New Kid
Chapter One
“Ligouri?”
“Here.”
“Kelly?”
“Here.”
“Kinney?”
“Here.”
“You’re new, right? Transfer from
“Yes.” The homeroom teacher nodded and went on.
“Korinda?”
“Here.”
It was the first day of school,
George Hanson, the Biology teacher who had this particular homeroom glanced at the new kid as he walked out of the room to his first class. He was tall for his age and good looking. He had an attitude about him, though. He looked like one of those kids who was probably smarter than most of the teachers and who wouldn’t take any crap—though he’d probably throw his share of it if he could get away with it.
He’d noticed that a couple of the girls in the room had been looking at the boy, too, though he was either completely ignoring it or really didn’t notice them.
He didn’t seem shy—maybe he was just arrogant. A handsome kid like that would get a lot of looks from the girls in school.
The bell rang again, pulling his attention back to the kids who had filed in for AP Biology. He forgot about the new kid for now.
The new boy, Brian, found his first class, US History, taking a seat by the window about half way back. He liked sitting by the window. Teachers seems to assume that he just wanted to look outside—and he did—but it wasn’t just to daydream. He liked to look out to watch the trees and the cars, even the weather. It was one of what he privately called his small escapes.
He would imagine that he could climb the trees or maybe drive away in the passing cars. Sometimes he would dream up entire stories about being in a ship at sea if it was raining or maybe skiing down a mountain trail if it was winter.
He would do almost anything to get away from reality and part of his game was that no one could know that he even played it.
He had hidden behind a mask since he had first understood that his family was different than most families. The mask hid almost everything. It hid the embarrassment of his parents and the shame he felt in himself. It camouflaged the hurt and the fear and it even covered up the pain from both the tongue-lashings and the beatings themselves.
He had somehow become convinced that if no one knew what it was like at his house then it somehow wasn’t as bad. If no one knew it could be denied. If no one knew then it wasn’t real. Because of this, he chose to have no friends. The other kids, both at school and in the old neighborhood and now in the new one thought he was arrogant. In fact, he was scared to death.
“Mr. Kinney, are you with us this morning?” The teacher was one of those young tight as a virgin bitches who always looked constipated.
Not bothering to verbalize an answer, he turned to face her, waiting for her to continue. “I was saying that there seems to be have been a mistake. You’re supposed to be in AP, not the regular class. You should be across the hall with Mr. Hoke.”
Brian glanced down at his class schedule card. “It says that I should be in room 222.”
“I know what it says. It’s a mistake, I just told you that. You’re supposed to be across the hall.”
“Good.” He stood up, picking up his backpack. He hadn’t bothered to open it yet; he was at least a full head taller than she was. Brushing past her, he left, not noticing the small dark boy who had been sitting behind him staring at him.
A couple of hours later Brian had gotten his food and was surveying the cafeteria for a place to sit when the same small boy shyly came up beside him, indicating a table. “Want to sit here?”
“Sure, thanks.”
“I’m Michael Novatny.”
“Brian Kinney.”
“…I saw you in History this morning, before you moved over to AP. You’re new here, aren’t you?”
Brian took a bite of apple. Michael noticed that all he had for lunch
was a carton of milk and that piece of fruit. “Yeah, my father got a
new job a couple of months ago. We moved here from
“I’ve always lived here.” There was a pause while they both ate. “You must be smart to be in AP. I could never get in.”
“Sure you could. I could help you if you want.” Brian downed the milk in one gulp.
“You play any sports?”
“Soccer and track. I run middle distances.”
“I could never do that.”
Brian gave him a look. “That’s the second time you said that. You could if you tried.”
A couple of boys Brian vaguely remembered from AP English were standing by the end of their table. “Hey, Kinney, don’t eat with that faggot loser. Come over with us.”
“Fuck off.” He didn’t even look up.
“What the Hell did you say?” The larger of the two seemed to be taking offense at the attitude. Brian ignored him, eating his apple. He felt a hand on his shoulder, exhaled while slightly shaking his head at the stupidity of what was happening. He looked up at the two boys, noticing that the surrounding tables had become quiet as the kids saw the confrontation in the making.
The smaller of the two new comers stepped in. “Johnnie, cut him some slack, he’s new, he doesn’t know.”
Johnnie, seemingly not wanting trouble at the moment nodded at his friend. “OK, Kinney. I’ll let it go this time because it’s your first day and you don’t know better yet. I heard that you play soccer, so I’ll see you at the sign up later.” Nodding, he sauntered away, the rest of the lunchroom returned to normal.
Brian turned back to Michael. “Who was that asshole?”
“Glen Tippy. One of the wheels around here. He’s honor roll and probably the best athlete in the class. And the girls all hang all over him.”
“He’s OK looking, nice bod.”
Michael almost did a double take at the comment, staring at Brian. Brian noticed the look he was getting. “Yeah, I’m gay—aren’t you?” His voice was pitched so that it wouldn’t carry.
Speechless for a moment, Michael just nodded, then, “How did you know?”
A shrug. “Gaydar.” The bell rang. The twenty-minute lunch period was over. “Later.” Slinging his backpack over one shoulder, Brian went off in search of AP Biology and his homeroom teacher, George Hanson.
At
“You ever play soccer before, Brian?” The kid had the build for it; he had potential even at first glance.
“I was put on the Varsity at my old school last spring.”
“You were in eight grade last spring, you couldn’t have made the squad then, son.”
He looked angry at the implication that he was either lying or mistaken. “I said that I was named to the Varsity squad last spring. That’s when they had the tryouts at my old school. I tried out for the fall team and made the first string.”
Wilkins gave him a steady look. This one had enough attitude to keep him off the squad, might be a bad influence if it wasn’t taken in hand. “Well, you’ll get a chance to show us what you can do in a few minutes. Take a seat.”
Two hours later Brian had his second Varsity posting while still just a freshman. The coach thought himself probably lucky to have the obviously talented boy and equally worried about what problems he might have just let himself in for. He’d keep a tight rein on the kid, for both their sakes.
Brian went to his main locker to get the books he needed for the night’s homework. The little kid, Mike Novatny was hanging around looking like he had been waiting.
“Brian? I saw you make the team—that’s so cool!”
“It’s alright.” He was filling his pack.
“Yeah, but Varsity as a freshman—almost no one does that. You were so great out there. All the other guys were watching you and everything.”
“Most of them suck, a few are adequate.”
That seemed to take the wind out of Mike’s sails for a couple of seconds before he found his voice again. “…You want to get a milkshake or something? I know this really great place and since you’re new I thought that you might not have found it yet.”
The last thing Brian wanted was a shake—all that fat and sugar? No way in Hell, but he could get a glass of water or something and the guy was making an overture for friendship. Well, maybe this once. He could always plead an excuse and leave. “…OK, but I can’t stay too long.”
Michael’s face lit up—finally, if he didn’t screw it up he might have a friend, a gay friend—and one like Brian Kinney.
Damn.
They walked to the diner, Brian hesitating before he would go in. The
area,
He wasn’t ready to be here and he knew that if he ran now he probably wouldn’t come back for a long time.
Shit. He wasn’t just some scared little faggot. He wasn’t.
Well, even if he was, he wasn’t about to admit it.
He lifted his chin just a shade and followed Mike through the door.
“About fucking time you got here—what the Hell took you so long?” A larger than life woman in a red wig and dressed in every color Brian had ever heard of came over to where they had taken seats at the counter. He automatically started to give the excuse/answer he always had ready in case he was ever questioned—that was something he had learned living with Jack and Joan—always be prepared.
“Brian, why didn’t you take out the garbage?” I was just about to.” “Brian, how did your shirt get wet?” “I was caught in the rain on the way home.” Brian, is your homework done?” “Yes.”
“Hi Mom, This is Brian Kinney. I was watching him try out for the soccer team. He made Varsity and he’s a freshman like me!”
She gave him a smile around her gum. “Congratulations, sweetie. That calls for a celebration! Double chocolate shake with extra whipped cream—sound good?”
He would never, in his entire life eat something like that. As God was his witness, he wouldn’t. Fuck no, not him.
“I’d like water, please.”
“Water? What the fuck kind of a celebration is that?”
“Mom, leave him along, please?”
She gave Brian a sharp look. He was used to being inspected, so he didn’t bat an eye and Debbie wondered what the hell had happened to this kid to make him seem at least ten years older than he really was. She softened he approach. “I’ll be off in half an hour, would you like to have dinner with us, Brian?”
“Thank you, but my mother expects me home for dinner.” And if he weren’t there, Jack would beat the crap out of him.
She backed down, smiled at him. It was a kind smile. “Another time, sweetie.”
She handed Brian his glass of water and Michael the glass of coke he always ordered.
“Mom? Brian is gay, too.”
He stared at the clueless elf next to him in horror, about to bolt out the door. Debbie restrained him with a hand on his arm on top of the counter and spoke to him directly and quietly.
“Brian. Sweetie. It’s OK, just about everyone in here is gay. Michael is and so is my brother. It’s not a problem here.”
He looked her straight in the eyes, despite the ridiculous wig and the awful clothes; he saw the kindness of the woman and made an almost conscious decision to accept what she said at face value.
It wouldn’t be a problem here.
She went on in the same calm voice. “And no one will tell anyone about you if you don’t want them to.” She looked at her son. “Right, Michael?”
Even he seemed to understand that this was where either he made a friend or lost one. “Right. No one has to know unless you tell them yourself.”
Brian somehow realized that he could trust these two. They wouldn’t try to hurt him and they wouldn’t betray him. They were—safe.
It was a revelation.
He nodded. “Alright.” Glancing up at the Coca-cola clock behind the counter, he said, almost reluctantly, “I have to get home.” He hesitated, looking at Debbie. “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Novatny.”
“Likewise, Brian.”
He walked out, leaving Michael and his mother. “You just met him today, sweetie?”
“He’s from
“He’s a beauty, too, kiddo. You kinda like him, don’tcha?”
Michael just looked down at the countertop. “He wouldn’t want someone like me.”
Debbie lifted his chin with her fingers. “Maybe he would, maybe not, but he needs friends and I think that boy has some problems that he hasn’t let you in on yet. You watch your step with him, you hear me?”
No answer.
“Michael, I mean it. I don’t want you in the middle of something we don’t know about yet.”
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