Chapter Twenty-four

24.
All of a sudden, the telephone rang, its shrill sound leaping into my thoughts. I hadn't remembered taking it into the computer room with me, but I just leaped forward and picked it up.
“Hello, this is Shane.” I said, and my voice still sounded a little breathless.
To my surprise, the voice on the other line did, too. “Shane! Oh, thank goodness. This is Bryn.”
“Bryn?” Wait, seriously? “Why are you calling me?”
She immediately got right to the point. “R cut himself. Sometime earlier today.”
Seconds stretched. I remembered the sincerity in her voice, no joking whatsoever. “No.” I found myself saying. I couldn't believe; no, it couldn't be true.
“Yes, unfortunately. Did you see his Facebook status?”
I hesitated. I didn't want to believe her. “Well, yes... but I couldn't tell exactly what it said.”
“Kind of cryptic, I know. But he meant it that way, of course. Didn't want to really broadcast it to the world, but maybe hint it.”
My brain was numb, edging towards frozen, but thankfully my tongue remained. “I'm thankful and everything, but, why are you calling me?”
“You're his best friend, Shane,” she told me. “And you need to help him.”
Shocked, once again. “But what can I do?”
“Come over. Invite yourself over, if he doesn't want you to come. But you need to come. You need to talk to him.” Her voice sounded truly urgent.
“But Bryn, I don't know what I could say. Can't you talk to him?”
“Like I said, you're his best friend. I'm just his sister. I don't think he'll listen to anybody but you.”
I thought and thought. I didn't know what else I could do, but I didn't know if I could do what seemed to be my only option. “...All right. I'll come.” I had a few questions. “Have you told your mom?”
I could hear Bryn breathe in, deeply. “No. I don't know how, to break news like that to her. It would destroy her. And I'm not the one to tell, also. What with my little episode with drugs. I'd feel like a cheater. That's also one reason why I won't try to talk to R. I feel like a hypocrite, even though I've never- hurt myself... like that. Just in a different way, I did.”
I couldn't respond to that. I just asked my second question. “Um, if you don't mind saying... how did you find out?”
I could hear her breathe in again, several times. Slowly. It must be a hard (and fresh) memory. “Um, it was less than an hour ago. I don't remember how long. I just got the idea to call you, well, right before I called you. I went upstairs to use the bathroom, the one by R's bedroom, you know. I knocked on the door and didn't hear anything- later R told me he had called out 'Don't come in', but I didn't hear because he had the fan going- so I went in. And he was in there.” She stopped for a minute, and I regretted my vivid imagination. Stupid thing. “Anyway. He was standing above the sink, putting a band-aid on it...” she stopped again.
“It's okay,” I told her.
“No, I'm all right. Really. Anyway, I don't think I really even said anything when I walked in. And all R did was look at me. Like a statue. And then he told me not to tell Mom. Or anybody. And of course I am, now, and I feel bad. So if you can avoid it, please don't tell him that I told you.”
“Okay,” I had just one more question. “Do you think I should call R before going over?”
She was silent for a little while longer, but I could hear her breathing, so I knew she was still there. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, call him. But even if he says no, then make up some excuse- say you're coming anyway.”
“All right.”
Silence.
“Thanks, Shane.”
“Bye.”
We hung up.
I must admit (although I'd like not to) that the first thing I did was go upstairs, to my bedroom (phone still in hand), and I sat down on the bed. Just sat. Thought. Wondered how I could possibly help him, like Bryn seemed so sure I could.
I would have no idea what to say.
Seriously.
No idea.
But I knew that what he was doing – that what R, my best friend, was doing – had to stop.
...Yet, how could I tell him that, in the exact right words?
I didn't know. I just knew I had to act, which I did.
I dialed R's cell, staring out the window again, as I had before. Still no stars, just pitch black. But there in my room, it looked empty, instead of grand. And cold. It looked cold.
“Hello?” R picked up. I hadn't counted the rings, but I knew it had been six.
“Hi R, this is Shane.”
“Oh, hi Shane.” He sounded relatively normal, besides sounding a little bit tired, or gruff. “What's up?”
I forced myself to keep my tone light. It was hard. “Oh, I just finished all my homework so I was wondering if we could hang out or something.”
“I've finished my homework too.” Pause. “But let me check with Mom first. She might need my help with something.”
Under regular circumstances, I would have been thrilled that R wanted to help out his Mom, but now I just wondered if it was simply an excuse for saying that I couldn't come.
He came back. “No, Mom doesn't need me. I guess you can come over here, unless you want me over there...”
“Nah, let's do it at your place. My mom's in one of those moods, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah. Okay. See you, then, I guess.”
“See you. Bye.”
The conversation ended quickly. I was puzzled how it had gone, but at least he wasn't refusing me. It was then that I remembered I didn't actually have a ride to R's house. And I wasn't about to explain exactly why I needed to go over there to my parents. I figured, if R's parents don't know yet, than neither should mine. But maybe later.
After pulling on a warmer sweatshirt, I bounded down the stairs, looking for my dad (who would be more likely to agree to driving me).
“Dad?” I called.
“In here!” His voice rang from the living room.
I rushed in, and quickly popped my question. Mom was there, to my slight dismay, but at least she seemed to be feeling better than before. They asked a few questions, and thankfully, without going into any details at all, I was able to get it across from them that I did need to go to R's house. So Dad grabbed his keys and drove me over. I considered asking him in the car why Mom was acting so weird, but decided against it. We were both silent on the ride over. Only when he dropped me off, he leaned over and told me,
“Have fun.”
Have fun? Yeah, right!
R answered the door. I noticed that he was wearing a long sleeve shirt, but it was November, after all, and nighttime. I greeted him casually.
“Hey, R.”
“Hi. Come on in.”
At first we just acted normal, doing whatever we would do any other day, if we weren't a bit stiff. But both of us tried to ignore it. We talked a little, about school, watched a TV show, didn't play a video game, because R said he 'didn't feel like it'. I knew better.
Also, when I had actually arrived at his house again and seen him, seen R, my best friend ever, that was when I had realized that I really truly didn't have an idea what I was going to say to help him. When I saw Bryn in the kitchen, getting a soda from the fridge, she nodded at me. More like nudged her head at me, actually. Like, 'what are you waiting for? Go! Help!' I wished I could have told her, I was at a loss.
But then, when R and I were just sitting on his bed across from each other, ran out of things to do, I spoke. I didn't know how I said the words, they just came out.
“R, I know about... what you did today. I know you cut yourself.” My words sounded so ludicrous when they actually came out, instead of scary, like they had seemed inside my head. R, my R, the one I knew better than anyone? Actually harm himself purposely like that?
No way! Never!
But R didn't protest. He didn't respond, either. He just looked down- at his wrist. I gulped.
Then. “How did you find out?” He asked, looking up at me. “Was it my Facebook status?”
Well, it partly had been. And I didn't want him to hold a grudge against Bryn. “You shouldn't go posting that kind of thing where all your friends can read it.”
“I'm lucky my parents don't have Facebook, then.” He said, and – I couldn't believe it – actually smiled. Smiled, like it was some game having such a secret from his parents. That gave me strength. Anger did.
I stood up. “R, you can't do this to yourself. But, mostly,” my mind was racing, and I felt like my body should be swaying around in a circle, with my feet firmly planted on the floor. Because that's what my brain felt like it was doing. “Mostly, why? Why, R? Why would you do that to yourself?”
He sunk down lower into his bed. “You don't understand, Shane.”
“That's darn right I don't! So explain! Tell me!” I tried not to shout. Tried to keep my voice gentle. I didn't want to fight with him.
“Well, why shouldn't I?” He had been looking down again, but he looked up suddenly, straight at me. His eyes were, well, blazing. “What's wrong with it? You tell me that, Shane, since you seem so set against it.”
This was the part that I wasn't prepared for. Oh wait, I wasn't prepared for any of it. “One-” I listed, “It's dangerous. People can die from stuff like that, if the cut is deep enough and you lose enough blood. And no matter what you do, no matter what happens to you, I know, I KNOW, that you are not suicidal.”
To my great relief, he nodded. “All right. So what? And besides, it's not like I'll actually do it bad enough to kill me. I have some sense.”
I was still mad. It helped me think of words to say. “If you have some sense, then why aren't you using it? How could you possibly know how deep something has to be to kill you? And even if you don't kill yourself by that, it's still extremely dangerous. You could just die from loss of blood. And, I'm not a doctor, but I at least know that it's still really bad for your health. And also, do you actually like not having much use of your hands, because your wrists are scarred? We couldn't even play a video game today.”
“That's not a big deal-”
“But it can be,” I interrupted him, not done with my talking. “Depending on how far you're going to go with this. And, judging from your status, it's not the first time.”
He nodded. “No, it's not.”
“When was?” I dared ask.
“Right after I found out about my mom. About her cancer, that is.”
A frightening thought hit me. “...My... phone call... before or after?”
“Before,” he swallowed. “I'm really sorry about that call, by the way.”
“It's fine,” I told him. But I needed to get back on track. “Can I ask you a pretty personal question?”
He glared at me, but it actually looked a little amused. “Nothing has stopped you before.”
“Why? Why are you trying to kill pain by bringing even more pain? I just don't understand that.” My anger was gone. But frustration I still had.
“Like I said, you don't understand. I'm not trying to kill the pain, duh. I'm trying to release it. You know I've never been good at showing my feelings. Like, remember that one night in your room when I was crying? That was horror for me. I couldn't believe what I was doing. And, well, this way I can release everything without having to make a fool of myself. A release. Can you understand that?”
It struck me like a bolt of lightening, sucking the breath out of me. James' words came back to me, from that day in the closet. 'A release from it all.' I pulled in a gasp of air. “R!”
He heard the serious tone of my voice. “Um? Yes?”
“That day in the bathroom. Someone offered you an escape. What did he give you?”
“Wait – how do you know about that?”
“Doesn't matter. I need to know.”
He sighed. “Fine, if you must. But it's not gonna help you with anything, Shane. He offered me some drugs, but I said no, I have my own release.”
My legs couldn't really hold me anymore. I sat down, plop, on the floor. R towered over me, so he sat down to join me. “Please say something, Shane,” he begged. “I liked your lecture better than this silence.”
That brought my senses back around. I jumped up. “Oh right, my lecture!” R groaned, and I ignored him, of course. “I still don't really understand how it's a 'release' from the pain. Or releases the pain you already have. Or whatever. But I'm trying to. I want to understand you. Anyway, second reason.” R started snickering a little, but I shot him a glance, and that assured him I was completely serious with every molecule of my being. “Two – it's addicting. Once you get in the habit, it's hard to kick it. It's just as bad as drugs, R. And I know how you've always despised those. This is pretty much on the same level. Harmful, stupid-” he started to scowl when I said the word stupid. Oops, bad choice on my part. “I don't mean that you are stupid, R. I mean your actions are not smart right now. Or at least some of them, some of the choices you've made. You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled.
I felt my blood rushing, getting cold. Was I even helping? Or just prodding a stubborn case, making it worse? I couldn't tell. R spoke again.
“I guess I get you, Shane. I hadn't really thought about all that stuff. Not all of it, at least. But what can I do? Like you said, it's addicting.”
I shuddered. I racked my brain, searching for something, anything. Then, I had an idea. “R, what's something that you would pay money to see me do?”
“Huh?” he raised his eyebrows. “You mean like shaving your legs or something like that?”
I gulped. This could be interesting. “I guess, just, anything. Anything possible, that is.”
I could see the gears in his head turning. He thought, for a minute or so. “Oh! I got it.”
“What?” I was pretty nervous. I braced myself for the blow.
“I would pay good money to see Shane Baskett talk to someone he doesn't know – be outgoing, you know. Oh! Especially a girl!”
Well. Wow. I hadn't expected that. But I couldn't turn back. “Every day that you don't cut yourself, I'll do that. I'll talk to somebody I don't know. But only if you don't cut yourself, if you do, then the whole thing is off. And if you get bored with that, you can change it. Until you get un-addicted. Deal?”
R looked stunned. I'm sure that he wasn't expecting that, just like I hadn't been expecting his wish. “Um...” he sounded baffled. “Wow. Wow!”
“I know. It's a big deal. But what you're doing, that's a big deal to me. And it hurts me, too, just like it hurts you. So you need to stop. I'm willing to do this – for you, for your own good. Because you're my best friend! So, what'dyou say?”
He bowed his head. When he looked up, I could see his eyes full of moisture. He wouldn't like that! “Yes. Okay. I'll do it, as long as you do it to. I'll try my best, Shane,” he said. “But I don't know how I'll do it. I seriously don't think I have the will power.”
“Yes you do! If you had enough will power to do, well, where do I start? To help take care of your sick mom. To be so strong, going through what you're going through. And if you had the will power to-” I winced, and he did too, a little. “To hurt yourself like you've done, then you will have the will power to stop. You WILL. Okay?”
He nodded.
That's not good enough. “I said, okay?!” I raised my voice, like a coach on a football team, leading his players in a chant.
'Okay?'
'Okay!'
'I can't hear you... did someone say something?'
'OKAY!!!!'
And it worked. He raised his voice, too. “Okay! Deal!” I stood up, so did R. I actually even shook his hand, being careful not to bump his left wrist while doing so.
“Want to seal it in blood?” R asked, joking. But I didn't think it was funny.
I sent him a look.
“Gosh, Shane! I was just kidding! A deal is a deal.”
“Good.” I must say, though, that when he had said that, I started shaking. It was just all starting to become too much for me, and I was exhausted. “Um, I think I'd better go home now. It's getting kind of late.”
“Okay.”
We smiled at each other. It felt nice, being friends. I wondered if things might be a little awkward at school, or just between us two, because of what had just happened in his bedroom. It really had been intense. But I had a feeling. A feeling that things would be okay, or at least as okay as they could be.
When I was downstairs in the front hallway waiting for Dad to come pick me up, Bryn walked by. She raised her eyebrows at me, asking.
“We talked about it,” I said simply.
She smiled. “Oh, good,” she breathed. “Thank you so much, Shane!” Then she reached forward and gave me a hug, just like in R's kitchen before. I was startled, but welcomed it. I couldn't really push her away, could I?