The Sleepover Plan

(This story contains strong language and mentions of homophobia, sexual violence, physical violence, and abuse.)

A woman in denim overalls yelled, “Just ten minutes!” Her kid of about 6 jumped at the sound of that and raced his friends to the jungle gym, their footsteps creating a lively rhythm that seemed out of place.

Perhaps Jake was out of place in a seemingly ordinary world.

“Can you believe we used to be that small?” Alina’s voice emerged distant.

The rhythmic creaking of her swing as she moved slowly accompanied Jake’s feelings as his mind raced through plans burdened with guilt and fear. Jake examined Alina’s face. It was void of emotions as her eyes followed the kids around the playground.

Jake wanted to say matter-of-factly that everyone must go through that size to grow. But she knew that. Of course, she knew. The kids’ smallness wasn’t what troubled her. He knew that, too.

“Hey,” Jake said in a low voice, elbowing her. “You okay? Considering…”

In the vibrant playground, filled with the muffled laughter of children and the disembodied chirping of birds, Alina reached for Jake’s hand, a bittersweet signal for the beginning of their freedom–or their demise.

“Yeah…” Her voice trailed. “Yeah, it’s settled. We’ll have our sleepover on Satur-” She stopped as a ball bounced in their direction.

A group of youngsters ran after it, kicking up a cloud of dust in their wake. Jake left his swing, reaching for the ball. He heard the chains creak and felt the wind rush by. With a ponytail bouncing behind her, a girl approached him and requested that he deliver the ball to her feet. It was a soccer match, she explained, and touching the ball with your hands was against the rules.

“You’re not supposed to touch it while playing.” Despite his efforts to appear relaxed, Jake’s tension was palpable in the way he spoke. Irritation tinged his voice. “The ball is off the field, dude.”

“Oh, yeah? I’m surprised you even know that, dude.” She emphasized the last word and held her hand out for the ball.

“Are you even allowed to play ball in the playground?” Jake couldn’t shake the emphasis of the last word, all the implications of it, even though he tried to ignore it.

“What are you, the playground police, now? Why don’t you go back to making out with your boyfriend? Now, why don’t you? Or are you scared Noah’s going to beat you up again?”

Jake dropped the ball to the girl’s feet as the surrounding kids burst into laughter, their fingers all pointing at him, mocking him as they left. Instantly, his irritation dissolved like mist in the wind, leaving behind a void. The emptiness that had been governing his life lately.

“Wow.” Alina’s voice reached his ears from a far-off location. “Those kids.”

“Were we like that when we were 10 or something?” Jake’s fingers instinctively traced the jagged scar on his left cheek, a constant reminder of Noah’s pocketknife and the rejecting stares of the townspeople.

“I hope not.” Their eyes locked, and this time, Jake noticed a flicker of gloom in Alina’s expression. She tucked a strand of her blue hair behind her ear and whispered, “Do you think everyone knows now?”

Jake shrugged. “Probably,” he said. “People in small towns love to talk.” As he looked at the kids, his blank expression gave nothing away. Gravity pulled his facial muscles down. He could feel it. On the outside, he may have appeared to be frowning, but inside, a sense of numbness prevailed. Dude. Why don’t you go back to making out with your boyfriend? Now, why don’t you? Or are you scared Noah’s going to beat you up again?

“Sleepover on Saturday?” Alina’s voice wavered with a touch of nervousness. “Like we planned?”

Jake trudged over to the swing next to Alina, his feet dragging with each step. His nod was automatic, his mind consumed by thoughts of world complexities, small-town meanness, and dreaded sleepover details.

Alina reached out her hand, and Jake held it. “You okay?” she asked. “Considering…”

He nodded again. “I never thought we’d end up like this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Everything feels so… complicated.”

As they sat there, a rowdy group of kids rushed past them, creating a whirlwind of movement and laughter. The chuckling, roaring, and thrusting sounds they made overwhelmed Jake, making him feel like he was caught between worlds. The contrasting worlds of happy-go-lucky 8-year-olds and 15-year-olds who carried the weight of the world on their shoulders. Everything felt so complicated. The sleepover. Noah. Damien.

The swings staggered as the kids passed through, bringing him back to the real world, the unforgiving small town. Memories of the past months mingled with the uncertainties of their future, the vagueness of a mediocre life. His mood was tainted with melancholy and anxiety. Still, they had a plan. They had planned a sleepover and everything that would follow dinner.

Jake felt Alina reach out again to comfort his turmoil, probably hoping to comfort herself as well. “Me neither,” she said, although Jake had already forgotten what they were talking about.

“It’s been ten minutes,” the denim-overall woman yelled a few feet away from them. “We have to go home for dinner.” One hand was holding the kid’s jacket and the other her round belly. “Say goodbye to your friends now.”

Alina placed her left hand on her abdomen and looked at it from above. Jake tilted his head, observing the sky above them as it disappeared. As the daylight dimmed, dark orange and blue hues merged, and the playground fell silent. Their hands remained intertwined in the twilight.

The playground now seemed eerily quiet, with the noise fading away. The sound became muffled at first, like a distant echo, until it slowly and frailly disappeared, leaving only the screeching of the rusty swings and the voice of their conscience. It wasn’t until then that Jake spoke again.

“So, it’s final. My place. This Saturday…”

“This Saturday…”

Jake pondered the sleepover that would mark the beginning of their carefully orchestrated plan. Their meticulously formed plan, two weeks in the making, was ready for action. Myriads of reasons flooded his mind, all urging him to reconsider and abandon the plan. However, he could feel it beckoning. The sleepover, the plan, the gun. They were all calling for him.

Privately, he thought they had no other choice but to do it. Instead of a sleepover, what truly awaited them after dinner was a decisive moment to end their suffering. In fact, there would be two moments.

They were alone now. In the playground. In their life.

A couple of months ago, they had mustered up the courage to tell their parents, and the room fell silent. They had gone to the principal, seeking guidance and support. Frustrated and desperate, they took their case to the police. Each time they approached an adult, they were met with dismissal and indifference.

Jake was gay either way. Alina was a slut. Everyone knew that.

Their parents had prayed for forgiveness on their behalf. The principal had asked them to tone down their provocative behavior. The police had taken their statements at various times in separate rooms, leaving them with well wishes. In the weeks that followed, whispers spread like wildfire through the town. People loved to talk.

In my days, kids constantly bullied one another. It wasn’t a big deal.

Trust me, man, this generation is messed up. Hair that’s blue and piercings on the lips. Not right upstairs, man. I believe that scrambled tofu shit has led to scrambled brains.

If you don’t want people to know you’re gay, don’t act gay. It’s plain simple. Don’t be gay, man, and maybe people won’t beat you up for it.

When the free-the-nipple chick becomes pregnant, all of a sudden she claims it wasn't consensual, accusing Damien of rape and shit. It’s hard to believe her, bro, when she walks around with her fucking tits poking through her t-shirt.

Small-town people loved to talk about things that didn’t concern them. They loved to tell Jake and Alina how it was their fault they were assaulted, not recognizing, however, that they were assaulted–they were asking for it.

I used to get bitten up as a child. It made me stronger. It might make you straight.

What do you expect from men when you dress like that, girl?

Each humiliation and pain they endured chipped away at their dignity until they could bear it no longer. Until they found comfort in each other. No future awaited them in this Godforsaken town. Taking matters into their own hands was necessary now. Jake could feel the heavy burden of guilt weighing him down, the fear of going to prison, and the possibility of never seeing his family again. He may only be a sinner to them. But even sinners loved their families.

Jake and Alina had thoroughly thought out each aspect of their plan. They could put an end to it all in one instant. And then another. Alina had volunteered to pull the trigger.

“We’ll have dinner with my parents,” Jake said. “And when I go to the bathroom, you'll start your monologue.”

“I’ll start crying–super easy these days–and I’ll tell them I’m so sorry that all of this happened, and I should have never provoked Damien. I know that now, and I’ll pray that the Lord forgives me. And I’ll pray that you’re converted and forgiven of your sins…” She drifted, her eyes fixed on the gravel beneath her feet.

“And when you give me the cue…”

“Jake’s a nice guy…”

“I’ll enter my dad’s study and get the gun and hide it in my room…”

“From where we’ll sneak out around midnight…”

“And we’ll end it. Everything’s set…”

“Two bullets… If everything goes according to plan, we’ll only need two…”

“One for Damien and one for Noah…”

“And then we leave this shitty place forever…”

“Forever…”

As they stood, the swings let out one final creak. In an instant, the streetlights burst to life, and as they walked home, the moon emerged above the jungle gym, casting a haunting glow along their way.