by Halli Gomez
“Really? And he agreed? He’s an idiot for letting you string him along. Or do the stars tell you to treat him like that?” Jay asked. “Just do me a favor and remember other people will be there.”
“Jay, remind me why I’m friends with you,” Rainn said.
“Come on, guys,” Khory said. “This is a new beginning. How about hanging out at the mall instead? You’re coming too, right, Troy?”
With a big gulp I forced down a piece of sandwich. I was happy for her. After what she’d been through, Khory deserved to experience as many things as possible. And I wanted to be around her, even if that meant stepping out of my comfort zone and playing along.
“Sure,” I croaked.
I put my hand in my pocket, grasped my phone, and desperately clung to my list that had an end.
. . . . . . . . . .
It was one of those days when everything seemed to go my way. The girl of my dreams wanted to hang out. I made it to the bus in time to get my seat behind the driver. And the girl with the ponytail already claimed her seat far, far away from me.
Then reality hit. My neck jerked and got stuck in the tilted-to-the-left position. The kid behind me snarled, daring me to stand up for myself and say something instead of just breathing banana-scented hot air toward him. The only thing worse would have been an uninvite for this weekend. “Sorry, we decided we don’t want to be seen with you in public. Actually, we’re not sorry.”
I guess I expected the text to come, because I stared at my phone the entire bus ride. Accept yourself, HQ constantly told me. That was probably the best advice he’d given me in our twelve months together. Unfortunately, he didn’t tell me how. If he had, maybe I would have been able to explain the concept of Tourette and medication to Rainn and cross another item off my bucket list.
But Rainn mentioning medication during lunch did give me an idea. I opened my phone to my Methods to Die list and added another one.
1. Gun
2. Pills
It was a good idea to have a backup. What if Dad’s gun was moved or he was home sick and I couldn’t get to it? I couldn’t wait until the next day. It had to be April 6. Ten years. I squeezed my hands together and counted to ten. Repeat. “It’s okay,” I told myself. But it really wasn’t. It had to be ten.
The bus finally got to my stop. I ran home and went through the regular routine: tic explosion, Jude’s monitor on the table, and Terri announcing tacos for dinner. Yum. I dropped my backpack in the family room.
Terri took forever to pack up. A cop should always be ready to go, just in case there was an emergency, but by the time she clipped everything on her gun belt, the robbery would have been over and someone would be lying dead on the ground.
“Bye, Troy.”
“Bye,” I said for the fourth time.
Her car door slammed. The motor started. I leaned over and stared out the window. She backed out of the driveway and stopped. A car passed. The garage door closed. She finished backing up and drove away.
I exhaled, got up, and went to the bathroom where I kept my medicine bottles. Clonidine for Tourette, melatonin for sleep, and Lexapro for OCD and anxiety. The cocktail that was supposed to get me through the day.
I picked up the clonidine bottle and squeezed my hand around it. Tighter. Then repeated with melatonin and Lexapro. I moved the bottles around in my hand. They fit perfectly.
Each label was kind enough to list their most common side effects, and lucky for me, they all had the one I was hoping for: drowsiness. How many would I need to take to put me to sleep permanently? I opened each bottle. They were full. I was sure that would work, but could I stop taking them for the next fifty-seven days? My neck twitched. My face scrunched up. I pounded the countertop.
No one wanted to see the real me. I didn’t even want to, which was why I never looked in a mirror. Feeling it was plenty. But if I hid a few pills every week, I’d still have enough for my daily combination and get refills sooner. Refills meant one hundred and twenty pills. I rolled my shoulders back and poured two out of each bottle. Six. One more from each. Nine. I took out one more Lexapro, ripped off squares of toilet paper, and wrapped the pills inside. Then I shoved the package in the back of my toothbrush drawer.
I got back to the family room just as Jude’s voice sang through the monitor. I jumped up. There was so much to tell him.
“Do you remember the girl, Khory, I told you about?” I asked and lifted him out of his crib.
Jude smiled and spoke in the language only I understood. “Yes, the pretty one from the yearbook.”
“Well, we are going out Saturday night. Okay, it’s with other people, but she invited me out with her friends.”
I smiled so big my cheeks hurt. Jude reached up and stuck his fingers on my teeth. Yeah, this was a new expression for me.
We went to the family room, and I put him on the floor with his toys. I pulled out my homework. Chemistry first. Jude tossed his toys to the side and crawled toward me. I showed him my diagram of an ion. He reached up, and I moved my notebook out of the way. Then he put his hands on the table and pulled himself up.
“You’re standing!” I said. “I can’t believe you’re standing.”
I grabbed my phone and pressed record. He held onto the table and bounced up and down. I pushed my books away and bounced with him. He collapsed on the floor but got right back up.
At lunch Khory said we should make the most of our time here. That’s what I planned to do. I’d miss a lot of Jude’s life, all the big events, but I would always have this. I put him on my lap, and we watched the video. He giggled and screamed and reached toward the table to do it again.
I texted Dad and Terri the video. Imagine when he took his first steps! I sighed. I wasn’t going to see that.
But I’d make sure he had a babysitter who sent Dad and Terri videos so that they didn’t miss anything. Not a nanny who plopped him in front of the TV and searched the house for things to steal. A good one who played with him and taught him about science. They had to know he loved rockets.
FEBRUARY 13
When I saw Khory in Chemistry yesterday, she didn’t say anything about going out on Saturday. So when I woke up this morning, I was convinced being silent was her way of ditching me.
I didn’t want to wait two days to see her again, but I was okay with not going out. I had things to do at home. A whole list of things. I picked up my phone and started a new list: Babysitter. I typed the requirements.
1. Take him to the park
2. Read to him
3. Knows CPR
That last one was mandatory. There were the girls in the neighborhood who liked to play with Jude, but they were young. They probably still needed babysitters themselves.
How about someone from school? The only people I knew were Riley and Nicholas, and I didn’t really know them. Then there was Khory, Rainn, and Jay. That was it.
My phone vibrated. A text.
KHORY: Still available tonight?
ME: Yes
I was thrilled she couldn’t see me grinning like an idiot.
KHORY: Good. Taco Bell at 6 then movie.
ME: OK.
My smiled faded. Dinner was not okay. It would be the cafeteria all over again. And movies were even worse. My neck twitched. Ten times. Twenty times. My face scrunched up. Then my hands. Repeat.
There was a reason I hadn’t been to a movie theater in years, and not because there weren’t awesome ones to see. It was brutal being the only kid who didn’t see the new Star Wars movie when it came out, but it was easier to pretend I did than explain why I didn’t. Ticcers didn’t go to the movies, at least I didn’t. The urge for that one tic was so overwhelming, no amount of self-control, lame breathing techniques, or medication would help.
A movie was going to ruin my little fantasy. In it, Khory wouldn’t just be my first kiss, she’d actually like me, and we would go on a date. Of course, once we went to the movies, it would all explode.
Still, I coul
dn’t help but dream. I closed my eyes. Khory and I were at the movies, sitting next to each other sharing sour gummies.
“I’m so excited about Mrs. Frances’s summer program,” she said.
“Me too. My dream career is to be an astronaut.”
The idea of floating in space made me as lightheaded as she made me. But then I landed with a crash when the tic formed in my brain. It was a word that pushed everything else out. I squeezed my hands and pressed my lips tight. If I said it once, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I opened my mouth just enough to shove a few gummies in.
The word was now an image in my mind. A device, black with different-colored wires. The letters. My throat made a guttural sound. It was coming. Like a fire working its way up to the roof ready to be expelled in a verbal explosion of inappropriate words and phrases.
“BOMB! BOMB! I HAVE A BOMB!” I yelled.
People screamed. Most fought their way to the exits. A few lunged toward me and tackled me to the ground. They beat the shit out of me and held me down until the police came. And no matter how hard I tried, no explanation in the world could fix it.
“I have Tourette syndrome,” I said. “Shouting words like that is a tic. I can’t control the stupid things that come out of my mouth.”
“Shut up!” The guy pinning me down said.
“I’m the most nonaggressive kid you’ve ever met. Just ask Justin who pounded me in fourth grade.”
And then the police came and took me away.
I opened my eyes and was back in my room. My door and windows were closed. I put my head down and mumbled bomb over and over. Ten times. Deep breath. Exhale. Repeat. I shook my head to stop the tears that were coming.
I couldn’t go. I needed an excuse for canceling. I had to babysit Jude. I had too much homework. We were having quality family time. They all sounded fake. There was always the truth.
“I have Tourette syndrome, and no matter how hard I try not to, I will yell the word bomb in a crowded movie theater. There’s the possibility you’ll be shot just for being next to me, and I can’t put you in that kind of danger.”
My face burned with humiliation at having this disorder. Canceling with a lie was the only answer.
But after a shower, late lunch, and two episodes of Arrow, the best excuse I came up with was wanting to binge-watch a TV show I’d already seen. Maybe Jay and Rainn would convince her not to invite the math tutor. “We don’t want to talk math on the weekend, so what could he possibly have to say?” I rolled over on my bed, let my head sink into the pillow, and started a third episode. I could lie here all night.
My phone beeped. I crossed my fingers for the uninvite.
KHORY: Rainn’s house after dinner. No movie.
ME: No movie?
I sat up. That changed everything.
KHORY: Dad won’t let me.
The number one reason why texting was better than calling: she couldn’t see me leap off my bed and punch the air with my fist.
ME: Sorry.
KHORY: It’s ok. See you later.
I turned off my computer, put on jeans, changed my shirt four times, and went to tell Dad I had plans tonight.
I didn’t know what to say. Who would have thought telling your dad you were going out with friends would be hard? Actually, it wasn’t him I was worried about. It was twenty-questions Terri.
She dropped her phone on the table and jumped out of her chair. I stepped back, afraid she was going to hug me.
“That’s great. Who are they?” Terri asked.
“Just some friends from school.” One question down, nineteen to go.
“Like who? Boys, girls?”
I stared at Dad and drilled my eyes into him. Help me out here, please. But he smiled and crossed his arms. Gee, thanks.
“A kid in my science class and some people I eat lunch with,” I said.
Vague, but there wasn’t time for details. It was a fifteen-minute walk to the mall, but it would take me thirty. I put on my jacket.
“Well, that sounds like fun,” Terri said. “Do you need money? How about we drive you?” She reached for her keys.
“I could use some money, and thanks, but I don’t need a ride.” It would have saved me a lot of time, but if she saw Khory, she’d assume I liked her, which was true, but then she’d want to talk to her.
I took the twenty-dollar bill Dad handed me, shoved my phone and house key in my pocket, and left before she had time to ask the remaining sixteen questions. I sang along to “Renegades” by X Ambassadors, and between the music, counting, and bending, my brain was too busy to really focus on the possibilities for disaster that waited for me at Taco Bell. None of which had anything to do with the food.
FEBRUARY 13
I made it to Taco Bell in twenty-five minutes without having an anxiety attack, but my chest tightened at the sight of the restaurant. I moved to the side, hid in the shadows, and gasped for air. I ticced until my whole body ached. Dinner wasn’t a good idea either. The people. Food trays. But the urge to spend time with Khory was like a tic itself. I couldn’t say no. I needed to be near her.
Mrs. Price’s Mazda drove up and pulled to the curb. I stepped out of the shadows as Khory and Rainn climbed out of the back seat. Khory slammed the door as if a hurricane had blown through, yanked Rainn by the arm, and practically dragged her to the restaurant.
“Don’t let them bother you,” Rainn said. “They let you go out. Take some deep breaths, and let’s have a good time.”
Khory inhaled while I counted to ten and exhaled. Her shoulders dropped, and she smiled. I definitely didn’t have the right technique.
“You’re right,” she said. “I’m out. We’re going to have fun.”
“Hi.” I said. Baby steps. Going out first, conversational abilities next.
“Hey, Troy. I’m glad you came,” Khory said. “Is anyone else here?”
“I don’t know. I just got here.”
I moved in front of them, grabbed the door handle, and pulled it open. Khory nodded toward my hand on the door and smiled. “A gentleman. Thanks.”
I followed them inside and over to the counter where Jay stood with a big muscly guy I assumed was Diego. He was nothing like the animal-loving cartoon character I watched as a kid.
“Go, Diego, go,” I mumbled.
Diego spun to me. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”
He scrutinized me and curled his lips. “You must be the tutor.”
I stared at my shoes. My shoulders hunched over. Great way to start the night. I pressed my lips together to hold in any other stupid comments and a possible whimper. Khory put her hand on my arm and pulled me toward a different register.
“I’d like two beef hard tacos and a Diet Coke, please,” Khory said to the tall pimply cashier.
“I’ll have the same. But a regular Coke.” I would have added another two tacos or maybe a chicken wrap, but the less I ate, the less I’d barf up if things didn’t go well tonight.
When our food was ready, we filled our drink cups and took everything to a table. I sat between Jay and Khory since I knew them best, and I didn’t think Go Diego Go would appreciate me invading his personal space. Khory’s hair brushed my shoulder, and my hand tingled. I wanted to feel the softness between my fingertips, but I was trying to stay away from the freak show label. I shoved my hand under my leg and pressed down as hard as I could.
“Jackson, do you guys know him? He’s a running back on our football team,” Diego said. “Anyway, he got a VR machine. It’s awesome. I’m saving all my money for one.”
Rainn turned to him and pressed her lips together. I wasn’t sure if she was upset that he was talking video games or that he would be spending money on one and not on her.
“I’ve seen those virtual reality games. They’re pretty cool,” Jay said. “Can you imagine being in the middle of a first-person-shooter? That would blow my mind.”
“I have one. The VR machine,” I said. Dad wasn’t fond of the first-per
son-shooter games, too realistic for his taste. But he was fine with games like Batman.
“Dude, you are so lucky,” Jay said. “What games have you played?”
“Can you interact with other systems?” Diego asked.
Who knew the way to make people like you was to talk game systems? Diego leaned in closer and apparently forgot I compared him to a whiny cartoon character. Was I now the math tutor and VR connection? My hands clenched and unclenched. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to just talk. I tempted fate and let my hands rest in my lap.
We talked video games, and Khory and Rainn seemed interested. To a point. After we finished our tacos and drink refills, Rainn huffed and crossed her arms. Then huffed again.
“What?” Diego spun toward her.
“You’re ignoring me.” She sighed and pouted.
Diego put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. That was enough to make her happy, because she turned to him and kissed him. Mouth open, her tongue poking in his mouth. I sucked air through my straw so I wouldn’t mumble the word whipped.
Still, I couldn’t help but stare. The compulsion was too strong. I tried to turn away, but that just gave the urge power. Like peeking at the test of the kid sitting next to you or staring at your history teacher’s chest because her shirt was too low. I waited for them to call me a pervert, but they were too wrapped up in themselves to notice me. Literally. His arm was around her shoulders, and she was nestled in his armpit. Their faces were tilted toward each other, they’d smile, whisper things I’m sure I didn’t want to hear, then kiss, open mouth, tongue, everything.
Khory nudged me. “They wouldn’t seem so cute if you heard the fights they’ve had.”
That was cute? My stomach didn’t think so. His tongue in her ear wasn’t mixing well with the two tacos I just ate. But a part of me wondered what it would be like to be Diego and have someone want to be that close to you.
I studied Khory. Her hair tucked behind her ear revealed a silver earring with a blue stone that matched her sweater. Why didn’t she have a boyfriend? Because her parents wouldn’t allow it? She smiled at me, let out a sigh, then played with her napkin.