Note: I do not own Less Than Jake or any of their songs. Go to freetranslation. (no triple w) if you don't understand the French. I suggest using "Free Translation" or "Systran" instead of "Altravista". There's also some strong language near the end of this chapter.

Chapter Ten: Did I Ever Tell You...

I lug my bag down the hallway, my shoulder about to fall to a heap on the floor. Finally getting to my locker, I drop my backpack on the floor and fiddle with my lock. When I get my locker open, I start to switch out my books for the next block of classes, singing that annoying song by Less Than Jake.

"I could be an expert on co-dependency, I could write the best book on underage tragedy. I've been spending my time at the local liquor store, I've been sleeping nightly on my best friend's kitchen floor. So I sit and wait and wonder, 'Does anyone else feel like me?' I'm so overdosed on apathy and put down on sympathy—"

"Like Less Than Jake, do you?" I hear Ashley laugh.

I shake my head. "Hate them, actually. I just have this damn song stuck in my head."

She laughs again as I continue to switch my books. "I have a proposition for you," Ashley states.

"Oh? What would that be?" I stop and look at her. She's almost beaming.

"How would you like to go on a blind date?"

"A blind date? No. Thanks, anyway."

Ashley huffs. "I haven't even told you about the guy yet!" she exclaims.

"I'm not into blind dates." I put the last of my books in the backpack and stand up. "The guy could be a murderer for all we know." I shut my locker and replace the lock.

"He's not, trust me." Ashley smiles. "Sully's a great guy, give him a chance."

I sigh. "No, Ashley."

"And why not? You've been single for too long, it's time to get you a boyfriend."

"Again. I don't do blind dates. I'm sorry." I pat her on the shoulder and walk away, swinging my backpack over my shoulder and heading off to the French room.

I slide into my seat, noticing that Marco isn't in the desk beside mine. I figure that he's just late, but when Md. Bouvier walks into the room and shuts the door behind her, I realize he's not here.

"Bonjour, classe," Md. Bouvier greets us, setting her bag on the desk.

"Bonjour, Madame Bouvier," we all say in unison, myself sulking in my seat.

Md. Bouvier smiles. "Aujourd'hui nous étudierons la construction de phrases avec nos partenaires."

Just great. My partner isn't here. I sigh and look out the window, not the best thing to do if you're in the front row.

"Monsieur Arrington! Je suis ici, pas dehors." Md. Bouvier walks over to me and taps her fist on my desk. "Où est Monsieur Del Rossi?"

I shrug, dissecting what she's saying. That's the problem with having a language teacher that speaks only in the language you're suppose to learn. "Je ne sais pas où Marco est, je ne l'ai pas vu toute journée." I hope I said that right.

Md. Bouvier shakes her head. "Lui. Vous ne avez vu lui toute journée."

"Oh. Sorry."

"En français." Md. Bouvier wags her finger at me. "Vous pouvez travailler avec Ashley." She motions to the desk diagonal from me, where Ashley sits, and then directs her attention back to the class. She claps her hands twice. "Travailler maintenant!"

I scoop up my books and backpack, stand up, and work my way to Ashley's desk. Other desks are making loud droning noises as the students slide them to their partner's. I plop down into the desk in front of Ashley and smile.

"Bonjour."

She rolls her eyes, opening up her book to the directed pages. "Aveugle date. Vous. Sully. Vendredi." She crosses her arms and looks at the writing in her book.

"No."

"Oui."

"No. La fin de discussion."

Marco runs down the hall, nearly colliding with me. "Hey. Cyril. Sorry." He tries to catch his breath.

"Where were you? You left me all alone with Ashley and her blind date."

"I slept really late, no one woke me up." Marco laughs lightly. "What's this about a blind date?" He starts to head to the computer lab, I walk with him.

I shake my head. "His name's Sully. Ashley's all over me, trying to make me go."

"Why don't you?" Marco asks, somewhat loudly when a few people pass. I guess I got used to this. It's funny, though, when he first asked me out he said he was tired of putting on a front. "I mean—"

"Even if we weren't together, I don't do blind dates." Together in the same sentence as blind dates: Marco could have said 'What if I go with you. Y'know. With a date of my own?' I sigh.

Marco looks at me, eyebrows furrowed. "You okay?"

I nod. "I'm just a little lightheaded."

"To bring it up, you don't look so good."

I laugh. "You and Ellie are so much alike, it's scary. You must do that every day, tell people they don't look good."

Marco frowns and bumps into Spinner when we get to the computer lab. I go inside, knowing that Spinner isn't 'comfortable' around me anymore. I wrote it off as homophobia the day after I came out.

I look over at the open doorway, seeing Marco talk to him and shake his head, occasionally the two looking over at me. I see Marco shake his head a final time and walk into the room, looking and walking away from me.

"What the fuck?"

I bring my eyes back to the door.

Spinner's still there, as if spying on Marco to see where he's going to sit. I log into the computer and decide to check my mail. It's like this the entire class period: Marco not even looking at the other side of the room, just forward at the teacher.

Class flies by, or not, but the bell rings eventually. I walk out of the room; not waiting for Marco, not waiting for anyone. I just want to go to Health, with or without my so-called boyfriend.

What's worse than sitting in a health class, staring at the words 'Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome', and having a lump rise in your throat? Sitting in a health class, staring at the words 'Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome' and 'Human Immunodeficiency Virus', and having a lump rise in your throat.

This is much like a nightmare, especially knowing what half the people in this room are going to say. Lord, just shoot me now.

I lean back in my chair and look at the red headed woman at the front of the room.

I know everything that there is to know about AIDS and HIV, I don't need to hear it all again. I act like I'm paying attention when I'm really not and watch the woman walk around the room and inform us about the diseases. Tuning everything out has gotten easy for me, I just sit and stare at something; completely oblivious as to what's going on.

The woman picks up a pile of small books and hands them to the kid in the front of my row, most likely telling him to take one and pass it back.

Being paranoid, you can pretty much tell if someone's eyes are trying to bore a giant hole in your head…and that's what's happening now. I blink, bringing myself back into reality, and look to the left. Spinner's staring at me like I'm a cold sore. He raises his hand and looks forward.

"It's only gays that get HIV/AIDS, right?" Why did I know that that was going to happen?

"No." The woman shakes her head. "Anyone can get infected. From blood, semen, vaginal fluid, breast milk, and any other body fluids containing blood that you come in contact with."

None-the-less Spinner goes back to staring at me. I look down at the book in my hands, one I've seen many times before, and try to erase Spinner's face from my line of vision.

Anyone else would probably be scared for their life right about know, the whole 'let's bash a gay and blame this disease on him!' thing. But I'm twice the size of most people here, well, height wise.

I count the minutes until I can get out of here and to home, but the clock seems to have stopped. The bell rings and I swear that the clock hasn't moved at all. I grab my things and walk out into the hall, but stop.

Spinner brushes past me and I follow him. "I really appreciate what you said back there, Mason!" Maybe I shouldn't have yelled…eh, tough cookies.

He turns and I see his eyes grow wide. "I had every right to ask that question, don't bite my head off."

"Yeah, you did, but that doesn't mean you can look at me like I'm the cause of it all," I spit.

"I was just looking at you—"

"Because I'm gay. Since I'm into guys I have to be the fucking cause of everything? I'm not a bag of scum nor is any gay man. You're a fucking pussy!" I'm about to hit him, but I walk off instead. Surprisingly, Marco doesn't run up to me to see what's wrong. Spinner must have gotten to him in some way. I don't get it, Spinner's nothing but a wannabe tough guy…how can he even scare a leaf?

I look back for a split second and Spinner's face is an off shade of red, red with anger.

The next day I haven't calmed down any. I'm probably going to see a visit to the office sometime, but it'll be worth it.

As I'm walking down the hall to my locker I notice that no one seems to be moving. They're all staring in the direction of my locker. Ellie sees me and walks over, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"I don't think you should go over there."

"What are you talking about? I need to get my books, El."

I wish I knew what was going on. Continuing down the hall, I notice Marco's the only one by my locker. It's like slow motion; you want to know what's going on, but at the same moment you don't, making your legs turn into tree stumps.

I get to my locker. I instantly regret wanting to know what the fuss was about.