Nobody’s Hero (10 page)

Brad groaned and closed his eyes. Everyone was going to think he was some kind of basket case.

“Don’t worry about it,” Danny repeated, gripping Brad’s shoulder before returning to the others.

Brad couldn’t hear everything being said as the others talked, but he recognized the tones of the murmuring. Concern. Curiosity. No ridicule as far as he could tell, but they’d probably wait until he and Danny were gone before they started gossiping about him.

Panic attacks always left him exhausted, and his mind drifted while he waited. It had been years since he’d relied on anyone to help him. Maybe he could trust Danny not to let him fall.

Chapter Thirteen

“It was the fire, you know.”

Danny took his eyes off the dark, empty highway long enough to look over at Brad, who had been asleep for the past hour. In the dim light from the dash, Brad’s pale skin glowed a sickly green, his eyes dark and too big for his face.

“I had no idea a fire and something as stupid as a burning marshmallow would trigger a panic attack,” Brad continued, staring out the passenger side window.

“It makes sense,” Danny said. He’d had time to think during the past hour of driving. “You were already a little keyed up after telling me about Carson. I think it was too much so your brain sort of shut down.”

“You must think I’m a complete nut job.”

“No,” Danny said quickly, “I think you’re someone who’s got a lot on his mind.” He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let Brad think otherwise.

“Yeah, a lot on my mind and I’m too much of a pussy to deal with it.”

“Have you thought about seeing someone? A counselor or psychologist?”

Brad snorted. “Yeah, right. Shrinks are for the weak-minded. Greenes do not require mental help. They pull themselves up by their bootstraps and get over it.”

Danny assumed he was quoting someone. One of his parents, probably. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway. My family has an image to uphold. Being gay was enough to get me sent to military school. Seeing a psychologist would probably have been enough to have me institutionalized.”

Danny wanted to argue, to tell Brad he was an adult and could make his own decisions. Hadn’t he already tried cutting all the ties with his family? It wasn’t his place, though. Not yet, at any rate.

“I told you I wasn’t a good bet.” Brad’s voice was quiet, almost too soft to hear. It was almost like a question instead of a statement, as though Brad wasn’t quite as sure as he had been.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Danny gripped the steering wheel to keep from touching him. But Brad was too locked up inside protective walls to accept the comfort at the moment. Out of the corner of his eye, Danny watched Brad pull his feet onto the seat in front of him and wrap his arms around his bent legs until he could rest his forehead against his knees. “Don’t play dumb.” A bitter laugh accompanied the words.

“So you have panic attacks.” Danny slowed to take a sharp turn along the rural road. “Not discounting the cause of them, but they hardly make you high maintenance or dangerous.”

“You don’t get it.”

“Explain it to me. I want to understand. I do.”

“I’ll let you down. Something will happen and you’ll get hurt and it will be my fault.”

“What happened with Carson wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

“It
was
my fault. I was stupid. Selfish. Because I was, he nearly died! I saw...” His voice cracked. “I saw pictures from the hospital. It was so horrible. He...he didn’t even look real. His face was swollen and bruised from the beating and half his body was covered in burns. It was something out of a nightmare.”

Danny slowed the Jeep and pulled over to the side of the road. He hit his flashers, released his seat belt, then turned to Brad. He had curled himself into a ball. Danny cupped his hand around Brad’s face and urged him to look up. When Brad did, Danny said, “Not. Your. Fault.”

“It’s not just that, though.”

“What else is it?”

There was a long pause. Danny wasn’t sure if Brad would answer. “I still love Nolan.”

“What?” Danny didn’t know where he thought the conversation was going, but that direction hadn’t crossed his mind.

“How twisted is that? He did something so hateful, so horrible, but I still love him. I mean, he’s still my brother. I can’t turn it off. And he’s in jail now for what he and his friends did. And that’s good and right, but it’s my fault. Again, it’s my fault. If I wasn’t the way I am, he’d never have done what he did. And now he’s in jail and I want him to stay there and I hate him for what he did. But...I love him too. How can I hate him and love him at the same time?”

Danny tried to imagine his brother or sisters doing something so horrible. How would he feel? Would such cruelty erase the years of love and support? Could it?

Danny chose his words carefully. “I think you can love someone and hate what they do. You can love and look back on the good times, and distance yourself from them in your future.”

Yellow light illuminated the Jeep. Neither of them said anything until the passing car had disappeared into the black night.

“I had to testify at the trial.”

“Against your brother?”

Brad let out a bitter laugh. “Sort of, but not quite. The prosecution wanted me as a witness to the motivation of the attack. Turns out the defense wanted me for the same reason.”

“Jesus. Seriously? How does that work?”

“In order to prosecute Nolan’s attack as a hate crime, they had to prove Nolan acted because Carson was gay, essentially proving Nolan knew and the knowledge led to the assault.” Brad rested his chin on his upraised knee.

“And the defense?”

“My brother’s defense was he was protecting me. He told everyone he’d caught Carson trying to force me. It was his duty, you see, to look out for his baby brother.”

“What did you do?”

“My parents tried to keep me from testifying. They had their lawyer file a couple of motions to have me exempted, first because of my age, then another one to protect the family’s interests. No go. I had to show up. So they came up with a new plan. They couldn’t keep me from going to the trial, but they figured they could spin my testimony to help Nolan. I was supposed to say Carson coerced me or brainwashed me or something.”

Brad’s face was neutral. He could have been talking about someone else. “They wanted you to lie?”

“Not in so many words. I think they convinced themselves it was the truth.”

When Brad didn’t say anything else, Danny asked, “What did you do?”

“I thought about running away. Just not showing up. By this time I’d been at Norton almost a year, and Georgia is a long way from St. Louis. But in the end I was a coward. They’d find me and then I’d end up in jail and be forced to testify anyway. So I followed directions like a good little boy and went to the trial.” Danny’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. What a terrible choice to make. Tell the truth and betray his family or lie to save the family and betray the ex. “What happened when you were on the stand? How did your parents react when you didn’t follow their script?”

“What makes you think I didn’t?”

“I’m getting to know you,” he said. “You don’t have it in you to lie, especially in court, no matter what the consequences. You’re too good, too honest.”

Brad hugged his knees tighter. “Yeah, well, fat lot of good it did. I had to admit I was in a secret relationship with Carson. The prosecution loved forcing me to admit I hid it from my family, my brother, because I feared their reaction. The defense loved forcing me to admit my brother and his friend caught Carson and me together, which seemed to support my brother’s story about protecting me. In the end, I was forced into admitting to the world, or at least the courtroom, I was gay, and my testimony didn’t make a difference. The prosecution had enough evidence without me, and no one was buying my brother’s claims of protection since the attack took place a few days after he’d caught Carson and me together.”

Danny reached over and rested his hand on Brad’s shoulder. Brad’s body vibrated like one of Bobby’s guitar strings.

Brad looked at Danny for the first time since he’d started talking. “Have you ever stood in front of an entire room of people who hated you? Who judged you?”

Danny shook his head.

“That’s what it was like. My brother glared at me, blaming me for what he did. My parents looked at me like I was some kind of nasty bug they found crawling out of the drain. I swear, even the judge watched me like I couldn’t be trusted.”

“Did you see Carson during the trial?”

Brad began rocking in the seat. Danny didn’t think he was even aware of the movement. “Yeah,” he finally said. “That was the worst. I swear, he hated me as much as he hated Nolan. No one, not the lawyers, not my family, would let me near him. I wanted to see how he was doing, to apologize, but they rushed me in for my testimony and rushed me out afterward.”

Danny wanted to tell Brad again that it wasn’t his fault, that he wasn’t responsible for his brother’s actions, and make him repeat it over and over until Brad believed it. But nothing he said would convince Brad, not with Brad in the mood he was in. Again, Danny wished his father was there. Papá always seemed to know the right thing to say in any situation.

He had a pretty good idea what his father would say. But would it help or would it simply piss Brad off? Only one way to find out.

“You need to quit feeling sorry for yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

Danny winced at the betrayal in Brad’s voice, but didn’t let it stop him. “That’s some serious shit, and it sucks. But you’re letting the guilt ruin your future. As a student, you qualify for Carleton’s student health services. Find someone who can help you deal with this so you can move on. Don’t let it define you.”

Brad jerked away, looking out his window. “You don’t know anything about it. You with your perfect family, you wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re right.” Danny shifted the Jeep into Drive. “I don’t know what it’s like to go through the things you’ve gone through. That doesn’t mean my life has been perfect. You try growing up Mexican and gay in a town the size of Northfield. I was a prime target for bullies and bigots. But I know God wouldn’t give anyone more than they can handle. We can take the challenge, survive and grow from it, or sit back and let it crush us. Personally, I’d rather kick ass than get mine kicked.”

“Whatever.” Brad jabbed at the radio, turning the volume up high. He spent the rest of the drive ignoring Danny.

By the time they pulled up in front of the house, though, Brad’s angry posture had slumped and, instead of stubborn, he looked weary.

They’d retrieved their bags from the back seat when Brad, not quite meeting Danny’s gaze, asked, “Do you really believe that?”

“Believe what?”

“Believe God wouldn’t give us more than we can handle?”

“Yeah, I do. I believe in fate, or predestination, whatever you want to call it. I believe everything happens for a reason. When bad shit happens, the way we deal with it defines us and, ultimately, impacts how we handle things in the future. Take my grandparents. They came to America with nothing, migrant workers following the crops. When
mi papá
was born, they didn’t have a real home, only a room they rented.
Abuelo
didn’t want to raise a family on the road, so he worked two jobs and
Abuela
did people’s laundry to make extra money so they could build a house. They still live in that house. And that house, and the pride my grandparents had in it, is one of the reasons
mi papá
got into construction. He wanted to build houses and give people homes like the one he grew up in. See, things happen for a reason.”

As he spoke, Danny led Brad up the driveway and to the back stairs leading up to Brad’s apartment. When they reached the door, Brad inserted the key in the lock, but didn’t open it. He tilted his head back and looked up toward the stars.

“I’m tired of keeping my distance, tired of being so
alone
. But I’m scared. I couldn’t take it if something happened to you or your family and it was my fault.”

Hope surged through him. Brad had been thinking about them together, not just the consequences. That had to be progress, right? “Nothing’s going to happen.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Okay, but even if something did happen, it wouldn’t be your fault. And what will you be missing out on if you keep everyone at arm’s length?”

Brad bowed his head and opened the door. “I think... I think I’m going to work on it.”

Danny shoved his free hand into the pocket of his red jeans to keep from touching Brad. Given everything that had happened today, Brad might take it as pressure. “Good.”

“Thanks for bringing me home. I’m sorry I screwed up your weekend.”

He couldn’t help it. Danny pulled his hand out of his pocket and grabbed Brad’s shoulder. “It’s no biggie. It’s what friends are for.” More than friends someday, he hoped. “Good night, Brad. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He’d made it halfway down the stairs before Brad called his name. Danny looked up.

“Tomorrow night,” Brad began, then paused long enough Danny worried he had changed his mind about what he was going to say. “Tomorrow night,” he began again, “do you want to do something? I’d like to make it up to you for screwing things up today.”

The voice in Danny’s head that was squealing
He wants to go on a date!
was cut off abruptly. Brad wanted to apologize. Danny shook his head. “Nah, man, you don’t have to. We’re cool. I promise.”

Brad swallowed hard before saying, “Come by tomorrow night. We’ll hang out, maybe figure out something to do?”

The squealing inner voice started to sing and dance. It wasn’t a date, but a step in the right direction. “Yeah, that’d be cool.”

“Cool.”

Danny waited until the door had shut behind Brad before he grinned.
Yes!
Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad night after all.

“What are you doing here?” his brother’s voice demanded from the other side of the screen door to the kitchen.

Danny jumped and dropped his backpack. “Shit, Ray, you scared the crap out of me. What are you doing sneaking around at this time of night?”

Ray held open the screen door with his shoulder and crossed his arms across his chest. “I just got home. Aren’t you and what’s-his-face supposed to be out camping or something?”

“We came back early.” No way was he going to explain to Ray about Brad’s panic attack, not as long as Ray was still calling him “what’s-his-face.”

“Obviously. I saw your little exchange on the stairs. Looked awfully romantic. For a minute, I thought maybe you’d be spending the night with him.”

“What’s with you?” His brother had been acting weird for months now, and it had only grown worse since he’d gotten beat up and dropped to the curb like a bag of garbage. Danny pushed past Ray and caught a whiff of alcohol. “Christ, you’ve been drinking? Don’t let Mamá catch you. She’ll skin you alive.”