I Hate You.pdf

I Hate You - Bryan's Side

"I hate you," were the last words spit at me as Justin slammed the door

closed on me and our friendship. To say I was stunned would have been an

understatement. I didn't even notice when Tina slipped on her clothes, kissed

me on the cheek and left, saying, "I'd better go." My best friend had just

stormed out of my life, and I didn't know why.

Taking English 201 while the sun was shining, and there was a soft breeze,

and the temperature was 85 degrees, was torture. Don't get me wrong, I

loved language, I spoke three fluently. Of course, being a Theater Major, my

primary interest was the spoken word. That was why I was taking English

201 over the summer; I wanted to clear up my schedule for more

performance credits.

Most everyone else was there because they were retaking the course. I

thought that was pitiful. There were three of us who really cared about the

subject. One was Gloria; she was from Argentina and English was her

second language. The other was Justin; he was a freshman who had CLEPed

his way through his 100 level English courses and came to the University a

semester early. He wanted to be a writer and we hit it off from the

beginning.

Of course, we were an odd pair. I'm "Mr. Social". Nearly everyone in the

theater program knew me or knew of me. Hell, I was recognized all over

campus. If someone had me in their class they remembered it. Justin was a

geek. Saying Justin was a geek was like calling a trout a fish. He was almost

the classic, academic nerd. Justin was a short, wiry guy with unruly brown

hair, glasses that did nothing for his face and clothes that were best

described as "skater geek". His one non-academic pastime was his board. It

was the only part of Justin that broke the geek mold. His board was as much

a fixture for him as his book bag and laptop.

The first time I saw him really skating, not just using the board as a quick

ride from class to class, was about mid-semester. I was heading down to the

fields for a Saturday morning game of Frisbee when I caught sight of a small

group of skaters using one of the twisting sections of the back lot to do

tricks.

I'd been so impressed by one guy catching air off the steps that I didn't

notice I was walking into a "skate zone."

"Look Out!" I spun out of the way and hit the grass. When I looked up,

ready to curse the careless son-of-a-bitch out, I saw Justin looking down at

me. "Hey, Bryan, you ok?"

He looked so different standing there, shirtless without his glasses, that I

almost hadn't recognized him. He was a wiry little fuck. He had laughing

eyes that were all but hidden when he wore his glasses.

"Damn, Justin." I got up and brushed myself off. "I know you like me, but

you don't have to plow me into the dirt to get my attention."

Justin looked down. "Yeah, sorry Bryan." He turned to head back to the start

of the skate run.

Why'd it bother me that he thought I was mad at him? "Hey, how long you

going to skate?"

Shrugging, he looked at his watch. "Another half hour I guess. Asphalt will

be too hot to do anything after that."

"Some guys are getting together for Frisbee down on the field. Why don't

you come down after you're done?" He was a bit short but if he had the

moves that'd make up for it.

He blinked at me. "Really?"

"Yeah, I'll even hang while you finish your freaky shit." The smile he gave

me in response just melted me. It wasn't sexual, I like girls, but he was just

such a cute kid that it was like having a puppy.

He impressed me that morning. Justin was an ace on four wheels. He could

do spins, jumps, twists, ride railings, and there didn't seem to be anything he

couldn't do on a board. That sure blew away my original idea that he was a

simple geek. I think he was showing off, but it worked. I couldn't stop

complimenting his skill as we got down to the games field.

"I just can't believe a bookworm like you can skate like that."

He beamed. "Dad insisted that I had to be outside doing something 'physical'

any day it wasn't raining. I hated team sports so I just rode my board around.

After a while, I just got into it."

I laughed and waved at the guys. "Hey guys, this is Justin."

They all greeted Justin with smiles. I looked at our group and realized we

could play teams of three.

"Want to do teams?" The affirmative nods went all around but Justin looked

a bit unsure. I smiled and put my hand on Justin's shoulder. "Well, since

Just's already shirtless, we'll be skins."

Tony decided he'd go skins since he was shirtless too. Teams were set.

Smiling, I handed my Frisbee to Justin and peeled off my shirt. When I

tossed my shirt beside his board, he just watched with a wide-eyed wonder.

He probably couldn't believe I'd just take him on my team sight-unseen. I

laughed and mussed his hair. "Come on, squirt, let's teach these lard-asses

that brains and beauty always wins over brawn."

Everyone laughed but I think I put Justin on the spot. He blushed. He did

play like a pit bull though. His throwing arm sucked, but he wasn't afraid to

dive and roll so he could catch a hell of a lot of tosses the others would let

go by. We didn't win, but it was not for a lack of effort.

That was when we started hanging together more. We made Saturday

morning board and game a ritual. Justin would skate till the asphalt got

uncomfortably hot and then we'd head for the fields for a Frisbee or V-ball

game. He tried to get me on the board a few times. All I ended up doing was

breaking my ass on the pavement, and trying to look like I meant to do it. Of

course, I got him back. I got to spike him into the sand more than a couple

times in V-ball. It was kind of like sibling rivalry; I loved it. I'd always

wanted a kid brother, and Justin fit the bill perfectly.

It was near the end of the summer session when I got my room assignment

and realized I'd lucked out; I didn't have a roommate. Justin had gotten

placed in one of the older dorms, Brownstone Hall; the place sucked. We

were having lunch just before exams week when I decided I didn't like the

idea of living alone.

"Just," I asked between bites of my hotdog, "would you like to room

together?"

I thought he was going to choke. I should have waited till he'd finished

swallowing his bite of burger. He dropped his burger on his plate and took a

huge swig of Coke. He blinked back the usual tears from just having

something try to dive down the wrong pipes and coughed. "You mean it?"

He looked at me like I'd just offered him a winning lottery ticket.

"Yeah. My freshmen roommate sucked, and since you didn't sign up for

anyone you know you're going to be in a crapshoot for whom you get." I

shrugged. "We get along, and there's a chance they'll stick me with some

jerk at the last minute. At least with you, I know this year I'll like my

roomie."

He smiled; the only thing ruining his puppy-dog look were those fucking

glasses. "You don't mind rooming with a freshman?" For a guy who really

had decent, if odd, taste in clothes, why he wore glasses out of the sixties

was lost on me.

Laughing I punched him in the arm. "Nah, you're a geek but you make me

laugh!"

Stafford Hall was a major step up from Brownstone. In Brownstone, there

were two community bathrooms per floor. The rooms were like sardine cans.

The only saving grace was the ceilings were high enough for people to loft

their beds. Rooms in Stafford were larger and one bathroom was shared

between two dorm rooms. As with every college student with obsessions,

Justin and I had to decorate our halves of the room with examples of our

interests. My half had posters of Shakespeare in the Park, Le Miz, Phantom,

and Rocky Horror. Don't ask me why I love Rocky but I do; something

about the expressive freedom and audience participation was just a natural

high for me. Justin put up a poster of Mark Twain, one that listed the

requirements of creativity, and a couple pro skater posters. Along with the

picture of his parents, he had a picture of a skater catching air. At first I

thought it was a picture of Justin, but the guy had darker, longer hair.

"Hey, Justin, who's the skater?" I nodded to the picture as he stuffed his

socks and underwear into his dresser.

He came over and picked up the picture. His fingers traced it. "That's Matt,

Matt Thompson. He was my best friend." I don't know why, but the

whimsical, almost longing smile that touched his lips when he said it made

me jealous.

I bit back the stupid feeling. "Was?"

He just sighed and set the picture back down. "Yeah. He was a year ahead of

me in school so I haven't seen him in over a year." Shrugging, he grabbed

some shorts and opened a drawer. "We still email, but he went to school up

north. Since I started University in the summer, I haven't seen him since

Christmas Break."

"That's less than a year." I smirked and tried to keep the mood light but it

didn't work.

"Yeah, but he'd met someone and all he could do was think and talk about

'love'." He sounded a little bitter as he stuffed his shorts in the drawer. "I'm

happy for him, but it felt like I wasn't even there."

The way his shoulders seemed to sag with the memory got me down. I liked

his normal, bouncy self. He was a puppy, and when he moped it was just as

bad as having a golden retriever pup that looked lonely. I draped my arm

over his shoulders and mussed his hair. "Well, you've got me now. I won't be

graduating and leaving you behind."

His smile nearly sparkled as he looked up at me. "You're the greatest,

Bryan."

I laughed and went back to my unpacking. "Yeah, it's hard to be perfect, but

someone has to do it." Oh yeah, I'm modest too.

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