Chapter Thirty Three
Aaron
Luckily, a lot of this particular course is group or partner projects focused on dissecting a piece of literary work and then using our public-speaking skills with a presentation over the topic.
So, no papers. It’s the best. My first project of the semester is a partner project based around articles or newspapers that cover a national tragedy and were published by media outlets.
We chose Hurricane Katrina since we’ll have plenty of articles to work with considering how long ago it was.
I’m pretty happy with my partner, too. I happened to know him—Jeremiah—he’s a friend of Darian’s.
They’re on the basketball team together so we frequently saw each other freshman year.
Jeremiah’s smart and pulls his weight. He takes everything seriously to keep his basketball scholarship—which I respect.
As two avid gym nerds we like to hit my apartment gym before we get to work as well, which makes the whole event something to actually look forward to.
Working out alone can get boring and Benjamin is already so busy.
I miss him all the time, but I feel bad taking any more of his time than I already do.
I kidnap Benjamin most nights—bringing him to my house to stay with me so I can hold him while I sleep.
Then we eat breakfast together and I take him to work before heading to the pet shop or to class, depending on the day.
And in between all of that—of course—I’m fucking his brains out. Ah, I really miss him.
I turn the shower off, finishing up so we can finally start our project session. Jeremiah has already showered and I think I might have heard him talking to someone. I get dressed and head to the living room—finding him laid out on the couch like he normally does—the big bastard.
“Ready?” He asks, sitting up to grab his bag and throwing on his UA basketball shirt.
“Yeah—was someone here?” Jeremiah barely spares me a glance as he’s pulling out papers and pens and notebooks.
“Yeah. Some guy came in and said he was in the wrong apartment.”
“Oh.” Well Benjamin’s gonna kick my ass. He’s always telling me if I leave the front door unlocked someone’s going to walk right in. I tell him he’s full of shit. He’s going to love this.
As we get ready, I pull out my phone—3:23 P.M. Benjamin should be home by now. Normally he would have let me know—but sometimes he forgets.
Aaron
hey button, u home?
“Okay—I found this article the other night and I think it’s great for an opening topic.” I take the printed article from Jer and read through it—highlighting parts I think will work out.
We talk about it for a minute longer, but I can’t concentrate. Why isn’t he answering?
“Sorry—one second Jeremiah.”
I call Benjamin’s number, chewing on the end of my thumbnail. It rings and rings—
Looks like you couldn’t reach me, sorry. Leave me a message. Beep
The voicemail line starts to record and I hang up. What the fuck? His phone isn’t dead or turned off if it rang…
“Jeremiah—what did that guy look like?” He looks up from his paper, confused.
“From earlier? I don’t know. I think he was actually pretty handsome—if not a little young.
But I couldn’t tell under all the fucking blood.
Guy had the shit beat out of him—like I’m talking the whites of one eye were completely red.
And he looked at me like I was a terrifying alien. Your neighborhood is fucking weird.”
My heart has stopped beating—my hands won’t stop shaking. My mouth is so dry I think I might be choking but the only thing I can hear is Jeremiah’s voice.
“Oh—and blonde hair for sure—I could tell even with the blood.”
I shoot up from my spot across from him, the ringing in my ears starts to blast, volume up to one hundred. Benjamin was here covered in blood—saw another man shirtless in my apartment and ran. I dry heave over the table and Jeremiah jumps up too.
“Aaron! What’s going on?!” I pick my phone back up. It rings and rings—
“Hey, Bub—”
“Where’s Benjamin?” Felix is startled by the urgency, the fear in my voice. “Did he come home after work?”
“What? No—I figured he went to your place. I haven’t seen him since this morning.” I’m hyperventilating—pacing my living room. I don’t know what to do. The last time he fled from here he almost died. “Aaron?! What’s wrong? What happened?”
“He’s gone. He’s hurt really bad—I don’t know how and I don’t know where he went. Start looking, okay? I will too.” I hang up the phone, redirecting my panicked eyes to Jeremiah.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”
“No, it’s fine, but please close the door when you leave.” I grab my wallet and keys and run out of my apartment.
I go to the grocery store first and he definitely clocked out at 2 P.M. and left for the day. I drive his normal route home at least twice—checking anywhere and everywhere he could be hiding—laying on the ground hurt…
He’s not at Brews and he’s not at any of our friends’ houses. For a moment I consider Drew’s apartment—but it’d be a waste of my time. I meet Felix at a gas station in the middle of town.
“I checked the parks, swim centers, and bus stations. Everywhere. I even looked at the cemetery.” Felix has been crying. Kayla is behind the wheel—leaning out of the window with wide, scared eyes.
“I don’t—I don’t know where he is. He came over early; I was supposed to go get him.
I guess he saw… aw—Felix—” My eyes are watering as I stare down at him, hands gripping at the roots of my hair for any sense of grounding.
“He saw Jeremiah there. We have a project for Comms. I was showering from the gym, and he came over all bloody and then ran. I think he thinks I… I’m seeing someone else. ”
“Ah, fuck.” Felix says. “That’s bad. Fuck. It’s okay, Aaron.” He rubs my side, looking around the parking lot. “We just have to keep looking for him.”
That’s when a sick, terrifying thought curls around my brain—my heart, my body. I hear Felix screaming in my ear, I see Benjamin in that hospital bed.
“Fe, you don’t think he’d… that he’d…” I can’t say it aloud—but Felix reads me the way brothers do, and his eyes fill with awareness—with tears to mirror my own.
“Oh my God.” He whispers, clasping a hand over his mouth.
I’m running to my truck. I’m driving so fucking fast—so far over the legal limit. I park outside and bang on the door until it opens.
“What the—” I snatch Mad Dog up by his shirt and step into his apartment. He’s alone. “Yo! Yo! Dude, what the fuck! Who are you?”
“Has Benjamin been here?” His face twists into confusion.
“Who the fuck is Benjamin?” I shove his dumb ass against a wall. I’ve always been sensitive—a crier, a momma’s boy. But these days I just can’t stop myself.
“Really? The guy you sold Oxy to? That you sold some fucking red pill to and he overdosed? Hm?” It doesn’t seem to be registering for Mad Dog—but I guess that’s the way it is for dealers when they have a large clientele they don’t care about.
“Very handsome—blonde, brown eyes. He’s the singer that’s pretty popular on campus at UA.” Felix offers, coming up behind me.
“Oh! Benny. Yeah—he’s pretty popular these days.” I drop the fucker onto the floor, watching as he glares up at me, rubbing at his neck. “No, psycho. I haven’t dealt to him since last year.”
I don’t say another word. I turn on my heel and leave. Felix thanks the guy and follows me.
“I have hope that this means he didn’t do anything… like that.” Felix says, grabbing my hand as we head back to our vehicles.
“You want to know what he told me, Fe? He told me that he hates being alive—but loving me makes living worth it.” I stop in place, turn my head and look into Felix’s big, sad eyes. “I’m terrified that because of what he saw he’ll think I don’t love him. He won’t see a point.”
“No.” Felix says firmly. “Bear would not put that on you. Even if he wanted to do it—he knows that that guilt would kill you. He’s too good of a guy.” I hope he’s fucking right. I really, really hope he’s fucking right.
Think of me, baby. Think of how much I’d die without you and how much you hate me. Hate me so much but do it alive.
We start our drive again—searching around us, going into stores and restaurants as last resorts.
It had to have been Ronnie. Ronnie had to have found him.
My poor Button—God he must be so alone—so angry.
I have to fix it, I need him. Even if he’s punching and cursing me.
Even if he’s telling me he never wants to see me again—that I deserve to die—I need him.
There is only so much a soul can take before it gives.
And Benjamin’s soul was already broken when he was admitted.
They patched him up a bit, but he wasn’t healed, wasn’t cured of anything.
Our life together—that is what was healing him.
I saw it every day. I felt it every time I sank into him—heard it every time he told me he loved me.
It’s like someone ripped the band-aid off of a fresh wound and clawed at him.
A reminder that life can be awful and for some reason it’s always him who has to experience that.
Learn that lesson. That soul of his… so intertwined with mine—I can feel it disappear—shatter, wither away.
At this rate there will be nothing left of him.
Nothing for me to gather in my arms and drag home. To lay on my bed and slowly stitch back together until he’s one again—until he can breathe, until he can smile. One soul simply cannot survive without the other. If Benjamin dies—my body will simply follow him.
My heart, my soul. They will follow in pursuit of their home—their missing elements. I’ve sunk my teeth so far into him I’ll never be able to release him.
If he goes—what would I do then? Live in that pain? Live in the pain of having my teeth pulled out one by one—watching day by day a world without him in it?