Chapter 3

"Sleep well, Bernard?" Harmse asked at breakfast in the mess hall the next morning.

Bernard stopped fiddling around with the spoon in his empty bowl and looked up at Harmse as well as the other face he was sharing the table with.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Harmse asked whether you slept well," Mikhail piped up.

Bernard looked at the both of them then back down to his bowl.

"Fine I guess."

Harmse and Mikhail looked at each other with quizzical glances before shrugging and continuing with their breakfast.

Both Brian Harmse and Mikhail van Dyk were the only boys in the school whom Bernard considered friends.

Mikhail was a lanky 17 year old who had inherited his Czech mother's smooth, marble complexion. His intelligent, cerulean eyes reflected hours upon hours of poring through encyclopaedias, treatises and other tomes of intellectual significance. Apart from being a typical straight-A student, he was hardly uptight and snobbish and had a really easy-going, if not cynical, personality.

Harmse, on the other hand, was a total jock. Ambitious, impulsive, outspoken and a sweet-talking womanizer, he visited the school's gymnasium religiously and was an avid supporter of sports' supplements being freely distributed to younger sportsmen like him. He was well built and tan and had a rather express attraction to the opposite sex. One that he wasn't scared to show.

A few moments of silence followed between the boys as they finished their breakfast. Harmse broke the ice.

"So, I hear that Lizè's throwing a party at her farm this weekend. Might be worth checking out."

"Lizè?" Mikhail asked, raising his eyebrow "As in that Lizè?"

"She's not like that! She just...enjoys the finer things in life."

"I'm not so sure I want to go. Last time at one of her kuiers they spiked the drinks pretty bad. I really didn't enjoy the mother-lode of all hangovers I had the morning after."

"Oh come on! Stop being such a wet blanket. It'll be FUN! I mean, there'll be chicks, and we get to sleep over! Isn't that like score or what?"

Mikhail raised both his eyebrows and stared blankly at Harmse.

"Oh-ho-ho!" Harmse laughed mockingly, "I forgot! You're not really into chicks!"

"Harmse! Not here!" Mikhail hissed through his teeth.

Harmse didn't stop: "Sorry, bru, the only dudes there will be that pudgy brother of hers and that weird gardener..."

A quick, sharp jab to his right arm stopped him short.

"Eina! That hurt!" Harmse rubbed the sore limb, "You really need to chill! I was only kidding."

"There's plenty more where that came from," Mikhail said and brandished his plastic butter knife menacingly, "If you just so much as accidentally out me here, this knife will have a new resting place. Your eye."

"Jeez, okay, chill would you?"

He looked at Bernard while still rubbing his arm vigorously.

"You're mighty quiet, Bernie. As always. Do you want to go to that party this weekend?"

Bernard looked up at Harmse and shook his head.

"Dude, you really need to get out of that shell you're living in. Get out and enjoy life."

"I wouldn't necessarily put participating in every moral vice known to man and enjoying life in the same category," Mikhail chipped in.

"Shuddup! I wasn't talking to you. You're gay, so you don't really have a reason to judge," he turned back to Bernard, "As I was saying before Edward Cullen here interrupted me, why don't you want to go?"

Bernard shrugged.

"Ah, I see. So it's the silent treatment is it? Thanks a lot, Bernie, appreciate it bud."

"You're a real compassionate being, aren't you?" Mikhail said.

"What? Dude? I'm didn't say anything wrong."

Mikhail just shook his head.

"Dude, look at him! He's the worst case of depro I've ever seen. He needs to forget what happened in the past and...OW!"

Mikhail had given him another jab on the right arm and glared at him warningly not to discuss the matter further.

Wordlessly, Bernard stood up and took his cereal bowl to the kitchen.

School started off just as any other day for Bernard. It opened with a rather boring Biology class in which the teacher discussed the fundamentals of Mendel's genetic experiments. Accounting was next and after forty minutes of crediting and debiting, English Second Additional language took the spot. It included a rather bland lecture on Athol Fugard, a playwright whom his English teacher seemed to revere highly.

During the transition between the last two classes of the day, Mikhail caught up and walked alongside him.

"Bernard," he said, "About this morning, I'm really sorry if Harmse rubbed a little more salt in the wounds."

"You don't have to apologise, Mikhail," Bernard replied, "I don't take offence to what Harmse says anymore."

"It's just; I'm really worried about you. And even though Harmse might be an ass at times, I know he is as well. We don't like seeing you like this."

"Pretend I'm not there then."

Mikhail sighed and the two friends trudged on in silence in the crowd of schoolboys milling around on their way to classes. After a while, he stopped Bernard and stood in front of him.

"Bernard, please, you can't go on like this. You know that you're broken, and you need to understand that I don't blame you for being so. I really care about you and I want to help you. You need to stop bottling all these emotions up and open your mouth."

"Ye gods! You sound just like Mandy! I never thought you of all people would be capable of such sentimental trash," Bernard snapped back suddenly.

Mikhail was taken aback to this retort and shook his head.

They walked further in silence until they stopped near the junction where they would part ways to their respective classes. Mikhail was about to leave when Bernard spoke up.

"I'm sorry about what I said just now."

Mikhail stopped and looked back while Bernard walked towards him. He put his hand firmly on Mikhail's shoulder and looked him in square in the eyes.

"Mikhail, understand this, you don't need to be my 24/7 shoulder to cry on. I've already told you everything and I've already exhausted both our tear-reservoirs countless times. These emotions I feel are things I need to deal with alone. Nobody can do it for me. And in so doing, I need to deal with them in the way I think best. Don't feel guilty about not being a good friend. You've already done everything you can but this time I'll need to fight alone. You can try to help, but you won't accomplish anything. Sorry."

Mikhail grabbed Bernard's hand firmly and nodded. Bernard could see a singular tear accumulating in his left eye.

He let go of Mikhail's shoulder.

"There's just...one thing, though."

"What?"

"Back in Grade 8, when I was still hating myself for being gay, I thought that my future had already come crashing down on me. I didn't like the life that I had 'chosen'. That same fateful day, when I came out to you, I told you that it was the only reason I was searching for to kill myself. Do you remember?"

Bernard paused a while, thinking back. He nodded solemnly.

"Well, when you say that I've done everything I could, you're wrong. I haven't done nearly enough what you've done for me as a friend. One day, I WILL pay the debt I owe you in full. It might not be today, but that day will come. I promise. "

Bernard smiled feebly.

"Thank you, Mikhail."

With this, he hurriedly walked towards Chemistry.

A/N: AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH Still struggling with paragraphs! If anybody can help me out here, please do!