She left me this, and it’s all I have left. So I talk to it.
“I never even got to tell you,” I say. “That I’m bi. Not that you’d care. But you wouldn’t hate me for it like Dad does. You’d make me cake and throw me a little party, or something equally embarrassing and over-enthusiastic and parent-y.”
The bike is silent, the warmth of the engine seeping through my jacket.
“Love just…happens,” I groan. “And I hate it. I hate every part of it. I wouldn’t be this way if it wasn’t for Mark. If you were here, you would’ve kicked his ass. I know you would.”
Cars pass me, and then the road is blissfully quiet again. The view isn’t much, but there’s the green tops of trees and the pale blue of the sky, and I start to wonder if someday my heart will be as clear and peaceful as that sky.
*******
BEATRIX
My name is Beatrix Cruz and I've never given a shit what anyone says about me.
Okay. That's a lie. Maybe I do give a shit. It's definitely a tiny, pigeon-sized shit, though.
Which is why I wore the dress Seamus made me to meet Mr. Blackthorn at Ciao Bella. It had the dual effect of bumping up my confidence, so that I could actually face him with some shred of dignity. He smiled when he saw me.
"My, my, Beatrix. Wherever did you get that dress?"
"From your tailor, actually," I slid into the booth seat.
"Oh?" Mr. Blackthorn looked as dapper as ever with his silver-streaked hair and crinkly eyes. "How did you chance upon him?"
"Wolf took me."
Mr. Blackthorn blinked, dumbstruck. "Well then. Let's order some food and you'll fill me in on the whole thing while we wait."
And I did. I never hesitated once as I told him about everything that happened at Riley's party - the dancing, Burn saving me from sleazy Eric, Fitz doing weed pancakes, Wolf drinking, the fight between Fitz and Wolf. I told him about Wolf coming to my house and bringing me to Seamus, though I left out the part about my Dad. Something felt wrong, telling such a put-together man about the sad state of my family. I guess his wasn't any better - a deceased wife and three sons who never talked to him. Not even money could buy a healthily-functioning family, I guess.
Our food came just as I finished. We ate for a few minutes, Mr. Blackthorn clearly digesting more than just his rigatoni primavera. I picked at my salmon nervously until he spoke.
"You said Kristin mentioned Mark."
"Yeah." I twirled my fork and tried not to look at him. "She said Wolf and Mark went out. For a while."
Mr. Blackthorn was stone-faced. Finally, he sighed.
"Is that what it was? How strange."
"Being gay - or, uh, bi - isn't strange, Mr. Blackthorn. I looked it up. Ten percent of the population -"
"No, not that." He said crossly. "I knew Mark. Wolf brought him back to the house several times. I always thought - Wolf introduced him as a 'friend', but I always thought Mark had simply bullied him into being friends. They were never quite - normal with each other."
"Normal? I don't get it."
"Friends don't call each other idiots."
"Well, uh, they do -"
"No, not like Mark called my son an idiot," Mr. Blackthorn shook his head. "Friends don't empty each other’s' wallets on a weekly basis. I'd give Wolf his allowance, and it would be gone by Friday," he said. "Wolf never spends much - if he does, it's on a motorcycle part once every few months. So when it all went missing so quickly, I had to start wondering. I had one of my men follow them discreetly; Mark would take Wolf to video game stores, clothes, shoes, booze - even what I later confirmed to be a drug dealer's house. Mark liked pills, you see."
I downed my lemonade quietly, absorbing all the information. Mr. Blackthorn cut a bit of shrimp and continued.
"Towards the end of their 'friendship', Mark would call Wolf at strange hours, and Wolf would sneak out of the house to see him."
I blushed. "Erm, that could just be -"
"Wolf would come back bleeding," Mr. Blackthorn said calmly. Too calmly, like he'd internalized it to the point of denial. "All over his face, his hands. I asked him once what happened, and he slammed his door on me. He hid his bandages so well under his uniform. He got very good at it. It broke my heart."
My chest twisted. "So you're saying Mark -"
"- abused my son? I believe so, yes. But Wolf did what anyone does in an abusive relationship; he stayed. He justified Mark's actions. Over and over again, I heard Fitz and Burn try to talk to him about it, only to hear him give terribly brainwashed reasons for what Mark was doing. The boy was cruel, and taking that cruelty out on my son."
I remembered the hollow words Wolf said at Seamus’s house. Was that an echo of what Mark said to him years ago?
"Why didn't you - " I breathed in, remembering what my textbooks said. "Sorry. I know blaming someone doesn't help."
Instead of getting pissed like I thought he would, Mr. Blackthorn smiled gently.
"No, it's alright. Seeing you get angry on Wolf's behalf is oddly heartwarming to me. It shows you care."
"Not about him," I started. "Just about - about people in crappy situations."
He smiled brighter. "Of course. Regardless, I did everything in my power to separate them. But Wolf wouldn't have it. No matter what I did, the harder I tried to keep them apart, the more Wolf fought to stay with him. Until finally -"
His eyes got distant.
"The fight happened?" I asked. Mr. Blackthorn nodded, coming back to earth.
"Yes. I got a call from the principal that afternoon. And shortly after, Mark dropped out. It's my belief Wolf finally stood up for himself, and seeing he couldn't manipulate him anymore, Mark left."
"And I...remind him of Mark," I murmured.
"Did he say that?"
"He said that I sounded like him. And Fitz said it at the party. That's what started their fight, so it can't be all false."
He drank his wine slowly, then patted my hand.
"I'm sure you are a much better person than Mark, Beatrix. After all, you agreed to help me, didn't you?"