The Boy Who Looked Like a Girl

"You know, most people would just ditch school instead of showing up two hours late." Bam said. It was lunch and Ville was following him out to the quad where Raab and Dunn were already sitting.

"School's better than staying there." Ville said.

Bam sat down Indian style across from Raab and Dunn on the grass. Ville immediately sat down beside him. "Guys, this is Ville. Ville, these fuckers are Ryan Dunn and Raab, himself."

Ville laughed, trying to seem calm without meeting the eyes of either of the other boys.

"You're the guy who was talking about Satan in Lit class, right?" Raab asked, rolling his eyes when Bam glared at him.

"Yeah."

"You should've heard what they were saying about you at the church, man. Kelly, that stupid bitch you got into it with, was trying to figure out if it was possible you were the fucking anti-christ. Freaking hilarious."

Ville actually gave a real smile when the other two laughed. "There's really nothing better to do in this town than that?" he asked, half joking and half not.

"Drinking, smoking." Dunn said.

"Boarding and checking out chicks." Bam answered.

"Your mom." Raab said to Bam, laughing when his friend punched him in the arm.

Ville ran a hand through his hair, smiling to smile. It was too normal, the things they were saying. It was like he was normal, but he knew he was pretending. Pretending shadows didn't live in his room and there wasn't Scotch on his breath. Half the time he could be normal, but the other half he was the same scared kid he'd always been.

"I've got to have a fucking smoke before we have to go back in." Ville said. It wasn't quite an excuse, but it wasn't quite the truth either. "See you." he said, standing up and leaving without another word.

Bam turned and watched him go, a slight frown on his face.

"He's . . . different." Ryan said, making sure his choice of words wouldn't piss Bam off.

"I know." Bam said, turning his eyes back to his friends. "He's got problems." He played with his shoelaces for a moment. "But I like him. He was different yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Raab asked.

"Yeah. He wanted to go to the skatepark and watch me board and then we went to my house. He crashed there, but he left before I woke up." Bam left out the nightmare part. He knew if he were Ville he wouldn't want people who were basically strangers to know he'd been ready to cry the night before.

"He coming over today?" Ryan asked.

Bam shrugged. "I haven't asked him yet. Why? You not want him to?"

"I don't care. If he's going to hang out with you, he might as well. Maybe he'll get used to us."

Raab let out a low whistle as a girl next to them stretched her legs in her miniskirt, a welcome break to the somber mood. "You've got as much chance of grinding her as you've got of grinding that rail outside the factory." Bam told his friend, laughing.

"Guess I'll have to go back to your mom then."

"Lay off my mom, Raab."

"Take out the 'off' and you've got yourself a deal."

"Fucker."

* * *

"You coming over again?" Bam asked Ville as they walked into Mr. Spelding-just-call-me-Mark's room.

Ville shrugged as he sat down, knowing Bam was asking Ville if he wanted to hang out with him, as well as Raab and Ryan. "I don't know. Maybe."

"What's this people thing you've got?" Bam asked. "You hate everyone."

"I do not." Ville snapped. "I just don't believe in trusting everyone from the start. It just ends up fucking you over."

"Whatever." Bam muttered, opening up the skateboarding magazine he had brought into class.

Ville's green eyes grew dark, but he just turned around without saying another word. I don't like being this way, you dick. Ville gave a silent sigh as he opened up his notebook and start scribbling. He didn't want Bam to understand. He wanted Bam to accept it, but he didn't want him to understand it.

I wish I didn't understand it.

Mr. Spelding-just-call-me-Mark cleared his throat as he walked to the front of the room. He hesitated for a minute and Ville smirked. They hadn't finished their discussion yesterday on the origin of evil, but it was clear the teacher wasn't sure if they should.

"I'd like to deviate slightly from yesterday's topic. Today I'd like you to answer this question: are we inherently good or evil? That is, are we born good or evil? Or is it neither? First we'll go around the room and everyone will answer. If there's time, we'll have a discussion after."

It was no surprise that he started on the side of the room opposite Ville. He listened to people's answers with brief interest. The majority of them said people were inherently good. A handful said neither, that people learned to be both. Kelly, the girl Ville had argued with the day before, glanced at him before she answered.

"We're born good and we learn to sin because of the people who have already sinned. No one will be perfect. That's what God said."

Ville shook his head, not paying attention to another answer until it was Bam's turn to speak.

"I don't know." the blue-eyed teenager said honestly.

"What's your opinion, Bam? There's no right or wrong answer."

"My answer is that I don't know." Bam said seriously. Ville could feel those blue eyes staring at him. "And I don't care. It doesn't matter. We're all going to screw up anyway. No one's one or the other, so I don't care."

"Ville?" Mr. Spelding-just-call-me-Mark asked.

Ville knew everyone in the room was expecting him to say that people were inherently evil. Which is completely ridiculous if they would have actually thought about what I said yesterday. he thought.

"Both." Ville said. "Some people are born good and some are born evil."

"Which ones are which?" Kelly asked before the teacher could stop her.

"I don't know." Ville answered, looking at Bam out of the corner of his eye. "But you're only evil if you think you're not and you can't be good unless you think you're evil."

"That doesn't make sense." Kelly said.

"It's not supposed to." Ville said. "You can't put down the meaning of the human race into some stupid textbook." he added harshly. "It's not logical; it's life."

"Do you believe in God?"

"Kelly, that's not appropriate." Mr. Spelding-just-call-me-Mark said.

But Ville had already answered. "No."

"This discussion is over." the teacher said. "Get out a notebook and write me a one-page essay about the topic instead. And bring your books to class tomorrow."

Ville turned to Bam when the bell rang. "Hey, you still want me to come over?" he asked.

Bam grinned.

* * *

Ville was chainsmoking and drawing, watching Bam skate. Raab and Ryan were skateboarding as well, but Ville was watching the boy with the blue eyes. He was concentrating so hard on what he was doing, passion deep in his eyes. Ville didn't know you could feel that way about something like skateboarding.

They would take a break every fifteen minutes or so, to drink water and catch their breath. It was during their third break that Raab asked about Ville's drawings.

"How long you been doing that?" he asked, nodding at Ville's notebook.

"Since I was a kid." Ville answered, turning and looking at Bam's friend, squinting slightly from the sunlight. "I can write and I can draw and that's about the extent of my talents."

"Can I look at it?"

Hesitantly, Ville handed his notebook over. It was a cave with bats flying out, bats with teeth that could shred up the souls of even the most evil of men. There were grave stones around it with words scribbled in Finnish making a border around the scene. Eyes looked out from the cave, scavenging for souls that the bats could feed on.

"Damn." Raab said.

Bam looked over his shoulder, eyes widening. "Dude, that's really fucking good. No wonder you're taking so many art classes. You ever do art shows?" He handed the notebook to Ryan who seemed to be taking in the drawing more than the other two had.

Ville shook his head. "No. I don't like people telling me if it's good or bad. I get A's in art. That's good enough for me."

He was more relaxed now, but that could have been the 'happy pill' he took before he met Bam after school got out. Painkillers weren't happy pills for most people, but Ville seemed to have a high tolerance for alcohol and a low one for anything else drug-related. Excluding cigarettes, of course.

"You guys coming over for dinner?" Bam asked, glancing at his wristwatch. It was quarter to six.

"Can't." Raab said. "Mom wants me to watch Tiff while she and Dad try to keep from getting a divorce again." he rolled his eyes. "I better go. See you guys later."

"I'm in." Ryan said, after they all said good-bye to Raab.

"Ville? How about you?" Bam asked.

Two green eyes rimmed in kohl eyeliner looked up at him. Ville nodded, his hair falling in his eyes. He ran his painted fingers through it, before picking his cigarette box up off the grass.

* * *

Bam looked up from his computer when he heard the knock on his door. "Come in?" April Margera pushed the door open and shut it behind her. "Yeah?" Bam asked.

"I want to talk to you about Ville." April said.

"What about him?" Bam asked, slightly defensive.

"He's a really nice boy, Bam. But . . . he's kind of depressed, isn't he?" April was speaking lightly, but Bam knew that maternal tone in her voice.

"I don't know." Bam said. "He's got some problems, but he's been kicked out of a shitload of schools and his parents sent him to another freaking continent. I'd have problems too if that happened."

"Bam, he's so thin. And he's got those circles under his eyes like he never gets any sleep."

"That's eyeliner, Mom." Bam said, rolling his eyes. "And some people are just thin. He eats. You've seen him."

"I know." April sighed. "But I want you to be careful, Bam. If he tells you what's wrong and if it's bad, you can't keep it a secret."

"Mom, I'm not stupid." Bam snapped. "If he tells me he's going to blow his brains out, I'll tell. But some people just have problems. Half the people in school hate him. I don't need to get it from you, too."

"Bam, I don't hate him. I'm worried about him."

"Mom, you can't be everyone's parent, okay?"

April looked slightly hurt by that comment, but pushed it aside. "Bam, Ville's parents aren't here. He needs someone to keep an eye on him, whether it be me or whether it be you."

"He's living with the Taylors." Bam said. "Don't they count as 'parent figures'?"

April sighed. "One day you're going to appreciate me doing this, Bam."

Bam groaned. "Mom, I know you're trying to help. Just . . . don't do it so much, okay?"

April walked over to Bam and gave him a kiss on the top of his head. "Don't stay up too late. You have school tomorrow."

After she shut the door, Bam faceplanted onto the keyboard, wincing as he sat back up, rubbing his nose where the 'g' key had hit him.

It was ten. Ville had left at seven thirty. Bam had walked him to the end of the block. Ville looked almost afraid as he crossed the street, glancing back at Bam twice before he lit a cigarette. Bam could see the black nails shaking even from fifty feet away.

Standing up, Bam opened his door and walked out to the kitchen where his mom was putting away the dishes. She turned around after she shut the cupboard, thorougly shocked when her son hugged her. "Love you, Mom." he said quietly, before pulling away and walking back to his room.

For some unknown reason, Bam was suddenly thankful that at least his parents were here, no matter how annoying they were.

And the unknown reason was a green eyed boy, a boy who looked like a girl, a boy who's eyeliner was now smudged as he sat on the edge of his bed, fear in those dark orbs.

Taking his shirt off, unaware of the fear in his friend's eyes, Bam turned his light off and crawled into bed.

* * *

Please. Ville thought, nearly in tears. He glanced out the window, wondering what his parents were doing right now, wondering if his youngest sister had said her first word yet, wondering if Bam had gone to sleep yet, wondering if Ryan and Raab hated him.

And then he whispered a prayer to a god he didn't believe in, wondering what would happen if He actually existed.

Would He have made me look like a girl?