by Criss Copp
Several things happened in that moment!
Two patrons simply stood up and walked away in disgust.
A number of others turned in on each other and started talking rapidly.
Jordan looked as though he was going to crack up laughing.
Julie was whiter than I had ever seen her, a defeated look permeating her face.
The barista I had apologized to earlier had her hands behind her head blowing a swift sigh through her mouth and was staring our way in shock.
Blake had dropped his hand in realization of what he had said... in public.
And I spat coffee all over the table.
I slammed my coffee cup on the table, bent down to grab my board, and pulled it out from under my feet, before righting myself and sliding out from the table. I ran to the door.
Blake called out to me; he sounded close, immediately behind me in fact; he grabbed my arm as I cleared the doorway.
“Summer, stop!” he implored.
I just spun around and glared at him. God Damn it, we were in public! My cheeks were burning and we were adolescents arguing life decisions and love. We should’ve all been discussing stupid icecream flavors and the top forty charts.
“Summer, I’m sorry I embarrassed you.” He pleaded. “Can we still be friends?”
I closed my eyes... I was angry, sure. But I wasn’t about to remove him from my life. I was even perhaps a little... flattered? Aargh! Who knew... today sucked!
“Sort out your argument with your sister, but please, don’t involve me.” I said coolly.
“Are we still solid?” he asked, a real fear in his eyes.
“Yes.” I answered him. Dropping my board and steadying it with my foot.
“Summer...” Blake began, “I...” he drifted off.
I looked right at him, and gave him a vague shake of the head and bugged my eyes open, indicating I was waiting for what he had to finish saying.
“I meant what I whispered to you, immediately after our kiss, I don’t want to hurt our friendship.” He reminded and reasoned with me.
I closed my eyes, dropping my chin to my chest. I felt a little hurt and yet better all at the same time. We were too young to throw romance into a friendship and think we would come out the other side unscathed. Right now I felt like we were the most mature people standing in East Northport.
I reached around him with one arm to give him a quick embrace.
“See you tomorrow?” I asked, “If you’re up for it, its movie night... remember Tuesday is movie night throughout the break.” I reasoned.
Blake smiled brightly. “Sure.” he replied.
Chapter 3
Blake.
Fuck!
Well that was smooth...
I crossed the parking lot and found a rock to sit on in the shade of a tree, as I watched Summer skate up the road.
“That was... entertaining!” Jordan said from behind me.
I groaned and dropped my face into my hands.
“You’re serious... you’re not gay are you!” he revisited.
I couldn’t help it... this topic of conversation was so not funny anymore.
“No! And if everyone keeps this up, I’m gonna become homophobic.” I declared.
“Yeah, I’m kinda getting that.” Jordan replied. “Nice first kiss though... most guys I know would sell their left nut to kiss Summer. She’s hot!”
I smiled at myself... I wasn’t complaining!
I turned to watch her further up the street; I could barely make her out now. She had worn the top I had picked out for her last time we went shopping together... and it really suited her.
Looking down at my own clothes, which consisted of my Diesel grey/blue denim jeans and crisp white dress shirt, coupled with my red Converse sneakers, I suddenly felt overdressed. Summer preferred pre-loved thrift store buys, not that she couldn’t get her aunt and uncle to buy her designer clothes if she put on the charm, but that just wasn’t her style.
Summer had started school in Northport in 2nd grade; until then she had lived up near Lake Ontario, and then done a spot of home schooling, before landing in my class. I’d liked her immediately.
I recalled sitting in the third row in Mrs. Mapstone’s class, up in the left corner of the classroom; at the time there was a vacant desk beside me, because kids avoided me back then.
Mrs. Mapstone wasn’t a very tolerant old cow... she looked and smelled like a disheveled hoarder... and she couldn’t stand me. Maybe my constant outbursts of swearing and obstinate behavior had something to do with it... but it probably had more to do with the fact that she wasn’t allowed to discipline me... that the principal had designated me a time out room, which I was allowed to use when I felt I needed it.
At the time she walked into our classroom, I’d been doodling on a notepad that I kept with me at all times.
She was beautiful... she was wearing a pink t-shirt that had a glittery cupcake on the front of it; and she had on a knee length denim skirt, in addition to a pair of white ankle socks and white sandals. Her hair was in pigtails, but it was her face that blew me away... her hazel green and gold eyes were hypnotic... and her smile was angelic. The principal was introducing her, but I wasn’t listening... I was staring at her... and when she noticed, she gave me a shy smile... me!
After the introductions, Mrs. Mapstone asked her to find a seat, and so she made a beeline for the vacant seat next to me, however, Mrs. Mapstone grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
I noticed her eyes at this intrusion on her person... they were wide and panicked... I stood suddenly, my chair scraping back. But Mrs. Mapstone cut me down... glaring at me before softly yet cynically stating,
“No Summer... not next to Blake. You don’t want to be seated next to him my dear. He’s... shall we say... troubled!”
I was stunned into sitting back down... I didn’t want to scare this ‘Summer’ girl.
I waited till class resumed; Summer having been directed to sit next to the saccharine sweet Macy Kendall; a popular but bitchy girl; and then I left to go to my ‘time out’ room.
At lunchtime I was in the library, seated on the soft sofa at the rear of the reading area, reading A Wrinkle in Time by author Madeleine L’Engle. I didn’t play well with other children, so I often made my way to the library to read... it calmed me.
My head was bent low over my book... it was an interesting book, pitched at children above my age, but nonetheless, one I was able to follow easily. White sandals, covering white socks, covering girls’ feet were right in front of me. I knew instantly whose feet they were, and I felt a hitch in my breath.
I looked up and meant to say something snarky to keep her away from me, to warn her off, but when my eyes met hers, I saw the warmth and smile in them. So I tried to warn her off in another way.
“Mrs. Mapstone wouldn’t be pleased to know that you’ve sought me out.” I said in the biggest grown up voice I could muster.
She shrugged, smiled and put her hand out for an introduction.
“My name’s Summer Rogerson.” She began, I took her proffered hand and shook it, “And you’re Blake Austen!” she said without fear.
I gave her a confused glance and removed my hand from her grasp.
She smiled a smile and gave me a look that melted my insides. I couldn’t talk.
“You need a friend!” she pointed out kindly, “I need a friend!” she continued, “and since you have excellent taste in books,” she indicated the novel I was reading, “I can tell we’ll get along splendidly!” she said, as she bounced up onto the other side of the couch and pulled open the book she had with her... Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Patterson.
We sat there the rest of lunch in an easy and companionable silence. After lunch, Summer moved herself to the desk next to my desk; before Mrs. Mapstone noticed, and when Mrs. Mapstone did notice and mentioned the danger she was in by sitting next to me; Summer simply shrugged her quiet defiance and became in that moment my best friend!
My birthday was one week after hers, so we were very close in age. We shared similar opinions on topics that most kids didn’t even know existed... and we were also a good match academically, so we spent time on homework after school. This was how Summer was introduced to Julie, who was in Mr. Sanderson’s class, and they became friends too... Summer however, had always remained first and foremost, my best friend.
Summer maintained that life began when she moved to Northport... she didn’t talk about her previous life, and she refused when I asked, except to say that she didn’t dwell on that nightmare. I guessed there was a very good reason why she ended up living with her aunt and uncle. We all needed secrets... she still didn’t know mine!
I’d fallen in love with Summer the moment her sock and sandaled feet stood before me in the library on her first day of school. But her friendship with me superseded all of that. She didn’t appear to share my feelings, and our friendship was more important to me than anything else, for now.
However, that kiss; oh God... I just wanted to crawl inside her when I kissed her, like I needed to get really close.
I growled in frustration, I could feel Jordan’s eyes on me. He was probably confused, and certainly a little embarrassed about Julie’s and my fight.
Nobody outside of my immediate family really knew the struggle I had to contain some of my more aggressive tendencies. Everyone forgot the early years, and my destructive behaviours before Summer became a part of my life. Yet throughout it all, I still had an angry side... painting helped me contain my rage... Dr Paule had been the one to direct me to paint.
A five-year-old dealing with the aftermath of sexual molestation tended to either cave in or explode... I exploded. These days I contained the anger, especially in front of Summer; so apart from my family, no-one knew about my anger issues, or the earlier abuse. But then, Dad’s business partner had been locked away for quite some time now, and due to my age, the link between me and her just never surfaced. Julie too had been too young for her name to be bandied around... but her anger issues were getting worse, not better. She had refused all focus by the good Doctor, and lately, that was becoming increasingly obvious.
I’d had no idea that the stupid gay bullshit could get so out of hand... it was kind of funny at first. Since my growth spurt had rendered me tall and gangly, I did look more like the stereotypical persona of a homosexual man. But Julie was acting completely unreasonable... I was sure that most people would be trying to convince their gay brother that they were in fact straight, not try to convince their straight brother that they were gay. I was so full of indignation that I wanted to go back to her and go another twenty rounds. Things had to change, like now. I had a little time before we all started high school, I needed to turn things around before returning to school!
“Okay,” I began, turning to Jordan. “Tell me how to man up, at least in looks anyway, because I just can’t help the way I am otherwise.” I continued.
Jordan nodded at me, and began walking around me to check me out. Considering the recent conversation and the opinions regarding my sexuality, I felt a little uncomfortable.
“Get rid of the pink hair.” Jordan offered. “Like, now!”
“I’ll make an appointment for the hairdresser tomorrow.” I reasoned.
“Nup... today. Do it now.” He said.
“Where’s Jewels?” I asked, looking around.
“She’s fucked off somewhere... told me to go home. So it’s just you and me today, brother.” He replied, smiling.
“Fun!” I replied sarcastically.
Jordan just looked at me with a huge grin on his face.
*
Three hours later and my hair was stripped of pink and returned to my natural (almost) color, alongside a minor trim. Jordan had pissed off while I was at the hairdressers, and came back when I texted him that they were finished; so now we were heading to the gym.
Jordan was busy talking about proteins, carbohydrates and bulking up. I didn’t mind ‘getting cut’, but I didn’t have any illusions about my ability to ‘bulk up’.
This assumption was confirmed by the personal trainer at the gym we walked into.
“How old are you boy?” the ruddy looking ageing man asked.
“Fourteen.” I answered.
He huffed, and walked around me, looking me up and down.
“You have a swimmers body; you’ll never get as big as he will.” He said, pointing to Jordan.
“I don’t want to look like a gorilla; I just want to look good without a shirt on.” I argued.
He smiled, although he tried not to.
“You’re not finished growing either, so I suggest you do boot camp. A friend of mine takes it. They meet mornings at Northport Park. He’ll work your core, amongst other areas. He’ll put you through your paces boy.” He suggested.
“Work my core?” I asked incredulously.
“Believe me, it’ll kill you, and it will change your body in ways that you want.” The trainer argued.
Jordan had sat down on the carpeted floor throughout the exchange, and now he stood up, brushing his shorts off.
“Would it be good for me too?” he asked the trainer.
“Sure... you into football?” the trainer asked him.
“Yes sir.” Jordan replied.
“Then it would definitely be to your advantage.” The man offered.
Turning back to me, he continued.
“When you stop growing, you come back to me and we’ll start you on the weights.” He stated.
“Jordan already does weights.” I said.
“He’s a completely different body type.” The man reasoned. So I nodded and got the details of the boot camp guy before Jordan and I left.
Summer.
When I stepped into the house I could tell something was wrong. I could feel grief coating the air. I walked around downstairs, but nobody was there. Max and Debbie’s house was a really beautiful Californian bungalow styled home. Wood floors throughout, alongside the ‘old world’ color scheme, gave the house a decidedly rustic and comforting feel. Pictures lined the walls, and as I progressed up the stairs, I was observed climbing them by all the graduation and school photos of the four girls that had dominated this family home. I was very proud to be counted amongst them.
Making my way to the bedrooms upstairs, I narrowed in on Sally’s room.
“I’m scared.” I could hear her through the door.
“We don’t know yet if anything will show up sweetie.” Debbie answered. “Let’s stop putting the cart before the horse and wait for the results. All this worry is probably for nothing.”
What were they talking about? Sally’s results for college were back ages ago, and they were amazing. I struggled with whether I should enter my sister’s room or not. I wanted to, but perhaps I shouldn’t. Debbie had it covered.
I walked instead into my bedroom, and sat down on my queen sized bed.
Green was my favourite color, and my room relayed no exception. The walls were a sage green; the trimmings, ceiling and windows were white. The polished floorboards complimented my recycled timber furniture. The handmade quilt on my bed was made in shades of green, creams and white. My curtains were a crisp white, as were the roman blinds behind them.
On all surfaces I had collections of green Depression glass alongside a couple of leadlight glass lamps. In addition to these I had some pretty fairy’s made from pewter and glass. My desk in the corner was the only exception to my decorative rule, with a dark grey Toshiba 19in laptop the sole modern addition on display in my room, alongside a collection of more fairy’s and another lamp. I loved my room. Most of the objects were mine... presents from my new parents and their older daughters, Elspeth and Phoebe, who were in their early thirties. I didn’t have any posters on the walls; I just had a huge mirror over the head of my bed, which made the room look awesome.
I heard a muffled cry from my sister’s room, a room which was a carbon copy of my own, except her c
hosen color scheme was a burgundy color with cream trim; and she chose to display many more modern additions; in addition, she preferred white ‘stressed timber’ furniture.
Debbie’s voice cut through the cry, “Honey, please don’t stress yourself more than you have to.” She reasoned. “Do you want me to call Doctor Bardon?” she asked.
I don’t know what Sally’s reply was to the suggestion to calling her shrink, but I decided I needed to get in there immediately. I walked through our ensuite and opened the door to Sally’s room.
Sally.
I was kidding myself.
Everything had been sailing so smoothly until now. Surely things just couldn’t keep travelling so nicely. Something bad had to happen... soon. It was going to be my blood tests... they were going to reveal that I was infected with something that would not only ruin my projected career, but would see me lose Henry. I had been expecting it for years.
That fucking drug addict definitely had some disgusting disease he passed on to me... his body fluids were all over me... in me even. Some diseases and viruses take months to develop; I hadn’t been checked since I came to live here. Debbie didn’t understand. If it all went to shit now, I would lose the tenuous hold I had on reality. It was the final hurdle. Why wouldn’t I be anxious?
I kept my insecurities to myself... the relationships I had with others were what defined me and held me together... I was so broken inside that I had to feed off the strength of other’s to appear healed.
I was crying into Debbie’s arms. We were sitting on the bed.
My heart... my main reason for living all these years and hanging on, chose that moment to walk in the door.
Summer had grown into a beautiful young woman. She could seriously be a model if she wanted. But she had no desire for that. She was sweet, funny, loving... and absolutely devoted to her family and friends.
“What’s going on?” she asked, looking at me with ‘that look’ that melted me inside.
I couldn’t talk now... I began to cry in earnest. So she came to sit beside me on the other side, opposite Debbie, and she kissed the top of my head. She began to push my hair off my face and trail her fingers through it.
