The Remains Of My Wasted Youth.

To say I hadn't slept well last night would have been an understatement. I'd stayed awake the entire night, my eyes fixed on the ceiling, wondering what morning would bring. My parents hadn't said one word last night at Alex's. They'd stared in shock for a long time, and then had gotten up and walked out. Without me.

I hadn't stayed much longer, because I knew Alex was still fragile and I didn't want to overwhelm him. I'd whispered goodbye to his parents, their shocked eyes following me out the door. They hadn't spoken, either.

As I stumbled down the stairs, I heard the sound of coffee dripping and almost turned around and ran out the back door like the coward I was. But I forced myelf to man up and walked into the kitchen.

My mom was sitting at the table. She didn't acknowledge me as I poured myself a bowl of cereal and sat down across from her.

I ate in silence, barely able to force the soggy food down my throat which was still clogged with the tears that I hadn't been able to shed the night before. I wanted to grieve for everything; my lost brother, my broken, guilt-eaten boyfriend, my stubborn, selfish parents, and mostly, myself. I hadn't been the best person, but I knew that none of us had been right in what we were doing. Not even the Gaskarths were blame-free. They never should have taken Alex away, never should have kept the truth from him for so long. I'm sure that the doctors hadn't advised their leaving the country, but they also hadn't stopped it. If they'd stayed, he'd have remembered earlier and things would have been easier on him. Alex might have hated me ... but at least he wouldn't have hated himself.

The way he'd looked at himself last night had eaten me alive. He blamed himself. He was convinced that everything was his fault and I knew that he'd have to get over it on his own. Nothing that anyone said, even me, was going to help him. He had to fight his own demons now.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs announced the arrival of my father.

He stopped in the doorway and stared at me. "I thought you'd spent the night with the murderer," he said coldly.

"He's not a murderer, Dad!" I said hotly, instantly jumping to me feet. I'd expected some kind of attack this morning, which was why I'd wanted to get out of here before it happened.

"He might as well be," my dad sneered. "He sure didn't try to do anything to stop Kevin from killing himself, did he? If he'd cared, he would never have walked out that door. Or he would have came to us."

I was startled into harsh laughter. "Came to you? What good would that have done? You never would have believed him! You didn't even believe that all of the drugs, that all of the bombs, that everything was Kevin's! You lied to the cops, Dad! Cleaned out his drawers and told them it was a 'science project' gone wrong. He was dead, and you were still covering for him! I'm alive, and you've never even tried to help me once!"

My dad's eyes narrowed. "It's always been about you. You never cared about your brother. If you had, you never would have tried to steal his boyfriend and he'd still be alive. Your last words certainly weren't that of a loving brother."

"Thats not good enough! It's not fair! He always had everything. But this time .. this time he won't! When I'm done, you won't even want him. No one will."

Tears streamed down my face but I held my ground. "I was sixteen! Who isn't selfish and greedy and jealous at sixteen? But I didn't mean anything! I didn't know he was going to die. He was my best friend! He had to be my best friend because my parents didn't give a damn about me. Stop accusing me, because if you knew anything about Kevin at all, you would have known that he wanted you to love me, and when you didn't, he took it upon himself to love me. You're probably the reason he killed himself! You expected too damn much of him and it broke him!"

My mom's face was deathly white. "Enough, boys," she said weakly, but as usual, neither of us listened because she wasn't firm enough.

"Playing the blame game isn't going anywhere," my father said somewhat more calmy. "Zachary, I just want your promise that you're done with that Gaskarth boy. Lets just blame this on him and be a family, all right?"

But I shook my head. "No, Dad, it's not all right. We've never been a family and we're not going to start now. It's not Alex's fault. It's not your fault. It's not mine, either. He was screwed up, okay? Nothing we could say would have changed it. I'm not going to blame you or me, and I'm sure as hell not going to blame Alex."

"And you're still going to see him." My father's voice was too calm now.

"Yes, I'm still going to see him. He needs me, Dad. And I need him. You two, on the other hand ... you've never needed me. And I learned a long time ago not to need you."

My fathers eyes wouldn't meet mine. "I'd like your stuff out by Friday."

I remembered the last time this had happened. As usual, I'd been too scared to leave, and I'd sucked up my pride and apologized. But not this time.

Without saying a word, I walked back upstairs and started mechanically packing things. After a few trips, my room was empty except for the things that I hadn't bought - things I'm sure I could have still taken, like a dresser, a chair, but things that I didn't want. I'd buy more. I'd drop out of school, get a job ... do something.

I slung the last item that belonged to me over my shoulder. It was a beat up backpack that had been Kevin's. It was still covered in the pins and patches that he'd put there. I'd never had the heart to take them off.

I poked my head into the kitchen. "I'm leaving now," I said, and if they were surprised that I'd actually done it, they didn't say anything. My father continued to read his newspaper, and my mom looked at me with sad, sad eyes, but didn't say anything.

I walked slowly out the door, hoping that they'd come running after me, begging me to stay, or at least telling me that they still loved me and that they'd be there for me.

But it didn't happen, and I didn't understand how after a lifetime of disappointment, I still let myself hope.

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I'd wandered around the town all day. I hadn't been able to face going to Alex's and getting rejected by either him or his parents. Last night he'd blamed himself .... but now in the light of day, who knew how he was feeling?

But now it was nearing 7 o'clock and I was starving and cold and afraid of falling asleep behind the wheel. I gave in and turned down Alex's road and parked in his driveway. But once there, my hands started to tremble and I wasn't able to get out. I sat in the drivers seat, watching his house.

After about ten minutes, I had almost dozed off when I heard the passenger door close. I turned and saw Alex sitting beside me, staring at me. A small smile covered his face.

"You should at least lock your door if you plan on napping in your truck," he said. "You never know what creeps will just show up in the passenger seat."

I managed a half hearted smile, and Alex's smile slipped. "Are you okay, babe?" I saw how insecure he was, and I knew that he was worried that I hated him. That I blamed him, the way my parents were determined to make me blame him. I reached out and took his hand in mine.

"My dad kicked me out, Alex," I said softly. "He blames us for everything. More me than you, honestly, because I was his brother and didn't see it coming. They don't see that they're just as much to blame as any of us."

Alex's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Zack. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault."

"No, Alex, it's not. It was bad luck, that's all it was. Even if nothing had happened that day ... he would have done it eventually. Randomly. Just like that. He was sick! He could have killed us, he could have blew up the school, he could have done a lot worse. He was sick, Alex, and nothing we could have done would have changed that."

Alex crawled across the seat and settled into my lap. It was a tight fit, but I was happy to have him pressed against me, reminding me that I was alive.

"My parents told me everything," he said slowly. "About how they panicked after what happened, about how they were scared and didn't think and how sorry they are for taking me away from you. They said that when they told your parents they were moving ... your parents were relieved, but you, you looked heartbroken. They wished that they'd stayed and told me and made things work."

"I hated you for the entire time you were gone," I admitted. "I couldn't believe you didn't remember me, and I didn't want to forgive you for leaving me. And then when you came back ... I realized that I didn't really hate you. I hated me, because as much as I'd wanted to stop loving you, I hadn't."

Alex looked at me with a tender expression. "And I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. It scared me because I'd never felt like that before. But now ... I realize that I've loved you all along too."

"Will your parents let me stay with you for a while? Until I know what's going on?"

Alex didn't look too sure, but he smiled at me anyway. "If they won't ... we'll just have to convince them otherwise, won't we?"