Johnny's head was spinning. He wandered into the boy's lavatory, the one that no one ever used, in the small corridor leading to the janitor's supply closet. He didn't need the loo. He just needed to pull himself together. Doctor Stamford had just pulled him aside and told him that if he didn't start improving his grades, his chances of getting into Bart's teaching hospital after high school were slim indeed.
He ran the cold tap and splashed his sweating face. Pull yourself together, Johnny, he told himself. There's nothing wrong with you. Just keep it together.
But hard as he tried, Johnny couldn't keep a hold on his feelings. First his parents kicked his sister out of the house, leaving him confused and alone. Then things at home start falling apart. Always with the fighting. Then, he isn't allowed to be friends with his best mate, on completely false accusations of drug using. And now, the icing on the cake: if you can't get your grades up, you can't go to your first choice teaching hospital.
Johnny was angry. So very, very enraged. He felt helpless, like the forces of nature were working against him. God was pushing him down, right in the mud, just like the children did when he was younger. Everyone always holding him back, looking him over, putting him down. It was almost too mu-
Bang!
The door to the loo burst open and to the floor fell an underclassmen, followed by a goon Johnny recognized as Charles Magnussen.
"Stay down, Moriarty!" Magnussen hissed at the boy on the ground.
"P-please stop!" begged the boy. Neither of them seemed to notice Johnny at first. Johnny, upon a closer look, recognized the boy on the floor as not an underclassman at all, but a fellow third-year, Jimmy Moriarty.
"Leave him be!" Johnny warned, his anger and self-hatred forgotten for the moment. He recognized Magnussen as a fourth-year, one who nobody liked.
"'Leave him be!'" Magnussen mimicked in a falsetto voice. "Or what, Watson?"
"Or I'll give you a taste of your own medicine, that's what!" Johnny told him.
"Ooh, I'm scared." Magnussen laughed. He looked down at poor Jimmy, frozen in fear on the dirty floor, and kicked him right in the stomach. Jimmy doubled over, clutching his stomach, and gurgled in pain. Johnny could see his ears were scarlet.
"Magnussen!" Johnny growled, taking a step closer and rolling up the sleeve of his right arm.
Magnussen smiled at Johnny and kicked Jimmy again, hard, without even looking at him. A piteous grunt erupted from Jimmy's throat followed by several coughs and dry heaves.
Johnny's vision went black and all he knew was his fist smashing Magnussen in the face, breaking his glasses and scraping his jaw felt good. Really good. But then the pair were a tangle on the floor, a struggle for dominance. Magnussen may have been bigger than Johnny, but Johnny was stronger.
Someone must have heard the commotion within, because no sooner had Johnny tasted blood in his mouth than had he been pried off of Magnussen and held back by strong arms.
"What the bloody hell is going on in here?"
"Magnussen was attacking Jimmy!" Johnny blurted.
"It's true," Jimmy choked. "Johnny was defending me."
"Lies!" Magnussen spat, struggling against the authority holding him back. "I came to use the toilets and, well, I dare not say, professors. It's rather improper!"
"Speak, lad!" demanded Magnussens' authority. "Well, Sir, to be quite honest, I witnessed Watson and Moriarty here engaging in acts of an unspeakable nature. You understand, Sir, don't you? Saw it with my own eyes. When I called them out, Watson leapt at me. Broke my glasses. Said if I told anyone, he'd break my nose!"
"That's not true! Johnny shouted desperately. 'Acts of unspeakable nature?!' Johnny thought to himself. That was utter rubbish!
"Let's get you lot to the headmaster's office. We can sort it all out there."
Johnny, Jimmy, and Magnussen sat in a row along a long conference table. Before them, on the other side, sat the two teacher that had broken up the scuffle in the lavatory and none other than a very displeased Headmaster himself.
"Mister Moriarty, you can start first," the headmaster said.
Jimmy gulped, and then blushed furiously. The headmaster raised an eyebrow.
"It goes like this, Sir," Jimmy started shakily. "I was walking along, minding' my own, you see, when I was shoved into the loo by Magnussen."
"Why?" asked the Headmaster.
"Dunno," Jimmy said. "Why's anyone do anything? Fellows like him don't like fellows like me. So's I was on the floor, helpless, when by God there was Johnny here. Said if Magnussen didn't leave me, he'd 'give him a taste of his own medicine.'"
Johnny nodded fervently in agreement.
"But Magnussen kicked me all the same. Twice. Right in the belly. Almost lost me lunch, I did."
The Headmaster rubbed the back of his neck, a sign of irritation. He heaved a heavy sigh.
"Now tell me your bit, Mister Watson."
"I was washing my face, Sir, in the lav, I was washing my face when the door flung open and Jimmy landed on the floor. Magnussen told him to stay put there. I...I didn't mean to lose control, but I just got so angry. Magnussen kicked Jimmy once in the stomach, and I told him to stop or else I'd have a go at him. Just like Jimmy said. But Magnussen didn't care, because he looked me right in the eye and kicked him again! Same place! I lost control of myself, Sir. I'm not proud. I know if I tried I could've just used my words to convince Magnussen to stop."
Johnny was truly ashamed. He felt out of control lately, and this just proved how bad it really was.
"Magnussen?" the Headmaster continued. His was the story he least wanted to hear and so it was saved for last.
"I'd like to start by apologizing for the words I'm about to say," Magnussen said. "I've never been more embarrassed, Sir."
"Get on with it, Magnussen," the headmaster begged.
"Right. I don't normally use the lavatory in that corridor, by the Janitor's cupboard, but I found myself in great need, so I went. I turn the corner and to my horror, Sir, I find Watson and Moriarty, well, embracing, at the far end of the room. Just indecent."
"Keep your comments to yourself. What happened after that?"
"Of course, Sir. I said, 'Oi, what do you two think you're doing?' and Watson came over, mad as a bull, and grabbed me by my shirt and said that if I told anyone what I saw, Sir, he'd make me sorry. But my word wasn't good enough, Sir, he went and broke my glasses anyway. Said if I told, I'd get it worse next time."
The Headmaster looked between the three boys and considered their words carefully. Magnussen, he knew, had a stellar reputation as a student. Top of his class, always polite and respectful, never in any trouble. Watson was much the same, though he recalled a time or two when he and that Holmes boy were in a spot of mischief. Never any real trouble, though. And then there was Moriarty. Little Jimmy. The headmaster looked upon him with pity. Jimmy was much smaller than the other boys. Possible the smallest in the school aside for some first-years. He was a bit late into puberty, given his slight shoulders, lack of muscle, and his hardly broken voice. The headmaster recalled many a time that Jimmy was in this very office, usually a bruise or two from other boys. Jimmy often found himself at the end of someone's boot.
"Here's how this works," the Headmaster said, looking each boy in the eye. "You all know that violence is not tolerated in my school. As such, the evidence is clear that Mister Watson and Mister Magnussen have erred. You will each serve a week's detention and consider yourselves lucky that it's not suspension. I cannot attest to the truth in Mister Magnussen's unsavory accusations, but let it be known that fooling around in school lavatories is strictly prohibited and I dare say that I would be deeply disappointed in you Watson, and you Moriarty, were that true. Now. Mister Moriarty, you are free to leave. I suggest you find yourself to the school nurse and put some ice on that belly."
Johnny was informed his detention would be taking place in the cafeteria after school and he was sent on his way. Johnny caught up with Jimmy at the nurse's office.
"Alright, Jimmy?" Johnny asked.
"Yeah." Jimmy said with a weak smile. "The nurse isn't in, though. Think I'll just have a sit, catch my breath."
"Mind if I join?"
"Please do."
Johnny sat in a chair across from Jimmy.
"Thanks for sticking up for me," Jimmy said.
"Don't mention it. Rubbish what Magnussen said, isn't it?"
"Loads."
"How's your belly?"
Jimmy lifted his shirt and showed a large, purplish splotch across his abdomen. Johnny swore. He took it upon himself to find an ice-pack. It wasn't long before he did, and he wrapped it up in a few paper towels. He knelt before Jimmy and applied the ice-pack to the bruising.
"Johnny, by the looks of this, people will talk." Jimmy said.
"I'm gonna be a doctor one day," Johnny said. "Damn the people that talk. I'm just helping you."
"Silly thing to accuse us of," Jimmy said, stifling a chuckle because it hurt his stomach. "Though, to be fair...were you someone else it may have been true."
"Oh?" Johnny said, looking up at Jimmy. "Oh! So you're...?"
"Don't act so surprised, Johnny. Everyone suspects it."
"If I were you, I wouldn't do any jogging for a day or two," Johnny advised. "It's possible that he really hurt your intestines. I wouldn't eat too heavy, either."
"Thanks, Johnny." Jimmy said with a smile. "You are the kindest person I've ever met."
Johnny shrugged. "It doesn't bother me, by the way," he said. "That you're gay."
"That's mighty decent of you."
"My sister is the same, you know," Johnny continued. "But my parents...they're like Magnussen. They put her out only two months ago. I miss her."
"I'm sorry," Jimmy said.
"Me, too."
There was a long silence. Jimmy was sitting in his chair, holding his hands in his lap, and Johnny still knelt there, holding the ice-pack to his bruise.
"Well, I think if we stay here much longer, we're going to be late for class and we'll both have detention," Moriarty said.
"You're right."
They stood, and Johnny placed the ice-pack in the hand washing sink in the corner. Jimmy fixed his shirt, and turned to Johnny before leaving. He offered him his hand to shake. Johnny accepted.
"You're a good guy," Jimmy said. "I hope I can repay you one day."
"Don't mention it," Johnny said. For all the shame he felt for losing control and beating Magnussen up, it felt good that he helped someone.
Jimmy held the handshake for perhaps a moment longer than necessary. Or perhaps it was Johnny. No one could say for sure. The eye contact was intense, prolonged.
"Your hand is freezing!" Jimmy giggled, trying not to laugh too hard because it still hurt. This struck Johnny was funny, too, and the pair shared a moment of laughter, still shaking hands.
It was safe to say that Charles Magnussen changed their lives that day, because starting just then, Johnny and Jimmy were friends.