Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Davis looks down at his feet. “No reason. It’s all good.”
“If you have anything you want to talk about, I’m always willing to listen. I have a good ear. Just ask Mr. Garvey. He whined all last week about how much of a handful you shitheads are.” Law winks at me, knowing I’m listening in.
Davis cracks a smile. “Thanks. I’ll … uh … keep it in mind. But this is something way out of your straight league.”
I step forward. “I know I should pretend I didn’t hear any of that, but, Davis, if you need someone to talk to who’s”—I use air quotes—“in the same league as you, I have a good ear too.”
“I’m good. It’s nothing.” Davis leaves before either of us can stop him.
I don’t get a chance to ask Law about dinner, because my feet carry me into the reception area, chasing after Davis. I can’t pull him aside though, because the room is now filled with little five-year-olds, parents, and my ten teenagers.
“Okay, my lot. File out to the bus.”
I don’t get a chance to talk to Davis when I drop them back at school either, because they all disperse into the parking lot where their parents await.
Davis’s mum greets him with a warm smile, and granted I’ve witnessed a whole two-second exchange between them, but her welcoming doesn’t indicate Davis has a problem at home. Maybe he wants to talk to Anders about something that’s happening at school. Or maybe I’m overreacting and reading into it too much. But the point of me taking over the LGBTQ union was in hopes of getting these kids to open up to me. I want to create a support system so they don’t have to go through the same shit I did when I was in school. The comments, the slurs … none of them were directed at me because I was closeted, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t get to me. My bullies were talking about me, even if they didn’t know they were.
After returning the bus keys to the office, changing out of my gi, and grading some homework in my classroom, I find myself in my car, driving back to Law’s dojo.
Something doesn’t sit right with me about Davis, and I want to talk to Law and see what he thinks I should do. Forcing Davis into talking could push him away, and if it’s something serious, I don’t want to do that.
Law’s locking up as I pull up in an empty parking spot out front. “Come back for another ass kicking?” he calls out. I go to get out of the car, but he opens the passenger side door and climbs in. “Thanks for the ride.”
“I’m giving you a ride?”
“Sure. You want to talk about the kid, and I don’t want to walk home. It’s a win-win. I was expecting you. I saw the way you looked at Davis. You’re worried.”
“You a mind reader now? How do you know I didn’t come here to talk about your brother?”
“Why would we want to talk about him for?”
My eyes widen. “Oh, shit. I thought he told you … or, I dunno, maybe I’m being paranoid—”
Law breaks into a laugh. “I know you hooked up again.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Only to my friends, and apparently, you’re desperate for some of those.”
“Well, when you’re so kind …”
“So, the kid,” Law says. “I have no idea what that was about this afternoon, but I can hazard a few guesses. If he wanted to talk to Anders, it has to do with the whole being a gay teen in a shitty world.”
“The world isn’t completely shitty anymore.”
“Feels shitty to me,” he mumbles.
“I was in high school only five years ago, and we never had student unions or any programs in schools to teach about LGBTQ issues. Now, I have ten students in my union alone. In high school. It’s still far from perfect, but it’s something. I’m worried why Davis couldn’t come to me.”
“Maybe it’s that you’re new. Maybe he doesn’t trust you yet, or maybe it’s because he knows he won’t have to look Anders in the eye every day after he gets whatever it is off his chest.”
“How does Davis even know Anders?” I ask.
“Last term, Anders had a week off from work, so I told him he should come by the dojo and talk to the kids. They loved seeing us fight.”
“Anders knows martial arts?”
“Do you guys talk at all?” he asks with a small smile. I think he already knows the answer to that, but I get defensive anyway.
“He told me you’re a terrible singer.” Yeah, we talk about the real intimate stuff.
“Well, we’re identical so it takes one to know one. We both did martial arts training as kids, but he gave it up in high school. I think he realised how good I was and knew he couldn’t compete, so it became my thing. He only recently came back to it. He told the kids his life story—which isn’t a pretty one—so Davis probably thinks he’d understand what he’s going through the most. Or we could be totally overreacting and he wants to ask Anders out. I think he developed a crush.”