Billy Carter

Chapter 22: Take Me To Church

"So... do you think I'll still be able to visit you at the Death Star?" Ollie asked quietly as we walked to our Religion class.
"I don't know. Mum says he lives in America. But she'd told me months ago that he was prepared to move over here, so... Hopefully he still is," I said, kicking an old plastic water bottle across the lawn we walked on. Ollie, being a good person, bent over and picked up the bottle to put it in a bin we passed.
"You still don't know who he is?"
"Nuh. Not interested."
"You know... maybe you should find out. I mean, you could end up living with him after all. And you'll probably see him in court, if that's where this goes, which by the sounds of it-"
"Shut up Ollie, can't I live in denial a little longer?" I asked miserably. We walked on in silence a little longer, before I felt guilty enough to apologise for snapping at him. "Sorry for telling you to shut up," I mumbled quietly.
"It's ok; you're stressed. Just don't eat a bunch of pills again."
"Shut up."
We went into our religion classroom and sat down at our usual table. We were earlier than all our other friends somehow, but it didn't matter. I put my glasses on, ready for class while we waited. Ollie sighed wistfully and slouched forward, resting his chin in his hand as he looked at me. He had a dopey smile on his face.
"What?" I asked.
"It sucks that you're closeted. I mean you know how those glasses turn me on, and I can't even hug you while we're at school. It's torture," he explained - quietly.
"I'm sorry that I'm blind and it inconveniences you," I said, rolling my eyes playfully. Actually, I liked that he liked them so much - it made me feel less self-conscious about wearing them. Ollie sighed again, and the rest of our friends and some other classmates turned up.
"So are you gonna tell us what you two've been whispering about all morning?" Tony asked us as he sat down.
"Wait, I'm not sure we want to know," Trent said, sitting next to him. He looked at me funny, then said: "Is it sex stuff?"
"Yeah," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "That's all we ever talk about together."
"Do you want to fill them in?" Ollie asked. I sighed, and everyone frowned curiously as the seats at our table continued to be filled. I waited for everyone to be seated before I slouched back in my chair and mumbled out the news:
"My biological father is trying to get sole custody," I told them, sliding down my chair until I fell under the table. "Of me," I added from below, just in case it wasn't already obvious.
"Holy shit, really?" Trent exclaimed.
"On what grounds?!" asked Jenny.
"Yeah, what's his argument?" added Cynthia. I sighed and climbed back onto my chair.
"Well, you know my, uh... little crisis the other week?" I asked, referencing the humiliating suicide fail I was trying to forget about while I combed my fingers through my hair nervously. "Well, he thinks it would be better for me to live with him, he thinks he can fix me or whatever. That or he's just using it as an excuse to force me to see him, since I've said no so many times and Mum won't let him come near me unless I want him to..." I trailed off awkwardly. "So, yeah. Seems like it's going to go to court, because Mum wants to keep sole custody - which had originally been agreed upon by both of my parents."
"Oh... That's rough," Trent said, giving me an awkward, sympathetic look.
"What happens if he wins?" Cynthia asked hesitantly.
"Well I'll have to go live with him, obviously," I snapped. I wasn't angry at her, I was just frustrated with the situation, but I couldn't stop some of it from leaking into my tone.
"I meant are you going to move?"
"I don't know. He lives in America, so for all I know I could be made to move over there. He's offered to move back here in the past though, so if he does win, hopefully he'll have the common decency not to make me move halfway around the world from my mother and friends and my whole fucking life," I muttered bitterly. "Of course my wants were never a priority to him before, so I don't see why they would be now."
"I'm sure he won't make you move to America," Ollie said, trying to comfort me. I could still hear the uncertainty in his voice, though. "I'm not sure exactly how this all works in regards to our legal system, but it doesn't make sense to me that the judge would do that to you, or your parents - since neither of them have done anything wrong. I mean it's not like you're in an abusive, destitute home or anything; the only reason your mum's custody is being re-evaluated is because your father's decided to step up and claim you."
I snorted at the mention of my father. "If he thinks turning my whole world upside down is going to make me want to meet him or whatever, he's going to be sorely disappointed."
"Ollie's right Bill, I'm sure it'll all be fine," Tony told me.
"Yeah, they don't have any reason to take you out of your mum's custody - not completely, at least," Cynthia said. "I wouldn't be worried about it at all; worst case scenario they give your parents joint custody," she shrugged.
"I don't want joint custody," I mumbled bitterly, sliding down my chair again.
"William Carter, sit up properly in your chair!" Mrs. Fredericks' shrill voice nearly made me jump, and suddenly she was standing behind me, looking down at me with her beady eagle eyes.
"But ma'am, I'm having a crisis over here," I told her sullenly.
"Is that so?" she snapped crisply.
"Uh-huh."
"And what is your crisis?"
"My dad wants sole custody," I told her.
"And this would be your step-father or your biological father?"
"Biological."
"Hm. I'm sorry about that dear. Do you want to see the school counselor?" she asked, being a lot nicer than I had originally anticipated.
"What? No, unless they secretly moonlight as a family law attorney too."
"Well, I'm afraid I can't help you there. Did you finish that homework?"
"Yes ma'am," I opened my Bible and handed her the folded pieces of paper I'd had wedged between the pages of the Old Testament. She unfolded them and gave a quick once-over of my work.
"And how are your parents?"
"Ok, I guess. I mean, they're both angry and terrified that I might be sent to live with my father, but aside from that they're doing ok."
"I'm sure it will all work out, dear." She put a comforting hand on my shoulder and turned to my friends. "Do the rest of you have your homework?"
"Yes ma'am," came the collective response, and they all gave her their homework and she went to the next table to get theirs.
"Did anyone else think it was weird how nice she was to me just now?" I asked quietly, straightening up in my chair.
"Well, considering the entire faculty know about your suicide attempt; no," Ollie told me. He hadn't been very sensitive about it lately, which I honestly appreciated.
"Oh, I didn't even consider that," I told him. "Christ, my life is so fucked. I honestly thought I'd put my days in court behind me, y'know?"
Ollie gave my hand a squeeze under the table. "At least now you're on the right side of the law," he reminded me.
"Yeah, I guess. I'm still pissed about it though," I sighed. "It's not fair, I don't even get a say and the whole fucking thing revolves around me, it's all about me! Still, no one wants to hear my opinions-"
"Maybe it's because you're a faggot and nobody gives a shit about you?" Kenny fucking Leary interrupted, stopping at our table on his way to Mrs. Fredericks' desk. I had a heart-attack, but I didn't want to make it too obvious how much he'd just shaken me, because he didn't necessarily know just how close to the truth he was - he could've just been insulting me. Still, Ollie and I let go of each other's hands like we'd just been bitten.
"Fuck off Leary," Tony snapped.
"Anyroad, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," I began, ignoring Kenny.
"I'm not surprised," Kenny's mate Sean sighed dramatically before continuing, ignoring me. "Your granddad's probably to blame. Conversion therapy, or something," Sean snorted and his cockhead mate Andy laughed. Kenny wore a sneer, but oddly I don't think it was meant for me. Anyroad, I'd been trying to ignore Kenny lately, so he'd started making worse and worse jabs to try and get a reaction out of me. This one from Sean broke the camel's back, so to speak.
"Excuse me?" I asked, getting to my feet and turning to face him.
"I said you're a faggot and it's because your granddaddy molested you like he molested his own kids," Sean told me, grinning victoriously - and speaking loud enough for the whole class to hear.
"And how did you come to that conclusion?" I asked condescendingly, shooting a death glare at Kenny.
"Kenny's father's an attorney, faggot," he declared. "And your fucked-up family's been in and out of the courtroom for so long they're practically regulars."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah, it is," he stepped closer so we were toe-to-toe, and I hated that I was only 5'7" to his 5'8". "Drugs, alcohol, physical abuse, sexual abuse, pedophilia; you're family's got a history of it," he pretended to sigh sadly, like he was disappointed. "No wonder you're so messed up."
I couldn't think of a good retort, and my only back-up plan was to punch him. So I did. Then Kenny jumped between us and it was on for young and old. Kenny and I ended up brawling, and then a very pissed off Principal Connors sent us both home for the rest of the day.
Dad came and picked me up, and he didn't look impressed. Although he may have just been hungover.
"Get in," he growled at me, after a debriefing with Principal Connors. I climbed into the car while he climbed in the driver's seat.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he snapped at me.
"I'm sorry, he just got to me is all," I mumbled shamefully.
"Well don't let him get to you!" Dad growled. "Jesus Christ William! How many more times are your mother and I going to get a bollocking over your behaviour? I heard that kid was saying shit about my family - fair enough, they're all shitheads - but your actions only prove him right! You've got to smarten the fuck up kid! Ignore him and focus on your grades instead, it'll give him one less thing to pick on you for. Stop hanging out with that bender and there's even less ammunition for that fuckstick."
"Don't call him that!" I exclaimed frustratedly.
"What? Fuckstick?"
"No- stop calling Ollie a bender! Stop calling him names all the time! He's my bestfriend!"
"Jesus Christ Billy, stop it!" he yelled suddenly. "Are you queer?"
"I- what?" His question caught me off-guard.
"Are. You. Queer?" he repeated, exaggerating every word.
"What's that got to do with it? What if I am?" I asked defensively.
"If you're queer I'm going to smash your fucking face in," he said, fairly bluntly. "I won't tolerate or support that lifestyle, I won't have it in my house."
"It's not a lifestyle, Dad!" I argued. "It's not a decision, or a choice, or a goddamn switch you can flip one way or the other! It's who he is, it's his fucking DNA, just like the reason his hair is brown! He's not your father, ok? Your father is messed up and sick, but it has no connection to his sexuality! Ollie would never do the things your father did, and neither would I, just like neither would y-you," my voice faltered at the end with sudden uncertainty, and he heard it.
"You think I'd do that to you?" he asked, sounding way too calm for it to be a good thing.
"Well, you just said you'd happily belt my head in - why not?" I challenged, ignoring the red flags like he ignored the stop signs.
He didn't say anything, and when I glanced at him he was staring straight ahead at the road, face completely blank and the only sign that he was upset was the whitening of his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel. I hoped our fight was over, but the growing unease and sense of dread brewing in my stomach told me something else. Something was wrong.
"I didn't mean that, I was just angry. I'm sorry," I said quietly, hoping to calm him down.
"Shut up," he snapped.
Finally dad parked the car in the driveway at home.
"Get inside, now."
I did as I was told with increasing fear. I un-clipped my seat-belt and slid out of the car with my school bag. Dad gestured for me to walk in ahead of him, and the hairs on the back of my neck stuck up as I turned my back to him.
Is this what a rabbit feels when they're cornered by a fox? I thought.
"Lounge-room." I nearly jumped through the roof when he spoke.
"Where's mum?" I asked with a dry throat. Something felt really off.
"Work - get in the lounge-room."
I dropped my bag on the couch and turned to face him again, though I couldn't actually look anywhere near him.
"Can I go-"
"No."
I flinched.
"Take your clothes off."
"... What?"
"You heard me."
"No."
"Take them off."
"No." I finally got the courage to look up at him and he used the opportunity to hit me. My jaw ached and tears stung my eyes.
"Take them off."
I hesitated and he hit me again. This time he caught my cheekbone, and I swear to God he broke it.
"Take them off."
I stripped down to my boxers, feeling numb to it all now. This is it, I thought. He's going to kill me. He's going to rape me and then he's going to kill me.
"Are you gay?" he asked, as I stood in nothing but my underwear feeling ashamed and embarrassed and utterly powerless.
"No." It was the truth.
"Are you gay?"
"No. I swear to God I'm not."
"Because for someone who spends all his time with a gay kid, and never brings a girl up to his room, your bin has an awful lot of used condoms in it." I hung my head in shame and tried not to cry. He'd figured it out, and I was dead.
"I'm not gay," I told him, my voice breaking.
"You're not, are you? He's raping you then?" He didn't believe me.
"No."
"Then you're just a mental case."
"I'm not-"
"Then tell me what's going on."
"I'm not gay, I-" I paused and took a deep breath. "I'm not gay, I'm b-bisexual," I finally told him. "I like girls and boys," I explained. "I'm not a mental case. Ollie's my boyfriend, we've been dating since last September. I... I love him."
He didn't say anything, and I was too terrified to look up and read his expression.
"Kneel. Get on you knees."
I didn't want to. I was too scared of what he might make me do after that. Then he hit me again and I fell to them on the floor anyroad. This time a blood vessel in my nose burst, and I tasted blood on my lips.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to fucking astral-project or whatever - I just didn't want to be around for whatever was going to come next. I could hear him unbuckling his belt and I tried not to cry. It was bittersweet when instead of doing what I had feared he started to hit me across the back with his leather belt. It was painful, but I was honestly relieved. He hit me until I was seeing stars and was in so much pain I thought I might vomit from it, then he tossed the belt aside and started getting in with his fists, and his boots.
After an eternity of that he dragged me up by my hair so I was sitting with my back against the couch. My whole body felt heavy and my head felt light. I'm sure I was black and blue all over.
He fumbled with his trousers with one hand, the other with a tight grip on my hair to keep my head pointed at him. I looked down at his fumbling hands and then up at his face.
"So you are like your father," I said quietly to him. I knew I couldn't stop him, I was too weak and tired and sore, but my words made him pause, and I hoped he was reconsidering his next choice. He glared back at me.
"I know," he growled.