Forgotten

Aidan

Most people know me here, at Monroe High School. But it’s not a good thing. I’m just the gay kid; your typical gay theater kid who got noticed because he came out. And I’m not saying it’s bad that I’m gay. I mean I like it. Of course I would, why else would I be gay? But, I’m the person who passes by in the hallway and is followed by whispers. I’m the gay kid. That’s it. I don’t have a name. I have a label, a prejudice, baggage that is everyone else’s fear and prejudice. It’s not mine. I shouldn’t have to deal with it.

Don’t get me wrong. There are some amazing people here. People that could change you just as quick as look at you. I hang out with the drama kids, the theatre geeks; the kids that have to stay at school everyday until five because, usually, we have rehearsal. Those people are my friends. They accept me, forget that I’m different, or just don’t care. They count, not the eyes, not the whispers. But this isn’t about that. This is about something entirely different.

So, anyway, there I was, sitting there in English class, and a voice comes over the loudspeaker.

“Miss Aiko? Could you please send Aidan to the office? He’s needed.”

Then came the expected oohs and aahs from the supposedly mature seniors of our school. So I grabbed my stuff and headed to the office, where the woman sitting at the front desk never looked at me and sent me to guidance. So here I am now, sitting in a chair waiting for something. Who knows what?

I wonder what it’s like to work as a secretary at a high school. Maybe she regrets becoming it. Maybe she wanted to do something else in life. Maybe when she was my age she dreamed of being a huge movie star, or a writer, or maybe she was really good at, I don’t know, lacrosse, and wanted to play professionally. People like that depress me; the ones that don’t look you in the eye. They make me feel guilty; they make me think that I could end up like that. I don’t think anyone dreams of being a secretary or a janitor. It makes me paranoid. It scares me. I don’t want to- Oh; they’re finally calling me in.

Madison

What is he doing here? I don’t want to be here. Especially not with him. Why am I here? I just came because the monotone voice over the loudspeaker told me to; right in the middle of our song in chorus too. Although, it was in the middle of that girl’s solo. You know. The type of girl that gets the lead every time she tries out. You don’t even have to try at all; you know she’ll get it straight away. Things like that make me fell better. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it. It’s jealousy. It eats away until your left with this empty shell that even you don’t know what do with.

But whatever, what is this about? I hope it’s not like what they did 6 months ago. When they called us, all of us that were close to him, into the office and told us that they were here for us if we wanted to tell them anything. When they watched us with those pitying eyes that just seemed like they were waiting for us to burst out crying, like they wanted us to, so they could feel like they had a purpose. That’s what it’s all about, right? Feeling you had a purpose. I thought I had a purpose, but then- I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! I can’t do this. Thank god, the guidance counselor’s coming in. I can just tell her I can’t miss class or something like that. I’ll get out of here.

Aidan

That girl is here. I can’t look at her. She makes me feel like crap. I can’t deal with this. She only has to look at me and I just want to die. It wasn’t my fault, right?

It wasn’t my fault.

The guidance counselor’s talking. I can see her mouth moving. I’m having trouble hearing the words. I wish she would stop looking at me. I have to hear what she’s saying. I have to know what’s going on.

At least it’s Mrs. Dante. She’s pretty cool. I mean I can talk to her about most stuff. She isn’t one of those condescending adults. She’s a pretty genuine person. But, I can only tell her about minor things. You can never share the big stuff with an adult. The gap’s too big. She’s saying something about me and Madison. Something about one of our friends. One of our friends? Who are we both friends with? This is really annoying. I need to listen. I need to stop. I need to breathe. Wait- She’s leaving now. Why is she leaving? What’s going on? Why is she closing the door? Shit! I should have listened. Madison is looking at me now. She doesn’t look happy. What am I going to do?

Madison

I knew he wasn’t listening. He’s like that. He zones people out, ignores them. I don’t think he realizes he does it. It’s why he isn’t that popular really. He shuts people out. Unless he’s close with them, he doesn’t really talk. He makes people feel like they’re not worth his time.

“So… What’s going on?” At least he’s talking.

“Weren’t you listening? Someone told her were having problems. She wants us to talk.” I mustered up my most condescending look.

“Oh. So, should we just here for a while and then pretend we talked and everything?”

“Whatever.” I tried my best to look bored. To look like I don’t care about him, to look like he never hurt me, like he was never more important than me.

The silence is stretching between us. I hate silence. It means I don’t know what the other person is thinking. I always get paranoid then. I think they’re thinking about me, and I don’t want them to. I don’t know what they think. And I don’t want to give them an opportunity to think. I don’t want to give them a chance to figure out they don’t like me.

Five minutes gone. Ten. Fifteen. At least I get out of class. Is that what he’s thinking? I hope he’s not thinking about me. I can’t bear this. The silence is pressing down on me.

“That should be long enough.” He looked up at me. “See you later.”

I can see him reaching for the door. I can feel the words pushing themselves up my throat. I can feel it closing at the same time. I’m going to cry. I can’t! I can’t cry in front of him. I can’t let him see it. But the words are pushing. I’m going to lose. I’ve never been good at this. I’m going to say something I’ll regret. It’s breaking through. I’m losing again.

Aidan

“I hate you!” The words burst out of her. I was almost out of there too. Almost home free. I can see her face though. I can see how much she hates herself right now. I can’t leave her like this. I can’t when I know it’s my fault. When I know she’s right.

I let go of the door and sit down again. I look at her. I don’t say anything though. I think it’s just better to let her go now.

“I hate you!” She looks up at me, instead of at the fists clenched in her lap. “I hate you! How can you look at me like that?! Why do you smile? You shouldn’t be allowed to. You’re not allowed to! It’s your fault, you know that? It’s your fault! It’s not fair. How can you let go so easily? How can you forget? It’s your fault he’s gone!”

“I know.” I look at her. I can’t deny it. It’s true. I took him from her twice.

She shut her mouth. The tears are forming in her eyes. I can see the hate. Not just for me. For herself too. She blames herself. She shouldn’t. It’s not her fault. It’s mine.

“Madison.” I can see her wince when I use her name. “Madison. I know. I didn’t mean it. You have to understand. You have to let me explain.”

She crosses her arms and leans back in the chair. “Whatever.”

I know she’s pretending she doesn’t care. But she needs this. I need this. We both need this. We’ve let things stretch for so long. We’ve let this, this monster grow inside of us and eat us. We need to tell each other the truth.

“I didn’t mean to take him. It wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t know he was gay. He didn’t know he was gay. We just met in a store, we started talking. We both like the same band, The Rocket Summer. I had tickets to a concert. We got along so well I just asked him to go. I didn’t mean for it to be date or anything. I didn’t mean anything with it. He loved you. He did. He talked about you all the time. Anyway, we started hanging out more. We talked about all sorts of things. I never had that connection with anyone before. I never felt that before. We were just talking one day and he kind of leaned over and I did to. And before I knew what was happening we were kissing. And then we, and then we, well you know- it just followed- we didn’t mean for it to go farther but it did. He still loved you! He did.”

Madison

I stopped him. I don’t want to hear this. It hurts too much. It hurts more to think he loved me. It makes me feel like I’m splitting in two. My chest hurts.

“Didn’t you know then though? You must have known. You must have had some idea!” I’m desperate now. I want to hold on to my hate. It makes it hurt less. It’s easier to hate. His voice is cracking. He hurts too.

“I didn’t. I should’ve. I should have checked. Maybe my parents were right. Maybe I’m too young to be doing that sort of thing. But it felt right. Then again, it always feels right at the time.”

We all think we’re old enough. We think we’re so mature. We think we can handle anything. But then those times come that we can’t handle and all we want is to be held by our mom and dad, but then it’s too late. It’s awkward; we’ve ostracized them too much. We can’t let them hold us anymore, there’s no love left on any side. It’s shaming, and lost.

“He couldn’t handle it. I don’t know why. He should have come to me. He should have gone to you. When he told me, I couldn’t believe. I thought you had done it. But he said you guys hadn’t done it yet. He said that he couldn’t now. He said you had never done it and he wouldn’t scar you with something like that.”

I’m crying now. I don’t want to. But I can’t help it. He’s crying too.

“I should have done something. I should have been there in the first place. I though he could deal with it though. I thought we’d both just take our AZT and live as best as we could together. But then-“

He’s silent. He doesn’t have to talk. I know what he’s referring to. We both know how this story ends. I can remember everything. It was April 24th in the afternoon. I was so excited to see him. I couldn’t wait to tell him that I was able to get him a backstage pass at Bamboozle for his birthday. If I had waited for him to come to the door, if I hadn’t been so impatient, maybe he would still be here. I had been pushing him. I wanted to sleep with him. I was in love him. I wanted him to be my first. He also told me no. He told me I was too young to know. So, when I walked in on them like that. It was more than shock and surprise and disgust, it was pain. He would sleep with a guy, a GUY, but not with me. Was I that disgusting? That was all I could think then.

He chased me. I can see him now. His arm stretching out to grab me. He looked so beautiful then. He always did. I was crying then too. I remember hitting him. And I remember him hugging me, and crying into his shirt.

“How could you? Do you hate me that much? Am I that disgusting? I can’t believe this? Oh my god.”

He was crying too, I could feel his chest shudder with every breath.

“I can’t hurt you like that.”

I pushed him away. “You can’t hurt me like what?! You can hurt me by sleeping with someone else?”

“I- I” He couldn’t look me in the face. “I have AIDS. We both do. That’s why. That’s why I don’t sleep with you. I don’t want to give it to you. I’m sorry. I really am.”

He reached out to grab me by the arm, but I pulled away.

“AIDS!” I was screaming then. The tears were streaming down my face. I looked over his shoulder at Aidan who stood there watching us, his face distorted with pain. “Did you? Did you give it to him?”

Aidan looked away. And I knew he had. I launched myself at him. He pulled me of f Aidan. I ran away from him then. And it happened then too. Words coming out. Words I didn’t mean. “Stay away from me. I hate you! You faggot!”

I regret it now. You can’t know the hate I feel for myself. I hurt so much after that. I missed school for two days. When I came back, he wasn’t there. The next day we were called in for an assembly and they told us. He was gone. He had left us, left me. He couldn’t handle it anymore. It’s amazing what simple sleeping pills could do.

I saw Aidan at the funeral. He was crying too. I hated him then. It wasn’t fair that he could cry. He should have died. I should have died. He shouldn’t be the one standing, when he’s in the ground. But I think I understand now. I think time helped. I think I can forgive him. He doesn’t say much, but when I look at him and see him cry, I realize that he did care. He still does care and he hurts too. I thought he didn’t. He went on with life. I closed everything off. I didn’t understand that he was mourning in his own way. I thought he didn’t care. I thought he didn’t hurt and I hated him for it. But I understand know. He’s dying too.

I put my hand over his and looked into his face.

Aidan

She’s holding me now. We’re both crying, both cleansing. I didn’t realize how much we needed this. We both had been holding on to so much for so long. We both had all this hate, all this anger; mostly hurt inside that we blamed each other for. But we can’t do that. We have to let go now. We have to do it for us and for him. For Justin.

We leave the office together, but we don’t go back to class. We’re going to my car. We’re going to go drive. We don’t know where; don’t know how long, or why. We just need to drive. We need to get away and let go. Need to live and forget. Forget the hurt. Forget the pain. Forget life. Forget friends and enemies. Forget baggage, Forget prejudice and strife. We’re going to drive. We’re going to drive along the highway with the windows rolled down and the music breaking our eardrums. We’re going to drive until we run out of gas and have to be towed home. We’re going to drive.

We’re not friends; never will be. We can’t. There’s too much space, too much emotion. But for now, we’ll be together. For a few hours. For us and for him. We’re both going to let ourselves go. We’re going to free-fall into the unknown and if we hit rock bottom, well, at least we’ll hit it together.