Verboten

The bell rang its usual sharp trill, signifying the end of the last lesson. The hallways suddenly transformed from the silent, empty passages into a crowd of noisy, shouting teenagers, their footsteps thundering as they all scrambled for their freedom.

Jack held his wooden door open, absent-mindedly stroking his thumb along the solid, round handle of brass. He smiled and returned his students’ farewells as they passed, waiting for the last of them to clear out before winging the door shut with a firm clap of noise and muffling the sounds outside.
Jack started to re-arrange the desks back into their usual formation; they had been moved as his last class had been working on group projects. He swore as he saw the scattered scraps of paper that decorated his carpeted floor, and at the number of scissors and glues still left out on the wooden surfaces.

“Are you okay?” came Alex’s voice.

Jack whirled around, taken by surprise, his hand still clutching his messy quiff in frustration. “Alex! Sorry, didn’t hear you come in.”

“It’s fine, sir.” Alex shrugged it off nonchalantly and dropped his bag by Jack’s desk hesitantly. “You sounded angry…?”

“Yeah, no big deal,” Jack said, puffing out a large break of air. “Year Sevens don’t know what the words ‘tidy up’ mean, judging by this.”

Alex laughed as he surveyed the scene in front of him. “I’ll help,” he offered, kneeling down on one knee to collect paper.

Jack, momentarily dazed by the sight of Alex bent over in tight jeans, replied, “Yeah, thanks.”

Together, the work was quickly done, and only five minutes had passed when they started to slot the desks back together. “That’s the last time I’m letting them do a group project,” Jack commented ruefully.

“What was it on?” Alex questioned, pushing a desk against the wall neatly.

“Henry VIII,” Jack replied, “and his six wives. I gave each of the groups a wife and they had to make a poster about her. They got a little too excited at the prospect of cutting and sticking, as you can
probably tell from his bomb-site.”

“I remember doing the Tudors,” Alex said conversationally. “We mostly did Elizabeth I, though.”

“We’re moving onto that soon,” Jack replied, chucking the last of the paper into the recycling bin.

“I wish I’d been at this school since Year Seven,” Alex said, with a slight hint of bitterness underlying his words.

Jack cleared his throat and began awkwardly, “Alex, Amy told me something…”

Alex tensed suddenly from where he was bending over to retrieve a pair of scissors. He straightened up and threw them into the plastic blue box. “Yeah?”

“She told me about how you were bullied at your last school…for being gay?” Jack bit his lower lip, worried how Alex would react.

The student sighed and clasped his hands behind his neck. “Yeah, I was…” he admitted.

Jack moved towards Alex slowly, touching his shoulder tentatively. “I don’t have any problem with homosexuality.”

Alex turned to face him, looking suddenly anxious. “I didn’t think you did, sorry if you thought that, I just-”

Jack cut off his babbling with a calm utterance of, “Alex, Alex, Alex.” When he stopped apologising and regarded his teacher with wary eyes, Jack sighed and continued, “You didn’t give off that impression at all, okay? That was the wrong way for me to say that – obviously, with your anxiety, you’re going to worry about offending people a lot. I just wanted to let you know, yeah? I’m always here to chat because, I mean, I went through the same thing when I was about your age.”

Alex started. “You’re…?” he started to ask, but trailed off uncertainly.

“Yeah, I’m gay,” Jack said, wondering why he was telling such a thing to his student. He knew he could trust Alex anyway. “And I was bullied for it, although from the tone of Amy’s voice, I don’t think mine was quite as bad as yours.”

Alex nodded, understanding the subtle invitation to talk and instinctively tugging at his teacher’s sleeve. Jack pulled out two chairs and sat down on one of them, letting Alex clutch his shirt for comfort.

“Keep breathing,” Jack told him, “in and out, deep breaths.”

Alex nodded again and exhaled before beginning to talk. “I realised I was gay in Year Seven, towards the end of it, which I guess is quite an early time to realise. I didn’t really have any friends before that anyway, but somehow the news got out in the last week of the school year. I’m still not sure how – I didn’t tell anyone but I guess someone saw me writing in my journal about it or something.”

“I used to have a journal,” Jack chipped in, stroking through Alex’s hair soothingly. “It really helped.”

“It did, yeah.” Alex took three deep breaths in and out to steady himself, and then continued. “I had the summer holidays to worry about it and when I got back, I thought people would have forgotten about it, but they hadn’t. It was really bad. It started off with them calling me stuff like ‘faggot’ or that I was a freak, and I…” Alex swallowed nervously and his breathing sped up a little.

“Alex, deep breaths, slow breaths, come on,” Jack said firmly, still running his hand through Alex’s soft hair. “That’s it,” he praised when Alex’s breathing went back to normal. “What were you going to say? I won’t judge you for it, whatever it is,” he added.

“I turned to self-harm,” Alex whispered, looking down at the floor and taking a shuddering breath.

“That’s…not very good, obviously,” Jack said, desperately trying to think of a way to make his student feel better. “But it doesn’t make you a bad person, and it definitely doesn’t make you a freak or anything. It’s not a label.”

“Thanks, sir,” Alex said, sounding grateful for the comfort. “They – the people bullying me – they found out about the cutting too, a couple of months after I started, and they started calling me an emo and stuff like that.

“I attempted suicide a few weeks after that, but it didn’t work, my parents found me and called an ambulance. I was put on a suicide watch and I was considered even more of a freak after it. I thought I was a failure for not being able to kill myself, and the cutting became worse and worse.”
“It’s okay,” Jack said quietly, sensing another panic attack coming on if he didn’t diffuse the situation. “You’re not a failure, you’re not a freak, you’re not anything like that. You’re just Alex, and Alex is a very good person, believe me.”

A tear dripped onto the floor from Alex’s downward-facing face, and Jack wrapped his arms around the boy instinctively. “Don’t cry, Alex, you have no reason to be ashamed of yourself.”

“I’m such a mess,” Alex sobbed, his body shaking. He collapsed into Jack’s arms and his tears fell thick and fast.

“You’re not a mess, Alex, trust me you’re not.” Jack was at a loss for words – he honestly didn’t know what to say. “You’ve made friends here, right?”

Alex nodded. “Y-yeah…Amy.”

“Have you talked to Amy about any of this?” Jack asked gently, resting his chin on Alex’s head.

“No, not yet, just the basics…she doesn’t know about the cutting or anything.” Alex’s tears were becoming slower and he wiped his face, inhaling deeply.

“Well done, that’s good, keep breathing like that,” Jack encouraged. “Now, I’m not going to force you to tell anyone, but Amy is an extremely trustworthy person and having a friend who knows will help a serious amount.”

Alex nodded silently, still attempting to control his tears. “Sorry, sir,” he said, in a slightly shaking voice, a few minutes later.

“It’s fine, honestly,” Jack said softly, rubbing his back comfortingly. “Is there anything else you want to get off your chest?”

Alex straightened up, still wrapped in Jack’s arm, and leant against his chest. Jack went back to stroking through his coppery hair. “Do you dye your hair?” Jack asked suddenly.

Alex laughed a little. Jack couldn’t help noticing how cute his laugh was. “Yeah, it’s naturally a kind of light brown colour, I dyed it so it had a red tinge but I’m thinking of letting it fade out.”

“I’d like to see your natural colour, give it a go,” Jack said, admiring Alex’s silky hair.

“Thanks, I think I will.” Alex sighed. “Thanks for listening sir, I don’t think there’s anything else I want to talk about.”

“Okay,” Jack agreed. “Can I ask you a couple of questions? Only answer if you’re comfortable with doing so, though.”

“Sure.”

“Where do you cut yourself?” At Alex’s inquisitive look, Jack shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

Alex cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. “Legs mainly, sometimes hips and stomach; I used to do it on my wrists but it’s too noticeable.”

“Okay, thanks for answering. The next thing is about something that might be a bit sensitive, or might not.”

“Right.” Alex’s brow furrowed as he glanced up at his teacher. “Go ahead.”

“You walk a long way to and from school every day, and I’ve never seen you eating lunch…you’re really skinny, Alex, and I have to ask for your well-being. How many calories do you get every day?”

Alex shrugged in a nonchalant manner, even though his body had tensed again. “I dunno, probably about a thousand or so.”

Jack sighed. “You’re a rubbish liar, Alex, and even if it was a thousand – which I doubt - it’s still not enough.”

“Just stay out of it, please, sir.”

“I can’t, Alex, I’m worrying that you have an eating disorder.”

Alex paused, and then his fists clenched. “I don’t, sir.” He stood up.

Jack mentally slapped himself. Way to go, Jack, nice and sensitive about it. “Alex-”

“I don’t feel very well,” Alex said abruptly. “Sorry, I think I have to go home.”

“Alex, I’m sorry for-”

“Doesn’t matter sir,” Alex replied curtly, grabbing his bag and swinging it onto his shoulder, slamming the door behind him as he left.

Jack groaned in annoyance and frustration, and began to shove his own stuff into the duffel bag he used for school, cursing his own stupidity constantly. He slammed the door behind him in much the same style as Alex had done and locked it aggressively, storming down the corridor and heading towards the car park.

****************************

Jack flopped onto his sofa and punched the cushion next to him. There was a whine and Jack glanced up to see his puppy watching him, his head cocked to one side. “Come on, Biscuit,” he called, patting the space next to him, his anger fading away when he saw his dog.

Biscuit jumped up eagerly and licked him on the nose twice, wagging his bushy tail enthusiastically. It was one thing that Jack loved so much about dogs, they were always so happy to see you at the end of a long day.

“What would I do without you, eh, Biscuit?” Jack mumbled, caressing his fluffy head as he settled down onto Jack’s lap.

Biscuit yawned and went to sleep, satisfied now that his owner was home. Jack smiled slightly and ran his hands over his face, wishing he’d handled the situation at school earlier better. Now that he was home, he knew exactly what he should have said, how he should have tackled what was going on.