CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad,” Ava assured me on our way to our visual arts class. “Augustus the Gay kind of has a nice ring to it.”
I shot her a look. “But I’m not gay.”
She shrugged.
“What?”
“You’re not gay.”
“Yes, I’m not gay, that’s what I said.”
“But if you were, there’s nothing wrong with that,” she pointed out.
“Obviously,” I said. “I’m not saying there is anything wrong with that.”
“You’re kind of acting like there is,” she said, gaze resting on my father’s crucifix dangling from my neck.
“I just don’t want to be called something I’m not,” I said defensively. “Is that so wrong?”
Ava said nothing, which meant it was wrong, and she was annoyed.
The truth was, I knew I couldn’t really talk about this with her.
For one, she was a lesbian. Being insecure about my new nickname sounded like I thought being queer was wrong, which wasn't how I felt at all. And two, when Ava first came out, she’d endured a lot worse than a stupid nickname.
The boys in our year made jokes about ‘turning her straight’ while the girls distanced themselves, telling her not to flirt with them.
Now, she wore her badge proudly, the lesbian flag all over her social media. But I’d been there during her struggles. And now here I was, practically making a scene because I was labelled gay for not hooking up with a girl the second I had a chance. She probably thought I was such an asshole.
“Look,” I broke the silence, “I’m sorry.
You’re right. There’s nothing wrong with being gay and I shouldn’t care if people call me some stupid nickname.
I just…” I ran my fingers through my hair, searching for the right words to accurately explain the thoughts and feelings fluttering wildly in my head.
It was hard to voice the things I usually buried deep down. “…I’m just not."
“That’s fine. I get it.” She smiled, though it seemed forced. “I mean, I’d be horrified if someone called me straight.”
She entered the classroom ahead of me and I followed, hoping that I could amend the rift I’d caused between us. During our lesson, I tried to think of a way to start up a conversation, but every time I opened my mouth, words lodged in my throat, silencing me.
At lunch, Ava told me she was going to study in the library with Eden. She invited me to join her, but I knew she didn’t really want me there.
Eden and Ava were officially dating—Ava had asked her out on the school excursion—and they’d gone out to dinner over the weekend.
They were keeping things on the down low, but Ava had updated me every step of the way.
I could tell Eden made her happy, but I wasn’t thrilled about sharing my best friend.
For the first time since Ava and I met in the art studio in year seven, I was eating alone amongst the scent of wet paint and damp brushes.
This is it, the Devil drawled, she left you. Just like your mother did.
***
Augustus the Gay. Roman Emperor of the Queers. These titles chased me through crowded corridors, narrow staircases, and across the vast school yard. There was nowhere the whispers did not follow.
Elysse and her friends were going out of their way to make my life miserable, to punish me for fracturing Elysse’s ego. But they weren’t the only ones. Alexander seemed intent on punishing me too, but I had the sense it was for an entirely different reason.
He found me in the art block, snatching my paintbrush out of my hands to wave in front of me like a wand. Dark circles decorated his green eyes, his expression empty despite the laugh that poured from his lips.
My lack of response seemed to anger him more than any word I could utter. He wanted something from me. I just wasn’t sure what.
“Are you gay, then, Saint?” he drawled.
I resisted the urge to slam my fist into his face. It seemed our temporary truce was over.
“No,” I said.
“You were looking at me when you were kissing her,” he murmured, “did you want to kiss me instead?”
Heat flamed my cheeks, mouth void of all saliva when I swallowed. “No.”
He leaned closer, fingers playing with the crucifix hanging from my neck, my breath catching in my throat when he flicked it back in my face.
“Too catholic to be queer, too queer to be catholic,” he spat as he backed away, leaving me alone in the empty art room.
***
The Am I Gay Quiz glared up at me from my laptop screen, the only source of light in my dark bedroom. It was nearing midnight, and despite having an English exam the following morning, I could not bring myself to sleep or study.
The quiz waited with question one staring at me expectantly, my fingers hovering over the mouse. I was nervous, as though my answers would determine my entire future.
The first question was already a difficult one: Are you physically attracted to a person of the same sex? I hadn’t really experienced any kind of physical attraction, so I selected unsure.
The second question asked if I’d ever wanted to kiss someone of the same gender. I selected no, not interested.
Alexander’s lips crossed my vision, calling me a liar.
Did I want to kiss him? No. He was an asshole.
And when I looked at his lips, it wasn’t with sexual desire.
It was…different. He was beautiful in a way I wanted to capture with a paint brush.
You could think someone beautiful without wanting to have sex with them.
Mountains were beautiful, but you wouldn’t kiss them.
I continued through the questions, pausing at Has anyone ever asked you if you were gay? I reluctantly selected yes.
I answered the remaining questions and waited, anxiously, as a loading screen prepared my results.
In the centre of the screen, it said, You may be bisexual or on the LGBTQ+ spectrum.
I immediately closed my laptop and reached for my phone. Without even thinking, I messaged Ava and asked: ‘How did you know you liked girls?’
Three dots appeared immediately, indicating Ava was awake and typing up a response. ‘You okay?’ she wrote.
I sighed and left her on read, rolling over to bury my face in my pillow. I didn't want to think about it. I was just confused. There were more important things to worry about, like exams.
Sleep eventually lured me into a nightmare-fuelled slumber, one without my mother and without any flames. But the Devil remained, as always, hiding in the shadows.
In the dream, I emerged from my bedroom and stepped out into the hallway, pausing as I recognised the familiar mold-covered walls of the House on North Lane.
Cobwebs decorated the ceiling, the pale glow of a lantern illuminating the blood stains on the floor.
On the other end of the hallway, a small boy sat on the edge of a mattress that seemed to disappear into the wall. His body was facing sideways; head completely turned the other way. His brown curls were the only feature I could make out in the darkness.
As soon as I stepped forward, I was once more inside my bedroom. Confused, I reemerged out into the hallway and the boy was still there, though this time his head had turned slightly, his pale ear and jawline now visible.
I stepped forward and returned to the bedroom once more.
Shaking my head, I re-entered the hallway, the boy’s head now facing the same direction as his body, the whole left side of his face now visible. He looked a bit like Auden, but the curls were all mine.
“Hello?” I called out.
The boy did not turn. I stepped forward and immediately returned to the bedroom.
Frustrated, I burst from the door and once inside the hallway, glanced toward the boy.
His head had turned more in my direction, the curve of his lips drawing attention to the blood dripping down his chin.
A single curl fell over his left eye, shielding it from view, though I could have sworn I saw something crawl out from it.
This time, I made sure to remain perfectly still.
One step and I would be back in my bedroom.
“Hello?” I called out again.
There was no response. No sound, other than the gentle pitter patter of rain falling on the roof.
The boy was draped in shadow, expression hidden. I risked a step forward and was immediately punished. Taking a deep breath, I opened my bedroom door and calmly stepped out into the hallway once more.
This time, the boy was facing me, his entire, terrible face illuminated by the light.
Spidery veins crawled up his pale neck and over his cheeks, curving around his eyeless sockets. Dark blood spilled from his mouth and nose, a crimson tide barrelling toward me. I backed away, but with each retreating step, the closer I seemed to get.
The boy’s lips parted slowly; a dirt covered vine protruding from his mouth, slithering toward me like a snake.
It found my ankle, cold and damp, crawling higher as a piercing wail erupted from the boy.
It shook the room, fungi growing from the boy’s rotting flesh as the vines pulled me closer and closer. The boy reached out a hand and–
I woke with a jolt, lungs gasping for air as I sat upright, a puddle of sweat dampening the sheets underneath me. Running a hand over my face, I reassured myself that it was all just a bad dream, but the taste of iron lingered on my tongue.
***
It was the last week of school before summer break. Assignments handed in; exams completed.
Since Eden only shared one of our classes, I did not have to compete for Ava’s attention as often as I would at recess and lunch. We watched news bloopers on her laptop, sharing earphones, laughing hysterically until our stomachs ached.
It felt like the old days again—the days before Eden.
“Hey, are we still seeing The Conjuring 2 tomorrow night?” I asked on our way to PE, our gym uniforms conveniently ‘forgotten’ at home.
“Oh, shit, sorry, I forgot to tell you,” Ava said. “I went to see it with Eden on Sunday night. It was so good! You’ll love it!”
A lump formed in my throat, her words stunning me into silence. I swallowed my hurt, afraid of what I might say as anger, confusion and disappointment fought for dominance over my racing thoughts.
We’d been preparing to see this movie for months. We talked about it non-stop, watching promotional interviews in class when we should have been doing work. I’d been so excited.
Ava must have sensed the betrayal piercing my heart, for she added, “I can still watch it with you if you want.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” I mumbled.
“I’m sorry,” Ava said. “Eden wanted to see it and I just completely forgot.”
“Completely forgot?” I repeated. “Are you serious? We’ve been talking about it for months!”
Ava sighed. “I know. But she’s my girlfriend, okay? I got excited that she was interested in horror and wanted to watch a movie with me.”
“Oh, so now that you have a girlfriend, I mean nothing to you?” I scoffed.
Careful, Augustus. Rein it in.
“That’s not what I said!” Ava snapped.
“Well it’s how it feels!” I snapped back.
“You’re just jealous,” she scoffed, shaking her head, “you’re jealous because I have a girlfriend and you don’t.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Yes, I’m damn serious!”
“Ava, you’re not fucking special for having a girlfriend,” I said, a laugh eerily similar to the Devil’s escaping my throat. “You know what you are? A bad fucking friend.”
“A bad friend?” she echoed, pausing in the hallway to stand in front of me, tears swimming in her eyes. “I am the bad friend? You’re the one who has been miserable and rude ever since I got a girlfriend. You don’t want me to be happy unless it is with you!”
“That’s not true.”
Isn’t it?
“Why, then? Tell me why you hate Eden so much!”
“I don’t.”
“Don’t lie to me, Augustus!”
I ran a trembling hand over my face, swallowing back my honesty in the hope that I could repair this situation before I worsened it. The last thing I wanted was to lose Ava. I would rather be forgotten accidentally than abandoned on purpose.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You’re not a bad friend. I’m just…disappointed.”
“I know,” Ava nodded, shoulders dropping. “And I’m sorry to have disappointed you. I didn’t mean to. I’m just…I love Eden.”
“I understand.”
Liar.
“Come on,” Ava said, wiping at her eyes, “We’re going to be late.”