I bend over, pressing my forehead to the snow, and cry so hard I can’t breathe. The sounds coming from me are not mine, they’re low and raw and horrible.
“It hurts, Lou,” I sob. “It hurts.” Everywhere. It hurts fucking everywhere. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t move.
“Seth, where are you? Are your parents there? Is there anyone there with you?”
“No... I’m alone.” My voice breaks on a sob. “I’m all alone, Lou!”
“Can you get to the airport? Seth! Can you get to the airport? I’m booking you a ticket.”
76
Lou
I’veneverseenhimlike this. I’ve known Seth for eighteen years. I was there when he was bullied—when they called him names and shoved him around. I was there when they broke into his locker, stole his drawings, and wrote horrible stuff all over them. When they tried to break him. I was there through it all.
And I’ve never seen him like this.
When I picked him up at the airport early yesterday morning, his eyes were hollowed. He was pale, and completely sunken in. Shoulders hunched forward and chin dropped towards his chest.
And when he looked up at me, I think my heart broke, too.
“I fucked up,” he says, lying on my couch under a blanket, like he has for the past day and a half. Last night he slept in my bed, and I held him all night. He couldn’t stop crying.
“I don’t know what to say, Seth.”
“There’s nothing to say. I fucked up. I fucked up everything.” And then his voice breaks, and he pulls the blanket over his face, and cries again.
“Maybe you should turn your phone back on?” I ask him. He’s cross-legged on a chair in my kitchen, resting his chin in one hand. Eyes staring at a spot on the table. Hardly blinking. I made some tea for us, but he hasn’t even sipped it.
“I don’t want to,” he mumbles.
“Because you’re afraid he’s texted? Or called?”
“Because I know he hasn’t.” He starts bouncing his knee, biting his lip. “You wanna know something funny?” he says, looking at me. “I actually thought he felt something for me, too.” He huffs a laugh, before his face twists and tears start streaming down his face.
I heard him crying in the shower before. Sometimes it’s quiet, like at night. He just sniffles, and his shoulders shake. But sometimes, it’s this gut-wrenching sound that I’ve never heard before. Like it’s coming from the deepest depths of him. Like some beast, trying to claw its way out of him.
And I can’t do anything.
I always feel so goddamn helpless when it comes to Seth. I couldn’t stop the bullies in high school, and I can’t take away this pain from him now.
I called my mom when he was in the shower, trying to get some advice or anything.
“I’ve never seen him like this, Mom,” I whispered. “He’s broken.”
“He’s heartbroken,” she said. “Just try and be there for him and—”
“It’s more than a heartbreak. He lost his best friend in the process, too.”
I have to go to work tomorrow. I called in sick today, I didn’t want to leave Seth alone, but I have to go in tomorrow. He’s been here for four days, and he’s barely eaten a thing.
“Will you be okay when I leave for work?”
“Yeah,” he says, chewing the corner of his mouth.
“Maybe you can go outside for a bit, have a look around in the city, or—”
“I’ll be fine, Lou.” He shakes his head. “Don’t worry.”I always worry.
