Starlight Crashing Through the Room Part Four

[butterflyslinky]

Title: Starlight Crashing Through the Room

Author: butterflyslinky   

Pairing: Linkara/Spoony

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 15,212

Warnings: Bullying, violence, homophobic slurs, eating disorders, first person narrative

Summary: Life isn’t going well for fourteen-year-old Spoony. He just started a new school, he has no friends, and his parents are making him join the wrestling team, which is run by alpha-male psychopaths. Now Spoony has to pass English, go up a weight class or two, and not screw things up with his new best friend (and possible crush) Linkara. Will he survive? Probably. But this year is bound to be the worst ever.

Notes: Inspired by Twitter and talking to lady_sci_fi   way too late at night. Some of the incidents in this story were based on actual events that went down on my high school wrestling team or those of other acquaintances. Needless to say, I am not a fan of institutionalized bullying. Also, experimenting with the writing format to try and sound like a typical young adult novel. Comments are appreciated.

I didn’t learn much math that night. By the time Spoony had stopped crying and made himself presentable, Mrs. Antwiler had dinner ready—the same bland food every Midwestern mother seems to cook, but I wasn’t complaining. After dinner, Spoony and I did try to focus on our work, but I could tell he was distracted and at the end, my understanding of the subject was probably worse than it had been before.

I didn’t care, though. In the grand scheme of things, Spoony’s happiness was much more important than my algebra grade.

I left by curfew, deciding not to mention the incident again. After all, if we didn’t talk about it, it didn’t happen.

The next day went as usual, with nothing remotely interesting going on. I keep stealing glances at Spoony in math, but he seemed to have decided not to mention it, either. I knew he was thinking about it, though, by his moody expression and the way he kept unconsciously rolling his shoulders, but he gave me a look that clearly said he didn’t want to hear about it.

Of course, he didn’t seem to want to hear much of anything. He was completely silent as we walked to lunch, and he sat down with an air of dejection, not looking at anyone. Fortunately, Critic was busy rambling about his play, so no one noticed.

“We have a month and a half and we don’t even have a set design!” he moaned as we sat down.

“You do have a set design,” Chick sighed. “You just don’t like it.”

“It’s a fucking disaster!” Critic whined. “I mean, I know your boyfriend designed it, but it isn’t feasible or desirable on our budget!”

“He did his best, as per you instructions,” Chick snapped back.  “And what exactly is wrong with it?”

“You need to have space to move?” Critic deadpanned. “Especially if Roses goes through with her plans to make you wear full petticoats.”’

“I’ll tell him to keep working on it,” Chick said quickly. “Did you have anything in mind?”

“Something with less stuff!” Critic commanded.

“But stuff is awesome!” Nella interjected. “If we put enough stuff on stage, the audience won’t notice our acting!”

“That’s not a good thing!” Critic cried.

“Did you see Film Brain in rehearsal yesterday?” Nella asked.

“…I’ll allow some stuff,” Critic muttered.  “But not too much!”

I wanted to contribute to the discussion, to participate in something I actually cared about. But I didn’t know what to say or how to help. I wondered if I even belonged there anymore.

Somehow, that question was worse than anything else I could imagine.

*

It was Friday, so we had to weigh in. I hadn’t been worrying about my weight thus far since I generally fluctuated in the middle of my class, so I didn’t think too much about it.

“Lovhaug!” Coach Ogreski called. I stepped up, not paying too much attention until he asked, “Jesus, Lovhaug, did you go on a binge this week?”

I glanced at the scale and blushed, realizing I had somehow gained five pounds. I shook my head timidly. “No, sir,” I muttered.

“Lose ten pounds for next week,” he snapped.

“Yes, sir,” I said, wondering how I was going to do that before stepping down.

As I moved to the back of the room, I could hear the sniggers and whispered insults, but I did my best to ignore them. I rejoined Spoony in the corner furthest from everyone else. He smiled encouragingly at me.

“Don’t feel bad,” he said. “It’s because you’re gaining muscle.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m overweight.”

“Don’t worry,” Spoony said. “You can always give the extra eight to me.”

I laughed. “Don’t think they’ve invented that surgery yet.”

“Well, they should,” Spoony said. “And as soon as I’ve become a super-genius surgeon, I’m going to.”

“You won’t have to,” I said. “By then, I’ll be President and I’ll have made high school wrestling illegal.”

“Don’t think it works that way,” Spoony said.

We started practice before I could respond, but it went about as usual. I did fairly well, managing to actually get a pin, so I was in fairly high spirits when we got back into the locker room.

My good mood evaporated when I was shoved sideways the moment I walked in the door of the locker room, hard enough that I fell over.

“Oh, sorry,” Brewer said. “Didn’t see you there.”

“How could you not see him?” Evans asked. “He takes up the entire doorway.”

I got up and tried to walk past them, but they blocked my path. “Where are you going, fatass?” Brewer asked, pushing me down again. “Don’t you know what happens to guys who don’t make weight?”

I didn’t want to find out, but Brewer put his foot on my back to prevent me from getting up.

“Don’t move,” he said. “Not until you’ve learned.”

I stopped struggling, wondering what they had in mind. Brewer hauled me up by my collar before pulling my arms behind my back.

“What’d Coach say, ten pounds?” Evans asked. “That means ten hits.” He stepped up and delivered the first hit to my stomach.

I grunted in pain and started struggling again. Evans punched me harder, knocking the wind out of me. “Keep fighting and it doubles,” he growled.

I stopped and he started hitting me faster, harder. I think I might have blacked out at some point because one minute he was beating me and the next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground and the seniors had wandered off. Spoony was kneeling next to me.

“Can you get up?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I gasped, pushing myself into a sitting position. Unfortunately, just that amount of movement made me start coughing uncontrollably. Spoony rubbed my back until I stopped. “Do you need help?” he asked.

“No,” I said, pushing myself to my feet. I had to be the tough one. I couldn’t let Spoony down. I dragged myself into the showers without looking at him.

By the time I was done, everyone except Spoony had already left. I didn’t speak as I got dressed.

“We should say something,” Spoony said.

“No,” I answered. “No one will listen. I just have to lose the weight.”

“Linkara…”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I can do it.” I grabbed my backpack and left without another word.

My mom was waiting for me and I rode home in silence in spite of her chatter.

“Wash up for dinner,” she said as soon as we got in the house.

“I’m not hungry,” I muttered before I went to my room and slammed the door.

They wanted me to lose ten pounds. Fine. I would, whatever it took.

Previous | Next