I Lied When I Said I Didn't Love You
Memories Part 2
Flashback-When Mike Was 15
Billie sat with his back to the wall, rage wafting off him in merciless waves, drowning the room in a river of hate. His head was down, his shoulders tensed, hackles raised like a dog that would bite the next person who dared to kick him. He’d had enough.
You had to pity the next person to cross him, you really did.
“Those fucking dicks,” he muttered angrily, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. “I’m going to fucking kick their stupid bastard heads in.”
I stood in front of him, nervously nursing a swollen lip, dried blood under my nostrils and in the corners of my mouth.
“Please don’t, Billie,” I pleaded desperately. “Please. It’s not worth it. They aren’t worth it!”
I had just got out of one fight. I didn’t want to end up in another.
They had attacked me, you see. Four big jocks ambushed me on my way to maths, fists flying as they laughed cruelly. I hadn’t done anything but be there, but I still got hurt. I was lucky that time. It could’ve been a lot worse, if Billie hadn’t seen. He jumped in, no question, telling them to back off. They had just sniggered at him, calling him a little faggot before laying into him as well.
But he managed to fight them off long enough to drag me in here, handing me a compress of a wet wad of paper towels before slumping to the ground, trying to get his breath back. I knew he had almost had a panic attack right there, in the hall. He had been just as scared as I was, but was trying to hide it with an unbreakable wall of fury.
The tale of one of the supposedly gay boy getting stabbed by a gang of guys was still fresh in our minds.
“They shouldn’t have jumped on you like that. Fucking cowards. I’ll give them a fucking fight if they want it so damn badly-“
“I don’t want another fight. I want to just get on with my life,” I said quietly, sighing as I saw my pale figure in the dirty, cracked mirrors.
Obviously vandals had never heard of seven year’s bad luck.
“You don’t understand, Mike. You need to fight back; otherwise they’ll just keep beating you. You can’t be-“
“Oh, can’t be what? A weak little fag?” I replied sarcastically, scrubbing at the dried blood. “Too late for that, Billie.”
“Don’t say that! You are not weak, okay?” Billie sighed, stepping up behind me and resting his chin on my shoulder. I snorted, swearing as my lip throbbed painfully when I touched it.
“So I’m just a little fag, am I?”
“Yeah, but that’s different. You’re my little fag.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m taller then you!”
“Does that automatically make me the damsel in distress? Ooo, ooo, Mike, you big handsome fuck, save me!” he called out in a high falsetto voice, clapping his hands to his chest in a mock gesture of fear. I rolled my eyes.
“Cut it out, you idiot. I’m going to be late for my next class,” I said, cleaning the worst of the blood off my face. It was Billie’s turn to roll his eyes now.
“God, why do you have to always be such a studious ass? I’m beginning to suspect you actually want to graduate and all!”
“Maybe I actually do.”
“Why?” Billie asked, swinging his legs up and sitting on the counter in front of me.
“I don’t know. It’s good for the future, I guess.”
“But this isn’t the future, is it? This is now!”
“And?”
“Come on, Mike. Just ditch this class and go out with me,” Billie whispered, grabbing me by the collar of my t-shirt and drawing my face closer to his. “I promise I won’t do anything… bad.”
I shook him away, not in the mood for playing his silly games.
“No, Billie. I have to go to this class. Mr Batt is still on my case for the last time I skipped. Plus, I promised Dan I would help him out today.”
Billie scowled at me and his good mood suddenly vanished. He slid off the counter, pacing around the bathroom.
“Oh, sure. Always too busy for ME now, I see!” he said bitterly, his voice rising slightly. I should’ve taken this as a warning sign, but I thought he was still screwing around.
“Is someone jealous?” I teased him, pretending to push him back.
Big mistake. Suddenly Billie whirled around, pinning me against the wall. His green eyes flashed dangerously, the corners of his lips curled down.
“Why? Should I be jealous? Should I? You and Dan have something going on, don’t you? That’s why you never do anything with me anymore! You’re not going to maths- you’re going to see HIM DON’T LIE!” he screamed in my face, his grip around my arms tightening. I struggled to break his hold, aware that he would do anything in this state, including hit me.
Billie didn’t get these paranoia attacks often, but when he did, he could go from screaming hysterics to cold cruelty in the space of five seconds. I had lost count of the times he had hurt me in this state, not on purpose, of course. He just couldn’t control what he said or did in this state.
I felt a stinging slap hit my cheek, my teeth gritted together.
“Answer me! Answer ME! You are doing something, aren’t you! You are! You ARE! Don’t lie!” Billie babbled hysterically, tears running down his cheeks as he stared into my eyes. I tried not to blink, looking down into those deep pools of green until I thought I would drown.
Suddenly he collapsed into me, his shoulders heaving with great, choking sobs. I held him up as he cried, his fists hammering on my back like a five-year-olds protesting blows.
“Sh, Billie. It’s okay. I’m here. Nothing is going on, okay?” I told him, fighting to keep my voice calm and soothing. He scared the living shit out of me when he got like this. But I was the only one who could wind him down, so I had to grin and bear it.
“Liar,” Billie sniffled into my shoulder, clutching at my t-shirt like a baby monkey. “Liar, liar, liar. Go on, leave me, see your precious Dan.”
“I’m not lying. I would never leave you, I promise. You are everything to me,” I whispered into the top of his head, kissing it gently. Billie suddenly stiffened, looking up at me, the tears gone.
“You are mine, okay? No one else has you but me!” he said sharply, his hand digging into my waist.
“Okay,” I said quickly. He had changed again. This part was when he usually did the most damage. It was best to just agree with what he said and shut up.
“No, that’s not good enough,” Billie growled, undoing my belt and using it to pull me closer to him. “Say it. Say you are mine.”
“I am yours. Only yours,” I said faithfully, not letting my true panic show through.
Surely he wouldn’t want to do that here- not in this place!
My heart sank as he kissed me fiercely, possessive in every aspect. His tongue forced my lips open, dominating as he forced me backwards, pressing me up against the counter. I winced, as his nails bit into the soft flesh of my sides, gripping me like iron. He kept pulling me closer until I could feel him pressing into my thigh, lust driving him insane. Suddenly his mouth broke away from mine as he panted for breath.
“In the cubical,” he ordered, pushing me back. “Now!”
He backed me into the only cubical, locking the door behind him. His hand reached down his jeans, as he leant against the wall, a soft moan escaping his lips as he pleasured himself.
I sat down on the toilet seat, trying to ignore Billie’s actions.
We couldn’t do this here! If anyone caught us- as well as being expelled (Billie didn’t care about that), everyone would know that the rumours about us were true. I shivered as I remembered the fight earlier, the loathing in their eyes. They wouldn’t hesitate to beat us up again, leaving us for dead as our blood ran in rivers over the ground. The haunting images of the stabbed boy ran in loops in front of my eyes, how there was no assembly held for him, even though he was dying.
Billie grabbed me by the shoulders, shoving me up against the wall as he bit my lips until they bled. His hands pulled urgently at my jeans, sliding the belt away and dropping it on the floor. I groaned as his hand slid down the inside of my thigh, teasing me as well as him. I grabbed his face, caught up in the moment as I kissed him passionately.
Fuck it.
Fuck it all.
Suddenly we heard the bathroom door creak open, the sound of menacing footsteps on the plastic floor. We halted in our frenzy, not daring to breathe, as the footsteps got closer to the cubical.
This was it. We were found out. My fears had not only been rational, they had been correct.
Billie’s hands still clutched at the waistband of my jeans, frozen in sudden fear. He quickly let go, stepping backwards as the door opened, the lock broken and faulty as always.
Mr Marda looked in on us, an eyebrow raised as he took in Billie and I. I subtly lifted my leg, placing my foot on the toilet seat, trying to hide the fact Billie had got me excited.
“I heard complaints from some students of moaning and screaming coming from this bathroom,” Mr Marda said calmly, an amused smile on his lips. “You boys haven’t been, ahem, doing anything in here, right?”
“No, Sir, not at all. We were just- um- talking,” Billie said quickly, shooting me a panicked look.
“I see. You were trying to ditch class.”
“Um, yes, Sir, that’s exactly what was going on,” I lied.
Better to get in trouble for something we didn’t do instead of something we actually were doing.
“Well, I’ll let you off this time. Just quickly get yourselves to your next class,” Mr Marda said, turning to leave. “Oh, and one more thing. Mr Armstrong, you might want to run home and go take a cold shower. And Mr Pritchard, I would appreciate it if you did up your pants and got your belt off the floor and put it back around your waist.”
He walked out quietly, seeming like he was chuckling to himself as he went away. Billie and I both blushed, quickly straightening ourselves up. Billie looked down at the front of his pants in dismay.
“Shit. Mike, you just go to class, okay? I need to take care of this.”
I rushed outside, ignoring the stares of the small crowd of students standing outside the bathroom door.
That was close.
Much too close.
Billie sat with his back to the wall, rage wafting off him in merciless waves, drowning the room in a river of hate. His head was down, his shoulders tensed, hackles raised like a dog that would bite the next person who dared to kick him. He’d had enough.
You had to pity the next person to cross him, you really did.
“Those fucking dicks,” he muttered angrily, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. “I’m going to fucking kick their stupid bastard heads in.”
I stood in front of him, nervously nursing a swollen lip, dried blood under my nostrils and in the corners of my mouth.
“Please don’t, Billie,” I pleaded desperately. “Please. It’s not worth it. They aren’t worth it!”
I had just got out of one fight. I didn’t want to end up in another.
They had attacked me, you see. Four big jocks ambushed me on my way to maths, fists flying as they laughed cruelly. I hadn’t done anything but be there, but I still got hurt. I was lucky that time. It could’ve been a lot worse, if Billie hadn’t seen. He jumped in, no question, telling them to back off. They had just sniggered at him, calling him a little faggot before laying into him as well.
But he managed to fight them off long enough to drag me in here, handing me a compress of a wet wad of paper towels before slumping to the ground, trying to get his breath back. I knew he had almost had a panic attack right there, in the hall. He had been just as scared as I was, but was trying to hide it with an unbreakable wall of fury.
The tale of one of the supposedly gay boy getting stabbed by a gang of guys was still fresh in our minds.
“They shouldn’t have jumped on you like that. Fucking cowards. I’ll give them a fucking fight if they want it so damn badly-“
“I don’t want another fight. I want to just get on with my life,” I said quietly, sighing as I saw my pale figure in the dirty, cracked mirrors.
Obviously vandals had never heard of seven year’s bad luck.
“You don’t understand, Mike. You need to fight back; otherwise they’ll just keep beating you. You can’t be-“
“Oh, can’t be what? A weak little fag?” I replied sarcastically, scrubbing at the dried blood. “Too late for that, Billie.”
“Don’t say that! You are not weak, okay?” Billie sighed, stepping up behind me and resting his chin on my shoulder. I snorted, swearing as my lip throbbed painfully when I touched it.
“So I’m just a little fag, am I?”
“Yeah, but that’s different. You’re my little fag.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m taller then you!”
“Does that automatically make me the damsel in distress? Ooo, ooo, Mike, you big handsome fuck, save me!” he called out in a high falsetto voice, clapping his hands to his chest in a mock gesture of fear. I rolled my eyes.
“Cut it out, you idiot. I’m going to be late for my next class,” I said, cleaning the worst of the blood off my face. It was Billie’s turn to roll his eyes now.
“God, why do you have to always be such a studious ass? I’m beginning to suspect you actually want to graduate and all!”
“Maybe I actually do.”
“Why?” Billie asked, swinging his legs up and sitting on the counter in front of me.
“I don’t know. It’s good for the future, I guess.”
“But this isn’t the future, is it? This is now!”
“And?”
“Come on, Mike. Just ditch this class and go out with me,” Billie whispered, grabbing me by the collar of my t-shirt and drawing my face closer to his. “I promise I won’t do anything… bad.”
I shook him away, not in the mood for playing his silly games.
“No, Billie. I have to go to this class. Mr Batt is still on my case for the last time I skipped. Plus, I promised Dan I would help him out today.”
Billie scowled at me and his good mood suddenly vanished. He slid off the counter, pacing around the bathroom.
“Oh, sure. Always too busy for ME now, I see!” he said bitterly, his voice rising slightly. I should’ve taken this as a warning sign, but I thought he was still screwing around.
“Is someone jealous?” I teased him, pretending to push him back.
Big mistake. Suddenly Billie whirled around, pinning me against the wall. His green eyes flashed dangerously, the corners of his lips curled down.
“Why? Should I be jealous? Should I? You and Dan have something going on, don’t you? That’s why you never do anything with me anymore! You’re not going to maths- you’re going to see HIM DON’T LIE!” he screamed in my face, his grip around my arms tightening. I struggled to break his hold, aware that he would do anything in this state, including hit me.
Billie didn’t get these paranoia attacks often, but when he did, he could go from screaming hysterics to cold cruelty in the space of five seconds. I had lost count of the times he had hurt me in this state, not on purpose, of course. He just couldn’t control what he said or did in this state.
I felt a stinging slap hit my cheek, my teeth gritted together.
“Answer me! Answer ME! You are doing something, aren’t you! You are! You ARE! Don’t lie!” Billie babbled hysterically, tears running down his cheeks as he stared into my eyes. I tried not to blink, looking down into those deep pools of green until I thought I would drown.
Suddenly he collapsed into me, his shoulders heaving with great, choking sobs. I held him up as he cried, his fists hammering on my back like a five-year-olds protesting blows.
“Sh, Billie. It’s okay. I’m here. Nothing is going on, okay?” I told him, fighting to keep my voice calm and soothing. He scared the living shit out of me when he got like this. But I was the only one who could wind him down, so I had to grin and bear it.
“Liar,” Billie sniffled into my shoulder, clutching at my t-shirt like a baby monkey. “Liar, liar, liar. Go on, leave me, see your precious Dan.”
“I’m not lying. I would never leave you, I promise. You are everything to me,” I whispered into the top of his head, kissing it gently. Billie suddenly stiffened, looking up at me, the tears gone.
“You are mine, okay? No one else has you but me!” he said sharply, his hand digging into my waist.
“Okay,” I said quickly. He had changed again. This part was when he usually did the most damage. It was best to just agree with what he said and shut up.
“No, that’s not good enough,” Billie growled, undoing my belt and using it to pull me closer to him. “Say it. Say you are mine.”
“I am yours. Only yours,” I said faithfully, not letting my true panic show through.
Surely he wouldn’t want to do that here- not in this place!
My heart sank as he kissed me fiercely, possessive in every aspect. His tongue forced my lips open, dominating as he forced me backwards, pressing me up against the counter. I winced, as his nails bit into the soft flesh of my sides, gripping me like iron. He kept pulling me closer until I could feel him pressing into my thigh, lust driving him insane. Suddenly his mouth broke away from mine as he panted for breath.
“In the cubical,” he ordered, pushing me back. “Now!”
He backed me into the only cubical, locking the door behind him. His hand reached down his jeans, as he leant against the wall, a soft moan escaping his lips as he pleasured himself.
I sat down on the toilet seat, trying to ignore Billie’s actions.
We couldn’t do this here! If anyone caught us- as well as being expelled (Billie didn’t care about that), everyone would know that the rumours about us were true. I shivered as I remembered the fight earlier, the loathing in their eyes. They wouldn’t hesitate to beat us up again, leaving us for dead as our blood ran in rivers over the ground. The haunting images of the stabbed boy ran in loops in front of my eyes, how there was no assembly held for him, even though he was dying.
Billie grabbed me by the shoulders, shoving me up against the wall as he bit my lips until they bled. His hands pulled urgently at my jeans, sliding the belt away and dropping it on the floor. I groaned as his hand slid down the inside of my thigh, teasing me as well as him. I grabbed his face, caught up in the moment as I kissed him passionately.
Fuck it.
Fuck it all.
Suddenly we heard the bathroom door creak open, the sound of menacing footsteps on the plastic floor. We halted in our frenzy, not daring to breathe, as the footsteps got closer to the cubical.
This was it. We were found out. My fears had not only been rational, they had been correct.
Billie’s hands still clutched at the waistband of my jeans, frozen in sudden fear. He quickly let go, stepping backwards as the door opened, the lock broken and faulty as always.
Mr Marda looked in on us, an eyebrow raised as he took in Billie and I. I subtly lifted my leg, placing my foot on the toilet seat, trying to hide the fact Billie had got me excited.
“I heard complaints from some students of moaning and screaming coming from this bathroom,” Mr Marda said calmly, an amused smile on his lips. “You boys haven’t been, ahem, doing anything in here, right?”
“No, Sir, not at all. We were just- um- talking,” Billie said quickly, shooting me a panicked look.
“I see. You were trying to ditch class.”
“Um, yes, Sir, that’s exactly what was going on,” I lied.
Better to get in trouble for something we didn’t do instead of something we actually were doing.
“Well, I’ll let you off this time. Just quickly get yourselves to your next class,” Mr Marda said, turning to leave. “Oh, and one more thing. Mr Armstrong, you might want to run home and go take a cold shower. And Mr Pritchard, I would appreciate it if you did up your pants and got your belt off the floor and put it back around your waist.”
He walked out quietly, seeming like he was chuckling to himself as he went away. Billie and I both blushed, quickly straightening ourselves up. Billie looked down at the front of his pants in dismay.
“Shit. Mike, you just go to class, okay? I need to take care of this.”
I rushed outside, ignoring the stares of the small crowd of students standing outside the bathroom door.
That was close.
Much too close.