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“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’d say nothing.” He looks down at himself. “What do you think, though? You’ve seen a lot of dicks, right?” His mouth does something that’s a cross between a cruel smile and smirk.
“Fuck you, Ezra.”
“You been wanting to?” He smiles, but it looks like it hurts. His whole face is tight with what must be a killer headache.
“You look like you feel like shit.”
“I don’t.”
“You’re being stupid,” I say.
He steps into the shower, angling his hips away from me as he does. When he’s in there, his low voice says, “You sound like a guy who wants to be outed.”
“You sound like you’re scared of going. Do you have a phobia or something?”
“Only of you sliding into my bed at night.”
“Don’t be a homophobe, fuckface. It’s not a good look.”
“I’m not afraid of all the homos. Just the ones that come into the bathroom when I’m naked.”
“Yeah, I came in here to see you naked.” I roll my eyes.
“Did I pass your boner test?”
“You’re such a dick.” I can’t suppress an amazed laugh.
“Why don’t you go draw it now? Do they know you’re gay at church?”
My stomach flips at that thought. “If you tell them, you’ll fucking regret it.”
“Oh look, the twinky little cello boy is making threats now.”
I’m not going to take this shit from him, so I step out and shut the door just hard enough to let him know he can fuck off without alerting my mom.
I’m so pissed, it takes almost an hour for me to realize he got exactly what he wanted. I left Ezra alone. I knock on his bedroom door again, out of nothing but a sense of obligation.
“Not dead yet. Sorry,” he calls from the other side of the door.
He’s so hostile. And so fucking volatile. I wonder what the hell is wrong with him.
Twelve
Ezra
August 5, 2017
My very own journal. Wowzers, I’ve always wanted one of these! You can call me Mark Twain, baby.
Yeah…no one is reading this shit. I don’t care what Paul the supreme ruler of the fuck-up empire told us. I’m going to guard it with my life, and at the end of my time here, I’m going to burn it.
I’m at Alton, if you can’t tell. Whoever YOU are. I guess no one. Pretty sure they’re never going to check these things. There’s no reason to write anything at all, except I can’t sleep.
Anyway, today was the day. Got on a plane that flew from Richmond to the Bangor Airport in Maine. Some curly-haired woman in a white T-shirt with “Alton Academy” on the pocket was waiting for me right there where I got off the plane- just in case I tried to run.
We waited around for almost four hours as a bunch of other fuck ups flew in. One of the planes came from Brazil, so I guess they’ve got some fuck ups there, too.
Anyway, us fuck ups got on a bus. Regular yellow bus, but not doing regular bus stuff. We had assigned seats. They gave us bag lunches, like a third grade field trip. They had wavy chips and everything.
The bus drove us way out into the boonies. The Allagash Wilderness is what it’s called. We’re in a forest- a real one- right up at the Maine-Canada border.
Woods for miles and miles, crisscrossed by little streams and creeks and at least one big river.
Was it how I thought it would be? I don’t know. And you don’t care. Cause you’re not a person, are you?
I will say- it was cold. As soon as the sun started to go down, it didn’t feel like summer anymore.
The road we were on was really narrow, like it’s just for one car at a time. But it was paved. I wish I could remember if it was a county road or what, but that doesn’t matter. I’m not trying to escape. They told us there’s a big fence all around the place. Like prison.
Looking out the bus windows before it got dark, we saw some people rafting on the river and a few cabins here and there. But for most of the way, it was just woods. These are different than the stuff back in Virginia. Different trees. More conifers, I think, or maybe they’re called evergreens? It’s dense and dark, like something from a fairy tale. Lots of ivy and this forest floor that’s got a lot of…bush-type stuff. You feel like you could get lost here.
I figure the bus ride was a fitting start. Everything started in a bus, didn’t it? Buses ruined my life and then this bus drove me up here where I’m supposed to fix it.
Bottom line- it doesn’t matter. All of that shit’s in the past now.
All I need to focus on is moving forward. Even Coach Bert is in on the plan. I promised him I’ll work the program here as fast as possible, hopefully in just a few weeks. Then I’ll be back. I’m not the first one from my school to go to Alton Academy. “Academy.” - note the quotations.
