End of the Innocence (36 page)

My sorrow was now mixed with absolute and complete awe of the guy in front of me. There was
Wayne’s World
“I am not worthy” and then there was the actual truth that the person you are with is so out of your league, that every day with them is a fucking gift from God.

That was where I was.

“Come on,” he said, giving me a smile. “Let’s get going.”

He began to walk me toward the car, but I pulled him back into another hug, my arms wrapped around him tightly as I tried to will my love and dedication into him. “I love you so much.” I felt him hug me back.

“It’s going to be okay, Brad. I promise.”

I wished I believed him.

The funeral home was on the other end of town. I had never been there myself, but as the only mortuary in town, everyone knew where it was. When we arrived, the parking lot was packed, and I saw a ton of people walking into the small chapel. Kelly’s dad stood at the entrance. Next to him was a picture of Kelly, probably taken for his senior class portrait. Something else he would never see. I swallowed hard and tried to force my emotions down as we got out of the car.

My hope that this day would get better vanished when Kelly’s dad saw Kyle and me walking toward him.

If you have never seen actual hate on someone’s face when they look at you, let me tell you, it is not something you just shrug off. There is an almost physical wall of emotion pushed toward you, making your steps slow no matter how sure you are that they won’t hit you. To his credit, though, Kelly’s dad didn’t so much as skip a beat.

When we got up to him, he said through gritted teeth, “I don’t think you boys want to be here.” There was still a smile on his face, and those who were at a distance probably thought he was simply greeting us. Anyone closer would be able to see the murder in his eyes.

“We’re here to pay our respects,” Kyle said, not even blinking. “We’re not here to cause trouble.”

“Then leave,” Mr. Aimes said, his hands balled into fists.

Kyle and he stared at each other for several tense seconds before Kyle asked, “Or what? You going to take a swing at me? Try to beat me up? You sure you want everyone here to see what you really think of gay people?” I gave Kyle a double take as I saw the older man’s face redden with fury.

“I loved my son,” he growled.

“So much so you were going to send him to a straight camp? You loved him so much that you demeaned him and his sexuality?”

“My son was not gay.” He took half a step toward Kyle, and I moved between them.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Kyle shot back. “If that’s what lets you sleep at night, then you scream it from the rooftops, but we both know it’s not true.” I really thought Kyle was going to take the first swing.

“Do you think you were doing anyone any favors with that stunt at school?” he asked. “Embarrassing us like that? After that crap, you expect me to let you in?”

Kyle laughed sarcastically. “Incredible. Kelly is dead, and you are still more worried about what other people think. You know what?” he said, his voice changing. “You’re right; I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be anywhere near you.”

“Good. Then leave,” Mr. Aimes commanded.

“Your son is in a better place,” Kyle continued, ignoring him completely. “He is in a place where there is no fear or hatred or any of that. He is beyond that now, and that makes me feel good because I know it’s where he belongs. But you know what makes me feel even better? The fact that you will never see him again.” I actually gasped, but Kyle just kept talking. “See, you’re not going to get to that place, Mr. Aimes. You are going to spend the rest of your miserable life with the knowledge that you helped cause your son to kill himself. And when you die, you won’t be sharing heaven with him. You don’t deserve to.”

“Get the fuck out.” Now it looked like Kelly’s dad was going to hit Kyle.

But Kyle just kept on talking. “We’re taught as kids that we’re supposed to trust our parents, to run to you for safety when we’re scared and hurt. We’re told a lot of things that aren’t true. I was told there weren’t monsters under my bed or in my closet. That much was true. What I wasn’t told is that there are real monsters, out walking around in broad daylight.” Kyle reached past him and grabbed the picture of Kelly. “You know what happens to monsters at the end of the story, Mr. Aimes?” The man was visibly shaking with rage. “Someone comes along and slays them.”

Kyle turned back toward me. “I need a ride.” And he walked away.

I fumbled for something to say to Mr. Aimes, but everything that came to mind all boiled down to the same sentiment. “Fuck you,” I said and followed after Kyle.

He already sat in the car, as angry as I had ever seen him. I got in the car and looked over at him. “Where are we going?”

“Drive out East Avenue,” he answered, staring straight ahead.

“What’s out there?” I asked, confused.

He looked at me, and I could see he was barely holding on. “Please, Brad, just drive?”

Without another word, I turned the key, backed out of that horror of a funeral, and did as Kyle had asked.

Once we left the city proper, the world around us could have been the surface of the moon. So much of Texas was made of up these open, barren places where no one lived. We huddled together in our cities and towns, small groups of humans clinging to each other like survivors from a shipwreck. We should have been able to work together to make sure we didn’t really die on a reef, but we just couldn’t. Surrounded by a gigantic world bent on its own business, we wasted our time snarling and clawing at each other. I just had no idea anymore where all this hate came from. What did it prove? What did it accomplish?

Besides killing people.

We drove for almost an hour before he said, “Over to the right.”

And out in the middle of nowhere, there stood a bar.

“What is this place?” I asked. The parking lot was full of cars and trucks. I could not imagine a place like this being a big attraction.

He didn’t answer as he got out of the car, Kelly’s picture clutched in his fist.

“Kyle, wait up!” I said, running after him. “We’re underage. We can’t go in there.”

He stopped, looking toward me but not really seeing me. “We can go in there; trust me.” He put a hand on the door and looked back at me. Wherever his mind had been, it had returned, because he saw me clearly. “Come on.” He gave me a ghost of a smile, and he cocked his head toward the open door.

I took a deep breath and walked in.

The bar was full of guys who turned to stare at us. I froze. Most of them were dressed somberly, and they looked like we had interrupted something extremely serious. “Kyle?” one of them asked, and I realized it was Robbie.

“Take his picture,” Kyle said, jerking a thumb at me. He walked over to the bar and told the bartender, “I need a tack.”

The guy behind the bar, a bear of a man, considered the request for a moment and then handed him over a thumbtack. Kyle turned to face the other side of the room and began walking. The people parted like the Red Sea as Kyle made his way through the group. I heard a couple of people let out a strangled sob when Kyle reached that wall full of pictures.

He put the picture of Kelly up and tacked it right in the center of all of those faces.

Robbie sobbed quietly as he watched Kyle staring at the wall for a long time. No one talked as they waited for him to finish. He touched one fingertip to Kelly’s picture and hauled in a deep breath.

Then Kyle turned around. His expression made his face look as if it had been carved out of stone. He looked around the bar and then at Robbie. “I was wrong. I was wrong about everything. I have six months before I leave this town and go to college.” He paused for a moment before he asked, “How do I fix Foster?”

That was the moment Kyle began to change our world forever.

R
EAL
life can suck.

I really don’t have a follow up to that statement, just stating a fact. Real life, at times, can suck. The problem, as I see it, is that we can’t skip to the end of the book. I think life could be made better if in the middle of a crappy day where everything is going bad, I could just open a magical Kindle and skip past this part and see what happens next. I mean, sure, I got ragged on, and I looked like a homeless person, and I am pretty sure when I was talking to that one guy I had something in my teeth, and my cat is giving me attitude, and of course the cable went out the night the show I wanted to watch was on….

But what happens next?

With a wave of my finger, I could scroll into the future and see that the people who ragged on me were actually just having a bad day themselves and apologized by buying me a smoothie, and that the boy I was talking to with something in my teeth liked the fact I looked like I made no effort to dress up and asked for my number, and the show I wanted to watch was a rerun anyway, and my cat… well, my cat always has an attitude, so that is never going to change.

If I could just see what comes next, I might be able to get through what is right now.

Of course, it doesn’t work that way. Even though we might be able to skim through our own story just to cheer ourselves up, we would not resist the urge to test the limits, and we would end up abusing that power in, like, fourteen different ways. It’s human nature: give us an inch, we want a mile; give us a rope, and we think we’re a cowboy. Still, being able to skip ahead to see tomorrow would be very cool.

I have found life is a lot like a rat running through a maze without having an idea whether or not there is cheese at the end.

The walls are high, it’s almost impossible to turn around in, and no matter how far I go, everything looks like everywhere else I’ve been. It can be daunting, it can be overwhelming, and as I previously stated, it can suck. At this point I’m not sure what kind of cheese is at the end of the maze, but I swear to you, it better be some real good cheese or someone is in trouble.

The only time I find myself not worried about the maze, and the possible lack of cheese, is while I read. There’s nowhere I can get lost in like a book, not even a good book, just
a
book will do it for me. Books are safe, they are comfortable, and above all else, they are not me. I like not being me for a little while. It’s refreshing.

So if you have gone through this book and find yourself sad, or upset, or even a little betrayed, I understand.

If you went in wanting a nice little vacation with Kyle and Brad, you might feel like this was not the trip you wanted to take. And while your feelings are completely valid, and I am in no way going to try to change your mind about that, I want to point out one small fact.

For some kids out there, what is in this book is their real life.

There are kids out there right now walking around thinking about killing themselves. You may never know it, they may never even let on about it, but they are seriously thinking about it.

I know because I was one of those kids.

I walked around for years thinking about killing myself because I was so utterly depressed about my life. I had a boyfriend who had a girlfriend. He didn’t want anyone to know we were together. I had friends who had no idea who I really was. My home life sucked, and there was no way out for me. I was miserable, and I spent every night crying and hoping for one of two things to happen.

For things to get better or for me to gain the courage to kill myself.

I tried and failed three times. Three times in my life I worked up the courage to go ahead and end my life. Each time I failed and was given a second and then a third chance.

Looking back now, I think someone on high was on my side (for some of you that is God. I myself like to think that Thor was on my side. No, I am not Norse, nor do I pray to Thor, but the thought that someone who looks like Chris Hemsworth is watching out for me makes me happy. Very happy. So very happy that maybe you should stop laughing and give me a break, huh?). If you asked me even five years ago if there was a reason why someone like God (Thor) would spare my life, I would tell you no: I am just a guy.

But… recently I have begun to think differently.

You see, I wrote these books, and people like you read them, and some people have written me and told me how much they meant to them. They say things like it made them happy, it made them realize that they weren’t the only ones out there, and one reader even said it made him realize that though life might suck right now, there might be a Kyle or Brad out there waiting for him. Those are heady words, and I take each and every one of them to heart. I really do.

So maybe there was a reason Thor didn’t let me die.

Maybe I was always supposed to write these books, and maybe you were always supposed to read these books, and maybe, just maybe, it all makes sense in some cosmic way. Maybe I was supposed to write these words to save your life and in doing so you saved mine. Maybe. I don’t know. Chris Hemsworth works in mysterious ways.

But I can tell you this with absolute certainty.

I wish I had had that magical Kindle back then to skip to now and see what was going to happen. If Past Me could see Now Me and look at the difference these books have made….

Anyway, just a thought.

Now about the book. Everything that has happened in the
Tales from Foster High
series has happened to someone. Every event has been taken from real life and has happened to a real person. Bullying is very real and cyber bullying doubly so. Teen suicide happens all the time and not just to gay and lesbian teens. All of this happens all the time. That is a fact.

What is also a fact is there are ways you can deal with it.

There are organizations out there that can and will help you. There are people out there who want to help so bad it hurts. People who hate and hurt others may make the most noise and, therefore, get the most press. For every hateful person who is trying to push you down, there are three normal people who would gladly extend a hand to help you up in a second. And if you think killing yourself is the answer? I am sorry, friend. You are not just wrong, but you are stupid as well.