This lil fella is from my LYNITS universe, a sneak peek into when John was a rough and tumble, angry kid in the deep south before growing up into the kind, tender man we've all come to know and love.
"Jack, where are you going?" Lafayette looked at me with nervous eyes.
"Out. God. I'm just going out. Jesus, you sound like my dad." I shoulder checked him hard on my way through the door and regretted it.
"Jack, don't do this. It's not safe." He grabbed my arm, but I pulled free. Sports made me stronger than him.
"Yeah, since I'm so safe here." My scowl made me painfully aware of the bruise that purpled my cheek.
I crept out the door and pulled the J out from where I'd tucked it behind my ear, easily hidden under my hair and sparked it, taking a drag that slowly worked its way through my blood to mellow me out. I didn't want to be mellow. I wanted to burn off my adrenaline. I wanted to pour gas on the fire. The doors to my Beemer clicked as I unlocked them with the keyless entry. I slid into the leather seats and stubbed the joint out in the door frame, tucking the rest up in the visor. I didn't want to get high. Not like that. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out and saw Laf's name, I flipped the phone open and powered it down, not wanting anymore interruptions. The BMW purred when I turned it on and I idled down the driveway. My legs thrummed with adrenaline and I drove to my favourite track, finishing the joint on the drive, watching the speedometer creep past one hundred. The dark road curved, but I handled them easily. Once I got to the track I parked sideways, not like anyone else would be coming to the track at this hour.
My sneakers squeaked when I tore off into a run. The adrenaline in my body had somewhere to go, I looked down at my watch and ran harder, I could beat my time. Faster. Faster. The world was a blur. Faster. I had to move faster. Nothing existed in that moment except for my feet on the pavement. I felt myself sinking into my high and slowed down. Even high, I'd managed to beat my last meet's time. I slowed down and listened to the chorus of frogs. The sounds of summer in South Carolina. This was the only redeeming quality of living out here, being able to actually be alone. It wasn't enough to just feel alone. I loved coming out here to be alone. I dropped to my knees and screamed as loud as I could, nothing intelligible, just loud, I screamed out how angry I was after taking another beating from my father. Two more years. Two more fucking years and I'd be free. Two more fucking years and the prick would never fucking see me again. I'd get out of here, go to New York or San Francisco, somewhere far away from here, somewhere where the sounds of a city were loud enough to drown out my thoughts. The pavement still held the warmth of the day and felt good under my hands, but I pushed off of it, back to standing and made my way back to the car.
I got back in the car and reached under the passenger's seat for the bottle of Southern Comfort I kept there, it was half empty, just enough for the night. It sat open between my thighs as I drove. The muscles pulsed from exertion around the bottle and I finally felt relaxed. Finally, I'd been able to let go some of the bullshit. There was a party happening on the outskirts of town. I'd been on the fence about whether or not I would go, but I decided that this bottle of Southern Comfort wouldn't be quite enough to do it for me.
The bonfire was visible from a mile away and I turned my car own the gravel path and parked in the circle of pickup trucks.
"Hey! Johnny!" My peers slurred as I walked up, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
"What's good, dog?" I shook my friend, Adam's hand in our complicated gesture.
"We're speedballing over here, you down?"
"Always down, my man." I laughed at him like he was stupid.
"How'd you get the shiner?"
"My old man."
"Damn… Again?"
I shrugged, "looks like it, huh?"
He handed me a straw and I snorted the white powder off the hood of his red pickup. I felt it hit me and stumbled over to the fire to sit in the grass. I watched the bonfire burn, vaguely aware of the warmth on my face.
"You know, Jimmy's got his eye on you."
"Yeah?" I sniffed.
"Hell yeah, man. Get you some." Adam slapped me on the shoulder.
The drugs gave me renewed confidence and I staggered over to him.
"H-hey, Jimmy." He was good enough looking, muscles had filled out over the summer.
He blushed and looked up at me, I was the tallest among my peers, Lafayette, my only saving grace. This was all stupid, the smart thing to do would be to go home and let Lafayette hold me in his bed while I came down. Lafayette. He'd called me. Lafayette, he was so warm and safe, he'd hold me and call me pretty in French and make me drink water and tell me it was all going to be alright. That I'd get out of here somehow. Go home, Jackie. No. I don't have a home, not even Lafayette is home. He's just… my best friend… the person I'm hurting… The person I'm disappointing.
"Hey, Laurens."
I stumbled and put my hand on his shoulder to get my bearings, shaking free of the thoughts of Laf.
"Do you wanna get the fuck out of here?" The drugs made my voice sound wrong, thick and heavy.
He bit his lip and his eyes sparkled. He'd do.
"Yeah, let's go. We can take my truck."
I nodded and climbed into the cab beside him. The ride up to the peak went unnoticed by me, the world had reduced to wind and colour. I wanted to make Jimmy want me. To be wanted by somebody. That's all I needed, all I wanted tonight. When the truck stopped moving I couldn't tell, my body pulsated and my vision was blurry. Jimmy and I climbed around the back of the truck and he let the tailgate down. Our clothes were discarded around the bed and I could feel him sucking at my throat. Could feel him lining up, hear him spit into his hand, feel the searing iron pain as he entered me. The stars were pretty tonight.
It did feel good. Through the numbness of the drugs I knew that much. He was thick and hard. I liked that.
"Laurens, your body's so good. Wanting to fuck you all year, see you running by shirtless. So fucking hot. You're as good as I thought you'd be."
I listened to myself mumble something vaguely sexual in response and found Cassiopeia. Found the dipper, used that to find the rest of the bear. Found Mars. Maybe I'd fit in on Mars. Maybe no one would call me a freak there. I didn't like being called a freak, but I'd take it over the other names. My walls started to shake around him as I tuned back in, he was pumping my dick in time to his thrusts. My balls seized and I bit down on his shoulder as my orgasm flooded me. He grunted as he came. I never cared for all the grunting.
Jimmy reached up into the cab and pulled out a bottle of Jack. We passed it back and forth and looked up at the stars. I didn't even notice the mosquitos biting my bare skin. Jimmy made no moves to get close to me and I wondered if maybe cuddling afterwards was just something that happened in the movies. Go home, Jackie. Lafayette will cuddle you.
'I should probably get going." I decided.
"I'll take you back to your car."
We dressed ourselves again and slid into the truck. The ride was silent, country music on the radio, always country music. The party had cleared out and the bonfire was dying embers.
"Thanks for the ride."
"Mhm, and, hey, remember at school this shit never happened." Jimmy flashed me a winning smile that would keep me coming back to play the role of his dirty little secret.
I drove my car home, the rumble strips keeping me on the road as I took the curves at ninety, hey, nice cars weren't made to drive slow. The door creaked as I opened it, but I slid upstairs unnoticed. Lafayette's lamp was on so I tapped on the door.
"John?" He whispered, a gasp of relief in his voice.
I pushed the door open and found him reading, looking dignified, hair wrapped under silk, matching pajamas, his glasses on the end of his nose. He put his book down, surely some sappy French romance novel and slid over, patting the free space. My feet were unsteady under me and I staggered to his bed, kicking my shoes off with two loud thuds that made me giggle. The sheets were soft and I nuzzled into them, pulling my shirt off. Lafayette pulled me into his arms and I realized - trying to focus on how smooth his pajamas felt against my skin - just how dizzy I was.
"Jack, you smell like a barn, what have you done tonight?"
I tried to remember, "um… went for a run, went to a fire, got laid… think that's about it."
"Mon dieu." He wrapped his arms around me. "Every time you do this I fear you have died."
I ignored the sadness in his voice, I hated myself for disappointing him, hurting him, "do you think I'm capable of being loved?" The tears started now.
The crying was always the worst part of coming down. Lafayette felt good. Holding me. Next to my sisters and Harry, Lafayette was the only person in the world who loved me.
"Shh, Jackie, of course you will be loved." He smoothed my hair back and rested his forehead against my shoulder.
"How come I don't mean anything to any of them? I thought Frankie was it but he doesn't want me... 'cause of dad." I turned to face Lafayette and sobbed into his chest.
I was so tired of how much it hurt just to live. It wasn't supposed to hurt just to live. Life was supposed to be filled with love and joy and fresh flowers and the way coloured pencils smell right after you sharpen them. Not this.
"He is just afraid, mon chou. How is your eye?"
"It's fine… I hate my dad." I kept sobbing, unable to stop myself now.
"I know you do."
"It wasn't this bad before mom died. I wish he died instead."
Lafayette shushed me and kissed the top of my head.
"You will be loved, beauty. You will find a man who will love you and bring you flowers and write you poetry. You will."
"Those kind of men don't exist. That's just made up for your stupid romance books."
"It will be real for you."
"Doubt it."
"Jackie, it will."
He twisted my hair through his fingers, making little braids in the curls. I fell asleep without realizing it, soothed by Lafayette's heartbeat.
I couldn't pay attention in school all the next day. It didn't matter, I didn't have to make good grades as long as I could run fast. That was my golden ticket. Because people who run fast are good doctors, or so was the Henry Laurens logic. A voice shook me from my thoughts at lunch.
"I said, 'hey, fag, your makeup's coming off,'" this time it came with a push.
I turned to see Charles Lee staring me down. I didn't want to do this, not today. I touched the bruise from my dad and thought about the cover up Martha had let me use. We'd decided it wouldn't be good for my teachers to see a black eye from the esteemed Henry Laurens.
"Leave me alone, Charles." I turned back to my tray.
"One of your faggy boyfriends give you that?" He sneered and I felt my head get wet, chocolate milk dripped on the table in front of me.
I pushed away from the table, the linoleum squeaking under the legs of my chair, and stood up to my full height. I was strong, I was built, there wasn't a fight I wouldn't win.
He clocked me before I saw it coming and I punched him back, grabbing him by the front of his jacket, I slammed him on the table and held him down. He got a leg between us and kicked me square in the chest. Droplets of chocolate milk hit the linoleum as I flew backwards. In the moment of falling I felt peaceful, but as the ground rose up to meet me to the pain started. Two of the coaches grabbed us and separated us.
"This isn't over!" I screamed, I hadn't secured a victory, and, honestly, had gotten my ass kicked.
I was sent home and certain they'd call my dad. I hid out in my room, trying to avoid the inevitable and sketched my baby sister, Polly, in our mother's arms. Lafayette got home and came to find me.
"What happened?"
"Charles Lee is what happened."
"What do you mean?"
"He… started talking shit, poured chocolate milk on my head… I punched him." I twisted my now clean, but still wet curls around my fingers.
"I'm sorry, mon ami."
"It's fine." There was a hard edge in my voice.
"Please don't do anything stupid."
"Not stupid." I shook my head and went back to sketching.
Time passed and the sun dropped behind the trees. I was called to my father's study.
"John, do you care to tell me why I received a call from your school today?"
"No, father." I stared at his desk, not daring to look at him.
"Why do you insist on making a mockery of our family name? Was the death of your mother not bad enough for our family?"
"I didn't mean anything by it." I braced for him to strike me.
"You shame me and shame me and shame me, John, there is only so much that disrespect that a man can take, and from his own son, no less."
"I'm sorry my existence is so shameful to you, sir." I rose my gaze to stare at the spines of his thick, boring law books.
"Leave me, I cannot bear to look at you anymore."
The chair scraped on the floor from how quickly I got up, thankful that I'd managed to escape an interaction without another bruise to conceal.
Once everyone was in bed I pulled on my chucks and tied my long hair up into a messy bun, I was ready to get square with Charles.
"John, no. Where are you going tonight?" Laf pleaded, hearing me go past his room.
"I'm going out, Laf." I said solemnly.
"John, please. Please, don't do this."
"I'll be fine. Love you." I hugged my friend and slipped out the door.
The drive was short enough, I knew the spot that Lee and his cronies liked to party at. My Beemer took me there gracefully, a beautiful piece of machinery. I was right, I could hear them whooping and laughing at what was certainly a hare-brained joke. The car went silent as I pulled the key from the ignition. The walk down to the lake was short, they noticed me almost immediately and I cracked my knuckles ready for the fight. Ready for the blood to spill over my lips and teeth, ready to turn my fingers the same purple colour that my father had turned my face.
"Is that you, Laurie?" Charles roared with squeaky laughter at his own stupid joke.
"Lee! Get the fuck up here and face me!" I roared, listening to the echo of my voice through the trees.
"You're pretty brave to come alone, queerbait." Lee retorted, coming up the rocky embankment.
"This isn't about your friends. This is between you and me."
I walked up to him and cold cocked him. He spat blood onto the rocks, with any luck a tooth with it.
"Got some balls on you, Laurens."
"So I've heard." I sneered
Lee punched me back, I leaned out of the way to miss the full impact and listened to his friends goad him on to hit me harder. He did, but not before I got another good swing in, he might have been stronger, but I was faster, more agile. When you grow up getting hit you're better at dodging blows.
He didn't get back up after a hard blow to the side, kneeling on the rocks, coughing and sputtering.
"Don't you ever fucking touch me again." I spat on the ground between us and turned to go back to my car, go home, lick my wounds, apologize to Laf, but I heard commotion behind me.
"Whoa, whoa, Charles! Man, too far, what are you doing?" One of the cronies was shouting at him, but then I felt the pain.
I felt the pain before the sound made sense. The sound was my baseball bat cracking against the ball on a bright May morning. It was a truck backfiring. It was thunder in the middle of the night. It hurt.
"You fuckin' shot him?" One of the cronies shouted at Charles.
I dropped to my knees.
"We gotta get the fuck out of here," the other one.
This sound was a truck backfiring. They were leaving. I looked down to see the blood spreading through my t-shirt, over my shoulder, just my shoulder. I could handle that. I just had to get home. I could just pack the wound, just pack… the… I could pack the wound… I could… fuck, it hurt. I pressed my shoulder with my other hand in an attempt to keep my blood inside me. In my car, good start. I thought about calling Laf, but instead just reached for the bottle of vodka I'd scammed after leaving my dad's study, poured some of it over my shoulder and some in my mouth to steel me for the drive.
"Let's go." I told myself in the rearview mirror.
My breathing came in short, labouring intervals as I sped back toward my house. It was a funny sensation, how my vision would fade to white and come back. The sound and impact of scraping the Beemer down the guardrail was only vaguely on my register.
"John, baby, what did you do?" My mom sighed.
"I just… mom… it's bad…"
"I know, sweetie, but this isn't helping." She tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed my cheek.
"It's horrible, mom… Everything."
I talked to my dead mother in the passenger seat and managed to get myself home, leaving the BMW parked haphazardly in the long driveway. I burst through the door and hurried up to the bathroom to clean myself.
I was white behind a sheet of freckles, the blood was completely covering my shirt. I was crying. Hard. It fucking hurt. Lafayette appeared once I'd taken the bloody shirt off and was leaning against the wall, too weak to stand.
"John! What happened?" Lafayette was already crying and cradling me.
"Got. Shot. Lee." I leaned into him, holding his shirt for stability.
We sank to the ground.
"Jack!" My brother's voice.
Lafayette telling him to get my dad.
"Don't… Don't tell dad." I begged, but sleep surrounded me.
When I woke up, there was a scratchy, thin blanket over me, but I was so warm, I was so warm, and felt so loved. I opened my eyes. Laf. He was in bed with me. In the hospital. Hospital? Hospital. The pain came flooding back and I became aware of my arm in the sling.
"You are awake." Lafayette gasped.
"I am." I confirmed, mostly just to make sure I wasn't dead.
"Jack." He sobbed into my hair and held me tighter than ever.
"I'm sorry, Laf, I'm so sorry."
"No. No. Don't be. I'm just so glad you're alive."
"I'm sorry I'm such a piece of garbage."
"You aren't!" He held me tighter.
"I am. I'm a waste of space."
"Jack, you aren't. Please don't start this again. You are perfect."
"No, I'm not."
His lips were warm against mine, soft, full, smooth, but it felt all wrong. I didn't want Lafayette like that. He was so much more to me, he was practically my brother.
"What are you doing?" I stopped him.
"I don't know! Proving we're normal? Good enough? That you shouldn't try to get yourself killed! I don't know, Jack. Nothing else I do is working."
"I just want don't want to feel so… persecuted."
"I know. It will get better."
"What makes you so sure?"
"I don't know… it just has to. Someday, John, you're going to have a perfect, wonderful life. You will. You'll find someone who loves you."
"You really think so?"
"I know it."
"You really think he'll write me poetry?"
"I really do."
"Do you think I'll ever get to have kids?"
"Beautiful ones that look just like you."
Drowsiness hazed over me, "do you think he'll be beautiful?"
"So beautiful."
"Dark hair. Dark eyes. I'm gonna play with his hair. I'm gonna love him."
"I know you will. He's going to love you right back." Lafayette promised.
"And, Laf?"
"Yes, Jack?"
"Promise me you won't ever kiss me again?"
"Deal… that was… weird, but it was worth a shot."
"But we've definitely ruled that out."
"Oh, God, yes." He agreed and let me fall back asleep on him.
