Damaged
Page 9
"Muffy, Muffy, Muffy," he said to his dog, "people fucking suck. They kick you when you're down, spit on you when you're up, and treat you like shit. Animals usually love you no matter what, but people will hate you for no reason at all. That's why I like animals. Fuck all those biblical sayings about people being more important than birds, or cattle, or fish. Do you see them telling each other they suck? Or steal their lunch money? Or spit in their faces the first time they see you? No, because they're more civilized than we are. You don't see birds going to war over trivial matters, dropping bombs on people, invading countries where we don't belong, killing a lot of people with smart bombs that aren't even that smart. If an asteroid slams into the earth, or we all just one day die, then I'll admit—we deserve it. Fuck the human race. Nothing but trouble. And where is God in this, if He exists? You know where He is during all this? What He's doing? I bet you He's laughing His ass off, pointing and laughing like a sick, twisted little child. Yep. And there's no way to stop it."
His mother came back some three hours later. Around that time, he was just coming out of his pit.
PART 3
ADAM AND THE GIRL
Chapter 6
A change for the better
"Email, email, email," he said, clicking onto AOL.
1 Message.
He clicked onto it. It was from Roseybabe1234.
"Hmmm, Roseybabe." He opened and read the message:
"Hi, Adam. Well, I survived the family reunion thing, thank God! LOL. There wasn't a big turnout this time like last year. I knew most of the people, except for a few. Some good food, fun little games and stuff. Almost everybody there that I didn't know, were young, probably in high school or something, and they all had a girlfriend or boyfriend. Kinda got on my nerves seeing them holding hands and kissing every 2 minutes. LOL. Anyways, well, I'm very nervous writing this, but I was wondering if you would like to be my boyfriend, or something more than friends? I know we haven't talked long, but I feel a strong connection to you. You're a sweetheart. I can always tell a good guy from the jerks. Believe me, there are plenty of them and few of you.
“Gosh, I'm nervous writing this. I've never hit on a guy before. If I'm this nervous on here, imagine me in person! I'd be a complete mess. Anyways, if you don't want to—you know—be more than just friends, that's ok too. I hope you still talk to me! I sure don't want to scare you away by this email, but I feel like it's too late to delete it now. I've just been writing for 10 minutes! Well, hope to talk to you soon, Adam. Bye, bye!"—XOXOXO
A single tear hit the F button. Adam could not believe it. A jumble of mixed feelings crashed around inside of him. He truly believed he would be single forever, alone till death do himself part. But the impossible had happened. And his aunt had once told him he would never find a nice girl sitting at home doing nothing. He pulled it off. For once, God shined upon him instead of dropping rain.
Another tear, another key.
"Oh my God..."
He hurriedly responded to her letter. Instead of feeling accepted, liked and respected, he felt violated, on guard and frail. He went into defense mode and began typing a counter letter back to her, which read: "Thanks, but no thanks. I feel very flattered that you like me and want to be my girl, but I really can't. I'm sorry. I'd like to, but it won't happen. I don't really trust many people. I don't know if we can even still be friends anymore. I'm soooo afraid to get hurt." He sent the email. Adam stared blankly at the screen for ten minutes, almost filling his keyboard with so many stray tears that it should have short-circuited. He partly regretted everything he wrote to her, but he knew why he’d done it.
The reason was simple: to stay away from being loved and hurt.
The reason was complex: to belong without being hated and treated wrongly.
The two feelings collided like two Mack Trucks. Unlimited dualistic thought with no answer... a lake of water with too many different currents.
"Uh, hi!" Roseybabe1234 wrote in an Instant Message.
Adam gasped.
"I got your email :( " she typed.
Adam quickly typed: "Sorry, no hard feelings."
"Why? Why can't we still talk?"
He wanted her so badly; he would not let it happen. "I just can't do it, Erin." He waited a whole two minutes, and she did not respond.
He thought she was gone. Forever.
"I'm crying," she wrote. Adam was, too, but would not say so.
"I'm so afraid of being hurt, you know? I just can't deal with that kind of rejection," Adam wrote.
"I won't hurt you. I SWEAR. I'm NOT a heartbreaker, Hun—sorry I called you Hun!"
Hun....
You know you want to.
"I don't know," Adam wrote, "I'm so confused."
"I promise you I won't hurt you. And I don't break promises."
Love. Happiness. Somebody to hold.
"Just give me a chance."
Adam thought he could feel her pain via the internet connection. He felt wholly responsible for making her, a possible angel, actually cry. I'm doing what kids in school did to me, and she likes me. Maybe she could make me happy.
She can break your heart.
She can heal the hole there.
He pictured Erin, a beautiful young girl, sitting home alone, hurt brutally by a callous weirdo who could not take a shot at true love.
(Frown face)
He could not stand that guilty frown.
"Erin, please, I—" he stopped himself and sniffled.
A girl like this might never come around again.
Two roads... Adam forced to choose here and now. He covered his face, head hurting. Either be alone, worry, deal with minute bits of pain spread out for eighty more years…
Or say yes, and if eventually dumped, deal with an intense shard of agony spread out over a shorter amount of time?
I am not a heartbreaker. I promise I won't hurt you...
He began to write, and as he did, much of the confusion broke away rather quickly. His heart felt like it had burst into flames. "I like you too, Erin. I have been hurt a lot before, but I really would like to be your boyfriend. So consider me yours."
She didn't respond for a moment—a year to Adam.
"You there?" he typed. Immediately after he posted it, she put up a smiley face. Adam now saw it in a different light.
"I'm here, Hun. Is it ok if I call you that now?"
"Yeah. Call me anything you like, sweetie."
Another smile from her. "So tell me, what do you look like?” she wrote. "Do you have a pic?"
"No pic, you?”
"Sorry."
"Well, I'm..."
They chatted online until nine P.M. By that time, Adam thought he knew everything about his new, first girlfriend. And he wanted to know volumes more. In truth, that was the first night in four years when Adam slept with a smile on his face. Finally, he thought the world wasn't so bad and that it had some good people in it—females that actually liked him. School was tomorrow, but that did not bother him. He didn't particularly want to go, but he accepted his duty. There were no bullies on his mind, only a thirteen-year-old girl in Pennsylvania named Erin.
***
The whole week was a fast blur—a fast, jerky, makeshift motion picture. Hardly anyone picked on him at school, and when they did, he didn't feel any worse. He did not skip one day. It was as if his life was turning around for the better. The past four years seemed to be long gone. Even his mother noticed a discernible change in her only son. His face was brighter, his mood eerily cheery, and his reasoning obedient. When she did question him about how he was feeling, he told her instead of usually rolling his eyes and mumbling. He told her he'd met a nice girl online who really liked him.
He was finally high on life, savoring it, tasting it for the first time. He believed it would only get better.
***
He could not dial her number. He was way too nervous. She'd given it to him two days ago, but his fingers would not cooperate and di
al the right numbers. Child's play turned rocket science.
On Saturday afternoon, he forced himself to call the girl he could not stop thinking about. "Ten buttons, ten digits," he said to himself. His mother had gone to work, so the house was all his. He could talk to Erin as privately as he wanted to.
Adam paced back and forth from the living room to the dining room, trying to think of what to say to her first. So many thoughts got tangled up in his mind, it was like a lint trap about to become a sweater.
He sat on the couch and looked toward the window by the back wall. The sun was blazing through, glorious for winter, throwing a distinct pattern of rays against the hardwood floor in the dining room. To Adam, there was something beautiful about it. He knew in some subconscious way he would never forget this moment: the first time he talked to his first girlfriend, the first time the sunlight warmed him instead of pissed him off.
He looked down at the portable. A bleak sliver of sunshine ran across it, accentuating it like the Holy Grail. Adam's hands were sweating. "Do or die, dammit."
So many things could go wrong if I dial that number. Maybe she'll hear my voice and think I'm a weirdo, maybe she gave me a bogus number to some bitter old woman... maybe, maybe, maybe.
Analyzing. God's biggest curse to mankind.
He grabbed the phone so quickly it almost shot out of his hand. Numbers were pushed by fingers on the brink of extinction. His face was not unlike a tense gunslinger's at high noon.
It had been dialed. It was now ringing. Adam put the phone to his ear.
A click, and a gorgeous, honeysweet young female voice eased through the receiver: "Hello?"
Adam could not speak.
"Hello?" she said again.
My girl’s voice...
"Hi," Adam mumbled, "it's me."
"Who?"
"Adam McNicols, Hun."
She made a short, excited, high-pitched little screech. "Oh my, I thought you were never going to call me."
"Yeah, I was just so nervous."
"I understand. No need to be shy around me. I'm your girl!"
In what world?
"I'm your guy." Adam looked back at the sunshine blazing through the window. Then, he heard her angelic voice: "So, what are you up to?"
"Just thinking about you," he said.
"Awww, too sweet. See, I tell you you're sweet, but you don't believe me." She giggled. Her laughter melted his heart.
“You're sweeter than I am," he said. "Sweeter than everybody."
"Awww, see? And you're sweeter than me for saying that!”
Adam was in paradise. "So, what are you doing this weekend? Anything special?"
"Me and my friend might go see Spiderman 3 later tonight."
"Cool," he said. "I hope they bring Venom back into it. He's the best bad guy character."
"And then we'll probably get pizza at this local pizza place. Adam, I tell you, they make the best pizza you could ever imagine!"
"I wish we could go out for pizza and a movie,” he said, dreaming away.
"Maybe one day. It's just a shame we don't live closer."
"I doubt you'd like me in person, Erin."
"Why do you say that?"
Adam paused. "I don't know. If we'd gone to the same school and met under different circumstances, I bet you wouldn't.”
"I bet you I would. Don't listen to the jerks in school. I don't, and there's a looooot of them."
Adam laughed so hard that a wad of snot flew out his nose. He was extremely embarrassed, but quickly remembered she could not see him. He wiped it away. "What kind of movies you like most?" he wondered.
"I like scary movies and comedies. Some romantic chick-flicks, too."
"What's your favorite scary movie?"
"Probably," she replied, "The Ring. That really freaked me out."
Adam even had that one on DVD. It was also one of his favorites. Too coincidental. Is she The One?
***
They went on talking for five entire hours, and by the time they hung up, Adam still wanted to talk some more. She made him aware that someone out there could actually care about him. The hole in his heart felt almost filled, like a missing puzzle piece finishing the big picture.
He could not stop thinking about her. He called her every day after school. And he did go to school. Without a fight with his mother. He went voluntarily, every day, for one full week. He didn't much mind being picked on by the occasional bully. At home he and his mother laughed together, spent quality time together. For hours on end, he imagined what his girlfriend looked like, smelled like, and all he wanted to do was hold her.
***
It was on a Saturday afternoon when Adam first told Erin how he really felt about her. He was sitting on the lip of the bathtub, seeking privacy from his mother in the living room. Again, sunlight shined through the Venetian blinds. Birds were chirping today.
"I'm just sooo glad it's getting closer to springtime," Erin said through the receiver.
Adam nodded with a strange little smile on his face. "The weather's been pretty warm here, too. I always sit on my porch in the summer. I like to observe people, see what they're all about."
"Summer is awesome! No school, endless weekends, swimming pools, ice cream, vacations—best time of the year, besides Christmas. What's your favorite holiday?"
"Uh, I'd say Halloween," he responded. "But you know me. I'm the writer, the eccentric, unique guy." His voice mellowed: "Erin? I have something to tell you, Sweetheart."
Every time he called her that, he felt like he was doing something right.
"Yes, Babe?" she said.
Thick beads of tears burned in his eyes. This was one of the single best experiences of his life. Not even Satan himself could have wrecked this party.
"Honey,” he said, "I—I love you. I really do love you. I don't mean to just blurt it out, but it's true. I can't sleep at night because I can't stop picturing you. Every time I go online, my heart races because I'm excited to see if you emailed me. I know people say you can't fall in love this way, but it happened to me." He meant it with every piece of his soul.
She did not respond; it caught her completely off guard.
Adam cried silently, watching the reflection of the sunlight bouncing off the tile floor.
Then, contact—"I love you too, Adam." Her voice was sweeter than the chirping birds.
Adam cried loudly.
"What's wrong, Baby?" she asked.
"Nothing. You just make me so happy. I want nothing more than to be with you, to cuddle with you, kiss you, and stare at you and try and see what you are thinking. I love you, I love you, I love you!"
She giggled and said, "I love you too, Adam."
He wiped away some tears and gurgled down some mucus. "You know I'd do anything—I’d give my life for you."
"For little old me?" She giggled.
"Definitely. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray—"
She giggled. Every time she did, Adam felt his heart beat a little faster, burn a little brighter.
"It's just so hard for me to believe we found each other over the internet and that we're together. Erin, you don't even understand what I've went through in my life. You're the only one who treats me like a human being. I guess it's just hard for me to believe I could actually feel the way I do now, compared to what I did."
"Gee, was it that bad?"
"I hated myself. I hated everybody. I used to fight everyday with my mom about going to school. It's—" Adam heard Erin's mom call for her in the background:
"Erin, get off the phone right now."
"In a minute, mom. I'm talking to my boyfriend."
"I don't care who you're talking to, I want you off that phone."
Adam frowned. He felt so close to her right now and didn't want it to end.
"Well, I guess I better go. Mom's in a bad mood," Erin told him."
"Okay. I love you, Erin."
"I love you too. By
e."
Click.
And like that, she was gone for the time being.
Adam broke down and cried. "I love you soooo much," he said in the silence, still looking at the sunshine through the blinds. He could have died at that moment, still with a smile on his face.
***
Another week later, his mother was not so happy. She entered the living room where he was sitting, a stack of mail in her right hand, and looked down at him. "I know you like her, A—”
"I love her."
"Adam, do you know how much we owe on the phone bill?”
He was afraid to ask. He had never thought about it before. His face went blank.
"Over 1200 dollars!” she said with a disgusted smile. “You don't have a job. You don't pay the bills."
"Shit, I didn't know. Sorry." It stunned him just as much as it did her.
"From now on you're either going to have to buy a phone card and call her, or just talk to her over the computer. No more long distance calls. We can't afford it."
Can't afford to feel happy.
Adam lowered his head. Angela, smacking the fan of letters against her thigh, looked at her son, finally proud of who he was turning out to be.
"Tell you what," she began, "if you clean up around here, I'll even buy you a calling card on my way home from work. How's that sound?"
"Great." He smiled.
"But you gotta do a good job. Run the vacuum, do the dishes—the things you don't like."
Adam didn't think of pushing that noisy sweeper around or doing those repulsive dishes. He could think of only one thing—
Erin with a big heart wrapped around her face.
"Consider it done," he told her.
She smiled and went for the attack—a kiss on his cheek. A gutsy move.
But he did not pull away; he accepted it.