Broken & Damaged Love (7 page)

She carried on, and told him everything.

Once she had started she couldn’t stop, even when the floodgates had opened, and she’d cried her way through the more horrific parts. She left nothing out, it was a full disclosure; the abuse, how it all came out at school, the kids tormenting her. And all the while Frank had just sat there, silently holding her together with all the strength he had.

Once she’d finished she managed to look into those soft hazel eyes. They were glimmering with moisture, and tear tracks were running down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” he said raggedly, and kissed the top of her head.

As Tina looked back up those same hazel eyes were looking straight into hers. Tina felt the electricity spike through her like a lightning bolt.

He was still here, and looking at her like that.

Before she knew what she was doing her chin was tilting up, her lips were being drawn to the soft pink cushions of his mouth.

It was all but a moment, but it felt like it was happening in slow motion as Tina’s mouth met Frank’s, drawing her mouth over his in a kiss she needed so badly in that moment.

Frank gasped and jumped back.

“What are you doing?” he asked in shock?

“Kissing you,” Tina exclaimed.

“No, you can’t. Tina!”

Frank’s eyes were wide, and he was beginning to ramble but she didn’t let him finish.

Crestfallen, she looked down at her hands,

“I’m sorry. I should’ve known you wouldn’t want anything more to do with me after that. But I had to tell you. I wanted to be honest with you. I thought, I hoped you’d understand.”

Tears had returned to Tina’s world. She was sobbing, realising how foolish she’d been.

She had been right all along; never tell. It only leads to bad things. Hadn’t she learned that before?

Why was she so stupid? If she’d just continued like nothing had happened, and kept her big mouth shut she still might have a chance.

No. No, she wouldn’t. Why would anyone this lovely ever be interested in her? They’d shared a moment, a magical connection over art. That’s all. No more.

Why had she ever thought there could be more? Tina was thinking all this and more when something cut through her inner noise.

“Tina. Tina. Will you listen to me?” Frank was almost shouting.

What? He was still here (she thought with surprise)? She had thought he’d run away straight after her pathetic kiss.

“Tina!”

His shouts were getting more frantic.

Tina shook herself.

“Frank. Why are you still here?”

She had to know.

“Tina I’m so sorry. I thought you knew.”

“Knew what? You don’t fancy me. Look I’m sorry. I just got caught up in the moment. You’re free to leave when you want. I’ll be fine on my own. I’m used to it. In fact, I prefer it.”

“Tina, it’s your turn to shut up honey. I just thought you knew. I’m sorry. I should have said.”

“You’re waffling,” she warned.

“Yeah, sorry, right. Tina, OK. Here it is. The thing is…I’m gay.”

Ohhhhh, he’s gay. The realisation slowly dawned in Tina’s skull. She was processing the information whilst gawping like a fish, mouth wide open.

“Say something,” Frank pleaded.

There was still silence.

“Please, don’t tell anyone. You have to promise me you won’t tell.”

“Ummm. Yeah. Sorry. Of course I won’t say. But wow! OK, that makes sense. Oh my God, I kissed you. I’m so sorry.”

Her gigantic error now showed itself clearly. ‘Wow how dumb,’ she thought.

“It’s OK. Just maybe don’t do it again?”

“No. I promise. I’m so sorry. I should have known, you’re right.”

“How would you know? I didn’t tell you, and my ‘hey I’m gay’ T-Shirt is still at the dry cleaners,” he mocked. Tina managed to giggle once more at his ludicrous statement. He was very good at those.

“You’re still here,” Frank used Tina’s words back at her, but his voice was just as unsure as hers had been.

“Of course I am. It’s my house,” she retorted.

“OK, Smarty-pants. I’m still here. You’ve not kicked me out.”

“No shit Sherlock.”

“So, we’re OK? You don’t mind that I’m gay?”

“Why would I mind?”

“Ummm…because a lot of people aren’t OK with that. And I’m guessing from that kiss you wanted more than I can give you?”

Tina blushed, “Mmm…how’s about we never mention that kiss again?”

“Oh no. That’s too good not to treasure forever.”

She smacked his arm playfully, “Rat bag!”

“Seriously, can we still be friends?”

“I don’t know. You want to hang around with a whore?”

Frank’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, “Don’t you ever let me hear you call yourself that again,” he roared.

Tina was momentarily taken aback. She’d not seen him lose his temper before, and it rose in a flash. All she could do was sit there staring at him, Guppy-like again.

“Nod if you hear me,” he said more quietly.

She did so.

“Those boys at school were idiots. Stupid, ignorant twats. It was not your fault, Tina. You hear me?”

Another nod was aimed at him. He gathered her up in his arms.

“You’re a beautiful, intelligent, creative girl, and I won’t ever hear anyone say any different. You were a victim, it was not your choice.”

Frank’s shirt felt wet as Tina’s tears soaked through. He gave her one last squeeze before releasing her, so he could look her in the eyes. He placed his hands on her shoulders.

“If I were straight I’d be lucky to have someone like you, Tina.”

She smiled weakly as his words hit home. For maybe the first time ever she began to realise it wasn’t her fault.

Her dad had made her feel that she’d seduced him, but she began to see how it was the other way round. He’d inflicted himself on her.

She hadn’t known any better. It was a start. It’s not like Frank had a magic wand, but it was a tiny glimmer of hope that she may change her perspective of the events of her past.

Tina was sleeping soundly by the time her mum came home from her shift. She was exhausted after her confession to Frank, but she felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders a little.

When they’d said goodbye he’d given her another hug, but Tina felt differently about that contact now.

When she was alone in her bed she’d laid there thinking about Frank. She’d been so confused, and so lost she’d not noticed the subtle signals that might have alerted her to his sexuality.

She cringed as she remembered her pathetic attempt to kiss him. She was so embarrassed. But now she had space to think it made sense.

Never had she felt so at ease with a boy before. He’d gained entry into her personal space without her flinching. She’d misconstrued that as a result of her attraction to him. But no, it was the total lack of threat he posed.

Not once had he tried to impose himself on her. He hadn’t pawed at her, or leered. In fact, he’d never done anything but be her friend.

She let the warm feelings of his assured friendship wash over her now. He knew her story and hadn’t fled, and likewise, she now knew his story too.

They were custodians of each other’s secret. She felt a pure love she had never known could exist. And it was with these happy thoughts and feelings that she drifted off into her safe, comforted sleep.

Tina couldn’t wait to see her friend when she got up the next morning. She got ready hurriedly and rushed to college.

But when she saw Frank in the corridor her steps faltered, and she slowed. She suddenly didn’t know how to approach him. He had seen her and was now looking concerned. His head tipped slightly to one side as he tried to guess what she was doing.

As always, it didn’t take him long to realise her predicament, and he opened up his arms to welcome her to him. Grinning, she sped back up to get her morning hug.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his shoulder.

Frank dipped his mouth to her ear, and whispered ever so softly, “Just because I don’t want to fuck you doesn’t mean you can’t touch me.”

The sensation of his whisper tickled right through her, but she heard his words. She felt a little sad. Frank was such a gorgeous young man, and she would have loved to have him as a boyfriend, but she knew that could never be. He caught the sadness in her eyes as she pulled away.

“Hey, smile please,” he said gently.

And ever willing to obey, she complied. This was going to take some getting used to, but she’d get there. Tina valued Frank’s friendship above all things. His was perhaps the first genuine kindness she’d ever known.

They reluctantly parted ways to go to class. Frank really wanted to talk more. He wanted to be sure his friend was OK. There was so much sadness in her, and he wanted to chase it all away.

The platonic pair met up at lunch time, and Tina was relieved to do something ‘normal’ with Frank.

As they sat chatting inconsequentially her anxieties and what-ifs disintegrated. The heating was on, and with all the people in the canteen it got really hot. Frank rolled up his shirt sleeves.

Tina was tracing the fine sinews of his forearms with her eyes, chastising herself for thinking naughty thoughts, when suddenly she did a double take.

“What did you do?” she asked, nodding at the bruising showing just under his sleeve.

Frank pulled his sleeves down sharply.

“Nothing.”

“OK, now it’s something. I just thought you’d been clumsy. Why won’t you tell me?”

“It’s nothing you want to know about,” he rebuked defensively.

“Hang on. I tell you all about my nightmare life, but you don’t have to tell me your story? Who are the trolls in your painting?” Tina bit out.

She was getting annoyed at the imbalance suddenly looming between them.

Frank took a breath, opened his mouth to say something, but then firmly closed his lips again.

“Well?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Fine, but not here,” he muttered. “Is it safe at yours again this afternoon?”

He started fidgeting with his fingers. Tina began to feel guilty. Sometimes she was just so stroppy.

“Look, I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No. You’re right. It’s not fair. I owe you my whole story. I’ll see you later, okay?”

It was Frank’s time to fear the moment of revelation this time. He spent a very uncomfortable day, mulling over how he’d even begin to tell Tina about his troubles.

Could she understand? How could anyone imagine the feelings of alienation when they’d not been through it? He’d been bullied by people who saw his isolation as a sign of weakness; it had made him an easy target.

He’d been reviled by his father, and now felt like an outcast in his own home. He’d been made to feel like there was something wrong with him; a disease that should be hidden away.

And here he was, about to take the bandage off and show his hideous truth to his friend.

Tina was a great girl, even though there would never be a romantic involvement he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it.

He’d been alone for so long he couldn’t bear it if his only friend retreated. She had seem fine with the fact he was gay, but she’d also been disappointed.

And then there was the way she was already treating him differently. She’d almost not even said hello this morning.

He was seriously worried she was already considering pulling away. What if his story put the final nail in that coffin? But then what was a friendship worth if you couldn’t be yourself?

God knew Frank had not been himself for years, and it was getting boring. He hoped more than anything that with Tina he could reveal his true self.

It would be pure bliss to be able to just relax with one person, to have a respite from ‘the show’.

Frank was agonising over his dilemma all the way to Tina’s house.

Her mum was still thankfully at work. He had time to tell his tale, to roll the dice and see where they lay.

He and Tina walked into the house in complete silence. Tina hadn’t quite known what to say, sensing something big was waiting to unfold, and knowing it had to wait until they were alone.

Tina went into the kitchen and snuck a small glass of red wine from her mum’s box which sat on the counter.

It was her mum’s habit to down a glass at the end of “a long shift”, which to Tina seemed to be all of them. But she didn’t feel it was her place to say anything.

“Here, you look like you could use this,” she said handing the glass to Frank.

He smiled at her as he accepted the ‘Dutch courage’ and checked whether her mum would mind.

“It’s the joy of her having boxes of the stuff,” Tina admitted, “she never notices if a bit goes astray.

“You do this often?” Frank asked.

“No. Just occasionally, you know, just for medicinal purposes,” she winked.

She took a seat on the sofa next to her confidant.

“So, why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?” she asked warily.

“Probably ‘cos you’re not,” Frank replied awkwardly. “Oh God, right. Well, you know I’m gay. Well, you’re one of a very select few that do. And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s not I hid it just from you or anything. I mean. I try to hide it from everyone. I have to.”

“Why?” Tina asked when Frank started to struggle for words.

“Two words; my dad. The bruises? They’re from him. He gets carried away sometimes. He’s not an arsehole. Not like yours. I mean…oh I’m saying this all wrong. It’s just he…my dad hates me being gay. To him I’m not. Not anymore.

“When I was growing up there were signs, just little things that made him realise I’m not normal. I was more interested in helping my mum bake than helping my dad in the garden. I hated getting my hands grubby. I resisted any attempts he made to make me play football. I was always quiet and thoughtful. I wouldn’t thunder around the house yelling at the top of my voice.

“Over the years all those little things added up. I hit my teens and wasn’t showing any interest in girls, but I’d look at the boys passing me by in the street. And my dad tried, oh God how he tried…” Frank’s voice cracked as he tried to hold back the tears.

He drew his thumb and finger in towards his nose, as if trying to squeeze out the pain which had accumulated there.

“It’s okay,” Tina soothed. “Take your time.”

She grabbed his free hand and rubbed it gently with her thumb. “I’m still here.”

Boosted by this small gesture of reassurance Frank took a few deep breaths before continuing.

“The funny thing is it’d be most boys’ dream,” he sneered.

“My dad would buy me lads mags, trying to get me interested in all the titties, but they just made me feel sick. When I was alone I’d desperately flick through the pages trying to find pictures of men.”

Frank covered his face with his hands.

“When I fantasised it was with the images of men in my head. And then I’d cry afterwards, ashamed of my depravity.”

Tears were flowing down his cheeks now, as he made his confession.

“My dad had tried talking to me nicely, explaining it wasn’t God’s way to make someone like this. That I should be interested in girls. He explained how homosexuality is a sin. He doesn’t even go to church every week, the hypocrite,” Frank bit the words out through clenched teeth.

“But then apparently that’s my fault too. He felt unworthy of the house of God. How could he go to worship when his very own son was a sinner? It only got worse as time went by. Then one day he pushed me. He shoved me backwards, making me stumble. He dared me to retaliate “I’ll make a man of you yet,” he shouted at me. I was stunned. I didn’t know what to do.

“He shoved me again, “come on then, fight me,” he spat as he put his face right up to mine. I’ve never seen him so angry. And all the pent up anger and self-loathing just bubbled up inside me. Before I knew what I was doing I shoved him back. I’m so ashamed of myself now, but I couldn’t help it. I was yelling back at him, “ is this what you want? Is it?” I screamed as I pushed harder. He shoved back and I nearly fell. I was so scared I didn’t know what to do. I thought he was going to kill me.

“You should have seen his face. He pulled his fist back, but before he unleashed his fury I let go of mine. I punched my dad. I caught him square in the jaw. I had never hit anyone before. It hurt like hell. But not as much as his return swing.

“I was off school for a week until my black eye subsided enough for me to show my face again. My mum wrote a note saying I had flu. She always takes his side. When my dad hit me I fell on the floor. He stepped closer so he could look down on me. You know what he said?”

Tina shook her head.

“That’s more like it,” Frank was shaking his head, “Can you believe that? The son-of-a-bitch actually smiled as if he’d achieved some great victory.

“After that I decided it was safer for me to play his game. On the days I had PE I’d stay behind after school. I’d tell my parents I was playing football. They never twigged as my kit was returned dirty. I don’t know if they knew I was lying and happy to go along with the deception, or whether they genuinely believed me. But I’d stay behind in the school library. It was quiet and it felt safe. It was a million times better than going home, and I could sit and draw undisturbed by anyone. It was the happiest time of my week. Shit, that sounds tragic,” he sighed. “So, that’s how you didn’t know I was gay.”

“Shit Frank. I don’t know what to say,” Tina said softly, feeling confused.

She was hurt, sad and angry all at once for her friend.

“I made the mistake of confiding in a friend at school. You should have seen him. It was like I had said I’d grown two heads. He physically backed away from me, like I was suddenly going to make a pass at him, or something.

“Then the bullying started. I’d find ‘fag’ painted on my locker. Boys would walk up behind me; on good days they’d mock me. On bad days they’d corner me in a classroom and kick the crap out of me. My dad was reassured that I was getting into fist fights.

“Can you imagine that? The person who should have been protecting me was actually on my tormentor’s side. He thought it was a sign I was ‘manning up’ and rough housing. He refused to see it for what it was; homophobic assault.”

“So the bruises on your arm?” Tina asked, trying to encourage Frank to continue.

He shook his head.

“No. That was just my dad. He started getting worried the gayness was returning and pinned me to the wall by my arms. He was just interrogating me. Of course, I told him I’m straight. No way I’m ever going there again. What the hell do you think he’d do if he actually
knew
rather than just thought I’m gay? Fuck, he might actually kill me,” Frank hung his head, and felt his despair surround him.

“My father hates me. And still all I want to do is make him proud.”

“Frank, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

“At least your dad’s in prison. Mine’s still fucking me,” Frank blurted out.

He took one look at Tina, at the pain his words caused her.

He gasped, “Oh Tina. I’m so sorry. That was an awful thing to say.”

He was reaching for her hands, but she withdrew from him.

“Tina, fuck. I didn’t mean it. Shit. I’m so so sorry. I was so wrapped up... Please. Please don’t hate me. Sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he was crying again now.

Tina’s heart broke. She knew he didn’t mean what he had said. It still hurt like hell, but she knew he was just angry.

She reached out and held his hand.

“It’s OK. But I think I need some of that,” she said taking the now half empty glass of wine from Frank.

She took a sip, then another. It felt good. Its warmth spread through her. She gulped down some more.

“Steady,” Frank warned her.

“Or what? What’s going to happen?” she grinned, downing the rest of the glass.

She strode into the kitchen and poured a glass of wine for herself, and a fresh one for Frank.

“OK, but your mum’s going to notice.”

“So what? What’s she going to do? We’ve already faced the worst, right?”

“Right,” Frank chimed as he clinked their glasses together. “Bottoms up!”

“In your dreams,” Tina teased.

Frank almost spat his wine back out.

“You witch!” he yelped, but he was grinning.

Then he started giggling, which led to him laughing. Tina was laughing along with him. It wasn’t that what she’d said was funny. It was quite insulting, if anything. But it was a catalyst.

They’d both relived the horrors of their childhood in the telling of their tales, but it felt good to share it.

It was no longer a dirty secret hidden away from the rest of the world. They had each found someone to confide in, and it bound them together all the more closely.

It felt good to shed some of the load; it was cathartic. And once they started laughing they couldn’t stop.

Neither of them were used to drinking, and it really didn’t take much for them to get drunk.

They chatted and watched a film as they drank themselves into oblivion. It was the best night of their lives.

They found a freedom with each other that had been lacking so badly before.

For that one night they felt like they could do anything, be anything. Their souls soared like the proverbial bird set free from its cage.

They finally collapsed in a heap on the sofa together and fell sound asleep, at least until Tina’s mum got home.

Well actually, fortunately for them it had been a very long hard shift for Deborah, and she didn’t turn any lights on, didn’t go into the lounge or even the kitchen for her usual wine. She just went straight upstairs to bed, where she just about managed to change out of her clothes before collapsing onto her bed and into a deep sleep.