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“So, as you can see, the 1920s were quite the decade. You had the cultural change as women began to push for social freedom, as well as the introduction of cars, radios, and talking movies. However, intolerance flared again, with a rush of new members to the ever popular Ku Klux Klan.” Before Mr. Wilson could continue his history lecture, there was a knock on the door. “Excuse me, class.” He opened the door to admit the principal’s assistant followed by a student. They conversed quietly for a moment, then she left.
“All right, guys, this is Darin Greene. He’s new here, obviously. Darin, why don’t you take the seat next to Nigel. Mr. Caron, would you raise your hand?”
I did, not taking my eyes from the young man who took the seat next to me and avoided looking at anyone. His head was slightly bowed, causing his too-long black hair to fall halfway over his eyes, which were ice-blue. He wore faded jeans and a white t-shirt, plus a leather jacket which he had left over the back of the chair in the heat of the classroom. I waited until the bell rang, ten minutes later, and half-heard Mr. Wilson’s plea that we studied for the test on Monday. The students rushed out of the room, eager to escape for the weekend, but I took a few extra minutes putting my notebook in my backpack, pacing with the new guy. “Hi, uh, I’m Nigel.”
He turned to shake my proffered hand and I noticed the two silver hoops in his right ear. “Darin. Nice to meet someone without a pronounced Southern drawl and a sneer.”
I pretended to be shocked. “What? Rednecks? Where?”
He smiled.
“I know what you mean. I’m a wrestler, though, so I fit in with the other jocks.”
“You don’t strike me as a jock.” We were outside now.
I shrugged. “Where are you from?”
“San Francisco.”
“California? What the hell are you doing in bumbfuck, North Carolina, then?”
“I don’t know. Believe me, I don’t want to be here. I’ve never been so uncomfortable…and it’s not just the whole cross-country move thing.”
“I’ve lived here most of my life and I still know what you mean.” Before he could answer me, a petite girl with bouncy brown hair and a cheerful disposition hurried up to me.
“Hey, Nigel!”
“Hi, Sam. What’s up?” She attached herself to my arm and kissed my cheek. “Darin, my girlfriend, Sam.”
“Hi, Darin.”
Darin nodded at Sam, but I noticed a slight darkening of his eyes. Don’t worry, I thought, I’ll explain. “Sam, I’m going to give Darin a ride home. I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah, sure, Nigel. See you.”
“Bye.” She skipped off and I directed Darin to my car.
“You don’t mind giving me a ride?”
“No. Why would I?”
“It just seems that everyone’s kind of…well, never mind.”
“No. What?”
“Well, they seemed kind of wary of me.”
“Darin, most of them have never seen a gay person in real life.”
“What?” He looked at me, trying to look indignant, but I saw a bit of fear in his eyes. “What makes you think that I’m - I mean…”
“My gaydar is excellent. You’re obviously not very used to closeting yourself. It’s ok, though, I won’t beat you up or anything.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” he said, sarcastically. “Why would you think I need to be closeted?”
“Darin, give it up. This is one of the most homophobic areas of the country. And you advertised very clearly today, unconsciously. You need to do a better job.”
“I don’t want to do a better job,” he admitted. “I don’t want to hide myself.”
“I know. Believe me, I know.” My words were heartfelt. “But I can show you how to.”
“How would you know? You have a girlfriend.”
“I told you I knew what to do. Besides, Sam is my best friend. She’s dating me to dispel rumors.”
“What kind of rumors?”
“Rumors involving a friend at wrestling camp that was more than a friend.”
“And was he?”
I grinned at him. “Perhaps you’ll find out sometime.” I stopped when he ordered me to, but he didn’t get out of the car, just looked at me.
“Do you think that -“
“What?”
“Well, never mind.” He opened his door and started to climb out.
“Wait. Do you want to…I mean, I can help you catch up and make sure you’re in the right place in history and stuff…maybe tomorrow night?”
“I’d love to, but…I promised my siblings I’d take them to an Asheville Tourists game tomorrow.”
“Oh. Ok.” I couldn’t help but feel sort of…dejected.
“You could come with us. I’ve got four younger brothers and a younger sister. I could use the help.” His voice was steady, but his eyes were eager. I sure as hell wasn’t going to say no.
“I’d love to.”
“Great! Pick you up at noon. It’s a double header. And thanks for the ride home.” He shut the door and waved, then headed up the walk.
“My pleasure,” I muttered to no one as I pulled off. I drove slowly home, not feeling eager to arrive there. Dad was home. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my father - but…he was pretty strict. I hadn’t pulled up my report card grade from a B+ in English, so he’d probably want to lecture me. Probably then he’d want to hit me. I couldn’t complain that much though. Sure, my dad was a disciplinarian, but we had plenty of money. I had my own car, computer, and Internet line, and my dad bought me everything I needed. I knew I deserved punishment sometimes, and it was my fault he got so angry, anyway. Resigning myself to the inevitable, I parked the car and went into the house.
My mom greeted my at the door when I came in. “Hey, honey. How was the first day?”
“It could’ve been worse, I guess. I met a couple of cool people. But…”
“It’s ok, Darin, I understand. It’s just not the same atmosphere, is it?”
“I guess not.”
“So who gave you a ride home? I hope you can find a usual ride, I’ll need the car for work.”
“Oh, just a guy in my history class. He’s going with us to the baseball game tomorrow.”
“Really? Like a date?”
“No, Mother, not like a date. He’s just a friend.”
She leaned in conspiratorially. “So, is he cute?”
I rolled my eyes and laughed, heading up the stairs to my room. I collapsed on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The thing was, he was very cute. And I was very interested.
The next day, I pushed one of my 13-year-old brothers to the back seat so Nigel could ride shotgun. He came out the front door with a backpack slung casually over one shoulder, wearing jeans and a skin tight black t-shirt with a jacket. “Hi,” he said, settling into the seat. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“No problem. Let’s see, the thirteen-year-old terrors there are Sean and Corey,” I indicated towards the twins. “The next youngest is Dean at 11, Morgan at 10, and that’s Kyle.”
“I’m 8,” Kyle informed Nigel seriously.
“Guys, this is Nigel. Be nice or you’re walking home.” They all smiled angelically and returned to books, CD players, and game boys, leaving Nigel and I free to speak. I glanced over at him and noticed a darkening of one cheekbone. “How’d that happen?”
He raised a hand and brushed it gently. “Oh…I tripped over our cat. Hit a wall.” It wasn’t very smooth, but he seemed nervous so I didn’t push it.
“’kay…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say.
“So…do you play any sports or anything?”
“Um, actually, I dance. Ballet, mostly, but I like the contemporary stuff.”
“Really? That’s cool. Tights, huh?”
I snorted. “Like you can talk. What are those things wrestlers wear?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Were you…good?”
Kyle stuck his head between the seats. “My brother was the best dancer in California!”
Nigel looked at me, eyebrows raised. “Really?”
“Uh-“
“Yeah,” continued Morgan, brushing her red hair out of her face. “He won a contest and everything.”
“All right, guys, that’s enough!”
“But Darin, we’re just trying to help you impress your boyfriend!” I glared at him, and Dean returned to his reading. I looked up, to see Nigel watching me out of the corner of his eye. He looked rather pleased.
“Sorry,” I apologized to him.
“It’s ok. So, your family knows and everything?”
“What? Oh, yeah, since I was like 13. My mom’s pretty cool. I take you’re still firmly closeted?”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “My dad would kill me.” The last was nearly inaudible, but it made me wonder even more about the bruise. He turned to stare out the window, and I returned my full attention to the highway.
It took about 30 minutes, once we arrived, to get everyone ticketed and seated with cokes and programs. The first inning was nearly at an end, but we still had a lot of baseball to go. Nigel hadn’t really spoken since our car conversation. “Hey, Nigel, I’m sorry if I said anything to offend you-“
He made a vague attempt at a smile, but his words were sincere. “It’s ok, really, I’m just sort of distracted. Do you think the pitcher’s cute? Greensboro’s?”
“Mmm…yeah, but I like Asheville’s center fielder better.”
“Gonna be a good game,” he predicted.
I just smiled.
By the end of the day, I thought I was a step away from falling in love with the guy. We went out for pizza after watching the Tourists get creamed the first game and d the eek out a narrow victory in the evening game. Darin was great with his brothers and sister, and they obviously adore him. Even the twins, at an age when family is uncool, regarded him with the utmost respect. This was all of extreme interest to me, being from a family far from close-knit. He took them home first, before driving me the ten minutes to my house. “I had a good time.”
“Really? Kids and all?”
“Especially kids and all.” He looked adorable, smiling at me, so I decided to do something rather impulsive. I brought my hand up to cup his jaw and kissed him. He seemed surprised, but kissed me back until I broke it, and whispered, “See you Monday,” in his ear, then stepped out of the warmth of the car and into the harsh brightness of my house.
I was intoxicated with Nigel Caron by the time I got home. I answered my mom’s questions about the kids’ behavior at the game, and whether we had a good time, but the whole time, the only thing I was thinking was he kissed me. Sweetly and seductively and damn it why did he have to do that! Before that I was perfectly content with him as a friend, but now there was no way that was going to happen. Now I want more than a friend out of him. If I didn’t know better than to think so, I’d believe it was nearly love. Damn it. I didn’t sleep until late, but my dreams were filled with thoughts of one person.
Mom woke me at 9 the next morning. “Darin, I’m going to take the kids to Sunday school. I’ll be back for you at 10:30.”
I pushed myself to an upright position and looked at her. “Mom. I don’t believe in-“
“I know, honey, just today. The first time we go to this new church. I won’t make you again.”
I sighed, but decided compromise. “Fine, Mom. But we’re not in contemporary Christian country anymore. The church our neighbors recommended will probably be Southern Baptist. They make just one comment that I can take personally and I’m leaving.”
“Fine, dear. And I promise that if you have to leave, we’ll try somewhere else next week. Deal?”
“Ok.”
“Be back in a while.”
She left, and I collapsed for a few more moments before leaving the warmth of my bed for the shower. Mom was back right on the dot, as she said she would be, and I got in without complaint. I was glad I hadn’t, because she led us to sit right next to none other than Nigel Caron. I sat down next to him, and he grinned brightly at me for an instant before directing his attention back to the front. On his right hand side was a large, stoic man, presumably his father. The man eyed my mom and me disdainfully and glared at his son a moment before turning back to listen as well. Halfway into the service, the minister insisted we pray that the good voters of California overturn a bill to allow same-sex marriages. Without a word, I rose and stalked out, and my mom let me go silently.
Surprisingly, the first person to find me sitting behind an oak in the lot next to the church was Nigel. He sat down beside me and entwined his fingers with mine. “Are you ok?”
I appreciated his effort. “Yeah. I’ve hated church since I was about 10. I’ve been an atheist since I was 12. I just went for my mom, but she lets me leave if they get offensive.”
“I…I really hate being there.”
“Really? You looked pretty devout.”
“My dad makes me go.” He turned his eyes downward and I squeezed his hand.
“’m sorry,” I murmured, knowing my words wouldn’t matter.
“Thanks, anyway.” I was glad he understood. “Darin? Can I…kiss you?”
I’d hoped. “Nigel, need you even ask? But we’re on church grounds, won’t you be condemned to hell?”
He shut me up by pressing his lips expertly to mine. “I’ve already got a penthouse lined up,” he returned, and I opened my mouth to allow his tongue to explore. After about half a second, he had me completely breathless. When he finally broke it took me a moment to recover.
“Shit, Nigel,” I breathed. “Where the hell did you learn to do that?”
He just smirked. “You’re not bad, yourself. I’ve gotta go before my dad’s done talking.” He kissed me quickly one more time, then scrambled to his feet and brushed off his dress pants before strolling casually out of sight. I stayed right where I was, a pile of goo against the base of the huge oak, my head lolling back. I breathed deeply, then exhaled and pushed myself to my feet, making sure Nigel was completely out of seat before making my way back to Mom, Sean, Corey, Dean, Morgan, and Kyle.
Sam looked strangely at me as I sat across from her and played with my food. I was eating lunch with her as I did every Sunday afternoon.
“What’s up with you, Nige? You seem very…distracted.”
I looked up at her, smiling. “I am.”
She opened her mouth. “You…you look very…infatuated.”
“Oh, I am.”
“With who? Oh, don’t tell me!”
“Yep. I kissed him. Three times.”
“You kissed him,” she squealed, nearly bouncing in her seat. She reached over to give me a high-five, and I couldn’t help but absorb some of her enthusiasm. “So…” she drawled, “are you two an item?”
I sobered a bit. “Well, not officially, Sam, you know that. My dad…” I trailed off and shuddered, and I knew she understood.
“Not to worry, then. Officially I’m still your girlfriend.”
“Thanks a lot, Sam. I really appreciate that you do that.”
“You’re my best friend, Nige. You helped me through some tough times in my life, I can only do the same for you.” I kissed her on the cheek and paid for our lunches, then headed home to get some work done for class tomorrow. I found I had a very hard time concentrating when my mind was on only a pair of beautiful blue eyes.
I dialed the number from memory. I hadn’t talked to Jakob, my best friend, since I’d left for North Carolina. He was a year older than me, a freshman at Berkley, but we’d always been in the same dance classes. His boyfriend, Matt, answered the phone.
“Hey, Matt. It’s Darin. Is Jake around?”
“What’s up, man? Good to hear from you! Yeah, he’s around here somewhere. Just a sec.”
A moment later, Jake picked up the phone. “Darin! So…how’s Spruce Pine?”
“Well…the people are horrible, redneck mostly, the most homophobic group you’ll ever run into. The church prayed that you guys would vote against the same-sex marriage law…but, I met the greatest guy…”
“Already? You move fast, man. Is this a fantasy guy, or is he actually within reach.”
“Oh, he’s beyond in reach. He’s kissed me already.”
“Well, congratulations. So, tell me about him.”
“Mmm…his hair’s reddish, but dark, and his eyes are the most beautiful hazel…ya know, the kind with orange specks. Wild eyes. He wrestles, so he’s got the body of…oh, I don’t even know what…” Jake listened with laughs and advice before excusing himself, at his boyfriend’s urgings. It was nice talking to him, though. Jakob was really more of a brother, since all he has are older siblings and all of mine are younger. It was a nice arrangement. He also taught me the first things about sex when I was 13 and starting to explore and accept the fact that I wasn’t really into girls. I smiled at the old memories, then settled down and opened my Chemistry book, trying to ascertain if the new school was anywhere near the point of my old one. I found the chemistry to be quite easy, but I fell asleep with my history book open.
School was weird the next day. Nigel nodded politely at me from his group of friends, and Sam grinned shyly when she saw me pass. Neither spoke though, and I spent the first two class periods trying to figure out what was going on. Near the end of history class, during which Nigel sat next to me without acknowledging my presence, I was really starting to wonder. Finally, though, he slipped me a note saying to meet him in the bathroom ten minutes into the next class. Wondering about the secrecy, I went and the directed time. A few moments after me, Nigel rushed in. He immediately pinned me against the wall, pressing his lips to mine. “I’ve been waiting all day to do that.”
I relaxed under his touch, glad that nothing was wrong. “What was going on?”
“I can’t afford to get myself outed, Darin. It would kill me, socially, and if it didn’t my father would. You understand.”
“Right…we can at least be acquaintances, can’t we?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, Darin. I’m just…”
I put my arms around his neck and pulled him closer, and he brought his eyes up to meet mine. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, Nigel. I don’t want to push you.”
“Thank you. I was afraid you were mad.”
“Not a chance,” he accepted another deep kiss from me.
“I need to get back to class.”
“Yeah, me too. I have dance class this afternoon. You don’t want to come, do you?”
“Sure, I’d love to.” He squeezed my hand with a beautiful smile and left. After a few moments, I returned to my class as well, somehow unable to concentrate on the properties of Ohm’s Law.
As it turned out, his mom got word she had to begin work immediately, so I offered to take him to Boone. His breathing was kind of quick as we went inside. “Are you nervous?”
“No. Why?” I gave him a look, and he relinquished. “Well, maybe a little. I’m out of practice, a bit, and I don’t want to look stupid.”
“You, my friend, will never look stupid. Even in those obscenely tight pant-things they make you wear.”
“Somehow I don’t think you’d mind those.” He quipped.
“Somehow, I think you’re probably right.” I allowed, before leaving for the observation room. They were doing warm ups when a guy I’d never seen before sat down next to me.
“So…you here for a girl or a guy?”
I looked up suddenly from where my gaze had settled on Darin. “Oh, uh…”
His eyes followed the path mine had been on and he grinned. “Yeah, he’s a good-looking one. You’re lucky, man. I’ve never seen you here before, and I come watch Eric all the time. Where are you from?”
“We’re from a couple counties over. Darin hasn’t - I mean, I…”
“Ah, a new relationship, then? If you have any questions, especially if this is your first one, Eric and I have been together since we were 12. A damn long time, in other words.”
“Thanks.” I was kind of put off by the stranger’s interest in my personal life, but he seemed friendly enough. “And who are you, by the way?”
“Daniel Fletcher. Call me Dan.”
“Well Dan, it’s nice to meet you.” I shook his hand and directed my attention back the boy I’d actually come to watch. Really, though, it was nice to meet someone else. I’d tolerated my friends’ gay jokes for years, and they hit especially hard now. Perhaps being in the room with people to whom it didn’t matter would be good for me. Darin was, true to his siblings’ words, very good. At least, that’s what Dan told me, and he seemed to be much more of an expert than I. We ate afterwards, at a place called Mel’s Diner.
“So, did you enjoy that?”
“Very much. You’re quite good.”
He looked down, but looked pleased. “Thank you. And thank you for bringing me out here. I need to get a job or something, and find a piece of shit car. Just one won’t do it.”
We were mostly silent on the ride home, sitting in comfortable silence as I pulled up to Darin’s house. “Thanks again for the ride.”
“My pleasure. Really.” He laughed and pulled me closer for a kiss that I gratefully accepted and returned. “’night.”
So of course, I was pretty happy as I came through the front door. I sobered very quickly, however, at my father’s shadow in the doorway. “Nigel.”
“Hi, Dad.”
“Where have you been?”
“I was out with a friend. I called Mom.”
“Who?”
“You don’t know him, Dad.”
“I thought I knew all your friends.”
“He just moved here. Name’s Darin Greene.”
“Nigel, that wouldn’t happen to be the fag that sat next to us in church, would it.”
“No! I mean, yes, but…he’s not a fag.” I made sure to make the term derogatory, trying to get him off my back.
Instead, he backhanded me sharply. “Don’t talk back to me.”
I bowed my head, hatred burning in my eyes. “Yes, sir.”
He grabbed my hair to jerk my head up. “I don’t want you associating with people like that, Nigel! I don’t want them trying anything with you.”
“Yes, sir.” He let go of me and wondered off, allowing me to escape to my room to shake. I couldn’t hate my own father…could I?
The next few months passed pretty smoothly. Life was good, overall. I mean, no relationship is perfect, but Nigel and I were pretty close. I got a job as a desk clerk at the hospital where Mom worked, and I continued dancing. They had me teaching the little kids now, apparently I grew out of their lessons. Last week I went down to Asheville, and as it turns out there’s an open audition for a New York dance academy there, in two days. And while Nigel is probably the best thing in my life, he also presents the biggest problem. His family still is unaware of his orientation, and of me. He planned to remain firmly closeted through college, even, to avoid his father’s wrath. I guess I understand, but being from San Francisco, it was never a big deal to me. At any rate, I was wholly unprepared for him to show up at 11 on a Wednesday night. I opened the door with, “Nigel, what are you doing-“
“Darin -“ Nigel staggered through the door and collapsed onto me. In the light, I was shocked at his appearance. Both eyes were blackened, and the right one was swollen completely shut. He was bleeding from his lip and nose, and one side of his head was soaked with blood, and one arm was wrapped protectively around his ribs. He was soaked from the pouring rain outside, and the wetness quickly seeped through my clothes. Pressed tightly against me, I could feel his shaking. “Darin,” he sighed.
Still in shock, I sank to the ground, cradling him to my chest. “Nigel, what happened? You have to talk to me, babe.”
“Head hurts, Darin. Hurts to breathe.”
Of course it did. I pulled him to his feet and mostly carried him into the living room. I stripped him of his wet and bloody clothes and covered him with a blanket, then retreated for some towels and water. I got the blood off his face and head, but even I could tell that his uneven pupils and inability to articulate clearly indicated a concussion. “Nigel, you need to get to a hospital.”
“No, not to a hospital, Darin. Just…let me stay here. Please.”
“Why?”
He whispered, almost inaudible. “Because he’ll go there.”
My heart froze. “Who, Nigel?”
“Him…my dad.”
My eyes flooded with tears for him, and pulled off my own wet shirt and sat beside him, holding him again. “I’m so sorry, Nigel. It’ll be ok, babe, it will. You’ll get through this. I still love you, Nige.”
“He…He,” his breath hitched painfully, “he found out. He threw me out. He’s…Oh, god, Darin, what am I going to do?”
“Shh, babe. You need to rest. Come on, we’ll go upstairs.” I helped him to his feet and winced every time he did during the trek. He sighed in relief as I eased him into my bed. “Better?”
“Mm. Still cold, though.” He was right, and his shaking was still visible. Doing the only logical thing, I stripped and crawled into bed next to him, holding him tightly, my lips brushing his ear.
“It really will be ok, Nigel. We’ll worry tomorrow. I’ll be here, the whole time.”
“I love you, Darin.”
“Love you too, babe.” I knew he had a head injury and shouldn’t sleep, but I didn’t know what else to do to comfort him. So I didn’t worry about that, just pressed my cheek into the curve of his neck and soldier and drifted into oblivion with him.
I woke up, confused and in pain. It took me several beats to register the warm body next to me, as well as to isolate the pain to my ribs and head. Then everything rushed back to me.
“I spoke to Ray Thomas today.” His voice was low, menacing, and my heart skipped a beat.
“Yeah, so?” I regretted my mouth immediately, as he grabbed my color and slammed me into the wall.
“He said he saw you in the bathroom.”
Oh no. Oh, God, please, no…I silently begged, but no one listened. He hit me in the face, and not with an open hand this time. “Tell me it’s not true!”
“I don’t - I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Another blow, this time to my stomach.
“Yes you do! You’re a fucking faggot, boy! The Thomas boy saw you with your tongue down another boy’s throat and your hand down another boy’s pants. You care to explain that?” Another blow. I could feel blood dripping from my nose. “How could you do this to me! My only son, a fag!” Each statement was punctuated by more fists, raining on me. I was on the floor now, curled up, futilely trying to protect myself from the blows. My own tears mixed with the blood on my face.
He pulled me up, staring into my face. “Why, Nigel? How could you do this to me?”
I said the only thing I could think of, and the only thing I shouldn’t have. “I love him, Dad.”
“You love him. You love him! You sick - twisted - disgusting little…pervert!” And he opened the front door. He pushed me out, and my head struck the brick steps, causing me to cry out.
“Dad - no! Please, please, don’t do this to me!”
“Nigel, I do not ever want to see you on my doorstep again. You will burn in hell, Nigel, for this. And you are no longer my son.” He slammed the door in my face and my tears.
I gasped and came back to the present. Beside me, Darin sat up and leaned over me. “Nigel, Nigel, are you ok?”
I sighed, shuddering, and buried my face in his chest, feeling his strong arms encircle me. “No. God no, I’m not ok. I don’t think I’ll ever be ok. Darin, what am I going to do?”
He paused a long time before speaking, his voice vibrating against my scalp. “I don’t know, babe. I’m so sorry, but I don’t know!”
We were quiet for a long time, feeding off each other’s warmth. “Do you still hurt, Nige?”
“Everywhere,” I murmured. “Head, ribs…heart.”
He held me tighter, pressing soft kisses into my hair. “You need to see a doctor, babe.”
“No hospital. I hate hospitals. Your mom’s a doctor.”
“She gets home at noon. The kids will be gone all day. I figured a day from school won’t hurt either of us.” He released me, pushing me gently back down, and kissed me deeply. “Stay here and rest. You should eat. And I’ll get ice and something for the pain.” And he left.
I drifted back towards sleep, but was awakened by his kiss. “Hey, I got you something for the pain. Codeine ok?”
“More than ok.” I took the pills and downed them with a glass of water. “Thank you.”
He gave me an ice pack, which I gently placed over the more swollen of my eyes and lay back down, while he sat in a chair by the bed. “When Mom gets home, can I have her look at you? I don’t…I mean, I…I just want to make sure you’re ok.”
“Yeah. I think I’ll get some more sleep. Codeine knocks me out.” I closed the eye I wasn’t icing. He didn’t leave for awhile, I could feel his presence, strong and comforting. He was quiet, though, except for the occasional hitch in his breathing which he tried to hide and I tried to ignore. Finally, though, he slipped quietly outside, convinced I was asleep.
After I left Nigel’s - my - room, I went to the bathroom. I took a long, hot shower, washing away his blood and all traces of my tears. Feeling better, I went downstairs and cleaned the dried blood from the kitchen floor. When my Mom walked in about 1, I was sitting at the table in sweats and no shirt, clutching a still-warm cup of tea. “Darin, honey, are you sick? Why aren’t you at school?”
“No, Mom, I’m not sick. I need to talk to you.”
“What’s wrong, Darin?” She sat across from me, worry and fear in her eyes.
“It’s not about me. Well, it is about me, but not really. I need you to examine someone.”
“Who? Is it about Nigel?” I knew my red eyes gave her the answer. I knew her mother and her doctor sense picked up on at least the emotional abuse doled out by his parents, and she’d gone out of her way to treat him like yet another son. She did that to all my boyfriends, really, except Aaron. And she was right about him anyway, but that’s another story. “What happened?”
I led her upstairs. Nigel was still laying, eyes shut, but I could tell he wasn’t asleep. “Hey, Nige. My mom’s here. Sit up?”
He eased himself to a sitting position, wincing at the movement. “Hi, Dr. Greene.”
Her eyes hardened at his condition, but she examined him gently. “You don’t have a concussion, but I want you to come in for orbital films on your eyes. The cut on your scalp needs stitches. And you’ve got one cracked rib and a lot of bruising. Any blood in your urine?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, if you see any, let me know. We don’t want any kidney problems. Ok?”
“Yeah. So you’re taking me to the hospital?”
“I have to, Nigel. As a doctor, I have to.”
He nodded, then winced again. It was worse than my mom anticipated. He did have an orbital fracture, and some bruising of his kidneys, so they opted to keep him overnight. I opted to stay. When I finally got to sit down alone with him, he was adamant about being by himself. “Darin, you’ve got your audition tomorrow. You have to get a good night’s sleep.”
“I can’t sleep at home, not with you here! Besides, fuck the audition. I won’t leave you here alone.”
“Dare, I’m hardly alone. There are lots of doctors and nurses and,” he paused to roll his eyes, “social workers here to talk to. You have been training for this for months. You are going. Do you know how much gas money I spent taking you to class?”
“Nigel, no-“
However, he grabbed my collar and gently pulled my face down to his. He glared into my eyes. “Darin, yes. You will go. For me, you will go, and you will fucking make it, too. Oh, and you’re taking my car.” And that was it. I went. I danced better than I ever have before.