Control Freak ✔️

05 all the king's men

Caleb trudged up the long steps into a brief stretch of darkness, suddenly punctuated by a harsh fluorescent white against the ceramic walls of the man-made cavity. The train station was abuzz with the chaos of the early rush hour crowd.

He crossed through the turnstile and scanned the deck. There were always a few jocks, classroom comedians, and miscellaneous bullies loitering around the station after school, and all of them had enjoyed a great bit of fun at Caleb's expense over the years. Though they lived in his mother's neighborhood, usually he could count on there being some sort of practice or after school hangout going on where they'd stay on campus longer than he had to. But, it being the last day for seniors, of course they had nowhere at the time to be, and nothing to do and no one to take their boredom out on but Caleb if they caught him.

Caleb put his head down as he paced ahead. His neck began to sweat as he imagined their presence encroaching on him without warning, and then pouncing on him. He clutched tighter to the strap of his backpack and curled inwards to make himself smaller. They hadn't noticed him. He was invisible again. Just part of the scenery, like a rock stuck in the mud around which the river tide diverged and people passed right around him like trout. He was the rigid, dried clay of a crumbling spirit, eroding from the inside-out, returning to the riverbed, and never to be seen again.

On that day, the sky was gray. Little spots of dark brown began to show up on the concrete. He extended his arm to feel the little cold splashes of rain water on his skin.

The trains were loud. They drowned out voices, and flushed out details. He found a bench farther down the platform and parked himself there, with his backpack beside him and his yearbook in hand. He spent a long time grazing the coarse hardcover with his fingertips, staring at it intently as if to pontificate something so incredibly obvious, that a percentage of his brain power was actually being spent calculating why he couldn't remember what it was. Suddenly, a flash. He ripped through the pages, kicking himself for not looking to see what Ivy wrote sooner. There it was: inside-back cover, in electric green gel. His eyes widened. The name was one he recognized from something outside of school; one he had known for a long time. He watched it fly away from him in a green blur.

"How come you didn't ask me to sign that?" said Max. "I thought we were buddies." The sound of the rain pounding against the glass covering had drowned out the sound of his footsteps approaching.

Caleb clung to the book, afraid to let go, and yet, when Max touched it, he could not help but relent to him. Max took the yearbook out of his grasp and began slowly thumbing through the pages.

"I know you asked my girl to sign it," he murmured. There was a subtle burning in his eyes, like orbs of black fire and smoke, roaring to the front of his skull. "Damn, was she the only one you asked?"

"Give it back, okay?" whined Caleb.

"Why? I wanna sign it." He started unzipping Caleb's bag.

"You got a pen in this?" He was shaking it and digging his fist around in it.

"No, I don't," growled Caleb. The incoming train wailed as it thundered down the tracks.

Max stopped digging.

He leaned in and whispered to Caleb, "I know you're in love with her, Morris. I've known all along. That's why I kept you around. I know it was probably tearing you up inside thinking this was your last little chance at hoping she'd notice you. I saw it. You love her. You probably beat your dick to her every night, I bet. And it kills you, because you know a kid like you could never get a girl like that. And, if you want my advice, it's better for you that way. But if you want, I'll do you a favor. Tonight, when I'm fucking her, I'll take a video and send it to you. I'll even make her say your name once."

Caleb was shaking to the point that his knees buckled.

"Well? How 'bout it?"

He had been tricked again, Caleb thought. He had been made to forget, for one delirious afternoon, what it felt like to not be the object of their torment. He had touched the light, out from the shadowy oblivion of his insignificant, middling existence. For one fleeting glimpse, he had been able to marvel at the sunshine of a fantastic tomorrow. Ivy had provided him that light, and he wished she hadn't. She had a smile that could make the lowest human being feel higher than they ever had, more important than they ever could be. He knew he had no chance with Ivy. He should've never tried to be near her. The reality was that the two could never be.

He felt his face crumbling, though it was too numb for him to tell if the tears had started running. Max glared into Caleb's eyes, bemused by their sudden fire. The sight of it gnarled his red face in a knot. Caleb stood up, and before he could realize what he was doing, he moved his tense, trembling fist behind his head.

Max pounced on him. He wrenched Caleb's hair in his talons. The boy winced at the smarting pain that had set his scalp on fire.

"Oh, Caleb! That wasn't smart!" he cackled as he hit Caleb so hard in the face it sent him spiraling to the platform. Out of his cut lip, he began to spill out an incomprehensible string of syllables through his chattering teeth. He raised his hand in defense. Max grabbed him again. He pulled him up and slashed him with an elbow.

"I gave you a fucking chance, didn't I!" he hissed through his teeth.

"S-s-stohup!" Caleb stammered. He hit him again.

"Hey! Hey!" The guards called as they finally caught on, blowing their whistles as they came jogging.

"Ay, yo, c'mon, Max, chill out," his buddies said as they wrenched him away by the armpits, but not before he got in a few more kicks to Caleb's ribs.

"You fucking freak!"

"C'mon, man. C'mon."

"Hey, kid, you okay?" one of the guards asked as he knelt down beside Caleb. But he wouldn't respond to them. His knuckles were tensed in a ball, and shaking. He rubbed his face with the side of his hand, which was blackened by ash and dust mixed with sticky blood, and lined with streaks of his tears as he lay there on the platform. He let his train pass as he sat there crying. But he didn't bother moving for a long time.