by Jetta
I think I�m in biology.
But who knows, I could be in physics.
No, I�m in biology. Because Julie is sitting on my left, hastily scribbling out notes for both of us. We�re sitting in the back. Charlie is two rows in front of us and I can�t stop staring at the back of his head. What is he thinking? Does he hate me?
I want to cry, ball my eyes out and scream and kick. But I can�t for two reasons. 1) I�m 18, and in class. 2) My friends will not only know I�m gay, but that I�ve lost my mind.
I saw Guy in the hall. He�s sporting a black eye. I don�t know who gave it to him, but I wished it had been me. But maybe I�ll still get my chance.
There goes the bell and Julie is tugging on my sleeve to get up. I stand, my legs a little like jelly as I see Charlie turn around and begin to walk towards me.
�Can I have a word?� he asks me and Julie gives me a reassuring pat on the arm before walking out the door. Soon, we�re alone. �Is this all true?� he asks me slowly.
I nod. �Yeah, it is.�
He looks away from me. �I � I don�t know what to say.�
�You don�t have to say anything,� I tell him softly.
He looks at me, hard in the eyes and I�ve never seen that look before. It�s a look of complete confusion. �I don�t even know who you are anymore.�
With that, he turns from me and walks out of the room.
My bottom lip quivers and I try to control it. I just lost my best friend.
**
It�s Friday and we have a game.
This past week has been hell on wheels. The only Ducks talking to me are Fulton, Julie, Portman and Kenny. The rest avoid me like the plague. But I guess I can�t complain, at least I know who my real friends are.
�Banks! Pick it up!� Coach Orion is yelling at me from the bench.
I sigh and skate harder, attempting to get the puck away from a Mt Vernon player. I succeed, only to be slammed into the board by Luis. My own teammate is against me. It seems gay people can�t be hockey players.
The whistle is blown and Orion benchs Luis, and Charlie replaces him. It�s the hardest of all to look at Charlie. Because in his eyes, I see the disappointment and embarrassment, and it hurts me more than I could ever admit.
We win the game, 12-4. I suppose I should be happy, but it�s hard. I avoid spending time in the locker room if I can help it. I can�t stand the stares and the whispers.
It�s funny, I thought I�d be friends with the Ducks forever. I thought we�d all grow old together, have each other in our lives. Have our kids growing up calling them Uncle or Aunt. And now�I don�t know. For once, I can�t see where I�m gonna be in 10 years. I always thought the Ducks would be there, and now, it�s a void.
I slouch lower in my windbreaker as I walk across the quad.
A heavy hand lands on my shoulder.
It�s four big guys I�ve never seen before.
�You Banks?�
I nodded. And for my efforts, I�m greeted with a devastating right hook that practically knocks every tooth out of my mouth.
I stumbled backwards, dropping my hockey bag and hitting the grass with a thump.
And then the attack begins. I was kicked, punched, spat on.
�This is for being a fucking gay pansy,� one of my attackers growled.
�HEY!�
All at once the guys take off, running like it was an Olympic trial, and then, Fulton�s face appears.
�Fulton?� I croaked. I can barely see him, my eye is so swollen. But he�s there.
�It�s ok,� he told me, gently picking me up off the grass.
�What?� I muttered, my head spinning as I was lifted upright.
�Shh�It�s ok Adam,� he said softly as we began walking towards the dorm. �I�m so, so sorry.�
I listened to his whispered words as we walked into his dorm room and he sat me down on his bed.
�What the fu � ?� Charlie muttered as he saw me. �What happened?�
�Some assholes were beating him up in the quad,� Fulton answered.
I started to sway a little and fell backwards onto Charlie�s bed, my eyes closing.
�No, you gotta wake up. Adam!� Fulton called, shaking my gently.
I opened my eyes and looked up at him. �I�m sorry.�
He shook his head and smiled. �What are you apologising for?�
I shrugged.
He smiled. �Good. Shut up then.�
Fulton busied himself cleaning me up, but I barely felt anything but searing pain. Then gave me two of his extra-strong painkillers and I fell asleep nearly instantly.
It�s funny how it took a beating to realise that I wasn�t completely alone.
**
�Where am I?� I asked groggily as I sat up, my whole body sore.
�My room,� Charlie said, looking over from where he was sitting at his desk.
�Was I ran over by a truck, buy any chance?� I asked him, stretching my body.
He shook his head. �You were beat up, but it doesn�t look as bad as it probably feels.�
I got up and went into the bathroom. Charlie was right. I had a black eye and three cuts. One above my eyebrow and two on my lip. My arms were bruised, as was my chest. But I wasn�t dead. I still couldn�t decide if that was a good or bad thing.
I went back into the room. �Thanks.�
Charlie shrugged. �It was Fulton, not me.�
I nodded slowly. Obviously there was still something bothering him.
�I should go,� I told him.
He nodded. �Fulton wanted me to give you this, he had an early class.�
He handed me a piece of paper and I didn�t read it, just shoved it into my pocket and collected my jacket.
�I�ll see you later, Charlie.�
He barely looked at me and just turned his attention to his TV.
I walked back to my room slowly, hanging my head in embarrassment. This was not how everything should be going.
�What the fuck happened to you?� Guy demanded as I shut the door behind me.
�Got beat up,� I said simply, taking off my jacket and fishing the piece of paper from my pocket. On it read, in Fulton�s sloppy handwriting: Intervention. Meet at Student Lounge Hartley Hall, 2:00pm.
�Ouch,� Guy commented. I didn�t care. He didn�t matter anymore.
I lay down on my bed, setting my alarm clock for 1:30. And then fell into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.
**
I hate alarm clocks.
I can�t think of even one instance where I�ve woken up to the incessant buzzing and actually didn�t feel like throwing the bastard against the wall.
Today wasn�t any different, maybe because it was like the ringing of the bells. It symbolised my interrogation planned with the Ducks.
I didn�t really care anymore, through all the crap that had happened, there wasn�t much of a reason to look good, or to do well. I just threw on old jeans and a sweatshirt off my floor and stumbled out the door, headed for the lounge.
Every Duck was sitting there sombrely when I entered the room, taking a seat nearest the door, for a possibly quick getaway.
We sat there for a few minutes in uncomfortable silence, looking from one another, wondering what to do or say.
It was Fulton who finally got up the urge to stand up.
�Ok, thanks for coming,� he said simply.
I knew by the inquisitive stares on their faces they wanted to know what happened to me. Why I looked like a bruised piece of fruit.
�I was beat up, ok?� I spat at them, hanging my head, my greasy, unwashed hair hanging unceremoniously hanging in my face.
No one said a word.
�Look,� Fulton began again, walking around the small space. �All this crap going on between us is stupid. I mean, we�re all friends and here we are, judging Banks like this.�
Portman nodded and stood up, clapping Fulton on the back.
�If you all think you deserve some kind of a medal for being here, then I feel sorry for you,� he said softly. �Because this guy over here �� he pointed to me. �Did nothing to you, and you all betrayed him.�
Dwayne coughed.
�I just wanna say that I support Banks. And it would nice if one of you could say it too. But, if it�s above you, then don�t bother talking to me either. Because, I�m gay too.�
Dwayne�s cough turned into a choking sound and eyes went wide.
I looked up at Portman and searched his eyes imploringly.
He avoided my gaze and left the room, Fulton following him close behind. It was just me against the masses. I didn�t know what to say to them, or even if I should say anything, but the silence was killing me.
I stood up.
�Look, I know this has all gotta be a bit weird, but it�s not as though I�m doing this to freak you guys out. We�ve all been best friends for what seems like forever, and I�d hate to see us throw it all away over my sexuality.�
I looked over at them, my eyes searching their eyes, looking for a glimmer of understanding or acceptance.
Goldberg stood up. �Banks, I don�t know what to say�I�m sorry for the way I�ve been treating you�you can�t help who you love, right?�
I blushed furiously when he said that. I could feel Charlie�s eyes boring into mine.
�Thanks Goldie,� I said softly. �I guess I�m just gonna go now��
No one stopped me as I strode from the room, my eyes downcast. I didn�t know what to think, or to do, or just�anything. I just wanted to crawl into my bed and die. Because without my friends, who was I?
I didn�t have much time to ponder the mysteries of my life; I had hockey practice in 20 minutes. I gathered up my gear and trudged over to the rink, thoughts rumbling through my head like thunder in the sky.
I got dressed silently, not surprised that Portman was absent. The Ducks didn�t say a word to each other as we filed out and onto the ice, scattering like marbles.
�What�s up with you guys?� Coach Orion queried as we all began to skate around, not making eye contact.
�Exams,� Connie responded, hitting a puck over to Goldberg.
�Yeah,� Averman agreed. �Lot of pressure being the graduating class��
Orion set us with a steely gaze. �Ok, don�t tell me, but get your heads together.�
We murmured our cooperation and started practice, our scrimmage a few notches below what it usually was. But Orion didn�t say anything else, other than yelling of course. No heart to hearts, or pep talks. And I was glad, the last thing I wanted was a father-figure telling me to do better.
After practice I slipped my helmet off and headed for the locker room.
�Christ, what happened to you, Banks?�
I looked up at Coach Orion. �Uh, nothing,� I said. �Just had a losing war with a staircase.�
He nodded slowly, and I knew he didn�t believe me, but I didn�t care. I didn�t care about anything anymore.
