SVETLANA

Not having Robert to chill with—to smash burgers and pizza with, and zone out to video game play with—really sucked. I knew he was mad at me, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I wanted to move on, but I couldn’t speak. I had no voice for what the problem was. I could have cleared it up with one sentence, but I kept hitting a brick wall when I thought about what to say.

Every couple days, I got stuck in a time warp about our friendship. So, on a really cold Sunday night in April, I was wide awake until 4am, thinking and thinking and thinking. When I finally got tired, I planned to sleep all day.

But I woke up at 8am, anyways, an hour and a half later than usual for a school day. I slept through a phone call, an alarm, text notifications, an Amazon delivery, and even the smell of coffee! I was wide awake, but I would be a bitch all day, if I went to school.

The call and the text were from Svetlana. She must need a favor, I thought, but I needed to get out the door, first. I decided to go in to school, instead of trying all day to avoid black holes in the universe of my mind. I got up, washed the body but not the chassis, threw on last-night’s T-shirt and today’s jeans.

I walked out the side door. Svetlana’s text messages:

Where are you, I need to ask you something??

I just realized something about you. I need to know something.

“Like OMG, I get it, you have a question!!” I said it out loud, already pissed off at 8:20am. Gonna be a long day, I thought.

Rolled into Science third period, sat in my seat and Ding! Lana, again.

I texted her:

Yeah, I just got here. Is it important?

Yes, Blue. I know what’s wrong with you. Do you?

Whatever. I’m in lab!

But I wasn’t; I was in my seat, learning about the scientific method, for the third time since 6th grade. Lana always reminded me of that soap opera, the “Young and the Restless.” But, Lana was high strung and relentless. Haha!

I was desperate for her last year, I admit it. And for Maria, the year before. So, paybacks, I guess. For pressuring her, calling her late at night, thinking that she dressed up for me on our dates. Her dad had told me that his daughter does not date boys like me. I didn’t know what he meant, at the time.

Totally different from what I felt when she hit me with these texts. That goddamn pain in my stomach, like bugs crawling around. Or butterflies, I guess.

It wasn’t the usual Svetlana. I mean it was! But I could tell there was something more serious about it. And I didn’t want it to be about my secret.

The bell rang, and I nearly jumped at the sound. Lana definitely would be on the prowl. No way I was going to lunch. Out of bio, I turned left toward the band stairs and went down. When lunch was over, I would climb the stairs, again, and four doors down is US Studies. She wouldn’t be able to get to me.

I hid in the alcove under the basement stairs, where I was shoved into the tile as a freshman. Irregardless of a no-bully policy, seniors—who I hoped would hurry the fuck up and graduate or drop out and then go fuck themselves—picked on newbies like me who were clueless for the first two months of school.

Well, it was a good place to hide from most people. Troy grabbed me from behind, his barbaric hands clamping onto my shoulders.

“C’mon, Blue Man. Lunchtime.”

“Get the fuck outta here. Don’t fucking do that!” Yep, I was crabby and pissed off.

He smiled and turned his head to the side, deflecting my attitude. Thank God for Troy.

“The Caviar Snob wants to see you,” he said.

“Well, I’m not talking to her.”

“She’s on a rampage. We’ll get through it together,” he said with a fake hug, and cracked up. “Still want access to No-Access?” he said.

“Fuck up, butt-lick,” I said in a calmer way, knowing that Troy would take whatever bullshit I gave him, and still be this affectionate bear.

That’s why I let him pull me from my hiding place. Troy: “She’s gonna suck my dick one of these times I give her the chemistry answers. You thought you had a crush on her, Blue Man. Oh, and she thanked me for the iPod, yesterday, finally.”

“That’s rich.” She never thanks me.

“I know. Anyways, I’m starving,” he said.

“I’m not hungry.”

We walked into the caf. “There’s the gang,” he said, spreading his arms wide enough to include the whole mass of people in the room.

The smell of brown gravy and catsup reminded me of what I like to eat when my stomach is not in knots. Robert (Salisbury steak and French fries), looked up from our table at me and Troy, like he had no soul. Or maybe he saw that I have no soul and his mind could not comprehend it. Maria (salad, Jell-O and chocolate milk) walked toward the table, her long hair down, blowing behind her. Lana ($15 homemade lunch packed in a Thermos purse with purple flowers) was sitting back in her chair with her arms folded, so obviously planning to ruin someone.

I sat down at the corner of the short end of our rectangular table, the right angle of a triangle. Maria the short line on the end, next to me; Troy the long line to my left and Lana to the left of him; Robert across from Troy. I had my two remaining friends on either side, to protect me. I pushed my chair back from the table and bowed my head, placing my thumbs at the bridge of my nose to hold it up.

Maria was trying her best not to care that something was up. Robert, was gorging on his bloody fries. I thought, if he says anything to me….

Lana: “Blue why are you so quiet?”

“Fuck off,” I said without looking up. Troy made an exaggerated look from me to her.

Maria said, loudly, “Svetlana Hornakovitch.”

“Maria, darling,” said Lana, “why didn’t you date Blue last year?”

“You know why, dear. But when do you want to shop for dresses?”

“I don’t know,” said Lana. “I do know why, but I didn’t before. Blue why didn’t you ever date a girl, before?”

With catsup on his lips, Robert finally took a break from eating. He squinted his eyes, like, to see Lana more clearly.

“Lana, what is your problem, now?” I said. “What is wrong with me, now!? I don’t like girls? Add that to your list. I’m not good enough for you; just say it like that. I’m not smart, I’m not ambitious, I’m not funny, I’m not cool.”

“Not anymore,” she said.

Troy put his arm around Lana to hold her tight, and petted her bouncy blonde hair. Robert was interested, now. He licked the catsup off his lips.

“Did he lie to you, too Lana?” said Robert. “Something about Jason?”

My face went red. Lana’s eyes got wide. She took a deep breath and stared at the air.

“Oh my God,” she said with an open-mouth smile, like Daddy just burned a poor village in her name.

Troy hugged her tighter, and she dug her nails into his arm.

“Ow, Lana. What the fuck!” he yelled, looking at his forearm and standing up. He slowly squeezed his hands into fists right by her face. She looked him dead in the eye. He would pound another guy in a second, but not a girl. And never, ever Svetlana Hornakovitch.

“I need to eat,” he said and grabbed me by the arm.

“No-Access just cut me!” he said, as we walked to the line. There were little curved red imprints in his arm from those shiny green fingernails. “What is up with you and the Virgin?”

I said: “Why do girls think they can beat up on you and you can’t get them back?”

“It’s because of their hormones. They want to fuck, but they don’t have enough testosterone. So they just hit you or scratch you. Guys have more hormones, so they just come through and fuck.

He kept going: “Goddamn, we’d be perfect for each other, because I get it. When a girl gets mad at you, you’re supposed to fuck them. You don’t have to cuss them out or hit them back, or even argue; you just let them hit you and then you fuck, and it’s all good.”

Shut up, Troy, I thought.

“She’s thinks I don’t like girls.,” I said. “Well, I can’t stand her. That’s one girl I do not like. I used to think she was pretty but she’s such a bitch. Everything she does irritates me. How could I date someone like her?”

“Blue Man, that‘s the point! You can’t get around fights, unless you fuck. Don’t you see? That’s how guys and girls get along. When you both want to fight, you fuck! It’s that simple. But, I don’t know, maybe you don’t have enough male hormones.”

“Well, I’m not gonna fuck her. She can be The Virgin her whole life.”

“Yep, not enough hormones. Unless you aren’t really a guy or she’s not really a girl. Oh! Oh! That’s it: dude looks like a lady. Blue Man, I want to find out what she’s got down there. I’m all over that shit.”

Another back slap from Troy. More eyerolls from me.

“Well,” I said slowly, “then how does it work with two guys or two girls?”

“Blue, you just fucked my mind up. Goddamn, this line,” he said. “I’m starving!”

---

I couldn’t deal with Troy, either. So, when I got my cheeseburger, I hid back under the stairs to eat it. It came with fries, but I gave them to Robert on my way out of the cafeteria. Without looking at anyone, I just set them down next to him and left. Maybe he is the asshole for not getting it, for not knowing what I can’t tell him. Why do I have to tell anyone anything?

I turned my phone flashlight on the square tiles to see if there was still a blood stain fifteen tiles up and five over from the corner. I couldn’t tell. But there was a crack there, now, up and down the tiles, like the outline of buildings.

The bell rang, so I headed to US studies. No one I knew or cared about in my way. Then I got checked. By Jason! His elbow into my chest. On purpose! Where did he come from? The hall was packed.

He said nothing and looked away. No mean mug, no crazy eyes. But a red face. Then he tripped. Jason tripped on somebody’s shoes. He never trips. He does backflips and dance moves on Tik Tok. I could have been blind and known it was him, because I could smell him. (The Jason Smell: part new-scent Old Spice; part sweat, but not funk; part dryer sheet; part asshole, of course.)

And, Bam, I’m hard. Like hard as a rock.

Walked into the classroom, half leaning over to cover my dick, and everyone stared at me—my heart pumping hard, my ears hot. Mrs. Richter was setting up a film.

Before she turned off the lights, the Grapevine Girls stared at me from across the room. (I still didn’t know their names) Their eyes went wide, their arms made a questioning gesture, like what was that all about, Balloo? Balloo?

She got to them, too? No, they must have seen Jason check me, so now they will tell everyone. They will get no credit, though—no favors in return for filling the school machine with premium fuel. I gave them the finger and it was like, oh-my-god they were so offended!

The lights going off was like a miracle. Thank you Jesus, Buddha, Mohammad, Moses, Mary, Jehovah, and Momma!

[Under the stairs, the crack in the tiles widens, with the sound of plaster ripping apart.]

Richter flipped up the window blinds and sunlight burned the back of my eyes; there was an eclipse inside my skull. That was before I opened my eyes. I had slept the whole period and drooled on myself.

What did Lana text now? I could barely see it. Three letters in her stupid font: gay. But, it wasn’t as bad as I thought. It was just the word that came to mind a hundred times a day.

Still, it felt like the results of a science experiment. It looked like a mental health diagnosis. How could that be me?

I’d feel Maria out about it in Health.

She was already there doing her Trig homework. Trig-o-nom-e-try. I loved to think that I would never know the first thing about it. She would get it done by the time class was over. She never paid attention in health, except to Trig and sometimes me.

She looked at me too long when she saw me walk in. She tried to look like she was calm and collected.

“What!” I said

“Nothing!” and the big brown eyes got bigger.

“What did she say about me?”

“It’s stupid. Blue, your freaking out already. Lana is a troll. Just ignore her. I mean, no, you have to tell her off or she won’t stop.”

“Maria, you have to tell her to shut up! Do you believe her?”

“Blue, you have to solve your own problems, ok? Do not freak out on me or Robert. We didn’t do anything.”

I can’t get mad at her. It doesn’t work. It makes me feel like I’m a sinner in my private religion.

The Health topic was relationships.

[There is a low rumble, like thunder, from inside the walls. The lower section of wall is pushed away. Dust comes out in little clouds. Bits of plaster fall to the floor.] 

*****

I walked up the corner stairs, two steps at a time and Lana was at the top. I triple-stepped back down, then across to the Band stairs to get upstairs to Foods another way. I texted Maria You suck! and she said ok great. Pissed her off. Good. Just checking off my list.

Lana has math on the second floor; what was she doing? Will everybody please get away from me? She followed me to the band doors.

“Fuck off!” I yelled and she laughed. I grabbed her arm, pulled her into the utility room across from band, and shut the door.

“What do you want?” I spit on her and was proud of it.

“You’re gay.”

“I’m straight; I dated you. I dated Maria.”

“You didn’t date us! Wow!” her voice in that hysterical screech. “I know you didn’t date me! Just admit you are gay, and I will leave you alone. I don’t care; just say you are. Maria agrees with me, haha.”

“Bullshit. No, she doesn’t. You don’t care what I am, just that I’m not good enough for you!”

“Blue, what happened? You changed and now you don’t care. Look at your grades. What are you going to do about your life?”

“Fuck off!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. She smiled the most exaggerated Lana smile, that means, you are a fool and I am a queen.

But, she left! She actually fucked off, for once. For once in my life.

I decided I was done for the day. I wasn’t going to 7th period. Period. Jason would be there. Then Robert in 8th period English. Fuck him.

Robert can do no wrong. Come to think of it, none of my friends can do any wrong, ever. It’s not just Troy who has no remorse. Lana, none. Maria, never. Robert, none. I’m the only one who fucks up and cares, and I actually am fucked up, so there.

You win. I’m done.

Knock-knock on the utility door. The softest knock ever. I knew it wasn’t Sevetana. Nothing soft about her, except maybe her blond hair. Probably made of metal or needles.

“Hello? Can we talk?” the teacher said after she opened the door. She looked behind herself for Lana, who was gone. She looked back at me, clueless like everyone over 30.

“Don’t you have to….teach band?”

“They don’t need me, haha. I just beg them to play and they make a bunch of noise. If you can get back to class, I won’t give you a referral. We can just keep this between us.”

“I don’t care…”

“What’s your name?” She was going to start counselling me, I knew it.

“I’ll go to class!!”

“You rude little shit! I’m trying to help you.”

I squeezed past her and b-lined to Foods.

The wall falls forward like an unhinged draw bridge. More dust and bits of shit. The wooden beams behind it frame the darkness. The rumbling starts, again, like the Earth is trying to speak.

Walked into Foods. Jason was sitting at his island, alone.

My partner—Rhoda? Rhonda? —wasn’t there, again. What did she even look like? I couldn’t remember. And where was Drez?

I sat at my island, staring at the tan, fake-stone top. It was blank, like my mind.

Let Jason beat me up in front of everyone, I thought. I don’t care. He can smash my skull int“You are a team, now. Ok?” She was pointing to me and Jason.

What?! Are you kidding??

“Where’s….uh…. Rho-donda,” I asked almost laughing, cuz I was just done.

“Radina,” said Jason. “Yeah, she’s not coming back, dude.”

She’s dead?

“Can I just work by myself?” I asked and everybody laughed. What was so funny? Jason blinked and looked straight ahead. I wasn’t moving to his island and he wasn’t moving to mine.

But then he moved. And he shook my hand. Well, he crushed it.

“Let’s get to a meal plan, then, students,” said Mary Poppins!

Jason never looked at me; he just listed his favorites in the four food groups and asked me: “Whaddya got?” My list was pepperoni pizza, chocolate milk, sushi, orange chicken, caviar.

“Weird,” he said. His list was spinach, eggs, protein shake, spaghetti with meat sauce, multivitamin.

“No vegetables, dude?” he said.

“Um, pizza sauce and, um, avocado in the sushi, and, well, it can have carrots and cucumber. Oh, duh, and seaweed. Broccoli with the Orange chicken.

“Seaweed? Why not just spinach, it has everything.”

“Spinach is slimy.”

“You don’t have to cook it. But you can eat more if you cook it. Seaweed isn’t a vegetable, is it?”

“Well, a multivitamin isn’t a vegetable.”

“No shit, but it gets the job done.”

I was getting frustrated. “I don’t know. Just go with your list. I don’t care.”

Until this point, Jason was underlining words. He had taken my list from my hand and tossed it on the table. He stared at me whenever I opened my mouth. He was gonna say something stupid, I knew. At least it was good to be busy on a task, so the butterflies didn’t swarm too hard in my stomach. They weren’t puking all over.

But he didn’t say anything stupid. He didn’t do anything, really. I wanted him to punch me hard in the arm with his knuckle. We finished our meal plan. It was a combination of things that should never be eaten together, that would make a human or a butterfly puke, for sure.

Then, I just had to face Robert in English, and that long, painful day would be over. Actually, I didn’t face him. Never looked at him. Normally, we talked all through English—verbally, non-verbally, in writing and sign language, and even through other people, you know? But not anymore. Not at all.

I was always debating in my head if feeling numb meant having no feelings, or if it meant that your feelings were just cranked up to the max. I knew that when I showed up to school that morning, I would be getting fucked up, later. And I thought about it all day! But it was when I sat in English with Robert—but not with Robert—that I really wanted to get obliterated. I guess I didn’t know where my feelings were, where they went. And that was fucking scary.

When I finally got home, I had three shots of Sambuca, which I hated when I first tried it. But my parents—when they were both my parents—always got me licorice jellybeans for Easter, and I ate them like they were crack. So…anyways.

I was just drunk enough to text Jason and not care. If I had gotten obliterated, I wouldn’t have been able to text at all. I would have played System of a Down while the ceiling swirled above my bed and then fallen asleep.

I started thinking that he did punch me and that my arm really hurt, but it didn’t, of course. I wanted to cuss him out and fight. If I could cause harm to someone (psychopath!), it’d be the ultimate end of my day and my life.

And then I was fucking hard as a rock.

The funny thing was that Svetlana wanted me to be gay. She wanted me to be a fuck up, because I am American. She and her dad were so much better than everyone else. And you know what? Well, she was a racist, too. Not really anti-black. But anti-poor, anti-protest, anti-struggle, anti-complaint. But definitely anti-gay.

She didn’t get that I am a human being. She didn’t get that I lost my Dad, that I hate him, and that I think about him all the time. He just shut the door and left. He said, “See you, kiddo. Talk to you soon.” That was three year ago.

She doesn’t have a mother, and she doesn’t’ talk about it, doesn’t even act like mothers exist. Shoot Svetlana with an arrow and it will literally bounce off her.

*****

I didn’t remember Jason exactly saying that I could come over. But, you know how it is when you’re drunk and stupidly confident, because fuck it?

I walked to his house for maybe the 6th time, but this time with a different mission. I wanted something to happen. I wanted him to finish the job he started when he picked on me, when he made fun of me and when he punched me earlier. Didn’t he punch me?

He obviously didn’t like me. Why would he? It’s true that I hate—I hate!—losers who are sad sacks. But, after my day and three shots of Sambuca, what do you think I felt about myself?

Jason opened the side door of his house, and, no, he wasn’t expecting me! He looked behind himself into the house, then stared at me.

“Dude, what’s up?” he said. Not a good tone. Gray sweats and a T-shirt, Nike flip flops with socks.

“Hey man…” Drunk as fuck.

He laughed out loud. His teeth all pointed toward the center of his mouth. When you smile with all your teeth, it totally changes your face. It’s like a different face! Well, I didn’t want him to kill me when I got that kind of reaction from him.

He let me in and led me to his room. My second time in his room. His little brother (gray sweats and a T-shirt, Nike flip-flops with socks) walked by and looked at me like I was a ghost. I heard him say my full name like it was a question, and then, “What the fuck.”

Jason shut the bedroom door, locked it, and sat on his bed; elbows on knees, hands clasped under his chin, eyebrows up in a question mark. I found a large piece of floor and kind of fell-sat.

“What’s up?” he said again.

“I wanna work out,” I said.

More laughter, more teeth! “No way, Malone. You’re too fucked up!” He kicked at my shoulder, the one that wasn’t hurting.

“Lemme see where you’re at.”

Huh?

He slapped his right bicep, his arm in an L-shape.

Oh, I’m supposed to take off my clothes, I thought. Jason was both a dick and a God. You don’t say no to God. Even when he’s a dick.

I tried to double-arm my jacket and my shirt, all at once over my head, and this didn’t work. I got tired at trying this, and my eyes closed. My head felt like a beach ball riding a wave.

Suddenly, I smelled his body. I opened my eyes to his fine blond hair in my face. He was getting my jacket off, then my shirt. I smiled and laughed because I was not mad about anything.

“Jason!” was shouted from outside the room. His brother banged on the door. Jason ignored it.

He flicked my nipples with his fingers. I made a noise that surprised us both. He covered my mouth—like, ‘shut up’—and looked behind him at the door. He was so serious. It was the last time that day that I looked him in the eyes.

He kneeled, facing me. He pinched my nipples hard and it hurt. I flinched, but my mind exploded; I loved the pain.

He stood up but stopped me from standing. He pulled his dick and balls out and rubbed the balls on my mouth. I kissed them once, like it was a baby’s cheek. He said, “tongue.” I licked his balls up and down like I was trying to touch my tongue to my nose. He sighed.

His brother banged harder on the door. “Mom’s gonna be home at 8:30, his brother yelled.

“I know, fuck-wad! Fuck off!!” Jason yelled, and we both looked at the red numbers of his alarm clock. 7:43 P.M.

He rolled me on my side and fucked my mouth. Slowly at first, but then he revved up. He like fucked my whole head while pushing down on it.

My mouth filled with spit and tasted like metal and….him. When he came, he grabbed my hair with both fists and squeezed. He filled my mouth with the sour taste of cum. I knew I was supposed to swallow it, so I swallowed the whole mixture until it was gone.

Then I felt pain in my throat and tasted blood in my mouth. I thought that we must have had sex, but it was so quick and I was still drunk. It didn’t feel like sex. But then again, I didn’t know what sex felt like. I mean, we were almost naked, he got off using my mouth, and I know I was there!

With his hands under my arms, he pulled me up from behind and laid me on his bed, and on my side. He got behind me and pulled the covers over us. He pushed his knees into mine until I was sitting in the chair of his body. Then he wrapped me in a bear hug.

This seemed more like sex to me. But we weren’t still having sex, were we?

The rumbling subsides, and the dust settles, and a cold wind blows out of the opening. Then there is silence. It might be a relief that it seems to be over. But what had happened and what might be next?