Crush

Andrew slammed his locker shut as the last bell rang, warning students who caught the bus home that they had less than five minutes to make it to the front of the building. The halls were nearly deserted by the time Drew wandered out to student parking. He’d lingered behind after last period, wanting to take one more walk pass Chayton’s classroom.



Unsurprisingly, Chay’s classroom had been locked up tight, the lack of light coming from beneath the door indicating that Chay had left. Drew smiled to himself as he thought of handsome teacher hurrying away from Brighton High as soon as he was free to do so. Drew hoped that thoughts of what he’d done to Chay a day ago and today during lunch period haunted the teacher during his drive home.



Drew had no doubt that he was steadily breaking down Chay’s defenses. The natural submission in the older man was rearing its pretty little head. Drew couldn’t wait to reap the rewards of his efforts—to have Chay turn to him eagerly and without fear.



Drew walked out to student parking on autopilot, his thoughts attuned to the daydreams that had assuaged him while watching Chay teach. The older man had no idea how sexy he was. He moved in the front of the classroom with an easy, hip-rolling grace. The silken, black braid swinging at his back had only increased Drew’s desire to tangle his fingers in the man’s hair and work the braid loose, to use that hair as a web in which to entrap it’s owner as he stole a kiss.



He’d never been fond of school before, but now every class that was not taught by Chay seemed more tedious than before. He kept his grades up, did his homework, and volunteered the occasional answer if a teacher’s eye fell on him—which it did often. But not because he gave a damn about the subject matter, it just came easy to him. Looks, smarts, and athletic ability he’d either been born with or developed as he got older.



Chayton was the first thing he’d fully pursued. That he’d wanted.



Drew didn’t care what he had to do to make this work, he only knew that he would.



Only a few cars were still in the lot as he walked over the faded and cracked asphalt, making it easy spot where he'd parked.



A figure peeled itself away from the car’s frame and stood up with arms crossed against a white t-shirt. Drew didn’t need to see the face to know who it was. He’d witnessed that stance hundreds of times when Gabriel tried to act tough in front of a pack of freshman.



As he got closer, Gabriel’s features became clearer. Drew could now see the stubborn jut of his jaw, and Gabe’s thin lips were pressed in a line. He obviously had a bone to pick with Drew.



Drew sighed, his walking daydreams about Chay disappearing like smoke as he prepared for mental battle. “What do you want, Gabriel?”



Gabriel stared at him a moment, like he were trying to figure Drew out. Like he hadn’t been his friend for damn near ever. Finally he said, “Are you gay?”



Drew waited for the panic to take hold. He’d thought his heart rate would increase, that he’d break out in a cold sweat, and he wouldn’t know what to say when the time came that someone shone the light on one of his deepest secrets. None of that happened. He was the calm in the center of the storm. He’d been terrified for so long that he’d plain run out of room for being scared. “And if I was?”



Gabriel’s broad shoulders rose and then fell helplessly. “Fuck, man! Are you admitting to that shit? Cause if you are—.”



“If I am? What?” Drew felt his lips peel back from his teeth in a feral smile. What right did Gabriel have to judge? What right did anyone have to tell him who and what to be?”



“That’s sick, dude!”



“Oh, fuck off, Gabe. Nothing’s changed about me.”



“Everythings changed about you!” Gabriel roared. “I thought I knew who you were man, I thought you were straight as a fucking arrow once upon a time. I thought I'd imagined that your gaze lingered a little too long on the guys in the showers, or that you were staring more at some jock than the girl hanging on your arm.You could be so fucking arrogant sometimes thinking you were hotshit because all the girls fall at your fucking feet.” Gabriel shook his head. “I think they’d be surprised to know you’d rather be corn-holing their boyfriends than sinking deep into some pu—.”



Drew heard the crunch before he knew what he was about. Then Gabriel was flying back, blood gushing over his white-t-shirt and Drew was vigorously shaking his right hand, although it did jackshit for his throbbing knuckles.



Given that he’d never actually struck someone before, much less broken their nose. Drew was surprised and a bit horrified at how much blood was pouring over Gabriel’s fingers.

Gabriel glared at him behind cupped hands and bent over to spit blood onto the cracked asphalt. “Mutherfrewker!”



Drew reached out helplessly to his former best friend, wanting to do something, needing to do something to right this wrong.





Gabriel stepped out of reach and cut his hand through the air before clamping it back to his nose.“‘spected you were a fag, Drew. Told Hank and Dewrick. Told them you never fucked Jessica, Roxanne, Cynthia or Joslene.”



Drew felt his stomach twist into a sickening knot. How in the hell would Gabriel know he hadn’t had sex with any of his exs. Would those girls so gladly give up that information to Drew’s best friend?



His confusion must have shown on his face. Gabriel laughed, a horrible wet squelching sound came from his nose and he immediately grimaced and spit more blood. And when he smiled some of his teeth were coated red. “Sloppy seconds, Drew! Every girl in Brighton knew that if they couldn’t get you they could have me. Hell, Cynthia resented your break-up so bad, I only had to crook my finger and she spilled your beans. Only you were too blind to see it. Probably busy chasing after some fairy’s dick.” Gabriel shook his head in disgust. “I used to want to be you, bro. I used to want your looks, and your brains, and fuck…that easy way you had with women. But not anymore.”



Not anymore.



With those angry words echoing in his head, Drew watched as a chapter in his life simply turned and walked away.



***

Drew sank his fist into a bowl of ice and flopped down on the couch, grunting as something dug into his thigh. He rolled to his side and fished out the offending object with his good hand. It was the remote to the television.



He tossed it on the couch and tilted his head back on a cushion to watch the blank TV screen. Fears too numerous to grab hold of swarmed inside his head, forming a stress headache.



In the span of the day, he’d been stripped down a notch on the totem pole. He had no doubt that by tomorrow afternoon Brighton would be buzzing with rumors. Classmates would stare, but not in the usually adoring way he was used to. Their eyes would ask questions, would make presumptions about his character. Not a few would be brimming with glee that the Golden Boy had a chink in his armor.



He’d taken his status for granted. What was all that shit he’d spewed at Chay about hierarchy and expectations? Sure, it sometimes sucked being idolized--there was a lot of pressure put upon his shoulders but it was all he had. It was all he knew.It was better than being an outcast, he now realized. He still didn’t want to have his life under a microscope, but that was the price of being Andrew Robinson in a small town like Brighton where the only heroes were homegrown and few and far between.



He thought of Gabriel being his right hand man all these long years. Had Gabriel resented being second-string? All the bitter words he’d hurled at Drew suggested he had.



Drew was no dummy, and he could freely admit that he’d sometimes seen a glint in Gabriel’s eyes that he’d attributed to meanness, like that same streak of meanness that had Gabriel pushing the freshmen around or stealing food right off people’s plates at lunch. But now he knew that glint he’d seen in Gabriel’s eyes were something more akin to hate. For him. For what he was and what Gabriel would never be.



And now Gabriel had all the ammunition he needed. Perhaps that’s what Gabe had been waiting for all along—just one moment for Drew to slip up.



Drew’s thoughts turned to Chay.



He couldn’t slip up a second time.



***

Fresh from the shower, Chay paced back and forth in the living-room, anxiously twirling a long lock of wet hair around his finger. He chewed at his fingernail, a habit he’d thought he overcame at thirteen.



His cellphone lay on the table, black and silent and tempting.



Chay flicked his gaze toward it and hastily turned on his heel, walking the same few feet from one end of the couch to the other.



With an irritated huff and a decisive nod, he made himself stop pacing and rounded the couch to pick up his phone. With shaking fingers he brought up Drew’s number and typed out a quick text.



{We need 2 talk} He hit send before he could lose his head.



The answer was a long time in coming but Chay sat there with the phone cradled in his hands until it did.



{When? Where?} was all that came back.



*********************