Zero (3 page)

Alan patted the pocket that held his
wallet as he thought of all the money spent for the few hours he would be at
the dance. All the money and all the trouble he would be in when he got home.

He drove carefully, making double
certain to follow all of the street signs. It was dark now and as Alan turned a
corner he saw the parking lot to his school. It was already full with the last
dance attendees making their way into the school’s large gymnasium.

Alan took a long breath as he pulled
into the school’s parking lot. More than one eye caught sight of the sleek
black car and stopped to see who would exit. He glanced at himself in the car’s
rearview mirror one more time.

You can do this. You can do this.
You can do this. It’s like pulling off a band-aid. Just get out of the car.

But he couldn’t. He wanted to so very
desperately, but fear had seeped in again. He looked through the car’s dark
tinted windows to the groups of students who had come to admire the vehicle.

“Ahhhhh… this is ridiculous. Get out
of the car, ALAN,” he had hoped by talking to himself out loud it would help,
but it didn’t.

Seconds ticked by, then minutes. Those
who had stopped to admire the car began to walk away. Confused looks crossed
over their faces as they headed for the gym doors and the music that could be
heard playing inside.

Chaperons walked the perimeter monitoring
against any underage drinking. Alan looked at one of the adults in particular
and was shocked to see Dr. Larson dressed in a modest black dress saying “hello”
to students as they passed by.

Dr. Larson only visited the school
once a week to meet with her patients. Since Alan’s high school had so many
students in need of psychiatric care, Dr. Larson had volunteered to make the
trip instead of making the students travel individually to her office in the
city. In return the school allowed her use of the receptionist and an office of
her own.

Before Alan could stop himself he
reached for the car handle and opened the door. He forced himself to step
outside. The night was cool and a breeze began to blow. Alan ignored all the
looks from his classmates. Instead he kept his eyes focused on the Doctor and
concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.

Dr. Larson looked at him and smiled.
Then she really looked at him and an expression of shock and realization
crossed her face. “Alan? Alan, is that you? You came!”

Alan may have been worried or offended
had it not been for the smile that crossed her face next. He beamed with pride
at her words.

“Yes—well—I thought about
what you said. About how I could actively do something and I decided to take
your advice.”

“Well, I’m so glad you did.”

Alan stood smiling, looking up at the
woman who he had met with once a week for the past few months. In a weird kind
of way she was his only friend, or at the very least the person who came
closest to being a friend. Music blared from inside the gymnasium, students ran
up the few steps eager to be inside but Alan thought he could stand and talk to
the Doctor for the rest of the night given the opportunity.

“Oh, where’s your boutonnière?”

“Who? Oh, I don’t have a date.”

The Doctor smiled, “No, the flower
that goes on your coat.”

Alan kicked himself mentally. It was
not only too late but he was out of money for a flower he could only guess
would be expensive. As more students passed inside Alan noticed all the male
attendees with bright colored blossoms matching their date’s attire.

“Oh—I—guess I forgot. I
don’t have one.”

Dr. Larson didn’t miss a beat.
Reaching over the short railing that ran parallel with the steps leading into
the gymnasium, the Doctor plucked a white rose from the decorative flower bush.
Producing a pin from her hair she motioned Alan forward.

“You see? If you are willing to take a
leap of faith, things will begin to work out.” She said this as she pressed the
flower to Alan jacket and placed the pin perfectly anchoring the rose on his
jacket.

Alan could feel the blood rush to his
face. The Doctor’s soft touch against his chest made him clear his throat and
swallow as if it were some kind of allergic reaction.

“There you go, Alan, you look great.”

“Thanks.”

“Well don’t start getting cold feet
now. You are doing so well. I’m proud of you, Alan. Now get inside and have
some fun.

The gymnasium was decorated from floor
to ceiling in yellow, green, blue and pink. Alan couldn’t help but think that
Dr. Seuss had been employed to make the event come to life. Despite his own
misgivings about the décor, everyone seemed to be having a great time. A live
band covered the latest hits on stage, there was a table set up with
refreshments, and balloons lay across the gym floor in every direction.

Alan stood by himself soaking in the
scene. It wasn’t something he had dwelt on for any length of time but once or
twice before he had wondered what a school dance looked like, now he knew.

“Hey, was that your car? The Benz?”

Alan had to stop from jumping as he
turned to see who had spoken to him. Her name was Amber Jacobson, she was Alan’s
own age and tonight she was wearing a short pink dress with a plunging
neckline.           

“Ummm… yeah well, it’s a borrow but I
drove it here.”

“Nice, car. You look familiar, do I
know you? Do you go to school here?”

Alan raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, I’m
Alan.”

Amber starred back at him with a blank
look.

“Alan Price. We’ve both gone to this
school since we were freshmen.”

No look of recognition passed across
the young blonde’s face. She shrugged as she waived to someone behind Alan. “Oh
okay. Well, cool car. I’m gonna go catch up with my friends but maybe we can
take a spin sometime or hangout later tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah okay.”

Amber was gone in the next few seconds
running in her high heels to catch up with a group of girls that may have well
been her clones.

Alan stood shocked. He hadn’t even
been to the dance for a full minute before
he
had been approached by a
girl for the very first time, ever.

Is this really how easy it was? Did
all you need not to be a nobody is expensive things and a haircut?

Alan kicked himself for not trying
anything like this before. For the first time in a very long while Alan felt
good, he felt great. In place of the depression and anger was a sense of
accomplishment. Even if the rest of the night turned out to be him sitting by
himself, he had done enough. That small exchange with Amber was more pleasant
socializing than he had done with anyone that entire month. And, she had
approached him.

Alan couldn’t help but smile as he
walked to the punch bowl and poured himself a glass of the red sugar water. He
wasn’t even thirsty but it seemed like the thing to do next. The drink touched
his lips and ran down his throat, making his taste buds pucker at its
sweetness.

The lights in the gymnasium were
dimmed with a classic disco ball sending tiny rays of light in every direction.
It was while he was getting ready to leave the refreshment table that he
noticed Jennifer Richardson and Brent Carson approaching with their clique of
cheerleaders and jocks.

In a heartbeat all the good feelings
and joy that Alan felt were gone. His hands started to sweat as the group
looked at him with a confused expression then stared open mouthed in his
direction. Brent was the first to speak. “Alan, is that you?”

Alan couldn’t bring his dry throat to
say a word so he nodded instead.

“Oh my gosh dude, what happened to
you?”

“I decided to come to the dance,” Alan
hated how his voiced squeaked out the response.  

“Yeah, I can see that. Who are you
here with?”

“Nobody.”

“Come on, Brent,” Jennifer said giving
Alan a look of surprise while leading her boyfriend away from Alan with a
gentle tug. “You said you were going to get me something to drink.”

“Yeah okay. I’m just tripping out on
this nerd right now. You realize you’re still a loser, Price. Fancy clothes and
a haircut wont change that. You know you’re nothing, you’re less than nothing.”

Alan will never know what came over
him in that moment. Maybe it was all the sugar in his punch. Maybe he was still
high on the feeling Amber gave him when she walked up to him and initiated a
conversation. Maybe it was all the years of ridicule and belittlement he had
endured. Whatever it was it pushed Alan over the edge. “You get off on making
fun of other people. I’m not sure why. Maybe you honestly think you are better
than everybody else. I think that maybe deep down inside you’re insecure. Does
it makes you feel better about yourself as a human being to degrade other
people?”

The entire group, including Alan stood
stunned. The band still played on in the background but all attention was on
Alan and Brent. A few students stopped to look, first stunned to see Alan Price
at the dance, next eager to see what the confrontation was about.

Brent’s face started to turn red. A
single vein bulged out of his neck ready to pop through his skin.

Alan didn’t remember the first fist
that hit him but he did feel the second, third and fourth as he regained
consciousness. Brent Carson was on top of him raining down blows to his head
and upper body. Alan did his best to shield his face but the blunt impact of
each blow was more than enough to penetrate whatever defense Alan could put
between him and his attacker.

Soon Brent’s buddies joined in sending
kicks that collided with Alan’s ribs and legs. Laughs, shouts and screams could
be heard over the noise now. Looking back, Alan would remember that night as a
haze, except for the part that came next.

The dance’s chaperones must have seen
or heard the commotion. In a few seconds, which seemed more like minutes to
Alan, Brent and his friends were backing away as Dr. Larson and a few other
adults made their way to Alan’s side.

“Enough! Get off of him now!” Dr.
Larson’s voice rang out strong and firm even making the band stop in the middle
of a song.

Alan was coughing, his face pressed
against the gymnasium’s cold wooden floor. His insides felt like a Spartan army
had trampled them. He struggled to sit up. As he gained a seated position he
looked up into Dr. Larson’s face and what seemed like the entire school.

If it was possible, Alan’s heart
dropped even further. Dr. Larson was by his side with a few other adults, all
wearing the same expression Tony did. An expression that said, “Yes they were
sorry for him but most of all they wished he could be different.” In their eyes
Alan saw it all; pity, disappointment and the wish that he could be something more
than helpless.

There was murmuring all around him but
one voice Alan caught through the crowd rung out the loudest in his ears. It
was Amber Jacobson. “I can’t believe I was going to let that zero take me out,
even if he does have a nice car. What a joke.”

Alan was brought back to the present
by Dr. Larson as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Alan? Alan, can you
hear me? Are you all right? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Alan struggled to his feet. Looking
down on the tuxedo that was supposed to change everything. The expensive fabric
was ripped, covered in punch and his own blood. “No, I’m fine.”

“Alan we should really get you checked
out. You’re bleeding. I think—“

“I said I’m fine!” He hadn’t meant to
yell but when he did a hush covered the gathered crowed. In every direction
Alan looked he saw the same expression, pity.

Alan had tried. He had done everything
now. He had hoped that he could overcome his depression. He had hoped so desperately
that he had done things that night that he never would have thought possible
before, and he had failed.

Blood still coming from his lip and
pain oozing out of a dozen different locations across his body, Alan walked
toward the front entrance. A path parted for him as dance attendees cleared
away from him like embarrassment and humiliation were contagious.

Alan reached the front entrance slamming
down on the metal bar that released him from the gymnasium and the nightmare he
just endured. It was cold. The wind had picked up and now threw gust after gust
at him reminding Alan of the blows he was subjected to only minutes before.

What did you think was going to
happen? You’re an idiot for thinking that anything would change. This is your
life. This is never going to get better.

Alan opened the car door, pressed the
ignition button and stomped on the gas. Pulling out of the school parking lot,
he could see Dr. Larson exiting the gymnasium. Her head was turning in every
direction searching for him. Better than anyone else she knew what he might do
next.

During their counseling sessions Alan
had been careful to never use the word “suicide” however he had brought up the
idea of freedom more than once. Not necessarily victory, but freedom from the
constant grinding battle to be normal, freedom from his depression, anger and
loneliness, for it all to be gone.

Alan sped out of the parking lot and
lost the Doctor’s image from sight. He knew what he had to do now. He knew what
he could do. Just like he had rationalized taking Tony’s car, he could
rationalize to himself now to take his own life. He had tried everything.

Alan made his way to the downtown
section just a few miles from the high school. His cell phone rang on and on in
his pocket before he pressed the button to silence it’s vibration’s permanently.

He didn’t even have to look to see who
it was. He knew Dr. Larson would be calling him. She would probably even call Tony
and the police if he didn’t answer. This didn’t bother Alan at all. He parked
in the structure that led to the tallest office building in the business
section of the city.

Suicide wasn’t a daily thought that
ran through Alan’s mind, still he thought about it enough to know that if the
time ever did come, a jump off a tall building would be the best way to go.

It was late and no one besides a
security guard was in the building’s brightly lit lobby. Alan walked across the
manicured lawn and decorative statues to the glass door. Without hesitation he
pulled open the door and walked through the immaculate lobby.

Alan was so far past the point of
caring he didn’t even give the security guard a second look as the large man
addressed him, “Hey, can I help you?”

When it was apparent that Alan wasn’t
going to stop the security guard stood up from his seat and spoke louder.

“Hey, you. You can’t go back there.”

Still Alan didn’t skip a beat. He
walked straight to the shining elevator doors. His right thumb made contact
with the button sporting an arrow pointing up. A short chime greeted him as
elevator doors slid immediately open.

Alan could hear the security guard’s
running footsteps on the tile as the man spoke into his walkie talkie. “Hey,
Bob, we got an intruder. He just entered elevator—“

That was all Alan caught as the doors
slid shut and he pressed another button directing him to the top floor. Elevator
music played in the background as the steel box ascended to the top floor. Alan
couldn’t help but notice the white rose the Doctor had provided that so closely
resembled his own state. The white petals were crumpled and wrinkled. Red slots
of blood scattered themselves around the flower like the disco lights at the
dance.  “Hang in there, little guy,” Alan said to the flower. “It’s almost
over.”