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Gary didn't even know why he was in the group, everyone despised him. Could feel their malice and hatred, and he knew that he was to blame.
The one who introduced him to the group was Garraty, the only person nice enough to willingly start a conversation with him.
And Gary knew that he was mean and bitter, but the problem was that he always realizes it when it was already too late.
Ray was so nice and kind, well, at least to him. "Hey, how you doing!", Garraty said with a wave and a warm smile.
But Gary just stared at him, and blinked a few times. And not because he didn't want to talk to him, no, but because he didn't know what to say.
He tried to open his mouth a few times to say something, anything, but nothing came out, his head was blank.
And then, finally, he managed to muster out a "Hi", but it sounded wrong, mostly because his voice cracked, and on a 2 letter word of all words.
Ray paused for a moment and said, "Garraty, Ray Garraty", which was then followed by a hand shake.
Being the absolute idiot he was, Gary went for a fist bump. He didn't know why he did it, he had no one to fist bump with so the gesture was so, very strange.
But Garraty chuckled at the absurdity of the situation, then made a fist, and bumped it with Barkovitch's.
After an awkward moment, "Are you gonna tell me what your name is?", Garraty spoke.
"Oh! Uh, Gary Barkovitch", the words came out faster than necessary.
"Nice to meet you, Gary", he said, smiling.
And that was how it started, and after that, Gary was invited to hangouts, which almost always ended with someone picking a fight with him.
But Gary had to admit, he enjoyed the group's company, mostly because he had never been in a group.
Garraty, was the glue that held the group together, and he did it better than anyone. Ray was the closest person to a friend for Barkovitch.
Gary didn't like Pete, the guy had been calling him a killer ever since he told a story about how when he was young, he accidentally stepped on a dog and killed it. Even though he had shed actual tears while talking about the story, he was still convinced that Gary was a psychopath, and did it in purpose.
Baker was often, if not always, high, and smoking. Gary wondered how he could afford to get high all the time, considering the guy wasn't all that financially stable.
Olson, he was the funny one, the guy who made his drink come out of his nose from how hard he made him laugh. Gary liked Hank, and wanted to be friends with him, but that will never happen.
Stebbins was a creepy guy, he always spoke in riddles, and often stared at people for way too long.
To Gary, Parker was the same kind of guy as him, mean and bitter, but the group liked him, at least more than Barkovitch, and he wondered what differentiated them.
Harkness, was a weird guy, but probably better than Gary. He always carried around a note book, which he wrote in all the damn time. And Gary wondered what was Richard writing in there that was so fascinating to the point he didn't even interact with people.
And Gary, he was the odd one among the group. He spoke aloud everything that came to mind, even the thoughts that should never be spoken aloud.
His father had taught it into him that he cannot not be a fag, or not to stay near one for long.
Once, in 2nd grade, he had given his best friend a hug, but then his dad saw them, and that day, he got beaten black and blue, to the point where his face resembled a painting more than a face.
He began adopt his father's habits and personality after that. Cursing, starting fights, being as mean as possible, and even the small ones, when his dad hits the side of his head with the inside of his palm.
Gary came to every single hangout, he had never missed one. But today, he was going to miss it.
He got a damn cold, and it was bad. His nose was blocked and runny at the same time, his head hurt like a bitch, and he felt like he was freezing to death.
He lay in his bed, vulnerable with no energy to do anything. He hated his very existence at that moment, regretting that he was even born.
And with that, he began to wonder if anyone would notice that he was gone, or even worry about him. But he knew that no one would even notice his absence, and even if someone did, they wouldn't care.
Feeling sorry for himself, he went to sleep. But he was woken up by knocking on the door. The knocks were loud and strangely rhythmic.
Groaning, he dragged his body over to the door, and opened it.
There, inches away, stood Olson, his hand raised, and on it's way to knock again. He wore skinny dark blue jeans and a denim jacket with a white shirt peaking out from underneath.
Gary expected him to say something, but nothing, he was silent.
"Come on in", said Gary, his voice all raspy and hoarse, sounding like nails on a chalkboard.
Once Hank was inside, Gary closed the door, and went to his bed to lay down again.
He got in bed, then looked at Olson, and spoke, "What are you doing here?"
"I guess i got worried about you...or something", he replied, scratching his head.
Gary was...for a lack of a better word, happy. Yes, Gary was ecstatic that someone was worried about him, but he was also very confused.
"Why?", Gary asked before he could stop himself.
"Because you're my friend?", Hank responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
At that moment, Barkovitch felt like he was on cloud nine, hell, he could even tap dance from how happy he was.
After a moment, "So... What happened to you?", Olson asked.
"I got a cold", Gary replied absentmindedly, still thinking about what Hank said.
"Did it get better?"
Gary shook his head, not wanting to speak with a sore throat.
Suddenly, Hank walked over to the kitchen, and spoke, "Hold on, I'll cook you something".
Just as his hand reached for the cupboard, it stopped. Hank turned around, and asked, "May i?".
"Oh, of course!", Gary said too eagerly.
And with that, Hank began to cook with whatever he could find in Gary's mysterious fridge.
It probably only had a pack of instant ramen and an egg.
After a few minutes of him cooking and Gary watching him, fascinated, like he had never seen someone cooking, the meal was done.
Hank brought the dish to the dresser beside his bed, and to Gary's surprise, it looked incredible. It looked, smelled, and probably tasted delicious.
And that made him realize just how hungry he was, he hadn't even noticed it.
Hank spoke, "Hope you enjoy, I'm not that good of a chef", but he sounded so quiet, not like the loud guy he is usually.
Gary didn't say anything, just smiled at him before devouring the dish.
And he was proven right, the meal was so damn delicious, it was the best thing he had tasted since he moved to college. As he ate, a warm feeling settled in his gut, making his cold a tiny bit better.
"Woah, you sure were hungry!", Hank said with a grin.
"Yeah, i was really hungry", Gary replied, not even looking at him.
Hank's smile faltered, even for just a second.
And they sat there in silence for what felt like hours to Hank, but was probably minutes or even seconds.
Breaking the silence, Olson spoke, "Can I ask you something weird?"
"Yeah, go for it", Gary replied with his mouth full.
Taking a deep breath, he spoke, "What do you think about queers?"
Gary froze with a spoon halfway to his mouth. And then, he laughed, full on cackled before answering, "What? Are you a fag?"
While he was busy laughing, Gary failed to notice Olson's face darkening.
"You know what, never mind, forget it!", Hank said, standing up.
"Wait! What was the question?!", Gary asked, his voice carrying a hint of desperation.
"Never mind!", he yelled, already walking to the door.
"Dude! What is the matter with you?", he questioned, standing up to chase after him.
Before he could even get up, Hank was already gone. And just like that Gary was all alone, the warm feeling had dissipated by now, and his nose was still blocked, fuck.