Coming of Age

Chapter 1
First Contact

Chapter Description: Introduces the main character and sets the stage.

It was only the first day, and in a sense that made all the difference. Later, I would ask myself if my decisions were the right ones. I would ask myself if my actions were those of a good person, or, rather, just of someone who had the propensity to care for anyone else. What we had together was certainly love, though perhaps not in the traditional sense. I could not find myself without him, and he was pained whenever I was not by his side. Even now, as he and I reminisce, quietly and happily, he sits in my lap. I feel the soft tickle of his breath on my chest, and he lays his head against me, focusing on my warmth, my heartbeat. I am in serenity, and I only write out of selfishness. I cherish the beauty that is this moment and the moments leading up to it. I only wish to capture this so that Time might not snatch it from my mind, as He must be quite angry at the figurative egg on His face.

* * *

His given name was Gabriel, and I had genuine concern for him from his first night in the dorm. As I dutifully jogged to his car to grab boxes, as I had done for each new freshman that morning, I saw him in the backseat looking more like a deer in headlights than a new high school boarding student. Out of nowhere I felt a clap on my shoulder from behind. I had hardly noticed; his parents had exited the car and come behind me.

“Hey there,” he said, grinning in stark contrast to his son’s face in the car, “Glad to have your help.”

“Of course,” I said.I struggled to find a response. If I tried to match his enthusiasm, he’d certainly know how fake it was.

“Hi.”

I turned just to my right, seeing the boy just behind (and below) my shoulder.

“Hey there bud,” I said, grabbing the frontmost box from their trunk as a few other seniors did the same, “Where’s your r––”

“109,” came from in front of me once more, short, and exceptionally sharp. The mother’s stern mouth and the father’s sculpted jaw left me rather confused about their son, who’s features were about twice as soft as his parents’ were hard.

As I walked, box in arms, toward Gabriel’s new room, I couldn’t help but notice what was in the plastic bin I was carrying. For a moment, I could hardly tell what I was seeing, then I craned my neck to look again. There was a sliver of color, and the familiar ‘L’ and ‘E’ of the Legos logo just beside what I could only assume was a soft stuffed bear. I snickered a bit, expecting a few guys who’s maturity hadn’t perhaps caught up with their years. As I turned the corner in the dorm leading to Gabriel’s hall, I only hoped, for his sake, that this was the extent of his more childish possessions.

But just within the room, that fear was immediately confirmed. Two of my fellow senior Resident Assistants were laughing rather quietly within, and I only caught a few words of what they were saying.

“Yeah, Gabriel, that’s right, I was thinking the same thing about that kid.”

I went ahead and walked in. “Whats going on?” I gave the pair a puzzled look as I set the box on the bed. Then my eyes fell upon the answer to my question. Visible beyond the lid of a box, slightly ajar, amidst the mass of clothes pressed flat in a space saving bag, I could see a pair of very white briefs, red bands along the stitching, with power rangers in various cartoonish stances printed across nearly every square inch of the seat. I found myself whispering excitedly with my classmates, until we heard the sharp, high peck of Gabriel’s mother approaching rapidly.

We started to exit the room at amazing speeds, almost walking straight into the mother as we did so. Gabriel, for his part, seemed to be pulled forward by an unseen force, just behind his mother. I caught his eye for just a moment in passing, and his bright blue eyes seemed to plead with me, but only for a moment.

* * *

I sat in my room, unfazed. I was determined to finish at least 3 physics problems before I went around to put the freshman to bed. It was their first night in the dorm, and they wouldn’t start school for two days. There’s no reason for them to relax and stay quiet. That’s what I was telling myself at least. I had my equations set for just my second problem, but I kept hearing another noise above the soft jazz pouring from my headphones, a combination of voices, slowly increasing in volume until I could hardly focus on my music, let alone projectile motion.

Leaving the room, I walked down the hall, hearing the voices a bit more clearly with each step.

“How the hell are you be so stupid?”

“Who even does that?”

“Did you think that NOBODY would notice?”

“The fuck is your problem, dude?”

And softly, what sounding only like sobbing.

I quickened my pace, only to come upon Gabriel, surrounded by about five or six other freshman, looking more panicked than the day I first saw him, tears running parallel on either side of his face. Upon seeing me, he looked slightly relieved and the rest of them looked a bit more civil, quieting down all at once.

“What the hell is going on here?” I asked finally, making my exasperation quite visible.

“He threw all of our laundry on the floor,” yelled one.

“He took all three of the washers for, like, three shirts each!”

“He put his laundry in with mine and now all of my shirts are pink!”

With each charge leveled and yelled, Gabriel’s face became more and more red, twisting up until he was unable to even keep his eyes open.

“Guys, go to your rooms. I’ll touch base with you all later,” I said, putting a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder and pulling him away from the other guys. “Gabriel, come with me for a bit.”

I walked him over to my room, letting him have a seat on the couch. He was still crying quite a bit, but once I closed the door, his sobs intensified, and I realized he had been holding back his crying in the presence of the other freshman.

“What’s the matter bud? They’re just being harsh.”

He looked at me strangely, then began to tell me what may have amounted to about a third of his life story. I heard about each and every bully, about a counselor that never seemed to be available for a meeting, about the perfect father and the overbearing mother. I heard words that obviously had not left his mouth, and words that he certainly seemed to have heard too many times. He cried all the while, the pain from the night’s events and those of the past written on his face. For the first time, I noticed how young he looked in comparison to the rest of the boys. Not a sign of a hair on his face, and no chance of one in the predictable future. He looked like he should be walking through the halls of a middle school beside a teacher, not living 100 miles away at a boarding school.

He finished his story, eventually, and only after an hour of me pushing and prodding him to truly let everything out. As I sent him back to his room for the night, he came at me all at once and hugged me as tight as he could manage. I returned the embrace, allowing him to lean into me and sob against my shoulder just for a bit. I stroked the back of his head, moving my fingers through his brown hair until he had cried his fill and sent him to bed.

* * *

I woke to a tug on my shirt and glanced sideways at my clock. 2:30. I groaned, grumpy and tired, then rolled to the other side only to see Gabriel, crying once again with heavy sobs, a blanket around his shoulders, naked save for a pair of half-red briefs, power rangers across the seat and side, a wide yellow stain across the front.