Short Stories (bxb)

Skin and Bones Pt. 9: Own It

The rest of the night was spent getting Isaac accustomed to using both legs again. With Dr. Pam's helpful suggestions, soon enough he was walking just like me or Lonnie or anyone else, if only a small bit slower.

     Unsurprisingly, this caused quite the reaction at school on Wednesday. It didn't go unnoticed that Isaac had ditched his wheelchair after months of being tied to it, and was now walking as if nothing had happened. When he strolled into our third period, he looked just as he had the first time I ever saw him--tall, confident, his backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, and wearing jeans that I appreciated so much more now that I was dating him.

     Just like on that first day, his eyes instantly landed on me, and when I smiled at him, he came and sat in the vacant desk next to mine.

     "Looking good," I said, and he smiled happily.

     "Feeling good."

I woke up on Saturday morning feeling very, very nervous.

     It was weird. For the entirety of the week, I'd faced the prospect of prom with nothing but excited anticipation. I'd envisioned myself laughing and twirling and thoroughly enjoying the last dance I would ever attend as a high school student. It wasn't until I opened my eyes on the awaited morning that a feeling of dread began to settle over me.

     I couldn't help but fear that I was making a mistake. Isaac had just finally recovered from a series of weeks that must have been awful for him. He'd had three days at school that were fun and carefree. Was I, with my suggestion, signing him up for a quick end to that happiness?

     Though, if I was being completely honest with myself, my worries were hardly focused on Isaac. He was tough; I knew that after what he'd been through this year, he'd be able to handle a few homophobes.

     But what about me? Aside from receiving some of the backlash from Calum and Luke, I didn't know what it was like to be picked on. Even in my worst days, before I was adopted, I'd never faced bullies. I'd never been mocked or mistreated, unless a few awful foster parents counted. Having never really been tested, I didn't know how I'd handle a negative reaction.

     And there was bound to be one. Our school may not have been in the middle of some heavily religious, gay-hating town where coming out would lead to relentless hatred from all sides, but it wasn't the most open-minded place, either. There was only one out gay kid at Westview, and the reaction to him was telling enough.

I was sure that many people wouldn't care in the slightest, and that some would even be supportive. But there were, I knew, also large ranks of guys and girls who would find it necessary to show their distaste. Perhaps I would even lose friends over it.

    This worry followed me all throughout the day. My dad tried to ease my nerves, but I couldn't quite shake the last-minute fear. To think, I'd felt so good about it wen I first presented the idea to Isaac . . .

    Before I knew it, the time was six. It would be an hour before Isaac and Callie arrived. I had to force myself, despite the invisible lead weights that seemed to be holding my legs in place, to get ready. I couldn't find a shred of my previous excitement as I buttoned my white dress shirt and pulled on my black suit, or even as my dad helped me organize the blonde mess that was my hair and fix my maroon bow-tie, making jokes all-the-while to try and lighten my mood.

     When the doorbell rang downstairs, he seemed to finally lose patience with my sulking, because he grabbed me by the wrist before I could grasp the doorknob, forced me to turn around and look at him, and said, "Listen. This is going to be a night you look back on for the rest of your life. It's one of the last exciting things you'll do before you're off to college. If you're so terrified of coming out that it'll ruin your night, then by all means, don't, because you need to enjoy this night to its fullest, and if you think you'd be more comfortable that way, nobody can tell you otherwise.