“He was just saying stuff, you know…” Asa trailed off, the previous tough exterior slowly crumbling away at the edges until bits and pieces of it fell to the floor like ashes, revealing the boy underneath. His armour was cracking open, and Asa didn’t like the sudden rush of vulnerability that was seeping into his skin and leaving his bones cold.
“Okay.” The principal nodded slowly. “What stuff?”
Why was it so, so hard for Asa to just say it? What was that rock which had lodged itself in Asa’s vocal cords, not allowing him to let the words pass? This was supposed to be easy. He was supposed to explain himself, await whatever action the school thought was necessary and live with it.
But he was Asa San Román, the popular heartthrob who had a killer smile and supposedly had the entire student body eating out of his hand. He was Asa San Román, the defending champion of the interstate swimming meet who supposedly had the world at his feet and nothing got to him. He was Asa San Román, the boy who got into notorious fights for defending the bullied and was supposedly never bullied himself. He was Asa San Román, a guy, and as per an unsaid rule, guys don’t get knocked down by words, but only with punches and kicks.
Did admitting it to himself make him any less masculine? Did letting his parents and the principal know that he didn’t have it in him to take such discriminatory remarks make him weak? Pathetic? Less of a guy?
Did it, really?
“Asa?” his mother’s voice tugged him out of his stream of thoughts. “Mijo, want to tell us what happened? Please?”
He closed his eyes, letting out a heavy breath, before he opened them back again and looked at the principal with defeat in his eyes. “He was giving me shit for being, well, me. He was saying that I didn’t belong here, not in this school or this city, because of where I come from—because of my birth place. And I lost my temper.”
And maybe that was another step in the road to self-love and acceptance. Maybe it was acknowledging that not only standing up for all those who’d had their hamstrings severed and kneecaps bashed in with cruelty and hate who couldn’t stand for themselves was pretty good, but standing up for yourself mattered, too.
Maybe it was having enough respect for your own soul and mind that you learn to admit to yourself that what was happening to you was a form of bullying too, and it didn’t matter how strong society deemed you were. You were allowed to say that it was hurting you.
The air in the principal’s room was very still as both his parents stared at Asa in shock, obviously only hearing this now. Mr Hendrickson, too, seemed to be at a loss for words.
“You’re not telling me that students of this school make racist comments?” the principal asked uncertainly, with the corners of his mouth twisted into a deep frown, his eyes looking truly troubled.
“I think that’s exactly what my son said,” his dad snapped, apparently still reeling from the shock that Asa had never mentioned any of this before.
“Papá,” Asa quickly said, trying to tell him through eye contact to remain calm and not snap at the principal.
Principal Hendrickson ran a hand down his face, looking like he aged five years within the span of five minutes. “How long has this been going on for?”
“For as long as I’ve been attending Reichenbach High,” Asa replied, shrugging. “It just…I guess it never occurred to me to say anything because it had just become part and parcel of school life.”
“Oh, mijo,” his mother murmured, running her hand through his hair. The skin on her forehead was still creased, and her eyes were unfocused, lost in the thoughts that were undoubtedly swimming around in her mind.
“How come the school does not know of such serious issues?” his father asked, jaw clenched and eyes hardened into slits. “They just turn a blind eye to bullying now?”
“I wasn’t bullied,” Asa hastily said, averting his gaze from the three adults and looking down at the floor instead. Shame crawled up his neck and left a trail of heat in its wake.
He didn’t have to look up to know that all three pairs of eyes were on him; the sudden shift in the atmosphere and the sensation of holes being drilled into his skull were evidence enough.
“You, silly boy.” His mother shook her head, sounding pained. “Always looking out for others but never yourself. Now you can’t even tell that it’s not okay for someone to say such things to you.”
“I did defend myself,” Asa muttered, not looking up just yet. “That’s why Carson’s in the infirmary.”
“There’s no point in punching the daylights out of someone if you can’t even admit to yourself that what was happening was a form of bullying, Asa,” Principal Hendrickson said slowly, as if his words were cautious footsteps on a road paved with eggshells.
The silence dragged on, loud and restless, awaiting the arrival of Asa’s heart in all its raw and vulnerable glory. Because that was what Asa had to do, right? He needed to take down that armour he thought he was required to wear, and just let it all out.
He had to let all that poison out, because the hate and anger he felt brewing in the core of his very being towards the people that wronged him would eventually consume him too. And he’d be damned before he let them take that away from him as well.
“Why didn’t you come to us sooner?” his mother asked quietly, breaking the silence that weighed on all four of them like a thick, suffocating blanket.
Asa still
