I wish that Bennis kid would hurry up a little. i hate when he wants to meet after he finishes sixth form, dude takes so long to come out and leaves me standing outside like a creep. Usually I would find it weird to hang around a dude two years younger than me but when it’s another tusker it’s a completely different deal.

Through a sea of disgusting little school children I see Bennis walk up to me, his lankyness making him stand out.

“Mason!” He squeals.

“Yo.” God he was embarrassing to be around.

“So what did you wanna do?”

“I dunno man, you’re the one who wanted to meet me here.”

“Oh yeah.” Damn did he really just make me come all the way out here for no reason?

“So do you wanna go to the park or something?” I assumed he meant the swampy overgrown field down the road and not the literal play park. Or at least I hoped that’s what he meant.

“The park?”

“Unless you have anywhere else in mind.” Guess I’m going to the park with bennis.

“Yeah, sure, okay. Why not?” God I was gonna need to take something to get me through this afternoon.

I followed bennis as he walked us over to the park, the further we walked the higher my suspicions of it being an actual play park grew.

“Bennis, we're going to the field right?”

“I thought we were going to the park?”

“Why the fuck would i want to go to the park?”

“To go down the slide?” He giggled awkwardly, hopefully somewhat aware of how ridiculous he sounds.

“I’m not fucking 6 years old bennis!”

“Right. Sorry. I’m just so used to spending time with Ash!” What was wrong with this guy? And why do I still give him the time of day?

I guided us back around to the field and chose a relatively dry place to sit.

“You good bennis?” He cradled his knees, his head buried deep in his arms. It looked so pathetic it almost made me pity him.

He nodded his head.

I lit a cigarette and offered him a drag. He lifted his head to smoke it, the cigarette a contradiction to his sweet little appearance.

He smoked with such ease, unlike when we first met and he’d cough his guts up after every inhale. It made me almost proud. Not that i should be proud for pushing such a dirty habit onto him, but at least it makes him look slightly cooler.

Bennis sat in silence. I knew he wanted to say something, or else why would he have invited me here.

“Why does everyone like you?”

“Don’t you think they should?” 

“No! No no I didn’t mean it like that!” He said, still not looking in my direction.

“It’s just, everyone thinks that you’re so cool, I’ve never met anyone that doesn’t like you.” I have to disagree, I know many people who don’t. “Even Ash, who you treat so badly, looks up to you in a weird sorta way. “ 

“Yeah I get what you’re saying”

“Like uh I guess what I’m asking is, how do I make people think of me that way?” He looked up at me for the first time. 

“Like all the guys at the club completely look past me until they need someone to make fun of and like-“

“Bennis. Calm down.” Damn what was he getting so worked up about this. The leg he was still cradling had begun to shake.

“You just gotta stand up for yourself a bit, grow a pair of balls, and stop acting so bent.”

“Bent?”

“Yeah, you act a bit bent man, like the way you cling onto me? The dudes all think you’re gay.”

“But I’m not!”

“Sure thing bennis. I mean, I have nothing against gay guys but like if you start acting that way at the club, guys are gonna take issue with it.”

“I’m not gay mason!”

“Okay I believe you” I punched his arm. He grabbed the spot as if I had actually hurt him.

“Is that all you wanted to ask me?”

“Yeah.” He said shyly, putting his face back in his arms.

It’s strange, I see him as more of a little brother than I ever have with Ash.

Bennis’ POV

We hung out for a little longer in the park, and despite how awful and awkward I had made it by asking dumb questions like how to be cool, we had chatted and it had gone okay in the end. I could tell Mason was finding me annoying, but he also didn’t try to find excuses to leave, either. So, maybe he didn’t mind. It was hard to tell with him.

I really didn’t have many friends my age, so it was nice to be able to hang out with Mason sometimes even if it kind of felt like he was doing it out of some sort of obligation. Eventually, I was the one who had to end it, saying I ought to head home, and he waved me off with a mumbled “see you at the club, Bennis.”

On my walk home, I couldn’t shake what Mason had said to me earlier about how I acted bent. It had always bothered me that the other tuskers thought I was ‘bent’ because I wasn’t really tough or particularly masculine. Like, the other guys would say they loved each other and nobody batted an eye, but because I ‘looked’ less manly, I could simply say I thought Mason was cool and they’d bully me mercilessly for it. Or maybe Mason was right - maybe it was just how I acted. Was that really my fault though? I didn’t have anyone else to talk to because they all found me annoying, and at least Mason could stand to be around me sometimes, so of course I ‘clung’ to him. That didn’t make me gay.

I mean, I knew people were gay and that was fine, they could live their lives if that made them happy, but it was the fact that I wasn’t, and all the guys at the club made fun of me because they thought I was. Because I was soft, probably. It might have been fine to be gay but not in a gang full of toxically masculine drug addicts who would exploit any weakness for laughs. 

And Mason thought I was bent as well? Even if he said he didn’t, I had seen it in his eyes. I don’t know why, but that bugged me more than it usually would have. I had just felt like he thought… more highly of me than that. I thought he saw me differently than all the other guys did. I mean, he chose to hang out with me so I thought - I don’t know, I just thought he liked me. But maybe he just saw me the way everyone else saw me: a posh gay loser. The butt of the joke. The idiot who joined a gang by accident.

But it didn’t feel like that when we hung out. It felt … cool. Like, we got along, and I enjoyed his company, and he sort of enjoyed mine. I often found myself wanting more of his company. To hang out more. But I didn’t want to come off as needy, that would be pathetic, especially because it would probably just make it seem like I wanted to fuck him or something. 

I surfaced from my thoughts as I approached my house. It was technically in Tuskley, but just enough on the outskirts to make the owners of the house feel like they weren’t associated with all the messiness of the gangs and the violence that Tuskley was infamous for. The first time Mason saw my house he had made a joke about the palace of Versailles, but I really didn’t think it was that fancy. The other Tuskers were just not used to houses like this, and I understood that. It felt a little embarrassing to admit this was my house when I was in a gang where some people didn’t even have homes, but we didn’t choose our upbringing, so I told myself there was no need to feel too guilty about it. 

Still, it wasn't nice to be reminded of how much better I had it than the other guys. To be reminded of why I didn’t belong.

With a sigh, I unlocked the door and let myself in.