Side Effects May Vary

I nodded. “You’ve got my attention,” I said and dropped to the damp floor next to him. It smelled like mildew covered in bleach, and I tried not to think about it. I already felt queasy enough.

“Okay. So, this last weekend I was at this house party out in Alton. I guess he had been at some other party, because he was plastered. Anyways, he kind of wandered in all by himself. I swear to God, I thought it was a sign.” He scooted closer to me. “Alice, I’ve been in love with him since the third grade.” He said it like it hurt, and I bet it did. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes, making me feel uncomfortable, like I shouldn’t be seeing this.

I knew what house party Tyson was talking about. It was a weekly thing at this old drag queen’s house. You didn’t go there without knowing what you were getting into.

“My friend Courtney has always known how much I loved him, so she went over to him and dragged him onto the dance floor. Well, the center of the living room, but you know what I mean. She danced with him for a little while, but made sure I was right by her side the whole time. There were people, like, everywhere, so he didn’t notice when Courtney left him in my very capable hands.” Tyson leaned even closer to me. “I was kind of freaked out, but he was dancing with me so I kept going along. It was like he was still dancing the way he would’ve with Courtney, but he was dancing with me. There was no way he didn’t know I was a guy. We were, like, grinding and—”

I shook my head. “No further explanation necessary, thanks.”

“Anyways,” he said, rolling his bloodshot eyes, “I went to go get a drink from the keg outside and he followed me. We didn’t really talk. It was just us back there. I was crazy nervous. I was about to ask him why he was there when he sort of leaned in and kissed me.”

I waited for some kind of an explanation. This was the guy who had practically begged to get into my pants. He even slept around with other girls. “Hang on,” I said, holding my palm up. “Luke sort of kissed you?”

“Yes, and it was earth-shattering. Everything I had dreamed of since third grade. Okay, well, I didn’t realize people used their tongues to kiss when I was in third grade, but you get the idea. After that he kind of freaked out and took off.”

I recalled all of those times Luke and I had kissed, and it was okay enough, but nothing I could ever imagine someone dreaming of or hoping for. The thought actually made me want to gag, and I wondered if Tyson and I were even talking about the same guy.

Luke had kissed a boy. I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t understand how I didn’t see it. A girlfriend would have known something like that.

“Courtney couldn’t believe it either, so she snapped a picture with her cell from inside the house.”

The wheels in my brain began to spin. “Does it look like him?” I asked.

Tyson’s head cocked to the side and his brows furrowed in confusion.

“The picture,” I said, “can you tell it’s him?”

“I can,” he said cautiously, as he pulled out his smart phone. My breath caught in my throat as he showed me the picture. It was a little blurry, having been taken with drunk goggles, but oh, God—it was definitely him. He even wore his letter jacket with the unmistakable MVP varsity soccer patch emblazoned on his bicep.

“So what happened next?” I asked, handing the phone back reluctantly.

“Well, today I went up to him in the locker room before gym. Everyone had cleared out but us. When I asked him if he was okay, he said ‘Okay with you being a faggot?’” Tyson choked out a sob.

I hated that word.

Tyson sniffed and continued. “Then I reminded him that he kissed me in the first place. He told me to keep my mouth shut, and then this happened,” he said, lifting his shirt to reveal a long, colorful bruise that stretched the entire length of his left side and seemed to continue well past the waistband of his jeans. The bruise yellowed at the edges, getting darker and angrier toward the middle.

“Wow. Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah. A little sore, but okay.”

“So, you still think you’re in love with him?”

“Probably.” His face was severe and now free of tears.

Sometimes love is so intense that it turns into this gray area that borders on hate. That’s what happens when the people you love have that type of power of you.

“I’m sorry, you know,” he said, motioning to my scalp.

I nodded. “Can you send me the picture?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Why? What do you want with it?”

“Oh, I want to ruin that asshole.” I felt bad for Tyson and even for Luke, but that didn’t change what he had done to me.

He chewed on his lip for a second, thinking. “Yeah, you can have it. Let me know before it goes public, okay?”

I stood. “I will.”

He nodded. “Hey, isn’t your birthday this week?”

“Next Monday, sweet sixteen.” I’d be spending my sixteenth birthday at the treatment center. “Sorry about the bruises, Tyson.”

“It’s okay. Suddenly, the pain is starting to fade.”

“Yeah, revenge does that.”

Harvey. Then.