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by Patty Blount

  Let’s just say I made the most of it.

  She frowned again. “Jeff’ll hurt you.”

  I laughed. “I’m not worried. Why are you? You don’t even like me.”

  “Are we back to that again?” She sighed dramatically.

  I didn’t want to get into it all over again, so I changed the subject. “I don’t hurt so easily anymore.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut for a minute. “You forgot the first day of school already? You were pretty easily hurt then. And that was one punch. The thing about Jeff? He doesn’t fight fair.”

  “Neither do I.” I leaned closer. “I took that punch because I knew Mr. Morris would see it.” I winked.

  You are such a liar.

  She doesn’t know that.

  You sure about that, bro? Look at her face.

  She knew.

  “You glared at me. You totally hated me.”

  Okay. I guess we were getting into it again. I nodded. “I did. I was pissed off when I found out you saw the whole thing. You could have helped Brandon but didn’t. You forced me to take a big risk I shouldn’t—” I mashed my lips together. I’d said too much. Damn it. You see? I poked Kenny. This is why it’s too dangerous to be friends. It’s easy to slip up.

  She drew in a deep breath. “What? The risk to your popularity? Or your pretty face? Oh, wait. I know. The risk to getting on the football team.”

  Popularity? Football? Please. I tried to laugh, but I was far too disgusted. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about football, Julie.” How much could I say so she got it? What could I tell her without taking an even bigger risk? “There’s a reason a guy starts a new school in a new town in his senior year. You could have stopped that fight, but you didn’t. So I had to, and the whole time, I’m rehearsing the stuff I was gonna have to tell my parents when we were packing up to move. Again.” I grabbed the water bottle in one hand and my tray in the other and stood.

  “Dan, wait. I know about you, and it’s cool really—”

  What? Oh God, no.

  The food congealed in my gut, and the world slipped away. My hand convulsed around the water bottle, and the plastic cracked under the strain. Run. Right now. Run.

  “Dan? Daniel, stop it. Look at me.” She pulled the water bottle away from me, forced me to look at her. “Everyone’s been talking about your scars. We know you got into a bunch of fights and had to leave your last school because somebody got…got really hurt. And now whenever you see fighting, you have to stop it, but you’re afraid you’ll have to leave again. I get that. But you can’t mess with Jeff. He’ll do worse than your scars.”

  Relief washed over me, relief so great it was like plunging into the ocean on a hundred-degree day. Is that what everybody was saying? The whole school thought I was Tyler Durden. I could work with that. As long as they didn’t know the real story, I still had a shot at getting through the next few months.

  ————

  At the day’s last bell, I hurried to my car, anxious to get away from everyone. I was pissed at Brandon for being stupid, pissed at Julie for forcing me to risk even more than I already had, pissed at Kenny for pushing me to make friends, pissed at myself for letting my guard down, and pissed at God for watching me splash in the deep end of the pool and not tossing me a ring.

  Thinking about Brandon had me replaying the earlier scene when he baited Jeff. What the hell was he thinking? No sane person would seek out his bully’s attention unless—

  I froze mid-step.

  Oh God, no. My brain started connecting the dots. Damn it, why hadn’t I seen it? The way Brandon protected his backpack earlier? He packed a knife or gun inside it—I was sure of it. The problem with weapons was that you could be disarmed and the weapons used against you. That was exactly why I’d developed my own body into a thing of strength and power.

  I got into the car, slammed the door, and threw my head against the headrest. How did I miss this? Brandon was plotting.

  Kenny rubbed his hands in glee. Epic! Next time, don’t stop him. It will be better than Fight Club.

  I clamped my hands to the steering wheel instead of Kenny’s neck. “I am not going to let him get hurt, no matter how epic you think it might be. He’s not thinking straight. He doesn’t know he can’t possibly win.” I choked when I realized what I’d just said.

  Kenny’s laughter ended. He stared at me from the seat beside me, eyes full of knowledge. Maybe winning isn’t his goal.

  With hands that shook, I raked hair off my face and tried to form a plan from the dozens of thoughts buzzing around my panicked mind. I had to stop him, had to stop Brandon from killing himself to get away from Jeff’s torment or, worse, killing Jeff. I knew what it was like to live with blood on my hands.

  Kenny’s eyes—my eyes, whatever—gleamed dangerously in the sun beaming through the car’s windows. And how are you gonna do that? You’re much better at causing suicides than preventing them, don’t you think?

  “Shut up!” I roared. “Just shut the hell up!” I pounded the steering wheel. A tap on my window hammered a spike of terror through my chest.

  “Dan? What’s the matter?” Julie pressed her hand to the window, the line between her eyes fully defined.

  My inner demon found great humor in Julie’s question. Where could I start? While Kenny cackled, I shook my head slowly, mechanically. I flung my head back and shut my eyes. All I had to do was keep the secret. But then I met Brandon, and suddenly, keeping him safe was this impossible task. Sisyphus got off easy. Rolling a freakin’ boulder uphill for eternity was better than this. The boulder couldn’t resent my efforts.

  I heard the passenger door open, and Julie slid in to the seat Kenny had occupied a minute earlier, filling the car with that scent I craved. She covered my hand with hers, squeezed.

  “Dan.” She didn’t move her hand. “What’s going on?”

  I swallowed hard and finally opened my eyes. She watched me, her forehead creased, eyes grim. “Any ideas on how to stop a suicide?”

  She snatched her hand from mine like I was caustic. Her eyes turned glacial. She took her giant purse from the floor and left the car, slamming the door behind her. I shoved through my door a second later. “Julie!” I caught up to her in a few strides, took her arm, spun her around.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  You upset her, Kenny shouted.

  I’m aware of that.

  Fix it. Fix it now!

  I’m trying, Satan. Back the hell off.

  Out loud, I demanded, “What the hell’s your problem?”

  “My problem? My problem? You can sit there with a straight face, make lame jokes about suicide to me, and ask me what my problem is?” She wrenched free from my grasp and strode off.

  I didn’t know why she thought I was making jokes about suicide, so I tried again. “Do I look like I’m joking? Julie, I think Brandon’s gonna kill himself, and I don’t know how to stop him.”

  She halted, hesitated a moment, and faced me. “You’re serious? You’re not making a sick joke out of my brother and me?”

  My eyes popped. “Making a joke?” If there was a connection among teasing, suicide, and Julie, I wasn’t making it. “You never mentioned having a brother.” A cold knot settled in my stomach, slowly tightened across my gut.

  “Had. Past tense.” Her eyes bore holes through me as if I should have known this. “He killed himself when he was, like, twelve.”

  I pressed a hand to my open mouth to block the stream of curses I nearly cut loose. “Was his name Liam?” I blurted. I took her by the shoulders and gripped tightly. “Answer me!”

  “No.” She wouldn’t look at me.

  “Julie, please!”

  She shot me another arctic look that almost freeze-dried me where I stood. “You’re hurting me.”

&
nbsp; Abruptly sick, I let her go. “I swear to you I didn’t know about your brother.”

  She stared a minute longer. “Fine,” she said with a long sigh. “Let’s say I believe you for a minute. Why are you so worried about Brandon?”

  I was struck mute. I couldn’t very well tell her that the little voice in my head noticed something funny about the way Brandon acted. “I…God! I didn’t notice it, not until later.” I spun around, pointed to the grassy median. “There. Right there. He was walking back and forth, slowly at first. Like he was pacing. But then I realized he was baiting the hook. He was doing all he could do to get Jeff’s attention. Julie.” I put my hands on her shoulders, looked her dead in the eye, and spoke the unbelievable truth. “He was asking for it.” I raked the hair off my face, growing more certain Kenny’s suspicions were correct with every word. “He had his backpack with him. When Jeff and his sidekicks approached, Brandon took it off his back, brought it to his chest. I didn’t connect it, not then. The careful way he was cradling that bag. The wild look in his eyes. He had a weapon, Julie. I’m sure of it.” I ignored her gasp and pushed the words out faster. “Worse, he didn’t care that Jeff had backup and that even with a weapon, odds are he wouldn’t have won the fight. And then at lunch before, he was pissed off at me for stopping him, and I didn’t understand. But now I do. He…I think he was hoping Jeff would give him a reason, Julie.”

  Julie took my hand, led me back to my car, and got in. Only when the doors were closed did she speak. “Dan, this is—”

  “Huge,” I finished. “I know. What I don’t know is how to help him.”

  She watched me for a long time, her eyes thawing. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

  I blinked at her for thirty whole seconds, bewildered. I was pretty sure it was English I’d been speaking. Helpless frustration made me twitch. “Damn it, Julie. If you can’t help me, just say so. Stop torturing me.” With my palms up, surrendering, I waited for her to trust me.

  Julie picked up the giant bag from the floor of my car, rummaged through it. After a minute, she pulled out a large plastic bag that contained the remains of a Lego helicopter. A bunch of blocks floated loose around the bottom. I blew out a loud sigh. “Legos? Come on, Julie. I have to find Brandon.”

  She held the bag, staring at it with eyes glazed, mesmerized by the past. “This was my brother’s. He…never got to finish it.”

  “So you carry it around in your purse?”

  She laughed, a short, sad sound. “I bet you think that’s crazy, but I like keeping it close. I keep everything that’s important to me in this bag. Just in case—” She left the sentence unfinished.

  “Will you tell me about him?”

  A tendon leaped to prominence in her neck. The bag of Legos disappeared back in the cave of Julie’s purse. “I don’t talk about him. Ever.”

  I beat back my disappointment and nodded. “Okay. I understand. Look, I gotta go now. I need to find Brandon.”

  She opened the passenger door and called out over her shoulder. “Don’t leave him alone. That’s the one thing he’ll want most. If he is thinking about suicide, he won’t want to hang out.” And she was gone.

  I watched her walk away, her comical purse bouncing off her hip with every step. The burning need to know what else she kept in that sack battled with my other burning need—to help Brandon.

  ————

  I waited in the parking lot, but Brandon didn’t show. He must have boarded a bus before I got out there. By four o’clock, I was parked in front of his place, bouncing my knee against the dashboard and wiping my damp palms on my jeans.

  You sure you want to do this? Kenny popped into the passenger seat. I jerked, accidentally hit the horn, and jumped again.

  Damn it, Kenny.

  I didn’t have time to go a few more rounds with him. The front door opened, and Brandon came out to my car, no doubt attracted by my horn-beeping blunder.

  “Hey, man,” I said after I lowered the passenger side window.

  “Hey. What are you doing here?”

  “Um. Well, I wondered if you were up to anything? Wanna hang out?”

  He did a double take. “You want to hang out? With me?” His eyes gleamed.

  I nodded. “Sure. Why not?”

  “Like, right now?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, Brandon. Now. What’s your problem?”

  “Um. Well, I figured you’d have a dozen other things you’d rather do than hang out with me.”

  “I’m not working. I don’t have to be home for hours yet. And maybe you haven’t noticed, but you’re pretty much my only friend.”

  His lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Yeah? What about Julie?” He jerked his head to the house over his shoulder.

  I scratched my head and considered that. “I don’t know if Julie and I are friends. Exactly.”

  He huffed out a short laugh and patted the doorframe. “Well, come on. It’s getting cold out here.”

  I locked up my car, followed him inside the house. He led me up a flight of stairs lined with tons of framed pictures. “Are these all you or your brother?”

  “Only child.”

  “Yeah? Me too.”

  He led me into his room. I whistled. “Wow, man. Nice.”

  His room was enormous, easily twice the size of mine. He had a cool flat-screen TV sitting on a stand on one wall. Opposite it was a twin bed shoved against the wall and lined with pillows so it could be used as a sofa. Under a huge window that faced the street, he had a large desk with another flat-screen. This one was for his computer. I couldn’t help but notice the display. It was opened to a social networking site. I read several of the posts.

  They were threats. All of them.

  “Brandon, what the hell is this?”

  He let out a long sigh. “Jeff and his pals. You’re there too.”

  I managed to swallow my curses. “Figures.”

  “He’s posting that you…and I—” Brandon inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “Well, you can read.”

  I could, and I did. It was a lot of Brokeback Mountain kind of stuff. I was relieved; it could have been a lot worse.

  Dude, I know this is a stretch for you, but maybe you could imagine things from his point of view instead of yours?

  Kenny’s reminder served its purpose, and I winced. I looked at Brandon, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. His face was red.

  “Brandon, this doesn’t bother me.”

  That got his attention. “It doesn’t?” His eyes were huge.

  I managed a tight smile. “I’ve been called a lot worse.”

  Yeah, I guess “fag” pales next to “pervert.”

  My stomach clenched as it always did when I heard that word. Thanks, Kenny. Appreciate that.

  Deliberately, I tuned Kenny out and remembered why I was here. “Does it bother you?”

  He scoffed, laughed. “Me? Nah.”

  I noted the darting eyes, the muscle twitching in his jaw, the nervous laugh. “It’s okay if it does. It’s, um, normal, I guess. I mean, it’s hard to understand how people can be so mean.”

  “There are so many,” he whispered.

  “Anybody besides Dean giving you a hard time?”

  “Um, everybody?”

  I almost laughed and then realized he wasn’t kidding. There was so much I wanted to tell him. Like I knew how he felt, I’d been in his shoes, and not to do something in the heat of the moment he’d regret later. These weren’t just platitudes. They were the wisdom of my own experiences, but I couldn’t find any way to share them without also sharing my real identity.

  Jeez, man. You’re not a superhero. Your real identity isn’t that big a deal.

  Brandon suddenly brought his hands together in a single loud clap. “Hey! You up for some Xb
ox?”

  He was wound tight and could use the distraction, so I agreed. We played hockey and then switched to war games. He kicked my ass, which Kenny found endlessly amusing. It wasn’t until a voice called up the stairs that I realized we’d been in the house alone all afternoon.

  “Brandon! I’m home.” Footsteps padded up the stairs, and the door opened. “Oh. Hi.”

  Brandon’s mother looked from me to him and back to me. Her face split into a wide grin. “You…you have a friend over.”

  Her astonishment was painful to witness, and from the look on Brandon’s face, just as painful to experience.

  “Um, Mom, this is Dan Ellison.”

  “Hi, Dan. Nice to meet you. Are you a senior?”

  I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Her smile dimmed. I knew what she was thinking. I wished I could promise I’d remain friends with Brandon after graduation but feared it was a promise I wouldn’t be able to keep.

  “Well, it was nice to meet you, Dan.”

  “You too, Mrs. Dellerman.”

  For one suspended moment, I saw myself following Brandon’s mother downstairs, telling her everything, and begging her to get Brandon out of danger. And I saw her asking me how I could be so sure. The moment passed, and I hated myself all over again.

  What else is new?

  “Sorry about that. She—”

  “She’s great, Brandon. It’s cool.”

  He nodded, shrugged, and I stood up.

  “I need to get home, Brandon. Hey, do you like to work out or run or anything?”

  Another shrug. “I don’t know.”