It was a new year and I had a new outlook. Upon my reluctant
return to Savannah from winter break at the Winter Cottage, my name for my
parent’s Alabama house, I made a sincere internal promise to myself to
genuinely try to be nice to Carson. Not only because I felt it may help easy
some of the tension in Zach and my friendship, which it did, but also because I
had realized the errors of my ways and after all, Carson was human and deserved
to be treated like one. For the first time since the Faithful Night, our
apartment was almost back to normal and tension free; which was due in no small
part from me ignoring all but the most serious transgressions made by either
Zach or Carson
At some point early on in the semester, Carson fell ill. I had
always been a natural born caregiver for my family whenever they did not feel
well. Like it or not, living with someone for almost a year makes you view them
almost like family. Ergo, when Carson got sick it was only a shock to him that
I was the one who actually gave a damn. I routinely check on him, I think I
even made him soup on one occasion, and got onto John and Zach when they were
loud playing hallway soccer—I was even shocked when I did the last one. Even
when I heard about Hunter telling Carson’s mom, who was completely in the dark,
about the whole situation and her son being gay I could not even enjoy it.
Okay, maybe I did enjoy it a little, but I was still pissed off at Hunter for
doing that. It was not his place to tell Carson’s mother and that act began
somewhat of a war.
Zach was my best friend and Carson and I were a lot closer
than Hunter and I, albeit mostly due to geography, but I still could understand
where Hunter was coming from. Hunter had loved him, and he had hurt Hunter. I
had been there, granted with different pronouns, and I sympathized with Hunter;
but Zach was my best friend. At some point Hunter broke Carson’s cell phone,
which Hunter’s mother paid for, and somehow Carson got them to replace it. When
Hunter came to give Carson his new phone he wanted to talk, I believe to just
Carson but Zach was not going to go for it. They decided to meet at a neutral
location, and I insisted on coming so that I could make sure neither party did
anything stupid. Besides, I have always been a wee-bit nosey and based on Zach
and Carson’s accounts Hunter had been acting pretty crazy since the breakup and
I did not want to miss the show if he finally broke. It is always fun to be
around crazy people, you never know what the hell they are going to do next. As
it turns out, Hunter just wanted to talk and try to mend things more or less
and move on, especially seeing as how we had all made our class schedules so
that we would all have classes together. Instead of mending, Zach was more
interested in ostracization and I continued my buffer role during classes,
making sure that Hunter never had the opportunity to talk to either of them.
At some point, after the phone ordeal hunter’s mother had
found out that whole situation and realized how Carson had been using her and
her son all along and took back the phone. Following this, after discussing it
with me, Zach and I decided that it was time to purge our apartment of Hunter—a
sort of rapid detox for Carson. All of Hunter’s art work which had previous
adorned our walls found a new home in the coat closet and a certain unfortunate
fate came to one item in particular. Hunter had made a puppet called Lucas
Fluffy Owl and given it to Zach earlier in the year, when we were all still
friends. During our purge though, poor Lucus was burnt to a crisp, disemboweled,
and mutilated until when finished he was only a smoldering pile of charred
fabric and stuffing.
A few days after the Lucas Fluffy Owl butchering, Zach told
me that he planned to take a last minute trip back home to see his grandfather
who had fallen ill and wanted to know if I wanted to go home for the weekend. I
was more than thrilled at the opportunity, because being nice was taking its
toll on me and I missed my family, even more than ever since my return from
winter break. After getting out of Spanish class early the next morning, I
called my mum to tell her the good news and arrange for her to come and get me
at my brother’s house. As I talked to my mum and paced the hallway, I noticed
that somebody was in John and Carson’s shower. I did not think anything of it;
I figured that it was just Carson, since John had early classes. My mum was in
the middle of telling me that she had some sort of religious women’s conference
that weekend and could not come get me as I walked into the kitchen. I turned
around and headed back down the hall when the bathroom door opened and to my
slight startle out stepped Zach drying off his hair. Still I did not think
anything about it, but was perplexed as to why he was not using our shower. I
said hey to him, but nothing else because I was still on the phone with my mum working
out that I would instead stay at my brother’s house for the weekend. When I
came back down the hall a second time, I did not even think twice about Carson
stepping out of the bathroom carrying a wet towel. As I said good morning to
him, it hit me and I just stood there stunned before going into my room to tell
my mum what had happened. I was shocked at their audacity; they were taking
joint showers together in John and
Carson’s bathroom. You don’t just take
showers with someone to better exfoliate your back. Especially in that cramped
stand-up shower stall, the hassle would out way the benefits unless there is
another reason…they better not used my tub.
After getting off the phone with my mum, I went to talk to
Zach and he reassured me that they had never showered together in my bathroom. Something
about having more respect for me and knowing I would have flipped a noodle,
still I had expected them to have more respect for John than that. As Zach
pointed out though, “John never has to know.” I was relieved that it was not
nor never had been my bathroom, but still should I tell John? Zach had more or
less left it at my discretion. I was not certain if I was going to or not, but
then I remembered how much John loved reminding me that only a few 2x4s and a
couple of pieces of sheetrock separated my room from Carson’s, where they both
slept and presumptively did other things. I decided that I was going to hold
off until he brought that back up. However, I made the mistake of telling Laura,
our neighbor and friend, about it and she, “just wanted to see his face,” and
forced me to tell him that night or else she was going to tell him. I decided
to go ahead, because he at least disserved to hear it from me, and as it turns
out it was rather humorous to see his face. Whenever Zach and Carson came home
that evening John was waiting. He did not get too mad, but insisted on trading bathrooms. I was rather happy
about that, I got a new shower sharer, one that I knew was slightly OCD when it
came to cleanliness and would actually help me keep the bathroom clean—or most
likely do it all himself—unlike Zach.
Later that night, on the eve of our departure, John and I
were discussing our new bathroom situation as he moved his stuff in when we, or
more he, got the sudden hankering to redecorate and clean. Zach had never had
the best hygiene in the world, nor was he the cleanest person—which is why I
got stuck sharing a bathroom with him—and since John was a little OCD about germs and
stuff, he wanted to replace the shower curtain and clean the bathroom really
good. We made a midnight trip to Wal-Mart to pick out a new shower curtain, and
ended up with a new shower curtain, bathroom mat, a shower caddy, and cleaning
supplies. When we got back, John went to town scrubbing the hell out of the
tub, floor, and toilet; I was so happy to have a neat-freak for a roommate,
because I have not seen the bathroom shine that much since…well ever.
We woke up Zach in the process of our cleaning, but he did
not mind too much and we spent the rest of the night talking and laughing and
having a good ole’ time, like we used to. Carson was still asleep, but that
ended around 4 AM when we laughed a little too loud at John wondering off and
me accidentally stumbling in on him taking a bubble bath. Apparently, Zach was
already pissed off at him for something, because when he tried to go back to
sleep Zach went and banged on the door and would not let him. I figured that
since Zach was doing it, it would be okay for my nice behavior toward Carson to
slip a little. Besides, none of us except Carson had slept at all since the
night before so we all were running on caffeine and adrenaline.
After Carson finally fully woke up and stopped being cranky,
we all bundled up, seeing as how it was early February, and made the cold
morning trek across campus to the dining hall to get some breakfast before
getting ready for our journey home. While at breakfast, I felt bad about my
break from the nice path so I singled out Carson and apologized for being a
dick earlier. I also figured that since a lot of it was due to an impairment in
judgment caused by lack of sleep I would go ahead and apologize for any further
transgressions during the rest of the day. But, I promised I would try not to
have any. After a good hardy high-spirited breakfast in which I ate way too
much, we returned to our apartment to pack and get ready.
Originally, it was only supposed to be Zach and me on the
trip. Then Molly joined our party, which allowed for us to have such a
rambunctious night before, since she was going to drive her car. Carson had
wanted to tag alone, and originally he was going to but he had class and Zach
refused to wait around. Then his class was canceled and he only had to turn in
a paper, but still Zach did not want him to come. Then Zach and Carson went
into a room by themselves and when they came out and Carson was coming with us,
but Zach was not happy about it. As I later found out, Carson had cheated on
Zach with either Hunter, or someone else, and Zach had found out and that was
why he was being pissy toward Carson and did not want him to come. Since the only
person left to babysit Carson was John, who could care less, Zach had to let
him come or risk him sleeping with someone else. What a wonderful relationship they have.
The trip up there was not too bad; Carson sat up front with
Molly while Zach and I shared the back seat. This arrangement was a win-win for
Zach and me; he did not want to sit beside his cheating lover and I did not
want to sit beside either of the two front passengers. We had not even gotten
on the interstate before Molly pulled out her phone and started to text someone
while driving. Concerned with my own safety, and for the most part just wanting
to be an annoyance, I pointed out how it was illegal to text and drive in the
state of Georgia. She reminded me that it was her car and continued to text
again. A few seconds later I realized my phone was buzzing and I had two text
message from Molly the last one saying, “I was texting you dumbass.” I check
the previous one and it was about her not wanting to sit beside Carson and in
general was unhappy that he was there. I
thought I was the only one, other than John, who did not like him. We
talked further all the way home; she noted how Zach was not the same person
since Carson—and to think I had always thought it was only me being paranoid. I
told her how I did not have anybody to talk to anymore and I missed my old
friend. She asked me why I did not talk to John, we were both going through the
same stuff, he probably needed someone to talk to just as much as I did, and we
might become close friends. She was right, and I had been talking more and more
with John, and John and I had grown pretty close over the past months. John and
I had become good friends and I had figured out he was not as superficial or
dim-witted as Zach had once made him out to be, but as I put it to her, “John
is a poor replacement for Zach.”
During our conversation, I think somewhere around Macon, I
came up with an ingenious metaphor to describe the Zach and Carson dynamic. Zach
was like Anakin Skywalker and Carson was like Darth Sidious. Darth Carson was
slowly turning the good person that I once knew as Zach into an evil bastard,
as Sidious had done with Darth Vader. After I realized this and that Zach was
allowing it to happen, as Molly pointed out, I became upset with Zach and all
of the stuff I had been holding in started to run through my mind. Now I know how Obi-Wan felt.
They dropped me off at my brother’s house and I was super
excited about the weekend that lay ahead. My brother and I had planned to party
that weekend, since it had been a while since I had spent any substantial
amount of time with him and I had not seen our friend Tyler since I started
college. We were originally going to have a two-night bonfire party, but Tyler
was not going to make it Friday night. Instead, our neighbors had a bonfire and
we chilled and drank with them. It was fun; a sixty-something year old became
my hero when she funneled her first beer. At some point during the
night, or at least say during the trip because most of it is a little fuzzy, I
told my brother about my two gay roommates. He replied, “I told you Carson was
queer, I didn’t think Zach was though…I guess I could see him pitching for the
other team.”
It was in the afternoon of the next day when Tyler finally
showed up. One of the first acts of business for the night was to go to the
liquor store. I had realized that if I was going to keep up the nice guy
routine much longer, that I was going to have to stock up on alcohol while at
my brother’s. Fortunately, a few weeks before, my refund check had come in at
my brother’s house and I had gotten a good bit back. We went to the local
liquor store and I spent around $200, and came out with a box full of every
liquor I could think of, except vodka because I hate vodka, and a case of Bud
Light that I planned on taking back. I wanted to make sure that if things went
bad, I had enough to at least make me not give a damn for a while. On our way,
back we stopped by the convenient store to pick up another case of beer for the
night and Tyler bought a watermelon Four Loco. We were going to have a hell of
a night ahead of us.
We built a fire, broke out the beer, and all got to feeling good.
We spent most of the night laughing at Tyler, especially after he started
drinking the Four Loco. He told me, or rather more slurred to me, a joke that I
found quite humorous. This is not really saying that much since I have always
been a happy laugh-at-everything drunk, but this joke stuck with me and it goes
something like this:
“….Hey, did you know it ain’t rape if you say SURPRISE!”
“No Tyler, I didn’t… what is it then?”
“It’s SURPRISE
sex!” really stress the surprise part.
As the night wore on, Tyler began to talk about his
relationship and then called his girlfriend, at around midnight, and to all our
humor yelled “SURPRISE!” before she hung up on him. Apparently Four Locos gave
him nerves of steel, or at least stupidity, because after that there was an incident
that involved him willingly violating the fire and burning himself before I rolled him out.
Sunday I had to be up early so that we could get back for
“something” as I was told when I drunk dialed Zach Saturday night. It turned out to be the Super Bowl—shows
how much I pay attention to sports. I woke up early with a headache from hell
and drank a beer for breakfast, because there was nothing else to drink. I packed
my suitcase full of my entire haul; except the case of beer, which would not
fit, and was donated to my brother. When finished it looked more like a
portable bar that luggage, with most of my clothes being thrown in a garbage
bag. When I was finally finished packing I drank another beer, for hydration,
while I waited on Zach, Carson, and Molly to get there. After a while of
waiting and wondering if they forgot me, I drank another, and another. Well
into the afternoon, they finally showed up and I was feeling pretty good.
Somewhere around Macon, as I sat there staring out the window, I remembered the
joke Tyler had told me the night before. I told them the joke and as I ended
it, I started to laugh and realized that everyone else was deathly quiet and
Zach was staring at me: pissed.
Suddenly in my mind, I flashed back to one year before. Zach
and I were sitting on the old red couch in the living room/kitchen of our old
apartment. It was late, and all of the lights were off except the neon Camel
cigarette sign that hung over our heads and we were the only people there. I do
not exactly remember how we had come upon the subject, but now Zach was sitting
there crying as he told me about his pseudo stepfather. According to Zach, one
day he came home from school and the stepdad had fixed him a bowl of cereal. Who the hell just randomly fixes someone a
bowl of cereal? What Zach did not know was that within the cereal was some
sort of a sedative that would leave him incapacitated. After he was sedated, the
stepdad forced him to perform analingus in both orifices. He had never told
anyone about this event, until now. At first, he did not want to say it; but
eventually he finally said it, “He raped me.”
Now I sat there in silence with Zach staring directly at me
stunned at what I had just said. There was really nothing that I could do. The
joke was barely funny at best under the sobering light of day; but apparently,
it was not funny at all to him. Everyone in the car knew about what had happened
with Zach’s pseudo stepdad; and apparently, they did not find the joke too
funny either. After a long moment of silence I finally asked, “What?” to Zach. “You
know exactly what,” he responded. He had never much liked even the
slightest rape joke, or even reference; he always took as it was directed at
him. He
had once gotten pissed at me for calling my referee whistle “my rape whistle”
in joking reference to how I enjoyed blowing really loud warbles as we walked
across campus to and from games. I did not know what to say, and I was still a
wee-bit tipsy, so I ran with the first justification I could think of, “Did he
say surprise?” I could tell he did not like where this was going by the tone in
which he answered, “No.”
“Then it wasn’t surprise sex, you were raped.” Probably
not the best route to take in hindsight. He really did not like that and I had
to deal with his scorn. Finally after a fair amount of bitching, I was about to
concede that I should not have made the joke.
“I just thought it was remotely funny is all,” I said.
“It is funny, even I have said it before, but you shouldn’t
make jokes like that,” he replied.
I almost did not catch it, and was stunned for a moment
when I finally did, “Did you say that you’d said the exact same joke before?”
“Yeah, I thought it was funny.”
“So it is alright for you to make rape jokes, but anyone
else does, you get all pissy.”
“Yeah.”
All I could think about was the N-word. It had
always bothered me that there was a double standard based on race. I have
always felt that if the word, or in this case joke, is so offensive then you
too probably should not say it. Before I even really thought about it I had
already said, “You’re a fucking hypocrite.” After a brief squabble in which
Zach tried to justify the double standard and I tried to explain how he was
wrong, I further realized how hypocritical he was. He wanted me to once again
admit I was wrong, but could not admit that he was wrong also. I finally told
him, “Whatever, I’m done!” and did not say another word to him.
Not too many minutes passed before my phone began to buzz
and it was Molly texting me. I really
wish she would pay attention to the road. It only had one word, “Really?” I
still did not understand exactly why he had gotten so upset. Sure, it was a bad
joke, but damn! According to Molly, he was already upset with me because I had
“been mean to Carson lately.” I replied something to the effect of, “What the
fuck! That is bullshit! I have done everything I can to be nice to him. I have all
but bent over and taken it up the ass to remain his friend. I have changed who
I am, been nice, apologized countless times and he can’t even admit he is wrong
just once and now he goes and lies. I can’t do it anymore. I am through! HE IS
A LYING HYPOCRITICAL BASTARD WHO CAN GO DIE AND BURN IN HELL FOR ALL I CARE.
I’M DONE!”
I had a long relatively silent car ride after that; I put in my headphones and turned them all
the way up, I did not even want to hear his voice, and I did not speak all the
way home. I was lost in thought, only interrupted by texts from Molly, as I
stared out the window at the passing signs. I was so thankful for the internal
solitude that my iPod gave me during the car ride, with it I was able to
isolate myself from my surroundings and really reflect on everything in the
past and what now lay ahead of me. I just could not do it anymore; I could not
be the only one in our friendship who gave in. I had been thinking about this
for a while now, but it had happened sudden and unexpectedly.
First, there was Carson. How
could he possibly conceive that I have been mean to Carson? I’ve went out of my way to be nice to him.
I even texted John to see if he had any idea, he did not. Now there was no real
reason for me to continue to be nice to him. Zach was choosing to act as he was
acting; it was not Carson’s fault. To stop being nice now would only validate
Zach’s argument. What about Zach and me,
is this really the end? No matter what happened, I was not apologizing for
anything until he did, if he never did then fine. I could no longer be friends
with someone who was acting like that. I could handle a hypocrite, but he was
lying, something that I cannot tolerate. Until he apologized, or broke-up with Carson
and stopped being an ass, our friendship was over. I was hopeful that he would,
but also knew how stubborn he could be. Well
at least I have John; he may be “a poor replacement for Zach”; but obviously,
that hasn’t worked so well lately. This thing between Zach and I could
easily spill over into our personal lives and affect the people around us:
especially John, Laura, and Morgan. Look
at how much crap the war with Hunter has caused, and this will only be worst
since we live together. I could not put them through that, especially John.
I did not want to try to force him or anyone else, to choose sides; this battle
was between Zach and me and hopefully we could keep it that way. I was not
going to be juvenile like Zach and Carson had been with Hunter. I was not going
to turn my friends into pawns in our game. I decided not even to go into detail
about what happened. It was not good enough to simply win this battle; I was
going to do it with class and integrity.
A wave of relief flew over me as we pulled into a parking
space at the school. It was a relief to be back in Savannah, and most of all
out of that car with him. I did not
say a word to anyone, except to thank Molly for the ride, as I retrieve my
alcohol laden suitcase and bag of clothes from the trunk and proceeded down the
long sidewalk to our building with it clanking behind me. Zach and Molly did
not stay long at our apartment, they soon left and Carson wondered off
somewhere. I had to show off my wares to John, my drinking buddy, and as I did
so, I told him the bare minimum of what had happened so that he was not caught
off guard. Then we made ourselves a drink,
I had offered up every bit of my stock to share with him, and sat back
and relaxed and watched the Super Bowl. Sometime during the game, I went across
the hall to Laura and Morgan’s apartment and found where Carson had wondered. I
asked him, mostly out of curiosity but also because maybe I was wrong, “Have I
been mean to you in any way lately?”
He replied, “No, not at all. You have actually been
surprisingly human to me.”
It is complete “Henceforth, you shall
be known as Darth...Vader.”
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