West doesn’t let go of me. His hand stays tight on my waist as a circle forms around us, and it starts to hit me. This is it. This is what I was hoping for, and we’re actually pulling it off. He angles away from the others and presses his lips to my ear. “You’re smiling. I didn’t know you could do that.”
Damn. I am.
I hate that I am, but this acceptance … actually feels good.
Our eyes meet. “I forbid you to tell anyone.”
He mimes locking his lips, and a moment passes between us that makes my pulse kick up a notch.
Clayton’s loud voice breaks us apart. “Look, it’s Fuckstain.” He points at the screen, and when I look up … my stomach bottoms out. I want to cover West’s eyes, but when I hear him swear under his breath, I know it’s no use.
I don’t have any photos of myself from when I was younger, and apparently, I’d forgotten how bad it was. I stare up at myself and swallow against the emotion clogging my throat.
That pathetic soul actually looks happy. I’ve been caught mid-smile. My open mouth has my overbite on full display, acne wrinkles my cheeks, and the combination of a shaved head and large glasses makes my ears stick right out.
I feel my nostrils flare as I stare up at myself, willing the photo to disappear.
“Hey, Dalton, bet he didn’t tell you he used to look like that.”
Laughter breaks out around us. It echoes in my ears.
That momentary acceptance I’d felt a few minutes ago disappears as everyone shoots sideways looks my way.
“Just need the bathroom,” I manage to say.
Then I get the hell away.
Because the only thing worse than being humiliated again in front of those assholes … is being humiliated in front of West.
11
West
Okay, when Jasper said he’d changed since high school, and when the others didn’t recognize him right away, I thought that maybe they were exaggerating. Or maybe they couldn’t remember him properly. But as I stare up at this kid on the screen—wide mouth, big bug eyes, and the shaved head—it really is hard to comprehend it’s the same guy.
I wish I could say things would be different for Jasper if he’d been born two decades later than he was, but let’s face it, he was at school in a time before social media. It would only be ten times worse today. Maybe not the physical bullying, but online hate is as damaging, if not worse.
The others are all still laughing at him, and I realize nothing has changed. Me being here hasn’t made them respect Jasper any more than they ever would have.
“Excuse me too,” I say and take a step.
“Guess you should go make sure he’s not crying in the bathroom,” one of the assholes snickers.
“Oh, going to the bathroom is actually a code we came up with for anytime we’re horny. Give us fifteen before any of you follow, unless you want to see me on my knees sucking my boyfriend’s dick.”
Their mouths drop, probably from the sheer bluntness, but fuck them. Hold on to your pearls, kids.
I head for the bathroom, but it’s empty when I get there. I glance down the long hall toward an exit, but I doubt Jasper would leave without telling me.
To my right, there’s a corner, and as I turn it, I find Jasper standing in the middle of a corridor with lockers lining either side.
He reaches out and runs his hand over the cool metal, and when I get to him, he looks like he’s writing an invisible word. “This was my locker, but it’s … fixed now.”
“Fixed?”
“The f-word was carved right here. And I don’t mean ‘fuck.’” He does the motion again and then drops his hand. “Why did I think I could come back here? Why did I think anything would be different simply because I look like this now?” He gestures to himself.
“Because you were under the impression they hated you for your looks and the fact you were gay when I think the real reason they hated you and picked on you is because they could.”
He turns to me. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not going to give you the Disney special where I tell you they were jealous of your brain in any way, because I have to be honest, us hockey players don’t care about brains. Or having them.”
“I’ve noticed,” Jasper says dryly.
“But everyone knows the easiest way to feel better about yourself is to put other people down. And you were an easy target. It’s as simple as that. They’re assholes, and you deserve to be treated better.”
His lips purse, and I don’t think he believes me.
“Okay, now I am going to get all Disney special on your ass: the only person you need to have validation from is yourself.”