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The day goes by very slowly. It's very quiet, very long, and very lonely. My phone remains silent the entire time, something that usually only happens when Wendy breaks up with me. But then, maybe that is what happened; all Wendy had asked me to do was leave, yet it feels like she'd broken up with me, implicatively, however silently she had done it….
And what makes it worse is that it feels like Kyle had broken up with me too. Though I should probably steer clear from that analogy, granted along that theory I was the one who "broke up" with him, it feels just the same between him and me as it does between Wendy and me. But the circumstances are so, so different, yet… yet they're producing the same result.
Normally when Wendy breaks up with me I run to Kyle. Normally when I have feuds with Kyle I spend more time with Wendy. But at the same time…? They don't really cancel each other out, because otherwise things would be okay and I wouldn't have had to spend the day in solitude with nothing to do. The both of them kinda… doubled the effect.
With all the free time on my hands I had managed to attain a more rational conscience once more. Perhaps a little too late, but better now that later. Never before had I wanted to walk Sparky so many times in a single period of time, and with all the time I had to myself I had given him a walk at least three times. It might've been four. I don't remember.
There were several things I had decided in the amount of time I had had for reflection. First, none of this is Kyle's fault. Between moments of reasoning and pure confusion, I had come to the conclusion that it was my own reactions and thoughts that caused what I did to Wendy, and that what I did was probably not Kyle's intention. And though I badly wanted someone else to put the blame on, someone else to take the burden of these consequences off of me… they were truly my own.
Second, I need to go about apologizing to Wendy again. It sucks as it is to not have Kyle there to ask for help when I need it. I need Wendy more than ever. I need her. And maybe not under the same light that caused the same incident earlier on in the day, but I need her to be the someone I know I can rely on, someone I know who'll be there for me…. I wouldn't want to have this as our final breakup.
Third, I should probably do something to fix my relationship with Kyle. But even with that resolution in mind, I don't know what's going to happen between Kyle and me now. There's definitely no way things are going to be the same. I mean, it's not just a drunken mistake anymore. It's out there. Kyle wants me. And though that still bothers me somewhat, I probably shouldn't be letting something like his orientation get in the way of our friendship.
And finally, I should probably pay more attention to the things around me. Because, somehow, I don't think Kyle began liking me overnight. And I'm pretty sure whenever Wendy gets angry at me it isn't just because she can. But even with a resolve to start noticing things, it's like I just happen to keep missing the important things around me….
The clock reads roughly midnight, now. I remain seated at my bed, looking around my room for distractions, looking for something to do. I would've thought I'd be able to sleep, granted how early I had woken up—but for some reason I can't. I don't feel tired; maybe it's because I've barely done anything all day, because I've stayed locked in my room for practically the entire course of the day, since I was sent home from Wendy's house.
My eyes fall upon the almost-blank wall of my room. It's the wall I've reserved for pictures of my friends, yet it's still devoid of anything except for two particular photos: one of Wendy, one of Kyle.
It's like they're mocking me. They're smiling at me, eyes full of happiness—or, in Kyle's case, red. I'm in neither of those photos, as I had been the one to take the pictures… yet… yet…. The photos alone seem as if they're supposed to be a painful reminder of how things were not even a day ago, how I had been satisfied and content with the both of them, how they would probably still be smiling at me that way if things hadn't….
I turn away and look at my computer, but my mind is still on their faces. Wendy… her silky black hair, her pretty eyes, that smile, her laugh…. Then there's Kyle, his… no. I can't describe him, I shouldn't describe him; I shouldn't put him at the same level as Wendy. I can only note his hair, his eyes, how incredibly Jewish he can be at times….
And suddenly it feels like something clicks. Thinking about Kyle, looking at the computer…. Then a second time and it's then when I make the connection: Kyle's email.
But do I really want to see what's in it, now? Hasn't he already told me his feelings?—isn't that what this was all about? Or was there something still that he hadn't said… would I want to know more…?
He's your friend, I find myself saying inside my head; you should probably give him a chance.
Tap. And so I move forward to the computer and boot it up. But it's almost like I'm mentally preparing myself for what I might read. Whatever happens, no matter what the email says, I won't hold it against Kyle.
Tap. Sparky whimpers. I turn to him, curiously, but he remains silent afterward. Frowning, I return to the computer screen, which happily tells me my computer is still booting up.
Tap. I frown a second time. That noise…. Sparky's whimpering yet again, and curiously I get up from my chair. The tapping sound's coming from the window… and though it's probably just some bird, I decide to check it out.
I open the window. No bird. Nothing.
"Down here," mutters a familiar voice. Straining my eyes, I peer into the darkness below me, though I don't see much. I know someone's there—I can barely make out an outline—but by the roundness of the figure's head I think it's Kenny… and now that I think about it, it sounds like him, too.
"Ken?"
"…yeah." He sounds very weak. It might just be he's tired, though… or maybe still hung over from the alcohol. But granted it's this long after he had been drunk…. "This is very… Romeo and Juliet, don't you think?"
He grunts. "Stan… you think I could come up?"
"Here?" I ask to clarify, and he nods. "Uh… sure… I'll go get the door." I frown, curious as to why Kenny wants to see me at this time of night, but I quickly shrug it off. Sparky looks at me longingly—he obviously wants to come with me—but I ignore him and unlock my door, tiptoeing silently down the hall. I'm not sure if everyone's asleep yet, but… I don't wanna take that risk.
It isn't long before I'm at the door. Sure enough, when I unlock it and open it, I find Kenny standing in front of me. Yet he looks fucking terrible; he's supporting his stomach, almost doubling over, and from what I can tell he's sporting a black eye. And Kenny, the bastard; he just smiles when he sees me, even raising his hand to wave a hello, almost as if nothing had happened to him.
"Shit, Ken…." Kenny puts a finger to his lips and steps inside. I shut the door quietly behind him. "You… you look…."
"Terrible," he finishes, and I nod. "You think I could stay in your room for a while?"
I nod profusely. "Sure, dude, but… you sure I'm the one to be running to?" I take in a breath. "Maybe I should call—"
"No," he whispers harshly, the blues of his eyes gleaming with the night's light. It only occurs to me how dark of a room we're standing in. "I'll… I'll explain everything later…." He makes a motion to the stairs, but it's only after several seconds when I realize he probably can't even go up the flight of stairs without some help. I quickly dart forward to help him, and it takes about a few minutes before we're in the hallway toward my room.
I look to Kenny's limping form next to me and frown. He doesn't' belong here; he really doesn't. I dunno if I could even give him moral support, as I seem to have fucked up every one of my relationships so far. But even if I could support him, I wouldn't be any help at all to his injuries. My knowledge really isn't that great in that area… and I doubt he'd want me to wake my mom to help him.
He takes a seat on the bed once we're in the room. I make sure to close and lock the door so we're not interrupted—at least, I think that's the way he wants it. And I'm sure if he weren't in this state and instead in his perverted mood he'd be agreeing with me.
"What… what happened?" He looks at me from the corner of his eye, and I recognize that look immediately: It's the same one Kyle gave me however long ago it was. But if Kenny was hurting now… had Kyle been hurting back then? But more importantly… had I caused that?
Kenny mumbles something under his breath but I don't quite catch what he says, so I ask him to repeat. "They're…." He bites his lip and looks straight to the floor; I walk carefully to his side and take a seat next to him, placing an arm around his trembling form. "They're… still there, Stan…."
"Who?" I ask, and though I do have some ideas I don't want to make suggestions.
"My sister… Kevin… they're all… they're all still there… with him." He only just breathes the last word, raising his hand to the swelling around his eye. Him…? Unless he's referring to his dad…?
Kenny affirms my statement. "Yeah… him."
"Did he…?" I pause to notion to his bruises. "Did he do… that?" Kenny pauses for a moment, looking around my room. I'm not sure what he's looking for—maybe in case someone could hear him?—but after realizing that Sparky's our only eavesdropper he merely nods his head.
"It's my fault," he mutters, looking to the ground. And though I try telling him it isn't, he merely repeats it to himself again. "Couldn't keep my damn mouth shut…."
I don't interrupt this time. Instead I rub his back encouragingly, not too hard in case something's hurting back there. I think he flashes me a weak smile for my effort, but instead it looks like he's got diarrhea….
It's after a little bit when he continues. "I had to go and… I should've…."
"Take your time," I tell him; "you don't even have to tell me now if you don't want."
"I… I asked him why he's complaining about… money, food… if he doesn't even have a job of his own…." He gulped, leaning in to me. "And… and he hit me… but I deserved it—"
"No you didn't."
"Yes I did, Stan, I spoke out of line…." Kenny trembles yet again, this time looking directly at me. His blue eyes are fierce and quite intimidating, yet at the same time they look scared and hurt…. "But it was selfish of me, selfish that I… ran out…."
"Why?" I ask, but immediately I realize it had been a mistake.
"Why?" he challenges before coughing into his hand once more. "I've left my family with the monster, that's why!" There's a silence between us as he takes rest on my lap once more; leave it to me to have asked such a stupid question. But then again, if I fuck up my relationship with Kenny, it wouldn't exactly be the first…. I don't want to ruin this, though. Kenny needs me right now. I already don't have Kyle and Wendy as it is; I need him, too.
"Kenny… how long has he been… you know… hitting you?" I heave a breath after the question, hoping it hadn't been a bad one; but Kenny doesn't seem angry at my asking, so I feel somewhat better.
"For… for a while, Stan, I'm sorry, I should've told you guys, but he… he threatened me, and that's why I don't want to go to the emergency room, because they'll all figure out what's been happening to me, and I don't want that, I really don't, because he'll probably hurt them and I don't want that, they don't even know he's been hitting me, I've been taking all their beatings for them, and I want to protect them and I—"
"Calm down, Ken," I whisper soothingly, patting his back some more. He looks at me for a moment, lost in the middle of his rant, but eventually he nods, returning to my lap. He doesn't speak or move; he just lies there. And I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do, how I'm supposed to act, what I'm supposed to say….
"So… what now…?" Kenny opens his eyes and repositions himself so that he's staring up at me. Somehow I think we both know what's going to happen next, but I'd rather hear it from his mouth instead.
"What… what'd you mean?"
I bite my lip. "Well… you ran out of your house… I'm sure it's not the best of ideas to just prance back in there… or at least not tonight." He shrugs to that, merely looking away without a word. "So… you need a place to stay then, right?"
A pause. "Yeah, I guess…." He looks at me, his face laden with an expression I can't recognize. "You… you don't mind me staying here for the night, then?"
I look at him blankly. "No Ken, I'm gonna force you out of my house and make you sleep on the streets. Of course I'll let you stay over for a bit." He blinks; I probably shouldn't have used sarcasm. But after several moments he nods in acknowledgement, and he stands up from my bed.
"You okay, now?" I ask him, to which he merely nods.
"I'm fine… how about you?"
"Me?" I can only manage to stare. Am I okay? Of course I am… but I don't even know what he's referring to. I mean, if anything that's a question I need to be asking Kenny, since he's the one who's just come out of…. "Why wouldn't I be fine?"
Kenny shrugs. "Kyle mentioned something about you being… I dunno, not in the right state of mind?" Again I'm at a loss of words. Shit. Kenny knows. And suddenly that realization sinks into me, the fact that I've completely forgotten about the weight of this whole deal with Kyle and Wendy, how it seems forever ago, how I haven't even solved the problem yet. And the fact that Kyle's told Kenny… would that mean he'd tell other people, too? Or was that only because he needed someone to vent on, someone to trust….
I lose my train of thought, no longer aware of where it was headed or what I wanted to get out of it. Instead I find Kenny looking at me with a bemused expression, and I can almost see a smile on his face. It's just Kenny being proud, knowing he's right about something….
"He hasn't told me anything too big," Kenny says, noting my expression. "Nothing enough to tell me what's happened. But my first conscious moment today was seeing him with his head cradled in his arms on the kitchen table, so… I asked him what was up."
I gulp. "What'd he say?"
"Feud with you. Nothing else." For some reason hearing that makes me smile, that maybe I really can still trust Kyle, that he really won't go telling the whole world. But then again, what would he be telling the world?—that he's gay and wants to bon….
Kenny coughs into his hand once again. "He doesn't really wanna talk about it, to be honest. Said if anything I should be asking you."
"Me?" Kenny merely nods. How had we gotten from his problems with his abusive dad to my problems with Wendy?—no wait, he doesn't know about that. He and Kyle both only know about the tension between me and Kyle… neither of the two knows about what I… I did to Wendy.
Shit…. I triedraping her. I could get… put in prison for that….
"Wanna talk about it?" I sigh under my breath. If anything I think Kyle's the one who needs to talk about things. I've already spent the entire day talking with myself; Kyle's the one that probably needs it, especially if what Kenny said was true. But then, he probably could've talked it with himself, too….
"Sure."
So I tell him. Almost everything. Nothing about Wendy of course—I think I'm going to keep that to myself for a while—but I tell him everything else. How Kyle had kissed me while he was drunk, how we had had a misunderstanding earlier this morning….
And then it occurs to me….
"Does this have anything to do with that other time you ranted to me about him?" Kenny asks, raising an eyebrow. That other time?—the time when Kyle had been acting oddly, when I had run to Kenny, asking him if I was failing Kyle as a friend. And now that I think about it… it probably was. Hadn't that been around the time he first talked to me about the email he sent me?
The email….
I turn to my computer: It's still on. And maybe back then… he must've been acting like that because he'd thought I'd already read his email… because he thought I knew what he had told me…. And he had every right to, I suppose, because I completely fucked up our friendship when he did get around to telling me….
"Continue," he says, and I frown at him. Maybe it's because he's finally relaxed, but… it kinda feels like I'm the one with the problems now and not him. And though I suppose in reality we both have issues to deal with at the moment, he's not really acting like he's just been beat up.
After he assures me he's fine, I continue on. There isn't much left to tell him, though; I tell how he had somehow ended up apologizing for the kiss, how I had run out… how I had ruined everything….
"How do you know you've ruined things?" he asks, though I have an easy answer for him.
"You told me he wasn't too happy with things…. Besides, I accidentally called him afterward, and he didn't seem like the happiest person alive." I sigh, turning away. Why Kenny had to be the one to play Devil's Advocate…. I think I liked it better when I was the one asking the questions….
Kenny heaves a great sigh, and I get off my bed and seat myself in front of the computer. I pause for several moments, random thoughts fleeting through my conscience; and ultimately I decide to turn it off. "Stan," he mutters, coming to a stop in front of. "As much as I can't thank you enough for letting me stay here—"
"Don't mention it."
"—and as much as I wish I could do something in return, I can't really help you with this." He looks to me, sorrow and pity in his eyes. I wonder; had I been looking at him like that moments before? Though I suppose now's a bad time to be thinking about that…. "That's something you need to do on your own… and I'm sure whatever you end up doing he'll be thankful for it."
"You think so?" I ask, raising my eyebrow in doubt. "He likes me. He fucking handed his heart to me on a silver platter, and the only thing I could do was run away. You think he's gonna just take my hand and accept any form of apology I could give him?"
"How do you know he likes you?" Kenny challenges, his eyes narrowing. I open my mouth to argue back, but my retort dies. Kyle, he… he does like me, right…? But now that I think about it, he probably hasn't even said it in person, yet…. "Granted if he kissed you again he probably does like you, but I'm just saying. Maybe you're looking too much into this."
I grumble; maybe I am. Maybe this really isn't as bad as it seems. Maybe I actuallycould just go up to Kyle and fix things, do the same with Wendy, and simply move on with life and go back to having a girlfriend and a best friend. Maybe life isn't really as dramatic as I'm making it out to be. I just wish life went back to the way it was. Or maybe I could go back to being the oblivious kid who didn't see how people were changing around me. I wish I could go back to treating others without having to think twice, to not have to make sure I don't ruin whatever I have left with my friends….
"Anyway…." He sighs before coughing into his hand once more. "I'm starting to get a little tired. You don't mind if I sleep, do you?"
"No, not at all…." I motion toward the bed. "If you need anything, just ask."
"You can sleep there, if you want," he says, shaking his head. "I don't mind the floor."
"I don't mind, either," I say with a laugh. "Besides, Sparky will love the idea of me on the floor. Might as well." Kenny gives it a shrug before pulling himself under the covers. He flashes me a smile before closing his eyes.
"I'm worried about them," he says to himself, though loud enough so I can hear him. "And though I'm not sure if I'll ever get any sleep from this tonight… I trust your words." He moves his head in my direction and smiles, eyes still closed. "Everything's gonna be fine."
"Yeah… for the both of us."
And then he falls asleep.
The room becomes silent once more. For a few moments I just watch him, looking at his sleeping form as it rises and falls with his breathing. He must be tired, especially since he thought he wouldn't be able to sleep from all the worrying. His body's too worn out… but that means he'll probably be getting nightmares later on.
After a few moments I turn away from him and to my clock: It's almost one in the morning and I'm back to square one, with nothing to do and insomnia flowing through my veins. My eyes scan the room once more, as I had done before, in an attempt to keep me occupied.
Kenny plagues my mind; I still don't know what I'm going to do about him. Though I still think he needs to go to Hell's Pass, I want to respect his want of not going there. But who'll tend to his bruises? What if he's broken something? Would he be okay with my mom checking him out?—would she freak out and bring him to the hospital against his will?
It's too much to think about. With the guilt setting in from earlier today, mixed with the responsibility of bearing Kenny on my shoulders… all I really want to do is sleep. But this damned insomnia is preventing me from doing just that, and all it's making me do is to over-think about things I don't really want….
My eyes fall upon a book near my bed, its red cover shining somewhat from the light in the room. It catches my attention; I walk quietly toward it, ignoring Sparky as he follows me at my feet. I pick it up and stare at it, letting my eyes examine its features. It's really the only thing I can think of doing with it, yet just staring at it triggers memories….
It's been a while since I last wondered about guardian angels. I've never really needed to think about them; I've been content with life as it was, and I've never really needed to question it. Yet now, presented with both boredom and insomnia, the thoughts are quickly entering my head, quickly consuming me with….
Somehow looking at the Bible makes me want to believe in guardian angels all the more. I probably need it right now; hell, Kenny needs a guardian angel. And somehow I realize that if guardian angels do exist, Kenny could probably use his right about now.
I don't know what makes me do it, but…. I find myself coming down to one knee, then two… and suddenly I'm bowing my head, ignoring Sparky's tongue licking my knee….
"To my guardian angel," I mutter quietly, closing my eyes. The whole idea seems rather ludicrous; I'm praying to my guardian angel. But it feels so weird; is it like praying to God? "I… I'm not sure if you exist or anything, but… if you do I'd really like your help. My friend, Kenny, the guy on my bed, also needs your help, so….
"I want you to protect him. I want him to be okay, to make sure he gets through this. I want you to protect his family…. I'd like Kenny to be okay again, to not have to worry about his father and what he's doing…. I want him to be able to trust that his siblings will be okay.
"And finally…." I pause. I wonder if I'm just talking to myself, if anyone will actually hear me, if my prayers will actually be answered. But even if they won't, talking them out seems to do me some good…. "Guide me over the next few days. I really wanna make things right with Wendy and Kyle, and… I don't wanna fu—screw things up again. So yeah, it'd be nice if you could do that, if you exist…."
I open my eyes. Nothing's any different than it was when I had closed my eyes. But I hadn't really been expecting any immediate changes anyway, so….
I drop the Bible on my desk and pace quietly around the room. There's really nothing I can do now except to hope for the best and to hope my guardian angel will look after all of us. Though… I hope I didn't ask him to do too much.
I sigh, finding myself in front of my blank wall again. Two faces are staring at me, each with smiles across their faces. My girlfriend… my best friend… both not in the best terms with me at the moment….
I close my eyes and
take a deep breath.
Suddenly… staring at their faces doesn't
seem so painful anymore.
Posted: November 25th, 2007.
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