Never Let Me Go

It wasn’t long before he heard Jack’s voice behind him. Of course he followed me out here. Alex thought. He took a deep breath in and turned around to face him.

“How could you just put my personal shit out there like that?”

“I’m sorry… I’ve just been so worried about you so– “

“So you just blurt my business like that? How would you like it if I told them about your wrists? They don’t know about that, do they?”

“No,” he said, eyes on the ground.

“Exactly. If I tell you what happened, how am I supposed to trust that you won’t use it against me the next time you’re mad at me?”

Jack just looked at him, unable to produce a response.

“Look, I’m gonna go. I’ll see you around.”

He half-hoped Jack would come after him again but he knew that would be asking too much. Jack wasn’t telepathic.

The half hour it took him to walk home felt like more like an hour and by the time he turned and locked the door, he was exhausted. The half empty bottle of Fireball winked at him through the slots of the glass liquor cabinet, as if waiting for him to turn off his brain. He tossed his book bag on the floor and a delayed wave of anger shot through his body. Before he could talk himself out of it, his fist connected with the wall next to the door. The pain shooting up his arm gave him something to focus on other than the shit salad he’d been handed recently. He shook his throbbing hand, as though that would lessen the pain.

The mid afternoon sun bounced off the Fireball bottle and made Alex squint. Fuck it and fuck this. I’m done. He walked over to the cabinet, opened it and unscrewed the top from the bottle. He didn’t see the need to bother with a glass and poured the whiskey into his mouth.

#

The empty desk taunted Jack as he sat through the math class he and Alex usually had together. The last time he’d seen him was when they’d fought the Friday before. Alex had since stopped coming to school, disappeared from social media, and stopped answering his texts. School had never been Jack’s favorite thing, but now it felt like it was ten times harder to concentrate. All he could think about was whether Alex was getting his assignments or if he was eating yet or if his mom had even noticed something was wrong. His eyes kept drifting longingly to Alex’s desk, wishing that could make him materialize somehow.

He was startled out of his trance by his teacher calling his name.

“Jack. This is the second time I’ve had to tell you to keep your eyes up front. If I have to tell you again, it’s an automatic five points off your assignment,”

“Oh. OK. Sorry Mr. Thompson,” Jack said, picking his pencil back up and attempting to better fake paying attention.

The bell rang what felt like hours later and he walked to his locker in a daze. He rotated his locker combination into the lock without much thought and opened it. He stared at the organized chaos of his locker, not actually seeing any of its contents. His phone buzzing in his back pocket startled him. He quickly dug it out, half-hoping the text would be from Alex.

His face fell when he saw Zack’s name on the text preview: ‘Dude, get your ass over to the practice room already. I convinced Rian to skip last period so we could get here early.’

He stuffed the phone back into his pocket without answering and refocused on getting the books he’d need for homework. He shoved them in his book bag and found himself walking in the direction of the classes he had with Alex. Maybe he’ll talk to me if I bring him his assignments. He IS a huge nerd about his work. And maybe I’ll finally get some peace if I know how he is… he thought. He called his mom to pick him up early, deciding to skip practice.

They pulled up to Alex’s house 20 minutes later. Jack banged on the door, hoping the noise would be enough to get Alex’s attention. Seconds turned to minutes. Jack waved to his mom as if to tell her Alex had answered, even though he hadn’t. He didn’t want her to worry. Not yet, anyway.

“Alex, come on. I know where you keep the hide-a-key plus I have the work you’ve been missing at school so even if you hate me, I know you care about your work,”

No answer.

“Fine. I’m coming in then,” he said, reaching under a pot of Alex’s mom’s geraniums for the spare key.

He dropped his own book bag on the floor and went straight up the stairs to Alex’s room, hoping his mom still had night shifts and he wouldn’t run into her.

The smell was the first thing that hit him when he got to his room. It was an odor of stale liquor, beer, sweat, and rotten food. He felt bile rising in his throat as he walked into the room. He tripped over empty whiskey and vodka bottles as he made his way over to the bed. No no no no, baby, what are you doing why oh God I should have checked on you sooner. Jack thought. Nervous energy shot through his veins as he got closer to the bed Alex lay prone on. Jack felt his heartbeat speed up as he put his free hand on his shoulder, trying to shake him awake. When he didn’t respond, it felt like someone had put a hand around Jack’s throat and squeezed. His arm and neck started to itch, a sign that his anxiety was reaching dangerous levels, but he had to know. He shook him again, harder this time. Nothing.

“Goddammit, Alex, wake up! You’re freaking me out and I need to know you’re not dead,”

He sank down onto his bed and dropped his head into his hands.
I feel the need to punch something. Emotions are stupid and I’m tired of him taking over all of them. Just wake up you little shit. Don’t do this to me again.

He finally felt an arm hit his back, which was shortly followed by a “what the fuck? Jack?”

He turned around, ready to read Alex the riot act when his eyes met Alex’s bloodshot, dead-eyed gaze. He looked skeletal: his already thin face looked hollowed out, his eyes sunken, and a messy array of stubble surrounded his chin and upper lip. All of the saliva felt like it had evaporated from Jack’s mouth and it was like his vocal chords had been cut.

“You’re staring. Also, what are you doing here?” the stench of vodka and dry mouth hit Jack square in the face.

“I… your assignments…”

“What’s wrong with you?”

The cruel tone of his voice was so unlike him Jack remained speechless.

“You just… never mind. I brought the assignments you’ve been missing,” he held them out for Alex to take.

Alex took them and threw them to the other side of the room.

Jack’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water [find another metaphor later? I feel like I overuse this].

“I thought I was pretty clear that I didn’t want to see you,” he said.

“I-I’ve been worried about you. You’ve been missing a week,”

“Well stop worrying,”

“Stop worrying? Stop worrying. Ohhh my God,” Jack laced his fingers behind his head, turned his back to Alex, and gave a mirthless laugh.

“Alex, all I fucking do is worry about you. About whether you’ve gotten yourself into the state you’ve gotten in now. About how I wish I’d stopped myself before blurting what I did. Hell, I skipped band practice today because I figured at least if you didn’t give a shit about me, you’d give a shit about your work. All I’ve wanted to do is apologize for being an impulsive asshole who speaks without thinking first but I’m not sure it’d make any difference and that’s what kept me from coming over sooner,” Jack turned back to face him when he said those last two things.

“You were right, it doesn’t make any difference,” Alex said, the dead eyed expression remaining unchanged.

Jack stood up and glared at him.

“Okay, seriously, what the FUCK Alex? I know you’re mad at me but this is something different. I poured my fucking heart out to you just now and that’s all you’ve got to say? You’re acting like some fucking robot and it’s making me wonder if I ever knew you at all. If you’re not going to talk to me about whatever else it is that made you like this, talk to someone else. Please. ‘Cause I can’t keep doing this. It hurts too much,”

He saw the first flicker of emotion flash in Alex’s eyes and silently prayed that he’d gotten through to him.

“What are you saying?” he suddenly sounded scared.

Jack pushed a hand through his hair and sighed.

“I’m saying I can’t do this anymore. I love you too much to keep watching from the sidelines while you destroy yourself,”

He left Alex looking stunned. He hesitated in the doorway for a second before texting his mom to come get him. He closed the front door as quietly as possible and sank down on the curb to wait for her. The minute his butt hit the pavement, he started sobbing. It became an ugly cry the second his mom pulled up.