7.
Sunday, I slept in, completely worn out from Saturday's workout. I mostly stayed in outside, doing even more homework until it was finally all finished, playing video games, watching TV, and reading. It was a nice lazy day, one I really needed. I was rested when I went back to school on Monday, but I was not prepared.
At lunch, I sat down in my usual spot, and noticed that R wasn't there. In fact, I hadn't seen him since 3rd period, when we had a class together. I was going to sit alone, I guessed. But I was wrong, because right as I bit into my sandwich, a voice from behind made me jump.
“Fine, make a pig out of yourself, Shane.” My name was said sarcastically, tauntingly. I turned around and looked up, to see whose face the voice belonged to, but I had already made a guess. And I was right. It was Sophia. She sat down across from me, crossing her legs and her arms, and frowning at me. She annoyed me so much, I swallowed, and had the nerve to ask,
“What?” And I also frowned back.
Her face softened a bit then, but her words were still a little harsh.
“You stood me up on Saturday. I guess you must be a jerk just like the other guys.”
Now that was just plain rude.
“I'm not a jerk, and you'd better watch who you're calling names, otherwise you'll deserve the name yourself,” I retorted. The look on her face was nothing but utter surprise.
“Okay, fine, I'm not really mad at you. Just kind of ticked off. I mean, you did stand me up. But I guess it's not that big a deal, since I'm talking to you now.”
“Good. But what do you want to talk to me about?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes, exasperated at me for some reason beyond my knowledge.
“Wake up and smell the coffee beans, Shane. I want to apologize.”
I was baffled. Confused. And also hungry. I wished she would hurry up and explain things so I could finish eating.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, never mind. Well... don't you see? I'm like you, Shane. I'm shy too. Well, not so much anymore, but I used to be even worse than you. But I got over it. I kept waiting and waiting for you to talk to me, but you never did, so I decided that I'd just up and talk to you. But I thought it would be kind of weird to just randomly start talking to you. Well, some people wouldn't think it's weird, but you would. I know you would,” she said rather smugly. She was right, but I resented the fact that she thought she knew so much about me. She continued, “So that's why I wanted you in office. I thought we could both get president and vice president or something, because then I could talk to you without it being weird. But that didn't work, and it wasn't until after I got one of the girls to nominate you that I realized of course no way would you let yourself be elected. I wouldn't have either, two years ago, or even last year. So, here I am, sounding like a complete creeper and freak, talking to you out of the blue. But anyway, I'm sorry for being the reason you have to do that stupid counseling stuff.”
Again, I was astounded and amazed. Her story seemed to make some sense, but not in the world I lived in, that was for sure. I was gaping at her in my mind, but my mouth must literally have been open, too, because she started giggling.
I shut my lips, but then opened them again to speak.
“Are you seriously telling me the truth?”
“Yes!” she said with so much fervor that I forced myself to believe her. But still, there were so many unanswered questions, that I couldn't even begin to voice. Besides, my stomach was rumbling harder than ever, and lunch period would be over soon.
“Um, okay then, but what does this mean? Because I'm hungry.”
She laughed lightly. “It means we're friends. Deal?”
“Sure. Deal...” She shook my hand, and then left me there, going off with one of her gal pals, leaving me with sandwich in hand and millions of questions in my mind. If I had been a more intellectual person, with a more serious brain, I might have been thinking “Life sure is a strange thing.” But really I was thinking “What. The. Heck!”
I managed to finish my food just before the bell rang though, so I tried to push all my questions about everything out of my head and focus on school. I succeeded, mostly, until that day's session with Mr. Quirk. That was when he brought up the subject of girls, and Kyle was right, he sure “ate that stuff up”. But I kept my patience, and was rewarded by getting let out 10 minutes early.
When I was walking home, a thought struck me with such impact that I laughed out loud, sarcastically if not bitterly. Going to these sessions might be harder than running for office! I gave another laugh, sharp and violent that it sounded more like a dog's bark than a laugh. But it was true. I walked the rest of the way home with a quicker pace, wanting to get inside and meld my brain with the TV or maybe the computer. I had had enough excitement for one day.
And thankfully, that was exactly what I did. My mom had gone to the store, thankfully, so I sat on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and an apple, watching all my favorite shows and even some ones that I only watched in secret and didn't let anyone know I liked, like iCarly and Drake and Josh, and other ones on the Disney Channel. I wasted away most of the afternoon doing that, and I played a few computer games, too, until Mom came in and forced me to start my homework. But I was okay with it, because I was actually just starting to get a little bit bored with the media.
“Okay, Mom.”
I was just walking past the phone when it's shrill ring penetrated my ears.
“I got it!” Picking up the telephone and holding it to my ear, I continued on my way up the staircase.
“Hello, this is Shane.”
“Hey buddy, what's up?” I would know R's voice anywhere, but it sounded different when he had said that sentence. Strained, somehow. I paid it no mind.
“Going up to start my homework. I've been watching TV all day...”
A chuckle flowed through his lips. “See that new episode of Hannah Montana?”
I started to protest, but he knew me too well.
“I know you watch it, Shane. Heck, I've watched it with you at your house. And I can practically hear you grinning on your end of the phone.”
“All right, so I did watch it. But only because she's good-looking and you know it.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“So, anyway, where were you today? I never even saw you after Social Studies.”
There was a pause, a gap in the conversation. I was about to ask if he was still there, when I heard him take one deep breath, and then he plunged in.
“That's what I'm calling about. I'm in the hospital. I'm okay, except for a little tired. It's my mom. Something's wrong with her, they still won't tell me what. I just thought I should tell you. See, I got a call after Social Studies, and it was Bryn. She sounded really freaked out, and told me to come home right away. Saying that Mom was having all these weird flu symptoms, but I guess they were worse than the flu. I mean, I knew that she's been sick for several weeks, but I thought she was getting better. Bryn said she was coughing up blood, though. So I went home, after getting permission, of course. And when I got home an ambulance was there with Mom inside it, and Bryn was really stressed out, calling Dad on the phone to tell him.
“I've been here ever since then. Lemme tell you, man, hospitals might not look that bad from the outside, but I'm dying in here. Bryn left in her car as soon as we found out Mom was 'stabilized' or whatever, Bryn's never been very good with handling pressure... well, Dad says he's spending the night here, but I'd rather die than do that. So I was just hoping I could bum out a night over at your place.”
To say that I was literally speechless at that moment would not be an exaggeration. In fact, it might be lacking in something. Also, words cannot describe how I was feeling. I don't remember it very well, either, except I know that I was feeling pain, and also guilt. Pain for R, guilt for myself. I guess my mother walked into my bedroom then, which shows in what a catatonic state I was in, I didn't even hear her knocking. Apparently R was also saying my name over the phone, but I didn't hear that either.
Mom took the receiver from my hands and started talking into it. I simply sat down on my bed, hands outstretched, palms up. Nothing to give. I couldn't even help my friend by saying that he could spend the night here. My mom had done that for me, because she had taken the phone downstairs again to put it back in it's wall bracket/charger. My thoughts drifted, and eventually I got my voice back. But Mom hadn't returned, so I had nobody to talk to. I hear one car drive up, Dad. Then I heard a car leave just minutes later. What was wrong with me? I wondered. GET UP , DUMMY! You can't be all comatose when R gets here. He's gonna need your help! I yelled at myself, using that little voice in my brain. Finally, my legs started moving, and, working together with my arms, pulled me up off the bed. I padded my way down the stairs, and automatically into the kitchen, where I found my father cooking some dinner. He looked back, hearing my footsteps, and smiled.
“Your mother told me about your friend's phone call. She's gone to pick him up from the hospital now. I'm cooking dinner. Care to help?”
I nodded, saw some food on the stove that needed to be stirred, and proceeded to do so. My dad was chopping up onions, concentrating on his work, and letting me do the same. But he started talking after a while.
“...Do you want to talk, Shane? As I said, your mother told me about it.”
I sighed, weighing my options. I could get everything off of my chest by telling it to my dad, or I could continue to keep it stored up inside of me. I went with the former.
“Dad, I feel so useless. I kind of feel like a failure now, actually. I don't know what happened to me back there, when I was on the phone with R. But I couldn't even hear anything! I just feel so stupid, I mean, I couldn't even help my best friend. MOM did.” I sighed again, dejectedly. But then my dad made me so thankful of him and his wisdom, when he was done talking, I went over and gave him a semi-awkward man hug.
“You know son, everybody will feel like they're a failure at at least one point in life. Most people have many of those points, though. And trust me, you're not a failure. All of us are prone to shock. And you will still get the opportunity to help your friend. In fact, I think he'll need you now more than ever. So you can't go wallowing about in some depression about something that's not even true. You're still yourself, a fine young man. And I believe you're exactly the right person for R to talk to right now.”
After I stood back up from leaning down to the chair he was sitting in to give him a hug, I told my father,
“You know what, Dad?”
“Hmm? What?”
“You're smart, but you're pretty cool for a dad, too.” He laughed, and finished up chopping the last of the vegetables.
“And what makes you say that?”
I called the reply over my shoulder as I was on my way out to set the table.
“You called him R instead of Rupert!”
Monday, November 30, 2009
Chapter eight
8.
“Great meal, Mr. and Mrs. Baskett.” R cleaned his plate off into the sink and waited in the kitchen for me to do the same.
“Oh, Rupert, you've been friends with Shane long enough to call us by our first names. That means I'm Alan and my wife is Casey,” my dad said with a smile.
“Okay. So am I camping out on the couch or what?”
“No way!” I protested. “You're sleeping in my room, just like any old sleepover. And there won't be anything else different about it, either!” I stuck my own dishes in the sink, and was ready to head upstairs when Mom interjected her opinion.
“Except for the fact that it's a school night. Right, boys?” She asked, very obviously pointing her eyebrows straight at me. I nodded.
“Sure, Mom. We're heading upstairs now. 'Night, thanks for dinner.”
Upstairs in my room R and I had a few laughs, mostly about Hannah Montana and events that had happened at school (not to us, but to other students – and teachers). But then when we had settled down in our pajamas, the mood turned more serious, and somber. I was the first to mention it, but I was hesitant – very hesitant.
“Um, R? ...Do you know what's wrong with your mom yet?”
He answered me right away, but his voice was husky. “No. The doctors were doing tests and stuff when I left. But she was having pains in her chest, I think. Maybe something with her heart.”
“Huh.”
I must have been feeling awful risky that night, because I dared to ask another question.
“Do you think... that... she'll be all right?”
That time there was a pause before his answer, and when I heard him, I was so glad that the lights were turned off, because his voice was riddled with tears.
“I don't know.”
I rolled over on my side, again glad for the darkness. I still heard his muffled cries, though, and felt his shaking since we were sleeping close together on my floor, in sleeping bags.
And I'm sure he heard my tears, also.
The next morning was somewhat awkward, what with the happenings last night and all, but we mostly just ignored it and went to school just like we always did. I could tell that R was nervous about his mom, though, especially since whenever a door opened or shut, he would jump, probably thinking someone was coming in to say there was a telephone call for him. I worried about my friend, and for my friend, and also that I would say something stupid and hurt his feelings, or that I just wouldn't know the right things to say. So when lunchtime came around, I was dreading the fact that we would be able to have an actual conversation, especially when I looked around and found R sitting with Sophia. I was just starting to approach them from across the courtyard when I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. I looked up, into someone's face.
“Hey, wanna grab some lunch with me?” Mike asked.
I stared into his face for a little while before I remembered he was a senior, and had his own car and everything. What could be cooler than going with him, me, a semi-lowly sophomore? But still, I looked over wistfully at R and Sophia. Could I really leave them? When I looked a little closer, I saw R leaning over her, his hand brushing hers, and he left it there. I felt a bubble of anger growing inside me, for whatever reason. Yes, I could leave them to themselves, since they looked oh-so-cozy.
“Sure. Where are we going?”
He smiled. “Not sure. I was thinking Taco Bell. It's my favorite, and I'm feeling like having some Mexican food.”
“Sounds great! My favorite, too, actually.”
Mike led to way to the parking lot where his sleek good-looking car was parked, and I could practically feel the eyes on my back. I knew that tons of people had to be looking at me, watching me get into the car with someone older, someone who had social standing. Someone considered “cool” by all the cliques, or at least almost all of them.
I grinned, but made sure not to turn and look at them. When I was buckled into the passenger's seat, though, I had to glance out the window, and saw bunches of teens- sophomores and freshmen, mostly- watching us drive away. I didn't even look to see if R and Sophia were joining them. I didn't care. But still, as we left the school grounds, a twinge of guilt struck me, straight in the heart.
It hurt, but going to Taco Bell didn't.
The fast-food place was crowded, with adults and small children, but also upperclassmen, seniors, like Mike, and juniors. Not very many sophomores or freshmen. I wasn't very surprised. It felt strange to stand up there in the middle of the crowd and place my order, though, especially since Mike insisted on paying for me. It almost felt like we weren't friends, but he was babysitting me. I shoved that thought far to the back of my mind, so far I could barely see it. It was better that way. I needed to focus most of my attention on not sounding like a dork when I talked, and not looking like a dork, trying to scarf down my tacos. I should have ordered a burrito, I mused afterward, They're so much easier to eat! And then I almost laughed out loud at myself. I was sounding so much like a girl, an especially paranoid one. But I caught myself just in time. Still, Mike gave me a strange look. I just smiled, and he turned his eyes back to the road. The short drive back to school was cut even shorter by Mike's perilously fast speeds, but even so, most of the students were back in their classrooms by the time we were gathering our books at our lockers. Before we parted ways, I had to say something.
“Uh, thanks for lunch. That was cool.”
“Yeah it was. Maybe we can do it sometime again. Well, see you around, Shane.” He headed on his way to one of my classes, and I hurried, so I wouldn't be late to mine. As I walked away, though, that funny feeling like he was my babysitter crossed through my mind again, and I could have sworn he should have rumpled my hair before leaving me. But that was just ridiculous. I mean, he was only two years older than me. Still, for some reason, on that day, two years felt like an eternity.
After school I wasn't quite sure what I should do. Should I seek out R and see if he was coming home with me? If so, I would definitely be late for my session with Mr. Quirk, and then we would have to spend at least half of the time talking about punctuality and stuff like that. Or should I just go straight to my counseling session? Mr. Quirk would be happy with me, but R would be very unhappy with me, and my parents might not be all that glad either. Luckily I didn't have to muddle over it for very long, because R appeared behind me on his own will.
“Shane.” I jumped, whirling around, and then sighing with relief when I saw it was him.
“Oh, I was going to look for you.”
“No matter. So, I got a call from your mom, she said that Bryn went back and needs someone to talk to, but she refuses to talk to my dad.” R gave a sigh, and I could see something in his eyes, something that looked like pain, but I couldn't really tell for sure. “Anyway, your mom is coming to pick me up and take me to the hospital to see my sister. She told me to tell you that she'll wait for you and take you home after your counseling whatever.”
R looked me straight on, then, and I could tell what it was in his eyes.
Sadness. It was sadness, mixed with pain.
I swallowed the lump that was threatening to build up in my throat, and nodded.
“Um, well, good luck, with talking to Bryn, I mean. And I hope your mom is okay.”
He nodded, too, and I also heard him swallow loudly. He turned briskly, and walked as fast as he could out of the building. I wished so badly I could do the same, but instead I had to turn the opposite direction and make my way further into the building. Do I really have to do this, day after day? And when will it end?? I made up my mind, bound and determined to ask the principal those questions. My counseling couldn't go on indefinitely. Or maybe I would ask my dad to call the principal. Yes, that would be easier... I entered the door, familiar to me by then, nodded to the receptionist who's name I had found out to be Miss Germain, and simply walked right into Mr. Quirk's office. He looked up, startled, probably because I was about 10 minutes late.
“Sorry,” I said before he could say anything. He smiled, and waved his hand, motioning for me to sit down.
I was right, we did talk about punctuality. But since I was only 10 minutes late and not 15, we only talked about it for almost half the 60 minutes of alloted time we had. He noticed that something was troubling me and tried to get me to talk about it, but I wouldn't. R's life was not mine. His was not the one underneath a microscope, and I wouldn't embarrass him in front of someone he didn't even know. So I just shook my head firmly each time he asked a question pertaining to R and what was the matter, so eventually he gave up and went on. The hour dragged by as slowly as usual, and I was glad when he looked at his watch, and said, sounding rather defeated (probably because he still hadn't managed to get what he wanted out of me),
“That's all our time for today. Have a nice night.”
“You too,” I replied, and walked out of the room, forcing myself not to hurry until I was past the door. Then I almost ran until I reached the sidewalk and bounded into Mom's waiting Sedan. The look of glee on my face was automatically paled in comparison to the grim one on hers. A shadow immediately passed over my features.
“Great meal, Mr. and Mrs. Baskett.” R cleaned his plate off into the sink and waited in the kitchen for me to do the same.
“Oh, Rupert, you've been friends with Shane long enough to call us by our first names. That means I'm Alan and my wife is Casey,” my dad said with a smile.
“Okay. So am I camping out on the couch or what?”
“No way!” I protested. “You're sleeping in my room, just like any old sleepover. And there won't be anything else different about it, either!” I stuck my own dishes in the sink, and was ready to head upstairs when Mom interjected her opinion.
“Except for the fact that it's a school night. Right, boys?” She asked, very obviously pointing her eyebrows straight at me. I nodded.
“Sure, Mom. We're heading upstairs now. 'Night, thanks for dinner.”
Upstairs in my room R and I had a few laughs, mostly about Hannah Montana and events that had happened at school (not to us, but to other students – and teachers). But then when we had settled down in our pajamas, the mood turned more serious, and somber. I was the first to mention it, but I was hesitant – very hesitant.
“Um, R? ...Do you know what's wrong with your mom yet?”
He answered me right away, but his voice was husky. “No. The doctors were doing tests and stuff when I left. But she was having pains in her chest, I think. Maybe something with her heart.”
“Huh.”
I must have been feeling awful risky that night, because I dared to ask another question.
“Do you think... that... she'll be all right?”
That time there was a pause before his answer, and when I heard him, I was so glad that the lights were turned off, because his voice was riddled with tears.
“I don't know.”
I rolled over on my side, again glad for the darkness. I still heard his muffled cries, though, and felt his shaking since we were sleeping close together on my floor, in sleeping bags.
And I'm sure he heard my tears, also.
The next morning was somewhat awkward, what with the happenings last night and all, but we mostly just ignored it and went to school just like we always did. I could tell that R was nervous about his mom, though, especially since whenever a door opened or shut, he would jump, probably thinking someone was coming in to say there was a telephone call for him. I worried about my friend, and for my friend, and also that I would say something stupid and hurt his feelings, or that I just wouldn't know the right things to say. So when lunchtime came around, I was dreading the fact that we would be able to have an actual conversation, especially when I looked around and found R sitting with Sophia. I was just starting to approach them from across the courtyard when I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. I looked up, into someone's face.
“Hey, wanna grab some lunch with me?” Mike asked.
I stared into his face for a little while before I remembered he was a senior, and had his own car and everything. What could be cooler than going with him, me, a semi-lowly sophomore? But still, I looked over wistfully at R and Sophia. Could I really leave them? When I looked a little closer, I saw R leaning over her, his hand brushing hers, and he left it there. I felt a bubble of anger growing inside me, for whatever reason. Yes, I could leave them to themselves, since they looked oh-so-cozy.
“Sure. Where are we going?”
He smiled. “Not sure. I was thinking Taco Bell. It's my favorite, and I'm feeling like having some Mexican food.”
“Sounds great! My favorite, too, actually.”
Mike led to way to the parking lot where his sleek good-looking car was parked, and I could practically feel the eyes on my back. I knew that tons of people had to be looking at me, watching me get into the car with someone older, someone who had social standing. Someone considered “cool” by all the cliques, or at least almost all of them.
I grinned, but made sure not to turn and look at them. When I was buckled into the passenger's seat, though, I had to glance out the window, and saw bunches of teens- sophomores and freshmen, mostly- watching us drive away. I didn't even look to see if R and Sophia were joining them. I didn't care. But still, as we left the school grounds, a twinge of guilt struck me, straight in the heart.
It hurt, but going to Taco Bell didn't.
The fast-food place was crowded, with adults and small children, but also upperclassmen, seniors, like Mike, and juniors. Not very many sophomores or freshmen. I wasn't very surprised. It felt strange to stand up there in the middle of the crowd and place my order, though, especially since Mike insisted on paying for me. It almost felt like we weren't friends, but he was babysitting me. I shoved that thought far to the back of my mind, so far I could barely see it. It was better that way. I needed to focus most of my attention on not sounding like a dork when I talked, and not looking like a dork, trying to scarf down my tacos. I should have ordered a burrito, I mused afterward, They're so much easier to eat! And then I almost laughed out loud at myself. I was sounding so much like a girl, an especially paranoid one. But I caught myself just in time. Still, Mike gave me a strange look. I just smiled, and he turned his eyes back to the road. The short drive back to school was cut even shorter by Mike's perilously fast speeds, but even so, most of the students were back in their classrooms by the time we were gathering our books at our lockers. Before we parted ways, I had to say something.
“Uh, thanks for lunch. That was cool.”
“Yeah it was. Maybe we can do it sometime again. Well, see you around, Shane.” He headed on his way to one of my classes, and I hurried, so I wouldn't be late to mine. As I walked away, though, that funny feeling like he was my babysitter crossed through my mind again, and I could have sworn he should have rumpled my hair before leaving me. But that was just ridiculous. I mean, he was only two years older than me. Still, for some reason, on that day, two years felt like an eternity.
After school I wasn't quite sure what I should do. Should I seek out R and see if he was coming home with me? If so, I would definitely be late for my session with Mr. Quirk, and then we would have to spend at least half of the time talking about punctuality and stuff like that. Or should I just go straight to my counseling session? Mr. Quirk would be happy with me, but R would be very unhappy with me, and my parents might not be all that glad either. Luckily I didn't have to muddle over it for very long, because R appeared behind me on his own will.
“Shane.” I jumped, whirling around, and then sighing with relief when I saw it was him.
“Oh, I was going to look for you.”
“No matter. So, I got a call from your mom, she said that Bryn went back and needs someone to talk to, but she refuses to talk to my dad.” R gave a sigh, and I could see something in his eyes, something that looked like pain, but I couldn't really tell for sure. “Anyway, your mom is coming to pick me up and take me to the hospital to see my sister. She told me to tell you that she'll wait for you and take you home after your counseling whatever.”
R looked me straight on, then, and I could tell what it was in his eyes.
Sadness. It was sadness, mixed with pain.
I swallowed the lump that was threatening to build up in my throat, and nodded.
“Um, well, good luck, with talking to Bryn, I mean. And I hope your mom is okay.”
He nodded, too, and I also heard him swallow loudly. He turned briskly, and walked as fast as he could out of the building. I wished so badly I could do the same, but instead I had to turn the opposite direction and make my way further into the building. Do I really have to do this, day after day? And when will it end?? I made up my mind, bound and determined to ask the principal those questions. My counseling couldn't go on indefinitely. Or maybe I would ask my dad to call the principal. Yes, that would be easier... I entered the door, familiar to me by then, nodded to the receptionist who's name I had found out to be Miss Germain, and simply walked right into Mr. Quirk's office. He looked up, startled, probably because I was about 10 minutes late.
“Sorry,” I said before he could say anything. He smiled, and waved his hand, motioning for me to sit down.
I was right, we did talk about punctuality. But since I was only 10 minutes late and not 15, we only talked about it for almost half the 60 minutes of alloted time we had. He noticed that something was troubling me and tried to get me to talk about it, but I wouldn't. R's life was not mine. His was not the one underneath a microscope, and I wouldn't embarrass him in front of someone he didn't even know. So I just shook my head firmly each time he asked a question pertaining to R and what was the matter, so eventually he gave up and went on. The hour dragged by as slowly as usual, and I was glad when he looked at his watch, and said, sounding rather defeated (probably because he still hadn't managed to get what he wanted out of me),
“That's all our time for today. Have a nice night.”
“You too,” I replied, and walked out of the room, forcing myself not to hurry until I was past the door. Then I almost ran until I reached the sidewalk and bounded into Mom's waiting Sedan. The look of glee on my face was automatically paled in comparison to the grim one on hers. A shadow immediately passed over my features.
Chapter nine
9.
“What's wrong? Have you heard anything new from R?” I asked.
“Yes, well... yes. But I don't want to talk about it while driving.” She spoke hesitantly, softly, and that made me even more scared than I already was.
If that's how I was feeling, how was R doing?
The whole ride home was silent. Mom had tried turning on the radio once, but it just made our silence sound even bleaker, somehow, so she turned it back off. I had never been more grateful that I lived in walking distance from the high school, only a 5 minute drive. The minute we were inside our house, even before we could leave the front hallway, I turned and faced my mom. I didn't say a word, but she understood me, and led the way into the living room, so we could have a real talk.
She sat on one of the couches I sat on the other one, facing her. My arms were folded, waiting for some explanation. I felt like pacing the floor back and forth, but I just sat there silently, until finally she started telling me what was going on.
“I drove Rupert to the hospital, you know, so he could have a chat with his sister.”
I nodded. “Yes, Bryn. R told me.”
“Right. Well, when we arrived, I went inside with him so I could talk to his father for a little while. The poor man! He looked so, well, distraught. I can't think of any other word to place it. He had circles under his eyes and his hair was wild. Practically looked like he needed to be admitted himself. I felt so sorry for him, Shane. And I know Rupert did too, at least I think so. That boy has enough on his mind right now, though, so he just went right over to his sister and started talking to her, although I couldn't hear what he was saying, and of course I didn't listen, anyway. So I went over to talk to Mr. Field, and he told me that the doctors...” she started choosing her words much more carefully. I could tell. “The doctors had been taking lots of tests on his wife. They had found she has a tumor in her brain. And... she has cancer. Lung cancer, specifically, but they think it's already spreading to other parts of her bodies, which is why she has the brain tumor. It's malignant. I don't think Rupert even knows yet, Shane. Shane?”
I sunk my head into my lap, shaking it back and forth. This isn't happening. It's all a bad dream. Everything, all of it, including Mr. Quirk. But especially R's mom. She can't have cancer. She just can't, it's not possible They've always been so healthy... All of a sudden, a change swept over me, and I sat straight up. What was I doing?
Sitting at home on my couch, cowering? But, why? R was probably all alone at the hospital, without any friends besides his dad, who couldn't have been much comfort, and his sister, who probably needed him to comfort her. So why wasn't I doing anything to try and help him? After all, it was his mom. Not mine. My mom was the one sitting on the couch next to me, an arm over my shoulder (I didn't remember her moving over, but she must have). I stood up, brushing her arm away.
“Where's the phone?”
She smiled, sadly, but it was a genuine smile. “That's my boy. He'll need you.”
Yes, I agreed with her silently, he needs me. He needs a friend, and that's the only thing I can do to help him, is to be his friend.
I picked up the phone, and dialed R's home number, but swiftly hung up. He wouldn't be at home. I tried his cell, and he didn't answer at first, so I kept trying. Finally on my 3rd try, just as I was about to give up, he answered, on the 6th ring, of course.
“Hi, Shane.”
He knew. He knew what I knew, about his mom. He probably found out at the same time I did, because I could hear a hint of shock in his voice, mingled in with the many other emotions he was trying to desperately to hide. He couldn't hide them from me, but he would still try. I knew him.
“R, I... my mom just told me. I thought you might want to talk.”
He said nothing, so I changed the subject, just slightly.
“How's Bryn?”
“Okay. She still hasn't said much, especially after we... heard the news... but I got her to talk with me some. She feels like it's her fault, because she was the only person home with Mom when she had her “episode”, as dad calls it. I tried to tell her that it's not her fault, not anybody's fault...” his voice trailed off.
“It's not her fault. You know it's not your fault either, right?”
“Of course I know that. I'm not stupid. These things happen everyday, to everybody, people all over.”
He was covering up. Bluffing, in a way.
“R, I want to help you.”
“You can't, Shane. This isn't a puzzle you can fix. Not a mystery you can solve. It's plain and simple. My mom has cancer-” his voice broke and I could barely stand all the emotion in that one conversation. “-And she's dying. You can't do anything about it. Goodbye, Shane.”
He hung up, and the phone hung limply in my hand. Mom entered the kitchen where I had been talking, and gave me a hug. She might have been listening in on the other handset, but even if she wasn't, I'm sure she knew I needed support, just from the look on my face. I sent up a silent thanks for moms, and then collapsed against the counter.
“What's wrong? Have you heard anything new from R?” I asked.
“Yes, well... yes. But I don't want to talk about it while driving.” She spoke hesitantly, softly, and that made me even more scared than I already was.
If that's how I was feeling, how was R doing?
The whole ride home was silent. Mom had tried turning on the radio once, but it just made our silence sound even bleaker, somehow, so she turned it back off. I had never been more grateful that I lived in walking distance from the high school, only a 5 minute drive. The minute we were inside our house, even before we could leave the front hallway, I turned and faced my mom. I didn't say a word, but she understood me, and led the way into the living room, so we could have a real talk.
She sat on one of the couches I sat on the other one, facing her. My arms were folded, waiting for some explanation. I felt like pacing the floor back and forth, but I just sat there silently, until finally she started telling me what was going on.
“I drove Rupert to the hospital, you know, so he could have a chat with his sister.”
I nodded. “Yes, Bryn. R told me.”
“Right. Well, when we arrived, I went inside with him so I could talk to his father for a little while. The poor man! He looked so, well, distraught. I can't think of any other word to place it. He had circles under his eyes and his hair was wild. Practically looked like he needed to be admitted himself. I felt so sorry for him, Shane. And I know Rupert did too, at least I think so. That boy has enough on his mind right now, though, so he just went right over to his sister and started talking to her, although I couldn't hear what he was saying, and of course I didn't listen, anyway. So I went over to talk to Mr. Field, and he told me that the doctors...” she started choosing her words much more carefully. I could tell. “The doctors had been taking lots of tests on his wife. They had found she has a tumor in her brain. And... she has cancer. Lung cancer, specifically, but they think it's already spreading to other parts of her bodies, which is why she has the brain tumor. It's malignant. I don't think Rupert even knows yet, Shane. Shane?”
I sunk my head into my lap, shaking it back and forth. This isn't happening. It's all a bad dream. Everything, all of it, including Mr. Quirk. But especially R's mom. She can't have cancer. She just can't, it's not possible They've always been so healthy... All of a sudden, a change swept over me, and I sat straight up. What was I doing?
Sitting at home on my couch, cowering? But, why? R was probably all alone at the hospital, without any friends besides his dad, who couldn't have been much comfort, and his sister, who probably needed him to comfort her. So why wasn't I doing anything to try and help him? After all, it was his mom. Not mine. My mom was the one sitting on the couch next to me, an arm over my shoulder (I didn't remember her moving over, but she must have). I stood up, brushing her arm away.
“Where's the phone?”
She smiled, sadly, but it was a genuine smile. “That's my boy. He'll need you.”
Yes, I agreed with her silently, he needs me. He needs a friend, and that's the only thing I can do to help him, is to be his friend.
I picked up the phone, and dialed R's home number, but swiftly hung up. He wouldn't be at home. I tried his cell, and he didn't answer at first, so I kept trying. Finally on my 3rd try, just as I was about to give up, he answered, on the 6th ring, of course.
“Hi, Shane.”
He knew. He knew what I knew, about his mom. He probably found out at the same time I did, because I could hear a hint of shock in his voice, mingled in with the many other emotions he was trying to desperately to hide. He couldn't hide them from me, but he would still try. I knew him.
“R, I... my mom just told me. I thought you might want to talk.”
He said nothing, so I changed the subject, just slightly.
“How's Bryn?”
“Okay. She still hasn't said much, especially after we... heard the news... but I got her to talk with me some. She feels like it's her fault, because she was the only person home with Mom when she had her “episode”, as dad calls it. I tried to tell her that it's not her fault, not anybody's fault...” his voice trailed off.
“It's not her fault. You know it's not your fault either, right?”
“Of course I know that. I'm not stupid. These things happen everyday, to everybody, people all over.”
He was covering up. Bluffing, in a way.
“R, I want to help you.”
“You can't, Shane. This isn't a puzzle you can fix. Not a mystery you can solve. It's plain and simple. My mom has cancer-” his voice broke and I could barely stand all the emotion in that one conversation. “-And she's dying. You can't do anything about it. Goodbye, Shane.”
He hung up, and the phone hung limply in my hand. Mom entered the kitchen where I had been talking, and gave me a hug. She might have been listening in on the other handset, but even if she wasn't, I'm sure she knew I needed support, just from the look on my face. I sent up a silent thanks for moms, and then collapsed against the counter.
Chapter ten
10.
The sunlight was streaming through my bedroom window as I woke up, surprised, because I didn't remember entering my room last night, or falling asleep, or even dreaming about anything. I felt like I was in the wrong place, somehow, because the last memory I could think of, I was standing in the kitchen, talking to my mom. Or maybe we weren't talking, just standing.
Then it all came crashing down on me, like one of those old torture devices that was rigged so a heavy weight or something of the sort was held from falling on the victim by a single rope, and a candle was placed underneath that rope, so all you could do was wait and watch it burn and char away until the rope was completely gone and you were dead, flat as a pancake.
Or maybe it just came crashing down on me, but not like that. Either way, I suddenly remembered everything that had happened last night, with R and his mom, and my parents, and my counselor and all of that stuff. I immediately crawled back into my bed, under the covers, and hid my head, even though there was nobody around to see me. I just didn't know how I could possibly go to school today. R probably wouldn't even be there, and people might ask me where he was. R did have a lot of friends, after all, and I wasn't really friends with any of them (besides Sophia, but I didn't even know if she counted as a real friend yet), but they knew that R and I were best buds, so they might go out of their way to talk to me. I didn't want that. I didn't want to have to break the news to people, especially ones that I didn't know very well. Sophia already knew that something was up, but she probably didn't know it was cancer. I heard a knock on my door, and presumed it was my mother, coming to wake me up. Any minute she would start pounding, bellowing, “Shane! It's time to get up, you're going to be late for school!”
But it wasn't my mom, because whoever it was didn't even bother to knock again, but barged straight into my room and flung my comforter off of my cowering body. I was insanely curious by then, so I looked up to see who was being so mean to me.
And (with my luck, of course) it was Sophia Markson. She stood there glaring at me, hands on her hips and her usually loose lips clenched into a tight line. I looked down at her feet, expecting one of them to be tapping up and down, but they were both firmly planted on my gray carpet.
At that moment, I was very thankful that while I was getting dressed for bed last night (even though I didn't remember doing so) that I had chosen to wear sweat pants and an old t-shirt for pajamas, instead of just boxers like I wore sometimes. Still, I was appalled at Sophia's presence in my room. We certainly weren't that good friends yet.
“What the heck are you doing? Get out!” I yelled at her, but she stayed where she was, as if she was a tree with her roots firmly implanted in my soil.
“Shane, what the heck do you think you're doing? Lying here in bed when you should be getting ready for school! I know how you feel, R is my friend too, remember. And he needs our help. You really think you're helping him by lying here like some coward, sissy-”
“I'm not a sissy.” I wasn't going to add that I did think I was a coward. No, I would never let her know that. “Besides, why do you even care so much about R? Last time I checked, you two weren't B-F-F's. Or is it something... different?”
She blushed furiously, and I rolled my eyes at her for being such a girl.
“Like I said, R and I are... friends. We're friends, just like you and him are friends. Now get out of bed, get dressed, and you'd better hurry if you want some breakfast. We're walking.”
She stomped out of my bedroom, thankfully giving me privacy to change my clothes – and think. I was more confused than ever, plus the feeling of spiraling depression I was starting to get. Depression + a bossy, confusing Sophia Markson = not good.
But, before I could take too much time brooding around and being simply stupid, I decided I would do what she told me – get dressed and ready for school. I didn't have any homework assignments due, so I just pulled on a clean pair of jeans, my Relient K t-shirt, and a black hoodie. I grabbed a pair of socks to put on underneath my back Converse, and ran a comb through my light brown/almost blond hair once or twice. That's good enough, I decided, and ran downstairs to eat breakfast. I was famished. I found Mom and Sophia sitting around the table, discussing something. Their faces were both very serious, and I wondered what they could possibly be talking about.
“Mom?”
She looked up quickly, like she was just then realized my presence in the room. Sophia did the same. I just raised my eyebrows at them and hurried to make myself a bagel with strawberry cream cheese. I gulped down a cup of apple juice with it, grabbed my ready backpack, and pulled on my shoes, tying them as quickly as I could. Sophia was ready, also, so I said goodbye to my mom, and we left the house, heading towards school. Finally, I couldn't help myself any longer. I started asking questions.
“So what were you doing in my room, anyway? And why were you seeming so pally-pally with my mom?”
“Well, it's kind of hard to explain. But to make a long story short, your mom called me and told me how you were acting, and I just couldn't stand it. So, since we're friends, I decided to simply do something about it. And I know that doesn't explain much, but I don't feel like explaining much right now.”
“Okay, I guess that makes sense. Somewhat. At least I know a little bit more now. I'm so sick and tired of being confused all the time.”
I didn't mention that these days I was usually only being confused about things involving her. That might sound mean. But I was a little bit comforted that she had called us friends. I mean, I knew that we had told each other we were friends, but I didn't really know how to do anything to progress beyond that. I tried to remember back to kindergarten when we had become friends. All I could think of was the day that we had been put at the same art table, and he had offered to share his crayons with me, since I was missing a few colors. And that's basically how it started. Too bad things aren't as simple as in kindergarten, I thought wistfully. I really had no idea how to proceed with Sophia, especially since I had never really had a girl as a friend, before. But then I thought of a question I had been wondering about for quite a while, actually. But I also remembered she had just said she didn't feel like explaining. So I decided I would save it for lunch period, and seek her out even if she didn't sit with me first. Right. My mind was made up.
It turned out that R was at school, after all. He had dark circles underneath his eyes, and his clothes were a little messy. I could tell that he hadn't taken the time to comb his hair, like I had. His messiness combined with the threatening looks he would shoot at you if anyone dared to stare at him almost made him seem menacing. For those who didn't know him well, that is. He was my best friend, and I knew he couldn't really be menacing, so it just made him seem sad. Sad and hurting. I didn't dare talk to him until I caught up to walk with him to our Social Studies class, though.
“R!” I panted, jogging to catch up with his swifter-than-usual pace. He at least looked at me, and while it wasn't exactly happy, it wasn't angry.
“Shane.”
“I wasn't expecting you to be here today. How are you doing?”
He snorted. Yes, he really snorted.
“As good as I can be. Do you really think that you can help me, Shane?”
I was terrified that I would say something wrong. I was actually shaking a little bit. But somehow I thought of something to say that I thought might do some good.
“No... not in the way that you think I'm trying to help you, at least. I can't make your mom better. I can't take your sadness or hurt away, no matter how much I'd like to, it's just not possible. But I can listen. I can be your friend, just like I've always been. Because I don't really know how to do anything else.”
A flicker of a smile might have crossed his face right then.
“Well, okay, I guess.”
Unfortunately, right after we had passed that barrier between us, we arrived at our classroom.
“School time,” he said, and I nodded reluctantly. But we entered the school room.
We talked about who had been elected for class president (a guy named Clay Pastra who I didn't know was even running) and elections and that junk. It made me slightly happy that I had gotten elected for counseling instead of president. But just slightly.
The sunlight was streaming through my bedroom window as I woke up, surprised, because I didn't remember entering my room last night, or falling asleep, or even dreaming about anything. I felt like I was in the wrong place, somehow, because the last memory I could think of, I was standing in the kitchen, talking to my mom. Or maybe we weren't talking, just standing.
Then it all came crashing down on me, like one of those old torture devices that was rigged so a heavy weight or something of the sort was held from falling on the victim by a single rope, and a candle was placed underneath that rope, so all you could do was wait and watch it burn and char away until the rope was completely gone and you were dead, flat as a pancake.
Or maybe it just came crashing down on me, but not like that. Either way, I suddenly remembered everything that had happened last night, with R and his mom, and my parents, and my counselor and all of that stuff. I immediately crawled back into my bed, under the covers, and hid my head, even though there was nobody around to see me. I just didn't know how I could possibly go to school today. R probably wouldn't even be there, and people might ask me where he was. R did have a lot of friends, after all, and I wasn't really friends with any of them (besides Sophia, but I didn't even know if she counted as a real friend yet), but they knew that R and I were best buds, so they might go out of their way to talk to me. I didn't want that. I didn't want to have to break the news to people, especially ones that I didn't know very well. Sophia already knew that something was up, but she probably didn't know it was cancer. I heard a knock on my door, and presumed it was my mother, coming to wake me up. Any minute she would start pounding, bellowing, “Shane! It's time to get up, you're going to be late for school!”
But it wasn't my mom, because whoever it was didn't even bother to knock again, but barged straight into my room and flung my comforter off of my cowering body. I was insanely curious by then, so I looked up to see who was being so mean to me.
And (with my luck, of course) it was Sophia Markson. She stood there glaring at me, hands on her hips and her usually loose lips clenched into a tight line. I looked down at her feet, expecting one of them to be tapping up and down, but they were both firmly planted on my gray carpet.
At that moment, I was very thankful that while I was getting dressed for bed last night (even though I didn't remember doing so) that I had chosen to wear sweat pants and an old t-shirt for pajamas, instead of just boxers like I wore sometimes. Still, I was appalled at Sophia's presence in my room. We certainly weren't that good friends yet.
“What the heck are you doing? Get out!” I yelled at her, but she stayed where she was, as if she was a tree with her roots firmly implanted in my soil.
“Shane, what the heck do you think you're doing? Lying here in bed when you should be getting ready for school! I know how you feel, R is my friend too, remember. And he needs our help. You really think you're helping him by lying here like some coward, sissy-”
“I'm not a sissy.” I wasn't going to add that I did think I was a coward. No, I would never let her know that. “Besides, why do you even care so much about R? Last time I checked, you two weren't B-F-F's. Or is it something... different?”
She blushed furiously, and I rolled my eyes at her for being such a girl.
“Like I said, R and I are... friends. We're friends, just like you and him are friends. Now get out of bed, get dressed, and you'd better hurry if you want some breakfast. We're walking.”
She stomped out of my bedroom, thankfully giving me privacy to change my clothes – and think. I was more confused than ever, plus the feeling of spiraling depression I was starting to get. Depression + a bossy, confusing Sophia Markson = not good.
But, before I could take too much time brooding around and being simply stupid, I decided I would do what she told me – get dressed and ready for school. I didn't have any homework assignments due, so I just pulled on a clean pair of jeans, my Relient K t-shirt, and a black hoodie. I grabbed a pair of socks to put on underneath my back Converse, and ran a comb through my light brown/almost blond hair once or twice. That's good enough, I decided, and ran downstairs to eat breakfast. I was famished. I found Mom and Sophia sitting around the table, discussing something. Their faces were both very serious, and I wondered what they could possibly be talking about.
“Mom?”
She looked up quickly, like she was just then realized my presence in the room. Sophia did the same. I just raised my eyebrows at them and hurried to make myself a bagel with strawberry cream cheese. I gulped down a cup of apple juice with it, grabbed my ready backpack, and pulled on my shoes, tying them as quickly as I could. Sophia was ready, also, so I said goodbye to my mom, and we left the house, heading towards school. Finally, I couldn't help myself any longer. I started asking questions.
“So what were you doing in my room, anyway? And why were you seeming so pally-pally with my mom?”
“Well, it's kind of hard to explain. But to make a long story short, your mom called me and told me how you were acting, and I just couldn't stand it. So, since we're friends, I decided to simply do something about it. And I know that doesn't explain much, but I don't feel like explaining much right now.”
“Okay, I guess that makes sense. Somewhat. At least I know a little bit more now. I'm so sick and tired of being confused all the time.”
I didn't mention that these days I was usually only being confused about things involving her. That might sound mean. But I was a little bit comforted that she had called us friends. I mean, I knew that we had told each other we were friends, but I didn't really know how to do anything to progress beyond that. I tried to remember back to kindergarten when we had become friends. All I could think of was the day that we had been put at the same art table, and he had offered to share his crayons with me, since I was missing a few colors. And that's basically how it started. Too bad things aren't as simple as in kindergarten, I thought wistfully. I really had no idea how to proceed with Sophia, especially since I had never really had a girl as a friend, before. But then I thought of a question I had been wondering about for quite a while, actually. But I also remembered she had just said she didn't feel like explaining. So I decided I would save it for lunch period, and seek her out even if she didn't sit with me first. Right. My mind was made up.
It turned out that R was at school, after all. He had dark circles underneath his eyes, and his clothes were a little messy. I could tell that he hadn't taken the time to comb his hair, like I had. His messiness combined with the threatening looks he would shoot at you if anyone dared to stare at him almost made him seem menacing. For those who didn't know him well, that is. He was my best friend, and I knew he couldn't really be menacing, so it just made him seem sad. Sad and hurting. I didn't dare talk to him until I caught up to walk with him to our Social Studies class, though.
“R!” I panted, jogging to catch up with his swifter-than-usual pace. He at least looked at me, and while it wasn't exactly happy, it wasn't angry.
“Shane.”
“I wasn't expecting you to be here today. How are you doing?”
He snorted. Yes, he really snorted.
“As good as I can be. Do you really think that you can help me, Shane?”
I was terrified that I would say something wrong. I was actually shaking a little bit. But somehow I thought of something to say that I thought might do some good.
“No... not in the way that you think I'm trying to help you, at least. I can't make your mom better. I can't take your sadness or hurt away, no matter how much I'd like to, it's just not possible. But I can listen. I can be your friend, just like I've always been. Because I don't really know how to do anything else.”
A flicker of a smile might have crossed his face right then.
“Well, okay, I guess.”
Unfortunately, right after we had passed that barrier between us, we arrived at our classroom.
“School time,” he said, and I nodded reluctantly. But we entered the school room.
We talked about who had been elected for class president (a guy named Clay Pastra who I didn't know was even running) and elections and that junk. It made me slightly happy that I had gotten elected for counseling instead of president. But just slightly.
Chapter eleven
11.
Lunch time rolled around eventually, and I searched the cafeteria, looking for Sophia and R. I assumed they would be together, but since I saw neither of them, I guessed maybe they had brought bad lunches and taken them outside to eat. I was just stepping out the main door when I heard a shout behind me.
“Shane! Wait up!”
Instead of turning around to see who it was, I simply waited. I would just tell them that I wasn't available, and then search around some more to try and find my two friends, Shane and Sophia.
When they caught up with me, I looked to see who it was. It was James, so I gave him as friendly a smile as I could muster, and was about to explain to him that I couldn't talk, but he spoke up before I could.
“Look, I need to talk to you. And it's kind of important. ...And kind of private.”
I looked around. Not many people were roaming the hallways, but still there was the chance that somebody might overhear us. I weighed my options, and decided that if James needed to talk to me about something important, than I would listen. Besides, R had Sophia, right? So I nodded my head quickly.
“All right, fine, but where can we go? And can you please make it quick, because I'm hungry!” People should stop needing to talk so badly at lunchtime, I thought. James chuckled a little, but then he stopped, like he was thinking.
“Come with me.”
He started walking pretty fast away from the doorway, and I hurried to keep up. His legs were much longer than mine, and I was in a little worse shape then him, what with me not being on the track team that year. But I kept up well enough. He led me down one hallway, and then another, making lots of turns and going very fast until I wasn't really sure where we were. Then he opened up a door and ducked inside. At first I was wary, but I didn't want to be stuck standing in the hall all by myself, so I followed suit.
We were in a class room, a pretty small one, but the light was turned off so I couldn't exactly tell what room it was. It didn't seem familiar at all, though.
“What room is this?” I asked.
“Arts and crafts,” he grinned. My eyes were eventually adjusting to the dark room, so I could make out a few figures that looked like they might be easels.
“Interesting. But why are we in here? Won't someone find us?”
“Nope, art class isn't until 7th period.” He was still grinning, I could tell. He found something about all this immensely amusing, and I wasn't sure what. But then James grabbed my arm and was dragging me further into the dark classroom, to a dark spot I couldn't see around in.
“What are you doing?”
All of a sudden I had the feeling of terror, like James had brought me in there to beat me up or rob me (not that I had any money on me or anything...) or something else of an unfriendly sort. Because, a dark room is perfect for preforming a dark deed, right? I started resisting his pull, but he kept dragging me on, and then, he opened another door and shoved me into it. Was he just going to lock me in here, to humiliate me? Because, when I actually thought about it, that would probably be worse than beating me up. Embarrassing me in front of a bunch of people. But then he shut himself inside the closet, too, and the next thing I knew he had flipped a switch and I had to blink my eyes as light flooded the small space. I was about to ask him what he was doing, when he answered my question for me.
“Now we can be sure that no one will hear us.”
I sighed, relieved, but also exasperated.
“Couldn't we just have gone into the bathroom or something?” He laughed, but then his mood turned serious, and I could tell he was ready to talk.
“Shane, I want you to keep an open mind while I tell you this, okay?”
“Yeah, okay, now can you hurry this up?”
His face turned a shade darker, his expression a bit more serious, and even a bit sad.
“I know you're best friends with that R guy, right?”
“Yes... but what does that have to do with anything?”
“And he just found out that his mom has cancer.”
I couldn't quite tell if he was stating a fact, or asking a question.
“Yes. Gosh, I'm so confused.”
“Sorry about that. I just don't really know what the best way to say this is. Can I have a minute to think?”
“Um, sure?”
I watched James as he paced back and forth in our confined space. The closet was quite small, he could only take about three steps before turning and pacing the other direction. The walls were made up of shelves, filled with art materials of all kinds, anything you could ever want. I felt like humming the Jeopardy theme song, but of course I didn't. I was so confused. I knew that James wanted to talk to me about R, and something that also had to do with his mom. But why would James want to talk about that? I hadn't even known that James knew R. But he seemed to. He also knew we were best friends, which surprised me a bit, too, even though it wasn't a secret, I didn't know it was public knowledge. Because that would also make me public knowledge, and truthfully that thought scared me out of my wits. But, I consoled myself, it's probably just because James is my friend. So he knows about me. Duh. But even that thought didn't comfort me completely.
James was still pacing back and forth, and I wondered what he could possibly be thinking about so intently. It was like he didn't even know I was there anymore. But I took that opportunity to watch him. He was my friend and everything, but I really didn't know all that much about him, and I had learned from experience that you can learn a lot about a person just by watching him. But normally, if you're caught staring at someone, it seems pretty weird, of course. So I usually don't go around just staring at everybody, trying to figure out what they're like. But I figured that James was too far lost in his own thoughts to even notice me, and if he did, maybe he'd snap out of it and actually tell me what was going on. After all, lunch hour doesn't last forever, and I didn't really want to be late for my class, and have to walk in through the middle of the room with about a million sets of eyes focused on me.
Well, it wouldn't be a million, of course, but it would seem like it to me.
I watched James' expression, but it was mostly blank. His mouth was set firmly, but when I looked at it for a bit longer, I noticed his lips were actually twitching a little. Just very slightly, though. Almost as if they couldn't decide what shape they wanted to make, what emotion to express. Happiness, or sadness, or just something neutral. The rest of his face seemed set, too, like stone. Like they wouldn't change unless the lips did first. But when I looked at his eyes, that was when I was the most surprised.
He had the type of eyes that girls are always either falling in love with or wishing they had themselves. Something about them was just deep, like a bottomless pool of emotion, showing right into his very soul. I felt really stupid right after I thought that thought, but it was true. But, in my true nature, I started getting embarrassed that I was staring at his face so much, so instead I stared down at my feet. I was still wearing my favorite pair of black Converse, and I remembered back to that morning when I had put them on. I was still just as confused as I had been then, only in a different way. Isn't life EVER clear? I wondered. My mind started drifting, and I found myself thinking back to the day that I had first met James...
It was my freshman year of high school, and I was even more nervous than I was in my sophomore year. At our first track practice, I was practically shaking the whole time, especially since R wasn't there to help calm me down. But I tried my best not to let it show, to just act cool. And I thought I was doing a pretty good job. Our coach, Coach Cliff, as we affectionately called him, had just decided us up into groups for different categories, like long jump, high jump, 50-meter dash, and so on. I was in the 100-meter run group, since that was my specialty. There were about four guys in that group, and one girl. Then we were all instructed to introduce ourselves to each other, since we would be getting to know each other pretty well in the next year, as Coach Cliff said. I continued trying to hide my nervous state as I watched the other girls and boys introduce themselves to people. But I guess I wasn't, because soon enough, a voice from behind made me jump. There was a laugh.
“Wow, nice one. Maybe you should try out for the high jump instead of this run!”
I turned slowly, to see who I was talking to. One of my teammates. He had brown hair, darker than mine, more like a chestnut brown. A kind face, and striking deep blue eyes.
“Um, what?” My voice squeaked when I talked.
“Ha ha! Just kidding. I'm James, and you must be Nervous.”
“Uh, actually my name's Shane. And I'll admit I am nervous, since you seem to have noticed that already.”
He laughed again, shook my hand once and smiled, and then walked off to join a big blond-haired boy. I was glad at first, but then I realized that they were both walking towards me.
“Hey Shane, meet my friend Kyle. We'll all be in this boat together this year, so we'd better get to know each other, right? Just like coach says, huh?” They both laughed, and I forced myself to join them, even though I didn't find anything particularly funny. Then they both invited me to come over and meet the other three team members that would be doing the 100-meter, so I said yes. I couldn't really say no, could I? I went over and was introduced to Jeff, Dave, and Joyce. We hung around in a little circle for a while, before Coach Cliff paid some attention to us and gave us warm-ups to do. And that was the first time I had met James.
For the first time in a while, I wondered why James had sought me out and befriended me. Because he was a pretty cool guy, who could be very popular if he wanted to be. I mean, he already had plenty of friends, but I'm talking about the kind of popular that's always stereotyped, but always exists, of course. But he didn't. He picked me to be his friend. It was strange, mind-boggling to an extent. But I was glad that he wanted to be my friend. Or at least, I thought so. But none of my thoughts were really going straight at that time. Especially ones about James, and R, and Sophia, and R's mom, and, well, just everything. Everything on my roller coaster was going 500 miles an hour, I decided. And it was unnerving.
All of a sudden, James stopped pacing. He jolted me back to my sense with a loud voice.
“Gosh, what is wrong with me?”
“James, what are you talking about? Seriously, can we just go eat lunch, please? I'm starved. Besides, what do you even want to tell me? It can't be that important, can it?”
He looked conflicted, torn between two different things. “I'm not sure. I don't want to spread a stupid rumor or make you worry or anything.”
I was still confused, but now I was also worried. If he didn't want to make me worry, then why were we standing cramped together in a small closet during lunch hour? But the thing that worried me the most was that I was pretty sure whatever he had to tell me was about R. I became almost frantic.
“You have to tell me. Please. If it's about R, I should know. Besides, you've already worried me, a lot!”
“Okay, fine. But take this all in stride, okay? Because I don't actually know if it's for sure true. But, anyway... Kyle told me that he heard your friend R and somebody else talking in the guy's bathroom. Now, I don't know what exactly they said, but R was saying something about he didn't even care about living anymore, and then the other guy, whoever it was, I don't know, anyway, the other guy offered him 'a release from it all'. And Kyle didn't hear R's response, if he did respond. So, I don't know what any of this might mean, but I think you need to watch out for R, Shane. He might be getting mixed up in some serious stuff.”
“Hah!” A burst of air escaped my lips before I could stop it, or even try to stop it. “Sorry. But come on, James, you really think R is contemplating suicide? Or drugs?”
“I didn't say that. It might not even be drugs, but it could be. I'm just saying, I think he might be getting into some trouble, and you should watch out. Who knows, maybe you could help him. And I wasn't even there, so Kyle might have been mistaken. I just thought you should know, okay?”
“Fine. Whatever. But you're wrong, I know you are. He wouldn't get into anything like that, ever. I know him.”
“Okay, if you're so sure... let's just get out of here, huh? I'm pretty hungry, too.”
“Gladly.”
We exited the closet, and the room, and I would gladly have escaped from James then if I hadn't needed to follow him to find the way back to where we had met. I followed him that far, and we parted ways. He still looked very worried, especially after I had brushed him off so quickly.
Why does he freaking care so much about R? He's MY best friend, after all. James barely knows him. I'm the one who knows R really well. And I know he wouldn't any junk like, well, anything! …I think...
I started actually thinking about what James had said. He wouldn't lie to me, would he? And Kyle wouldn't lie to James. So maybe James had a point. But he had also said that Kyle hadn't heard R's response. R could have said no. I spotted him sitting outside on a bench, with Sophia, of course. I gulped, and took a big breath of fresh air before hurrying my way over there.
Lunch time rolled around eventually, and I searched the cafeteria, looking for Sophia and R. I assumed they would be together, but since I saw neither of them, I guessed maybe they had brought bad lunches and taken them outside to eat. I was just stepping out the main door when I heard a shout behind me.
“Shane! Wait up!”
Instead of turning around to see who it was, I simply waited. I would just tell them that I wasn't available, and then search around some more to try and find my two friends, Shane and Sophia.
When they caught up with me, I looked to see who it was. It was James, so I gave him as friendly a smile as I could muster, and was about to explain to him that I couldn't talk, but he spoke up before I could.
“Look, I need to talk to you. And it's kind of important. ...And kind of private.”
I looked around. Not many people were roaming the hallways, but still there was the chance that somebody might overhear us. I weighed my options, and decided that if James needed to talk to me about something important, than I would listen. Besides, R had Sophia, right? So I nodded my head quickly.
“All right, fine, but where can we go? And can you please make it quick, because I'm hungry!” People should stop needing to talk so badly at lunchtime, I thought. James chuckled a little, but then he stopped, like he was thinking.
“Come with me.”
He started walking pretty fast away from the doorway, and I hurried to keep up. His legs were much longer than mine, and I was in a little worse shape then him, what with me not being on the track team that year. But I kept up well enough. He led me down one hallway, and then another, making lots of turns and going very fast until I wasn't really sure where we were. Then he opened up a door and ducked inside. At first I was wary, but I didn't want to be stuck standing in the hall all by myself, so I followed suit.
We were in a class room, a pretty small one, but the light was turned off so I couldn't exactly tell what room it was. It didn't seem familiar at all, though.
“What room is this?” I asked.
“Arts and crafts,” he grinned. My eyes were eventually adjusting to the dark room, so I could make out a few figures that looked like they might be easels.
“Interesting. But why are we in here? Won't someone find us?”
“Nope, art class isn't until 7th period.” He was still grinning, I could tell. He found something about all this immensely amusing, and I wasn't sure what. But then James grabbed my arm and was dragging me further into the dark classroom, to a dark spot I couldn't see around in.
“What are you doing?”
All of a sudden I had the feeling of terror, like James had brought me in there to beat me up or rob me (not that I had any money on me or anything...) or something else of an unfriendly sort. Because, a dark room is perfect for preforming a dark deed, right? I started resisting his pull, but he kept dragging me on, and then, he opened another door and shoved me into it. Was he just going to lock me in here, to humiliate me? Because, when I actually thought about it, that would probably be worse than beating me up. Embarrassing me in front of a bunch of people. But then he shut himself inside the closet, too, and the next thing I knew he had flipped a switch and I had to blink my eyes as light flooded the small space. I was about to ask him what he was doing, when he answered my question for me.
“Now we can be sure that no one will hear us.”
I sighed, relieved, but also exasperated.
“Couldn't we just have gone into the bathroom or something?” He laughed, but then his mood turned serious, and I could tell he was ready to talk.
“Shane, I want you to keep an open mind while I tell you this, okay?”
“Yeah, okay, now can you hurry this up?”
His face turned a shade darker, his expression a bit more serious, and even a bit sad.
“I know you're best friends with that R guy, right?”
“Yes... but what does that have to do with anything?”
“And he just found out that his mom has cancer.”
I couldn't quite tell if he was stating a fact, or asking a question.
“Yes. Gosh, I'm so confused.”
“Sorry about that. I just don't really know what the best way to say this is. Can I have a minute to think?”
“Um, sure?”
I watched James as he paced back and forth in our confined space. The closet was quite small, he could only take about three steps before turning and pacing the other direction. The walls were made up of shelves, filled with art materials of all kinds, anything you could ever want. I felt like humming the Jeopardy theme song, but of course I didn't. I was so confused. I knew that James wanted to talk to me about R, and something that also had to do with his mom. But why would James want to talk about that? I hadn't even known that James knew R. But he seemed to. He also knew we were best friends, which surprised me a bit, too, even though it wasn't a secret, I didn't know it was public knowledge. Because that would also make me public knowledge, and truthfully that thought scared me out of my wits. But, I consoled myself, it's probably just because James is my friend. So he knows about me. Duh. But even that thought didn't comfort me completely.
James was still pacing back and forth, and I wondered what he could possibly be thinking about so intently. It was like he didn't even know I was there anymore. But I took that opportunity to watch him. He was my friend and everything, but I really didn't know all that much about him, and I had learned from experience that you can learn a lot about a person just by watching him. But normally, if you're caught staring at someone, it seems pretty weird, of course. So I usually don't go around just staring at everybody, trying to figure out what they're like. But I figured that James was too far lost in his own thoughts to even notice me, and if he did, maybe he'd snap out of it and actually tell me what was going on. After all, lunch hour doesn't last forever, and I didn't really want to be late for my class, and have to walk in through the middle of the room with about a million sets of eyes focused on me.
Well, it wouldn't be a million, of course, but it would seem like it to me.
I watched James' expression, but it was mostly blank. His mouth was set firmly, but when I looked at it for a bit longer, I noticed his lips were actually twitching a little. Just very slightly, though. Almost as if they couldn't decide what shape they wanted to make, what emotion to express. Happiness, or sadness, or just something neutral. The rest of his face seemed set, too, like stone. Like they wouldn't change unless the lips did first. But when I looked at his eyes, that was when I was the most surprised.
He had the type of eyes that girls are always either falling in love with or wishing they had themselves. Something about them was just deep, like a bottomless pool of emotion, showing right into his very soul. I felt really stupid right after I thought that thought, but it was true. But, in my true nature, I started getting embarrassed that I was staring at his face so much, so instead I stared down at my feet. I was still wearing my favorite pair of black Converse, and I remembered back to that morning when I had put them on. I was still just as confused as I had been then, only in a different way. Isn't life EVER clear? I wondered. My mind started drifting, and I found myself thinking back to the day that I had first met James...
It was my freshman year of high school, and I was even more nervous than I was in my sophomore year. At our first track practice, I was practically shaking the whole time, especially since R wasn't there to help calm me down. But I tried my best not to let it show, to just act cool. And I thought I was doing a pretty good job. Our coach, Coach Cliff, as we affectionately called him, had just decided us up into groups for different categories, like long jump, high jump, 50-meter dash, and so on. I was in the 100-meter run group, since that was my specialty. There were about four guys in that group, and one girl. Then we were all instructed to introduce ourselves to each other, since we would be getting to know each other pretty well in the next year, as Coach Cliff said. I continued trying to hide my nervous state as I watched the other girls and boys introduce themselves to people. But I guess I wasn't, because soon enough, a voice from behind made me jump. There was a laugh.
“Wow, nice one. Maybe you should try out for the high jump instead of this run!”
I turned slowly, to see who I was talking to. One of my teammates. He had brown hair, darker than mine, more like a chestnut brown. A kind face, and striking deep blue eyes.
“Um, what?” My voice squeaked when I talked.
“Ha ha! Just kidding. I'm James, and you must be Nervous.”
“Uh, actually my name's Shane. And I'll admit I am nervous, since you seem to have noticed that already.”
He laughed again, shook my hand once and smiled, and then walked off to join a big blond-haired boy. I was glad at first, but then I realized that they were both walking towards me.
“Hey Shane, meet my friend Kyle. We'll all be in this boat together this year, so we'd better get to know each other, right? Just like coach says, huh?” They both laughed, and I forced myself to join them, even though I didn't find anything particularly funny. Then they both invited me to come over and meet the other three team members that would be doing the 100-meter, so I said yes. I couldn't really say no, could I? I went over and was introduced to Jeff, Dave, and Joyce. We hung around in a little circle for a while, before Coach Cliff paid some attention to us and gave us warm-ups to do. And that was the first time I had met James.
For the first time in a while, I wondered why James had sought me out and befriended me. Because he was a pretty cool guy, who could be very popular if he wanted to be. I mean, he already had plenty of friends, but I'm talking about the kind of popular that's always stereotyped, but always exists, of course. But he didn't. He picked me to be his friend. It was strange, mind-boggling to an extent. But I was glad that he wanted to be my friend. Or at least, I thought so. But none of my thoughts were really going straight at that time. Especially ones about James, and R, and Sophia, and R's mom, and, well, just everything. Everything on my roller coaster was going 500 miles an hour, I decided. And it was unnerving.
All of a sudden, James stopped pacing. He jolted me back to my sense with a loud voice.
“Gosh, what is wrong with me?”
“James, what are you talking about? Seriously, can we just go eat lunch, please? I'm starved. Besides, what do you even want to tell me? It can't be that important, can it?”
He looked conflicted, torn between two different things. “I'm not sure. I don't want to spread a stupid rumor or make you worry or anything.”
I was still confused, but now I was also worried. If he didn't want to make me worry, then why were we standing cramped together in a small closet during lunch hour? But the thing that worried me the most was that I was pretty sure whatever he had to tell me was about R. I became almost frantic.
“You have to tell me. Please. If it's about R, I should know. Besides, you've already worried me, a lot!”
“Okay, fine. But take this all in stride, okay? Because I don't actually know if it's for sure true. But, anyway... Kyle told me that he heard your friend R and somebody else talking in the guy's bathroom. Now, I don't know what exactly they said, but R was saying something about he didn't even care about living anymore, and then the other guy, whoever it was, I don't know, anyway, the other guy offered him 'a release from it all'. And Kyle didn't hear R's response, if he did respond. So, I don't know what any of this might mean, but I think you need to watch out for R, Shane. He might be getting mixed up in some serious stuff.”
“Hah!” A burst of air escaped my lips before I could stop it, or even try to stop it. “Sorry. But come on, James, you really think R is contemplating suicide? Or drugs?”
“I didn't say that. It might not even be drugs, but it could be. I'm just saying, I think he might be getting into some trouble, and you should watch out. Who knows, maybe you could help him. And I wasn't even there, so Kyle might have been mistaken. I just thought you should know, okay?”
“Fine. Whatever. But you're wrong, I know you are. He wouldn't get into anything like that, ever. I know him.”
“Okay, if you're so sure... let's just get out of here, huh? I'm pretty hungry, too.”
“Gladly.”
We exited the closet, and the room, and I would gladly have escaped from James then if I hadn't needed to follow him to find the way back to where we had met. I followed him that far, and we parted ways. He still looked very worried, especially after I had brushed him off so quickly.
Why does he freaking care so much about R? He's MY best friend, after all. James barely knows him. I'm the one who knows R really well. And I know he wouldn't any junk like, well, anything! …I think...
I started actually thinking about what James had said. He wouldn't lie to me, would he? And Kyle wouldn't lie to James. So maybe James had a point. But he had also said that Kyle hadn't heard R's response. R could have said no. I spotted him sitting outside on a bench, with Sophia, of course. I gulped, and took a big breath of fresh air before hurrying my way over there.
Chapter twelve
12.
“Hey guys. How much longer do we have for lunch? I'm so hungry I could eat... well, the cafeteria lunch!” I joked around.
Sophia gave a little chuckle. “We still have about 15 or 20 minutes, I think. Where have you been all this time?” Her second sentence was a bit hurried, and pointed. I saw her giving me a “look”, meaning, “Where in the heck have you been, I thought we were working together to help R, and you're jetting off, you lousy friend!”
I gave a big sigh, trying to exaggerate it as much as I could. “Eh, well, we all know how popular I am. I could barely make my way to the door, what with all the screaming fan girls – and guys!”
I looked at R for the first time. He was sitting there on the bench, between Sophia and I, looking down at his hands and not really talking. He hadn't even laughed at my joke. That made quite a bit more worried than I already was. R almost always laughed at my jokes, even if it was just a sarcastic laugh at the lame ones. But no, he was just sitting there, staring down at his wrists, like he was frozen. So I took one step further and spoke directly to him.
“Hey R, did you eat already? Because I brought a home lunch today,” I held it up, “and you can have some of it if you want.”
His head snapped up, suddenly, and the look on his face was angry. “Why is everyone trying to give me charity? My mom is the sick one, not me. I already ate, thank you very much. Now just leave me alone, will you?”
My eyes opened wide, and I looked at Sophia for some help. She just shrugged. I guess R had been ticked off at her, too. At least it wasn't just me. He was probably just in a fowl mood, and I didn't blame him. I didn't say anything else to him, either. I just sat still and ate the lunch my mom had packed for me. Sophia stayed silent, also, and R just sat there, brooding. Or at least, that's sure what it seemed like. The bell rang, and we scattered to our various classes. R was off to math or something like that, and Sophia followed me to our history class.
“Shane, R's gone, you don't have to keep up the silence.”
“I don't care. There's nothing to talk about.”
“Yes there is, and you know it! Don't just ignore the problem in front of you. R is probably worse than you think. And seriously, where were you earlier?”
I spun around on my heels and faced her, fed up. Not just with her, but with everything, the whole situation. It was too much. “I was with James, okay? And he was oh-so-worried about R, too. He seems to think R might be 'getting mixed up in some serious stuff'. Now, answer me this. Why does everybody seem to be getting all chummy, buddy-buddy with R right as his mom gets sick? I don't remember any of you beating down a path to his house before this happened. Do you?”
She blushed, and looked embarrassed. I felt a bit stupid, too, actually, but only a bit. Not enough for me to take back the words I had already put out.
“Oh, never mind. Let's just go to class.”
So we did. We went to class, learned all about the French Revolution, and then parted ways. I didn't talk to Sophia for the rest of the day, and I was glad. I didn't talk much to anybody, actually, and I was totally fine with that. It was mostly my choice, anyway.
I had one class with James, and I caught him shooting a few worried glances my way, but I deliberately ignored all of them, and scurried out of the classroom as fast as I could. When all my classes were over, I raced to my backpack and was ready to make it out of school in record time, and then I remembered.
Counseling!
I still had a session to go to. I wasn't even sure when they ended, actually. Someday... I was dreading that session more than I had ever dreaded one before. Well, I basically dreaded all of them, but I wasn't looking forward to it even more than usual. Mr. Quirk would probably sense right away that something was wrong – he was a counselor, after all. Even though he was a pretty strange one. Then he would start pressuring me about R, about everything, and I just didn't think I could stand that. But I couldn't very well skip it. That might make me have 2-hour sessions or something horrible like that. Sighing deeply, I turned in the direction of my counselor's office, and trudged my way there. I was really ticked off, and I could tell that Miss Germain saw it in my expression, maybe even in the way I was walking, because when I was starting to open Mr. Quirk's office door, she told me,
“Shane, I know you don't really like these counseling sessions and everything... but maybe this one will be good for you.”
I didn't reply, just walked through the door. But she knew that I heard her.
“Ah, good afternoon, Shane.” As I sat down in my usual chair, Mr. Quirk sounded a bit worried. He obviously saw the same thing that Miss Germain had seen. I wasn't even quite positive what it was, but I wasn't very happy that I was so easy to read. I had always thought I was somewhat good at ruling my body language. But certain people had always been able to pierce right through that barrier. Like James. And Miss Germain and Mr. Quirk. But maybe it was just them, not me.
“I have a question for you, Shane.”
“And how is that any different than usual?” I was feeling very sarcastic.
“It's a different question, that's how. Now, I'm feeling that you still don't feel very comfortable talking to me, and you often don't answer my questions truthfully, or at all. Is that true?”
I refused to look at him. “Yes.”
A sigh. “Well, then I'm going to be no help to you. Unless you are willing to tell me about yourself, than there's no point in doing this.”
I perked up a little. “Does that mean we're going to stop?” I immediately felt sorry. I hadn't meant to sound mean, but thinking about it through his point of view, that would sound very rude. “I'm sorry.”
He sighed again. “No, it's fine. I understand that lots of people, adults included, don't like being analyzed. But we still have to continue until the end of December. Principals orders.”
I let out a groan. Mr. Quirk smiled a little sadly. Well, maybe not sadly. Like he was sorry.
“Yes, I know. It's quite a while. And that's why I'm getting worried, Shane. I know that something's bothering you. But you're not letting it out. That's what I'm here for; I'm simply someone you can talk to. And it doesn't matter if you talk about your friends. Nobody else will hear this information, especially if you ask me exclusively not to let it out.”
I was amazed at how kind Mr. Quirk was being. He was sympathetic, and that surprised me the most, since I was sitting there in his office basically slapping him on the face by telling him that I didn't want to continue talking to him. That affection threw me off the edge. I started talking, chattering, on and on and on.
“I know. I know! I just felt, well, kind of annoyed. More than annoyed, dang, I can't think of the word. But, I just wasn't very happy that the principal seemed to think that I needed a counselor so badly. And I totally resented that. I guess I just felt like he thought I was abnormal or something, and here I am trying to blend into the walls so people won't notice me, and the principal of all people, says that he thinks I'm interesting!
“And now my best friend's mom has cancer. Serious cancer. And R is acting like he doesn't even want friends anymore, and doesn't want me to help him and all that junk, and it's just making me even more frustrated and confused. I mean, I know that R tries to come off with a sort of tough guy routine, but I know that on the inside he's really a softie. So I don't see why he has to be acting like such a jerk! He's hurting, and I can tell, but he refuses to admit it.”
Mr. Quirk injected a few words while I was taking a breath. “Well, you know, somebody might be able to say the same for you. I think you're hurting, too, Shane, but have you admitted it to yourself?”
It was those moments that I remembered Mr. Quirk was a counselor, not just an average guy. He had training about this kind of stuff. And wow, sometimes he was good.
I closed my eyes. I thought. I sighed. “You're right. I am hurting. But it seems so weird to say that to myself, you know? I mean, I'm trying to be mature, and not a wuss. And I'm a guy, so if any of the girls saw me acting all chicken, they'd know I'm a sissy.”
Mr. Quirk spent a few moments looking thoughtful. “But at least now you know how R is feeling, right? That might give you an edge on knowing how to act around him. Don't you think?”
“Well, I guess. Maybe. But I still can't think of anything right now. And what's even worse, is that I keep thinking about myself, and not just R. Like I keep feeling so ashamed and sorry for myself because R is going through this too, but ten times worse, and he's being so much stronger than me. My feelings just don't make sense. If anyone asks, I say, 'I'm fine...'”
Mr. Quirk's lips twitched in an amused way, but he hid it well. “That's because you're male. We say we're fine even if we don't mean it, because, like you said, we don't want girls to know we're really not all that brave on the inside, right?” He seriously winked right then, but not in a creepy way, just in a friendly you-won't-believe-this way. “And believe it or not, girls do exactly the same thing. We're all human and all have flaws.”
“Some more than others, unfortunately.”
“Yes, but who are you to judge? Everybody is their own worst critic.”
I sat up straighter. “I've heard that before somewhere.”
He nodded. “Yes, it's rather common knowledge. And there are a lot of truths just in those few words. But we won't go into all that now, unless you want to.”
I had an idea. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”
“Why, yes, of course.” He looked a little surprised at first, but then graciously complied.
“Does life ever get less confusing when you're older?”
“No, not at all!” He laughed, throaty and warm. “But as you grow, you will acquire wisdom, to help with some of the confusion. It never really goes away, mostly just balances out. Why do you ask? Anything in particular on your mind about that subject?”
“Well, sort of. The girl, Sophia, that I told you about before, well, we're basically friends, I guess. But I still don't know her very well. And yet...” It sounded even stranger coming out of my lips than when it had happened. “She showed up at my house this morning and woke me up. I was considering skipping school,” I admitted.
“Then that must mean she really is your friend. But I sense some doubts in you.”
“I've never really had a girl for a friend before,” I admitted to him again. “And so I don't really know what to do. It feels weird spending time with her. Especially since she's probably the most confusing person I know...” My brow knit. Mr. Quirk watched me talk. “I still don't know why she wanted to be my friend in the first place.”
I told him the whole story about the note, and what she had said to me on Monday, and several other things. I had hoped that when I had everything out in the open, cards on the table, it might help clear the fog a little. But the fog hadn't lifted, I still felt like I was wandering through it without even a flashlight. Still confused. But I talked with Mr. Quirk about several more things, and he did have very insightful and good ideas sometimes. I was surprised when his watch beeped and our time was up. He stood from his desk, and I from my chair. He took my hand and shook it hard.
“It's been a pleasure getting to know you, Shane. See you tomorrow, hmm?”
“Yeah, uh, yes.”
As I left his office and the high school building, a thought struck me. He's not so quirky after all. And he might even be a good friend. Friend. What a strange word.
Chapter thirteen
13.
R was absent from school Thursday and Friday. Sophia and I were both worried out of our skulls, especially since he wasn't answering on his cell. His mailbox wasn't even set up either, so we couldn't leave a message. If we could, he would have heard a lot of screaming voices, yelling his name, and shouting at him to “PICK UP THE PHONE!”.
Sophia called me three times on Saturday. The first two times we both asked each other if we'd heard from/seen R. We both said no. The third time, she was starting to get just a little bit heated.
“Hi, Shane, I guess you know who it is. No, I haven't heard from R, no, you didn't either. Look, why don't we just go to the freaking hospital and find him? Might as well beat him up while we're there, too, since it'll be convenient. What with him already being in the hospital and everything.”
We discussed that option, and decided against it. Well, I decided against it, and so did both of our parents. So she eventually came over to our side and decided it wasn't such a good idea. Our parents told us both that R needed his space, and we needed to respect that.
Once, James called, and when I answered the phone by saying, “Sophia?” in a tired, worn out voice, he got a kick out of it. We agreed to both bike into town and meet at the park. I wasn't exactly ecstatic to hang out with James, especially since I had a lot of other things on my mind. But my parents were itching for me to get out of the house (I think they wanted some “alone time”) and I also admitted that it might be good for me. So I saddled up my bike (ha ha...) and rode into town. James was there already, leaning against a swing set, looking cool and nonchalant. I exited my bike and walked it over to him. He noticed me only when I said his name.
“Oh, hey!”
“What's up?”
“Eh, bored. Kyle and Mike are both doing something. But I figured you wouldn't mind hanging out with just the two of us, right?” He grinned and kicked a rock. I smiled, but couldn't think of anything to say. My mind was elsewhere. I think James could tell.
“R's gonna be okay, Shane. Hey, do you wanna go grab some french fries from Carl's Junior? I'll pay.”
I nodded and we walked over to the restaurant. It only took about 15 minutes. We each got a big order of fries, and then took them outside to eat in the fresh autumn air. I breathed in deep. It felt good. I hated being cooped up inside all day long. Either in my house, or in school. But school was decidedly worse. The only TV there was in the teacher's lounge.
James sighed dejectedly. “Well, this is boring. I want to do something, not just sit here and eat. Hey, wanna see if we can catch a movie?”
“Isn't the theater, like, 3 miles away from here?”
“What, you chicken? What'd you think the bikes are for?” He grinned at me, a look of competition entering his face. I couldn't help but grin back.
“You're on.”
We jumped onto our bikes and as fast as we could, took off. I knew the basic route to the mall movie theater, but James knew some side streets, so it was a good thing that he was a faster rider than me. I followed him all the way there, and we pulled up into the parking lot side by side, breathing heavily from the workout.
“I won,” he said, grinning again, and then putting his hands on his knees and panting.
“No way, man. That was a tie.”
“Want to go back and do it again?” He raised his eyesbrows.
“Never mind,” I shook my head, exaggerating it to make it comical, “You won.”
We both laughed before locking up our bikes and heading inside. We were just in time for a showing of a kung-fu film we had both wanted to see, so we paid and snuck our way into a back row of the darkened room. The movie was pretty good, but very corny at some parts. James fell in love with the main girl character, and I teased him about it while we were riding – slowly – back home.
“Oh yeah,” he said in retaliation to one of my insults, “Well, well... ah, you got me. I got nothing.”
I laughed, and was going to admit that secretly I had thought she was pretty cool, too, but James started talking again.
“Shane, you're my friend, right?”
“Yeah...” I said, confused.
He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then shook his head. He spoke again after a few moments. “Want to meet my family?”
I was sure that wasn't what he was originally going to say, but I didn't mention anything. I just nodded and said sure.
I slept over at James' house that night. We stayed up late, talking about the movie, and school, his family, my family. I got to meet his parents and two of his sisters, one older and one younger. His older sister, Katelyn, was a senior, so I had seen her around school before. I hadn't even known she was James' sister, though. His little 7-year old sister Jordan was cute, but a little bit of a pest, and somehow she liked me right away. How could I tell?
“I like you!” She had said, right after James had introduced me. “Give me a piggyback ride!”
James was a lot more talkative than usual when we stayed up late, just chatting and sometimes playing video games.
“I have another sister,” he told me while the Halo 2 screen was loading. “She's away at college in California, but she usually comes up for Christmas and Thanksgiving.” The game loaded right after he said that, so we played in silence except for the occasional exclamations that everybody does while playing video games.
“Aw, man, did you see that?”
“I killed you!”
“Shoot, I died.”
And so on.
While we were in the kitchen cooking a frozen pizza, his sister Katelyn came in.
“Hey, sis. Where were you?” James asked.
“Out with some friends. Oh, hi Shane. Are you spending the night?”
After quickly getting over the shock that she was talking to me, I replied. “Yeah.”
“Cool. Whatcha guys doing?”
“Making some pizza to eat while we watch a movie.” James said, and then asked, “You wanna join us?”
“I have some homework to do... ah, well, why not? Sure.”
I was surprised at first that she wanted to join us. After all, we were both just sophomores, and she was a senior. And she was James' big sister. From what I had heard of siblings (since I didn't have any of my own) they usually didn't hang out with their little brother and his friends. But then I realized she probably just wanted to avoid doing the homework she had mentioned. In fact, I might have done that too. If I had siblings, that is.
We settled down to watch the movie, and somehow Katelyn ended up in the middle of the couch we were sitting on. It was a little cramped, so I felt kind of awkward, but as the evening progressed that feeling mostly went away. Katelyn was fun and talkative. She laughed at the movie just as hard as we did, and even injected several behind-the-scenes things she had learned on the Internet.
“It's my favorite movie,” she explained. “I'm not just some geek who goes around collecting that kind of stuff.”
“She pretends not to be.” James whispered to me, and we all laughed. I was having a great time and hadn't remembered any of the day's earlier events until I was leaving James' home on Sunday afternoon.
We were saying goodbye, when he said triumphantly, “I bet you didn't think about R once last night.”
I was a little shocked, but I just said, “You're right, I didn't.” And left. But on my way home, that's who I was thinking about. R. I really had forgotten completely about him. I was just having a really good time with James, and with Katelyn, because she actually had hung out with us a lot. I was pondering whether I thought it was a good thing or a bad thing I had forgotten about R when I got home.
“Mom! I'm back!” I yelled, stepping inside. The house was quiet, so I entered the kitchen, looking for a note explaining where my parents were. Unless they were just upstairs. I looked all around, and no note. I went upstairs. No parents in any of the rooms. I checked the computer room, the downstairs bathroom, even the garage. They were gone. But why wouldn't they leave a note? I was walking through the front hallway, wondering if I should check the neighbor's house when I saw a little flashing red light. It was on the answering machine, so I pressed a button to see who had called. There were two messages. The first was from Sophia.
“Shane, you cheater, you quitter. I can't believe you actually went to hang out with someone. I just got my parents to say that we could swing over to R's house and see if he was at home. And now you're gone. They said I can't do it alone. I think you need to- oh, there's someone on the other line. You got lucky, I have to answer it. Don't call me, I'll call you.” Click.
The second was from my parents, and the sound of it sent a chill down my spine that worked its way throughout my bones. It was my mom's voice that did the talking. “Shane, I'm hoping that you'll get this message. I know you're at James' house, but we didn't have the time to write anything down on a note. We had to leave in a hurry. “ I could hear some muttered talking in the background. One of the voices sounded like my dad's. “Anyway, we're at the hospital. We got a call- oh, for- I have to go. Look, just, if we're not home by the time you get home, which we probably won't be, come to the hospital. Mrs. Garcia next door will probably be able to drive you if you need a ride. I told her. Okay? Oh, I really have to go. Bye!” Click.
R was absent from school Thursday and Friday. Sophia and I were both worried out of our skulls, especially since he wasn't answering on his cell. His mailbox wasn't even set up either, so we couldn't leave a message. If we could, he would have heard a lot of screaming voices, yelling his name, and shouting at him to “PICK UP THE PHONE!”.
Sophia called me three times on Saturday. The first two times we both asked each other if we'd heard from/seen R. We both said no. The third time, she was starting to get just a little bit heated.
“Hi, Shane, I guess you know who it is. No, I haven't heard from R, no, you didn't either. Look, why don't we just go to the freaking hospital and find him? Might as well beat him up while we're there, too, since it'll be convenient. What with him already being in the hospital and everything.”
We discussed that option, and decided against it. Well, I decided against it, and so did both of our parents. So she eventually came over to our side and decided it wasn't such a good idea. Our parents told us both that R needed his space, and we needed to respect that.
Once, James called, and when I answered the phone by saying, “Sophia?” in a tired, worn out voice, he got a kick out of it. We agreed to both bike into town and meet at the park. I wasn't exactly ecstatic to hang out with James, especially since I had a lot of other things on my mind. But my parents were itching for me to get out of the house (I think they wanted some “alone time”) and I also admitted that it might be good for me. So I saddled up my bike (ha ha...) and rode into town. James was there already, leaning against a swing set, looking cool and nonchalant. I exited my bike and walked it over to him. He noticed me only when I said his name.
“Oh, hey!”
“What's up?”
“Eh, bored. Kyle and Mike are both doing something. But I figured you wouldn't mind hanging out with just the two of us, right?” He grinned and kicked a rock. I smiled, but couldn't think of anything to say. My mind was elsewhere. I think James could tell.
“R's gonna be okay, Shane. Hey, do you wanna go grab some french fries from Carl's Junior? I'll pay.”
I nodded and we walked over to the restaurant. It only took about 15 minutes. We each got a big order of fries, and then took them outside to eat in the fresh autumn air. I breathed in deep. It felt good. I hated being cooped up inside all day long. Either in my house, or in school. But school was decidedly worse. The only TV there was in the teacher's lounge.
James sighed dejectedly. “Well, this is boring. I want to do something, not just sit here and eat. Hey, wanna see if we can catch a movie?”
“Isn't the theater, like, 3 miles away from here?”
“What, you chicken? What'd you think the bikes are for?” He grinned at me, a look of competition entering his face. I couldn't help but grin back.
“You're on.”
We jumped onto our bikes and as fast as we could, took off. I knew the basic route to the mall movie theater, but James knew some side streets, so it was a good thing that he was a faster rider than me. I followed him all the way there, and we pulled up into the parking lot side by side, breathing heavily from the workout.
“I won,” he said, grinning again, and then putting his hands on his knees and panting.
“No way, man. That was a tie.”
“Want to go back and do it again?” He raised his eyesbrows.
“Never mind,” I shook my head, exaggerating it to make it comical, “You won.”
We both laughed before locking up our bikes and heading inside. We were just in time for a showing of a kung-fu film we had both wanted to see, so we paid and snuck our way into a back row of the darkened room. The movie was pretty good, but very corny at some parts. James fell in love with the main girl character, and I teased him about it while we were riding – slowly – back home.
“Oh yeah,” he said in retaliation to one of my insults, “Well, well... ah, you got me. I got nothing.”
I laughed, and was going to admit that secretly I had thought she was pretty cool, too, but James started talking again.
“Shane, you're my friend, right?”
“Yeah...” I said, confused.
He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then shook his head. He spoke again after a few moments. “Want to meet my family?”
I was sure that wasn't what he was originally going to say, but I didn't mention anything. I just nodded and said sure.
I slept over at James' house that night. We stayed up late, talking about the movie, and school, his family, my family. I got to meet his parents and two of his sisters, one older and one younger. His older sister, Katelyn, was a senior, so I had seen her around school before. I hadn't even known she was James' sister, though. His little 7-year old sister Jordan was cute, but a little bit of a pest, and somehow she liked me right away. How could I tell?
“I like you!” She had said, right after James had introduced me. “Give me a piggyback ride!”
James was a lot more talkative than usual when we stayed up late, just chatting and sometimes playing video games.
“I have another sister,” he told me while the Halo 2 screen was loading. “She's away at college in California, but she usually comes up for Christmas and Thanksgiving.” The game loaded right after he said that, so we played in silence except for the occasional exclamations that everybody does while playing video games.
“Aw, man, did you see that?”
“I killed you!”
“Shoot, I died.”
And so on.
While we were in the kitchen cooking a frozen pizza, his sister Katelyn came in.
“Hey, sis. Where were you?” James asked.
“Out with some friends. Oh, hi Shane. Are you spending the night?”
After quickly getting over the shock that she was talking to me, I replied. “Yeah.”
“Cool. Whatcha guys doing?”
“Making some pizza to eat while we watch a movie.” James said, and then asked, “You wanna join us?”
“I have some homework to do... ah, well, why not? Sure.”
I was surprised at first that she wanted to join us. After all, we were both just sophomores, and she was a senior. And she was James' big sister. From what I had heard of siblings (since I didn't have any of my own) they usually didn't hang out with their little brother and his friends. But then I realized she probably just wanted to avoid doing the homework she had mentioned. In fact, I might have done that too. If I had siblings, that is.
We settled down to watch the movie, and somehow Katelyn ended up in the middle of the couch we were sitting on. It was a little cramped, so I felt kind of awkward, but as the evening progressed that feeling mostly went away. Katelyn was fun and talkative. She laughed at the movie just as hard as we did, and even injected several behind-the-scenes things she had learned on the Internet.
“It's my favorite movie,” she explained. “I'm not just some geek who goes around collecting that kind of stuff.”
“She pretends not to be.” James whispered to me, and we all laughed. I was having a great time and hadn't remembered any of the day's earlier events until I was leaving James' home on Sunday afternoon.
We were saying goodbye, when he said triumphantly, “I bet you didn't think about R once last night.”
I was a little shocked, but I just said, “You're right, I didn't.” And left. But on my way home, that's who I was thinking about. R. I really had forgotten completely about him. I was just having a really good time with James, and with Katelyn, because she actually had hung out with us a lot. I was pondering whether I thought it was a good thing or a bad thing I had forgotten about R when I got home.
“Mom! I'm back!” I yelled, stepping inside. The house was quiet, so I entered the kitchen, looking for a note explaining where my parents were. Unless they were just upstairs. I looked all around, and no note. I went upstairs. No parents in any of the rooms. I checked the computer room, the downstairs bathroom, even the garage. They were gone. But why wouldn't they leave a note? I was walking through the front hallway, wondering if I should check the neighbor's house when I saw a little flashing red light. It was on the answering machine, so I pressed a button to see who had called. There were two messages. The first was from Sophia.
“Shane, you cheater, you quitter. I can't believe you actually went to hang out with someone. I just got my parents to say that we could swing over to R's house and see if he was at home. And now you're gone. They said I can't do it alone. I think you need to- oh, there's someone on the other line. You got lucky, I have to answer it. Don't call me, I'll call you.” Click.
The second was from my parents, and the sound of it sent a chill down my spine that worked its way throughout my bones. It was my mom's voice that did the talking. “Shane, I'm hoping that you'll get this message. I know you're at James' house, but we didn't have the time to write anything down on a note. We had to leave in a hurry. “ I could hear some muttered talking in the background. One of the voices sounded like my dad's. “Anyway, we're at the hospital. We got a call- oh, for- I have to go. Look, just, if we're not home by the time you get home, which we probably won't be, come to the hospital. Mrs. Garcia next door will probably be able to drive you if you need a ride. I told her. Okay? Oh, I really have to go. Bye!” Click.
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