Chapter Twenty-Two
Maybe I'm Not the Problem
Ender
Istop Gabe before he has a chance to run her off. I know he’s only worried about me, but I need to hear what she has to say.
My mother looks at Gabe with indifference and then goes back to me.
“Like I said, your father died and left me all alone. We lost the house years ago, and I got thrown out of our apartment when he died. I’ve been living on the streets since then.
” As she continues to tell me about her plight for the past year, I look around and see curious eyes on us.
“I think this is God’s way of telling me he loves me, running into you like this.
Do you have your own place? Do you think I could come stay with you for a little while?
” Her questions both shock and hurt me. “Kyle, are you even listening to me?”
“That’s not my name.”
“What?” she says with a look of disgust.
“I said, that’s not my name.”
“Are you going to pretend you don’t even know me? Like I’m a stranger, right here on the street in front of all of these people? Your own mother!”
“Ender, let’s go.” Gabe's voice is low, and his hand tugs on mine.
“Who the fuck are you?” She gawks at Gabe.
“Don’t you dare,” I warn her, all my pent-up anger for my parents finally releasing itself.
“How dare you claim ignorance? Me, treat you like a stranger? Are you fucking kidding me?” The volume at which I’m shouting has now drawn a crowd.
“This is the first time you’ve spoken to me since I was thirteen years old.
We lived in the same house for years, and you acted like I wasn’t even there.
” Gabe wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer as my voice starts to crack.
“When I finally left, you said nothing, did nothing. You didn’t even look for me! ”
My mother starts to look around the crowd. “Of course, I knew where you were,” she retorts, “You were with that weird kid, Colin, or that other one you were always with…”
“Connor. His name is Connor.” My eyes are already burning from the tears that have begun to fall.
“And don’t you fucking dare speak a word about him.
” I take a deep breath and continue before she’s able to say anything else about my friends.
“You knew where I was and didn’t come find me?
Didn’t give a fuck about me, but now you’re asking me for help?
” I scoff at the thought. “Do you even realize you still haven’t asked how I am?
If I’m okay? Happy? Do you even give a fuck now? Or am I only good for a place to stay?”
I see the indignation written all over her face before she even opens her mouth. “Well, at least you’d be good for something.”
The gasps and comments about my mother’s disgusting behavior from the crowd are nothing compared to her words. The same sentiment as always—I’m not worthy of love.
I stare into the eyes of the woman who gave birth to my former self for only a second longer before I push Gabe away and run down the street, needing to be alone.
I keep running when he calls out to me. I keep running when my legs start to hurt, when my lungs feel like they’re going to collapse.
I just…keep…running. I need to get there before it hits me—before I break.
The moment I pay for my ticket and enter the building, memories flood my mind—overwhelming me even more.
I find a restroom to hide in, desperate to ground myself until the panic attack subsides.
The time ticks by, seeming to go on forever, the hateful words of my parents and the bone-deep pain in my body consuming me.
My heart and soul just can’t understand how they could’ve done the things they did.
How they changed so much from before the moment he popped that first pill.
The moment that changed everything. I try to block it out and think about Blue, my one good thing in life.
I love my friends, but I needed more. I needed someone to want to love me without feeling like they had to.
Blue could’ve left so many times, and he hasn’t—despite how difficult I’ve been.
The more I think about him, the more my breathing becomes easier, and the more the negative talk subsides.
I wait a little longer than normal to leave the restroom after one of my attacks, knowing what’s on the other side of those doors.
Being here is a whirlwind of emotions every time, but I have to do it.
I wash up and leave, walking into the museum’s main area. Walking into flashbacks of a better time, when my father was a positive influence in my life. Before the drugs, before the verbal abuse, before he’d beat me for just breathing the wrong way.
The cars on display are pristine—shining like they’ve never seen the racetrack—the roll cages are in perfect condition, and there’s not a speck of dust on any surface.
The cars on the track usually didn’t finish the race looking as beautiful as these, unless the driver was among the best. Every race my father took me to at the speedway is a memory etched in my brain.
The times when he had a smile on his face and enjoyed spending time with me. When he didn’t treat me like a burden.
I don’t know how long I’ve been walking around when I feel someone step up beside me, and when I turn to see my best friend, a tear rolls down my cheek. Kaden takes my hand and leads me from the museum to sit us down on a bench outside.
“What are you doing here, Kaden?”
“Gabe called me.”
“Of course he did.” I smile at Gabe knowing who to call in times like this.
“I knew you’d be here, and my friend is in pain. So, where else would I be?”
“You make it sound so simple,” I tell him, with a slight chuckle.
“It is, isn’t it?” He nudges me. “You would do it for me, wouldn’t you? You did when all of that nonsense with Tyler happened last month.”
I shrug and say, “I guess. But that wasn’t your fault. Tyler hurt you.” I can’t make eye contact with him—I won’t be able to stop the tears from flowing. “I’m the dumbass who keeps running away from the one guy who will give me the time of day, all because I have mommy issues.”
“Ender, you didn’t do any of this to yourself. None of what happened to you was your fault.” He forces me to turn and look at him. “You didn’t deserve it. Those was their issues…His fault.”
My eyes sting from the breeze, and I shut them to fight back the emotions.
“We know what he did.”
When I meet Kaden’s soft eyes staring back at me, the warmth of his hands around mine soothes me only slightly.
“What are you talking about, Kaden?”
The compassion written on his face and in his tilted head has me gripping his hand even tighter, like I would disappear if I let go.
“Ender, you weren’t very good at hiding the bruises. The makeup you covered them with wasn’t even your skin tone. It was your mom’s, right?”
I feel my eyes widening with every word that comes out of his mouth.
“Who do you think called CPS on them all those times?”
“What?” The lump in my throat threatens to choke me, stopping me from breathing altogether.
“Ender, our parents called CPS to come out to your house so many times, the social workers got tired of it. Your parents always knew ahead of time they were coming. When the social workers got there, everything was ‘in order,’ so they just left and filed a report.”
When I feel wetness dripping onto our hands, I realize I’m crying—my cheeks raw and burning.
“After the tenth time coming to your house and never finding anything wrong, they didn’t bother coming out anymore. They just told Connor’s or my parents they would ‘keep an eye on the situation,’ knowing full well that was the end of it.”
“Every time they came out, my father threatened me, saying I had to tell them that I was happy, and that my parents loved me,” I whisper, barely loud enough to hear myself. “They would cover up the bruises or tell the person I fell off my bike if it was too big to cover up well enough.”
“We figured that’s what was happening. I remember all of our parents on the phone talking to your mom one day. My mom and Mrs. A kept begging her to let you come live with one of us. She just yelled at them the whole time and finally hung up. I think you were around thirteen then.”
“That’s when he stopped.”
“Yeah, we noticed. But it’s also when they started ignoring you.”
“You knew? Everything?”
“Yes, Ender.”
“And you kept being friends with me?”
I can’t help but give my friend a half-grin when he looks around us and says, “I think so…” pausing between each word.
“You stayed,” I mumble.
“Not everyone leaves, Ender. You have to stop living your life like they will.”
There’s a moment of silence between us, and I look away to steel myself. My lungs ache before I finally exhale and say something I never thought I’d say aloud. “I was in love with you for a long time, Kaden.”
“I know.”
I may have given myself whiplash when I look his way. “What do you mean? You knew this whole time?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know how long you did, but Luke caught on to it. He told me it was obvious. I asked Connor about it afterward. He agreed.”
“Jesus, Luke must hate me.”
“No, he doesn’t. He knows it was in the past, and we both know how you feel now.” He hesitates before telling me more about how obvious I am. “You need to tell Gabe you’re in love with him.”
“I’m scared, Kaden.”
“He won’t leave.”
“You don’t know that,” I tell him.
“Yes, I do.” The confidence in Kaden’s voice makes the tiniest seed of hope take root in my heart.
Gabe
I get to the NASCAR Hall of Fame and see Kaden and Ender in an embrace on a bench outside. I’m almost jealous, but I know better than to be—I just wish it was me he’d let comfort him.
I give them a moment before I approach them, and I swear my heart stops when our eyes connect. We gradually close the distance between us, until I break into a jog, not wanting to spare a second until he’s in my arms again.
“I’m sorry,” he says as I crash into him, lifting him off his feet and holding him so tight I might break him in two.
“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.” I push his hair back and my lips instinctively go to his comfort spot as I set him down. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good. But can you take me home?” he murmurs against my neck.
I don’t want him to go home—I want him with me. And then I see the moment he can tell what I’m thinking.
“I mean your home. With you.” He looks nervously at me. “If that’s okay?”
“Of course it is, Bean.” I look over his shoulder. “Thanks for finding him, Kaden.”
“Stop losing my friend, and I wouldn’t have to keep track of him for you.”
“We don’t plan on it ever happening again.” Then I look at Ender and say, “Right?”
His eyes are sad when he turns them on me. “I’m a lot of work, Gabe.”
I wipe the tear from his cheek, then press a firm kiss to his lips. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m a hard worker and don’t give up easily.”
“You should probably cut your losses and find someone who isn’t a pain in the ass.” He actually gives a half-smile.
“Can we not talk about pain in our asses at the moment? We’re trying to have a serious conversation.” I give him a lighthearted smirk and continue teasing. “Geez, always wanting my dick in your ass.” He laughs at my feigned annoyance. “Come on Bean, let’s go home.”