On Top of the World

[[Martin's POV]]

"Wow, I still can't believe you did what you did," Paul said, for about the fortieth time today, shaking his head from his position in the chair next to me. I was lying in this stupid hospital bed, hooked up to a bunch of stupid machines for absolutely no reason. Other than the throbbing pain in my arm... my side... and my head, I felt fine.

"You're just jealous because I didn't kiss you like that," I smirked, receiving an odd glance from my friend.

"Psh, in your dreams, Martin. But still, what the fuck is going to happen now?"

I sighed. I actually had no idea what the answer to that was. I was the most popular guy in school and had my pick of any girl that I could possibly want. I was looked up to and adored by tons of kids in my school that didn't know the last thing about me except that I was kick ass at football. It was pathetic.

My world was completely turned upside down by a hot guy in skinny jeans, and I couldn't be more thankful. I had enough of this charade, this ridiculous game of popularity and having to act a certain way because it was either appropriate or because I 'had' to.

I was nothing special, I was a normal person just like everyone else. So, I answered my friend's question the only way I could think of.

"You know, Paul... I really have no clue as to what's going to happen... and that's a beautiful thing."

I leaned my head back against my pillow, snuggling myself into it, relaxing for the first time since I'd left Frank back at school. He was definitely worth all of this, considering all he had done for me. He gave me my strength to stand up for who I really was, and to say 'fuck you' to the people who didn't like it. I owed him everything for simply being himself.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY SON?!"

"Oh God," I muttered, cringing as I saw my over dramatic mother making a scene outside of my hospital room. I had been dreading this moment ever since I realized I'd be forced to stay overnight for observation, and here it was, slapping me in the face.

"Well I think I'm gonna split," Paul said, getting up from his chair, eyeing the door intently. He walked over to me and patted my shoulder, saying, "Good luck, you're gonna need it."

I nodded and rolled my eyes, high fiving him before he made his way toward the door, only to be nearly pushed out of the way by my psychotic mother. It wasn't that I was afraid to face her, I just knew what a drama queen she always was about the tiniest things.

I knew that once I broke the entire truth about what happened, she'll be sharing this currently empty hospital bed to the left of me because the news of her only son being a sprinkly covered cupcake would more than likely give her a heart attack. That or it'll kill her, you know, whichever.

"My baby!" she screamed, throwing herself on top of me. And so it begins...

"Hey ma," I said wearily, patting her back and mouthing 'HELP ME' to Paul, who was watching this big fiasco from the door. He shot me one last look that clearly told me that he pitied me, and was gone.

"Martin, my baaaby. What happened to you? Did you get hurt during practice? Where does it hurt? Aww, your lip! And your arm, oh no! It's broken, isn't it?"

I tuned her out, wishing desperately to be anywhere else but here. As she was asking me these millions of questions, she was also rubbing her hands all over my face and my hair, and I couldn't take it anymore.

"MOM! I am fine," I said rather harshly, making her jump quickly away from me. "I just got in a fight today at school, it's nothing."

"A fight, Martin? What the hell for?! You can't afford to get in a fight, you know what could happen, you could get kicked off the team-"

"The team?! Jesus, mom!" I yelled at her, cutting her off. "I am lying in a fucking hospital bed because I just got the shit kicked out of me and all you care about is me getting kicked off the fucking team?!"

I could tell that she was hurt by the look on her face, but I couldn't help it. I was furious, and she needed to hear the truth about everything. At this point, I figured hiding emotions and certain truths to protect feelings would be useless. There was absolutely no point in holding anything back, so I decided to lay every single one of my cards on the table for her.

"Martin... I don't appreciate you raising your voice to me. I am your mother, I only care about you, that's all," she said, holding her heart as she dramatically collapsed in the chair next to my bed. Suddenly, I regretted losing my cool and exploding on her the way that I did.

"Mom... I'm sorry, really. I didn't mean to shout at you. It's just, you mentioned 'the team' and 'the team' is actually the reason I'm in this mess..." I trailed off, deciding to shut my eyes at a feeble attempt to make the pain in my arm go away.

I heard her gasp, but my eyes were still closed so I couldn't see the look of surprise and shock on her face.

"Wh-why, baby? Was it during practice? Did someone knock into you the wrong way, was it a mistake?"

I opened my eyes and shot her a stupid look.

"No mom, it wasn't during practice at all. Something happened today that a few of the guys didn't like, so they decided to do something about it and teach me a lesson," I said, sighing deeply at the end. I didn't miss the worried look that was etched across her face, either.

She also took a deep breath, and must have finally realized that the approach she had been taking with me wasn't working at all. She half-smiled, and rubbed my hair again, gently this time with the warm, motherly smile that I so desperately needed to see since she walked through that door.

"Tell me what happened, sweetie," she said, taking my right hand in hers. She had no choice but to grab that one, my left was in a sling, and later tonight or tomorrow it would more than likely be in a cast, depending how bad the damage to it was.

"Okay, I'll tell you - but you can't get angry. I am telling you this because you're my mother, and I love you," I said, giving her a stern look that made her eyes begin to water.

"I don't know if I can promise that..." she whimpered, swallowing hard before she nodded. "But you're my son, and God, I love you too. So please... just tell me the truth, and we'll deal with this together, okay?"

I took a deep breath, hoping like hell that she meant the words she just spilled from her lips.

"Okay... well, for starters, I'm not necessarily who you think I am," I started, watching her facial expression soften.

"Of course you are, sweetie! You're my Martin, my star quarterback and everyone loves you. How is that not who you are?"

I stared in disbelief at my mother, is that all she really saw when she looked at me?

"Even you, my own mother, have no idea who I really am," I said, shaking my head. "Yes, I am the quarterback, well, I was-"

"WAS?! What do you mean, was?" She cut me off, glaring angrily at me.

"See, I knew you were going to get mad. The truth is, I like someone, mom. And the guys on the team beat the shit out of me because they saw me kissing-"

"Oh, is it that pretty head cheerleader? What was her name, um-"

"MOTHER! This has nothing to do with any of the cheerleaders, or any girl for that matter!"

She looked defeated with that one, her eyes were troubled as she tried to figure out how a girl couldn't possibly squeeze into the equation.

"I like someone mom, and it isn't a girl."

She began to laugh, then stopped when she saw the serious expression on my face. She took a deep breath, and let go of my hand. A good five minutes or so passed, not one of us looking at each other or saying one single word. I had my head sunk so far in my pillow, I thought it was going to swallow me whole, while she was staring up at the ceiling, lost in space.

"Thank goodness your father isn't here.."

I lifted my head up and glared at her. She was sticking her foot even further in her mouth with each word that spewed from her lips.

"Get out of my room," I muttered, allowing my head to fall back on my pillow, closing my eyes as I did so. "Just go, I don't want you here anymore."

"Well I don't want you to throw your life away because you're going through some stupid phase. Who was it, it was Paul, wasn't it? That's why he was here and left as soon as I got here-"

"NO, ma, it isn't Paul. He's just my friend, perhaps the onlyfriend I ever really had before," I said, earning a rather smug look from my mother.

"That's nonsense. Martin, everyone loves you. This is something new for you, attraction is always new and exciting but I'm telling you, it will pass. Just give it some time, everything will go back to normal-"

"I don't want it to go back to normal! Mom, this is me, this is who I always have been. It's always been right in front of my face, I just didn't see it until now," I explained, looking straight at her, but from the look on her face she wanted further explanation than that.

"Elaborate, please," she muttered, a not-so-patient look crowding across her tired face.

I thought for a second, gathering every thought that has been swimming through my head since the best kiss I've ever had. It took literally two seconds after I'd wrangled all of this up in my head to realize that yes, I have had one foot out of the closet for a long time, I just needed an extra hand to help pull me all the way out. Once that happened, once Frank did that for me... it all made sense. So, the million dollar question was, how do I put that into words so my mother could understand...?

"Well...okay," I began, sitting up so she could have my full attention. "The way I wear my clothes one size too tight or wear as little eye makeup as possible even though I want to wear more. The way every girl I've ever been with just never felt right? It's there mom, it always has been. When Frank kissed me today-"

"Ah, Frank. So, he has a name. It's... nice," she said, smiling a little, which made me so ecstatic, I was practically beaming.

"He's very nice, mom. He's so different from anyone I've ever met, I really like him," I said, smiling brightly, obviously beaming. Gosh, I am such a girl...

"So I'm confused, what happened exactly? I just want to make sure I'm not missing something important," she inquired, trying to make sense of everything that was just laid out for her within the past twenty or so minutes that she'd been in here. I'd probably be pretty lost as well if I was her, considering I have the attention span of a goldfish.

"Okay, so. Yesterday was the day I met Frank. He's this amazing guy, mom, he's so cute, he isn't afraid to express himself and that's what I first noticed about him," I began, figuring I should start at the very beginning to make everything click well together for her.

She nodded, urging me to continue. "How so?"

"Well... he wears eyeliner and tighter jeans than I do, and he wears band tees! Just like me, and he wasn't like... afraid to," I began, smiling a bit more as I continued on with my story. "See, I got away with my eyeliner and my skinnies because you know, once the team realized they needed me, they quit picking on me, but they continued to pick on anyone that bothered to dress like that, so everyone pretty much stopped just because they were afraid of what would happen if they did. Frank showed up yesterday as this punk rock kid, and well... I did something I wasn't so proud of..."

My mom raised her eyebrow at me, giving me a funny look. "Oh? What did you do, Martin?"

"Well, Ryan and Jason were on their way to go torment him, they didn't like the way that he dressed so... they were going to teach him a lesson. I volunteered to go with them, just to make sure they didn't hurt him, but they made me do it instead!"

She was now shaking her head and giving me a very disappointed look. "Oh, Martin... why? That isn't you, you aren't a bully. Why would you do something you didn't want to do?"

"You don't understand, mom... it's very hard being on that team. A lot of stuff goes on that people don't know about, mainly because people don't talk about it," I began, instantly regretting the words once they slipped off my tongue. I knew she was going to want me to elaborate more, and I just didn't have the strength for that right now. I didn't want to scar her mind with the awful methods some of the members of the football team did to 'scare' people out of behaving a certain way.

"Don't you remember when I would come home with bruises and black eyes? That wasn't from practice, mom... the beatings only stopped because Adam broke his arm last year and they needed me to fill in for him. Once they found out that I was actually good and we started winning, I threatened to quit unless they let up on me..."

"Honey... why didn't you say anything to me? I would have called the coach, or the principal-"

"Mom, it wouldn't have mattered. The fact is, the beatings stopped, but just for me. Some of the guys can be very persuasive if they don't approve of something, they attempt to beat it out of you and if that doesn't work, they take more drastic measures to make sure they get their point across. I'm sure they are going to try to make me or Frank pay dearly for what we did, but guess what. I like him, and I'm not afraid of it, and I'm not going to back down and shy away from my feelings for him simply because they don't want me to like boys. I'm not afraid of them anymore..."

I covered my face with my hand, attempting to block out all previous images of my teammates ganging up on me the way they did earlier.

"I have a headache..."

Just as those words spilled from my mouth, I heard a sniffle. My eyes immediately shot open and looked over towards my mother, who had tears streaming down her cheeks as she sobbed uncontrollably into her handkerchief.

"Oh baby... I'm so sorry," she said, getting up from her seat to hug me. "I wish you'd have told me sooner. I love you, I would have done something..."

I closed my eyes and hugged her back the best I could, getting lost in the scent of her perfume and hairspray. She continued to ramble on about random things, but I wasn't listening. I was simply enjoying this moment between she and I that was very long overdue.

"I love you, mom. I'm so sorry I yelled at you the way I did earlier, I just-"

"Nonsense. I deserved it," she said, rubbing her palm across my cheek that had previously been swollen. "And I accept you, baby, for who you are and I respect you for having the courage to stand up for it. Don't you ever let that go, okay?"

She kissed my forehead as she said that last part, and smiled at me. I was still in shock; I can't believe this conversation actually went as well as it did. It was much easier than I thought it was going to be. Instead of the big, awful picture I had playing in my head, the end result was actually quite liberating and refreshing. I should have known to have a little more faith in her than I did.

"Thanks mom," I replied. Once that realization hit me, I was finally able to relax. I was now snuggled very comfortably against my pillow.

"Okay well, listen. I just got off of work and ran straight here when they called and told me that there was an accident with you," she said, gathering up her purse and jacket from the floor where she'd previously thrown them during her big dramatic entrance.

"I'm going to go find your doctor and have a chat with him. You know, to see what we need to do to get you out of here as quick as possible. Then I'm going to go home for awhile and get changed and relax a bit, then I'll be right back here, okay?"

I nodded, then groaned out loudly as I suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot through my arm from out of nowhere. I began clutching it tightly, but that only made it worse. My mom began to panic, scrambling around to find the button to call a nurse in here, eventually giving up and running out into the hallway to get someone that way instead.

Within seconds two different nurses came rushing in, followed by my mother. I loved how pushy she was sometimes, it really helped out when it was the most important.

"What is it, Mr. Johnson? Is it your arm?" the blonde nurse asked, scanning over my chart while the red-headed nurse fiddled with the IV that was attached to the vein in my hand. I nodded and squirmed a bit, my face scrunching up because the feeling was rather uncomfortable.

"We'll get you some painkillers. I'll get the doctor in right away to come and check on you," the blonde said, signalling for the other nurse to follow behind her on her way out.

"Okay, maybe I should stay here-"

"No, mom. Go home and relax," I replied, shooting her a smile. "It's just my arm, I promise I'll be fine."

"Okay..." she agreed, rather reluctantly but her smile quickly returned. "Do you need me to get you anything?"

"Um, yeah, my pants are somewhere, I think they're in that closet thing," I said, pointing at the closet in the corner of the room. "Grab me my phone and my Ipod, please."

I shot her an incredibly cheesy smile, hoping to be as charming as possible so that she would get them for me. She retrieved my two favorite devices and tossed them at me, before she walked over to me and gave me another kiss on the cheek, right before she left my room.

"Ahh," I sighed out, attempting to work my Ipod with one hand. It wasn't as hard as I thought it was gonna be. By the time the red-headed nurse came back to bring me my pills, I'd already stuck both headphones in my ears and put on some New Found Glory. I paused it, and gave her a smile as she began to speak.

"The doctor had an emergency, so he won't be in for another hour or so. Why don't you try to get some sleep? Just let the medicine kick in, and you'll be out in no time," she said with a smile. I nodded and muttered a 'thank you', leaning my head back, feeling a sudden wave of relief wash over me. I also felt very tired all of a sudden, and realized that sleep sounded like the perfect medicine for me at that particular time, so I closed my eyes and hoped for that peaceful bliss to overtake my body.

No sooner than the second I felt myself get completely comfortable, I felt the vibration of my phone fluttering in the hospital blanket somewhere along my right side. I almost ignored it, until I realized I'd given Frank my number. I snatched it up quickly, in hopes that it would be him. I flipped my crappy black Razr phone open and smiled when I read the text message.

"Hey its Frank. Just wanted to know how ur feeling... call me or txt me back if you want.."

I flipped my phone shut, toying with it for a second before I quickly opened it back up, and pressed the send button.

One ring... two rings...

"He-hello?"

I smiled when I heard his voice, and smiled even broader when I noticed that he picked up only on the second ring. How cute...

"Um, hey, Frankie? It's Martin..."