The Alphabet Theory

Chapter 8

The group broke up and I immediately sped back to my dorm room without waiting for Vincent. I didn't want to have to deal with the repercussions. For the first time in a year I cried myself to sleep. The last time I did was because someone called me a faggot for the first time.

I remember that day so well.

It was in my first secondary school and it was just before exams so I had been there for only four months and I was outed a week beforehand so by that time everyone knew that I wasn't straight.

I was walking to my next class when someone shoved me against a wall.

'Faggot.' I didn't know his name but I knew he was in year eleven and I was a tiny little year seven. And him and his friends kept on doing it every day the exact same way until I took matters into my own hands and pushed him back and when I did it was only then that the teachers took action and suspended me for "bullying". When I got back, I got angrier and angrier which led to me punching him and eventually I got expelled. When they contacted my parents about my expulsion, they said it was for bullying and when I told my parents that he bullied me first all my dad had to say was,

'Boys will be boys.' And that pissed me off even more that my parents didn't care that I was getting bullied daily.

When dawn broke, I vowed to delve deeper into the layers of deception, knowing that the answers that I sought lay hidden in the shadows, waiting to be unveiled. The chase for truth had only just begun. I was supposed to have Home Economics first but on Tuesdays I got to miss it because of my therapy sessions with Mr. Cleary. The good thing about them was that he gave me a lollipop at the end. I never told anyone this, but I really enjoyed going to Mr Cleary. I avoided Vincent all throughout the classes but at lunch he cornered me in the common room.

'Valerie why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?' Vincent sounded so sad that I sort of felt bad for avoiding him. Sort of.

'No you didn't.'

'Then what is it? Is this about what you said yesterday?'

I looked anywhere except him.

'You know I don't care about any of that, right? My brother's gay. Our whole family supports him, so why wouldn't I support you?'

'How the hell was I supposed to know that? It's not like you told me!' I asked, my voice getting higher as we spoke.

'I don't know!'

'Why are you yelling?!'

'I don't know!' Vincent yelled again and hugged me tightly.

'Everyone will know by tomorrow, won't they? I don't want to have to deal with bullying again.' I whispered, gnawing at my lip and when he saw this he slapped my hand away.

'Probably, but I'm here to protect you from the bullying.'

'Oh yes because I need a puny fifteen-year-old boy to help me against shitty bullies. I'm ever so grateful for your service.' I scowl trying to break away from the uncomfortable conversation that we were having, but Vincent was not getting the hint

'I take judo lessons so I can fight them off.'

'We both know that what you just said was a giant fib.' I scowled.

We all knew it. He was a terrible liar. He always leaned on his right foot and tapped his left.

'No it isn't! I could literally take you down right now mate.'

'Alright then "mate". Keep thinking that.' I mimicked his Englishness. Sometimes I forgot how English he could be. He always spoke very carefully. He said that I spoke aggressively. Stupid Irish fecking stereotypes.