New Days [Completed]

New Days: Two (II)

So I took a walk, probably  just like anyone in my place would – someone with time to kill but nothing to do or nobody to go to; ignoring the stares that followed my way. I didn’t get what the big deal was, I mean, it’s not like I had grown horns, turned green and sprouted a tail - I was still the same person! The only difference was that they knew I liked guys now. Note how there's a little 'they knew' clause in there. I was still the same person.

Geez.

Eventually I found myself at the basketball courts. I knew that it was a bad idea, but since when does anyone heed their own warning? It would lead to more problems, yet I stayed. The boys were there too, obviously, or none of this would hold any significance.

Jake.

Ray.

Ken.

Tony.

And…Mark?

Wait, what? Mark?!

I was forced to admit that he was their best choice before I could work up a fit about it, nevertheless. I didn't like him. He didn't like me. He'd been on the team before Tony, but quit when he wasn’t made captain. Which I would understand if he'd actually been deserving of it - not meaning to sound arrogant, or anything - but he had zero team spirit. He didn't like to be told what to do, nor was he capable of admitting he was wrong, so it shouldn't have been any surprise when his name hadn't been called out - not that he'd admit that, either.

Now he was back.

Hallelujah.

It's when I was just thinking about it, the possibility, that is, that, with impeccable timing, Mark looked up from the game and straight at me. A twisted, sinister grin formed on his face, and his abrupt pause served to announce my presence to the rest of them. That was the point where I could have, and probably should have turned around and left, but that wasn't something I was about to do just then.

 I wasn’t afraid of the confrontation I saw coming from miles away. What's the worst they could do to me? I was already an outcaste, which was the good thing about high school - it doesn't get 'worse' than dying a social death. Besides, I’d known that I’d have to face them at some point or another. Then was a time as good as any.

So instead of the walking away, “Oh, hey guys. What’s up?”

“What do you want?” Good to know that Jake didn’t make small talk – personally I’m not a fan of small talk. One of the many reasons I felt attracted to him…inappropriate, Max. Shut it.

“I don’t want anything. Why do you ask?”

“We don’t want you here anymore.”

“Cool.” I said that and just stood there, watching all of them. I made no motion whatsoever to indicate that I’d be leaving. I mean, he said he didn’t want me there…so what? He’d just stated what he wanted; I was under obligation whatsoever to fulfill his want.

“Go away Max. Don’t show your face to us.” I raised an eyebrow, and didn't move. I'm gay, big deal. It's not bloody contagious, but if he wanted to keep being an idiot, that was his problem. I didn't care to make him comfortable.

I honestly didn’t care…or so I told myself.

“I don’t feel like leaving.”

“Get lost.”

“Make me.”

So it wasn’t the smartest thing to say to the guy who dictionary writers probably had in mind when they’d defined ‘homophobe’, but I’d said it anyway. I wasn’t about to back down – no way in hell. He needed to know that he couldn’t go around bullying people just because they were different from him. But I had told him to make me, which was probably why he was walking towards me like gangsters looking for a fight do in movies…wow, another movie reference…

Sorry. I get distracted easily. Jake was walking towards me, his fists clenched, and Max walking behind him like the stereotypical crony. The look on his face was one of anticipation - I guess he saw a fight coming.

He was right. Sort of.

Jake threw his fist at me for the second time ever, but it didn’t connect. Nah, he may have got me once, but not again. I stopped his fist in my palm, grasped it (that’s when I realized how huge my hands really are) and twisted. Jake was surprised, of course, but retaliated quickly by punching me again: attempting to punch me again, actually. It was too bad for him that I'd watched enough movies and paid just enough attention to the tae-kwon-do lessons Mum had tried to sign me up for, really.

This ‘fight’ ended quite briefly with my having Jake’s arms pinned to his back, and my saying to him in his ear “Look, I don’t know what your problem is – go be a homophobe if you want, but don’t you DARE try that crap with me. Got it?”

With that, I pushed him away, much to the surprise of Mark who’d just been standing there - watching what he thought would enfold into The Trashing of Max Grey. Ken, Ray and Tony just look dismayed. Ray flashed me a ‘sorry, but I can’t do anything’ look, but I pretended not to have seen it. I just walked away.

I realize how macho and brave I sound, but that's just it - it's how I sound. What I felt, however, was on the other end of the spectrum that starts with bravado and ends with misery to the nth degree. I was walking away from a bully, sure, some close-minded person who I really didn't need in my life, but I couldn't forget that that's not all he was.

He'd been one of my best friends - hell, all of them, save for Mark, had been. And to think that they'd just turn away from me for something so small was like a slap to my face.

It hurt.