One Voice 02 - Here Without You (19 page)

So the above was the part that was suitable for the One Voice blog.

I
WATCHED
Casey closely while the video played. He knew I was gonna show it at the meeting, and we’d watched it a few times in our room so the topic didn’t take him by surprise. But I knew the bullying topic hit real close to home, and I didn’t take my eyes off him. I wished like hell Nate were there to hold him close while we watched and during the discussion that followed. At times like Sunday night, Casey needed the feeling of protection that Nate inspired. Nate—solid, tough, burly—would do his damnedest to make both of us feel safe. And we did, when he was around, which is the key phrase.

The dude isn’t around.

So the job fell to me.

And I wasn’t doing a very good job. At the One Voice meeting, I failed epically. I just watched him. I didn’t hold him or even go to him. I was kinda frozen in place.

To make up for it, I tried to be extra attentive afterward, when we got back to the room. At about midnight, I thought I heard a sniffle, and I knew Casey was upset. So I pulled myself from my bed, stepped across the room, and stood beside him. “Can I get in with you?”

Casey slid over so he was against the wall and pulled back the covers for me.

As soon as I was under the covers, I drew Casey down against my chest and held him. He felt so small, and real fragile too. He was shuddering. I knew he was fighting back sobs.

“I c-can’t d-do this much longer, Z-Zander….”

I knew what he was talking about… and I knew he was right. Because I couldn’t love Nate from afar, hope he’d see the light, and wonder if he was okay for very much longer either. Casey and I weren’t really living. We were just waiting.

And living life for what would maybe come tomorrow, or maybe next week, or maybe not ever, wasn’t working for us. It wasn’t healthy for either me or Casey.

Casey must have confused my silence for disagreement, because he started explaining himself. “It hurts too much not to know if we’ll ever see him… and hold him and love him again.”

I smoothed the soft skin of his shaking back and slid my fingertips slowly up and down his spine. “Don’t worry, Casey. I can’t keep doing this either.”

Casey’s body stiffened in surprise.

“If he won’t see us or talk to us this weekend, I think we need to move on.”

It was as if someone had lit a fire on the soles of his feet. He jumped—or maybe lurched up—so he was kneeling beside me on the bed. “You’re going to move on—without me?”

I felt like someone had kicked me in the gut. Just the simple thought of leaving Casey did that to me. “No—no, of course not.”

He still didn’t relax. “Y-you said m-move on….” His voice was weak, a mere whisper.

“
We
need to move on, Casey. If Nate refuses to see us, or talk to us, or if we can’t find him,
we
need to move on with our lives… and become a couple.” I was sad about this, and a big part of me felt hollow, but there was no sense in torturing ourselves over something that might never be, ever again.

Casey’s shoulders drooped, like he was giving up. He repeated into that dark room the very essence of what I’d just said. “If we cannot work things out with Nate over Thanksgiving weekend, then you and I, Zander, will proceed as a couple.”

He allowed a deep sigh, which I followed with a deeper one of my own.

T
HAT
’
S
HOW
it’s gotta be, bro. And you, you lucky guy, will be in New Hampshire to witness the fallout of our attempt to talk to Nate, whatever it may be. I’m kinda glad about that. I think I’m gonna need you then.

And by the way, did Ma mention to you that, in her usual maternally devoted manner, she’s decided to take a late-fall ski vacation at Killington Resort in Vermont for the frigging entire holiday weekend? Yup. No Ma and no “Alex.” That’s her flavor-of-the-week boyfriend’s name. I sure hope Abby can cook…. LOL.

Know what? I’m about 110 percent certain that Casey’s family will invite us to Thanksgiving dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Minton are more of a family to me than Ma ever has been. You and Abby will love them.

See you two on Wednesday, early. I’ve got such mixed emotions about this weekend. Psyched to see you and Abby, worried sick about Casey, freaked out at the prospect of talking to Nate, and worried as hell we won’t be able to find him.

But all that has to happen. Time passes and it
will
happen. Didn’t know baby bro was so philosophical, did ya?

Later, D.

Z

21

N
ATE
’
S
D
IARY

Sometime right before Thanksgiving, I think—not too fuckin’ sure.

C
AN
’
T
FUCKIN
’
believe I even got my frozen-solid fingers to hang on to a pencil. But I got into my truck, and there you were, you dumbass notebook. Sittin’ on my fuckin’ seat—like the only friend I got left in the world. So I started writin’.

Got my ass fired. Fuck my boss. I wasn’t
that
friggin’ late for work.

Shit happens. Y’know?

So sick, I am. Not coughin’ no more, really. Just feel like crap, head to toe.

Hot, cold, barfy as all hell.

Got no money. Got no gas. Got no beer or pot. Can’t even start the goddamn truck no more.

To make matters worse, if that’s possible, it’s fuckin’ freezin’ outside.

But I ain’t hungry… ain’t been hungry in fuckin’ days.

Down to one last jug of water that I filled up in the Mickey D’s bathroom back when I had gas in my truck.

Then that’s all she wrote on the whole “stayin’ hydrated” thing too.

Don’t give a shit.

And sad to say, this shit ain’t the shit that sucks the most in my sorry-ass life.

The worst shit is missin’ them two.

Guess I threw ’em away, like Cindy threw me away.

Like everybody and their brother threw me away.

Threw Casey and Zander out before they could throw me out, I did.

Nate DeMarco is a worthless piece of shit.

I ain’t even worth the energy it’d take to kill myself.

If I stay here long enough, down by the lake in my frozen-ass truck, no food or drink and sick as a fuckin’ dog, I think Mother Nature’ll do the job and kill me off.

At least a guy can hope.

Ain’t smiled in a long while, but that thought has me grinnin’.

I miss Cindy’s whinin’.

Miss my guys.

Miss Casey’s soft sweetness.

Miss Zander’s I’m-so-cool swagger.

Gonna go to sleep now.

If luck is with me, I won’t wake up.

C
ASEY
’
S
REAL
LIFE

D
ESPITE
MY
anxiety about what we were planning to do that night, we had a pretty good day on Wednesday. We left Boston City College midmorning and headed straight to Zander’s house to spend the day, as his brother Dan and his girlfriend had gotten in late Tuesday night.

We took the train to South Station and then a bus to Concord, where Dan and Abby picked us up at lunchtime.

Zander was so excited to see his older brother that he flung himself into Dan’s arms. “Bro, it’s so fucking good to see you. Shit, man, I missed your ugly ass.”

I supposed this was the way long-lost brothers treated one another. I only had two tiny sisters, and if I said they had ugly asses, my mother would have a word or two to say about it.

“And Abby, my sister, you are looking fine.” Zander was in her arms before I could blink. “Abby, this is my boyfriend, Casey. Casey, this is Abby.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” Abby had warm eyes and a wide smile. She leaned into me and added quietly, “All good things, of course.”

I smiled back at her. “Of course.”

“So you guys have a kinda big weekend planned, huh?” Dan, who I’d met before and even spent a fair amount of time with over the past few summers, looked at Zander and then at me. “You two up for what you gotta do?”

Well, that was such a direct question. I let Zander reply.

“We have no choice—the two of us are stressing out constantly over this situation with Nate—the time has come to do something about it.”

Dan and Abby nodded and looked to me to see if I had something to add. And since they were clearly interested in my opinion, I let my inner chatterbox loose. “I have been having a difficult time with this. I mean, I miss Nate more than you can imagine, but not knowing if we’re ever going to connect with him again is killing me. And Zander too. Like, a couple of nights ago, I just couldn’t sleep. I kept crying. Zander calmed me down, but… but I can’t live like this.” My eyes filled and my chest tightened. Before I could stop it, my mouth got dry, and I knew I was going to vomit. “Bathroom….” I left the others to get my duffle bag, and I sprinted into the bus station, searching frantically for a men’s room.

It was “a nasty-ass bad scene,” as Nate would have said. I vomited repeatedly. My tight chest wouldn’t release. But I refused to take the meds that allow me to breathe more easily, because they also put me to sleep. And I couldn’t go to sleep, because that evening we were going to deal with Nate.

By the next day, Thanksgiving Day, I would be sitting at my dining room table, eating a traditional turkey dinner, and thanking God for my boyfriends—or my boyfriend.

A
FTER
A
light meal of soup and crackers that Abby decided my fragile stomach could tolerate, I called my parents and told them we were safely back in New Hampshire and that we were going in search of Nate. They knew of our plan to confront him, and although they were anxious for us to reconnect with our third partner, who they loved like a son, they were mainly nervous about me. I had a tendency toward depression, and Mom and Dad wanted to protect me from situations that might upset me.

When I got off the phone, Zander was waiting for me outside in the apartment complex’s parking lot, by the passenger seat of his mom’s sedan. “What did your parents say?” he asked.

“They just said that they are certain I can handle whatever happens with Nate, you know, that they have confidence in me.” I took Zander’s hand from the window where it rested and lifted it to my lips for a quick kiss. “But I don’t think they hold out much hope for our throuple. In fact, Mom said that when she’s driven by the gas station over the past several days, Nate hasn’t even been there.”

“So she thinks he’s moved away or something?”

I tried but couldn’t read Zander’s expression as he asked me this.

“I don’t think they would be shocked if we can’t find him tonight.” Zander opened the passenger door for me. I climbed in.

Once we were both in the car, Zander spoke again. “Let’s start at Missy’s house.”

“Okay.” We had to start somewhere, and that was at the other end of this huge apartment complex, so it made perfect sense.

It only took three minutes to get there. We both hopped out of the car and headed for the stairs. We would walk this difficult road together.

Zander knocked on the front door. And then he knocked again and nobody came to answer.

Nate wasn’t in there.

Strike one.

O
NCE
WE
were back in the car, Zander said softly, “Let’s try the minimart.”

Again I said, “Okay.” There was little enthusiasm in my voice.

The minimart was crowded when we got there, as people were getting last minute ingredients and gas for Thanksgiving holiday travel. Nate was not working at the pumps. We didn’t even recognize the guy who was attending. So we went into the minimart and were pleased, or at least slightly encouraged, to see Missy behind one of the cash registers.

“Grab a couple bottles of water. We’ll get in Missy’s line and talk to her while she’s ringing them up.”

The line moved quickly, and soon we were standing in front of Missy.

“Hi…. Missy, right?”

“Who wants to know?” She didn’t look up from the register.

“Um… we’re Nate’s friends, Zander and Casey.” Zander, normally so confident, had a tremor in his voice. “Is he still staying with you?”

At that she looked up, directly into Zander’s eyes. “I kicked that asshole out like a week ago.”

Zander looked down at me, a flash of concern crossing his brow. “A week ago?”

“Fuck, yeah. He’s an asshole.” I thought she’d already covered that fact, but for some reason she felt it necessary to repeat.

Finally I opened my mouth. “Where did he go? Where is he living now?”

If looks could kill…. “Ask me if I fucking care.”

I felt Zander’s hand on the back of my neck. He rubbed a bit, and I tried to relax. “Look, Missy, we need to talk to him. When is he scheduled to work next?”

She grinned, and her already narrow eyes crinkled up at the corners. It was a purely evil grin. “Like… never. Got his nasty ass fired.” She fingered her stiff hair, made a halfhearted attempt to flip it over one shoulder, and then snapped her gum.

Zander’s hand fell from my neck. We both stared at her.

“When was the last time you saw him?” Zander had a bit more spark left in him than I did.

“Not that I care, but I saw him over at Mickey D’s a couple of days ago. He looked like shit, and you can tell him I said so. Now I got customers, so would ya mind clearing out?”

And just like that, we’d been dismissed.

Strike two.

O
NCE
AGAIN
sitting in the car, I looked across the center console. “So what do we do now?”

“I guess we just drive around… you know, look for him,” Zander said, staring out over the dashboard.

“We aren’t going to be able to find him. You
know
we aren’t.”