I'll Be the One

by Hazel James

  “Fine, have it your way.” She flips the video around and her face is replaced by her cat, who is currently sprawled on the floor giving his man parts a bath.

  “That’s disgusting. And I must say, I’m a bit disappointed. I was sort of hoping for a case of tat-for-tit if you know what I mean.” I hope she knows by my laugh that I’m just joking.

  “Very clever, but dream on. You can watch kitty porn until you put your shirt back on.”

  “You mean you want me to cover my hot firefighter abs?” I ask in fake shock.

  “They distract me, so yes.” She can’t hide the sound of her smile. I acquiesce, but only because I’m not in a kinky Animal Planet kind of mood.

  “Alright, you win. What are you doing tomorrow?”

  “Nothing, it’s a rest day. Coach has us scheduled for runs the first four days of next week, then a rest day before our invitational on Saturday.”

  “Does this mean I can see you tomorrow?” I don’t even try to hide the hopefulness in my voice.

  “I don’t know…”

  “You still haven’t talked to your dad?”

  “No. I’m sorry,” she says quietly, and looks down. It’s not her fault that her dad’s an unrelenting ass. I just need to figure out a way to remove the threat so he doesn’t object to me hanging out with her. I’ve never wished I was a girl before, but I admit having girl parts would help me out in this situation. Not that surgery is in my future anytime soon. But maybe…

  “Why are you smiling like that?” She looks suspicious.

  “Ray, I’m coming to your house tomorrow,” I say confidently.

  “I’d rather not get grounded tomorrow.”

  “You won’t get grounded, I promise. You’ll see. Just text me your address.”

  “James, I have no idea what you’re up to, but it can’t be good.”

  “You’re right, it’s not good. It’s brilliant. Prepare to be amazed, my dear.” She only stares at me. “I miss you, Ray. Only getting to see you for one class and one lunch every day sucks.”

  She sighs. “I know, I miss you too.”

  “Okay, then. Tomorrow. I’ll see you then. I’ll be the desperate one knocking on your front door.”

  “If you get me in trouble, I’m kicking your ass.”

  “As much as I’d love your hands anywhere near my ass, you won’t get in trouble.” I smile reassuringly, and I can see the moment she gives in.

  “Good night, Mrs. Tennyson.”

  “Good night, Mr. Tennyson.”

  I ring Rachel’s doorbell and hear her dad’s muffled voice telling her to answer it. I take a deep breath and order my hormones to behave themselves. Staying in character is the only way this will work. She opens the door and clamps her hand over her mouth, taking in my slightly too-tight jeans. I rolled them at the ankles and I’m wearing Converse with no socks. I went to Goodwill this morning and scored a magenta shirt in a women’s large. I normally wear a men’s large. The result is an extremely tight shirt with a hem that floats just above the top of my jeans. I snuck one of my mom’s wigs out of her closet, too. She calls this one her “girlfriend.” It’s platinum blonde and hangs in loose waves past my shoulders. Pink aviator style sunglasses complete my look.

  “Hey, girl! Thanks so much for offering to help me with this stupid report.” I make an effort to emphasize all of my s’s and wave my hands around animatedly. I step into the foyer, where her dad’s eyes fall on me. “I mean, what is up with Mr. Jackson’s awful assignment? Does anyone really care about the courtship rituals of Neanderthals?” I roll my eyes and fake a shudder.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty dumb,” she manages to say without laughing. Her dad walks over and before Rachel can blow it, I take charge.

  “Oh my gosh, you must be Rachel’s dad. She’s told me so much about you.” He glances back and forth between us, trying to figure out what the hell is happening in his entryway. “I’m Jamie, the new girl? Well, sorry,” I say with a flourish of my hand. “I know I’m not exactly a girl, but I may as well be.” I wink at her dad and he takes a few steps back.

  “Yeah, Dad,” Rachel says, catching on. “Remember I was talking to Jamie a few weeks ago after she moved here? I offered to help her out if she got stuck on any assignments. Unfortunately, Mr. Jackson is a stickler. I told Jamie she could come over today and I’d tutor her since this paper is worth twenty-five percent of her grade.” She emphasizes the last part.

  Her dad still has no idea what to do. He clears his throat and glances at his watch. “Sure, sure. That sounds fine. I just forgot. I’m supposed to meet your mother at the thing she’s at right now.”

  “The Bingo game?” Rachel asks.

  “Yes, the Bingo game. Exactly! So I’m going to do that. I’ll be back later. Have fun with your report, uh, Jamie.” Her dad extends his hand, then drops it, then extends it again. I shake it with the lightest grip I can offer. “Okay, then. I’ll see you later tonight, Rachel. Bye Jamie.”

  He practically runs out the door. I don’t think he cares that he left his coffee cup on the table or that his jacket is still hanging on the coat rack. We wait until he rounds the curve of the driveway before falling apart in a fit of laughter.

  “Oh, my God, I can’t believe you,” she finally manages to say. “What the hell are you wearing?”

  “I am wearing the victory outfit of a genius.” I remove the wig and sunglasses, then pull her into my arms and kiss her. She smells so damn good. Her hands take advantage of my short shirt and slip up my back. I gently bite her lower lip when she rakes her nails across my muscles. If she keeps that up, I’m gonna devour her face.

  “Alright, genius. One rule for this afternoon.”

  “Name it, as long as I’m still allowed to do this.” I bury my face in her neck and suck on the skin just below her ear. She mumbles something that sounds like “Christ Almighty” and fists her hands in my hair. Which feels amazing, by the way. Everything she does feels amazing.

  “My rule. No sex.” She pulls her face away and looks me in the eye to make sure I heard her. I place my hands on either side of her face and kiss the tip of her nose.

  “Rachel, I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to do or weren’t ready for. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think I’m ready for that, either.” She smiles, and I see the relief in her face. “That doesn’t mean I don’t think about it, but you can’t fault me for that. I am a guy, after all.”

  “I may have thought about it a time… or five, too.” Her cheeks flush at her admission, but I’m glad to know I’m not alone.

  “You’re worth the wait, Ray. Trust me. I’m not going anywhere.” I pull her into my arms again, but this time we just hug. We sway silently for several minutes, enjoying the feel of our bodies together. Then she starts laughing.

  “What?” I ask, putting an arm’s length between us.

  “The courtship rituals of Neanderthals? What was that all about?”

  “I kept expecting your dad to club me and drag you back into your cave, so I thought it was fitting.”

  She high fives me. “Well played, James. Well played.”

  Like usual, I walk toward Economics on Monday morning excited to see Rachel. Even though I got to spend yesterday afternoon with her, it’s never enough. Eternity wouldn’t be enough time with her. We’re caught up on our project so that means we get to hang out for forty-five minutes. I’ll take what I can get at this point. At least I’m not wearing a pink shirt and tight pants. The downside is we have to keep all PDA to a bare minimum at school. The last thing we need is her dad getting wind of our relationship (or whatever it is we have). It’s mostly okay. I’m just glad I can be near her.

  When I step into the classroom, something feels off. Nothing looks out of place, but something’s not right. The feeling doesn’t go away when Mrs. Mason starts talking about what’s coming up this week. It’s still there when we break up into groups for our project. Rachel can tell I’m a bit distracted but she doesn’t
push it.

  By the end of the day, I’m getting irritated. The nagging feeling has intensified but hasn’t gotten any clearer. Rachel’s doing her track thing, and I’m not scheduled to work until Wednesday, so I head home. Everyone’s gone, so I grab a piece of pie and go to my room. I turn on my favorite Sunset Sons song and taste Gran’s first blackberry pie of the year. Both are good, but I’m not enjoying them as much as I normally do.

  I set my plate down, rub my face, and grab my phone. My finger touches the keypad and my heart starts beating faster. Everything clicks into place. I close my eyes and my fingers dial the ten digits I see flashing in my head. I don’t breathe again until she answers.

  “Yeah?” I hear water running.

  “Gretchen?”

  “S’rry, she won’t be here ’nymore,” she slurs.

  “Gretchen, where are you?” I shout into the phone. Ten seconds pass. Twenty.

  “Not here.” Her voice sounds farther away.

  “Gretchen!”

  I jump off my bed and run for the house phone in the kitchen. Thank Christ my grandparents still have one. I put my cell phone on speaker and dial 9-1-1 on the house phone.

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

  “Someone needs help!”

  “What’s the address?”

  Fuck.

  “Gretchen, what’s your address?” I hear the phone clatter to the floor. Then, a splash of water. Then the call drops.

  “I don’t know her address, but I have her phone number. Can you use that?” I read off the number on my phone log and fight off the bile rising in the back of my throat.

  “What’s the nature of the emergency?”

  “I don’t know exactly. She sounds like she’s on something and I hear water. That’s all I know.”

  “Standby, sir.”

  I watch the kitchen clock. Two minutes and thirty four seconds pass, but it may as well be two hours. My fingernails are nearly gone by the time the operator comes back on the line.

  “We have located the address and have sent emergency response personnel to the house. Would you like to leave your phone number if the first responders have any additional questions?” I have no idea how this lady can be so calm. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.

  “Yeah, sure.” I tell the operator my number. With nothing else to offer, I end the call.

  After an hour of pacing the kitchen, I grab my keys and jacket and head to the hospital. The emergency room is buzzing. I run to the triage desk.

  “Can I help you, sir?” I glance around the waiting room, not sure exactly what I’m looking for.

  “Was someone brought in here on a stretcher?”

  “Yes, we’ve had eleven today.”

  “Within the last hour. A girl named Gretchen?”

  “Are you family?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry, privacy laws prevent me from sharing any information with you.” I know she’s not trying to be a bitch, but that doesn’t help my cause. I move to a chair in the waiting room. I glance around at the faces and wonder if any of them are here for Gretchen.

  Probably too old.

  Definitely too old.

  Probably too young.

  None of these people look like her. I lean forward and bring my hands to my forehead, trying to assess what the fuck happened today. I’ve never predicted anything like this. Never even come close. Whatever it is that I have, has been more of entertainment value than anything, sort of like those fake commercial psychics. I can’t even begin to understand what changed today.

  “James?” I hear my name so quietly that I wonder if I imagined it. I lift my head and scan the room. My eyes fall on Lainey. She runs to me, throws her arms around my neck and sobs.

  “What the fuck is going on, James?”

  “I have no idea. When Gretchen answered the phone, she was practically unresponsive. I heard water and I called 9-1-1.”

  She lets go and we sit in a side-by-side vigil on the world’s most uncomfortable chairs.

  “I couldn’t reach her all day. She sounded weird when we talked yesterday, but she said she’d see me tomorrow and hung up. That was the last time I talked to her. I got worried so I drove to her house and the neighbors said she was taken away in an ambulance.”

  “She wasn’t in school today,” I say, picturing the faces in Economics, more of my nagging feeling clicking into place.

  “She was supposed to tell her parents last night.” It comes out in a whisper, and if I wasn’t focused on the sound of her voice, I would have missed it.

  “I gather it didn’t go well.”

  Lainey balls her hands into fists. “They’re such mother fuckers. I don’t get them at all. Would it be too much to ask for them to be accepting of their daughter? Fucking bastards.” She lets out a deep sigh. “James, I swear to God if Gretchen lives I’m going to kick her ass into next Tuesday for pulling this shit.”

  “If she lives, she’s going to need a huge support network, and it’s obvious she’s not getting it at home. What can we do?”

  “I’ll make her stay with me for a while. She’s already eighteen, so her parents can suck it as far as I’m concerned.”

  “How long have you been in love with her?”

  “We’ve been best friends for about five years. So… about five years.” She laughs once before a new round of tears start. I pass her tissues from the box on the end table next to me. “She said she was bi-curious at first, but I knew she was kidding herself. That fuckhead boyfriend of hers was her attempt at being normal for her Bible-thumping parents. They made it quite clear that the college fund they set up for her would only be available if she met their standards. I thought if she was just honest with them, they’d eventually come around. I was the one who pressured her to tell them. This is all my fault.” She picks apart the tissue in her hands while tears roll down her cheeks.

  “No, this is absolutely not your fault. This situation is entirely of their creation. I hope this is a wake-up call for them.”

  Lainey and I sit in the waiting room for three more hours. I texted Mom earlier and told her I’d be home late, but I didn’t tell her why. I’m not sure how to explain it. At 8:05, a man and woman emerge from the back area of the emergency room. Lainey stiffens in her seat beside me. I stand and walk toward them.

  “Are you Gretchen’s parents?”

  Her mom nods. Their eyes are both red and swollen and it looks like they’re bearing the weight of the world on their shoulders. Good. Maybe they can empathize with their daughter for once.

  “I’m James, a friend of hers from school. Is she going to be okay?”

  “The doctors are… what did they say, Craig?” She looks to her husband.

  “They said they’re cautiously optimistic,” he responds, his voice sounding hollow. “They pumped her stomach.”

  “What did she take?”

  “A bottle of sleeping pills. The paramedics found her in the bathtub. She was unconscious, but her chin never submerged,” she says. “She’s resting now, and the doctors said she’ll be okay. There’s nothing more we can do for her tonight, so they advised us to go home and get some rest. We’ll be back in the morning before she goes for her psych eval.”

  “What room is she in? I’d like to come visit tomorrow after school.”

  “221.”

  “Come on dear, let’s get you home,” Craig says. They start walking but Gretchen’s mom stops and turns around.

  “The paramedics said they acted on a tip from Gretchen’s friend. Was that you or Lainey?” I raise my hand.

  “Thank you for saving my daughter’s life.” She turns and they leave the emergency room, taking their wake of guilt with them.

  I walk toward Lainey. “Did you hear all of that?” She nods yes. “I guess I’m gonna head home too. You gonna be okay?”

  “I think so.”

  I take her phone and program my number. “Call or text if you need me.” I start walking t
o the exit when she calls my name again. “Yeah?”

  “I forgot to ask earlier. How did you know?”

  “Know what?” I ask to stall for time.

  “How did you know Gretchen needed help?”

  I lift my palms in the air and shrug my shoulders. I’d love to know the answer to that myself. I turn and leave before she questions me further.

  “Thanks again for the mocha frap, Avery. I seriously owe you. I’ll be so glad when this invitational is over.” I try fighting off another yawn, but it’s useless. We grab our backpacks and do the zombie shuffle across the parking lot, my quads protesting the entire way. Thank God for Epsom salt baths. I’d hate to see what they’d be saying if I hadn’t soaked for an hour last night.

  “No problemo, Beef. I refuse to start my day without coffee. Cheers,” she says, clinking her to-go cup with mine.

  We navigate the hallway, making every attempt to protect our cups of liquid gold from the never-ending stream of people who seem to be much more awake than we are. A group of jocks walk by, their voices carrying over the din.

  “I heard it was Katie Stewart. She tried to slit her wrists but did it in the wrong direction.”

  “No, it was Anastasia Powell. You know, the girl who sharted in gym class last week? She tried to hang herself.”

  “That’s not what I heard.” Their voices trail off when they round the corner.

  “What the hell was that about?” Avery asks.

  “I have no idea. I had practice yesterday then took a bath and passed out when I got home. I didn’t even talk to James last night.” Which sort of sucked. I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed our evening conversations until I skipped one. Come to think of it, he didn’t text me last night either.

  “I was working last night but I didn’t hear about anyone trying to off themselves.”

  “Wasn’t Fletcher working yesterday? I have a feeling the Rapture could have happened and you wouldn’t have noticed.” She narrows her eyes and opens her mouth to make a snarky comment, then stops and smiles.