Ground Zero

I’ve always loved Lex, but I’ve also always hated him. And that tends to make things kind of complicated.

I am not straightening my hair today, because it is January first. a day for new beginnings, and also because I don’t  feel like it. My head is pounding and my stomach roiling, but I didn’t drink last night. I just kissed Lex at the stroke of twelve.

Yeah, there it is. The first thing I did this year was make out with Lex. Way to go, self. Way to set the pace for the rest of the year. Way to stick with your one and only New Year’s resolution.

But I did it, and there’s no going back. So I leave the house without straightening my hair.

My follicles are for sure singing the Hallelujah chorus.

The stupid private school I go to is the only one in America that makes us show up on New Year’s Day (probably). Don’t they realize they’re just begging for a hungover disaster? I mean, not that there’s been one yet. But you never know, you know?

So I’m walking along and mulling this over when suddenly…

There’s Lex.

First day of the year and Lex wears a lime green suit. Of course he would. And of course he’s the one person in the wide world who looks good in a lime green suit, despite his olive skin and the neon purple streak in his otherwise jet black hair.

And his tennis shoes are blue.

He smiles nervously, showing his toothpaste-ad teeth.

“Good morning. Grayson,” he murmurs, thrusting his hands into his jacket pockets and making me want to thrust my tongue into his mouth for the second time today.

But all I really do is smile (demure is a good word here) and nod.

Lex’s shoulders drop just a bit, but the grin shines on ever so brightly. I know what I do to him, but I do it anyways.

So then he takes his hands from his pockets, letting them swing at his sides for a few moments before holding one hand out to me.

An invitation. Its RSVP will soon pass, so I’d better think – act – fast.

And because I’m feeling different, random, fresh, and new… Because I hate the way he can be so uncoordinatedly matching… Because I didn’t straighten my hair today…

I grab his hand and lace our fingers together, so that Lex and I walk to school together on January first.

*****

Shanna snorted lines off my stomach last night, which is as close as I’II ever get to doing drugs. But Shanna is my best friend, so I basically let her use me for whatever she wants.

Only right now she is looking so trashed that I rethink our whole relationship, the way I always do when this happens.

She groans when she sees Lex and me.

“Hello to you, beautiful,” I laugh in that way that isn’t really laughing. I’m not being sarcastic when I tell her she is beautiful. Even when she’s coming off a high, she is the prettiest girl I know.

“Grayson,” Shanna wails miserably, coming at me with her arms outstretched.

I drop Lex’s hand apologetically, regretfully. His eyes bore into mine for a split second and then he disappears.

Now Shanna wraps her arms around me.

“Grayson, I feel awful,” she moans. I’m used to this too. Shanna never thinks about consequences, and I always hear about it the next day.

“I feel awful too,” I admit. And I completely do. Like I said, my head? My stomach? Both going insane, but I don’t know why and then of course there is the matter of Lex.

Because I don’t know what I’m doing.

I never know what I’m doing when Lex is around. He has a hold on my brain that he won’t let go. I love him with every fiber of my being.

But I hate him for making me so stupid.

Only Shanna assumes that I mean I’m hungover, since she can’t remember enough from last night to remember that I did not drink anything stronger than Pepsi. And I was the one who drove her home.

So since she assumes that I mean I’m hungover, she pulls back from me gingerly. I don’t want her to go. I want her arms around me. She is always very warm and very welcoming.

But I don’t argue with her. It’s no use. The bell is about to ring and the day is about to start, and that is already upsetting enough as it is.

And then there’s the bell. Shanna gives me a sad smile, a tiny wave that’s really just a waggle of her fingertips, and she leaves, and now I will be alone for the rest of the day.

*****

The school is finally going to get the hungover disaster it’s been begging for, and I am going to bear the brunt of it.

If Lex were in any of my classes, he would get his share too. But he never gets his share. It’s only ever me, and that’s because I’m “the promiscuous one,” if your definition of promiscuous is someone who kisses boys unabashedly often, and Lex has only ever kissed me, as far as kissing boys goes.

Oh, and also? I turned Lex on to liking guys in the first place. I’ve always been pretty hated for that.

I could just run away, so to speak. I could skip class and go home, but that would be cowardly of me, to say the least. And I’m not like that. I don’t run.

Chris Hennessy has decided that I was wasted last night and had my kinky way with Lex. No use in trying to convince him otherwise, since he was the one who was wasted, and besides, he’s always harbored a secret crush on Lex. Though it’s not so secret to me.

The second I walk into my journalism class, it begins.

He sits in my desk, for starters. He looks like crap. Or, well, more so than usual.

I sit in the seat behind my usual one, trying to ignore Chris. As if that has ever worked before.

He calls me a faggot, but that doesn’t bother me. He grabs my wrist and yanks me forward over the desktop, but that doesn’t bother me. He wraps his hand around my throat in a choke grip, but that doesn’t bother me.

Everybody is watching, and he brings up Lex’s name. That bothers me.

I kick my legs up so my foot smashes into the back of his knee, the way he’s sitting. He drops his hold on me and lurches forward. I hope he’s in pain.

It would not be running if I left now. I whisper it to myself as I stand up to leave.

But then a fist collides with my face and I black out, so I couldn’t even run if I wanted to.

*****

I wish I could say Lex is there when I come to, but he isn’t even. Neither is Shanna. I’m not incredibly surprised. I wouldn’t expect Shanna to be there, just because she probably wouldn’t find out about something like this until way later.

And I wouldn’t expect Lex to be here since that would mean people finding out about us possibly being on-again. And God knows neither of us can handle that, even though it’s not as if Lex would get hell for it. People see him as the innocent victim, the poor guy suffering from Stockholm syndrome and then there’s me, the evil corruptor who is holding Lex captive forever.

But it so totally isn’t even like that. Lex and I pretty much love each other, I guess, for about ninety percent of the time.

The other ten percent of the time? That’s  when we hate each other, both wish we were dead, both wish the other was dead, and everyone else in the world (except for maybe Shanna, although I do have my suspicions about her too) is thrilled to pieces, because it means no more of the gay boys’ love affair for the time being.

And that is exactly what they fear and hate so much: the gay boys’ love affair. Or possibly the gay boys themselves, although I don’t think that’s it. I think they’re afraid of the fact that we are different and don’t care. We don’t fit in. Never have, never will. So they try to force us into place, but everyone knows what happens when you try to connect two wrong pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

Eventually, they break.

*****

So again, I am alone when I come to.

Well. I mean, not totally alone. The school nurse is there, but she’s weird. She doesn’t count. I couldn’t care less if she was there or not. Only she’s all bent over me ,looking  at my face.

“Um…excuse me,” I say. My voice sounds weird.

“What?” she barks. Not even “Yes?” or something polite. Reason numero uno why I hate the school nurse.

“Can I just go?” I ask her.

She sighs and walks away, grabs an ice pack from the mini-freezer and tosses it at me. “Keep the swelling down. You’II be fine in a few days.”

“Can I go home?” My head is starting to throb. I want to go to sleep.

“Go ahead. Here’s your pass.” She hands me a slip of paper and practically dropkicks me out the door.

I don’t drive. Anyone who pays attention knows this about me. I like to walk. It makes me feel more like I’m going somewhere.

So I push open the front door of the school, ignoring the security guard who is screaming at me that I can’t leave.

News flash, dude: Anybody can leave. Just not many ever do.

*****

I pass a storefront and catch my reflection. Both of my eyes are puffy and bruised. I look like hell. I sort of feel like it, too.

It’s not even like I have anywhere to go right now. I’m sort of just walking aimlessly.

I’ve gotten rid of the ice pack ages ago by this point. Don’t ask why, but I’ve always figured that if someone causes me pain, they probably had a reason, good or not, so I should experience the pain instead of trying to make it go away. That’s generally how Lex succeeds in destroying me, during those ten-percent times.

I want food. I’m not particularly hungry, but I want food. So I’m going to go to my one safe haven, the one place where I can’t be touched.

Christian is Lex’s half-brother. He is very gorgeous and very perfect. Very smart and very kind and he can cook like a wizard. He is twenty-three, lives on his own, and is not close to Lex in any way. They’re only brothers in the most technical sense of the word, and even then, they don’t even share the same mother, so as you can imagine, they’re pretty distant.

I knock on Christian’s door when I get there. The most depressing feeling washes over me, an ache in my throat like I’m going to cry. I’m not upset, but it’s just that I know that Christian will be able to make me feel better, and even though I don’t like to make my own pain go away, I so welcome other people making it go away for me.

Christian comes to the door in boxers. Um, nothing except his boxers. His hair is all over the place and he is squinting at the sunlight. Fantastic. I definitely just woke him up.

But then he opens his eyes wide, taking in my bruised face, and he grabs my arm and pulls me inside. “Grayson Ryan Carroll!” Christian exclaims. His voice is even deeper than normal, having just woken up.

“Um, Christian Mitchell Cornell?” I say softly.

His dark blue eyes fill with concern and his brows knit together. “God, Grayson, what happened?” he mutters, leading  me to the kitchen so we can sit down at the bar.

“Uh, well,” I start, “I left school. With a pass, but still. I left.”

Christian sighs. “Grayson. I know that. What happened to your face?”

“Chris Hennessy happened.”

“He’s the one who did it last time?”

“He is.”

“Why this time?”

“Because I was wasted last night and I had my way with Lex.”

I know that Christian will get it. He’ll realize that that’s not actually what happened. He’s got fantastic insight, another reason why he is my safe place.

Christian’s eyes dart back and forth between mine for a few seconds, and then he breaks the stare. “Your hair isn’t straight today.” he points out.

I sigh heavily but grin. That was exactly what I needed. “So,” I say.

“So,” he says.

I shrug. I don’t want to just ask him outright for food. That feels too much like I’m taking advantage of him.

But like I said, Christian’s got fantastic insight. He stands up and walks over to the fridge. “So, do you want something to eat, then, Grayson?” he asks.

.               “I do,” I reply. I can’t disguise my excitement. I am not fat or anything, but food – eating in general – makes me happy, and like I’ve been saying, Christian is amazing in the kitchen.

“Want anything in particular?” He opens the refrigerator.

And here it is again. It’s January first, and I feel different. Which is why I didn’t straighten my hair. Which is why I tell Christian I want bacon.

His jaw drops. “You want bacon?!” he repeats.

“Yes. I want bacon.”

“But…but you’re,l ike, the most diehard vegetarian I’ve ever known, Grayson! You haven’t eaten meat for, what, six years? Why do you suddenly say you want bacon?!”

I shrug. He may think this is completely out of the blue, but I think it’s been a long time coming.

“Geez, Grayson, are… are you sure? Are you sure you want…you want bacon?”

“You may have stuttered, Christian, but I didn’t. Can you please just do this for me?”

He looks at me long and hard, then starts pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator.

*****

I’m sitting at the bar in Christian’s kitchen eating the most fabulous BLT, knowing I’m probably going  to be sick later since I haven ‘t eaten meat in over half a decade, seeing as how I gave it up when I was twelve.

Christian watches me eat, his head resting in his hands. He’s put on a shirt and jeans by now, and I don’t think he’s in a particularly great mood. But then again, maybe that’s just me projecting.

When I’m done with my sandwich, I push the plate away. The crumbs are pissing me off for some unexplainable reason. I don’t want to look at them, but there’s nothing to do with them, nowhere to put them. So I let them sit there on the plate, looking sloppy. They’ll get cleaned up one way or another. It won’t be Christian. It won’t be me.

Time goes by really slowly when we’re sitting there in silence. I think that Christian has fallen asleep, because he’s sitting there leaning his head on one fist, his eyes closed.

Only then he talks.

He doesn’t move or open his eyes, but he says, “Grayson.”

“What?”

“Can you tell me something?” He opens his eyes now, but that’s all.

 “Um, sure? What?”

“What do you want with Lex?”

“What do I want with Lex?” I repeat incredulously. Why would Christian ask me this?

.               So now Christian lifts his head, steeples his fingers in front of his face, looks me straight on m the eyes.   ‘Grayson Ryan Carroll.” He uses my full name for the second time today. “Tell me what you want with Lex, please.”

It is in this way that Lex and Christian are alike. It is one of the only ways, in fact. Both of them have impeccable manners, in an almost old-fashioned way. Take, for example, Lex’s “Good morning, Grayson” from earlier today. No other eighteen-year-old in the world would say that to their…whatever I am to him.

I stand up too fast. My head spins, my face throbs. I fall to the floor, and so I lay there flat on my back and stare at the ceiling. Until I’m staring at Christian, because he’s come to stand over me.

Generally I could answer this question. I could tell Christian I want love from Lex, but I know I can’t have it. In a place like this, the type of love I want- that I need- is next to impossible to have and hold on to.

Only I know that Christian knows that already, so I don’t tell it to him.

But the sinking feeling in my chest returns now, which scares me, because it’s supposed to stay far, far away from me when I’m in my safe place.

So that can only mean one thing, then.

We’re about to enter into one of the ten-percent times, but this time it’s going to be different, and not necessarily in a good way, either.

*****

Lex and I are a pair. Shanna and I are a pair. When you get all three of us together, though, there’s always a definite third wheel. It’s just never clear exactly who that third wheel is.

Even though I look a mess, Lex is here. Even though Lex is here, Shanna is here. And even though Shanna is here, Lex doesn’t leave.

I am the object of attention – of affection – tonight. Lex sits up on the couch with his back against the arm rest, and I lean backwards into him, his arms tight around me and our fingers intricately Intertwined now that we don’t have to worry about anyone (except for Shanna) seeing. And speaking of Shanna, my feet rest in her lap, and she is giving me a foot massage, the way she always does on weekends.

But something is very wrong. None of us are talking.

Something has shifted inside of Lex since this morning. Something has shifted inside of Shanna, too. I can feel it, both changes, like a negative energy buzzing in the air. Something has shifted inside of me, too, probably, but I’m more concerned with Lex and Shanna and the fact that neither of them are talking to each other or to me.

A phrase that I have always hated is “elephant in the room,” but that’s the only way to describe this. My bruises are just part of it, because it goes deeper than that. Much, much deeper. And Lex and Shanna are just skirting around it.

My face hurts. I’ve got that deep, intense pain going on in my nose that makes you feel inescapably sick to your stomach. I think my nose is probably broken, except I don’t remember bleeding. I don’t think I bled, did I?

When Shanna gets up to go to the bathroom, I think that maybe Lex will talk. But he doesn’t. He remains silent, causing me more pain, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to ward off tears, causing me even more pain still.

It’s started already. We are so close right now, but still so far away, and that is how I know it’s started already.

Shanna is still in the bathroom. I have to say something to Lex.  “Lex,” is what I start with.

“Hmm?” he replies, barely moving.

“Lex, I’m sorry.” Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t be the one apologizing. After all, I’m the one whose nose may or may not be broken because I may or may not have made out with a guy who may or may not be my boyfriend.

But that’s the sort of power Lex has over me.

Lex still doesn’t move or say anything, and now I am actually getting scared.

Shanna comes back now, but she doesn’t sit on the couch where she was earlier. She instead chooses the other side of the room, as if she can sense the explosion about to occur. But much to my surprise, there is no explosion after all. Shanna leaves, and even when it’s just Lex and me, nothing happens.

My heart is racing. Why isn’t he talking? Silence is so unlike him!

My heart is also sinking as the minutes tick by. It falls deeper and deeper into some unknown abyss with every unsaid word.

My watch beeps to tell me it is midnight, and finally Lex makes a move to leave. I stand up so that he can stand too. There is a brief moment in this in which our faces are close enough that I could kiss him, or he could kiss me, but there is no kiss. His eyes meet mine instead, flashing with a fury that is gone as soon as it’s appeared, scaring the hell out of me.

Why is he angry?! What did I do?!

I walk him to the door, and we stand there in the breezeway, awkward as the first time I walked him to the door.

Usually, this is when we kiss, and he tells me good night, just like that: “Good night, Grayson.”

But now I know that the shift I sensed earlier wasn’t in him, and it wasn’t in me. It was in us as one. And this is a change that was a long time coming, because it was a matter of time before one of us was persecuted for a public display of affection between the two of us. And that is what happened today. He knows it. I know it.

We are too dangerous.

Lex does not look me in the eyes, and he does not touch me.

His voice is filled with grief. He says, “Goodbye, Grayson.”

My heart plummets all the way to the very bottom.

*****

It is a sleepless night, and when morning comes I go through the motions to get ready for school. I straighten my hair, deciding that is where I ultimately went wrong yesterday.

I am dreading this day like I have never dreaded anything else before. I know what Lex does. I know what he is going to do. He has already said goodbye, thus protecting himself from any further hurt. He has already put up his wall. The people have gotten to him. I thought he was strong enough to resist it, but I wasn’t fooling anyone except for myself. Lex has never been strong, except for when it comes to putting up this sort of barrier.

And that makes no sense at all, but that’s the way it is.

I see Lex walking when I leave  my house. His neon confidence from yesterday has dissipated into a gray thermal and a pair of jeans. His shoes are old. His hair is still wet, plastered to his forehead and to the nape of his neck. It is in this that I have some assurance that at least the break wasn’t completely clean and easy on his part.

Shanna is amazingly clueless. I could kill her for all the things she tries to do to make me feel better. She should know that right now I want nothing more than to drown in my misery.

She thinks this is just another one of those ten percent times- when Lex and I hate each other. She doesn’t know this is ground zero; there will never be another ten percent, or another ninety percent, or even, dare I hope for it, a hundred percent.

Lex and I are over.

– Karissa Jones, 1^st  Place in Short Story