7. Kieran
KIERAN
Istare at the note in my hand, rereading it for probably the tenth time since I found it in my locker.
Kieran,
Hey! I hung out by your locker for a bit since I don’t have your number, but must’ve missed you. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while, but have always been a little intimidated by how confident you are.
I broke up with my boyfriend recently, and figured now's the time to try to work on my own confidence.
I’d hoped this would be more casual in person but I’m planning to ditch the pep rally because I’ve always hated sitting through those things. I usually hang out in the big equipment shed behind the away bleachers (they never lock it) and was wondering if you’d want to join?
Hope to see you there.
XO Danny
I know of Danny; we’ve had a couple of classes together throughout the years, but we’ve never really talked.
I did hear he was dating someone from the neighboring town, though.
People love to gossip, especially because, like me, he’s one of the few students who are out at our school.
At least, that I know of. It’s not like there’s a school club for the LGBT kids or anything.
My eyes keep catching on the XO in his note.
Does he want to date me now that he’s single? He wrote he wanted to be more confident, but he’s the one with experience.
God, I would love to kiss someone. I don’t even really want a relationship—despite what Liv said about getting boyfriends—but I’m sick of feeling like the only person left at this school who still hasn’t had their first kiss.
The pep rally is in the football stadium after my next class.
It’s supposed to be in the gym, but it’s an unseasonably warm day so they announced yesterday we’d be moving to the field.
I don’t particularly have any desire to sit through it, and it should be easy enough to slip away from the crowds behind the away bleachers as the rest of the school files into the stadium.
If anyone does say anything, I’ll claim I’m looking for a bathroom or something.
Even if Danny just wants to ditch together and isn’t interested in anything more than friendship, I could definitely use more of those too.
He might think I’m “confident,” but most of the time, I feel like I’m barely holding it together.
That false self-assurance is the armor I barely keep in place but need to get through a day of school.
Olivia and I have been best friends for so long, and until recently, that friendship has felt like all I really needed.
But as much as I’ve tried to ignore it, things have been changing between us for a while now.
She joined the yearbook club and has been hanging out with the other girls from that more and more.
I didn’t think she cared about who was popular, but now all she wants to do is gossip about who’s dating who and what popular guys have talked to her or added her as a friend on Facebook.
Maybe I should join a club. Make some more friends too. Is there an art club? I know my art teacher has asked if I’d be interested in helping paint the sets for the musical in the spring, but I don’t think that lasts more than a couple of weeks.
Whatever. I can worry about that later. Maybe I’ll have a new friend by the end of the day.
When it’s time to head to the pep rally, I ditch my backpack at my locker on the way out of the school.
I know it’s silly, but I can’t calm the nervous fluttering in my stomach as I approach the stadium.
I really doubt we would just start making out when we’ve never even talked, but it still feels like this could be an important moment, the start of something more.
Teachers are in the parking lot we cross to get to the field, and there are more at the gate.
No one is paying any attention to me as I make like I’m heading to the bathrooms, but I continue to walk past them behind the away bleachers toward the equipment shed.
The door is ajar, and the light is already on as I push it open further to slip inside.
“Danny?” I call out quietly, looking around.
The shed is pretty big, and it feels much more spacious than my parents’ two-car garage, even if it is full of football and marching band equipment.
Walking in further, I peer around a row of what look like punching bags, but I think they’re the things the football team practices tackling on.
“Danny?” I try again a little louder. Maybe I beat him here?
The lights cut out suddenly and the door slams. My stomach drops.
Fuck. I am such an idiot.
I spin around to face the direction I just came in, and the light from the gap under the door is just enough of a guide to find my way back to it. I try to push it back open, but nothing. Fuuuck.
I shove my shoulder into it, attempting to force the flimsy door to move, but it’s no use. It won’t budge. I try a few more times, and nothing.
“Ha ha. Very funny. Open the door,” I demand, pretty sure I know who’s on the other side and that he’s waiting for a reaction.
“Are you going to stop wearing makeup?” Jace asks. “Finally ready to blend in and stop taunting me with your girly shit?”
“Taunting you? Jace, wearing makeup has literally nothing to do with you. It never has.”
“That didn’t sound like a yes.” His sidekick, David, snickers.
“It sounds like you need some time in there to think about your answer,” Jace adds, and they both laugh. But the sound seems to grow quieter too quickly.
“Jace?” I yell, wanting to stop them from walking away. “Wait! Are you seriously going to leave me in here?” I bang my fist on the door. “Jace!”
There’s no answer. I try to make as much noise as I can, not caring about who finds me at this point as long as I get out of this shed.
The shadows the equipment cast in the already dark space stretch ominously, playing tricks on my vision as I try to calm my racing heart. I can’t find the light switch, and at this point, does it even matter?
I’m alone. Nothing is moving. Deep breaths, and this will be over soon.
The sounds of the pep rally starting don’t quite manage to drown out the pounding in my ears.
I know any chance of someone hearing me is gone as the noise of the marching band starting to play combines with the already loud cheers of the students.
I’m stuck here; locked in the equipment shed.
I slide down to the floor, shutting my eyes and leaning my head back against the door as I take a moment to scold myself for letting this happen.
I should have been more careful. I knew the uniform swap wouldn’t be the last thing Jace did to try to bully me into blending in more.
It’s not like my makeup is even extreme.
I’ve kept it nearly as minimal as day one, but Jace can’t let it go.
I should have questioned the note, should have tried to talk to Danny in person before blindly walking into this creepy shed.
I wonder if Danny even broke up with his boyfriend.
Did he help Jace and David set me up? Ugh.
I was so excited about the possibility of being friends with another gay guy at school.
Of maybe doing more. I’m assuming he wasn’t actually involved…
but what if he was? How many people know I’m trapped in here right now?
The thought of everyone out there whispering about me, laughing, is mortifying.
But it still isn’t enough for me to want to give into Jace’s demands, especially because they don’t make any sense.
My decision to wear makeup or clothes he wouldn’t wear should have no effect on him.
He’s the one who chooses to get so pissed off at me for no reason.
For fucks sake, I’m wearing black jeans and a hoodie today.
I’m not even dressed any differently from the rest of the school.
At this point, after how much shit he’s given me, even if I had a desire to stop wearing those things, I don’t think I’d want to.
Especially now. Fuck him.
Expressing myself definitely didn’t start off as a way to spite Jace—it was fully for me—but he’s the one who’s turned it into that very thing. I like who I am. And he doesn’t get to bully me into changing.
I take another deep breath in, and as I exhale, something settles inside me.
I can’t stop Jace from harassing me, but I can control how I let it affect me.
I’m allowed to be angry and annoyed, and yeah, I’m also definitely embarrassed, but if I let him see any of those things, it will only feel like he’s winning.
The best thing I can do now is act like none of it bothers me.
Luckily the pep rally doesn’t last too long. When the structured cheers shift to the murmurs of a crowd, I stand back up and resume banging on the door as I shout. “Can anyone hear me? Hello, I need some help!”
It isn’t long before the football coach is unlocking the door, dragging a podium and a microphone behind him, probably to put back in here.
“What the hell are you doing locked in here?” he demands, looking around, no doubt for something to help my situation make more sense.
I shrug, not wanting to get in trouble for ditching, or give Jace the satisfaction of knowing how bothered I was by ratting him out. “One of the teachers asked me to check if they’d turned the light off in here, but when I came in, it must have locked behind me.”
“Which teacher? It’s a physical lock, someone locked you in here,” he tells me like I don’t already know that.
But I shrug again. “Bad timing. They must not have known I was inside.”
He looks at me skeptically, but I’m sure he doesn’t want to deal with the process of reporting he found a student locked in his equipment shed anymore than I do. Finally, he shakes his head. “Well, I’m sorry that happened, kid. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I assure him, flashing what I hope looks like a normal smile. “Thanks for letting me out.” Then I slip past him. I’d rather not give him time to change his mind.