My Gift To You

Seven: Changing Oneself Is a Form of Improvement

Was he suppose to cry? Scream? Break something? Do anything but stand in front of the door with the wind knocked out of him? He didn’t know, let alone care. Billy was sitting on the fence between rage and despair, unable to register what just happened properly. Maybe there was something wrong with him, something that caused all of this to happen. He liked a guy back in Annapolis (nothing like how he felt for Benji), but that only ended in heartbreak and a neon sign that would constantly float above his head. The guy was straight and he found about Billy, resulting in a humiliating event one gym class. He couldn’t let that happen again.


The music was something from a bad dance club, the ruler of Cheesy Town with a beat to make you loose you lunch. People were dancing to it anyway, arms in the air and looking much like crazed monkies. Billy walked through the suffocating crowds looking for Aaron (he was the tallest, the easiest to spot), who he saw standing off in a corner with the others. He made his way toward them, his stomach doing flips, and worked up his nerve to even remotely look at Benji. There was a blonde talking to Paul about some random thing, elegant yet different, and appearing like she really didn’t want to be here. She must be Linzi. Too bad she didn’t go home when she had the chance, she was probably going to kill Billy when he didn’t make any moves on her and what-not.

“I need to talk to you.” He said firmly to Benji.

Benji looked up at Billy, raising his eyebrows.

“Alone.”

The shorter man groaned. “Make it quick, I don’t want to miss a second of this Prom.” He followed Billy out into the cafeteria and then outside, a slight chill in the air making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “What do you want?”

“Why did you do that?” Billy asked weakly, starting to walk toward the track. “Kiss me, I mean.”

“You were denying the fact that you were gay, and I had to shut you up about it somehow.” Benji answered calmly, reluctantly walking beside Billy.

He put his hands in his pants pockets. “You could’ve punched me or something... But that only proves you’re gay.”

“No, it doesn’t actually. I assumed, since you claimed to be straight, that you’d push me away the second I even stepped closer to you — any straight man would do that. It was only a test to prove that you’re gay.”

“Really? What’ll happen when we walk back inside, I pull you up on the stage and kiss you in front of all those people? You’re gay, too, you aren’t fooling anybody.” Billy asked, mindlessly heading behind a large storage shed. It felt like he had no legs to stand on, but he was going to make sense of this even if it killed him. “No straight guy would do what you did in that bathroom.”

Benji stopped walking, his usual smirk playing at his lips. “You would be kissing me. I could easily make it look like you attacked me, you’d literally have to drag me up onto that stage. Do you really think these people would believe you? It’s not like we’re all open-minded about things!” He laughed.

“They may not believe me, but your reputation — or the little of one that you have — will be gone. It doesn’t matter how long it takes you to shove me away, they won’t care. You’d be a queer just like me.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

Billy sighed. “What’s constantly pissing in your cheerios?”

“Little faggots like you who never cease to leave me alone.” Benji said angrily, taking a step forward and nearly touching chests with the taller male. Like the one time before his eyes seemed to glow softly, saddened by something. Benji started walking back toward the school, not leaving any time for Billy to decipher what exactly was going on inside Benji’s mind.

-

The sterling silver fork scrapped the bottom of the plate, moving a sliver of steak around the china. Even if Billy wasn’t a vegetarian he wouldn’t eat the cardboard tasting meat, his Father could never seem to find the right amount of time to cook food for without the result being a black block of at-one-point-it-was-edible. So he always ate the vegetables and whatever else wasn’t at once a thing with a face and played the full card before having to digest the... whatever it was suppose to be.

“How was Prom?” Mr.Martin questioned, watching his son poke and prod at his dinner.

Billy shrugged.

“That bad, huh?” Sarah giggled.

“This girl would not leave me alone, this guy was driving me insane, and I wish I had had a gun in my hand the entire night. Can I go to my room now?” Billy dropped his fork and got up from the table, hurrying to his room and shutting the door behind him. He kicked his bed, only to have pain shoot through his foot. “God-motherfucking-damnit!”

He hobbled over to the twin sized bed and sat down. Taking his right shoe off he started to rub his foot, a few tears running down his face (whether from pain, anger, or sadness he couldn’t decide). If that wasn’t bad enough, his phone ran. Billy had his own line, the number only given out to a select few, so he knew who might be trying to call him — most likely Paul checking in on how his night was. Billy let it ring.

-

It was freezing in the hair parlor, cold enough for icicles to form on one’s nose. Billy was there to talk to Joel about something (he and Benji had a job here as shampoo boys) and get his hair trimmed. He was sitting in the small waiting area, the uncomfortable plastic chair hurting his back. This was going to be the day in which he cut off his dreads and started over. Overflow crashed and burnt the other day, so now Billy could devote his attention to his new band now.

“I don’t care if you have A.D.D, Joel,” Benji said as the twins came out of the back room, “I don’t want to keep having to finish writing our songs.” He sounded more pissed off than ever.

Billy kept his head down and flipped through the pages of a magazine.

Someone sighed, most likely Joel because he started talking right after. “I can’t write all that well, but you do.” He walked over to Billy and cleared his throat to get his attention. “You’re getting your hair cut today, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Go over to Jenna’s station, the one closest to the shampoo area. She’ll cut the dreads off and then you can go to Benji for—”

“Oh no you don’t!” Benji protested, wringing a dry towel in his hands. “You wash his hair.”

Joel shook his head and lead Billy over to Jenna’s station. Sitting down in the chair Joel put the bib around Billy’s neck and snapped it into place. “I have to take care of Tabitha. Ain’t that right, Tabby?” He looked over to the waiting area and Billy heard a woman say yes in reply. “So, Benj, you get to wash Lil’ Billy’s hair today.”

Before Benji could respond, a red haired woman walked over to Billy and Joel with a smile on her face. “Thank you, Joel. You can go now.” She pumped Billy’s chair up higher and looked at him in the mirror. “Are we touching up or...”

“Cutting it all off.” He shifted in the chair, slipping slightly on the leather.

“All right. How much do you want off?”

Billy thought about this for a few moments before saying, “Almost all of it. I want to dye it and have it short, spiked.” Maybe now I can have a chance at Benji. He never dreamed that he would be sinking to this level, changing himself for another person... but he had to do this.