A Crooked Mile (Rust Book 1)

by Samantha Arthurs

  It admittedly felt nice to be back on top, Alec couldn’t deny that. They had another game the following Tuesday night, another win, and Alec was riding the high of two victories in a row. His apprehension about the season, about playing at all, had started to ebb away with each practice and drill. He was feeling good about something for the first time in a long time, and things were slowly fitting back together. He returned to his old lunch table that week, settling in with the others to talk about their latest victory and what was coming next. They talked about scouts and how they were due to start showing up at games, and they speculated together about who would get an offer to what school.

  As basketball took the forefront Alec began to drop the ball on other things in his life, and one of those things was his English project with Ramona. They hadn’t made time to meet up again to continue filming, and while he tried to make time for it, it just hadn’t happened yet. He wasn’t feeling to down about it until he arrived in class on Wednesday and slid into his back row seat, only to find that when she entered she went back to the front row. Alec frowned and waved at her across the room, only to be met with a vacant stare and then nothing in return. It began to dawn on him that he might just be in the dog house, but Mrs. Bond didn’t leave him any time to question it. They dove right into Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, reading passages aloud and discussing their meanings.

  By the time class was over, Alec’s own heart was pretty dark and dismal. He was out of his seat quickly so he could catch up with Ramona, finding her at her locker where she was switching out some of her books. He leaned onto the locker beside of hers, brushing his dark hair back off his forehead and setting his mouth into a tight frown. He didn’t know where to go from here, but he knew he had to do something. It hurt to have her mad at him, especially since they still had to spend quite a bit of time together to finish things up in the next couple of weeks.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly, clearing his throat a bit. “I know I haven’t been around enough lately, but I promise I’m going to make a better effort. Really, I’m not just blowing smoke. I’ve just been riding the start of season high, that’s all.”

  Ramona rolled her eyes, though she did acknowledge him by turning to face him. One hand was still inside of her locker clutching her French book; the other was sitting on her hip in a cocky sort of pose. “Oh? You’re sorry, huh? For which part are you actually apologizing? The part where you haven’t talked to me in days? The part where I’ve been working on our project alone so it actually gets done? Or maybe the part where you’ve gone back to being your previous dickish self which means you haven’t had time to bother with your lame partner? I mean, I’m not sure if your blanket statement covers all of those things or just one.”

  Alec blinked at her as he took in what she was saying, his jaw dropping a bit. She was really dressing him down, and he was aware that everyone passing in the hallway could hear them. There wasn’t anywhere to go for privacy though, not to mention there wasn’t enough time, and it was very clear that there would be no putting this conversation off at this point. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt your feelings, but it’s not fair of you to be mad at me about this! I’m dedicated to our project, I really am, but I’m also dedicated to the team and my team mates. They also happen to my friends, and I’m just trying to do my best to balance everything. Can’t you understand that?”

  “Here is what I understand, Alec. For a little while I thought you might be different. I mean you weren’t exactly who I thought you were going to be, you know? We were having a good time together, you weren’t judging me and I wasn’t judging you. You told me all this stuff about how you were different, that you were changing but they weren’t, but now look at you. A couple of games in and you are right back where you started,” Ramona pointed out, looking more disappointed than angry now. “Nothing changed, not really. You thought you wanted to be different, but you really don’t. You want to fit right in with them again; you want to be part of the status quo. That’s fine, that’s just fine, but you aren’t dragging my grade down with you on your way back to their level. I’ll finish what needs to be finished, and don’t you worry about it. You just go live out your high school jock fantasy.”

  She slammed her locker shut and walked away, the second bell ringing shrilly. Alec just stood there and watched her go, not sure what to say or do at that point. She wasn’t entirely right, but she wasn’t necessarily wrong either. It had felt good to fall back into his old normal, to let himself believe that it was where he belonged. It wasn’t though, and deep down it didn’t even feel all that good to be back there with those people. He had changed, a lot, and two good games weren’t going to reverse that. He thought about his talk with Doctor Linn then, their conversation about how sometimes you outgrow your friends. The pleasure of winning a game or two, that sweet tingle that came with accomplishment, wouldn’t last forever. This wasn’t happiness, this was just playing pretend, and it hurt to admit that to himself but it was a realization he’d needed.

  By the time lunch rolled around, Alec had made up his mind about things. He strode into the cafeteria and made his way through the line, carrying his hot tray past the basketball teams table without even looking at them. He strode right to the table in the corner, sliding into a chair and opening up his milk as he sat down.

  “So,” he said softly, looking at Ramona across the table. “Think our project is still salvageable? I mean I’d hate to waste all that good material and everything. I’m committed to this if you are, Sanders. Just say the word.”

  Ramona stared back at him for a long moment, pretending to consider before she cracked a tiny smile. She gave him a nod of the head, relenting a little before she could help herself. “Yeah, I’m committed,” she answered softly, her shoulders relaxing a bit.

  Across the cafeteria Cameron Eccoles stared at the two of them, a look of disgust on his face. For a little while he’d thought he might get his best friend back and that things would return to how they were meant to be, but it was obvious that wasn’t going to happen. They had lost Alec, most likely for good, and there wasn’t anything any of them could do. He’d made his choice, and that was that.

  Chapter Sixteen: The Shape of Things to Come

  After making things right with Ramona, Alec tried hard to find a balance in his life. Basketball took up a very obvious amount of time, but it was all scheduled and regimented so he was able to find ways to work around it. They found time to work on their project, completing the rest of the film over one long weekend and sending it to Bryson to review. With his ankle officially broken, something their father had ranted and raved about for days, he was spending even more time in front of his computer in the evenings. He was looking forward to having something to work on that was a challenge, and according to him their multiple takes and bloopers were definitely just that.

  On top of their work for English there was other homework, and his mother had already insisted that they start shopping for Christmas. She wanted to get ahead on things, and to make trips to Fort Benton while the weather was erring on the side of better rather than worse. Family dinners were still mandatory, tense affairs that happened whenever his father was home, which was more often than not lately. Even lawyers had to plan around the winters in Montana, and that meant less traveling and more working from home. Alec escaped the house as much as he could, visiting the Sanders house or trying to convince Ramona to go to the movies or the diner. She always had a million excuses as to why it was better stay in, but he got the impression that she didn’t want him spending money on her. That and, well, that she was afraid of being seen with him in public.

  Alec didn’t think that she was ashamed of him, but that it was quite the opposite. He felt like Ramona was afraid he would be ashamed of her or that they would run into his so-called group of friends while out and that things would get worse. Neither of them especially liked the scenario, but it didn’t scare him the way it likely scared her. He wasn’t afraid to take whatev
er they tried to dish out, but if he was in her shoes he probably wouldn’t want to deal with it either.

  So they stayed in. They watched movies and played board games with her siblings, or she came over to his house whenever his father wasn’t around (which was a rarity and it bothered him). At his place they played video games with Bryson, or baked cookies and brownies in the expansive but under used kitchen. It had been a nice time, and Alec had been bordering on the edge of actual happiness, until a landslide came along and tossed him right back down to the bottom.

  Like most things, depression has a way of sneaking up on you just when you think things are going good. Alec took his medication every day at the same time, to ensure that he didn’t miss a dose or accidentally double up. He had felt a little better since Doctor Linn had adjusted the dosages, and he thought he was well on his way to leveling back out. The team was doing well, and there were already whispers of possibly returning to the state tournament this year. His school work was good too, his grades were top notch at mid-term, and he had a great feeling about their Wuthering Heights project. He and Ramona made a good pair, and he was especially thankful for her friendship. He had been sailing on stormy seas for a long time, but she was one of the few people who wasn’t afraid of it. She took it all in stride, she took the time to try and understand him, and things had been good between them since she had accused him of going back to the person he had been before.

  Alec didn’t like that person. He wasn’t sad to leave him behind. He liked things the way they were, right now, and he was starting to believe that things could only be uphill from here. Only things never go as we plan them, and rarely do we easily overcome our struggles. Such was the case for Alec, when he woke up just a handful of days before Thanksgiving break despondent and foggy headed, unable to get out of bed.

  He knew this feeling well, had experienced it numerous times in his young life. There was no rhyme or reason to it; it was like someone had flipped a switch in another room without him knowing. He had gone to bed fine, his homework organized neatly on his desk and a copy of Fahrenheit 451 on his nightstand where he’d fallen asleep reading for class. He’d been so optimistic just eight hours ago, ready for practice after school and for a quiz in Spanish class. Now the world felt like it was weighing down on him, his chest tight and his hands clammy. The idea of leaving his bed felt horrible, and also impossible, so he burrowed deeper beneath the covers as though they would provide some sort of shield.

  Alec was still there after his alarm went off, and he stayed perfectly quiet and still until his mother appeared in his room. She didn’t have to ask what was wrong, one look told her the truth, and she perched gingerly on the edge of his bed. He allowed her to gently brush his hair back and quietly fuss over him, her whispers undeniably a bit soothing. She asked if she could do anything and he responded with a slight shake of the head, curling his legs up a bit more as a hint of morning cold crept in.

  His mother gathered up his homework to send along with Bryson, driving the younger boy to school since it was snowing outside and the bus had long since run. His father was home, but he was puttering around downstairs and didn’t make any moves to check on Alec. That was really just as well, the last thing he needed or wanted was to be berated.

  For most of the morning he drifted in and out of sleep, only leaving to use the bathroom and to get a granola bar from the kitchen. Once he was back in bed he tried to watch some television, but his interest didn’t hold at all. He ended up turning it off, curling back up with his arms wrapped around a pillow, his face buried in its downy softness. It took a few minutes before he realized he was crying, hot tears that soaked the pillowcase and made his face damp. He sucked in a breath, buried his face in deeper, and outright sobbed. It only served to make the ache in his chest worst, but once he got started he found that he couldn’t stop.

  From her post down the hall his mother heard him and hurried into his room and she crawled onto the bed beside of him. She hugged him tight and let him cry, speaking more of her soothing words. This time they didn’t help. He just continued to cry until he literally couldn’t anymore, his eyes stinging and his nose dripping. His mother fetched a box of tissues and a glass of water, before getting on the phone with Doctor Linn. He had a prescription for Ativan for the really bad episodes, and when his mother returned she gave him more water and one of the tiny pills. Alec didn’t put up a fight; he just swallowed it down quickly and then turned the television back on. He made it through half a rerun of Boy Meets World before the heaviness subsided and he slipped into a deeper sleep.

  It was late in the day when Alec finally woke up, his head pounding and his mouth dry. They were mutual side effects of too much crying and the heavier dose of medication, stretching to reach for the glass of water on his nightstand. As he drank he looked out his window, the world a swirling wall of white. It was really snowing now, and it wasn’t likely to stop any time soon. He was so entranced that he didn’t even pay attention to the sounds of doors opening and closing, followed by voices in the downstairs hallway.

  At least not until he heard Ramona speak. What was she doing here?

  Glancing at the clock, Alec saw that it was nearly four o’clock, which meant that school was definitely over for the day. Had he really been asleep the entire time? Everything felt fuzzy around the edges, and he was still trying to wrap his mind around it when there was a knock on the door and then Bryson stuck his head into the room.

  “You have a guest. I tried to talk her out of it. I told her you’d probably be asleep, but she’s persuasive. Also kind of mean,” Bryson told Alec, wincing when a small fist punched him hard in the shoulder. He stepped aside and let Ramona slip into the room her book bag over her shoulder.

  “I brought your homework,” she announced, unzipping her bag. “Your mom offered me a ride home, and I accepted it. Anything is better than the bus, believe me. Anyway I just wanted to see if you were okay and to drop all this off. I asked your teachers for your assignments, and they were more than happy to give them to me. I figured you wouldn’t want to fall behind. Not even on a mental health day.”

  Alec thought back to the last time he’d done this, and he remembered telling Ramona the next day that sometimes he just needed a break from reality. That was both true and false, because it wasn’t a planned day off. It never was, not with him anyway. So he was taking a break from reality, but it was more like a forced break. No, it was more like a temporary divorce from reality during which he spent some time in his own world where things were much more ominous and not nearly as fun.

  He realized that he had just been sitting and staring without actually saying anything for a length of time that could be considered inappropriate, so he pulled himself up into a sitting position and accepted the papers she was handing over to him. “Thanks,” he said gently, hearing the door click shut as his brother left the room. “I probably won’t get any of it done tonight, but there’s always tomorrow.”

  Ramona frowned and sat her bag on the floor, pulling out his rolling desk chair and wheeling it over by his bed. She sat down beside him and pulled up her feet, which were clad only in socks, resting them on the very edge of his mattress “Your mom said you weren’t feeling well, but she wouldn’t really elaborate. Bryson wouldn’t tell me anything at all though. He says it’s your business, not his.”

  “Well, Bry is extremely loyal. He doesn’t want to tell people anything without my consent. I think that’s a pretty good personality trait,” Alec explained with a soft sigh, putting the papers down beside him on the bed. “I don’t feel well, but it’s not because of a cold or anything like that. I was telling the truth before, when I told you that sometimes I need a mental health day, only it wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t because school was wearing me down, or because basketball is exhausting me. It’s not anything like that, it’s because my mental state really does determine sometimes whether or not I can function.”

  “I follow you a little bit, but I’m not sure
I really understand what you’re saying,” Ramona confessed to him, a faint flush rising to her cheeks. She wanted to understand him, she really did, but the pieces weren’t fitting together quite right to form the bigger picture.

  Alec closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to stay calm. He took a few quick, deep breaths to quell the bit of anxiety that was still lingering despite the Ativan, looking at her head on when he finally reopened his red eyes. They were bloodshot and dry, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore.

  “Look, Ramona, it’s like this. When I was pretty young I would get these moods. I’d just feel so sad for no reason, like the whole world was just caving in on me. It started with that, and then panic attacks came later. Once or twice I had them at school, right in the middle of class, just out of nowhere. My father thought it was a phase I was going through, just something else to outgrow like allergies or not fitting into my nose. It wasn’t like that though, it was more than that,” he told her, his voice soft and unsure. He was saying it out loud though, letting the truth finally spill freely from his lips.

  “My mother stepped up to the plate though, because it worried her. I saw a child psychologist, they got me on some medicine, and for a little while things were alright. Then we left Atlanta and moved here, and my parents shipped me off to Colorado. I know that, ultimately, their hearts were in the right place. They wanted the best for me, and in their mind it was an education at some fancy school where I’d live most of the year. What I wanted didn’t matter, and what I wanted was to just be with the rest of my family. I missed my mom and brother when I was away, but my father has an iron fist and what he says goes. So I went to Colorado. I played basketball, I joined clubs, and I pushed myself to the top of my class. Then anxiety returned, and I started to have the panic attacks again. The sadness came later, but when it did it came on strong. I just felt overwhelmed with sorrow all of the time, and things started to seem so bleak and pointless. My grades slipped. My parents were getting notes sent home. My father came down to talk to me, and really that just translated into screaming at me for not being good enough.”