Chapter 40 #2
He stares at it for a long moment, barely seeming to register what it is.
Then, his face hardens, his jaw clenching.
He scrabbles to his feet and snatches up something sitting on the stones beside him.
Metal glints in the moonlight, and suddenly I’m staring down the barrel of a small pistol.
Owen’s hand shakes as he steps back, stumbling on the uneven rocks.
“I don’t need anything from you!” he says, his voice thick with emotion.
I swallow, my eyes fixed on the wavering gun. I should probably be terrified, but instead, a fierce sense of protectiveness steals over me. Whatever it takes, I’ll make sure Owen comes out of this in one piece.
“I know I’ve let you down before, and for that, I’m sorry,” I say. “But when I stayed away from Mackinac Island, it wasn’t to stay away from you. I loved spending time here with you. You’re like a brother to me, Owen. I care about you.”
Owen snorts and shakes his head. “No, you don’t. You never did. Not like I wanted you to.” His voice breaks. He tries to take another step back but comes up against the boulder behind him.
I raise my hands helplessly. I want to rush to him, but I don’t dare so long as he’s holding the gun. While I still can’t bring myself to believe he’d shoot me, that doesn’t mean he won’t accidentally pull the trigger in a panic.
“Please, Owen,” I beg. “We can talk this through. You don’t have to do this.”
Owen gives a raspy chuckle. “And why shouldn’t I? No one would miss me.”
Besides me, Chris visibly recoils, and I flash back to a similar comment he’d made when I questioned his insane plan to prematurely terminate a loop. But while he’d at least couched his self-deprecating remark as a joke, Owen’s grim expression remains dead serious.
“I would,” I insist, swallowing down a fresh wave of fear.
“And what about your mom?” Chris demands, his voice firming as he recovers from his shock. “You don’t think this would break her heart?”
Owen flinches, lowering the gun a fraction.
I risk a step closer to him. “Maybe it would,” he admits.
“For a while. But she’d be better off in the long run.
She doesn’t know what to do with me. I don’t belong here—I never have.
She deserves a better son. Someone who isn’t so…
” His breath hitches on a sob. “So broken.”
I try to sidle another step toward him, and his eyes flare.
He steadies his aim, fixing the pistol on me.
“And don’t pretend like you’d care! Just because you didn’t hate spending time together doesn’t mean it ever mattered to you, either.
You stopped coming here and never even tried to reach out or talk to me.
It’s like I stopped existing for you.” His voice grows small.
Quiet. Lost. “Everyone goes away eventually.”
His words rend me to the core, ripping me wide open.
I think of my mom lying in that hospital bed, her body frail and ravaged by the cancer consuming her.
I’d been so wrapped up in losing her that I’d cut myself off from everyone else instead without even realizing it.
From Owen. From my friends. From Chris.. .
“You’re right,” Chris says, drawing Owen’s attention back to him even as he keeps the pistol trained on me.
“Life sucks sometimes. It’s easy to feel like the whole world is out to get you.
That no one understands you or has your back.
” He grimaces. “But that’s not true. No matter how dark or lonely things get, there will always be people out there who care about you.
” He glances quickly at me. “If you let them.”
“Oh, yeah?” Owen sneers. “So, what, you’re saying life sucks, get over it? Because, sorry, that’s not exactly comforting.”
Chris looks like he’s torn between laughing or scowling. “No, smartass. I’m saying things are never as bad as they seem.” He hesitates again, his gaze shifting downward. “I’ve been where you are,” he says softly. “I’ve thought about how it might feel to escape all this nonsense.”
What?
I glance sharply at Chris, but he ignores me. Owen swallows, some of his bravado fading. Again, his arm wavers, the pistol partially lowering. “And? Why didn’t you?”
Chris shrugs. “Because deep down, I knew it wasn’t what I wanted.
That it wouldn’t actually make anything better.
” His eyes flick to mine again, and he gives me a tiny, apologetic smile.
“That if I did, I’d miss out on any chances I had to be happy instead of numb.
So, I worked hard to find a way past the pain and bullshit instead. ”
Owen swallows, and in that instant, his face transforms from an angry teen into a scared little kid, desperately seeking comfort. His arm sinks to his side, the pistol pointed at the ground. “How?” he whispers. “How can you stand it?”
“Honestly? For a long time, I did what I had to in order to survive. It’s only recently that I’ve started to realize that the real trick is to learn to love yourself.
And if you’re not quite ready for that yet, maybe start by figuring out how to at least like yourself first. Because all this—” Chris sweeps his arms out to either side “—is just noise until then. What matters most is what you think, not anyone else. Because at the end of the day, you’re the one that has to live with yourself. ”
Chris falls silent, leaving me utterly speechless.
His words resonate with some hidden part of me, and I think back on what Carol had said—on all the thoughts and fears I’d been grappling with earlier today.
I mean, I’ve always heard people tossing around love thyself like it was the most important thing in the world.
But this is the first time I’ve truly registered what it means.
When it comes down to it, isn’t that the root of my fear of disappointing others? I worry they won’t think I’m good enough because I don’t think I’m good enough. Because deep down, I’m ashamed of who I am. And maybe it’s time I acknowledge that’s bullshit.
Chris’ words clearly strike a chord with Owen, too.
He slumps back against the boulder, propping himself up on his arms. The pistol hangs limply at his side.
His fingers twitch, and for one terrifying instant, I imagine him bringing the pistol up, leveling it at one of us or himself, and pulling the trigger before we can react.
Instead, he lets the pistol go. It clatters to the stone, and he sinks down after it along the boulder’s side, coming to rest with his head cradled in his arms. Off to our left, the gentle waves of Lake Huron lap against the rocky shore.
His voice sounds so small and scared when he speaks. “I…I’m pretty sure I’m gay.”
Chris glances at me, and I open my mouth to speak…but the words stick in my throat. Fuck, even now? I guess it’s one thing to acknowledge the truth about my anxiety over coming out and accept what I need to do—it’s another thing entirely to actually do it.
Chris’ lips firm. I turn away, clenching my teeth as he faces Owen. “So what?” he retorts. “I’m gay. There’s nothing wrong with that. No matter what any assholes at your school might say.”
Owen’s head shoots up, his eyes fixing on Chris. “You are?”
“Sure am. Figured it out during high school, just like you.”
“And…did you come out?”
“Eventually.” He hesitates, his jaw tightening. “I won’t lie and say it was easy. To be honest, it kinda sucked. But ultimately, it was worth it.” He glances at me. “It let me be myself.”
Owen turns to me, his expression oddly hopeful. “I…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” A faint blush tinges his cheeks. “I suspected a while ago, but it took me time to come to terms with it. You’re not…disgusted by me or anything, right?”
My eyes widen. “Of course not! I meant what I said before—you’ll always be my friend.” If there’s anyone I’m disgusted with right now, it’s me.
Something like disappointment flickers across Owen’s face, but a small smile quickly replaces it.
“Thanks.” He scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck.
“For, um, everything.” He glances down at the discarded pistol and then scoots further away from it as if worried it might burn him.
“For the record, I wasn’t going to shoot you. It’s not even loaded yet.”
Chris strides over and snatches up the pistol, holding it carefully away from him. “Yeah, not sure that excuses threatening to kill us.”
“Sorry,” Owen repeats, bowing his head.
This is it, I think, watching him. I could come out right now—confess my own sexuality so he knows I’m on his side. And yet, the words won’t come.
Unable to look at Chris for fear of the disappointment I might see, I clear my throat and catch Owen’s eye.
“It’s all right. And for what it’s worth, I know your mom pretty well after all these years.
I don’t think you have anything to worry about if you decide to come out to her.
But that’s your choice to make, no one else’s. ”
He blushes and nods, keeping his gaze downcast. “I’ve made such a mess of things, haven’t I?” he whispers. “Fuck, I…I can’t believe I was seriously going to…”
“But you didn’t.” Chris steps over to Owen and offers his free hand.
After a moment’s hesitation, Owen takes it, and Chris hauls him to his feet.
“That’s what matters, at least right now.
” His eyes narrow, his voice gaining an edge.
“But you will talk to your mom about all this, right? You won’t let things get so bad again.
And you definitely won’t be mishandling any more firearms. Right? ”
Owen swallows. “Right.”
Chris raises an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”
Owen hesitates before his face lights up with a small grin. “Because I’m not in this alone?”
Chris claps him on the back. “Damn straight! Whatever else happens, you’ve got your mom, Percy, and me in your corner now. And if I have to come back here and beat up some high school twerps, I will.”
Somehow, I completely believe him.