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Confessions of a Teenage Leper

Page 19

by Ashley Little


  “Yeah, I had some other stuff going on.”

  “I know. Maybe next time,” she said. “You’d love it. I promise.”

  I was hoping there wouldn’t be a next time. I turned the coin over in my hand. “There’s an armadillo on it.”

  “Yeah. It’s the mascot here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they used armadillos for testing, and that’s how they discovered that the sulfone drugs worked. So the armadillo’s like a symbol of hope. You know, that the disease can be cured.”

  “But it’s also the reason some of us are here…”

  “Well,” Jane said, shrugging. “It’s a two-sided coin.”

  “Huh.” I flipped it over. It was the same on the other side. “Thanks.” I set it on my nightstand.

  “Listen,” Jane said, “I wasn’t going to tell you this because I didn’t want you to be mad at me.”

  “What is it?”

  “Promise you won’t be mad.”

  “I don’t know. Tell me first, and then I’ll tell you if I’m mad or not.”

  She took a deep breath. “I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m going back to New York.”

  “Tomorrow?” My eyes began to well up. “And you weren’t even going to tell me?”

  “See. You’re mad.”

  “I’m not mad. I’m…just…” I shook my head, fanning my face. I couldn’t stop the tears from coming.

  Jane sat down on the bed beside me and gave me a hug. “Oh! Don’t cry! Okay, you can cry if you want. But don’t get any snot on my blouse. It’s dry clean only.”

  I half-laughed, half-cried as she hugged me and rocked me. I hadn’t realized it until she’d said she was leaving, but Jane was my best friend.

  “You can’t leave tomorrow,” I said.

  “Why not? Did we have plans tomorrow?”

  “No. It’s just…it’s too soon.”

  “I’ve been here six weeks, Abby. I’m ready to get back to my life.”

  “But—”

  “Things to see. People to do.” She clicked her tongue twice, gave me a wink.

  “But, I need you here. What am I going to do without you?” I said.

  She shrugged. “Play checkers with Barry?”

  We laughed.

  “He’s actually pretty good,” she said.

  I cried harder.

  “Oh, honey, you’ll be fine.”

  “No. I won’t be.”

  “We can write! You write to me first and I’ll write you back. Promise. It’ll be fun. It’ll be like in the olden days when people actually wrote letters to each other.”

  I sniffled. “Okay,” I said, wiping my nose on the back of my hand.

  “Yeah?” She handed me a tissue.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Okay.” I blew my nose.

  “Cool.”

  I smiled at her through my tears. She gave me another hug and smoothed my hair. “You’re going to be alright,” Jane said. “Everything is going to be alright.”

  It was hard to believe, but I wanted so badly for her to be right.

  Saying goodbye to Jane the next morning was really hard. I wanted her to go back to her life in New York and have fun and eat cheesecake, but I also wanted her to stay at Carville and be my friend. I was pretty lacking in the friend department, and I was going to miss her.

  As Jane waved to me through the window of her taxi, I got the feeling that it wouldn’t be the last time I saw her. Maybe I’d visit her in New York. Maybe she’d visit me in California, or wherever the hell I ended up. There are people who come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime, or whatever bullshit Jane would say. I guess she was one of those people. I just didn’t know which one yet. She blew me a kiss and I caught it and tucked it away in my back pocket for safekeeping. Whatever little bits of my heart Marla and Liz had left intact broke away then, as Jane’s taxi blew up dust clouds along the only road out of town.

  I stayed in the parking lot after her taxi was gone, kicking rocks and feeling sorry for myself, wondering if I’d ever hear her laugh again and trying not to cry. After a few minutes, this little purple truck pulled in, blasting hard techno. Pink fuzzy dice dangled from the rearview mirror. Two young guys got out and slammed their doors shut. One of them was slender and blond and the other one…the other one was Dean.

  My knees buckled as I gaped at him. He had dyed the tips of his hair hot pink and pierced both of his ears. I think he was wearing eyeliner. He was grinning as he walked toward me, arms spread wide.

  “Hey, sis,” he said, as he folded me into a hug.

  “You asshole.” I sobbed into his neck. “You fucking asshole.”

  “Nice to see you too.” He stepped back.

  I glanced at the other guy.

  “This is Kyle,” Dean said. “Kyle, Abby.”

  “Hi.” Kyle shook my hand, smiling. He wore a rhinestone pinkie ring. “I love your hair,” he said. “It’s so pretty.”

  “Kyle’s a photographer,” Dean said.

  I touched my hair. Jane had braided it for me the night before and I’d slept on it wet so it was all wavy and volumized. “Thanks,” I said.

  “You’re welcome!”

  I turned back to Dean. “Why didn’t you call? Or text someone? Do you know how worried we’ve all been? You’re a missing person, Dean. Police are looking for you. Mom and Dad—”

  “My phone was stolen,” he said.

  “And, so what? There are no other phones on planet Earth you could’ve used?” I gestured at Kyle. “He doesn’t have a phone you could’ve borrowed?”

  “Look, Abby. I needed some time, okay.”

  “Time for what? Time to make us think you had been kidnapped? Tortured? Murdered? Because that’s what we thought, Dean. I thought I was never going to see you again.”

  Kyle gave me a sad pouty face and looked over at Dean.

  Dean sighed. “I’m sorry, Abby. I didn’t mean to…I just…I really needed some time to figure things out. Time where I didn’t talk to anyone from home.”

  “But you could’ve just texted! Just texted or emailed to let us know you were alright!” I yelled at him.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I was selfish,” he said.

  “Pfff, that’s the understatement of the year,” I said.

  “Look, do you have anything to drink? We’ve been driving for hours and we’re really thirsty.”

  I sighed and spun around, leading them back to my apartment.

  I got them some water and they sat at the little table and I sat on the bed, staring at them.

  “I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to forgive you for this,” I said.

  “Okay,” Dean said. Like it didn’t really matter one way or the other.

  “Have you seen Mom and Dad yet?” I said.

  Dean shook his head. “I wanted to see you first.”

  “So they don’t know you’re alive?”

  Dean shrugged.

  I pulled out my phone.

  “Just wait,” he said.

  “What? I have to tell them.”

  “Just wait a little while. We’re heading there after this anyway.”

  I set my phone down beside me. “They know everything, Dean. The FBI seized your hard drive. You’re in some serious shit.”

  He nodded slowly, scratching his thumbnail against a groove in the table.

  I eyed Kyle. “Is he…? Is this…? Who is he?”

  Kyle grinned at me. “Ever heard of the Kyle High Club?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “It’s kind of a long story,” Dean said.

  “Look where we are,” I said, glancing around the room. “Do you think I’m going anywhere soon?”

  “Okay, well. Thing is…” Dean fiddled with the rim of his water glass.

  “Just tell her,” Kyle said.

  Dean shrugged. “Kyle and I are both webcam boys,” Dean said.

  “Were,” Kyle said, touching Dean’s hand.

  “Right. Were.”

 
; “Okay…” I said.

  “We both got into it around the same time,” Dean said.

  “And we were always in competition!” Kyle said. “We were always trash-talking each other to steal customers.”

  Dean blushed. “Yeah, so, we ended up having a lot of the same clients, and we’d chat about which ones were good and which ones to block and, you know, basically helped each other figure stuff out.”

  “And then…?” Kyle said.

  “And then, Kyle had the idea that we should join forces. Like, create a joint site so that we could maximize our profits.”

  Kyle nodded. “What can I say? I’m an upwardly mobile twink!”

  Dean gazed at him, puppy-dog eyed. “But I told him if we were actually going to do it, I wanted to meet in person, so I could tell if he was legit or not and see if we’d actually be able to work together,” Dean said.

  “Turns out, we work very well together.” Kyle winked at me.

  “Uh-huh,” I said. “So, where have you been all this time?”

  “Have you ever heard of the Castro?” Dean said.

  “No,” I said.

  Kyle gasped.

  “You mean, like, Fidel Castro?”

  “Oh, honey,” Kyle said. “You haven’t lived.”

  I glared at him.

  “The Castro is this neighborhood in San Francisco,” Dean said.

  I nodded. So Aaron had been right.

  “It’s a magical place,” Kyle said.

  I raised my eyebrows at him.

  “There’s just so much history there. It’s really, really a special place. An important place.”

  “It was one of the first gay neighborhoods in the U.S.,” Dean said.

  “And it fucking rocks,” said Kyle.

  They grinned at each other. “Kyle has an apartment there,” Dean said.

  “I see.”

  “So, long story short, I helped your brother come out of the closet this week, and he helped me realize that I don’t want to be a web-whore anymore.”

  “I’m quitting too,” Dean said. “It was good money while it lasted, but I’m over it.”

  “Plus, I’d be way too jealous,” Kyle said.

  They both laughed.

  “So you weren’t kidnapped and locked in a basement. You were never hurt by anyone,” I said.

  “No,” Dean said. “I was figuring out my life.”

  “So…what now?”

  “Now, we’re going to see Mom and Dad.”

  “He’s going to come out to your parents,” Kyle said, squeezing Dean’s hand.

  “Yep,” Dean said, taking a deep breath, nodding. “Then, we’re going to pack up all my stuff and drive back to California and…I’m moving in with Kyle.”

  Kyle’s face looked like a jack-o’-lantern, he was smiling so big.

  “Whoa. What? You’re moving to San Francisco?”

  He nodded, looking happier than I’d ever seen him.

  “What about graduating from high school?”

  “I can finish over there. All I have to do is write my finals anyway.”

  “What about…your life?”

  “My life sucked.” He shrugged. “I’m getting a new one.”

  “So…?”

  “So, I wanted to come say goodbye to you before I left.”

  “Oh.” I looked down at my hands.

  “Don’t look so sad. You’ve wanted me gone for years.”

  “Not really though,” I said in a small voice. “Not that far away.”

  “You can come visit anytime,” Dean said. “There’s even a pull-out couch for you to sleep on.”

  “Oh, my friends will adore you! You have to come,” Kyle said. “Please? Please? Please?”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Yay!” He clapped his hands.

  Dean smiled. The three of us sat quiet for a moment. Kyle and Dean gazed at each other, their eyes shining.

  “Well,” I said, “I’m just glad you’re alright. I was…it was really scary, okay? You don’t even know.”

  Dean nodded. “I know it was a jerk move,” he said. “Not calling.”

  “Total jerk move.”

  He nodded again.

  “You aged Mom ten years. At least ten. Maybe twenty.”

  “Shit.”

  “Dad didn’t really care though. He always liked me best anyway.”

  “Shut up.” He play-punched me in the shoulder.

  I laughed.

  “Well.” Dean cleared his throat. “I guess we’d better get going. We want to make it to Texas tonight.”

  “Ooh! I’m so excited to see Texas,” Kyle said. “I’ve never been.”

  “Huh,” I said.

  “Is it true that everything’s bigger in Texas?” he asked Dean.

  Dean’s face flushed as he laughed, shaking his head.

  “I guess I’ll find out soon enough,” Kyle said.

  Dean stood up and tucked in his chair, so did Kyle.

  “I’ll walk you back,” I said, standing.

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to,” Dean said.

  “I want to.”

  He nodded and we all headed out the door and down the stairs.

  On the way back to the parking lot, Kyle and Dean held hands. I walked along beside them, and for the first time in ages, felt something like peace.

  “Dean?” I said, as we approached the shiny purple truck.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m happy for you,” I said. “I really am. For both of you.”

  “Thanks, Abs.”

  Kyle flashed me a megawatt smile. Even his teeth were shiny. “It was so great to meet you!” He hugged me and kissed me on both cheeks. “And you are welcome to come visit us anytime! Come sooner than later!” He got in the truck and started it up, then fiddled with the stereo.

  I stared at Dean. “He just kissed me,” I said.

  “Yup.”

  “But…does he know what this is? Why I’m in here?”

  “Yup.”

  “What the—?”

  Dean shrugged. “That’s just Kyle.”

  “He’s…”

  “Yup.” Dean laughed, then hugged me. “Bye, Abby.”

  “Hey, thanks for coming up here. I…it really means a lot to me that you came.”

  He nodded and opened the passenger door of the truck.

  “Bye, Dean.”

  “See ya later, sister.”

  I waved as they pulled out of the parking lot. Kyle honked the horn and they both waved to me, techno music blasting the bass of a heartbeat.

  On the way back to my apartment I texted my mom: Dean’s okay. He’s on his way to see you. Just left here. New friend in tow.

  She replied right away: Thank God!!! Who’s this friend?

  I typed: His name is Kyle.

  I touched my cheek where Kyle had kissed me, then added: I think you’ll like him.

  I slept well that night for the first time since Dean had left home. I didn’t have any nightmares. I didn’t have any night sweats. When my alarm went off in the morning, I could actually get out of bed. I felt a sharp icicle stab into the center of my chest when I remembered that Jane was gone. And then ten more icicles pierced me when I realized that she would be gone tomorrow, and the next day, and every day after that. But I didn’t cry. I hurried to get ready and hustled to breakfast so that I would have time to catch the bus to the clinic in Baton Rouge. I wanted to talk to Dr. Rodriguez. I knew I had to talk to somebody, because I had a lot of feelings swimming around inside me that I didn’t know how to sort out or what to do with, and I didn’t want to keep them all inside. It felt like they could boil over and explode at any moment. I’m not sure what that would look like, but I knew it would be messy.

  We sat in Dr. Rodriguez’s new office. It was much bigger and painted sky blue, and the sun shone through the blinds, making all the dust particles in the air sparkle.

  “I like your new office,” I said.

  “Me too,” she said.r />
  “The posters are gone.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “That’s good,” I said.

  “Why is that good?”

  “I hated the posters.”

  She folded her hands together and studied me. “Hate is a very strong word, Abby.”

  “Well, I strongly disliked the posters,” I said. “Maybe even hated them. Let me think. Yep, I hated them.”

  “Any particular reason the posters elicited such strong emotions from you?”

  I picked at my nails for a while.

  “Abby?”

  “I found them insulting,” I said, looking up at her. “Like they were rubbing it in my face.”

  “Rubbing what in your face?”

  “With the figure skating and the mountain climbing.”

  She looked at me, her mouth a tight, thin line.

  “Because I won’t be able to do any of those things anymore. I won’t be able to ‘reach for the stars’ or ‘live my dreams’ or any of that crap.”

  “Because of your injuries?”

  “I can’t even cheer anymore,” I said. “I’m basically an invalid.”

  “I’d say that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

  “That’s easy for you to say! You’re not the one who—”

  She crinkled her face at me. Her eyebrows knit together into one perfect fuzzy unit.

  “Oh forget it,” I said. “Never mind.”

  “I’m here to help you, Abby. What can we talk about today that would best help you? Is it the posters? It can be anything you want. You can say anything you want in here. You don’t need to censor yourself. I’m not going to get angry with you. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “So…?”

  “What I really want to know is, why?”

  “Why?”

  “Why did this happen to me?”

  She sighed. “Abby, for some questions, there are no answers.”

  I rubbed my eyes and held my head in my hands. Suddenly, it was too heavy to hold up.

  “How are you feeling these days?” she asked.

  “I…I have a lot of feelings.”

  She nodded. “That’s perfectly normal.”

  I raised my head. “Yeah, but…I want to get them out,” I said, pushing my palms away from me.

 

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