CROSS (A Gentry Boys Novella)(34)

It wasn’t Conway though. It was Stone.

My desk lamp was a sixty watt bulb, almost a spot light in the darkness. He had to have seen. He would shake his head with revulsion and walk away. He would tell his brother that I was a whacked out nutcase who mutilated herself. He would casually lay bare my secret shame.

In a panic, I dropped the scissors and took a clumsy leap to the window. I needed to shut it. Somehow I figured if I could only block Stone Gentry out within the next few seconds then it would undo what he had seen.

The frame often stuck and I wasn’t strong. I’ve heard that times of distress can uncover a magical strength but it was always the opposite for me. I heard my own gasping curses as my noodle-like arms fumbled with the window. Underneath that was the roaring in my head.

“Erin.”

He moved absurdly fast, a stealth shadow in the night. He was already at the window.

“Erin.”

He reached a hand out and grabbed my wrist as I yanked on the window frame.

“Stop,” he ordered.

I wilted. I stopped. I slid down to the floor and tucked my knees up to my chest like a little girl. Maybe Stone wasn’t heartless. Maybe if I begged the right away he would keep this to himself.

“Don’t tell him,” I choked out. “Please.”

I heard his thick exhale, either pity or exasperation. “Come outside,” he said, rather gently, and extended a hand to help me through the window.

I felt better once I was out of my room and covered by the darkness. Along the side of my house was the cracked remnant of an old paver path that had been there since before my parents bought the house. Stone sat down and waited silently for me to join him.

He was facing away, looking at the empty street. “Why were you trying to do?” he asked softly.

My face burned with humiliation. How could I explain the weird mechanics of my mind to the rough and tumble Stone Gentry? I couldn’t even really explain it to myself.

“I’m not like my mother,” I said defiantly.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“I mean, I wasn’t trying to kill myself or anything.”

He lit another cigarette. “Okay.”

I hugged my knees to my chest again. Stone continued to stare at the street and let his cigarette burn without putting it to his lips.

When he didn’t say anything for a moment I relaxed my knees, tucking them into a more comfortable position. ‘Crisscross applesauce’ was what the teachers called it in elementary school.

Then, in halting words that sounded inadequate even to me, I tried to explain how sometimes I felt like running in seventy directions at once. My head would become too cluttered to deal with all the noise and I just needed to release some of the pain before I choked on it. And despite the vague shame, for a few minutes after I felt the sting of the blade I always felt better.

Stone listened silently. When I was done talking he ground his cigarette underneath his shoe. “Con keeps telling me I need to quit,” he said wryly. “It’s a bad habit that won’t ever do me any good.”

“Con’s right.”

“He doesn’t know, does he? He doesn’t know about the ah…”

“Cutting,” I finished for him. “You might as well say it. No, I’ve managed to keep him from finding out and if he’s ever suspected he’s never said so.” I almost didn’t dare ask the next question. “Are you going to tell him?”

“You should get help, Erin.”

“I know. That’s what Roe says. But like I told her, I don’t really need to do it. And I wouldn’t really hurt myself. I can stop anytime I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“No.”

Stone opened his pack of cigarettes. At first I couldn’t tell what he was doing but then realized that he was extracting them one at a time and breaking them in half. He then stuffed the ruined pieces back into the package.

“I won’t tell him,” he finally said.

Maybe I should have felt guilty for asking Stone to keep an important secret from his only brother but all I felt was a wave of gratitude. I just couldn’t handle it, the look of hurt and bewilderment in Conway’s face when he realized I was more messed up than he ever guessed. So as cowardly as it might be, I would gladly take Stone’s help in keeping it quiet until I found a better way to deal with the problem. This time I knew I had to deal with it. Despite my bravado I couldn’t solve this on my own. I’d already tried.

“Thank you,” I breathed weakly.

I expected Stone would just make some embarrassed exit and go about his night but instead he hung around and talked for a while about things like his love of the desert and how he and Conway planned on hiking to the bottom of the Grand Canyon someday. The wind was picking up and made it tough to hear his words at times but I understood he was just going on and on to make me feel a little better. I didn’t say much and he didn’t seem to expect me to, which was nice. It was nice to just sit there and listen without being required to speak.

Eventually I started yawning but as I got to my feet and waved good night to Stone I felt more peaceful than I had in a while. There were a lot of people in my life who I counted as acquaintances, but other than Roe and Con, none of them I really thought of as friends. As I climbed carefully through my bedroom window I realized that Stone had shown me more friendship than I ever thought him capable of. I was glad to have another friend.