Gone, Gone, Gone(42)

I say, “Hey, that’s like me,” in a dry voice, because clearly that’s the point. He laughs.

He says, “Yeah, she and her girlfriend were getting some shit written about them in the bathrooms. It was completely cliché and disgusting. We never thought we even needed a GSA branch here, but there you go. And the school was surprisingly open to it, and I think it’s been helpful.”

“You’re straight, aren’t you?”

He chuckles in that way again. “Yeah, I put the S in GSA.”

I snap my fingers like, “damn it.”

He’s still smiling. “I’m too old for you anyway.”

And then he gives me a hug.

He asks me how I’m coping with freshman year. I make a face and hit him. Then he asks how I’m coping with the shootings. I give him my usual one-word answers, but he says, out of nowhere, “You’re used to saying a lot with your eyes, aren’t you?”

It scares me, being noticed. But I nod. Because I like that I didn’t have to play the dead brother card or the cancer card for him to understand that there’s stuff I’m not saying.

Sometimes, it’s nice to remember that I have stuff I’m not saying.

Maybe I’m not as talked out as I thought.

Because there are things I should have said last night when Craig was telling me that he wasn’t ready, and telling me that I wasn’t ready.

I should have said:

It’s up to me whether I’m okay with the possibility of being broken.

Plus, I’m a tough little son of a bitch, and don’t you forget it.

If you really don’t want to be with me, you cannot slide out of it sideways. You have to mean it.

Tomorrow is the one-week anniversary of realizing I’m in love with you.

I catch my breath.

I should have said something. And this is maybe the first time I have ever really meant that.

Jack says, “You okay?”

“Thinking about a boy.”

And then Jack makes me talk about Craig. And I do.

I tell him everything.

“Yeah,” Jack says. “You need to fight for this boy.”

And then he tells me about his ex-girlfriend, and we get more chips.

Eventually, Jasper calls me and says she’s here to bring me to therapy. I tell Jack I have to go spill my issues to a paid professional, and he says, “All right, frosh—”

“I’m a sophomore!”

“—get moving. I’ll watch from the window and make sure you’re safe.”

And he does. He really does. He goes upstairs with me, and I look back while I’m walking—running—to Jasper’s car. He waves.

I feel really good about all of this, but it’s not much to brag about to Craig.

That evening, after therapy, there’s another shooting. A guy gets shot while pumping gas.

It seems so awful and surreal. Couldn’t he have been doing something else? Anything else? Didn’t he watch the news? Is anyone but me and the f*cking sniper watching the news?

We’re safe at school. We’re safe at the gas station. So where the f*ck are we really safe?

Jack IMs me. I tell him I’m scared but not any more scared than I feel like I’m supposed to be, and he says: good. u hold on. C u tomorrow, freshman.

I have a friend. I really do. And he’s really my first friend in Maryland, in a lot of ways, because Craig doesn’t IM me.

And I don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t care about the sniper, or because he doesn’t care about me.

So I open up a chat window for him.

I start a conversation. It’s not the conversation we need to have, but it’s something.

He deserves that.





CRAIG

I’M HAPPY FOR THE KID AND EVERYTHING, BUT REALLY, how the f*ck does Lio get a friend before me? I live here.

told you i could do it :) Lio IMs me. I want to rip out that smiley’s eyes.

But I just say, you’re awesome.

More importantly, how did I get through more than a year at this school without it bothering me that I have no friends?

Oh, right: Cody.

Oh, right: Lio.

I don’t really feel sorry for myself. After all, it’s all my fault. And the truth is, I could have friends if I wanted them, but I don’t really want them. Honestly, if I could be friends with anyone in the world right now, and this sounds really stupid, it wouldn’t be the kids in the cafeteria who are so charmed they even get their food for free, or that junior girl who everyone says is really hot, or Mansfield or anyone else in my karate class. I think I’d choose my brother.

But he doesn’t have time for me.

So I guess I feel a little sorry for myself. And that night I realize I’ve started spending more and more time outside, standing there, volunteering. Not to get shot. I’m not going to get shot. But I’m all right with welcoming the possibility of something happening. To me. Anything.

To me instead of to Cody instead of to Todd instead of to Lio.

Because a part of me is nervous for him that he went to GSA alone, that he had to talk to people he didn’t know, that he didn’t have backup, that he was probably scared, and even though nothing bad happened and it’s over, I am still nervous, and this is one of those lines again that I am not supposed to cross.