Page 35 of Gabe

“The scholarship probably didn’t help, but it wasn’t the main problem. No, the main problem was the high school’s locker rooms.”

I moved on from gently rubbing his scar to giving him a full head massage. It seemed to calm him down, and he even moaned a little as he continued his story.

“The other boys weren’t happy about having to shower and change around me. Most of them just avoided me, but there was this one guy. I’m not going to name him, because he doesn’t deserve that recognition, so let’s just call him dick-waffle, because I’ve always liked that insult.”

It was certainly a descriptive insult. I could already picture the kind of person Frankie was describing.

Frankie’s eyes were closed, and he looked serene as he enjoyed the head massage. The image was such a contrast to what he was saying that it gave me vertigo as I listened to him.

“Dick-waffle would not leave me alone. All through high school he was constantly harassing me, especially in the locker rooms when I couldn’t get away from him so easily. Calling me a slut. Accusing me of creeping on the other boys when they were changing. Constantly demanding to know how many guys I’d fucked. I once tried to explain that I was still a virgin at the time, but that was a mistake. It only encouraged him.”

The more I heard, the more I hated where this story was going. Considering it ended with Frankie getting injured, I already knew I wouldn’t like it, but this was worse than I expected.

“That’s sexual harassment. Why didn’t any of the adults stop it?”

Frankie opened his eyes just enough to raise an incredulous brow at me. “You grew up privileged didn’t you? The teachers and staff at the kind of school I went to did not get paid enough to care. And my parents... well, I wasn’t being physically harmed, my grades were still good, and I earned the scholarship they wanted. As far as they were concerned, I just needed to endure it and not rock the boat.”

For the first time, I was glad for the sling on my arm. It hid the shaking of my fist. The hand on Frankie’s head stayed gentle, but the other hand clenched so tightly in anger that the tips of my fingers were going numb.

Yet, Frankie continued like there was nothing unusual about what he said. “I managed to do what they wanted until the end of my senior year. I was so close to being done. My bags were already packed for college, but I just couldn’t take it anymore. He started up his usual harassment in the locker room and I turned it back on him. I got flirty, and pointed out that his obsession with my sex life obviously meant that he wanted to sleep with me.”

He laughed again, but I didn’t find anything funny.

“Looking back on it now, I probably hit the nail on the head. Internalized homophobia is a bitch. Well, later that day, dick-waffle caught me alone when I was heading home and...” Frankie turned his head, so it pressed against my good shoulder. “He was on the baseball team and he had one hell of a swing.”

I couldn’t help it. I removed my hand from Frankie’s head to instead cup his face and force him to look at me. “He attacked you with a baseball bat just because you flirted with him?”

“Yep,” Frankie smiled, even as unshed tears gathered in his eyes. “Cracked my head clean open and left me lying on the pavement.”

His words were so upbeat they sounded manic.

“My parents kept me on a tight schedule, so they noticed right away when I didn’t come home. It was a good thing they found me so quickly or I would have died. One of the benefits of overprotective parents. My motor functions were really screwed up for a while, and because of that, I lost my scholarship. But I didn’t actually like track, anyway, so it was fine. My parents basically gave up on me, but in exchange, I got a really awesome physical therapist. She was a saint and helped me through a really hard time. I even became a physical therapist because of her, so you could say that dick-waffle actually did me a favor.”

He was rambling and laughing at the same time as tears dripped from his eyes. I didn’t know how to make him stop crying or calm him down, so I did the only thing I could think of.

I kissed him.

It was only meant to be a brief exchange, just enough to stop him from spiraling, but once we started, I couldn’t seem to stop.

Just a moment ago I had been thankful for the sling, but now I hated it. With only one functioning arm, I could pull him closer, but I couldn’t cradle the back of his head at the same time, as I so desperately wanted.

After a few moments locked together, Frankie seemed to come to his senses and pulled away. He didn’t leave the embrace of my arm, but he put distance between his mouth and mine.

“What are you doing?”

I couldn’t stop staring at his lips, wet with my saliva, but I forced myself to look him in the eye. “What? You can kiss me when I’m not well, but I can’t do the same?”

Those lips parted in a tiny breathless gasp as Frankie gaped at me. “You remember that?”

I just nodded and watched as a bright flush illuminated his dark skin.

He slapped my uninjured shoulder.

“You didn’t say anything about it, so I thought you forgot.”

“No. I just didn’t know what it meant.”

Dark eyes glanced down at the lack of space between us and the arm I still had wrapped around him. “So, what does this mean now?”

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