Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“I’ve heard that they have great athletic programs,” I agreed, unsure how the pieces were going to connect. Did he have an accident while playing?
Sterling nodded. “It was the same way when I was in school. And their great athletic programs produced great athletes. They were muscular, popular, handsome…and like the majority of the other students, whether male or female, I was obsessed with them.”
I chuckled softly. “That reminds me of my school days too; I remember the way the athletes were idolized. I never played sports myself, so I was a little jealous of the attention they got, and confused by the attention I wanted to give them; I didn’t figure out my sexuality until my college days.”
Sterling squeezed my hand. "Not me; I knew that I was gay back in junior high school. I never felt the need to fight it or hide it about myself because there were several other students like me. Plus, I had a group of close friends who supported me, the staff at North Point promoted acceptance, and I never doubted my safety.” He gave a tight smile and added, “I guess I let my guard down.” I don’t like where this is going.
Sterling continued, “Since I was confident in myself, I didn’t hesitate to drop hints or flirt with the guys; especially one named Xander Jenkins. He played all of the sports, and received all of my adoration. I went to all of his games, and took great action shots of him with my camera. I took pictures of all of North Point’s games and players; I planned on turning them into the yearbook staff, and the practice helped hone my skills in different lights and settings. But of course Xander was my favorite muse.”
“One day, I slipped one of the photos I took of him inside a folded note. It was a beautiful shot of him throwing a basketball in a perfect arc, and I thought he would like it. I didn’t mean any harm; I just wanted to show him that I liked him and thought he was talented and special.”
I brushed my thumb across his knuckles and asked, “What happened, sweetheart?” I hoped I was ready to hear the answer.
“Xander sent a note back to me and I thought I’d pass out from excitement right there in the middle of class. I read it and couldn’t believe my eyes; he said that he liked me too, but he was shy because he was afraid his sports buddies would make fun of him if they knew he was gay. So he asked me to meet him behind the school after the last bell so he could kiss me in private. I couldn’t believe it, or concentrate for the rest of the day. I kept counting down the minutes until my dreams came true.”
He took a deep, shaky breath and I placed my other hand over his, wanting to give him as much support as possible. “When the final bell rang, I ran outside, feeling more excited than I’d ever been. When I saw Xander waiting for me, my heart nearly beat out of my chest. But then I saw he wasn’t alone; many of his teammates were there with him. At first, I was so proud of him; I thought he decided to tell his friends his truth, and I was grateful that I was there to share his big moment. But I was so, so wrong.”
I waited silently as Sterling composed himself to continue, “I quickly realized it was a trick when Xander approached me with a furious look. He told me that he had ignored my disgusting flirting, but that I’d crossed a line by being a ‘creepy perv’ by taking pictures of him; that he didn’t want to think about what I did with the photos. I tried to tell him that I loved photography and took photos of all of the other players too, but that only made it worse. His friends closed in on me. I tried to run away, but they were so much faster.”
“They…” Sterling paused to clear his throat. “They attacked me. They pushed me to the ground and took turns beating the hell out of me to ‘teach me a lesson’ and ‘use me as a warning to any other fag who may try to overstep his bounds’. The last thing I remember before I passed out was an excruciating pain on the back of my head.”
I blinked my tear-filled eyes as my heart shattered. I couldn’t imagine the fear and betrayal sweet Sterling felt on that day. He had been hurt both emotionally and physically, yet deserved none of it. It was terribly insufficient, but all I had to offer was, “I am so, so sorry.”
“I woke up in a hospital three days later,” Sterling resumed. “I had broken bones and horrible pain all over my body…but no sight. The blow I felt on the back of my head was from a baseball bat that one of the boys hit me with. The strike to my skull damaged my optic nerve, making my brain unable to process images from my eyes. At first, the doctors were hopeful that my vision would return over time, but I had complications with brain bleeding and scarring, which made the damage irreparable.”