Blue Flower

Chapter 30

-Chester-

I stormed inside the men’s bathroom early that morning, only to find Robert leaning on the counter while reading my journal. When the door suddenly made a banging sound against the wall, he flinched and quickly kept it in his bag. He looked at me like nothing happened, and I balled my hand into a tight fist.

“What brings you here?” he asked. A single hint of terror wasn’t obvious in his eyes.

“You still have the nerve to ask me that, you freak!” I yelled.

This time, he really was terrified. When Reese told me that he was my stalker, I froze out of shock. There was a certain doubt inside me that he had hidden motives against me. Those sharp eyes… cold treatment… and those stabbing words were the signs of his booming hatred. I was caught in his trap.

“Watch your words, bitch.” he warned.

Without any second thoughts, I hurriedly walked up to where he was and punched his face. He fell on the floor, and I did the same thing twice.

“Is this what you really want, huh? You punk! If I knew that you were stalking us, I could have pinned you down and killed you.”

He got up and faced me with his head up high.

“So what if I’m stalking you? Is that enough for you to hurt me? Damn, you messed my face up!”

“Yeah, more than enough.” I muttered and punched him again.

He strived back with a blow on my face and words of hatred came out of his mouth.

“Do you know why I did that to you? Because you’re so despicable. Gays like you should go burn in hell!”

I grinned.

“Is that so? Then go burn yourself first! I don’t give a damn of what makes you feel bitter. Maybe you’ve been abused by a gay dude before, and it affected the way you think.”

He gritted his teeth. “Shut up.”

I felt like I caught him on the tracks. This must be a lucky day for me. I saw his tears trickle down his beaten cheeks.

“What? Am I right?”

“I said shut up!!” he yelled. His voice brought the place into a sudden halt. I stared at him for a while, and then he spoke up.

“I know you only want one thing.” he said and grabbed my journal from his bag. He threw it to me and went out straight ahead. I blankly stared at it and recalled Sam’s words earlier.

“He was once abused by a gay teacher before. I think he was fourteen then. He barely passed his Math exam, and as an exchange, the teacher had a one-night stand with him.” she said.

That’s why. I thought. Now I understand.

New Year’s Eve. I was sitting on the couch in Michaels’ house. He was busy preparing food for us to eat. I scanned the channels, trying to find something new to watch, when I suddenly heard a knock on the door.

“Open it, please. I’m busy.” Michael said from the kitchen.

I hurried to the door and swung it open. Andrew and his father Darwin were standing outside, both shocked of my presence.

“Why are you here? Where’s Michael?” Andrew asked.

“Can I explain later? He’s cooking right now. Come in.” I said.

They made their way inside and I led them to the couch. I chatted with them for a while, asking how their lives have been. They also did the same to me. Andrew already knew that Mom forced me out of the house. Michael walked in, and was nailed in his place upon seeing the visitors in front of him.

“Oh, you’re done? You might overcook the food.” I said.

“Yeah, I’m done. No need for you to get up.” he said to me.

He turned to Darwin. “What are you doing here?”

“How are you, son?”

If I know, those were the words Michael longed to hear. He looked at him, eyes welling up with tears. And in the next second, the two hugged each other tightly. A stunt of pure forgiveness was shown right in front of me. Somehow, this fired up my hope that Mom would still accept me after all that had happened. Andrew joined in, and they created the view of a perfect family.

While Darwin and Michael were busy eating, Andrew and I talked on the balcony of the condo unit, overlooking the city of Chicago. The air was cold, but we didn’t mind. It just made the whole thing perfect.

“I’m sorry.” I said. I was deeply sorry, and if I didn’t say this, I know it would be too late.

“For what?” he asked.

“For everything. I know I should be ashamed, but it turned out to be otherwise.”

He smiled his trademark smile, and it shaped my lips up into the same gesture that he was making.

“It’s alright. Let’s forget it. You know you’re my little bro.” he said. It spread out joy inside me, knowing that everything between us was now even. “So, any plans in the future?”

“I want to become a better person?” I said.

“I know you can. Just be yourself.” he encouraged, putting his hand on my shoulder.

“Thanks.” I uttered, and then the talking went on.

And let me say this for the last time. I love you, Andrew Richardson. I love you.

--end of 1st Leg

--2nd Leg: January 2012

Copyright © 2011

By Franz Correa

December 22, 2011

11:00 pm