Misdirected

by Ali Berman

  “And what did you think?”

  My tongue is stuck in my throat. Lies or truth? Lies or truth? Lies or truth?

  “Well, I um, I respect everyone’s beliefs. And, you know, I’m glad I live in a country that gives everyone the right to think what they want. But I don’t want to lie to you. That’s not the kind of person I am and I hope you respect me more for saying this. Christianity isn’t for me. I just, well, it’s not how I was raised. But Tess is the best friend I’ve got here and I hope that my beliefs don’t make you think I’m a bad person or anything.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Colston look at each other. Tess covers her face with her hands.

  “What about church didn’t you like?”

  “It’s not that I didn’t like it. The music was good and the people were nice. I just don’t believe in god or in heaven or hell. That’s not to say I don’t respect people who do. Tess is religious and I respect that. I would never question what she believes. The same way I would never want her to make fun of my beliefs.”

  “Son, you don’t believe in anything. How are we supposed to trust a boy like that with our daughter?”

  I stare at him for a few seconds with my mouth open. I don’t believe in anything? What an ass. I was nice and he just totally says that like it’s nothing? I want to yell back or say something obnoxious, but I don’t. It’s about Tess. Not about me. So I keep my cool. Or I try to.

  I say kind of angrily, “I could have lied to you tonight. I could have said that Tess was trying to save me and that I wanted to be saved. I think it says more about me as a person that I told the truth.”

  “Well Ben, I hate to break it to you but someone here lied. Either you lied when you told my Tess that you wanted to be saved. Or Tess lied to us when she told us you wanted to be saved. So which is it? Are you lying to Tess or is my daughter lying to me?”

  Oh crap. Oh no. He’s looking at me and I have no idea what to say. He’s right. I either just outed myself or Tess. Dammit! It should be me. I should say I lied.

  I open my mouth to speak and then hear, “It was me.”

  I close my mouth and look over at Tess. I try to shake my head, get her to stop, but she just starts talking.

  She says, “I found a friend. Someone I like and care about and he’s here and knows nobody. The Christian thing to do is to be friends with him. I don’t care that he’s an atheist. That’s his choice. And just because he believes something different than me doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. The truth is, he’s nicer than most of the people we go to school with. And more honest about who he is.”

  Tess’s dad looks furious. He puts his big hands on the table and glares at her. “So this boy who you think is so nice and considerate has you lying to your parents for him? Is that the Christian thing to do?”

  “It was my idea to lie. I’m not turning my back on God. I’m making a friend.”

  “Tess,” I say. “Stop. Just stop. Look, what if we promise to be honest with you from now on? I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not but I can tell you the truth.”

  “How can I expect to be told the truth from someone who can’t see the truth in front of his face.”

  “What truth?” I ask.

  “That Jesus died for you. And you can’t even say thank you.”

  “But sir . . .”

  “But nothing. It’s too important to disagree on. I’m sorry, Tess. I cannot let you spend time with this young man. The risk is too high.”

  “The risk of what?” I ask.

  “I think we’re done here. Ben, thank you for coming to dinner tonight and good luck at school.”

  “Dad, please. Don’t do this.”

  “You know how I feel.”

  “It’s like Michael all over again. How can you just cut people out when they think differently than you!?”

  “Don’t you dare bring him up. That name is dead in this house, and if you don’t want to follow in his footsteps, you’ll shut your mouth right now.” He makes eye contact with me and says, “Ben, good night.”

  I look around the table. Mrs. Colston is staring at her plate. Tess’s eyes are red and she’s about ten seconds away from crying. Mr. Colston’s face is firm.

  I want to shout at him that he’s an intolerant hypocrite who hates people who are different from him. What kind of Christian does that make him? Tess is ten times the person he’ll ever be. He’s her father, so I say nothing. I stand up, put my hand on Tess’s shoulder and say, “I’m sorry.” As my hand leaves her shoulder, she starts to shake and by the time I’m at the door I hear her crying. I walk out and go across the street. Home.

  I walk in the door to my house and head upstairs. I don’t even stop to answer when my dad asks, “How did it go?” I slam the door as hard as I possibly can. Then I take one of the pillows on my bed and begin hammering into it with my fist. I punch until I can’t punch anymore. I lie down on the floor and look up at the ceiling. Blank. No star stickers. This is not my house. This is not my room. This is not my life.

  Chapter 10

  Getting Out of Bed Is for Suckers

  My parents don’t bother me for the rest of the night. Which is a good idea on their part. I probably would have yelled at them for dragging me to this stupid freaking place. But they aren’t so cool that they let me stay in bed the next day.

  At 7:15 a.m. my mom knocks on my door, walks in with Holly, sees that I’m still in bed with my head under the covers and tells me to get my ass up. Well, she says it nicer than that.

  “Sweetie, I know you had a rough night last night. But you’ve got to get up. School starts in thirty minutes.”

  “I’m not going.”

  “That’s not up for debate.”

  “You’re going to drag me out of bed?”

  “If I have to.”

  “Go away.”

  I hear her sigh and then feel the bed dip down where she sits. Holly jumps up too and lies over the back of my legs.

  “Want to tell me what happened?”

  “No.”

  “If you want me to give you a mental health day, you’re going to need to sell me on the fact that you need one.”

  “Tess’s parents won’t let us be friends.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m an atheist and I wouldn’t lie about wanting to be saved. So now I have a total of zero friends.”

  “What about the boys you went to church with?”

  “They’re mean and hate gay people. And other kids at school aren’t exactly lining up to talk to me.”

  “They just have to get to know you. Give them a chance.”

  “It’s not about what kind of person I am. It’s about what I believe.”

  “Okay. It’s the beginning of the semester so I’m giving you one day to wallow. Tomorrow, you’re going back. I don’t want to hear a word about it.”

  “One day. Yeah. I’m sure my life will get better after one day. I hate it here.”

  “We all have to make adjustments. A new place is hard for everyone.”

  “You aren’t being forced to go to a school where everyone hates you. I want to go home.”

  “This is home now. And I know it seems bad. It will get better.”

  I should thank her for letting me stay home. I should say that I hope she’s right. Instead, I turn my head into my pillow and ignore her. Because at this moment, it’s her fault I’m here. It’s her fault that I left my friends back home. I just wish she’d go away.

  She puts her hand on my back so softly it’s almost as if it isn’t there at all. Instead of making me feel better, I just hate her more.

  “Just get out already. You can’t fix this.”

  “Okay,” she says, sounding hurt. And while a part of me feels guilty for making her feel bad, at least I’m not the only one. She gets up and closes the door behind her.


  I go back to bed, this time with Holly curled up at my feet. My mom can stuff it, but Holly makes me feel better just by being in the room. She always does.

  I wake up about once an hour, remember that there‘s no reason I should be awake and go back to sleep. At around noon I stumble downstairs and eat some cereal. On the fridge is a picture Pete sent us. He’s in uniform giving some scraps to a skinny stray dog. I take the picture down and look at the back. It says, My new friend One Eye comes by twice a day for breakfast and dinner.

  I go back up to my room and sit at my computer. I’m long overdue for an email to Pete. When I open up my mail, there is already an email from him. Bastard wrote to me first. Dammit! I’m such a crappy brother.

  Kid,

  It’s 4 a.m. here. I have to be up in half an hour but I can’t sleep. Mom tells me you’re having a hard time in the new school. I wish I were there to set those loser kids straight. Instead, I’m here doing whatever it is we’re doing. Keeping everyone safe, I guess. I can’t tell you how much I miss Mass. I miss trees. You’d never even believe some of the places where I’ve found sand.

  A bomber attacked a bus here yesterday. Twenty civilians dead. Five children. The longer I’m here, the less I understand people. I almost miss the simplicity of high school. You may get stuffed in a locker or sucker punched, but kids don’t wind up dead. Not usually.

  Anyway, just know that as hard as things are there, you’re lucky. Lucky to be safe at home. I can’t wait to get back there. To see you and Mom, Dad and Em. Hug Holly for me. There are so many strays here. They scrape by for food but lots of them look near dead. I saw one getting beaten and had to threaten the guy to let her go. She had stolen some bread from his stand. The Jean Valjean of freaking dogs. Poor goddamn thing. She looked starved. Same colors as Holly. I paid the guy for the bread and then bought her some dog food. Now she visits me every day. I sent Mom and Dad a picture. I wish they let us have dogs in the bunks. I’m thinking of opening a rescue shelter when I get back. For all the dogs like her back home. I’m sick of people, but I like these dogs more each day. Anyway, like I said, hug Holly for me.

  And don’t let the stupid stuff get you down. It’s high school. Do your own thing and learn enough to get the hell out of there. I know it doesn’t seem like it but that’s what it’s about.

  Pete

  No matter how big my problems seem, hearing from Pete always makes me feel like I’m a total self-centered turd bag. I don’t want him to spend his time worrying about me so I write him something that downplays what I’ve been feeling. I write about Tess. But then I delete it. It’s not like being in the army gives him a great dating life. And I don’t want him to feel bad that he’s in the desert without any of the things he used to like at home.

  I keep it general and write:

  Pete,

  Mom is such a big mouth. You’ve got bigger things to worry about at 4 a.m. than me. You and I have one thing in common right now though. We both miss Mass. The crap I’m getting is different than what you probably dealt with. Everyone here is REALLY religious. And they think I’m a bad person because I’m not. But you’re right. It’s just high school. And even though I have to be here the next few years, I’m going to get through it whether people like me or not. I might as well go through swinging. So thanks, bro. Your emails always put my tiny world into perspective. I mean, you’re in a goddamn war! That’s serious. I’m just wussing out over not having friends.

  Anyway, I scanned you a copy of the last Ultimate Spider-Man. Just remember, you may be an awesome hero, but you weren’t bitten by a radioactive spider, so be careful.

  Ben

  PS: I hugged Holly and gave her a treat for you.

  I send the email and then go hug Holly, who is still on my bed, and give her a treat. Then, I consider my options for the day. I could go outside and ride my bike. I could practice some new card manipulations. Or I could get ahead on my homework.

  Normally, that last option would have been a joke, but Pete’s right. If I want to get out of here, I have to make it happen. If I’m not going to have friends, the least I can do is make sure I get into a great college so I can be friends with anyone I want. I’ve always done my homework, but only enough to get decent grades. B’s. Now, I want A’s. I want to be smarter than every goddamn kid in that school.

  I take out my homework assignments. First up is Beowulf. I pull the graphic novel off my shelf and start rereading it. I’ve got a paper due in two weeks. It’s going to be the best damn paper I’ve ever written.

  At dinner Mom asks, “So how are you feeling?”

  “Better. But you don’t have to email Pete every time I feel like crap.”

  “It’s not every time. It was just this time.”

  “I don’t want him worrying about me.”

  Dad says, “Your brother asked about you and your Mom told him a bit about what’s been going on. He’s far away. Knowing what’s happening here, whether it’s good or bad makes him feel like he’s an active part of the family. He likes helping you.”

  “Well, he definitely helped.”

  “You’re all ready to go to school tomorrow then? No more mental health days?” Mom asks, still looking a bit like I kicked her in the gut.

  “I’m good to go.”

  After dinner I mess with some of the McBride moves from the DVDs that Margaret gave me. I think of texting them, but they haven’t said a word to me and I don’t think I could handle any more disappointment from friends right now. At about ten o’clock I head upstairs to my room.

  I sit at my desk and turn on my computer to check my email. When I look up, Tess is at her window waving her phone around. I look at my phone and see that it’s still on silent from dinner last night and that I have like ten messages from her. I look up at her standing at the window and then text her.

  “Hey.”

  “You weren’t at school. I was kind of freaking out. You okay?”

  “I just needed a day. You know?”

  “I’m sorry about my parents. L”

  “I’m sorry I got you in trouble.”

  There is a long pause. I glance up but I don’t see her at the window.

  “I missed you today.”

  Wow. She missed me. That must mean she likes me, right? Or does she miss me as a friend? Damn. Okay, my heart is beating fast and I need to respond.

  “I missed you too . . .”

  “Can you meet me outside later tonight?”

  “But your parents . . . I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

  “My parents are stupid and wrong. I only listen to them when they say stuff that makes sense, you know?”

  “Eleven-thirty?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  At 11:25 I quietly put my shoes on. My parents sleep with the door closed, which makes sneaking out much easier. It’s got to be way harder for Tess. She has to avoid waking up three siblings and two parents.

  I open and close the door as softly as possible and head outside near that tree on her lawn. A few minutes later, Tess comes out. She waves for me to follow her. Without a word we walk along the side of her house and into her backyard. She takes my hand and leads me behind a small shed.

  We stop walking and just stand holding hands. She looks embarrassed and lets go. We sit down on the ground facing each other.

  “I’m sorry again about last night,” I say.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to tell the truth? It’s just a bad idea.”

  “I didn’t want to lie about who I am.”

  “You shouldn’t have to.”

  “Neither should you,” I say. “I just didn’t think it all the way through. I didn’t think he would figure out you lied just because I was telling the truth.” She shrugs. “Can we talk at school at all?” I ask.

  “Not with Angela around. And a
nyway, everyone goes to the same church. It would be hard to hide at school.”

  “But I want to see you.”

  “I’m right here.”

  “So we can only hang out in the middle of the night?”

  “No. We’ll just have to get creative. I can join the talent show. That will get us in the same room once a week.”

  “What happened last night after I left?”

  Tess looks at the ground.

  “Was it bad?” I ask.

  “I’m grounded.”

  “Damn. I’m sorry,” I say.

  I put my hand on her knee and feel my pulse quicken. That’s what people do when they care, right? Or will she just think I’m hitting on her? I guess I am hitting on her.

  She puts her hand over my hand and says, “Isn’t it awful that lying would have made our lives easier? That I can’t even be honest with my parents?”

  I know we’re talking about something serious, but her hand on my hand has made it hard for me to listen. It’s like my entire body is freaking out. I say as calmly as I can, “That’s messed up.”

  “You don’t ever lie to your parents?”

  My brain (and other parts) is still buzzing but I focus. I now have no idea what to do with my hand. Do I leave it there? Do I turn it and hold hers? I’m such a freaking idiot. I have no idea what to do. Tess is looking at me and waiting for an answer to her question, and now I’ve forgotten what she said.

  “What?”

  She laughs and squeezes my hand. “I said, do you ever lie to your parents?”

  “I guess sometimes about stupid stuff. Like, if I finished my homework. I’m definitely not supposed to be outside with you right now. Nothing like lying about my beliefs. They just want me to think for myself.”

  “If I tell the truth, they might hate me. Like my brother.”

  “They don’t hate your brother,” I say, feeling my pulse calm down.

  “How do you know?”

  “Your mom looked sad when you brought him up last night.”

  “Yeah, well, it was my dad’s decision to cut him out. Not my mom’s.”