Closet Life

Women are powerful. That may sound extremely narcissistic to some. However, for me, it is simply reality. Somehow women manage to survive more than a man ever could. They also have more sway on the affairs of men in a way that goes unnoticed by their manly, act-now-talk-later mindsets.

My favorite representation of the advantage women have over men is in the Greek play by Aristophanes, titled, Lysistrata. The women of Greece were convinced by Lysistrata to refuse to lay with their men in efforts to prevent the coming war.

Granted, the outcome was a battle among sexes at that point, but the women still had sway enough to cause the men to redirect their attention elsewhere for a time. To this day, I have my book of greek literature sitting on a shelf in my living room where I read it cover to cover, every once in a while.

When I was in the 7th grade, I was dating a girl by the name of Cesmae Crocker. She always had everyone wrapped around her scrawny finger. And she was definitely one of the popular kids. People feared her but even more people hated her. My feelings were most definitely on the contrary.

Strutting around, making everyone either melt, cower, or cry; I admired Cesmae for the power she had. To be capable of making someone worship or curse you simply because you are attractive, strong-willed, and charismatic had me struck with envy. Maybe that’s why I chose her to be the girl to help me pass as straight. Cue the laughter. Awe, you thought I was straight, didn’t you? Sorry to disappoint.

It was the end of the summer and school is starting up again. I was walking to school with my black hoodie, black jeans, and my DanSport backpack. My shaggy blonde hair covered my eyes so I could just watch the sidewalk and avoid eye contact. But I couldn’t shake this feeling that someone was watching me.

"Tyler! Wait up babe!" Right on cue.

I looked up to see a skinny brunette girl running my way. "Hey Ces, I thought that was you," I responded with a tease.

She smirked, agitated. “What the hell does that mean you retard?!" I really hate that word.

I calmly presented a counter. "You know, Ces, people are trying to end the R-word because of it's growing negative connotations." Narrowing my eyes at her, smiling widely, I continued to finish my counter. "Are you encouraging those connotations?" Immediately the bitch blushed bright red. I've won.

"No, of course not! I just...your really stupid sometimes! There!" Ces just stared at the sidewalk and we walked in silence for a bit.

Down the way the stop sign and the crosswalk to campus grew within our sights. Three boys were eyeing me a bit weird. What's their deal? I looked down to checked my flyer and then ruffled my hair to make sure it was still as shaggy as usual so I didn’t stand out. But...They were still staring! Weirdos.

I looked at Cesmae and whispered, "Why are those guys looking at us like that, Ces? What's their deal? Did we do something wrong?"

She took a moment and I started to worry before she said, "Tyler, you should run. I'll try and distract them."

It wasn’t long before I saw a tear stream down her cheek. Just one tear. But that's all she ever cried. This sort of thing had become kind of a routine for the past few months now. So I ran.

"Thanks Ces. I love--." I couldn’t even finish the words before she slapped me. It was insensitive of me to say that at that moment. I didn’t realize because it was so routine. I just ran. The boys started chasing me after they did what they always did with Cesmae, I assume. What that is, I hope I never know. She didn’t deserve this.

"Get back here, Faggot!" One of the boys was taunting me with the big ‘F’. I didn’t know why it hurt so much or why they kept calling me that.

"Fuck of bastard, son of a bitch! I fucked your mom last night and she said to tell you I'm your Daddy!" I kept running but I was laughing so hard at my own retort that I was starting to run out of air. I was slowing down more rapidly, and I began to panic. I felt a hand push me and I actually rolled and tumble down the pavement. It didn’t take long before they were beating and kicking and shoving dirt in my face, calling me a cocksucker and a freak. Why? I haven't done anything like that.

"You like that faggot? Come on fight back, pussy!" This asshole. What's his problem?

I felt so weak. I couldn’t move. The light was getting dim and blurry. No I can't be! Please God, no! I heard their words and the noises of the outdoors become distant. I couldn’t quite make out anything but muffled noises.

For a moment, I felt nothing but more and more abuse. But then I felt them shifting a round and the muffled noises got louder but still remained unclear. Finally, nothing. Did they stop? More muffled noises and sounds. They grew more distant. They left me. Am I gonna die? Fuck me! I'm gonna die!

Some time passed and, at that point, I was just waiting for the world to end this purgatory between life and death. I laid stuck in my own agony. I could only feel. No sound was clear and it was too dim to make anything out, even though it was slowly getting brighter. I could feel the vibrations of cars going by. What the fuck?! You see me like this and you just drive on? What's wrong with you?

Suddenly, I heard a new muffled voice, slightly higher in pitch than the prepubescent pricks that attacked me. Slowly my hearing began to get better and things were less muffled. I could hear the voice. It was a girl.

"Shit! Are you ok, Blondie?" I looked up to see jet black hair hiding the face of what I assumed was a boy. Vision was coming back a bit. I felt her prop me up against the wooden fencing that lined the uniform neighborhood.

I struggled at first but eventually mustered the strength to say, "Who are you?" Pathetic, right?

"I'm Angelica. But everyone just calls me Angel." She looked me over and finally asked the big burning question. "Um....Why are you lookin’ like my Aunt Claris after she fell down two flights of stairs? Damn boy! Were you jumped or something’?"

I tried to think of something to give her but all I could do was parrot, "Or something." She was frowning now and looking at my clothes. So I asked her hoarsely, "What's…wrong?"

Angel looks up at me and seemed to force a smile. "Nothing, silly. I like your hoodie!" But I caught her looking down at my pants. I looked down and saw they were torn up, and dirty too. She frowned at torn pants? For some reason I couldn’t feel anything, emotion-wise. So I didn’t really have much care to give about a strange girl with a empathy for other people’s pants.

"You're in a shock." Angel, looking into my eyes, followed up with, "Your eyes scream to me."

I started to cry and she brushed me off and checked what the damage was. She looked at my pants legs and tore the lower legs off.

“What the hell?!” I couldn’t understand why she would hurt the clothes she felt bad for. “First you frown about a tear and then you tear it some more? What’s your damage Angel?”

She looked at me, blank faced as she turned the torn off pieces into… “Denim leg warmers.” I couldn’t help but smile. As she said it.

“What are you some sort of teen designer, or something?” Smart girl.

“Mmmm…or something.” She’d finished brushing off what she could. Then she looked at me like a serial killer from a movie. “Don't worry, Sunshine. You aren't bleeding but your back, torso, and legs are pretty bruised up. You have a cut on your head, too." She pulled out a thing of napkins from her bag and doctored me. This went on for the next 10 minutes. Then I asked her what grade she was in.

"I'm not telling but I will say I'm in middle school." She smiled. "I'm in your English class." Ugh…Mr. Berg!

"Really?" I was stunned. This chick was in my class and I hadn’t noticed her before.

"Are you gay?"

I tensed up at the question. Not exactly. "Nope. Definitely...not."

Either she was probing me or flirting but she was looking me over and responded, "Whatever you say Sunshine. You say you are straight, then I guess you're straight." Then she winked. How convincing.

"Are YOU gay?" Curious now as to how she would react, I eagerly await her reply.

After a moment, Angel tilted her head, smiled almost slutty, winked, twirling her hair and said, "Oh no! I'm Bi."

"OK..." Not sure what to say next we hobbled to school like nothing happened and enjoyed the hilarity of walking like a couple of winos until we got to school. Standing on the sidewalk in front of the school, I couldn’t help but notice her eyes hiding behind her hair.

Alluring as they were, I was pressed for time and needed to get to class. "See you soon?"

She smiled and nudged me saying, "But never too soon. And always where the sun can shine."