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I may not have the softest touch,
May not say the words as such...
CHRIS
Nevertheless, Gordie continued to put up with my crap. To this day I don't know why. Unfortunately our couplings were all too infrequent, as Kerri had started insisting on staying in my room with me night after night. And when we were together we never spoke. Never voiced our opinions or ideas or bantered like we used to. Seeing each other was an escape, a chance to hold on to a temporary life raft, but it was never enough. As life got more difficult, I tried to push Gordie further in the sweet, guilty solitude of his bed. My fingers would curl around his hips or encircle his waistband, but he would always push me away. This both angered and confused me but as I said... we never spoke. It was sick but felt so right.
Sex with Kerri was purely 'physical'. I could just about manage it but felt no emotional connection with the girl who screamed so loud, panting and sweating. Frankly I found it mildly horrifying to be linked to her at all. At night, I dreamt of Gordie as she lay naked beside me. I imagined I would like to hear him make the sounds she did. Problem was, he wasn't as easy. And I wasn't a fag, right? I usually woke in the early hours of the morning. And sometimes the pillow was wet, sometimes the sheets. Kerri – her unobservant vanity never failed to amaze me – assumed that sex with her was what made me so emotional. Whenever we fucked, I zoned out and imagined she was someone else. Yeah, you can guess who. Apparently I could've made a career in acting.
I didn't know if Gordie had fucked a girl, but could never bring myself to ask him. It's not like I really cared about that aspect of his life, the aspect that included girls. Any moments we had together were silent, careful not to wake his parents. I just held him to my chest, savouring moments and counting seconds. I felt him up in his clothes, trying to commit every line of his body to memory. It was as if we both felt it coming, though neither knew what to look for.
The bombshell hit a few weeks after the scene in the bathroom. A few weeks of me enjoying the thrill of playing with Gordie. I slammed into his room at four in the morning one night (I'd long since worked out a way of pushing the window in just the right spot). As I stepped off the sill, shutting the glass behind me hastily, I could feel his eyes on me. I turned, and saw he was sitting up on his bed with his knees pulled to his chest. I ignored this, pulling my shirt off. I was half way out of my jeans when he spoke.
"Stop." I was startled by his speaking. As I mentioned, these were usually silent affairs. I stopped, looking at him carefully.
"What?"
"Look," He ran a nervous hand through his messy hair. "I don't wanna do this anymore," My heart beat a crazy conga in my chest, "I don't like being the whore when you're girlfriend's the one with clothes to fit a puppet."
I closed my eyes and groaned.
"What the fuck do you want me to do, huh? I've already made so many sacrifices for you…"
"Sacrifices?! What? You mean it's a freakin' sacrifice for you to be here? Wow, Christopher fuckin' Chambers, the fucking Saint. What are you giving up exactly? You've got me to give you hard-ons and the Brandon bitch between your legs. Sounds absolutely fuckin' perfect to me."
"AGHH!" I slammed a fist against the edge of the bedframe. Luckily it was a Friday so his parents were visiting his Aunt for the weekend.
"That's right, Chambers, destroy my furniture. That'll make you feel a whole lot better." His voice was miserable.
I grabbed his face and shoved my mouth against his. I was very shocked when he bit my tongue! I yowled and sprang back against the wall, glaring at him as I swallowed the blood in my mouth.
"Bastard! What the fuck did you do that for?"
"That ain't gonna work anymore, Chris." He stood up, and put his arms around my waist. I forced myself to flinch away even though I didn't want to.
"What?"
"This mindless shit. You think that is going to make things OK? It doesn't mean anything if you don't want it to. I want all of you, Chris. Not just your tongue occasionally."
"Uhh! Not this again! Let me make this absolutely clear!" I pulled him around, shoving his head toward mine so we were eye to eye. He didn't flinch, searching my face carefully.
"I-AM-STRAIGHT." Each word sent a small spray of spit over his face. He didn't try to wipe it away, just stared me down as my fingers dug grooves into his shoulder blades. "I like doing it with WOMEN. Hell, I LOVE it! And the only reason I'm standing here right now is 'cuz I got nothing better to do. QUIT deluding yourself. I'm not gonna wake up one day and suddenly be queer like you!"
I shoved him away from me. He sighed and sat down on the bed as I pulled my clothes on. As I was opening the window he said softly, "You kissed me first, Christopher. Don't you ever forget that."
I walked away.
A couple of days later, I was in class with Kerri, bored out of my mind and contemplating my chances of escaping. I hadn't seen Gordie since the showdown and I missed him. I figured I'd go back to his room that night and climb into bed with him. He would take me back, he had no choice.
Everything was normal until we heard a ruckuss coming from outside. Mr Morton – our hung-over teacher – didn't object as the whole class simultaneously stampeded into the hall. He just put his head down on the desk, clutching his coffee cup and putting his hands over his ears.
I followed the group out lazily. I mean, anythin's better than double french, right? I expected another scuffle over lunch money or another humiliation of Isacc B. Heinestroff III, (an exchange student the size of a house) but stopped stock still when I heard the shouting.
"Fag!"
"Homo!"
"Ass-fucker!"
I pushed a little further down the hall, shoving towards the front of the group. Gordie was pressed up against the wall, his arms over his face as the school's meanest bullies beat down on him.
"Bender!"
"Freak!"
"Cock-sucker!"
Each insult was punctuated by a hard blow to my friend's body. He just crouched there, taking it. He probably knew that fighting back would only make it worse. I recognised the three ugly guys. Henry Maddens, Josh Christoe and Martin Lawson. They were trainee Cobras who ran around after Ace like puppies. They picked on everyone over everything, and they fought dirty. They continued to punch Gordie with their fists and words as I surged closer.
"What the fuck happened?" I heard Kerri ask a random girl excitedly.
"Maddens saw that kid Lachance comin' outta Austin Moran's place."
"Moran's? No shit. Never pegged him for a fag. Guess he does have stupid hair..." Her voice drifted off as she maliciously gossiped with her friend.
Gordie had been to MORAN'S? What... the... fuck? I stopped again, my brain frozen. Everything seemed to move in s-l-o-w motion. I watched them punch my... my... my friend once. Twice. Three times.
He'd been to Moran's. He'd fucked a guy. A fucking boy! A MALE. He'd no doubt had that skanky kid's cock up his ass. He'd probably whined and groaned just like I'd imagined. The dirty fag. The disgusting homo slut.
Unaware I'd still been in motion, I suddenly found myself at the front of the crowd. Gordie was sprawled a few feet away from me.
"Get the FUCK away from him!" Janice Cartwright barrelled forward, shoving past me to get between Gordie and the guys. She squared up to the leader. "Y'hear me? MOVE your ugly behind!"
Why wasn't I moving? It wasn't her job to protect Gordie. It was mine! Wasn't it? Suddenly I didn't know. He'd kissed another guy... held him like he'd held me. He'd freakin' fucked him. I didn't give a shit if he shagged every girl in state, but him even touching another guy left me cold. Weak at the knees. Sick. On the verge of tears. How long had this been going on? Had he been sneaking round to Moran's for secret fucks before our friendship even ended? Hell, even before our first kiss in the street? While I'd touched him, had he been picturing that shit-faced son of a whore? I tried to rid the image from my vision, but it seemed to be burned behind my eyes...
Three desires twisted my insides. I wanted to run in and push Janice out of the way, not to protect her but to take my rightful place as Gordie's protector and best friend… and whatever the fuck else I was. I also wanted to run in there and join the beating. I wanted to hurt him because he was a dirty fucker who'd slept with some nobody who wasn't me. And he was a homo, and homo is just plain wrong. I shuddered, my body vibrating with conflicting emotions.
"CHRIS!" Janice stared at me, expecting me to do something. That girl new too fucking much. I wanted to move, but stayed still. Immobile.
"Get out the way, Jan." Gordie sat up slightly, blood pouring from his mouth as he tried to push her away. She didn't move.
"Don't hurt her." He said to Maddens.
"Aww, the queer's Momma has come to the rescue." Lawson crooned in a high-pitched falsetto. His spotty, pug-like face screwed up so it looked almost as ugly as normal. Gordie spat a gobful of blood on to the waxed floor, not taking his eyes off the leader.
Maddens pushed Janice away, advancing on Gordie again. Maddens' girlfriend – she was almost as grotesque as he was – pulled Janice's arms behind her back so she couldn't move as the bully leered down at Gordie.
"You're nothin'…" Maddens raised a fist, his two goons moving in to stand close behind him as he advanced. "But a little pussy-arsed…"
Something familiar rumbled in my chest. I vaguely remembered feeling the same way at the age of 12…and 13… and 14… whenever Gordie got in trouble…
"COCKSUCKER!"
Maddens' arm slammed upwards, fist crashing towards Gordie's nose, but I was quicker. I knocked his arm away with all the force in my body, sending him crashing flat-backed to the floor. None of his friends squared up to me. I mean, I was a Chambers kid, I probably had a knife or gun stashed somewhere.
"Fuck off, Maddens." I said. "Gordie ain't no queer. Musta been your Dad you saw." This was hardly the most eloquent insult, but it sure got Maddens mad. He was off the floor in seconds, before Gordie's voice stopped him.
Now, if you're thinking Gordie was trying to save me from Maddens at this point, then you are very, very wrong.
"Piss off, Chris," He spat. "I don't need you, y'hear?"
As I stared at him disbelievingly, he got up and pushed me aside roughly, back towards Kerri. He addressed the crowd in a steady voice, standing up straight as blood dried on the corner of his mouth.
"That's right! I'm a fuckin' queer. An ass-fucker. Bender. Pansie. Cocksucker. Call me whatever the hell you want because it's all true! Hell yes I was with Moran. He does wonderful things with his tongue!" There was an audible gasp, and a few people shrank back like he was contagious.
Gordie turned to Maddens, who's mouth and eyes were wide.
"How about it, sweetie? You fancy a ride? Reckon I'm not as good as Moran but a cock's a cock, right?"
"I-I don't know what you're…" Maddens' voice cracked.
"No? Then how did you see me? Bet you were waitin' outside for your turn."
"Th-that.. that's a lie." He looked to his mates for help but nothing came.
Gordie was the one advancing now, moving towards Maddens who was backing away a little. He licked his lips mockingly, wiggling his hips and laughing. Though his eyes stayed cold, focused and devoid of all emotion.
Then, so fast I barely clocked what was happening, Gordie grabbed Maddens' face and pulled his lips to his. Maddens tried to shake him off, but somehow (I don't know how) my scrawny friend clung on tight. He shoved his tongue past the boy's lips, grabbing his jaw with his little fingers and half spitting all over him. Half a second later, Maddens reeled backward as Gordie shoved him away, and was off down the corridor before anyone could process it. There were red scratches on his jaw line and his eyes were streaming.
You probably could have heard a pin drop at that moment, it was so quiet. Gordie wiped a hand across his mouth and spat on the floor again, shuddering like he was trying to get the taste of Maddens out of his mouth. His breathing was ragged as he looked from face to face. Looked at everyone except me. Then, after a long moment, he picked up his bag and began to walk away. Not hurrying, just ambling like he was off to a picnic or something. Only his slightly shaking shoulders gave him away as he moved off. His footsteps were loud in the silence.
Janice suddenly broke away from the shellshocked girl.
"Gordie?!" He didn't answer, just strolled toward the doors. There, he turned and looked at me for the first time.
"Comin', Chris?" He actually held his hand out. I looked around at the gathered students, who's mouths were all agape. I'd imagine mine was the same.
I turned, and walked shakily back to the classroom. Not answering him with words, but giving him the message anyway.
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