Being True (29 page)

I got angry. “What? No! Of course not.”

They placed the board on the ground next to Javi. “What’s his name?” The other asked as they stood at his head and his feet and then lifted him simultaneously onto the blue plastic.

“Javier Castillo,” I replied. They used the board to place him on the gurney before raising it and wheeling him toward the exit.

I trailed right behind them.

“Truman, we need to speak with you,” Ms. Garcia said. Mr. Valdez stood at her side. On their faces warred fear and anger. They were no doubt worried about a lawsuit.

“Not now,” I replied as I trotted past them. The paramedics had just exited the outer gym doors. They sure as hell weren’t leaving me behind. I was going with Javi.

Outside, chaos had erupted.

Most of the school had crowded the area. News traveled fast, and everyone had heard that something awful had happened. Upon seeing Javi being loaded into the ambulance, their mouths hung open as if in the middle of a silent scream. Some were taking pictures with their cell phone. No doubt those would wind up on Facebook in the next twenty seconds.

When they saw me emerge, everyone suddenly wanted to talk to me.

“Tru, what the hell happened?”

“Is he okay, Tru? Are you okay?”

“I heard he was shot. Who did it?”

“Did you see who did it, Tru?”

I ignored those questions and all the others they tossed my way. I didn’t have time to satisfy their morbid curiosity or decipher the loud buzz their collective voice had created. My boyfriend was about to be taken away. “Wait!” I screamed at the paramedic who had launched himself inside and was about to shut the door. “I’m coming with you.”

“Sorry,” the paramedic said.

“Fuck that!” I yelled. I ran to the door and held it open. The incessant drone of my classmates grew quiet. “I said I’m coming with you.”

“Listen, kid,” the paramedic said. His eyes locked onto mine and his lips stretched into a sympathetic smile. “You’re a minor, and unless you’re a blood relative, we can’t take you with us.”

“I’m his boyfriend,” I said. “I love him.” That made our relationship just as strong as the bond of family.

“We’re taking him to Christus downtown,” the paramedic said. “That’s the best I can do.” He shut the door. The lights atop the ambulance flashed and its siren wailed before taking off through the parking lot.

“I’ll take you,” a voice said at my side. “We can go now.” I turned to see Claudia. Her hand rested on my shoulder, and tears streamed down her face. She looked at my back and winced. “Are you okay?”

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell us what happened.”

It was Ms. Garcia. She had her arms crossed, and her bug eyes accused me of being the responsible party. Mr. Valdez, the principal, stood next to her, his cell phone in hand. Who had he called? The police or Javi’s parents?

“Holy shit! I need to tell the Castillos!” I turned to Claudia. “Can I use your cell phone?”

She nodded as she fished it out of her pocket, but Ms. Garcia placed her hand on Claudia’s arm. “We will handle that,” she said. “You need to come with us. Right. Now.”

That was when I saw Rance. He stood a few feet from the gathering of my strangely quiet classmates. Their mouths were still agape as if they’d just witnessed the most shocking event of their lives.

“You motherfucker!” I screamed before charging at Rance. I shoved him, and he fell on his ass, which elicited a collective gasp from most of the students who stood only a few feet away.

Rance didn’t attempt to fight back. Shoulders slumped, he hung his head in shame. Tears and snot streamed down his face. He was the picture of despair, but I didn’t care. He’d hurt Javi, and he had to pay.

But before I could strike him again, Coach Moore wrapped me in his steel arms and held me tight. Ms. Garcia rushed over to Rance to check on him.

“Are you okay?” she asked Rance.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked. I’d never experienced hate or anger this powerful in my life. Not toward any of the previous bullies that had tormented me in the past. Or even to that dipshit Bart.

This was different. Rance hadn’t hurt me.

He’d hurt the boy I loved.

That sent lava flowing through my blood. That made me want to rip every limb from Rance’s body and shove them down his throat.

“You want to know what happened. Ask Rance,” I said, fighting Coach Moore’s hold. “This is his fault.
He’s
the one who hurt Javi.”

Ms. Garcia stepped back, and the excited chatter my outburst had started among the other students fell silent once again. “Is that true, Rance?” she asked.

Rance covered his face with his hands. “It was an accident,” he said. “I never meant to hurt Javi.”

His admission caused an immediate uproar, and suddenly the administrators and faculty had their hands full trying to contain a mob of angry students. They surged toward where Rance blubbered like a baby, and even Coach Moore had to release me to try and contain the situation.

Claudia grabbed my wrist. “Let’s go,” she said with a nod toward the parking lot. “While they’re distracted.”

I didn’t need to hear anything else. Claudia and I dashed for her car, and ten seconds later, we were screeching out of the parking lot toward Javi.

I
STOOD
outside the automatic doors that led to the trauma area of the emergency room at Christus Santa Rosa. My wounds had already been cleaned and bandaged in the triage area. But I didn’t care about me. I cared about Javi. On the other side of that door, doctors and nurses rushed from one closed curtain to another, working on the patients whom I couldn’t see.

In there somewhere was Javi and his parents. They’d arrived twenty minutes after Claudia and I, and after I briefly told them what happened, they were escorted to the back. I hadn’t seen them since.

That had been almost two and a half hours ago. If I didn’t hear something soon, I was going to barge back there and get some answers.

“Why don’t you come sit down?” my mother asked. On our way to the hospital, I’d called her on Claudia’s phone after contacting the Castillos, who had been notified. They were already on their way. When I told my mother, she’d gasped. Since Dr. Torres’ office, where she now worked full-time, was only a few blocks away from the hospital, she’d run here as fast as she could. She hadn’t left my side once.

Her presence gave me the strength I needed not to break down, but it was a battle I’d ultimately lose. The tears gathered at the edges of my eyes and sobs lodged in my throat. I wasn’t going to give in just yet.

I had to be strong. For Javi.

My mom attempted a smile to lighten my spirits, but it faltered. We both knew that only one thing would make me better—news that Javi was okay. Short of that, I’d be strong and miserable until I heard any different.

“I can’t,” I finally replied. I looked through the small circular window in the door. If I sat down, I might miss seeing Javi. There was no way that was going to happen in this lifetime.

“Standing here won’t make time go faster,” she said.

“Neither will sitting over there. I’m staying put.”

She nodded and walked back to the row of plastic chairs, where Claudia sat in somber silence.

That was when all hell broke loose.

Almost the entire campus of Burbank High filed into the waiting room. Even some of the Jock Brigade, including Oscar, stood around the perimeter. They converged on the reception desk, asking questions about Javi. The annoyed receptionist gave them nothing.

“There’s Claudia,” Stephanie Gonzales said.

They headed toward Claudia like moths to a flame.

A sudden roar of questions thrummed inside the waiting area, which was quickly reaching maximum capacity as classmate after classmate poured through the automatic doors.

One of the nurses stormed over, saying they had to leave.

“We’re not going anywhere,” the senior class president said. “We’re here for Javi.”

“You tell her, Enrique,” Selina Perez said at his right. The others in the group echoed their collective commitment to stay and wait on their friend.

Normally such concern would touch my heart. After all, seeing so many people here in support of Javi spoke volumes about the boy he was and how he had touched the hearts and lives of so many.

But at the same time, their worry fed the fire of rage seeing Rance outside the gym had sparked. Where had their concern been the past few weeks? Many of them hadn’t even been on speaking terms with Javi after the rumor mill switched into high gear.

They had abandoned him. They didn’t deserve to be here. They needed to go.

“All right, that’s enough!” I screamed loud enough to be heard over the chaos.

Everyone turned to stare at me, dressed in my blood-stained jeans and a green hospital shirt. Normally, I hated being the center of attention. When all eyes were on me, that usually meant I was being pushed around or on the floor covering my head from the fists that flailed against me. But right now all that mattered was that these fair-weather friends got the hell out of my sight.

“Who the fuck do you think you traitors are?”

“Tru!” my mother gasped. She rose and hurried over to my side. She’d never seen me this upset or this confrontational, but that was who I was now.

I was a new Tru, and I wasn’t going to be silent any longer.

I’d finally found my voice in the love I discovered in Javi.

“You all suck,” I said. I locked eyes with each and every one. None of them would escape my wrath, not even the Jock Brigade. They had to understand what they had done, and it was up to me to teach them that lesson. “Javi was a friend to each and every one of you, and you turned your backs on him. And why? Because you heard he might be gay. Yeah, well, so fucking what? He is and so the hell am I. That doesn’t change him from the guy you all claimed to love so much. The same one who was always nice to you. Who smiled at you every day with that beautiful half grin. Who made you feel as if you were the most special person in the world.”

My voice quavered. My mother’s hands rested on my shoulders, and Claudia joined her on my other side. They were my bookends of support and the strength I needed to finish what I had started. “That’s what Javi did for me. Before him, I didn’t think I was worth anything. Most of you sure as hell reminded me of that every day of my miserable life. But from the moment he met me, Javi didn’t see the loser that you saw. He saw me, Truman Cobbler. And it was that friendship, that loving heart that made me fall so madly in love with him.”

Many of them had heard me announce we were boyfriends back at school. Only a few gawked in surprise at the revelation. “So go ahead and hate me. Hate us. But don’t pretend you don’t. Be true to the disgusting pieces of shit you are and embrace it. Own it. And don’t stand there pretending you care about Javi, or me for that matter, all of a sudden. Because it’s just more bullshit. You know it. I know it.”

I cleared my throat and took a step forward. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

“Tru,” someone said behind me. I spun around. It was Mrs. Castillo. Her eyes were red and swollen. “I’ll take you back now.”

I took her hand, and she led me through the doors.

W
HEN
I
saw Javi lying on the hospital bed, I almost broke down. I swallowed hard, took five deep breaths, and crossed over to where he rested. An orange contraption surrounded his head, keeping it immobilized. Fresh bandages had been draped across the wound on the side of his head, and nasal airway tubes sat on his upper lip, feeding him oxygen.

At least it wasn’t a breathing tube. I took that as a good sign.

“Is he going to be okay?” I asked Mr. Castillo, who stood on the other side of the bed. His tanned face was pale with agony.

“The doctors are optimistic,” he answered. His voice was barely a whisper, but the Castillo hope still reverberated in his words. “They managed to stop the bleeding, and the CT scans show no dangerous brain swelling at the moment. We’ll know more when he wakes up.”

“He hasn’t woken up at all?” I asked. His mother stood at my side and placed her hand in mine.

“Not yet, but he’s a strong boy,” she said. A sob choked her words. “He will be fine. I know it.”

I nodded. He would be fine. There wasn’t any other option as far as I was concerned.

“I’m proud of you, Tru,” Mrs. Castillo said.

Her words took me by surprise. I had no clue why on earth she said that. It was because of me that her son was lying there unconscious. “Why?”

“I heard what you said in the waiting room.” Tears leaked from her eyes as she squeezed my hand tight. “You stood up not only for yourself, but for my Javi.”

Mr. Castillo smiled. He was impressed. “Did you now?”

“I had to,” I said. “Javi has had my back for so long, it was the least I could do for him. Seeing them there, pretending to be concerned, when they’d been so cruel to him, made me so mad.” I swallowed hard. The dam I’d held back was about to burst. “But not as mad as I am at myself.”

“Why are you angry at yourself?” Mr. Castillo asked.

Fat tears slid down my cheeks as I looked back and forth between Javi’s parents. “It’s my fault he’s here. He was trying to protect me when it happened. When he got hurt.” I averted my gaze from theirs. I couldn’t look them in the eyes as I admitted my guilt. “If I’d never transferred to Burbank, we’d never have met. And Javi wouldn’t have gone through everything he has. He’d be out there playing baseball or whistling to the birds he loves so much. He wouldn’t be lying in here hurt, hooked up to all these tubes and machines. He’d be safe.”

And that was it. The fear and guilt I’d locked inside since I’d first seen Javi bloody on the floor crashed out of me. I fell apart in broken sobs, which racked my body. The horror of the last few hours took control, and the poison it had brought expelled itself as tears crashed onto the floor.

Mrs. Castillo held me to her chest as I let it out. She smoothed my hair and rocked me back and forth, and I clutched onto her for dear life. Mr. Castillo was suddenly behind me. His hands rested on my shoulders while he rubbed them.