Raise Your Glass (5 page)

And once again, I was the bad guy.

“Kyle!” Gunn said, shaking me back to my senses. I stood tiptoe so he wasn’t holding me up off the ground, and I felt like a little kid being scolded by a father I never knew. I tried to shake him off me, but the man was no fool; he held the back of my shirt like you hold a puppy by the scruff of its neck. “Tony, get your ass off the floor now,” he barked, ignoring me completely. As the other boy got to his feet, he said in a voice barely above a whisper, “If I let you go and you go at him again, you’re going to have to deal with me. Do you understand?”

I did indeed understand.

Tony stood a few steps back from me, the other two jocks flanking him on either side like secret service agents in football jerseys. He was trying to regain his game face, but I could see the very real shock in his eyes as he looked at me. There was being surprised by something and then witnessing something impossible, like water bursting into flame or something falling skyward. What had just happened was honestly beyond his level of comprehension, and it was going to be a while until he was okay with the idea that not every nerd would take being bullied without doing something back.

“What was that about?” the coach asked once it was clear that I wasn’t going to pull a Wolverine and try for two in a row. Of course he said nothing, since I had broken the cardinal rule of high school existence. I had taken the first swing. Like some ancient chivalrous code of conduct or the whackjob coeds on reality TV, the person who threw the first punch was always at fault.

“He just came at me.” Tony was obviously trying to walk that fine line between being the victim who had just been attacked and the jock—the cool guy who was, of course, at no time threatened by the situation. “Maybe it’s his time of the month,” he added with a smirk.

I took a step toward him, and he flinched closer to his two clones.

Gunn wedged himself between us, but I had made my point so stood my ground. “Kyle, explain yourself.”

Before I could answer, Tony interjected, “He’s a fag, coach. He’s mad because I don’t swing that way.”

The coach spun on him and screamed, “Wright! Stow that shit!” A couple of people chuckled, and Tony realized he wasn’t on a football field surrounded by like-minded muscle heads. Jocks on football fields responded to swearing, but in a classroom words like that caused far more trouble than they were worth. In a more subdued tone, he said, “We don’t call people things like that here.”

“But I’m not calling him anything he isn’t, Coach!” Tony pointed at me. “Ask him!”

Gunn turned to look at me. “Is this true?”

Remember the good old days when I was just invisible and miserable? Good times.

“Am I gay?” I said as confidently as I could. “Yes. Am I attracted to him?” I said, locking eyes with Tony. “No, since I only like men and not little bitches who can’t take a hit.”

Tony took a step at me, his fist raised, but obviously Gunn was ready. His hand engulfed the enraged jock’s fist before it even got close to me, stopping him in his tracks. “Next time anyone takes a swing at anyone, I am going to be the one hitting back.” He glanced at both of us. “We clear?”

Tony took a step back, rubbing his hand. “Yes, sir,” he answered, half pouting.

I just shrugged.

“Stilleno, to the office. Wright, sit down now,” Gunn ordered after a second.

I was going to argue the punishment until I remembered that the office was where I had been heading before this asshole had opened his mouth. Instead, I just turned and walked out of class; the only thing on my mind was finding Brad.

Brad

I
MUST
have passed out, because when I opened my eyes again, Kyle was there.

“Am I dreaming?” I asked as I tried to sit up. There was an ache that felt like I had just done a thousand crunches, and I instantly fell back onto the cot. “Okay, so not dreaming.”

“Don’t get up,” he said a little bit too late. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, keeping my eyes closed as I tried to focus past the pain. “Peachy.” I was unable to keep myself from wincing.

I heard him sigh and mumble, “So I guess we’re broadening the definition of okay to include massive abdominal pain.” I cracked one eye open and saw the worry on his face. “Did Tony do this?”

That brought me up short. I didn’t care how much it hurt, I moved myself into a sitting position. “Where did you hear that?”

Something moved across his features so fast I thought I might have imagined it. His eyes got cold and his lips pursed in what anyone else would have called fury. I had never seen anger from him before. Even back at the diner he hadn’t shown this much emotion. Just as quickly, though, it passed and my Kyle was back. “I didn’t hear it, I just figured it out.” I gave him a look that made it obvious I did not in any way believe that. He was smart but not even Sherlock Holmes could have come to that conclusion. When Kyle saw I wasn’t buying it, he added, “I heard him bragging about it in History.” My pulse began to race and I clenched my fists in frustration. He put his hand over mine and said with a smile, “It’s okay, I’m pretty sure his stomach isn’t feeling any better right now.”

I looked at him in shock. “Did you hit Tony Wright?”

He looked down shyly and shrugged. “I didn’t actually hit him,” he answered quietly. “I may have tackled him to the ground and then kneed him.” I know my mouth fell open in amazement when he amended it with a proud, “Twice, to be honest.”

I have had friends before.

I mean, I had a lot of people who called themselves my friends over the years. When someone is the golden boy of the school, there is no shortage of people trying to gain favor in one way or another. I don’t say this to brag; I am just making you aware. I have never felt as if I had been lacking in the companion department. But as I looked up and realized that this guy, this wonderful boy who never wanted more than to be invisible, had just gone toe to toe with the school’s running back to defend my honor, I knew for a fact that everyone who had come before meant nothing compared to him. I had possessed acquaintances and lackeys, sycophants and hangers-on, in every shape and variety. In all my eighteen years I had never seen what I saw sitting on a crappy nurse’s bed as he knelt next to me.

It was at that very moment I realized I was in love with Kyle Stilleno.

If you’d asked me last week, I would have told you I never wanted to be saved by someone else. The very thought that I might be so weak as to need another person to come charging in to rescue me would have been insultingly ridiculous. I stand over six feet tall, weigh 179 and can bench press 250 pounds on a good day. Until that moment, lying beat to hell on a cot in the Health Office, the thought I needed to be saved from anything had never entered my mind.

The cold hard fact was that I hadn’t needed to be saved now, but it just felt so fucking awesome that someone had tried that I couldn’t help myself.

I leaned forward and threw my arms around him. He stiffened in surprise as I squeezed him tight while I forced myself not to cry. He relaxed and hugged me back. I could feel him rest his head in the crook of my neck as we both surrendered to each other for a moment. “You’re crazy,” I whispered to him.

I felt him chuckle. “That’s one word for it,” he replied tiredly.

I pulled back and looked into his eyes. “What’s another?”

His eyes were watering, too, as we stared directly into each other’s souls for a brief second. “Love?”

I felt my mouth explode into a smile before the emotion actually registered with my brain. There was literally nothing I could do to stop myself from kissing him.

So I did.

It was a perfect moment, and for a few seconds, the pain and anguish of the day seemed to fade away as I was engulfed in the emotion he generated effortlessly in me. I had never felt like this about anyone before and I didn’t know about him, but I didn’t want it to ever end.

Which of course it did, seconds later.

“That’s enough of that,” a voice warned from the doorway. Kyle practically shoved me away as we both looked over to find the assistant principal, Mr. Adler, standing in the doorway, scowling. “If you’re feeling better, Mr. Greymark, perhaps you and Mr. Stilleno will join me in my office?”

He didn’t wait for an answer; instead he just turned around and walked away.

Kyle looked over at me nervously, and I had to laugh. He could fearlessly face off against football players but the possibility of getting dressed down by an assistant principal caused him to shake in his boots. It was just too cute.

“Well, if it gets too bad, you beat the hell out of him while I’m on lookout,” I said to him wryly. He lightly punched my shoulder, but I had made him smile and that was enough. I tried to stand but my stomach rebelled on me again and I paused, unable to suppress a groan. It was the wrong thing to do, of course, because now he knew how hurt I was.

“Don’t get up!” he said, almost pushing me back onto the cot.

“How long you think he’s gonna wait for us?” I asked, trying to keep my balance. “Just help me get upright. I’ll be fine.” Of course I had no idea if that would be true or not, but I couldn’t worry him about it. It was pretty evident by the look on his face that he knew I was conning him, but there was no denying that Adler was waiting for us to show up, and if he had to walk back here again to get us, it was only going to make it worse.

“I’m fine,” I assured him when he didn’t move to help me. “I promise.”

He tried to stifle the sigh of frustration as he helped me up, but I could still hear it.

It hurt like hell, but by leaning on his shoulder I was able to get upright. Once I was standing, the pain wasn’t so bad. As long as I didn’t clench my abs by bending over or laughing I should be fine. I looked over at him and nodded. Kyle had a look on his face that made me feel like I was going to collapse at any point. He stayed close as we walked out of the nurse’s room and toward Adler’s office.

Everyone tried not to stare but they were about as subtle as a car wreck as they looked at us and then away quickly. The whispering didn’t help any, either, but what was I supposed to do? Shout at them? Demand to know what they were saying? I knew what they were saying.
So those are the gay kids, and I heard the red-haired one used to be straight, with a girlfriend and everything.
It wasn’t the curiosity that pissed me off, it was the look of pity in their eyes. They watched us like we were condemned men walking toward the electric chair.

No, that’s not right. Let me rephrase that.

We were rightfully condemned men walking toward the electric chair; sad, but it was what we deserved for what we had done. That was what really pissed me off.

“Take a fucking picture!” I snapped at them when their curiosity became too much to deal with.

Kyle put a hand on my shoulder and whispered, “Just ignore them.”

I felt like turning around and kissing him right there to make a point. Throwing him down on the ground and making them watch us was a nice pipe dream but probably had more to do with my attraction to him than anything else.

Adler wasn’t alone when we walked into his office.

He had another assistant principal with him along with Mr. Davis, the head principal of Foster High. The only time I had seen Davis out of his office was when he accepted all the credit for one of our teams going to state. Like it was his fat ass that had been sweating blood, sweat, and tears on the field. Having him in the room stopped me cold, though; he did not spend his hard-earned calories for anything this side of an apocalypse.

“Ah, good; you’re both here,” Davis said, gesturing to the two chairs in front of the desk. “Brad, Kyle, thank you for coming.” The insinuation that he said it as if we had a choice made me sick. “We’ve had some problems today, have we?”

I was about to say something rude myself when Kyle popped off with, “No offense, Yoda, but can we get down to it?” I looked over at him in shock, and he just shrugged back at me. “What? We both know this isn’t going to end happy.”

The two assistant principals shifted uncomfortably, but Davis glared at Kyle for a moment before going on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “As you know, here at Foster High, we don’t tolerate any kind of fighting at all.”

He was about to go on, but Kyle interrupted him again. “So the guys who beat him up will be facing some form of punishment?” he asked, pointing at me.

“You were the one who was sent to the office for fighting, Mr. Stilleno,” Davis said with a chill in his voice.

“So I should have let the guys that were belittling me in front of the class just continue?” Kyle asked back.

What the hell had gotten into him? I’d never seen him this pissed off before, and that was including the time I almost broke up with him before we even started going out.

Davis seemed to take a second to gather his thoughts before starting again. “Okay, bottom line, boys. We have a strict rule against PDAs on campus.”

I was confused, since I owned an iPhone and Kyle didn’t even own a cell. I guess my confusion was evident, because Kyle explained, “Public display of affection.” And then it started to sink in.

Mr. Adler asked Kyle, “You weren’t giving him mouth-to-mouth, were you?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me” was all Kyle responded with. He looked like he was ready to swing at somebody the way he stood, his arms at his side with hands clenched in anger.

“You’ll find we aren’t, Kyle,” Davis said in what I am sure would be a sympathetic tone to anyone within earshot. “What you two do on your own time is fine and good, but as long as you are on campus you will
not
engage in it again. Is that understood?”

I felt like I was three inches high, but if anything, Kyle just seemed to get angrier.

“So this is going to be enforced for everyone, right?” he asked. All three men stared at him like he was some kind of lower lifeform that had had the nerve to address them. “Every cheerleader I see sucking face in the quad, and the people in the halls grabbing a quick feel between periods, they won’t be tolerated either, right?”