"Oh yeah. It's just that your best friend is a complete dick," Nate replied, still whispering.
"Come down here so we can talk properly," Abel said, gesturing toward the front of the truck. Nate exhaled, trying to breathe out some of his anger, and followed Abel's instruction.
"That man is just exhausting. He will not give me an inch. Just nothing, and I don't know why. I don't know what I did that was so bad that he can't even consider forgiving me. I ran away when I was sixteen, but I needed something more than he thought I deserved. I don't want to apologize for that. It just seems so wrong." Nate buried his head in his hands. "Every time I think I'm making progress, he just throws me back to where I started." He sighed sadly.
"I wish that you didn't feel this way. I wish that I could do something to take all of this pain away and leave behind all the great things you have done and learned about yourself. I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless."
"You don't have to do anything. It means a lot that you're here."
Nate lost his footing when he felt Abel's lips against his. The kiss happened quickly, a brief peck, before Abel pulled back, seemingly startled at his own brazenness. The look on Abel's face showed the kiss had been automatic rather than planned. The kiss had felt natural and right, like they had been kissing each other goodbye for years; it was awkward and sweet and terrible and great. Nate felt like they were the only two people in the world.
He stood still, shell-shocked, and watched Abel get back in the car and drive away.
Nate pulled his cell phone from his pocket and clicked on Cecily's number.
"Hi there, honey. What's up?"
"I feel like the world is spinning off its axis and everything has been turned upside down—but other than that, everything's fine. You?" Nate replied, sitting on the porch steps.
"Well, the most exciting thing that's happened to me recently is that I shrank half of my tees in my stupid new washing machine. What's thrown you so off-balance?" Cecily sounded concerned, her breezy tone shifting a little.
"Nothing as exciting as your laundry debacle, but I just got kissed and I didn't hate it," Nate said, wincing at the word kissed as if it was a swear word.
"Who kissed you? I thought that you were going to the middle of nowhere! How did you find someone so quickly? Is there anyone there for me?"
"Oh please, you would last five minutes here… We don't even have a Starbucks. And it was Abel. Abel kissed me."
"The handsome bully?" Cecily asked.
"Handsome
former
bully."
"And how did it feel?"
"It was quick and seemed out of the blue. It was over before I really had any time to think about anything, but I liked it, or at least I didn't want it to end." Nate tried to make sense of his feelings as he spoke.
"What happened when the kiss was over?"
"He got back in his car and drove off. It was annoying but kind of sexy. I don't know… I don't know anything. I'm so confused, tell me what to do."
"Well, what are you confused about?"
"I'm confused because I'm scared and because I don't know what I am supposed to do. I don't want to make a mistake and I'm worried that everything is just too complicated. I had this image of how everything would happen and it's getting blurrier and blurrier. I didn't expect any of this. I feel like I've got one foot on the gas and one on the brake, and I don't know which one to push down on."
"What are your instincts telling you to do?"
"Hide in a duvet and drink wine until everything works itself out."
"Yeah, that's exactly what you should do," Cecily replied sarcastically. "What are you instincts really telling you to do?"
"I don't know. I just don't want Bailey to get hurt. And I don't want Abel to get caught up in something that he can't get out of. This is uncharted waters for me. I don't want to be one of those people who jumps between relationships because he is afraid to be alone. But I don't want my life to come to a standstill either. What if the best years of my life have already happened?" As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Nate knew that they revealed a fear that he hadn't really been able to admit to himself. He
was
worried that true happiness had walked out of his life at the same time as Joshua.
"You are too smart and too cool to let that be the case. You're right to want to protect Bay and Abel from heartache, but you also have to pursue your happiness too. I truly believe that a happy parent makes a good parent. What is Abel like?"
"He's just so decent. He's one of the good guys – which is not something that I never thought I would say about Abel Jones. Bailey likes him a lot and we're friends with his sister. There's definitely a spark there, but I don't know if I can do it again. I really want to right up to the point that I don't."
"It sounds like you owe it to yourself to talk to him about what happened. You don't know how he feels about everything—he might throw some light on things. But you should remember that things usually have a way of working themselves out as long as you're being true to yourself." Cecily's voice was soothing and kind. Nate wished that he could get in the car and drive to Cici's house.
"Cici… Thank you so much. Next time we speak can you make sure that you've had a personal crisis so I can say insightful things and feel good about how smoothly everything is going?"
"Well, I'm about to do a second load of laundry, so if my dresses are Barbie sized by the end of the night, you may have the talk me off the edge."
"I'll be here."
"Talk to him."
"I will."
"Okay, call me with updates. I miss you."
"I miss you too. I'll let you know what happens."
Nate clicked off the call. When he looked at the home screen, he saw that there was a text on his phone from Abel.
Abel: I'm sorry, I don't know what happened.
Nate: Don't be sorry. I don't really know what to say.
Abel: Me neither.
Nate: How do you feel?
Abel: Good, bad and a bit in the middle. You?
Nate: The same. I'm all over the place. You couldn't just let me have a peaceful life, could you?
Abel: Sorry.
Nate: Stop apologizing.
Abel: Do you still want me to take you to the school tomorrow?
Nate: Of course. I'd love you to be there. If you want to be.
Abel: I can't wait to hear you speak.
Nate: And what do we do about tonight?
Abel: We can put it to the side for a while. Pretend that it didn't happen for a moment – just so we can get through tomorrow.
Nate: That's gonna be hard.
Abel: Sure, but you don't need any more pressure. We'll talk about it again when the time is right.
Nate: Abel?
Abel: Yeah it's me.. did you think you were texting someone else? You must have had a busy night!
Nate: Shut up. I just want you to know that whatever happens I think you’re a really good guy.
Abel: Me too x You should get some sleep… good night x
Nate: Goodnight x
When You've Learnt, You Should Teach
Abel pulled his car into the high school car park and the car shuffled into stillness. Nate felt like he was taking part in some kind of play—they were trying too hard to avoid talking about the night before. The more they ignored the kiss, the more space it seemed to take up in the car. The decision to ignore everything had seemed so sensible at first, but it was starting to feel impossible.
Nate looked through the windshield at the intimidating public building to distract himself and felt his stomach churn. The fact that he hadn't been back since the day he'd run away with Joshua hit him hard. In the ensuing years, he had built it up to be the epicenter of hell in his mind, a place where everything had been awful all of the time. Logically, Nate knew that he must have had some good times there with David and Jennifer, and he remembered some good teachers, but all of that had been eclipsed. All he could recall was feeling that there was something different, something better for him, and not knowing how to reach it. He remembered not fitting in and not yet knowing that that was his greatest strength. Remembering the cruel whispers and the crushing disappointments, Nate wanted to jump out of the truck and run away. The strange feeling of always being an outsider in his own environment still had a lot of power, even ten years later.
He looked down at his hands and saw that they were shaking.
"You can do this," Abel said sweetly, somehow sensing the anguish that trickled through all of Nate's limbs.
"Yeah, Dad. You can do this," Bailey repeated, squirming around in his seat.
Nate closed his eyes for a second, inhaled deeply, and opened the passenger side door. He wasn't convinced that he could go ahead, but he wanted to do battle with some old ghosts and win. He wanted to bring the new him to the place where the old him had felt so alone. He lifted Bailey from his seat and followed Abel through the imposing front doors.
David stood at the reception area, beaming. He looked official in a well-cut suit and polished shoes. He wore stylish glasses and leaned against the wall like he owned the whole place. "You better hurry up, they're baying for blood," David said, winking.
"I'm nervous, I think this might be a mistake. I don't know what to say to a bunch of students about writing! I've barely written since I came back. Maybe I should go." Nate rubbed his clammy palms against his trousers.
"Dad is nervous," Bailey explained, as if Nate's bumbling wasn't enough of a giveaway.
"Well, he shouldn't be. What happened to you, Bay? You're like six feet now!" David said, kneeling down to Bailey's level. Bailey hugged David.
"I haven't seen you in a long time, Uncle Dave. Not since you came to our house with Aunty Jen. Oh, Aunty Jen. I miss her a lot. I wish she was with us. I think Dad wishes she was with us too." Bailey shuffled his weight around and looked at the carpet mournfully, the memory of Jennifer's death clearly hitting him hard.
"It's okay. Aunty Jen would have loved to have seen you so big. You look like a rock star." David picked Bailey up. "Now let's take your dad to see his adoring fans."
While Bailey was distracted, Abel put his hand out swiftly and squeezed Nate's. A small, sincere, and needed show of support.
When Nate walked into the auditorium, the students burst into a round of applause and wolf-whistles and stomping. Girls held copies of Nate's books and called his name so that they could get his attention. It was like a superstar had glided into the room, not a non-fiction author. David mouthed 'I told you' knowingly and carried Bailey to the back of the room, followed by Abel. A lot of girls followed Abel with their eyes, wondering who the hunky stranger was.
The cheering died down and Nate stood still in the middle of a makeshift stage; he looked up and saw hundreds of expectant faces looking at him. He walked from one side to the other, trying to quiet his mind enough to form even vaguely understandable words.
"First off, thank you so much. I encourage you to greet everyone in your life like that. When you parents come home from work, just clap and holler for them. And your teachers—whistle and stomp. It really is a wonderful way to be greeted. They might think you're nuts, but at least they'll know you appreciate them." Nate felt himself loosen up and his voice took on a steady, somewhat confident rhythm. "Instead of me standing here lecturing you about writing or life or whatever it is people do up here, I thought I would let you ask questions and do my best to answer them." Nate gestured to the audience and three students raised their hands instantly. Nate pointed to a shy-looking girl.
"I just wanted to start by saying that I've read all of your books, like, a lot of times. They always make me feel so safe and I always look to them when my boyfriend is being shitty. My mom says you're like my Oprah." The girl pulled her plaid skirt down a little.
"That's my dad, everybody," Bailey yelled, his little voice echoing through the gymnasium area. The crowd laughed and cheered and looked up at Bailey, who was jumping up and down on David's lap.
"Sorry about that, that's my son. He's a little showboaty; I have
no idea
where he gets that from," Nate blushed. "But continue…?"
"Sarah," the girl said, adjusting her skewwhiff glasses.
"Sarah. Go on."
"Well, when I read what you write, I feel like you're writing to me. Like you're just my friend on the phone. How?" Sarah sat down and smoothed her ringletted hair with her hands.
"First of all, thank you so much for your support," Nate began. "I suppose I should tell you why I started writing. I was sitting at home one day and I didn't have anything to do. I looked around this beautiful house that my boyfriend had bought, and I realized that I had cleaned every single thing in it. Twice. It was like I was living in an OCD paradise. And I had all these wonderful things lying around and all these books that I had read cover to cover, and I was just really unsettled, and I didn't understand it. I had all the things that happy people are supposed to have, and I was miserable. And then I started to write.
"I started to write because I had a lot of question, and there were a lot of things I didn't understand about the world. I wrote because I wanted to make sense of my past, and I wanted to know there was a future somewhere. I wrote for myself, and so I think I was just really truthful. I was determined to find out answers and I was willing to let all the crappy parts out on the page. When you read my books, I'm being as honest as I know how to be; I'm letting all the crazy out. I don't hide when I write, because I don't have to. I don't conceal. And I want that for the people who read my work; I want them to find a little tiny puzzle piece, to find even one hundredth of an answer. So I think that's why people, I hope, respond to it—because it's real and sometimes that means that it's really painful." Nate gave an exaggerated inhale and the crowd laughed.
Nate answered question after question; about relationships, about the publishing process, about cooking and parenting and his life as a student. Someone asked what David was like as a teenager, which Nate answered carefully but with a lot of humor, and then what it had been like to grow up in the school. People asked him about Joshua, which he answered not quite truthfully for Bailey's benefit, and about whether or not he wanted to get married. He tried his best to be funny and comforting to those who were in the throes of teenage devastation, and then, after the quickest two hours of his life, Nate took the final question.