One Voice 02 - Here Without You (14 page)

W
E
TOOK
Nate to breakfast at the student cafeteria, where we met up with Anna and Claire. Nate seemed to be more relaxed in their presence than last time, and I was also becoming more and more relaxed with them. They didn’t seem like “regular” young women, or at all like the stereotype I had developed of them during my years at Benjamin Franklin High School. They were more like real people to me, like my mom, my sisters, and Nate’s sister, Cindy, when she was on good behavior.

“Nate, I was thinking about you the other day when I saw this amazing mixed-breed puppy—lab and golden retriever, I think. A student was walking her in the quad.” Claire seemed eager to talk to Nate.

“And let me tell you, Claire was all over that puppy as soon as the owner said it was okay to pat her. I couldn’t separate her from little Beyoncé for maybe thirty minutes,” Anna chimed in.

“Beyoncé? The student named the dog Beyoncé?” I had to laugh and wonder what the
real
Beyoncé would think of that.

“Yeah,” Claire replied. “The dog’s owner is a big fan.”

We all ate our bacon, egg, and cheese bagel sandwiches, which were on special, and talked about puppies, movies, and favorite flavors of ice cream. Nothing heavy, and that was just perfect.

“So, how long are you staying? Monday’s a holiday, but Tuesday is One Voice’s big event—the National Coming Out Day rally in the quad. Is there any way you can stay for it?” Claire seemed to really like Nate.

But at her question, Nate’s eyes got wide, and he immediately shook his head. “Uh… no. That ain’t a possibility.”

“Why not? Do you have to work?”

Nate had already informed Zander and me that he didn’t have to work until Tuesday night, but still he nodded.

“Can’t you call in sick?” Claire apparently had a persistent side.

So I stepped in to rescue him. “He can’t miss a single day of work. They give him most weekends off, so they expect him to have excellent attendance on weekdays.”

Claire nodded sympathetically, but none of us missed the way Zander hung his head in apparent disappointment. And I didn’t miss that Nate stared at him, taking in Zander’s crestfallen posture.

“There will be other events I’m sure you’ll be able to attend,” Anna offered by way of consolation.

Zander kept his eyes fixed on the floor, and Nate kept his eyes fixed on Zander.

“Um… these bagel sandwiches sure are good. How about if we go get you another one, Nate? You’re so big—you must need two.” Claire stood up and snagged Nate by the sleeve. “Come on.” She dragged him toward the service counter, in an effort to snap him out of his unhappy trance.

I reached for Zander and squeezed his knee. I didn’t need to say that Nate would stay here for the rally if he could. We both knew it.

He lifted his shoulders and said in a low tone, “Yeah, I know.” Then he got up and headed to the men’s room.

Anna looked squarely at me. “There’s more going on here than Claire and I are aware of, hmm?”

“Yes, that’s true,” I admitted, wanting to share it with her but not sure if it would be okay with Nate.

“Well, if we can help in any way, at any time, just let us know.” She leaned over and squeezed my knee in much the same way I had squeezed Zander’s. It was the first time a girl this age had touched me since the beating I had taken at the hands of the high school bully, Liz Trainer. And I hadn’t recoiled or made an excuse to follow Zander to the bathroom. In fact, my reaction had been quite the opposite. I covered her hand with mine.

“Thank you, Anna. You and Claire are quite wonderful friends.”

And I meant it.

14

N
ATE
’
S
D
IARY

October 9

B
ROUGHT
MY
journal along this weekend. What the fuck is with that, eh? It’s like I’m so used to writin’ shit down when I’m tryin’ to deal with it that I sort of
need
this notebook. Casey says that writin’ is how I absorb the shit that’s goin’ down in my life. He calls it “processing my thoughts.” Guess he’s right.

Anyhow it’s Sunday night and we just got done with eatin’ some pretty stellar pizza we got delivered to their dorm room. And it ain’t no rumor—college kids put down a lot of that shit. Now we’re gonna head over to the One Voice meetin’. Worst part of that is I’m havin a friggin’ ton of back and forth thoughts about leavin’ on Monday and missin’ Zander’s big day on Tuesday. I know he gets why I gotta go home, but I also know he’s disappointed as hell that I ain’t gonna be there. Shit. Nobody never wanted me to be at their special day in my whole entire life, and here’s this dude who won’t enjoy his big moment as much if yours truly ain’t there. And I’m skippin’ out on him.

Before the pizza came, I texted Cindy to see if she could stay one more night at her friend’s house. That was a big no-can-do. Her friend’s mom was like, “That girl’s leavin’ Monday afternoon cuz we gotta go food shoppin’ and pick up Grandpa at the airport and blah, blah, blah.” Me and Cindy got the picture nice and clear. So it looks like I’m gonna have to split on Monday by lunchtime, which was gonna just about kill me to do. So much that I’m sittin’ in my car, scribblin’ in my notebook about how fuckin’ ruined I am when I think of ditchin’ Zander on his big day.

I fuckin’ love these guys so much it nearly hurts. Never felt half this much for nobody in my life, ’cept for maybe Cindy. I’m in heaven when I’m here with ’em. Fit in here like nowhere else. It’s gettin’ harder and harder to leave each week after I see ’em. Add to that, disappointin’ my boy, Zander. I gotta figure somethin’ out. Gotta find a way to stay.

Don’t think nothin’ is worth hurtin’ Zander for.

[email protected]

Bro—

I need your help. Or maybe I just want you to listen to me. Whatever the case, I’ve gotta get in touch with you because the shit totally hit the fan yesterday. It’s fucked-up, and
it’s my fault
. Dan, I got Nate to stay overnight on Monday. He knew he shouldn’t have, but I made him feel guilty for abandoning me when I “needed him” most.

So, shit. He stayed. Nate stayed
for me
. And on Tuesday afternoon, he gets this call from his aunt. She said Nate’s little sister is in some hospital in Central NH and Nate had better get his ass home. Nate’s uncle finally did it, man. He beat the shit out of Cindy, Nate’s fourteen-year-old sister.

One fucking night
. For one fucking night, Nate left them alone. And that dude couldn’t keep his paws off her. All Nate could tell us was what his aunt told him—that Cindy said Rich tried to choke her to death.

Need you now, man. So bad.

No more One Voice Blog, in case you’re wondering. Priorities.

Z

[email protected]

Danny—

Thanks for trying to call me. Sorry I missed it. Shit is just crazy around here. I tried to get you back a few minutes ago, but you must be in your evening class now. Listen, dude, we can’t reach Nate. He took off from here today at like 3:30 p.m., after the call from his aunt, saying, “Gotta head out.” He was acting like somebody lit a fire under his ass. Now it’s seven, and he hasn’t answered our calls or texts. I know he’s at the hospital and is occupied with other shit, but he must know we’re trying to reach him.

Casey is
losing it
. As in, completely. First of all, I know the whole idea of somebody being beat up so badly that they have to be hospitalized brings back memories of the assault on him during junior year, because that’s pretty much exactly what happened to him. Second, I think he feels partly responsible for what happened to Cindy because he never told his parents about the violence that was going on in Nate and Cindy’s home. But Nate had begged him not to. He always told us “I got this.” And we knew he didn’t “got” nothing, but we never called him on it, even though we saw his black eyes and the swollen lips and all the bruises. And third, Casey is freaking panicking because Nate won’t answer the phone or texts. Shit, we even tried to e-mail him but haven’t heard a word.

We wanna be beside Nate in the hospital, but it’d be fucked up just to show up there without talking to him. Not even sure which hospital, at this point.

We don’t have his aunt’s number either.

This situation is so fucking screwed up.

Need help.

Z

[email protected]

Dan—

Thanks for calling. Hearing your voice was super essential. And for the record, I don’t give a crap that you called after midnight. It’s not like Casey and I were sleeping or anything. We’re still waiting for a call from Nate.

A call that I’m beginning to doubt is gonna come. At least any time soon.

This shit is so royally fucked up.

I keep questioning myself and my role in this whole pile of stinking crap. Nate was gonna leave Monday afternoon, and I started acting all sulky and silent. On purpose, dude. Like a spoiled fucking brat. I was trying to let him know that I wasn’t happy about him taking off on me at One Voice’s biggest moment so far at BCC.

It’s because of all the shit that went down with Casey in high school that my eyes were opened. I just got committed to the fact that people ought to be able to be who they are—to love who they love—without fear of harsh judgment or physical violence. Coming Out Day meant something major to me. It
means
something to me still. But guilt-tripping Nate into sticking around may be something that none of us can ever forgive me for.

To make me happy, Nate said he’d stay. He called Cindy, and I could hear him tell her to steer clear of Uncle Rich. He said that after school she should just go to her bedroom and stay there ’til he got home from Boston, which would be just after dinnertime, and that he’d check on her and feed her before he went to work. And then he hung up and tried to put on a happy face for me and Casey, but I could tell he was worried as all hell.

On Monday night, the three of us managed to push all bad thoughts aside. We made love for pretty much half the night. After he made love to me the last time, Nate held me for like an hour. Casey had dropped off to sleep before we’d had a chance to put him between us like we always did.

As he was holding me, he said, “Sorry, man. Sorry that I was
gonna
leave ya. Didn’t wanna miss Coming Out Day and bein’ there for ya, but sometimes I feel like I am gettin’ pulled in all different directions.”

And like a fucking clueless douchebag, I said, “You’re forgiven. No harm done.” Or something along those lines. Then we kind of rolled Casey in between us, snuggled up to him, and drifted off to sleep with fucking satisfied grins on our lips.

I feel like a total piece of shit. Lowly as hell.

Dude, I put my precious One Voice rally before the very safety of Nate’s sister.

Don’t know if Nate will ever forgive me for that.

Don’t know if Casey will forgive me either.

Fuck, man, I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for what I’ve done.

Later—

Z

15

C
ASEY
’
S
REAL
LIFE

F
INALLY
I
called my parents last night and told them about it. All of it. I told them about the abuse that has been going on at Nate’s house and that I’d known about it ever since I met him. I told them how Nate had assured us he had everything under control, and I’d just let myself believe him because the alternative was unknown, and because of that, too difficult.

My parents were definitely disappointed in me. I think it’s going to take a while for them to understand why I kept my mouth shut about Nate and Cindy’s suffering. For that matter, it’s going to take some time for
me
to figure out why I never stepped forward and said, “No more, Nate. This is wrong.”

Mom and Dad told me they would try to confirm which hospital Cindy is in. They also said they would check on Nate and find out if his uncle had been arrested, as it was a matter of public record. I told them I wanted to come home from school and look for Nate myself, but they said there was nothing I could do. If Nate was ready to see us, he would have called us back. He clearly hadn’t sufficiently worked through his pain and guilt. I knew they were right.

Ultimately if Nate wanted to talk to us, he knew our number. He knew he could call any hour of the day or night and we’d jump to help him. He just didn’t want to talk to us.

Nate did not want contact with Zander and me.

Which was a bitter pill to swallow.

Lying in my twin bed, I turned my head and gazed across the room at Zander. He was stretched out, covered in blankets, flat on his back in his tiny twin bed. I could tell he wasn’t sleeping, just from the way his chest lifted and fell. And his staggered breathing told me he was agitated too. But I couldn’t reach out to him. The pain was too fresh. The uncertainty was too looming.

For the first time in years, I dreaded the next day.

[email protected]

Dan—

Just read an article in the newspaper that said New Hampshire resident Richard J. DeMarco has been arrested for second degree assault and has not been released on bail. They didn’t mention Cindy’s name, probably because she’s a minor. So I don’t know much, but at least I know the asshole’s in jail, where he belongs.

It’s been three days, and still no word from Nate. Me and Casey haven’t given up on calling and texting him. We’ve been leaving him long messages about how much we love him.

Mr. and Mrs. Minton tried to find out how Cindy’s doing, but they haven’t had much luck with the local hospitals. It’s all confidential info, and the hospitals mean business when they say that. At least Casey and I know Nate is
alive
, because Mr. Minton stopped by Nate’s house, and he was getting into his truck to go to work. Casey’s dad told us that he hopped out of the car and went to the truck to talk to Nate. Nate wouldn’t allow himself to be drawn into conversation. He wouldn’t even look Mr. Minton in the eyes.