Haunt Me (Heartbreaker Duet #2)

twenty-three

The next part does not happen fast.

It all takes place within the space of a few weeks—and it is a lot to happen within a few weeks, so everyone afterwards will say that everything happened so fast. So fast. But for me, it goes agonizingly slow. Every single minute of it is torture. And the whole world is the audience.

A lot of people witness what happens next; especially the last part of it. The whole world witnesses it, clutching the armrests of their seats in front of their TVs. But no one knows the truth, except for me and Eden.

Well, even that’s not true: I don’t know Eden’s part.

And she doesn’t know mine.

…

The principal calls me to his office early the next morning, before breakfast. I was running a fever during the night, but I was in so much pain I couldn’t even get out of bed to go to the nurse for medication.

I drag my bones down to that huge, dark office, and the principal coughs and clears his throat for ten minutes straight, before finally coming out with it. He says that the school received complaints for harassment of a minor. The person or persons mentioned me by name.

I nearly jump up from my chair.

“Excuse me?” I feel light-headed. Maybe this is a different nightmare. Or maybe I’m still inside yesterday’s nightmare. I know nightmares; this feels like one, for sure.

“This is quite a serious accusation against you as a student, and against this school, Isaiah,” he says.

“What exactly is the accusation, sir? Who made it? ”

He looks at me and sighs, deeply. His color is a little off too. I lean my head down, placing my elbows on my knees, so that I won’t faint. I think he is sweating.

He fumbles for the right words, but eventually the whole sordid tale comes out. Apparently, a ‘very important patron of this establishment’ (he means the school) has filed what they call ‘severe accusations’ of a sexual nature. They are taking legal action against me personally, and against the school. And the principal himself.

“They are taking us to court, Isaiah,” he says.

What the hell? What does that even mean?

“What…” I clear my throat. “What exactly did they say I did.”

He can’t meet my eyes. He knows it’s not true, but he has to say it.

Finally, it comes out: I supposedly attacked or harassed someone. A girl. A very young girl, sixteen years old. The principal is so embarrassed and scared, he keeps talking, but I can’t make out what he’s saying, because he is hiding behind obscure legal jargon and endless beating around the bush.

“Who says I did that? And to whom ?”

He can’t name them.

I keep asking questions, and keep getting no answers.

The principal apologizes profusely, but, apparently, there is already a lawsuit filed. It’s all very ugly and very public. And there are millions involved, which is why everyone is keeping their mouths shut and not explaining anything to me.

Not defending me.

They get my grandfather to come down from Boston urgently, and once he gets here, the school expels me within two days.

…

“I know it’s not true, Isaiah, I know they’re lying.” Grandpa’s voice is shaking.

I can’t talk to him. I can barely look him in the eye. I am numb, in disbelief.

“Everyone knows it’s lies,” he continues. “Everyone who knows you, or has even seen you. Even that dumb principal knows, and he is lying through his teeth. Stay strong, my boy, it will blow over soon. No one can touch you, do you hear me?”

He is holding me by the shoulders so I don’t fall on a heap on the floor. We’re back in Boston, at my empty house. Mom is flying home from New York tomorrow. James hasn’t been told what’s happened yet.

“Look at me, Zay,” Grandpa says, shaking me. “Let me see that you’re ok. We’ll beat this thing.”

I can’t reply. I just listen, and when he stops talking, I go to my room.

Where are you , Eden? My mind screams as I try for the millionth time to call her. My hands are shaking so badly, I nearly drop the phone twice.

‘The number you are trying to reach does not exist.’

No! Eden, where are you?

Eden! Help. Help me, please!

Save me, dammit!

But she doesn’t save me. No one does.

The next day, they talk about me in the local news—they even divulge my first name, but not my last. Technically, they could—I am no longer a minor. That’s the last time I watch, listen to or read the news. Ever, in my life. I just stop looking at it. Completely.

My brother comes home from Julliard, looking gaunt and haunted. He takes one look at me and swallows down whatever he was going to say. I guess he wanted to say something stupid like ‘it’s going to be ok’. But it’s not. And he can’t say it—it’s gotten too horrible. In the end, he says nothing.

Both Yale and Harvard withdraw their acceptance.

We just stay inside the house, Mom, Grandpa, James and me, and wait for a bunch of lawyers or the police to show up and drag me to court. The principal made it sound that serious. The colleges too.

The phone calls we’ve been getting. We hide and we wait. Grandpa contacts our family lawyer, and he stays with us on the phone twenty-four seven.

But nothing happens. No one contacts us. No one follows up.

I don’t hear anything about the news mentioning me again either, but by now I’ve stopped watching and I have zero interest in asking James if I am still a ‘story’. Time stands still. We exist in limbo for two days. Nothing happens. It’s as if I am a ghost, my name deleted from the school and from the colleges I was supposed to attend.

From Eden’s phone .

From the news.

My existence erased.

No one is coming after me, but no one is coming to save me either.

What do I do now?

I have nothing to run from, but nothing to run to either? Confusion, anger and inaction don’t mix very well. I feel as if something big is coming, something even worse. But what could be worse?

My heart is broken, my future stolen, my family destroyed. My sanity is hanging by a thread. I can’t even begin to understand what is happening and why. Why? Why why why?

WHERE IS EDEN?

Eden, please, pick up the phone, baby. Please.

‘The number you are trying to reach does not exist.’

Nothing makes any sense.

I stay awake all night; my brother’s muffled sobs echo from the next room. In the morning, I go to wake up Grandpa. The minute I walk into his room, I know. I somehow know.

There is this strange stillness in the room, and it’s not the stillness of sleep; Grandpa is no longer here. He is in his bed, but he’s gone.

He’s died quietly in his sleep.

…

I sit there, by his bed, absolutely still, watching him. I won’t tell anyone just yet. I need it to be him and me one last time.

I just sit by him, pretending that he is still asleep. But I can tell he isn’t. He doesn’t look peaceful. He looks tormented and sad. Full of questions. He looks like he’s aged ten years since last Tuesday.

As I sit there next to his body, just staring blankly at the face of my grandpa, something happens to me.

Quietly, without even noticing it, I become a different person.

Any fragment of goodness I had left in me, dies with Grandpa on that bed.

I don’t shed a single tear. I just sit there, in the absolute stillness, look at him, and change inside .

When I finally get up an hour later, I have decided to start living again. I will make a plan. I’ll get a job, I’ll find a place to live. I won’t stay in this house and keep my mom and my brother away from their own lives any more. I won’t kill them too.

I won’t drag anyone else down the hole that has become my existence.

I will figure it out, I will do what I have to, but I won’t stay still like my grandpa’s silhouette under the blanket.

I did that for these past few days, and look at what it led to: More death. No, I’m done with that. I will live whatever life I can. I have no idea how, but I’m not going to wallow anymore. This ends now.

I take one last look at the figure on the bed behind me, and say goodbye with no words. Then I walk to the door and grab the handle, closing the door on the dead:

My grandfather and myself.