Ivan Petrov
This isn't your first day in school, I tell myself for the hundredth time this morning.
Then why does it feel like one? I shoot back to myself.
Because this is the first time you're going to school after coming out, I reason in my head.
Ah, a part of me I didn't know existed says. But 'you' didn't come out, did you?
Can we stop? I scold the gazillion voices in my head that have enough opinions to brainwash twitter.
"Stop what?" Hope asks, coming out of the shower with only a towel covering his lower half and absolutely nothing covering his upper half.
Why? All my inside voices chorus. If there is one thing that gets all of them united, it's Hope. Either we're all furious at him or completely smitten about him. But Hope unites all of my insides, that's the point.
I didn't realize I'd said that aloud, I think.
"Well you did." Hope slips on a shirt. I turn around when he picks up his jeans. "I'm wearing my boxers, it's okay."
I stare at the wall. "You're saying it's okay for me to look at you with just your boxers?"
He doesn't respond. He slips his bag on one shoulder and mine on the other, and motions towards the door. "All set for school?"
"No," I grumble, taking my backpack from him. He shakes his head and looks pointedly at my fractured hand. I grumble even more.
He chuckles as we head downstairs. "Dad wanted to talk to you. He's in the kitchen."
I nod wordlessly. Richard's been wanting to talk to me since I got discharged from the hospital.
"And I'll go call Bas for breakfast. Wish me luck."
"Why luck?" I ask him. "You guys get along rather well, don't you?"
"That's only when you're around," he admits. "There isn't really a fight or anything. We're just not very fond of each other. Or at least he isn't. I just follow his suit."
I don't think it's my place to poke my nose into whatever the brothers have between them. So I leave Hope at Sebastian's door and head downstairs.
Dr. Richard Hope is sitting against the kitchen table with a toast in his hand. Emelia is applying some marmalade on another slice of bread. They ask me to choose between toast and cereal. I choose the latter.
As I pour some milk into my cereal, Robert rises, a plate of toast in hand. He motions me to follow him to the dining table. He takes his seat at the head of the table and right next to him on one of the sides, my breakfast in front of me.
"How's the physiotherapy going?" he asks like any father would as his son.
"I've had a couple of sessions so far. They're alright? Like any physio session would be, actually. Painful but I end up feeling better in the end, so it's worth it."
He nods. "I've been meaning to ask you something, and I know you aren't obliged to answer me, but it would really help me if you did."
When I nod, he says, "When Lex brought you to the hospital, you were bruised and bloody. Beaten up. It worried me, but not as much as what I came to know later. We were preparing you for an x-ray scan, when I realized some of the scars on your torso... they weren't fresh."
I gulped. Richard looks at me curiously, his face filled with concern. "That wasn't the first time those boys were attacking you, was it?"
I avert my eyes. "They haven't injured me that way before."
"Then those scars on your torso... It's not my place to ask, but was it your father?"
I hold my breath. "Not all of them."
He exhales like he'd been suspecting it all along. He covers my hand with both of his. "Do you want to talk about it? Or see a therapist, perhaps?"
I shake my head. "That won't be required. I- I'm not doing it anymore. Cutting, that is. I'm in a much better state now. And it's because of you, your whole family. I'm - Thank you very much."
He smiles at me. "You're one of us now. We care for you as much as we care for each other. If you need any help, however trivial it may be, we're always here for you."
I smile back at him. "But can you please not tell Hope about this. He'd be... more worried than me. Just don't let him know, please?"
"Hope?" He looks puzzled.
I stammer. "Alexander. Your son. Don't let him know."
Richard nods understandingly. "He's protective about you. That's very unusual of him but it's nice to know there's someone he truly cares about. And I'm not telling anyone."
Hope comes just in time. He takes a bowl and pours some milk into it, and then he adds the cereal. I cringe at him. I expect him to snap back at me. Instead, he shrugs and looks at his father. "Bas isn't feeling well. He's going to take the day off from school."
"What's the matter?" Richard asks, as worried as he was some minutes ago when he was talking to me.
Hope shakes his head. "I, uh. You should talk to him when he comes down. It's not my place to tell."
He then turns to me. "Have your phone with you?"
I nod and wave the device in front of him to show I'm not lying. He won't even let me go to the garden without my phone in hand, imagine my school.
After we're done with breakfast, Hope and I head to school. He's going to drop me to the closest bus stop, from where I'll board the school bus. Hope is unusually quiet throughout the trip. He doesn't even notice when I change the music to a rock FM.
"What's wrong?" I ask, lowering the radio's volume.
He stays quiet and avoids looking at me. I shrug. "I shouldn't have asked."
"Jess is gone," he blurts. He looks at me for a brief moment.
"Gone?" I'm trying to make sense of his words, there are so many ways to interpret it.
"Disappeared. Her whole family. Yesterday, Bas went over and the neighbors said the whole family had packed up and left the previous day. Where? Nobody knows. And she's deleted all her social media accounts. There's no way to communicate."
"And Bas didn't know about this before?" I ask, trying to compose myself.
Hope shakes his head. "He's miserable. I can't... I wish I could help him."
"You can." I fiddle with the seatbelt. "Talk to him. Ever got your heart broken, Mr Loverman?"
He smiles wryly. "I know it's going to surprise you. But yes. More than three years ago."
I catch his eyes in the rear view mirror.
"I remember every detail about her," he says, consumed by emotion and memories. "Sometimes I think I'm forgetting her face, her voice, her smell, and I'll wake up in the middle of the night and see if I remember. And she's always there, I don't think I'll ever forget her."
"Do you want to?" My voice is hoarse.
He shrugs. "Sometimes, yes. A lot of the times I wish I didn't know her in the first place. And some other times I'm grateful I met her. But most of the time, I simply don't know how to feel. Are we exes if we weren't really together?"
My stomach tightens. I've never felt this way before. It's like I'm sick from the inside. "What's her name?"
"Gabriella."
I look at him weirdly. "Did you guys do a musical together or something?"
"Ivan, I'm being serious. Besides, I don't think she even liked me back."
"You're, what? One of the best basketball players in your school?"
"I wasn't then."
"But you were still in the team. And her name is Gabriella. High School Musical, only ten times more realistic."
"We used to go out on dates together. Dates according to me, she thought we were just hanging out. And we used to, I don't know, touch and hold each other and be undeniably cheesy when out of the blue I saw her doing the same with another guy. A college dude, I think. I asked her about him, and she said they were just playing around. Just like we were. Nothing serious."
"So she broke your heart? And is that why you were so casual with everyone else? Never committed, because you didn't want anyone else breaking your heart."
He pauses. "How did you know?"
"You're an open book, Hope. A kindergartner could read you."
He flushes out of embarrassment. No one likes being compared to preschool books. "Have you ever got your heart broken?"
"It's hard not to, to be honest. I'm almost used to it."
"So Dorian Gray... Was he one of them?"
I give him a blank stare. "No. We never really- I like him, Hope. But not that way."
"Then which way?" He's cute when he's jealous.
I give it a thought. He's been so open to me, I'm not going to lie to him. But now's the worst time to tell him the truth. "He's an interesting person."
"Interesting? And others aren't interesting?"
"I didn't say that. Besides, we were talking about Sebastian. Take this as an opportunity to be a better brother and speak to him. Or just be with him. He needs someone, that someone could be you."
He looks at me with no confidence at all. "He's going to hate me even more."
"I'm only asking you to try. He's your brother after all."
"And Vinny's your teammate. Look what happened."
I glare at him. "You're comparing Sebastian to Donovan?"
"No, I'm comparing myself to Donovan." He takes me by surprise. He's speaking like he's thought of this a lot. "I'm afraid I'll screw up so badly, I'll... I'm not a good person, am I, Ivan?"
"You seriously think so? That you and Donovan are the same?"
He avoids looking at the rear view mirror because our eyes will meet there. I don't wait for a response. "A few months ago, if someone would've asked me who was better between the two of you, I'd have said Donovan. Now, obviously, my answer has changed."
"Because he bashed you up for being gay?"
I wince. "Because I know who you are. I've lived with you for so long. I know enough about you to know you're one of the best people I've ever met. You were kind to me even though I hated you. You were generous, didn't complain when I was there. I thought you were the biggest asshole this town had seen. I didn't know how wrong I was."
"Because Vinny turned out to be shittier than you expected?"
"I'm not talking about him, goddammit!" I throw my hands up in frustration. "I don't care about Donovan or even some priest in the Church. You care for me and I've been nothing but unkind to you. You saved my fucking life when I thought death was inevitable. You, Hope. You're a good person, and there's no one you'd rather hear it from than your worst enemy."
"So I'm not going to screw up?"
I sigh and crash my head against the seat. "You're still stupid as fuck, you know."
He smiles. "Look, your stop is here. Good luck, it's been so long since you went to school."
"I'm going to need it." I manage a smile. "Can I still back off?"
"No." He leaves his car and opens the door for me. He helps me with my bag and tells me to not be careless about any of my injuries. And then comes the advice of the century. "Make friends."
I roll my eyes. "Sure, Mr Loverman. Your turn to leave now. All the best with Sebastian."
He smiles and starts the engine of the car. As I see his convertible reduce into a speck on the road, I realize I have met one of the greatest people ever. Even if he'll just be friends with me, I suppose that's enough.
The school bus comes soon after. The butterflies in my stomach start behaving like hungry lions. When I enter the schoolbus, I'm greeted with stares and comments. Sure, the cast around my hand does attract attention. But that's not what people are talking about.
My entry to the school is no different. The comments and stares are harder to ignore this time. I pass the day in silence. Tyler and I have only one class together so we stick around for that one, but otherwise, no one talks to me except for the occasional homophobic comment I should be used to by now.
I'm obviously not.
At lunch, I sit at an empty table. I'm so used to Hope feeding me my meals (and disgusting salads) that I've forgotten to eat with my own hands. Damn, I'm thinking of Hope in the cafeteria. He's going to be hard to get over.
I don't expect anyone to sit with me but surprisingly, someone does. Someone I know accompanied by someone I don't.
"You don't mind if we join you, do you Ivan?" Hayden says as he slides into one of the seats.
I shake my head. I stare at the girl he got along. She has short blonde hair and is wearing all black. Dark eyeliner and lowkey gothic makeup. Maybe she listens to the same songs I do?
"This is Willow, by the way. She can be dry sometimes but don't mind her."
Willow shrugs and starts stabbing her meal like she could kill it if she tried. "Hello strangers."
"You're proving my point, Willow," Hayden says.
She shrugs. "Can you speak?" she asks me.
"I forgot to mention, she can be blunt sometimes," Hayden says.
Sometimes?
"Yeah. Nice t-shirt," I tell her.
She looks at it. It's a black t-shirt with Behemoth written into it in the way it's supposed to be written.
"I wrote it myself."
"Well, it's great," I say, hoping smiling will push away the awkwardness.
She shrugs and continues stabbing at her meal. I don't think she's going to eat even a bit of it.
"You'll get used to it," Hayden says, cheery as always. I don't think I will.
Willow kicks Hayden beneath the table. "I heard that, you useless moron."
They start exchanging rather disturbing ways to kill and torture each other. I focus on my food, but I keep thinking of one of their rotten teeth on it and decide against taking even a single bite.
"Why aren't you eating anything?" Willow asks once they're done arguing. She's almost done with her food. When did that happen?
"Because we ruined his appetite, can't you see?" Hayden responds.
Willow gives him a murderous glare. "That's such a stupid reason." She turns back to me. "Eat your food or you're not going back to class, get it?"
I nod and return to my food. A random guy passes by and winks at Willow. "Wanna come to the movies with me?"
She glares at him. "I've already seen it."
"You don't even know which movie I was talking about," the guy responds. He looks pretty decent, if you ask me. I wouldn't mind going for a movie with him.
Willow gives him another deadly glare and he shuts his mouth.
"Some morons think asking girls out will add to their resume," she mutters. Hayden chuckles next to her.
At least she's rude to everyone, I think and laugh along.