Page 11 of Save Me

For a second, I’m stunned. I watch in horror as Joshua’s shoulders shrink in on themselves, and he mutters an apology.

I’m stuck there, feeling like last night all over again, and then I’m angry. Bone-deep anger that feels like it explodes out of every muscle, and in a voice that sounds a lot meaner than mine, I say, “What did you just say, fudgestain?”

There’s a pause, and the upperclassman turns to look at me. “The fuck did you just call me?”

“You heard me, you dead-from-the-neck-up git.”

The guy’s face gets red, and it only makes me grin. “What, too stupid to understand me?”

“Speak English, asshole.”

“Ironically, I am.”

That’s when he swings on me. I see it coming and smile the entire time, even when his fist smashes into my cheek, snapping my head back. The explosion of pain is exhilarating, making my ear ring.

I gasp out a breath, then laugh. “Mad as a box of frogs aren’t you? ‘Bout as useful as one too.”

This time, when he comes at me, I duck. I don’t know much about fighting. I’ve never needed to. But now I’m mad, more mad than I’ve ever been. Because how dare he? How dare he? Being gay is such a non-issue.

Then we’re tussling. I get hit in the back and the stomach, and I take the opportunity to punch his nuts, then reach up and twist his nipples. I’m not sure why I’m smiling, ‘cause I’m so mad I can’t see straight, but I am. Right when I get the wind knocked out of me, someone else joins the fight. I brace, covering my head, but the blur goes after the turd instead. Thick strikes against flesh sound, and he lets out a few cries.

Then there are teachers who are yelling and pulling us apart. I’m still smiling, breathing heavily when I see who stepped in for me: Tyler Clark, my only other friend, a girl with shaved blonde hair. She’s grinning too, only hers looks like she’s actually happy. Knowing Tyler, she probably is.

She glances up at me, throwing me a wink. Then, we’re whisked away.

I get in trouble, we all do, although Tyler the least. When I see Tyler in detention after school, she doesn’t ask why I was fighting. I mean, we aren’t supposed to talk, but still. She just smiles at anyone who looks at us, biting at the air like a shark.

Finally, when I don't think anyone will overhear, I lean over and whisper, “He called Joshua a…” I don’t want to say the word because of the look on his face, and…it’s just wrong.

Tyler shakes her head at me and waves me off. Like she doesn’t care. She probably doesn’t; she just likes to fight.

I sigh, sitting back. This is my first time in detention.

Then, my phone buzzes. I pull it out, looking down, and my heart leaps in my chest. It’s Joshua.

Joshua: I can’t do this. I can’t be known like this, I’m sorry.

Joshua: Plz don’t talk to me anymore.

And like that, my world shatters. What? What does he mean he can’t do this?

Suddenly, it feels like the walls are closing in on me. How? How could he give up on me when I have so much love to give him? Why?

Then I remember how Dad looked at me, and my whole body locks up. It was like he hated me. Why? Is being gay so bad?

I drop my head in my hands, my chest feeling like it’s cracking open.

I must be a bad kid. A bad person.

Maybe the fight was bad enough to send me to the hospital. Maybe if I went, Dad would visit me there. He would be nice to me.

For a second, I’m caught up in the idea of Dad looking at me in my hospital bed with love, with tears streaming down his face, and apologizing for all he did.

I wish I had gotten hurt more. Wish he had broken my arm.

I milk that fantasy until the end of school, and neither of my parents calls the school back. I have to drive myself home with strict instructions for them to call.

Neither of them will.