Mysterious Skin - I Wish I Was (5/15)
Title: I Wish I Was (5/15)
Author: osaki_nana_707
Pairings/Characters: Wendy, Neil, Eric, Brian, mentions of EricxBrian
Rating: light R
Warnings:language, mentions of abuse, drug abuse, sexual situations
Summary: Brian's not through with Neil. Neil's not through destroying himself.
Read
Chapter 5
(Wendy Peterson)
I couldn't find Neil anywhere. I looked in all of his usual haunts and found not a single trace of him. The barista at the café he seemed to frequent as of lately mentioned that he'd been by earlier that day, but he hadn't seen him since. Technically, he was supposed to be at work, but he hadn't shown up there either.
As soon as I got back to the apartment, I was about ready to call the police. I had the phone in my hand when I noticed his bedroom door was cracked. It was the only place I hadn't checked.
There was definitely a lump defined on that mattress that was shaped similarly to Neil. I stepped in slowly. He wasn't moving, and I couldn't help but lean over him to make sure he was still breathing.
I didn't know why I had the fear that he wouldn't be, and I think that was what scared me the most. I no longer knew anything about Neil… at least, I didn't feel that way.
His breath was coming out in little, shallow huffs, barely noticeable. I placed a hand on his shoulder and couldn't help but shake him. "Neil," I whispered fiercely, "hey, wake up."
He didn't respond right away, so I shook him a bit more fiercely, and finally he snorted and started to wake up.
"What? What is it?" he murmured, barely comprehensible with his voice still heavily laced with sleep. He seemed to barely be able to lift his head, but I was still able to make out an obvious dark line trailing down his upper lip, even in the dark. His eyes were already starting to flutter closed again, so I squeezed his arm.
"Where the Hell have you been?"
He sniffed, fighting to keep his head up. "Right here."
"You never sleep in here. You always sleep on the couch."
"Sorry," he said, sounding somewhat agitated. "Can I go back to sleep now?"
"No, no, you cannot go back to sleep because I need to talk to you."
He grumbled and rolled over on his back, leaning on his elbows. He sighed through his nose, and I could tell that he just wanted me to yell at him or whatever and get it over with so that he could go back to sleep… Might as well give him what he wanted.
"You were supposed to go to work today, and I couldn't find you anywhere. I was about to call the police. I thought you'd been picked up and carried away by some crazy motherfucker."
He rubbed his eyelids with his thumb and index finger. "That's fucking stupid."
"No, it isn't!" I shouted, not expecting my voice to start rising so fast. "It isn't fucking stupid because it's totally likely when it's you, McCormick!"
A grimace formed on his face, like he was thinking about something awful, but instead of talking about it, he instead croaked, "If you're just gonna yell at me, can it wait? I'm fucking tired."
"God damn it, Neil!" I screamed, thinking that punching him would be a really good idea at that moment… maybe strangling him… "For God's sake, will you just fucking talk to me for one god damn second? I've been worried sick about you, and you don't even fucking care!"
He glanced over at the door, looking anywhere but at me, of course. "I don't…" he shut his eyes for a moment, and for a second I swore I could hear his thoughts saying, just breathe. It wasn't something Neil would say. "You were the dumbass who didn't check my room and just assumed I went missing. You don't think I can handle myself?"
"It's not that. I'm not saying that," I said, though admittedly, I sort of was. "Neil…" I sighed. "You know how much I care about you… I can't help but worry about you because of all the things you do. You're not necessarily careful with yourself, no matter how much I want you to be. I can't help but think you're out on the street hustling again, or maybe you're buying drugs out of a back alley, or you could be starting a fight with someone who doesn't deserve it or… there's any number of things."
"I'm fine."
"Are you?" It was more accusatory than I'd expected.
He seemed a bit taken aback by it too. He blinked a couple of times and swallowed and sniffed and said, "Yeah."
"You've dropped at least ten pounds which on a skinny guy like you is really obvious. You're either sleeping all the time or up and jittery for days. You're closed off and distant and smoking all the time; you're skipping work and disappearing for hours and going into these crazy fits. You have nosebleeds and red-rimmed eyes; I've heard you puking. I've heard you screaming, Neil… screaming in your sleep."
He stared, obviously unaware that he'd been doing such a thing, and I swore for a minute that his lower lip was trembling.
"Please," I begged, and I felt tears welling pathetically in my eyes. "Please tell me that you're being careful. Please… just tell me what's going on. Let me help you, Neil, please. I don't even feel like I know you anymore."
For a split second I thought he would tell me… but that second passed, and I saw that stony expression appear on his face again. He'd closed me off. "I'm fine… I'm just going through some stuff. Don't worry about it."
"What stuff?"
"It's nothing for you to worry about…" he said, sinking back into his mattress, obviously done with the conversation.
I went and got a wet washcloth. He was already asleep when I came back in. I wiped the dried blood off of his upper lip, kissed his forehead, and left.
I didn't want to be upset with him, but I was, so I went and stayed with Jay for the night.
Neil didn't get out of bed except to piss for the next two days. I actually had to call into his work for him, claiming that he was sick, and surely he was sick with something. He was like a ghost in the apartment…
And then, four days after he'd curled up and basically died, he got up and left before I even woke up. He was gone all day and came back with his energy and his jitteriness restored. I did notice that he kept getting up to check the lock on the door, but he claimed that he wasn't. I also noticed he kept sniffing and wiping his nose, checking for blood when he thought I wasn't paying attention.
By that point, I was sure I knew what was going on with him, but it wasn't like I could accuse him of it or stop him. When Neil was on his path to self-destruction (which he'd basically been sprinting down his whole life), there was nothing I could do to stop him.
He was gone again in the middle of the night and didn't come back even that morning. He was probably out at some club, partying… or maybe he was hustling again…
Since I had the day off that morning, I decided to clean up, since there was nothing better to do. I figured that I was kind of halfway hoping that Neil would come stumbling in as high as a kite with powder on his nose so that I could force him to admit it… not that it would make any difference. I knew he would just claim that he wasn't addicted and that it was no big deal. Maybe I just wanted another excuse to yell at him.
I dusted, vacuumed, and cleaned the toilet and the sinks. I picked up all of my dirty clothes and threw them into a basket and then went into Neil's room to do the same. Maybe Neil didn't sleep in there usually, but his shit was constantly littered on the floor. He was almost never in there, so he never really cared to take notice of the piles of dirty clothes or old food that was just left sitting out or the crumpled paper and other trash that seldom made it to the trashcan.
I started picking up the clothes and tossing them into the basket, checking the drawers too because he tended to toss shirts and underwear back in there too. I thought that perhaps the best thing for me to do was actually wash all of it, but I couldn't really afford it. I had pretended for a little while that I didn't notice some of my money mysteriously disappearing, instead choosing to hide it somewhere where Neil couldn't find it.
Dirty shirt, dirty sock, another dirty sock, another dirty sock, a pair of dirty jeans… all of them went into the basket. I tugged on the bottom drawer and started tossing in balled up shirts that I was sure were dirty because at least I knew how to fold things and…
My hand lingered at the very back of the drawer for a long second, and I squinted my eyes because what was that?
I pulled out what I discovered was a shirt and slowly unrolled it from its ball… to discover that it was covered in blood.
For a second, I couldn't breathe.
I shoved it back into its corner and slammed the drawer shut and didn't come back to the apartment for the rest of the day… and Neil wasn't the only one who didn't sleep that night.
(Eric Preston)
March came far too soon for my tastes. I'd hoped and hoped that Brian would start to mend somehow (even though that was surely asking a whole lot) and cancel the trip. I didn't want to go at all. As much as I was crazy about Neil, after that night I felt like I would have been perfectly happy with never seeing him again. I wanted him to fade away from my life so that I could get over him and move on and not spend all my time feeling tortured by my feelings. It seemed that no matter how much I was able to remind myself that he wasn't any kind of prize, that he was actually someone that a normal person would want to keep very far away from, the moment I saw him all of that was forgotten about. He couldn't help that he was absolutely fucking beautiful, and neither could I. Maybe I was just shallow.
Still, even with the fear that I'd go stumbling back into that fall if I were to see him again, I couldn't tell Brian no… because the fact of the matter was that I was a little bit in love with him too.
Yeah, that was pretty messed up, I thought. I guess I was attracted to damaged goods or something, or maybe I was just a masochist, crazy about boys I knew I would never have… but damn it, when it came to Brian, I couldn't help it either. Everywhere that Neil went wrong, Brian had gone in a different direction. Maybe it wasn't right, but it was a different kind of wrong, a sweet, innocent, little brokenhearted kind of wrong, and while I wanted Neil to touch me and hold me and treat me special, I wanted to do all of those things for Brian… Brian, who I could never touch or hold or treat special…
Brain wasn't particularly good-looking, not like Neil. He was actually awkward in (to me) the best possible way. He was what most people would consider kind of a nerd, someone no girl (or boy) would give a second glance at, which I was sure must have been some kind of unconscious defense mechanism because of what happened… If someone were to really look at him, I was sure that they would notice like I noticed how beautiful a smile he had and how bright his eyes were… emphasis on were… Ever since that night, his eyes had been so dark, I barely recognized them.
Maybe that was another reason why I didn't want to see Neil. There was a part of me that was unforgivably mad at him for breaking Brian. I knew it wasn't really his fault, but while Neil had been fucking around in New York for a few months, I had been getting to know the shy, awkward, beautiful person that Brian was. Where Neil had batted me around as his plaything (not that I didn't willingly oblige), Brian had nestled into my heart and really made me feel wanted (at least platonically), and I couldn't stop adoring him because of that. He even admired little old me, trying to dress like me and speak like me and do what I did. Imitation really was the sincerest form of flattery, at least when someone as sweet as Brian was doing it. He'd opened up to me about things he didn't like to share with anyone else, and I in turn had done the same…
…but even then, there was a place only Neil could go, a place that he would not reveal to me, no matter how many times I assured him that I wouldn't think less of him. It wasn't as if I didn't know. I wasn't stupid, after all… but I wouldn't bring it up, I wouldn't force him to talk about it unless he was ready.
I was just a slave to him really, just like I was a slave to Neil, and that was why I was packing up my clothes to head to New York.
Brian was waiting for me when I pulled up, his mom and he both standing on the porch. I got out with a smile, sniffing at the breeze and shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans. "Hello, Lackey family," I greeted, trying to remain as chipper as possible since I certainly didn't want Brian to know how much I was dreading a trip that apparently meant so much to him.
Brian's mom hugged me, and momentarily I just savored the feeling of a mom hug since I got so very few of them now. Sure, it would never be like my own mom's hugs, but it still felt nice and warm. I also guiltily thought that if she knew how I felt about her son, she would probably prefer to bash my head in.
Brian was smiling, but he looked bad… kind of ragged, really, like he'd been facing down a nightmare… Actually, that was pretty much what he was doing. He'd lost a little weight, making his clothes appear a little baggy, and his eyes were lined with dark circles he'd started to try to hide with eyeliner that really didn't suit him. He was still beautiful in a 'look but don't touch' kind of way.
"You promise to take good care of Brian for me?" Brian's mom asked me, giving my face a gentle touch that was much more motherly than the one Ms. McCormick would give my face, though it was still just as nice.
"Of course I will," I assured her. "I won't let him out of my sight."
She hugged me again, and I kept the vague smell of gunpowder and oranges in my nose for as long as I could. "Make sure he calls me every day you're on the road, and while you're in New York. Don't pick up anybody because you can't trust anyone these days."
I nodded, smiling, smiling, smiling. This was, to her, a fun little vacation for two best friends. She didn't know the connotations of this visit. She didn't have any idea. I couldn't help but resent her a little bit for that, though I still liked her.
I turned to Brian then, still smiling, and he smiled back with a watery grin. "You ready to go?" I asked, clenching and unclenching my fingers in my pockets.
"Yes. I think so," he said, quiet as always.
"New York awaits then," I said, hoisting one of his bags into the back of my Gremlin while he followed with the other one.
He gave his mom an awkward hug goodbye, and she kissed his cheek, causing his eyes to well uncomfortably. "Call me every night," she reminded.
"I will," he said, nodding to convince her.
"Be careful."
"I will."
"I love you."
"I… I love you too."
After another hug that seemed even more unbearably uncomfortable to him, we climbed into the car and pulled out of the driveway.
As soon as we were out on the road and out of the neighborhood, I lit up a cigarette. I'd been trying to quit since Christmas, but now seemed like a good time. Music was blaring from the speakers, though it had a kind of annoying buzz from the back left one that had been blown.
"So," I said, smoke pouring from my lips, "do you want to stop and get something to eat before we get out of town or stop later?"
"I'm not hungry right now," he said, shrugging. "Later is fine… unless you're hungry."
"I'm fine."
Cue awkward silence.
"So…" I started again, not really knowing where it was going.
"I don't know yet," he interrupted, paused and added, "what I'm going to say… to him…"
"No big deal. You've got plenty of time. It'll probably take us a couple of days to get there, after all."
"…yeah… I gotta admit, I feel like I should have been ready by now, but… well, maybe now I'll be able to get my thoughts together since my mom's not around. I feel like maybe the closer I get to him, the clearer it'll become… kind of like before…"
"Well, I hope you'll find what you want to say. I'll back you up if you need it."
"I know…"
It was literally painful to watch him with his innocence ripped away from him. He was like a flower that had been jerked from the earth, slowly wilting away, but that was really just me waxing poetic again. I wanted so badly to tell him that I loved him, but I knew it wouldn't make him feel better. I placed my hand on his shoulder, squeezed, and let go, putting the cigarette back to my mouth.
A long stretch of silence passed between us, and I watched him stare down into his alien notebook, thinking desperately of where to start when it came to Neil… and I punched him in the arm.
"Punch buggy!" I shouted, and my heart could have melted when he smiled and laughed.
Author: osaki_nana_707
Pairings/Characters: Wendy, Neil, Eric, Brian, mentions of EricxBrian
Rating: light R
Warnings:language, mentions of abuse, drug abuse, sexual situations
Summary: Brian's not through with Neil. Neil's not through destroying himself.
Read
Chapter 5
(Wendy Peterson)
I couldn't find Neil anywhere. I looked in all of his usual haunts and found not a single trace of him. The barista at the café he seemed to frequent as of lately mentioned that he'd been by earlier that day, but he hadn't seen him since. Technically, he was supposed to be at work, but he hadn't shown up there either.
As soon as I got back to the apartment, I was about ready to call the police. I had the phone in my hand when I noticed his bedroom door was cracked. It was the only place I hadn't checked.
There was definitely a lump defined on that mattress that was shaped similarly to Neil. I stepped in slowly. He wasn't moving, and I couldn't help but lean over him to make sure he was still breathing.
I didn't know why I had the fear that he wouldn't be, and I think that was what scared me the most. I no longer knew anything about Neil… at least, I didn't feel that way.
His breath was coming out in little, shallow huffs, barely noticeable. I placed a hand on his shoulder and couldn't help but shake him. "Neil," I whispered fiercely, "hey, wake up."
He didn't respond right away, so I shook him a bit more fiercely, and finally he snorted and started to wake up.
"What? What is it?" he murmured, barely comprehensible with his voice still heavily laced with sleep. He seemed to barely be able to lift his head, but I was still able to make out an obvious dark line trailing down his upper lip, even in the dark. His eyes were already starting to flutter closed again, so I squeezed his arm.
"Where the Hell have you been?"
He sniffed, fighting to keep his head up. "Right here."
"You never sleep in here. You always sleep on the couch."
"Sorry," he said, sounding somewhat agitated. "Can I go back to sleep now?"
"No, no, you cannot go back to sleep because I need to talk to you."
He grumbled and rolled over on his back, leaning on his elbows. He sighed through his nose, and I could tell that he just wanted me to yell at him or whatever and get it over with so that he could go back to sleep… Might as well give him what he wanted.
"You were supposed to go to work today, and I couldn't find you anywhere. I was about to call the police. I thought you'd been picked up and carried away by some crazy motherfucker."
He rubbed his eyelids with his thumb and index finger. "That's fucking stupid."
"No, it isn't!" I shouted, not expecting my voice to start rising so fast. "It isn't fucking stupid because it's totally likely when it's you, McCormick!"
A grimace formed on his face, like he was thinking about something awful, but instead of talking about it, he instead croaked, "If you're just gonna yell at me, can it wait? I'm fucking tired."
"God damn it, Neil!" I screamed, thinking that punching him would be a really good idea at that moment… maybe strangling him… "For God's sake, will you just fucking talk to me for one god damn second? I've been worried sick about you, and you don't even fucking care!"
He glanced over at the door, looking anywhere but at me, of course. "I don't…" he shut his eyes for a moment, and for a second I swore I could hear his thoughts saying, just breathe. It wasn't something Neil would say. "You were the dumbass who didn't check my room and just assumed I went missing. You don't think I can handle myself?"
"It's not that. I'm not saying that," I said, though admittedly, I sort of was. "Neil…" I sighed. "You know how much I care about you… I can't help but worry about you because of all the things you do. You're not necessarily careful with yourself, no matter how much I want you to be. I can't help but think you're out on the street hustling again, or maybe you're buying drugs out of a back alley, or you could be starting a fight with someone who doesn't deserve it or… there's any number of things."
"I'm fine."
"Are you?" It was more accusatory than I'd expected.
He seemed a bit taken aback by it too. He blinked a couple of times and swallowed and sniffed and said, "Yeah."
"You've dropped at least ten pounds which on a skinny guy like you is really obvious. You're either sleeping all the time or up and jittery for days. You're closed off and distant and smoking all the time; you're skipping work and disappearing for hours and going into these crazy fits. You have nosebleeds and red-rimmed eyes; I've heard you puking. I've heard you screaming, Neil… screaming in your sleep."
He stared, obviously unaware that he'd been doing such a thing, and I swore for a minute that his lower lip was trembling.
"Please," I begged, and I felt tears welling pathetically in my eyes. "Please tell me that you're being careful. Please… just tell me what's going on. Let me help you, Neil, please. I don't even feel like I know you anymore."
For a split second I thought he would tell me… but that second passed, and I saw that stony expression appear on his face again. He'd closed me off. "I'm fine… I'm just going through some stuff. Don't worry about it."
"What stuff?"
"It's nothing for you to worry about…" he said, sinking back into his mattress, obviously done with the conversation.
I went and got a wet washcloth. He was already asleep when I came back in. I wiped the dried blood off of his upper lip, kissed his forehead, and left.
I didn't want to be upset with him, but I was, so I went and stayed with Jay for the night.
Neil didn't get out of bed except to piss for the next two days. I actually had to call into his work for him, claiming that he was sick, and surely he was sick with something. He was like a ghost in the apartment…
And then, four days after he'd curled up and basically died, he got up and left before I even woke up. He was gone all day and came back with his energy and his jitteriness restored. I did notice that he kept getting up to check the lock on the door, but he claimed that he wasn't. I also noticed he kept sniffing and wiping his nose, checking for blood when he thought I wasn't paying attention.
By that point, I was sure I knew what was going on with him, but it wasn't like I could accuse him of it or stop him. When Neil was on his path to self-destruction (which he'd basically been sprinting down his whole life), there was nothing I could do to stop him.
He was gone again in the middle of the night and didn't come back even that morning. He was probably out at some club, partying… or maybe he was hustling again…
Since I had the day off that morning, I decided to clean up, since there was nothing better to do. I figured that I was kind of halfway hoping that Neil would come stumbling in as high as a kite with powder on his nose so that I could force him to admit it… not that it would make any difference. I knew he would just claim that he wasn't addicted and that it was no big deal. Maybe I just wanted another excuse to yell at him.
I dusted, vacuumed, and cleaned the toilet and the sinks. I picked up all of my dirty clothes and threw them into a basket and then went into Neil's room to do the same. Maybe Neil didn't sleep in there usually, but his shit was constantly littered on the floor. He was almost never in there, so he never really cared to take notice of the piles of dirty clothes or old food that was just left sitting out or the crumpled paper and other trash that seldom made it to the trashcan.
I started picking up the clothes and tossing them into the basket, checking the drawers too because he tended to toss shirts and underwear back in there too. I thought that perhaps the best thing for me to do was actually wash all of it, but I couldn't really afford it. I had pretended for a little while that I didn't notice some of my money mysteriously disappearing, instead choosing to hide it somewhere where Neil couldn't find it.
Dirty shirt, dirty sock, another dirty sock, another dirty sock, a pair of dirty jeans… all of them went into the basket. I tugged on the bottom drawer and started tossing in balled up shirts that I was sure were dirty because at least I knew how to fold things and…
My hand lingered at the very back of the drawer for a long second, and I squinted my eyes because what was that?
I pulled out what I discovered was a shirt and slowly unrolled it from its ball… to discover that it was covered in blood.
For a second, I couldn't breathe.
I shoved it back into its corner and slammed the drawer shut and didn't come back to the apartment for the rest of the day… and Neil wasn't the only one who didn't sleep that night.
(Eric Preston)
March came far too soon for my tastes. I'd hoped and hoped that Brian would start to mend somehow (even though that was surely asking a whole lot) and cancel the trip. I didn't want to go at all. As much as I was crazy about Neil, after that night I felt like I would have been perfectly happy with never seeing him again. I wanted him to fade away from my life so that I could get over him and move on and not spend all my time feeling tortured by my feelings. It seemed that no matter how much I was able to remind myself that he wasn't any kind of prize, that he was actually someone that a normal person would want to keep very far away from, the moment I saw him all of that was forgotten about. He couldn't help that he was absolutely fucking beautiful, and neither could I. Maybe I was just shallow.
Still, even with the fear that I'd go stumbling back into that fall if I were to see him again, I couldn't tell Brian no… because the fact of the matter was that I was a little bit in love with him too.
Yeah, that was pretty messed up, I thought. I guess I was attracted to damaged goods or something, or maybe I was just a masochist, crazy about boys I knew I would never have… but damn it, when it came to Brian, I couldn't help it either. Everywhere that Neil went wrong, Brian had gone in a different direction. Maybe it wasn't right, but it was a different kind of wrong, a sweet, innocent, little brokenhearted kind of wrong, and while I wanted Neil to touch me and hold me and treat me special, I wanted to do all of those things for Brian… Brian, who I could never touch or hold or treat special…
Brain wasn't particularly good-looking, not like Neil. He was actually awkward in (to me) the best possible way. He was what most people would consider kind of a nerd, someone no girl (or boy) would give a second glance at, which I was sure must have been some kind of unconscious defense mechanism because of what happened… If someone were to really look at him, I was sure that they would notice like I noticed how beautiful a smile he had and how bright his eyes were… emphasis on were… Ever since that night, his eyes had been so dark, I barely recognized them.
Maybe that was another reason why I didn't want to see Neil. There was a part of me that was unforgivably mad at him for breaking Brian. I knew it wasn't really his fault, but while Neil had been fucking around in New York for a few months, I had been getting to know the shy, awkward, beautiful person that Brian was. Where Neil had batted me around as his plaything (not that I didn't willingly oblige), Brian had nestled into my heart and really made me feel wanted (at least platonically), and I couldn't stop adoring him because of that. He even admired little old me, trying to dress like me and speak like me and do what I did. Imitation really was the sincerest form of flattery, at least when someone as sweet as Brian was doing it. He'd opened up to me about things he didn't like to share with anyone else, and I in turn had done the same…
…but even then, there was a place only Neil could go, a place that he would not reveal to me, no matter how many times I assured him that I wouldn't think less of him. It wasn't as if I didn't know. I wasn't stupid, after all… but I wouldn't bring it up, I wouldn't force him to talk about it unless he was ready.
I was just a slave to him really, just like I was a slave to Neil, and that was why I was packing up my clothes to head to New York.
Brian was waiting for me when I pulled up, his mom and he both standing on the porch. I got out with a smile, sniffing at the breeze and shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans. "Hello, Lackey family," I greeted, trying to remain as chipper as possible since I certainly didn't want Brian to know how much I was dreading a trip that apparently meant so much to him.
Brian's mom hugged me, and momentarily I just savored the feeling of a mom hug since I got so very few of them now. Sure, it would never be like my own mom's hugs, but it still felt nice and warm. I also guiltily thought that if she knew how I felt about her son, she would probably prefer to bash my head in.
Brian was smiling, but he looked bad… kind of ragged, really, like he'd been facing down a nightmare… Actually, that was pretty much what he was doing. He'd lost a little weight, making his clothes appear a little baggy, and his eyes were lined with dark circles he'd started to try to hide with eyeliner that really didn't suit him. He was still beautiful in a 'look but don't touch' kind of way.
"You promise to take good care of Brian for me?" Brian's mom asked me, giving my face a gentle touch that was much more motherly than the one Ms. McCormick would give my face, though it was still just as nice.
"Of course I will," I assured her. "I won't let him out of my sight."
She hugged me again, and I kept the vague smell of gunpowder and oranges in my nose for as long as I could. "Make sure he calls me every day you're on the road, and while you're in New York. Don't pick up anybody because you can't trust anyone these days."
I nodded, smiling, smiling, smiling. This was, to her, a fun little vacation for two best friends. She didn't know the connotations of this visit. She didn't have any idea. I couldn't help but resent her a little bit for that, though I still liked her.
I turned to Brian then, still smiling, and he smiled back with a watery grin. "You ready to go?" I asked, clenching and unclenching my fingers in my pockets.
"Yes. I think so," he said, quiet as always.
"New York awaits then," I said, hoisting one of his bags into the back of my Gremlin while he followed with the other one.
He gave his mom an awkward hug goodbye, and she kissed his cheek, causing his eyes to well uncomfortably. "Call me every night," she reminded.
"I will," he said, nodding to convince her.
"Be careful."
"I will."
"I love you."
"I… I love you too."
After another hug that seemed even more unbearably uncomfortable to him, we climbed into the car and pulled out of the driveway.
As soon as we were out on the road and out of the neighborhood, I lit up a cigarette. I'd been trying to quit since Christmas, but now seemed like a good time. Music was blaring from the speakers, though it had a kind of annoying buzz from the back left one that had been blown.
"So," I said, smoke pouring from my lips, "do you want to stop and get something to eat before we get out of town or stop later?"
"I'm not hungry right now," he said, shrugging. "Later is fine… unless you're hungry."
"I'm fine."
Cue awkward silence.
"So…" I started again, not really knowing where it was going.
"I don't know yet," he interrupted, paused and added, "what I'm going to say… to him…"
"No big deal. You've got plenty of time. It'll probably take us a couple of days to get there, after all."
"…yeah… I gotta admit, I feel like I should have been ready by now, but… well, maybe now I'll be able to get my thoughts together since my mom's not around. I feel like maybe the closer I get to him, the clearer it'll become… kind of like before…"
"Well, I hope you'll find what you want to say. I'll back you up if you need it."
"I know…"
It was literally painful to watch him with his innocence ripped away from him. He was like a flower that had been jerked from the earth, slowly wilting away, but that was really just me waxing poetic again. I wanted so badly to tell him that I loved him, but I knew it wouldn't make him feel better. I placed my hand on his shoulder, squeezed, and let go, putting the cigarette back to my mouth.
A long stretch of silence passed between us, and I watched him stare down into his alien notebook, thinking desperately of where to start when it came to Neil… and I punched him in the arm.
"Punch buggy!" I shouted, and my heart could have melted when he smiled and laughed.