“Anyway, I was debating on how I’d do it—whether I’d slit my wrists or not—which might be easier since I was so good at it—from all the practicing, you could say. For years I felt like I’d been swallowed into some black hole, and I couldn’t breathe or see, like that baby, and I think that’s when I thought of the birth, how somehow, through the blindness and the darkness, she came out…and she opened her eyes, and everyone loved her. That’s when I decided not to do it, I think,” he said. “But in a way, I haven’t stopped trying since then. I never really stopped trying. But I’m done now, okay? I’m done trying to kill myself.”
“How do I know that?” I asked. I remembered the way he’d called out the Rudoy brothers in the auditorium, even though they could’ve done the same thing to him that they did to Riley. The way he’d punched Toby. The way he’d burst through the door and into that garage full of criminals, ready to fight anyone and everything, ready for everything to explode.
He brushed away the wetness on my face.
“I guess you don’t,” he said sadly. “I guess I need help. I need to go back to therapy or something. I hated therapy, but I promise will. I promised my uncle. I don’t want to die. I want to live. I really want to live.”
“Mr. Orellana?”
I sat up as we turned around to face the doctor, a kindly looking older man with wire-rimmed glasses. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” he said. “Some pain in my shoulder, but I’m feeling a lot better. The morphine drip doesn’t hurt.”
“Well that’s good to hear,” he said. “And you’ll call the nurse if you need more, yes?” Then he nodded in my direction and offered me a friendly smile. “And uh, are you his brother?” I wondered for a moment if he’d seen my head on Connor’s chest, his fingers threaded through my hair, and a part of me wanted to hide. But I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “I’m his boyfriend.”
53.
Dad let me take the next few days off of school. He even called Principal Oliver on my behalf, told them I’d been present for the incident at the garage and that I needed some time.
I wonder what Oliver thought of me, of my and Connor’s involvement. But I guess he wasn’t angry about it, because when Dad got off the phone with him he just shrugged and said, “You’re good.”
Jess agreed to bring me the homework and assignments that I’d missed. Not that I’d really be reading or doing them, but it was the thought that counted.
She showed up at my house at two p.m. on Monday with her backpack full of papers and this smile on her face that said everything was going to be okay. We retreated to my room.
It was a beautiful, blue sky day. The air was cooler, cleaner, and I had my window open to let in the breeze. I’d cleaned up before she came, put away dirty socks and clothes, wiped some spilled soda stains off my bedside table. I’d even done a load of laundry.
“Looks nice in here,” said Jess, nodding her approval. She tossed her backpack on the floor and flopped down on my bed. I half-expected her to launch into her usual saga about what everyone was up to at school, the fights and the drama, but instead she got really serious.
“We do need to talk,” she said.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Will you at least roll me a joint first?”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. You’re not the only one who smokes, you know.”
I laughed and got out my rolling papers and grinder and the little bag of weed I had left. I’d resolved to quit after I ran out of the last batch Toby had bought for me, but part of me knew that was bullshit.
I was probably always going to be a stoner.
Jess ran her fingers along the zigzag patterns on my bedspread. “Can you do me a huge favor and not say anything until I’m done?”
I mimed zipping my lips shut and nodded. She sighed and spoke to the zigzags.
“You hurt me, Jack. You really did. And I know you know that. But you have to understand, what you did at that party was unbelievably wrong. And selfish. And cruel. You violated my body, and you violated my trust. I don’t really care if you were trying to work out your sexuality or whatever. That’s not an excuse. I also don’t care if you felt like Toby and Max were holding your feet to the fire. Or that you were drunk. Or that I was drunk.”
I licked the glue strip on the rolling paper and nodded, waiting for her to continue. Her words hurt like hell, but they didn’t kill me. I could hear this.
“And I don’t need another apology. I know you’re sorry. What you do going forward matters more than what you say, in this case. And…when Toby…when he got on top of me and tried to rape me, I thought back to that night, and you. And how maybe I could never really be friends with a
