19. Existing Apart

The year ends, as all things eventually do.

I took a deep breath and reached my locker. Alone in the hallway, I leaned my head against it in momentary release. I had spent the better part of homeroom period, lunch and study hall on a mission, storming around what felt like the entire school, asking questions and demanding answers as to the phantom photographer’s identity. Nothing in my life had ever made me feel so violated. Some disturbing freak had somehow stumbled into a room, found two people half-clothed and asleep and decided to take their picture. Now, because of that creep, my private moment was the world’s to see, and that was the perfect cap to this insane, emotionally traumatic rollercoaster of a school year. But of course, it wasn’t just the random creep’s fault, it was also spread around by the guy I once considered one of my two best friends. He had practically disappeared the way he strategically avoided me.

It was hard to imagine it would be like this. Or rather, it was hard to retrace our steps and put together how we got here. I guess that’s life for you, taking one unexpected turn after another, and even we got a taste of it, as young as we were. People think of young love as some beautiful, timeless blessing that enters our lives if we’re lucky enough, but standing there at my locker I couldn’t have held a more distant perception of it. I had entered this year with uncertainty, sure, but whatever life threw at me I still had my two best friends at my side for it, and I never doubted who I was. Now, because of the various ways this evil, scary thing they call ‘young love’ worked its way into our lives, neither of those two friends were by my side today, and the image of myself I had proved how fragile it was. And because of this demonic force looming over us, you and I were stuck together dealing with the mess we made of things.

“Hey, Richie.” Steve McLeary cautiously greeted as he approached.

“Hey, Steve,” I sighed. “What’s up.”

“I talked to the guys,” he replied. “Apparently Travis is getting in serious trouble and the schoolboard’s trying to find out who took the picture.”

I sighed. “It doesn’t even matter at this point.”

He looked away. “I know it doesn’t really involve me, but I’m sorry for what happened. I mean, how everything had to turn out.”

“Don’t sweat it, man. Sorry you got surrounded by all this drama.”
“I just wanted to say thanks.”

“Thanks?”
“For everything. Well, you know what I mean.”

“Steve, you don’t have to-”

“At the beginning I thought this year would suck. I mean, all of high school has so far. But then I met you guys and you all made it a lot different. You taught me so much, and now that the year’s over it’s gonna be weird going to school without you from now on. So just, you know… Thanks.”

I sighed, for a brief moment pushing all those dark thoughts away. “Don’t sweat it, kid.”
“Yo, Steve!” a voice in the distance called out. We turned to see a small group of guys waiting. The one in front called out again.

“We gotta go now to get ready for the party.”

He looked back at me anxiously.

“I gotta go,” he said. “See you around.”

And with that he was off. I thought for a moment about how the year had started and where it had ended up. Just then, I wondered if there weren’t some parts of the transition that were for the better. That notion was briefly comforting, but it didn’t make facing you any easier.

It didn’t quite feel like summer that day. The breeze that passed by felt like an ominous chill. It was eerily quiet out, but maybe that was just in my head. I stepped onto the empty field and there you were, your back to me as you faced the bleachers, your short hair gently flowing in the wind. Your head was hung low, and I couldn’t tell if you knew I was there.

“I’m sorry,” I spoke, as if it were all I could say.

You didn’t say anything, you just turned around slowly. Your face was frozen in a blank expression, your eyes drifting to the ground aimlessly. Lifelessly.

“Say something?” I urged without thinking about it.

You looked up at me, and suddenly those empty eyes were full of life, and full of pain. Looking through the lenses of your glasses felt like peering into another world. Then finally you spoke.

“What did you say to them?”

Your voice immediately broke down with those words, your blank face twisting into a sad, hurting wince. Rosy color flushed into your cheeks.

“What?” I asked, taken back completely.

“Those guys that took the picture,” you explained. “What did you say when you found them?”

I briefly flashed back to all the angry yelling I had done, trying to find sense in that crazed stream of words.

“I’m not sure it was even them. It doesn’t matter now.”

I took a step toward you, reaching out my hand to touch your shoulder. You drew your arm back, and distanced yourself from me. I was caught off guard, and that’s when your eyes started to water.

“Please,” I called out, the wind behind my voice starting to fade as well. “I already told you I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Of course you didn’t.” You sighed.

I desperately persisted. “Then why won’t you talk to me? Why can’t we just move on?”

You scoffed. “Move on? How could I possibly do that?”

You spoke with more anger and conviction than I’d ever heard in your voice before. The fact that it was directed at me stung deeply. I tried to collect my thoughts as cohesively as possible to reason with you.

“I know the picture is still out there but-”

“I don’t care about that damn picture!” you snapped. Your face was now bright red.

“Then what is it?”

“The fact that you care about the picture,” you answered coldly. “You just proved what I knew deep down and was trying to lie to myself about this whole time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The reason you disappeared when you found out what I was. The reason you didn’t tell any of your friends. The reason you didn’t talk to me at all until you bumped into me after the prom. Why you’ve never once called me by my new name. The reason you went around screaming and interrogating everyone over the picture of us. Sure you had no problem being in that bed with me, but God forbid anyone else saw us right? God forbid everyone at school knows you’re secretly with a tranny! That would just be the worst thing ever, right?”

Tears streamed down your face. Your voice was starting to shake uncontrollably.

“No,” I answered, my voice still breaking. “It’s not like that.”

“It clearly is.”

You sighed a deep breath, calming yourself as much as you could.

“I don’t know why I thought it would change,” you went on. “That night at the hotel, I thought you accepted me for what I am, but it turns out you were just pretending I wasn’t. And I was so lonely I just let you. You were denying it in your head until that picture made you face the reality, huh?”

“What are you saying?”

You wiped tears from your face with your sleeve, your body trembling. You looked me in the eye and spoke when you could.

“The thought of what I really am makes you uncomfortable. And that makes me miserable.”

You sobbed, clearly and suddenly. Then continued, no longer trying to stop yourself. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, just standing there watching you cry. You pulled yourself together long enough to calmly say,

“Maybe we had it right before. Maybe we don’t need to be in each other’s lives. All it does is make everything worse, right?”

My jaw shook, still not able to find the right words to give you. The drips on my cheeks brought me back to reality.

“Goodbye, Richie.”

And soon we were both gone. Gone from the empty football field, gone from that space in time, and gone from each other’s lives.

I couldn’t explain what happened that day if I tried, but now the two of us were supposed to go on, existing apart.