Oct 10, 2013 - [8:22 pm]
Blackwell Academy
Arcadia Bay, Oregon

"H-hey, Nathan."

"Hey," he responds, standing barely ten feet away, directly between me and the door. "Seriously, you're really pale. You haven't been smoking Bowers' cheap weed again, have you?"

"No," I answer, too quickly. "Never gonna touch that crap again."

"Cool." He's eyeing me like he should be the nervous one. Pointing to the vending machine that had kept me from seeing him, he asks, "You want something?"

Shit. What do I say? If I say no, will that set him off? I'm not about to get murdered over a soft drink. "Uh...root beer?"

"You got it." He feeds another dollar into the machine, and a few seconds later he's holding the can out. I take it gingerly from his hand.

"Thanks."

I open the can and take a slow sip, then another, and my fear starts to fade. Nathan doesn't look dangerous or unhinged. He just looks like Nathan, obviously concerned for me but otherwise normal. And as I watch him, a thought very slowly bubbles to the surface.

What if they're wrong about him?

He can't be the monster Max says he is. She doesn't know what he's actually going through. How his family (if the word even applies) treats him. I know him, and I know Max has got it wrong. Even Future-Me has it wrong. Losing everyone must've messed with her head. She was just looking for someone to blame and poor Nathan wasn't there to defend himself.

What if the entire image they have of him is based off his worst few days? Sure, he's been freaking everyone out a little lately, but that's probably his father's fault. He told me about how his father sat him down over the summer and explained how important it was that he distinguish himself in his senior year. The old bastard puts so much pressure on his son. Nathan's accomplishments are never met with 'good job'. It's always 'good, but you could do better'.

And he always does try to do better.

I mean, didn't he call Max? Leave a message apologizing for the things he'd done? What if it's not too late to get through to him? He's trusted and confided in me countless times; I know he'll trust me now. If I could get him to turn himself in, he could get the help he needs. Then he can tell the police all about Jefferson.

I wouldn't have to get drugged and kidnapped. I'd be safe, because I know Nathan better than anyone. I'm the closest friend he has, especially since Samantha's family moved to Sacramento.

I know Nathan isn't beyond redemption.

"It's me, isn't it?" Nathan's voice cuts into my thoughts.

"Huh?"

"I said it's me. I'm the reason you're freaking." He sighs, gazing down at his own drink. "It's fine. I get it. I'm such a stress case these days. I keep losing it on people for no reason, and I always feel like such an asshole after."

"It's not..." I hesitate. I really shouldn't lie to him. "A little bit, yeah."

"Yeah," he echoes. "I'm so sorry, Vic. I...I've been having kind of a rough time lately. I know I shouldn't be taking it out on everyone else."

"I could tell." I hesitate. "Nathan, you know you can tell me if you need help, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean if you'd gotten involved in something bad and were in over your head? Or if you'd, you know, done something really bad to somebody? Maybe without meaning to?"

"I...uh...I don't know what you're talking about."

He looks really cagey all of a sudden. I should back off a little. "I'm not talking about anything in particular. Just in general, you know? I'd be there to help you. And you can trust me, no matter what."

"I know," he relaxes a little. "We go way back, right?"

"Right. Way back." Far enough back that I can tell his walls are up now. Damn it. I rushed into it. I need a way to calm him down, and I don't think the usual methods – vodka and weed – are the best idea right now. Guess we'll have to do things the old-fashioned way.

As casually as I can, I ask, "So, are you headed to the party soon?"

"No." If anything, I just made his mood worse. "That Caulfield bitch got me suspended, remember?"

Stupid! Suspended means no school events, which means no party. I think for a second, then point to one of the common room couches nearby. "I've got some time before I'm expected to be fashionably late. Think you've got time to talk? I mean, if you can fit me into your schedule."

He smiles a little. Success! "I think I can find some room."

Okay, reality check. What I'm doing right now is incredibly, stupidly dangerous. It flies right in the face of everything Max and Future me told me to do...but it's Nathan. He's the next best thing I have to a brother, and if there's even the slightest chance he can still be saved, I have to try. I can't just abandon him when he needs my help the most.

I'm not a complete idiot, though. It's not like we're going to go back to his room or anything. We're in the common area. Taylor is, like, twenty feet away. If anything happens I'll just scream as loud as I can. Even so, I still pick the couch that faces the exit, I don't settle completely into it, and once we're sitting down I slowly and subtly take my shoes off.

The moment I do, he seems to relax even more. Typical. Boys never consider that a girl might be faster without her shoes than with them. Running in stocking feet won't be fun, if it comes to that, but it'll be a hell of a lot better than trying to run in heels.

"So," he begins, relaxing back into the couch. At least, as much as Nathan ever relaxes into anything. Even at his most chill, he always has kind of a twitchy energy around him. "What did you want to talk about?"

Good fucking question. I hadn't really thought this far ahead. I need to think of a way to take his mind away from Jefferson and Rachel and all the shit he's been through. Something that'll get him to loosen up and shows him that he can trust me. And if I expect Nathan to trust me, he needs to think that I trust him - even if I absolutely don't.

There's really only one way I can think of to make that happen.

"It's...I...can I tell you something?"

"Of course," he says, without hesitation. "You can tell me anything."

"It's private, though. You can't tell anyone."

"I get it. Come on, Vic. Who do you think you're talking to?"

I really wish I knew.

"Okay. So, here's the thing..." I trail off.

"Is the thing awkward silence? 'Cause that's what I'm getting."

"No. It's...uh...I'm..."

"You're...?"

"Just gimme a fucking second, will you?"

"Okay, okay," he leans back, raising his hands. "Take your time. Not like I've got anywhere to be."

"The thing is that I...I'm..." This is stupidly hard, but I need to do it. "I'm...gay."

"...you are?"

I nod slowly, my mouth suddenly bone dry. "Yes, I am."

"Huh."

I wait for him to say more, but he just looks calmly back at me. "That's it? That's all you've got to say?"

"Yeah?" He shrugs. "I mean, I was already, like, sixty percent sure you were gay, anyway. Well, I actually thought you were bi, but that's basically the same thing."

It's nowhere fucking near the same thing, but this isn't the time to smack some wokeness into him. "The fuck you did."

"Come on, Vic." He gives me a serious look. "No one goes that stiff-necked around Dana Ward if they aren't into girls."

"I am not into Dana Ward!"

He rolls his eyes. "Everyone is into Dana Ward, Vic. I mean, I bet even Harris has thought about it at least once. Taylor's definitely slowed down a few times to follow her up the stairs."

"And just what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Uh..." He blinks, surprised. "So she could stare at Dana's ass on the way up? I kinda figured that was obv-"

"Not that, dumbass." I growl, reaching out to smack his shoulder. "Why would Taylor do that?"

"Because..." he stops, eyeing me for a long moment. "Wait, are you into Taylor?"

"What? No!" The answer is basically a reflex.

"You are! Holy fuck!" he cackles. "Seriously? You like Taylor?"

"I...so what if I do?" I ask, sharply. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No, it's not..." He glances up the stairs. "I probably shouldn't say anything."

"But we both know you're going to anyway, so..."

"You know me so well." He glances up the stairs again and I turn to follow his gaze. What the hell is he looking at? I'm about to ask when he leans close to whisper, "Taylor's into you, too. Like, way into you."

"What?" I almost shout, glancing up once more. It's too far for Taylor to have heard, right? Lowering my voice, I turn to ask, "Since when? How do you know? Did she say something? What did she say?"

"Chill, Vic," he laughs. "She didn't say anything. I just noticed her looking at you funny one day and kept an eye out for it after that. Pretty sure she's had a huge fucking chick-boner for you since, like, last spring at least."

"Really? Are you..." I peer at him. "You better not be messing with me on this, Nathan."

"I'm not." He lifts his free hand. "Scout's honor."

"You were never a Scout."

"You know what I mean." He raises his drink. "Anyway, to Victoria, the gayest gay at Blackwell."

I give him a flat look. "I'm not that gay, asshole."

"Not with that attitude." He says, mirroring my expression. "And since when are you satisfied with second place?"

"I..." Okay, so he's not exactly wrong about that. "Whatever."

"There you are." Laughing, he very slowly reaches over to lightly tap his soda can against mine. It's like he knows I'm nervous and he's trying to show me that I'm safe with him. I knew it. I knew my Nathan was still in there.

"Fine. I will accept the title of gayest gay," I reach to tap his can in return, and he grins, taking a long sip. I hesitate for a half-second, then silently berate myself for being paranoid. The can was still sealed when he gave it to me, and it's been in my hand and held close this whole time. Before he can notice, I raise the can to my lips. I only meant to take a small sip, but the second the root beer hits my still-dry tongue I start drinking like a dying woman in a desert. I've finished most of the can before I notice him quietly laughing at me.

Embarrassed, I lower the mostly empty soda can back to my lap.

"Thirsty?"

"Shut up."

"Because you seem pretty thirsty."

"Shut up!"

"You should go find Taylor," he suggests, smirking. "See if she's as thirsty as you are."

"Cut it the fuck out!" I laugh. I can't help it. Nathan's always been able to make me laugh, no matter how down I am.

He laughs right along with me. "So, you feel better with all that out in the open?"

This is the Nathan I wish more people could see. A good, sweet, supportive friend with an asshole for a father, a drunk for a mother, and a bitch of a sister who fucked off and left him behind the second she turned 18.

"Yeah." I nod, as a knot in my stomach I'd been barely aware of starts to loosen. It's one thing to suspect someone likes you, but another thing entirely to know it for a fact. "I really do."

"I'm glad to hear it." He looks down for a few seconds. "Hey...what did you mean before? About being there for me if I did something bad?"

"Oh...uh...I just meant..." Shit. Who knows what he'll do if I mention Rachel Amber? There's got to be a way to ease into this. "You know what happened to Kate Marsh at that party."

"What about it?"

Okay. I need to tread lightly here. "Don't you think it was kinda weird that she got so hammered so fast?"

He shrugs. "I guess. I just figured she'd never partied before and had a shitty tolerance for booze."

"Yeah, but I only saw her have one drink."

"Watching her that close, were you?" He smirks. "Should Taylor be jealous?"

Part of me wants to slap him for that, but I can tell when he's trying to deflect. "I'm just saying, I..."

I know you drugged her and dragged her down to some bunker!

"...think someone might've slipped something into it."

His eyes narrow. "Are you sayi-"

"I'm not accusing you!" I say, quickly. "I just think someone might have."

"Someone," he echoes, dubiously.

I'm trying to think of a way to recover, but I'm having trouble collecting my thoughts. I guess sitting across from a murderer will do that to you. "It's...it's like what you were saying about her having a low tolerance. Maybe someone just wanted to help her loosen up and dropped some E in her drink, but it hit her super hard because she's never done it before."

He relaxes, just the tiniest bit. "Yeah?"

"Totally! Maybe they didn't even mean to give her as much as they did. Or they tried to guess the right amount but used too much. That can happen, right? Accidentally giving someone too much of something?"

"I guess."

I think it's working. He's opening up. "Like, it'd probably be hard to guess the right amount. Doctors go to school for that kind of stuff, so you couldn't really blame a regular person for a simple mistake, could you? Even if things go bad, it's not like they did it on purpose. Accidentally killing someone wouldn't make you a murderer, would it?"

Holy fuck, what in the fuck did I just say?! Did I seriously just call Nathan a murderer to his face?!

"I mean, not you." I try to recover, pathetically. "Just a person."

He doesn't respond. He doesn't move or say a word for a long, tense moment. I feel like I should be scared right now. I feel like I should probably be making a break for the door, but I'm not going to. I'm cool. I'm calm. I've got this.

Then, finally, he sighs. "Do you really believe that?"

Oh my god, I did it. I got through to him. "Yeah, I really do."

"What if..." he hesitates. "What if it had been me? What if I'd done that? Or...y'know...something like it? Accidentally done something terrible, even though it was for a good reason?"

"I'd understand. And I'd forgive you," I lie, because I don't think 'And then I'd get you locked up in a mental hospital' would really play right now.

"Really?"

I nod. I'm so relieved that I'm practically giddy, and I don't want to open my mouth and accidentally laugh. That'd really ruin the moment.

"Wow. That's...wow. Hearing you say that is such a relief. I...I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to..." He gestures to me. "But hearing you say that you'd understand? And that you'd forgive me? That changes everything."

I can see the relief in his entire body. It's like this huge burden has been lifted off his shoulders, and he looks lighter and happier than he's been in months. I did that. I'm helping him, and it feels amazing.

"You're a good friend, Vic," he continues, smiling as he tilts his head toward the steps. "Taylor's a lucky girl."

"You really think so?" I glance upstairs again. I kinda want to go talk to her right now. I kinda want to kiss her.

"Definitely. You're one-of-a-kind."

No, I really want to kiss her.

I really want her.

Maybe I could just go up for a minute...or two...or ten. I could do that and still make it to the party in time, right?

I wonder if she's still wearing that t-shirt? She probably is.

Ooh...maybe she's not. Maybe she's not wearing a shirt at all. Maybe she's not wearing anything at all. I wonder what she'd put on to answer the door? Her PJs? A towel? A short little silk bathrobe that's barely tied up?

Does Taylor even own a short silk bathrobe? If she doesn't I'm totally getting her one.

I bet she'd be willing to model a few for me.

Should I go find out? I should go find out.

I go to stand up, my mind whirling with images of my sexy Sweet-T in (and out of) a cute little silk kimono, and find my legs feel kind of wobbly. Dropping back down to the couch, I glare at them and try to figure out why they're being such a pair of fucking cockblocks. I go to slap some sense into one of them, and that's when I notice the tingling numbness that's been creeping into my limbs.

That's (really, really bad) kinda weird.

Confused, I turn to Nathan and the sudden head motion sends the room tilting lazily to the side. Am I falling? I think I'm falling. He lunges forward, not to catch me but to grab the near empty can before it can slip from my fingers. Standing as I slump backward; he carefully lifts my feet up onto the couch.

What is this? Am I drunk? Was I drinking? I don't think I was, but it's hard to focus. I'm so dizzy.

As my vision starts to get blurry, I see him pull a small orange prescription bottle from his pocket, briefly glance at the label, then stuff it back out of sight. That's important. I should be concerned about that.

"It's alright, Victoria," he says, softly, leaning over me. "Just relax."

I try to ask him what's happening, but it feels like the words get lost somewhere between my brain and mouth. My whole body feels too heavy.

"You don't need to be afraid. I won't let you get hurt. You'll understand afterward, I promise. Just like you said you would." I can barely feel his fingers brush through my hair as my eyelids start to get heavy. "You're going to be so beautiful."

It's getting really hard to keep my eyes open, and I'm starting to think that a quick nap wouldn't be the worst thing in the world night now. Nathan seems to agree, gently laying a blanket over me.

He looks really happy, and his smile is the last thing I see before he lifts the blanket to cover my face.

I understand if you're scared, Victoria. I was scared, too. Life never prepared us for anything like this. But you're strong, too. You have no idea how strong you are. I know you're going to get through this, because I know you're tougher than anything the world can throw at you.

I believe in you. Good luck.

You(rs) Truly,
Victoria Maribeth Chase
October 2015