Chapter Eleven

The large wheels stopped mere feet away from Chris and Jonathan as the big yellow bus screeched to a halt. The sound of compressed air whooshed as the doors opened.

“This is our big day, Jay,” Chris beamed as the two boys sat down in a seat towards the back of the bus. Most of the other seats had already been taken by the students whose bus-stops preceded theirs; a few kids had snickered as they watched Chris pass by. “Isn't it?”

“Yeah, it is.” Jonathan tried to smile back, but it didn't work out so well. His eyes scanned the parts of the bus ahead of them, anticipating heads turning and glaring at them in any second.

Chris leaned over and gave Jonathan a kiss on the cheek. “Don't be nervous, love.”

“Right, easier said than done,” Jonathan replied. Chris slipped his hand under Jonathan's, interlacing their fingers and giving a reassuring squeeze.

The bus stopped again not far down the road. As Devon walked up and took the seat next to them, Chris pulled his arm back so that his and Jonathan's hands, though still joined, were hidden from sight. Jonathan momentarily looked down at the spot on his lap that now felt cool without the presence of body heat radiating towards it, then raised his eyes questioningly to Chris.

“Hey, Jon,” Devon casually said. Jonathan snapped his head around frowned.

“Hey, Devon,” he said. He quickly glanced back at Chris, who was wearing a look of near terror. For a second Jonathan wondered how he could be brave when even Chris truly wasn't, but that thought went as quickly as it came and he found himself revealing more to Devon than Devon would have liked to hear. “Chris and I are back together.”

“Jon, it's not April yet, cool it with the jokes.” Devon didn't even bother to look up from the books in his hands, until he realized that Jonathan wasn't going to reply. He slowly lifted his head and saw the seriousness on Jonathan's face. “You...what?”

Jonathan felt Chris flinch beside him. He took Chris's hand and brought it back into view. “We're back together.”

Devon stared at them bug-eyed; his face was tinted with the threat of vomiting. His mouth faltered, desperately grasping in the air for words to use, but finding nothing except empty space.

“Do you think he's gonna flip out?” Chris quietly mumbled into Jonathan's ear.

Without looking away from Devon, Jonathan affirmed. “If he doesn't, then something's definitely wrong.”

Perhaps it was not as much of a dramatic scene as either of the boys had prepared for. When Devon seemed to finally comprehend just what was going on, he shot a few looks of certain dislike their way then turned his focus to the window and the outside world that was passing by.

“I guess that's close enough,” Jonathan quietly said as he set his eyes upon Chris. And just then, something made him smile; maybe it was the way the sunlight dripped into the bus and soaked Chris in a golden hue. Chris's bright blue eyes were lit with fear, but as they met Jonathan's he relaxed a little and smiled back.

“It'll be OK,” Chris said, probably to himself more than Jonathan. “I think that might have been the scariest part.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan replied, and suddenly their positions were switched again. Chris was his normal happy-go-lucky self, and Jonathan almost tried to sink into the bus seat and disappear forever.

Although no one noticed them even after they walked off the bus and into the school, Jonathan's paranoia was still at a maximum height. He kept glancing around the halls, the feeling that a thousand eyes were all on them at any given time crushing him like a bug. Chris noticed this, but he was smart enough to see that there was no real way to convince Jonathan otherwise except to just let him live and find out for himself.

They drew closer and closer to Chris's locker, and Jonathan started to panic even more. Sure, he could stand there with Chris and wait for him to get his books, but they would have to part at some time. Then what? Would Chris try to kiss him goodbye? Not that he didn't want that. He actually really wanted to kiss Chris- really wanted to, but those thousand eyes made him hesitate at the mere thought.

A few feet from the locker, a teacher stood outside of his door, observing the students going about their daily morning routines. As he saw Jonathan and Chris pass by, he quickly called out, “Hey, Jonathan! May I speak with you for a minute?”

Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, sure.” He quickly looked back at Chris, who smiled knowingly.

“See you later.”

Their hands broke apart and Jonathan disappeared into the distance as Chris walked on.

Some kids were loitering by Chris's locker, but he was used to that. More often than not they would harass him, but today seemed to be going extra well for him. All they did was just stare for a moment then move over so they were as far away from him as possible without actually leaving the area. One of the kids must have had a locker right there.

As his locker door swung open, so appeared a face covered in piercings and hidden away by a mass of dark brown hair. “Hey, Chris.”

Chris cautiously looked up, as he thought he had heard a hint of aggression in the voice. But he was relieved to see that it was just Damien, who seemed to be donning a new hoop in his eyebrow.

“Hey, Damien,” Chris said. “Nice, uh...” Chris gestured around his own eyebrow, “eyebrow ring... thing...”

“Thanks,” Damien coolly replied.

“Yeah. Uh, anyway, how was your weekend?”

Damien shrugged. “It was all right. Got to stay home and sleep in for two days. How was yours?”

“It was... the best weekend of my life,” Chris beamed.

“Oh, yeah? How so?”

“Uh... I don't know that I should say-”

“Ohhhh, who is he?” Damien immediately interrupted. Chris's jaw dropped in slightly fake surprise.

“Damien!”

“Did you sleep with him?” Damien's invasive and ridiculous questions were started to make Chris fluster a little.

“No, I didn't sleep with him, we live in the same house and his mother...” Chris trailed off before he said any more, though he knew that he'd already said too much.

“So it's Jonathan?” Damien asked, and Chris nodded. “Well, congratulations. You've liked him for a while, haven't you?”

“I think I always liked him,” Chris shrugged.

“And he's straight, right? That's even more impressive.”

“I guess it is...”

Silence merged its way between the two and stayed until the bell rang. Then they both left separate ways without speaking another word, but it was a sort of ritual for them. Along with this came the long route around the room that Chris took to avoid the other kids in his homeroom.

It was all normal, a normal day in school, doing normal scholarly things. Chris swerved in the halls on his way to his classes to avoid those trying to get to him, he tried to pay attention to whatever the hell the teacher was talking about and not get wrapped up in thinking about Jonathan, and he lost his pen somewhere between Math and English. Typical stuff, really.

Soon, though it felt like far too long for his teenage heart, he met up with Jonathan once again as they walked to the boys' locker room.

“How was your day so far?” Chris chirped.

“Well, I talked to Devon again. He said that he would tell me how he felt about this if he hadn't promised his mum not to use unnecessary language from now on.”

Chris rolled his eyes and found that he had nothing to say in return. At least, everything that he could say he felt was too obvious to say, and so he kept his mouth shut. But as the two boys walked through the door into the locker room, Chris decided to take Jonathan's hand and lead them past the usuals.

“Oh, look, it's spreading,” came the voice of Thomas. Jonathan merely shot him a nasty look, but oddly enough Chris was not satisfied by that. He stopped, nearly causing Jonathan to bump into him, and turned sharply.

For nearly half a minute he just glared with a look of death in his eyes, then finally spoke through clenched teeth. “If it is spreading, then you should watch out. You know who else has got it? Your little friend Nolan.”

Nearly everyone's jaws dropped and they all looked to Nolan, whose face was beet red and his eyes wide with horror. Chris stormed off, though immediately he calmed down and began to regret his behavior. Jonathan thought it was spectacular.

“Chris, that was... that was awesome!”

“I shouldn't have done that,” Chris said, shaking his head and striding on with determination.

“Shouldn't have done what?” Jonathan replied, his tone itching with annoyance. “Defended yourself?”

Chris stopped abruptly and spun around. “I shouldn't have told them that. He didn't want anyone to know... It wasn't my place to say it.”

He frowned at the floor and his ears ached as the sounds of the other boys commenting on their newfound knowledge began to fill the room and echo off the walls. Jonathan watched him sympathetically, then decided he needed to change as quickly as possible.

Chris soon did the same, and it seemed like all he did was blink before the class was over and they were back in there, changing this time from the gym clothes into their normal clothes.

Before they left the locker room, Chris stopped by the door. Nolan was sitting where he usually stood, staring into space with a look of despair. Chris quickly glanced back at Jonathan, who nodded in understanding.

“Nolan, I'm sorry.” Chris sat down next to the poor blond-haired boy. “I know I should have kept that to myself, but it just kinda slipped... Your friends are such jerks. If they really are your friends, even.”

“I guess they're not anymore,” Nolan replied, his voice dry as dust.

“I'm really sorry.”

Nolan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he looked at Chris and said, “I kinda wanted to tell people anyway. I guess now I don't really have to.”

“Yeah, see, there's always a bright side,” Chris said, and he awkwardly laughed a little.

News spread like wildfire; within the few minutes that it took Chris and Jonathan to travel from the locker room to Chris's locker to the cafeteria, it seemed as though everyone had been informed of not only Nolan's sexuality, but of Chris and Jonathan's relationship.

Even though they were no longer holding hands- in fact, Jonathan was a few paces ahead of Chris, rushing to escape the spotlight- it seemed as if everyone just knew. They automatically knew, and they felt the need to either stare or point or mutter under their breath.

“Jay,” Chris said as they stopped at their table, “walking fast isn't going to make them disappear.”

“I know,” Jonathan replied. He dropped his bag in his chair and took Chris's arm. Chris barely had time to set his own stuff down before Jonathan dragged him across the cafeteria to where the lunch lines were.

“At least they're only talking. It could be a lot worse.”

Jonathan stared at the floor, then lifted his eyes to Chris. “It just takes time, right?”

Chris smiled and nodded. “Right. And,” he leaned in close to Jonathan and whispered in his ear, “I won't let anyone hurt you. You have nothing to worry about.” He brought his hand up and quickly brushed his thumb over Jonathan's cheek.

The line moved forward a bit, and so Chris and Jonathan stepped along with it. A few of the people in front of them were talking about Nolan- at least, Chris had thought he heard them talking about Nolan. Then he felt bad, but he knew, like with many other things he had done in his life, that there was no taking it back. But maybe it would turn out for the best.

Not more than five minutes later, Jonathan cautiously put his tray on the table. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Chris walk around him and to his own seat. Jonathan made a split-second decision, and moved before Chris even had a chance to sit down.

The next few moments became tangled up in Chris's mind; one minute he was setting his tray down, then the next his head was being pulled up by Jonathan's hands, and then Jonathan kissed him. Right there, in the middle of the cafeteria, with all those people around them, Jonathan kissed him. Chris was so stunned that for a few seconds he forgot to react; once he remembered, he laid his hands on Jonathan's sides and kissed him back.

The room quieted around them, but neither really noticed. Soon people regained their consciousness and voices and began booing. Some even called out awful and degrading names.

Despite all that, as the two boys pulled apart and Chris rested his forehead against Jonathan's, they both smiled. Nothing felt better than showing the world their love, even if it meant negative consequences.

“I love you so much, Jay,” Chris quietly said.

“I love you, too. Do you think maybe we should get out of here?”

Chris quickly leaned forward and their lips briefly met again. “Yeah. Let's leave before people start to riot.”

They shared a small laugh and hurriedly gathered their things. On the way out of the cafeteria they faced several obstacles, the least of which being a rather large kid blocking the door, though not purposely; he had been speaking with his friend the whole time, so he missed the display entirely.

“Excuse me, 'scuse me,” Chris said in a rushed tone, and it took a few tries before the kid heard him. He moved, and shot Chris a look as though he felt Chris was being rather rude, interrupting his conversation like that.

Jonathan had never actually thought of where they would go when they left the cafeteria, but Chris seemed to have it covered. They walked through the halls, silent except for the muffled voices contained within the classrooms around them. One door was open, and it was into this room that Chris led Jonathan.

“Mr. Phillips?”

The teacher sitting at his desk looked up at the two boys. He smiled kindly and replied, “Yes, Chris?”

“Would it be all right for Jonathan and I to stay and eat lunch in here?”

“Sure.” Chris nodded for Jonathan to follow him into the room, and they both took seats relatively close to Mr. Phillips's desk. “May I ask why, though?”

“We're trying to... avoid opposition from the public,” Chris lamely explained.

Mr. Phillips lowered his eyelids a little. “How so?”

“People can be nasty, especially if they see the gay kid kiss his boyfriend. That doesn't please them, really.”

Mr. Phillips breathed, looking as if he was trying to stifle a detailed response. “Right. Well, I would have to agree with you there.” He looked down at the papers on his desk, and drummed his hands on the surface. “Oh, by the way, I read your novel, Chris, and I must say I was impressed. Have you considered trying to get published?”

“Really, published??” Chris replied with wide eyes. “You think it's that good?”

“Yes,” Mr. Phillips said. “Now, granted, it's a difficult and taxing process, and you probably won't succeed at first, but what you've got is a great story. The overall plot is wonderful. It seems like you've got quite a few subplots going on, but everything wraps up nicely in the end. The character development is superb, and frankly it seems as though the span of your vocabulary is wide enough to fill an entire dictionary itself.”

Chris blushed and ducked his head. Jonathan thought he looked kinda cute like that. “Well, thank you,” he quietly said.

“Which one is it?” Jonathan asked Chris. Chris slowly looked up, his eyes bulging ever so slightly.

“It's, uh... one you haven't read.” Chris pressed his lips together so there was barely any space between them and mumbled, “Because it's about you.”

“Because what?”

“I wrote it about you,” Chris said a little louder. “Well, I didn't mean to write it about you, and I didn't even realize that I did at first. But then I went over it again and... I wrote it about you.”

Jonathan thought for a few moments, Chris watching him and hoping his reaction wouldn't be bad. “Can I read it?” he asked, to both Chris's relief and dismay.

“I guess. Honestly, I think it might be the best one I've written so far.”

“When did you write it?”

In Chris's eyes flashed a quick sadness, an almost bittersweet expression. “The first time we were together. It's not so obvious that it's about you. It's just... well, you at least influenced it heavily.”

“If you'd like, you can have my copy and start reading now,” Mr. Phillips interjected. “Though you might find it hard to put down.”

Jonathan walked up to Mr. Phillips's desk and took the stack of papers from him. “Thanks.”

As Jonathan sat back down at his seat, he glanced at the cover. Typed neatly in the center of the page, black ink in size 12 font were the words Stares From Green Eyes.

Somehow Jonathan felt that maybe it hadn't been titled that originally. That or Chris had really been in denial about Jonathan's impact on the story.