76. Lou
Lou
I’ve never seen him like this. I’ve known Seth for eighteen years.
I was there when he was bullied—when they called him names and shoved him around.
I was there when they broke into his locker, stole his drawings, and wrote horrible stuff all over them.
When they tried to break him. I was there through it all.
And I’ve never seen him like this.
When I picked him up at the airport early yesterday morning, his eyes were hollowed. He was pale, and completely sunken in. Shoulders hunched forward and chin dropped towards his chest.
And when he looked up at me, I think my heart broke, too.
“I fucked up,” he says, lying on my couch under a blanket, like he has for the past day and a half. Last night he slept in my bed, and I held him all night. He couldn’t stop crying.
“I don’t know what to say, Seth.”
“There’s nothing to say. I fucked up. I fucked up everything.” And then his voice breaks, and he pulls the blanket over his face, and cries again.
“Maybe you should turn your phone back on?” I ask him. He’s cross-legged on a chair in my kitchen, resting his chin in one hand. Eyes staring at a spot on the table. Hardly blinking. I made some tea for us, but he hasn’t even sipped it.
“I don’t want to,” he mumbles.
“Because you’re afraid he’s texted? Or called?”
“Because I know he hasn’t.” He starts bouncing his knee, biting his lip. “You wanna know something funny?” he says, looking at me. “I actually thought he felt something for me, too.” He huffs a laugh, before his face twists and tears start streaming down his face.
I heard him crying in the shower before. Sometimes it’s quiet, like at night. He just sniffles, and his shoulders shake. But sometimes, it’s this gut-wrenching sound that I’ve never heard before. Like it’s coming from the deepest depths of him. Like some beast, trying to claw its way out of him.
And I can’t do anything.
I always feel so goddamn helpless when it comes to Seth. I couldn’t stop the bullies in high school, and I can’t take away this pain from him now.
I called my mom when he was in the shower, trying to get some advice or anything.
“I’ve never seen him like this, Mom,” I whispered. “He’s broken.”
“He’s heartbroken,” she said. “Just try and be there for him and—”
“It’s more than a heartbreak. He lost his best friend in the process, too.”
I have to go to work tomorrow. I called in sick today, I didn’t want to leave Seth alone, but I have to go in tomorrow. He’s been here for four days, and he’s barely eaten a thing.
“Will you be okay when I leave for work?”
“Yeah,” he says, chewing the corner of his mouth.
“Maybe you can go outside for a bit, have a look around in the city, or—”
“I’ll be fine, Lou.” He shakes his head. “Don’t worry.” I always worry.
“You hungry?”
“I don’t know what to do,” he says, ignoring my question. “I can’t go back there. I can’t face him.”
“Of course, you can. He’ll come around.”
“No, he won’t. I lied to him. He hates liars, and I lied to him for years. There’s no going back.” He sighs and peeks at me through his lashes. “Aren’t you gonna say ‘I told you so’?”
“I’d never say that.”
“Yeah, you would,” he says, his lips twitching.
I grab his hand, squeezing it. “Not about this.”
“Well, you were right. This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Seth—”
“’Cause even if he somehow would forgive me, how am I ever gonna go back to being just friends with him?
Now that I’ve had him? How am I supposed to not love him anymore?
Can you tell me that?” He looks me straight in the eye, and I can’t tell if it’s hope that I’ve actually got an answer for him that I see there, or defeat because he knows I don’t.
I shake my head. “No.”
He nods once. “Right.”