“Paul had finished taking off his shirt when I saw the top of his head get blown off. Just like in that film of JFK’s assassination. The top of his head went flying, and I watched it and then realized that I was covered with his blood and brains just like Mrs. Kennedy was.
“I froze, I… froze. I didn’t know what to do.
“There was so much screaming. People were running, trying to escape, and people were crying and praying and nobody knew what to do. Nobody.
“And I looked over at Nate and he looked at me and he got hit and fell. And then I got shot in the leg and fell down into a puddle of Paul’s spilled beer and blood.
“People were screaming and crying and running and the shooter kept shooting bang, bang, bang, bang, and I didn’t know what to do, I just didn’t know what to do.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Jonson… I didn’t know what to do.
“Nobody knew what to do.”
At this point, Mrs. Jonson was not in the picture. I wasn’t even really at Eisenhower High School, I was there, in the club, seeing and hearing and remembering every moment.
And the words just started flowing.
“But Bryan had gone and I didn’t know whether he was running or hiding or hurt or killed, but Nate was lying there all alone on the ground not too far away from me; I was close enough that I could see him bleeding and I could see him crying and I knew he was scared and I knew I had to get to him to be with him so I crawled over to where he was and there was blood on the ground and beer and piss and I had to climb over some girl who was on the ground crying and bleeding but I had to get to Nate. I had to. He needed me.
“And I needed him.
“And there he was so freaking scared and hurting and I made it over leaving a trail of my own blood and the music was still playing and the guy was still shooting people over on the other side of the club and there was music and screaming and crying and moaning and the sounds of those shots still going on and nobody knew what to do nobody did and I got to Nate and he was so scared and alone and I knew he was dying I just knew I knew he was dying and don’t ask me how I knew but I knew and I knew I couldn’t let him die without being kissed just once I knew he had never been kissed so I kissed him.
“And kissed him and kissed him and kept kissing him.
“And I held him and kissed him and told him it was going to be okay and that I wasn’t going to leave him I promised I wouldn’t leave him alone until help came and that help was coming and I kissed him again and again as his breaths seemed to come slower and slower and until I couldn’t feel him kissing me back anymore and I was crying and I could hear the music and people’s phones going off as I guess the word got out about what was happening and I was covered with blood and pieces of Paul’s brains and Nate was there dying and I could smell gunfire and blood and sweat and fear and it didn’t stop it just didn’t stop and I wanted it to stop and it didn’t.
“I know it’s not my fault that Nate was there I know that in my head but in my heart I know it is my fault that if it hadn’t been for me he wouldn’t have been there and he wouldn’t have died on that floor….
“And I feel so guilty for having survived. Why me and not Nate? Why me and not Paul? Why me and not that girl I climbed over to get to Nate? Why?
“That’s the dream I can’t wake up from that I’ve never fully woken up from and may never wake up from and I’m there and I can hear everything and see everything and smell everything and feel everything and it never stops it never stopped and sometimes I think it never will stop and it seems to go on and on and on.
“I know it didn’t really I know that but it felt like it would never stop that the shooting and screaming and music would never stop and I wanted it to I wanted it to so much but then the gunshots came further apart and I heard a Hispanic guy not far from me whispering into his phone, ‘Mommy, come help me, please help,’ and the guy with the gun heard him too he must have heard him because he came over and shot him in the head he kept shooting him and came over toward me and he saw me and Nate and I could hear his harsh breathing and he shot me again and then again and then there was silence.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
WE BOTH sat in silence.
Nate’s mom was red-eyed but seemed to refuse to shed a tear, staring straight ahead, not saying a word.
As for me, I was done. I’d said it all.
I was spent. Exhausted.
I felt like I could have curled up into a ball and slept for a very long time.
But at the same time, I felt somehow lighter.
Freed.
Like I finally had come through that storm.
I had nothing left to say. I had no more tears left to cry.
There was nothing left for me to say.
I looked at Mrs. Jonson, waiting for her to say something.
Nothing.
“Mrs. Jonson?”
Silence.
“Please?”
Nothing.
Was I still hoping she’d forgive me? Probably.
Maybe that’s what I really needed. For her to give me her forgiveness for what happened to Nate.
But she was not going to give it to me.
She would not give me that.
Not a chance.
She stood up and left without looking at me, not saying a word.
Not a freaking word.
I sat there for a while, then got up and headed into the dance. I at least wanted to check to make sure everything was going all right.
It felt like I’d been in that room with Nate’s mom forever, and when I got to the gym, the dance was in full swing.
I leaned back against a wall and watched. Just watched.
There were so many people there, so many more than I dreamed of.
Friends and strangers. Straight and gay and whatever.
Talking. Laughing. Flirting. Making out.
And dancing. So much dancing.
It made me smile.
I had made this happen.
And that made me proud.
Moments later, a slow dance started. People who had been dancing in groups began pairing up.
I looked over and saw Nguyen dancing with Rafael. They looked good together, and Nguyen was the perfect height to put his head on Raphael’s shoulder.
He saw me and motioned me to come over and join them. I shook my head no.
And smiled at them.
They looked so happy. So right together.
I saw other couples dancing. Boys with boys. Girls with girls. Boys with girls.
As it should be.
I felt a momentary twinge, thinking what might have been. I could see myself in Josh’s arms, my head pressed against his shoulder. I could see myself in Nguyen’s arms, his head pressed against my shoulder.
But this was okay. Better than okay.
I stood by myself, listening to the music and watching the dancing couples.
Watching.
Just watching.
And happy.
DENNIS ABRAMS grew up in the small town of Paw Paw, Michigan, and currently lives in Houston, Texas, with his dog Junie B. (named after Junie B. Jones) and his cats, the overly large orange feline known as Fez, and the beautiful Russian Blue, Alexis.
He is the author of numerous biographies and history titles written for young adults on subjects including Eminem, Hillary Rodham Clinton, Judy Blume, Xerxes, and Kim Kardashian. He has also written a two-volume introduction to the plays of William Shakespeare, The Play’s the Thing, as well as a critically acclaimed fictional memoir of one of the real-life boy actors at Shakespeare’s Globe Theater, I Was Cleopatra.
When not reading, writing, and walking Junie B., Dennis loves working out, eating out, traveling around the world to places such as Mongolia, Ethiopia, Papua New Guinea, Borneo (where he picked up one of his three tattoos) and Vietnam, where he dreams of someday living.
He also, as a change of pace from reading too much Shakespeare and the like, watches way too much Bravo TV.
Facebook: Dennis Abrams
Twitter: @DennisAbrams2
Instagram (which I haven’t posted on in years) dennisinhouston
Email: [email protected]
By Dennis Abrams
What Happens After
Published by HARMONY INK PRESS
www.harmonyinkpress.com
Published by
HARMONY INK PRESS
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
[email protected] • harmonyinkpress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
What Happens After
© 2020 Dennis Abrams
Cover Art
© 2020 Tiferet Design
http://www.tiferetdesign.com/
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Harmony Ink Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or [email protected].
Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64405-570-0
Digital ISBN: 978-1-64405-373-7
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019953338
Digital published March 2020
v. 1.0
Printed in the United States of America
What Happens After Page 17