Losing Control

The weekend was a blur of sleep and homework. And thinking about Austin. No matter what I did, I couldn't seem to get him out of my head. Why was that? I mean, all he'd really said to me was that I could play in the next concert (which Dan still wouldn't shut up about). So why did it matter that much? Why did he matter so much, in particular? And why did my thoughts keep creeping back to the feel of his cheek under my fingertips?

That was all I could think about as I sat on the bus once again, slouched low in my seat in hopes that Maddie wouldn't see me (even though she'd already seen me getting onto the bus, purposefully ignoring me). I'd asked Dan if he could give me a ride, but he lived on the other side of the city. I wasn't about to push it, seeing as though Dan was basically my only friend.

Maybe it was my hair acting like a beacon of some sort, but as the bus rumbled through its route, Maddie made her way toward my seat. I sighed. Might as well get it over with. I shoved the anxiety back down my throat and turned toward her so that she wouldn't be able to tap my shoulder. She dropped into the seat opposite me. Smiled at me. Smiled. Wait, what?

"Hey, Alan," she said loudly.

The few sleepy conversations in the back of the bus paused, all of them now listening to us. They needed their daily gossip fix.

"Uh, hi," I said quietly, trying to get her to lower her voice. She didn't take the hint. If anything, her voice gained volume.

"Listen, I just wanted you to know that I forgive you for what happened Friday night."

Everyone was staring now. Please, I prayed silently. Please don't say it.

"I mean," she continued, a glint in her eyes. "You didn't have to kiss me. But you could've been nicer about it."

My face flushed, but Maddie wasn't done with me yet. She grinned, then delivered her final blow. "It's not my fault you're a queer."

Immediately, the bus filled with laughter, nobody even slightly ashamed that they were eavesdropping. But that was her goal, wasn't it? Deep, booming guffaws from the football players in the back mingled with the pre-pubescent snorts of those in the front.

All of them laughing at me.

Maddie raised her eyebrows, as if daring me to retaliate. But I was stunned into silence. Suffocating in embarrassment. My chest was tight. It was happening again. Everything. The jeers. The whispers. I knew they were coming. I knew what happened next. Just like last time, eh? New town, same people.

The second that the bus jerked to a stop in front of the school, I rushed off. Pushed my way to get inside before the rest of the bus. To get to the safety of class before the rumors started to fly.

I power-walked my way toward my locker. Why schools had no-running rules was beyond me. How else was prey supposed to avoid being eaten? Quick stop at my locker, then I was speeding over to Mr. Day's class. I was almost ten minutes early, but at least nobody talked to me in the hallway. The downside: Dan wasn't there yet.

I took my usual seat in the back, the other early-arrivers paying no attention to me. Then a mass of jocks and girls clad in tiny shorts came bustling in, and it was all over. They were laughing, no doubt at me. I wondered how many people already knew.

I remembered the old sneers, like ghosts refusing to go away. They settled on top of these new kids, their faces faces morphing together. All the same. Over and over. Except this time, Dean wasn't here with me. I was alone.

"Ughh," Dan dramatically flopped onto the seat beside mine. "Why must they crowd around the door? That gaggle of girls. That- that- bunch of boys."

I gave him a what-the-hell-have-you-been-smoking look, but he only raised his voice a notch. "Is this not a free classroom where one has the right to enter and exit as they please? You're infringing on my rights!"

"That's enough!" came Mr. Day's annoyed voice from the front of the room. Dan only smiled.

The group of kids that Dan had been ranting about scuttled to their seats as Mr. Day took his spot in the front of the room to start the day's lesson. Apparently, we were finally doing an actual lab instead of just taking notes. A lame lab, but it beat the writing cramps. I went over to the long counter to grab supplies for Dan and I. Wherever I looked, somebody seemed to be staring at me. They glanced away when they saw that I noticed.

I spread out the materials on the table; four 'mystery' substances, water, iodine solution, vinegar, and assorted beakers and containers. I slipped the mandatory plastic goggles over my head even though there was nothing remotely dangerous about the lab. Dan didn't even bother with them. We read over the instructions, their simplicity deeming the lab a sure waste of time. The idea was to use the scientific method to figure out what the four white powders on the table were. You were supposed to create chemical reactions to help with your reasoning. I could already see the pages of lab reports I was going to have to write that night.

Dan brushed his finger along the top of one of the substances, then put it in his mouth. He smacked his lips as he pulled his finger out. "Salt," he proclaimed.

I socked him in the arm. "Dude, you're not supposed to eat it!"

He just shrugged and wrote it down in his notebook. He saw Mr. Day glaring at him from his desk and waved at him. I swear nobody ever wanted to punch someone more than Mr. Day wanted to punch Dan in that moment.

Dan continued with his testing method. "Sugar," he said after tasting the next one.

Most of the class was watching him now, and to be honest, he was quite entertaining. I just didn't like the fact that people were using him as an excuse to gawk at me. I'm sure that I was blushing.

Dan spat the third powder out after tasting it only for a moment. "That's disgusting!"

The entire class laughed, and he made a mocking face at them. None of them got the idea that he really disliked them all.

"Alright, young man, that's enough!" Mr. Day stormed over to our table. "Down to the office. Now!"

Dan pursed his lips and gathered up his books. He shrugged at me, then made his way out of the classroom.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Ashby, but you're going to have to finish this lab by yourself."

I nodded, turning back to my work. Nonchalant on the outside. Screaming on the inside. The usual. Now that Dan was gone, I knew that every backward glance was aimed directly at me. I tried to focus on the two unknown powders. Maybe they'd react to the iodine solution. It was worth a shot, because I wasn't about to start tasting them.

I sucked it into an eyedropper, poising it above one of the samples. I let out a few drops, and the powder turned from white to a dark purplish color. I supposed that should tell me what it was, but I was clueless about science. I'd look it up later.

I went to empty the rest of the iodine solution back into the container when I heard a fit of giggles from the table in front of mine. A guy and a girl. When she saw me, she turned back to the lab. But the guy didn't turn away. Instead, he widened his stance toward me. "What're you lookin at, Ginger Princess?"

Chuckles all around the room. I could feel the nickname attaching itself to me, though I desperately didn't want it to. I managed a neutral face until everyone turned away. Bit down on my lip. Hard. My hands were shaking. I felt something drip onto my hand. And then...and then it was burning. My hand was on fire. I let out a gasp of pain, looking down at my flaming hand. I half-expected to see fire rising off of it. Pain. All over. Whatever it was was searing into my skin. My eyes were watering, and I had to clamp my mouth shut to keep from screaming.

I grabbed the sleeve of my discarded jacket to try and wipe it off. This fire burrowing into my skin. One quick swipe, and it was gone. Though the tendrils of pain still tingled, as though an afterthought. I shook out my hand, inspecting what was on the jacket sleeve. And...what the hell? It was iodine. My science knowledge wasn't exactly great, but I knew that iodine didn't burn people. Especially school iodine. I'd be surprised if it was even pure after all the safety improvements that the school had made.

I massaged my hand, then turned to look at it. Where the droplet had touched the skin, there was a raw burn. I sucked in my breath. That- that was not normal.

My thoughts were a tangled mess for the rest of the day. Wrestling with theories about what happened in science. Building walls around any emotions created by the now constant chanting of 'Ginger Princess' whenever I walked by. Calming nerves about Dan. Smothering down the longing to see Austin. By the time it was band class, my strong outward facade was crumbling from within.

My relief must've been obvious when I rounded the corner of the hallway where the music room was located. Finally. It was the end of the day, and was going to go see some people who didn't completely hate me. Also Austin.

But then another thought struck me. What if they'd heard the rumors? What if they knew? What if...what if they kicked me out? I could hear it now. "You're too gay for our band." I wouldn't be surprised.

My pace slowed, thoughts turning into lead weights dragging my feet down. The double-doors to the band room no longer seemed so inviting. Did I even want to go in? But...I had to. I couldn't cut class. I made my way to the doors, looking through the windows surrounding them to see all four members of Waging War setting up their instruments inside.

I took a step closer, willing myself to go in. They won't care. They'll be okay with it.

Even I knew that those were lies.

I considered my options. But I didn't even have a chance to sort them out before a hand grabbed my shoulder, shoving me into the wall of lockers behind me. My back slammed against the metal. Head snapped back.

Different locker. Push. Punch.

"Watch it, Ginger Princess."

"Watch it, fag."

Again. Not again.

Thoughts. Too many. Memories.

Laughing. Laughing. Always at me.

I closed my eyes, panic rising. Reliving the past again.

Slam. Slam. Two people.

I scrunched my eyes shut, sliding down the locker.

A memory. Different school. Different time. Different bully. Same reason.

They caught us. Me. Him. Together.

Dean. I said his name in my head. Maybe it came out of my trembling lips. I couldn't even tell what was real anymore.

His face filled the expanse of my mind. Messy brown hair. Chiseled jawline. Perfect lips, rough on mine. Hardened eyes. Those green eyes. So much love. So much pain. Always pain. His. Mine.

He talked about leaving every day. I should've listened. I should've known. I should've done something. I should've stopped him. I should've saved him. I should've... I should've...

Wetness tracked down my face. But where was I? Was I here or there? Then or now? Did it even matter?

My heart raced.

My thoughts rushed.

Pressure on my hand. I jumped. But it was only Dean's mom, squeezing my hand at the funeral. The funeral that was all my fault.

"Alan," she said. "Alan, are you okay?"

Not her voice. Austin's. And it was him looking down at me. "Alan."

His eyes, filled with concern. Not her eyes, rimmed in sadness. Remorse. And a hatred. For me. Because I killed him. We both knew it. Even if I didn't pull the trigger. It was all because of me that he did it. All because I was stupid enough to get us outed. He'd said he didn't care. Why did I believe him?

Someone shook my shoulders. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

I couldn't get the words out. I tried to look at his face. But all I could see was Dean.

I was shaking. I'd lost all control.

Too much inside. I wanted it out. I wanted to forget. I wanted it all to be over. I wanted to escape.

From this school. From these people. From my mind.

I was vaguely aware of a presence beside me. On the floor.

"Alan?"

I could hear the panic in his voice. Closer to my ear now. It reigned me back. Chased away the last echoes in my head. Dean's last kiss. Dean's last 'I love you'. Dean's last breath leaving his lungs. I needed to get it together. I needed to... I needed to...

I curled in closer on myself. Back to reality. At least, whatever passed as it. Back to Austin.

"A-Aus," I said weakly.

Austin breathed an audible sigh of relief. "I thought- what happened? You weren't talking. Freaked me out."

"It-it's just..." I couldn't form the words.

"Hey, it's okay, man."

I closed my eyes, tears leaking out. I leaned so that my head rested on Austin's shoulder. He shifted a bit, but didn't tell me to move. His shoulder rose and fell with his breaths. It was calming, like the ocean. I wanted to stay there forever. Not talking. Not explaining. Just sitting.

Austin reached for my hand. It shook a little as he took it. Calloused. Strong. Just like... But I didn't let myself think his name. Because Austin was here now. Because this was different, a totally new sensation. I lost myself in the feeling, though I was still unsure of the intent behind it.

He stroked his thumb across my hand, soothing me as I continued to cry. His finger wandered across my burn, and I tried to stifle my gasp of pain.

"What's this?" he murmured.

I remained silent.

He looked at me, his eyes layered with confusion and something else I couldn't quite name. He seemed to push his thought aside and refocused on me. "D'you...d'you need to go to the hospital or something?"

I shook my head quickly. "N-no. I'm fine."

Austin gave me a sad look. Filled with pity and...understanding? Maybe there was more to him than I'd thought. He still hadn't told me why he'd been crying the other night. Yet I knew that if I started asking questions, I'd have to answer some in return.

I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Class was almost over.

"Well, c'mon then," Austin pulled me to my feet.

I wiped off the tears drying on my face. I wanted to thank Austin. I wanted to tell him how much what he did meant to me. I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me. But I remained silent. Because silence was easier. Because silence made sense, unlike all of this.

Austin led me into the music room, where the rest of the band was already packing up. They offered sympathetic smiles. I tried to return them, but it only made me want to cry again. I felt Austin grab my hand. Squeeze it. He didn't even try to hide it. What did it mean? What did any of it mean? The other band members said nothing, but that was only because they knew Austin so well. What about when other people saw? And what, exactly, would they be seeing?

I didn't know if any of this was even real, or just a fictionalization in my head. Either way, it seemed eerily familiar. The cycle repeating, over and over. Never-ending. I could've stopped it. Stopped it from turning into anything else, from happening again. But I was determined that this time, I would get it right. I should've known that all stories ended the same.