Slippery Slopes (Winterhaven Series - Vol. 1)

Chapter 57

Rodney leaned against the door and hung his head, his palm pressed against his brow. His heart pounded until the ache within began to bruise its tender flesh. What the fuck do you care if he doesn't see you?! You're not a faggot! Rodney stared at the floor as tears began to drip down his face. "You're not," he choked as a low boiling bitterness bubbled up. "You're never going to be a fucking queer." What happened at the Hampton party was irrelevant; induced by liquor. Just some random fuck with some random guy—maybe the waiter? He didn't know and didn't care. It was over and in the past. And it wouldn't fucking happen again.

He wiped his hand over his wet face and squeezed his eyes shut, pissed that he couldn't get Darren's face out of his head. He willed the storm to pass so he could get the fuck away from this place. Coming here was the worst mistake of his life.

Someone knocked, and Rodney jumped, staggering away from the door. He turned around and hesitated. Had Todd come back? Why would he? To make sure you don't tell anyone what he told you—that he liked having the attention of the fag bartender? Irrational anger swept over him, and Rodney lurched forward and yanked open the door. "Leave me the fuck alone-"

Darren stood on the other side of the door, startled by his outburst.

Swallowing hard, Rodney muttered, "What're you lost?"

"No." Darren held his stare for a split second then looked away. "Todd said we should invite you to come down and watch the game." He glanced up. "Do you want to?"

"Todd?" Rodney asked doubtfully.

"Yeah."

"Why the fuck would he invite me?"

Darren shrugged. "I don't know," he mumbled. "To be nice?"

"Why the hell would he be nice to me?" Rodney asked skeptically.

"I don't know," Darren exclaimed with exasperation. He shifted and glanced down the hall, clearly wanting to be anywhere but here talking to Rodney. "Do you want to or not?"

Rodney stared at him as Darren cast him only quick, fleeting glances. Resentment, anger, and hurt bubbled up inside Rodney from unknown sources. "You can all go fuck yourselves." He stepped back and slammed the door as his knees suddenly went weak and nearly dropped him to the floor. His heart shuddered and raced erratically. He choked on the forming knot in his throat and clenched his fists, eyes refilling as he stared at the door, tension locking his muscles.

Another knock. Harder this time.

His heart beat faster. The rising wall of tears broke and ran down his face. Rodney wiped viciously at the tears, enraged at himself, at Darren, at everyone.

Two quick, hard raps on the door.

"Leave me the fuck alone!"

The knob cranked, and the door shoved open. Darren entered without invitation, his entire countenance transformed from what it was a moment ago. He drilled Rodney with a steely glare and closed the door hard behind him. "I might think that you being such a fucking dick was a result of Frederick's death," he said tightly. "But you were a dick before he died. A dick to him, a dick to me, a dick to everyone. What is your fucking problem?"

Rodney was momentarily shocked to silence by Darren's sudden and uncharacteristic outburst. He recovered quickly and fired back, "What the fuck do you care? You never liked me! Frederick didn't even like me!"

"That's bullshit, and you know it!" Darren countered sharply. "Stop playing the fucking rejected outcast. You made yourself an outcast! We tried to include you. But you were an ass, always making shitty remarks about us having a hard-on for each other. Calling us faggots and queers. We just got sick of your bullshit and stopped trying to include you."