Chapter 11

Jason's Point of View

My footsteps hurt as they pound against the pavement; dirty, old converse aren't the best shoes to run in. It's almost better that it hurts, though, because it takes my attention away from the horrible thoughts swarming around my head. I run fast and far, with no regard to where I'm going. I focus only on my heavy breaths, my lungs and the way they feel like they might burst, and the pain that shoots up my shins every time I take another step.

I run and run until I can't go any farther. When I stop, I find myself in an old alleyway behind a convenience store. I slide down against the brick wall, breathing hard.

What am I doing here? What am I doing? I shouldn't have left Nico alone with people he's not comfortable with, especially not in the state he's in. I should be there for him. He's the one who needs me. But it's gotten to be too much. I'm always there to let him cry on me, to remind him to breath. I'm there to clean him up when he hurts himself. When I'm not with him, I'm worrying about him. If I'm not too busy worrying about my mother, that is. I never even sleep anymore, because what if something bad happens? What if he needs me and I'm not there? What if he's counting on me and there's nothing I can do?

I feel as though my entire body is made up of worry. Worry and fear. And it makes me angry. I'm angry that Nico won't let anybody but me help him. I'm just a kid. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm angry that he's so careless with his own life. Doesn't he know how many people do care about him? All of that doesn't mean anything, though, if he's not willing to help himself. There's only so much I can do, even though I want to do everything for him. I want to give him the world, but all I have is me. I'm angry that that doesn't seem to be enough.

I stand up, shaking, and turn around. I rest my forehead against the wall.

Then I bring my first up and slam it against the bricks. I punch them again, and again, and again, even after my knuckles start to bleed. Anger continues to build up inside of me, but each time I bring my fist to the wall, I feel even the slightest bit of relief. I wonder if this is what it feels like for Nico, when he brings that blade to his skin. I'm about to slam the wall again when someone shouts my name.

I turn and see Reyna walking towards me. Her car is parked along the sidewalk.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, hiding my knuckle behind my back.

"By all means," she begins, "carry on. You're angry. Get it all out."

I look at her, confused. She looks serious. I don't do what she says though. Instead, I shrink back down against the wall. She sits down next to me.

"You know you're not alone in this, right?" Piper and I are here to help you help him."

Something about the way her eyes bore into me gets to me, and I finally lose it. I break down. I cry, for the first time in years. She puts her arm around my shoulder and lets me.

"I've been taking care of people my whole life," I begin. "I was ten when my dad left me alone with an anorexic and suicidal mother. Ten years old."

"You didn't deserve that. Your dad is a piece of shit, isn't that what you called him when you told us about him?"

"That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," I say, sniffling. I wipe my eyes. "I was always so sensitive as a kid. When he left, I couldn't be anymore. I h ad to- to put on this shell, to harden myself, because what other choice did I have? My mom cried enough for the both of us."

She rubs circles on my back but doesn't say anything. She wants me to keep going. Surprisingly, I realize that I want to keep going. I need to say all of the things I've never said before.

"Then Piper started to, you know. God, I was so scared. I thought she would end up like my mom, a grown woman relying on a thirteen year old kid. I- shit," I say. Tears begin to work their way down my cheeks again.

"Piper's okay now," Reyna says. "She's good. Thanks to you."

"I know," I nod. "But Nico's not. It was- when I went over, to work on our project. He was really freaked out the whole time, you know? Social anxiety, I guess. All he knew about me was that I play football, like Dylan, like all of the other assholes at our school."

"Oh, come on," she says. "You're not an asshole. Well not that big of one," she smiles.

I don't. "I knew they were picking on him, the other guys. I never said anything. I should have stopped them. I should have- I should have known."

She shakes her head. "Don't blame yourself for not being able to read his mind."

"I still should have done something. He cut himself, when I was there, you know. I freaked him out so much that he went to the bathroom and cut himself."

"That's not your fault."

"Isn't it?" I laugh.

"No," she says firmly. "I can't say that you shouldn't have stopped them from picking on him. Everyone else should have, too. I can say that you should forgive yourself. Nico forgave you a long time ago."

I close my eyes. "I know he did. I'm just not sure I deserve it."

Her voice suddenly hardens. "Everybody deserves forgiveness."

"I-"

"No," she cuts me off. "You deserve forgiveness. And you've helped him more than anyone else has been able to. But I'll tell you what. Tomorrow we're going over to his house, and we're going to tell his parents."

"What?" I say.

"We're going to tell them what he's doing, and they're going to get him real help. He'll get better, and you can support him through it, but you don't have to carry all of his weight."

"But-"

"Don't argue. If you won't tell, I'll do it myself. You know it needs to be done."

I meet her eyes, and gratitude washes over me. I never thought I'd feel so grateful to have someone else make a decision for me. I just can't deal with any more responsibility. I nod. "Okay."

She smiles at me. "Come on, we should go back."

She starts to stand up, but I say, "Reyna, wait."

She sits back down, looking expectantly at me.

"Just. Thank you."

She smiles again and ruffles my hair. "Come on."

The drive back to my house is quiet. I stare out the window the whole time, just thinking. Clouds have moved in front of the sun and it looks like it might rain soon. I'm not surprised; all it ever does is rain.

When we get back to the house, Reyna squeezes arm as we walk up the driveway. She tells me that it's going to be okay one more time, and I believe her.

When we walk in, Piper and my mom are sitting at the table together and laughing at something. Just leave it to Piper to make anyone feel at ease. She's eating a grilled cheese sandwich, given she wouldn't go near that taco meat with a ten foot pole. My mom's drinking a cup of tea.

"How's Nico?" I ask.

"Sleeping," Piper replies. "We gave him some Ibuprofen, too."

"Good," I say.

"How are you?" she asks, eyeing my red knuckles.

"I'm good,' I say.

She gives me a look that says, "We'll talk later".

Reyna joins them at the table, but I don't. I tell them that I'm going to check on Nico and disappear down the hallway.

Even though it's still afternoon, the room is dark; the blinds are shut and the lights are off. I don't turn them on and I tiptoe in as quietly as I can, but Nico's eyes still open when I walk in.

"Hey," he croaks.

"Hey. I was just making sure that you're okay. Go back to sleep."

He turns on his side and props his arm up on his elbow. Well, he tries to. From the look of it, the movement hurt his arm. He groans and flops down on his back.

"Is the sky blue?"

"Well, actually, it only-"

"Jason," he cuts me off, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Not now."

I smile back. "Right. Sorry. Just- get some sleep." I turn to leave.

"Wait," he says.

"Yeah?"

"Can you- will you stay with me?"

He looks so vulnerable, and sad, and adorable, that I couldn't possibly say no.

"Yeah," I reply. "Of course."

I move to sit in the chair that's still next to the bed, but as I do, he scoots over to the far side of the bed, making room for me to lay with him.

I eye him questioningly, and he pulls back the covers so that I can get under them. I do. He lifts himself up and repositions himself so that he's lying halfway on top of me, his head resting against my chest. I curl my arm around him.

"You never told me about your mom," he says. "Why not?"

"It just never felt like the right time," I respond. In reality, I don't know why I didn't tell him. Maybe I thought he couldn't handle it, or that he wouldn't care. Honestly, though, I think I was just afraid. Piper and Reyna were the only ones who knew about her. I'm not used to talking about it.

"I like her," he says.

He drifts off shortly after that, looking more content than I've ever seen him.

I fall asleep to the rhythm of his chest rising and falling like the tide.

We're awoken a few hours later when Nico's phone rings.

Confused and not quite away yet, he fumbles with it before answering it.

"Percy?" he asks.

I can just barely hear Percy on the other side. The relief in his voice is audible. "Where are you?"

"Oh. Um- I'm at Jason's house.

"Jason's house? What are you doing over there?"

"We're just, you know, hanging out."

"You could have told me," Percy says. "I just got home; I've been freaking out. I had no idea where you were, man."

"I'm sorry," Nico says sincerely. "I was just about to leave. I'll come home now."

"Okay," Percy replies. "See you then."

Nico hangs up and looks at me with wide eyes. "I think I'm in trouble."

"It'll be fine," I say as I stand up. "No big deal."

"Nico sits up all the way. "He found out."

"Found out what?"

"About me. The other day. He found – he found one of my blades."

I wheel around to look at him. "What did he say? Did he tell your parents?"

"Fortunately, no. I convinced him not to. For now, at least. I told him- I told him I would tell."

"Are you going to?"

"I- I don't know. I have no idea what I'm going to do." He's completely lost the look of contentment he had when he was asleep, and looks nervous and on edge again. As usual.

He stands up, stretching his arms but wincing in pain as he does. "Can I- you know, borrow a sweatshirt? I don't want Percy to see these…"

I nod, stepping towards my closet. I pull out a plain black one because it's the smallest one I own. Of course, it's still huge on him.

We exit my room and walk down the hall to find my mom sitting alone on the couch, mindlessly watching TV.

"Where did Piper and Reyna go?" I inquire.

"They went home about an hour ago," she says. "Do you need to get home, Nico?"

It surprises me that she actually addresses him instead of just talking through me. I think it surprises him, too, but he nods.

"You can take the car, Jason. Reyna told me he's only around the corner."

"Seriously?" I ask. She nods.

I don't have my license, or my permit, for that matter, because driving gives my mom a lot of anxiety, and I guess she doesn't like the idea of me behind the wheel, either. We have an old '92 Lexus sitting around in our garage, though, and I've driven it a few times.

I grab the keys off the counter. Nico follows me through a door on the side of the house that leads to the garage. I push the unlock button on the keys. Then I walk around to the passenger side and open the door for Nico.

Once we're in, I say," You better put your seatbelt on. I don't have a license."

He looks alarmed, but doesn't say anything. I laugh. "Don't worry. I haven't killed anyone yet.

For some reason, that doesn't do much to abate his worry.

I start the car and pull out of the driveway. Of course, it's raining again.

"Can I ask you something?" I say as we turn off my street.

"Yeah," he says, though his voice is small and he looks like he wants to say no.

"Why did you do it?"

"Do 'it'?"

"You know what I mean. Why did you do this to yourself?"

"Oh," he says. "Um- I don't like this question."

I lose my temper a little bit. "Seriously? Don't you think that after everything, I deserve at least that much?"

He starts to cry again, and doesn't answer. Shit. Another car drives by and its headlights illuminate the raindrops on the windshield, making them sparkle like diamonds. The light washes over Nico's face, highlighting the hurt written all over his face, and it's all my fault. Again.

"Look- I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry. Please don't cry. I just really- I care about you a lot. I hate seeing you like this."

"I'm ashamed," he says suddenly and loudly. "Is that what you want to hear?" I'm ashamed."

"Err- What?"

"You don't understand what it's like, being like this. Like me. You've only ever been on the outside. You don't understand what it's like to have- to have something so… wrong with you." He's yelling now, and his cheeks are turning red.

"There's nothing wrong with-"

"Don't go there, please. There's a lot wrong with me," he says as we turn onto his street.

"Well I don't care!" I shout as his house comes into view. We park along the sidewalk and I turn the car off. We're both breathing heavily, and I feel my anger from earlier returning."

"I don't care," I repeat, my voice barely a whisper. "Yes, I have spent my entire life on the outside of this. I will never understand what it's like to be on the inside. But you know what people on the inside of it never understand? What they're doing to the people around them. How much they're hurting them."

He doesn't respond.

"I love, you, Nico."

The world around us stops, and for a moment, for an infinity, nothing else is real. We are all that matters.

But then he takes off his seatbelt, opens the car door, climbs out, and slams the door behind him. Then he runs.

All he ever does is run.

This time, I don't follow.