my arm. Turning my wrist, I bent his thumb back, forcing him to let go.
His voice was pitched too high as he said, ‘What. Did. You. Say?’ It came out like that. Like separate sentences. He was obviously terrified and I didn’t have the heart to make him suffer anymore.
‘Relax, Brady. Your secret is safe with me.’
He stared at me intensely, as if gauging how much he could rely on those words. Then he seemed to collapse in on himself, though from relief or fear I couldn’t tell.
Finally, he whispered, ‘What do you know, Remy? Who told you? Who else knows? Oh, God,’ he ended with a little whimper. It was embarrassing.
‘No one told me. I saw you. I was there.’
‘You were there? Oh, Jesus God, I’m a dead man. They’ll throw me out. Oh, God, it’s over.’ His face was pale, the freckles standing out, and tears filled his eyes.
I moved in closer to him, grabbing him by the shoulders. ‘Sam! Stop it! Get a hold of yourself! Who are they? What are you talking about? I haven’t told anyone. I just want to know what is going on. Are you OK? Are you in something over your head? What’s going on? Do you need help?’
‘OK, OK. I’ll tell you.’ He was trying to get control of himself, and I waited. He made several false starts, but kept lapsing back into silence. I glanced at my watch and realised that I didn’t have time for this right now, even though I was dying to hear what he had to say.
‘Listen, Sam. I have to get to class. Meet me at the fountain during free time. Get yourself together. And relax. I won’t give you away.’
He looked at me with a mixture of gratitude and terror. I hurried away, wondering if he would meet me or not.
* * *
I waited by the fountain, having arrived just in time. No Brady. Five minutes passed, then ten, and I was almost ready to give up and leave when I saw him running toward me.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ he said breathlessly. ‘I couldn’t get away right away. I had, um, duties to perform.’
I waited, without saying anything, for him to catch his breath. After a minute he said, ‘Let’s get out of here. Too public. Let’s go over there.’ He gestured toward a little path away from the main buildings of the campus. I followed, expectant about what he was going to tell me, but biting my tongue. I didn’t want to scare him off. I wanted him to feel safe enough to tell me everything.
We came to a wrought-iron bench where Sam sat, looking around as he did so to make sure we were alone. He fidgeted and wriggled until he finally tucked his legs up under himself, which made him look like a little kid, all freckles and knees.
‘OK,’ he said after a moment, ‘what do you want to know? You caught me. If I confide in you, will you promise not to tell anyone? Please, Remy, promise.’
‘Of course I promise, Sam. Who would I tell, anyway? Who would even believe me? I half don’t believe it myself, except that I saw it with my own eyes. And why the hell were you guys out practically in the open if you didn’t want to get caught? At first I thought it was some hazing thing, but then I saw your reaction. Sam, you loved what they were doing to you, didn’t you?’
He turned away, but not before I saw the colour again creep into his cheeks. His skin was the sort that showed every mark, every flush, with painful clarity. It was barely a whisper as he said, ‘It’s more than that. I live for it.’ I heard the drama starting to creep in; Sam was histrionic in the extreme.
‘Tell me,’ I whispered back, my curiosity raging.
‘You promise — ’ Again the hesitation.
‘Yes, yes,’ I shot back impatiently. ‘Come on, Sam. Tell me before I beat the shit out of you. I mean — ’ Here I broke off, stammering, suddenly confused as I realised that beating was what he craved, though surely not what I had in mind. To clarify I said, ‘And not the good way!’
We both laughed then. It sounded so silly. Somehow that changed the mood and Sam
His voice was pitched too high as he said, ‘What. Did. You. Say?’ It came out like that. Like separate sentences. He was obviously terrified and I didn’t have the heart to make him suffer anymore.
‘Relax, Brady. Your secret is safe with me.’
He stared at me intensely, as if gauging how much he could rely on those words. Then he seemed to collapse in on himself, though from relief or fear I couldn’t tell.
Finally, he whispered, ‘What do you know, Remy? Who told you? Who else knows? Oh, God,’ he ended with a little whimper. It was embarrassing.
‘No one told me. I saw you. I was there.’
‘You were there? Oh, Jesus God, I’m a dead man. They’ll throw me out. Oh, God, it’s over.’ His face was pale, the freckles standing out, and tears filled his eyes.
I moved in closer to him, grabbing him by the shoulders. ‘Sam! Stop it! Get a hold of yourself! Who are they? What are you talking about? I haven’t told anyone. I just want to know what is going on. Are you OK? Are you in something over your head? What’s going on? Do you need help?’
‘OK, OK. I’ll tell you.’ He was trying to get control of himself, and I waited. He made several false starts, but kept lapsing back into silence. I glanced at my watch and realised that I didn’t have time for this right now, even though I was dying to hear what he had to say.
‘Listen, Sam. I have to get to class. Meet me at the fountain during free time. Get yourself together. And relax. I won’t give you away.’
He looked at me with a mixture of gratitude and terror. I hurried away, wondering if he would meet me or not.
* * *
I waited by the fountain, having arrived just in time. No Brady. Five minutes passed, then ten, and I was almost ready to give up and leave when I saw him running toward me.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ he said breathlessly. ‘I couldn’t get away right away. I had, um, duties to perform.’
I waited, without saying anything, for him to catch his breath. After a minute he said, ‘Let’s get out of here. Too public. Let’s go over there.’ He gestured toward a little path away from the main buildings of the campus. I followed, expectant about what he was going to tell me, but biting my tongue. I didn’t want to scare him off. I wanted him to feel safe enough to tell me everything.
We came to a wrought-iron bench where Sam sat, looking around as he did so to make sure we were alone. He fidgeted and wriggled until he finally tucked his legs up under himself, which made him look like a little kid, all freckles and knees.
‘OK,’ he said after a moment, ‘what do you want to know? You caught me. If I confide in you, will you promise not to tell anyone? Please, Remy, promise.’
‘Of course I promise, Sam. Who would I tell, anyway? Who would even believe me? I half don’t believe it myself, except that I saw it with my own eyes. And why the hell were you guys out practically in the open if you didn’t want to get caught? At first I thought it was some hazing thing, but then I saw your reaction. Sam, you loved what they were doing to you, didn’t you?’
He turned away, but not before I saw the colour again creep into his cheeks. His skin was the sort that showed every mark, every flush, with painful clarity. It was barely a whisper as he said, ‘It’s more than that. I live for it.’ I heard the drama starting to creep in; Sam was histrionic in the extreme.
‘Tell me,’ I whispered back, my curiosity raging.
‘You promise — ’ Again the hesitation.
‘Yes, yes,’ I shot back impatiently. ‘Come on, Sam. Tell me before I beat the shit out of you. I mean — ’ Here I broke off, stammering, suddenly confused as I realised that beating was what he craved, though surely not what I had in mind. To clarify I said, ‘And not the good way!’
We both laughed then. It sounded so silly. Somehow that changed the mood and Sam
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