Writing activity "goodness"

Write about a Good person.

I had known Kent since fall. How could I have missed something who I would later recall as one of my first crushes? He did please the eye, as young gay men are fond of noticing in their first crushes. He didn't do much. I knew he played football, only because he had to wear the required jerseys for game days and pep rallies. But I never saw him play. And I would watch too. Queer guys get a bad rap. Everyone thinks we hate sports. It is not that. It is that we hate to have to play sports that might ruin our hair or further scar us by showing together.

So I would sneak out to the football games that I could. There was Kent, on the sidelines. He was obvious even under all of his armor, a piece of meat with a thick neck. I would watch him and not the gruntmakers on the field.

And I would make a note of saying "good job" to him come Monday. My theatre friends were never the wiser.

I always felt bad for him. I noticed that spring semester that his neck had been badly burned one Monday. I calculated that he probably had been doing yard work with some recently, severely shaved hair.

He even looked more like a marine.

Now my time at high school was short. I hated the place, as most gay guys do. We're not ourselves and no one will allow us to express. Mine was complicated by the fact that I was too smart. I kept scoring too high in the advanced courses. This was not met with more applause outside of my family. Instead, I had various aide positions that senior year.

And I remember once, grading papers, seeing that Kent was not doing what the other kids were. Math, that year, was more then work for him. After the third homework that fall, I decided it was time to, at least, find a reason to sit close to Kent. I was so self-serviant.

"Dude, hey, I'm Bri. I work for Mrs. Kendall, your math teacher. I know I'm kinda overstepping my boundaries here, but I noticed, well, let's just say she's a hard teacher."

"I know you, you're the guy in all the plays. Brian Steves. We had a few classes together last year. You also do choir. I thought about trying out for that."

I was impressed. Apparently, he had his eyes open too.

"Yeah, that's me! You should, you should try out," I was probably more emotional then I needed to be, but the thought of seeing Kent was a bit more was giving me an eternal energy I'd not ever felt before," but I was wondering, do you need help with math? I am offering tutoring to several people who might need help with her class and I thought I'd ask."

Kent looked down at the ground, his hulking frame slightly dejected. I assure you, insult was not my goal. Maybe someone to go see a movie was. I realized at this point his pants had a slap of duct tape on the back side and his tshirt was slightly ripped on the back portion, arcing to the front. I realized that he had it on last year and it had fit.

"It's no problem, I can work around your schedule. I didn't mean to insult--"

"No, dude, dude, you didn't insult. I kinda already have tutoring. I didn't realize I was doing so poorly in Mrs. Kendall's. Crap. I gotta talk to someone."

I immediately wanted to take back everything I had said and just continue to admire this athlete from afar. I was hit with guilt and fell back on what I knew.

Food.

"Well, okay, um, Kent, do you want to go get some food? I have my car just back from the shop and, well, there's Mickey D's across the way."

"I am not supposed to leave campus."

He had turned and was talking to me sideways.

"You're not supposed to leave campus?"

He shrugged his shoulders. My first thought was paranoia. He was a felon. I didn't see any lock on his leg. But he used his chin as a pointer at a nearby classroom.

Room #225.

Special education resources.

For all my glances at Kent, he had kept his true identity secret. He had a learning disability, but only after some time, did I know it.

But I glued my heels to the ground. My family was a crazy sort of wackos, weirdos and annoyances. They never, ever, however, would put a person down for being different. I remembered this for my brother once was suspended for beating up his friend--after the friend had teased some students coming out of that classroom. It was overkill, grant you, but the point was made.

"Cool. Do you need to ask your teacher if you can come with for lunch? You need me to go with you?"

He swivelled around full bore and stood standing at me like a gunslinger at high noon.

He never had to deal with this kind of situation. I suddenly was angry with the entire football team for never calling him to games or activites or playing the friend bit.

"Would you go in there with me?"

The more severe cases of students were in there--and though Kent did not seem to fit in with them on a physical level, he knew them all by name and smiled and nodded to each one.

....that's all I had to write for tonight. More on Kent's story later.