Fall Apart (36 page)

Damon hadn’t quite decided what he wanted to do with himself yet. He was fighting shame, sometimes on a minute-to-minute basis, and it was difficult to accept positive emotions might be okay. Self-condemnation was addictive; he didn’t think people who’d been through similar circumstances were honest about that.

Each night when he got into bed and closed his eyes, he still saw Todd falling; he heard Todd’s yell, and then the horror of silence. Even during the day, in the middle of a mindless task, he’d occasionally find his mind wandering to that terrible scene. His eyes would go out of focus and it would take someone calling out to him, or another distraction, to bring him back to the present.

He was getting to the point where he knew he probably needed to talk to someone or risk going crazy from the mess raging within. And the thought of climbing… It made him break into a sweat. Something told him that probably wasn’t a “healthy” sign.

As he fiddled with speaker wires and mulled over life, an idea came to him that maybe wouldn’t make sense in the traditional field of psychological study, but it made sense to him. It wasn’t a good time to dwell on it, but he set it aside to think about later.

The bell over the front door rang and he dropped the handful of wires impatiently. “I’m going to get absolutely nothing accomplished today.” He took the steps down the ladder very slowly, his body still a stiff, healing mess, and shuffled around boxes to the counter.

Luke and Franco were waiting for him. Damon watched Franco flip the sign to “Closed” and turn off the light on the neon sign. Then, they all just sorta stared at each other for a minute. Luke cleared his throat. Franco jangled the change in his pocket.

I feel an intervention coming on.

“Fellas,” he finally broke the silence.

They nodded at him and the awkward silence continued. It seemed like it could go on for hours. Just staring while listening to music over crappy speakers.

“You guys need something? Running shoes? Skis? ‘Cause if not, I’ve got some other stuff to do that’s a little more pressing than, you know, watching you watch me.”

“See,” Luke snapped. “This is what I expected: the brushoff.” Franco gave a nervous nod—one that said Luke was the ringleader behind this visit, but he was there as part of a united front.
Free Damon!
and all that nonsense.

Miss me, but don’t be a dick about it…
Todd’s words from the letter came back to his mind and he almost said, “Okay, okay,” aloud.

He opened his mouth to try and smooth things over, but Luke beat him to the punch. “Just keep your mouth shut for a minute. Most of what you say lately isn’t all that pleasant.”

Alright. That was fair. He leaned his good arm on the counter and waited, chastised, but a little pissed about it. He hated knowing he was wrong.

“I’ve known you forever, Day, so it’s been pretty excruciating watching how everything with Todd has affected you. I know I probably can’t understand all the stuff you’re going through, and I’ve got my own issues about not being there that day, but I don’t know…” Luke’s eyes were on a shoe display, but they were out of focus, lost in his thoughts. “It’s like you’ve forgotten about everyone else who loves you so that you can beat yourself down.”

Franco stepped to Luke’s side, his hand still jangling that change in his pocket. “If you think what happened that day is really your fault; if you think that telling us would force us to agree, then prove it. Tell me and Luke every single thing that happened and let us decide for ourselves.”

Luke’s head jerked around toward Franco and his mouth dropped open. Clearly, this was not a part of the plan decided on in the car on the way over. Damon’s breathing quickened and he went pale. A cold sweat was beginning on his lower back and his stomach churned. He was a biological wonderland just then. He wished he could run. He wished the store would spontaneously combust so they wouldn’t have to talk about this right now. Or ever. His earlier conclusion that he should share his thoughts and fears suddenly seemed premature. And wrong. Very, very stupid and wrong.

“No, man,” Franco stopped Luke’s protest. “Let’s not talk about anything else. He thinks we believe he’s responsible. He’s pushing us away because he thinks we’ve already passed judgment. Since that’s what this is, I say, shit, it’s only fair that we get to have an actual choice.” Turning back to Damon, he cocked his chin up in challenge. “Let ‘er rip, buddy. Prove it’s your fault.”

Damon stared at Franco for several seconds and that anger he thought had been receding over the past couple weeks found new meat to feed on and roared to the surface. “I rushed the time. I practically
dared
Todd to go too fast, in poor conditions, without a safety rope. It’s a miracle I had the presence of mind to remember helmets—fat fucking lot of good it did Todd when he fell past me from thirty five feet!”

Damon’s chest was pulsing in quick bursts as he lashed out, his new way of breathing since he’d broken his ribs. He didn’t know why, but he wanted the guys to yell back at him. He wanted them to shout that he was a horrible piece of rotten shit, a worthless human, and when they didn’t, he was dazed. Where were the accusations and appalled scowls? Why weren’t they attacking him? Punishing him?

Franco’s eyes were wet, but he shrugged like the words Damon hollered at him were exactly what he expected. He glanced at Luke. “You convinced?”

Slowly, purposefully, Luke shook his head. “No… I’m not.”

“Better start at the beginning, Damon,” Franco ordered. “We’re not buying it.”

As fast as the anger leapt to his rescue, it dissipated, leaving him with the gut-wrenching sorrow. He staggered backward to the stool behind the counter and collapsed onto it, an old sack of bones. His eyes filled with tears and no amount of embarrassment could keep them at bay.

Eventually, Damon began talking. Not about the climb or safety, but about Todd coming to his house beforehand, about Simone, and about the happiness he’d heard in their friend’s voice. Franco and Luke ended up leaning on the counter, listening to every word he said and letting them all sink in.

When he got to the part about the climb, he told them everything, sparing not a word in his defense. He told it as though it was a witness’ testimony. His throat threatened to close as he spoke of the fall in hideous detail, but he forged through it, lifting his good arm to show the scars from his shoulder to the back of his hand. Luke was wiping his tears from his face and Franco was biting on his lip to hold back his emotion.

Damon told them how he didn’t remember anything but quick flashes of activity—maybe something from the medevac—until he woke for good at the hospital. The rest they knew from their own memories. He didn’t want to share about his time in Todd’s room. That was a sacred place in his soul. It was Todd’s grave marker.

“I let him down that day, guys,” he breathed in pain. “I could’ve done so many things differently, but I didn’t. He’s gone now, and that’s on me.”

When he looked up, Franco and Luke were gazing at him, expressions awash in their reaction to his words. “I’m not convinced,” Franco whispered. “I’ll never be.”

“Why don’t you guys hate me? Todd’s gone and I—”

“Stop it,” Luke said sternly. “Don’t ever say it again. It’s
not
your fault.”

Franco came at him first, then Luke, and their arms surrounded him. Their words unlocked something in Damon that he was scared to set free. Franco pulled away first, swiping a hand over his face, then stared directly into his eyes.

“If Todd were here, he’d tell you the same thing.”

All Damon knew was that he wasn’t strong enough to deal anymore. He didn’t have the energy to fight them.

It was two weeks until Christmas and only one before Alarik was supposed to show up on Zane’s doorstep for the trip to Tahoe. He really wanted to be excited about it, but honestly, he didn’t want to go. There wasn’t word from Damon yet. Each day it was getting easier to agree with Max, but Alarik wasn’t ready to admit it was over. When he woke up, his first thoughts were all about Damon. He was restless to see him and be there for him. Living this way was taking its toll.

After everyone returned to set from the short Thanksgiving break, the air between Alarik and Max had been a little chilly. Over time, it would warm; they were simply trying to navigate friendship gracefully. Max was mature and a professional boss; it just so happened that he also had bruised feelings under that distant mien.

Alarik was home, editing photos he’d taken earlier in the week, when his email chirped and his phone gave a simultaneous
buzz
. With his attention focused on the photo on one screen, it took him several seconds to make sense of what he was seeing on the other where his email account was open. It was a message from Damon.

The instant what he was seeing made sense, Alarik scrambled to the other side of his desk, nearly spilling tea all over his workspace, and banging his knee on a table leg. His hand shook as he clicked to open the message with the subject line:
Re: You there?
His eyes widened as he began to read.

Alarik,

I know you may not believe me, but this is the first time I’ve opened my email since everything happened. I didn’t think I’d see anything from you—I don’t deserve to.

I read every single word you sent. I couldn’t believe you wrote to me at all after what I said and did to you. I’ve been spending a lot of time apologizing lately and you deserve one most of all. Even the thought of how I spoke to you and the way I hurt you makes me sick. It took me this long to accept that other people were experiencing their own grief at the same time I was because mine overwhelmed me. I wouldn’t be telling the truth if I said it doesn’t continue to overwhelm me from time to time, but I’m doing my best to work through this. I hurt you and I’m sorry.

I’m not trying to be noble. I’m trying to be honest. You are a better man than I deserve, Alarik. You’ve proven that with each word that you wrote since I forced you away, and before that in how you treated me. I’m not sure what you saw in me; your open honesty still amazes me. I don’t feel right asking you back, so I’m not going to do that. There’s still a lot of work I have to do to be closer to the guy you say you love.

It seems like I’m asking you to wait for me, but that’s not fair and I wouldn’t do that to you. Maybe when things are a little more stable, I’ll be able to find you again and you’ll give me another chance. No matter what, though, you deserve better than I can offer you now.

Love,

Damon

Alarik rolled away from the desk and hid his face in his hands.
That’s it? That’s all I get?

“Damon…you fool. I want you
now
; I don’t bloody want anyone else. Don’t you get that? Weren’t my words
clear
?” He went back and read the email three more times from start to finish, searching for any hidden meanings or messages written between the lines, like,
I really mean that you should come to me immediately.

Frustration boiled within him—the words didn’t change. There was no hidden request. Damon was ending what they had.

In truth, Alarik was afraid to go against what Damon wrote and simply drive to Ventura so they could talk face-to-face. He was afraid to see what was in the other man’s eyes, afraid to see the hardened, hurting man that he loved. There wasn’t a way around the fact that this email was goodbye.

I’m in love with a man who
won’t
let me love him, he thought. Realizing Max felt the same way about him made Alarik choke.

“This is so fucked up,” he said.

***

The high school parking lot was empty when Damon pulled in and parked Todd’s—actually
his
—car in the same space he used to park when he was a student. Things looked almost exactly the same, except the landscaping was updated and better maintained. Damon looked to the right and found the tree Todd used to park under, resting his chin in his hand as he remembered.

He was finally putting the idea he’d had at the store into practice. Talking to other people about everything he was feeling wasn’t easy for him. He’d broken down with Luke and Franco, and finally, he sat with his parents to tell them everything. Talking about it the first time was hardest. The guilt and shame were almost impossible to leave behind. It would take a lot of conversations, a lot of purposeful attention to the most vulnerable parts of his being, to feel free of these crippling emotions. He was counting on his family and friends to help him—though at the same time, he struggled bringing so much pain to them.

Maybe the world’s leading psychologists would say he was doing the wrong thing, but he figured that if Todd was the one guy he wanted to talk to most of all, then he’d talk to
him
. Even if whatever spiritual realm Todd was in made Damon impossible to hear. Or, if the afterlife was all horse shit. Here on Earth, there was still a lifetime of mindless crap he wanted to tell his friend and he hoped saying some of it aloud, like Todd was listening, would help.

He was keeping their friendship alive in the only way he could.

“Todd,” Damon said quietly and immediately rolled his eyes, feeling stupid. “This seems dumb. I know it, but since you’re not here to tell me that aloud, you’ll just have to accept that I already get it. I’m here because…” He paused and thought for a minute, wondering about the right way to say what was on his mind. “I’m talking to you because you died and left a giant fucking crater in my world and nothing else I’ve tried makes losing you less catastrophic.

“I’m probably always going to think that I could have done something to save you. And there’ll always be this little whisper in my head that says this was all my fault. I know you’re not coming back, but I still look for you, buddy.”

Damon glanced around the grounds of the high school again and concentrated on his breathing. “You used to park over there, driving that sweet car your dad bought you, which you pretended was just okay because you didn’t want to say anything good about your dad. You hated all lawyers on principle because of him and nearly disowned Luke when he became one.