Chapter One
Clark
October 1, 2009. That was the day I stopped being an innocent kid. The day my life turned into one long, miserable joke.
It was when I started at North Seattle High and met Rip Cirillo.
I’ll always remember that it was the first of the month. School started late that year because of a major plumbing problem, with water gushing down the hallways, and in the weeks of delay, I worked myself up into an anxious knot. I swore that North Seattle High was going to be different for me, not like the junior high I went to before moving across the city with my mom. I was going to have friends in North Seattle High and maybe join some clubs. Most importantly, I was going to come out of the closet.
I might even find myself a cute guy to date. It was a whole new school, and anything was possible.
Then October first came along.Don’t worry, I told myself. It was just the first day of high school. I’d locate my classes, find some friendly people to sit with in the cafeteria, and maybe try to scout out whether there were any other gay kids around. And it did go smoothly, right up until I was rushing to third period. That’s when I made the mistake of wandering down some empty side hallway, where I ran into them.
It was Rip Cirillo, the hot upperclassman I spotted in first period, and his twisted, scowling friends. One guy was standing in front of the double doors that led back to the rest of the school, and the other was leaned up against the lockers beside him. Rip had his arms folded across his chest, and I’ll never forget the way his muscles popped while he cracked his knuckles.
I tightened my grip on my messenger bag. “I must have taken a wrong turn,” I said and took a step forward, as though to pass them by.
“Not so fast,” one of the guys sneered. He ran his tongue across his lips, and I tried not to stare at the scraggly hairs that grew around his mouth. “Sean here says you were staring at Rip’s cock earlier. Is that right? Is this the guy you caught staring, Sean?”
“Yeah, Robbie, that’s him,” Sean said, then spat, right on the carpet.
I turned to look at Rip. I’d spent all of our first period European History class trying not to stare at him out of the corner of my eye. But no matter how much I wanted to stay focused on the teacher, my eyes kept drifting back to him. He was posted up in the corner of the classroom, hunched over with this look on his face, like he was pissed off. Like he might stand up and walk out at any moment.
But in the hallway, I could see there was something else about the look in his eyes.
I could see green, flecked with silver. And I could see, just beneath the flames of anger, something like pain.
And yeah, probably I had accidentally checked out his package. Because Rip Cirillo wasdrop dead, out of controlgorgeous.
“I did not,” I muttered, then forced myself to step forward.
Sean shot an arm out, abruptly blocking my path. I stumbled to a stop, then glanced over my shoulder, noting the exit door with a sign warning that an emergency alarm would sound.
Not the way I wanted to start my high school career…
A tremble of anxiety and fear shot through my body, and my hands started to shake.
Robbie cleared his throat. “Are you calling Sean a liar?”
“No, no,” I said quickly. I remember how the heat had rushed to my face then, how sweat had started pouring down my side. “I was just…”
Sean grabbed my bag, yanking it from my hands. When I took a step forward, objecting, Robbie shoved his hand against my chest, stopping me as Ioomphed.
“Let’s see what the queer keeps in his bag,” he said. He rifled through, pulling out some of my textbooks and my new school supplies, then tossing them to the ground. I looked to Rip, but he just kept his arms crossed over his chest and kept glaring at the floor like his vision was going to burn a hole straight through the carpet.
“Cake? Fucking cake?” Robbie said, laughing. He had found my lunch and pulled out the generous slice of birthday cake, covered with big swirls of fluffy frosting.
Sean started laughing along, then grabbed the little plastic container my mom had packed it in. “I hear gay boys love cake. Is that right, cake boy? Was it your birthday?”
Blood rushed to the tips of my ears. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes. I wanted to say,Screw you, I’m gay. So what?I wanted to stop hiding in the closet so I didn’t have to stand there, sputtering without a word coming out my mouth. But now, with these three in front of me, I couldn’t make a sound beyond a pathetic whimper.
Robbie handed the cake to Rip, then pushed me backward again, just hard enough that I stumbled a little. “I guess you really must have been staring at Rip’s cock,” he growled. “I guess you really must be a queer after all. And we’re going to make sure everyone knows it. We’re going to make sure no one in this school ever forgets it.”
“What do you say, Rip?” Sean asked. “What do you say to this queer? What do you say to a guy who stares at you in class and thinks about touching you when he goes home at night? What do you say to a guy who wants to rub—”
And then—Rip moved. He moved so fast I don’t think even Sean and Robbie could believe it. His hands flew through the air, and next thing I knew, a piece of cake was smashed against my face, then rubbed down my shirt, leaving sugary smears all over me.
“Cake boy,” Rip said, his voice cold like steel.
