Collin

Sharp pains shock me into consciousness and I groan into my bed, feeling a wave of impending nausea rising forward.  The world turns behind my closed eyelids, the dark seeming to spin in a vortex of nothingness before I stand hurriedly knowing that I’m going to throw up in a matter of seconds. I make it to the porcelain toilet just in the nick of time emptying out all the contents of my stomach, the acidic taste of vomit and bile gaging me. My body feels tired after the strain of my muscles and I just sit there leaning my forehead against the cold glass bowl waiting for the dizziness to subside.

For a brief moment I start to reprimand myself for drinking so much last night, but then I remember why I downed the bottle of vodka in the first place, and the pain and sorrow from the night before comes rushing back. My eyes well up with tears but I quickly push them back standing and making my way unsteadily into my bedroom to change.

Usually when I get up in the morning I take the time to asses my appearance, mull over my wardrobe choices and choose the most flattering shirt for the day, but I could care less about what shirt I’m going to wear right now so I hurriedly throw on a blue and red sweater and a pair of black denim jeans that hug my body. Then I push my feet into my black Vans and grab my car keys off my desk before running down the stairs, brushing my teeth and opening my fridge to grab a bottle of water.

Do I really want to risk going to school today? I think to myself as I grab some Tylenol throwing it into my mouth and washing it back with a gulp of cold, glorious water. The liquid runs down my sore throat soothingly and I let out a little sigh of relief praying that the medicine will do it’s job and appease the raw pain puling in my skull.

Honestly I have no choice, I’ve already missed more than a week due to my own idiocy, yes I admit that doing what I did to caleb was wrong. In fact I knew it was wrong when Jason came bugging me about it in the locker room I just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, also the fact that he suddenly seemed so friendly with Marcus pissed me off…not that it matters now. Marcus is nothing to me now, I pray to god that he stays away from me. I don’t know how I’ll react if he tries to come into contact with me.

Grabbing my bag of the floor I haul my way outside suddenly remembering that I forgot to do my math homework. Normally I would just ask Marcus for his at the beginning of the day and scribble it down quickly, just one more thing that I no longer can do, oh well I’ll just have to turn it in late. The drive to school seems shorter then I would like it to be, but I decide that I’ll refrain from going by the area where the lacrosse players usually hang out and instead I’ll hide away in the library for the morning until class starts that way I won’t have to see Marcus or anyone for that matter.

Things seem strange when I walk towards the front door of the school, there are students standing around the entrance, seeming to burst into laughter as I walk past them, I turn to stare at them in confusion but they just look away from me pretending that they don’t see me. Do I really look that bad? I mean sure I didn’t double check my wardrobe choice for the day but I don’t think I’m that fashionably challenged. Hesitantly I double take at my sweater the warm material hugging my naked torso snuggly, the nice v shaped neckline complimenting my collar bone. I know that seems weird but collar bones can be sexy, if you don’t believe me go look at a hot man’s collar bone right now and tell me that it’s not attractive. Deciding that it’s not my sweater I glance down at my black tight jeans….are they too tight? No not really, they look okay not to baggy, not skin tight just perfect…no stains, no marks. No nothing.

Curiously I look back at the people behind me then sigh before pushing my way into the school. As soon as I enter and begin walking down the hall cat calls start sounding out around me. The noise makes me flinch and I glance around in annoyance then jump as a boy passes me slapping me on the butt and saying, “Hey Collin how much does a quickie in the boys bathroom cost?” I whirl around in horror but before I can see who it was they are gone.

“Hey Collin, do you really sleep around with the boys on the lacrosse team?” A loud male voice yells from somewhere inside the crowd, I whirl around to detect where the snide comment came from but again, I can’t see who said it. People are beginning to stop in the hall to point and laugh at me, calling me a whore and a disgusting freak. The words bite into me and I inhale sharply holding back tears trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

Why are all these people saying these things about me?

Out of the crowd one of the players on the team, Nick, pushes through glancing at me in concern before stepping towards me, “Collin are you okay?” He questions.

“I will be when I figure out what the fuck is going on!” I growl in frustration, as students continue to laugh and point muttering to each other. Nick’s face scrunches into a look of uncertainty and he bites his lip, I can see thoughts whirling through his mind a mile per second, but he says nothing, “Nick what the hell?” I ask.

“Fine, me and some of the guys tried to pull some of them down…..but there are just to fucking many Collin….I’m sorry,” and with those words he holds up a piece of paper, pushing the sheet into my fist where it crackles. Quickly I hold the paper so I can see it.

My breathing stops in my throat, and I can’t even seem to choke.

What the hell is this?

Printed on the snowy white backdrop of the paper there is a photograph of me and Marcus. Marcus has his hand down my pants, but there is no question at what he’s doing, my hands are holding tightly onto his wrists and my head is thrown back in a look of complete and utter ecstasy, Marcus’s face is buried into the crook of my neck so you can’t see anything except for the tip of his ear and the hair on top of his head. Tears sting my eyes, and I crumble the paper into a wad throwing onto the ground.

“What the hell is that!” I scream in anger, turning to look around at the crowd, and for the first time my eyes start to see all of the white papers hung on the walls sporadicly, the shameful scene hung over and over again upon the clean walls of the hallway. Terrified, and humiliated I scramble to tear the pictures from the wall as quickly as I can, gripping harshly at the papers and throwing them to the floor. The laughs that break out behind me cause me to wince, and I feel like bursting into tears, I feel like killing myself, I feel like slitting my wrists and lying on the floor right there to bleed to death. Anything would be better than this, not only is it just humiliating for others to see me like this, but it reminds me of the betrayal that I went through the day before.

Then it occurs to me…who could have taken these pictures? The answer is there hovering in front of me but I don’t want to believe it. How could he, did he really think that badly of me that he would reveal me as some sort of prostitute to the whole school, someone to call when you just want to get off? Did all of the years of our friendship really mean nothing to him? Then I do start to cry but the tears come out full of anger, and mortification.

A loud voice stops the crowd, shushing them into silence. Mr. Morris my math teacher steps out of the crowd his face contorted with anger, “What in the name of god is going on here!” He shouts, then stops when he sees all the pictures.

“Nothing Mr. Morris,” Hailey Clare says impishly crossing her arms over her tiny breasts and staring down at me with hard, cold eyes. “We are just talking to Collin here, about how he seems to be whoring himself out to the lacrosse team, right Collin?” 

My eyes sting at the acquisition, Mr. Morris looks down at the floor grabbing one of the white papers. I close my eyes in embarrassment, turning my head towards the ground as he gives the paper a once over before looking back up at me his eyes soft and sympethtic, only making me want to cry more, “Collin…Is this true…..are you selling yourself like this?”

Letting out a sniffle I refuse to look up from the ground, staring hard at my shoes praying to god that somehow he’ll hear me, and send some psychotic murderer into the school to chop me up into tiny disgusting pieces.

“Collin?” He asks again, but still I say nothing.

“No sir it’s not true!” A voice answers in assurance, I immediately recognize the deep throaty sound, shutting my eyes tightly in disgrace as Marcus pushes his way through the crowd.

“Ah, Mr. Alexander since you seem to know something about this situation that I don’t please do me the pleasure of explaining.” Mr. Morris demands softly.

“Collin is not selling his body to the lacrosse team,” Marcus says with a nod, “As you can see, that is me in the photograph, I won’t deny that, and I won’t lie and tell you that it’s a photoshopped picture because it’s not.” There is a pause throughout the crowd as I turn to stare up at Marcus my eyes filled with unshed tears, he looks down at me, but I can’t read his expression. Finally he turns his face away from me and says, “Collin is my boyfriend.”

The rustles and sounds that are flying through the crowd stop abruptly, Mr. Morris pauses staring at Marcus before glancing down at the picture again. His eyes search the photo for a moment before he looks back up at Marcus with an awkward cough, his cheeks tinted in embarrassment, “Well that’s all fine and well boys, but please next time keep your….endeavors a little bit more private.” With that statement he turns to look at me. “Don’t worry Mr. Sanders the faculty will have the pictures removed immediately, I’m sorry about this.”

Too shocked to say anything I just nod, as teachers start to shuffle kids to class, since the bell rang a good five minutes ago. The students groan in frustration as they trudge their ways towards their classes sadly. What do I do? I turn straight for the doors leading back out of the school, there’s no way in hell I’m staying here with all these pictures on the walls. My feet pad quietly on the ground as I shove the doors open and stumble to my car, but a loud burst grabs my attention and then a voice screams,”Collin!”

Marcus….that fucker, how could he do this to me? What was he looking to gain by taking those pictures then lying and telling the whole school that we’re a couple, when clearly we couldn’t be farther away from the bar line. Ignoring his call I continue to walk out into the parking lot, not even pretending to act like I can’t hear him, instead I just move my feet as calmly as I can ,why waist the energy of running?

The sound of his sneakers pounding the floor as he runs towards me nearly has me bolting but I force myself to walk composed. A large, strong hand lands on my wrist spinning me around to face the older boy, “Dammit Collin I want to talk!” He huffs at me in exasperation.

“Well I don’t want to talk to you,” I glare up at him, letting him feel the full heat of my intense gaze, “Did you not understand that after yesterday?”

Marcus’s face falls into a look of apology, he stares at the floor and reaches up to brush the back of his head nervously, “Coll-

“And you know what?” I interrupt, “I can’t believe you’re so sick that you have to hire someone to take pictures of us, first it was the abuse now it’s this?” shaking my head I let out a disgusted laugh, “I never knew you could be this deceitful Marcus……fine you definitely earned it huh, you couldn’t stand following me around anymore could you, you think this brought you to the top, well great I hope it all works out fucking peachy!” with that I turn away and continue to walk back towards me car.

“You’re right I am sick of it.” He says behind me, stopping me in my tracks, angrily I turn to shoot daggers at him, but I stop when I see the look of complete confidence that is on his face. His head is held up high as he looks down at me with those electrifying blue eyes, and suddenly I feel small. Never before have I felt small in front of Marcus right now I couldn’t feel more insignificant compared to his bulky beauty. “I’m sick of talking to you, and you not listening I’m sick of doing everything you say when you won’t even take what I’m saying into consideration, and I’m sick of you always thinking that I’m that low of a friend that I would do something as horrible as putting pictures of you up in the school.” He finishes with a look of sadness on his face, “Who the hell do you think I am Collin?”

Shocked at the truthful words I stare at him, confused at his question but there’s no need for me to say anything because he answers me himself, “I’m your best friend Colllin!”

Tears sting my eyes, how can he say that after the shit he’s done in the past two days?  How can he say that with such a straight face? Do friends touch each other like he touched me in the locker room, if so I must be getting the wrong memo or something. “Is that what you told yourself when you shoved your hands down my pants?” I hiss fighting back tears.

Marcus sighs running a hand through his hair, “Listen that wasn’t supposed to happen, it was an accident-

“So now I’m a fucking accident huh?”

“Collin shut up!” he shouts at me in annoyance his features contorting into a look of complete frustration. “I’m sorry I did that to you I wasn’t thinking, if you want me to be honest I suppose it wasn’t an accident I was fully aware of what I was doing to you, but you wouldn’t understand why I did it, so for now we have to be boyfriends because I just defended you if front of the whole school, and if they find out that we aren’t boyfriends you will be the newest laughing stock do you hear me?” He pauses then lets out a long sigh, before turning his eyes towards me and gazing at me, he steps forward wrapping his arms around my shoulders comfortably. I stiffen in his strong arms, afraid but at the same time tempted to melt into him. He’s hugging me, just like he hugged Jason only better. “Do you see the kids in that school, staring at us right now?” He asks against my ear, I fight off a shiver then adjust so I can peer past his hulking shoulder towards the windows of classrooms where kids have their grubby noses pressed up against the glass of the windows. Silently I nod against his chest, seeing as how he is towering above me being at least a good six foot five, and me at my five foot ten. “Good, those people are waiting for us to prove that we are really dating.”

I stiffen then frown, “But we’re not, I wouldn’t date you in a million years you traitor.” I murmur angrily, Marcus chuckles deeply the sound sending thrills of shameful pleasure through me. I have always loved the sound of his laugh ever since we were younger, to me there has never been anything more perfect then that sound. Stop it Collin, this man is the man who through you under a bus that you never wanted to come into contact with again, he doesn’t have a voice that could make the straightest of men come, he doesn’t have a body that would make the gods jealous, his eyes aren’t deep pools that you could loose yourself in for hours. “That’s fine Collin, all you have to do is hug me back, and let me kiss you just once.”

Irritated, but simultaneously flustered I wrap my arms around Marcus’s waist holding him snuggly against me, his hand comes up to my face as he turns us into viewing distance of the windows. The gazes of all the students makes me squirm and I want to bolt, but Marcus holds me against him tilting my head up and staring down at me sadly for a brief moment before leaning down to press his lips against mine. The kiss is small and timid and it only lasts for a second before he pulls away taking my hand in his, before walking us back towards the doors of the school.

Through the glass windows I can hear girls shrieking at how “Cute” we are, and boys groaning in a mix of disgust and admiration for the balls that we have seemed to grow. What would all these people think if they knew that it was fake? The way Marcus looked at me when he went to kiss me, the way he wrapped me in his arms, and the way he pressed his hot soft lips against my own….all of it is fake, and despite the fact that Marcus did such horrible things to me in the locker room the day before, I find myself happy and relieved that even though I’m only with marcus to save my own ass from being kicked I can still stand next to him and feel that old familiar comfort.

God I’m pathetic.

Who would have thought that my big day, my big Out of the Closet moment would be like this? Some crude, filthy picture of me being touched in the boys locker room managing to find it’s way onto the walls of my high school in turn making me have to pretend that I’m in some sort of loving relationship with my fake-ex-best friend. I thought coming out of the closet was supposed to stop the lies, and stop the hiding, but here I am still lying and still hiding. The only thing that I can think of that is good about this is that I frankly don’t really care about my parents finding out that I’m gay. They aren’t exactly around anyways, and I doubt they would care even if I am. They would just say, “That’s great son, now get out of the doorway we have a plane to catch in fifteen minutes.”

Silently I sit through my first period listening silently as word travels from kids mouths talking about me and Marcus, some snotty girl says that she knew we had a thing going the whole entire year, and I almost laugh at her sheer idiocy. How could you have known, If I hadnt even known until today? Stupid girl.

Sixth period is just the same, I enter the classroom ignoring the soft sincere look that Mr. Morris gives me before I plop down in my seat throwing my head down into my arms. The class is loud and talkative, and I just let myself gradually lull into sleep, but a sudden silence that drops over my peers has me peeping up from my arms to see what caught their attention so abruptly. When I lift my head to check, a pair of electric blue eyes meet mine, and I quickly look back down into my arms. Ugh I completely forgot that I have this class with Marcus….and the next one to…shit.

The watchful eyes of my classmates practically drill holes through my sweater as they watch Marcus no doubt heading straight for me. My suspicions are proven correct when a back pack slams down onto the desk beside me, causing me to flinch but I still refuse from looking up from the dark oasis of my desk. “Collin.” Marcus says softly. Trying as hard as I can to ignore him I press my eyes shut, and despite the fact that I have never ever been a meditation geek I wonder if I can block out his deep provocative voice If I slip into the deep coma like dream state. Silently I attempt this but the sound of Marcus saying my name this time with a bit more force has me jerking my head up to glare at him. As soon as my head comes up he smiles and leans forward pressing his lips to my forehead saying, “Hey baby.”

Now, before I say this you have to understand that I, Collin Sanders am not often easily swayed by girlish pet names, or cute loving glances. But when Marcus Alexander says those words and pulls his warm lips away from my skin to reveal his caring electric blue eyes… I blush. Yes, I do the so unmanly gesture of blushing my ass off in front of the kids in my classroom, which of course puts a huge grin on Marcus’s face, this in turn sends a bolt of irritation through me. Pssh yeah you think your so great making me blush with your freaking pet name, well sorry sir but I’ll have you know that it takes a bit more then just a “Hey baby” to make me sway. “Hey” I grunt ungracefully, then mutter an “Asshole” beneath my breath. Nobody seems to hear it but Marcus, and I can tell because his eyebrow twitches in irritation.

“How was your first period?” He asks, still giving me his undivided attention. This fake boyfriends thing is really starting to suck. I don’t want undivided attention, I don’t even want divided attention why would I wanted it undivided? Whatever the hell that means. Seriously though when Marcus looks at me like everything is all sunshine and daisies I want to slap him across the face a good hundred times, but at the same time he makes me feel more comfortable with the way he acts like everything is completely normal.

“Fine.” I respond with a bored tone before slumping back in my chair and shoving my hands into my tight jean pockets as best as I can. Marcus watches me in irritation for a moment before leaning over and whispering into my ear.

“You know for people to actually believe that we’re dating, your going to have to put some effort into acting like your head over heels in love with me.” I don’t know why but this makes me angry. He acts like I asked for him to be my fake boyfriend, when in fact it was all his decision. He had to storm through the crowd in all his fake noble glory, declaring himself the love of my life when really, I had no desire to be around him for the next thousand years.

Turning my mouth towards his ear I hiss, “What the hell am I supposed to do, I’m not a fucking chick!” Marcus smiles cutely at my comment, but I can’t tell how much of that smile is real and how much of it is fake. He brings a beautiful hand to the bag of my head and digs his fingers into the hairs on the nape of my neck curling the digits gently but forcefully through my blond bristles giving them a light tug. A sharp zap of pleasure shoots from my head down my spine and to my dick where I twitch in delight. What the hell was that? All he did was dig his hand into my hair and pull, and yet for some reason it was oddly provocative. Blushing I don’t say anything while readjusting myself in my seat and discreetly nudging his hand away from the back of my head.

“Boys,” Mr. Morris coughs awkwardly, we look up to see the older man blushing and looking at the floor in embarrassment, “Although I am quite happy that the two of you can be so open about your relationship I would ask that you refrain from getting too in depth with each other while you’re in my classroom, you see I’m on old man who can’t quiet take the steaminess of teenage intimacy.” Marcus chuckles and pulls away from me sitting upright in his desk.

“Of course, sorry Mr. Morris.”he apologizes sweetly, then me and him slip into shared silence while Mr. Morris goes on with his lesson plan for the day.

At lunch Marcus decides that we need to leave the school building to go and eat at his house, why we have to go to his house and eat I am unaware but alas it must be so, and seeing as how lately Marcus has been acting extremely confident with his forceful abilities I just go along with it. It’s in my best interest If I want to live a few more years of my pathetic life. “Why do we have to go to your house to eat?” I ask again as we pull onto his street.

Marcus pulls his car into the driveway of his quaint two story house then shuts the machine off with a sigh. “Listen one of the easiest ways to make this work at school, is to make it work at home, if we can’t play the part by ourselves and in the comfort of my own home, how do you expect to play the part in a school full of hormonal teenagers?” With this he exits the car shutting the door happily behind him. I watch as he comes around to my door and –I kid you not-pulls it open for me to get out. I stare at him skeptically for a moment before sighing and hauling myself out of the passenger seat, “I was unaware that this had turned into a full scale Broadway musical.” I seethe as he throws his arm over my shoulders lazily. Dramatically I stop us putting on my best love induced female face saying, “Oh Gene when can we start Singing in the Rain?”

Marcus scoffs pulling my forcefully beside him while walking up the stairs, “The mere fact that you know the title of that movie, and the actors name tells me how gay you really are.” Annoyed I bat his arm away from me and walk ahead to his door, not even bothering to knock before throwing it open.

“Mom, I’m home, and I brought Collin!” He shouts loudly at the empty living room. For a minute the house is silent, and I stare at the familiar salmon walls that are complimented by the tan couch covered by a set of neat little pink pillows. The coffee table is just one giant pillow on some sort of wooden slate, designed with Indian patterns while a dainty little golden dish sits on top where a readers digest lays unread. There’s a painting hanging above the couch that has so many object inside of it, that all I see is a mass of clutter, and on either side of the couch there are lamps with intricately designed shades.

“I’m in the kitchen dear!” His mother shouts merrily from down the hall, Marcus nods grabbing my elbow towing me behind him as we enter the kitchen. The room is filled with cherry red wood, with marble counter tops and sleek stainless steel appliances. There are little glass containers here and there filled with different spices and interesting things, and the window is open behind the sink where Mrs. Alexander is standing with a tray of cookies that apparently she’s about to put into the oven. “Hey sweetheart!” Mrs. Alexander greets coming over with a cookie sheet in one hand and a dough riddled spoon in the other. She leans over and kisses Marcus on the cheek sweetly, before looking at me and placing one on my cheek as well. Blushing I look up at Marcus who just smiles down at me before turning back to his mother who is not shoving the cookie sheet into the oven.

“Mom, I have to tell you something.” He announces happily, panic shoots through me. Is he for real about this, what the heck is his mom going to say? Nervously I grab his hand and squeeze it violently, his head flicks to look down at me curiously and I shake my head vigorously.

“Yes, what is it sweetheart?” His mom asks happily, walking back to the counter where she begins to load more cookie dough onto yet another cookie sheet. Marcus grins at me and pulls me by my hand forward towards where his mom is at work.

“Mom, Me and Collin are dating.” Mrs. Alexander’s head shoots up to look at us, Marcus brings our enclosed hands to his mouth and places a happy kiss on my knuckles, the embarrassment I feel at that moment, you can’t even imagine, what the hell am I some chick? Mrs. Alexander stares in surprise at us, and I’m afraid she’s going to start crying and asking god why he had to give her a gay son or something equally horrible, but I’m surprised when she just smiles. Not a fake half-assed smile but a real genuine smile that reaches all the way up to her crystal blue eyes that are about as brilliant as Marcus’s.

“That’s great sweetheart, congratulations!” Then she grabs a warm plate of cookies and holds it up to us, “Have a celebratory cookie!” Marcus grins and grabs two cookies off the plate handing one to me. Still stunned I take the cookie silently.

“Thanks mom, we just came here to tell you and maybe have some lunch before we have to head back to the school.” He responds taking a big munch of his cookie. I stand there for a few minutes awkwardly, I have no idea what to do I mean I haven’t been inside this house for a good year or so, and now I walk in declaring I’m her sons boyfriend and everything is like fucking rainbows and sunshine?

“Alright I’ll whip you up something real quick, while you wait you can head upstairs, I’ll call you in a few minutes.” Marcus just nods, then grabs my hand and pulls me up the stairs with him. We walk down the hall past a few doors and into Marcus’s room. A gasp of aw escapes my lips as I stare at the room in amazement. It’s nothing like I remember it being in 9th grade. The room looks so much more mature, his queen sized bed is sitting against the red wall at the far left of the room, the frame is black, sleek and modern, the bedspread is also black , and you can see a little bit of the crimson sheet poking out from behind the black pillows. The floor is a dark mahogany wood with a black red and white swirl designed carpet that sits at the side of the bed. The bedside table is the same sleek modern black as the bed frame and on top sits an epic red dragon lamp that I want to steal the moment I see it. There are picture frames and lacrosse sticks strewn across the room lazily and a black sleek desk on the opposite side of the room from the bed where I huge touch screen computer sits in all of it’s epic proportions. Next to the desk is a sleek black book shelf that contains millions of books, and I mean books, not like comics or just a dictionary or the latest porn mag. The books are from famous authors from all time frames Shakespeare, Thoreau, Fitzgerald, and then millions of other books, when I see them I wonder if Marcus has actually read the books that are sitting inside the shelf, but soon I’m distracted by a giant ass poster sized picture of me and him and a few of the other guys on the team clasping hands in a root of victory. The picture is from my 8th grade summer when I joined sophomore lacrosse with Marcus, I look young and happy, while Marcus stands next me smiling down at me excitedly as I stare up at him and the boys around us jump and hug excitedly. “Nice picture” I murmur.

“Yeah” Marcus nods staring up at it sadly for a moment before turning to look at me, nostalgically. “Yeah it is.”