Misdirected

by Ali Berman

  “Sorry man.”

  “She broke up with me, didn’t she?”

  “Read the letter.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “Yeah. She broke up with you.”

  I sit down on my bed and put my hands on my head. “I deserve it.”

  “Yeah. You going to read the letter?”

  “Not now.”

  “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

  James always knows when to push and when to lay off.

  “Yeah, sure,” I say glumly.

  “Okay. You pick.”

  Suddenly the doorbell rings. My heart jumps and I think for a second that it could be Tess. Maybe she wants to talk. To give me a chance to explain.

  I run down the stairs, taking them three or four at a time and almost knock my mom down on the way to the door. “I’ve got it,” I say.

  I open the door ready to say how sorry I am, but it’s not her. It’s Trent.

  “Hey. Can you come outside for a minute?” he says.

  “Uh. Sure. Yeah.”

  I grab my coat, put on my shoes, and meet Trent on the front steps.

  “I wanted to tell you in person outside of school that I’m sorry, but you’re out of the talent show.”

  “What?” I say, immediately feeling my blood get hot and my face go red. “I’ve worked my ass off for that show. These kids are going to love my act.”

  “We want parents to come and give us money, and what you did, that messes with the entire show. Everyone in town knows about what happened. I can’t let it ruin our chance to raise some money for these kids. That’s what this show is all about.”

  “Look, I know I messed up and I feel horrible for saying what I said. Tess won’t even talk to me. I can’t fix it if I’m blacklisted. I mean, I already got suspended. That should be enough.”

  Trent looks genuinely upset as he listens to me. Not like he hates me, but like he hates that he’s kicking me out.

  “I’m sorry, man. It’s not going to happen. It’s not my decision.”

  “It’s your show.”

  “I wish. Frank said you’re out.”

  “Yeah. Okay. Thanks for telling me. And for coming over to do it in person.”

  “Sure thing.” He looks like he’s about to say something else but shakes his head and just says, “Later.”

  I sit down on the front step and try not to scream. Screaming is what got me into this freaking mess. So instead I think. I plan. I plot. There has to be a way to fix this.

  Chapter 30

  Back to the Sober Life

  It turns out that the kids were right about me going to hell. When I come back from suspension, school is pretty much what I imagine hell to be. I just didn’t have to die to get here.

  Not only am I out of the talent show, the only thing I had to keep me going, but now the entire school is against me. Not like before when they just didn’t care about me. Now I get dirty looks and insults as I walk down the hall. “Loser.” “No one wants you here.” “All fags go to hell.” Stuff like that. Not that I even care about any of them. The only person I really care about is Tess.

  Tess has blocked me online, won’t answer my texts, and keeps her curtains closed. She’d rather be vitamin D deficient than risk looking at my face.

  The only good thing is that I’ll be out of here in a month. I’ll be switching to a public school. I’m pretty sure most of those students will still be religious. At least it won’t mess up my grades. And I’ll still have James to hang out with after school.

  Also, I had a ton of time to study the McBride DVD and practice my moves. Frank booted me out of the talent show, but I’ll be damned if that’s going to stop me. This school has done nothing but kick me. Before I leave I want to do that talent show and prove to everyone that I’m not a heartless sinner. I just have to find a way. There’s still one illusion that I just can’t get. My hands aren’t moving fast enough and James can see what I’m doing every time. I need Margaret’s help to figure that one out. This show is going to be my finale. My good-bye to this place.

  Soon I’ll have no more religion being shoved in my face at school. No more prayers or Bible stuff. In fact, it’s against the law to pray in school. I never understood that law before. Now I think it’s a way of preventing kids from feeling left out. If you’re the only Jewish second-grader in school and everyone is praying to Jesus all the time it could get pretty lonely.

  For now I am that lonely. James continues to be awesome. He’s also kind of mad that I’m leaving. Tess hasn’t stopped talking to him, but to everyone else he’s seen as a crazy person for hanging out with me. Plus, his mom gets out of rehab today, just in time for Thanksgiving this weekend. He hasn’t said much about it, but I can tell he’s nervous.

  I’m heading East tomorrow to visit my sister at Sarah Lawrence and then we’re going up to Boston to do Thanksgiving at my aunt and uncle’s house. Which means that James is going to have to deal with his mom by himself.

  After school, which can’t end fast enough with Tess avoiding eye contact with me every time we pass each other in the hall, my mom picks us up and we go to the hospital to pick up James’s mom. She’s sitting in the lobby looking at her feet. She doesn’t even notice us as we walk up to her. James puts his hand on her shoulder and says, “Hey, Mom.”

  She looks up and smiles at him. Her eyes are watery and she makes no move to stand up.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asks.

  She looks over at my mom and me briefly. My mom takes the hint and pulls me a few steps away to give them some privacy.

  She looks terrified. James gives her a hug, takes her bag, and holds her hand to walk her out to the car. I sit in the front seat with my mom and James takes the back with his mom, who looks out the window like she hasn’t really seen this town in years. Like it’s all new to her.

  “Your son was a perfect guest,” Mom says to Mrs. Bullard.

  “Thank you so much for having him,” says Mrs. Bullard, softly. “Really, your kindness won’t be forgotten. Heaven holds a place for people like you.”

  My mom smiles and says, “He’s been a wonderful friend to Ben.”

  The rest of the drive is silent and kind of awkward. We finally get to James’s house and pull up in front.

  James looks at me like he might just barf on his front lawn. I give him an encouraging smile.

  “James,” says my mom. “I picked up some groceries for you both since you haven’t been home in a while. They’re in the trunk. Can you be a dear and grab them?”

  Mrs. Bullard can’t quite manage to make eye contact with my mom but she does reach up to the front seat to squeeze her shoulder.

  “You’re too kind,” she says.

  “Nonsense. Happy to help.”

  Mrs. Bullard gets out of the car and slowly walks up to the house. James closes the trunk and gives me a nod as he jogs up to his mom to walk with her. He puts the groceries down, opens the door, and Mrs. Bullard steps in.

  “You think she’ll be okay?”

  “I hope so, for both their sakes. You just keep a close eye on him, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Chapter 31

  College Kids Are Smarter Than Me

  The next morning I get on a plane to New York. In fact, I get to go on a plane by myself to visit Emily. My parents are meeting us in a few days once we get to Boston. Should be interesting since Emily still hasn’t bothered mentioning to our parents that she’s got a girlfriend. It has to come up sooner or later.

  Emily doesn’t meet me at the airport. She does meet me at the train station in Bronxville, once I’ve taken a bus, a subway, and then a train. Not overwhelming at all for my first time in New York City.

  She’s standing on the platform with another girl. A really, really good-looking girl. Long brown hair,
a short skirt with thick striped stockings, and a tight sweater. I pull my shoulders back and hold onto my bag, as if it isn’t so heavy that it’s been killing my arm since the airport. Which it has.

  Emily hasn’t seen me yet and just as I get within ten feet of them, she leans in and plants a fat kiss on the hot girl’s lips. Freaking great.

  I drop my bag on the ground and sit on the bench behind me. Em finishes kissing the hot girl and looks around. Perhaps she’s finally noticed that most of the people have stepped off the platform and she hasn’t seen her little brother yet. Not that she was trying hard to find me.

  She turns. “You don’t have a hug for your sister?”

  “You were busy.”

  “Oh, whatever. Come here!”

  She pulls me in for a big hug but right now I just feel awkward. She was just kissing a hotter girl than I have ever even talked to. It’s probably against some law to get tingly at the thought of your sister’s girlfriend. And then to have your sister hug you while you’re tingly? That’s just gross.

  Em lets me go and pushes me toward the girl.

  “This is Jamie. Jamie, this is my brother Ben.”

  “Nice to meet you. Sorry for accosting your sis right when you arrived.”

  “From my view, it looked like it was her fault.”

  “It usually is.” They smile at each other.

  Gross.

  Jamie sees my reaction, and says, “Sorry. No little brother wants to see his sister with anyone.”

  “Ha. Yeah,” I say, awkwardly. “I’m glad she met someone though.”

  “I kind of want to send a thank you letter to the housing people for putting us together,” she jokes, smiling at Emily again.

  It’s already nine o’clock so by the time we get back to campus and eat some food at the pub, it’s almost time to go to sleep. It’s my first night on a college campus and I’m too tired to do anything. How lame.

  My sister lays out the blow-up mattress while Jamie changes in the bathroom. I stand in a corner of the room wondering how I’m going to sleep at all with my sister and her girlfriend snuggling three feet away from me. Her ridiculously hot girlfriend who has just come out of the bathroom in a tank top and tiny shorts. I look away toward the wall but it’s covered with a bunch of pictures of hot girls out of Vogue or something.

  Plus, the name of the dorm she lives in is Titsworth. For real. Titsworth.

  “Do I really have to sleep here?” I ask.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “It’s just. This is your room and you share it with your girlfriend.”

  “So?”

  “I’d just rather not sleep while you two make out.”

  “You think we want to make out with my little brother in the room? We’re going to go to sleep. That’s all.”

  “Please.”

  “It’s this or Ed’s room. Just so you know, he’s gay too.”

  “Does Ed have a boyfriend?”

  “Not right now.”

  “Then yeah, I’d like to sleep in Ed’s room.”

  She rolls her eyes and picks up the phone. Five minutes later I’m down the hall pumping air into my mattress in Ed’s room. He’s reading. At least he doesn’t have any half-naked pictures of men on his walls. He’s got more class than my sister.

  Ed looks up. “I have a PlayStation if you’re interested. Unless you’re tired.”

  I am tired but I’m also feeling too excited about being out of Forest Ridge to want to go to sleep right away.

  “Thanks. You want to play?”

  “Let me just finish this chapter.”

  I set up the controller and pick a game. Ed is no newbie. He must have two dozen games lined up under his bed. I put one in and fiddle with the controllers to get used to it. My dad would rather I study than play games and no matter how many, But Dad, it helps with hand-eye coordination arguments I make, he still says no. Which means, I’ll probably suck.

  Ed puts his book down on the desk and turns to me.

  “So why are you sleeping here tonight instead of in your sister’s room?”

  Ed apparently likes to get straight to the point.

  “It was just kind of weird.”

  He nods like he knows what I mean.

  “Jamie is hot,” he says.

  I shrug, not wanting to agree so blatantly.

  “Emily said that your parents moved to Forest Ridge. How’s that going for you?”

  “It could be better.”

  Ed opens up his mini-fridge to take out a soda. There’s a six-pack of beer inside too.

  “Can I have one?” I ask.

  “Sure,” he says, handing me a soda.

  “I meant a beer.”

  “You twenty-one?”

  “No. I’m visiting college. Isn’t this what I’m supposed to be doing?”

  “If you think college is about drinking beer, then all you’re going to get out of it is being drunk.”

  “You drink.”

  “I’m twenty-one. All you high schoolers think that drinking is about getting drunk. When you get older, drunk is kind of dumb.”

  “I saw a whole group of drunk Sarah Lawrence kids earlier tonight.”

  “They’re dumb.”

  I think of James’s mom and of James getting drunk while we were cleaning and feel kind of guilty for even asking.

  Ed starts playing the game, a first-person shooter. He kills me in the first twenty seconds.

  “The only thing I know about Colorado Springs is that it’s home to a ton of right-wing Christians,” says Ed. “Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your personal savior yet?” he says sarcastically.

  “I’m an atheist.”

  “Not even agnostic. A full-blown atheist?”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “An atheist believes there is definitely no god. An agnostic throws his hands up in the air and says, ‘Hell if I know.’”

  “Well, I guess I don’t know. No one does. That’s my problem.”

  “Your problem with what?”

  “Religion. There are so many and they all believe they’re right. They can’t all be right. I may not believe in a god but if I’m wrong so is most of the population who chose wrong.”

  “Not that much diversity in terms of religious choices in Forest Ridge,” says Ed.

  “I have one atheist friend and that’s about it.”

  “Who do the kids make fun of more?”

  “Definitely me. I’m the most hated kid in school. Though he’s mostly ignored by everyone, so also not a good situation.” I take a drink of my soda. “What religion are you?” I ask.

  “My Dad’s Jewish and my mom is some sort of new-age crystal worshipper. Don’t ask. And I just don’t care.”

  “So an atheist?”

  “If you had to put a label on it.”

  “Do people hate you for it?”

  “No. But plenty hate me for being gay. And most of the people who care about that are religious.”

  “Why do you think they care?”

  “Because they believe every word from a book written a few thousand years ago that says being gay is a sin.”

  “Don’t you just hate religion?”

  “Religion isn’t the problem. Plenty of people are religious and totally cool with gay people. For the most part I’ve found that those who are against gay people aren’t cool with anyone different from them, and they use old books to defend their hate. That way they can pretend it isn’t hate speech, they’re just protecting American values or some crap that they can twist around for their own purpose.”

  “Doesn’t that make you mad?”

  “’Course it does. But things are changing fast. Soon, people like me will be able to get married in every single state.”

 
; “Things aren’t changing fast in Forest Ridge. I’m hated for not believing in god, I can’t even imagine what they’d do to a gay kid.”

  “There is always going to be someone who has a problem with who you are or what you believe. But you’ll go to college, meet people you relate to, and life gets better. It really does.”

  “Can you tell Emily that? She hasn’t come out yet to our parents.”

  “She will.”

  “Can you tell her that it’s going to be fine?”

  “I don’t care how cool your parents are. Every kid is a little scared of coming out. She told you first. That must mean she really trusts you.”

  I pick up the controller and we start playing another game. I look over at Ed, “So did you know you were gay in high school?”

  “Yes. But I went to school in New York City at a performing arts high school. I wasn’t out of the norm.”

  “I wish I could go to one of those.”

  “Everyone is strange to someone. A right-wing Christian would have been torn apart at my school. Being a minority sucks. Hell, your sister gets made fun of here for being vegan. Here!”

  “I make fun of her for being vegan.”

  “Do you know why she’s vegan?”

  “She likes animals.”

  Ed stands up, grabs his computer, and searches for a video.

  “Watch this.”

  The video shows a warehouse full of chickens. Some dead. Some look half dead. Chickens in cages by the thousand. They sit in their own crap, and in some cases in the same cage as a dead chicken. And so they don’t attack each other while being piled into small cages, half of their beaks are cut off.

  All the chickens do is lay eggs. If they don’t lay eggs they are starved until their body is shocked into laying more. Those are the females. The males are killed as soon as they’re hatched, thrown in the garbage, and crushed under their own weight. I press stop.

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah,” says Ed.

  “I don’t think I wanted to see that.”

  “Yeah, that’s how I felt. Now you know, you can’t un-see it.”