“I told you, I’m just not in love with her. I don’t know what makes a person fall in love with one person and not another. She’s cute, she’s a great kisser, we get along but it’s just not there. I mean, what about how you felt about Sherrie?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you really like her, right? She’s really pretty and you like spending time with her. I can tell by watching you that you genuinely like her…but you’re not in love with her are you?” I shake my head.
“I liked kissing her too. It was nothing like kissing Holly. That was just bad. It wasn’t like kissing Tabitha, that was kinda scary. It was just…nice.”
“But you didn’t FEEL anything more, did you? That’s how I feel about Tabitha. I can’t explain it. Maybe it’s chemistry.”
“So, does your dad know about any of this? I mean, what does he think?” I can’t imagine a tough guy like Mark being okay with a son that kisses boys and girls alike. I really don’t think I can handle it if he knows Max kissed me.
“He knows about me. I’ve never felt the need to hide it but I never said anything to him about you. I’m not sure why. I mean, I’ve been talking to him about this stuff since I was thirteen. Maybe I didn’t tell him because he’s friends with your parents. Maybe I was just too embarrassed with myself over the way I handled it. Maybe I was afraid he’d wonder about those nights you stayed overnight. I don’t really know.
“He was raised in a very strict household. His dad was really strict and over the top religious. He would have hated someone like me. My dad hasn’t spoken to him in years.
“My dad had an older brother who was also in the military. He was married right out of high school. He told my dad when he was younger that he thought he might be gay but their dad would have disowned him for that. He did his best to try to be what their dad wanted. He served his country. He married the girl he dated in high school. He went to church every Sunday. He was never happy.”
“You say had?”
“He died before my mom and dad met. They ruled it an accidental overdose, a combination of the wrong drugs. My dad has always wondered about that though. So when I first came to him about Nick he swore he would do better by me than his own dad. He’s been a great dad because he’s used the way he was raised as an example of what kind of father he doesn’t want to be.”
“Everything about you is so much more interesting than me,” I didn’t mean to say it out loud but there goes my brain again, acting on its own. Max laughs.
“You’re interesting too you just have such a lack of self-confidence that you don’t see it.” I drain the last of my hot chocolate and shiver. My face is numb and talking is starting to feel like when you have novocaine. “We should get going before BOTH of us get sick,” Max says.
We fold up the sleeping bags and repack the backpack. I put it on my back because I’m not the one that was just in the hospital. We don’t talk as we climb the rocks that lead out of the room behind the falls. When we get to the top the sun is shining. Max looks at the lake. It’s iced over again and there’s no evidence of where he fell.
“I don’t know why I love this place,” he says. “I think it might kill me one day.” We don’t attempt to walk across the lake. I don’t think Max will ever walk across it again no matter how thick the ice appears. When we get upstream the rocks we have to use to get across are slick but we make it across. We’re both quiet until we get in the car and crank the heat.
“So it’s up to you,” Max says as he starts driving.
“What’s up to me?”
“If you can deal with all of that. If you still want to be friends. I understand if you don’t. I won’t lie. It will suck if you don’t but I’ll respect your decision.”
How do I explain to him that he means more to me than probably anyone besides my parents? How do I explain to him that thoughts of him fill that secret compartment of my brain? How can I explain to myself why that even IS? I can stress over it. I can panic over it. I can ignore it. I don’t do any of those things. Instead I try to follow some advice that Dr. Bachman always tried to get me to follow. I decide to just take it as it comes and not overthink it.
“Max, you’re still my best friend,” I say and it’s enough. For now.
****
Another school week starts out much better than the entire previous month. Max asked me if I wanted a ride to school on Monday but I figure it’s probably best just to go with my mom. She’s going to start working at the junior high in a couple of weeks anyway so it just makes sense to keep riding with her.
Chemistry is much better than it has been now that Max is back and now that we’re friends again. It’s not until Max and I are walking to lunch that I see the problem. I have to stop at the nurse’s office to take my Xanax and Max and I are heading for our lockers.
“I just remembered something,” I tell Max after I drop off my books. “I’ll be right there.”
“You aren’t going to the auditorium are you?”
“No, I just have to go do something. You go on and I’ll meet you there,” I say as Tabitha joins us. Max hesitates then smiles.
“If you aren’t there in ten minutes I’m coming to the auditorium,” he says as he ruffles Tabitha’s hair and kisses the top of her head.
I rush to the nurse and take my meds. I ask her if it’s okay for me to come after lunch from now on. If I leave lunch early I won’t even be an hour late taking them. At first she doesn’t seem agreeable to that but then she says that’s fine. Problem solved.
When I get to the cafeteria I almost wish I had gone to the auditorium. It seems that Max’s near death experience has made him a celebrity. There’s a constant rotation of people I’ve never met coming to say hi and offer their congratulations and best wishes and what not. One girl in particular seems friendlier than the rest. I’ve never seen her before today.
She’s around five seven and athletically thin and she’s absolutely beautiful. Her blonde hair is cut in a chunky, messy bob and her blue eyes are a shade darker than Max’s. When she smiles it’s like a toothpaste commercial. She’s talking animatedly to Max when I sit down at the table a few seats away next to Tabitha and Darcy. I look over at Tabitha who is scowling at them.
“Who is that?” I say when Tabitha notices me.
“Mischa Mallory,” Tabitha says with a fake gagging noise. “She was Michelle Mallory until ninth grade then all of a sudden when we got to high school she was suddenly Mischa.”
“It doesn’t sound like you like her much,” I observe. Tabitha gives me a well duh look. I glance at Mischa again and she laughs at something Max said and touches his arm. I feel a strange kind of burning sensation…like some kind of hot flash or something and my ears are on fire and ringing…then it’s gone.
“She’s just so…”Tabitha pauses looking for the right word.
“Phony?” I supply.
“Obvious,” Tabitha decides.
“Noah!” Max says when he sees me. “You’re here…I thought you were going to ditch us.”
“I’m here,” I mumble because this is just too many people right now and I feel awkward. Mischa Mallory turns her attention to me with the remnants of her last smile still on her face. God, she really is beautiful. I focus on unwrapping a granola bar like it’s brain surgery.
“Well I just wanted to say it’s good to have you back and if you need any help getting caught up I’m available,” she turns back to Max. “See you later, Holden.” He grins his crooked grin.
“Yeah, see you,” Max says without correcting her on the name.
“WHAT was that?” Tabitha asks as soon as she’s gone.
“What?” Max says as if he’s really clueless.
“God, Max, are you really this obtuse? She was practically undressing for you.” Max rolls his eyes.
“What? She’s in my AP Lit class. She was just offering to help me get caught up, not that I need it.” Tabitha looks at me and rolls her eyes.
“He is p
retty clueless,” I agree and she laughs.
The rest of the day goes quickly. Sherrie actually sits next to me in computer science and we have a nice conversation before class starts. In art class it’s nice to look towards the back of the room to see Max working on his painting once again. Even sociology is more interesting than usual.
Tuesday and Wednesday are good as well. Everything is good at school. I haven’t had a panic attack in a while. I’m definitely not sad and I’m not numb. I do feel some anxiety here and there but in general I feel good and I hope my parents recognize that because Wednesday is our family session.
Dr. Cooper starts the session by asking all of us if we have any concerns. Mom and Dad both agree that I seem much better. They think the decision to put me back on Xanax was a good one. I don’t argue with them. It’s easier to just stay silent on the subject. Mom complains a bit about my appetite which is still not where she would like to see it. Dad complains about my difficulties with sleep. How does he even know I’m still not sleeping a full night? Maybe I just look tired. I pretty much just assure everyone that I’m fine.
“Noah, do you have any concerns that you would like to talk to your parents about? Is there anything you want to say that you might not feel comfortable bringing up at home? Sometimes it’s easier to talk when you have someone to mediate,” he says. I’m about to argue. What could I possibly want to say to my parents that would require mediation? There’s nothing at all that I want to say.
“What about Gramps?” I say as I turn to look at my mom then my dad. I had not intended to say that. I wasn’t even aware that that was on my mind but now that I’ve said it I do really want to know what they were talking about that one time. My parents look shocked then they school their expressions.
“What do you mean?” Mom says and I swear I hear the concern.
“I overheard you once. Dad, you were saying it was just like Gramps. What were you talking about?”
“You must have misheard,” Dad says and I know it’s a lie.
“He’s lying,” I say to Dr. Cooper. “What good is it having them here if they’re just going to lie? You won’t let me get away with that.”
“Mom, Dad?” Dr. Cooper urges.
“What is like Gramps? What upset you so much?” I press.
“Your grandfather…”Mom starts but Dad interrupts her.
“I should tell him. It’s my fault,” he says. He takes a deep breath then looks at me. “Noah, my dad struggled most of his adult life with many of the same issues you’ve also struggled with.”
“Gramps..wait, what?” I say oh so eloquently in my confusion. I barely remember my Gramps but I don’t remember anything like that.
“He mainly suffered from depression but he also had anxiety. It started when he was in his early twenties. Sometimes he was fine, other times he couldn’t even make himself get out of bed. When you were young he had a spell where he never left the house. My mom had to take care of everything. So you see, Noah, I’m just so sorry because it’s MY fault. It’s my genes that made you this way.” Dad stops because he’s suddenly too overcome.
My Gramps had the same issues? Why didn’t anyone ever tell me? How could I have not known this?
“It’s not your fault,” Mom and I both say at the same time. “Anyway, I’m fine,” I add and I give Dad a hug.
“It’s just that I see you struggle and there’s nothing I can do about it. I feel so helpless and it’s my fault. This came from me just as sure as your brown eyes did,” he sounds so incredibly sad.
“It’s not your fault,” I say. “It just is.” We spend the last fifteen minutes of the session talking about genes and chemical imbalances and all three of them make sure to point out all of the differences between my grandfather and me. How do I feel about this? I’m not even sure yet. It’s just too much right now. I file it away to consider it later.
On Friday a group of us go to the movies together. The movie that’s showing right now is one of those Paranormal Activity movies. What are they on now, like number twenty? It’s crazy how many of these there are but at least it’s kinda creepy and not just gore. Max and I elbow each other for the arm rest the entire time the previews are running and on my other side Tabitha just glares at me to let me know she’s not budging. I finally win the arm rest from Max although I think he lets me win. One arm rest is better than none.
After the movie we stop at the diner because of course that’s all there is to do after the movies in Lansing. Sherrie is already there with a group of her friends. I’m glad when we’re not seated too close to them even though we both say hi. I’m still having issues with my appetite. Unless I run, which I didn’t have time for today, I just really can’t seem to eat. I guess it could be worse. I’d rather the Xanax cause lack of appetite than make me ravenous. I pick at some fries and a chocolate shake at the diner.
It’s a little too loud and there are too many people so I’m just keeping pretty much to myself. Elliot is playing drums on the table with silverware. Darcy is telling him to grow up while she blows straw wrappers at him. Tabitha is almost as quiet as I am. Terry and Tessa are in their own little world. Max is messing with his phone.
“Hey, Maxwell, it’s rude to be texting someone that’s not even here when there’s a bunch of us actually like, present,” Elliot says. Max looks up and glances around the table before grinning sheepishly.
“Not texting, leaving a note for myself. I had some lyrics in my head,” he admits before putting his phone in his pocket. His mind is always working on something and he can get inspired anywhere. It’s one of the things I love about him.
Everyone at the table complains when the door opens letting in a gust of cold air. I hear Tabitha mutter under her breath as Mischa Mallory enters with some of her friends. I guess pretty girls only hang with pretty girls because all four of them are flawless. Their hair, their makeup, even their coats are just perfect. Mischa approaches our table while her friends follow the hostess to a table.
“I wonder what happened to my invite,” she pouts as she touches Max on the shoulder.
“It got swept under the door mat where it belongs with all of the other witches’ invites,” Tabitha mutters. I think I’m the only one that can hear her though. She’s sitting right next to me.
“Hi, Mischa,” Max smiles.
“Listen, I haven’t heard from you about when you want to get together, you know so I can help you get caught up with class,” she says, this time stroking his arm. If he can’t tell this is flirting he’s even more naïve than I am. For a few seconds I feel a little like the time my friend Kevin from back home dared me to bite into a ghost pepper. What the Hell is that? Is this a new symptom of anxiety or something? I will my heart to beat normally.
“Oh, that’s fine. Thanks for the offer but Noah actually helped me get caught up already,” he says nodding in my direction. I feel my ears get hot and am once again glad I let my hair grow.
“I don’t know you, do I?” she asks as she looks at me. I can’t meet her eyes.
“Noah was new this year,” Tabitha practically snarls. “I don’t see how you could have missed his arrival.” Mischa tosses her head in a “whatever” kind of gesture and turns her attention back to Max.
“Well, you know, we don’t HAVE to do homework. You have my number. Give me a call sometime. See you later, Holden,” she says as she leaves to join her friends.
“You know his REAL friends call him Max!” Tabitha yells over her shoulder at Mischa’s retreating form.
“Put your claws in, Kitty Cat,” Max chuckles.
“She’s just so…so…what a tramp!” Tabitha sputters. Max gives her a look my dad would be proud of. It’s that oh grow up look that parents are so good at.
“She’s harmless. “
“And you’re an idiot,” Tabitha mumbles. Max sighs.
“Tabby, I’m not stupid. I know she’s flirting. Just because I’m not interested doesn’t mean I have to be rude to her.”
“I thought she was going out with that Henderson kid that’s on the football team,” Darcy says.
“Apparently they broke up. I don’t know if she wants Max as a rebound or if she’s just trying to make Henderson jealous,” Tabitha informs her.
“Maxwell, how can you NOT be interested?! She can make Henderson jealous with me. Hey, Mischa…” Elliott says as he jumps out of his chair and heads towards Mischa’s table.
Suddenly I’m just really tired of being here. It’s probably just me but I find so much about these social things exhausting and I could care less who Mischa Mallory goes out with and I care even less who is pissing Tabitha off as long as it’s not me.
“I’m gonna head home,” I say leaving some money on the table.
“No! Come on, Noah, we just got you back. Tell him to stay, Max,” Darcy whines but she’s smiling when she says it.
“It’s still early,” Max says.
“Yeah, I know. I’m just really tired,” I say as I push in my chair.
“Do you want me to walk with you?” Max offers. He looks concerned or sad or disappointed or maybe I’m just imagining all of that. Maybe he’s afraid I’m going to run out of town again or something. My house is only a few streets away so it’s not like I really need company.
“I’m capable of finding my way home. Talk to you later,” I wave over my shoulder at the chorus of goodbyes.
I check in with my parents then head to my room. As I’m closing the door (but of course not locking it) my phone rings. I only just turned it back on when I left the diner. Thinking it’s probably just Max or Tabitha or Darcy calling to make sure I got home okay I pick up without looking to see who is calling.
“Hey, Freak,” it’s Kimber. I haven’t talked to her since the day that I kinda freaked out on her and then hung up without saying goodbye.
“Hey, what are you doing home on a Friday night,” I say.
“Paul had an out of town game and I just didn’t feel like doing anything. It’s really cold. I just wanted to stay in and drink hot cocoa and talk to my favorite cousin but you weren’t answering your phone. Noah, I’m sorry about the last time we talked. I shouldn’t have said the things I said. I really didn’t say anything to anyone though, not about what we talked about or about your panic attack or any of it.”
Behind the Falls Page 43