Ripped Apart, Ch.4

Ripped Apart, Ch.4

“This must have been the worst day of school I have ever had,” I tell Jack after school’s finally over and we’re walking back home. When we’re home, I take all of my books out of my backpack and the note I wrote for Matt falls out from in-between my school diary. Fuck, I forgot to tell Jack that we needed to go to the graveyard. I am the worst person that has ever lived on this planet. How could I possibly forget about Matt? My Matt.

I lie down on my bed, curl into a little Alex-ball and start crying.

“I’m so sorry, Matt,” I whisper and I hope from the bottom of my heart that he can hear me, even though I’m not at his grave right now. I hope he understands. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper again. “I’m so stupid, I’m sorry Matt.”

I only notice that Jack’s in the room, when I feel his weight sitting down on the edge of my bed.
“Why are you sorry?” he asks, laying his hand on my shoulder and turning my body around, so that he’s facing my tearstained face now.

“I forgot him,” I cry out and bury my face into my pillow. I fucking forgot about Matt. My boyfriend.

“What do you mean you forgot him?” Jack asks and I can clearly hear that he’s confused. He probably thinks I’m going wacko.

“I wrote him a note,” I explain, showing him the note that has now been transformed to a crumpled little ball. “And I wanted to bring it to his grave after school, but I forgot,” I tell him and start crying again. “I’m a stupid, selfish person.”

“Alex,” Jack starts again and puts his hand on my shoulder. “You didn’t forget about him. He’s still in your memory, isn’t he?” he asks and I lift my head, turning it around to look at him.

“Of course he is,” I reply instantly. Matt will always be in my memory; I don’t understand why Jack asks me this, because he knows it.

“Then you haven’t forgotten about him.” He smiles softly and lies down next to me, so we’re face to face. “You know what? From now on, we’ll visit Matt’s grave at least once a week, so you can bring him all the things you have written for him. We can do it every weekend.”

See? This is why I think Jack is such a wonderful friend. He always knows what to say or do to make me feel better about myself.

“Thanks,” I whisper. I really can’t thank this boy enough for everything he does for me. “You’ve been so good to me and all I can do is cry and whine,” I say and start to feel really bad for being such a horrible friend to him. Everything Jack and I do, are things that have to do with me. I’m such a selfish person for claiming all of his time.

“Hey, don’t worry.” Jack smiles and presses a small kiss against my forehead. “I promised you that I would help you through this and I’m not breaking that promise, okay? And for the crying and whining, I really don’t care. It’s understandable that you’re crying so much, I guess. You’ve lost someone you loved with your entire heart and soul; you don’t get over something like that in a few days. It takes time.”

Wow. I swear that boy should become a psychiatrist when he gets older. He’d make a damn good one, that’s for sure.

“Thanks,” I whisper again and wrap my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

***

It seems that Jack and I have about half of our classes together. I think that’s totally awesome. School gives me a daily routine, which helps me a lot. I never thought that the day would come where I would say that school is doing me well, but it really is and I’m not going to deny that, no matter how odd it sounds.

Today, our first class is Biology and our teacher happily announced that we are going to dissect a frog, making three quarter of the class groan in response. The teacher tells us to make pairs of two, so of course Jack and I immediately team up with each other. Jack’s face immediately turns pale when he sees the dead frog lying in front of his nose. Poor him, he has an immense love for animals: big and small; ugly and pretty, so this is everything but a pleasant task for him.

“I don’t want to do that,” Jack whines and looks at me with big, begging eyes.

“I’ll do it,” I tell him and grab the scalpel from the desk. This is the least I can do for him, so I carefully follow the instructions that are written on the blackboard, but while I’m cutting open the frog, I accidentally cut my index finger with the scalpel and, of course, it immediately starts bleeding.

David, a kid from my class, sees this and harshly pulls Jack away from me as if I’m a time bomb that’s about to explode.

“Don’t come near his blood,” David hisses and lets go of Jack. Jack cocks an eyebrow at the other boy and comes back to me.

“Let me see,” he whispers and takes my finger in his hand, having a close look at the cut, but then David yanks him away from me again. What the fuck is wrong with this kid?

“Jeez, back off,” Jack tells David and pushes him away.

“Don’t!” David yells and now everyone in the classroom has their eyes on us. “He’s got AIDS.”

What the fuck? Why the hell does he think I’ve got AIDS? I don’t have AIDS, that’s bullshit.

“I-I don’t…” I stutter and look at Jack, not knowing what to do. Jack shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“Alex doesn’t have AIDS,” he states and takes my bleeding finger in his hand again. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he puts my finger in his mouth and sucks on it to stop the bleeding. The teacher who witnessed this all walks up to us, her eyes wide and somewhat scared.

“Take his finger out of your mouth, right now,” she commands, her face stern and paler than ever. I’m really confused now. Why does everyone think I’ve got AIDS?

Jack shakes his head in response and keeps my finger in his mouth even though I’m sure that the bleeding has already stopped.

“He hasn’t got AIDS,” Jack repeats, after I took my finger out of his wet mouth. “Why would you think he’s got AIDS?” he asks.

Thank God that Jack’s here, because I really have no idea what to do or say right now. I just stand in front of my school desk with the dead frog still lying on it and look down at the dirty floor. I don’t have the guts to look up, because I know everyone’s staring straight at me.

“He’s gay,” David says and immediately, there’s a feeling of pure anger spreading from the pit of my stomach. I’m gay, so I have AIDS… wow, how stupid can one be?

“I’m gay too,” Jack replies, glaring at David. “Does that mean I’ve got AIDS as well, huh?”

Woah there. Wait. Jack’s gay? I lift my head and look at him, sending him a questioning look. Why did he never tell me that he was gay? Jack looks at me for a few seconds and then he nods, as if he knows what I’m thinking.

“Let me finish my sentence,” David says, lifting his hand. “It’s not because he’s gay that he’s got AIDS. He’s got it because his boyfriend had it,” he tells everyone in the class. Now I’m really far beyond angry. Where the fuck did he get the idea that Matt had AIDS? He didn’t even know Matt, so he hasn’t got the right to spread such rumours about him.

I launch myself forward and grab David by the collar of his shirt. No one can say such things about Matt, certainly not when they’re untrue.

“Matt did not have AIDS,” I hiss and want to punch him in the face with my already balled fist, but Jack grabs me by the wrist before I can do so.

“Let go of him, Alex,” he softly whispers. “He’s not worth it.”

I send David an angry glare and let go of him, still shaking with fury.

“Alex and Jack, please leave this room now,” the teacher speaks up, sternly looking at the two of us. “Alex, go to the school nurse. Jack, go with him and tell the nurse everything that has been said in this classroom because I don’t want to take any risks.”

“I’m not leaving this room until everything here is cleared up,” Jack speaks and takes my hand in his. It feels so nice to have him doing that, it makes me feel safer and stronger, especially at an extra vulnerable moment like this. The teacher sighs, rolling her eyes but then she nods.

“Good,” Jack says and takes a deep breath before he starts talking. “First off, why do you think that his boyfriend had AIDS?” he questions, giving David a quizzical look.

I really don’t want to be here right now. I don’t want to hear this, so I tug at Jack’s hand, trying to get his attention.

“I don’t want to talk about Matt,” I mutter and the first tears are already starting to fall.

Call me pathetic, call me a pansy, call me whatever you want, but I don’t want to talk about Matt in front of all those people and I don’t want to hear Jack talk about him either. I’m just not ready for that.

“You can wait outside if you want,” Jack whispers, letting go of my hand. “I understand,” he adds with a small smile. “I just want to do this to clear Matt’s name and yours,” he tells me and once again, I really can’t be grateful enough for this boy’s help. He’s the best friend anyone could ever imagine. I quickly nod, mutter a “Thanks.” and then I leave the room.