Inferno

by Robin Stevenson

  “No. Well, I haven’t exactly told a lot of people.”

  Then he laughs. “Guess maybe I shouldn’t have kissed you that night then.”

  “That’s okay. If I liked guys, you’d probably be the kind of guy I’d like. If that makes any sense.”

  “I guess that’s a compliment, right? To be honest, I haven’t had much luck with relationships lately.” He pulls a baggie out of his pocket and starts rolling a joint right there on my mom’s kitchen table. “Mainly because I’ve spent the last year totally hung up on someone who’s determined to waste her life being in love with an asshole.”

  “Um, you can’t smoke in here,” I say. Then I realize what he’s just said. “Sorry. Delayed hearing. Are you talking about...?”

  “Parker? Yeah. She’s the main reason I’ve stuck around.” He licks the rolling paper. “I’ve been a fucking idiot. Just been kidding myself, I guess.”

  I stare at him. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. He holds the joint up. “Can we go in your backyard or something?”

  I nod and get up, lead the way through the house and out the sliding glass doors and sit down beside him on the back steps. Out of sight of the neighbors, hopefully. “Leo?”

  “Yeah.” He lights up and squints at me through the smoke.

  The smoke wafts my way, and it is definitely not tobacco. I glance over toward the house next door. Hopefully everyone is at work. “You meant what you said back there? About how you feel about Parker?”

  Leo nods. “Can’t help it. Waste of my time, obviously. When you came along...” He breaks off and laughs.“Well, you know what they say.”

  “What?”

  “The best way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else.”

  I give a startled laugh. Sometimes I think I’m almost as uptight as my mother.

  “Sorry. I was just kidding, but I guess that was a bit crass.”

  “No, it’s okay. I get it.”

  “I liked you, Dante. I mean, I still do. I thought we had a good connection, you know? But Parker...Shit. I don’t know what it is about her.”

  “I know.”

  “Yeah.” He takes a drag and taps the ash off into the tidily mowed green grass.

  “Leo?” I swallow nervously. My heart is racing and my hands are wet, but I have to talk to someone about her. “I mean, I really do know. About Parker. I kind of...well, I kind of feel the same way about her.”

  He nods slowly like that doesn’t surprise him at all. Like he figures anyone who knew Parker would feel the same way. He leans down, butts out the joint on the ground and carefully puts the little papery end bit into his pocket. “Did you tell her?” he asks at last.

  “Yeah.” My cheeks are hot. “Last night.”

  “Was she cool with it?”

  I thought about it. “Pretty cool. I guess. She didn’t freak out or anything.”

  “But...”

  “Yeah. She’s straight. She’s with Jamie. I’m an idiot for thinking anything else.”

  Leo puts his arm around me and gives me a sideways hug. “I’m sorry. Of course, if you managed to get anywhere with her, I’d probably have to kill you. But...I really am sorry. If I had to pick, I’d rather see her with you than Jamie.” He sighs. “Unrequited love. It sucks.”

  “She kissed me.” I blurt it out. I don’t know why I feel like I have to tell him this, but I want to come clean. It’s like we’re in this together now, in a weird way. Parker is so out of our reach that we’re not even competition for each other—we’re just fellow sufferers.

  “No shit?” He pulls back and looks at me. For a second I think maybe I shouldn’t have told him. Then he shakes his head slowly. I can see a muscle in his jaw tighten and release, tighten and release. “I don’t want to sound like I’m bad-mouthing her. I’m crazy about Parker, you know that. Right?”

  “Yeah.” I want to know where he’s going with this.

  “I went over there one time, months and months ago. She and Jamie had been fighting. She was alone, crying and freaking out.” He shrugs. “We had a few drinks. I told her how I felt about her. It was dumb, I guess, but I was hoping she and Jamie were through. I was hoping if she knew how I felt...” He shrugs again, lifting his skinny shoulders and dropping them like the weight is too much. “I wanted to take care of her, you know?”

  “Yeah.”God, do I ever

  “Next thing I know...well.” He looks down at his feet, crosses one ankle over the other.

  I notice that he’s wearing hiking boots. Beat-up, old, Timberland Gore-Tex hiking boots, same as mine. “She kissed you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “More than that? More than kissing?”

  He frowns. “Dante...”

  “Sorry.” I don’t really want to know anyway. “And then what happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “I left before Jamie came home.” He looks at me to make sure I’m understanding correctly. “Not because I wanted to. Because she told me to, Dante. And the next time I saw her, she acted like nothing happened. Picked back up with Jamie.” Leo pulls out a pack of tobacco and starts rolling a cigarette. “I should’ve known, right?”

  “No. She shouldn’t have done that. Not knowing how you felt. It wasn’t fair.” She shouldn’t have kissed me either. That’s what I’m thinking.

  He sighs and offers me the cigarette. I shake my head automatically. “Right,” he says. “You’re a runner. Clean lungs. I remember.” He sticks it in his mouth, lights up and inhales. “The thing is, I don’t think she means to hurt anyone when she does that shit.”

  “No. I know. Jeez, Leo. You don’t have to tell me.”

  He narrows his eyes and looks at me. “I’ve basically given up. I know it’s never going to go anywhere. But you...well, you’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

  His streaky hair is falling around his face like a mane. Leo, lion, loyal. “I guess so,” I say. “I guess I do.”

  He gives a slow, not entirely friendly grin. “And she knows it, my friend. And you better remember that.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Parker doesn’t call me all day Wednesday or Thursday, and of course she doesn’t have a phone so I can’t call her. Friday morning after Mom and Dad leave for work, I break down and call Leo.

  “Have you seen her? Is she okay?”

  “Depends what you mean by okay.”

  “Leo...come on.”

  He sighs. “I was over there last night. Jamie’s pretty pissed at me for taking off.”

  “If you hadn’t, you’d both have been caught,” I protest. “Anyway, he could’ve stopped too. It’s not your fault he didn’t.”

  “Yeah. But...I don’t know, Dante. I don’t think I’m going to be hanging out there so much anymore.” He clears his throat. “Time to move on.”

  “What about Parker?”

  “What about her?”

  I try to remember her exact words. “You know what she told me once? She told me you were the kind of guy who wouldn’t let a girl down, you know? The kind of guy who’d always be there.”

  Leo gives a short, bitter laugh. “Yeah. Well, apparently that isn’t the kind of guy she wants.”

  “I think she really loves you. As a friend, Leo.”

  “Yeah. So she says. No offence, Dante, but the whole I-love-you-as-a-friend thing was getting a little tired. If you can do it, more power to you.”

  “Don’t walk away from her, Leo. She needs us.” I feel like I might start crying.

  “Aww, come on. I’m not saying I won’t take her calls, okay? Just that the ball’s in her court. I’m not going over there so that Jamie can call me a faggot and Parker can flirt with me whenever he’s out of the room.”

  I picture Parker sitting on the living room floor, crying, that night she and Jamie fought. I remember the way she jumped up when Leo came to the door. I guess any hint of a crack in her blind loyalty to Jamie is a good thing, but still, I don’t like to think about her flirt
ing with Leo. I push the thought aside. “You think Jamie will go to jail? I looked up the penalties for arson and criminal mischief and all that stuff...it’s pretty bad.”

  “Dunno. He’s convinced this hotshot lawyer is going to get him off. But maybe he’ll do some time. Maybe that’ll give Parker the break she needs to get away.”

  “So you do still care about her,” I say, like I’ve caught him out.

  “Of course I care about her.”

  “If you see her...could you give her a message for me? Just tell her I hope...I hope she’s okay?”

  “Tell her yourself,” he says. “You’ll see her tonight, right?”

  Social Skills 101. I’d completely forgotten. “Is she going?”

  “You know what, Dante? Parker makes fun of that group, but I’ll tell you something. She never misses it. Never.”

  As soon as Mom gets home, I raise the subject carefully. All our conversations have been a bit careful and awkward since that stupid fight. “I have that group tonight, Mom. I know I’m grounded but...If it’s okay, I’d like to go.”

  She slips her jacket off, carefully arranges it on a hanger and puts it in the coat closet. “Why? To see that girl?”

  I might as well be honest, because she’s not going to believe I’d go for any other reason. “Yes. Mom, I know you think she’s messed up...” I take a deep breath. “And I guess she is, sort of. Her boyfriend is an abusive jerk and she can’t seem to...I don’t know. She’s sort of...caught.” I look at my mom and will her to understand. “But she needs her friends to stick by her. She needs me.”

  Mom nods slowly. “I don’t know, Dante. Let me think about it. Let me talk to your dad.”

  Mom’s in the middle of making dinner when Dad gets home, so I decide to get a word in with him first. I follow him to his office in the basement and stand there while he unpacks papers from his briefcase.

  “What’s up?” he asks.

  “Dad?”

  He puts down his bag and turns to look at me. His forehead’s all lined and worried-looking, like one of those wrinkly dogs, and I suddenly feel all emotional, as if I might start bawling for no reason at all. It’s all been too much, these last few days.

  “You okay, honey?”

  I sniff a little and blink hard, but it’s no good. I’m all choked up. I can’t even talk.

  The wrinkles deepen. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He sounds scared. I guess the whole fire thing was probably a pretty big shock. He’s probably wondering what else he doesn’t know about me. And that thought starts me crying even harder.

  “Honey...please tell me.” He reaches out one arm tentatively, like he isn’t sure whether I’ll accept a hug or not.

  I let myself lean against him and he wraps his arms around me tightly. He smells like coffee and aftershave, and he feels so solid. “I’m okay,” I say. I wonder what he’d say if I told him how I feel about Parker. If I told him about Beth.

  “We love you so much,” he says. “I wish you’d talk to us.” He goes all quiet, but not like he’s distracted or thinking about something else. Just quiet in a waiting kind of way, like he’s just leaving room for me to talk.

  I imagine saying it: Dad, I think I’m queer. I close my eyes for a second. I can’t do it. I can’t tell him. I feel like I have to say something though, like his silence is creating a vacuum and the words are getting sucked right out of me. “Dad?”

  “Yes.” He leans away from me slightly so that he can see my face.

  “Um. Um.” I think I’d find it easier to confess that I have a skull tattoo, or a crack addiction, or that I’ve found Jesus. None of which is true, fortunately. But this...It’s not that I think he couldn’t handle it. Even Mom would probably be okay: She’d worry about what people would think but she’d get over it. It wouldn’t change the way she feels about me.

  This just feels too personal to share. Eventually I’ll tell them. But I don’t think it’ll be anytime soon. “I love you too,” I tell him.

  Technically, being grounded means no Internet, but I go up to my bedroom and go online anyway. I don’t understand how I can feel so guilty about hurting my parents, and at the same time, keep disregarding their rules. I just feel like I need to do this. If they understood, they wouldn’t mind. If they really understood, they’d want me to do what I needed to do. But maybe I’m deluding myself and just making excuses to do whatever I want. I don’t know.

  For the first time in ages, I go to Beth’s Facebook page. I don’t check to see who all her new friends are, or even bother reading the updates in her profile. I just look at her picture for a long minute and wait to see how I feel. Nothing much. A little sad, maybe, but in a detached, nostalgic kind of way, like it all happened a long time ago. I don’t feel any urge to write to her anymore.

  Then I search for Linnea. I don’t know if she’s even on Facebook, but there she is: Her last name is Zukanovic, so she’s not exactly hard to find. I send her a friend request with a message attached: Hey Linnea, About that group? Count me in.

  At dinner, Mom tells me that I can go to the Social Skills group after all. “I know you’re grounded, but I think you need to talk to someone, and maybe this counselor will be able to help you to...well, to get some perspective on things.”

  I picture Shelley’s earnest face and her scented markers. “Maybe,” I say. “Uh, Mom? Thanks. For letting me go anyway. Thanks a lot.”

  “Your dad will drop you off,” she says. “And I’ll pick you up. I’ll be waiting outside when you come out.”

  I hate that I’ve made them worry like this. I hate it. “I’ll be there,” I promise.

  Dad’s not as concerned about punctuality as Mom, so we roll up to the church just as the group is due to start.

  “Off you go then, honey.”

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  He shakes his head like there’s nothing to thank him for. “Go on.” He winks at me. “Get in there and teach ‘em some social skills.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  As I walk down the stairs, my hands start sweating. I realize I’m nervous about seeing Parker. I’m worried that she’ll be cool and standoffish, that things will be awkward and different between us. I take a deep breath, run my hands through my hair and enter the room.

  They’re all there, sitting in a circle on those uncomfortable wooden chairs in the middle of the too-big room. Parker’s face lights up when she sees me. “Dante! You made it!”

  I grin at her, instantly flooded with relief. She’s wearing her hair tied back in a ponytail, which makes her face look even skinnier, and the same old jeans and striped sweater. The first couple of times I met her, I thought that sweater was her favorite—sort of her trademark look. Now I figure maybe it’s the only one she owns.

  Shelley smiles at me. “Welcome, Dante. Good to see you again. We’re just starting check-in.”

  “Oh.” I sit down in the empty chair between Parker—was she saving it for me?—and Nicki. “Is it my turn?”

  “Sure, why don’t you go next? For today, we’re just saying one thing we each hope to take away from this group.”

  At least it makes sense, for once. At least I don’t have to describe anything metaphorically as one of the four seasons. I look around the group and wonder who all these girls really are and how we all ended up sitting here in this basement together.

  “Something you want to take away?” Shelley prompts. Other than Parker, I guess. “Um. Can I think about that for a minute?”

  “As much time as you need.”

  It’s hard to think when six girls are staring at you, especially when one of them is Parker. I choose my words carefully. “Okay. The thing is, I guess we all want to change some things in our lives, right?”

  Everyone is nodding, except Nicki, who is lifting one lip in a sneer, probably because she thinks I’m kissing up to Shelley. Which I am not. “Um, okay. And I think it’s good to talk about how we feel and all that, but...”
I look right at Parker. “But sometimes I think you have to take some action too, you know? I mean, to really make things change.” Like, leave your asshole boyfriend.

  Shelley frowns. “Change is internal, Dante. It comes from within. Learning to feel better about yourself, accepting yourself as you are.”

  “Right. Sure.” I actually feel okay about myself already. “But some things outside yourself might need to change too. So maybe we could talk about that. About what to do about the things you can’t just accept.”

  “You don’t always have a choice,” Parker says flatly.

  “One at a time,” Shelley says. “Parker, you’re next. Can you hold that thought until it’s your turn to speak?”

  “I’m done,” I say quickly. “Over to you, Parker.”

  She shrugs. “I’ve got nothing to say.”

  Shelley waits for a minute, but Parker just stares at the floor.

  At break, Parker and I head outdoors and sit down on the cement barrier that edges the parking lot. She takes out a cigarette, lights up and exhales a long stream of smoke into the night air. Then she tilts her head back and looks at me through narrowed eyes. “So.”

  “So,” I say.

  “If that comment about changing things was aimed at me, I didn’t really appreciate it.”

  “Oh come on,” I say. “You’re all about changing school systems and governments, but when it comes to our own lives, we have to accept whatever crap we’re dealt? That’s bullshit, Parker.”

  She smokes in silence for a minute. I don’t know if she’s seriously pissed off or just thinking. I wait awhile, but she still doesn’t say anything, and I don’t have my dad’s patience. “I guess you and Jamie got back together then,” I say eventually.

  “We never really broke up,” she says, shrugging. “He’s pretty pissed at me though. Like everything that happened was my fault. So we’re not really talking.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Parker doesn’t answer. She takes a drag, and the end of her cigarette glows in the darkness. She looks at the ash, just stares at it for a minute as if she might find the answer there. Usually she smokes her cigarettes right to the filter, holding them right at the base of her fingers like she’s trying to hide them or shelter them from the rain; but she tosses this one to the ground only half-smoked.