Tripod Chapter 8
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All rights reserved. ©2022 Jay Gilbert
"Tripod" - Chapter 8
The following morning, unlike with our normal routine, where Tyler drove to school, I walked, and Eddie rode his bike, Tyler insisted on picking Eddie and me up and driving together. This way none of us would have time alone and exposed.
We arrived at 7:45. School starts at 8:00. We walked together up the stairs and into the main hallway. For the most part, we were completely ignored. That is, until we ran into Brandon Grimes. Always ready to be Mr. Charming, Brandon looked to be his usual nasty self, with greasy hair and a snarl, but this time, he seemed to be sporting a rather large bruise by his right eye.
"Well, look who we have here. Snow Black and her two pervy dwarfs, Sodom and Gomorrah. I hear you've set up house in a hollow tree taking turns stirring the turds," he growled.
"That's right, Brandon, no virgins here. Jealous? I can't imagine any girl wanting to kiss that filthy mouth of yours. By the way, did you happen to run into a fist on your way to school? What the fuck happened to you? I asked."
Brandon flinched. "None of your fucking business," he replied. "Get the fuck out of here."
Second period chemistry was just plain weird. Mr. Choi was giving a lecture on organic chemistry, but every time he talked about chemical bonds and exchanging of electrons, he'd look over at the three of us and smile. We'd been sitting at the back of the room and when class was over, we were the last three to leave. He called us by name and we stopped.
"How's everything going, boys?"
"We're good," I said, "It's been a little rough the past couple of days, especially for Tyler and Eddie."
"Yeah, outing people on line is a really awful thing to do. So how, exactly, did Megan find out that something was going on with you guys?" Mr. Choi asked.
"It's kind of personal, Mr. Choi," said Tyler.
"It's OK. You can tell me. I'll keep it to myself," said Mr. Choi.
"Maybe some other time. We gotta run to our next class. Bye, Mr. Choi," Eddie squeaked out, before we all ran out of class.
"Really inappropriate," Tyler said. "Too bad the guy's so hot. I really wouldn't mind seeing him naked."
"Yeah, totally unprofessional. Remind me to call him the day after graduation," I laughed.
We stuck to ourselves at lunch, trying to avoid any conflicts, but just as we were finishing, Megan, Tyler's now ex-girlfriend, walks over to us. "I hope you're all very happy with yourselves," she said, smugly.
"What are you talking about? Tyler asked.
"I just got a week's detention. I guess the school has a policy about violating other students' privacy online, especially when it comes to things like outing people. They said that we should have discussed it privately."
Tyler looked at Megan and gave a small smile and said, "I'm really sorry for how we acted with you and Mia. We apologized online, too. But outing us was just plain mean. You have no idea what that can do to someone."
"Actually, I do. I also came over to say that I'm sorry. I heard what happened to you, Eddie. I was really angry and wasn't thinking straight. I'm very sorry. I hope everything's OK now," Megan said.
"Hhhow did you hear?" Eddie asked, in a panic. The last thing he wanted was for everyone to know he had thought about killing himself.
"I heard from Jessica, who heard it from Reggie, your sister. Relax. I'm not going to tell anyone and I know that Jessica is not going to tell anyone else. Reggie made her swear to keep it a secret, but she thought I should know...and she was right to tell me. I really wasn't thinking about the consequences.
Jessica Allen was Reggie's best friend. Eddie had always thought that Jessica had a crush on him, but he thought of her more like another sister than as a potential girlfriend.
"You know, Tyler," she continued, "I'm really hurt. I loved you and saw us being together for a long time. I'm not willing to share. I deserve someone who can give me all of their heart, not half of it."
Tyler looked as though he was going to melt into the chair. Eddie and I both glanced down at the floor.
Then Megan gave the slightest smile and said, "I'm not a total bitch. I don't hate you, only hate what you did to me. I'll forgive you, eventually. Just give me some time. I know that deep down you really are a good guy and I think you're cool, too, Eddie. You, too, Jaime, you kinky, little twink. I'm sure you put that weapon of yours to good use the other night." She gave me a wink, turned and walked away.
That could have been so much worse. I had had fears of a scene from one of those telenovelas that Abuela Nyanya watches, with the obligatory face slap. But we got away lucky on this one.
Tyler, Eddie and I stayed in contact throughout the afternoon, checking in to make sure nothing awful was happening. We had no classes together. No major scenes, other than some girls shaking their heads and giving "if looks could kill" looks to Tyler and Eddie.
Tyler reported that a couple of guys approached him just to tell him that being bi was no big deal to them and that we had their support.
Eddie said that Ricardo Pérez, a really hot guy with an Argentinian mom and a Cuban dad, who everyone thought was straight as an arrow, came up to him and told him that he thought Eddie was really brave...and hot, and maybe he'd like to hook up some time, on the down low, of course. That was a shocker.
Tyler and I had gymnastics practice after school and Eddie had track practice. We agreed to meet at the car at 5PM.
At 3PM, Tyler and I headed to the gym. Today we were going to concentrate on floor exercise and vault. The four other team members were already in the locker room when Tyler and I arrived. The other guys all came up to Tyler and me and gave us a group hug. We were both caught off guard by the show of solidarity. Maybe this day would end on a high note.
Tyler and I quickly changed into our team uniforms: a tight-fitting, singlet and short gym shorts. Have I mentioned that Tyler is hot? I had to look away to keep from getting hard. It's tough enough for me to hide my billy club even when it's soft.
At that moment, Coach Andriy "Andy" Melnyk walked into the locker room and called an unscheduled team meeting. He was the son of a medal-winning Ukrainian gymnast who had come to the US to train in the 90's and never left. Coach Melnyk had been born in Chicago and had competed in gymnastics in high school, but when he got to college, had decided to pursue his first loves, teaching and mathematics.
We gathered around as Coach spoke, "Since Tyler's umm...sexuality came to light this weekend, just like Jaime's did a week ago, I feel I'm overdue to address this important subject to the whole team and discuss how it will affect team unity."
Tyler and I looked at each other and I could feel my heart pound in my chest. This could turn really bad. We both love gymnastics and didn't want our careers to end here and now.
He cleared his throat and continued, "As a team, we are like brothers. And even though we are not brothers by blood, we will be there to love and support one another, no matter what. I expect, no, I demand that you show our teammate Tyler and his umm...boyfriend Jaime the same respect that you show every other one of your teammates."
Tyler spoke first, "Jaime's not my boyfriend. That would be Eddie Hondo from the track team."
Coach looked puzzled, "But I thought you and...Oh." Coach turned beet red, then stumbled on, "Well, just respect each other. Does anyone else have anything they'd like to add?"
The team captain, Seán O'Hanlon squirmed in his chair. His family on both sides were Irish through and through going back to when they first came to Chicago in the 1800's. His parents even insisted on the correct Irish spelling of his first name. Seán was about 5'8" tall with flaming red hair, ice-blue eyes, porcelain white skin and perfect teeth. He was as toned and taught as everyone else on the gymnastics team, but with a gravity-defying butt.
"I have something I want to say," Seán mumbled, "I'm gay, too."
Coach looked a bit uneasy, but said, "I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to tell us this, Seán."
Honestly, it was hardly a revelation. Even though he'd never come out publicly, he'd never had a girlfriend, despite being supremely fuckable.
Next, Ron Ianello spoke up. He was master of the still rings and really had a chance to compete at the college level. He was 5'6" tall with olive skin, brown eyes and a smile that lit up the room. "I also have something to confess," he said, "I'm into BDSM. I really get off when my girlfriend ties me up and spanks the shit out of me."
The coach looked like he was about to pass out. I don't think he'd ever expected to open up this big of a can of worms.
Then it was Cody Burke's turn. He was just a sophomore, but showed promise, as long as he didn't get any taller. He was already 5'9", pretty tall for a gymnast. "I also have something to say. I'm really proud to be a member of this team. Your honesty and hard work inspire me every day. Oh, and I've got a foot fetish. I like to jack off looking at pictures of women's feet."
Coach was turning green, but managed to squeak out, "What about you, John? Got anything to add?" "John" is John Robertson, a junior and an awesome guy on the high bar.
John sat there, eyes wide, shook his head and said, "Nope, I'm good."
The whole team laughed out loud and the coach looked relieved.
After practice, I grabbed my phone and checked for text messages. Only one:
Stinky: Meet me at my locker. We've got a problem.
I pointed it out to Tyler, who'd received the same message. We got dressed in a hurry and headed over to Eddie's locker. Eddie looked petrified. Hanging from his locker was a pink rope tied into a noose.
Anyone with even a smattering of knowledge of the history of African-Americans knows about lynching. My Mama Bernice made sure I was aware of what had happened to black people, mainly in the South. It was one of the reasons that her forebears had left Mississippi and Virginia to come to Chicago. Fortunately, in our school, every February, all history and civics classes taught about the story of people of African descent and how they contributed to world history. The sight of a noose hanging on his locker was as frightening and offensive of a symbol as any I could imagine.
We ran over to Tyler's locker, then to mine. Each one had the same pink noose hanging on it.
We took photos and removed the nooses. We'd deal with this in the morning.
After what had been a better day than expected, this was not ending well. We walked out into the parking lot and towards Tyler's car. Since most of the students had left at 3PM, the car sat alone in the lot. But before we got within fifty feet of it, Tyler screamed, "Oh, shit! Oh, fuck! My car!!"
The passenger-side window had been smashed in. The tires had been slashed. Tied to the driver's side door was a pink noose. And spray painted onto the side of the car was, "Die nigger. Die faggots."
End Chapter - 8