Date: Mon, 30 Jan 2006 14:59:15 -0800
From: Ryan Miller <bluedragon314@gmail.com>
Subject: Bonding Energy Ch. 7

Consider this the second edition of my story. I looked back at my early
works and saw how much I have improved as a writer and thought it only
behooved me to polish up what I had written. So, I went through and edited
the story stylistically and structurally. The story is still the same, just
shinier.

Disclaimer: This is a homoerotic story I have written, so if you aren't
allowed legally, morally or ethically to read it, then don't. And don't
post this anywhere else without my expressed permission. Feedback is very
much encouraged, so hit me up at bluedragon314@gmail.com.

Ch.7

That night, I had a restless, dreamless sleep. In retrospect I guess it
was a good thing because any dream would surely have been of the horrible
argument I had with Brian. But the body needs a good night's rest, and I
quickly found out why. When the alarm woke me up to get ready for school,
I felt terrible. My head was throbbing, I was disoriented and I would
have given anything to stay in bed just a little longer. I don't know
first-hand but, judging from James' reactions, this must be what a
hangover feels like.

I quickly drifted back to sleep and had the dream I was dreading. I was
sitting on Brian's bed and he was standing in front of me, yelling. I
didn't know what he was saying, but he was crying and I felt very bad. I
felt angry, upset, betrayed and just a twinge of shame. The alarm went
off again and I quickly got out of bed, despite the searing headache that
ensued. I didn't want to risk another dream like that.

Downstairs in the kitchen, I sat at the table, staring into my cereal. I
wasn't hungry at all. I just moved the floating pieces around with my
spoon. James walked in wearing a nice, blue business suit and paused when
he saw me. "Still upset over last night?" he asked.

"How'd you guess?" I said, dryly.

"Right," he said. "Stupid question." He walked over and sat down across
from me and asked, "What are you going to say when you see him?"

"I hope I never see him again," I said. "I hurt him and he hurt me. We're
even. Now I can get out of his already messed-up life."

"You're just going to leave him?" he asked.

"He left me!" I exclaimed, throwing my spoon down on the table. I bent
over the table with my face in my arms and started crying. I felt so bad
about hurting Brian, but I felt really bad that he had rejected me. I
kept wondering what he meant when he said we were too similar. I figured
two people who were the same would get a long great.

James sat there, watching me cry. "You know," he said, "somewhere Brian
is out there and he's feeling just as bad as you."

"Why should I care?" I said. "He's the one who decided to walk out and
break my heart last night."

"But^Åit sounded like you walked out on him first," said James.

"What?" I said as I sat up straight. I felt attacked by this unfounded
accusation. I knew I treated him like a trophy boyfriend, but when did I
walk out on him?

"He just wanted a friend who could be there for him, not someone to gawk
at him. He trusted you to be that friend, but you weren't. You walked out
on that job."

"So, you're taking his side?"

"I'm not taking anyone's side."

"Why couldn't he be my boyfriend? What's wrong with me?"

"Kyle, you were expecting too much too fast. He's still adjusting to the
whole gay thing just like you are. He isn't ready for a boyfriend, and
neither are you."

"But what's wrong with wanting him to like me?"

"But he does like you. He likes you a lot. It's just got nothing to do
with sex."

"But that's not what I want from him. I want to be closer to him than
that."

"It's not about what you want, Kyle! And you are close to him, but
you call too much attention to his sexuality. He's still scared and he
neesd someone to just be there for him. And when your wants take away
from someone's needs like that, something's wrong."

James was starting to sound like that teacher on the playground who
always spoiled your fun by telling you to stop running. I knew he was
right, but I really didn't want to admit it.

I just picked up my spoon and kept toying with my cereal. James let out a
sigh and said, "Sitting here won't going to get you any closer to Brian.
If you really want to be his boyfriend, just play by his rules for now.
Go to school, apologize to him and let him know you still care. If you
still stand a chance of being with him, he'll let you know. The ball is
in his court and you have to wait until he makes a play."

"Thanks for nothing," I said.

James walked over to me and hugged me. "I hate seeing you act this way,"
he said. "You feel bad and you have every right to. But don't get mad at
me or Brian because it's nobody's fault. You shouldn't have been so
selfish, Brian shouldn't have been so cold, and I should have told you."

It was for reasons like this I trusted James so much. How could I stay
upset when he cared so much for me, even when I was a little jerk? I'll
admit I was being selfish, and Brian sure was cold when he left, and
James^Åwait!

"What do you mean, 'I should have told you?'" I asked. James let go of me
and walked towards the door without a word. "Hold on!" I shouted getting
up to follow him. I got to the door as he was getting in is truck. "What
do you mean you should have told me?"

He closed the door and rolled down the window. "Don't forget to talk to
Brian when you see him. Regardless of last night, I know he still cares,"
he said and he backed out of the driveway and left for work.

'What the hell?' I thought. 'He should have told me what? What does he
know that would have any bearing on the argument? What does^×oh crap!' I
saw the bus coming a few blocks down the street. I ran inside and got my
backpack together and got outside just in time to catch the bus.

When I got to school, there was a strange tension in the air. People
looked paranoid and the cheerleaders seemed unusually gossipy. I knew
what they were all talking about. I told Brian I would be by his side
today, but I was feeling kind of uneasy about that since our argument.
And seeing the school erupt in gossip and homophobia told me I should do
my best to avoid Brian that day. I didn't have chemistry that afternoon,
so it would be that much easier to get through the day without running
into him.

PE was brutal. Not that it wasn't anyway, but the guys in the locker room
were talking about nothing but Brian. All the jocks were shocked and
appalled that their star quarterback was gay. The fact that he was one of
the best football players in the state didn't matter. They didn't want to
have to "tackle some queer."

After PE, I had health. It was full of sophomores, so I figured I could
take a break from the gossiping seniors. But it wasn't long before the
girls at the table in front of me started talking about how it was such a
shame that such a hot guy turned out to be gay.

'Speak for yourself, girls,' I thought. Then I was painfully reminded
that it didn't matter for me. 'Brian doesn't want me. All he wants is a
brother. Well, I already have one of those and one is enough. He's going
to have to look somewhere else.'

"You know who else is probably gay?" said one of the girls. "Mark
Turner."

"I know," gasped the other. "I mean, have you seen the way he, like,
walks around all weird and stuff and, like, how his clothes always
match?"

"I know!" squealed the other.

'Oh, crap!' I thought. 'What if I make their list? I just learned over
the weekend that, despite my best efforts, I am as gay as the day is
long. Well, not flaming gay. But I may as well be, it seems.'

Soon the bell rang and it was time for lunch. As soon as everyone got
their food and sat down there were two topics for discussion: the fact
that Brian was gay, and who else might be.

The cafeteria was abuzz with gossip and accusations. A fight even broke
out between two guys because one accused the other's friend of being gay.
This was all too much tension for me and I didn't want to expose myself
as a queer so I hid in the library for the duration of lunch. Sure I
didn't eat anything, but I wasn't really hungry.

When lunch was over, I hastily made it to my CARE class (CARE is some
dumb-ass acronym about developing job skills. The actual title doesn't
even spell C-A-R-E. It was my least favorite class ever, and it takes a
lot for me to hate a class.) When the class started, everyone was quiet
for the first time that day. But everyone hated the class as much as I
did, so they never really talked in it anyway. Our teacher started some
inane lesson on how to properly look for an apartment when the kid in the
desk behind mine leaned over and said, "Hey, Wilson."

I turned around and said "What?"

"Did you hear about Brian Fleishman?" he asked.

'Kid, if only you knew,' I thought. But I wanted to hear everyone else's
impression of the situation, so I played along.

"Kind of," I said. "What's going on?"

"Well, it turns out he's gay," he said.

"No, really? The quarterback?" I embellished.

"Yeah! Isn't that weird?" he said. "They say he brought his boyfriend to
his dad's retirement party and his dad got really mad and kicked them out
of the house. Then his mom started calling all the other moms about it
and that's how everyone found out."

"Who is his boyfriend?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said. "But I bet it's Ruben Coleman. That guy is such
a fag."

My stomach lurched when I heard that word. It's so full of hate. But I
was relieved that people didn't think it was me. It's nice to be in the
clear.

Crappy-Ass Really bad Education got over and all I had to do was endure
creative writing. It was all downhill from here. It would seem that while
rumors were flying, I was not part of them. And all day, I had seen
neither hide nor hair of Brian. And I didn't care. He walked out on me,
so I didn't have to see him if I didn't want to.

My creative writing teacher was something else. There's no way to really
describe Lidia Yuknavich. Hippie seems closest, but she's too smart for
that. She's definitely laid back. Anyway, when class got started, she got
right to the point.

"So," she said, "turns out Brian Fleishman is gay. How do you guys feel
about that?"

To say I was uncomfortable at this point would be like saying Justin
Berfield is cute: a huge understatement. But this is the kind of stuff
Lidia did in class, so I wasn't really surprised.

Mark Turner, who sat in front of me, said, "It's a big surprise to most
people because being quarterback and stuff is such a masculine thing and
being gay is anything but masculine."

"Ok, that's a good place to start," said Lidia. "Anybody else?"

"I agree with Mark," said Ruben Coleman. "Quarterbacks have the whole
stereotype of being womanizers and getting lucky with the cheerleaders.
And Brian being gay defies all of that."

"I see," said Lidia. "So guys like Brian are supposed to be all masculine
and tough and have lots of sex with lots of girls. Am I right? Is that
what we expect in our society?" The class silently nodded. "So when
someone like Brian turns out to be gay, why does it bother people so
much?"

"Because it's a huge shock to our paradigm," said Mark. "It's like going
your whole life with your favorite color being green and then someone
tells you that the color you think is green is actually blue."

"A little extreme, but I'll take that," said Lidia. "Any objections to
Mark's theory? Anyone? Ok. Tell me, who here has seen Fight Club?" Most
of the class raised their hands. I had never seen the movie because it
looked like some dumb Brad Pitt action flick, and I'm not really that
impressed with Brad Pitt. "Ok," said Lidia, "Who has read the book?" A
few more hands went up. "Well," she continued, "Did you know that Chuck,
the guy who wrote it, is gay?" The room went very quiet. The guys who had
so eagerly raised their hands were now looking at the floor as if ashamed
of the fact they liked the movie so much.

"It's weird, isn't it?" she said, "That a story that is all about guys
beating the shit out of each other^×which is a very masculine thing to
do^×was written by a gay guy. How about this: you know the band 'Queen'?
They sang 'We are the Champions', 'Another One Bites the Dust,' 'Bohemian
Rhapsody,' those songs. Well, the lead singer for Queen is gay, too." The
silence in the room was deafening. "What, you guys didn't know that? God,
you need to get out more! So, now that I have shocked your paradigm even
more, is there anything else you guys wanted to talk about?"

Nobody said anything. Even Mark, who always had something to say, was
quiet.

"Does it seem like society needs to redefine what it thinks of as
masculine?" asked Lidia.

Mark's hand twitched, but he didn't say anything.

"Great," said Lidia, "because now you have more time for your story.
Today, I want you to write a short story in which someone learns a lesson
from someone else through a great irony, such as a big, masculine sports
star being gay. You can write it here or go to the library and type it,
but it's due at the end of class."

For the rest of class I kept trying to come up with something, but all I
could think about was Brian.

'I guess it is a pretty great irony to be the quarterback and be gay,' I
thought. 'But you know what's an even bigger irony? A boy like me being
with Brian. Sure, I'm no Hayden Christensen, but I could have been a good
boyfriend. He didn't have to walk out like that. He could have just said
it's ok for me to think he's hot and hug me and sleep with me in his arms
again. He didn't have to abandon me. I bet he's out on the street now,
looking for the next boy whose heart he's going to break. I bet he'll
never have a boyfriend because he's just too picky! What's wrong with me?
You know what, there's nothing wrong with me! It's you who has the
problem, Brian Fleishman!'

I left the class without finishing the assignment and felt really mad. I
just wanted to get home so I could get away from all the shallow freaks
who don't have a clue what was really going on. And I wanted to avoid
Brian more than I ever had before. I even decided to walk out the little
service door on the side of the school so I wouldn't risk running into
him. Only stoners hung out there, so there was no way I would meet him,
and no way he could hurt me again.

I walked out the door following the janitor as he left to take out the
trash. On either side of me was a dumpster and in front was the dugout of
the junior-varsity baseball field. I figured I would wait a few minutes
to miss the rush to the busses while the janitor hefted the trash into
the proper dumpsters.

When he went back inside, I heard a voice ask, "Is he gone."

I looked around to see who it was and heard another voice from behind a
dumpster say, "I think so."

"Alright then, lest get back to work."

I heard the distinct sounds of fists on flesh and cries of pain from
someone who was being beaten by what sounded like three or four guys. I
knew trouble went down out here, but I had never witnessed it. My
beatings usually took place in the cafeteria, and at the hands of Brian
and his flunkies (another reason to not like the jerk).

"You had enough, fag?" said one voice. The victim coughed and let out a
meek cry. Something pierced my heart when I heard that cry. There was
something familiar about it. It sounded just like the one I'd heard all
last weekend. I ran around to the other side of the dumpster and was
horrified to see Brian crumpled on the ground in fear as four jocks, led
by none other than Shawn Thomas, kicked the crap out of him.

I stared at Brian as tears flowed from his eyes like the blood flowing
from his mouth. He looked scared and utterly helpless. 'Why doesn't he
fight them off?' I asked myself. 'The captain of the wrestling team
should be able to do that, right?' But he laid there as these bullies
kicked him and mocked him.

I felt a great swell of compassion for him. At that point, I didn't care
how he hurt me. At that point, I didn't care that he left. I was his
brother and he was in trouble. "Hey!" I declared in a shaky voice. "Leave
him alone!"

The bullies all stopped and looked at me. I felt like each one was about
to run at me and tear me to pieces. But they didn't. Shawn just walked
over to me and said, "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

I'm not sure what came over me at that point, but I had somehow managed
to marshal the courage to say this: "My name is Kyle Wilson. The boy
you're beating the crap out of is a very close friend of mine. In fact we
are so close, you could call us brothers. [Cue Battle Hymn of the
Republic] Now I know we aren't related, but genetics doesn't count for
shit! It's not DNA that makes a family, but the respect and trust and
love that we have for each other. And while we may have our hard times
together, nothing can break the bond of brotherhood that we share. Not
hateful parents or sociopath siblings or selfish arguments. He may be
gay, but big deal. So am I! And I am proud to call him my brother!"

Or at least that's what I would have said if Shawn hadn't grabbed me
right after "My name is^×" and threw me in one of the dumpsters that his
cohort had so conveniently opened for him. I landed on the remnants of
today's spaghetti and the lid was promptly closed on me.

I heard riotous laughter coming from outside. Then Shawn said, "Now,
where were we? Huh? What the fuck!?" I heard more punches and more
yelling and something banged against the side of the dumpster. I felt
really sorry for Brian.

"Get him! Get Him!" yelled one of the bullies.

"I'm trying!" yelled another. It no longer sounded like the fight was
going in their favor, so I got up and opened the lid enough to see what
was happening. Brian was taking on two guys at once while another stood
and watched. I didn't see Shawn standing anywhere and figured it was he
that had just landed against the dumpster.

Brian had one guy in a headlock and was using his feet and fists to fend
off the other. The guy in the headlock managed to struggle free and
reared up to punch Brian, but Brian quickly punched him in the gut and
sent him doubling over onto the ground. The one he was fending off
decided to lunge at him in an effort to tackle him. Brian grabbed him by
the arm and flung the bully over his shoulder in the style that James and
Aaron had "taught" him. He landed on the ground next to his cohort and
didn't get back up. Brian turned to face the onlooker who looked like a
deer in headlights. And like a deer, he ran away.

It was over. Brian had taken out the bullies that only recently had him
curled up on the ground. He looked around at his defeated foes as they
lay on the ground. He wiped blood from his mouth and then he saw me in
the dumpster. He smiled at me and said, "Hey, Kyle."

"Uh, hi, Brian," I said sheepishly.

"Thanks a lot," he said with labored breath.

"But, I didn't do anything," I replied. I wasn't sure if he was being
sarcastic or not.

"Yes^Åyou did," he said. "You kept^Åyour promise." And then he collapsed
on the ground.

I climbed out of the dumpster and landed on top of Shawn. I went over to
Brian and said, "But you sure put up a good fight^ÅBrian? Brian, are you
ok?" I shook his arm and he didn't respond. "Brian!" I yelled. I rolled
him on his back and looked for a pulse. I could see he was breathing, so
he was still alive. "Wake up! You have to wake up!"

I went over to the guy he had punched in the gut and asked, "Do you have
a cell phone?"

"Fuck off!" he wheezed.

I kicked him in the balls and he lurched foreword in pain. "I said, 'Do
you have a cell phone?'" I knew it was a low blow, but I had no patience
for negotiations.

With the hand that wasn't holding his groin, he pointed to a backpack on
the ground and weakly said, "Small pocket."

"Thanks," I replied and went over and retrieved his phone. I dialed 911
and they said they would send an ambulance and a squad car to the school.
I tossed the cell phone on the bully's backpack and went over to Brian. I
moved his body so he was lying on his side and made sure his head was
supported. I did my best to clean the blood off his face with the tail of
my shirt. He had a cut on his lip and his face was swollen in a few
places. I didn't know why he was unconscious, but he had probably taken
too many blows to the head. I kneeled next to him, staring at the beaten
form of my newest brother and watched over him until the paramedics came.