Tripod

Tripod Chapter 16

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"Tripod"

Chapter 16 --He's Back

Monday morning. Back to school. Back to the regular routine. Tyler, Eddie and I agreed just to meet up at school. We'd gotten in late and wanted the extra time to sleep. Besides, getting fancy coffee and breakfast every morning was getting expensive.

Dad was already sitting at the breakfast table when I came downstairs. I didn't have much time, but I did need a cup of coffee. Dad had made enough for the two of us. No time to make a decent breakfast for myself. I'd have to settle for cereal. Or so I thought. Dad had already made me a cheese omelet and some whole grain toast.

"Morning," I mumbled. I leaned in and gave him a tight hug before I sat down, "I feel really bad about last night."

"So do I," he said. "I wish the world were different. But it's not. Then again, if all of your friends were white, think about what you'd miss out on. All of the amazing things you've seen and experienced just in our own crazy melting pot family has only made you a more empathetic person. Having friends who come from lots of different ethnicities and experiences is a blessing, not a curse."

"I couldn't agree more," I said. "And thanks for getting up to make me breakfast. Did you tell Mom what happened last night?"

"You're welcome. I'll talk to her about it later. It was already late and I know she's had early call times every day this week. I didn't want to freak her out," Dad said.

"What do you feel like for dinner tonight?" I asked.

"I've got clients in town and we need to take them out tonight, so I won't be home for dinner. I probably won't get home until 11:00. I'm sure you'll be OK fending for yourself, right?" Dad asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I won't starve to death," I chuckled.

"Knowing you, you'll cook up a feast for one. Here's some money to buy groceries. We're nearly out of milk and a few other things. Check when you get home, OK?"

"OK," I said, "I gotta run. Have a good one. And thanks again for getting angry at me last night. It showed me how much you love me."

I grabbed my backpack and walked out the door. It was just about a ten-minute walk to school and it was 7:45. I ran up the stairs and into the door, headed for my locker, when I heard a voice call out, "Hey, Jaime."

I turned around to see Brandon Grimes standing there. The sight of him sent shivers down my spine, but something was different. He'd never actually called me by my name before.

"Go away, Brandon," I said, my teeth gritted. "I'm surprised they even let you back in school." I could feel the rage starting to boil up. "You are a despicable excuse for a human being. Get the fuck out of my face and never talk to me again."

"You have every reason to hate my guts," Brandon said quietly, the nastiness and bravado having disappeared from his demeanor. "I just wanted to say that I'm really, really sorry for what I did. I take responsibility for my actions, but you also have to know that my dad pushed me to do and say the things that I said to you and your friends. He's gone now. I just want you to know that I don't hate you or Tyler or Eddie. I hope that someday, you guys will be able to forgive me."

I could see he was sincere and that he was hurting, but I also didn't have time to talk to him in depth. It was already 7:55AM and school started in five minutes.

"Listen, Brandon," I began, "there isn't time right now for me to go into why all of the things you did were hurtful, offensive and just plain shitty. I know that Tyler and Eddie would love to see you expelled and I suggest you don't go near either of them right now. But I also get the feeling that you're sincere. I don't have gymnastics practice today. There's some teacher workshop going on. Do you want to meet me at He Brew at 3:10 and I'll hear you out?"

Brandon's face lit up. I'd never seen him smile before. "You would do that for me? You know, my dad never let me go in that place because it's owned by Jews. You have no idea what it's like having a father like that. I'll see you there at 3:10." He looked like he wanted to hug me, but that was too much, too soon for me.

"See you at 3:10, Brandon." No, thankfully, I had no idea what it was like to have a father like that. I really wasn't sure what I was going to get into here, but I had already committed to it. Now, how to talk about this with Eddie and Tyler.

I decided to wait until lunch, when we'd have time to discuss the subject, but unfortunately, I didn't have that luxury. As soon as we sat down in Mr. Choi's chemistry class, Eddie said, "I hear that asshole Brandon's back. Why the hell did the school allow him back? I mean, short of actually hurting us physically, what could he have possibly done that could have inflicted more pain?"

"I hope he gets what he deserves, to be totally ignored. Don't waste your energy on a shithead like that. It'll drive him crazy," said Tyler.

"He talked to me this morning," I said. Tyler and Eddie shot me a look. "Let's pick this up at lunch." The bell rang for class to begin and our discussion got cut off. Mr. Choi began his lecture for the day. The usual, boring, chemistry lecture delivered by the perpetually beautiful Mr. Choi. When he was finished talking about acids and bases, he cleared his throat and said, "Just a reminder that the Gay-Straight Alliance is having a coffee house on Thursday evening, starting at 7:30PM in the cafeteria. All are welcome to attend. Donations of baked goods would be really welcome, especially since I can't bake to save my life."

I'd never attended one of their events. I had still been in the closet for the last one. So had Eddie and Tyler. Maybe something to add to our social calendar?

At lunch an hour later, Tyler, Eddie and I sat at our usual table. Seán plopped himself down, having decided that he liked our company and our advice. A minute later, Tyler's ex-girlfriend Megan walks up to the table, "Mind if I join you guys?"

"Of course we don't mind, Megan," said Tyler, "I'm just kind of surprised you'd want to, given, you know."

"I'm over it. Or mostly over it. Honestly, I miss you and Eddie. You really are good guys, except for the part where you cheated and lied to me." This started to look threatening, but she just let it go, saying it just as a matter of fact, which it really was.

"Hey, speaking of people who do hurtful things, I hear Brandon's back," she said.

I wanted to take control of this conversation quickly, before the hatred for Brandon could burst out of everyone's mouths.

"He called my name this morning as I walked into school, which was strange because he's never actually called me by my real name before. Then he walked up to me and said he was really sorry for what he did. I thought that the school had probably told him that he had to apologize as a condition for being let back in, but he seemed really sincere. Anyhow, I agreed to meet up with him at He Brew after school to talk to him"

"You what?!" said Tyler. "Are you fucking kidding me? Why would you talk to him?"

Eddie looked like I'd just slapped him in the face. Megan and Seán stared in disbelief.

Eddie swallowed hard and said, "That sad excuse for a human being hung nooses on our lockers. Do you have any clue what that means to an African-American? Do you have any idea of the fear and pain that that caused?"

"I was there, remember? My grandma is black, remember? She never spared me the details of what it was like for her parents to grow up black in the South. It's why her family left there before she was born, so that they could make a better life for her. Unfortunately, Chicago wasn't that much better. Maybe no lynchings, but certainly plenty of racism. Also, my great-grandma survived the Holocaust, remember? Everyone in her family was murdered because they were Jews. And my mom's mom came to Chicago and faced 'No Mexicans need apply.' So, yeah, I know a few things about hate."

Eddie said, "And remember, he put pink nooses on our lockers. He didn't just pick that color because pink rope was on sale at the hardware store. He wanted us to know that the hate was against LGBTQ people, too."

"I also know that it was his father who pushed him to do these things," I said. "Remember, it was his dad who actually caused damage, not Brandon. The kid is all hot air, but he never physically hurt any of us.

"Haven't you ever done anything you've regretted later?" I continued, "I know you have, Tyler. And you, Eddie? And Megan? Seán?" All nodded.

Seán spoke up, "I once told my mom that her jeans really did make her ass look fat. Boy, did I regret that."

I shot Seán a look. "This isn't funny, Seán. Brandon was waiting for me to say he was sorry. He didn't call me 'mutt' or 'half-breed' or even 'tripod,' which is one I let you guys get away with. He called me by my name to say he was sorry. I think the least I can do is hear him out."

"Sorry, Jaime. You're probably right, but I'm not ready to go there," said Eddie.

"Me either," said Tyler. "Even if he is sorry, the guy's a total loser. You're on your own with this one."

"Then I'll report back later," I said. "I'm not suggesting you need to be buddies with Brandon, but have you ever noticed that he's never with anyone? Even other bullies don't want to hang out with him. How would it feel to be totally alone and grow up with no friends?"

"Jaime," Megan said, "he's brought this completely on himself. He hates everyone, so no one likes him. He gets what he deserves."

"Maybe, maybe not," I said.

***

At 3:05, I walked up to the counter at He Brew. "Hey, hot stuff, how's it going?"

Miguel smiled and replied, "It's great. How was your weekend?"

"Awesome, I hung out with my uncle and his husband on Saturday night. They took me to an amazing Mexican place. And yesterday, after I got home from my uncle's, I did some yardwork, then some homework, and then went to the movies with Eddie. Then he and I hung out with Tyler when he got off work. What about you?"

"On Friday night, I helped my mom make pupusas to sell to make some money. I worked here on Saturday and Sunday, then had to catch up on some assignments for college. On Saturday night, I managed to sneak out to a friend's place to play some video games, but since I had to be back here by 7:00AM on Sunday, I had to be home before midnight. Not much of a weekend, I guess.

"Are you here for a visit or do you want to order something?"

"I'll take a frozen iced coffee and a piece of carrot cake," I said.

"How do you manage to stay so skinny and how can you get all of those calories into that hot, little body of yours?" Miguel asked.

"Gymnastics workouts will burn off most of the calories and it helps to have a bottomless pit of a stomach. I can eat almost anything anytime. I'm sure that once I stop school sports, I'll blimp up to 120lbs," I laughed. "Hey, I'm meeting someone here for a coffee. Remember the guy who tied the pink noose on Tyler's car?"

"How could I forget?" Miguel asked. "Isn't that the kid of that asshole preacher who fucked up Tyler's car."

"Yup, that's him. Now that his dad's in jail, I think he wants to apologize. This could get ugly. He did some pretty awful shit. He bullied me for years, even before I came out, calling me names and teasing me because I'm short and mixed. I'm not gonna let this go that easily."

"I'm right here," Miguel said. "If you need backup."

"I don't think it's gonna come to that. He's never tried to hurt me, at least not physically."

At that point, Brandon walked into the coffee shop. He spotted me at the counter and walked over. He smiled weakly and said, "Hey, Jaime. Thanks for showing up."

I grabbed my order and said, "Go ahead and order something. I'll grab a table."

"Everything looks really delicious, but I'm OK. Let's just go sit down," Brandon said. His mouth said, "No," but his eyes looked lustily at the pastry display case.

We sat down at a table and I said, "The rugulach is really amazing. It's like an anti-depressant, but much tastier. Are you sure you don't want to..." Then a thought dawned on me, "Is it because this place is owned by Jews?"

"Fuck no!" he said, looking embarrassed. "All that hate shit was my dad talking. I don't hate anyone. It's a little more complicated than that."

"What then?" I asked.

He paused for a second, then said, "I just found out that for years, my mom wanted to escape with me and my little brother and divorce my dad. She opened up a bank account in her own name. She put away a little money whenever she thought he wouldn't find out. But she could never run away because she was afraid that my dad would find her and hurt her or me or my brother. When my dad got arrested, the government froze all of his bank accounts. When they discovered my mom's account, the FBI interviewed her. After she told them her story, they left the account alone. The problem is that there's not much money there and it's all we have to live on right now. My dad never let my mom get a job, so we're kind of stuck. I'm broke."

"I'm sorry. Let me buy you a coffee and a cookie or something," I said.

"No, thanks. We'll figure out a way out of this. Besides, why would you want to do anything for an asshole like me? I've done my best to make your life shitty."

"I have this weird thing with food," I said. "If you'd asked me for bus fare, I might have told you to go fuck yourself, but I just can't see myself not giving someone money to get something to eat, even if it's for a cookie and an overpriced coffee drink.

"And you really have been a total asshole. So, why should I really forgive you for what you've done? It's not just to my friends and me, but to lots of other people here."

"I don't expect you to understand, but it's like my whole life has been playing a part in a play. I was told that I had to act a certain way. If I didn't, then I had to pay the consequences. My dad told me that everyone else was a horrible sinner who would ultimately pay the price in hell. Until then, my job was to make them pay for their sins," Brandon said, a tear forming in the corner of his eye.

"The day my father was arrested was the happiest day of my life. That sounds sick, I know. Most people love their fathers. I hate mine.

"I can't use my father to cover up for what I said and did," Brandon continued. "I guess I could have been nice to everyone, then tried to lie to my father about what I did, but he could always tell. I'm not a great liar. Anyway, I don't expect anyone to be my friend. I've done horrible things to a lot of people. I'm just hoping that they'll see that I've changed and at least accept my apologies."

Now it was my chance to get weepy, "I can't imagine what my life would have been without my mom and dad. When I felt the worst about myself, they were there to catch me. I'm really sorry that things have been so hard for you. I accept your apology. My dad's not going to be home until late tonight and my mom's out of town on business, so I'll be having dinner alone. Would you like to come over and I'll make us both dinner?"

"This isn't some weird trap where you're gonna tie me up and beat the shit out of me and tell me what a worthless excuse for a human being I am, is it? Brandon said, only half joking.

"I'll only do that if you say my cooking sucks," I smiled.

"That sounds great. Let me text my mom," Brandon said.

While Brandon was texting his mother, I sent a few texts of my own.

Me: Whatcha doing for dinner? I'm home alone until around 11. You guys wanna come over and help me cook?

Tyler: What? And miss out on mom's reheated, pre-packaged meal in a box? What time? Hey, maybe play hide the eggplant after dinner?

Me: 6:00. Sounds good. Can you text Eddie?

Tyler: Sure. (peach emoji)(peach emoji) (peach emoji)(eggplant emoji)(eggplant emoji)(eggplant emoji) I love a balanced diet. LOL

Tyler: Hey, how did your coffee thing with the shithead go?

Me: I'll talk to you about it over dinner. He's a decent guy after all.

Tyler: Not ready to believe that. See you at 6.

Brandon walked over beaming and said, "My mom said that she's absolutely thrilled for me to have dinner at your place."

"Great," I said, "let's walk over to my house, grab my mom's car and head for the supermarket."

As we walked home, Brandon said, "You know, I've never been to anyone else's house. When I was a little kid, neighbors would try to invite me over to play with their kids, but my dad never let us. This is amazing. I feel like a kid in a candy store."

"Are you OK with meatloaf for dinner? With roasted potatoes and parsnips?" I asked.

"Sounds awesome, Brandon replied. "I don't think I've ever had a parsnip. What is it?"

"It looks like a fat, white carrot," I said, "but it has kind of a sweet taste to it. You can't really eat them raw, I don't think. They're in season now. We're gonna get everything in the oven before Tyler and Eddie get there."

"What?! Tyler and Eddie are coming over? You guys really are gonna tie me up and beat the shit out of me, aren't you? You set me up." Brandon looked petrified.

"No! It's not like that! I want to give you a chance to apologize to them, face-to-face. It's the only way I could think of to get all of us into a space where the whole world wouldn't be listening. They know I was meeting you at He Brew after school. They just don't know I invited you for dinner," I said.

"Do you think they'll even set foot in your house when they see me there?" Brandon asked, shaking his head.

"We'll have to see. I'll do my best to convince them to stay," I replied.

After we dropped our backpacks off at home, we drove to the market. There were no hot guys there this time to make me say stupid things! By 4:45, we were home and unpacking the stuff. I got everything organized and set to putting the meal together.

"Can I do anything to help?" Brandon asked. "Even though I know nothing about cooking."

"Let me guess. Your dad said that it was a woman's job and that no man should be seen cooking in a home kitchen?"

Brandon blushed, "Yeah, that's pretty much it. But that asshole's in jail now, so just tell me what you want me to do."

"You can wash and cut up the potatoes and parsnips. Here, I'll show you how to use a potato peeler and how to hold a knife. I don't want you cutting off your fingers and ruining my dinner," I joked. "Just wash the potatoes and parsnips in the sink. Give them a good rub under water with your hands to wash off any dirt." I got Brandon set up with the right tools and a cutting board and he took to the task with a big smile on his face. "Just try to cut everything into more-or-less equal, bite-sized pieces. If you have some that are big and some that are small, the small ones will burn while the big ones won't cook through."

"I think I can handle this. Not too complicated," Brandon said.

My meatloaf isn't your grandma's meatloaf. Well, actually, it is my grandma's meatloaf, but my Mexican abuela's one. When abuela came to live in the US, she was determined to adapt to the culture here, so she took some typical recipes from the US and put her spin on them. This one is one of my favorites.

We use beef and pork, but also cilantro instead of parsley and lots of white onion and garlic. For breadcrumbs, I throw stale telera rolls into the food processor, then mix them into the meat mixture, with a couple of eggs. On top, there's a chipotle glaze, made with chopped chipotles, adobo, piloncillo and a touch of pineapple vinegar that my mom brought back from Mexico.

By 5:55, everything was in the oven. It would need about an hour to cook. Just enough time for a sit-down and to let Brandon relay his apologies and life story.

"I really need to pee," said Brandon. "Where's the bathroom?"

I pointed him in the right direction and off he went. Thirty seconds later Eddie and Tyler let themselves in the front door.

"Hey, Jaime," Eddie said, "you're not gonna believe it, but my mom just told me that her car smells like a locker room and wants me to make sure I take a good shower after track practice. If she only knew." Tyler and Eddie both laughed.

Brandon walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. "Hi," he said tentatively.

Eddie and Tyler turned to me with the anger building in both of their faces, "What the fuck is he doing here?" Tyler asked.

"Dude, what were you thinking? We're outta here," said Eddie.

"Please, sit down...please," I implored.

"No. Brandon's a total asshole and a loser and he made our lives hell. I'm not gonna sit around and wait for some lame excuse," said Eddie.

Brandon seemed to get smaller and smaller as the shouting began. Eddie and Tyler turned and walked toward the door.

"Stop!" I screamed. "Please. Do this as a favor for me. Just five minutes. Isn't that what friends do for their friends?"

Eddie and Tyler stopped. They looked at one another and turned around.

"If it was for anyone but you, there'd be no question, I'd be out the door," Tyler said. "You've got five minutes."

"Please, sit down," I asked.

"We'll stay standing," Eddie said.

Brandon walked over, but stood a safe distance away. He looked at Eddie and Tyler and said, "There is nothing I can say that will ever make up for what I did. The teasing and the nooses I put on your lockers and on Tyler's car was inexcusable. Making you afraid, insulting you for who you are has no place in our school or anywhere else. I just want to say that I'm really, truly, deeply sorry for what I did. And even though I doubt you'd ever want to be my friend, I hope someday you'll at least be able to forgive me." Tears were streaming down Brandon's face.

Eddie was the first to react, "I don't know what to say, Brandon. I know you didn't trash Tyler's car or paint those disgusting things on it, but the symbol you chose to use said the same thing. The pink noose was clever. It means you'd be happy to see both black people and LGBTQ people dead. Do you get that? You can't even begin to understand what it's like to be afraid for your life because of who you are."

"I get that more than you think," croaked Brandon. "I don't want you to think that I'm looking for an excuse for what I did, but every day I was afraid for my life. My father, the Very Reverend Bradley Grimes, is a fucking monster. Every day, since I was a little kid, he told me that other people were shit. If it wasn't because they were 'unrepentant sinners,' it was because they were not white, not straight or not Christian. He told me that my job was to make sure that those people all knew that they were 'worthless scum.' Every day he would ask me what I did that day to make sure that that 'human garbage' was put in its place. But the abuse didn't stop there. If I didn't have a good answer, I'd be beaten."

Tyler and Eddie looked at one another and the look of indignation began to fade and a look of compassion started to creep into their faces.

Brandon hesitated, then took a deep breath, unsure if he could continue. Then he said quietly, "That wasn't the worst of it. From the time I was nine until I was twelve, he would come into my room at night and rape me, saying that he was 'casting out the devil.' It stopped once I hit puberty. But every day he told me that I was a worthless piece of shit. And every day since I was nine, I thought about killing myself. The only thing that stopped me was knowing that it would leave no one to take the abuse instead of my mom or brother. We were all afraid to try to get help because my dad seemed to know everything and know everyone. They all thought of him as a man of God and we all thought they'd believe him over us anyway." Brandon was crying at this point. It was clear he'd never told any of this to anyone. I walked over and gave him a hug and he started to sob.

Tyler spoke, while Eddie just stood there and started to cry, "We had no idea. I wish we had known, but I can see you felt trapped with no good way out. After hearing your story, I forgive you for what you did to us. I hope we can help you somehow."

Then it was Eddie's turn, "I also thought about killing myself when things seemed to be really dark and scary in my life. My family, Tyler and Jaime gave me support when I needed it. You had no one to help you because you were all in the same situation. I can't even imagine the suffering you went through for years. What you did to us only lasted a day. What your dad did to you lasted your whole life. I forgive you, too. And I'm sorry for what you've been through."

Brandon pulled himself together and smiled slightly, "But there was one last thing that dad never found out, because I hid it away in myself so far down that he would never suspect. Because if he had found out, I'm sure I'd be dead now. I've never told anyone. I could never trust anyone with the secret. But now he's in jail... and I'm free." Brandon took a deep breath and met our gazes, "I'm gay."

The three of us looked at each other in total disbelief.

"I sure didn't see that one coming," Tyler laughed. "I think we'll sit down now."

"By the way, Eddie and Tyler, dinner's already in the oven. Brandon helped. He's got about the same level of cooking skills as you, Ty," I smirked.

"I thought I smelled something other than raw emotion," said Eddie.

"Dinner will be ready in about forty-five minutes. Do you want to head downstairs and play some video games?" I asked.

Tyler and Eddie both nodded. Brandon looked embarrassed, "I was never allowed to play video games. I have no idea how to play. I know, you guys think I'm useless."

"Do you know how to drive?" I asked. Brandon nodded. "Then I've got the perfect game for you to start."

We headed downstairs and I fired up a racing game. Brandon picked it up quickly, but couldn't overcome years of practice from the three of us.

By 7:00PM, we were hungry and dinner was ready, so we ran upstairs and into the kitchen. I pulled the meatloaf and roasted veggies out of the oven.

"Tyler, can you and Eddie set the table? I was kind of busy before," I said. "And Brandon, you can carry the plates out to the table, OK?"

Brandon smiled broadly, "I know you guys think this is silly, but my brother and I were never allowed to help my mom out in the kitchen. Just cutting up some vegetables before and carrying these plates out of the kitchen now feels like a fucking rebellion to me. Actually, I wasn't allowed to swear either, but I kind of ignored that one when I was out of the house."

The atmosphere felt vaguely like Thanksgiving. The sense of relief and unburdening from Brandon was matched by the feeling of gratitude that Tyler, Eddie and I felt that we had our families and each other.

"Jaime, how can you take meatloaf and make it seem like something you'd get at a gourmet restaurant? Even the vegetables are amazing," Eddie commented.

"Dude, I'm just happy to eat something that's not takeout or nuked, but it's really pretty special," Tyler said.

Brandon looked at his plate, then looked at us and started to cry again. "If you asked me a week ago if I ever thought this would be possible, I'd tell you that you were crazy. Not in my wildest dreams did I think I could be invited over to someone's house to eat dinner and not have to worry about getting beaten up and called names later by my dad."

"I'd like to propose a toast," I said.

"Dude, this is water," Tyler said.

"To the Very Reverend Bradley Grimes. May you rot in jail from now until you die, then may you rot in hell for all eternity after that," I said, raising my water glass.

Brandon stood up, looked me square in the eye and shouted, "Here! Here!"

"Here! Here!" shouted Tyler and Eddie.

Within a very few minutes, we'd all wolfed down the first helping of meatloaf and veggies, then went back for seconds and polished off the remaining food.

I walked over to look in the fridge and freezer to see if anything might work for dessert and was pleasantly surprised to see a barely-touched banana pudding that had Mama Bernice's stamp all over it. She must have dropped by on Saturday when I was at Uncle Noah's. It was just like her to do something like that. Even today, with her sons all grown up, she hated to think of them sitting alone at home.

"We've hit the jackpot," I said. "My dad's mom dropped off some banana pudding." I served up big helpings and we sat around loving each bite.

"So, what kind of guys do you like, Brandon?" I asked.

"I never really thought about it or at least I tried not to," Brandon said. "Hmm, let's just say that I like guys with dicks."

"Well, that's a good start, but don't leave out trans guys," I said.

"That's more Eddie and my territory," Tyler said. "Remember, we like all the sex parts, dicks, pussies, whatever, we don't care if they belong to trans or cis men or women or nonbinary either, for that matter. Actually, Eddie, I guess that makes us pansexual and not bi, right?"

"Yes, dear," Eddie laughed.

"What's it like to have a boyfriend?" Brandon asked.

"I can only speak for this boyfriend, but I think it's pretty amazing," Eddie said.

"I agree," Tyler added. "Eddie is an awesome guy, smart, kind, hot as hell, hung and great in bed."

"Hey, not to change the subject, but I just thought of something we can do to help Brandon out," I said. "Let's make a video. We can knock it out tonight. Brandon, you're going to say you're sorry to the whole school. You've had plenty of practice saying you're sorry today, so it shouldn't be that hard. You're going to add that you promise to work towards equality and respect for everyone at our school. Eddie and Tyler, the three of us are going to say that we were the victims of Brandon's acts, but that we've gotten together with him and fully accept his apology and know that he's sincere and encourage everyone else to accept his apology and forgive him. Then we're going to post it to the school's website and to our social media accounts, OK?"

"The public relations machine is back in business," Tyler smirked.

By 10:00, the video was done and posted. The first step in rehabilitating Brandon's public relations presence was finished.

As Tyler and Eddie got ready to leave, they turned to Brandon and pulled him into a hug, "You're an OK guy after all," said Tyler. "Join us at our lunch table tomorrow."

Brandon looked like he'd just won the lottery. I grabbed the car keys and gave him a lift home. As we pulled up to his house, he turned to me, kissed me full on the lips and said, "This was the best night of my life." With that, he jumped out and ran up the stairs into what had, in his previous life, been a house of horrors.

End -- "Tripod" Chapter 16

Author's note: Domestic abuse is at epidemic levels. Many women and their children are trapped due to physical, mental and financial abuse. Please consider supporting women's shelters and organizations that provide support for abuse survivors in your area.