Monday March 6th
Dad let me stay home today. He knows I don't have stomach flu but is wisely keeping his counsel and allowing me to be a slacker for once in my life. I have a 48-hour hangover to recover from as well as a seriously bruised reputation and a world that has been turned upside down. It's too much for my fragile psyche and I am staying in bed. I was hoping to sleep all day and avoid any introspection but I am wide-awake, staring at the ceiling wondering what Stu is doing. Who am I kidding? I'm wondering what The Quarterback is doing. Has he gone into school and is it just business as usual? I can imagine all scandal has merely brushed his golden exterior and left him unmarked. No one will think the worse of him - he's just been doing what's expected of the Alpha Male (although I am sure there will be discussion about his dubious taste in mate) And is he thinking of me? And if he is thinking of me what are his thoughts? There lies trouble, letting my thoughts roam in that direction. I think the way to deal with this dangerous animal is to accept him for what he is and no more. He is a creature of the wild and his thoughts are not my territory.
When I heard voices downstairs earlier, I woke with a start thinking it was Him, stupidly. Of course it wasn't but it was Stu and I was so pleased to see him despite the shame I still felt. He came and sat on my bed and looked at me in that little girl way he has and made me laugh, and then we were both laughing and he was snorting, "you look so rough!" Well thanks. But it was suddenly very funny that I was lying in bed at four in the afternoon for no reason other than cowardice. "And I thought I was the Drama Queen," said Stu.
I wanted to ask him about The Quarterback so badly but I knew Stu would have to broach that subject himself. I did say I was sorry and he wanted to know what for. This is why I love him.
A long time after he turned up he finally broached the subject; Stu has always been one for suspense. "So the Quarterback spoke to me today." And? "He apologised for what he'd done to me in the past. He said I must be a pretty cool guy if I was your best friend."
I was speechless.
"He's got it bad, girlfriend."
I was still speechless.
"What have you done to him? Do you have some secret sexual trick I didn't know about?"
"OMG, you do! What is it? Spill!"
I laughed and stuck my head under the duvet.
"You are one lucky bitch."
"I don't feel very lucky," I said from under the duvet. "I feel like I've done ten rounds with a man-eating tiger and been left for dead."
"Jeez, what the hell have you two been up to?"
I emerged from the duvet. "Stu, I'm being serious. I have no idea what is going on in that boy's head."
"He's a guy; of course you have no idea. HE has no idea what's going on in his head. And that is one gorgeous head, let me add."
"I thought you hated his guts."
"Well, there you are wrong. I have spent the last six years fantasizing about that boy. It was him undressing in front of me when we were 12 that made me realize I was gay. I hate his guts because I know I can never have him or even hope to have him."
Now I really was sorry. Poor Stu, how painful must it be to be discussing this with me of all people?
"Do me a favour honey. Tell me he's not all I imagine. Tell me his kisses are too sloppy and he fumbles."
"His kisses are too sloppy and he fumbles."
Stu smiled, "He's as good as he looks isn't he?"
"And then some."