by Liane Shaw
He has been filling me in on the progress he’s been making on the project that is going to change life as he knows it in Thompson Mills. He’s been running ideas past me, and last night he practiced his speech with me over the phone. He also tried talking some more about the idea of a Pride parade here, and I keep trying to figure out a way to tell him no, without disappointing him at the same time.
He might stop talking about it after today though.
It’s Art Project Day.
Mine is on the effects of immigration on communities and vice versa. I did a collage of my own drawings as well as photographs from the Internet, showing faces of people who came here from all different countries. I drew my own grandparents as part of it, explaining that they are the reason this is personal to me. Benjamin gave me pictures of his grandparents as well, which was cool. I used a map outline of our region as a background, which was meant to be somewhat ironic seeing as we are still basically homogenous here. A lot of people who move to this country seem to end up in urban areas where there are support systems in place and job possibilities. I was trying to say that we need to offer those same opportunities here so that we create some kind of diversity in small towns. I don’t know if I managed it or not. I suppose my grade will tell me that.
I guess Benjamin’s project is about diversity as well, only an even less popular version of it, in this neck of the woods, anyway. He showed me his finished project, and it’s actually really good. Better than good. Fantastic. He decided to create something much more interesting than our original design. Taking the outline I made for him, he traced it onto a sheet of plywood, which he cut out with his mom’s jigsaw. Instead of just painting words on the outline, he made the color bands out of different sizes and shapes of stones, painting them in various shades of each color and writing the words on the largest surfaces. He did a combination of repeating the core meaning of each color and adding other words that support it. His red section had “Life” a whole bunch of times, but also words like birth and children and grow. And love.
The result is this amazing three-dimensional, incredibly tactile rainbow that Benjamin can barely carry by himself, even with his impressive muscle tone. It’s almost as wide as he is tall and weighs a lot, but it looks great and makes me wish I had spent more time on my own project.
“So, are you ready?” he asks me as we come into the room. His project is at the back of the room on a shelf because it’s too heavy for the easel at the front. He has a detailed report neatly typed out in a folder beside it in case anyone in the class wants to take a look and learn a little more about the symbolism of the rainbow flag. As if.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I answer, not sure if he’s asking if I’m ready to present my work or ready to see him do his. Either way, I’m lying.
“I hope the superglue holds,” he says, grinning cheerfully. “I’d hate for the whole thing to disintegrate in the middle of my awesome speech. Your poster looks terrific.”
“Not compared to your stone rainbow. It’s beautiful, Benjamin. Really creative.”
“Thanks. I wanted it to stand out a little. Wake people up when they see it.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about standing out today.” I sigh a little as I head over to my desk. He seems so happy with himself. I hope everyone isn’t as supremely shitty to him as I’m expecting them to be once the point of his speech gets pushed into their little minds.
The teacher makes us go in alphabetical order, which means Benjamin is about three people before me. I sit through the endless boring explanations of completely unimportant moments in history, my stomach starting to churn a little more energetically as each passing second brings Benjamin’s moment of truth closer. I check to see if he’s as nervous as I am, but he’s just sitting there like he’s actually paying attention to everyone’s work and enjoying it.
“All right, thank you, Susan. Benjamin Lee,” the teacher says in a voice that sounds more bored than she likely realizes.
Benjamin heads to the back of the room and stands by his project. There are a couple of snickers before he starts to talk, which doesn’t bode well. Are rainbows inherently funny for some reason or has the rumor mill already started again?
“My project represents the rainbow flag, which is an important symbol within the LGBTQ+ community. The rainbow flag has become one of the most universally recognized flags in the world, reaching beyond national borders and uniting people of different cultures. It is a symbol of the struggle for acceptance and the celebration of unity and pride. The rainbow represents harmony within the diversity of the community, with each color holding its own specific meaning. I used stones as my medium because they’re totally natural, just like my topic…which has personal meaning to me because I’m gay…and proud of it.”
He just spits it out like a grape seed, ignoring the instant buzz in the room as he continues on to explain the different words he’s used and why he chose them. He then goes into a bit more detail about the meaning of the different colors and how important the flag has become in the Pride movement. It’s all really interesting, at least to me, but I’ve heard it before, and I can’t stop myself from looking around the room as his voice disappears into a faint murmur that blends in with the buzzing in the room and the roaring that’s started in my ears.
Some students are just sitting there, watching with glazed looks on their faces that mean they aren’t as impressed with his stone rainbow as I am and are probably not even listening. Others are whispering to each other and staring at Benjamin instead of his project. A few people are staring at me instead of him, pointing in my direction and making I-told-you-so faces. Some of the girls are watching him and looking like they’re going to cry.
Shit. This is going to be bad. Why did I let him do this? I should have been a better friend. I should have found a way to make him stop before he started.
After ten minutes that seem like ten times that many, the teacher thanks him for sharing his project in exactly the same way she thanked everyone else. She doesn’t seem to see anything monumental in the fact that he just came out to the entire class. She asks if anyone has questions, but everyone just sits there staring at him, so he sits down, smiling at me as he passes. That starts the whispers and pointing all over again, and it occurs to me that I’ve been so worried about the effect this might have on Benjamin that I didn’t realize it would bleed over onto me as well. People aren’t blind around here. Everyone knows that we’ve become friends. Now they’re going to decide that we’re a couple. Two gay guys sitting in a tree.
I might not mind being officially “outed” by Benjamin’s art project if we actually were a couple. I think I could stand up to pretty much anything if we were together.
“That went great, don’t you think?” Benjamin asks as we walk out of the room at the end of class. He seems completely oblivious to Jonathan Avery walking behind us saying “Hey fag” in a soft voice that’s just loud enough for us to hear, but not loud enough for the teacher.
“You did a good job,” I say, as I try to shut out the eyes and fingers and voices.
“Yeah, fag, you did a good job,” Jonathan says, increasing his volume as we get farther from the classroom. He laughs as if he’s said something funny, and a couple of his friends join in.
“Why didn’t you make a rainbow too, Jackie?” This time it’s Peter Bronman. I ignore him, but he won’t let it go. He comes up beside me and shoulder bumps me. “I asked you a question, gay boy.”
Benjamin stops walking suddenly and turns to Peter. He stands there for a second, staring. He’s a least four inches taller and probably outweighs him by fifty pounds of muscle. He just stares unflinchingly, arms folded with one hand loosely curled into a fist. After a few seconds, Peter makes an I’m-too-cool-for-this face and steps back. He probably figured out that it’s not a good idea to get in a fist fight with a fag who looks like he can kick ass.
“Stup
id queer,” he says, shaking his head at Jonathan as the two of them take off to find someone else to vomit their ignorance on.
“Well, queer, fag, and gay. Quite the vocabulary for small-town assholes,” Benjamin says pleasantly and quite loudly. A couple of people standing near us laugh. I look over at them and I’m surprised to see that they’re looking at Benjamin as if they actually think he’s funny.
“It isn’t going to end there,” I tell him.
“I don’t expect it to. But they can’t hurt me if I don’t let them. That’s one thing I’ve learned. You need to learn it too, I think.”
“They can hurt you if they punch you.”
“Well, that’s debatable too. But I’ll avoid letting anyone punch me just in case. You worry too much.”
“But what if…?”
“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. Are you okay?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, I just realized that by hanging out with me, it’s going to make all those rumors about you go into hyperdrive. So, if you want me to back off for a bit, I will.”
“No!” The word shoots out so fast that he almost has to duck. He smiles as I turn every shade of red that he used on his rainbow. “I mean…you don’t have to. We’re friends, and it’s no one’s business but ours. And if they want to think I’m gay, let them.”
The words come out strong and fearless.
I think I might have to go throw up now.
“That’s good. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of me too. I think I’m going to get an A on that one. See you after school.” He heads off into the crowds changing classes, not the slightest bit worried that his life in this school has just changed for the worse.
“Hey!” Ryan comes wheeling up beside me.
“Hi.”
“So I hear you had an interesting art class.”
“Word travels fast. Class ended like three seconds ago.”
“Long enough to get a few texts out and about. Sounds like Benjamin’s more or less decided to tell everyone he’s gay. And is bringing you along for the ride.”
“It looks that way.”
“Are you okay?” he asks, the hint of worry in his voice instantly putting me on the defensive until I realize that I just did exactly the same thing to Benjamin.
“Yeah, I think I am. I mean, I don’t know how much will change for me. The rumors have been running around so long that most people have already decided anyway. Maybe they’ll stop thinking I’m a perverted drug addict who robs banks and just stick with thinking I’m gay.”
“I still think you’re a perverted drug addict.”
“Good, someone has to know the real me.”
Ryan laughs at me and then sobers up quickly when he sees Cody coming toward us.
“Oh, man, I wonder if Cody’s heard yet. He was telling me last week that he was going to ask Benjamin if he can swim because he noticed how big his shoulders and arms are. Cody’s going to freak out six ways from Sunday when he finds out Benjamin’s gay. He still hasn’t got over finding out about you!”
“That’s true. Maybe we should ask him if he wants to give Benjamin swimming lessons too. He could start a gay swim school. He’d be known as the Gay Coach. A happy little swim coach who’s opened his heart to anyone who wants to find his way across the swimming pool.” I smile sweetly as Cody reaches us. I’m not sure if he heard what I said or not, but he doesn’t look happy. Which I have to confess, makes me extremely happy.
“What the hell? He’s gay? I’ve been making comments about the guy’s shoulders and he’s gay?”
“Don’t worry, Cody. I don’t think it’s catching.”
“First you. Now him. It’s like an epidemic.”
“Definitely. We know two gay guys out of like two hundred plus guys in this school. Definitely taking over.” Ryan shakes his head.
“There could be more guys who just haven’t admitted it yet though, Ryan. Maybe Benjamin will start a trend,” I say seriously.
Ryan nods. “That could happen. You guys should start a club.”
“Actually, Benjamin said there is a rainbow club at his old school.”
“Shut up! Both of you. This is so not funny.” Cody looks like he wants to climb the walls.
“Actually, Cody. I wasn’t trying to be funny. There is a club at Benjamin’s old school, and maybe there should be one here too. I’ll sign you up.” I wave good-bye to Ryan and head off to my locker, leaving Cody sputtering away while Ryan alternates between ignoring him and laughing at him.
Rainbow flags. Rainbow clubs. And according to Benjamin, a rainbow parade.
Thompson Mills isn’t going to know what hit it.
But what worries me is wondering when it’s going to hit back.
eleven
“This is a relatively horrible time to be out of bed.” Benjamin rubs his eyes and then blinks a few times, trying to wake up. He looks like an adorable little kid, and I just want to pick him up and hug him. Except that he’s significantly taller than me and those muscles definitely make him heavier too. Not to mention the fact that this…relationship? friendship?…doesn’t include hugging.
“I know. But it’s the only time you can have this place more or less to yourself. Ryan shows up sometimes too, but I think he has morning practice today.”
“Why would he come here at…” he checks his phone “…five fifty-three in the morning?”
“Mostly I think for the same reasons as me. He comes here early just to look at the river and think without anyone in the way.” Which is why I’m standing here right now, still alive and breathing.
“I hope I’m not in your way then.” He leans on the railing and stares out over the water, shivering a little in the early morning cold. I want to put my arm around him and warm us both up. Clare would probably tell me to go for it, but there’s no way I’m ready to make that bold a move. I’m thinking I was pretty brave just inviting him here.
“If you were, I wouldn’t have asked you to come. Obviously, you wouldn’t have decided to wander out here this early on your own.” He laughs and rubs his eyes again. Seriously adorable.
“Any minute now, I’ll wake up enough to actually appreciate it. I can see why people like this town now that I’m standing here. It is gorgeous. The bridge seems pretty old though. It could use a paint job.” He’s right. The paint is almost gone now, with what’s left on the aging wood slowly weeping off in tiny, faded red tears that end up in the river.
“It’s been here as long as the town. I don’t think it’s been painted the whole time I’ve been living here.”
“How long has that been?”
“Oh, since I was pretty small. Twelve years, give or take.”
“That’s a long time to live in a place that you don’t feel like you fit into. Must have been hard.” He takes a stone and tries to skip it across the water, but we’re too high up and it just drops and disappears.
“I guess so. Some days are harder than others.” I gaze down at the water, remembering, in spite of myself. I imagine what it looked like to Ryan sitting up here watching me that day. I can almost see the yellow skirt floating just below the surface as the rest of me disappeared from his view. What I can never imagine, no matter how many times I try, is how he got himself down there in time to drag me out and save me.
“Do you mind talking about it?” I blink a couple of times at Benjamin who is watching me closely and reading either my face or my mind.
What the hell is wrong with me?
It.
He doesn’t have to explain what he means. Why did I bring him here, where it happened? This bridge is such a swirling mass of emotions for me, all blending together until I don’t know where one starts and the other ends. I don’t know why I thought I could just come here and pretend it’s some kind of a happy place for me. I do love looking at th
e water. It can calm my insides and help me to think. But it also reminds me of the times in my life when thinking wasn’t enough, and I literally took things too far. What made me think I could hide that from Benjamin?
Matthew says it’s good to think about it. To remember and understand my own feelings. But it is so much harder to do than it sounds. Sometimes I feel like there’s more than one of me in here—Jack and Jackson coexisting, each of us just watching and trying to figure out what the other one is doing and why. One of me standing on the bridge watching while the other tries to escape.
I know that Benjamin has heard the story of Ryan’s rescue by now. He’s never mentioned it to me before though. Before I brought him to the scene of the crime.
“I don’t know if I mind. I don’t really talk about it much unless my counselor or my mother makes me.” Great. Now you just told him you’re getting your already tiny head shrunk. Another rumor confirmed.
“That’s fine. I don’t want to intrude. I just want you to know that you can talk to me if you want to. I’ve been fairly lucky because my family always accepted me, and so did most of my friends, but I still know what it feels like to be shit on by jerks for who I am.”
“Especially since you moved here!” Things haven’t improved in the weeks since Art Project Day. They aren’t particularly worse either, which I guess is the glass half full way to look at it. Mostly just insults and a few hopefully empty threats now and then. At least that’s all I’ve heard at school. It probably helps that Benjamin’s mom is the VP. Gives him a bit of a protective bubble.
I really thought that my friendship with Benjamin was going to make rumors turn to instant reality, which would make it open season on me, but it doesn’t seem to be happening. Nothing feels that different for me.
No, that’s not true. Everything feels different. It’s not just me now. It’s both of us, which probably sucks for Benjamin who was being stalked by adoring crowds when he first came but now is followed by jerks who get their personal thrills trying to make other people feel like shit. Trying is the operative word here, because it really doesn’t seem to work. Nothing these people come up with seems to bother Benjamin one bit. It all seems to bounce off the bubble and just float up into the atmosphere.
