Rowan
Rowan’s point of view.
Just another day with my head in the toilet.
No I wasn’t sick. No I wasn’t drunk. At least once a week I was given a swirly from the high school assholes. I tried to use the nurse’s bathroom but of course it was always too far away when I needed it the most, and it was flu season and I didn’t want to get the dreaded bug; Nurse Hunnewell already sent two kids home. Let me give you advice if your head is ever forced into the toilet:
1. Hold your breath. Toilet water is fucking nasty and you don’t want that in your mouth.
2. Try to imagine yourself in an underwater scene in a movie. I like to pretend I’m a scuba diver in Finding Nemo, but lately I was imagining I was Sara Paxton’s character from Shark Night. Fighting back while surrounded by sharks and hoped someone would rescue me…but no one ever did. It was their favorite game, “Flush the Fag.”
The words from my bullies were muffled from the ugly green water. But I could still hear their sadistic laughs, the same kind of belly laughs the jocks have in sex comedies when the hot girl makes a dumb joke while wearing a push-up bra. My teen years had become a stereotypical high school comedy and I was waiting for the credits to roll.
My head was suddenly yanked out of the toilet. Water was in my ear, I hoped I didn’t get another ear infection. I could hear their stupid chuckles clear as day now. I kind of wished my head was back in the water to drown out their bad laughs.
“When you gonna fight back, Selfaggio?” Scott Albright remarked.
“Twinks like him are the fucking weakest prey,” Trey Morgan’s eyes and words cut through me like red hot blades. I had heard all this before but it still stung. Fag. Twink.
I said nothing as I stared at them wide-eyed.There was no point in trying to defend myself, they were right. I was five foot seven, skinny, and flinched easily. In this food chain, I was the useless worm the vultures ripped apart. I wished they would swallow me whole, get it over with.
They left me alone dripping wet in my misery. I finally found the strength to stand up andwalk to the sink. I crouched my head as far as I could under the faucet to rinse out the dirty water. My hand pumped the soap out of the dispenser and lathered it in my hair. I just needed enough to hopefully cover the odor from the toilet and cheap disinfectant the janitor used. The smell didn’t even bother me anymore, I was dunked in the toilet so much I was desensitized to the scent.
I stuck my head under the air dryer, despite knowing the endless bacteria lived in it. Our school was trying to go green and emphasized using less paper towels, yet we still had the same flickering LED bulbs instead of the environmentally friendly curly light bulbs. It was as if the school board put a bandage on the environment issue while completely ignoring the bullying. The planet would be healthier if there were less people…because the bullies would either kill us or we would off ourselves; maybe that was the masterplan to save Earth.
I hate this school. A small town in Oklahoma, right in the stupid panhandle. Tons of rednecks and homophobes. I’ve known these people my entire life and their minds closed more with age. I just had two more months until graduation. I can do this.
I should’ve went back to math class but I was not about to get a third degree from my conservative teacher. She never out and said she didn’t like my kind, but based on her cross necklace and involvement in the Catholic Church…and the dirty looks she would give me when I wore makeup, our worlds didn’t mix well.
I shook my head in a final attempt to get it dry before heading to the library. I felt safe there, the librarian Mr. Dupree was more free spirited and cultured than the rest of the staff. Whenever Scott and Trey or any of the other jocks came near me, Mr. Dupree would either come over to my table or have me in his office for some favor he would make up. He would find LGBTQ+ books just for me. We need more teachers like Mr. Dupree.
“People are afraid of what they don’t understand,” he told me once. “But it’s no excuse for hatred.”
I feared a lot of things, but it never turned into hatred. It was as if these emotions could ball up together when I had no problem separating and naming my feelings. Hatred and fear were two separate emotions, period. If you’re scared of the dark, you’re scared of the dark, you don’t blame and hate the darkness for what it is. But because I’m gay, I’m hated and blamed for something I have no control over. The boogeymen have always existed, they were never under the bed.
I saw my best friend Addie sitting at the table reading a book. Probably rereading Twilight again. She recently discovered fan fictions and was up most of the night reading them. When her online status said do not disturb, she was in fanfic mode, I knew better than to interrupt that.
“Hey,” I whispered to her.
Addie slowly pulled her eyes away from Breaking Dawn to look at me. Her lips curled in sadness. “What happened?”
“Take a wild guess,” I said deadpan.
She folded the book down and rushed to me. Addie Young would never throw or damage a book. “Are you okay?”
“Wet and defeated, but I’ll survive,” I shrugged.
She looked me over before digging through her Hello Kitty backpack. She’s had that same backpack since eighth grade, it was starting to get holes. Kitty’s white face was noticeably darker and faded from the years of wear, tear, and field trips. But Addie loved that backpack and would use it until the day it finally fell apart. I wondered if Hello Kitty would survive college with Addie.
Addie whipped out a bottle of vanilla perfume. I swear everything this woman possessed in her life smelled like vanilla, even her house smelled like it. She squirted my hair, my neck, and around my waist.
“There! Nobody will know,” she said as if her cute fragrance magically cured my problems. But I knew she cared. Addie and Mr. Dupree would be the only ones I would ever save if this horrid place ever went up in flames.
“Just remember Scott and Trey will probably end up as gas station attendants and gain weight after their sport careers fail,” Addie said as she sat back in her chair, her precious Breaking Dawn book still folded, patiently waiting for her to pick it up again.
I sat across from her. Addie could’ve been popular, she was pretty with her honey blonde hair that darkened in the winter and turned fluorescent blonde in the summer. She was a cheerleader and on the Honor Council. Hanging out with me probably sabotaged her status, but she didn’t care. She actually had foresight that high school statues were temporary and meant nothing after graduation.
“I like you because you have depth,” she told me long ago. “You have a tragic backstory but at least it’s a story.”
I wish I could see the world more like Addie. She found the good in everything. If we were living in the apocalypse, she would say at least we could now find out who we really are. If she lost a limb to a shark, she would say at least the shark got to eat. She had an inspirational quote for every situation no matter how bleak.
I used to be like her until high school started. I officially came out, but there had been rumors and whispers that I was gay for quite some time. Once it was out, it was open season on me. I was the only one that was out in my community. If any other gays existed, they were staying quiet, trying to avoid my fate. I didn’t blame them, I’d go back in the closet if I could, but I outgrew it, as Addie tried to cutely turn it into a metaphor.
“We’re still gonna be the hottest duo at prom,” she picked up Breaking Dawn.“You’re helping me with makeup, right?”
My cynical heart lightened at her words. She loved when I did her makeup. Yeah, I’m a stereotype, the gay guy good at makeup. My mom used to do theatre and learned all about the art of makeup, of course I learned it from her. I used to get weird looks when I was the only dude in Sephora, but the employees got used to seeing me and actually gave me a lot of tips and even asked me for tips. But I still don’t know shit about makeup gurus or the best brands, if I like it, I like it. Addie joked and said I wasn’t gay enough to care about brands.
“Totally, I’ve been researching ideas. Silver is such a fun color to work with,” I said. I had a silver suit I was saving money to buy. It looked metallic, Addie begged me to buy it so I could be her robot date. I love her.
“Are you sure you want to go to prom with me? I’ll probably be a target,” I asked her for the tenth time. I used to go to a bunch of dances before I came out. Since I came out and started wearing makeup, I would be harassed, punch thrown on me, pointed at when Lady Gaga songs were played. I even skipped junior prom because a student in the senior class at our rival school had come out as bisexual, wearing a dress with the colors. Her father was the local pastor. Rumor had it, she left home after that and had her diploma mailed to her. She was my hero, and everything I wished I could be. I was too chickenshit to go to my prom, I stayed home and watched the Glee prom episode, it was safer.
“Rowan, I want you to go with me. You’re my best friend and you deserve to have fun,” she rested her hand on mine. “I don’t care what others say.”
Maybe one day I could be as confident and rose-colored as Addie.
