aterovis_bleedinghearts.pm6

aterovis_bleedinghearts.pm6 Page 6

by Arlene Chance

  I had never had thoughts like this before. I’d never understood how anyone could even consider hurting themselves, let alone killing themselves. And here I was trying to think of the best way. I knew where Dad kept a gun in his bedroom. He’d made me learn how to shoot 59

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  and I was good, but I didn’t like guns. There was no way I could follow through with that. I could swallow some pills, but I didn’t know what kind or how many or even if we had anything that would work. I didn’t want to get halfway done and have it not work. I didn’t think I was strong enough to slit my wrists. Maybe I could just lie out here and hope I would die of exposure. The temperature had dropped quickly, and even though it was only the middle of September, it was only in the upper 40s. I was shivering violently as I knelt in the middle of my back yard in the pouring rain with lightning flashing and thunder crashing all around me.

  I don’t know how long I had been sitting there when a voice penetrated my dark reverie. “Killian!” I got the impression it wasn’t the first time it had called my name.

  Before I could even raise my head, someone was at my side. I looked up through the rain pouring down my face and couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Asher!

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. My voice was thick from crying.

  “I came to see how you were doing, but I can see for myself. Obviously, not well. Come on. You have to come inside. It’s freezing out here, and you’re soaked.” When I didn’t move he picked me up and carried me inside. I let him. I was past putting up a fight.

  We came back in through the sliding glass doors just as Mom came into the room.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped when she saw us, “What happened?”

  I guess we did look pretty bad. I was soaked to the bone from the torrential downpour, and Asher had gotten pretty wet, too, even in just the few minutes that he was out there. At least Asher was wearing a jacket, although I was pretty sure the black suede would be ruined. He came the rest of the way in and lowered me to the couch before turning back to my mother.

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  “He’s okay physically, but he’s really upset. I found him in the backyard,” he said. “He needs to get into some dry clothes, though.”

  My mom stood, staring at me with one hand over her mouth. After what seemed like forever she still hadn’t responded, so Asher said, “Mrs. Kendall?”

  She looked at him as if she’d just noticed him for the first time, “Oh, Asher, could you leave us alone for just a minute. Don’t leave; I think I’ll need your help. I just need a few minutes alone...”

  “Okay, I’ll go get some towels,” he said after she had faded out, and he left the room.

  Mom walked slowly to my side and knelt on the floor.

  She reached out a trembling hand and smoothed back the wet hair that was plastered to my forehead.

  “Baby, what were you doing out there?” she said, almost in a whisper.

  I turned my head so I didn’t have to look into her eyes. “I wanted to die,” I whispered back.

  Her hand on my arm began to tremble and she began to cry softly.

  “Oh, God! Killian, I’m so sorry,” she cried. She reached up and turned my face towards her. “Baby, I don’t care if you are gay or...or...whatever. I love you with all my heart and that will never change. I think I’ve always known you were different. And that’s not a bad thing, it’s just...it’s going to take some adjustment on my part. I don’t know anything about being gay, but I’ll learn. I love you.”

  We were both crying by now, and I rolled onto my side and hugged her tightly, ignoring the pain that I still felt in my stomach. My adventure outside didn’t seem to have helped much.

  “I love you, too,” I told her through my tears. I think this was the first time we’d ever said those words to each other.

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  “You need to get out of those wet clothes,” she said, pulling away. I was reluctant to let go. “Asher?” she called out.

  He was there in a moment so he must have been waiting around the corner so as not to disturb us. He had taken off his jacket, and his long-sleeved shirt under-neath was still dry, so that meant that only his pants were still damp. He looked as if he’d dried off a bit already himself. His curly hair, even darker when wet, was standing out in tufts.

  Mom took the towels and handed them to me. “Can you help Killian upstairs to his room so he can change?”

  she asked Asher.

  “Of course, Mrs. Kendall,” he said. They both helped me up and Asher put his arm around me for me to lean on and we started out towards the stairs.

  “And Asher?” Mom called. We stopped at the bottom step, “Thank you.”

  “For what?” Asher called back.

  “For finding Killian and being such a good friend.”

  We stood there for a second before Asher nudged me into moving again. The climb up the stairs, which was slow and rather difficult, was taken one step at a time and mostly in silence. Finally we made it to my room and Asher helped me to my bed, then turned around. I thought he was leaving, but instead he shut the door and came back over to me.

  “What are you doing?” I asked him.

  “Your mom’s wrong, you know,” he said quietly,

  “I’ve not been a very good friend.”

  “You’re friends with Zack and Jesse,” I said, “They obviously come first. Like I said, I’m the back-up plan.

  Or I used to be. I’m nothing anymore. Why are you here?”

  He ignored my question and started rummaging through my drawers, pulling out dry clothes. I winced 62

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  when he opened my underwear drawer, but he just pulled out a pair of boxers and tossed them onto the bed.

  “His getting killed really upset you, huh?” he asked me, still digging through my dresser.

  “Geez, Asher, what do you think? I found him. And whoever killed him tried to kill me too. No, I’m not upset, I’m just flippin’ fine and dandy here.” Then to my great embarrassment I burst into tears.

  “Dammit,” he said rushing over to me, “Killian, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m so dumb sometimes. It’s just...I didn’t realize you were so close to him and all.”

  “We weren’t that close,” I sniffled. I was really getting tired of crying.

  Asher picked up one of the towels and gently wiped off my face and then started drying my hair. I felt like a little kid again. “What are you doing?” I asked him again.

  “I guess this is my way of saying I’m sorry for being such a jerk,” he said, then he continued, “I had a big fight with Zack and Jesse. Earlier this week. I haven’t talked to them since.”

  “You did? Why? What in the world happened?”

  “I wanted to come see you after...well, you know, but they didn’t think I should.”

  “Shouldn’t hang around with fags, huh?” I said bitterly.

  Asher froze. We sat there for a few seconds, neither of us speaking or moving. Then Asher got up and picked up the shirt and sweat pants that he’d dropped when I had started crying. He brought them over and set them on the bed. He stood there for a second, as if trying to decide what to do. Suddenly he reached down, took off my glasses, and began pulling up my shirt.

  “Hey!” I yelped.

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  “I’m just helping you with your shirt, dude,” he laughed.

  “I don’t need help, I can do it,” I insisted.

  “Oh, you can, huh? You can pull this wet shirt over your head without an extreme amount of pain?” he said in a teasing voice. “Just let me help. It’s okat. I’m not gonna rape you or anything.”

  He had a point. I gave him a dirty look then allowed him to help me untangle my arms from the wet material and pull it over my head. The maneuver still caused quite a bit of discomfort, and I knew he could tell. Once my shirt was off and all I was wearing were some wet bandages and soaked shorts, I suddenly became very self-conscious. I wasn’t unattractive or anything, but I also knew I wasn’t anywh
ere near as built as Asher was.

  “Help me get my shirt on,” I mumbled reaching for the dry one.

  “You need to change those bandages first, Kill,” Asher said.

  I sighed. He was right again, of course. “The stuff is in a basket by the couch downstairs,” I told him and he was gone in a flash. I decided to change my pants while he was gone, since it was much easier pulling on pants then pulling on a shirt, but I only got as far as my dry boxers before he was back. It didn’t seem like he could have had time to even get downstairs, and here he was back with the basket with me sitting in my boxers.

  “Your mom was bringing it up. I told her I would help you this time,” he explained.

  “You don’t have to,” I said quickly.

  “I know I don’t have to, I want to. Will you just stop fighting me and let me help you?” He was starting to sound exasperated, so once again I gave in.

  He gently unwound the wet wrappings and applied fresh salve to the wound, which was not healing quite as quickly as the doctors had hoped. They said my lungs 64

  Bleeding Hearts

  were doing great, however.

  “Arms up,” he said, and began to wrap the new bandages around me. He sat to one side of me, which meant he had to wrap his arms around me each time around.

  He seemed to be going much slower than was absolutely necessary. I tried not enjoy the closeness of his body too much. After all, he was still strictly off limits.

  “You shouldn’t be so nervous about your body, Kill,”

  he said softly into my ear making me jump.

  “Wh-wh-what?” I stuttered.

  “I could tell you felt weird about me seeing you without a shirt,” he said, “It’s no big deal. I’ve seen you before like when we go swimming and stuff.”

  “I’m not nervous,” I argued, then after a few seconds,

  “Its just that you’re so much more built than I am.”

  “So? Who cares? You’re fine. There, all finished.” He stepped back to admire his handiwork, then grabbed my shirt and helped me into it. After handing me back my glasses, he picked up the sweats. He stood there with them for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. He looked so awkward; it was all I could do not to start laughing.

  “I think I can manage those on my own,” I told him, trying not to smile, “But thanks for all the help, Ash.”

  “You’re welcome, Killian.” He paused for a second,

  “I have to go now, but I want you to know that I’m really sorry I haven’t been a better friend. I promise I’m gonna do better from now on.” Then he totally shocked me by leaning in and kissing me on the cheek.

  I was speechless, which Asher used to his advantage to quickly slip out of my room. He paused in the doorway on his way out and called over his shoulder, “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  I didn’t know what to think about Asher’s sudden about-face. It seemed like he was honestly making an effort to be a real friend, but I was a little skeptical. He 65

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  said he’d had a big fight with Zack and Jesse, over me no less, but what if he was really just spying on me? I wouldn’t put it past them. Kind of a “lets see what Killian-the-fag is up to.” But it felt like Asher was sincere to me. And what was up with that kiss? He wouldn’t have thrown that in just to be convincing, would he? I wouldn’t even allow myself to think that he might be gay.

  Thinking about being gay reminded me about Mom.

  Now she knew that I was gay, too, and she still loved me anyway. I felt so good knowing that. The earlier thoughts of killing myself seemed so far away. But what about Dad? He couldn’t find out.

  Suddenly I was tired. All this conjecture, combined with my very emotional roller-coaster ride of a day, had worn me out. I didn’t have enough energy to tackle the stairs again, so I crawled up on my bed. “I’ll just take a short nap,” I thought.

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  CHAPTER SIX

  I had a vague impression that someone looked in on me at some point, but the next time I awoke, the sun was streaming brightly through the windows in my room. I had slept all night and it seemed the storm had passed. I looked at the clock and gasped. It was almost 11 AM. I must have been more worn out than I had thought.

  I sat up and winced at the pain. I fought my way to my feet and almost fell back onto my bed. Asher was sitting on my floor, reading a book. He was wearing jeans and a white Billabong sweatshirt that made him look paler than usual. His curly dark brown hair shone in the sunlight that fell across him like a spotlight. He looked like an angel sitting there. He looked up at me and smiled.

  “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said.

  “How’d you get in here?” I asked him.

  “Your mom let me in. I’ve been sitting here for about an hour. By the way, she had to leave to do some chores.

  She asked me to keep an eye on you, so I did.” He grinned up at me. Gosh, he was cute when he grinned.

  “You need some help getting into the bathroom?”

  “I dunno,” I said, “I think I can handle it. I can walk, you know.”

  He still hadn’t stopped grinning. “Barely. How about 67

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  that?” he asked me, pointing to my crotch. “Think you can handle that?”

  I almost died. There, in all its glory, not hidden at all by my boxers, was my morning wood. I tried to pull my T-shirt down over it, but to my further embarrassment it was still fairly obvious. I glared at Asher and walked off to the bathroom, trying to spare some dignity while he rolled on the floor laughing.

  Thanks to my extreme mortification, it didn’t take long for Mr. Woody to go away. I decided while I was in the bathroom to go ahead and take my bath. Besides, it would make Asher wait that much longer. Maybe he’d go home before I got out. I stripped down and carefully took off the bandages while the water ran. I usually was a shower person, but showers were a little more than I could handle right then. I had to wash carefully around the wound and especially had to keep soap away from it or it stung like crazy, but it was looking much better this morning. I might be able to get the stitches out soon.

  When I came out of the bathroom in just a towel, I was surprised to see Asher reclining on my bed, still reading.

  “Make yourself at home,” I said dryly.

  “Thanks, I will,” he grinned. Man, that grin got to me. “By the way, nice towel.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him and went to get clothes out of my dresser.

  “You really shouldn’t be worried about your body, Kill,” Asher said coming up behind me, “You have a natural definition like your dad. You don’t even need to work out.”

  I blushed. “Um...thanks, Ash,” I mumbled.

  He examined my wound. “It looks a lot better this morning.” he said, running his fingers lightly around it, “Must be my magic touch. Sit down and I’ll put the bandages back on it for you.”

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  “Oh crap, I left the bandage in the bathroom,” I told him. His closeness was starting to get to me. I still didn’t know what to make of his sudden interest.

  While Asher was getting the bandage from the bathroom, I quickly pulled on my boxers and a pair of jeans.

  “Okay,” he said in a bad Dr. Ruth imitation as he came back in, “Have a seat, the doctor will see you now.”

  I chuckled as I perched on the edge of the bed. I had to admit, I liked having him around. I hadn’t felt this good since before...I felt my face fall with the thought of Seth. How could I be laughing and having fun when Seth had been murdered?

  “You’re thinking about Seth, aren’t you?” Asher asked me, suddenly serious.

  I nodded. Asher pulled the tube of salve out of the basket and squeezed some on to the stitches. “You know,” he said as he worked, “You have to move on eventually. You can’t help it that he was killed, but you don’t have to go around sad all the time either.”

  “I know. And I’m not sad all the time,” I argued, “but it just doesn’t seem right that he could be murdered like that in cold b
lood and no one is trying harder to catch the killer. I could have been killed too.”

  Asher looked up at me from where he had knelt on the floor. “I know,” he said almost under his breath.

  Then he went on, louder now, “It was just a mugger, Killian. They’ll catch him eventually.”

  “Maybe not just a mugger.”

  Asher looked at me intently, “What do you mean?”

  “What if it wasn’t just a mugger? What if he was murdered on purpose?”

  “Why would anyone kill Seth?”

  “Because he was gay.”

  “Then why would they stab you?”

  I paused for a second, then rushed on, hoping he wouldn’t catch the pause, “Maybe because I was just in 69

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  the wrong place at the wrong time. They stopped when they saw who I was, you know. They were gonna kill me too, but when they sat up and saw me more clearly, they said ‘Shit’, jumped up and ran. They recognized me.”

  Asher sat back onto the floor. “You’re kidding,” he whispered.

  I shook my head. “I wish I was,” I said.

  “That’s scary, Kill, but that doesn’t mean he was killed because he was gay. Maybe the mugger knew you.”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about this, Asher, and I don’t think it was just a mugger. I was there, remember? Call it intuition, call it a hunch I don’t know what it is exactly, I just know in my heart that it wasn’t a random mugging.”

  Asher sat in silence for a minute, then got back up on his knees and reached for the bandage. “If you’ve thought so much about it, who do you think it was?”

  “I don’t know,” I told him, “I hadn’t really thought about that part of it yet.”

  “Well, arms up then,” he said, and as soon as I’d complied he started wrapping me up again.

  While he wrapped I thought about his question. Who could it have been? I was surprised I hadn’t thought about this before. I felt kind of dumb actually. Isn’t that the obvious first question? But as I began to think about it I realized that maybe I just hadn’t wanted to think about it. The first person that popped into my mind was Zack. I thought about his threat earlier that same day.

 

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