A Very Queer Reality

(Chapter 13) Not Quite A Resolution

I barely remembered waking up, but I remembered Kelsey leaving. I remembered her brother coming to get her and being in a down mood. I figured she caught onto that. I did't know why she had to go, or how long I'd be alone. Carol wouldn't be home until the next Thursday, so without Kelsey I had no one.

My apartment was empty

and I was utterly

alone.

I didn't like it one bit. I didn't like the thoughts in my head, I didn't like the situation at school. I didn't like the time it gave me to think.

And think,

and think,

and think some more.

About Jennifer (who is apparently that cheerleader). About what she did.

About Casey, and the last things he said to me.

I didn't like any of it, and so I did nothing. Absolutely nothing. I was numb.

I didn't move from my bed, I didn't eat, I only slept a dreamless sleep and woke up to go to the bathroom. This was my pattern until Monday morning.

I was probably starving, but I opted to skip breakfast. My normally semi-fitted Fall Out Boy tank top hung loosely off my shoulders. I left my hair ruffled from bed and remained in my dark red sweats. School was the same, except Kelsey was crying, and I wanted to cry too, but I didn't. I talked with her for a bit before she went to the lounge for the last half of the day after lunch.

"Dad said he doesn't want me staying with you every night. He thinks you're going to take advantage of me. I explained to him that you're gay, and that I'm gay, and he slapped me. I haven't seen this man in eight months and the first time I do, I have to come out and I get slapped. Everything's falling apart Kyle," she cried into my better shoulder at the round table in the back of the school library. 

"I know, Kelsey, I know."

At lunch I ate for the first time since Friday, which made me feel sick, but I felt more relief to have appetite again, and to be filling that appetite.

Obviously Kelsey wasn't going to be coming home, so as school ended, I prepared to walk to the apartments alone. Down the stairs I so often ascended and descended, I felt a wave rush over me: reflection on last Friday. A sob built up in my throat, but I kept it down and trudged forward, drenched in terrible feelings. I watched my feet as I walked, not looking up until the curb of the parking lot was beneath the edge of my Converse. Upon looking up, however, I was confronted with a glare from some jock five feet in front of me. He got out of his car and marched toward me.

"Who do you think you are?" he spat like he'd been waiting for this.

"Umm.." I wasn't sure what this was about. Nothing had really happened on a large-scale lately.

"You got my best friends arrested and then you made out with my girlfriend?!?" his voice boomed over me. I didn't understand. But then I did.

"Okay, first off mister, your friends fucking shot me!" I took a deep breath and a step back, "And your girlfriend? Have you seen how loyal she still is to that quarterba-"

"Don't bring him up," his harsh words sent chills down my spine. "You still made out with her. What is your deal, man? I thought you were a fag, huh? What are you now?"

"I still like boys," I muttered under my breath with a frown, "Look, Jennifer approached me after school yesterday and mocked me and then tried to kiss me and wouldn't get off. My friend had to come help me get away from her!" I knew he wouldn't believe this, even though it was the truth. "And even if I liked girls, I wouldn't like her."