Chapter 12
I need to tell him. I have to get this over with. Whatever happens.
Rob turned off his treadmill and got off. He glanced at his weights and shook his head.
What’s the point?
After the shower, he mulled over where it would be best to do it. If I do it at his place, he can kick me out after, but he would have to listen. If I do it here, he could storm off in the middle of it and I couldn’t chase him. Yeah, Zach’s place it is.
He took a six-pack from the fridge and scratched Meow’s head.
“I’ll probably be back soon. This rarely ends well.”
Walking to Zach’s back door through connected back yards was like walking a mile. His heart pounded and he couldn’t calm his shaking hands. At this point, a full-blown panic attack was a real possibility.
It’s going to be fine. Zach is intelligent. Kind. He’s not going to freak out. Hopefully.
He took a hold of the rail and breathed in.
Maybe I should go back home. He’s going to freak out and he won’t talk to me again. If I try harder, I can maybe, probably hide it a little longer. Or not... he’s my friend; I can’t lie to him anymore.
Rob climbed the stairs and stood in front of Zach’s back door.
You don’t lie to your friends, Robert. And if he doesn’t accept you for who you are, then he was never your friend in the first place. He choked on thin air.
This pep talk will never, ever work. Focus.
“Hey, Zach.” He knocked on the door. “I’m here.”
“Hey, man.” Zach said, coming out. “I just finished with my run so I’m gonna take a quick shower. Come inside, it’s cold today.”
Rob went into the kitchen and sat at the table.
“I’ll wait here. Sorry I came early...”
“No problem. I’ll be out in a few.” He turned around and went up the stairs. Rob watched him leave.
I can’t do this. What is he going to say to me?
Rob looked around and got up. He moved his palms over the walls. Yeah, this kitchen really needs a paint job. It will be done in two, three days at most. He glanced across the hall. And the living room will take two more days. I need to make a list of what we’ll need. We must go and buy supplies. He circled the kitchen once more, then sat at the table again. Oh and prep before painting. He patted his pockets in search of a pen and paper. I need to write this down. We have to...
“Oh, God... I’m doing it right now. Shit.”
I can’t hide it. It will rear its ugly head in the worst possible moment and then he’ll know. And he will be mad, rightfully so. He’ll think I have lied to him. And then I will lose him.
I have to tell the truth.
“Hey! I’m done.” Rob jumped. I didn’t hear him come back. How much time have I lost?
“I was just thinking...” He got up and went to the living room. “We should repaint this. It will take us two days, tops. We can do it so that Miranda can start bringing buyers.”
“That’s what I wanted to tell you.” Zach frowned. “She-devil was here this morning.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, and she came with more demands.”
“What now?!” Rob moaned.
“Exactly my reaction,” Zach laughed. “I wanted to strangle her.”
“What in the name of all that is holy did Marge see in her?”
“They went to school together. And Miranda really is the best real-estate agent, she’s got awards and who knows what else...” He sighed. “I just can’t stand her.”
“I can’t stand her, either,” Rob said.
“That is very nice of you, that solidarity, thank you.” Zach squeezed his shoulder.
“I want to be a loyal friend to you.” Zach’s hand dropped, and he quickly turned around.
What? Is he suspecting something?
“Come back in here,” Zach called him from the kitchen. “Let’s have that beer.”
Come on, Robert, put it in gear.
“Actually, the loyal friend thing is why I came here.” He took the bottle from Zach and pulled him back to the living room. “I really need to tell you something.” He pushed Zach to sit on the sofa.
“What is it?” Zach asked.
“Uh... I don’t know where to start...” Rob sat on the coffee table in front of Zach.
“Just start at the beginning.”
“I-I have this condition...” He exhaled. “Well, not a condition.” He put the bottle on the table next to him. “It’s...” Rob folded his hands in his lap.
“You’re not sick.” Zach was ghostly pale. “Please, please tell me you’re not sick.”
“Um... it’s not a disease...” Zach’s shoulders relaxed. “Or rather not any longer, but it depends who you’re talking to.”
Zach’s head snapped up. “Rob, tell me, please.”
“I have Asperger’s Syndrome.” There.
Zach folded in half. He put his forehead on Rob’s hands.
“Thank you, God, thank you.”
What?
“I thought you had cancer.” The air whooshed out of Zach’s lungs.
“Ca... what?!”
“I thought you are going to die! You bastard!” Zach jumped from the sofa.
“I’m... sorry?” What is going on?
“Oh, God... you scared the ever-loving fuck out of me...” Zach pulled at his hair and shook his head. “This is the worst ‘we need to talk’ conversation I had in my life. And I’ve had a lot of them.”
“I’m so sorry I scared you.” Rob got up. He wasn’t sure what this reaction meant. Is he going to throw me out or not? “I was terrified and then I shut down and I thought you would freak out and kick me out and then you freaked out... just not about Asperger’s. Why are you freaking out exactly?”
“I’m sorry I freaked out at all.” Zach put his hands on Rob’s shoulders and guided him to sit down again. “I was scared and didn’t deal with it well.”
This time Zach sat on the coffee table and looked straight at Rob. Rob was fighting to maintain eye contact. He knew this was not the time to cower; he needed to understand Zach’s reaction.
“I knew.”
What?
“What?!”
“I knew. I am a teacher, Rob. Have been for years. And my students are... diverse.” He took Rob’s hand. Soft skin against Rob’s palm made him struggle to follow the conversation. “I had to learn to read the signs. Subtle signs and those not so subtle... We’ll have to talk about your cupboards and pantry, by the way.” He winked.
“Oh, God...” Rob groaned and leaned into Zach’s lap. The realization that Zach would not throw him out made him want to giggle like a toddler. But the embarrassment at the thought Zach knew the moment he saw those plates and bowls was burning his face.
“You worried about nothing.” Zach caressed his hair. “Just how long did you worry about this?” He smiled.
“Only about a month or so...” Rob mumbled. Don’t stop doing that to my hair, please.
“Look at me.” Rob reluctantly raised his head. His scalp was tingling, and he wanted to stay there and let Zach’s fingers do their magic. “I knew you were somewhere on the spectrum. I didn’t know where exactly, and I didn’t know if you knew yourself. So, I didn’t want to say anything to out you, so to speak.”
“Out me?”
“Yes. As in coming out gay. This is coming out autistic.” Zach grinned. “It’s nobody’s business but your own.”
“Thank you. I think?” I’m confused.
“It’s OK. We’re OK.”
“Yes, we are.” Rob took his bottle and swallowed half.
“Don’t get drunk on me now.” Zach took it from him. “We need to talk about the paint job and all the other demands of Queen Miranda.”
“Oh, yes.” Rob nodded. “I have made the schedule.”
Zach stared at him.
“I needed a distraction from the ‘we need to talk’ conversation while I waited for you. I
made a schedule and calculated the cost. I need a piece of paper to write it down for you. Had to do it in my head.” Rob smiled sheepishly.
“Like you didn’t already have enough going for you... You had to be a genius too.” Zach shook his head.
“I’m... sorry?”
“Not as much as I’m going to be...”
I don’t get it.
“Tell me about our schedule.”
Chapter 13
“Do you want another juice?” Rob got up from the loveseat.
“Yeah, that would be great! I’m parched.” Zach gave him the empty glass.
“You’re driving yourself too hard.”
“I need to finish this as soon as possible. Miranda is dragging her feet and I need her to do something already.”
“We’ll get it done in no time. Don’t worry,” Rob assured him. “I’ll be right back.”
Zach looked out to the garden while he waited. It really was beautiful. He forgot how peaceful was here. No traffic, no loud neighbors, no stress. Nothing but peace and quiet. And Rob.
I was looking for someone like him in every guy I’ve ever met. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong man.
It was spring already. Here you could actually see the seasons changing. He couldn’t muster up the anger he knew he should feel; he couldn’t think of this as wasting time. Time spent with Rob... he knew he would pull these memories in the years to come, and they would be his comfort.
Aunt G told me I would know when I met HIM. She would kick my ass now.
Zach snorted.
“Something funny?” Rob asked when he returned.
Oh, if you only knew...
“I was just thinking about Gerry. There is always something funny with her.”
“True.” Rob gave him his glass and leaned on the rail.
Zach leaned back in his chair. He is so beautiful. And he doesn’t know it.
“You never told me how you and Carson met.” Rob turned to him.
“Ah, you want the gossip.” Zach smiled.
Rob sat on the loveseat and rubbed his hands. “Always. Spill.”
“Let’s see. Once upon a time—”
“Oh, come on...”
“All right, all right...” Zach looked at his glass, then at Rob. This was the ultimate test of their friendship. Will he be disgusted by me? Disappointed maybe? “I thought I told you I would need a couple of beers for that one, you cheap bastard.” He winked. “I had a boyfriend in college. My first serious relationship. I was young and in love—”
“You’re still young.”
And in love again.
“Yes, you’re right. But I was a kid, and I had this dream we would find a place together and I would become a teacher and we would live happily ever after.” He took a sip of his juice. “And we did. We found this crappy miniature apartment in a shitty neighborhood and I got a job as a substitute teacher... I was so happy. I was blind.”
“No...”
“Yes.” Zach turned to the garden; he couldn’t bear to see pity in Rob’s eyes. “There was a mix-up with my schedule at school, a new administrative assistant with too much focus on her mani/pedi appointments.” He waved his hand dismissively. The ‘why it happened’ wasn’t important anymore. “Anyway, as it usually happens, I came home earlier than expected. Gabe, my boyfriend of three years, was plowing this twink... the kid was probably under-aged. He looked barely 17. I don’t know.”
“I’m so sorry...”
Zach tried to smile. He really did. Even after all these years, it was still the most painful moment of his life. It was the event that shaped his life. He swore then that he would never let anyone hurt him that way again, and it had kept him from letting anyone else in.
“The thing is, I went to the tourist agency straight from school. I went to book us a trip to Hawaii. He always wanted to go; he talked about it constantly. I scraped together some money, even Marge chipped in.”
“Oh, Zach...”
“It turns out it was a good thing I went there. If I didn’t do that, I would never have caught them. I would have come home before they started, and he could’ve sold me any excuse he wanted.” Zach sighed. To be that vulnerable and trusting again would be a death sentence. “When all hell broke loose, they jumped apart, the kid started crying and Gabe begged... but the only thing I saw was his dick.” He quickly looked at Rob, “I mean his bare, unprotected dick.” Rage made his blood boil to the point he thought he would explode just thinking about it.
“No!” Rob gasped.
“I moved out. I went to this clinic and... the results were inconclusive.”
Rob grabbed his hand. No one ever touched him when he told this story. He was used to people taking a step back, revulsion evident in their eyes. Rob’s big, warm hand covered his, and he felt his shoulders relaxing.
“I spiraled out of control, I practically buried myself. I gave up. Didn’t want to go to the doctor. What was the point when I was gonna die anyway, right? I lost my job, became depressed, and suicidal. Why wait for disease to end me? I should go with at least some dignity. Then a friend of a friend literally dragged me to this big hospital, they did the tests again, and I was clean. No one knows what happened the first time, a mix-up or something...”
Rob sighed and squeezed his hand tighter. Zach closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The relief he’d felt that day washed over him once again.
“I went to regular checkups for the next four years, just in case. I went to therapy. That’s where I met Car. And believe me when I tell you, he had it much worse than I did.”
“I’m so sorry you went through that.”
“Car and I, we kept each other alive. That’s a bond that cannot be broken, ever. He’s my brother, my family.” He looked at Rob, “I’m here thanks to him.”
“I’m happy you had someone to help you. That you were not alone.” Rob let go of his hand and the loss made him shiver. “And I’m grateful you told me. That’s not easy.”
“No.”
“I hope you found someone after all that.”
“Many someones,” Zach laughed. “No one stayed. I’m,” he made air quotes, “emotionally unavailable. I’m bad at relationships.”
“It’s understandable.”
“I want that, but trust is... I don’t trust men anymore. I want to, but it’s hard. Especially in New York. The things I saw made me question everything. So, you could say that after Gabe, I’m not really relationship material.”
“You were hurt. You needed time to heal. And all that left scars. But the right person will come and to him it won’t matter.” Rob got up to bring them another drink. “You’ll see. You’ll meet him.”
Zach watched him leave.
I already did.
Chapter 14
After more than a decade, with maybe a few fresh coats of paint, it seemed nothing had changed. The hallways were empty, but the smell of books and chalk remained. The lockers were dark blue now, but the doors were still brown. The remains of a few April Fool’s pranks were still visible, and he smiled at the memories of the years he spent here. Zach stopped at his old locker. He had dreamed of escape here, hoped for a future without the hate and resentment he had at home. And he made it. He could pick and choose his college thanks to the support he had here.
Coming at him down the hall dressed in a black suit was a woman he loved, so much.
“Hey, Mrs. Whitney! Long time no see.”
“Hello, Zachary.” Mrs. Whitney hugged him tight. “It’s wonderful to see you! How are you?”
“I’m fine, you know...” He trailed off and grimaced.
“I heard about your father. I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his hand.
“Thank you, Mrs. Whitney.”
“Isidora, please. I wasn’t so much older than you even when I was your teacher.”
“All right, Isidora. Still my favorite teacher.” He grinned.
“Thank you, Zach.” She patted his shoulder.
“So, what�
��s new in school?”
“Oh, this and that...” She guided him down the hall, her sensible shoes clicking with every step. “We remodeled chemistry lab three years ago, last year we got some new equipment for the gym. Oh, Mr. Robertson finally retired...”
“No! I can’t believe it.” Zach laughed. “I always thought he would die in his classroom.”
“His daughter decided to send him to Florida, to some assisted living facility. I don’t really know much, but it’s one worry less for me.” Mrs. Whitney gasped. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.” She turned around to see if anyone heard her.
“Your secret is safe with me.” He winked at her then took her hand and put it in the crook of his elbow.
“Here we are. Our old classroom.” Isidora opened the door and led them inside.
He entered the time capsule. Everything was almost exactly as it was all those years ago. The walls were the same light blue color and there were more books on the shelves at the back of the classroom, but the posters of writers and book covers were the same. His poem, written for a competition, hung framed on the wall by the window. His fingers ghosted over the frame.
“It’s like time traveling machine. I feel 18 again,” he whispered.
“When I started teaching here, I hung all these posters.”
“I remember...”
“I became principal three years ago, but my substitute didn’t change anything.” Isidora sighed. “Sometimes I come here just to remember. With this new position, it’s easy to forget why I do what I do. Memories from this room keep me grounded. It’s all about the kids. Everything we do is for them.”
“Education is the greatest gift we can give them. You taught me that. You played a big role in shaping me to be the man I am today.” Zach hugged her again.
“Thank you, Zach, that is the best compliment.” She took a step back and smiled. “Let’s go to my office. I still have something to talk to you about.”
“Lead the way.”
The Principal’s office was big and spacious, with a conference table on the right. On the left was a large desk with a laptop on it and a filing cabinet next to it. But throughout the room were little details that said to whom exactly this office belonged; Shakespeare's statue sat on the desk next to, of course, a photo of Isidora Duncan.
What We Want Page 5