The Thunder in His Head
Page 18
When we pulled into the parking lot, I saw Dwight sitting on the porch of Dad’s town house. I sat up in my seat, my body tensing. God, what the hell was he doing here?
“He showed up this morning, looking for you,” Dad said, as if he had heard my thoughts. “I told him I’d be picking you up this afternoon.”
Dad parked in front of his garage. I grabbed my stuff out of the backseat and we walked around to the front entrance. Dwight had stood up and was waiting, his body held as tensely as mine, a nervous smile on his face. He gave a little wave to us.
“Well, hello again,” Dad greeted him. He stopped at the steps and reached back, taking the backpack from my hand. Then, without another word, he went up the steps and into the house.
I stood there facing Dwight, neither of us saying anything for the moment. Some part of me felt bitterly betrayed, and I didn’t want him here. I’d had enough of everybody, of feelings and relationships, of being lectured and advised and punished. He avoided my eyes, staring down at my chest, and I took the opportunity to openly stare at his face. It was a nice face. And he had a banging body. God, suddenly I wished I could take him somewhere, be alone with him, get wild with him and just let everything go.
“Kyle.” My name came out of him in a sigh. He looked up at me. “I wish you had stayed for the game. It was a good one. We beat Hazelhurst, twenty-eight to twenty-six.”
“Good for you,” I mumbled. I sat heavily on the steps, leaning back with my elbows braced on the edge of the porch, my legs stretching out in front of me.
“I really missed you.”
I snorted, a flat, scornful sound.
He leaned over me anxiously. “Man, I promise you, there is nothing between Vivian and me now. If it weren’t for the baby, we probably wouldn’t even be talking to each other now.”
“But you are.”
“Because we have to. I had to get a job because my dad and Vivian’s parents expect me to help buy what the baby needs. You wouldn’t believe the kind of pressure I’ve been under, especially the past two weeks. Vivian and I have to make sure the baby gets to daycare before we go to school. We have to make sure she gets picked up in the afternoon. If we need a babysitter, we have to pay for it. We have to do everything for her.”
“Well, that’s what happens when people have babies, dude. What, you thought your fairy godmother was gonna pop up and take over or something?”
“What I’m trying to say is that I’m not with Vivian, and I don’t want to be with Vivian. I never did. I was hung up on my friend Curtis, but he was into his girlfriend, and Vivian was chasing me, and….” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of nose between his thumb and forefinger. The frustration over his inability to find the words he needed radiated from him like a physical force.
“I don’t even know how it happened, man,” he continued, grunting out another sigh. “It was the night after a big game. The four of us—Curtis and his girlfriend, Vivian and I—wound up at Curtis’s house. His parents were out, Curtis and his girlfriend were in his room having sex. And there Vivian and I were, hearing everything they were doing. It hurt me, it really hurt me, hearing Curtis with that girl. I wanted to be with him so bad. I wanted the pain to stop. Vivian was there, and she wanted me, and it happened. After that, I started going out with her because my father suspected I was gay and I didn’t want to hurt him. He’d already been through so much with my mom dying and—”
“Dude, stop,” I cut in irritably. “You don’t even want to know what my morning’s been like. All this is giving me a headache.”
Quickly, Dwight sat on the steps next to me. “Okay, then I’ll get to the bottom line. I want to be with you, Kyle. Please believe that.”
“You’re bi, man. You like girls.”
“You’re wrong—.”
“Let’s be real, okay? You’ve got a baby, with a gorgeous girl. I can’t compete with that.”
“You don’t have to,” he replied urgently. “You don’t have to compete with anybody for me.”
“Yeah? Well, what happens when you start missing what Vivian has? I can’t give you that—”
“Kyle, don’t you get it? I’m not into girls. I’ve never been into girls, at all. I had sex exactly once with Vivian, and the only reason I was able to do it that one time was because I was so turned on for Curtis. I used her, and I hate that, and I’m gonna do everything I can to help her take care of our baby. But you don’t ever have to worry about me going back to her, or to any girl. I like guys. I like you. You gotta believe that.”
He gave a glance over his shoulder at the door, as if to make sure we were alone. He leaned toward me, looking into my eyes with an intensity that made me want to squirm. “I think about you all the time. I think about the cute way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. I think about the way your lips feel when we’re kissing, all warm and smooth and soft. I like the way your hair smells, sort of tropical, like coconut. I like that you’re tall and strong and all don’t-take-no-mess-from-nobody tough. But then sometimes I see how scared you really are, and it makes me want to hold you. You seem to know when I’m scared too, and I like how you try to be there for me. Just being with you makes everything better for me.”
I was still too angry to blush at the things he’d said, but there was no way I could doubt his sincerity. I let my head fall back wearily, closing my eyes. After a moment, I said, “I believe you.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I guess on some level, I always did.”
“Then… you’re not writing me off because you think I want to be with girls? You and I can keep seeing each other?”
Without opening my eyes, I said vacantly, “Dwight, man, we’ll have to finish talking about this later. I’m tired. Things have been so crazy for me. Last night, I went downtown to have sex with a guy I met online a couple of days ago. My parents found out, and now I’m up to my neck in trouble—”
I broke off, raising my head, feeling that something was wrong. When I looked at Dwight, he had this glaring shock in his eyes, which was replaced a moment later by a sad pain. “It’s okay, man. It’s not the first time my folks have come down on me. I’ll live. But I’m beat, I gotta go in and crash. I’ll give you a call later.”
I got up and started to go inside, but something about Dwight’s expression stopped me. It was odd; the depth of his empathy was exceedingly out of proportion. I stared at him for an interminable length before he finally stood up, gave me a little nod, and walked quickly to his car. He slid behind the wheel and started the engine. It was then that I realized the grief in his face was the same as that in Stephanie’s eyes after we walked in on Dad and that woman.
Jesus.
I called out to Dwight, trying to stop him. But like Stephanie, he was gone.
Twenty-One
SOMETHING changed for me that Saturday afternoon.
As I watched Dwight drive away, an overwhelming rush of guilt and sorrow dragged down on my body like some great whirlpool. I grabbed the ancient cell phone Mom had restricted me to during my punishment and dialed Dwight’s number. After seven rings, his voice mail picked up.
“Yo, this is Dwight. You reached me, but I can’t talk right now. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon as I can. See ya.”
I started babbling before the beep even ended. “Dwight, it’s me. I’m sorry, man. You gotta let me explain. What I did last night was dumb, just dumb. Okay? Please, please give me a call.”
I disconnected the call. Damn. What the hell had I been thinking? How could I not realize what I was saying to him? I started pacing back and forth across the narrow porch, tapping the phone anxiously against my thigh, willing it to ring with a return call from Dwight.
After a few seconds of pacing, I stopped and dialed his number again. Once more, there were seven rings and his voice mail engaged. “Dwight, please call me,” I begged. “You have to give me a chance to explain this. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear. Please call me back.”<
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As I disconnected again, it struck me that if he did want to talk, he couldn’t reach me. The only number he had for me was to my cell phone, which Mom had confiscated. I didn’t even know the number to this rickety piece-of-dirt phone she’d given me. God, this whole situation was just getting better and better. My only hope was that he’d have a caller ID function on his cell.
I dialed him again. This time, the voice mail picked up before the line even rang once. That meant he’d turned off his phone. And that meant he didn’t want to talk to me.
I slumped against the wall of the town house, praying for a way to put things right. There was no way I could have gotten to Dwight’s house. Even if I had been able to convince one of my parents to drive me over while I was on punishment, I didn’t know exactly where Dwight lived. And with Ty being so pissed at me, I had zero chance of getting him to intercede on my behalf.
I started pacing again, wracking my brain, trying desperately to come up with another way of reaching Dwight. In the end, I did the only thing I could do—I went to my dad.
Dad was in the kitchen, standing over the counter by the fridge, rubbing seasonings into salmon filets with his fingers. He turned when he heard me enter, looking over his shoulder at me. “Where’s your friend?” he asked. “I thought he might be around for dinner.”
I stopped walking, feeling my chest tighten with emotion. “Dad. I messed up.”
“Yes, taking that car, driving off to Beale Street in the middle of the night wasn’t one of your brightest moves, man.” He placed the filets in a glass baking dish and began drizzling them with olive oil as he spoke. “But let’s hope you won’t be making that mistake again—”
“I don’t mean that, Dad. I messed up with Dwight.”
He looked at me again, and this time he frowned with concern. “Hold on a second.” He put down the bottle of olive oil, covered the baking dish with aluminum foil, and placed the dish in the refrigerator. Then he washed his hands at the sink and dried them. “Come here and sit down,” he said, waving me toward the table.
We pulled out chairs, sitting across from each other at the table. “Now, what happened?” Dad asked.
“I told Dwight what I did last night,” I said, feelings of remorse and worry making my hands twitch. “I told him that I went out to see a guy I met online—”
“What?” Anger flashed in Dad’s face. “Kyle, haven’t your mother and I told you time and again how dangerous that is?”
“Dad, that’s not the problem. The guy I met was more afraid of me than I was of him.”
“But what if he hadn’t been afraid? What if he was some nut who wanted to rob you or hurt you?” Dad raised his hands, shaking his head as if he couldn’t make sense of anything. “Of all the stunts you pulled yesterday, that was the worst. What the hell were you thinking, son?”
“Dad, I wasn’t thinking. Okay? I wasn’t thinking, and now I’ve hurt Dwight because I was so stupid!” My voice rose, cracking at the end.
Seeing how distraught I was, Dad reached across the table, putting his hand over mine. “Hey, calm down.”
“I don’t want to calm down!” I snapped at him, furious, yanking my hand away from his. Guilt hammered me like a fist. “I want to fix this. I want to take it all back.” My throat felt hot and my nose was starting to run. I sniffed noisily, staring hopelessly at Dad. “Dwight liked me. He said he wanted to be with me. And I like him too, only I was too stupid to see how much I really like him.”
“Okay, man. If you like him so much, why did you go running off to meet up with another guy?”
“I don’t know. Everything’s been just crazy, and last night, I was so… angry.” I paused, trying to remember exactly what I had been feeling before I grabbed the keys to the Impala and drove off in the middle of the night. “I felt so bad for Stephanie, and you… it seemed that you had just messed everything up—your life, Mom’s life, my life…. I thought Dwight was playing me, but I know now that he wasn’t. Everything was so messed up, and I only wanted to stop feeling so damn bad all the time.”
Dad nodded slowly. “You were scared. Everything around you has been changing so fast lately, and it scared you. That sent you out looking for a way to drown your pain.” He sighed, looking remorseful. “Unfortunately, you’re your father’s son. Every time life kicked me in the rear, I found my comfort in illicit sex. I was hoping you wouldn’t follow in my footsteps, but it looks as if you are.”
That scared the devil out of me. “Dad, I don’t want to be that way. I don’t want to go around hurting people like that.”
“I never wanted to hurt anyone either, but I did. I still do. Old habits die hard, I guess. When I get afraid, chasing women is like an addiction.”
“Jeez. I didn’t think you were ever afraid of anything.”
Dad gave a brief, bitter laugh. “Son, the first time I cheated on your mother was when we found out she was pregnant with you. We had barely been married three months. I was a year out of college and could not find a job anywhere. Your mom was interning at the Commercial Appeal, which barely paid enough to support two people and definitely would not support three. So there I was, with a new wife and a baby on the way and no job. I had no idea how I was going to take care of a family. And I was scared to death.”
I stared at him, dazed by the revelation, my mouth hanging open.
“I went out on what seemed like my one-hundredth job interview, and I knew before it was over that I would not be getting hired. I walked out of that office wanting to cry. On the bus ride home, this pretty little gal smiled at me, and before I knew it, we were going at it in her little apartment barely a mile away from where your mom and I lived.”
What he described seemed very close to the situation I was in last night. “Wow,” I breathed.
“Yeah, wow. Damn it, I can’t seem to break that routine, son, even now. I wanted your mother back. For a long time after I moved out, I believed she and I weren’t done. I just didn’t think it was over… until I started hearing about that Reece guy.”
For maybe a second there was a wounded look in Dad’s eyes, and I felt another stab of guilt. He had heard about Reece from me. Not that I was trying to report on Mom or anything. It had bugged me when she started going out with Reece, when so much of her time at home was spent on the phone with him, and I had complained to Dad about feeling abandoned. It was only now that I understood how hearing about Reece had hurt Dad.
“By the way, it sounds as if your mom is really crazy about him,” Dad went on, his jovial mask locking firmly in place. “He must be a great guy.”
“Nah,” I replied with something just shy of a sneer. “He’s nothing special.”
Dad’s smile got a little wider, and a bit sadder. “Well. She’s moved on, and this time I know she is not coming back, and that hurts. So I cheated on Stephanie trying to stop that hurt. All those months I waited for your mom to take me back, I never realized how good Stephanie is for me, or how much she really means to me. And now it looks as if I might have lost Stephanie for good too.”
There was a sudden, single, stinging burst of pain in my chest. It radiated outward, filling my entire body and paralyzing me for a moment with an aching regret. I looked into my father’s eyes, and for the first time, I saw the depth of his pain. “Dad, I’m sorry.” The tears started, rolling down my cheeks and dripping off my chin. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry I was so mean to you….”
He got up, came over, and put his arms around me. “It’s all right, son. It’s all right. I’m sorry too. I don’t want to see you make the mistakes I’ve made when it comes to the love in your life.” He held me tightly against his chest. It had been close to eight years since I had wept in front of him. I was grateful that he was there, as he always had been for me.
Once the tears stopped, he let me go and stood up again. He clapped me on the shoulder. “I could use some coffee,” he said. “How about you?”
“Yeah. I’ll have some, thanks.”
 
; We were quiet as he made a pot of coffee. I didn’t really like coffee; it was bitter, even with milk and sugar. But I felt utterly drained at that moment, and I figured I could do with a good jolt of caffeine. Once the coffee was ready, Dad filled two cups and we sat at the table, drinking in silence for a few moments, each taking comfort in the other’s presence.
My mind drifted back to Dwight, and the angst began ratcheting its way up through my chest again. I sighed and looked up at Dad. “How can I fix things with Dwight?” I asked hopelessly. “He won’t talk to me. The last time I tried to call him, he turned his phone off.”
“Give him time,” Dad said. “Let him have some space. He’s probably pretty pissed with you right now. You have to let him cool off and work through what he’s feeling. Maybe then you’ll be able to talk to him. In the meantime, you work on forgiving yourself.”
It would be a long time before I let myself off the hook. But in that moment, I had finally forgiven my dad.
SHORTLY after dinner that evening, as I lay on my bed reading, someone moved into my open doorway and waited. I figured it was Dad, but when I looked over at the door, I saw Ty standing there.
With his hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulders hunched defensively, he was clearly uneasy. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Your dad let me in. Man. Now I know where you get all that height.”
I pushed myself up in bed, propping my back against the headboard. “What’re you doing here?”
Ty stepped into the room and sat on the end of my bed. “I think I owe you an apology.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. You haven’t exactly been one of my favorite people the past few days—”
I forged a tired smile. “No fooling.”
He didn’t let my interruption faze him. “I’m sorry I got mad at you over all that stuff with Carla. I really thought you had it in for her. Turns out she’s the one who had it in for you.”