Murder Hornet: Chapter Seven

Photo byTatiana Tochilova on Unsplash

💡 This story is part of my ongoing series,Murder Hornet, a novel-in-progress unfolding one imperfect chapter at a time.

Chapter VII

I’d known Derrick all my life, best friends since I could remember. Come to think of it, there’s no single memory of my childhood without him in it. Derrick and Allen; Allen and Derrick, we were always together, inseparable friends.

First day of third grade on the playground at Ephesus Elementary. That’s when we first met. I was wearing my favorite Super Mario t-shirt, a present from my mom to wear on my first day ‘for good luck,’ when Derr—that’s what I call him; sounds like ‘dare’—came up to me.

“Are you a gamer,” he asked.

I look at the boy standing in front of me. He was wearing a Chicago Bulls black jersey, a backwards UNC cap over his short, brown hair, his bangs coming out from the clasp of his hat, and his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans pants.

“A what?” I asked.

“A gamer,” he explained. “Someone who plays video games.” He pointed at my chest with his right hand. I looked away from his eyes and slowly looked down and towards where he’d pointed and saw the upside-down picture of Mario wearing a raccoon costume on my t-shirt.

“Oh, I guess I am,” I laughed, “but only after I help mom with the dishes after dinner.” I paused to look at him again and it took me a few seconds to realize that he’d been standing there waiting for me to say something.

“Are you? A gamer?” I ventured, timidly.

“Correctamundo,” came his answer, his eyes shining like two tiny super nova. “I play pretty much every day, even on weekends,” he said with obvious pride.

From that day forth, we were inseparable. We knew each other’s phone numbers by heart, relying on our parents to schedule playdates, sleepovers, trick-or-treating… we hung out or did pretty much every seasonal or school events together. By the time we were old enough, we’d just walk to each other’s places, alternating whose house we’d spend our afternoons after school based on who had the best snacks at home that week, with a disproportionate tendency of being my house since his parents were very strict with only buying ‘healthy’ food that tasted like Styrofoam. We always had great snacks at home.

When we graduated from high school, we both just knew that we wanted to be a Tar Heel. We took the SAT prep course together. We mailed our applications together. Heck, we even got our acceptance letters on the same day. Our parents were beyond excited that we’d stay local, the much lower tuition being the icing on the cake.

On moving day we managed to convince our parents that there wasn’t a need for everyone to come along—“it’s not like we’re moving out,” I told my mom—and just packed enough clothes and bare essentials as if we were going camping for a few days.

The first few days living in the dorm were magical. There were so many new people to meet, everyone of them just as inexperienced and excited about the unlimited potential this new lifestyle promised us. It felt like we had a party to go to every night, the dorm hallways vibrating with laughter, a vague scent of weed in the air, Dr. Dre tunes coming from somewhere.

People would show up at all odd hours of the day and crash at our room, mostly Derrick’s friends and teammates from the soccer team. Once, I came back from my Lit 101 class and our room was packed, folks sitting everywhere including my bed, listening to loud Perl Jam, and just having a good time.

I waved at folks and went directly to the puny walking closet-cum-storage area of our room and dropped off my books. Not three minutes had passed, when everyone excused themselves and made their way out with promises to get together later.

“Is everything okay, Al?”

“Yeah, why?” I asked.

“It’s just that you had this look on your face…”

“I did? When?” I finished brushing the top of my bed with my hands and plopped down, pulling a pillow behind my head.

“When you walked in, just… like a few minutes ago.”

I frowned. “I did? Just now?”

“Well, yeah… when you came in. Are you upset at something?” He pulled his chair from under his desk and straddled it with his arms folded over the back.

“Me? No. I don’t think so. Why would I be?”

“I don’t know… maybe because you were not expecting so many people to be in our room?”

That we got to continue being friends while in college was a surprise to me. Derrick had always been the outgoing type and was quick to make new friends. Me, on the other hand, could never be as extroverted as him, carefully choosing who I wanted to be friends with and being very selective as to what I shared and with whom. I guess I never really noticed how dependent I’d become of him. After a couple of weeks sharing the same dorm room, I started to notice just how many more friends he had than I did. It used to be that it was just the two of us, Derrick and Alan, Alan and Derrick. But at UNC, that changed dramatically. Now, we have people coming and going to and from our room to hangout and listen to music all the time.

It was the late 90s and our room was one of the first in the dorm to have access to the Internet, so people came down to get online and listen to music and just have a good time.

It was Angelo, the freshman from upstate New York who started teasing me about being too close to Derrick. “Shit,” he’d say, “it’s almost as if you’re married or something”. Everyone would laugh, including myself, and I think it would’ve been okay except that other people started saying the same thing and was started out as a gag slowly became something embarrassing. It was on homecoming day that I first notice how Derrick started avoiding me. Every time I asked him if he wanted to go out and hang out and do something, he was always too busy studying for a class. “We’re getting ready for a quiz.” He always had a plan, a plan that did not include me. I could tell there was something bothering him. I even asked me point-blank if he was embarrassed about the rumor that Angel had started, but he just waved it off and said that there was nothing really bothering him. “I’m taking freshman year a little bit more serious than I thought I would,” he tried to sound convincing. But I’d known him all my life and I knew that something was up.

As the weeks went by, I kept asking him what was going on, but it felt that the more I asked him questions, the more I seemed to push him away from me. I was feeling lonely and miserable, and I did miss hanging out with Derrick. One evening, when I felt that I just could not take it any longer, I went to Dorrance Field and waited until Derrick came out from soccer practice. I was decided to confront him and when he came off the field, I came out from under the stands.

“Derrick, how come how you don’t have any time for me anymore? How come you always have time for your friends but no time to hang out with me. Have I done anything to hurt you? What’s happened?” The questions just stormed out of me.

He tried to play it down and just shrugged pretending nothing had changed but I kept pushing. I just couldn’t handle it anymore. I really needed to know, I wanted to hear from him, I wanted to hear it in his voice. I needed to hear him say why he was avoiding me so much.

“Alan, I guess I just need a little bit of my own space.” He sighed. “We’ve known each other for so long and it feels like I just need to be my own person, you know? To be honest,” he continued, “you do come across as being very clingy… it makes me a little bit uncomfortable when people joke around that we’re spending too much time together and that we’re more than just close friends.” He shrugged.

I had to take a couple of deep breaths to fight off the urge that I had to shout at him and remind him just how long we’d been friends. Did I have to remind him of all the things that we went through together? How we used to sit at the same table in middle school, how many birthday parties we shared, how many life-changing events we experienced at the same time.

Something in me broke that night and I just poured my heart out to Derrick.

“Don’t just stand there. Say something for crying out loud! You’re my best friend.”

He took a deep breath, put his hand on my shoulder and said he was sorry for being so distant and for not being the supportive person that he’d always been to me. He’d be more supportive going forward and would make a point of including me in his plans.

Everything seemed to be working out and it felt like a huge weight was about to be lifted off my chest… until…

“Alan, you do need to understand that I am my own person and that from now on there’s a possibility that eventually we might go our separate ways. It doesn’t mean that what we had in the past wasn’t great. I will always remember you as a great childhood friend.”

“Great friend,” I asked, a bit of exasperation in my voice. “You’ll remember me as a great friend?” I asked again, jabbing him in the chest. “Well, what if I don’t want to be just a great friend, huh? What if I don’t want to be away from you? Have you thought about that?” I jabbed his chest again.

“What are you saying, Al?” he stammered.

“God dammit, Derrick! I’d always thought you were the smart one.”

“I still don’t understand what you’re talking about Al.”

“Derrick, why can’t you see what is right under your nose? People spend most of their lives completely oblivious of what has always been obvious to others. Do you really know me? Do you? Can’t you tell that I have always—”

“Don’t say it!” Derrick shouted, a look of fear suddenly spreading across his face. “Don’t say it, Alan… please.”

“I have to say it, Derrick.” I pounded on my chest. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Alan, I’m begging of you. Please, do not say it.”

“I’ve got to,” I told Derrick. “Ever since I first met you, I knew that I wanted to be with you.”

“Don’t,” he shouted again.

“Ever since I met you, I knew my life would forever be tied to yours.”

“Don’t do it, Al. Please.” He implored.

“Derrick…” I paused.

He started shaking his head side to side, a look of horror on his face.

“I have always…” I paused again.

“No,” he stretched his hands toward me.

“I—I love you,” I finally managed to say in a whisper. “I love you,” more loudly this time.

Derrick took a step back, doubling down as if he was in pain and whimpering. I took a step forward and tried to touch him but he recoiled as if I wore the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen.

“Don’t touch me,” he said.”

“I want to help you—”

“Don’t touch me,” he said again doubling down weak and whimpering.

“Derrick, don’t you see that I’ve always cared about you?”

He stood up his face contorted in pain, tears in his eyes. “Dammit, Al. Do you understand that we can’t be friends anymore?”

“Huh? What are you saying, Derrick?”

“You need to move out, Allen… No, I need to move out,” he says, his arms outstretched, his hands out, as if to push me away.

“But why?” I take a step towards him, forcing him to take a step back. “Why do either one of us have to move out,” I asked incredulously.

“We can’t be friends anymore,” he said slowly. “Can’t you see how this changes everything? Our lives will forever be complicated now.”

“No, it won’t, I promise you.” I said eagerly. I step forward and this time he doesn’t recoil when I touch him.

“If anything, this time in college, I promise that I will never do anything to hurt you.”

“It’s a little too late for that, isn’t it?”

“Derrick, will you listen to me, please.”

He looked up, taking a deep breath.

“Can you truly say that you never felt anything for me,” I asked.

He just stood there, looking at me. For the briefest moment I felt that he had gone back in his mind, seeking for an answer.

“Can you tell me, truly tell me that you’ve never thought of me as more than a friend?”

I ever so slightly moved closer to him.

He slowly closed his eyes.

I bent my head forward and leaned toward his lips, squeezing his arms as I moved forward. I could feel them trembling under my hands.

I took a lungful breath of the smell of his body, an intoxicating warm mixture of freshly cut grass and sweat.

I opened my mouth, ready to experience for the first time the feel of his tongue on mine.

“Don’t touch me,” he shoved me, a jolt of pain shooting through my arm.

“Don’t you ever touch me again, he shouted, his face contorted in pain and shame.

“Don’t you ever touch me or even talk to me again, you… you fucking faggot!”

“Derrick, don’t.” I reach out to touch him, but he recoiled in disgust.

“Don’t touch me,” he shouted, tears now openly rolling down his face. “Don’t touch me,” he was now whispering, looking down to his feet. “I am… I’m afraid of what I’ll do to you if you ever touch me again. I’ll hurt you!” He turned around and ran out to the parking lot.

I started following him down the parking lot and into the street.

“Please, wait! We need to talk.”

He just kept on running without looking back, going down the street barely keeping himself from colliding with other people just getting out of class.

“Derrick, will you please wait up,” I called out again as he made his way to the bell tower across from the Student Center. “Where are you going?”

He just kept on running. When he got to the Bell Tower, he opened a side door and started climbing up the stairs taking two, three steps at a time. I followed him as quickly as I could, doing my best to keep up with the blur of his body several steps ahead of me. When I finally got to the top of the stairs, completely out of breath, it takes me a few seconds to see him standing there, tears streaming down his face.

“Do you understand that I can’t face my friends anymore?”

“Aren’t you being a little bit traumatic right now, Derrick?” I said soothingly. “Nobody knows about my feelings. Well, nobody but you.” I forced a painful smile when I see him balling his hands into fists. His tears just kept on flowing while he stared at a spot between his feet on the floor.

“Derrick,” I continued taking a step closer to him. “Look, I never wanted to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you. As much as it hurts me to say this… as much as I know that this will kill me inside, I’ll will hide my feelings for you.”

“You’d do that,” he asked looking up for the first time. “You’ll do that for me?”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Derrick,” I said gently. “Nothing,” I whispered trying hard not to let out all the pain I’m feeling at the moment. “I’ll pick up my things from our room early tomorrow and,” I swallowed a sob before I could continue, “drop out of school and move back home.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

“You won’t have to worry about anyone seeing us together again, I promise you.” I looked down at my feet.

“Alan, he stepped towards me.

“I’d always thought that what we had between us was beautiful and pure… I never wanted my feelings to cause you pain. I have never wanted to hurt you. But now I see that I’ve caused you too much pain.”

“Alan,” he said slowly. “I’ve always known about your feelings for me.”

I looked at him, surprised.

“What?”

“I have always known how you felt about me.”

“You have?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say something before?”

“I couldn’t,” he answered.

I whispered. “Couldn’t what?”

“I just couldn’t.”

“I don’t understand you. What are you saying,” I supplicated, tears now rolling freely down my face.

“I have always known how you felt about me. You have always been a part of my life. You have always been the best part of my life.” He continued. “But I just can’t.”

“Can’t what, Derrick?” I took another step toward him.

“Stay where you are, Alan. Stay where you are.”

He took a step backwards, putting his hands on the top of the parapet.

“What are you doing,” I asked again.

He calmly pulled himself up the parapet, facing me, his legs dangling down from the wall, his back to the street down below.

“What are you doing? Can you come down so we can talk? You’re making me nervous.” I asked. “You don’t have to do anything, Derrick. I’ve already told you. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Alan, you’ve been a good friend to me. You’ve been more than just a friend to me.”

“Can you please come down; you’re making me really nervous right now.”

“You were right,” he said.

“Right about what, I asked.

“I did have feelings… I do have feelings for you.

I looked up perplexed.

“Yes,” he continued softly. “I do have feelings for you.”

“Then why you’ve never said anything to me?” I started to get angry. “Why didn’t you ever tell me how you felt about me?”

“My parents would’ve killed me if they’d ever found out. Their only son have feelings for another man?”

“Do you love me?”

He didn’t answer.

“Do you love me,” I asked again louder this time.

He nodded his head gently up and down, still incapable of saying the words.

“My parents will never understand. It will kill them both if they found out that their son is a homosexual. So, I can’t.” He took his hands off the wall.

“Derrick, you don’t have to do anything, I already told you I’ll leave you alone. I’m ready to leave. Even if it takes me years to forget you, I’m ready to live like this, without you by my side.”

“But I don’t know that I’m ready to live in a world where you and I cannot be together.”

He gave me a sad smile, kicked off the wall and jumped to his death.