As I Am

by A. M. Arthur

  His dad parked on the street and stayed in the idling car while Taz forced his feet to carry him up the narrow walkway to the porch. His insides were shaking all over the place. The Blue Rocks cap wouldn’t do much to hide his face up close, but it made him feel better. A little.

  Okay, not really.

  He pushed the doorbell.

  The door snapped open almost instantly. A short woman with glasses took one look and did a double take.

  Taz flinched.

  “Who are you, honey?” she asked in a deeper voice than he’d expected.

  “Um, Taz. I mean, Thomas Zachary. I’m a friend of Will’s.”

  “I see. Will hasn’t mentioned you.”

  He couldn’t be offended by that too much, because until today he hadn’t mentioned Will to Peter. “Is he home? He isn’t answering his phone, and I really need to talk to him.”

  “I’m not surprised he isn’t answering. He had an eventful night.”

  “He did?” More eventful than his apartment? “What happened?”

  “It’s not really my place to say.”

  “Please, ma’am? I really need to speak with him. I came all this way.”

  She studied him for a moment, and he tried not to squirm. “Okay, come on inside.”

  He entered a large living room where two girls about his age were sitting on a sofa, watching something on a low-volume TV. They openly stared as the woman led him to the rear of the house, then out a sliding glass door to a screened-in porch. It was hot, a ceiling fan doing little to circulate the summer air, but it had comfortable-looking chairs.

  “My name’s Gloria,” the woman said. “I’m assuming Will told you what kind of home this is.”

  “Yes, ma’am, and I don’t judge him for that. Will struggles with a lot.”

  “He does, as do all of my residents. Wait here, and I’ll go see if Will is feeling up to a visit.”

  “I appreciate it, thank you.”

  Taz studied the slightly dirty interior of the porch. A few cobwebs here and there, a couple of holes in the screens. But nice. Kind of like an afterthought room they cleaned when someone remember to bother. The backyard beyond was small, but the grass was cut and fenced in on all sides. No real way for anyone to sneak up. No apparent threats. This was as safe a place as any, despite the open walls.

  He paced a little bit, because if he sat still he might lose his nerve and flee back to his dad’s car.

  You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

  The patio door finally slid open again. Taz turned, heart in his throat, and nearly burst into tears.

  Will looked terrible. He wore the same clothes as yesterday, which were rumpled and creased. His eyes were sunken, dark spots nearly swallowing them whole. And he stood there, listing slightly, definitely trembling.

  “Fuck, Will, what happened?”

  “Bad night.” Will’s voice was as shrunken as his body. “What do you want?”

  Ouch.

  “I’m sorry,” Taz said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, times infinity. I froze up and you ran off, and I couldn’t apologize or explain, and I’ve been so wrecked over that, and my dad drove me here so I could say I’m sorry.”

  Will did a long, slow blink.

  Taz kept going. “I don’t think you’re a whore. Not even close, and I’m so sorry you think that I thought that, because I don’t. I think you’re a beautiful, amazingly strong human being, and I’d be lucky to be with you, but it’s just as much my own brain as anything else that ruined everything yesterday.”

  “Your brain,” Will repeated. “Because you froze?”

  “That too, yeah. I’m... I’m scared you only want me because you want sex, not because you actually like me, and I know you said you do like me, but again. Brain. Bad, messed-up PTSD brain. I don’t see me as anything another person would want anymore, so it’s hard to believe you do, because I think you’re so amazing.”

  Babble brain, full-speed ahead.

  Will gaped at him for a moment, then sank into one of the chairs and dropped his face into his hands. Taz went to him immediately, sinking to his knees in front of Will, not touching. Will wasn’t shaking, didn’t seem to be crying. Just breathing. Slow in, deep out. Over and over.

  “I’m sorry,” Taz said, because he didn’t know what else to say.

  When Will finally looked up, his eyes were red but his cheeks were dry. He looked at Taz with so much resignation and fatigue his own heart nearly stopped. “Thank you,” he said on a whisper. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that until I did. Or how much I needed you.”

  Taz clenched both hands tight, not wanting to touch Will without permission, despite the overwhelming need to hug him. Hold him. Battle his newest demons until he was smiling again. “You’ve got me, Will. Whatever you need.”

  With a soft cry, he launched himself at Taz. It confused Taz, at first, until they were both sitting on the ground, Will in his lap, tangled up in his arms. In the most comforting, all-embracing hug of Taz’s entire life. Not a sexual thing about it. Taz’s skin was alive everywhere they touched, so grateful to know this. To know what holding Will felt like. Comforting him. Being the rock he needed in stormy waters.

  Even if Taz had no idea what those waters were, only that it had to do with more than their fight. So he held Will tight and absently stroked his soft, soft hair until Will relaxed by degrees. Settling into his arms, less desperate now.

  “Tell me what happened,” Taz said.

  Will let out a long breath that gusted across his arm. “You know I said I was molested, and then kind of let it slip that it was by more than one person?”

  “Yes.” Impossible to forget.

  “They didn’t catch them all, and last night I saw one of them in a bar.”

  Taz’s insides churned. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I recognized his laughter. He was laughing and drinking a beer with his pool buddies, and I bet none of them had a clue their pal was a drug-pushing pedophile pervert.” Will’s voice took on a dark, dangerous edge. “I had a complete meltdown. Total. I was out of it for a while, woke up in the hospital with my shrink already there.”

  “Did they catch the fucker?”

  “Not yet. I told a detective everything, but no one still at the bar knew the guy, except for his first name. I sat with a sketch artist this morning, so hopefully they’ll find him, but I don’t want to go through the whole thing again. A lineup and testifying and all of that shit. I barely survived it once.”

  Taz had to hold back very real rage over everything he was hearing. Rage at the man who’d dared to touch Will. Rage at the cops for not catching him back then, and for not having caught him yet today. Rage for all of the fears and anxieties plaguing Will, who had shown so much kindness to an ugly wreck like himself.

  “You’ll survive it again, if you have to,” Taz said. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

  “I don’t feel strong. Last night I felt like a kid again, stuck in that bedroom. Too scared to say no or fight back. Even the very first time it happened, I didn’t fight. I just did what the guy told me and let it happen.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Fighting could have gotten you hurt so much worse. You survived, Will, that’s what matters most.”

  “I don’t understand why this is so easy with you.”

  “Why what is easy?”

  Will lifted his head, those smudges still there but his eyes a little brighter. “Touching. I can’t remember the last time I let someone hug me, much less hold me like this. And I’m not even a little bit afraid.”

  A bit of pride puffed Taz’s chest. “I’m glad I can give you that. Truth be told, I haven’t touched other people much since my assault, either. But it’s different with you. With us.”


  “I know. I think that’s why you turning me down like you did hurt so much and I reacted like I did. I’d let myself hope for something I never thought I deserved, and in that moment, I lost it.”

  “Except you didn’t. You ran off before I could tell you.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ignored you, and I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here to see me.”

  Taz grinned. “You’ve been out to see me twice. It was my turn.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not the one who hates going outside.” Will rolled his eyes. “Okay, yes, I do hate it, but less than you. This has to be messing with your head.”

  “A little, but it’s worth it to see you. And so that we could get this all talked out.” He gently cupped Will’s chin with his fingertips. “You are the best friend I have in the world right now, and I want to keep you.”

  “Me too.”

  “You are worth so much more than sex. And as much as I love how you fit so nicely in my arms, I need you to really know that, to embrace your self-worth, before we sleep together.”

  Will pouted. “But you do want me.”

  “More than you know.” Their conversation plus proximity was going to give Will a very real demonstration soon if he didn’t change the subject. “Neither one of us is ready. Not really.”

  “I hate it when you’re right. I just... Sex gets so messed up in my head sometimes. What it’s supposed to be and mean. I’ve been messing it up for years, ever since I thought I might be gay.”

  “I’m getting that, which is why we’re waiting. When we’re finally in bed together, I want us both to have a very clear understanding of why we’re there. And what it means. We both deserve that.”

  Especially you, Will Madden. You deserve that so much.

  “Okay,” Will said. “You’re right. Friends?”

  “Absolutely friends.”

  “Good.” He wiggled out of Taz’s lap—a move that made sense, since he didn’t seem to need the overt comfort anymore, but also left Taz a bit bereft. He’d enjoyed their contact. Will settled in front of Taz, knees drawn up to his chest. “So this is going to sound super pathetic, but, um...what sorts of things do friends do together?”

  Taz blinked hard as he took in the question. “What do you mean?”

  Will’s cheeks pinked up. “Well, I haven’t really had any friends since I was small. Like, elementary-school small, and back then we went to the playground and watched TV and played video games after school. But that’s kid stuff. I didn’t... I didn’t have any friends for a long time, while all of the abuse was going on, and I’ve been pretty isolated since I was, like, thirteen. I feel like I’ve been doing all the wrong things for the last year and a half, so what do normal friends do?”

  Instead of self-pitying, Will’s commentary sounded wistful. As if he’d accepted he’d lived an abnormal life, had missed out on a lot of things regular teenagers experienced, and he wanted desperately to know what they all were. What was expected of him in this new friendship, now that sex was off the table.

  Sex is all he knows.

  The thought made Taz sad, but also determined. Determined to work hard and overcome his own limitations, so he could be the kind of friend Will deserved. The kind he seemed to need so badly.

  “Friends do all kinds of things,” Taz replied. “Usually stuff they both enjoy, like going to a Blue Rocks game, or a museum, or to a band concert. Even simple stuff like shopping, or trying out a new restaurant.”

  Will’s face fell. “But that’s all outside stuff. Stuff you won’t feel comfortable doing.”

  “We don’t have to do that stuff right away. I mean, friends do indoors things, too, like watching movies and playing cards. And video games are still awesome, no matter your age. We could teach ourselves to build something, like puzzles or model cars. Or marathon TV shows we both like.”

  “Those things sound fun.”

  “And we can work up to doing more stuff in public,” Taz added. He needed to go outside more, to get used to the way people looked at him. To practice not being afraid that any time he turned around, someone was going to cause him agonizing pain. Not everyone was his enemy.

  Will’s lips tilted up into a half smile. “I have an idea for an outside thing that’s also pretty isolated and would involve only maybe a dozen other people.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “The fund-raiser I’m setting up on Saturday.”

  Taz’s stomach rolled with acid, and he bit back his need to say no way in hell. That was only two days away. Instead, he said, “Tell me about it.”

  “Well, there’s a performance by a drag queen named Lenore Lestat. She’s a friend of a friend of a friend from Florida, or something, but they’re selling tickets, offering food and drinks, and having a silent auction for things local businesses have donated.”

  “Sounds like a lot of people.”

  “At the benefit, yeah, but I don’t go to those. I keep thinking about staying because I’ve never seen a drag show, but all those people? Meh. Anyway, what if you come with me when we do setup? You can help us decorate the venue, or prepare the food, or something. We can do the work together. I mean, it will be, like, twelve people max.”

  Twelve people to gape and sneer at his ruined face. Twelve strangers who might mean him harm.

  Twelve people Will was going to straighten his spine and work with on this benefit, even though he’d rather be hiding behind his desk at the Stanley Center. He could be as brave as Will. Step out of his comfort zone and do this together. With his new friend.

  “I’ll think about it” was all Taz said.

  Will didn’t seem fazed. “Cool. I’m sure it’ll be okay with Jonas, and it’ll be loads easier for me knowing you’re there, too.”

  As much as he wanted to be there for Will, first Taz had to overcome the growing sense of terror clawing at his chest. He didn’t have much time to get used to the idea—or find a way to talk Will out of him participating.

  But first, a distraction. “So my dad brought a pizza over to my place for lunch,” Taz said. “You feel up to riding back with us and eating some? We can reheat it if you don’t like it cold.”

  Will blinked owlishly. “You want me to meet your dad?”

  “Well, I hadn’t thought about it like that, but yeah. If you want to meet him, of course. He’s a super chill guy. He’s still getting his head around the liking-guys part of the bisexual thing, but he’s been nothing but supportive of me since we met.”

  “What did you tell him about me?”

  “Only that you’ve got PTSD too, and that’s why we understand each other so well. Nothing else, I swear. It’s funny, because when I told him your name, he acted like he knew you for a second. But you probably aren’t the only Madden in the city, right?”

  “I doubt it,” Will said, frowning. “I mean, it’s not a super uncommon name.”

  “So, lunch?”

  He hesitated a moment longer, then smiled. “Sure, lunch sounds good.”

  “Awesome.”

  Taz stood first, then offered Will his hand. Will took it.

  Chapter Seven

  Will looked forward to meeting Taz’s father with all the enthusiasm of eating something he absolutely hated—and he really, really wanted to be excited about it. He adored Taz, and he loved the story Taz had told him about reuniting with his father after a lifetime of not knowing him.

  But his anxiety monster had latched onto something small and turned it into a whirring vortex of doubt in his brain. When Taz had lightly commented on his dad’s reaction to Will’s last name, as if he recognized it, a rush of fear would have bowled him over if he wasn’t still sitting. His first thought was that Taz’s dad would know exactly who Will was somehow. His mother’s name, Marjorie Madden, had been in the papers at the ti
me of the drug bust, and again later after sentencing.

  Will’s had been withheld because he was a minor, though, and he wasn’t the only Madden in Wilmington. When he was a kid, he’d found a Yellow Pages and looked through it, wondering as only a child can dream if any of the men listed were his father. Which was silly, in retrospect, since his mother hadn’t married his father, so Madden was her maiden name.

  Still, once Will started worrying about it, it stayed with him the entire five minutes it took him to wash his face and change his clothes, then follow Taz to the car idling at the curb.

  An older, slightly taller version of Taz climbed out of the driver’s side and came around, his hand already extended.

  “Dad,” Taz said, “this is my friend Will. Will Madden, my dad, Peter Callahan.”

  Will tentatively shook Peter’s hand, grateful the other man kept a light grip. He smiled kindly, without any sort of recognition or suspicion. Maybe a little forced, but Will wasn’t exactly a prize as a friend. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  “Likewise,” Peter said. “I’m grateful to you for befriending my son. Lord knows he’s been holed up for quite a while.”

  “I’m grateful to him, too,” Will replied. “Taz is a very special guy.”

  Taz’s cheeks reddened. “You wanna sit up front, or in the back?”

  “The back is fine.” Will’s pulse kicked. “Is it okay that I’m coming back to Taz’s place to share your pizza?”

  “Of course it’s fine,” Peter replied. “He was pretty worried about you earlier. I’m glad to see you two worked things out.”

  “Misunderstandings all around,” Taz said. “But we’re good now.”

  “Let’s go then, before we all melt in this heat.”

  The car was wonderfully air-conditioned, and Taz surprised him by getting into the backseat, too, his right hand resting comfortably close to Will’s left on the cool leather between them. And Peter, bless him, didn’t pester Will with a ton of questions on the drive back to Taz’s apartment. Not even the typical getting-to-know-you stuff, like what do you do?