“Seriously?” Without any concrete evidence, the police were reluctant to charge him with attempted rape. It didn’t matter how many times I repeated my story to the cops; they couldn’t hide their skepticism. Marcus was right: no one believed loser space boys. But it didn’t matter. I’d made a choice.
Audrey’s tentative smile morphed into a grin. “The police searched him and found a handful of OxyContin in his pocket. Since he was on school grounds, that was all the excuse DeShields needed to give him the boot.”
“I hope he gets help.”
“I hope he gets what’s coming to him.”
He probably wouldn’t. He’d probably still get into a good college, end up rich like his parents, and have everything he thought he ever wanted. But it was like Ms. Faraci had said: Marcus didn’t matter to me.
“Have you heard from Diego?”
Audrey hesitated, and I knew she had. Mom had driven me to his house on our way to Quiet Oaks the morning after the winter carnival, but he hadn’t been home. I’d left a note on his front door, begging him to call Audrey or Charlie or my mom, but it had been three days and he hadn’t called. I’d even used the calling card Marcus had given me, and called Viviana from the hospital, but she hadn’t answered.
“He’s in Colorado.”
My heart was beating so hard, I thought it would explode. “Is he . . . ?”
“His sister is with him. He’s got to go before a judge for violating his probation, but since Marcus’s family isn’t pressing charges, he’s hopeful the judge will be lenient.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Marcus isn’t pressing charges? Diego broke his nose.”
“Don’t forget about the tooth.” Audrey chuckled. “Their darling boy tried to rape another boy at a high school carnival. It’s not the sort of thing his parents want to draw attention to.”
“Did Diego give you a number?” The hospital had a pay phone for patients to use, and I wanted to call him so badly. I didn’t expect things to go back to the way they were, but I was hoping he’d still be my friend.
Audrey shook her head.
I’d figured as much. Even though Diego had risked being locked up in juvie for me, I wasn’t sure I could fix the damage I’d done.
“Just focus on getting better, Henry. That’s what’s important.”
21 January 2016
On my fifth day in Quiet Oaks, Dr. Janeway took me on a field trip. It was my idea, but she agreed without hesitation. It was one of those nice Florida days that makes you forget about the months of steamy air teeming with blood-hungry mosquitos. A salty breeze blew in from the ocean, and it was cool even in the sunlight.
Dr. Janeway remained in her car, giving me enough distance to feel like I was on my own.
Jesse Franklin’s headstone was simple and uncomplicated. I think maybe people thought that’s how Jesse was, but there was so much under the surface that no one, not even I, knew about. I wish I had.
“Now that I’m here, I don’t know what to say.” I stood over Jesse’s grave, my hands folded in front of me. “Apparently, letting the world end is sort of the same as wanting to kill myself, so I guess I’m just as screwed up as you.”
It hurt to imagine Jesse all alone under the ground. I wasn’t sure whether I believed in heaven or hell or reincarnation. All I knew was that Jesse was gone and that I’d loved him.
“Dr. Janeway says I’ll never really know why you took your own life. I hope you knew that I loved you so fucking much. Maybe we don’t matter to the universe, Jesse Franklin, but you mattered to me.”
? ? ?
Mom and Charlie visited me yesterday, but I think it was difficult for Mom to see me in the hospital. I think blaming ourselves for situations we have no control over must be genetic. Maybe the sluggers should pay her a visit.
Zooey was waiting for me when I returned from the ceme-tery with Dr. Janeway. It hurt to see her without her round belly. Part of her was missing, but only those of us who knew her could see it.
“Hey, Henry.”
“Checking in?” Zooey didn’t laugh at the joke. “You look good.”
I didn’t know what else to say. The truth was that she looked tired, worn-down, and worn-out. Maybe she knew I wasn’t being entirely honest, but she said thanks, anyway.
“Where’s Charlie? Did he find the fridge? The nurses count those Jell-O cups.” I looked around for my brother but didn’t see him.
Zooey shook her head. “Just me.”
I led her to a threadbare couch, ignoring and ignored by the other patients.
She said, “I had class yesterday and couldn’t come with your mom and Charlie. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m good, I guess.”
Zooey seemed as at a loss for words as I did. She’d hidden herself away after New Year’s, and I felt guilty I hadn’t visited her. “That’s good.”
“What about you? How are you holding up?”
As soon as I asked, Zooey’s bottom lip began to tremble. I didn’t want her to cry in the crazy hospital, for fear they’d never let her leave. “I shouldn’t have come.”
She tried to stand, but I took her hand and pulled her back onto the couch. “I’m glad you came,” I said. “This place gets super boring.”
Zooey smiled a little. “Can I ask you something, Henry?”
“Sure.”