Boy Queen

by George Lester

  ‘OK,’ she says softly, her mood moving from murderous bear to mother hen in the blink of an eye. ‘I don’t know Connor, do I?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Is he a friend?’

  ‘Um . . .’

  ‘More than a friend?’

  ‘Well . . .’

  She sighs. ‘I might need more syllables. I might be a mum, but I’m not a mind reader, much as I wish I was,’ she says. ‘Do you want some tea?’

  ‘It’s late.’

  ‘It’s tea, what are you, eighty?’ I look up at her and she’s smiling. She walks to the kitchen and I hear her fill up the kettle and put it on. I also hear the clattering of biscuits falling on to a plate, so I know she’s already figured out what the situation requires. She might not be a mind reader, but she’s pretty close.

  ‘OK,’ she says, carrying the two mugs of tea to the dining table. ‘At the risk of setting you off singing, I’m going to say, let’s start at the very beginning.’

  ‘I’ve heard it’s a very good place to start,’ I say.

  ‘You know, I’ve heard that too!’ she says. ‘Sit.’

  I peel myself off the floor and join her.

  ‘Are you sure you want to hear this?’ I say, taking a sip of my tea. ‘It’s long and I don’t think I come off particularly well in it.’

  ‘Sweetheart, you’ve not come off particularly well at all recently, so I wouldn’t worry about it too much,’ she says, taking a biscuit. ‘Go on.’

  ‘It started in detention—’

  ‘You had a detention!’

  ‘Yes,’ I say, impatient. ‘In September, come on, Mum, you know that.’

  ‘Why did you have detention?’

  ‘Because I told Mrs Finch to bite me.’

  Mum nearly chokes on her biscuit, unable to keep the smile off her face. ‘I don’t remember that. Why did you do that?’

  ‘I don’t remember – it was something about auditions I think, but she wasn’t happy about it.’

  ‘Was I?’

  ‘You high-fived me after I did it,’ I say.

  ‘I did?’

  ‘Seriously, Mum, some consistency in your parenting would be so good every once in a while,’ I say.

  ‘Don’t push it,’ she says. ‘Carry on.’

  ‘We were in detention, the teacher had abandoned us to go and do some printing or something, so we were left alone,’ I say. ‘We’d never really spoken before. I thought it would just be a lot of awkward silence, but then he started asking me about gay stuff.’

  ‘Gay stuff?’ Mum says it like the absolute vaguery that it is. ‘What’s gay stuff?’

  ‘He asked me how I knew I was gay, stuff like that,’ I reply. ‘And I told him that I just knew, because I did.’

  ‘Christ, Robin, this is starting to sound like the start of a porn film.’

  ‘I don’t want to know how you know that,’ I say. ‘But he asked if I’d kissed a boy and I said I hadn’t, so he asked if I wanted to kiss him, and one thing led to another and we started kissing and he gave me his number and then we’ve pretty much been sneaking around kissing and . . . doing other things for the past six months.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And I didn’t even notice!’ She sits back in her chair and takes a sip of her tea. ‘Maybe I’ve been working too much because you’d think I’d notice something like that.’

  ‘Honestly, Mum, I was waiting for the day that I came home and you said, “So, Robin, who the fuck is Connor and when do I need to buy a hat for the wedding?” you know?’

  ‘OK, first of all, I do not sound like that,’ she says. ‘But why do I get the feeling that this isn’t the whole story?’

  And she says she isn’t a mind reader.

  ‘Well, because it isn’t,’ I say. ‘He’s nice and everything, when we’re together, but when we are at school it’s all hush hush and no one is allowed to know.’

  ‘He’s in the closet?’

  ‘So far in the closet he’s in Narnia,’ I say. ‘And I don’t mind that, it’s his choice if or when he decides to come out, but he doesn’t talk to me at school and he doesn’t really treat me all that well when we’re there because his friends are pricks and . . .’

  ‘And what?’

  And I’m crying again because this story just sucks so much.

  ‘And I didn’t tell you because it was his friends who beat me up over the summer,’ I say. ‘He didn’t do anything, like, he didn’t hit me or hurt me or anything like that, but he didn’t stop it either.’

  ‘And you dated him?’

  ‘He apologized,’ I say. ‘His family is homophobic and awful, so are his friends, and . . . he was sweet.’

  She raises an eyebrow. ‘That’s not all, is it?’

  ‘He and his friends saw me outside Entity and he called me a faggot,’ I say. ‘When we were there last Monday night, he saw me in the street and his friends came over, and he didn’t stand up for me. He just watched it happen and he even kind of joined in and if it wasn’t for Seth . . . I mean, shit, I need to start saving myself one of these days, huh? If it wasn’t for Seth stepping in, it might have happened all over again and . . . and it just . . . I don’t know, it sucked. Like, I really liked him or I thought I did, and for him to do that to me when we’d been together for six months and so much had happened and . . .’

  I trail off as I see Mum’s expression. She’s utterly horrified. And I am too, but there is still that bit of my brain that is coming up with excuses for him and I need to shut that off. I need this part of my life to be over.

  The tears are rolling down my face now. I hate that he makes me feel this way.

  ‘He was my first everything,’ I say quietly. ‘Like, absolutely everything and . . . I don’t know, I wish I hadn’t given it away to someone who just doesn’t deserve it.’

  ‘You had sex with him?’ Mum asks. I can hardly believe I am sat at our dining table, crying and talking about sex with my mum. I want the earth to swallow me up.

  I nod.

  ‘Were you safe?’

  ‘Mum!’

  ‘Were you?’ she asks. ‘Look, I don’t want gory details. I just want to know that you used a condom – it will give me peace of mind.’

  ‘We did, yeah, every time,’ I say. ‘They scared the shit out of us at school about STIs – there was no way we weren’t. I just feel so stupid. I gave him so much headspace and it was all for bloody nothing.’

  ‘OK, Robin, I love you, but you do have a flair for the dramatic,’ she says. ‘Nothing is ever for nothing. Practically everything happens for a reason, even some of the shit stuff. This has taught you to expect more from people, and to not spend so much time on the ones who just aren’t worth it. You deserve someone who treats you like a prince, not like some dirty little secret. You are no one’s dirty little secret, Robin.’ She takes a breath. ‘As for the virginity stuff, well, virginity is a myth invented by the patriarchy to make women feel bad. It’s now making you feel bad because HELLO, the patriarchy affects everyone, including men. So you slept with him,’ she says. ‘The saying is, you’ve got to kiss a lot of frogs, but you’re obviously taking the study a little further than that.’

  ‘Gross.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  She moves around the table, sitting down on the chair next to me. ‘Look,’ she says. ‘Men can be absolute shits sometimes, yourself included. But don’t let him get you down. If he tries to talk to you at school tomorrow, tell him to piss off. Or get Natalie to do it – she’ll probably enjoy it if he’s been treating you like shit. Or Seth. He doesn’t sound like a fan either.’ She pauses and eyes me carefully. ‘Do I know Seth?’

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘Seth’s new.’ And that seems to be enough for her not to press it.

  ‘What?’ she says. ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘It’s just that . . .’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Connor is really going through it too, Mum,’ I say. ‘He
’s so scared of what his friends would say if they found out, of what his family would say and—’

  ‘No, Robin, stop this,’ she snaps. ‘Stop making excuses for him, OK?’

  ‘But, Mum, he’s not a bad guy, I swear.’

  ‘That’s no excuse. He should have stepped in, he should have said something, not just let all that happen to you,’ she says. ‘Both times. Whether he knew you or not, what happened to you was wrong.’

  ‘But, Mum—’

  ‘Don’t “but, Mum” me, Robin, come on! I raised you better than this!’ she says, banging the table. ‘What he did to you is not excusable on any level. He’s allowed to not be out and to come to terms with his sexuality in his own time, that’s his prerogative, but to have you sneaking around and feeling this way, and to not even defend you from his friends, and then to call you a . . .’ She takes a breath. ‘You know, if he was still at the door, I would tear his head right off.’

  ‘I know, that’s why I told him to go,’ I say.

  She sighs. ‘No more excuses for him, OK? He’s going through his own shit, sure, but that doesn’t give him carte blanche to treat you this way. You’re worth way more than that.’

  She stands up and wraps her arms round me, kissing the top of my head. ‘It’ll be OK, my love,’ she says. ‘You’ve been through the shit and you’re still alive. Shake him off and move on. There is a lovely guy out there waiting for you, and if he doesn’t give you the absolute world then don’t give him the time of day.’

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Seth rushes over, practically breaking into a small run, his satchel bashing against his leg as he approaches. Wow. I have a boy running towards me. Past me would lose his mind if he knew that.

  ‘How are you doing?’ he pants, a little out of breath as he reaches me. He leans on the wall near the bike sheds while I lock up. His cheeks are red, and there’s the tiniest bead of sweat clinging to his forehead. How can he make sweaty look sexy? I don’t understand it. It must be a perspective thing.

  ‘I’m OK,’ I say. ‘Everything with Mum is . . . a lot. Stuff happened last night and we actually talked, which was nice and . . .’ I trail off. ‘You don’t want to hear about that. I’m sorry.’

  ‘What? Yes I do.’

  ‘Come on, Seth, I feel like all I do is talk about me,’ I say. ‘Everything I have is drama and ridiculousness. Let’s talk about something else.’

  When I’ve locked up my bike, he pulls me into a hug and I breathe him in, hugging him back.

  ‘What’s this for?’ I ask.

  ‘You look like you need a hug,’ he says. ‘And I give good hugs, so it just makes sense.’

  ‘So, it’s a service you’re providing?’

  ‘Free of charge for you, Robin,’ he says, letting me go. He’s so corny it hurts me.

  ‘Oh my God, this is getting boring now.’ He points over to the tech block where Connor is standing with his friends, a cloud of smoke encircling them. Some vape, some smoke weed, either way they’re a cluster of bad smell and I don’t want to be near them. ‘Head honcho of the Robin Cooper fan club.’

  ‘I really don’t want to get into this right now,’ I say. I know I need to talk to Connor today, but not now, not like this. I’ll get him alone and I’ll break it off with him, but right now I just need to get inside.

  We walk by Connor and his friends. I try not to look. And I mean I really try, but there’s that little connection sparking up again. So I look and he’s staring right at me, his eyes all big and pleading, seemingly not afraid to hide the fact that he’s looking at me from his friends, which is dangerous. I’m not about to let him do that, so I turn away, and keep walking, round the corner and towards the school, keeping my focus on Seth because that feels safer.

  ‘Robin?’ I’m not expecting to hear Connor’s voice so I actually jump a little, which is kind of embarrassing. I turn to see him, alone. ‘Robin, come here. Talk to me.’

  I look around, trying to see if a couple of his friends have followed him round the corner. Some are watching him and my entire body is tense. He’s staring at me so intently it actually scares me a bit.

  ‘Connor, don’t do this,’ I say quietly. ‘Not here. Think about it.’

  ‘Please,’ he says, advancing on me. I step back. ‘What do you want me to do? I’ve said I’m sorry, I’ve come to your house—’

  ‘He came to your house?’ Seth asks.

  ‘This doesn’t concern you,’ Connor growls.

  ‘I think it does,’ Seth says, stepping forward. I can see his fists clenched at his sides and I’m scared.

  ‘Whatever,’ Connor grumbles, turning his focus back to me. He’s so close right now I can feel the heat of his body. The energy coming off him is chaotic and unstable, like not even he knows what he is going to do next. ‘Robin, I don’t know what you want me to do, but you can’t keep ignoring me.’

  His friends are still there and I don’t want him to say something he can’t take back.

  ‘Connor, this is over. Stop it, OK?’

  He reaches forward and grabs my arm. I see Seth stiffen next to me. ‘Robin, we can work this out. Why won’t you give it a chance?’

  I try to pull free. Seth is staring at Connor’s hand gripped round my arm. I don’t want this to escalate, I so don’t want this to escalate. ‘Connor, let go of me,’ I say, trying to keep my voice steady because if I sound even the slightest bit distressed Seth will probably step in.

  Connor grabs hold of my other arm and pulls me closer to him, his breath on my face, hot, wet, stinking of cigarettes. His grip is so tight I’m wincing, tears threatening to squeeze from my eyes. ‘Robin, I—’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Seth announces, grabbing hold of Connor and practically dragging him off me. ‘He asked you to let go – he clearly doesn’t want to talk to you – maybe you should just go.’

  Connor pushes Seth hard in the chest. ‘Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?’

  Seth stumbles but recovers and pushes Connor back. He trips over his own feet, almost falling to the ground. ‘Robin won’t stand up to you, but I will,’ Seth says. ‘Now back off.’

  ‘Make me.’

  ‘I think I just did,’ Seth snaps. I’m shaking. I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me, least of all Seth. ‘Now walk away.’

  His friends are approaching now – they know something is up. Other students are gathering too, sniffing a fight from a mile off.

  Connor steps towards Seth and he pushes him again, harder this time so Connor actually lands on the ground.

  ‘Don’t get up,’ Seth shouts. ‘And stay away from Robin, OK?’

  Connor stays down and Seth turns to walk away, but before I have a chance to breathe a sigh of relief, Connor is back on his feet and has launched himself at Seth, the two of them gripping each other and wrestling to the ground.

  ‘Stop it! Both of you, stop!’ I shout, trying to pull them apart.

  Connor ends up on top of Seth, managing to land a punch on Seth’s face. The crowd gasps and I hate that this is turning into some kind of sideshow. I grab Connor and haul him off Seth, finding some kind of strength I didn’t know I had as he stumbles away from us both. But that only gives Seth a chance to get back up, throwing himself at Connor and smacking him in the nose with a right hook. I swear I hear a break; I know I see blood and Connor stumbles to one side to lean on a wall.

  A few moments later, Connor starts towards Seth again, and I can’t let this go on. I hurry to stand between them.

  ‘No more!’ I shout, putting a hand up, as if that would stop a raging Connor. ‘That’s enough.’ I walk over to Connor, keeping my voice as low as I can. ‘I’m not doing this any more, Connor. You’re not ready for any of this, OK? And I don’t want you making a scene and outing yourself because of me. I don’t want you to do that.’

  ‘But, Robin—’

  ‘No, Connor, look, there’s an alternate universe where everything in life is perfect and maybe you and me work out, but i
n this timeline it’s not happening,’ I say. ‘You need to figure out your shit, but you need to figure it out without me. We’re through. Don’t ever come near me again.’

  I turn round and see Seth nursing his hand, wincing. He’s still staring Connor down, like he wants to rip him apart. His jeans have what I think is a new rip in them and there is already a bruise blooming beneath his eye. I walk over and brush the gravel off him, and he’s still staring at Connor as I do it.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper. ‘You didn’t have to do that.’

  ‘You were seeing him?’ he asks, disgusted. ‘Why didn’t you say something?’

  ‘I’ll explain later,’ I say, and I turn back to see Connor walking away. The crowd disperses and Connor heads back over to his friends. I should hate him right now, but I just hope he’s going to be OK. I hope they didn’t hear too much. ‘We need to get you some ice or something. Come on, I’ll take you to the medical room.’

  ‘Can we not?’

  ‘Seth, you’ve been punched in the face. You need ice or—’

  ‘Somewhere else?’

  I don’t get it, but I don’t need to get it. He’s just saved my face at the expense of his own. I owe him.

  We head inside, past reception, past the medical room and to the bathroom. It’s empty, everybody in class getting registered by now. I grab a couple of paper towels and wet them, channelling my inner primary-school nurse.

  I pass them to Seth who gingerly presses them to his eye, wincing a little on first contact. The wince is the tiniest stab of guilt.

  ‘So, why not the medical room?’ I ask as I pass him another paper towel for his hand.

  ‘Thanks,’ he says. ‘My record is bad enough as it is. I don’t think breaking someone’s face is going to go down too well. So . . . thank you.’

  ‘Don’t mention it,’ I say. ‘Besides, shouldn’t I be thanking you?

  He shakes his head and we head back outside, taking a seat on a bench near the entrance to the school. It’s a little cold, and the dregs of students heading into school for registration are huddling into their jackets. The late ones, the naughty ones. Christ, when did I become one of them?