That word, that solitary and hateful word, seemed to stop time right in its tracks. Bryson felt like he might be sick, bile rising in his throat as he took the car keys from Aidan and clutched them so tightly in his hand now that he felt them cutting into his skin. He could see Pete now over Aidan’s shoulder, could see the look of utter disgust in his eyes as well as the look of shock in Colleen’s.

  Aidan turned around slowly then, the ruin and the bedlam going on nearby seemingly forgotten now. He took a step toward Pete and then stopped, a calculating look on his face as he smacked his gum between his teeth and stared at the other boy. “Take it back. Right now.”

  “I’m not taking anything back, because it’s the truth. Why should I take it back? Are you some kind of fag or something?” Pete asked, throwing that awful word at them again. To Bryson, it felt like a punch in the gut, especially when he noted that Colleen hadn’t bothered to say a word in return.

  This was not how he had imagined it, not even a little bit. He had pictured telling his secret on his own terms and in his own time. He had wanted to tell Colleen himself in private, had wanted to savor that moment for himself. It appeared Pete had backed him into a corner, both of them, and Aidan was coming out swinging one way or another.

  “Maybe I am, and maybe I will kick your ass and teach you some manners.”

  The rest was a blur of action as Aidan lunged forward and swung at Pete. Colleen screamed and scrambled away from the two of them as Pete swung back with a clumsily made fist, clearly never having been in a fight in his entire life. There was a disgusting popping sound then as Aidan’s fist made contact with Pete’s nose, followed by a terrific amount of blood that seemed to go absolutely everywhere.

  It was Bryson who saw the flashing lights coming toward them and heard the siren screeching as the police approached the school. He got the doors unlocked and begged everyone to get in, just get inside and they could finish it later, but it was too late. Two cop cars with four cops inside pulled into the parking lot, and they knew they were busted. The others were running now, scattering to get away, two of the cops hurrying over to break up the fight between Aidan and Pete while the other two took off to see who they could catch before they reached the nearby fence.

  Fifteen minutes later they were being driven to the local police station, with Aidan and Pete separated in two different cars. Bryson didn’t speak a word to him on their way over, and he sat quietly on a bench while they called his mother. She was there in record time, demanding to know what had happened to her son. They weren’t able to prove that any of them had participated in the graffiti, thankfully, though they asked for their cooperation in naming those who did. Bryson shamelessly rolled over on Roger, who had been the one to throw that wayward roll of toilet paper, and so they let him go with his mom.

  When they left, Aidan was still there, waiting on his mother and stepfather to come, if they were even coming at all. If they didn't, then he’d be sleeping at the police station that night until someone came the next morning to pick him up. Part of him felt bad and worried for him, but the other part was supremely angry. He’d been taken in by the cops, had been outed, and had been part of something he never in a million years would have participated in, and it was all seemingly Aidan’s fault.

  As they drove back to Druid Hills, his mother didn’t quite seem to know what to say. In fact, she said nothing at all until they were pulling up to their house. Charlie the Banker had driven her to the school to pick up the car before coming to the police station. As she put the car in park, she turned to him, a heavy frown set on her pretty face.

  “Your father has to know about this, Bryson, and he won’t be as forgiving as I am.”

  That was all she said to him before heading into the house, leaving him to follow. Bryson knew she was angry at him, but also just thankful that he was alive and that nothing worse had happened. He was thankful for that too, but he knew she was right. His dad would have to know, and what came after would be very ugly. He also knew that if this was the sort of thing Aidan Driscoll enjoyed doing, if this was the type of person he wanted to be, then maybe it wouldn’t work out after all. It was an idea that made him sad and left him feeling torn, but it was something he couldn’t just shake off. They’d have to have a serious talk soon, whenever he was done being so angry, and he knew he’d have to talk to Colleen too. The whole night had been a mess, and now he was the one who had to get busy cleaning up the pieces.

  Chapter Twelve

  School the next day was excruciating, but Bryson's mother refused to let him skip. She drove him there herself and dropped him off out front where he had to do the walk of shame inside all by himself. The news of the previous night's antics had gotten around already, and people were whispering, a few shooting him sidelong glances as he moved through the halls. He got to his locker and was not surprised to find that Aidan wasn't there. He switched his books out quickly before heading to Latin. He kept his head down, sliding into a seat in the back, as far away as he could get from Peter.

  Honestly, he was pretty shocked to see that Peter had come at all today, especially when he got a good look at his face. Bryson hissed in sympathy when he saw the other boy sporting two black eyes and a swollen nose, which was taped in two places and had an interesting blend of purple and green bruises. Aidan had hit him hard and with real purpose, though Bryson had never doubted his intent. Aidan had warned Peter, but when Peter hadn’t backed off, Aidan had made good on his warning.

  Bryson didn't see any of the others until lunchtime when he spotted Colleen lingering near the salad bar. He made his way up to her and touched her elbow, asking her to please talk with him. She looked exhausted but agreed, joining him at one of the outside tables despite the coolness of the day and the lingering promise of rain. They sat at a different table than the one beneath the tree, which felt weirdly sacred to him somehow and perched instead in one of the few specks of sunlight.

  “I'm sorry about last night, and I hope you know that. I didn't know we would be at the school, and I had no idea that things would go south the way that they did. I'm also really sorry that Aidan sort of beat up Pete, and I'm especially sorry we got taken to the police station. What did your parents say?” Bryson asked, hoping she wasn't in an insane amount of trouble.

  To his surprise, Colleen cracked a tiny smile while chewing on the end of the straw she had shoved into her can of Coke. “My dad thought it was funny that Pete got socked in the face. He doesn't like him much, and when he heard what had happened, he thought that he deserved it. They grounded me for the weekend, but that's about it. Mostly just out of principle, they at least do understand that I did nothing explicitly wrong. Besides going out with Pete, that is, which Dad practically considers a crime against humanity.”

  Her smile faltered then, and she reached out to touch the back of his hand with her fingertips. “You know if it's true, you can tell me, Bryson. You're my best friend, one of my only friends, and if you're gay, that won't change how I feel for you. Friendship doesn't work like that; you just don't abandon the people you love. Also, concerning what Aidan did, Pete really did deserve it. My dad was right about that part, at least. He had no business saying that to you, no matter what the circumstances are. I'm glad Aidan decked him, and I hope he's learned a lesson for the future. Maybe he'll be nicer to his next girlfriend’s friends. Also, you know, I'm sorry that I didn't say anything to him at the time. I was just in shock.”

  Bryson had been fighting open a bag of pretzels, but he stopped then and laid it aside, eyes wide as he regarded what she was telling him. “You guys broke up? I mean, I didn't know what to think last night when you said nothing, and he just kept going. I thought maybe you agreed with him, and now I feel ashamed for thinking that. You are my best friend, and I love and adore you. I should have trusted you more,” he told her earnestly, taking her hand and holding it.

  “I never told anyone because it felt like the kind of thing that would either break or strengthen my relationships with people. I didn't want to risk losing you, so I just said nothing. I was so angry at you for a while because I had a crush on Pete. I resented a bit that you didn't want him until after his total transformation over the summer, but I started letting that go when I spent more time with Aidan. We've um, we've kissed twice, and I do like spending time with him. After last night, though, I'm not so sure. He didn't seem bothered by what was going on, and I know he defended me and all and it's great, but violence isn't my thing. You know how I feel about that, given some of the stuff that went on at my house when my dad was still around.”

  Colleen knew him well and had heard enough stories about Bryson's father, but she didn't agree with him this time. Instead, she opened the pretzels for him and let out a little sigh of frustration at him. “Have you ever told him that, Bry? I mean, he can't read your mind; you have to tell him those things. I don't necessarily think he did what he did because he has violent tendencies, I think he just got mad that anyone would say that sort of thing to you. You need to talk to him though, you can't just hold it in and get mad when he doesn't know what you're upset about. I think you need to give him another shot and figure out where things are going with you two. There's nothing wrong with talking something out before you just abandon it.”

  He knew Coleen was right, even though he didn't necessarily like it. To avoid responding, he stuffed two pretzels into his mouth and then offered her the bag, resting his chin in his hand. He would try his best to talk with Aidan and get some answers, but he wasn't promising anything in the end. It came down to what was said and how it went.

  Aidan had turned up to school late that day, well into the second class of the morning. He had a note from home to excuse him, with an amendment at the bottom that if they had questions or thought the note was forged that they were welcome to call his mother or stepfather about it. He was exhausted, barely able to hold his head up once he got to class, and not even managing to take any notes. At lunchtime, he had a meeting with the principal, where he had to rehash the events of the night before and where he got a warning about fighting with other students whether it was after school hours or not.

  The night before had been awful, his mother and Joseph making him wait nearly two hours before they arrived at the police station to pick him up. Once they'd gotten home, all hell broke loose, the fighting not ceasing until nearly two in the morning. It had mostly been Joseph screaming and pacing while his mother cried into her hands. Aidan sat on the sofa, just taking it in. He had almost gotten up and said something when the little kids came down, but his mother had whisked them away upstairs and didn’t come back down. After that Joseph had really let go, reminding him yet again about what a waste of space he was. Once he had finally crawled into bed, he'd slept just a couple of hours, restless with aching hands, and wondering if Bryson was okay.

  He didn't get to catch up with the other boy until chemistry class, where he found him already at their lab table. There wasn't time to talk now, but once the lecture got started on this thankfully lab-free day, he scribbled a note on a scrap of paper and slid it over.

  Are you okay? Talk after?

  Bryson read the note and glanced up at him, giving him two nods for yes on both counts. He didn't write back or offer up anything else in the way of communication. He kept taking notes and focused on the lecture. Aidan spent most of the class period scribbling down a few highlights and trying not to fall asleep, catching himself a few times slumping over. Every now and then. He took the time to stare at Bryson, just sort of studying his face before scribbling down a few more notes.

  By the time the period ended, he felt wrecked and ready to throw in the towel, but the day wasn't over yet. There was another class to go after this one, and then they had a robotics meeting after school. He had gotten permission from his mother to stay over, and then she would pick him up with the little kids so he could join her at his sister's gymnastics class. Normally that was the thing he lobbied to avoid, but after last night there was no way he'd be allowed to get out of anything anytime soon.

  He did fall asleep in calculus, slumped over his book with his head down. It was his best class and normally he loved it, but today things just weren't working in his favor. He managed to get the homework assignment from someone else on the way out, heading straight for Bryson's locker after the bell. The other boy wasn't there, so he headed for the auditorium for the meeting, finding him already there.

  There was a good fifteen or twenty minutes before anyone else would show up, and so they were alone, which Bryson worked hard to avoid. His tactics hadn't worked, though. There they were, sitting cross-legged on the stage with the curtain down, pretending to pick through all the ideas and blueprints for the bot. Aidan had sat close to him but not quite close enough to touch like he was too afraid to get near. That was probably a good bet today since Bryson was feeling grouchy and a bit snippy.

  Aidan was the brave one, and he finally spoke, chewing on his thumbnail at the same time, which made his words come out muffled and mumbled. “Look. I'm sorry, okay? About last night, I mean. I'm sorry for taking you there, and for what those idiots did. I didn't know though, Bryson, so you can't hold this against me. And if you're mad at me for hitting Pete, well, I'm sorry about that too, but he deserved it. He called you something really, really nasty and I won't let him do that. Not to you, not to anyone. I don't tolerate bullies, okay? I get that shit enough at home without letting it happen to you in public.”

  Bryson looked up from the sketches he was holding, mouth set into a thin line that made him look like his mother, the way she looked when she wasn’t happy about something.

  “When they started getting destructive you just stood there, Aidan. You just stood back and watched like it was perfectly fine somehow. What they were doing wasn't fine, and that's not the sort of thing I want to be part of or the kind of people I want to be around. As for the fight... I don't tolerate violence, not from anyone. I'm sorry about what you go through at home, but I went through stuff too, and violence gets to me bad. I watched my dad do some pretty nasty stuff to my brother before he died, including hit him, and it just gets to me. I know why you did it, I'm not disputing that, but next time maybe try something else before you just go punching people and breaking noses.”

  “Are you serious? I was defending you, Bryson. Defending you and being some violent prick are not synonymous,” Aidan growled, clearly unhappy with the comparison being made. “You don't have to like violence or think it's the right thing, but what he said was horrible, and he deserved what he got. I asked him twice to take it back, to not be that guy, but he was that guy and so I took the next step. What is this really about? Is it just about the fact that it was him I was punching? Are you still hoping for a shot with him?”

  “Hoping for a shot with him? He called me a fag, Aidan. He called me that horrible, disgusting word, and then he tried to hit you back. Not to mention the fact that he's super straight, and that he just got dumped by my best friend. So, no, I'm not hoping for a shot.” Bryson felt downright venomous now, fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white. “I got over Pete a long time ago, so don't go bringing that up to me. He was on his way out the door the day you came over to my house, and I think you know that.”

  Aidan huffed, leaning back into the wall and shaking his head. “How am I supposed to know that? I can't know what you don't tell me, Bryson. I think I'm the one here who has made my intentions pretty clear, and I've been patiently waiting for you to decide what it is you want.”

  “What I want is for you to understand that you can't be the guy you were before. You can't hang out with people who graffiti schools and act like you're okay with it. You can't punch bigots every time they act stupid, and you can't let yourself get kicked out of Woodside. You just can't. I know that you were angry before and you wanted to teach your stepdad some sort of lesson, but it's not about him anymore. This is about us, and if there's going to be any us going forward, you have to do better. It's all that bullshit or it's me, point-blank.”

  “Bryson,” Aidan whispered, voice low but serious now. “Come on. You think I wouldn't choose you over all that crap? You're the only decent thing about this place, the only thing that's done me any good. None of that means anything, it's just what I did for so long to get at Joseph. To try and assert myself as my own person, capable of living outside of his box. I'll live inside the box for you though, if you want me to. Because you mean that much, because I need you that bad. You gotta keep me grounded, Bry.”

  Bryson nodded his head, scooting over finally so their knees and hips were touching. “Look, this isn't going to be some crazy overnight love affair, all right? I don't play those sorts of games. First of all, I've never really properly dated before. Secondly, I still have a lot of people to come out to. I don't know your situation with that, but I want to be able to tell my mom and dad and everyone myself. I'm sure Pete will be spreading the rumor as soon as he's sure you won't systematically destroy him, but I believe in taking things slow and letting things build. This is real life, not some meet-cute, and I reserve the right to take things as carefully as I want.”

  “Of course, and I respect that. My mom knows about me, and my real dad knew. I was pretty young when I started figuring myself out, and they both took it okay. Joseph sort of knows, but he's one of those types who prefers to put the blinders on and only sees what he wants to see. I had a casual boyfriend at the boarding school I was in, and he was involved in some of the many infractions that led to my expulsion. Those were the things Joseph glossed over, but I don't care if he knows. He can't control that part of me any more than he can control anything else,” Aidan told him, seemingly not bothered about the coming out part of their relationship. “You tell people when you want them to know and don't worry about Pete. I'll make sure he stays in line.”

 

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