I’M A little distracted while filming the cheerleaders, going over the conversation with Berlin in my head. I’m pretty sure he just asked me out, unless he happens to have an interest in obscure emo rock bands. But he said he looked up Petty Crime because of me. Was he doing, like, research?
Panic is what hits me first. And guilt, when I think about having to tell Seth about it. But I don’t have to, I remind myself. We’re not together and we haven’t been for months. Still, their show is about the worst possible place to bring another guy. The last thing I want is to confront Seth after months of no contact while on a date with Berlin. Talk about baggage. I wouldn’t want to subject Berlin to that shit show.
Berlin could be setting me up. Maybe it was a prank he and his friend Trent came up with. But I don’t think so. The way Berlin looks at me…. Which means the reason he asked me out is because he’s interested in me. Enough to risk being outed for it. He’s either brave or crazy.
But I’ve already decided I’m not going to Seth’s show. My parents won’t allow it, obviously. All forms of contact are forbidden, which is why I never go on Facebook. I might not be able to resist friending Seth again. Besides, my parents have all my passwords and probably check my accounts regularly. The NSA has nothing on my mother.
“Are you getting this, Hiroku?” calls one of the cheerleaders, Tamara, as she high-kicks her long leg in the air. They’re dressed out in their navy-and-gold uniforms for today’s filming. Tamara’s the one who recruited me to make this video. I showed some of my past work to the kids in Digital Arts and word got around. She cornered me in the hallway and asked me to film the squad. She even batted her eyelashes a little. It wasn’t hard to convince me. I need to be working.
“I think I’m going to need you to do that again,” I call to her with a flirty grin.
She struts up to the camera and makes a kissy face, then whispers in my ear, “I’ve got other tricks I could show you.”
I stop filming for a moment and tell her honestly, “I’m gay, Tamara.” I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.
She tilts her head and looks me up and down. “How gay are you?”
I laugh at her persistence. “Pretty fucking gay.”
She sighs and winds one finger through her long, curly ponytail. “Too bad. We’d make beautiful babies.”
“I have no doubt.”
She sashays back to the other girls, and we take it again from the top. As I’m leaving she knocks her hip into mine and says, “See you around, Hiroku. If you ever get bi-curious, I’ve got dibs.” She licks one finger and dabs the air to make her point.
“You’ll be first in line,” I assure her with a smile.
When I get home that afternoon, I put together the footage of the cheerleaders. The school’s editing equipment is subpar, and their computers are maddeningly slow. At home with my software, it takes me about two hours to create a bitching video that makes the cheerleaders look hot and cool and independent all at once. I add in some comic book transitions like Bam! Ka-Pow! Bang! and set it to a superhero-sounding fight song. It’s a far cry from creating music videos, but it’s something, at least.
After I upload the cheerleading video to the YouTube page for Lowry’s Digital Arts class, I go onto my Facebook page for the first time in weeks. I miss my old school, my old friends. It wasn’t like I had a ton of them, but I did have some good ones. I can’t hang out with them anymore, though. A lot of them are still using.
I notice a friend request, and my heart jumps. Is it Seth again? Earlier in the summer he tried friending me, sometimes using other people’s accounts. I didn’t see the requests until I got out of rehab, and I ignored them all. Avoiding past triggers is part of my treatment plan.
I click the icon, but it isn’t Seth. It’s Berlin.
Berlin, whose friends would all know if I accepted his request. Wouldn’t that look suspicious? I don’t know how he’s managed to stay in the closet this long.
As I sit there staring at Berlin’s profile picture, a chat box pops up from Sabrina, Petty Crime’s drummer and my best friend.
How are you?
Sabrina is the one who called my parents from the hospital after I overdosed and told them about the drugs and Seth. She’s part of the reason I’m on extended vacation in Lowry. I haven’t talked to her in months. At first it was because I was mad at her. Then it seemed easier to cut her off, since she’s still part of Seth’s life and I don’t want to be tempted. Still, I miss her.
Pretty shitty.
:(
How about you? How’s the tour going?
Not the same without you.
Wish I was there.
Everyone misses you.
Ditto.
Seth misses you too. He wants you to know he’s sorry.
My breath hitches. There’s no way in hell Sabrina would ever mention Seth to me, and especially not like that. He’s a dirty word as far as she’s concerned. She stays in the band because she loves the music, but she’s warned me again and again I need to get away from him.
Seth?
I wait, drumming my knuckles, my heart beating faster, my knees bouncing up and down underneath my desk. Is he using Sabrina’s account to contact me? Does she know he’s doing it?
I miss you, baby.
I stare at the screen until my vision blurs. When I left Seth, I had to cut out internal organs, like you would an arm with gangrene. He’s poison, and I know that. But I still miss him. He was my first and my only. He nurtured the artist in me, made me feel things I’ve never felt before or since. He made me cool and accepted. For three years he was my whole world.
He also got me hooked on pain pills, embarrassed me in front of our friends for fun, and pressured me to do things I didn’t want to do. Sometimes he got violent.
I can’t…, I start to type.
Can’t what?
I can’t talk to him, can’t see him, can’t listen to his music or any other music that reminds me of him, can’t look at old pictures or movies. I can’t even wear my own clothes without thinking of something we did together when I last wore them, which is why I only wear black now. My room is a mausoleum because his fingerprints are on every goddamned thing I own. I can’t think about the past three years of my life, because he’s so wrapped up in everything I did and everything I am.
I can’t anything with him. I delete the words and start over.
Tell Sabrina and the band I say hey.
Don’t go. I just want to talk.
I type nothing, just sit there and stare at the screen, waiting for I have no idea what. My next instruction? I’ve already made up my mind it’s over between us, so why am I giving him an opening?
Come to my show. I need to see you. They can’t keep you locked away in a tower forever.
He includes a link, and against my better judgment, I click it. It opens a new screen with a single ticket to Petty Crime, their Austin show, the one Berlin invited me to. My name is already on the ticket.
I sign out of Facebook, determined to never open it again. It isn’t safe for me. Seth took that away from me. My friends, my school, and Austin too. It isn’t my parents who locked me away in this tower.
It’s him.