I snatch up the letters and the phone, and storm from the room, my heart slowly creeping out of my chest and into my throat. As I pound down the stairs, I scroll through Garen’s contacts and dial James’ number.
“Good mo—”
“Is he there with you?” I demand. “He said he wouldn’t be, he said you’d have no idea, but I don’t believe him, I can’t.”
James yawns. “What are you talking about, Travis? And by the way, you should really just add my number to your phone and stop calling me from Garen’s, if you intend to be harassing me like this constantly.”
“Garen is gone!” I snap into the phone. “He left notes for everyone, saying he was leaving. Some bullshit about not wanting to drag anyone else down with him? He wrote in the note to me that he wasn’t going to tell anyone where he was going, not even you, but I had to check. Do you have any idea where he is?”
“No, I don’t,” James says sharply. “Do you know when he left?”
“I have no idea. Sometime between ten thirty last night and nine o’clock this morning. Please, James, I know you’re his best friend, but if he’s there with you, you can’t cover for him. You have to tell me.”
“I’m not covering for him!” James bursts out. “Lord, Travis. I am more invested in Garen’s well-being than you will ever be. He is my best friend, he is my brother, and if I had the slightest idea where he could be right now, I’d find him.”
“Good. He left his phone here, so just… call me back on it if you find out anything else. I need to go tell Bill,” I say, ending the call and stuffing the phone into my pocket. When I pass through the kitchen doors, Bill looks up, smiling, from his cup of coffee.
“Good morning, Travis,” he says.
I thrust out the letter that Garen left for him. He frowns, but takes it and flicks it open. I watch his eyes rocket back and forth as he skims it, and by the time he gets to the closing, his hand is shaking. “Is this a joke?”
“No,” I say. “No, it’s not. I found it in his room. He left them for everybody.”
Bree looks up from her cereal, and I hand her the letter with her name on it and stuff the others into my pocket. Bill stands so suddenly that his chair tips over. “Is his car gone? Did he take it with him? Have you called—”
“Of course I called James,” I interrupt. He says he has no idea where Garen is, and he seems to mean it. The car’s gone. I don’t know where he’s going. Bill, I’m scared.”
He begins to pace back and forth across the kitchen, clutching the letter in his fist. “I don’t understand why he’d leave again.”
“Maybe he’s just in a bad mood or something,” Bree suggests, almost desperately. “Maybe he’s just upset, and he’ll come back. He came back before.”
I shake my head. “He won’t come back. He left his phone so we can’t contact him, he took everything he could need. And he’s afraid of what would happen if he came back, he’s scared of you making him go away.”
“Go away?” Bill splutters. “Go away where?”
God, I’ve already said too much. But at this point, it’s not like it can hurt. I sigh. “Rehab. Or a psych ward. Or both. He’s really messed up, Bill. Ever since he got back, all he does is drink and do coke and try his hardest to ruin everything.
“I think we should go after him,” Bree says quickly. “Isn’t there something in his car that we can use to track it?”
“It’s a vintage car,” I reply, “so I’d doubt it. The only way I’d really know how to find him is by asking James, but he had no idea Garen was even planning to leave. He’s freaking out. Maybe you could call Marian? I know he went to see her last time.”
“Of course, I will,” Bill says.
“Maybe he just went back to Patton,” Bree suggests.
“He wouldn’t do that. It’s where he went last time, he wouldn’t make himself that easy to track down,” I point out.
“Fine, so you come up with something, then,” she snaps.
Let me go after him. I will feel my way to him, I will track him with my soul. His skin will say my name, his bones will scream for me to follow.
“I don’t know,” I say instead. “I just feel like we should be doing something other than sitting here, expecting it to turn out like it did last time.”
Bill grabs his coat from the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “I’m going down to the police station to file a report. I don’t think they’ll be able to do anything… he’s not a minor, and he left of his own accord. But I have to try.”
After the front door clicks shut behind him, Bree turns to me. “Last time he left, he told you he was leaving immediately. But he went to see Ben, instead. Do you think maybe he did the same thing this time?”
“It’s possible,” I say, even though it’s kind of not. “I’ll call around, see if anyone’s willing to help look. Maybe you could check out some of the places he’s likely to go? The Grind, local music stores, stuff like that.”
She sails out of the room without another word. Well… I know Garen definitely won’t go to Ben this time, so who would be his second choice? Taking a seat at the table, I pull out my phone and call Alex. He picks up on the third ring.
“’lo?” he mumbles through a sleep-heavy voice.
“Garen ran away again,” I say. “He left notes for everyone in the family, saying he had to leave, that it’s the best for everyone. Has Garen come to see you? Do you know where he might be?”
“No idea,” Alex says, clearing his throat. I can hear the creak of bedsprings, like he’s sitting up. “Do you want me to try calling him?”
“He left his phone here.”
“James, then?”
For a moment, I’m distracted. “You have James’ number?”
Alex hesitates, then finally says, “Yeah. We uh, met at the wedding, remember? And you had me bring him his coat while Garen was in the hospital. He’s… a cool guy. We talk sometimes.”
“Oh. Well, I already called him, so it’s not worth bothering. He doesn’t know anything.”
“Give me like… ten minutes to get dressed, and then I’ll come pick you up. We can go look for him,” he says. “I have some ideas.”
I have just enough time to take a quick shower and get dressed before Alex pulls up. As I’m jogging down the driveway to his car, I send a quick text message to Ben. Garen ran away again. Alex and I are going looking for him. I’ll come by later to tell you about it. As soon as I’m buckled into the passenger seat, Alex peels out of the driveway. “Why did he leave this time?”
“He and I made a deal. If he didn’t tell Bill everything about his drug use and general craziness by noon today, I got to tell him. And I got his car. But that’s like, irrelevant. I don’t know how long he’s been planning to leave, but he seems to be really gone this time. I’m just… scared. Last time he left, he was at least clean. He was fine on his own. This time, he’s so fucked up, I’ll be shocked if he’s alive in a week.”
“Fuck,” Alex mutters. “Have you checked anywhere specific yet, to see if you can find him?”
“Bill went to the police station to make a report, but he’s also calling Garen’s mom to ask her to search Garen’s old New York haunts. My sister said she was going to The Grind, and if he’s not there, she’s going to go to some of the music stores she knows he—”
Suddenly, Alex stomps on the brakes, then pulls a quick U-turn in the middle of the street, muttering under his breath, “Music.”
“The hell?” I say, staring at him.
“Music. The music room at LHS? We all have keys to it. Garen has a key to it. And maybe he went there, thinking everyone would forget that he could,” he replies.
For the first time today, I feel a flicker of hope. It suddenly doesn’t seem so impossible that Garen – that all of us – will make it out of this alive and well. As we pull into the LHS parking lot, that flicker of hope explodes into a full-blown inferno. Garen’s car is parked in the lot. Practically before Alex has stopped the car, I tumble out and sprint over to the Ferrari. The doors are unlocked, the key is in the ignition, and there is an envelope on the passenger seat. I pick it up; it’s a money envelope, the kind banks give out with a withdrawal, but when I tip it onto my palm, only a piece of paper and two cards fall out. The paper is a withdrawal slip for three hundred and forty-six dollars, time-stamped eight thirty this morning. It’s such a random number that I assume it must be everything in his account. I turn the two cards over; the first is his credit card, the second is his driver’s license. I put everything back into the envelope and slip it into my pocket as I walk back to Alex, who is leaning against the wall of the school. “He emptied his bank account and ditched his license and credit card. I guess he’s trying to make it harder to track him down. Can you get us into the building?”
“Of course,” Alex replies. We circle around to the back of the school, and he unlocks a door I had no idea existed. The music room, which I’ve only been in twice in the three years I’ve been going here, is mostly prepared for summer hibernation. The chairs are turned over on top of the tables, the music stands are arranged neatly at the edge of the room, the blackboard has been washed, but in a second – less than, even – I know Garen has been in here. The chair at the teacher’s desk is turned around the wrong way, and I can perfectly picture him swinging a leg over it and straddling the back. If that weren’t enough, the silver, Hebrew-inscribed ring that I stuffed into his hand the night after he returned is lying next to the computer mouse. I cross the room in three strides and jostle the mouse. The screen flickers to life, revealing two open windows. The first is a train schedule to New York City, and the second is a description of bus fares out of the city.
“Looks like he went to New York after all,” Alex mutters, peering over my shoulder. “Bet I know why.”
“James?” I suggest, but Alex shakes his head.
“His dealer still goes to Patton, remember?” he says, pulling out his cell phone. I glance over just in time to read the text before he sends it. J—garen took / is taking a train 2 nyc. think he’s meeting w/ seth. see if u can find him first? xo alex. The “xo” part is a little baffling, but I decide that I don’t have enough energy to ask what that’s about. Instead, I simply say, “Can you drop me off at Ben’s house? I want to tell him what’s going on.”
Alex clenches his jaw, but says nothing as we head back out to the car. The drive is silent, and when we finally pull up in front of Ben’s house, he turns to me and says, in an awkwardly comforting tone, “We’ll find him eventually, you know.”
“Yeah,” I say. He’ll probably just be a corpse by that time. The sliding door at the back of the house is unlocked, and I slip inside. Ben is sitting on his bed, his head in his hands. He only straightens up when I enter.
“So, yeah. Garen left again,” I say. “He took off, and none of us know where he is.” Ben says nothing. His brow burrows, and he frowns at the floor, but still, no words. I continue, “He left me a note. Bill, Bree, and Mom, too. I talked to James, and Bill’s calling Marian. I think they’re going to make sure he’s not running around New York.”
Still nothing. “Alex and I have been looking all over Lakewood. I guess Garen broke into the music room at LHS, because there’s some… I don’t know, evidence that he was there. His car’s in the lot, but he’s gone. We think he left it there, probably got a cab. The computer in the music room had train schedules to New York, so I guess he’s headed there after all.” Ben glances at me, then back at the floor. I step towards him. “In order for this to actually qualify as a conversation, you kind of have to talk.”
“I want to break up.”
And suddenly I wish he had just stayed silent. I lean back against the wall, staring at him. “Are you serious?”
He nods slowly. “Yeah, I’m serious. We’re over.”
I’m going to be sick. I take a hesitant step forward and, when he doesn’t object, I sit on the edge of his bed. For a long moment, neither of us speaks. Finally, I have to ask, “Are you breaking up with me because I care that Garen’s gone?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m breaking up with you because I’m in love with you.”
“That makes no sense,” I say around a soft laugh. He suddenly swings a leg over me so that he can settle into my lap, facing me and running his fingers through my hair. His eyes can’t stop roving over my face, like he’s afraid this is the last time he’ll ever see me, and I’m unable to stop myself from kissing him. He kisses me with equal fervor, and I slide my palms down his back so that he shivers. When he tries to pull back, I lace my fingers together at the nape of his neck and murmur, “No, please.”
“Travis, stop,” he whispers. “Stop. It’s over between us.”
“I don’t understand,” I protest.
“I can’t keep doing this. I can’t be with you, knowing what it’s doing to everyone,” he says. “Every time Garen sees me touch you, I can see part of him dying. And I know that seeing him go crazy like this is killing you. I can’t deal with it anymore. I love you too much to put you through this.”
“You’re worth it!” I say. “God, Ben, please. I don’t want to lose you, I can’t. It doesn’t matter how much it hurts, I want to be with you. You’re everything to me.”
Ben shakes his head. “No, I’m not. I know you’re in love with me, but I know that you’re still in love with Garen, too. And that’s okay. Really, I don’t hold it against you. But as long as you and I are together, he’s going to suffer. And as long as he’s suffering, so are you. So, here it is. I’m letting you go.”
He tries to shift off of my lap, but I grip his hips. “No. No, no, no, please. I don’t want you to let me go. I want you to be with me. I want you to stay with me.”
“Stop it,” he says, wrenching my hands off of him and standing up. “You’re making this so hard, Travis. Just let me do the right thing, I don’t want to regret this.”
“You will! You’ll regret it, so please, don’t do it. It’s not the right thing, it can’t be—”
“It is. Things can never work out between you and I. There’s too much other shit going on. It’s not going to work out, and I’m not going to drag it out any longer. It’s just going to destroy both of us,” Ben says.
And really, what can I say to that? He’s right. Of course he’s right. I stand slowly, wondering if my feet are actually capable of carrying me towards the door. I’m supposed to leave, right? He doesn’t want me here anymore. He doesn’t want me. I clear my throat. “Okay. I understand.” He gives me a very small, sad smile. I wonder if he’s always been this beautiful, or if I’m just finally noticing now that he’s not mine anymore. I can’t move, not if it means walking out of this house and never getting to touch him again. Still, I have to ask, “Do you want me to leave now?”
“Yeah,” he says softly, “but first, I need you to kiss me, just one last time.”
I am pressing him back against the wall, almost before the words are even out of his mouth. We kiss desperately, feverishly, both of us sliding our hands over the other, trying to memorize every inch of skin. When I slip a hand under his sweatshirt, brushing my fingers across his stomach, he lets out a soft sigh, and I want to die. How could he possibly think that this should end? How could he possibly think it would be a good idea for us to never be able to do this again? But then he is pulling my hand away, bracing his palms on my chest to push me back a few feet. “You need to go. I’m serious.”
My stomach is turning, my heart is breaking, but what can I do? I nod and reach past him to open the door. “Alright. I’ll… I don’t know. Am I still allowed to call you sometime?”
“Of course you are,” he says, his face softening. “Travis, you’re one of my best friends. And you’re… god, I’m so in love with you. None of that has changed. I just don’t think we should be in a relationship right now.”
I let my feet carry me to the door, let him guide me outside. I don’t walk home as much as I wander home. My legs seem to be working, but barely, and I’m sure that it must take me twice as long as it should. I collapse in my bedroom sometime around noon, and manage to make myself lie there for the better part of the afternoon. A little after four, however, my pride, my self-control, my everything just goes away, and I find myself dialing Ben’s number. What will I say to him? Change your mind, take me back, you’re mine, I’m yours, maybe we can get through this together.
It doesn’t matter, anyway; he doesn’t pick up.
Previous Chapter
“Good mo—”
“Is he there with you?” I demand. “He said he wouldn’t be, he said you’d have no idea, but I don’t believe him, I can’t.”
James yawns. “What are you talking about, Travis? And by the way, you should really just add my number to your phone and stop calling me from Garen’s, if you intend to be harassing me like this constantly.”
“Garen is gone!” I snap into the phone. “He left notes for everyone, saying he was leaving. Some bullshit about not wanting to drag anyone else down with him? He wrote in the note to me that he wasn’t going to tell anyone where he was going, not even you, but I had to check. Do you have any idea where he is?”
“No, I don’t,” James says sharply. “Do you know when he left?”
“I have no idea. Sometime between ten thirty last night and nine o’clock this morning. Please, James, I know you’re his best friend, but if he’s there with you, you can’t cover for him. You have to tell me.”
“I’m not covering for him!” James bursts out. “Lord, Travis. I am more invested in Garen’s well-being than you will ever be. He is my best friend, he is my brother, and if I had the slightest idea where he could be right now, I’d find him.”
“Good. He left his phone here, so just… call me back on it if you find out anything else. I need to go tell Bill,” I say, ending the call and stuffing the phone into my pocket. When I pass through the kitchen doors, Bill looks up, smiling, from his cup of coffee.
“Good morning, Travis,” he says.
I thrust out the letter that Garen left for him. He frowns, but takes it and flicks it open. I watch his eyes rocket back and forth as he skims it, and by the time he gets to the closing, his hand is shaking. “Is this a joke?”
“No,” I say. “No, it’s not. I found it in his room. He left them for everybody.”
Bree looks up from her cereal, and I hand her the letter with her name on it and stuff the others into my pocket. Bill stands so suddenly that his chair tips over. “Is his car gone? Did he take it with him? Have you called—”
“Of course I called James,” I interrupt. He says he has no idea where Garen is, and he seems to mean it. The car’s gone. I don’t know where he’s going. Bill, I’m scared.”
He begins to pace back and forth across the kitchen, clutching the letter in his fist. “I don’t understand why he’d leave again.”
“Maybe he’s just in a bad mood or something,” Bree suggests, almost desperately. “Maybe he’s just upset, and he’ll come back. He came back before.”
I shake my head. “He won’t come back. He left his phone so we can’t contact him, he took everything he could need. And he’s afraid of what would happen if he came back, he’s scared of you making him go away.”
“Go away?” Bill splutters. “Go away where?”
God, I’ve already said too much. But at this point, it’s not like it can hurt. I sigh. “Rehab. Or a psych ward. Or both. He’s really messed up, Bill. Ever since he got back, all he does is drink and do coke and try his hardest to ruin everything.
“I think we should go after him,” Bree says quickly. “Isn’t there something in his car that we can use to track it?”
“It’s a vintage car,” I reply, “so I’d doubt it. The only way I’d really know how to find him is by asking James, but he had no idea Garen was even planning to leave. He’s freaking out. Maybe you could call Marian? I know he went to see her last time.”
“Of course, I will,” Bill says.
“Maybe he just went back to Patton,” Bree suggests.
“He wouldn’t do that. It’s where he went last time, he wouldn’t make himself that easy to track down,” I point out.
“Fine, so you come up with something, then,” she snaps.
Let me go after him. I will feel my way to him, I will track him with my soul. His skin will say my name, his bones will scream for me to follow.
“I don’t know,” I say instead. “I just feel like we should be doing something other than sitting here, expecting it to turn out like it did last time.”
Bill grabs his coat from the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “I’m going down to the police station to file a report. I don’t think they’ll be able to do anything… he’s not a minor, and he left of his own accord. But I have to try.”
After the front door clicks shut behind him, Bree turns to me. “Last time he left, he told you he was leaving immediately. But he went to see Ben, instead. Do you think maybe he did the same thing this time?”
“It’s possible,” I say, even though it’s kind of not. “I’ll call around, see if anyone’s willing to help look. Maybe you could check out some of the places he’s likely to go? The Grind, local music stores, stuff like that.”
She sails out of the room without another word. Well… I know Garen definitely won’t go to Ben this time, so who would be his second choice? Taking a seat at the table, I pull out my phone and call Alex. He picks up on the third ring.
“’lo?” he mumbles through a sleep-heavy voice.
“Garen ran away again,” I say. “He left notes for everyone in the family, saying he had to leave, that it’s the best for everyone. Has Garen come to see you? Do you know where he might be?”
“No idea,” Alex says, clearing his throat. I can hear the creak of bedsprings, like he’s sitting up. “Do you want me to try calling him?”
“He left his phone here.”
“James, then?”
For a moment, I’m distracted. “You have James’ number?”
Alex hesitates, then finally says, “Yeah. We uh, met at the wedding, remember? And you had me bring him his coat while Garen was in the hospital. He’s… a cool guy. We talk sometimes.”
“Oh. Well, I already called him, so it’s not worth bothering. He doesn’t know anything.”
“Give me like… ten minutes to get dressed, and then I’ll come pick you up. We can go look for him,” he says. “I have some ideas.”
I have just enough time to take a quick shower and get dressed before Alex pulls up. As I’m jogging down the driveway to his car, I send a quick text message to Ben. Garen ran away again. Alex and I are going looking for him. I’ll come by later to tell you about it. As soon as I’m buckled into the passenger seat, Alex peels out of the driveway. “Why did he leave this time?”
“He and I made a deal. If he didn’t tell Bill everything about his drug use and general craziness by noon today, I got to tell him. And I got his car. But that’s like, irrelevant. I don’t know how long he’s been planning to leave, but he seems to be really gone this time. I’m just… scared. Last time he left, he was at least clean. He was fine on his own. This time, he’s so fucked up, I’ll be shocked if he’s alive in a week.”
“Fuck,” Alex mutters. “Have you checked anywhere specific yet, to see if you can find him?”
“Bill went to the police station to make a report, but he’s also calling Garen’s mom to ask her to search Garen’s old New York haunts. My sister said she was going to The Grind, and if he’s not there, she’s going to go to some of the music stores she knows he—”
Suddenly, Alex stomps on the brakes, then pulls a quick U-turn in the middle of the street, muttering under his breath, “Music.”
“The hell?” I say, staring at him.
“Music. The music room at LHS? We all have keys to it. Garen has a key to it. And maybe he went there, thinking everyone would forget that he could,” he replies.
For the first time today, I feel a flicker of hope. It suddenly doesn’t seem so impossible that Garen – that all of us – will make it out of this alive and well. As we pull into the LHS parking lot, that flicker of hope explodes into a full-blown inferno. Garen’s car is parked in the lot. Practically before Alex has stopped the car, I tumble out and sprint over to the Ferrari. The doors are unlocked, the key is in the ignition, and there is an envelope on the passenger seat. I pick it up; it’s a money envelope, the kind banks give out with a withdrawal, but when I tip it onto my palm, only a piece of paper and two cards fall out. The paper is a withdrawal slip for three hundred and forty-six dollars, time-stamped eight thirty this morning. It’s such a random number that I assume it must be everything in his account. I turn the two cards over; the first is his credit card, the second is his driver’s license. I put everything back into the envelope and slip it into my pocket as I walk back to Alex, who is leaning against the wall of the school. “He emptied his bank account and ditched his license and credit card. I guess he’s trying to make it harder to track him down. Can you get us into the building?”
“Of course,” Alex replies. We circle around to the back of the school, and he unlocks a door I had no idea existed. The music room, which I’ve only been in twice in the three years I’ve been going here, is mostly prepared for summer hibernation. The chairs are turned over on top of the tables, the music stands are arranged neatly at the edge of the room, the blackboard has been washed, but in a second – less than, even – I know Garen has been in here. The chair at the teacher’s desk is turned around the wrong way, and I can perfectly picture him swinging a leg over it and straddling the back. If that weren’t enough, the silver, Hebrew-inscribed ring that I stuffed into his hand the night after he returned is lying next to the computer mouse. I cross the room in three strides and jostle the mouse. The screen flickers to life, revealing two open windows. The first is a train schedule to New York City, and the second is a description of bus fares out of the city.
“Looks like he went to New York after all,” Alex mutters, peering over my shoulder. “Bet I know why.”
“James?” I suggest, but Alex shakes his head.
“His dealer still goes to Patton, remember?” he says, pulling out his cell phone. I glance over just in time to read the text before he sends it. J—garen took / is taking a train 2 nyc. think he’s meeting w/ seth. see if u can find him first? xo alex. The “xo” part is a little baffling, but I decide that I don’t have enough energy to ask what that’s about. Instead, I simply say, “Can you drop me off at Ben’s house? I want to tell him what’s going on.”
Alex clenches his jaw, but says nothing as we head back out to the car. The drive is silent, and when we finally pull up in front of Ben’s house, he turns to me and says, in an awkwardly comforting tone, “We’ll find him eventually, you know.”
“Yeah,” I say. He’ll probably just be a corpse by that time. The sliding door at the back of the house is unlocked, and I slip inside. Ben is sitting on his bed, his head in his hands. He only straightens up when I enter.
“So, yeah. Garen left again,” I say. “He took off, and none of us know where he is.” Ben says nothing. His brow burrows, and he frowns at the floor, but still, no words. I continue, “He left me a note. Bill, Bree, and Mom, too. I talked to James, and Bill’s calling Marian. I think they’re going to make sure he’s not running around New York.”
Still nothing. “Alex and I have been looking all over Lakewood. I guess Garen broke into the music room at LHS, because there’s some… I don’t know, evidence that he was there. His car’s in the lot, but he’s gone. We think he left it there, probably got a cab. The computer in the music room had train schedules to New York, so I guess he’s headed there after all.” Ben glances at me, then back at the floor. I step towards him. “In order for this to actually qualify as a conversation, you kind of have to talk.”
“I want to break up.”
And suddenly I wish he had just stayed silent. I lean back against the wall, staring at him. “Are you serious?”
He nods slowly. “Yeah, I’m serious. We’re over.”
I’m going to be sick. I take a hesitant step forward and, when he doesn’t object, I sit on the edge of his bed. For a long moment, neither of us speaks. Finally, I have to ask, “Are you breaking up with me because I care that Garen’s gone?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m breaking up with you because I’m in love with you.”
“That makes no sense,” I say around a soft laugh. He suddenly swings a leg over me so that he can settle into my lap, facing me and running his fingers through my hair. His eyes can’t stop roving over my face, like he’s afraid this is the last time he’ll ever see me, and I’m unable to stop myself from kissing him. He kisses me with equal fervor, and I slide my palms down his back so that he shivers. When he tries to pull back, I lace my fingers together at the nape of his neck and murmur, “No, please.”
“Travis, stop,” he whispers. “Stop. It’s over between us.”
“I don’t understand,” I protest.
“I can’t keep doing this. I can’t be with you, knowing what it’s doing to everyone,” he says. “Every time Garen sees me touch you, I can see part of him dying. And I know that seeing him go crazy like this is killing you. I can’t deal with it anymore. I love you too much to put you through this.”
“You’re worth it!” I say. “God, Ben, please. I don’t want to lose you, I can’t. It doesn’t matter how much it hurts, I want to be with you. You’re everything to me.”
Ben shakes his head. “No, I’m not. I know you’re in love with me, but I know that you’re still in love with Garen, too. And that’s okay. Really, I don’t hold it against you. But as long as you and I are together, he’s going to suffer. And as long as he’s suffering, so are you. So, here it is. I’m letting you go.”
He tries to shift off of my lap, but I grip his hips. “No. No, no, no, please. I don’t want you to let me go. I want you to be with me. I want you to stay with me.”
“Stop it,” he says, wrenching my hands off of him and standing up. “You’re making this so hard, Travis. Just let me do the right thing, I don’t want to regret this.”
“You will! You’ll regret it, so please, don’t do it. It’s not the right thing, it can’t be—”
“It is. Things can never work out between you and I. There’s too much other shit going on. It’s not going to work out, and I’m not going to drag it out any longer. It’s just going to destroy both of us,” Ben says.
And really, what can I say to that? He’s right. Of course he’s right. I stand slowly, wondering if my feet are actually capable of carrying me towards the door. I’m supposed to leave, right? He doesn’t want me here anymore. He doesn’t want me. I clear my throat. “Okay. I understand.” He gives me a very small, sad smile. I wonder if he’s always been this beautiful, or if I’m just finally noticing now that he’s not mine anymore. I can’t move, not if it means walking out of this house and never getting to touch him again. Still, I have to ask, “Do you want me to leave now?”
“Yeah,” he says softly, “but first, I need you to kiss me, just one last time.”
I am pressing him back against the wall, almost before the words are even out of his mouth. We kiss desperately, feverishly, both of us sliding our hands over the other, trying to memorize every inch of skin. When I slip a hand under his sweatshirt, brushing my fingers across his stomach, he lets out a soft sigh, and I want to die. How could he possibly think that this should end? How could he possibly think it would be a good idea for us to never be able to do this again? But then he is pulling my hand away, bracing his palms on my chest to push me back a few feet. “You need to go. I’m serious.”
My stomach is turning, my heart is breaking, but what can I do? I nod and reach past him to open the door. “Alright. I’ll… I don’t know. Am I still allowed to call you sometime?”
“Of course you are,” he says, his face softening. “Travis, you’re one of my best friends. And you’re… god, I’m so in love with you. None of that has changed. I just don’t think we should be in a relationship right now.”
I let my feet carry me to the door, let him guide me outside. I don’t walk home as much as I wander home. My legs seem to be working, but barely, and I’m sure that it must take me twice as long as it should. I collapse in my bedroom sometime around noon, and manage to make myself lie there for the better part of the afternoon. A little after four, however, my pride, my self-control, my everything just goes away, and I find myself dialing Ben’s number. What will I say to him? Change your mind, take me back, you’re mine, I’m yours, maybe we can get through this together.
It doesn’t matter, anyway; he doesn’t pick up.
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