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After the football game was over Owen and I made our way towards Heather and Tommy. Heather looked over at us and smiled brightly. Tommy looked at me in confusion. “Are you a girl or a boy?” I blinked a few times. Was my gender really that hard to figure out?
“Tommy! That isn’t nice!”
“I’m a boy. My name’s Isaac.”
“Tommy. And I just scored the winning goal!” He raised both of his hands toward Owen. They high-fived each other.
“Anyone want some goal scoring ice cream?” Heather chimed. Tommy yelled in excitement and made his way to her car. Owen laughed. His laugh was like Andrew’s, not too loud…not to soft. I really missed Andrew.
“Want to ride with me? We’re all heading in the same direction anyways. After the ice cream we’re staying the night at Auntie H’s anyway. Come on!” I didn’t object to Owen…in all honesty, I was too afraid to. I needed a friend right now. We drove for the most part in silence. Owen would occasionally try to start up a topic, but my mind was elsewhere. I kept thinking. I was worried about Andrew. What if he didn’t wake up? What if he died! My stomach felt uneasy.
“Dude, you ok?” Owen asked as he noticed my skin turning a shade of green. I shook my head no and rolled down the window immediately. Owen pulled over to the side of the road and let me spew the contents of my stomach onto the grass there. I got out of the car and continued to puke a little farther away. I didn’t want to get puke on his car. “Hey…do you want to just go back to Auntie H’s?” Owen gently rubbed my back at an attempt to comfort me.
“I wanna go to the hospital. I need to see Andrew!” Owen’s eyes held confusion. In the short time that I’ve known him, I’d forgotten that I never told him about Andrew. “Andrew’s my first friend. He’s also kind of my lover I guess. But we don’t really think that way.” Owen nodded in understanding. He sucked in his lips as his features were shaped in thought.
“I’ll call Auntie H and tell her we’re going to skip out on ice cream and go to the hospital instead.” I looked up at Owen. His creamy brown eyes were overflowing with his good-natured soul. I felt almost guilty. Before I could respond his phone rang. “Hello? Oh hey baby how are you?” He paused. “Yeah I’m actually with a friend right now. He’s got a friend in the ho-” His face molded into shock. “You can’t be serious!” Another pause. “Ok, ok. I’ll be there.” My heart sank. Of course something like this would happen to me. Now I’d never get to see Andrew. “Dude, I’m really sorry but my girlfriend Mandy, she thinks she’s…pregnant. She wants to do another test but she wants me there.” I didn’t want to be rude, so I nodded. I was angry with his girlfriend, Mandy though. Angry enough that I wished she were pregnant and then during childbirth she’d die. I wanted to see Andrew!
“I’ll take you to Auntie H’s. Maybe she’ll take you to see him tonight?”
“Yeah…maybe.”
Owen took me back to Heather’s apartment. He apologized about twenty times before leaving to see his girlfriend. I was still angry with her. I really wanted to see Andrew. I thought about calling Mrs. Page and asking her if she knew how he was doing. I walked into the room I was staying in and searched for my phone. Did I even bring my phone? “Darn it!” I had forgotten it when I left my house. I wandered around to find the landline. I finally located it in the titanium kitchen. My hands shook as I dialed the number. Why was I so nervous?
“Hello?” a deep voice asked. My breath hitched as I realized who it was. “Hello!” the voice said in frustration.
“Andrew!” I yelled happily into the phone.
“Isaac? Where are you? I’ve been calling your phone all damn day!” Andrew’s voice calmed my shaking hands and butterflies soared through my body.
“Sorry, I left my phone at home. I’ve got a lot to talk to you about. I’m staying at my nurse’s apartment right now. My dad and I…well…he…he almost killed me.” The other line was quiet. “But I’m ok now!” My heart raced as I could envision what Andrew looked like on the other line. His brow would most likely be knotted together in anger and I’m sure his free hand was balled into a tight fist.
“I hate your father.” I’ve heard him say those words before, but never had I ever heard so much venom and pure loathing in a person’s voice. Each word was embedded with so much hate I actually feared Andrew.
“I know. But I’d doing all right now. I even made a new friend!” I had to change the subject somehow or I’d be afraid that Andrew would become so angry he’d explode.
“That’s wonderful.” He didn’t sound like he meant it though. There was a bitter tone to his voice.
“His name is Owen. He’s Heather Lovely, my nurse’s nephew. He’s really nice.”
“Is he why you didn’t come see me?” Was Andrew…angry…with me?
“I visited you! I was there the night they did surgery and I visited you before I left the hospital when I went there cause of my dad! You just were never awake!”
“Is he cute?” I furrowed my brow in frustration.
“Andrew! He’s straight!”
“So he is cute,” he spat.
“God Andrew! Stop this! I’ve been so worried about you ever since the second I saw you lying in the creek! I thought you’d be happy that I made another friend! He was even going to take me to see you, except for his stupid girlfriend called and said she may be pregnant.”
“Stupid girlfriend? You jealous of her?” I had never been in a fight with anyone before. Tears swelled in my icy eyes as I fought back hoping that it would end.
“Quit it! As far as I’m concerned I still am single! You’ve never asked me to be your boyfriend! And I never even thought of Owen more than a friend! He was there to help me when you were gone! I can’t only be dependant on you! Because sometimes you may not be there for me!”
“Isaac,” His voice was calmer now, but it held a hint of shock. “I’m always going to be there for you if I can do anything about it. If I’m not passed out or dead, I’ll always be there for you. And I’m sorry about overreacting. I’m just used to it just being you and me. And I never asked you out because I was afraid that your dad would somehow find out.”
“You…you wanted to?”
“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend.”
“Then be it.”
“I love you Isaac. I truly do. Is there anyway you can get over to my house? I kind of have…something to tell you. But I’d rather tell you in person. It’s about my current condition.” My heart raced as I thought of the many possible outcomes of “his condition.”
“I’ll ask Heather when she gets back from getting ice cream with her younger nephew, Tommy.”
“Ok. You need directions right?”
“Yeah.” I listened as Andrew directed me to his house as if I were coming from my house. It actually was really close and I knew all the streets he named off. After he was finished he had me repeat the directions to make sure I knew where I was going.
“Good job. I’ll see you soon.” Hanging up the phone hurt. I felt so guilty for what had happened. I wish I had never taking him horseback riding! It felt like an eternity before Heather and Tommy showed up.
“Hey you! Where’s Owen?” Heather asked, as she looked though the apartment.
“He’s with his girlfriend.”
“Oh.” She didn’t sound to happy about it. Tommy ran over to the Xbox where he started playing some shooter game.
“Andrew’s home. He wants me to go see him. Could you give me a ride to his house?” Heather smiled brightly.
“Sure! Tommy, do you think you’ll be alright alone here?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t even look away from the television screen. He was way too into his game.
I couldn’t sit still in the car. I was too nervous. How serious was Andrew’s “current condition?” “You ok there Sparky?” Heather asked.
“I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t be. I’m sure Andrew is going to be just fine.” We pulled up to the house and I took a deep breath. The house wasn’t as nice as mine was. It was a two-story, average-looking house. I waved to Heather as I watched her pull out of the driveway. Nervously, I knocked on the door. Mrs. Page opened the door with a large smile plastered onto her face.
“Isaac! I heard about what happened between you and your father from your mom. I’m truly sorry. I’m also in shock on how your mother still isn’t going to leave him or press charges!”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine now.” She looked at me like she didn’t believe me. I didn’t like everyone knowing about what had happened. I wished they didn’t know. I felt so naked and uncomfortable.
“Andrew’s in the family room right over there.” She pointed to an archway leading to another room. I walked into the family room, the air smelled like cigarette smoke. I paused as I saw Andrew looking at the floor as he sat in a wheelchair.
“It’s sick right?” He sounded so broken I even cringed.
“Is it…permanent?”
“No. I have to go to physical therapy but I’ll be able to walk again.” I flung myself to my knees in front of him, wrapping my sickly pale arms around his waist. Tears fell from my eyes as I sobbed into his lap. He didn’t say anything. He just stroked my hair and waited for my breakdown to pass. I was relieved. He would walk again and he wasn’t mentally retarded. Everything would be ok now. It didn’t matter if my father knew about my sexuality or that I was now dating Andrew. I wasn’t planning on going back to that house ever again. It hurt as I thought of my mom, but it was better this way. She would be happier without her messed up son. It would hurt her for a while, but it would eventually heal, and then she’d be happy again. The tears dried from my eyes as I took in a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down.
“I love you Andrew.” I looked up at him. He was smiling. He pulled me into his lap and I nestled my face into the crook in his neck. “I’m never going back home.”
“You don’t have to. You can stay with me.” My heart fluttered. Everything was going to turn out just fine. “Isaac?”
“Hn?”
“About this Owen character…” I giggled as I heard the playful tone in Andrew’s beautiful voice. “Do you think I could eventually meet him? I want to make sure he’s good enough to be your friend.”
“As long as you don’t go falling in love with him. He’s cute.”
“Oh really now! So you do like him!” Andrew teased.
“I do not! I like him as a friend! That’s all!”
“Uh huh.”
“It’s true!”
“Sure it is!” I kissed Andrew on the lips forcefully. I could feel him smile into the kiss. His soft hands knotted themselves into my hair. I wrapped my arms around his neck. I wanted more of him. I kissed him roughly and he seemed to get my message. “Isaac, slow down a bit.”
“Sorry.” He giggled lightly. My heart melted. After so many years of pain and suffering, God finally answered my prayers. He gave me Andrew. He gave me someone who paid attention to me, who loved me for who I am underneath all the cuts and bruises. Someone I could tell anything to and know that he’d never judge me. Thank You, God. Thank you for Andrew. I think I’d be dead right now if You hadn’t given me him.
“You ok?” Andrew asked. His hazel-green eyes held so much concern for me. I nodded. “Well, since I’m a cripple and all for now, me driving is actually out of the question. So…what do you want to do?”
“May I…see your room?” Andrew looked down and bit his lip shamefully.
“I can’t get up there. I’m going to be sleeping on the futon till I can walk again.”
“Would it bother you if I went up there alone?” I don’t know why, but I really wanted to see his room. Word has it you can tell a lot about a person from what they have in their room.
“I don’t care. Have fun. When you’re finished we can watch a movie.” I ran up the dirty-carpeted steps noticing stains that looked like some kind of liquid spilled on them here and there. Compared to my house, this was really a dump. I guess when Andrew’s dad shot himself, his mom really did just let herself slip. I wandered down the short hall peeking into rooms. I came across a room with red walls and posters covering all of one wall. I ventured into the room. Unlike the rest of the house, it didn’t smell like smoke. It smelled like cologne, the kind Andrew wears. Clothes were crinkled up on the white carpet and thrown about. I looked at the things on his desk. Word was right, you can tell a lot about a person from his room. On his desk where CD’s, papers with scribbled writing, pens, and little knickknacks. Everything was unorganized and messy. I laughed as I looked at his excuse for a bed. It was just the mattress lying on the floor with black blankets half on and half off it. I liked his room. I was about to leave when I spotted a black electric guitar hiding in the corner that covered up by a wrinkled shirt. I didn’t know he played guitar. Smiling to myself, I picked the guitar up and brought it back down with me.
“How long have you been playing guitar?” I asked as I entered the family room again. Andrew shook his head and laughed in defeat.
“I played from eight grade to last year. I stopped though.”
“Why’d you stop?”
“You sure you really want to know?” I nodded enthusiastically. Andrew sighed giving up before speaking. “Well, when my dad was alive, he always told me that it was a family tradition to play an instrument. Any instrument. So I liked rock stars, I wanted to play guitar. I was pretty good and by freshmen year I got into this band of guys way older than me. They were in their early twenties. There was a guy in particular, named Zeke. He had a pink Mohawk and piercings all over. But I thought he was totally gorgeous, and eventually he thought the same about me. We started dating and well, boys my age liked talking about sex, while boys his age liked having sex. We had sex for the first time one night and I thought after that, that it meant we were in love.”
“So after that we had sex every time we saw each other. We fucked in cars, beds, showers, hot tubs…anything really. We thought it would be funny to have sex in a cornfield…so we did.” I giggled. “Yeah…we thought it was funny too.” Andrew’s face slowly turned from neutral to slightly pained. “Because of us, our band fell apart. We were always fucking and never had time to practice. One night, Zeke came over and when I invited him in he shook his head. He told me that he didn’t like me and he was only using me for sex. And also that the only reason he let me into the band was because I was cute. He even went to far as to say that I sucked at playing guitar and that I’d never be able to become a real rock star. I cried a lot that night and even gave up playing guitar. I haven’t touched that guitar ever since that day.” It took me a moment to drink it all in. Andrew thought he was really in love once, and that Zeke guy hurt him so badly. I felt anger burn in my heart. It spread like fire to every part of my body. My fists balled up and I clenched my jaw. So this is how Andrew feels when my dad hurts me.
“Play for me,” I said forcefully. I pushed the guitar into Andrew’s lap. Shock and a bit of fear entered into Andrew’s eyes.
“Isaac, it’s been so long. An entire year of not playing is like a lifetime of not playing. I’m probably horrible now.”
“Play for me. Prove him wrong! Prove to Zeke that he can’t control what you do! Don’t let him rule over you! Don’t…don’t let him have that kind of power over you.” Tears threatened to fall as I realized what I was saying. I wasn’t saying these words just to Andrew; I was saying them to myself as well. All these years I’ve let my father rule over me. I’ve never had the power to stand up for myself. Zeke was like my father. He used Andrew just like my father used me. I had to go back and say how I truly felt to my father. To tell him that he had no power over me and that I would live my life the way I wanted to live it. I wouldn’t stay in the closet to him. I’d scream it right into his face that I’m in love with Andrew, and tell him he couldn’t do a thing about it. Andrew placed his long fingers over the strings, forming a chord of some sort. He strummed with his thumb and hummed a song. I listened, slowly recognizing the song, “Face Down” by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. It was as if he could read my mind. Even though the song was about a girl being in either an abusive relationship or even about her own father beating her, it was my story too. A man in my life was beating me and now I was going to tell him that I have had enough.
“Andrew…” I couldn’t say anything more. Tears blurred my eyes and a lump built up in my throat. His hand stopped strumming and he placed the guitar on the floor.
“When I heard that song I thought it was catchy. When I found out about what had happened to you, it had a meaning to me.”
“It has a lot of meaning to me too,” I croaked the words out. Tears streamed down my face as I continued to sob. A cold finger brushed the tears away from my cheeks, and then soft lips replaced where the fingers touched. I shut my eyes. I wouldn’t cry anymore. I wouldn’t let my father feel the gratification of making me cry. A phone rang shattering our moment. Mrs. Page hurried to the phone and spoke into the phone. She giggled and twirled the chord around her finger. When she hung up she squealed and ran into the family room.
“Andrew! I’ve got a date tonight!” she said lighting a cigarette.
“Good for you.” It sounded to me like Andrew didn’t like it.
“Andy, this one isn’t like the others.”
“That’s what you always say,” Andrew said looking up at his mother.
“But this time it’s true! He’s a dentist and a really great guy.”
“You do know that when he dumps you, I am going to kill him.”
“I think this one may be different, Andy. Just wait and see.” She scurried out of the room and up the steps. Occasionally the ceiling would creak depending on where she walked, as she got ready for her date.
“I just wish my father hadn’t killed himself. Everything would be perfect if he was still alive.” Andrew looked away from me. At first I thought it was because he was lost in thought, and when I saw his body shake I finally realized what was happening…he was crying. I knelt down in front of him once again and placed my hands on his knees. He sniffed and wiped away his own tears. I swatted away his hand.
“No, no. This time, it’s my turn to be your shoulder.” He leaned into me and cried louder. I rubbed his back slowly, hoping that his mom wouldn’t come down the stairs and see us. And to my extreme delight, and most likely to Andrew’s too, she didn’t. He calmed down and moved back into his wheelchair. His perfect face was slightly flushed red and tear stains streaked his cheeks. I didn’t know what to do or what to say. How do you tell someone whose father shot himself in the head that it was ok? You don’t, because it’s not ok. No one should hate their life so much that they’d actually take their own life. People who say suicide is selfish don’t understand the half of it. When a person truly wants to take his or her own life, it isn’t because they are being selfish; no one wants to die, they are so unhappy because so many things in their life are wrong that they can’t see any other choice. It isn’t just their fault. No one chooses to have an unhappy life. Other people can affect that person in either a positive or negative way. I know this, because I have been there. I wanted to die so badly when I didn’t have Andrew. I couldn’t see any other way out. I felt Andrew’s gaze burning into my face.
“I like it when you’re so deep in thought. It’s cute to watch your eyes portray everything you’re feeling.”
“My eyes have nothing in them,” I stated bluntly looking to the side.
“Correction, they used to have nothing in them. If you looked at yourself in the mirror, you’d see that you’ve changed. You’re eyes are now like a book and I’m able to read what you’re feeling.” I blushed madly shrinking away from Andrew and into the futon. “Ha! Lets walk a movie. Funny, scary or romantic?”
“Funny!” It was somewhat funny watching Andrew struggle to reach the DVD’s and a little sad. I had offered my help but he told me to sit down. He obviously didn’t like the damage the wheelchair was doing to his pride. I continued to watch him struggle. They were just too high out of his reach. “You know Andrew, I could help you get one…”
“I got it.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” His eyebrows knitted together in frustration as he continued to reach. I couldn’t take it anymore. I blamed myself for what had happened to him and in all honesty, it really was my fault.
“Andrew please! Let me help you!” I screamed at him. The sudden raise of my voice startled him. He sat back in his wheelchair and rolled next to the futon where he used his arms to move him out of the wheelchair and into the futon.
“Pick any one you want,” he mumbled. He folded his arms over his chest. I didn’t move for a moment. I stared at him.
“Andrew…I’m so sorry,” I said with anguish clearly evident in my voice. He snorted and shook his head.
“It’s not your fault. I was an idiot for fucking trusting a horse! It’s cool just stop looking at me like my head’s chopped off and pick a fucking movie!” I didn’t like the way he was yelling at me. It almost reminded me of my dad. Instinctively, I shrunk farther away from him. My heart raced as I thought of what I should do. Should I just get a movie or should I tell Andrew that he was scaring me? I decided on neither. I crawled into his lap and rested my head on his chest. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t move either. We lay like that for a few hours. I was listening to his heartbeat as I finally finished off my thoughts for that day. The last thing I could remember thinking about was how stupid I was for ever associating Andrew with my father.
or ill never do it again!
