Bliss

“the mongrel cat came home
holding half a head
Proceeded to show it off
to all his new found friends
he said "i been where i liked
i slept with who i liked
she ate me up for breakfast
and screwed me in a vice

and now i don't know why
i feel so tongue-tied"
-Radiohead, “Myxomatosis”

All Casey needed was that bell sounding off the end of this day; he was ready to go immediately, his bag already packed to go. He hadn’t exchanged one word or look with Stan, fearing that Zeke had said something to them. Stan didn’t look over eager to speak as he secretly read a comic book he’s stuffed in his English Lit. Textbook that entire study. Casey made for the door; anxious to just go home and forget this day happened. He didn’t get five feet from the classroom when a hand took his shoulder. He turned, seeing Will standing there. “Oh,” he said, turning to him. He noticed the grave expression on Will’s face and swallowed.

“Come with me a minute,” Will said blankly, turning down the hallway. Casey followed, his feet feeling like chunks of lead as he went. His own classroom was just down the hall; he went to the door and stood there, waiting for Casey. Once the both of them were inside, he shut the door and put his hands in his jacket pockets.

“What’s up?” Casey nervously asked. Will sighed and closed his eyes.

“I heard what had happened in the hall, after you left.” He stated. Casey blinked hard, gnawing his lip.

“Oh… yea,”

“Casey…” he started, sounding strained and agitated. He ran his hands in his hair now, walking over to his desk. “Someone knows about this. That’s not good.”

“But Zeke… he said he wasn’t going to tell-“

“Doesn’t matter, Casey. He knows. That all I have to know.”

Casey swallowed again; this time a hard lump seemed to have formed, hurting as he forced his throat muscles to move. “It’s… it’s okay, though. Like I’d said, he’s my friend,” Casey said, knowing how doubtful he sounded. ‘Oh please,’ he thought, ‘don’t read this like that…’

“Casey… GOD, you don’t GET it,” Will said, his voice getting louder. He leaned on the front of his desk and chuckled wryly, staring at the floor. “You, you’re going to graduate in a few months. You’re gonna leave this place and not come back. You’ll probably get into a great school, get a good job, live life the way ANY seventeen-year-old lives life. Me?? Okay, do you even BEGIN to understand what could happen here??”

Casey’s lower lip shuddered. “You’re acting… like it’s all my fault.”

“No, no Casey… it’s-” Will started to say, seemingly having trouble breathing. “I could lose my job. Never MIND ‘A’ job, but working in schools entirely. Things like this go on records and stay there. I’d be lucky if I got a job working at a corner store after some revelation that I’m fucking a student,”

“Stop making me feel guilty.” Casey shot out with, his voice now trembling with shattered nerves.

“I’m not trying-“

“NO. Stop it. You can say it’s not my fault all you want, but the way you’re talking…” Casey paused here, shaking his head with disbelief. “I mean, ‘I’m fucking a student’?? Can you put it a LITTLE more crass than that??”

“That’s what it IS, Casey!” Will stated firmly.

“Who gave you the fucking blow-job on Friday? Was I a ‘student’ then??”

“All right, now you’re just making yourself get upset.” Will replied dismissively.

“No, all this crap, this talk about how you’d ‘lose your livelihood’ because of ME-“

“CASEY!” Will nearly yelled, shocking Casey to silence. He couldn’t help the tears from forming in his eyes now, staring at Will, hurt. Will growled out a breath, running his hand over his eyes and keeping them there as he spoke on. “You and I- BOTH know- that this is an unconventional situation. That it’s damned near criminal,”

“I’m… of age…”

“Christ, by what?? A year, maybe only a few months?”

Using his age against him now, after everything they‘d done already made Casey set his jaw tight. “All right, goodbye,” Casey said, turning briskly to the door. He opened it as Will stood up and opened his mouth to call out to him, but stopped once the throngs of students leaving for home bustled nearby. Casey nearly ran through the crowds, trying to hide his face as he went.


******


Sure, Casey had been intoxicated before; he’d never known the blurry hell of drugs until he’d snorted Zeke’s scat months before. He remembered feeling numb and intensely silly, giggling until his throat was sore. After he’d come out of it with a blinding headache, he swore he’d never do anything like that on purpose. However, when he got home and found that his parents were going out for the night again, the only thing he wanted to do was to forget; forget everything that had happened that day. Forget the cold, harsh realities that were placed now in front of him.

Casey poured out another glass of bourbon from a bottle his father probably wouldn’t miss. He specifically chose this one from the way back of the cabinet; it looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. Even if Casey’s father DID notice, he wouldn’t care at this point. It wasn’t taking long for the alcohol to take its effects; in standing up to go sit back at the couch, he felt dizzy, having to grasp the edge of the small side table next to it. He opened his eyes wide and moaned, feeling lost and confused.

He knew better than this. He knew he was worth much more than a quickie in the back of a stranger’s car, or even that stranger’s bed. That’s all Will was at this point; a stranger, someone Casey didn’t know… didn’t WANT to know anymore. Yet there was no denying that Casey had fallen for it all. At this point, everything Will had told him was a lie.

He wasn’t wanted, gorgeous, or anything good; anything Will saw fit to say. It was all “in the moment” for Casey now. Nothing was real, or wanted. The alcohol was numbing, yes, but it was just like getting numbed for surgery. There was still pressure and the uncomfortable notion that something bad was happening to you. No matter how many drinks he may gulp down, he’d wake up the next day- feeling worse, on top of it all.

The doorbell rang then; Casey frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone; he smiled wryly, thinking on just WHO it might be. “Come crawlin’ back, huh?” he muttered to himself, fighting with his wobbly legs to get to the door. “Miserable fuck…”

He finally reached it and opened it wide, ready to hurl drunken insults Will’s way, not caring how stupid he may sound in doing so. However, Will wasn’t on his porch. Zeke stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking to Casey with a soft expression in his eyes. Casey glared, holding onto the doorframe for support. “Whattaya want?” he asked, voice drawling horribly.

“Jesus Christ. Never thought I’d see the day when you got toasted, Case,”

“Fuck you.”

Zeke rolled his eyes. “Can I come in?” he asked. Casey shrugged, opening the door wider. Zeke walked in, sighing deeply as Casey shut the door with his back, sticking his tongue to his inside of his cheek.

“Di’ya hear me back there? I’d said ‘fuck you’, Zeke,” Casey slurred.

“I did, Case,”

“Funny that ya don’t come ‘round much anymore, but now that I’m fuckin’ a teacher, what?” Casey said with a stupid grin. “What- is there somethin’ ya want from me now? Now that you know I’m whorin’ out?”

Zeke turned to him, blinking and shaking his head slowly. “Case, cut the shit. All right?” he told him firmly. “I’m here because I wanted to say ‘I’m sorry’ about assaulting you with everything I said, right in school. I’m sorry I upset you.”

“Pfft… right. Like it fuckin’ matters,” Casey mumbled out, going from the door back into the living room. He flopped down on the couch as Zeke sat across from him on the small loveseat. “Ya done ruined everything, ‘Zekiel. Will heard ya, me an’ you, fightin’ in the halls. Scared him to death.”

“Good.”

Casey frowned, looking to Zeke with narrowed eyes. “Good? You think it’s good?”

“Yea, sure as shit I do. Maybe now he’ll get it in his head that he shouldn’t be fucking around with his students.” Zeke coldly replied. “Maybe now you’ll get it through YOURS that things like this fuck things up.”

“I get it, I get it,” Casey rushed out with, sitting up slightly to pour more bourbon into his glass. “You come by hear all ‘so sorry Casey!’, when REALLY you just wanna lecture me on shit you’ve done yerself.”

“Like I’d said back at school. I’ve never done anything like you have.”

“And that makes you better than me,”

“Case, GOD…” Zeke said, frustrated. He shook his head and sighed. “Will you just STOP making out like you’ve got it worse than everybody?? You’re FINE. You’ve ALWAYS been fine-“

“And THAT’S why I’ve gotten the living SHIT kicked outta me all these years, eh? Because I’m FINE, and I’ve ALWAYS BEEN fine?? For fuck’s sake, Zeke! Who are you talking to, me or some jock-headed jackoff??” Casey nearly yelled, looking to Zeke with contempt. Zeke’s jaw tightened as he began to speak again.

“So you’re screwing around with Will because… you’ve gotten beaten up. That’s fantastic logic, Case. Really, it is,”

“Oh, and what the fuck do YOU know, Zeke?? Jesus…” Casey lamented, lying back down and putting one hand over his eyes. “It doesn’t matter anymore anyways. Because of what you did, he doesn’t wanna see me anymore, anyways.”

Zeke’s eyebrows rose. “Good.”

Casey’s insides stilled hearing Zeke talking like this. He wanted nothing more than to jump at him and hurt him somehow, any way he could. To make him feel SOME kind of pain, just so he knew how torn up Casey was inside. “You’re a real fucker, Zeke. A real, honest-to-goodness f-fucker,” he stammered, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

“At least I’m a realistic fucker, Case.” Zeke said. “What made you better in being with that guy, anyways? What did he do for you that made you feel better about yourself, hmm? What do you NOT see in the mirror each day?”

Casey swallowed, rubbing his eyes. “I’m sure there’s some football practice you’re missing, God KNOWS if they hear you came to visit me-“

“WHAT… do you not fucking see, Case?” Zeke said. “You know what I see?”

“I don’t fuckin’ care what you see.”

“I see a lost little boy who’s needed someone to tell him that he’s loved. Not during sex, Case- anybody can say ‘I love you’ during sex. And I’d bet everything I have that you’re nothing but some boy-toy to him, and he hasn’t bothered with anything but telling you you’re ‘cute’ or some stupid bullshit like that. Isn’t that it, case? Am I right?”

Casey growled deep in his chest. “Stop it.”

“I’m right, and I know it.”

“Shut UP!!!” Casey now screamed out his words, going into an abrupt stand. He wavered a moment as he pointed an accusing finger at Zeke. “What the FUCK do you know, huh?? You don’t know SHIT!! You don’t know him and you most FUCK all don’t know me!!”

“I know you’re better than all of this Case- and if you’d just stop to think on that, maybe you’d be able to see how right I am about all of this.” Zeke told him. Casey snarled, huffing and puffing out breaths quick.

“Fuck you,”

“Say that all you want, I really don’t care.”

“FUCK you.”

“Go on, again. I wanna see ‘pissed-off’ Casey Connor more than anything right now.”

Casey wasn’t thinking. All he knew was that he was suddenly rushing at Zeke, one fist out, catching him off guard and on his right cheek. Zeke’s head went back into the seat’s cushion, bouncing off slightly as he grunted out in pain. Casey stepped back, his eyes wide and full of wet. “Oh…” he muttered, swallowing hard. “Zeke… oh fuck…”

“Ow…” Zeke muttered, touching his cheek. His lips shuddered, smiling slightly. “Well fuck me, Casey Connor. You DO have a good right hook, there,”

“Sh… shut up,” Casey said, feeling the tension in his face dissolving. He knew what was coming, felt his eyes get the familiar sting. He bit his lip, hard, turning. “I… go, just go the fuck home…”

“Case-“

“I SAID, GO-“ Casey went to argue; his feet suddenly slipped out from underneath him, the lightheadedness taking over as he’d rushed too fast towards the living room doorway. His body fell in a loud ‘thud’, making him lose his breath. He began choking and wheezing, coughing as he tried regaining composure. NOW he felt like a total idiot. No longer able to withhold his crying, he felt his cheeks go warm and wet, eyes overflowing. He let out a small, keening cry, his head lowering to the hard wood floor. He felt so bad right now; it only felt worse as a hand was put on his back now, touching him gently. “Don’t fucking… touch me…” he mumbled out, the tears on his lips making his words moist with sadness.

“Shh,” Zeke soothed, now rubbing circles over Casey’s shirt. Casey wanted to protest some more, but his throat hurt so much right now it ached to cry. He simply lay there, for how long, he didn’t know. When his chest eased he trembled back sobs, opening his eyes to stare at the floor, holding Zeke’s shadow just past his own.

“Why’d ya hafta go off and be football?” he asked, voice gone nearly unintelligible. Zeke must have understood however as he sighed.

“There are reasons. Just trust me on this.”

Casey didn’t know how to comprehend this cryptic statement; he didn’t want to bother, not now. He was so tired…