Showing posts with label crushes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crushes. Show all posts

October 2, 2021

A Preparatory Story: Geoffrey






He never aspired to a position of power, yet Geoffrey had been groomed for this life. Through he originally entered St Ignatius' all male atmosphere as a trio of gays like the reigning senior gays at the time, he now found himself the sole out homosexual of his class in his fourth and final year. It was unprecedented, really. The head queer, while fearsome, always had at least one - if not two - colleagues to help them rule quietly. And though Geoffrey knew of others his year he could confide in, none were ready to stomp the halls with him.

Confident in his sexuality and his slightly sturdy build, it still perplexed him that even in his last year his classmates would pull him aside to ask, “Hey, are you gay?” purely out of ignorance. He knew he wasn’t the most flamboyant of his peers, but he assumed it would have become obvious after four years studying together. There were only 107 students in their grade, after all. Yet he brushed it off, knowing he had his conquest in his day.

Of course, that was the chief - but not sole - purpose of the yearly renewed queerdom. In a school full of hormonal teenage boys, there were bound to be questions, inquiries, and explorations. Throughout the years, Geoffrey and his peers discretely addressed their fellow classmates' sexual concerns in the secrecy of the preparatory walls, some finding the courage to join their ranks at the end of a senior year, others accepting a mouth was just a mouth. (This was before the days of sexuality commonly being accepted as a spectrum, particularly in the black community.) The second role of this society was to ensure that queer students and other queer individuals their peers would meet later in life would be respected and treated as equal. No stigma, all chill. Lastly, if the head gay chose to accept, they were to influence the politics and culture of the school as a whole. Some saw it important to be part of the school government directly. Others, like Geoffrey, preferred to work in the shadows.

Today, however, he had to address the first two missions directly. The Class of 2009, as a collective, had been a problem since they stepped foot on campus their freshman year. Now as sophomores, they felt new rambunctious energy as the Class of 2010 entered. These two classes saw new spikes in openly out and daring homosexual boys, eager to speak their mind in any situation despite the danger or the authority figure. Knowing he only had so many lieutenants in the Class of 2008, Geoffrey saw it imperative to hold a caucus of all the known gays by October of that Fall Semester.

With Mr Ness occupied with Water Polo tryouts and practice, Geoffrey sat behind his desk in the office looking out into the cafeteria. Ness’ office was a common meeting place for queer students, water polo players, student government leaders, and any upperclassman looking to lurk on campus after hours. It was a modest size, enough room for a couple of worn in couches and a small armchair to line the walls with another chair sitting opposite of his desk. Plaques, degrees, and photographs of alumni and former water polo teams hung from the walls. That afternoon, Geoffrey was joined by Navius - a junior gay - and Conrad - a bored senior.

“What time are they all getting here? You know I gotta leave for work,” Navius said anxiously, watching the clock and tucking his grey polo into his khakis.

Geoffrey adjusted his glasses, keeping his gaze fixed on his history textbook. “As soon as Lionel gets here, you can leave. You got bout ten minutes to walk across the courtyard; you’ll be alright.” Hearing Navius huff, he looked up. “Look, the problem is they do what they want as it is. And that’s fine. We don’t need to be an unified front. They just need to know the rules and respect them so we can all… well.”

“Oh, don’t be modest on my part,” Conrad cut in, picking out his hair. “It’s not like I don’t know. After spending the last year eavesdropping, my world view has been illuminated. If these walls could talk --”

“Exactly. And we don’t need the faculty having more concern than they already do.”

“Imagine if they were running around doing the same thing though.”

Geoffrey and Navius shot him a lowered-eye, raised eyebrow smirk.

Conrad adjusted his legs underneath him on the couch in a singular leap. “Okay, who the fuck did what? Tell me!” Noticing he was shouting, he adjusted to a whisper. “I mean, let me in. Please.”

As Navius started to open his mouth, Javon and Kyle burst into the room, Lionel following behind them. “I’m telling you, you gotta try the sushi,” Lionel said. “Even from the cafe, it delivers.”

“Raw fish tho?” Kyle questioned.

“You’ll slurp it right up, no hetero.”

Navius chuckled and shook his head. “Ya’ll too much. But that’s my cue. Good luck, Geoffrey.” Before the senior could get a word out, the student worker grabbed his backpack and slid between Javon and Kyle out the door.

“Well,” Javon smacked his gum and plopped his in the chair angled in front of the desk, crossing his short, slender legs, “you called for the gurls--”

“--and the gurls! Have arrived!” Kyle spun slowly with his arms above his hands flourishing out. Dizzy from even that he sat in the chair closest to the door. Lionel, looking to keep things casual, opted to sit next to Conrad. They exchanged smiles.

“I guess asking for every single one of ya’ll to come was too much?” The lowerclassmen shrugged. Geoffrey closed his eyes and channeled Bernard who had come before him. “Listen, you know I love ya’ll - and pass this on to ya’ll friends - but ya’ll need to dial it back.”

“Uhn-uhn. I refuse to dim my star just because you’re boring,” Kyle snapped.

“First of all, lil boy, that’s not what I was talking about. Secondly, Brady and em used to stomp down these halls in full geish and heels. So learn ya history.” He took a moment to readjust himself behind the desk. “I’m talking about outting these boys ya’ll be messing with. We don’t do that.”

Javon sucked his teeth. “Yeah, I hear you, but these niggas be tryna pop off, and I’m not gonna let them talk to me me any kinda way. They wanna try me, I’mma come for them.”

“But see,” Lionel chimed in, “you gotta be strategic. Like, boom, a dude I messed with tried to play me in front of his friends last year. So I read his dusty ass twists. He ain’t have much to say after that.”

“Why I feel like I know who you talking bout?” Conrad felt Lionel elbow his ribs.

“I guess,” Kyle said. “But that don’t feel as satisfying.”

Geoffrey polished his glasses. “Trust me, it will. Just don’t embarass them too bad if you want them to keep finding you after school. Otherwise some of these men aren’t gonna figure themselves out til college or worst after they knock some poor girl up three times.”

“Okay, point taken, bitch.”

“Don’t call me bitch.”

“What up, bitches!” Silas burst into the room with two other water polo players following behind him. “Fuck ya’ll talkin bout in here? What up, ‘Rad?”

“Shut up, Silas. What are ya’ll doing here anyway? I thought ya’ll had practice.” Geoffrey swivled in the chair to check the calendar behind him.

“Nah, it’s just tryouts today, and I ain’t the captain so we waiting til they done.”

“Mmhmm.” As he turned back towards the door, through the space between the intruders, he spotted Trey in the cafe. “Excuse me for a second.” Manuveuring through the crowded office, he slipped out.

“So what, are we dismissed?” Javon called out to him.

“Yeah, we’re done. And Silas, don’t take my seat.”

His 6’5” friend had a clever response, but Geoffrey didn’t hear him as he glided to Trey who busy filling his water bottle. His wavy caesar hair shimmered in the sunlight coming through the glass doors, his sienna skin well moistured. He wore a t-shirt and athletic shorts that hung loose every where but his posterior, which at the moment mesmorized Geoffrey. Snapping back before being caught, he greeted his friend.

“Oh, yo, what up, G?” Trey smiled as he released the button to the fountain. “Did you want to get in on this?”

“What? No. I just… wanted to make sure you remember he have that history quiz tomorrow.” He amazed himself.

“That’s why I’m glad I got a spot next to yo smart ass in class. Bout to be cheatin than a mothafucka.”

Geoffrey rolled his eyes. “Or you could just study.”

“Nah, I’m bout to go practice some lacrosse drills.”

“Ya’ll aren’t even in season.”

“Grind never stops, knahmean. But if you’re here after I’m done, I’ll catch you for some notes.” Trey started making his way out the door, flashing his smile as usual.

Geoffrey hoped he had positioned himself out of Silas’ view to avoid ridicule. From the looks of it, it seemed most of the gays had cleared out of Ness’ office. As he started to make his way back, he noticed Conrad leave and pause at the cafe exit leading towards the computer lab. The afro’d lad cracked his neck and peeked behind him before carrying on his way. Having no real desire to reclaim his seat, Geoffrey followed him at a distance. The halls remained quiet as they each softly stepped, only noise of opening and closing doors echoing. Around the corner from the computer lab across from the bottom of the steps were double doors leading to the back stairwell and the closed gift shop. And one more door that was rarely used that led to the prayer room. Ensuring no one was behind him, he checked the doorknob: it was unlocked. He opened the door to find Conrad casually sitting on a pillow. He closed the door and locked it. This was discretion.





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May 4, 2016

Writing Wednesdays: Charles & Jr, 3rd Grade Archeologists

A blacktop playground might not seem like the most suitable option for a period of recess, but when you need it to double as the faculty parking lot, you make due with what you have. Children don't need a jungle gym when they have footballs, chalk, and their imagination. The possibilities are endless the less you're given as a child.

Charles and Jr were perfect examples of the success of such a system. Along the fence keeping the children from wandering away to the ice cream shop down the street were tiny cracks in the blacktop. If you possessed enough conviction - and strong enough rocks - you could expose the dirt underneath the asphalt, and Charles and Jr did just that. 

Having met in Kindergarten, the pair had been inseparable for four years. They inspired each other to be creative and grasp for knowledge, making them two of the smartest children in their class. On this day, the boys used their recess to see if they could break through the next layer of earth. 

"We need to find a sharper rock to get through the other side. Ugh, why didn't I bring my collection to school today?!" Charles said as he threw his pale, smooth stone to the side. 

Jr passed Charles the chipped piece of asphalt he was using. "Here you go. You have tougher hands than I do." Jr reached into his pockets and pulled out a squarish, brown rock. 

"Yeah. Yeah, this should work. Thanks," he paused to make sure no teachers were around and whispered, "bitch."

Jr giggled, happy his friend was using the naughty words he taught him after learning them from his older sister. Jr stared at him for a beat and then continued to clear around the sides of the nearly foot deep hole as Charles went back to work on cracking the base.  

Behind them, all the children of the odd numbered grades played. It wasn't that the duo was antisocial. Surprisingly they were very popular, especially after Charles stuttered through the morning announcement, Jr naturally by his side. The two just weren't athletic. During gym, instead of getting pelted with giant red balls, they would hide by the radiator on their side of the cafegymatorium and pretend they were in WWII trying to survive the bombings. The imagination these two had knew no bounds. 

A green ball crashed into their worksite, startling the young excavators. "Sorry," Rashida called out to them. 

"Throw us the ball," Sean teased them. Not having learned how to back down from a challenge yet, Charles picked up the ball and attempted to shotput it. The ball flew three feet and rolled to Rashida. 

"That was better than yesterday. Not bad." Rashida flashed a smile and ran to join Sean and the others in their bastardized version of four square. 

Jr looked on as Charles blushed over Rashida, the girl that had his first name as her last. Jr knew he was imagining his name as Charles Charles again and didn't like it. The Porteguese sidekick stood up and shook the dirt off his pants like his daydream. 

"Where are you going? We haven't gotten through to the Mesozoic era yet. I know there's a stegosaurus under this last plate!" Charles called after his friend. 

"I'm done. And you know it's not a stegosaurus. It's gonna be a triceratops. Plus, I think the bell is gonna ring soon."
Like a sound cue, the teacher on duty rung the handbell signaling recess was over. 

"I hate your sense of timing." 

Jr shook his long brown hair out of his face and messed with his friend's tight curls, running away after.  Charles gave chase for five meters before his asthma kicked in and waited for his best friend to help him. The boys walked into together, equal in every way save the limits of their imagination. 



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