"Idyll Plains" continues

     Toby was seated on the closed lid in the first stall, desperately trying to avoid advanced algebra by adding to the graffiti on the walls around him. Apparently one of the gym teachers, Mrs. Randall, was both “a bull dyke and a raging kike”, if stall lore was to believed. He took some solace in seeing that it had been spelled correctly. It was the least hate mongers could do. He was angered slightly to find Will’s name there as well, along with a rather rude assessment of his sexuality. True or not, he didn’t want it to remain there and was just beginning to black out the words with a pen from his pocket when several voices entered the bathroom. There were three of them and he recognized Erik Miller’s vicious cackle almost immediately which meant the other two voices belonged to Russell Keith and Anthony Boyd, the two seemingly brainless stooges who often served as his personal entourage. All three were stereotypical football jocks, though Erik looked more the part of a bookworm with his long curled hair and stylish horn-rimmed glasses. He was more slender than the other two, which was also probably one of the reasons he would often terrorize boys like Will. Toby realized only after it had grown quiet that he had forgotten to raise his feet. Swallowing hard and accepting his fate,  Toby stood up slowly and unlocked the door. Sure enough, Miller was standing at one of the sinks with Boyd just next to him, and they were watching him carefully. Russell, the bull-necked slab of sinew Toby had never heard utter anything besides a chuckle or a grunt, stood guarding the bathroom door. Toby faced him, and though he probably could have pushed past him with the element of surprise he knew that the payback later would be very harsh, so he turned back and looked at Miller head on. “Wassup Erik?” he asked, the slight tremble in his voice betraying him.

    A malevolent grin covered his face. “You were just gonna leave without washing your hands? That’s fuckin disgusting, isn’t it boys?” The other two laughed and nodded though it was clear they didn’t get the enjoyment out of it that their friend did. “Maybe you weren’t taking a shit. Maybe you were jerking off thinking about your little butt buddy friend, Billy. That’s what faggots do, right?” All three tormenters laughed.

    “I’m not a faggot.” he replied through gritted teeth.

    “Save it. This is gonna be a warm-up. We’ll catch you and your queer bait friend after school. That’ll be the real show.” he said, moving toward him and grabbing Toby’s arm. Toby dug his heels against the stall door behind him and prepared to lash out as Miller pushed against him. The football player was just too strong and the door gave way as Miller’s hand clutched Toby’s neck, forcing his head down toward the bowl. He was anticipating the cold water on his head when the sound of a commotion in the room outside halted his descent. He was still crouched and leaning against the wall when Mr. Bryce, the assistant principal, poked his head in. Though he did register concern, it was soon replaced with a weary been there/done that façade Toby had grown all too accustomed to.

    “You all right?”

    “Yeah.” he replied sheepishly, standing up and composing himself as Mr. Bryce moved to the sink and began washing his hands. The other three boys were gone.

    “You want my advice, son?” Toby half shrugged and half nodded. “Go out for some extracurriculars. Maybe even try out for the football team. Miller would find it harder to constantly harass a member of his team”

    “I’m in the choir.“ Toby responded, probably a bit more forcefully than he had hoped.

    Mr. Bryce smirked. “I’m not talking about that crap, I’m talking about sports.“ Toby was still eyeing the authority figure with confusion when he continued, leaning in and almost whispering. “If you continue to act gay and show weakness, they’re going to continue to torment you. I’m trying to help you here.” Life lesson espoused the elder man stood up straight again, finished wiping his hands dry and threw the soiled paper towels into an overstuffed garbage can near the door. “I haven’t seen your Dad at any of the PTA meetings lately.”

    Toby, still seething quietly, managed to reply. “Because my Mom’s not forcing him to go. He hates that shit.”

    “Hey! Watch your language.” he snapped, afterward taking a deep breath and placing a hand on Toby’s shoulder. “Look, I cut you a lot of slack because your Mom was a big part of this school behind the scenes, but I can’t keep finding you playing hookey in the bathroom. I know your Mom’s been sick, and I’m sorry, but I need you to get it together.”

    Toby’s face sank as the words of misguided hope settled in. “Fuck you.” was all he could think to respond, afterward turning and leaving a stunned Mr. Bryce behind shaking his head.