I exhaled slowly and leaned against the dining room table near the window. “You won’t be taking advantage of me. I welcome it.” I lifted my arms, as if expecting him to embrace me. “I won’t hate you in the morning if we end up fu—”
“Stop.” He held up his hand. “What we may end up having together will be more than a one-night thing. I’ve had one too many of them in my life. I want something real, to hold on to with another person.”
The tension in my stomach popped and disappeared. “Could this something real be me?”
“Maybe.” He settled on the couch with both arms spread along the back. “I’m in a good place with my life. Maybe it has to do with the experiences I’ve had and my age. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you have a lot of growing up to still do.”
“I’m nineteen! Legal in every sense of the word.”
“True, but your age doesn’t mean maturity. Now before you get upset, I do think you have it together even if you and your mom don’t get along and….” He went to lift his leg to cross it over the other but then dropped it down. He also pulled on a string sticking out of the couch. “Everything that happened to you in the spring at college. You act like it’s no big deal and ignore it, but it’s not working. You’ve shut down, become numb.”
“Oh, come on.” I slapped the dining room table behind me. “I’m not in the mood for this. I have enough people psychoanalyzing me, like Theo, the guy at the club, who acts like he wants to save me but doesn’t put enough effort into it, to my mother who just wants to look good to her adoring public so she can make big money on some sketchy cable news channel.” I rapped the table again, this time with a fist, letting my knuckles sting. “No one knows what I’m going through and how I’m dealing with it—”
“I know,” he said softly, but forcefully enough that I paused. He braced his elbows on his knees and set his folded hands under his chin. The warm light I always saw in his eyes left and his eyebrows came together, causing lines to deepen in his forehead.
“I’ve experienced the same range of emotions you have and cursed the ‘thoughts and prayers’ from others who couldn’t stop the pain… the survivor’s guilt.” He exhaled hard and tugged on his bottom lip. “There was a shooting at my high school my senior year. It wasn’t as bad as yours, and I feel stupid for bringing it up because out of all the other shootings, it’s not as bad as the rest.”
I moved back to the couch, and his side, placing my hand on his back, much like he did to me minutes ago. “Don’t say that. Any type of shooting at a school or elsewhere is horrendous. What school?”
“Does it matter? It didn’t get much national media attention, just local. It wasn’t a mass shooting. Only one person died.”
“One person getting killed is just as horrible as twelve.” I slid my arm around his shoulder and fell into his side.
“No one cares if only one person is shot.” He pressed his thumbs in the middle of his forehead. “Even if it’s a girl. Her name was Margot, and she was shot in the head. The guy who did it was obsessed with her. He followed her to the bathroom and killed her. He also shot a teacher in the hallway when he came out of the bathroom. I-I was just entering one of the classrooms when I saw the asshole shoot the teacher.” He lowered his head farther in his hands, and I clutched him tighter. “I froze instead of running or hiding inside the room. The shooter saw me and saluted me with the gun, and walked away without a care in the world. The cops found him in the gym, waiting.”
“Oh God.” I hid my face in the crook of his neck. “What happened to your teacher?”
“He lived and still teaches there.” He started to rock. “The shooter got life in prison and Margot has a scholarship in her name. I don’t know why he didn’t shoot me. He could have, but he didn’t. Why—” He lifted his head, showing me his red-tinged, watering eyes. “Why did he let me live? Why was Margot expendable in his eyes but I wasn’t? Just because I was a stranger to him, a nobody?”
My eyes stung as they began to water. “To that person you might not matter, but you do matter. You’re important to so many people.”
He let out a few chuckles. “You sound like an inspiration quote. Just made it up?”
“It just came out.” I wiped under my eyes. I would never live it down if he saw me crying. “Um… do you hate the guy who killed Margot and hurt your teacher?”
He grabbed his water bottle and drank. “Everyone expected me to, but I didn’t. I was angry at what he did, but I didn’t wish him dead.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I couldn’t hate him because it would eat me alive, and I would be in an entirely different world of hurt. I definitely wouldn’t be here with you now.” He jiggled his bottle. “I wish this was a beer or a good shot of whiskey. I have some in the kitchen but I might not stop after one.”
I rubbed his back, hoping to relax him. “Did you use alcohol to help you… recover from the shooting?”
He finished his water and crushed the bottle in his fist. “No to booze or drugs. My parents were there to help me, and I talked to a therapist until I graduated. It helped a lot.”
“You went to therapy?” I didn’t want to ask because of my personal issue with it, but it had to be said.
“Yeah.” He dropped his hand on my leg. “It’s only been a few months, but what do you do to help you get through the day? You were in a worse situation than I was. How is therapy for you?”
I clenched his shoulder and rested my chin on his arm, now holding him more for my comfort than his. “I don’t go to therapy… yet. It’s something I’m not comfortable with. I’m still trying to work through things on my own, mainly my relationship with the shooter.” I wanted to tell Benny everything about the day in the library and the days after. How John had turned my life upside down but I didn’t hate him for what he did. It made me feel better to know Benny and I shared something in common. We didn’t carry hate in our hearts.
He straightened and twisted toward me. He cupped the side of my face, his thumb stroking under my ear, which made me fall into him more. My fall was something I didn’t have control over, and I didn’t really care.
“Marshall, I can’t compare to what a professional can do for you, but if you need to talk, I’m willing to listen. You’re one of the few people who know about my high school shooting because I trust you.” His thumb made its way to the corner of my mouth. “I want you to trust me.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust you.” I gripped his wrist, swiping my thumb on the inside where his pulse thumped his skin.
“Trust is very important to me. It looks like the same for you. Maybe it’s why we get along so well together.” He stroked my lips, making me moan. “At first I thought it was just attraction, but it’s something more.”
“I feel the same as you do. So, where do we go from here?” I ran my thumb on the inside of his wrist, enjoying how his breathing grew heavier. If he was going to play with me, then I would do the same with him.
“I want to be more than just friends with you.”
“Me too.” I leaned into him and kissed him.
He smiled against my mouth. “I think it’s time we toured my bedroom, unless you want to stay here?”
I stilled my mouth on his. He was giving me a choice. But I didn’t want him to think I was fragile and he should continue to be cautious with me. I wanted him to take what he wanted. I wanted him to take me, to help me go numb but in another way that would help me find relief.
“Let’s go.” Still holding his wrist, I tugged him up from the couch and led him down the hall.
Chapter Fifteen
I SAT up in my bed, thrown out of my sleep because I couldn’t breathe. My heartbeat slammed my chest and my head throbbed. Gripping the sheets, I gulped in some deep inhales and tried to focus. I was safe. I was in my bedroom, and it was just a nightmare. As my dream vanished from memory, the sensation of being punched and the stench of blood remained. I knocked aside the sheets and threw my legs over the s
ide of my bed. My T-shirt was drenched with sweat, and my bullet wound itched like hell.
It had been a while since my last nightmare. The last one was when I first came home from the hospital and Dad rushed into my room because I was yelling. What in the hell had brought this on now?
I closed my eyes and waited for my heart to slow and my breath to even out. My head still felt heavy, and I was tempted to lie back down. But if I did, I wouldn’t get up, and it had to be late. I had gotten home around one in the morning, and the way I’d slept the past few months, I wouldn’t be surprised if I slept until noon. I opened one eye to check the time on my digital clock on the nightstand. It was 10:30 a.m. So not too late, but I got enough sleep.
I let out a yawn and stretched my arms above my head. Now, with the nightmare behind me and my body returning to normal, I actually felt pretty good. More than good. I could thank Benny for that. Thoughts of him made me check my cell. I had turned down my ringer so not to interrupt my sleep. He had texted me an hour ago.
Loved hanging out with you last night. If you’re not too busy today, stop by the gym later this afternoon and we can do some boxing.
I’ll see you later. I added a thumbs-up emoji at the end of the sentence. My day was wide open and I would love to do some sparring with him. I wouldn’t have minded seeing him sooner, but I didn’t want to crowd him too much. I still wanted to give him some space, so he wouldn’t getting tired of me too soon.
I grabbed my swimming trunks as I headed to the bathroom. I’d do some laps in the pool. Before I took a piss, I checked my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Great. There was a big enough bruise on the side of my neck. Benny had left it there, including one on my shoulder, right above my wound. I smiled back while I traced the hickey on my shoulder, for once not concentrating on my gunshot wound. I could thank him for something else. He made me forget, if only for a short time, the damage another person had left behind physically. Eventually the emotional and mental would follow.
I LOST myself in the pool. I swam as many laps as I could while the radio blared. I had the pool to myself since Dad had gone to breakfast with Ms. Barnet. I hoped he would return when I was with Benny so I wouldn’t have to answer any questions he might have about last night.
I swam through the hurt, ignoring the stinging inside my lungs and the burning in my arms and thighs. But my mind was clear, like it used to be when I swam. I didn’t want this feeling to end.
I’d just reached the end of the pool and was ready to turn when the radio cut off and I heard my name. I took off my goggles. Both Charlie and Arielle stood there.
“Hey, ladies, what are you doing here?” It had been a while since they both visited unannounced. Not that I minded because it had been the norm when I was in high school.
“You weren’t answering your phone.” Charlie grabbed Arielle’s hand as she bent to my level. “It’s probably blowing up by now.”
“Why would it be blowing up?” I splashed water on my face and head.
“That’s why we stopped by, to check on you.” Arielle waved at me to get out. “Where’s your dad?”
“Out with a friend.” I moved to the stairs and walked out of the pool.
Charlie took my towel off one of the chairs and tossed it to me. She then took my phone. “Before I give you your phone, you should dry off and sit down.”
I wiped off my face and hair and held the towel to my chest. “Why are you acting weird? What’s going on?”
Arielle came to my side and grabbed my hands. “Sit.” She pushed me on the lounger and sat in front of me. Charlie sat in the lounger next to mine.
Arielle’s hand-holding and Charlie’s worried expression made my gut twist. Something bad must have happened to make them come here. Also Charlie not letting me have my phone was enough proof that some sort of text or voice message had been left.
“You’re both scaring me.” I drew my hands away from Arielle and left the towel on my lap. I wiggled my fingers at Charlie. “Phone.”
“I want to protect you, like I wish I had someone to protect me when my world fell apart.” She set my phone in my lap and made room for Arielle to sit next to her.
Now I was getting really freaked out. “Did someone die?”
The two shared uncomfortable looks and nodded.
“Who?” I scrolled through my texts. There were a few from Theo telling him to call me, and even Shiri… whoa, telling me to do the same to her. There were also two missed calls from Mom and two voice messages from Charlie.
Charlie wrapped her arms around her waist while Arielle held her. “Theo called Arielle when he couldn’t get in touch with you. He has news the shooter from NCU is in a coma.”
“John in a coma? How?” The words fell out of my mouth as I tried to digest what she just said.
“He was attacked in prison last night. Beaten to a pulp. They’re not sure if he’s going to make it.” She grabbed my arm. “That’s not the only reason we’re here. Something more was revealed, and it has to do with you.”
“Because of his interview?” I wanted to lie down but I didn’t want to worry the girls.
“It’s something he didn’t mention in the article that might have the press showing up on your doorstep soon. If Theo knows, you sure as hell can bet other reporters also know.” Arielle stared at me in confusion, something I never associated with her. For her to show such raw emotion, it meant something really bad had happened and I didn’t think it had to do with John in a coma.
“Stop delaying. Tell me.” I turned to them both, bringing us all in a snug circle.
“It hasn’t been confirmed but letters were found in his cell. He was writing to one of his victims.” Charlie squeezed my arm hard. “It’s you. He was writing to you, and you wrote him back.”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I tried to answer her, but I couldn’t. If I did, I would admit my darkest secret I had kept from everyone. But I was saved, given a reprieve. Theo arrived unannounced. Unlike their concern, he looked livid, and it was aimed at me.
THEO AND me sat at the patio table while Arielle and Charlie made lunch inside. It was their excuse to get me and Theo to talk. Not that we were doing much talking. Just staring at each other. Every so often his cell would ping, and mine would ring. Mom kept calling. I ignored it because I couldn’t deal with her. I also wanted to wait for Dad. Even with my friends here, I wanted my father. He would know what to do because I didn’t have any clue what my next step would be.
“This is the most people I’ve had at my house in months. I wonder when Jo is going to stop by,” I joked without much humor, glancing at the sliding glass doors and into the kitchen, where Charlie and Arielle made sandwiches and whatever else they could find for us to eat.
“She’ll come soon, along with your dad and my mom.” Theo ran his fingers through his hair and then stopped. He rapped his fist on the table, making me jump. “I can’t sit here and act like everything is normal. Is it true about the letters?”
“Are you asking as my friend or as a reporter hoping to get an exclusive that will help you get a better-paying job?” I wrapped my towel around myself, wishing I had a T-shirt to wear.
“Dammit, Marsh… all. As your friend. Whatever you think, I’m your friend. I have been since you were nine,” he spat, his anger tangible as it ever had been.
“When did you realize we were friends? You may have been nice to me at school and acted like you were my friend, but we both you know you weren’t.”
I really didn’t find any joy in his stunned and hurt expression. I also couldn’t say if this was yet another example of his many theatrics. When his feelings were involved, he liked to show them to get a certain response. It used to work on me, but no longer.
“That’s not true!” He jabbed the table with his finger. “I always introduced you as my friend, and we hung out many times—”
“We always hung out in groups. You never asked to hang out, just the two of us, not even when my dad and your mo
m started dating.” My voice shook as my anger grew. “After you graduated high school, you barely went out of your way to talk to me unless you saw me in town. And then when I went away to NCU, you never called me back and didn’t respond to my texts.”
“I was busy.” He raised his hand, frustration covering his face. “I was working two jobs and barely had time to sleep—”
“You always make excuses. You blew me off when I saw you the day I came back for winter break. Do you remember?”
“I—” Realization came to his eyes. “You stopped by the radio station, which I found strange because you never did before. But then I thought you were just saying hello because you weren’t sure if we would see one another because of the holidays.”
“See, that’s one of your problems. You assume things. You assume you know me well enough to know how I act and why. You never knew me at all.” I cut my gaze away from him.
“Why are you angry at me?”
“I’m more disappointed than anything. I fooled myself into believing something that was never there.” I sniffed, a sign my emotions were going to get the best of me. I refused to break down in front of him. “It was my fault I felt that way, because you were the reason I came out.”
“Huh?”
I closed my eyes, losing myself in the memory of the realization I was gay because of my attraction to Theo. It wasn’t one of confusion and fear but something wonderful and incredible because it made me feel so alive. “A few months before my tenth birthday, I began having these strange reactions. I guess you could say it was because of puberty. I finally figured out why I had hot flashes and other embarrassing bodily responses. It was always after I saw you. I knew then I was gay. My feelings for you made me come out to my parents.”
“Marshall, I never knew.” The wonder in his voice made me smile, but it wasn’t one of happiness.
Let Me Live Page 14