24. Benji #2
“Maybe I said that in the beginning, but I was wrong and I regret it.” I glared at Gordy, though the words were meant just as much for Sam’s ears. “Sam’s a good guy. The best guy.”
Gordy tilted his head toward him, almost curious. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” I said. “Now, could you also start being nice to him?”
“Sure, man. I didn’t know it was that serious.” His sly grin returned. He stepped in, as if to slide past me toward Sam, and tapped my shoulder. “Just be careful not to catch the gay.”
For a moment, the room froze. He might’ve meant that as a joke, but it wasn’t—not to me. This was my life, Sam’s life, nothing to make fun of. Heat rushed through me, and before I knew it, I moved.
My hand shot out, clamping Gordy’s wrist. I wrenched it down and twisted, driving him to the ground.
A sharp whimper instantly escaped him as his body thudded against the floorboards.
Adrenaline roared in my ears. I straddled him, raised my right fist, ready to punch.
His grin was finally gone, his eyes locked on my fist, all the cockiness stripped away, and finally replaced by fear.
“Don’t,” Sam shouted behind me, grabbing my wrist. “Please.”
I tore free, my fist still hovering over Gordy. “So what? Do you hate gays? Is that it?”
“Fuck, this hurts, man,” Gordy hissed, his face clenched with pain.
“Answer me!” My voice cracked with fury. “Do you hate gay people?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in love with him.”
“So what if I was ?” I tightened my fist, pulling my arm back for more momentum. “What if I were gay, too? Would you hate me then as well?”
Gordy’s eyes went wide. His mouth fell open, his head sank back toward the floor. “Are you?”
I twisted his arm harder, forcing a reply.
“No, man,” he said. “I’m sorry.” His eyes darted to Sam, seeking help. “I’m sorry, Samuel. I don’t care. You can love who you want to.” His gaze snapped back to me, panicked. “Honest.”
We locked eyes. I continued twisting his arm as if his response weren't enough. I didn’t even know what else I wanted from him.
This was exactly what I feared from everyone who saw us. It was everything that was wrong with this place. Red Creek always forced me to set an example so people would finally mind their own business. And I was so tired of?—
“Please, I’m sorry,” Gordy whimpered, snapping me out of it. His eyes squeezed shut, a tear sliding down his chin. “But please, don’t break my arm.”
“Benji,” Sam called, stepping in, trying to pry my fist away.
What was I doing?
Sam stared at me, holding my fist to keep me from punching my best friend. My heart hammered harder than it ever did when I knew I was in the right.
I was right about Gordy, wasn’t I? He provoked it. He said those words… didn’t he?
I looked at him. His face was crumpled, his eyes wet as he lay sprawled on the floor. He had to know that he had crossed a line, or… was it me who had crossed it?
My mouth went dry. I tried to swallow, and the little saliva I still had stuck in my throat.
This time, fists wouldn’t fix this. Words probably wouldn’t, either.
I shoved Gordy back to the floor and let his arm go.
“What do you know about love anyway?” I tore my arm free from Sam, got up, straightened my shirt, and walked.
Out. Back into the barn. Laughter, chatting, music—all of it drowned in my heartbeat.
The smell of a barbecue hit me and turned my stomach.
I headed for the door. Fast, but not running. I couldn’t draw any attention to myself.
My feet carried me through the main gate into the yard, straight toward my car.
I patted my pockets out of habit, but they were empty.
My keys were in the locker. Fuck. I couldn’t run, even if I wanted to.
Where would I even go? I couldn’t leave Sam.
He’d come here with me. If I left, he’d be stuck. No, leaving wasn’t an option.
There was only one other thing I could do.
I stared at my hands. Flexed them to fists.
Opened them again. There was only one person who deserved to have the shit beaten out of him.
I stiffened my palms and slapped both of my cheeks at once.
A sharp sting shot through my head and neck, but not my whole body.
I slapped myself again. And again. It still didn’t cut all the way, not giving me that final release.
I had to keep going. I deserved this, not cuddling up with Sam, not after what I’d done and tried to suppress.
I wasn’t a good person, no matter how much I tried to justify my behavior, no matter how often Sam told me otherwise.
I was selfish. Wanting to be with him was selfish because it made me neglect everyone else.
I barely spend time with my Mom anymore.
It was true that I’d ignored Gordy to be with Sam.
Voices announced someone behind me. I glanced back and spotted Brandon and Jin stepping out for a smoke.
Unable to face anyone, I rushed around the barn to the one next to it that was primarily used for storage, slipped inside, and shoved the door behind me until it banged shut.
Stacks of hay walled the place in, leaving it so dark that you could barely make out anything.
The dry air felt like the change I needed. This was the place to be.
I slapped my face again. The sting sharpened, but still didn’t bite deep enough.
I clenched my fist and drove on into the hay, but my energy fizzled out into nothing.
I swung again. Again. Again. It was useless.
The hay was too soft. I was panting, accomplishing nothing, but I kept going because the tension had to bleed out somewhere.
I punched and punched, each swing bringing up another thought I wanted to knock flat.
And still it changed nothing. Most of this town would never accept Sam and me.
Fuck, my best friend didn’t even. Maybe it was really better for Sam to go.
He deserved a place where he belonged, where people saw how incredible he was.
If only I could go with him.
Sometime later—who even gives a crap how long—my back pressed into the hay. My upper body barely held up, propped on my bent legs. The stalks pricked my skin through my shirt like a thousand tiny needles, a pain sharp enough to make me forget everything else.
Someone shuffled around outside, but I couldn’t have cared less—until the barn door slammed open and a silhouette appeared in it.
Gordy paused in the frame, glanced at the yard, lifted his arm in a quick signal, then turned to me.
He stepped inside, and with him a gust of warm summer wind that stirred up the dry air.
“There you are,” he said, his voice a little too loud. He closed the door behind him, careful not to make any harsh noise, and came close. He kept three feet distance, his hands digging into his overalls.
“I don’t want to talk,” I said, burying my face between my arms, too tired for my usual defensive glare.
“Look, man, I don’t know what happened?—”
“I said— I don’t want to talk.”
“Well, you don’t have to,” Gordy yelled, matching my tone. He dropped onto the ground and leaned into the hay to match my posture, but winced the second he touched it. “Ouch. How can you sit like this?”
The ache in my back kept me afloat somehow. That’s why I didn’t care. To my surprise, Gordy didn’t scoot away. He stayed as if he wanted to share the pain.
“Nope, this freaking hurts too much,” he said after a beat, leaning forward. “Yeah, better?—”
“What do you want?” I asked, my voice tired. “Shouldn’t you report that incident to your dad, so he can fire me?”
“Benji, you just ran away after almost beating me to a pulp. You never run. And you sure as hell never blow up at me like this. Believe it or not, I was worried.” He crossed his legs and scooted forward an inch. “I feel like I messed up big time.”
“No worries, the one who messed up was me,” I scoffed.
He let that sink in for a beat, kneading his hands, then finally asked, careful now, “Benji... You and Samuel, there’s actually something going on, right? That wasn’t just something you said to teach me a lesson, was it?”
“So what if?”
“Nothing if.” He breathed out hard and slapped his palms against his knees as if he needed to psych himself up.
“It’s okay if you… like him like that. I’m cool with that.
Honest. I was so upset because... I was a little jealous.
I pretended not to notice, but it was so obvious you two were hanging out.
When I called you and you told me you were taking him to the county fair, I thought you were mocking me, that you’d swapped me for him.
And that hurt hard, man. But now that I know.
..” He patted me on the shoulder, offering a forgiving smile.
“I mean, I would’ve abandoned you, too, if I had that with someone. ”
“So, you don’t care that Sam’s a guy?”
“He and I probably never will be best friends. But we are, aren’t we? You’re still Benji.”
“Thanks, man.” I managed a tired smile. It felt good to hear that, even though it didn’t change anything about how screwed my life was.
“I’m sorry for stirring things up,” Gordy added. “I’d never have done that if you had told me.” He wrapped his hand around my shoulder and squeezed it.
“I’m sorry, too,“ I said, long overdue. “For, like, everything. I’ve really been a crappy friend.”
“Apology accepted. Water under the bridge.”
“That easily?”
“Yeah. It’s not like I wasn’t being an ass, too. That confrontation was totally intentional.”
I laughed at the confirmation that I hadn’t misread the situation earlier, but the lightness was short-lived—I had hurt him, and I couldn’t just ignore that.
“How’s your arm?” I asked.
“Normal.” He lifted it, inspecting it like he couldn’t answer otherwise, opening and closing his hand to prove everything was still working. “Although you really scared me back there.”
“I did, didn’t I? You even cried.”
“Did not.”
I could’ve said something back, but I didn’t. He flashed me a smile, and knowing that my best friend was still on my side was all that counted.
“So… is this like a thing now? You and him?” he asked.
“Yeah, but also no.”
“That doesn’t make much sense.”
“He’s leaving, that’s why,” it burst out of me.
My fingers trembled. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything when Gordy and I had only just made up, but the weight on my shoulders was too much to carry alone any longer.
“Don’t tell your Dad, but he got into college.
And I have to stay and accept that the only person I ever loved will move so far away it just won’t be the same anymore. ”
“Well, that’s not good.”
“It’s really not.” I buried my face in my hands.
It felt like I had a noose around my neck that was slowly but surely closing.
“I don’t want him to go. But I can’t join him.
Someone has to take care of my mom. And.
.. shit.” I couldn’t hold back a short wave of tears. “Sorry,” I sobbed. “I’m pathetic.”
“You’re not,” Gordy said instantly. “That’s not how anybody would want this to go.” He scooted closer and, in an awkward way, tried to wrap his arms around me.
“What is that supposed to be?” I asked.
“Don’t hugs help or something?”
“Since when do you hug people?”
“Shut up and accept it, will you?”
I let him hold me, and… it did help. It wasn’t the same as Sam holding me—not as close, not as tight.
It was just some arms slung around my shoulders, a little sloppy but familiar, exactly how a hug from a best friend should feel.
I embraced it, letting myself sink into the comfort.
Not being alone was a small ray of hope, even if it didn't solve anything.