From the Fan Fiction Unbound Archive,
posted by conTessaofthecastle:
As Daphne pulled more forcefully against the stranger gripping her arm, she caught a whiff of the scent that had been haunting her: roses and ash. Astoria was here, pulling at her arm. Before anyone could stop her, Daphne grabbed the hand and uttered the space-shifting incantation, “Actessar.”
Everything went black.
Soph.
I’m the first to wake up and I try not to wake Tess. I’m lying on my side nestled against her back; my arm is around her waist. I can hear her breathing, and her hair tickles my face. I feel a smile spread across my face, one of those big, dopey grins. Last night wasn’t like I expected, but it was still great! I want to stay here for as long as possible. We are very far from anywhere familiar to me. Even though the room is cold outside the blankets, I feel warm and cozy, protective and loving. I never want it to end.
I run over what happened this week: Chris and fan fiction, skating with Orly, Tess with the carrot; making dinner and breakfast; drinking in the dark; Tess kissing me under a million stars. I feel bad that I made Tess cry. And I wonder about Joey. How could his own father break his jaw? What does Tess’s family think? Are they all barbarians up here? Freddy’s got nothing to worry about compared to Joey.
Tess stirs, and I feel her stiffen next to me. She straightens, and I am cold where our bodies were touching but now aren’t. She turns onto her back; her eyes blink open, still heavy with sleep, the green flecks in them almost catlike. She smiles tentatively. I smile back and put my arm across her stomach, thinking this means we’re “side by each.” We say the same thing at the same time. “I’ve never…”
“I didn’t think you were… But you are. I’m glad.”
“I’m glad you are.”
I roll forward, so that my shoulder is over hers but I’m not on top of her. I turn my head so that my chin touches her neck and my nose is in her hair.
Tess speaks first. “So, I guess you came out to everyone in New York?”
“Yes. Of course.” Then I realize I shouldn’t presume anything. “Well, not everyone. I didn’t take out an ad in the Times or anything. I mean, me being gay isn’t a big deal for my family and school. October 11 is National Coming Out Day. I already told my friends, Gordon and Lally and Mibs. Two years ago, Gordon and I both came out at school that day and then went home and told our parents. Lally came out this year. She’s ace.” I’m nervous that I will say the wrong thing. “Doesn’t anyone else know about you, Tess? I mean, besides Joey?”
Tess shifts. “Just Joey.” She pauses. “You think that’s bad. I know.” She sighs. I slide my hand from her stomach to her hip and pull her toward me.
“No, I… Well… You know, it’s better to come out, Tess. Everyone is safer if we all come out and find each other. Don’t you want to live without having to keep that secret?”
She sits erect, sliding herself up against the headboard, forcing my hand away from her waist. She rubs her face with her hands, and then, without looking at me, she says in a low voice, “Soph, it’s not safe for me. My town is not safe. I told you, Joey, his father…” Her voice trails off.
“What happened, Tess?” I’m still lying on the pillow. I’m not sure what to do with my hands, so I pull them back and tuck them under my arms. Her hair is mussed, and all I want to do is run my fingers through it and kiss her again. But I don’t.
“If I tell you, Soph, it has to stay between us. Tomorrow you’re going back to New York and I’m going back to the farm, but you can’t tell anyone. I shouldn’t be telling you, even.”
“I understand. I’ll keep it to myself.” I had forgotten we’re leaving tomorrow. Her saying that pushes all the air out of my lungs.
“Joey and I have always been friends. We went to preschool together. He told me he thought he was gay in ninth grade. And I told him… well, I was figuring stuff out myself. We pretty much knew we couldn’t tell anyone.” She stares at the ceiling while she says this, but she knows I’m looking at her.
“Joey’s father drinks and he has a bad temper. Joey tries to stay out of his way as much as he can. He always has. But last year, his dad caught Joey on the computer. I don’t know what Joey had on it. He wouldn’t tell me. But his father caught him and accused him of being gay. Joey denied it at first, but his father told him to be a man whatever he was and then asked him if he was gay. Joey didn’t answer, but then finally he said he thought he was. His father took a swing at him and said he wouldn’t have any,” Tess’s voice catches, “f-fags in his house.” Her chin quivers, as if she’s going to start crying again.
I reach for her hand, squeezing it tightly in her lap. “Oh, Tess.”
“Joey didn’t want to do anything about it, but he couldn’t move his jaw. He texted me from the emergency room. His dad drove him to the hospital and left him there. I could barely understand what happened when he tried to explain it. He told them in the emergency room that he fell down the stairs at my house. If he didn’t, Soph, the police would have gotten involved, and I can only guess what Joey’s father would have done. They had to wire his mouth shut. He had to wear one of those collars, too, because his father sprained Joey’s neck with that punch.
“I was afraid for Joey to go back to his home, but his mom came to pick him up and take him. They wouldn’t let him leave without a parent. His mom didn’t say anything to the people in the emergency room. Joey’s father acted as if nothing had happened. He was sixteen, Soph. He had no place to go. He still doesn’t. He doesn’t have any money or any other family he can live with. So, we figured out that we could be boyfriend and girlfriend for now. If we acted that way, his dad would leave him alone, and Joey would be safe until he left home.”
I squeeze her hand and start to speak, but she interrupts me.
“You don’t understand it, Soph. I know.” She says it matter-of-factly, not as if she’s mad. “Joey and I don’t have anyone else to talk to. We researched it on the Internet. I know there are schools with openly gay students, even public schools. Gay characters are on TV now and not just as a joke or mentally ill. But Joey and I also looked up what gay teens should do. We need to keep ourselves safe, and that means not coming out until we are in a safe place. Joey’s home,” she pauses, “maybe my home, too, they are not safe. Our town is not safe.” She takes a ragged breath and is quiet. Then she adds, “We don’t have gay clubs at school or youth groups or LGBTQ community centers in Castleton. We don’t talk about this kind of thing. My family isn’t going to be happy if they find out. My MeMe…” her voice trails off.
“Isn’t there some place that you could go?” I ask. It makes no sense to me that in this day and age they have to fake a relationship.
“No, Soph, there isn’t.” Her voice is flat with resignation. “I know New York is different. But not everyone gets to be from a big city where no one cares about this kind of thing. And even in big cities bad things happen, like that shooting in Florida. Don’t you know that people like us…?” She pauses as if she doesn’t want to say the words. “Kids often end up homeless because they have to escape their families? They run away because home isn’t safe. Some of them kill themselves, Soph.” Her voice is soft.
Hearing this, I realize that I haven’t spent much time thinking about it before now. “Tess, I’m sorry. I did know that. I’ve read it too. I didn’t think… Well, it doesn’t seem real to me. I guess, I mean it didn’t seem real. I’ve never known anyone in that kind of danger.” Without meaning to, I begin to cry. “I’m so, so sorry, Tess.”
She continues, in her quiet, calm voice, and I feel her begin to rub my back gently, in small, even strokes.
“Next year I’ll either be in West Point, if I can make it in, or I’ll have enlisted. I can come out there. And maybe my family will be okay with that. I don’t really know.” She stops talking.
“Are you sure, Tess? I looked up stuff about women in the military and then gays, and it looked scary to me.”
“I know the military has problems,” Tess says in that calm voice, “but it’s the best option for me. I know it isn’t always going to be easy. But, Soph, it’s a free education. And then a job. It’s my only chance to go somewhere other than the farm—to see different places, try to do things differently than they do at home. Maybe if my family sees me trying to do my best—” She catches herself, then starts again. “My dad says, ‘if you work hard, the army will reward you.’ I know I can work hard. I just need a chance to prove myself.” She shrugs. “Maybe I can change some people’s opinions. Maybe if I do a good job, I can even win a few fans.” I smile at her joke.
Tess is serious and thoughtful, unlike most girls our age. At first, I thought that she was old-fashioned. Then I started to think she was just conservative. Then I was just shocked that she’s gay and disappointed that she’s in the closet. But now I understand. She isn’t in denial. She has a plan. She’s strategic.
She’ll keep quiet now and she and Joey will be safe. I think she must be using her fan fiction writing to organize her feelings without having to tell anyone she’s writing it. It’s a lot to consider, and I don’t much want to think about any of it. The feel of her hand on my back makes me want to go back under the covers with her and block out the world.
Tess withdraws her hand and turns on her side. I turn on my side, too, so that we’re facing each other. She reaches her arm out to me. I pull the covers back up over us, close my eyes, and lean into her. She feels soft and warm. She also feels fragile, like that expensive Danish china my mother’s always telling me not to use; but I know now that underneath, Tess isn’t all that fragile. She pushes her forehead close to mine.
“It’s—it’s a hard world, Soph. It’s hard for everyone in different ways.” She kisses me again.
Tess.
I am sure I figure out before Soph does how little time we have left. Soph is so optimistic, it wouldn’t occur to her that we might be on borrowed time. This morning we’re going to review our group projects with the faculty and then, after lunch, there’s a peer review of our individual writing. Tonight is the final banquet, and tomorrow we go on a tour of Minerva College in the morning, everyone does a final reading of their individual work after lunch, and then we leave.
I don’t say anything, even though I find it really hard to climb out of that bed, put on clothes, and leave the privacy of our room. As we’re getting dressed, my cheeks heat up, knowing Soph’s watching me. I put on my fleece pullover, then look down at it. Pink, like most of my clothes. I pull it off again and throw it on the bed, then draw in a deep breath for courage and ask Soph, “Can I borrow your sweater? The black one you wore the first night?” Soph is confused at first, then smiles. No, she grins broadly, like a kid at Christmas. She rummages through her bag. When she finds the sweater at the bottom, she throws it to me.
“Why black today, Tess?”
I shrug as I pull it over my head. It smells like a mixture of her citrusy soap and her, “I don’t like pink that much,” I say, and that startles her.
“Tess, your whole wardrobe is pink. Why do you wear it if you don’t like it?” Her hands are frozen on the button of her jeans, and she’s clearly perplexed. Yeah, I imagine Miss “Have my new boots overnight-shipped from L.L.Bean” wouldn’t understand. Funny, today I find that endearing, whereas last night it was irritating.
“Because Mom buys my clothes and her choices are either Walmart or JC Penney. I don’t care and, even if I did, no one would listen to me. This is what we wear in Castleton.” That’s something I never would have said to Soph when we first met.
“But…” She’s still confused about something, I can tell. She’s obviously trying not to make assumptions, which I think is harder for her than she realizes. Finally, she spits it out. “But what about the pink nail polish?”
I inspect my fingers; the shell pink Molly painted on them the day I left is starting to chip. I shrug and say, “My little sister likes to paint my nails.”
She laughs and comes over to fiddle with the sweater, though really, it’s to kiss me again. She says the sweater looks good on me, and then we turn to go down to breakfast. And it gets awkward once more.
Soph grabs my hand and starts out the door, and I have to pull my hand out of hers and shake my head at her. “Soph, please? I can’t tell anyone.”
She freezes instantly. She starts to try to convince me, but stops herself, puts her hand in her pocket, and walks out the door in front of me. She’s silent until we sit down in the breakfast room and she says good morning to Orly. I feel mean and small and guilty, but I turn to Keisha and smile at her when she asks me if I slept all right. Soph and I don’t say another word to each other for the entire meal.
* * *
From Soph Alcazar’s Writing Journal,
February 16, 2018
A father who could break his own son’s jaw.
I’ve only read about the bad things they saw.