What's Up, Danger?

One Love

Griffin Harris

Study hall was boring as hell, as per usual. I'm glad I have Damien here with me. We were chilling and talking about random stuff. Family, the upcoming games, plans after graduation, and so on...

"Yo, you ready to take on the Mustangs next week," Damien asked me. 

The McArthur Mustangs have been our rivals for years. Yeah, we can be cool outside the court, but it's all or nothing when it's game time. We're tied with them with two wins and two losses, and it was almost time for the district finals. If we win against them, we could go into the quarter-finals for the first time in five years... 

I grinned at Damien reassuringly.

"I know we'll be able to beat them this time. This is what we've been practicing non-stop. We can't let this opportunity let us slip by us," I said. Damien agreed.

"Yeah... let's hope there's no distractions or mishaps that will happen today..." Damien mumbled, ducking his head. I frowned.

"Are you still shaken from what happened last night, or is it, Joshua," I asked, rubbing his back to comfort him. He groaned.

"Both... you know how everyone talks. He might've heard what happened to me by now... Who knows what would come out that nigga's mouth..." I narrowed my eyes.

"He ain't gonna say not a damn thing. Not unless he wants his teeth on the floor..." Damien chuckled at my threat.

"I'm serious, Damien..."

"I know you are, but I don't want you to get in trouble and not play with me when we face the Mustangs. But I greatly appreciate you looking out for me, bro. I really mean it..." he said, his voice fading into a whisper. I looked at him sadly, seeing a dark look pass over his face.

Damien grew up with his mom, dad, and 3 older sisters. He never had any brothers and was the youngest, so he would play with his sisters. His dad was the main male figure in his life, so he looked up to him and wanted him to make him proud. He took up sports but constantly got hurt because of his size. His mom coddled him a bit, which his dad disapproved of because it made him "soft." When the 8th-grade year came around, and he came out as gay, almost everyone in his family supported him. 

Everyone except his father. 

Damien's dad didn't say much to him regarding the matter. It wasn't until a week later that his dad disappeared, leaving nothing but a single note. It said he couldn't bear to be the father of a "faggot" and wanted nothing to do with him and the rest of his family. That tore Damien to pieces. His dad left his mother without a husband and his sisters without a father figure. All because of his sexual orientation. He took the hit pretty hard, secretly crying whenever no one was around and cutting himself a few times on his arms and chest. He claimed they were really bad scratch marks, but I soon discovered the truth behind his scars. I caught him in the boys' restroom one day after lunch with a small razor blade stained red with his blood. I was shocked, but with silent confidence, I approached my best friend. I removed the blade from his trembling fingers before pulling him into a hug. He cried hard against my chest, snot running down his nose and his words broken up by constant hiccups. He asked over and over, 'Was I not good enough?', 'Why did he have to leave us?' and 'Why am I this way?' I gently hushed him softly on occasion when his crying got worse and rocked him slowly.

"M-m-m-maybe if I-I-I-I w-w-was g-g-gone, he'll he'll come b-back," he sobbed into my chest. The muscles in my body tensed, and I hugged him tighter. I pull him away from my chest to look at his face. He was shaking violently in my arms. His brown eyes were red and puffy. His breaths were erratic and uneven, panting as if he had run a marathon. Tears continued to flow down like small waterfalls on his cheeks. He was sniffling, trying to wipe the snot from his nose with the sleeve of his black long sleeve shirt. I looked at him directly in his eyes.