Chapter 20: Riot at the Red Bean
[Pink Bean Cafe, A Few Blocks From School, 9:06 PM, Knuckle Blisters]
(Oscar runs into the cafe, but Fender and Ronny are nowhere to be found; panting, he runs back out and skirts around the building)
RONNY: "Hey, look, Fender. Your boyfriend's come to share your load."
IGOR: "Or swallow your load." (laughter)
(Oscar can barely make out their faces in the dark; there's a shadowy lump on the alley floor that's probably Fender)
OSCAR: "Um - so - "
RONNY: "Look, Oscar, you probably don't want to see this. You can either leave and we'll forget you were here, or you can try to do something about it and get your balls kicked up to your chest."
OSCAR: "I'll - uh - take my chances?" (he starts walking forward)
KHASHAR: "Should we beat him up too?"
RONNY: "I don't know. It's probably not worth it."
OSCAR: "You're probably right, Ronny. If you beat up another useless fucking faggot what will you get? A couple painful knuckle blisters in exchange for the sweet release you get from bloodying up another gay? I don't know how to weigh those factors."
RONNY: "You should probably stop talking now, fag."
OSCAR: "Ouch. That was a good one. Original. Really seared my soul."
RONNY: (to his boys) "Let's do it. Then let's just leave them here."
OSCAR: "Are you sure about that?" (looks at Igor) "Remember two nights ago, when Emma called you out for being a fucking rapist, Igor? Think that allegation's gonna slide just because the newspaper forgot to mention you? I've got all your dirt, man."
IGOR: "What dirt?"
OSCAR: "Your little trophy gallery, compacted into a convenient little SD card. And I thought the video of Fender was bad; but once your videos get out..."
RONNY: "He's bluffing, man. Don't sweat. I said don't sweat!"
IGOR: (to Ronny) "Nah - I was looking for that card a few days ago and I couldn't find it. I thought I lost it."
RONNY: "Your room is worst than Auschwitz - you probably did lose it."
OSCAR: "Fifty-seven Cherryball Lane. Your room is on the bottom floor. Easy pickings, Bobko."
IGOR: "You fucking - " (Ronny holds him back) "I'll report you to the police for breaking and entering!"
OSCAR: "The only breaking I plan to do is breaking your sanity, not that you had much of that to begin with. The police won't really believe what you say, anyways, when you're in juvenile detention for rape. If you go now, I'll destroy the card."
KHASHAR: "Let's go guys."
(hesitation)
OSCAR: "Or I could have all those videos out by midday tomorrow. Your choice."
RONNY: "We're going. Have fun cleaning up the mess, faggot." (Ronny spits at Oscar's feet as he and his boys walk off)
[Alley beside the Pink Bean Café, A Few Blocks From School, 9:13 PM, Just Imagine This]
(Oscar takes out his phone flashlight and crouches next to Fender)
OSCAR: "Jesus Christ - "
FENDER: (clearly beat up and woozy) "Stop - "
OSCAR: "Are you okay? Well - I mean - you clearly aren't okay - but... are you... dying? Is that - Fuck. Sorry. That was a bad question. Uh. Sorry, I'm bad at this. I don't know what to do. Do you need to go to the hospital? I can take you there - "
FENDER: "No hospital... please."
OSCAR: "Is it just your face?"
FENDER: (he swallows his own blood and tries repositioning his jaw in preparation to talk) "They tried..."
OSCAR: "They tried what?"
FENDER: (he scrunches up his eyes at the memory; his voice is all weak and scratchy) "Cutting off..."
(Oscar looks down and sees a blood stain by Fender's crotch)
OSCAR: "No way - what - No, Fender - Did they - "
FENDER: (shakes head slowly) "Just cut my pelvis."
OSCAR: "Thank God. I mean - no - I'm not thanking him that you're hurt - just that you still have... your little friend." (cringes at his own words) "Why are you wet?"
FENDER: "Bucket of water..."
[Enter Basil]
BASIL: "Oscar?"
OSCAR: "I'm back here."
BASIL: "Lord Jesus - is that Fender?" (wheels herself into the alleyway; clearly panting) "Where's Ronny?"
OSCAR: "They left. Can we - can you - I need to take him somewhere - "
BASIL: "Calm down. Put him on my lap."
OSCAR: "But - "
BASIL: "My legs are numb and paralyzed, Oscar, I wouldn't be able to feel him on me even if he was unbearably heavy. This kid is 135 pounds, tops."
(Oscar helps Fender to his feet; as soon as Fender stands he passes out; he's positioned to lie across Basil's lap; Oscar starts pushing Basil's wheelchair down the street as fast as he can)
...
[His House, The Suburbs, 9:38 PM, Straight Sex?]
BASIL: "My dad's coming to pick me up in three minutes."
OSCAR: "You can sleep over if you want."
BASIL: "Nah, I need to take my meds. Text me how it goes, okay?"
OSCAR: (opening the front door to let her out) "Thanks, Basil. For everything. Literally. Everything."
BASIL: (proud smile) "I'll watch you cry and carry your beat-up friend in my wheelchair across town any night, Oscar. Any night."
[His room, His House, 9:42 PM, Painful Sex?]
(Oscar closes the door to his bedroom as softly as possible)
OSCAR: (whispering) "Fender?"
FENDER: (Fender sits up in the bed and squints; he's obviously confused) "..."
OSCAR: (observing Fender's state in the lamplight) "I think... you need... a shower..."
FENDER: (voice weak) "Am I at your house?"
OSCAR: "Yeah. This in comparison to your house is probably supremely anti-climactic. Come on."
[His ensuite, His House, 9:44 PM, Bathroom Sex?]
(Oscar helps Fender sit on the floor of his bathroom)
OSCAR: "Change of plans. I think if I try to shower you you're going to end up drowning in my bathtub. But we need to - um - take off those - uh - clothes of yours."
FENDER: (still woozy but starting to come to his senses) "Can you try saying that in a non-creepy way?"
OSCAR: (doin' a lil strip tease) "I'm gonna slip off your clothes with my teeth, you sexy animal."
FENDER: "Still creepy."
OSCAR: (mumbles) "I can't win with you." (retrieves a pair of scissors from a drawer)
(Oscar sits on the floor in front of Fender and gathers the bottom of his shirt in preparation to cut it off; realizes he should probably half-straddle Fender to work properly; he does it uncomfortably; slowly starts cutting up Fender's shirt)
FENDER: "This shirt was sixty dollars."
OSCAR: "It's a t-shirt."
FENDER: "It cuts just the same as a five-dollar t-shirt."
(Oscar eases the remains of the shirt off Fender's shoulders and throws it in the trash)
OSCAR: "That was probably unnecessary, but I saw people doing it on Code Black so I just thought I had to. Sorry."
FENDER: "Do you need to cut my pants off too?"
OSCAR: (flustered) "No. I need to put a bandaid on your cut."
FENDER: "The one that's above my crotch?"
OSCAR: (reaches into his drawer to pull out a bandaid) "Yep. And then I need to put something on your face and... everywhere else. Probably ice. I think ice is good. Right? Okay. Bandaid time."
(With meticulous precision and unwavering focus, Oscar places a small lil bandaid on a drying cut twice its size; he sits back on Fender's lap to observe his work)
OSCAR: "It'll have to do."
FENDER: "I think you need a bigger bandaid."
OSCAR: "Shut up. I'm the doctor, here. I'm going to the kitchen to get ice. Don't move."
FENDER: (shifting uncomfortably as Oscar stands) "Wasn't planning to."
[His room, His House, 10:01 PM, Misleading Icebergs]
OSCAR: "You should take your pants off, right?"
FENDER: "You're going to want to be a bit more alluring than that."
OSCAR: "You can do it in a non-sexy way. We're all bros here."
FENDER: (slowly unbuttoning his pants) "That's the gayest thing I've ever heard."
(Oscar tries to do anything else but watch as Fender takes his pants off)
FENDER: "I'm afraid to get in your bed."
OSCAR: (quickly) "Why?"
FENDER: (gives him a knowing look) "..."
OSCAR: "It's not like you sleep in cleaner conditions."
FENDER: (climbing into bed) "I have a maid."
OSCAR: "Of course you do." (starts stacking frozen pees and ice packs all over Fender)
FENDER: "Fuck - that's cold - "
OSCAR: "Shh."
(...)
(Fender is now Ice-Fender; Oscar lays a blanket out on the floor and lays out on top of it; he reaches up and turns the lamp off)
(...)
FENDER: (voice in the dark) "You're sleeping on the floor?"
OSCAR: "You're the injured one here, Fender. You need my bed more."
(...)
FENDER: (quietly) "How do you do it?"
OSCAR: "Sleep on the floor? It's not that hard. You just got to stab your ego a few times."
FENDER: "Not that. How do you live as yourself. How are you yourself and nobody else and you don't feel the need to apologize for it."
OSCAR: "I'm not."
FENDER: "And you're humble, too. Jeez, Oscar."
OSCAR: "I'm not unapologetically myself."
FENDER: "You're the most interesting kid in that musty joint. I can list off all the things that make you unique. The way you dress like you're still living in the 90s. The way you watched that documentary in ninth grade and made a pledge to never eat an animal again. The way you protest and demonstrate even if the whole school thinks you're a crazy libtard. And even though you have to balance all this, you're kind, on top of it all."
OSCAR: "You know that idiom about the iceberg that's tiny above the water and huge below the water? But you can only see the tiny little top and you assume that's how big the iceberg is? I'm the iceberg."
FENDER: "You're telling me there's more to you than all that?"
OSCAR: "Of course there is. Just like there's more to you than just a cherry-popping-run-of-the-mill-academically-gifted-resident-cutie-pie-nice-boy."
FENDER: (thoughtful) "I guess you're right."
OSCAR: "Maybe everyone is an iceberg."
FENDER: "I think you and I are the most misleading icebergs."
OSCAR: "I bet you look a lot like an iceberg right now."
FENDER: (over the crinkling of ice packs galore) "Yeah."
(...)
FENDER: "Can you just sleep up here?"
OSCAR: (trying to be cool) "Need someone to warm you up, ice-boy?"
FENDER: "I need someone to remind me that Ronny isn't about to walk through those doors."
(Wrapping his blanket around him, Oscar stands and slithers into bed beside Fender)
OSCAR: "Better?"
FENDER: "Yeah."