Lost Boy (13 page)

I look back, feeling my inner dictator rising in me, "Use this time wisely. Jane is crazy but she knows what she's doing. She knows how to debrief you. Use her knowledge."

I don’t wave or kiss her goodbye, or do any of the things I want to do. I drive to the gym to let Angelo beat the ever-loving shit out of me.

January 7th

"I need to see you, Eli. I need to discuss a few things with you."

I look at the stack of things on my desk and nod, "Fine. I'll come right over." I don’t even fight her on it. I know why, I know Sarah is at her office for her last treatment before she's freed into the world. The world where she makes the choices for herself and I no longer dangle her about like a puppet. She is no longer mine to control, mine to stalk, or mine to watch. She is free and I don’t know how to win her heart when mine is still not found.

I race down the stairs to the foyer, waving at the annoying guy at the desk as I hurry across to the door. I can't get to my car fast enough. What if they've left already and I have no reason to see her?

I dial Stuart as I start the car but he doesn’t answer. I take deep breaths and redial, cutting someone off and getting a true Boston fuck you.

I can't relax until I see the Tahoe still there. I cut traffic, nearly hit a pedestrian, and speed, but the Tahoe is still there. She hasn’t left yet. Stuart is pacing outside the vehicle, talking on his phone. He looks worried.

I jump out, "What are you doing?"

He scowls at me, "Leaving Michelle another voicemail. She isn’t speaking to me. Sarah had to phone her and give her a rough recount of the events and she is pissed. I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know how to win her back or make her understand."

He means he doesn’t know how to do all of that, without actually telling Michelle what he's been through. He doesn’t want her to know he's soiled. Only he can see the dirty sides of himself but it doesn’t matter; he doesn’t want her to feel sorry for him or see him as less of a man.

To me that is impossible. There is no one like Stuart. His secret soft side is something people don’t know about. He volunteers to hold babies at the neonatal unit at Boston's Children's Hospital. He helps to find strays with the local animal shelters.

No one is manlier than Stuart, and if he would let Michelle see himself, she would know that. But he won't. He'll act like a player and die inside slowly.

I watch him dial again and nod, "I have to go inside and see Jane. You taking Sarah back to dorms?"

He nods and starts leaving his message again. I wave and walk away.

When I get inside, I look at the elevator and take a deep breath. I press the button and wait. The doors open and she walks right into my chest, not seeing me, "Oh sorry," she says so casually, like we are strangers.

I step back, letting her and trying not to look wounded.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

I can't stop looking her in the eyes, not without seeing that kiss in the rain. Even the cold of it couldn’t stop me from wanting to stay there with her. I point at the elevator, "I wanted to see her."

She looks hurt, "Did you know I was here?"

I lie, "No. I expected you to still be in session. I was going to wait in the other offices." She flinches when I say that, like her memories of those places are still too traumatizing. I know it's been years for me and I am still traumatized. Jane alone scares me. I try to sound nicer, "How have you been?"

She stares at me with something I don’t want to see in her eyes, "Since you messaged me this morning and told me to stop being a pain in the ass? Good."

I laugh nervously. I don’t want her to see it, my anxiety or desire. The doors close as I avoid her face and she searches mine. I lean past her to press the button. Somewhere in the close space she whispers, "I need you."

I can't breathe. My words are stuck in my throat. I step back to tell her I love her. I just need to say it and put it out there, and hope to God she doesn’t need me in a different way than I need her. She changes her mind and leaves.

I look down at the floor and wonder where the brave man I used to be went. I was once a whole person and now I can only find that feeling of being whole, when she is there to fill the gaps.

In desperation and sickening need I send her a text, 'I need to see you this evening. I need to talk to you.'

I don’t even know what I'll say to her but I need her. I get into the elevator and try really hard not to feel the movement and tiny space of it all.

Jane is waiting for me when it opens. She frowns, "You weren’t supposed to make her love you, Eli."

I want answers but if Jane thinks anything is going on, she will manipulate Sarah and make her hate me on purpose. She loves games and she loves having me as a prize.

I raise an eyebrow, "Stockholm is your favorite form of therapy, Jane."

She walks to the counter and pours us both a scotch. She drinks hers as she brings mine to me, "It is. I've just never seen it work so effectively. The person generally recovers, Sarah is not." She hands me the glass, winking and grinning, "Then again, it is you, Eli."

I offer her up a grin, "To your success." She toasts with the little bit that’s left and goes back for more. I don’t want her to know how I feel. I sit down on the couch, "I'm just glad I can finally get back to work."

Jane watches me, "You are?"

I nod and sip the well-aged malt. "My father has been finding it hard with me working part-time and helping Sarah full time." I yawn, "And I'm exhausted."

Jane furrows her brow, "So you have no interest in pursuing her?"

"Who?"

She cocks a grin, "Don’t be daft, Sarah."

I scoff, "No. She is family. She always will be. The next step is getting her to meet her parents. They're so excited."

Jane nods, "Sarah is too. She's just scared for them to see the broken mess she is."

I roll my eyes, "She needs to see the strength inside of herself. She is a remarkable girl."

Jane smiles, "So you won't mind if I tell Sebastian to have another go then?"

I shrug, "I don’t think a guy will solve anything. I think she's still seeing herself as broken; no man is going to change that. She'll just transfer her Stockholm on to him. I think it's a terrible idea but you never listen to me."

She laughs with her head back, "You never listen to me, rather."

I lift my glass, "It's too bad we're both crazy." And I fucking hate you.

She nods and drinks.

"What do you need from me? You said you wanted to talk."

She sighs, "Two things. Firstly, I want her to have contact with Sebastian again. She asked you for his number, I want you to give it to her. I have it."

I narrow my gaze, "How do you know him?"

She smirks, "I was getting some computer work done. He saw a picture of her and commented how beautiful she was. I told him she was about to start at the university. He mentioned he would be there too. I told him morning runs were her thing and to try to be there, and he should be able to meet her."

"You set her up with a guy, while she was in therapy?"

She laughs, "No, I set him up for failure, unfortunately. I knew she would back off, but I hoped the male contact and relationship would bring back bad things for her."

I almost gag and feel sick for the guy at the same time. I'm glad it wasn’t me who made her remember those things. I nod, "I can give her the number." She passes it to me and I see her look change.

"What's the second thing?"

"She is going to tell Michelle everything. Everything."

I nod, "I assumed as much."

Her eyes narrow, "Stuart will be broken."

"I know."

She gives me a look, "Do you? Have you noticed how in love with her he is? He is going to suffer and not in a way he likes. He has never been in love before. He fears intimacy."

I sigh, "I know that, you don’t have to tell me."

She gives me a glare, "Did you know he got a girl pregnant once, made her have an abortion because he was terrified he would molest the baby. That’s why he forces himself to volunteer at the neonatal unit. He told me once he saw a program about how boys who are sexually assaulted, have a ninety-percent chance of abusing children. Do you know what that knowledge has done to him? He has never had a single thought about hurting a child or ever been attracted to one, and yet, he has deemed himself a predator. He lives with that."

I swallow hard, shaking my head, "Why are you telling me this?"

Her eyes glass over to the cold, dead-fish she really is, "He tried to commit suicide after the abortion. Took a bunch of pills. That is the last time I saw him heartbroken."

I drink back the last of the scotch and place the glass down, "I will make certain he is himself."

She nods, "Thank you. I don’t think he will turn to me if he goes into crisis. I think it will be you. He loves you."

I leave for the elevator, desperate for the stairs and to hug my friend and tell him he is no monster. I press the button, not looking but speaking loudly, "It was fun as it always is, Jane. Thank you for the scotch." I step into the elevator and avoid her eyes as the door closes. I can feel a broody mood coming on as I walk to the car. I don’t start it, I text her one word, 'Hi.'

She doesn't send anything back but she reads it. I wonder if Michelle is there yet, and if they are talking about what a monster I am. I start the car and drive to her dorm. I don’t mean to, it just happens. Staring at it makes me feel less detached from her. I actually fear the freedom she has and it's entirely because I want her to be mine. It has nothing to do with her mental state or mine. It has even less to do with her healing or her family. It is entirely selfish. It is my version of a selfish survivor.

She captivated me and I am stuck in her Stockholm as much as she is.

I send a different text message as the sun goes down and I am hidden in the shadows, 'Stuart will be there in fifteen.'

I dial Stuart quickly to make sure that he'll be there.

"Hey," his voice is sad.

"I need you to pick her up in fifteen and bring her to my place."

He doesn’t say anything for a minute but after the long pause, he sounds confused, "What?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"Eli, dude. That is a terrible idea. You can't bring her there."

I sigh, "We need to see each other normally. She might still crack a little in public places, so yeah, I am going to meet with her at my place. It's nice."

"What about the room?"

My stomach hurts. I wince, "I'm obviously not having her there for that."

He pauses again and after a minute sighs, "Why are you having her there?"

I ignore the question, "Michelle is going to be there. She won't let Sarah out of her sight. I guarantee that."

He sucks air, "Oh, that was low. Okay. Fifteen and you don’t show her the room and Michelle waits in the Tahoe with me. Deal."

I hang up and drive home for a fast shower and to get ready. I find myself putting on cologne and styling my faux hawk perfectly. It's a bad sign.

I watch out the window for the Tahoe. My stomach is eating itself. I don’t actually know the last time I ate anything. I pace, watching the city lights come to life and tapping my fingers against my arms. In my peripheral, I see it pull up. She jumps out and runs across the street, in a skirt… shit. I turn and run for the elevator, pressing the button and waiting. She will for sure take it. I step in, sticking my finger into the corner to make sure I know it isn’t the hole.

The doors open and she is there. She is prettier than I have ever seen her. Even her grad dress doesn’t compare to the jacket, pink skirt, and of course, her UGG boots. I smile, I can't even help it, "Sarah."

She sucks her air, gasping and nodding, "Hi."

I make room for her, "Come in."

She seems scared or unsure. She gives me and the elevator a look before stepping in.

"How are you?" I ask. I feel like an idiot.

She frowns, "Since I saw you a few hours ago?"

"Right. Of course."

She looks up at me with that perfect face, "I'm fine. Really." She looks like a fairy or a doll. Her makeup makes her blue eyes and blonde hair stand out against her creamy skin. I can imagine sucking her glossy bottom lip. Shit. Why did she wear a skirt?

She narrows her gaze, "Are you waiting for me to fall apart?"

I can't speak. I just nod, it's not even the truth. I figure her parents are going to be the fall apart stage of her recovery.

She shrugs, "It won't happen. It's different for me than you. I was already pulled apart. The memories suck, but inside I already knew they were there. Your eyes and her face have haunted me for the entire fourteen years."

I don’t say anything. If I do, it's going to be something dirty and involve lifting her skirt just a little bit for my fingers that are clenched so tight I can't stand it.

We are both out of breath and words, yet still staring at each other. It's awkward and tense. That rooftop kiss is playing in my mind, and by her skirt and bare legs, I can imagine it is in her mind as well.

When the elevator stops, she steps off and walks to the view. I forget about the many things she hasn’t seen or lived or done. She is like a bird freed from a cage.