There Goes Sunday School

by Alexander C. Eberhart

  I quickly turn my face as the other security guard hauls Pastor Myers in the opposite direction. When I look back, Vanessa is being ushered away.

  What the hell is going on here?

  A nurse hurries past, and I catch her elbow.

  “Sorry, but do you know where Christian Myers is? I’m his brother. I just got here.”

  “Sure, sweetie.” The nurse huffs, grabbing a chart off the counter beside her. “Three doors down on the left.” Then she heads down the hallway.

  I try and look inconspicuous, but no one cares as I open his door and sneak in.

  The room is dark, only the light above his bed illuminating the space. Chris is propped up, arm in a sling across his chest. Lines of red steak across his face, no doubt from windshield glass. The bruise around his eye looks worse too.

  He doesn’t notice me at first, just continues to stare out the window on the opposite side of the room. I make it to the edge of the bed before he looks at me. The faintest of smiles play across his lips and my heart breaks a little.

  “Hey.” His voice is hoarse.

  “Hey.”

  I move to the side of the bed, pulling a chair closer to him.

  “I didn’t think you’d be here,” he mutters. They must have given him something for pain because his eyes are glassed over.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Figured you’d be wandering the streets of Atlanta by now, looking for the perfect underpass for us to live under.” He chuckles, and it’s a pitiful sound.

  “In a shocking turn of events, my parents are actually way cooler than I thought they were. My dad even asked if we were having safe sex, at which point my mother almost fainted.”

  Chris laughs harder, but it’s cut short with a wince. “Well at least one of us have decent human beings as parents.”

  “I saw them out in the hallway,” I tell him. “What exactly is going on?”

  Chris closes his eyes. “My father is a piece of shit. That’s what is going on.”

  “Well, we already kinda knew that. Was there something added to his shitty factor?”

  “How about the fact he tried to kill me?”

  I wait for him to laugh and say he’s joking.

  He doesn’t.

  “What the fuck?”

  Chris lets out a sigh, eyes opening just enough he can see me through his long lashes. “When I got home,” he says, “he was waiting for me. Said he wanted to take a ride, like old times. I should have known he was lying, but he sounded so sincere. I thought maybe he wanted to try and work things out. Maybe he wasn’t the actual scum of the fucking earth. So, I said yes.

  “We got in his car. I went to buckle in, but the seatbelt was stuck, and I couldn’t get it down. I asked him about it, and he just brushed it off by saying he’s been meaning to get that fixed. Being the idiot I am, I didn’t think twice about it. We started down the road, and he wasn’t saying anything, just gripping the steering wheel really tight.

  “He’d been drinking, I could smell it on him when we got in the car. But I still went with him. I think there’s something wrong with me, Mike. I mean, who’s dumb enough to keep looking for acceptance from a man who’s completely turned his back on you?”

  “You’re not dumb.” I reach out, taking his uninjured hand. “You may be a bit naïve, but never dumb.”

  He wraps his fingers around mine and I want to cry.

  “We got out on the freeway, and he still wasn’t really talking. So, I decided to get the ball rolling. I asked him why he wanted to talk to me, and he just balked and said he wanted one last car ride with his son. I should have known then. Thirty seconds later, we were careening off the road. I still would have thought it was an accident if he hadn’t jumped out of the driver’s door before the car hit that tree.

  “I went into the windshield, but thankfully not through it. Then the stupid airbag went off too late and broke my fucking arm. I thought I was dead until Dad pried open the door and got me out. I was losing consciousness, but I swear I heard him crying and saying he was sorry over and over….”

  Shock silences anything I might say.

  “Then I woke up here, with him beside my bed and I wished to myself I had died. Then I wouldn’t have to accept the fact my own father tried to kill me.”

  And suddenly Vanessa’s behavior in the hallway makes total sense.

  “Is it wrong that I still don’t hate him?” Chris’s eyes leave me and drift to the ceiling. “I keep trying to, but I just can’t.”

  “You’re a far better person than he is,” I tell him. “And he deserves to rot for what he tried to do.”

  “Mom thinks so too.” His eyes shut again, and he sounds so defeated. “She snapped when I told her what happened. I thought she was going to kill him, she was so upset.”

  “She almost did,” I tell him about her explosion in the hallway. “The security guard had to step in.”

  Another ghost of a smile tugs at Chris’s lips. “Go, Mom.”

  He falls silent and after a few minutes his hand goes limp in mine as a soft snore escapes. I carefully detach myself from him, standing just as his mother enters the room. Once again, her face is splotchy, but a new fire that wasn’t there before burns behind her eyes.

  “How is he?” she asks in a hushed tone.

  “Surprisingly okay, all things considered.”

  “He told you what happened?”

  I nod.

  “I just finished speaking with someone from the sheriff’s department. They’re going to be doing a full investigation of the crash.”

  “How could he do it?” I can’t help but ask. “What kind of man can even think about hurting his own son?”

  Vanessa recoils like I’ve slapped her. “What kind of mother allows it to happen?” she says so quietly I think she’s asking herself.

  “You couldn’t have known.” I place a hand on her shoulder with a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t blame yourself.”

  “That’s what you do as a parent.” She laughs, wiping a tear from her cheek. “You blame yourself for everything and wish you could have done it differently.”

  “He’s alive.” I pull her into an embrace. “That’s what matters. And he needs you.”

  Vanessa clings to me for just a moment, then pushes me away gently. “He’s lucky to have you, Michael.”

  But I don’t feel the same. In some way, I know this is my fault. I’m the reason Chris is laying in the bed right now.

  She presses a hand to my cheek with a smile. “You should get home, it’s late. I’ll let you know how he’s doing in the morning.”

  “Thank you.” I toss one more look back to Chris sleeping peacefully, then head out.

  The next day, I decide to go back to Stronghold. My parents try to talk me out of it, but I want to show them I’m not so easy to get rid of. Double-P said I had a week to decide if I would agree to their terms, so here I am.

  I make it to lunch without anything serious happening, and the gang is all here, minus Chris. Vanessa texted me this morning, letting me know as soon as they cleared Chris of the chances for concussion and got his arm in a cast, they’d be going to stay with her parents for a few days while the whole situation gets sorted out.

  That means I don’t know when I’m going to see Chris again, and it’s killing me.

  Jackie elbows me in the side and I look up. Tabby’s standing at the table, holding her tray and glaring at me.

  “Can I help you with something?” I ask, trying to control my temper.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing here.” I motion to my tray of food.

  “You’re not allowed here anymore,” she says, clenching her teeth. “They were supposed to expel you.”

  “Well, they tried.” I stand so I’m on her level. “But you get one last week of me, so enjoy it while you can.”

  “Good riddance.” she sniffs, turning her nose up at me.

  “Hey, Tabby.” I
stop her from walking away. “Who did you get to take that photo, by the way?”

  She furrows her brow. “What photo?”

  “The one that got sent into the Principal,” I say. “The one of me and Chris kissing.”

  The table goes quiet, everyone’s eyes on me.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, fairy-boy.”

  “Then how’d you know what’s going on with Double-P?” Jackie asks.

  “Because my parents are on the board,” Tabby answers. “They said you and that other fag are out of here.”

  “If it wasn’t you.” I look to Tanner, but he only shrugs. “Then who was it?”

  From the end of the table, Katie gets up from her seat. She clutches her backpack to her chest, then bolts out the side doors.

  No way.

  “Hey, Tanner.” Tabby taps him on the shoulder. “I’m sitting over here if you’d like to join me. I just heard the funniest story about Dr. Bernhard.”

  “No thanks, Tabby.” Tanner brushes her off. “You’re about the last person I want to sit with.”

  She huffs, giving me one final stink eye before skulking off.

  “I’m going to go find Katie,” I tell Jackie and Tanner. They nod, turning to catch the questions exploding from the other side of the table.

  “All right, settle down you Neanderthals!”

  The hallway is quiet, but a soft crying comes from the door to the stairwell. I push it open, Katie sitting on the bottom stair. She raises her head, and the crying gets louder.

  “I’m so sorry, Mike,” she says, wiping her face. “I-I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  “So, it was you.” I take a seat beside her, the cogs in my head turning a million times a minute as I try and process. “Can I ask why?”

  She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I-it’s not what you think.”

  “Well, I honestly don’t know what to think. So, why don’t you explain it.”

  “I wasn’t trying to get you two in trouble.” She lets out a breath, calming the tears. “I saw Chris and Jackie go behind the dumpster wall and I couldn’t help myself. I felt so jealous….”

  So, Jackie was right. Katie has a crush on Chris.

  “You like him.”

  Katie looks at me, fresh tears in her eyes as she shakes her head. “That’s not that. It’s just…”

  If it’s not Chris, then what could she possibly be jealous about?

  Then something clicks. “Oh, Katie. It’s Jackie, isn’t it?”

  She whimpers, nodding her head.

  Holy shit. That’s why she kept staring at the party. Jackie didn’t realize it was her, not Chris. On the bright side, I guess she’s right. Everyone does fall in love with her.

  “Then why did you take the photo?”

  “I-I don’t know.” She’s a little hysterical. “I-I guess it was j-just a way for me to remind myself I’m not alone.”

  “Were you the one who sent it into the principal?”

  “N-no!” She wipes more tears away. “It was my parents. They’ve been going through my photos, and they recognized your uniforms. They sent it in as an anonymous tip.”

  What a mess. I wouldn’t believe it if it didn’t make so much sense.

  “I’m so sorry, Mike,” Katie apologizes. “This is all my fault. You have to know I never meant to cause you two trouble. I looked up to you, and now, I’ve ruined everything. God, I’m just a worthless piece of trash.”

  “Hey.” I take her tear-moistened hand. “Don’t say that. You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

  “B-but it’s my fault.” She is heave crying now. “I-it’s my fault.”

  I wrap an arm around her, pulling her into my chest. She folds into me, body shaking as she cries. And I let her, just holding on as she gets it all out.

  I know exactly how she feels.

  After her tears have dried, she detangles herself from me, eyes puffy and bloodshot.

  “Don’t hold onto this,” I tell her, brushing her long hair off her face. “You did nothing wrong, do you hear me?”

  She nods, taking a steadying breath.

  “You’re not alone either.” I grab a notebook and pen from my bag, scribbling down my number. “If you need anything, or even just a person to talk to, I don’t want you to hesitate to call me.”

  She takes the slip of paper, folding it and stowing it in her jacket.

  “Thanks, Mike.”

  “Chin up,” I tell her. “I know things look grim now, but just remember, you have friends. And, as far as the Jackie thing is concerned… Who knows?”

  She laughs, nodding her head. “I think she knows. But it’s all right.”

  Katie gives me a hug before she heads back into the hallway.

  Give her strength, Big Guy. She’s going to need it.

  It’s been three days since Chris’s accident, and my alarm goes off at the normal time on Sunday morning.

  Mom’s hairdryer is blasting, which signals the normal routine. But it isn’t a normal Sunday morning because Thomas got in late last night to visit and we haven’t had the chance to talk yet.

  So much has happened since he left. Honestly, I’m not sure where to start.

  Dad hasn’t knocked on my door yet, which means he doesn’t expect me to want to go to church. Seeing as the Pastor just tried to murder my boyfriend, I’m not exactly going to argue. I sort of can’t believe they’re going, but I guess they have commitments.

  Maybe I’ll just turn over and sleep the rest of the morning away. I don’t remember the last time I slept in on a Sunday. It was probably in the womb.

  I try to go back to sleep, but my body is wired, and I can’t. Instead, I dig for my sketchbook and flip it open to a new page. Another drawing of Chris I finished last night sits on my bedside table, under a couple other doodles. I’ll figure out where I want to put it at some point, but for now, it’s nice enough just knowing it’s not hidden away.

  After a few minutes of mindless strokes of my pencil, a knock raps against the door.

  “Come in,” I call.

  Thomas sticks his curly-haired head through the cracked door. “Hey, man.” He smiles. “Can I come in?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  And in he walks. It’s been over a month since I’ve really seen Thomas, but he looks the same. That is, except for the ridiculous soul patch he’s decided to grow.

  “I think you missed a spot shaving,” I tease him, touching my chin.

  He only laughs, stepping over to my drafting table. He shuffles the papers around, grabbing a sketch of the capitol building in Atlanta I did a few weeks ago. “This is great,” he lifts the drawing.

  “Thanks.” I set the sketchbook aside as he takes as seat on the edge of the bed.

  I’m weird and jittery around him right now. I don’t like it.

  “Mom and Dad say we have some catching up to do,” he says, folding his arms across his chest. “How about me and you play hooky and go grab some breakfast?”

  My stomach rumbles in response. “That sounds great.”

  “Awesome.” Thomas shoves off the bed, heading back for the door. “Get ready, I’ll be waiting downstairs.”

  He shuts the door behind him and I untangle myself from my sheets. I grab a towel and throw it over my shoulder, heading to the shower.

  “Mornin’.” I yawn at Rosy.

  “Hey.” She’s in front of the mirror, blinking into her mascara. “How you doing?”

  “I got to talk to Chris last night,” I tell her, turning the shower on. “He says they should be coming back next week at some point.”

  “That’s great.” She caps the tube, blinking a few more times. “I can tell you I’m not looking forward to sitting through service today. Arnold’s taking over preaching duties while Myers deals with the DUI.”

  That’s what everyone thinks happened. A simple accident. I guess it’s better that way, but I can’t believe Vanessa isn’t going to press further charges against hi
m.

  “I don’t envy you.” I laugh, sticking a hand in the stream of water to feel if it’s warm yet. “Me and Thomas are going to go grab breakfast and catch up.”

  “You gonna tell him?” She lines her lips with a pencil.

  “Yeah.”

  “Need me to come with you?”

  “I’ll be okay,” I reply. “Thanks, though.”

  “No prob.” She rolls a layer of red lipstick on, then zips up her bag and opens the door. “Love you, nerd.”

  I smile as she shuts the door.

  We grab the last available table, successfully beating the hang-over crowds. Our server takes our order then drops off my coffee and Thomas’ coke.

  “So, what’s been going on, bro?”

  I try and keep my hand steady as I add sugar into my mug. Why is this so hard? He’s the last in my family to find out. I thought it would be easier at this point, but I guess not. This is just going to be part of my life from now on. I’ll have to come out countless times. But it’s far better than the alternative.

  “There’s way too much,” I say. “So, let’s start with you first. How’s school?”

  “It’s so awesome.” Thomas leans his elbows on the table. “I mean, my schedule is hell, but I love it. I’ve been training to do the butterfly, so I can compete in two different styles, and it’s kicking my fucking ass.”

  Thomas taught me how to cuss, and it’s one of the things I love about him.

  “How’s your time looking this year?”

  “Not great,” I admit. Of course, we’re talking about swimming. “There’s been a lot going on.”

  “That sucks, man. Just keep practicing, and you’ll beat my record one day.”

  “We’ll see.” I laugh.

  “That’s all I got man,” he says. “So, it’s your turn to spill it. Bring me up to speed.”

  “Well…” I hesitate. “School’s going pretty good. A’s and B’s. Jackie and Tanner are good, Jackie’s got a secret boyfriend and Tanner’s been coding this game for more than a month. I think he’s almost finished.”

  “He’s either going to be filthy rich.” Thomas says with a chuckle, “or get arrested for hacking a government server.”