The Friend Scheme

by Cale Dietrich

  Luke parks in the closest free spot, and we climb out, and start heading toward the front door. The lot is dark and still. Luke practically jogs across it, and I try to keep up.

  To be honest, I can’t help but feel slightly responsible for this. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I hang out with Jason one time, and then this happens. I know there’s no direct link, and I shouldn’t feel this way.

  But still, I do.

  The hospital’s walls are cream colored, and the floors are speckled blue. The desk and furnishings are all modern and sleek, which feels promising. Luke broke his arm when he was younger, and the place he went was ancient. This place looks top-notch. It smells clean, like antiseptic spray. It’s so strong my nose starts tingling.

  Luke takes me down a hallway, and we reach a waiting room.

  Inside, most of my family has gathered. We fill almost the entire space. Everyone looks tired and drained. It’s Millers only, no allied families.

  Everyone glances my way. A few of them sneer at me.

  Luke was right. I should’ve been here right away, as I’m sure Luke was. And yet, I wasn’t.

  They don’t need it, but this is clearly another strike against me.

  Luke goes across the room and sits down. I sit beside him.

  And we wait.

  After a few hours, a doctor finally steps into the waiting room. I’ve never felt so sick.

  We all huddle around the doctor. Luke is closest to her.

  “Just tell us,” he says. “Is he okay?”

  “It was touch-and-go for a second there, but it’s looking good,” says the doctor. She’s in blue scrubs and holding a clipboard. “We managed to get the bullets out and stop the bleeding. He’s expected to make a full recovery. Your old man’s quite the fighter.”

  Relief washes over the crowd.

  He’s going to be okay.

  “We’ll keep him in an induced coma for the next few days, to give his body some time to heal. You’ll be able to sit with him during visiting hours, but for now, I advise you all to go home and get some rest. It’s been a long night, but the worst is over.”

  Vince goes up to her and shakes her hand. As he does, I notice he’s handed her a wad of cash.

  He wants her to keep this quiet.

  I shouldn’t be surprised. I know my family has a foothold in most major institutions in the city. If they scratch our back, we’ll scratch theirs. Not passing on this information to the police is one of the things they can do.

  “Hey, Matt,” says Luke.

  “Yeah?”

  “A word?”

  Luke takes me down a hallway to find a quiet spot. We stop beside a vending machine, and he tucks his hands into his armpits. The lights here are so bright my eyes sting.

  “I think someone should stay here,” he says. “In case something happens.”

  “Yeah, same.”

  I think I know where he wants me to go with this.

  “You go,” I say. “I’ll take first watch.”

  He looks totally wiped out. His hair is messy, and there are angry dark circles under his eyes.

  “You sure?” he asks.

  “Yeah. Get some rest, dude, you’re done.”

  “Okay, thanks. I’ll go sleep, then we’ll swap in the morning?”

  “Sure.”

  “Cool, thanks.”

  We go back to the waiting room. Everyone is in the process of slowly gathering their things to head home. It seems like I’m the only one staying.

  That suits me just fine. Luke’s company is always welcome, but the others …

  I’d rather be alone.

  I take a seat and watch as everyone leaves. A few of the guys shake my hand as they go, each one crushing my palm with their grip. I also get a few emotionless hugs from my aunts. But that’s it.

  And then I’m alone.

  It’s moments like these that my lack of friends hurts the most. I’m just not close enough to anyone to talk to them if I go through something rough. All I can do is pretend I don’t feel anything.

  I think that’s what my family wants from me. To be like Luke, so strong, so okay with everything that happens in this family.

  But I’m not.

  I’m just not built like that. I could cry right now, but I feel like I can’t.

  I wait for a while, just thinking about my life and Dad. Mostly I’m just wishing that he will be okay. I’m not ready to lose him. I know we don’t see eye to eye on basically anything, but he’s still my dad.

  I can’t lose him.

  It makes me think I’ve been taking him for granted. I know he raised me on his own. And he’s never complained about me being so obsessed with movies, and he lets me buy as many as I want. He’s been a good father, and I haven’t given him any credit for that.

  Then I think about Jason. This feels typical. I have one really fun night, and my family swoops in and wrecks it.

  Plus, he’s gay. I haven’t even had time to deal with that revelation.

  I still don’t know where this is going. It makes at least as much sense as him just randomly seeing me in a bathroom and deciding to be friends with me. People aren’t normally super friendly to strangers, unless they want something from them.

  I check my phone and see he’s messaged me a few times.

  Okay, I think the coast is clear. Attempting to break out now.

  Eddie just wants to keep playing fetch. Worst guard dog ever. Haha.

  I’m outside. I feel like a criminal right now, you have no idea.

  MISSION COMPLETE! Wow, that was fun. Thanks again for a good night, I always have such a good time with you.

  I find I’m smiling.

  He’s such a goof. I start typing a message.

  I’m glad you made it home okay.

  The typing bubble appears right away.

  What happened?

  What do you mean?

  It sounded serious. Is everything okay?

  I told you, it’s a family thing. Something bad and it sucks. But don’t worry, I’ll be okay.

  The typing bubble appears, then vanishes. Then appears again, only to vanish once more.

  Finally, a message comes through.

  Where are you now?

  Mercy Hospital. Why?

  The message appears pretty much straightaway.

  I’m on my way.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Hey, I’m here, where are you?

  I stare at my phone for a second, as that sinks in.

  I mean, it’s not that tough a question to answer. I’m on the rooftop of the hospital. There’s an ocean breeze, cutting through the humidity, and I can hear the endless traffic flowing through the streets. It’s dark out, but the space is well lit by the buildings around.

  I wanted to find somewhere where I could talk to Jason without stressing about being interrupted. I explored for a while and then found an elevator that goes up to the roof. I’m not sure I’m allowed to be up here, but nobody has stopped me yet.

  I start typing my response.

  On the roof.

  My thumb hovers over the send button.

  It’s really nice that he came. Of course I think that. But isn’t this risky as hell? Anyone in my family could show up at any time, and then I’d need to explain why I wasn’t in the waiting room, like I said I would be.

  And if Jason met anyone, he might be able to figure out that I’m part of this city’s first family of crime. Knowing that, he might not want to be friends anymore. I think he thinks I’m like him, from an allied family. I don’t think he knows just how deep in this world I am.

  It’s a risk I’m willing to take, though. Having a friend to talk to right now would be so nice it almost doesn’t feel real. I’m so used to bottling up how I feel, but tonight, maybe I don’t have to.

  I hit send.

  I tuck my phone back into my pocket and try to find a place to sit. Obviously there aren’t any chairs or anything: but there is the lip of the roof. It’s pre
tty thick; it’ll be fine. I go over to the edge and peer down. I can see the street below, which is quiet. I spot a parked silver Alfa Romeo. Luke would love that car.

  I push myself up and onto the lip of the roof. I scoot forward, until my legs are hanging in thin air. The cement is cool and rough.

  My hands are shaking now. From everything.

  My dad got shot.

  He nearly died.

  It’s completely fucked-up.

  It makes me think about the Donovans. I picture them and try my best to hate them.

  There’s Frank Donovan, the current patriarch. He’s an overweight man, balding, who always wears a three-piece suit. He has reddish hair and a beard. It’s said that he’s vicious but not very smart. In this business, though, pure, ballsy aggression often does work. Still, it’s his wife, Maria, who’s the really dangerous one. She’s pretty much the opposite of him: Her hair is dark when his is light, and she’s incredibly slim, to the point where she looks ill. She’s a scalpel to his hammer, an expert at finding our weak points and exploiting them.

  She’s ruthless and wants my family dead as much as most of my family wants hers. Not for any personal reason that we know of, other than that she’s sick of her family being second-best.

  Always being the bridesmaid gets old, apparently.

  Then there are all the Donovans we don’t know. Part of this game has always been trying to figure out who they are. Once we find a Donovan, we normally try to kill them. They’re the same with us.

  I hear the sound of sneakers scuffing on gravel and spin.

  Jason raises his hand at me. I wave back.

  Good timing, too. I was just starting to fall down a rabbit hole thinking about my family and the war. And now I don’t have to. That’s the beauty of our deal, I guess. It lets us pretend we’re normal. It makes me understand why he doesn’t want to talk about our families, because I don’t want that, either.

  With him, I just want to be myself.

  He’s dressed in the same clothes he was when I last saw him. I guess it hasn’t even been that long. A few hours, tops. It feels way longer.

  He crosses the roof and sits down beside me. Like at my place, he sits a little closer than I feel he needs to.

  “It’s high up here,” he says as he looks down.

  “Yeah.”

  He smiles and kicks his feet. It’s cute. “What made you choose this spot?”

  “I didn’t want my family to see us, I guess.”

  “Because of our deal?”

  “Yeah.” I cross my arms. “I mean, what else would it be?”

  A complicated look crosses his features. He almost seems offended.

  “You tell me,” he says.

  I crack my back, and then look out at the city. This is tough. I think he’s here to provide emotional support, which is great. But I can’t tell him about everything that’s happened, because of our deal. And I guess I don’t want to.

  I don’t know what to say.

  “Listen,” he says. He adjusts his position, so he’s facing me a little more. “I know we have our agreement.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And I want to keep it going.”

  “I know, me too. I wasn’t going to…”

  “Good, but you can tell me some things, if you want.” His voice is even, and a little slow, like he’s being careful with his words. “Just, like, keep it vague. That way it doesn’t matter. You can tell me why you’re here, just, in a roundabout way. If you want.”

  “So no personal specifics?”

  “Exactly. I mean, you could tell me, if you want to.”

  I chew my lip. “I don’t. Sorry.”

  “Hey, don’t be. I figured. Pretend I didn’t ask.”

  “Done. Well. I will say that a family member of mine was hurt pretty bad.”

  I figure he probably already assumed that, given where I am.

  Still, saying it feels good.

  “Shit, dude, that’s really rough,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. They’re going to be okay, but it was a little scary for a second there. I didn’t know…”

  “Didn’t know what?”

  Tears fill my eyes. I blink them away. “I didn’t know if they were going to make it.”

  I sniff and look down. There’s so much I want to say, but I can’t.

  Jason puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

  He leaves his hand there, resting against me.

  We sit there for a few seconds, watching the city, with his arm on me.

  I’ve never had anyone do this to me before. It’s so nice. He doesn’t need to say anything more. Just him putting his hand on my shoulder tells me that he cares about me and he’s sorry that this really awful thing has happened to me.

  He’s got my back.

  “You don’t need to do anything,” I say. My voice sounds croaky. “You being here is more than enough. I don’t want you to think I’m a burden or anything.”

  “Dude, what? I’d never. I’m here because we’re friends now, right? This is what friends do. They support each other.”

  My eyes widen.

  We’re friends now. It’s official.

  “I wouldn’t know,” I say. “I’ve never really had any friends. Good ones, anyway.”

  “Really? Come on, you’ve got to be messing with me.”

  I shake my head. “No good ones. I just don’t click with people. I don’t know why.”

  “Well, everyone else is missing out,” he says. “I can tell you’re a great friend.”

  I feel like crying, but I smile. He squeezes one last time, and his hand slides off my shoulder.

  I miss the contact.

  “So,” says Jason. “I take it you’ve had a really shitty day?”

  “The shittiest.”

  “Then it’s my duty, as your friend, to cheer you up. That’s how it works, by the way. If something shitty happens to me, you need to be there for me. Deal?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay. Well, to take your mind off it, I want you to tell me about something you really love.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a game I like. All you have to do is talk about something you love a lot. I’ve found it’s a really good way to get to know someone, in a deeper way.”

  “Um,” I say. I stare up at the night sky and think. “Okay. So, I really love the movie Donnie Darko.”

  “Oh, nice. Jake Gyllenhaal is in that, right?”

  “Yeah. Have you seen it?”

  He shakes his head. “What’s it about?”

  “It’s weird. There’s this guy, Donnie, and he, like, sees this dude in a bunny costume who tells him the world is going to end in twenty-eight days, six hours, forty-two minutes, and twelve seconds. And it goes from there. When I first found it I watched it literally once every day for a week.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. I got kind of obsessed. I just wanted to pick it apart and learn the craft of it. I knew it worked; I wanted to figure out why.”

  “That’s so awesome, man. You’re so dedicated; it’s really inspiring.”

  “You’re dedicated, too, just, for games. You played Skyrim for four hundred hours, remember.”

  “Right. I guess it’s similar. Yours is cooler, though.”

  “I was thinking the same about yours. But okay, your turn. What’s something you really love?”

  He thinks about it for a second. As he watches the city, I find myself gazing at him.

  He truly is so handsome.

  Perfect, even.

  I mean, he’s not. There are slight bags under his eyes, his lips look really dry right now, and he has quite a few moles. He looks perfect for a real person, is what I mean.

  I shouldn’t take for granted how cool it is that he wants to be friends with me.

  He’s so different from most of the guys I know who are a part of this world.


  I hope he thinks the same thing about me.

  “Okay, I’ve thought of something,” he says. “I was going to say Skyrim, because that’s my favorite game. But you already know I love that. So there are these books called the Bartimaeus trilogy. I read them over and over and over as a kid.”

  “Dude!” I say. “I’ve read those!”

  He beams. “You have? You’re not just saying that?”

  “I wouldn’t lie to you like that. I love them.”

  “Me too,” he says. “They’re my favorite. I love Harry Potter, but I kind of like that these are a little less known, you know? It feels like they’re mine, in a way. I’m not sure if that’s stupid.”

  An ocean breeze hits us, and his eyelids flutter.

  “It’s not. I totally get that. It’s less fun to love something everyone loves, for some reason.”

  “For sure,” he says. “I can’t believe you’ve read them. We have so much in common; it keeps happening.”

  “Yeah, it’s weird, right?”

  I start feeling a little daring.

  I mean, he’s my friend. He’s already come out to me, and he came here, just to support me.

  I want to tell him about … me.

  I’m not expecting more than his friendship. I think he’ll be okay with it. As far as I know, there aren’t any homophobic gay dudes. That’d be stupid.

  I have nothing to lose and a lot to gain.

  How do I even do this? What should I say?

  I think about starting with We have something else in common, but that feels too obvious. This is my first-ever coming-out, but still, I don’t want it to sound totally naive.

  “Um,” I say. “I think I want to tell you something.” I stretch my arms out in front of me. “Fuck, I’m really nervous.”

  “Dude, it’s me. Don’t be nervous; you can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

  I exhale. “Yeah. So you know how I said I like Donnie Darko?”

  I say each word faster than I normally do. He nods.

  “Well, it kind of had a big impact on me. More than I was saying before.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I was watching it, I sort of realized…”