You Could Be My Compass

Alex couldn’t look Jack in the eye. He directed his gaze to the carpet and bit his lip, unsure of how to answer. He tried to sound casual and joking. “It wasn’t that big of a deal,” he lied, hoping Jack would let it go but already knowing that he wouldn’t. He didn’t blame him, of course. If the roles were reversed, he certainly wouldn’t just let it go.

“Alex, don’t tell me it’s not a big deal. You tried to kill yourself! When did this happen?” Jack sounded like he was about to cry. Not that Alex was looking at him.

“It was near the end of sophomore year. It was like, right after I’d gotten the DUI, and everything was just out of control. I had friends—Rian and the others—but it just wasn’t the same as having my best friend. I felt so alone. So one day when y parents were at work I decided to skip school. My mom had ankle surgery that year, but that was during the phase where she didn’t believe in taking medicine, so there was a bottle of painkillers in the cabinet. It was so convenient, so easy, so simple. They were right there. Easy access.”

He closed his eyes for a brief second, remembering exactly how it happened, how it felt. It seemed like it had been planned, like that’s what was supposed to happen. At the time, it was perfect. It felt so right. Swallow the pills and see what happened. “I don’t think I really meant to try to kill myself. I took a couple painkillers and it made me feel better. A few more and I started to feel numb, and that was even better. I liked not feeling anything. I wanted to make see how long it would last, so I just kept taking them. I guess I lost track after a while.” That might be the most pathetic explanation of a suicide attempt ever, he thought. But it was the truth.

“Your parents weren’t there. How’d you end up at the hospital?” Jack asked tightly. His voice was so controlled, like he was working just to get the words out.

Still keeping his eyes fixed on the floor, Alex explained, “Since I didn’t show up at school, the teacher gave Rian my assignments. The neighborhood was on his way home, and he decided to stop by to check on me. I guess he wanted to make sure I hadn’t done anything stupid or got too drunk. Since there was the whole ‘possible alcohol poisoning’ Lisa kindly informed you of, he was worried about me. He knocked and I didn’t answer and he could see me through the window. The door was unlocked, so he let himself in. Apparently, I wasn’t breathing and he called an ambulance and here I am. I’d only passed out a few minutes before he got there. I owe him a lot for dropping in like that.”

He finally let himself look at Jack. His face was a combination of heartbroken and angry. Alex didn’t understand the second one. “Why?” Jack whispered. “Why would you do that?”

“I missed you. It was so hard on me when you were gone and—”

“Stop,” Jack said, his voice low and harsh. “Just stop. Please. Do you think you’re the only one that it was hard on? How do you think I felt? How do you think it was for me? I didn’t know where I was or who took me or if I’d ever be able to come back home. I was separated from my family and my best friend for what felt like forever. I was locked up in a room for years. I was scared, Alex.”

Alex wanted to say something, he did…but what could he say to that?

“Can you just…go for a few minutes?” Jack asked, turning away from him.

He didn’t remind him that this was his room. This wasn’t the time to argue with him. He walked out, leaving Jack in there. He felt the need to apologize, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d done wrong. How to apologize, on the other hand, he was sure of.

It was an old tradition of theirs, a ritual of their friendship that they’d had since they were six. Alex got a really horrible haircut, the kind that still made him cringe over a decade later, the kind that warranted a period of time where no pictures were taken of him out of courtesy, and Jack teased him about it until he cried and locked himself in his room. A few hours later, Jack brought a peace offering/apology gift of peppermint tea and a Zero bar.

Ever since then, that’s how they always apologized to each other. If one of them pissed the other off or hurt them somehow, even if it was an accident, it was expected that within the next twenty-four hours, they’d give them a Zero bar and peppermint tea.

Alex was frustrated to find that while they had an impressive variety of tea in the kitchen, they didn’t have peppermint. There was green tea and black tea and hibiscus flower tea and spearmint tea and tea with black pepper in it and chai tea and every other kind imaginable. But not peppermint. There were also no Zero bars. (Though that wasn’t much of a surprise.) Damn it. “I’ll be back in a few,” he called up to his room, not at all surprised when he didn’t get a response.

On the way to the store, he thought about their little ritual. It had been put on hold for five years, obviously, and this was the first time since they were twelve that it had to be done. They’d never failed at it since they started, though. When they were ten, Alex was on vacation and said something really mean to Jack—funnily enough, even just a week later, neither could remember what it was. Jack got upset, and Alex somehow managed to have a Zero bar and a cup of peppermint tea on his porch early the next morning from halfway across the country.

“Apology gift?” the girl at the register asked with a knowing smile.

“How’d you know?”

“You have this I-fucked-up look on your face—and if the manager asks, I didn’t use that language at work because ‘that’s unprofessional Mia; we want to promote a family-friendly…’ I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ramble about that. Anyways, you look like you think you fu… screwed up and you’re using tea and candy to make it better.”

“Wow, you must be psychic.” Should’ve gone through self-check.

“Psych-something. Don’t major in psychology,” she advised. “Look where it got me!” Really should’ve gone through self-check. “Well, good luck with your apology.”

Alex thanked her and went home. After making the tea, which took a couple tries, he crept up to his room, where he found Jack sitting cross-legged on the floor, face in his hands. He was crying.

He didn’t know how, but he’d made Jack cry, and he felt terrible about it. Sitting across from him, he gently placed the mug and candy bar in front of him.

Jack dragged his head up and stared at his friend. “How do you think I would have felt,” he continued like there hadn’t been a break in the conversation, like Alex hadn’t left, voice cracking. He didn’t look angry anymore. Alex would’ve preferred anger to this. Jack looked so sad, sadder than when he though he disappointed his dad. He didn’t finish the question, just wiped furiously at his eyes and took a deep breath.

He started again, “How do you think I would have felt if when I got back, you hadn’t been here? I missed you so fucking much, Alex. Literally the only thing that kept me going was knowing that one day, I’d get to see you again. If I came back and you were dead, I…I don’t know what I would’ve done. There were so many days when I wanted to give up. I could’ve quit eating the scraps they fed me and called meals. I surely could’ve found something in that room to kill myself with. But I didn’t. Every time I started to want that, I would remember you and that whenever I got out, you’d be here. Thinking about you was what kept me alive for five years.”

Alex felt tears stinging his eyes, threatening to spill over. He realized right then and there how selfish he’d been. All this time, while he’d worried about Jack, he’d been focused on how it effected him. I want Jack back because I miss him. I’m so glad Jack’s back because I was miserable without him. But that shouldn’t have been how he thought. He reached out his arms and wrapped them around the skinny boy. “I’m so sorry, Jack,” he mumbled against his neck. “And I’m sorry I never tried to see it from your perspective. I got so caught up in how it made me feel when you weren’t here that I never stopped to consider it.”

He didn’t have to say it’s okay. The gentle kiss he left on Alex’s jaw said that for him.

Alex pulled away and wiped the tears off Jack’s face. “Your tea’s gonna get cold.”

Jack grinned and picked up the cup, taking a long sip. “Peppermint tea and a Zero bar. I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“How could I forget that? It’s the only acceptable way to apologize.”

Maybe Alex was imagining it, but he swore Jack was staring at his lips as he said, “I can think of another way.”

He gulped. “What’s that?”

Jack set the tea down and leaned forward until their lips were just an inch apart. “This,” he whispered, gently pressing his lips against Alex’s.

Alex smiled into the kiss because, well, finally! But then he drew back. “Wait, what are you apologizing for?”

Jack sighed. “Really? You’re really asking that right now?” Rolling his eyes, he tried to think of something. “Um…I’m apologizing for…kicking you out of your own room earlier?” He looked to Alex for approval.

“Works for me.” And he pulled Jack into another kiss.

Best apology ever.