Authors: J.P. Barnaby
Aaron (13 page)
Aaron checked his watch as the instructor paused, to see there were still nearly twenty minutes of class left. He waited, but it seemed the lecture was over for the day. The woman two seats over sat quietly, and the boy next to him looked around curiously. Since they didn’t have lab work, maybe that meant they were getting out early. Aaron was fairly excited by the prospect.
“Okay, guys, I’m going to end there to give you time to get to know your new project partner and maybe start work on your plan,” Dr. Mayer said, bringing up a class list on the overhead. Aaron felt the sweat begin to bead on his forehead, and the room was suddenly much hotter to him, his shirt collar suffocating him. The instructor was going to assign their partners. He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t stand the look on some poor girl’s face when she saw he was her partner. Taking a deep breath, he tried to force himself to calm down.
“As I call your name, stand up so that your partner can find you.” Okay, fuck calming down. When his name was called and everyone turned to look at him, they would all just stare. Everyone fucking stared. He was a sideshow freak. Grabbing his laptop bag from the floor, he bumped the boy next to him by accident as he threw his notebook, textbook, pen, and recorder haphazardly into one of the pockets and nearly turned over the chair in his haste to get out of the room.
“Mr. Downing!” The instructor called after him as he reached the door and took off at a dead run toward the parking lot, not even stopping to call his mother to tell her he would be early. When she arrived, nearly fifteen minutes later, she found him sitting huddled into a small ball at the top of the stairs to the lab building with his arms wrapped around his bag, staring at his shoes.
“Aaron, honey, let’s go home,” his mother prompted a third time when her first two responses were met with a terrifying silence. Finally, Aaron looked up, blinking in surprise to see his mother standing there. Slowly, he stood and followed her to the car on deadened legs. He sat in the passenger seat, still as stone, until they reached the driveway in front of their house. His mother pulled her keys from the ignition, removed her seat belt, and turned to him. Before she had a chance to ask, he answered her question.
“I never found out who it was.” Aaron spent the next ten minutes explaining to his mother why he had felt so trapped and why he needed to get out. She nodded, like she understood, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.
“I’m just going to have to drop the class. I can’t let another student fail because of me,” Aaron sighed as he got out of the car and walked up to the house. Each step felt like he was dragging himself up the walk. He couldn’t wait to get upstairs so he could lie down. It seemed as if, lately, he had been the poster child for lethargy. In the afternoons he would get a soda from the fridge, use it to wash down a few pills, and chase unconsciousness.
When Aaron got inside, he headed upstairs first to change into a long-sleeved T-shirt and sweats. He knew from experience that the more comfortable he was, the easier sleep would come. Well, except they were hot as hell. All his clothes, every piece was designed to cover his skin— from the long-sleeved shirts to the full-length pants. He never wore anything, not even in midsummer, that showed the scars on his arms and legs. They sickened him. It was enough that he couldn’t hide the ones on his face and neck. They were all a constant physical reminder of his nightmare, haunting him through every waking moment.
When he came back down for his soda, he heard his mother talking. Since they were the only ones home, he had to assume she was on the phone. Feeling faintly guilty about listening to her conversation, he turned to go back upstairs, but stopped when he heard his name.
“No, Aaron is all right. He was just… uncomfortable with the method you chose for pairing your students. He didn’t want a room full of people staring at him as he stood up to find his partner,” his mother said, and it sounded like she was starting to lose her patience. “No…. No… you couldn’t have known.” God knows his instructor could not have predicted that Aaron would run out of class. Most of the time, Aaron really had no idea what would set him off, and he’d been living with his neuroses for over two years.
She would talk to Aaron? Not that she would talk to Dr. Mayer for Aaron? Talk to him about what?
Mildly irritated, he walked into the kitchen as she set the cordless phone on the counter. Continuing on to the refrigerator, he grabbed a soda from the bottom shelf. Should he just stay and talk to her now, or go up to his room? Sleep sounded really good right now. Unfortunately, his mother had made the decision for him.
“Aaron, could we talk for a minute?” she asked in a voice that left little question she wanted to have a serious discussion with him. Her posture was almost rigid and her expression determined. He opened his soda, considering, and finally resigned himself to the inevitable. Taking a seat across from her at the table, he braced himself.
“I’m going to drop the class,” Aaron told her, trying to beat her to the punch. He had no idea if she knew he’d heard her conversation, but he hoped she would take that decision and leave it at that.
“I agree that is one option,” his mother said, surprising him. He didn’t think she would take that as a viable option. When she did, he relaxed, just a little. “There are other alternatives too.”
“First, I want you to think about something. Dr. Mayer doesn’t generally assign partners in his classes. This is the first time he has ever done so. Usually, he lets students pick their own partners, but he did it to save you the anxiety of finding one on your own.” This did surprise Aaron. He knew that Dr. Mayer would probably be a lot easier on him than he needed to be, but to go out of his way like that just to make one of his students feel more comfortable…. It wasn’t just the mark of a good teacher, it was kind.
“Why do you feel like you can’t do a project with another student?” his mother pressed, bringing one hand up to cup her chin as she prepared to consider his answer. He just wasn’t sure he could give her one. She wanted him to reason out his fears, to justify his panic when there was no logic to it. If he could act rationally and logically control his emotional responses in the first place, none of this would be an issue. So, rather than trying to explain the fear, he tried to describe it.
“When I think about having to spend the amount of time needed to complete this project with a stranger, to see them stare at me, to feel their judgment and their pity, I feel panicky,” he said, trying to articulate the feelings as well as he could.
“Okay, I can accept that. I cannot say that I understand, because I don’t, and I won’t patronize you by saying that I do.” It was one of the first times in his life that his mother had spoken to him like an adult. He found he appreciated it, more than he could say. It was mildly
disconcerting, though, because he was so used to her trying to placate him. “So, what if you and your partner did a majority of your work through instant messaging or texting or e-mail?”
In his head, Aaron started to protest, but since he couldn’t find a logical reason, he closed his mouth. What if all the work could be done over the computer? He could e-mail his instructor when he had a question, and that was okay. The better question was, why hadn’t he thought of it? He had been so preoccupied with the thought of having to interact with someone that it never once occurred to him that it wouldn’t have to be in person.
“Now, you can certainly tell me I’m wrong, and maybe I am. I’m wondering if there’s another reason you don’t want to work with someone, why you avoid people in general. Your best friend was murdered, and I’m wondering that you think maybe if you let yourself get too close, too invested….”