by Jenn Cooksey
I don’t think I could’ve chosen a better person to lay it all out there for. Brandon did exactly what I did for him a few nights ago, which is what I needed from him, and that was just listening without judgment and then opening up to me in return as a show of good faith. When the pool hall closed for the night, he and I went back to his house and I learned a little more about him and how he grew up, which is essentially a teenage guy’s wet dream of how to grow up…until they actually live it and realize being allowed to do whatever the fuck you want whenever the fuck you wanna do it and with whoever the fuck you wanna do it with without being held accountable to a single living soul isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.
That night back in November when he said his dad never got over his mom leaving, he wasn’t kidding. His dad is a general manager for a large chain of hotels and also happens to have a massive drinking problem. He’s rarely home and when he is, he’s usually passed out or well on his way to being passed out. Brandon has three brothers, the oldest of whom, with little real help from their father, raised his younger siblings the best way a fourteen-year-old could, but he eventually moved out and left everything up to the next oldest and so on. Now that it’s just Brandon and his dad, the bills get paid because Brandon inherited access to his dad’s bank account from one of the brothers, Charlie, who hacked into it so all the bills can be paid on line. He has clean clothes because he does all his own laundry, and the only reason there’s anything aside from booze and beer in the fridge is because Brandon does the grocery shopping. All like he was taught to do by his brothers before him. And that’s pretty much how it’s been since he was a little kid of five.
As we were sitting on the couch, eating carne asada nachos at three in the morning, I asked him, “You ever get pissed off at either of them?”
He rocked his head from side to side a little, considering the question, and said, “Mmm, not anymore…Matt, my oldest brother, he used to get really pissed off at my mom though. He’d throw things and yell and scream about what a bitch she was for leaving us with my dad, but I never felt that way about her and he eventually stopped cussing her out in front of me when Jaden told him I was up on the roof refusing to come down until he apologized,” he chuckled and shook his head, thinking about the memory, “I was like eight or something and Matty was goin’ off because my dad was visiting a hotel in San Francisco and had forgotten to mention he’d lost his wallet and that he’d cancelled all the cards, so when Matt went shopping and the debit card was declined, he had to come home empty handed. He was pissed at my dad of course, but he was more pissed at my mom…he was jealous, you know? He wanted to be with her instead of our dad. We all did…
“Anyway, I started crying like I always did when he’d go off and then I protested on the roof…Jaden, he was the peace maker, he tried to talk me into coming down, but I wanted Matty to apologize to me and to Mom. The fucker let me sleep up there for two nights before he finally came up, handed me a donut and apologized to both of us. That’s when Charlie hacked my dad’s bank account and created a separate account for us to use for house stuff, and then he forged my dad’s signature on the direct deposit paperwork. And I guess I used to get mad at my dad for bein’ so weak and not taking care of us, but, it didn’t do anything, you know? It was a giant waste of time and energy so I stopped getting mad and decided to just live my life for me.”
He went on to explain that it was actually his third oldest brother, Jaden, who got him into music and encouraged him. They had a piano in the house and every time Brandon would start to get upset when the brothers would fight or their dad would come home falling-down-drunk, Jaden would plunk him down on the bench and tell Brandon to play anything so he could drown out the bullshit. From what he said, he has a natural ear and can pretty much play any instrument someone hands him, and when Jaden recognized his little brother’s rare ability, he went to Matt and talked him into putting Brandon in music classes where he learned how to read and write music, and he eventually developed a deep love for something that initially began as a convenient way to keep himself from crying about his shitty childhood.
Sunday afternoon we went to Jaden’s to watch the Superbowl game and when it occurred to me that all the brothers and their friends were there, getting along and having a great time, bar one, I was told a little more. Charlie had essentially been ostracized from the family when he refused to accept Jaden’s alternative lifestyle choice. You see, he’s gay. When Jaden came out, it created a fissure the size of the Grand Canyon between Charlie and Matt. Jaden, who I guess has always been Matt’s favorite brother, didn’t care that Charlie couldn’t accept him, but Matt did and in a proclamation similar to Brandon’s roof protest, he told Charlie that if he wanted to be a member of their family, he’d have to apologize both verbally and in writing. He said that brothers love and accept each other for who they are. Period. You don’t have to like it, but you do have to accept it and respect the choices they make in their lives to be happy, and after all the four of them had been through, he should know that better than anyone.
Anyhow, it was fascinating to me as an only child with both parental units present in my life to observe such a completely different family dynamic. It was also very beneficial in distracting me from the steaming pile of shit I’d recently heaped on top of my already odiferous love life. Over the duration of the time I spent with Brandon, he didn’t try to impose his views or advice on me, which I appreciated because I hadn’t asked, but when he and I went our separate ways and mocking myself, I mentioned again the blue flames of Hell, he said one thing that he knew would be hard for me to hear and even harder for me to do.
“Find forgiveness, bro, and then flush this shit. You need to if you ever wanna shake the demons and breathe again.”
You know, it really kinda sucks when you can honestly say the analogy of your life being a toilet bowl is disturbingly accurate, don’t you think?
Chapter Nineteen
Thursday, Week Four
Stalemate, Day Four ~ Tristan
Thursday was the same as the all the rest since I’d gone one better in fucking up the lives of my baby and myself. The only difference between Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and today was who approached whom between Camie and me. She’d been the one to come to me on Monday. She begged me to tell her what was going on, why I’d let her believe I’d broken up with her this whole time, etc. I, in turn, refused to tell her on the grounds that it would hurt her more if she knew and I wasn’t gonna do that to her. Then it was my turn to beg. I pleaded with her for understanding on that, appealed to her heart to take me back, and flat out beseeched her to not go to the dance with that guy. Regardless of who initiated and the location or time they took place, our supplications to each other always ended the same way. In a stalemate. With me telling her I wouldn’t explain why I’d done what I had and her telling me she couldn’t give me anything I was asking of her without the truth.
Oh yeah, they also always ended with her in tears and me swearing or hitting something while fighting back my own tears as she walked away.
Another unpleasant factor was that Camie and I would make our highly emotional bids to each other at school. Usually right after school, but sometimes at lunch or during the break, and sometimes, like today, we’d make it a hat trick with all three in one day. Those latter ones could be said to be the hardest because we still had the rest of the day to get through, but for me, the hardest encounters were the ones that took place after school. I mean every time she walked away I was left bleeding, but the times after school…well, they were the ones that made my chest feel like it was a bleeding geyser. They were the ones where we argued our cases orally as well as physically. Don’t misunderstand what I mean by that; there was never anything violent or sexual…we were both just finally listening to our instincts. It would typically start after we’d reached the end of that incident’s entreaties; she’d start crying and I would pull her to me just so I could hold her, but once or twice she just walke
d straight into my arms before we said a word to each other and then she’d start crying and begging. Or, I would.
Everyone had been watching us too. And I do mean everyone. I guess I can’t really blame them though, seeing as how this had been goin’ on for days right in front of them. It’s still fucking irritating though to realize the heart wrenching drama in your life is serving as a kind of entertainment for others who don’t really know what it feels like to live it. However, watching aside, no one tried to listen in and no one asked any questions. Everyone was staying out of it. They gave us the most privacy they could and just watched from a distance. Even Jeff and Kate, which is kind of surprising. Not once did Jeff try to corner me into hearing his thoughts or force me to talk about it, or, anything else for that matter. Shit, I’m still not even sure what to make of that…all I can think is that I must be doing a really stellar job of wearing my agony for all to see so there’s no reason for me to say anything about it. All he’d do after letting me vent out my torment in whatever way I’d chosen that particular time is clap me on the shoulder and walk with me in silence to class or the parking lot, or wherever. Pete was just as silent, but, it was harder for him. Our link has been giving me flashes from him so I know we’re getting close. But that also means he’s getting flashes from me as well and right now, I just don’t have the emotional strength and stamina to block him in order to keep him safe from this shit. Even Jillian was somewhat affected. I caught a glimpse or two of her heart again each time Camie and I faced each other after school. I would be holding Camie as she cried in my arms and Jillian would watch for only a moment, and then, shaking her head morosely, she’d just walk away. Although one time, I saw her wipe something off her cheek before she passed out of sight to meld with the rest of the student body.
The only thing about Thursday that was markedly different is that someone chose to cross over from simply watching. She approached me after school, right after one of the harder times while I was desperately trying to not show the world that I was completely broken and crying inside. She must’ve watched the whole scene between Camie and me too and when Camie disappeared into the locker room to change, she crossed the invisible line.
“What the fuck is your problem?!”
“What?!” I hollered as I whirled around in surprise to see her standing there with her hands on her hips, completely pissed.
“Your problem, Tristan, what is your problem?” She asked with more compassion this time.
“Well, gee whiz, Melissa, I appreciate you pretending to not already know and all, but I’m gonna tell you to blow me and then to fuck off just the same,” I spit at her in anger and turned to go into the locker room where I could cut the fucking shit out of my knuckles again by punching my already dinged and dented metal locker.
I was stunned when she grabbed me by the arm and then slapped me across the face, yelling, “Knock it off!!”
“W—what the FUCK?!”
“Don’t you dare walk away from me, Tristan! I’m sick and tired of seeing you do this to yourself! And her!”
“You gonna go hit her too?!”
“No, because she’s not the one who needs help, Tristan, you do!”
“Oh, you think you can help me?”
“Yes. I do.”
“You don’t know shit about it, so back the fuck off.”
“Oh yes I do! And I’m done watching you kill yourself everyday because you’re too stubborn to realize that’s what you’re doing!”
That’s what did it. What made me stop for a second and decide to actually hear the words she was saying. “What do you think know, Melissa? Tell me why you think out of everyone on the planet you’re the one who knows what I’m going through.”
She sighed and with eyes shining from unshed tears she said, “Tristan, I’m not gonna pretend to know what you’re going through with Camie, but, I know a little about the guilt you’re dealing with…and I remember you were the only one who recognized what it was gonna do to me, and out of all my friends, you were the only one who would’ve stepped up and not let me go on living with it. You can be pissed off at me for the rest of our lives for this, but I’m stepping up just like you would’ve done for me.”
“So what’s your plan, Melissa? How are you gonna fix me? Because I’ll be perfectly honest here, I’m really fucking broken and even if you had all the king’s horses and all the king’s men, I don’t think you’ve got what it takes to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.”
“No, you’re right, I don’t. But, you do…Tristan, remember when I cheated on Keith and I was feeling so horribly guilty about it?”
“Yep,” I answered and shook my head. I know where she’s goin’ with this, but, it’s just not the same.
“Do you remember telling me how guilt will eat you alive if you let it and then asking me if it felt good to come clean?”
“Yeah, but Mel—”
“Because that’s what you need to do! Tristan, she’ll forgive you, you know? I mean, if Brandon had come to me and told me he’d cheated, I would’ve forgiven him, but…that’s a whole different scenario so whatever…but, even if she doesn’t forgive you, you still need to come clean to her so this tapeworm like guilt won’t kill you!”
I couldn’t help it; I looked at her confidently defiant expression and chuckled.
“What? What’s funny? I’m being serious!”
“I know and that’s what’s so ridiculous…fuck, Melissa, I’m not trying to be a dick here, but you really have no goddamned clue.”
“W—yes I do! It was hard, but you can tell her and put a stop t—”
“Melissa, I wish it were that, I really do, but, I didn’t cheat on Camie.”
“Y—you didn’t?” She asked in what could be said to be massive confusion or mild shock.
You see? I knew that was what she was thinking and I wasn’t kidding when I told her I wished that’s what I’d done. I mean, shit, that would be a breeze to admit in comparison to telling Camie I was gonna rape her when she along with her parents and everyone else trusted me to keep her safe in every way.
I was shaking my head and ran my hand through my hair in frustration. “No. I didn’t. And just so you know, Brandon never cheated on you either.”
“What?! How would you know whether he did or not?!”
“Because he told me. I asked him if he was before you ever accused him of it…he said he wasn’t and I believe him.” It wasn’t my intention to rat Brandon out by telling Melissa something he could very easily tell her himself but for reasons that basically amount to wounded pride he hasn’t. But in between going through my self-imposed torture, I’ve been doin’ a little watching of my own and I’ve seen some things that lead me to believe Melissa’s on the verge of making an even bigger mistake than when she accused Brandon of cheating on her and I’d really hate to see that happen.
“Well, uh, I don’t know what to say, Tristan, except that he lied to you…”
I considered her and that possibility for a second and decided to ask, “Let me ask you something, what makes you so sure he was cheating on you?” Because really, I love girls and everything, but, they really know how to jump to the wrong conclusions about shit. Yeah, okay, I realize I haven’t exactly been the poster child for getting theories right lately, but whatever…unless she has pictures to prove otherwise; Brandon’s word is good enough for me. He didn’t cheat.
“I caught him,” she answered simply.
Oh. Well, that changes things, doesn’t it?
“You cau—fuck! Jesus, Melissa, how the hell did you handle that?!” I’m simply floored. I can’t imagine what I would’ve done if I ever actually caught Camie cheating on me. I mean thinking she did and being wrong about it was bad enough… “And does he know you caught him cheating?” Brandon might be a little rough around the edges, but he’s definitely not stupid. If he knew she’d seen him cheating on her, he wouldn’t bother trying to lie to me about it. I mean, what’s the point? He’d know that she
’d eventually say something to someone and I’d hear about it…witness this conversation.
“I went home and cried, that’s what I did. And no, he doesn’t know. I knew he had a rehearsal with the band, but I wanted to surprise him so I left cheer practice early one day to go watch them, thinking we could go out afterwards or something, and when I got to his house, where he was supposed to be…well, he wasn’t. I sent him a text and asked where he was, and I was sitting in front of his house when he replied and said he was practicing, so I got out of my car and went around to the back just to be sure, and because the studio door was locked, I knocked. No one answered because no one was there.
“So, I turned my phone off so I wouldn’t call him or text him or anything and I just went home. And cried. I was waiting for him to feel guilty about it, you know? Like you and I did…I figured he would at some point. Feel guilty I mean, and then he’d tell me and I could forgive him, but, that’s not what happened. He never felt guilty or even bad about it and he broke up with me instead.”
I was nodding my understanding and agreement but then it hit me. She never actually saw him with another chick or anything…he just wasn’t someplace she thought he should be. I mean shit, there could be any number of non-cheating reasons for him to not be at his house in the garage studio where the band normally rehearses! Oh thank God! I was really starting to believe he’d lied to me even after this past weekend, which, honestly, would’ve stung more than I care to admit.
