Before The Sunrise

concern

Without anywhere else to go, I end up at Bradford's office early. He's gone when I show up, which is unusual even if I'm early, but it's just as well. I don't feel like answering to Coach's concerns about me today. I'm tired of his smothering worry. All it does is make me feel guilty. I'm so tired. And everything hurts. And I know if he asks too many questions, I'll start crying and embarrass myself.

Since he's not here, I flop onto the couch and close my eyes, hoping to be asleep by the time he shows up.

If only it were that easy. No matter how exhausted I am, my consciousness doesn't want to let me fall asleep. The pain in my body threatens to become overwhelming, and no matter how hard I try, I can't stop thinking about Rafa. I know it seems stupid to get stuck on a relatively short-term high school relationship with everything else there is to focus on, but I can't help it.

I never meant for it to go so far. I never meant for him to know everything. Before I met Rafa, I had consigned myself to a life in the closet. Even after we started seeing each other, I never really wanted him to see the darkest parts of me, the parts that are still charred by my parents' fires. But once he did, this dangerous flicker of hope sparked inside me.

Was I stupid to think that I could be loved, kept, wanted? Was I stupid to think I was worth the shit that I drag with me? Is my father the only person who would be willing to deal with all of my trauma?

Will he still want me when he finds out the truth?

I groan, pulling the threadbare blanket over my head. Making a fist hurts my arm, and all this thinking makes my head hurt.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Shut the fuck up," I respond as Bradford closes the door to his office.

"Good morning to you, too," he says dryly.

"Don't talk to me. My head is going to explode." I hate to complain, but dramatics occasionally lessen his concern. I tend to hide things when they're really bad, so when I complain, it usually means it's harmless.

"I just came from a surprise meeting with Vice Principal Wang," he says, ignoring my whining. "What exactly did you say to Mr. Kurtz?"

The fucker tattled on me to the principal's office? Really? "I told him to shove his test up his ass and go fuck himself, since nobody sane would ever bang a vindictive piece of shit like him," I say, reluctantly pulling the blanket away from my face.

"Damn. No wonder he's pissed," Bradford says.

"He deserved it," I say defensively. "I bet your meeting contained no mention of what he did to me before I said that."

"Mr. Kurtz said you were mad because you did poorly on a test."

"Do you really think I would say shit like that just because of a test?" I ask, a little offended. "Have you ever known me to do anything like this? I know I'm not the fuzziest guy, but I don't pick fights for no reason."

"Of course I don't," Bradford says, visibly confused. "This is completely not like you. What's wrong?"

I explain the disaster that was my Spanish test. "I get that it was my fault for not being ready for the test, but that's no reason for him to talk to me like that. I know I shouldn't have said what I did, but I don't feel bad about it. He doesn't get to treat his students as his personal verbal punching bags without any consequences."

Bradford sighs. "I understand why you said what you did, but you had to know it was stupid. Mr. Kurtz wants Vice Principal Wang to suspend you from the team, you know? You know she won't, since you single-handedly fund the athletics program. But if you're having issues with a teacher that you can't resolve, then you should get someone from above the situation to help you instead of taking it upon yourself."