The Cat That Went to Homecoming (13 page)

I came up for air and had to tell myself this
wasn’t a dream. Now he had both hands across my lower back.

“What are we doing, Brandon?” I half
whispered.

He leaned close so we were nose to nose and
whispered, “We’re making out.” His mouth found my neck and I
whispered, “Oh…”

Someone pounded on the table and said, “Hey,
look who we have here, boys?” Brandon and I both looked up to see a
group of guys surrounding our booth. Brandon rolled his eyes and
groaned.

“Who’s your friend here, Brandon?” The leader
of the group said, “Does she know she’s kissing a fag?” The rest of
the group laughed and Brandon moved me back into the booth. He slid
out and faced the leader.

“Walk away, Jason,” Brandon said in a
frighteningly angry tone that would make me run from him, but Jason
didn’t even blink.

“Walk away or what, queer boy? You wanna take
this outside?” He laughed in Brandon’s face and I could see
Brandon’s hands clenching into fists. “I have to say though, she’s
really hot. Maybe she’d like to go at it with a real man, like
me.”

Brandon’s right hook came up like a flash and
hit Jason square in the face. His head snapped to the side and
blood spouted out.

“No!” I screamed as I tried to climb out of
the booth to grab him, but it was too late. Three of the other guys
jumped in and all hell broke loose. I was shouting “Stop it!” and
waving my arms around like an idiot. Cindy was suddenly at my side
pulling me away from the brawl while security guards rushed in and
tore the guys apart. They were dragged out of the building and the
manager of the place tried to break up the group of gawkers milling
around.

“Move along folks, it’s over. There’s nothing
to see here.”

Cindy sat me back in the booth. “What the
heck happened?” she asked.

“I don’t know! Some jerk came over and
started a fight with Brandon.” I didn’t tell her about the kissing
part.

“Was it Jason?” she asked.

“Yes, Brandon called him Jason. Why did they
pick a fight with him? I don’t understand this.” I was so confused.
One minute I was having my first make-out session, and the next
minute my make-out companion smashed someone in the face.

“Did Brandon tell you about his dad?” Cindy
asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Brandon has been harassed by Jason and his
friends for years because of the situation with his dad. Jason is a
mean son-of-a-bitch; he’s the Darcel of St. Augustine High. He
knows he can push Brandon’s buttons and start a fight.

“Cindy, Brandon isn’t gay,” I said. “I can
tell you from personal experience, he isn’t gay.”

“Jason has everyone they know convinced that
he is. Jason has pretty much ruined Brandon’s social life. Girls at
St. Augustine won’t go out with Brandon. All the guys joke around,
claiming he stares at them in the locker room. It’s a bad
situation.”

That was sad! I had no idea Brandon was
bullied. He was attractive. He was the kind of guy every girl at my
school would swoon over with an athletic build, dark hair and brown
eyes. His eyelashes were amazingly lush. Brandon was also a very
unselfish soul, friendly and kind.

“Cindy, we have to go find him,” I said,
“They escorted him outside, so he must be waiting by his car for
us.”

Cindy scooted out of the booth and I
followed. When we exited the building, we were greeted by police
squad cars. Brandon was surrounded by two police officers,
questioning him. Jason and his crew were talking to two other
police officers.

“What the heck is going on?” I asked aloud
but to no one in particular. Cindy looked as shocked as I felt.

“Hmm, looks like little Miss Watermelon got
her gay friend in a bit of trouble,” Darcel said. She approached
Cindy and me, blowing out a puff of cigarette smoke. Apparently the
partiers from “the party spot” had heard the ruckus and came out of
their hiding place to check it out.

Darcel dropped the cigarette to the ground,
stomped it out, and looked me up and down. “Boy, put a little cheap
makeup on lard ass and she thinks she’s all that.” Darcel pulled a
bottle of beer out of her coat pocket and took a swig from it.

“Shut up, Darcel, this is not the time,”
Cindy said. Darcel just laughed in her face and leaned in towards
me.

“You think your mom is the only clever bitch
in town? Well guess again fatso.” After she said that, she placed
the beer bottle at my feet and walked off towards Jason and the
police.

My mind was so busy trying to figure out what
she was getting at that I didn’t see she had set me up. She walked
up to the cops and said something. They looked in my direction.
Then one of them started walking towards us.

“Excuse me young lady, is that your bottle on
the ground?” he asked me.

I looked around at first, thinking he was
talking to someone else. “Are you talking to me?” I asked
incredulously.

“Are you in any way involved with the
incident that happened here tonight?”

“Involved? I don’t understand what you mean,”
I stuttered. “I came here with Brandon tonight, but as far as that
fight is concerned, I had no part in it.”

“I’ll ask you one more time, does this beer
bottle belong to you?”

“No, it’s not hers. It was put there by that
blonde girl that approached you,” Cindy chimed in. “She’s trying to
set my friend up.”

“I’ll need to take statements from the two of
you,” he said in a very official tone that scared the heck out of
me. Was I going to be arrested?

“Can I please call my mom?” I asked.

“You just might want to do that. Your friend
Brandon will be going to the station with us and you’ll need
another ride home,” he said.

Holy crap! This night could have ended on a
much better note than this. I reached my mom and gave her a brief
rundown of the events of the night. She was upset, but she would
pick us up. There was no rush. We had to give statements to the
cops.

The police officer introduced himself as
Officer Long. I told him my side of the story. I wasn’t sure if I
should leave out the kissing part; I mean, it isn’t illegal to kiss
in public, is it? At any rate, I told them that Brandon and I were
minding our own business and sharing a kiss when Jason and his crew
interrupted us. I fibbed then, telling them things happened so fast
that I did not see who threw the first punch. When he inquired
about the beer bottle, I told him Darcel was the one that put it
there. I pleaded with him to give me a Breathalyzer test. That
would prove to him that the bottle wasn’t mine.

Cindy had much less to tell since she wasn’t
anywhere near us when it happened. She went so far as to tell
Officer Long that Jason was a bully who had been instigating fights
with Brandon for years. She also told him that the beer bottle was
Darcel’s. Darcel had been bullying me for years, but her tactics
were getting more vicious.

“See the scabbed-over wound on Ellen’s face?
Darcel attacked her in the street in front of my house a few weeks
ago and beat her up pretty badly. Tonight she tried to get her in
trouble with that open beer bottle. Can’t a person be arrested or
something for bullying people to this extreme? It’s ridiculous and
it has to stop.”

Cindy was pretty fired up, and I had to
admit, her defense of me touched my heart.

“Bullying can be viewed as a criminal
offense,” Officer Long said and his demeanor softened. “My
suggestion to you, Ellen, is to start documenting everything that
happens to you. You can obtain a copy of this statement in a few
days to keep with your documentation. Also, you should file a
report regarding the physical abuse you underwent; it’s not too
late to do so. Make sure to get your parents involved. Have them go
to the school official whose responsibility is to file these types
of complaints. Cindy, you, too, can report any bullying you’ve
witnessed. You can even do it anonymously if you wish.”

“Oh, I don’t need to remain anonymous,” Cindy
said, “I have no problem reporting it all.” She was still pretty
fired up.

“Could you ladies hold on for a moment?” he
asked as he motioned to his partner to come over. “Dan, can you
find the blonde girl that reported this beer to us and take her
statement?” His partner nodded and went off in search of
Darcel.

“Okay, back to the conversation we were
having. Why don’t I take your statement about the incident where
you were physically attacked?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even remember the date
or time it happened.” I stammered, scared to take it so far. I knew
the repercussions would be ugly.

“I do,” Cindy said, and she began to tell him
everything from that incident. She saw more of it than I did; after
all, I was face down on the road and didn’t even know who had hit
me until I heard Brandon and Cindy approaching the scene.

I confirmed everything Cindy had said, showed
him my healing palms and face, and lifted my shirt to display some
of the yellowed bruises on my ribs.

Dan approached and told Officer Long that
Darcel had fled the scene. Cindy told Officer Long where Darcel
lived. I saw my mom’s car pull into the parking lot and my heart
sank. I sure as heck didn’t want her to see me blow into a
Breathalyzer! I already had so much to explain, I didn’t need to
add that!

“Officer Long, my mom is here. Do you need me
to blow into your Breathalyzer? I’d rather she not see that,” I
asked sheepishly.

“No, I don’t see that it’s necessary. This is
a judgment call on my part. I see no signs of intoxication nor do I
smell alcohol on your breath.”

He reiterated what he had said earlier, that
I should get a copy of the statements I gave tonight to keep with
any documentation I record. He encouraged us to share all of this
information with Brandon. He gave Cindy and me his business card
and told us to call him if we ever felt the need to. On the back of
the cards, he wrote down a website where we could find the
anti-bullying regulations for Wisconsin along with two other
resources on bullying.

We thanked Officer Long for his time and
advice. He was no longer the scary police officer he seemed at the
start of it all.

Chapter
Sixteen

I spent the days following the fight waiting
for Brandon to call me or to come over to see me. I wanted to hear
from him so badly, but it seemed he wasn’t as eager to hear from me
or see me. I didn’t know if he was in jail, if his parents had
grounded him, or if he was intentionally avoiding me. The thought
of the latter hurt the most.

It wasn’t until the third day that I cried. I
had convinced myself that Brandon was avoiding me because he was
ashamed to have kissed me like that. I didn’t answer any calls from
Cindy. She had tried reaching me twice, but I ignored the calls,
afraid of what she’d tell me. It was cowardly. I knew that, but
avoidance was my defense mechanism.

Hershey and I were scheduled to visit with
Janet that afternoon. Mom was off work and drove me to the rehab
facility in silence. She and I had talked the night of the fight so
she knew about the kiss Brandon and I shared. She also knew I had
been crying that morning. My eyes were red and swollen. It would be
hard for her not to know.

“Ellen, don’t let this get you down. Pick
yourself up and move on. You can’t be of any help to your client if
you’re depressed yourself,” she said when we pulled into the
parking lot.

“Mom, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you in an hour,”
I replied. I carried Hershey into the building and once I entered
the doors, I felt the black cloud lift from my shoulders. So many
of the residents had met Hershey over the past few weeks and
greeted us as we passed them on our way to Janet’s room. They all
loved Hershey and he seemed to brighten their days. It felt good to
do that for someone.

I stopped at the nurses’ station to say hi to
the staff and check in.

“You have perfect timing, Ellen. Janet just
finished with her exercises. She’s in her room,” one of the nurses
said.

I knocked on Janet’s door, and to my
surprise, instead of hearing her say “come in,” she actually opened
the door for me. She was no longer in her wheelchair. She had a
beaming smile on her face.

“Hello Ellen! Come on in,” she said full of
pride.

“Wow, Janet, you’re walking on your own! This
is great to see,” I said.

“I know. I’m feeling so good about myself
right now, I could dance!” She walked slowly, but unaided to her
recliner and sat down. As soon as I brought Hershey out of his
carrier, he made his way over to Janet and hopped on her lap.

“Hello, my sweet little friend. I’m so happy
to see you,” she said to him as she ruffled his head and snuggled
her nose into his neck. Hershey responded by cooing at her and
flopping onto his back. She rubbed his tummy and then looked up at
me. That was when she noticed my swollen eyes.

“Oh, dear, what’s wrong, Ellen? Is everything
okay?” she asked full of genuine concern.

I told her everything was fine. After all, it
was my job to make her feel better, not vice versa. She didn’t buy
it. I tried to sway the conversation to focus on her.

“I’m so impressed at your recovery, Janet.
You are doing so well,” I said.

“I owe it all to you, Ellen, you and this
little prince.” She was still stroking the purring Hershey. “Now,
tell me what’s troubling you.”

“Janet, I’m okay. You’re the patient,
remember?” I joked.

“I feel so good right now, I no longer feel
like a patient!” She said. “You know they have a courtyard here.
Would you and Hershey like to go for a walk with me?”

“Yes, we would,” I said. I pried Hershey off
her lap and set him on the ground. Janet gingerly stood from the
recliner. “Let me get my walker. I still need to use it for long
walks.”