I fumed for the rest of the classes during the day, glaring heatedly off into space and stabbing my pen into the desk. A teacher who had overheard our argument (and how could you have not heard it?) gave me a detention for yelling icky words in public, and I was so furious I didn�t even care.

Everyone and their grandmother knew about the infamous argument by last period. People I didn�t even know gave me thumbs-up in the hallway, and Marguerite told me repeatedly that I was her hero. Apparently Marisa had a lot of latent enemies who rejoiced at seeing her publicly bashed. Her allies, however, shot me death-glares and upturned middle fingers. I wasn�t particularly worried about a bunch of spitting girls, for they can�t chase me very far in that thong underwear. The football team, however, was another story. (The football team hated the soccer team anyway, because they sucked and we were undefeated, so being the center forward for Varsity didn�t help my situation any.)

But what everyone else thought of Marisa, our fight, and me didn�t concern me. I only had one person in mind, and I was nervous about approaching him. For the entire scene had been about him, really. The whole hallway had heard her blatantly insult and ridicule him.

I couldn�t fully enjoy my afternoon of glory, for I worried about Roger.

Apprehensively, I sought him out after school. He wasn�t in our usual meeting place out front, and I couldn�t blame him for not wanting to be where the entire school congregated for their buses and rides. His car was still in its assigned spot, however, so I knew he hadn�t left.

It took awhile to find him, for I was in no mood to speak to anyone and ask, and much less to bring up his name. I finally found him hiding in one of the back corners of the school, leaning in the shade against the brick wall with his arms crossed on his knees, and his head in his arms.

Slowly, I stepped across the grass and sat down next to him. He didn�t look at me, but I could tell he knew who I was.

He didn�t say anything, and I wasn�t sure what to say to him. How much did he know?

I opted for a neutral, �Hey.�

�I�m so stupid,� he replied after a moment, his voice heavy and muffled through his arms. �I�m so friggin� stupid.�

He raised his face out of his arms, but still didn�t meet my eyes. �She dumped me. She and her posse came over to me after English. She told me I was a loser and that she didn�t like me, and she dumped me.�

�I�m so sorry, man,� I said softly.

�I can�t believe I was so stupid. I mean, I thought she liked me for me. She said she did, and I believed her. She was always so nice to me, so affectionate. Wasn�t she? You saw it, didn�t you?�

He met my eyes, but I didn�t agree. He turned away again.

�So you knew, then?� he said miserably.

�Not the whole time. Just�lately. I saw her at the mall with that quarterback�the blonde one, curly hair?�

�Derek Damascus,� he supplied sharply, and it was obviously a name he wouldn�t forget soon.

�She was cheating on you with him, I think.�

He breathed out deeply. �Yeah, she usually does go for the dumb jocks, doesn�t she? Captain of the soccer team, quarterback of the football team, what�s the difference?�

�Although,� he continued, his voice drier, �that�s not even why she went out with me. Her friends told me. Apparently the whole school knows that I get drunk at parties, and Marisa and her friends think it�s hysterical. Also, she heard I was easy�some crazy pimp or something. She just wanted to go out with a �party boy.��

His red eyes were narrowed now, angry. �They have no idea why I really drink�they have no idea! I�m not some horny bastard who gets wasted just to screw girls�I have more class than that! And I�m a fucking virgin, for God�s sake! I�ve never done anything like that! Who made up all this shit about me?�

He slammed his fist on his knee, again and again. �This whole school thinks I�m just some stupid drunk horny jock! They�ve all been making fun of me for years, and I never knew! My own girlfriend made fun of me behind my back�you should hear all the things I�ve been taunted with since lunch!� His fingers tightened around his kneecaps, the veins on his knuckles standing out. Tears were filling his eyes�he ducked his head, and when he raised it again with a gulp, they were on his cheek. I inched closer to him, my stomach in knots. I�d never seen him cry, and it cut through me as if it were my own pain.

�I hate being made fun of,� he gasped, and tears rolled down his cheek. �I can�t take it�I�m so scared of what people think of me�I just want them to accept me�I can�t take it��

�It�s okay, Roger,� I said, touching his shoulder and watching his face. �Everyone feels like that�especially me, believe me.�

He wiped his eyes, trying to compose himself.

�I just hate it, Arik, I-I have no skin for it at all. I try to act confident and all, but I�m really just a friggin� wimp, I�m so scared all the time��

�Don�t worry, I won�t let anyone make fun of you,� I vowed. �I promise.� And I meant that.

He breathed deeply. �Thank you. That-that means a lot to me.�

I squeezed his shoulder.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. �God, I can�t believe this,� he murmured. �This is one of the worst days of my life. And I�ve had a few doozies, believe me.�

�Hey, you wanna know something?� he continued, and I could tell he really needed to rant. �You know how me and Marisa were arguing at the party? That�s one of the reasons she dumped me.�

�What happened?� I asked.

He scowled. �She wanted me to sleep with her.��I gawked shamelessly��Yeah, she was set on it. Probably the first and last time a girl will ever beg me for sex. But I said no.�

�Why?� (Not that I was upset that he hadn�t, hell no!)

�Ugh, I dunno. I mean, I wanted to�Jesus Christ, just look at her!� of course I wanted to! But it just�didn�t feel right. She was really mad at me, calling me a fag and everything, because that�s all she wanted me for anyway, sex�but it just didn�t feel right. Like, I knew that I would regret it if I did. I think maybe deep down I knew that she was just using me.�

He snorted derisively. �Or maybe I really am just a faggot, like she said. Oh well, screw it. I guess there are worse things than being a faggot, right?�

And then he squeaked because I threw my arms around his middle and hugged him.

�What�s this for?� he asked, surprised.

�Because you�re so cool!� I buried my head in his shoulder. �I don�t care what everyone else thinks, I think you�re cool! I�m your best friend, I�m the one you�re supposed to listen to anyway!�

�Oh, Arik�!� he sniffled, tears in his eyes again but a half-grin on his face.

�And I�m glad you didn�t sleep with her. She�s probably full of horrible diseases, you know!� I said, and he laughed, tears spilling over his grinning cheeks.

�Oh, God,� he murmured. �But now she�s telling the whole school that I�m gay!�

�So, then, I�ll be your gay lover!� I shrieked, and I have NO idea what possessed me to say that.

Roger laugh-cried more, wrapping an arm around my neck and pushing me into his shoulder. �You�re my only friend, you know that?�

�Marisa said I was your bitch.�

�Oh, GOD!�

�I�m honored!�

He uncurled his arm from my neck. �Hey, when Marisa dumped me, she also said for me to tell you that if you ever so much as looked at her again, she�d make your life a living hell. And then I hear that you and her had some mega catfight in the hallway�?�

�You�d better believe we did,� I said. �It was awesome. I�ve never yelled at anyone like that in my life. I just got so mad seeing her cheat on you, though, that I totally lost it. I called her a whore and a prostitute in front of the entire hallway, and she slapped me.�

�I think I would have liked to have seen that,� Roger said. My face still pressed to his upper back, I felt him breathe in and out. �Thanks for sticking up for me, man. Maybe it�s good that we broke up. I just can�t be into a chick who wants my best friend dead.�

I grinned and kept my face pressed against him, eyes closed, feeling how warm and snuggly he was.

There was a momentary silence, and then Roger lightly asked, �Erm, no offense, but how long are you going to stay like that?�

�I�m going to hug you until you feel better,� I replied.

�Oh, wonderful.�

�Well, what else can I do to make you feel better?�

He thought for a moment, and then replied, with a childlike grin, �Buy me some ice cream. Cookie dough. With sprinkles.�

I pulled away from him. �Are you serious?�

�I am,� he said, wiping his eyes. �My family never goes to Friendly�s anymore. I miss ice cream.�

�Let�s go, then. You�ll have to drive, but I�ll pay,� I offered, standing up and offering my hand to him. He smiled, and I pulled him to his feet.

�Do I look�you know, like, are my eyes red?� he asked.

I shook my head, and we started around the building towards the parking lot. We�d been sitting out back for a while, so most of the kids had been picked up, leaving only clumps of stragglers and athletes wandering around.

A sudden sharp elbow to the back knocked me forward, and I heard a familiar voice say, �Hey, look it�s O�Donnell�s bitch, the homo!�

And then Roger spun around and decked Derek Damascus square in the face. He yelped and fell back into a row of football players in practice jerseys, blood spurting from his nose.

�You bastard!� a linebacker hollered.

Roger grabbed my arm and yelled, �To the Batmobile, Robin!� and we leapt into his car and drove off as fast as we could, raised middle fingers waving at the cursing football team behind us.

At Friendly�s, I bought Roger his cookie dough ice cream with sprinkles�and gummy bears, too�and I got a vanilla sundae for myself. We sat down in a booth toward the back and dug in. Roger had seemed to be in a better mood, but as we ate his eyes went sad again, and he stared listlessly out the window.

�She really was a bitch and a whore, wasn�t she?� he murmured.

I wasn�t sure how to answer that, so I licked some chocolate off my spoon and shrugged.

�I thought she was so cool for years. She always seemed so confident, you know? I liked that, and it made me feel better about myself to be around someone like that. When she agreed to go out with me, I couldn�t believe someone so cool would be into me. And she never once said anything nasty to me, except when we had that argument. She just lied to my face and talked behind my back, I guess.�

�It�s not your fault,� I said. �Any guy would have fallen into her trap.�

�I was so mad at her for toying with me like that that I was going to write her number on the wall of the boys� bathroom. But you know what? It�s already there�twice.�

�Yeah, I noticed that. Like I said, man, she�s probably got every STD in the book,� I said, smirking over my sundae glass.

�Yeah,� he agreed, elbow on the table, cheek in hand, his eyes on the parking lot. �My parents would have killed me if they found out, anyway. You know my mom, how religious she is. And if Marisa got pregnant�oyy. My dad would have me castrated.�

I cringed. �A mini-Marisa let loose on the world, now that�s a scary thought.�

�Eh, knowing her, she�d just kill it anyway,� he said.

�Oh, an abortion, you mean?�

�Mm.�

�What would you want her to do?�

He shrugged. �Probably put the kid up for adoption if she kept it. Neither one of us would be able to take care of it.�

�Hmm, right,� I agreed. �After all� Isn�t that kind of what happened to you? And you worked out fine, right?�

His eyes distant, he replied softly, �Sometimes I wish my mother had aborted me.�

�You don�t mean that, Roger.�

He didn�t reply. His eyes stared, unfocused, out the window, looking so sad.

After a while he moved, grunting softly, as if he�d been staring out the window for all his life, and pulled a paper from his pocket. He set it on the table, unfolded its multitude of creases, and pushed it across the table towards me.

�What�s this?� I asked, picking it up.

�An invitation to a party I was given,� he explained gloomily. �One of my college friends is throwing it at her place, Saturday. I know you don�t like parties much, but would you mind coming with me to this one, please? I hate going alone�and I never have fun without you anyway.�

I screwed up my mouth, having a bad feeling about this instantly.

�I really don�t want to dwell on Marisa all weekend. Some of the guys from the team are going, too. So, please, will you go with me?�

�Of course I will,� I agreed against my better judgment, and I handed the invitation back to him.

Chapter Sixteen...