Rough Edges
Chapter 40
Learn From It
<Larry Sanders>
I nuzzled Phil and gave him a kiss on the back of his neck as he busily cooked up bacon and eggs for Saturday breakfast. “Good morning, sweetie,” I whispered in his ear as I licked his lobe.
“Careful or you’re going have me getting grease on my important parts,” Phil said as he started to flip the eggs.
“You have an apron covering those,” I pointed out.
“It won’t do me any good if I flip the entire frying pan on me from sexual excitement.”
“The invitations are going out Monday,” I told him. “How’s that for excitement?”
“It works for me. How is the reluctant groom feeling about it?”
“Hey, guy, I was reluctant until I wasn’t, and then I was all in.”
“Which is pretty much how you have always played poker.”
“Don’t forget who usually takes what from whom in a poker match.”
Phil chuckled. “Yep, from my clothes to my money, you’ve owned me at the poker table.”
“Now, let me stick some slices of bread in the toaster while you set the table.” When it came to the kitchen, Phil was the unquestioned boss, just like I was out in the garden.
After the food was served and we started eating, we resumed our chat about the upcoming wedding. “And what are your feelings about the wedding now that you’re committed?” I asked him.
“I’ve always been for it.”
“Just like when we were turning into teens, you were always for something else.”
“Yep, only this time I had no self-doubts.”
“And no dark funks to fight.”
“Hey, I just had the one that summer, and I don’t mean the usual teen funks, I mean that one super funk.”
“And it was doozy. Thankfully, it was also your last one of those.”
Phil gave me a wry smile and said, “It wasn’t the last one, but it was the last one I let control me. Fortunately, I had friends, a brother, a boyfriend, and one very special educator who reminded me of things I already knew.”
“What blew me away is, you had things going your way and you let it all go to your head.”
“We’ve had this discussion before. Yes, I had a lot of things going my way, but that just masked a lot of unhappiness. Success along with so much doubt in myself led to a lot of conflicts. My self-doubts had me believing I didn’t deserve the success, while my successes made me think I was better than I was and nobody could tell me otherwise. I was a big ego wrapped up in a poor self-image. Talk about a shit pile of teen angst, and I had barely turned thirteen.”
“And silly me just kept loving you, even with all the bullshit going on.”
“And silly you had no idea what that love meant to crazy me.”
“That craziness gave you a pretty good idea of how to handle a lot of troubled kids in our program. I don’t think I would ever have been able to relate to kids like Connor and Marty the way you did. I am much better at dealing with the Chandlers, Jeffreys, Koreys, and Scotts of the world. Even good kids needed some guidance at times.”
“You did pretty well with Blaine, too, not to mention Raul and Zach at state this year. And trust me, you handled Connor and Marty just fine. Face it, we make a great team.”
I flashed him my best smile. “Face it, we make a great couple.”
I’m sure nobody would have guessed the two of us would become committed life-long partners when we were pubescent boyfriends. Jung said once that he was amazed at times that Phil and I could make it through a week together. Daniel and Q have both stated that they saw us being together for life from the moment we told the Wonkeys we were boyfriends—maybe even before then. I love those two, but I think their view of the past is a bit skewed.
Phil’s behavior at the Monday baseball game should have tempered the optimistic view of my fellow Wonkeys. He was being a total asshole, thinking he was entitled to do whatever he wanted and snarling at anybody who thought differently. That was especially true of Coach Wallace who, according to Phil, benched him for no reason. The problem with that theory was the entire team witnessed his lack of hustle and backed our coach’s decision to bench him.
On Tuesday after dinner, I received a phone call from Troy. He asked if he could come to my house and talk to me. I told him it wasn’t a problem and fifteen minutes later he was ringing our doorbell. Troy had his license and drove his mother’s car.
He greeted mom and dad, who were obviously happy to see him. Before we could escape to my bedroom mom insisted we each taking a bowl of chocolate ice cream with us. It was an offer we couldn’t refuse.
As I suspected it would be, the gist of Troy’s visit was Phil and his crappy attitude. “Phil usually listens when he gets into a funk, but this time he seems to be so full of himself he thinks he can’t do anything wrong. That, my friend, is a definition of an asshole.”
I immediately defended my boyfriend. “Phil is not an asshole,” I told Troy forcefully.
“Exactly,” Troy agreed. “Keegan, sadly, is an asshole, but Phil is not. That isn’t stopping Phil from acting like an asshole, though.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I told Troy I felt kind of helpless, that I had no idea what to do.
“Maybe you and your Wonkey friends could kidnap him again like you did back in sixth grade.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that will work again.”
“I have to agree, but it was a thought. There is one person, however, who might help.”
“Who?”
“Mr. Roth.” Mr. Roth was the sixth grade guidance counselor. He had helped Phil deal with his anger problems after the Rodman affair. I knew that Phil liked him and trusted him.
“But Phil is a seventh grader, at least for another week, and Mr. Roth is the sixth grade, not the seventh grade, counselor,” I pointed out.
“I know that Phil has talked to him a few times this year. Phil trusts him. Outside of his coaches and your father he might be the only adult Phil trusts.”
“The way Phil is right now I don’t think he’s going to walk into Mr. Roth’s office and say, ‘I need to talk.’”
“No, but I think if Mr. Roth knew what kind of space Phil was in, he might search out Phil and start a conversation.”
“So, are you going to tell him?”
Troy shook his head. “He doesn’t really know me, but he does know you.”
“Yeah, we’ve talked a couple of times. More about my class schedule than about how I was doing. I mean he knows I’m on the honor roll and that I don’t get in trouble.”
“But he knows you and Phil are best friends. Plus, I think the reputation you have will insure that he will trust your take on how Phil is behaving.”
“But isn’t me talking to Mr. Roth kind of like tattling.”
“No, I think it’s more like helping a friend.”
A sudden thought struck me, and it shook me up enough to ask a question. “Is Phil smoking weed?”
There was a long pause before Troy nodded and gave me the answer I suspected and feared. “Yes.”
“I’ll see Mr. Roth, tomorrow.”
Phil sat next to me on the bus the next morning. He was friendly, but somewhat standoffish. I could tell exactly what kind of space he was in when I asked him if he was going with me to baseball practice that evening.
“I don’t know if I’m gonna go to practice. I mean would you play on a team where you win the game one game and then you get benched the next game for no reason?”
“Jogging off the field is a pretty good reason in my book,” came Q’s voice from behind us. He said what I was thinking of saying, but I spent too much time thinking. We’re talking nanoseconds, but it was enough of an opening for Q to get his two cents in.
Phil turned around and glared at Q. “Who the fuck asked you?”
Q smiled at him and flipped him the bird.
“I ought to kick the crap out of you for being a total dweeb,” Phil growled.
“We should all kick the crap out of you for being a big-headed asshole.”
Phil turned back around, fuming. “That does it,” he said to no one in particular, “I am not going back to that team.”
This wasn’t the first time Phil had threatened to quit a team. So far, he had yet to follow through on the threat—but there was always a first time. I stared out the window and kept my mouth shut.
Phil and I went in our own directions after we got to school. I didn’t know where Phil was going, but I was going to Mr. Roth’s office. I hoped he was in. I knew he liked to walk around the school before classes started greeting students. It turns out that is what he was doing when I entered the foyer, so at least I didn’t have to go looking for him. I walked up to him and told him good morning.
“Good morning, Larry.” Mr. Roth had a way of knowing everybody’s name, even those of students he didn’t see much or hadn’t seen in a long time. I’m sure the fact that I was active in sports and served in the student senate during the first semester helped a lot when it came to him remembering my name.
“I need to talk to you, Mr. Roth…privately, please.”
Mr. Roth didn’t hesitate. Some teachers would want to know what you wanted before they moved, but Mr. Roth wasn’t like that. He was ready to listen to any student. When we entered his office he asked me to sit in the chair next to his desk.
“What can I help you with?” he asked politely.
I told him my concerns about Phil. I’m sure I rambled quite a bit, but I needed to get everything I wanted to say said as quickly as I could. “I know you helped him a lot in sixth grade, Mr. Roth, and I know you talk to him sometimes this year. I know he likes you a lot and listens to you. But right now he thinks he’s so special that nobody can talk to him. I was hoping maybe you could say something to him.”
“I will talk to him, Larry, but I can’t guarantee the results.”
“I know that,” I said, although what I wanted was the guarantee.
“The school year is almost over, so my talk with him is most likely going to be one and done.”
“I understand.” I didn’t really understand; what I wanted was for him to devote all of his energy to my boyfriend.
“Thanks for expressing your concerns and giving me your trust.”
“His brother Troy helps him a lot, but he doesn’t have a dad, and my dad tries to help, but Phil needs somebody like you. Please don’t tell Phil I talked to you, Mr. Roth, or he will hate me, and I couldn’t stand that. He’s my best friend in the world.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t mention our meeting at all. And like I said, I’ll do what I can, but no promises otherwise,” Mr. Roth said, indicating to me that our meeting was over.
Mr. Roth talked to Phil that afternoon. I figured as much when at the end of the day on the bus he said he was riding with me to my house and going to practice with me. He didn’t offer any reason for changing his mind, but I knew in my heart what that reason was.
Phil surprised us after we got off of the bus at my stop. “Sorry I gave you shit this morning,” he told Q.
Q shrugged. “Not a problem, dude. We’re still friends.”
Phil grinned for the first time since Saturday’s game. He and I walked to my house. I waited for him to tell me something about what had changed his mind, but he kept that to himself.
Practice was at five and mom drove us to the field. Phil had been friendly, but was still somewhat distant. When we got the field, Phil had a chat with Coach Wallace. I could see that it was one-sided, with Phil doing the talking and Coach nodding or uttering a few words.
When Coach held the pre-practice meeting he told us that Phil wanted to address the team. He promptly apologized to everybody.
“I know I was a jerk, and I apologize to you guys. Coach says everybody has to hustle all of the time—it’s what makes us winners. And if I’m gonna be your catcher, then I gotta be setting the example. You won’t see me loafing ever again, and if you do you can just go ahead and kick my butt.”
We had a good practice, and Phil was back to hustling like he always did. Q’s mom drove the Wonkeys home after practice—that is all of the Wonkeys except Ben and Tyson, who didn’t play baseball. We were all tired and didn’t say much during the short ride home.
Mom had dinner ready when we came through the back door. We washed our hands and sat down to eat fried chicken, baked beans, and a salad.
Phil had one more surprise left. “May I spend the night Mrs. Sanders?”
“As long as you boys get your studying done and go to bed on time.” My parents were usually cool about Phil crashing here on a school night, and we were careful not to take advantage of it.
“I just have a math final tomorrow,” I said, “and I think I’m ready for it.”
“Same with me, but Larry and I will do a few problems in the back of the book before we go up to his room.”
We spent a half-hour studying and felt confident we’d do fine on the next day’s math final. We put our books away and went to my room. I had no doubt that Phil was going to tell me what was going on, and I was ready to hear it.
“I’ll get naked before you do,” Phil challenged. We stripped in a hurry, but he won. I didn’t care, it was nice just to be sitting naked on my bed with my boyfriend. We sat there quietly, our backs braced by the headboard. Phil leaned his head on my left shoulder.
“I had a weird day, today,” Phil finally said. Then he grinned and added, “No, make that I had a weird week.”
“I noticed,” was all I could think of to say, knowing it sounded kind of snarky.
“I’ve been apologizing to everybody but you.”
“I noticed,” I said again, only this time it sounded totally snarky, which made me feel bad. I should have done what Phil did when he wasn’t in one of his asshole moods—kept my mouth shut.
“Sorry, I deserved that. But, you remember when I promised I would never do anything to hurt you?”
“Yep, and you never have.”
“Yeah, like I haven’t punched you out or tripped you or shit like that. But, I got reminded by two people that you can hurt peeps in other ways, too. So, I guess I hurt you and I’m sorry. I’ll try hard not to do it anymore, but sometimes I don’t pause and then I do dumb stuff.”
I nodded. I knew it was Troy and Mr. Roth who talked to him about this stuff.
“I love you and I’m happy we’re boyfriends. I don’t ever want to ruin that. You and Q were calling me on my bullshit and I wasn’t even listening to my boyfriend and one of my other best friends. Like Troy tells me, I gotta learn from the bad stuff or it won’t ever get better.”
“My dad tells me the same thing. ‘Learn from it, Larry,’ has to be his favorite saying in the world when I fuck up.” I paused for a moment and then said, “I love you Phil, and I’m happy we’re boyfriends, too.”
Phil leaned in and kissed me lightly on the lips. For the first time that evening I felt a stirring in my groin. He ended his kiss and looked me in the eye. “I was totally pissed at you today. But now, I gotta say thank you for pissing me off.”
Before I could ask what that was all about he leaned in again and this time kissed me with tongue. My cock went to instant hard-on. I figured I’d ask him later why he was pissed off and then became thankful.
<Phil Miller>
When Mr. Roth called me out of my second period class to have a chat, I was tempted to tell him I wasn’t in the mood to chat and for him to go fuck himself. But I didn’t do that, which was an indication that I was tired of playing the adolescent martyr and ready to find a way out of the hole I had dug for myself.
We went to Mr. Roth’s little office, where I had spent a lot of time talking with him in sixth grade after the anger management class he facilitated. More often than not, I had asked for the time with him, which he was more than willing to give unless he had something else scheduled. If he did have something, he always got back to me.
His willingness to take the time to listen when many of us felt we had no voice was a big reason I looked up to him. There was another reason as well, even though in hindsight the reason seems rather shallow. Mr. Roth was an assistant football coach as well as an assistant for the varsity baseball team. Being active in athletics always raised the status of an individual in the mind of a pubescent boy.
I won’t go into our entire “chat”. Suffice it to say, I did my best to avoid direct answers to his questions and he did his best to call me on my bullshit. I should note that Mr. Roth was not one to mince words.
“That’s bullshit, and you know it’s bullshit, Phillip,” he told me when I said I didn’t know why I’d been benched in my game on Monday. “You see the world much clearer when your head isn’t stuck up your ass, Phillip,” he reminded me when I finally confessed to smoking pot with Keegan and unnamed friends (I wasn’t about to rat anybody out—he named Keegan without any prompting).
I had ambivalent feelings during our chat. I didn’t want to tell him what I was really feeling because he was an adult in authority while at the same time I wanted to confess everything because he was an adult I trusted. As a result I took the middle road of being a stubborn thirteen-year-old asshole and making him work to extract the information I really wanted to tell him. Mr. Roth was an expert at extracting information. I once told Larry long after our middle school days that Mr. Roth missed his calling as a CIA interrogator.
“You have a great brother in Troy and wonderful friends in Larry, Q, Jung, and that whole group.” He meant the Wonkeys. “Those aren’t the guys you want to fight. You know the right things to do, because I’ve spent over a year watching you do them.”
“I just wish my dad was around,” I mumbled, which was only partly true.
“Well, he isn’t around, Phil, and you’re going to have to accept that and move on. Lean on the people who are here for you now.”
“Like Troy, and you, and Larry’s dad?”
Mr. Roth nodded. “Your friend Larry is pretty special, isn’t he?”
“Nobody could be a better friend than he is.”
“Well, he’s a good kid. You’ve made a good choice in the best friend department.”
Mr. Roth then surprised me by giving me his phone number. “I don’t give this to just anyone—in fact you are only the third student I’ve done this for. The other two were like you—very intelligent and wanting to do the right thing even if they sometimes aren’t sure how. This is for you and only for you. If things get rough, give me a call.”
Our chat ended with his mantra that my mistakes aren’t anything terrible if I learn from them and make amends to anybody I hurt. I also told him I’d stay away from killer weed or any other kind of weed, something I’d been thinking about doing anyway.
I did what I told him I’d do. I made amends and quit smoking pot, and not just for the short term but for the rest of my life. There were still a few teenage and college student forays into the world of alcohol, but I was done with marijuana.
Trust me, that wasn’t easy. Keegan made it readily available, and he had no qualms about tempting me. But Troy helped me out tremendously, even to the point of taking me to a couple of his meetings. They didn’t make much sense to me, but it did show me that people could find ways to stay away from temptation.
I thought at first that Mr. Roth took the time to talk to me because Troy had called the school and said something to him. But later it occurred to me that it was more likely Larry who had talked to the counselor. The idea of him sneaking around behind my back infuriated me at first. I wanted to punch him out as soon as I saw him. Then I paused for a moment and remembered some things Mr. Roth had told me. I took a deep breath and realized that if Larry was the one who had talked to Mr. Roth, he’d done it because he loved me and was my boyfriend. Maybe that was a mature conclusion for a thirteen-year-old to reach, but it made sense to me. It still does.
So, instead of punching out Larry that day, I ended up being naked on his bed with him, ready to do something we’d never done before. I was totally turned on—I just wondered if I would like doing it as much as I had liked having it done to me. I’d find out very soon.
To be continued...
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