Rory and Philip

This is a continuation of the story of Rory and Philip, two gay college men. This is a long chapter that delves into violence against gays and these two characters and their relationships with their families and each other. If that's not your thing, please find a different story to read!

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After the debacle of the house party, Philip and I had really settled into a better time between us. I was often walking on air. I had a boyfriend - something I'd never been able to say before. We were both committed to our educations, so we were doing our best to accommodate one another's class schedules. Occasionally we'd have a disagreement about things because our schedules did not always overlap well, and one of us would want to spend time together, but the other's schedule said that they needed to be finishing a project or studying for a major exam, but that was the life of a student, and the disagreements never seemed to get out of hand.

We also had the volleyball team. Long back when I first joined the team, it was understood that the team was to be a nice distraction from the other rigors of student life, and was not to get so serious that it became a burden. As a team, we had some success, but there were other teams in the league that were much more aggressively competitive than we were. We had good players, and when we were on the court we played hard, but win or lose, we were just happy with playing together. Somehow we ended up third in the season standings, something that we were happy with. As an intramural league, there were no playoffs, it was all for fun and exercise and camaraderie.

Jeanne, our team captain, sent everyone an email inviting us to a party to end the season at her house that weekend. We were about two weeks before finals, so it was a perfect time - blow off a little steam, but still have time to prepare for exams.

"Hey, you've known Jeanne longer than me," I said to Philip, "is this party going to be 'safe' for you and me? I mean, I know that everyone on the team knows that we are together, but how about other friends?"

"Yeah, Jeanne and Mark, her significant other, are cool with it and make it known to their friends that the only thing they don't tolerate is intolerance."

I sighed a relieved sign, "OK, I hoped that was the case."

On Friday we headed to Jeanne's place. Something seemed off about Philip, but when I asked if he was OK, he just shrugged and said he was fine.

Jeanne and Mark shared a house with another couple, and when I saw an ally flag hanging from the porch I again sensed relief at feeling like Philip and I could just be who we are. The backyard was strung with party lights and there was music blasting from speakers in an upstairs room pointed out to the yard below.

I'd met Mark at some of our volleyball games, even though he did not play on the team, he'd been there for some games just to cheer us on. He greeted Philip and me from behind a grill where he had burgers and dogs heating up.

"Hey, guys, welcome! The food will be ready quickly here, and there are drinks over by the table - help yourselves!"

Philip and I were having a great time, and he kept going back to the bar for more drinks. I was several behind him and still felt a buzz, and he was clearly getting drunk.

"Come on, let's dance!" he said to me, pulling my hand.

I followed him into the lawn where several people were dancing to the thumping music, and I did my best to dance with him. As a rule of thumb, "dancing" and "engineering" are rarely spoken about in the same breath, and in my case there was a good reason. I'd never been a proper dancer - and, in truth, I don't think Philip was a proper dancer, either, but as sloshed as he was, he didn't seem to care. What's the phrase - "Dance like nobody's watching"? I think Philip was squarely in that category!

We had some fun trying to dance, and then a slower song came on, and he immediately pulled me close and started to move slowly. He was grinding his crotch into me, and eliciting some cheers from the crowd, especially when he held my face and kissed me right there in front of everyone.

"Philip, don't you think that's a bit much here in public?" I asked him.

"Nonsense!" he said, a bit too loud, "I want everyone to know that we are together!"

He kissed me again, and his hand slid down my back and he squeezed my ass, getting another cheer from the crowd.

I slid my hand down his back and simply patted his bum.

"I think maybe you've had enough to drink for the night!" I said to him.

"No, no, no! I want another one!" he said, letting go of me and heading to the bar. Fortunately for me, and not so much for him, Jeanne met him at the bar.

"Hey, Philip, I think you should go with some water, maybe - give the booze a little break, what do you think?"

"Are you saying that I'm too drunk?" he asked.

"I've never seen him go this crazy," I said to her, "have you?"

"No," she replied, then said to him, "Philip, let's go get something to eat, maybe, and have a bottle of water, instead. We're just getting concerned."

We steered him to the food table and then he and I found a couple of empty chairs and sat down.

"What's going on, man? I've never seen you sock away drinks like this!"

He looked at me and tears welled up in his eyes.

"My mom left my dad," he said, "He called me just before you got to my dorm."

"Oh, shit! Hey, I'm sorry! Why didn't you tell me?"

"And ruin the party?"

"Come on, dude, we needed to talk about this!"

"Oh, Rory, I will, I just want to forget about it tonight, OK? I know that won't make it go away, I just don't want to think about it!"

But, he apparently did think about it, as he started to cry. Not knowing what else to do, I hugged him and he sobbed. He probably only sobbed because he was so hammered.

"Uh oh!" he said, pushing me back.

I started to ask what "uh oh" was about, but I could see on his face that he was about to hurl, and I quickly helped him to the edge of the backyard and he puked, luckily in the grass by the fence. After a couple more heaves, Jeanne was there with a bottle of water for us.

"Here, Philip, here's some water - rinse your mouth out, OK?" I said to him.

Soon, Mark was there with a hose and was hosing down the area. He came back with a couple of traffic cones and some "CAUTION" tape and blocked off the area.

"Don't want anyone stumbling into this!" he said, laughing.

Jeanne glared at him.

"Mark, give the guy a break!"

"What? It's just a joke!" he replied to her.

Even Philip agreed.

"Yeah, it's OK, Jeanne, it is funny. I'm so sorry I upchucked all over your lawn!"

"Upchucked?" Mark said, almost doubling over with laughter, "Man you hurled! It's OK - not the first time it's happened - that's why I have the cones and the tape!"

Philip looked at me.

"Maybe I need to walk back - you can stay, I'll be fine. Jeanne, great party, but I have something I need to work through."

"Hey," I said to him, "I'm not letting you go home by yourself. Go hit the bathroom before we go - clean yourself up a bit. Jeanne, Mark, it was fun. It was a good season of volleyball, too."

"I hope that you're on board for the fall semester, too!" she said to me, "If I don't see you before you go, have a good summer!"

Philip went into the house and Jeanne looked at me.

"Is he alright?"

"I don't know - some bad news from home. I'm sure he'll be OK."

The two of us decided that the walk back would help him. He was pretty drunk, and we walked arm in arm, mostly so I could support him.

As we rounded the corner toward his dorm suddenly three guys popped out of the shadows and stood in front of us. I could sense that at least a couple more stepped in behind us.

"Well what do we have here?" one of them started, "A couple of faggots? Gay boys? Do you know what we do to gay boys?"

"Hey, my friend here had too much to drink at a party, I'm just trying to get him back to his dorm, we don't need any trouble!" I replied.

"Yeah? Well we've been watching you two for a while - and now, here you are walking all pretty, arm in arm. You queers! We're gonna teach you a lesson on queers! You two make me want to wretch!"

The next thing I knew someone grabbed me from behind and the one who was doing all the talking grabbed Philip and punched him hard in the stomach. Philip immediately threw up again all over his attacker. It would have been funny, but the guy who grabbed me turned me and punched me in the stomach, too. I doubled over in pain and I felt his knee catch me in the face. I saw stars and felt more punches to my midsection and one more to the side of my face. I remember falling to the ground and feeling more blows, then I blacked out.

The next thing I did remember was awakening with an EMT hovering over me. At first she was really blurry but eventually came into focus.

"Hey," she said to me, "I'm an EMT, and we are going to get you cleaned up a little and get you to a hospital."

When I breathed in a pain shot through my side like I'd never felt before. I winced and groaned.

"Try not to breathe too deeply," she said to me, "I'm pretty sure that you have at least one or two cracked ribs, and they're going to hurt a lot if you breathe deep. Try to talk quietly, but I want to ask you some questions, OK? First, I'm Kelly, and what's your name?"

"Rory," I said in a whisper. The pain in my ribs was excruciating.

"OK, Rory, and how about this other guy, do you know him?"

"Philip! Shit! Is he OK?" I said, trying to sit up and look around, but the pain in my ribs and my head made that impossible

"Relax, please," she said to me, "I think you'll both be fine, but you got beaten up pretty badly."

I turned my head to see other EMTs attending to Philip as they loaded him onto a gurney and started to put him in an ambulance.

"Where are they taking him? I need to go with him!" I said.

"Shh! Relax Rory! We'll get you going, soon, too, they just need to get him to the ER quickly."

"Why? What did those apes do to him?" I asked, starting to panic.

"Shh! Rory, calm down, please! He'll be fine, and we need to worry about you. Aside from your ribs, can you tell me what other pain you're feeling?"

I thought a little bit. I realized that I was only really able to see from my right eye. I reached my hand to my left eye and jumped at my own touch. I could also feel that my lip was swollen.

"God, I ache all over, and I guess those guys hit me pretty good."

"Well, 'good' is not the word I would choose," she said to me. "Now, we are going to roll you onto a backboard so we can pick you up. We'll be as gentle as possible, but I'm going to tell you that it will hurt. From palpating your ribs, I think they are cracked, hopefully not broken through. So when I tell you, we will roll you to your left side and slip the backboard under you, then roll you on top of it. Are you OK with that? If you need to yell, you do so. Cracked or broken ribs are tough to deal with. You can hold my hand, too, if that helps."

I took her hand and on three we rolled me to my left - it hurt like hell, but I managed to keep it to a loud groan. As I rolled back onto my back, the backboard was only about three quarters under me, and I felt the hands of the EMTs lift me the rest of the way onto the board. They strapped me on and then lifted me onto a gurney, and slid the gurney into an ambulance.

"Alright," I heard Kelly say, "let's get going!"

She climbed out the back and another EMT climbed in.

"Wait!" I said, "Can Kelly ride with me?"

"She's the driver," said the EMT that was with me.

"Can't you drive?" I asked, "I kind of got used to talking with her!"

"Hey Kelly," he said to her, "he wants you to ride with him - wanna switch?"

"OK, but lights only, and drive sanely! He doesn't need one of your typical rides, got it?"

They switched places.

She smiled down at me and held my hand again.

"He gets a little too enthusiastic about hurrying to the ER, and we don't need that. You need a SMOOTH RIDE more than anything else!"

She said "SMOOTH RIDE" loudly so the other EMT would hear her.

"Do you know how Philip is?" I asked her.

"No, but I think he'll be fine," she replied.

"You think? You don't know?"

"Well, he was completely out of it."

"We'd been at a party and he was way drunk," I said to her.

"Yeah, we figured that - he'd thrown up and there was a strong scent of alcohol in the vomit."

"Ugh, I guess you guys deal with some pretty gross stuff, huh?" I asked.

"Well, being in EMT is not as glamorous as you might think!" she said, smiling at me.

We got to the ER and I was whisked away and was hovered over by several doctors. X-rays and scans and procedures were interspersed with long periods of waiting. They confirmed two cracked ribs on my right side, a cracked right Zygomatic bone - the one by the eye. I kept asking about Philip, but I got no answers - HIPAA laws, I guess.

I fell asleep again and vaguely remember being moved around. I woke up in a regular room at the hospital. Confused at first about where I was, I looked around. As I did, I saw Angie almost leap up from the chair.

"Rory! You're awake! I was so worried! You look terri - I mean you look...God, you look like you've been through the wringer!"

"Angie - how did you get here? Why are you here? How did you know?"

"You listed me as your emergency contact, apparently!"

I did - I put her in, not my parents. I remember having to defend that to the nurse at the campus infirmary. Well, yet another thing that I'd have to explain to them.

Angie was at my bedside and holding my hand.

"What the hell happened?" she asked.

I told her about being at the party, Philip getting so drunk and about walking him home, and then getting jumped.

"Do you know how Philip is?" she asked.

"No, they wouldn't tell me anything." I replied.

She got quiet for a minute.

"Rory, you need to tell your parents about this, you know?"

"Yeah, I know - but when I do, I'll have to out myself to them, won't I?"

"You can tell them that the thugs thought you were gay, but you can also tell them that you were just helping a friend get to the dorm?"

"You know that my mother will see through that like a window, right?"

"Yeah, you may be able to fool your dad with it - he's in complete denial, but probably not your mother."

I sat there for a minute pondering what to do.

"Hey, I'm really thirsty, can you hand me that cup?"

She did and I took a drink. I looked at the call button clipped to the sheet and I pushed the button, and we waited for the nurse to show up.

"Do you need something?" a voice asked as a young man stepped in.

"Do you know how long I'll be here?"

"No, that's up to the doctors. You have two cracked ribs, and a cracked eye socket bone, so I'm sure they'd like to keep you here for a day or so to be sure that there's nothing else too serious going on. By the way, the police have been asking if you can give a statement to them. I won't call them unless you tell me that you're up to it."

I glanced to the wall to see a dry-erase chart with some names on it.

"Are you James?" I asked.

"Yes, that's me. I'm the floor nurse this shift - though I go off shift about an hour from now."

"Thank you, James," I managed. "So why doesn't it hurt to breathe? Last night it hurt like hell!"

"The wonders of pain medication!" he said.

"Are they opioids?" I asked.

"You have some morphine in your IV," he replied.

"I don't want an addiction. I'd rather have some pain than that!"

"Well, it's only a small dose. You can ask the doctor more about it. Don't worry about it - you'll be fine. Let the ribs heal a little bit before you worry about that."

"OK. You can tell the police that I'll give a statement whenever they'd like."

He left and I started thinking about what had happened and what I could tell the police, and then I thought about my parents and what I would tell them.

There was a knock on the door, and a policewoman entered the room.

"Excuse me, Mr. Edwards, I am Officer Thomason from the Manhattan Police. I need to get a statement from you concerning last night's events."

She looked at Angie, and then at me.

"I'll go out for a few minutes - how long will this take?" Angie asked the policewoman.

"Maybe a half an hour, I'd guess. Are you his sister?" she asked.

"Not really, no."

"Not really?"

"We are very close friends - I love her like she's my sister," I said.

"A girlfriend?" the officer asked.

"No - more like a sister," I replied.

I got a glance from the officer and then she looked at Angie, who was nodding in agreement.

"Please give us some time," she said to her, then turned to me, "you can have a lawyer present, you know."

"What the hell would he need a lawyer for?" Angie almost leapt at the officer.

"Whoa, sister, settle down!" the officer said to her.

"He got the shit kicked out of him, why would he need a lawyer - he can't possibly be a suspect?!"

"Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to leave us now, please!"

"I'll be fine Angie," I said, "come back in a half-hour. See if you can find Philip, OK?"

She glared at me as she walked to the door.

"If this bitch gets any kind of suspicious with you, you stop her and ask for a lawyer - Dad will help you pay for it, I promise!"

She left and the officer turned to me, raising an eyebrow.

"She's a bit, um, spirited isn't she?"

"She's very protective of me. We've been best friends since we were kids," I replied.

"Do you need protecting?" she asked.

"Maybe sometimes. Don't we all?"

"OK, Mr. Edwards, that's not what I'm here to talk about, I need to get your statement."

"First tell me why would I need a lawyer?" I began.

"I ask the questions here," she started, getting authoritative with me.

I just looked at her without saying a word.

"Mr. Edwards - may I call you Rory?"

"Sure. Now why would I need a lawyer?"

"Rory, the circumstances are these. The young men you fought with have told us that you two attacked them and they were defending themselves. I need to hear your side of things."

"You've talked to those apes?" I asked. "You know who they are? And what do you mean 'fought with'? They jumped us! Neither one of us even got a swing in!"

"A group of students were holding them down when the campus police arrived, and they held them until we did. There are several different stories going on. The stories they tell us don't make much sense to me, but they told us that you two jumped them while they were just walking home from a party. The group of students who were holding them down said that they were beating you pretty severely, which is kind of evident, but I still need to hear from you what was going on."

I told her my side of things - that we were walking home from a party. I did not want to tell her that we'd been drinking, but felt like I needed to. I did not tell her why they attacked us - I was not that ready to have a police record outing me, or Philip, as gay. I told her that I remembered Philip throwing up on the ring leader, and that I was hit a few times before passing out, then I knew nothing until the EMTs were there. I did not know that there had been anyone else there.

"That's quite a different story than we'd heard from the others, but it does seem more consistent with the fact that, other than bruises on their hands, the other guys have no injuries and you two do. And it matches with what the other students told us. Do you know why they would attack you like that?"

I looked at her long and hard before I answered.

"They thought that we were gay."

"Are you?" she asked.

"What difference does that make?" I asked. "They accused us of it, and started beating us up."

"What did they say?" she asked, "Try to remember the details."