Four weeks passed.  It was by this time the middle of September, and things seemed to be going rather well.  I felt like I was on the road to recovery.  I also felt like I was as close to happy as I’d been in a long time.  Brand and I were still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship, and my family seemed to be enjoying the fact that I wasn’t wallowing in my own self-pity anymore.

As far as the thesis went, I was a little bit behind.  I hadn’t yet finished with Chapter 4, and everyone was breathing down my neck. 

I purposely gave my students, whether in Writing or English, a reading day.  It was important that they have something that broke the monotony of me just talking all the time; it was also important that I have a quiet place to work on the thesis’ newest chapter.

During 6^th period, as I sat in the classroom while my 10^th graders read something about Greek mythology, I abruptly felt a weird discomfort.  I didn’t know what it was, but it took me from my concentrating on my thesis; it seemed as if I couldn’t write another word.

To try to shake the disquieting feeling, I stood from the desk and started walking around.  Some of the students asked questions about the difference between Demeter and Ceres.  Some of them asked why the story they were reading was important.  I told them that I would explain it all to them the next day, after they’d read it and had time to reflect on the story.

About halfway into the class, one of the office ladies walked into the classroom.  She was holding a little white piece of paper, folded.  My heart began to sink a little when I opened it up and it was a note from my Mom.

“Come to the office,” it said simply.

“Can you stay in here for a minute?” I asked the blond lady who was new and whose name I couldn’t remember right then.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

“They’re having a silent reading day,” I explained as I walked out of the classroom.  I looked over into Brand’s door as I walked out.  Our eyes met.  I could see in that split second that he was beginning to worry, seeing me exiting my classroom with a note in my hand.

I walked down the main hall, past the computer labs and the first hall that housed most of my department.  I walked through the large double doors, past the counselor’s office and went into the back door of the high school office.

Justin and Mom were sitting in Ms. Loretta’s office, without Ms. Loretta.  Justin’s eye was black and his lip was swollen.  Mom was holding ice over it to try to help the swelling go down.

My mind instantly started to wander as my heart momentarily caught in my throat.  Had Justin joined the club that so many gay people unfortunately join?  Was this because of who he was, because of something about him that he could neither help nor control?

Mom looked at me, her eyes glazed over just as they had been the day that I was attacked.  My heart began to sink deep into my chest.  My hope since that fateful Sunday had been that Justin wouldn’t ever have to experience all the emotion, the pain, the suffering I had undergone.

“You okay, kid?” I asked as I composed myself, walked over, and placed my hand on his shoulder.

“I guess,” he commented.

“What happened?” I asked as I sat beside him.

“It’s nothing,” he started.  He was lying.  I could hear it in his voice.

“If it were nothing, you wouldn’t be in Ms. Loretta’s office with a black eye and a swollen lip,” I expressed as Mom stood, handing me the cloth.

“Ummmm...  Can you take him home at the end of the period?” Mom asked.

“Yeah,” I said as I looked up at her.

“It’ll all be okay, Justin,” she said as she lifted her hand and kissed his.  As she walked out she pulled the door closed behind her.  Justin took the rag from me and held it over his lip.

“This shit hurts,” he said.  Part of me wanted to assume that it was just the physical pain, but I knew that it was a little deeper than that.  Justin had always tried to hide things that were putting him through the emotional wringer, but he’d never done too well with it all.

“I know, kid,” I said, easily putting myself into his shoes.

Justin sat there; his eyes swelling.  He wanted to cry, but he was desperately trying not to.

“It’s okay,” I said to him.

“It’s not okay,” he replied loudly.  I could tell from the way his arms were tensing that he was more angry than hurt.

“Tell me what happened,” I tried.

“No.  No.  It’s too… No.” Justin said firmly.

He looked away from me, toward the wall where Ms. Loretta had all her degrees  on display.

“Justin...  You’ve got to get it out.  Otherwise, it will fester.”

“Ryan…”

“Yeah?”

“What did you think when I told you that I was gay?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“That it was about time,” I joked, hoping that humor would relieve the situation.

“Funny,” he said, smiling a little bit.

“So, tell me.”

“Do you know Robbie McCombs?”

“Yeah.  He’s in my first period class.  What about him?”

“Well.  He’s always had a crush on me.  On Valentine’s Day this year he gave me a little gift.  I thought it was weird, but it was so sweet.”

“Yeah.”

“Well...  We were in PE today, playing basketball.  Well, he got this lay-up that was amazing, and I was clapping for him.  ’Cause, you know, when it’s a good shot, you cheer on your team members.”

“Right.”

“After the game was over, we went into the locker room to change.”

“Okay.”

“Well...  He was innocently checking me out.  You know.  No big deal.  No worries.”

“Go on.”
Justin giggled.  “Well...  There was this other boy in there, too.  Steven Chambers.”

“Okay...  Don’t know him.”

“Well.  He’s a senior, kinda dumb, real redneck.”

“All right.”

“He saw Robbie checking me out and thought that Robbie was checking him out.”

“Oh, no.”

“Yeah.  Well...  He started some shit, and, you know, I can’t pass up a chance to get in the middle of things, so I told Steven to just leave him alone, that he should feel honored that anyone was checking him out.”

“And…”

“He said something to me, then pushed Robbie, knocking him to the ground.  As I walked over to check on Robbie, that stupid fucker stood over him, pulled out his penis and taunted him.  I got over to him and pulled on his shoulder and turned him around.  Robbie moved out of the way and stood up.  He called me a fag and then hit me once.  My lip was bleeding, and I was just going to let it go, tell Coach about what had happened and let her handle it all.  That’s what she told us to do.”

“Okay.”

“Then he started talking shit again.  I walked back over and flexed.  That usually gets people to calm down.”

“And?”

“It didn’t work.  He flexed back and punched me again.  I fell to the ground.  My eye was hurting.  It was a good shot, really,” he confessed as he continued to look away.  “I got up.  He was still talking some real shit.  I brushed myself off, and then I lunged right at him.  I hit him once, and it knocked him to the ground.”

“And that was it?”

“Oh, no!  I picked the fucker up.  I pushed him against the lockers.  I held him there and started throwing punches.  Ryan, by the time I was finished, he was lying on the ground, begging for his life.”

“Holy shit,” I said as I sat back in the chair.

“Yeah,” he commented as he got more and more emotional.  “Ryan.  I love Carter.  I really do, but I am so very, very tired of people picking on Robbie.  He’s a nice guy!”  Justin started crying.  “And you!  You were drunk and unarmed, and somebody beat the shit out of you for no fucking reason.  Why are people so totally ignorant?”

“I don’t know,” I answered.

“Ryan.  It’s stupid.  We can’t help that we’re this way, regardless of what anyone says.”

“I know,” I said as I relived in my mind all those events that had taken place months before.  Never in my mind would I have imagined that Justin was as affected as he was by all of this.  I certainly never intended for him to be hurt, but here he was.  What happened to me was tearing him up in a way that so few people could understand.  And it was tearing me up that my little brother felt as badly as he did.

Justin turned and looked at me.  By that time, I was in full tears.  They were running down my face.

“I didn’t want to upset you.  That’s why I didn’t say anything at first,” Justin said.

“How’s Robbie?”

“Carter is hanging out with him to make sure that he’s okay.”

“How are you?”

“Ryan...  I want to kill him.  Steven, that is.”

“I know.”

“Is that how you feel about that Kyle dude?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.  “A few months ago, I wanted him to rot in hell.  I wanted him to experience the same pain that I’ve been through.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ryan...  Dad is gonna be so pissed at me.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I got suspended over this shit.”

“He’s not gonna be mad at you, kid.”

“He is.  I know it!”

“Justin, just explain why.  He won’t be pissed.”

“I can’t tell him,” Justin commented as he shook his head.  “I don’t even know how or why I just told you!”

“If he says anything, then just let me know.”

“God.  Why am I so stupid?” Justin said as he banged his head on the wall.

“You’re not stupid, little bro.”

“I should have just taken Robbie and walked away.”

“But then you would have felt guilty about not handling it.”

“Are you, the pacifist, saying that it’s okay that I beat the shit out of him?”

“No.  It’s not okay that you beat the shit out of him.  If you’d just beat the shit out of him for no reason, then I’d be pissed.  The fact is, though, that you were defending Robbie’s honor.  You were defending yourself.  And—indirectly—you were defending me.”

“I’m glad you’re my brother.”

“The feeling is mutual,” I said as the bell rang.  “So I guess we better get out of Ms. Loretta’s office.”

“Can we wait till the tardy bell?”

“Why?”

“I don’t want everyone to see me like this.”

“That’s understandable.  I remember the feeling,” I said, smiling at my brother.  “But if you walk out during break and just let all those kids see that you are stronger and better than all this, you’ll be happier for it in the end.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“You suppose?”

Justin smiled.  “Do you need to get anything from your room?”

“Yeah.  I need to get my bag.”

“Let’s go, then,” he said.

I went into the front office and signed out, indicating on the time sheet that I was leaving campus.  I went back to the back and walked out with Justin.  Everyone was looking at my little brother.  And everyone was looking at me as I walked beside him.  Just as he’d walked beside me through all of my shit, I refused to stand anywhere other than right by his side.  The school’s counselor, a friend named Michele Atkinson, came into the hall as we walked past her office.  We turned down the second hall, toward my classroom.  I smiled at Brand, who was standing there, as we walked inside.  He followed us in and shut the door.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, concerned at seeing Justin’s black eye and his swollen lip.

“Everything will be fine,” I answered as he walked over to me.

“Mr. Fletcher...  I’ve been suspended,” Justin admitted.  “I know we have a test in the morning, but I won’t be here.”

“Okay.  What did you get suspended for?” he asked.

“Fighting,” Justin answered as I packed everything away.

“Justin?  Are you crazy?” Brand asked.

“Baby,” I said, looking at Brand.

“Yes, but I’m not as crazy as my brother.  This one time, I convinced him that glue tasted good,” Justin joked.  My boyfriend looked at me with a puzzled look on his face.

“It does!” Brand joined in.

Mom knocked on the door a second later and entered without waiting for my response.

“Take him straight home,” Mom said.  “Your Dad should be home in a little while.”

“Okay.  We’ll be there,” I responded as Mom searched my face, looking for answers.

“And Brand...  Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?” she suggested.

“Thank you, Olga,” Brand said as he looked at her and smiled.

“There are two reasons why I’m inviting you over.  First… I know how you and your boyfriend get when you’re apart from one another for too long.  Second… You will help keep my husband from going too far over the edge,” she explained as she walked over and hugged Justin and then me.  Before walking out of the room, she also embraced Brand, a way of showing that she’d accepted him as my boyfriend.  For her, it was a big step, as it took her over a year to hug Laura for the first time.  She’d yet to hug Carter.

“I will be there.  Honestly, though...  I’ll be there more for reason one than reason two.”

“Good answer,” Mom said as she walked out of the room, the skirt that she’d worn that day flowing in the wind.  “Ryan.  Este fin de semana, vamos a ir de compras.  Necesitas cosas para las paredes!” she said, noting the barren walls of my classrooms.

“Okay,” I said as I winked at her. 

A few moments later, the tardy bell rang and Brand excused himself from my classroom, returning to his.

“You all right?” I asked as Justin stood there, waiting.

“Yeah.”

“Grab a copy of The Crucible,” I instructed, pointing to the shelf in my classroom.  “There’s a test on it Monday.”

“You know you’re not supposed to be telling me this.”

“I’m gonna tell the students tomorrow,” I said.  “Besides, I want you to pass that shit.  You’ve got an ‘A’ in my class right now.  Don’t lose it!” I instructed.

“Yes, Mr. Collins,” he joked in a smartass tone.

After leaving my room and the school itself, we arrived at the house.  Dad’s car was sitting in the driveway.  I pulled the BMW into the spot where I normally parked it.  Justin parked his Jeep to the right of where I always parked.

“He’s gonna be pissed,” Justin said as we walked up to the door together.  “Don’t say anything about what I told you, though.”

“Why not?”

“Just ’cause…” Justin stated as we walked up the two steps to the front porch and I started to open the door.

“Justin...  It will be okay.”

“If you say so,” he said as he entered.

“JUSTIN ERNESTO!  Get up to this office right now!” Dad yelled from his office on the second story of the house.

“You want me to go up with you?”

“No,” Justin answered my question.  “Just let me take it; then, it will be over with.”

“Yell if you need me,” I said as I watched my brother anxiously climb the stairs.

“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?” my father’s voice rang throughout the house.  “You could have done some really serious damage to this kid, if not killed him!”  Dad was angry.  In his mind, all the anger and yelling was justified.  “His father just called me and is expecting for ME to pay for all his son’s medical bills.  Do you know what that could cost me?  Do you know what that could cost YOU?”

Dad yelled at Justin for well over an hour.  His voice resonated throughout the house.  I never heard Justin once.  He never explained his actions.  He never explained what was going on in his mind.  He never defended himself during the whole argument.

I sat in the living room with the TV off the entire time.  Dad’s words cut through my very being as I envisioned Justin there, in the locker room, beating the shit out of this guy not only for me or for Robbie, but as a symbol to every gay person in the world.  What Justin did took guts; it took all the honor that he could muster.  Despite what my father was saying, despite what he didn’t know, I was proud of Justin for standing up for what he believed in, for showing the kind of man that he was becoming, for being my brother.

In a moment, in a flash, the yelling stopped.  The door to the office opened, and Justin came out crying.  The door slammed so loud that it could have woken the dead.  Justin walked through the living room toward his bedroom on the main level of the house.

“And another thing...” Dad cried as he came out of the office and yelled across the house, “... You might as well give up your fucking gymnastics practices, ’cause you’re working in the shop until every last cent of his medical bills are fucking paid off.  Do you understand?”

Justin continued walking.  Why hadn’t he said anything?  Why didn’t he justify his actions to Dad the way he’d justified them to me?  He walked into his room and slammed the door; Dad walked back into the office and slammed his door as well.

Gone were the days when Justin would wake in the night, struggle to get up the stairs and climb into bed with our parents, just as I had done, just as Parker had done, just as the girls were doing when they spent the night with my parents. Justin was independent; he was unafraid.

I sat there in the silence and let Justin’s words reverberate through my essence, through my being.  I continued to imagine Robbie lying in the floor of the locker room, helpless to fight back.  I saw my brother rushing to his defense, like a knight in shining armor or a príncipe azul rushing to rescue the damsel in distress.  I compared the whole scenario to my own situation, lying there helpless, waiting on someone to come and rescue me from the depths of destruction.  I compared my friend Matt to my brother, rushing to help me come back from the brink.

Damn my promise to my brother not to say anything; damn him for asking me to keep it to myself.  He’d done the honorable thing, in my opinion, and he deserved the praise of the world... not the criticism of our father.

To be continued...