Chapter 38

Lesson Learned

I walked to the kitchen with my parents still discussing the working of a washing machine. A box was sitting on the table. I glanced inside and felt my stomach drop. Picking one up, I read the title of a self-help book for troubled teens. Taking a deep breath, I set it to the side and shuffled through the other books. All had the same message, how to fix a messed up teen.

“Aden,” said my mother softly.

I glanced over my shoulder to see a soft smile.

“Aden Perri, you better have not even thought for a moment that I bought any of those.”

Laughing lightly, I shook my head. My eyes were burning though, and I was doing my best to hide it. She walked over and hugged me as my father appeared.

“What this?” Walking to the table, he picked one up, and his eyes went wide.

“Gifts from the Harpers.” She put her arm around my waist and squeezed me against her side. “I’ll make it clear now, I will not be apologizing to such a dreadful woman again.” She turned and went to the living room. “Quint grab the matches and bring the box.”

My father chuckled to himself as he did so. I picked up the one left behind and followed them to the fireplace.

“She was so excited that I showed up, so she won’t have to drop them off at the house for me. This is how I feel about her taste in literature,” mocked my mother, before grabbing one and ripping out a handful of pages. She tossed it into the pit. After ripping up a few more, she motioned to her husband. “Just dump the rest.”

He did so with a smile on his face. Kneeling down, he struck a match and held it to the pile of torn pages. I watched from behind them as the fire grew.

My mother looked at me and then the book clutched tightly in my hands. “Aden,” she said calmly, nodding toward the fireplace.

Walking over to her, I dropped to my knees and ran my thumbs across the indented words on the cover. “Why would she give you all of these?”

“Because I must be raising my son wrong, if he turned out gay, and she’s just looking out for the well being of the community.” She rolled her eyes. “No child has turned out worse than the horrid boy she raised. No wonder you hit him.”

I sucked in my lips to stop from smiling.

My mother reached up and brushed my hair behind my ear. “Aden, I don’t want to change you. I don’t want you to force yourself to be straight, because then you won’t be you. You won’t be my son.” Grabbing my chin, she give it a gentle shake. “So be gay,” she stood, “from what I’ve heard they’re fabulous.”

I couldn’t hold it my laughter this time. “‘kay.”

“Well, have you two had breakfast?”

“No.” I shook my head.

“Then I’ll make us some pancakes. I even put in some chocolate chips. I think we all need it.”

She walked to the kitchen. A few seconds later I could hear her getting out the pans. My father rose to one knee and grabbed my shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze, before standing and leaving the room.

The tears were threatening to fall. They were good tears though, one of relief. I roughly wiped them away and let out a wavering breath. Opening the book, I tore out a chunk of the pages and tossed them onto the dying flame. My parents accepted me. I didn’t need the Harper’s or the town’s approval, or even that of anyone in this world. My family did, and that was enough.

I stood and with a smile, tossed the book into the fire.

***

I couldn’t sit still as we waited for the principal to meet with us. My leg was bouncing up and down as I snuck quick glances at the nearby door. My parents sat on either side of me. They were too calm.

Explaining the situation to the principal was a bad enough thought, but my father had my phone in his pocket. They were here to plead my case and were using everything. I loved them, but god, I wished they had left that at home.

The door opened.

Mr. Grant smiled at us. “Come on in.”

I jumped up and hurried into the room with my head bowed. I took the far of three chairs in front of his desk and glued my eyes to the floor. My parents shook the principal’s hand and did the usual greetings before entering. They sat down calmly, while I was starting to sweat. I felt sick. I felt sick anytime I had to talk about being gay to someone new. I just couldn’t take that pressure of not knowing, if I was going to get a negative reaction.

“So,” breathed Mr. Grant, leaning over his chest with his hands clasped on top. “Aden, we had an incident that we need to discuss.”

I squirmed in my seat, biting my lip.

“Aden, you’ve never had a problem getting along with other students. You’ve never been sent to the principal's office once. I’ve talked with Chris, and now, I want to hear what you have say.”

I shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

Mr. Grant sighed.

I glanced at my parents, wanting them to take the lead and tell him for me. Neither showed any signs of saying a thing, and just waiting for me to explain what went on that day.

Clenching my jaw, I scratched at the design on the armrest of the chair. “He found out I’m gay,” I whispered. I took a deep breath and turned to the window. “He said some stuff.”

“Aden,” said Mr. Grant with a smile. “My job is to make sure the school is a safe environment for all students, no matter their sexual orientation. Chris did admit to be joking around and said some things teasingly to you.” He sat up straight in his chair. “I understand how this could come across differently to you. I will talk to him later and explain that some words, even when said in a joking matter, are not okay to say. But, you, Mr. Perri,” he looked me firmly in the eyes. “I do not want you engaging in any kind of physical violence again. If there is another problem, you come to me. You’re a good kid, I don’t want to have to suspend you again.”

I shook my head. “I won’t.”

“Good.” He turned to my parent. “There’s one more problem that we need to fix.” Reaching into his desk, he took out a couple pamphlets.

I sat up to get a look at him.

“These are local tutoring programs for high school students that the county offers. I understand you’ve been under stress lately, Aden, but you’re failing math. In order for him to graduate, he has to pass that class.”

Sinking into my seat, I groaned. “I don’t want a tutor.”

“You’re getting one, anyways,” said my mother plainly as she picked them up and handed some to my father.

“I spoken with Mr. Philips.” He picked up a file from off the floor and set it on his desk. “We’re going to allow Aden to redo all his past assignments, and retake the test.”

Covering my face, I moan in frustration.

“That’s enough, Aden.” My mother tapped my leg. “Mope and whine all you want, you will redo each and every one.” She held up a pamphlet. “With your new tutor.”

I glared at her.

Mr. Grant scribbled down some stuff on a notepad. “We will contact them and arrange it for you.” He stood and offered his hand to me.

I rose to my feet and shook it. “Thanks,” I breathed, before trudging off toward the door.

My father grabbed my arm and pulled me to him. “Head off to class, we’re going to discuss some other things with Mr. Grant. Alright?”

I nodded. “‘kay.”

Going to the door, I opened it and slipped outside. Closing it behind me, I leaned back. I could hear my father’s voice and the phrase text messages stood out.

I should have deleted the whole damn memory, before I let him have it. I marched out of the office and past the secretary. She tried to stop me to give me a tardy note, but I kept on going. I didn’t want to go to class right now. I need to be alone.

Slipping into the nearest bathroom, I went to the counter. The one person inside finished drying their hands and left. I watched him leave through the mirror, before glancing at myself. I hadn’t slept well, and it was showing. The bags under my eye were pretty prominent. Turning on the water, I dipped my hands under the flow and rubbed some water under my eyes. Hopefully that would make the swelling go down.

Footsteps sounded against the tile. I turned toward the door to see Chris, typing on his phone. Turning off the water, I wiped my face on my sleeve.

“What have you been up to, Aden?” He slipped his cellphone into his pocket.

I shook my head. “Nothing,” I muttered.

“Saw your parents.”

I backed up against the wall and folded my arms. “They had to talk to the principal, about what happened last week.”

Chris smiled and shook his head. The bruise on the side of his face was still visible. “That cheap shot you took?”

Clenching my jaw, I stared at the stalls. “Look, I’m sorry alright, but you didn’t have to tell the whole school.”

Chris shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I warn everyone that there’s a fag? I would want to know.”

I glared at him. “Why?” I muttered. “You only attracted sluttty, cheating girlfriends. There’s not a gay in this country that would want anything to do with you. I sure don’t.”

My eyes went wide when he charged. Chris grabbed by the front of my shirt and slammed me against the wall. His fist followed as it plowed into my stomach. I buckled over and gagged.

“We’re going to clear some things up, Aden.” He glanced back at the door. “You don’t talk to me. You don’t look at me. You stay the hell away from me and everyone else. Am I clear?”

I nodded, still struggling to breath.

“I’m not going to let a fag ruin things, so stay out of the way and keep your mouth shut. Alright?”

“‘kay,” I breathed.

He stepped back and smoothed out his jacket. “Open that cock sucking mouth of your again, and I’ll slammed my fist down your throat. But then again, you might like that too much,” he chuckled. Chris rubbed his knuckles. “You’ll be keeping this and anything else that happens until the end of the year between us. My family is very prominent in this town, and well, to be honest, no one is going to take the side of a homo. No matter how much your mother begs.”

I clenched my jaw, but remained silent.

“Watch yourself, Aden.” He turned and left the bathroom.

Gritting my teeth, I wanted to scream. I hated him. Why had I been so stupid for all those years. Standing in front of the mirror, I lifted my shirt. The red outline of his fist was already forming.

“Damn it,” I whispered. I pulled a bunch of paper towel out of the dispenser and doused them in cold water. Gently pressing them against the mark, I hoped it would keep the swelling down, or at least dull the pain.

I was never going to punch someone twice my size and weight again. Lesson learned, lesson clearly learned.