spot Asa anywhere for the rest of the day.

  She didn’t want to be worried, but then again, lately she was feeling a lot of things she didn’t want to feel.

  The news about the fight had spread like wildfire, considering it occurred in the canteen in front of a very large audience. Isla had shrugged it off, aware of Asa’s tendency to give in to his rash nature and let his fists speak for him, but when he hadn’t turned up to History class, she knew something was off.