The Boy Who Knew Me When (From Boys to men Trilogy)

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The Boy Who Knew Me When (From Boys to men Trilogy) Page 8

by Bostick, J. L.


  “How did you know?” I asked Brea who had not moved an inch in the five minutes I stood in the bathroom doorway trying to figure out how she deciphered that I was no longer taking the lithium; I’d only missed two weeks.

  I had completely forgotten about the screams coming from my bedroom as I stepped into the shower. The shouting most likely meant that Brea caught Axel with his pants down. Sometimes I forgot that she was skilled at picking locks. A talent she felt the need to become skilled in the first time I locked myself in my room and refused to open to the door to anyone and everyone, including her.

  “How did I know?” She asked in a manner that suggested I was a complete moron. “Don’t tell me you have already gone that far into the deep, because I watched you take it a few weeks ago.”

  I took a step forward but failed to manage another before I sat down right where I stood pulling my knees up, resting my chin atop them and throwing my hands over my head. I felt the floor bounce as Brea marched over to me and bent down resting her head on top of my forearm.

  “Oh babe, please do not put yourself through this again. Axel told me you threw yourself at him. Locked him in the room and practically raped him.”

  I jerked my head up almost head-butting her in the chin at the accusation of raping Axel, who had barely put up a fight.

  “Chill out,” she said practically. “I am not so stupid as to think he ever actually fought you off his pecker. But I know you and I know that seeing Ford there with that woman sent you over the edge. I also know how you choose to self medicate when the pain comes. You know Brandon is going to kick his teeth in right?”

  My eyes widened at the thought of Brandon finding out that I had seduced his best friend. In all of the years I was with him I never once needed anyone else. When I was hurting he always soothed the ache, most of the time without ever touching me because just being around him made me feel alive. Of course I was also seeing a shrink and heavily medicated, rarely missing a dose the entire four years we were together.

  Brea jumped up from the floor like her pants had caught on fire.

  “Fucking Axel! He of all people should know better! I tell you what, that son of a bitch’s face is going to be black and blue for the next month because I kicked his fucking ass and to tell you the Goddamn truth I should kick yours too!”

  I lowered my head wiping the tears from my eyes.

  “I’m so sorry Brea. I stopped taking them a week and a half ago. I just wanted to be able to start off college with all of my fucking head in one place. You know what the meds do to me. It takes everything I have in me just to have to even remotely feel normal on that shit. I felt ready to be without them, ready to finally feel normal on my own. I just never anticipated anything like Julian coming back into the picture. I fucked up, I know I did!” I buried my face back to my knees and started uncontrollably sobbing. I whispered into my knees behind the tears, “Please, Brandon cannot know what I have done. It will break his heart, Brea.” I could not stop the tears from falling.

  “Sorry babe, too late. I called him while you were in the shower. I had no clue what to do. You scared the flying fuck out of me!”

  The news revealing that Brandon knew everything caused the sobbing to turn into all-out hysterical wailing. How could she go to him without asking me? I don’t give a damn how helpless she felt.

  “Come on babe.” I felt Brea’s arm loop under my right side as she helped me to my feet.

  I woke up what felt like only a few minutes later in my bed, dressed in a nightgown with a massive headache. There were voices coming from the other side of the bedroom door but they were practically whispering, other than Brea I was not exactly sure who the other voice was coming from until the door to my room opened and Brandon appeared in the doorway. He stood there for a few minutes looking like total shit, just staring at me.

  If I did not know better I would say he had been crying. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy and his cheeks were red. Moving his hands to his lips Brandon let out a sigh. I could tell he was at war with himself over how to deal with me but in the end his love for the girl I could have been won him over. He walked over to the side of the bed, shrugged off his shoes and climbed in under the covers next to me.

  “Roll over baby.” Brandon whispered into my ear lightly nudging my body to the side, facing the opposite direction of him. I did as he asked, selfishly needing to be rescued by the man whose heart I had broken far too many times. He put his arms around my waist and kissed the top of my head resting his on the spot where he kissed.

  “I love you so much Jemma, please don’t fall apart on me. You promised not to leave me.” I cried into his arms.

  I was so far from deserving anybody as good as Brandon that it was ridiculous. He was too perfect for even the most perfect person, and I was far from being perfect. Yet here he was, holding me, taking in my pain and making it his own.

  Wait.....he is here, WHY is he here? HOW is he here? He isn’t here I silently told myself, you are finally going completely and totally insane. I snuggled deeper into the arms of my delusion and drifted off to sleep. Unfortunately I woke up hours later face to face with the same delusion.

  How could I forgotten how breathtaking he was? It had only been a few months since we were last together but I swear he had grown even further away from the boy I had fallen head over heels for so long ago. His jaw line had become more defined, his eyes were slightly larger, his hair silkier and his hands, one of which was resting on my cheek even though he was sound asleep, were even more beautiful than I had remembered. He was so astonishingly gorgeous and unreal that I had little doubt as to whether or not he was here, so I leaned in and placed a soft kiss upon his lips. Still lost in sleep his lips began to move with mine, possessing every inch they were willing to give to him. When his eyes opened up and locked with mine he pulled away sending my heart into a panic. Why was my delusion not playing along?

  “No baby, we can’t, I won’t.”

  A tear fell from his face as if rejecting me was tearing him apart and then I realized the man lying next to me was even more real than last I saw him.

  “You’re really here?” I asked placing my hand below his eye wiping the stray tear away.

  “As real as you are baby. Please don’t kiss me again, I couldn’t handle it.”

  His expression was pained and serious. How is it even remotely possible for someone as amazing as Brandon not be a figment of my imagination?

  “What are you doing here, Brandon?” I asked.

  “Brea called. She told me you stopped taking the lithium. I have a few days before classes start and since I had the time I thought I would come see you. Though, I would have come regardless.”

  I was such a horrible person. Had only I continued on my meds everything would not be such a mess right now and Brandon would never have picked up and ran to his falling apart ex girlfriend. This is exactly what happened to my father. He thought he could deal so he stopped taking his medication and bam, he lost it.

  “I wish you hadn’t come, but I am glad you are here. I missed you.” He smiled at me and moved a stray hair back behind my ear. “What did she tell you? Brea, what did she tell you?”

  He pulled a deep breath into his chest and slowly exhaled. “Are you asking me if she told me about that Julian Ford guy or if she told me you let my best friend climb inside of you without even a moments thought?”

  I closed my eyes and cringed as a shiver made its way up my spine. He had taken my breath away and I had no idea how to respond, I was sure he hated me. How could he not when even I hated me?

  “I don’t hate you if that’s what you are thinking. I could never hate you Jem. Sand, remember? Yet I just keep coming back for more.” He joked placing his hand over his heart.

  I laughed at his morbid sense of humor jabbing him in the arm. “JERK!” I laughed.

  “Ow! You have to be careful with me baby, I’m sensitive, as delicate as a yellow rose.” He paused softly smiling, “What time
do you normally take your pill?” he asked.

  I knew it was too good to be true. Even after he assured me he was real I still tried to convince myself he was a delusion for fear reality would come back and clobber me in the face just like Brea had done to Axel.

  I leaned over Brandon’s shoulder to get a glance of the clock on the night stand behind him. “Usually around seven, or shall I say about twenty minutes ago.” I said lying my head back down on my pillow.

  “Well, what do yah say we mosey on out of this room? You take your pill and I will scrounge up some breakfast. Brea said she baked cookies and that I was to get them into you STAT.”

  Regardless of the fact that all I wanted to do was lay in my bed with Brandon for the rest of my life, never having to face the reality that my shell had cracked, I got up with him. I took my pill like a good little girl and ate a stack of chocolate chip cookies soothing the ache in my heart that had returned when reality set in.

  “So, tell me about him?” I looked up at Brandon with half a cookie in my mouth.

  “Axel? I am pretty sure you don’t want the sordid details of that disaster.” Brandon’s lips puckered up as if he had bit into a lemon and he closed his eyes.

  “Not Axel, Jem, him, your brother’s friend, the guy Brea seems to think you are in love with.”

  I put down the cookie that was in my hand. Was I in love with Julian, Ford, after only knowing him a little while? Because at this very moment I was sure I loved Brandon. True, my heart was throbbing at the thought of sharing Ford with Brandon. It was also throbbing for the fact that Ford felt just as dead to me now as Nicolai and my mother, but was I in love with him?

  I could not bear the thought of watching Brandon leave again. Watching him go the first time made me wish I would just die so that I didn’t have to fight this cruel fucking world without him. He was always my knight in shining armor, the prince in all of the fairy tales I read as a child. The first time I fooled around with Axel I was just a confused young girl. I had a hard time understanding why I turned to him when Brandon was not there. If I loved Brandon so much why couldn’t I manage to be without him for more than a few hours and still be faithful?

  During my weekly therapy session, Dr. Schneider, who had been my diagnosing psychiatrist, asked me if I could see myself functioning without Brandon. I contemplated the question for a long time, trying to will the answer to change based on the different scenarios he was offering me, but it always remained the same, there was no way that I could. He later asked me if I thought my feelings were love or if I had just grown to need him because he allowed himself to be there, if perhaps he could have been anyone. I refused to answer. I knew that I loved him, I wasn’t sure the depth of that love but I was positive that there was love in my heart for him.

  By the end of the session Dr. Schneider had explained that he felt as if I had allowed myself to grow mentally attached to Brandon because he was so willing, basically because he was an easy target. He said that he thought Brandon had become my crutch, an appendage that wasn’t really necessary but I insisted on having around for fear of falling. When my crutch left my side I fell to the ground, thus explaining my behavior with his best friend, it was me latching on to the closest thing. He explained that until I learned to let go of him I would never truly understand the depth of my feelings, I might not actually love him at all. That was the last time I visited the great Dr. Schneider.

  I never shared the doctors thoughts with anyone for fear that saying them out loud might actually make them true. Would he tell me the same thing about Ford? I didn’t want to know. Of course it no longer mattered because Ford was no longer available to me. I am not so sure he never was.

  Chapter Seven

  Julian

  She was gone. One minute she was standing right in front of me looking sexy as hell and the next minute she had left me standing alone unable to explain myself. I told Heather coming here would be a bad idea but she insisted on it, promising that she would be completely hands off. I should have known she was full of shit. She usually was.

  We broke up two months ago after I went home for a few weeks and found out she was slutting around with Benicio the guy who mowed her dad’s lawn once a week. I don’t put up with that kind of shit. Once a girl decides to be with me I expect them to be with me and only me.

  My gran had practically begged me to fly with Heather back to Austin where she’d decided to transfer after years of studying at home. I knew she was only moving here to be near me but she was a grown woman and there was nothing I could do about it. The only reason I agreed was because gran feared for her safety.

  “A pretty girl should never fly alone Ford, there are all kinds of deviants out there just waiting to get their hands on someone like her.” she argued.

  I never told her what happened between me and Heather, I knew that it would break her heart, she truly loved the girl.

  When Heather decided she wanted to leave San Juan early, I was not going to argue with her. I had filled out all of the required paperwork at home health and they had someone coming out to help gran starting Monday morning so I was free to head back. The plan was to drop Heather off at her sisters and head straight over to Jemma’s apartment. She had been all I could think about for the last 24 hours and all I wanted was to crawl back to her and figure out what this thing was between us. But after hearing about the Omega Pledge BBQ, Heather asked that I drop her off there, which later turned into “Walk me in.” The only reason I caved was because as President I figured it might be best if I at least made an appearance. Boy was I wrong.

  I never thought it was possible that Jemma and I would ever cross paths again. Over the years I had wanted to visit her family more times than I could count. I’d even been back once or twice while gran and I sold off the old house but guilt plagued me and I never gathered the courage to visit the Hales.

  There were days that I wished I would have just let Nick have the fucking eraser he tried to steal from me in Kindergarten. Perhaps we would have never become friends and at the very least Mr. And Mrs. Hale would not have lost a son. I could only imagine how horribly they had suffered the loss. I can only imagine that losing a child is one of the worse things that could ever happen to a person. Kids were destined to eventually lose a parent but a parent should never have to mourn their child. How could they not blame me for the pain inflicted on them? I was the boy who lived and I hated myself for it.

  I remember the events of that horrific day as if they happened yesterday. We were sitting in a middle booth, laughing and carrying on about the fact that Nick was too scared to take a photo with Bugs Bunny during our trip to Six Flags. He downright refused to go anywhere near the seven foot rabbit. “Rabbits should never grow that big! He will probably try to eat me for killing his cousins.” he joked, however I knew that he was completely serious. As buff and tough as Nick pretended to be I knew he was still just a kid.

  His dad had taught him how to shoot the day he turned five and several times a year they would both go hunting for some kind of animal or bird. I had always wanted to trail along but my dad had a “No guns around kids” rule that he stuck by at all costs. Even so, he never turned down the side of deer meat Mr. Hale gave up because between the hogs, quail, deer and rabbit they never had room for more than half of their kill in the deep freeze. Since my dad was Mr. Hale’s closest friend we also got the freezer overflow which usually included a little bit of everything else.

  I loved Mr. Hale, where my dad was smart and level headed, Mr. Hale was resourceful and wise. I turned to him all things related to sports and outdoors because he always had the best answers. My dad would usually just shrug his shoulders and say “Ask your mom, kid.” As if my mother would know anything about jock straps.

  No more than two minutes after we all calmed down from poking fun at Nick, who laughed right along with us, a man bolted through the front door screaming “Where is that bitch! Janet fucking Cardenas. Where is she?” He wasn’t shouting to anyone
in particular, I guess he was just shouting to be shouting. I remember thinking about how funny the man looked. His legs were spread apart in an odd gape, he was bald and he was abnormally short. The long black trench coat he was wearing no doubt made him look shorter than he actually was. He reminded me a little bit of The Penguin from Batman.

  He turned into the restaurant and found his intended target sitting about three tables over to our right. He ran to her , jerking her up out of the seat by the hair of her head and began shouting at her in Spanish while she begged and pleaded for mercy. After slapping her a few times he pulled out a small revolver and shot the man who had been sitting beside her in the booth before turning the gun on her. The man in the booth had never moved an inch from his seat.

  I remember everything else in slow motion. He started shooting wildly, emptying the rest of the bullets from the revolver into ordinary unsuspecting patrons before getting to our booth. My mother had her hand out in front of me trying to shield me; my dad was shielding Nick with his entire body. They were both pleading with him, “Please, not the children.” my dad begged and my mom over run with tears was crying to him “Don’t hurt my babies! Do anything you want to me but please don’t hurt my babies!” Every word out of their mouths seems to fuel the demon lurking inside of him more and more. He dropped the empty gun and pulled a larger one out of his coat. He shot my dad first, once, twice through the head, then my mom. I was too caught up watching my dad fall over halfway onto the floor to notice where those bullets went. I later found out he shot her dead, straight between her eyes.

  Then he moved the gun on me. I remember opening up my mouth to ask him not to hurt me but when I saw death in his eyes I knew there was no point in giving him the satisfaction of listening to me beg, so I just closed my eyes and waited. Before I ever realized what was happening, Nick had turned my direction and threw himself on top of me. The bullet hit his face first, caught him mid air. It went straight through him, piercing me in the right arm. And the second bullet, fired consecutively, hit him directly in the middle of his stomach. That bullet also went straight through and hit me in the leg. Both of us lay on the seat of the booth bleeding to death.

 

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