End of the Innocence Page 7

  I turned around to ask what they had in common, when a flash from a camera blinded me.

  “What the…?” I said, rubbing my eyes.

  “That’s a keeper!” I heard Tom say with an evil laugh.

  “A little warning next time!” I said as I squinted, trying to kill the afterimages.

  “That’s not the tradition,” Robbie said when my eyes cleared a bit. “First-timers always get their picture taken,” he said, pointing at a photo a couple of years old. A much younger Robbie and a stupid hot guy next to him stared out from the picture. They both looked like deer caught in the headlights. “That was my first night here,” he said with a wistful tone. “And you know him, of course?” he asked sarcastically, pointing to another picture. In it was a picture of Mr. Parker. He couldn’t have been more than a year older than Brad in the picture.

  “Wow, he was hot,” I said out loud.

  “Who’s that?’ Tom asked from behind the bar.

  “Fucking Tyler,” Robbie called back to him.

  “Yeah, he was a little stuck up when he first came in here, but he grew out of it.” I could hear a printer going off.

  “My ass he did,” Robbie muttered under his breath.

  “So this is a gay bar?” I asked, trying to change the subject. I began looking around in wonder, trying to take the place in.

  “No. This is the gay bar. Only gay bar for almost eighty-five miles,” Robbie said with some pride. “Trust me, when you’re gay, places like this are like gold.” I didn’t know about that. It seemed a little run down to be gold. I didn’t say anything, but he could see the look on my face. He held up one finger, reminding me of my promise. I nodded and tried to look neutral.

  “And done,” Tom said, holding up a piece of photo paper. On it was a picture of me, looking half-stoned. “Welcome to the club,” he said, pinning it to the wall.

  It seemed like a moment for him, so I smiled and said, “Thanks.”

  His laugh was so loud it seemed to fill the entire room for a moment. “They’re all the same at first, aren’t they?” he asked Robbie.

  “I wasn’t any better,” Robbie admitted.

  “No, but you made up for it.”

  I still had no idea what was going on.

  “I still have no idea what’s going on,” I said out loud. “You wanted to show me a wall of photos?”

  “Yeah,” Robbie said. “But not that wall, this one.” He led me over to the wall across from it.

  It was a wall full of funeral notices.

  Some were from the actual service; others were cut out from the newspaper. It wasn’t just the fact that there was a wall of dead people smiling out at me. It was that there were twice as many death notices as welcome photographs. I walked up to the wall, and I began to skim the articles one by one. Some were hospital deaths, AIDS-related kind of stuff, others were just random accidents like car crashes and the like.

  The majority of them were assaults.

  Robbie stood behind me and pointed. “He was stabbed, beaten, and then lit on fire.” His voice was thick with emotion. “They followed him home from a party and attacked him.” He pointed to another one. “He was attacked by two guys in a car. They beat him with a baseball bat, once he tried to fight back, they tried to pull him into their car, closed the door on his arm and dragged him for over a block before they let his body go.” He pointed to another one. “This one was jumped, and they took him—”

  I pushed him away as my stomach threatened to expel its contents at high velocity. “Stop!” I screamed. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” My breath was heaving as I struggled not to vomit. “Why would you bring me out here to show me this?”

  “Because it is our history,” Tom said, sitting at the bar quietly. “It is part of being gay in Texas.”

  “What is wrong with you?” I raged, taking a few steps back from them. “I don’t want to know this crap!”

  “Neither did I,” Robbie said, a deep sadness entering his voice. “I’m not from Foster, if you couldn’t tell.” I nodded but didn’t trust myself to say anything. “I lived near New York and met a great guy. We ended up dating and eventually got together.” His voice was a mix between anger and sorrow, and it was hard to listen to without reacting. “Riley’s family grew up around here, so I moved back with him.” He walked past me up to the wall. “I thought the same thing you did, that all of this had nothing to do with me.” He put his hand up to one of the pictures. “One night he walked out of the bar, got hit by a car that was owned by a guy who slowed down long enough to shout ‘fag’ out the window before he took off.” His voice dropped off, and I almost walked over toward him to give him some support.

  Before I could, he turned around. “He left me some money, and the only thing I wanted to do was get out of this fucking town. But I knew if I did, then he would have died for nothing. So I took the money and opened my shop and refused to leave.” His gaze met mine. “I know what happened scared you, and that sucks, but you have to understand. The more they get away with it, the more it will happen.”

  Tom said from behind me, “This the one Gayle was talking about?” I saw Robbie nod and heard the sigh from behind me. “Tony Wright’s been an asshole since he was born. His son isn’t much better. He and his friends are always driving around here seeing what kind of trouble they can cause.”

  “Now do you see?” Robbie asked me.

  I did.

  “You’re crazy!” I almost shouted when I could speak. “None of that has to do with me!” I said, gesturing toward the wall. “I am sorry about what happened to you, but that has nothing to do with what happened at the diner. In fact, my whole life has nothing to do with any of this! I didn’t ask to be gay, and I didn’t ask to be raised in Foster. The fact that both happened just means life sucks, and I am pretty sure Fate hates me. But there is nothing I can do about any of that.”

  I felt out of breath, and I expected Robbie to explode back at me.

  Robbie stared silently at me for what seemed like forever. Finally he asked, “So do you still plan on going to that party?”

  My answer barreled out of nowhere; I didn’t even stop to think. “Fuck no! Why would I go to the house of someone who hates me so I can be there with a bunch of his friends, who also hate me, and who are just going to get drunk and eventually realize I am there? And that I’m fresh meat? Does that sound like something I should do?”

  “Yes,” Robbie and Tom said at the same time.

  “This is crazy!” I said, throwing my hands up in frustration.

  “No. This is the real world, and you are now a part of it,” Robbie fired back.

  “Why does it matter if I go to a stupid party or not?” I could feel pissed off changing rapidly into blind fury.

  “Because they never got to!” Robbie shouted, pointing at the wall. “And they’ll never have the chance to.” He composed himself. “This is so much more than just you and Brad. You have to know that, right?”

  I hadn’t, but I was starting to.

  BRAD

  IN shock, I watched Kyle walk into his house.

  I know he said he wasn’t mad at me, but as I stood there wishing he would come out again, it sure felt like I had fucked up. When it was obvious he wasn’t going to come back out, I got into my car and took off. The thought of ditching school for the day crossed my mind, but all I would end up doing would be going nuts wanting to call Kyle about a hundred times and forcing myself to stop. I might as well sit in school and hope it distracted me. I was halfway to my first class when Jennifer found me in the hall.

  “What the hell happened?” she asked without even a hello. I gave her a confused look, since my mind was still standing outside of Kyle’s door instead of in the hall talking to her. “At the diner?” she prompted me. “Everyone is yakking about it, but no one knows what happened.”

  As we headed toward class, I talked her through our run-in with Tony’s father. She seemed to be more shocked at what happened than I did, beca
use when I got to Kyle losing his mind over having the Coke dropped on him, she stopped and pulled out her cell.

  “Who are you calling?” I asked her, wondering when the day had wandered off the reservation.

  She held a finger up to me, which was Jennifer for “shut the fuck up, I am on the phone.” “Robbie?” she asked into the phone. “Kyle got his clothes ruined by some homophobe at Nancy’s last night.” Whoever the hell Robbie was said something because she nodded and said, “Yeah, I thought the same thing. Hold on.” She looked at me. “What’s Kyle’s address?”

  “What?” I practically choked. “Why would I give his address to someone I don’t know?”

  She sighed and gave me her “don’t be stupid, Brad” look. “You are giving it to me, and I am giving it to a friend. Trust me, Brad. I’ll explain it all to you in class.”

  I did trust her, which was much more of a surprise than I thought it would be. In spite of everything that had happened between us, a lot of which I’d caused, I knew I could trust Jennifer. So I gave her the address, and she rattled it off to whoever Robbie was. “Okay. Call me back,” she told him and then hung up. “We’re going to be late. I’ll tell you during study period.” I followed her into the classroom in the same way Alice followed that stupid rabbit down its hole.

  Wow. I managed to make that sound filthy.

  We waited for class to start and for the teacher to get going before we decided to “talk.” I am not sure how kids back in the day talked in class, but I don’t think I could have managed without cells. Jennifer and I had long ago become pretty adept at sending messages to each other without anyone even knowing we were typing. So when I felt my phone vibrate, I knew our conversation had started.

  Jennifer: Robbie owns that consignment store off of East

  Ah, now it clicked. Robbie was the….

  Wow, I was about to say fag. After everything I had gone through, my kneejerk reaction was to call the guy a fag. Guess it’s true: the more things change, the more they stay the same. I’m sure I didn’t give any outside reaction, but I felt like shit nonetheless.

  Robbie was this older gay guy who owned a fancy secondhand store off of East. Jennifer and her friends lived in that place, though the guy had always kind of bugged me. Looking back, it was probably because I was afraid he would somehow be able to sense what was inside me and expose me. That, and the guy had a pretty big mouth on him, and it just rubbed me the wrong way.

  Brad: So what does he have 2 do with Kyle?

  I felt that same gnawing fear in my gut I had felt when Kyle left me standing outside. Logically I knew I had nothing to worry about, but the thought of another gay guy talking to Kyle kind of drove me nuts.

  Jennifer: I took him 2 meet him & 2 buy an outfit 4 The Party.

  I tried not to laugh that she shortcut the words “to” and “for,” but took the time to capitalize The Party.

  Brad: And??

  She took her time answering, which meant it was probably more complex than a text could convey.

  Jennifer: U wouldn’t understand, those clothes meant a lot to Kyle.

  She was wrong. I did understand that. What I didn’t understand was why it had affected him so much that he didn’t want to be around me. Which, thinking about it, meant I didn’t actually understand it.

  Brad: I’m confused.

  She looked at me and gave me a smile.

  Jennifer: U never worried about how U looked. Robbie will get Kyle straightened out.

  Brad: What does looks have 2 do w/it? Kyle is cute @ fck.

  Jennifer: U do know Kyle doesn’t know that right?

  I did but I couldn’t connect that fact with Kyle’s reaction at all.

  Brad: I still don’t get it.

  Jennifer: Those clothes were the 1st time he felt attractive. And they got ruined in public.

  Brad: That’s not Kyle’s fault!

  Jennifer: Brad, it doesn’t matter. Trust me, he was crushed.

  He was crushed, and I missed that? My girlfriend, who had known Kyle for a total of one day, knew he was crushed, and the guy who was supposed to be in love with him was clueless? What the fuck?

  Brad: Was I that bad a boyfriend to U?

  She gave me a sad smile.

  Jennifer: Have U ever, 4 1 second ever once worried that people would think U were ugly?

  I thought about it and shook my head at her.

  Jennifer: Then trust me, U don’t get it. Kyle will B fine.

  I did trust her, but I still felt like a pile of crap.

  For the rest of the class, I sat there and thought about it. Was there something wrong with me? She was right. I had never once worried about how I looked or if people thought I was ugly or not. I was always too worried they’d see the gay inside me and be far more repulsed. Was I stuck up? Did everyone know I was stuck up?

  When the bell rang I got up, and Jennifer and I walked out together. Turning to her, I asked, “Am I that fucked up of a person?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “No.” She put a hand on my cheek. “You just have no idea how insanely beautiful you are to other people. You’re like a millionaire who has no idea what money problems are like to the rest of the world. You just have never had to worry about it.”

  I knew she was trying to give me a compliment, but it just made me feel worse.

  “We’re going to be late for next period,” I said, looking at the clock.

  “I have Prom Committee,” she said, heading off the other way. “Meet you on the steps for lunch?” I nodded. “Smile. He’s going to be fine.”

  I smiled, but it was just one more mask on top of the others.

  I sat alone in my next class and tried to pay attention. Of course, concentration off the ball field had never been my strong point, so my thoughts drifted to where they normally stopped. Toward hating myself a little more. I honestly could not connect to the emotion Kyle was feeling over the diner. So we knew Tony learned to be an asshole from his father. What did it matter? They were just clothes. People can always get new clothes.

  I felt like Pinocchio without my cute, shaggy-haired cricket telling me what was right and wrong. I laughed at the visual, but I realized I had felt that way for most of my life, like I was just a person-shaped thing going through the motions without understanding what everything was about. I had built a wall around myself a long time ago to protect me from what other people thought. It had started with my dad and his constant berating of me and my failures at being what he wanted in a son, from picking baseball over football to being gay. To survive I had long ago removed my feelings from the equation, and now I was worried I might have gone too far.

  But everyone I knew had done that to survive, sooner or later. Of course, that was what made everyone I had called friends jaded and stuck-up douchebags, but I understood why it had to be done. From the way Jennifer was talking, though, I thought I had done something different. I hadn’t just walled off my emotions but buried them somewhere I couldn’t get to anymore, and the thought of that scared the hell out of me.

  I wandered off toward the quad, my mind a million miles away.

  “Um, Brad?” a voice asked from behind me.

  I turned around and saw the girl with blue hair Kyle was talking to yesterday running up to me. “Hey….” I searched for her name.

  “Sammy,” she said, saving me from saying something stupid.

  “Right, sorry. I’m bad with names,” I said lamely.

  She paused for a moment and then asked, “Who has the record for most stolen bases on the Rangers?”

  “Bump Willis,” I answered automatically.

  “And behind him?” she asked.

  “Toby Harrah,” I said in a defeated voice.

  “So you are great with names. Let’s not start lying to each other so soon, okay?” She didn’t sound angry, but it was obvious she was calling me on my bullshit.

  I sighed and nodded, holding out my hand. “Hi, I’m Brad and you are Sammy.”

  S
he took my hand and shook it. “Pleasure to meet you again, Brad. Where’s Kyle?”

  I laughed at the complete lack of pause she took before asking me about Kyle. “He took a mental health day,” I answered neutrally.

  “I heard he got jumped at Nancy’s.” Her tone wasn’t openly accusatory, but she obviously didn’t fully trust my answer.

  “There was an incident.” I wasn’t sure how much Kyle wanted people to know about what happened, but I knew I wasn’t going to be the one spreading rumors.

  I expected her to just walk away or to at least let it go. Instead, she took a step into my face and pointed one finger up at me. “Look, dude, if you don’t start telling me what happened to Kyle, I will find a way to kick your ass. No joke.”

  The girl was five-foot-nothing and maybe a buck-oh-five soaking wet, and still I believed she would find a way to hurt me. Luckily we didn’t need to find out because Jennifer walked up. “What’s going on?” she asked, concerned.

  “Something happened with Kyle and this jackass won’t tell me if he’s okay,” Sammy replied, never taking her attention off me.

  “Why didn’t you just tell her?” Jennifer snapped as she smacked me in the chest.

  “What’d I do?” I sputtered.

  “Come on,” Jennifer said, taking Sammy’s arm. “Let’s grab some food, and I’ll fill you in.” Both of them shot me a dirty look as they walked off.

  “And this is why I am gay,” I said to myself, more confused than ever. I waited until they were out of sight before pulling out my cell. I pushed Kyle’s number and waited. On the third ring, he picked up. He sounded like he was eating. “Hey!” he said excitedly. “How’s your day?”