The Real Bully

The Dinner Party

Xander arrived at Brandon's house on Sunday afternoon. The sun set overhead, painting orange and red across the sky over Brandon's vast lawn. Numerous parked cars circled his lawn, happy couples with their young children shutting car doors and skipping to Brandon's door. Only Xander walked alone. He pushed open the unlocked door amid the crowd of families and stepped into Brandon's one-story house. It was a quaint house—not obnoxiously big like Xander expected but a good size—among a large piece of land. Music played throughout the house, welcoming people inside. Children chased each other and ran outside to kick a soccer ball. Women drank wine, leaned against the counter, and snacked on fruit kabobs. Behind the house sat a large swimming pool with a diving board. Xander spotted Brandon at a barbeque by the pool grilling hamburgers and chatting with friends. When Brandon saw Xander, he waved and beckoned him over.

"Xander! Good to see you man!" Brandon greeted him, slapping him on the back. "You remember Jake, don't you? From high school?" Brandon gestured to a man standing with his arm around his wife.

Of course he remembered Jake. He remembered when Jake helped dunk his head in the toilet, when he kicked him, punched him, ripped his homework. He remembered how terrible Jake made him feel, weak, powerless, how Jake stole his dignity, stole every bit of self-worth he had. "Oh yeah, haven't seen you in a while!" Xander exclaimed, faking excitement.

Jake beamed in response, no hard feelings, as if Xander was an old pal not someone he bullied miserably for years.

"Are Daniel and Sam here too?" Xander asked, praying they weren't. It was bad enough Jake was here.

Brandon's and Jake's smiles faded. Jake cast his eyes down, indicating for Brandon to explain. "Daniel died in military service. It was a really rough time for everyone. He was a great guy and even though it happened years ago—not long after graduation actually—I still miss him. Sam, I don't even know. His fiancé, Anne, well..." Brandon trailed off, not wanting to discuss the subject.

"Anne went missing," Jake piped in. "A few days ago. The police have been searching for her, but they haven't come up with anything. She could be kidnapped, dead, we have no idea."

Xander glanced at his veins, at Anne's blood pumping through them. They would never find her. Sam's fiancé, wow. What a nice surprise. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, recalling Anne's face right before he killed her. Wide eyes, mouth in a horrified 'O', dainty fingers—all now in separate jars.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Brandon blurted, needing to compose himself. He did not like thinking about the misfortune that had befallen his friends. "Jake, can you take over the grill?" Brandon kept his head down and shuffled into the house.

"So..." Jake mused, searching for a topic of small talk. His wife left the conversation and relaxed on a chair beside the pool with one of her friends. "Where do you work?"

"I'm a quality manager for a company that sells tubing to medical companies," Xander stated. "Give me one second," he excused himself uncomfortably into the house. He needed to mull over his current situation—walking into Brandon's dinner party, Jake acting genuinely nice to him, Daniel dead, Sam's wife dead—at Xander's hands...He quietly wandered into Brandon's office. Pictures lined the walls—his wedding photo with his giggling brunette wife bouncing in his lap, his two young children—one little girl with pig tails and one boy missing his two front teeth, his son in his Little League football jersey beside his daughter in her tiny cheerleader outfit, a candid photo of his wife eating pizza and smiling innocently, his wife with Anne, another with Daniel, Jake, Sam, and Brandon with their arms draped around each other at graduation, Brandon drinking with his college friends, Brandon grinning with his college diploma. The pictures kept going. Xander skimmed over the rest of them and let his eyes fall on Brandon's awards: his diplomas from high school and med school, a letter of recognition for both him and his wife from Doctors without Borders, and trophies from high school and college football championships. Was this the same person that bullied him--a man who travelled across the world to help the underprivileged for free, who stayed connected with his high school friends, who threw massive dinner parties and went out of his way to make everyone feel welcome? Who was Brandon—one who stole power or one who gave power?

"What do you think?" Brandon asked, startling Xander from behind. "You know I met her there," Brandon commented, noticing Xander's eyes on the Doctors without Borders letter addressed to both him and his wife. "I met my wife in Ethiopia. A girl was bleeding to death and we both sat down and stopped the bleeding together and when the girl was okay we both looked up...and just knew. I can't explain it any better than that." Brandon grinned at the memory, stroking the picture of his wife eating the pizza. "And my kids," he continued, moving forward to the picture of them sitting together, his daughter in pig tails and his son missing his two front teeth. "You don't know how rewarding it is to be a father until you have kids. I look at them every day and think to myself, God, I am the luckiest man in the world."

A boy, who Xander recognized from the picture as Xander's son, darted into Brandon's office. "Daddy, can you pweas toss a football wif me?" he asked sweetly in his high-pitched voice. Brandon picked him up over his shoulder and ruffled his hair. "Daniel, I'm busy now," he apologized. He had named his son after Daniel who had died in war. "I need to finish the hamburgers. But maybe Xander can play with you!" Brandon winked at Xander.

All those times Xander wished to be Brandon's friend, wished to talk about life with him, wished to eat with him, hang out with his friends, toss a football with him, and here Brandon finally was, giving him that chance with his son. Xander playfully grabbed the football from Daniel's little palms, feeling like the past was repeating itself in a way.

Except this time, he reminded himself, Brandon was the victim.

As he tossed Daniel the football, Xander imagined his body pulsating with Brandon's blood. He smiled at the delicious thought.