Date: Fri, 2 Jun 2006 23:56:38 -0700 (PDT)
From: Lusty <lustyville@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Science of Us-Part18. Losing My Mind (Kyle)

     I don't think Pat understood why people had turned on him,
but I did. When word first got around that he was gay, people
didn't know what to do about him so they looked to the popular
kids to take the lead. With Drew and John, the two kings of
Clairmont, sticking in his corner, people let it slide. Now that
he had turned Drew gay, he was probably the most hated guy in
school. Some of the same people who smiled in his face, day after
day were the same people who harassed Nick for being gay, even
though he wasn't. Laurie was one of the worst. That was why I
never liked her. If she had been a guy, I would have kicked her
ass years ago, but my mother raised me to never hit a girl, even
if she was a bitch and did deserve it, so Laurie was safe from my
wrath.

     I looked over at Pat. I was so angry with him. I wanted to
reach over and hit him, but he was driving and I thought that
would be a bad idea. We were on our way to Drew's house to check
on him. I needed Pat to be there for me, and he was running off
to be with Drew. I thought he was being insensitive because he
could have waited to go see Drew, but he was rushing there as if
to let me know that Drew being outed was much more important to
him than me being outed. Truthfully, I passed being angry at the
second stop sign and I was sitting there seething, waiting for
Pat to say something stupid so I could go off on him. He must
have sensed my mood because he was quiet after I told him not to
defend Drew.

     We reached Drew's house and Pat practically jumped out of
the car. I was surprised when Drew's mother asked us to come back
the next day, but Pat barged in anyway. Drew's mother threatened
to call the cops, but Pat didn't care. I was scared. If the cops
came, they could arrest both of us for forced entry and probably
attach trespassing and then dig up something else to charge us
with, too. Pat had money, he could buy his way out of jail, but I
was not that fortunate. I would rot in there. I walked silently
behind Pat as we went up the stairs. I had visions of me pushing
him and making him fall on the stairs and yelling at him, `What
the fuck are we doing here?' But they were just visions. I kept
my hands to myself.

     Pat didn't knock or anything, he just opened the door to
Drew's room and walked in. Drew was crying on his bed. `Aw, poor
Drew. Now the whole world knows his secret,' I thought, knowing I
was being sarcastic. I started to say it out loud, but I heard
Drew scream when Pat touched his shoulder and that grabbed my
attention away from my own thoughts. I watched as Pat lifted
Drew's shirt and revealed bruise after bruise on Drew's back. All
the anger I had felt towards Drew for everything he had done was
momentarily wiped out because it seemed so unimportant. I
remember thinking, `Oh my God,' but I don't know if I just
thought it, or if I said it out loud. Whatever the case,
something alerted Drew to my presence and he turned to look at
me. I have never been able to get that image of him out of my
head. He had a cut on his forehead, one of his eyes was dark red
and swollen shut, his nose was red, his cheeks were both rosier
than I ever remembered them being, and his bottom lip was busted.
His pillow was a mess of red and pink, and there were two places
on his pillow that were deep red. I assumed the spots were from
his forehead and his lip. Seeing him like that shook me to my
core. I felt sick. How could anyone do that to another person,
let alone their child?

     Drew didn't say anything he just turned his head and put it
back down on the pillow. Pat said something to me, but I missed
it the first time because my mind wasn't able to process the
words. I saw his lips moving and I knew he was talking to me, but
I couldn't hear him. I shook my head and blinked a few times.

     "Huh? What did you say?" I asked him.

     "Call John."

     "Okay." I followed his instructions without thinking. I took
out my phone and called John. He answered and I didn't know what
to say.

     "Kyle, say something. I hear you breathing," he said.

     "How'd you know it was me?" I asked, caught off guard.

     "Your number is in my phone, I always know it's you. Are you
okay?"

     "No."

     "Well, what's wrong? Did the two of you have a fight?"

     "We're at Drew's house. Pat told me to call you."

     "What happened?"

     "I'm not sure."

     "Well is Drew okay? Is he hurt?"

     "Yes."

     "Yes what! Is he okay?" he screamed through the phone.

     "I, he, well, um, fine, he's fine, no, not fine, um, hurt,
but okay, um, I think, yeah, he's okay." I was too flustered to
put my thoughts in to sentences.

     "Huh?" asked John.

     I didn't have time to gather myself and respond because Pat
took the phone away from me. "Hey John, it's Pat. Sorry, of
course you know who I am, um, Drew needs you." John must have
asked how Drew was because Pat said, "He's fine. We're taking him
to my place, so you should meet us there." Pat paused and
listened to John say something else. "Oh, I didn't realize you
were still on your date. That must have been a really long movie.
Uh, yeah, when she comes out of the bathroom, you know, just um,
drop her off and uh, meet us at my house. Don't tell her where
you're going though." John must have asked him why not. "Just
trust me, don't tell her." I assumed John agreed, because Pat
told him bye and hung up the phone. He handed me my phone. "We've
got to get him out of here," he said.

     "Okay."

     Pat turned to Drew. "Do you think you can walk?" he asked
him.

     Drew turned his head to the side and mumbled, "Yes."

     Pat and I watched as Drew tried to sit up on the bed. I
moved to help him, but Pat grabbed me. "Let him do it himself,"
he whispered, "he doesn't like to be helped." We stood there and
watched Drew slowly maneuver his body on his bed. Finally, he
pushed up with his arms and he was sitting on the side of the
bed. His shirt fell down, covering his bruises once again.

     He looked up at Pat. "I hurt like hell, this time. I know
it's bad."

     "It's okay Drew, I'm here now and John is on the way."

     Drew grimaced in pain. He reached for his left side. "I
think something's broken. I can feel it."

     "Where?" asked Pat.

     "On the inside."

     "We need to get you to the hospital," said Pat as he walked
towards him.

     "No. You know me, I'll be fine. Now let's go." Drew slipped
his feet in some flip-flops by his bed and stood up fast. He
proceeded to start falling forward.

     Pat caught him. "I got you big guy," he told him as he
helped him get his balance. Drew grimaced again, probably from
the pain of Pat making contact with his sore spots, but he didn't
say anything.

     Drew lightly pushed him away. "I don't need your help. I can
make it."

     Pat said, "Of course you don't need my help. I know how
strong you are. I'm just going to walk next to you and if you
feel the need to lean on me, not for support, but as a friend,
I'll be there."

     I wondered if Drew would fall for it and sure enough, as
soon as they walked out of Drew's room, he was leaning on Pat. As
I walked behind them, I couldn't help but speculate that the same
scene had been played out many times before. His mother was
waiting at the bottom of the stairs. She didn't look up at them
as they walked by. "See you tomorrow, baby. Have fun with your
friends," she said in a low voice. They didn't acknowledge her,
but I found myself staring at her, wondering what was going on in
that head of hers. She must have felt my stare because she looked
up at me and our eyes met. Her eyes communicated her sadness
mixed with fear in a way that I'm sure she never could. I didn't
stop though I walked right past her and broke our eye contact as
I reached the door. I knew something had brought her to this
place in her life, and I also knew that I would never know what
it was. I turned around to look at her after I stepped off the
final step. I saw her just as she was closing the door. It was
funny, but for a second, it didn't look like she was closing the
door, it looked like the house was swallowing her whole. `That
poor woman,' I thought as I turned around and walked towards the
car.

     "Shit!" exclaimed Pat as he slammed his hands down on the
top of his car.

     "What the fuck happened?" asked Drew, leaning against the
car for the support that Pat had suddenly taken away from him.

     "I'll tell you later," said Pat.

     "What's wrong?" I asked as I walked up beside him.

     "There's glass all over the fucking backseat!"

     The incident that had led us to come to Drew's house that
night, seemed so far away, almost like an afterthought, and not a
real memory, but there was the glass, reminding us that the event
was real. It was all real.

     I watched as Pat kicked his car. "You fucking piece of
shit!" he yelled. I knew he wasn't really mad at the car, and I
also knew that he was starting to lose it. I did what anybody
would do when they saw someone they sort of cared about on the
edge of flipping out. I pulled him in to a hug.

     "Calm down," I whispered in his ear. "It's okay. We'll
figure this out." I rubbed my hands up and down his back, trying
to relax him. I kissed his neck and he pushed me.

     "That's not helping," he told me as he backed away.

     "Sorry."

     "I need to sit down," Drew announced as he sat down on the
grass.

     "We could get a suitcase and I could sit on top of it," I
suggested.

     "We're not going back in that house," Pat informed me in a
surprisingly calm voice. We fell silent as we tried to think of
something to do. I started to wonder why we weren't in a rush to
leave. "Drew could sit in your lap," Pat finally said.

     Drew laughed a little. "Don't make me laugh, it hurts too
much," he told Pat as he grabbed his side again.

     "I'm serious," said Pat.

     "I don't think that will work. He's in too much pain for me
to hold him." I didn't want to hold Drew, even in his current
condition. Knowing the thoughts that were running around in my
mind, made me feel like a bad person. `What's wrong with me,' I
thought. After a few minutes, I turned to Pat and asked, "Do you
have a spare tire?"

     "Huh?"

     "I could sit on it in the backseat."

     Pat walked to me and put his hands on my face. He leaned in
and planted a quick peck on my lips. "You're brilliant," he told
me as he flashed me a smile.

     I felt good again, like I had redeemed myself a little. Pat
pushed a button on his keychain and unlocked the trunk. He took
out the spare tire and unlocked the doors. He handed me the tire
and I put it on the backseat, while he helped Drew get in the
passenger seat. Drew couldn't wear the seatbelt because it hurt
too much.

     We didn't talk as we rode to Pat's house. I don't think
anyone knew what to say. We pulled in Pat's driveway and John and
Chris were standing at the door, waiting for us. They both rushed
to the car when the car stopped. Chris ran to Pat's side, and
John ran to Drew.

     As soon as Pat opened the door, Chris asked, "Did Laurie's
friends do that to your window? I heard they lost it, but damn!
That's taking it too far!"

     "How'd you know?" asked Pat.

     "You think those chicks didn't call Jessica? We were trying
to have a romantic dinner and they called her talking all this
trash about me and you and Drew and John and telling her that we
were all faggots. She went off on them, but they told her you had
already gotten yours. I can't believe this shit is happening."

     "Neither can I," he said.

     By this time, John had helped Drew out of the car and was
helping him in the house. I got out the car and started walking
in, giving Pat and Chris some time to talk. I felt out of place,
but I couldn't leave. I followed John and Drew upstairs. They
went in Pat's bedroom, and I stopped in his sitting room to give
them some privacy. I turned on the television to some video
channel, but I wasn't watching the videos. My eyes were looking
at the television, but my mind was bouncing around to random
events. I started feeling lonely, so I took out my phone and
called Nick.

     He picked up the phone, "Oh my God, Kyle, Matt's on the
other line. He was telling me what happened tonight. Where are
you?"

     "I'm at Pat's."

     "I'm on my way," he said.

     "Thanks." He hung up and I hung up. I sat there and waited.

     I glanced at my watch and zoned out again. It seemed like
minutes later, when Chris and Pat walked in the sitting room, but
I looked at my watch and saw that thirty minutes had passed. Pat
motioned for me to follow them. I didn't want to go in that room,
because I was the odd man out, but I would follow Pat over a
cliff if he asked, so I stood up and walked in the room.

     John and Drew were on the bed. Drew had a pillow propping
him up and he was clinging to John. The scene before me seemed
all wrong, if one of them was clinging to the other, it seemed
like it should be John clinging to Drew. John always seemed like
the weak one to me, but I guess I didn't know Drew that well. It
was my fault because I never wanted to know more about him, so
our conversations had been limited.

     "So how are you feeling?" asked Chris.

     "Sore," said Drew.

     "You know Laurie has been blabbing her mouth, don't you?"

     Drew looked at Chris. "I assumed she would. She told me
she's going to make sure the whole school knows by Monday."

     "Well she's doing a good job," said John. "I think half the
school already knows and it's only been a few hours."

     "Really?" I asked.

     "Word is spreading like wildfire. Britney came back from the
bathroom and asked me if I was gay. She said everyone was talking
about us. She told me that she was in the bathroom and some girl
walked up to her and gave her a hug, saying, `You're a good
person. I'm so sorry this happened to you. I would just die if I
found out my boyfriend was gay.' Britney asked her what happened
and the girl relayed the story. Britney pulled out her phone and
she had about ten messages from girls telling her what happened
and warning her about me. She walked out the bathroom and went
off on me about it. I told her I wasn't gay, but she didn't
believe me. She had one of her friends take her home, so I came
straight here. I can't believe Laurie would do something like
this!"

     "I can," I said. "She's a bitch! She always has been." Drew
looked over at me, but I looked away. "How did word get around so
fast?" I asked.

     "It's Friday night, half the school is out partying, so it's
not hard to spread the word when you have big groups everywhere.
The only people who probably don't know are the losers who stayed
at home, and I'm sure even some of them have gotten a phone call
from a friend telling them the latest gossip."

     "Oh," I said, as I watched John run his fingers through
Drew's hair. My brain started churning out thoughts again. "Does
this happen a lot?" I asked.

     "What?"

     "His father," I said, knowing John would understand.

     "Not too often," said Drew. "Why would you ask something
like that? What do you think my father gets drunk and beats on
me?" Drew sounded angry.

     "No, but Pat seemed to know what would happen to you, and
John and Chris don't seem surprised. I don't know, it just, I
mean, I just, I can tell it's happened before, that's all. I
wasn't trying to insinuate anything."

     "He only hits me when I give him a reason," replied Drew as
if that made it okay.

     "But I don't understand! You're bigger than him! Why would
you let him do this to you?" The words flew out of my lips almost
as quickly as the thoughts formed in my head. I knew I shouldn't
have said it the second it was out, but it was too late.

     "You couldn't understand," said John. The way he said it,
told me that he did.

     The way they were all looking at me made me feel about two
feet tall. "Um, I'm going to go and uh, give you guys some
privacy. Um, yeah." I shook my head and walked out of the room. I
didn't notice Pat following me.

     I was in the sitting room when I felt his hand on my
shoulder. "Wait," he said.

     "Why? I shouldn't be here. I don't even know what to say to
him."

     "Then don't stay for him, stay for me."

     "You've got Chris," I told him.

     "And you've got me," he said.

     "And me, too," came a voice from the left. I turned to see
Nick standing there. All of us were closer to Pat than him, yet
he was the one who used the spare key the most.


Copyright Lustyville 2006
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