The Fading Trilogy: Fading, Freeing, Falling: Includes 2 BONUS short stories: Hoping and Finding Forever (90 page)

(3 weeks later)

Mark has been gone for almost a month now, but he calls and texts often. He’s settled and started classes at U-Dub last week. He seems happy, so I’m trying to be as well.

“Em! Hurry up. We’re gonna be late!”

“I’m coming!” she snaps. “And we’re not gonna be late.”

Emily is feisty as hell. We are alike in that respect, but I tend to wear my emotions on my sleeve where she has a toughness that I admire.

When Em comes down the stairs, I grab the car keys and head out. As she hops into the passenger seat, she starts, “I wonder if Gabe ever broke it off with that sophomore?”

“Why would he?” I question, and when I do, I see a huge grin spread across her face. “Oh, God. What did you do?”

“Nothing,” she says in a singsong voice that tells me she’s been up to no good.

“Spill it.”

“You can’t say a word. Promise.”

Watching the road ahead, I respond, “Promise.”

“So that party I went to Saturday night that you were too tired to go to . . . well, apparently his girlfriend was tired too and wasn’t there.”

“Cut to the point,” I tell her, not needing all the chitchat.

“He kissed me.”

“Em!”

“What?”

“He has a girlfriend!”

“Sooo?” she says as if she hasn’t a clue to how inappropriate it is. “We’re in high school,” she defends. “It isn’t like they’re getting married or anything.”

“You are unbelievable. Breaking up a relationship is not the way you want to start your junior year.”

“Oh, God,” she moans at me as I pull into the parking lot behind our high school.

Familiar faces are all around and everyone is happy, meeting up with their friends they haven’t seen all summer. I find our assigned spot and park the car.

“Well, as fun as this car ride has been, I’m gonna go see if I can find Gabe before the first bell rings,” she says before grabbing her backpack and hopping out of the car.

“Em.”

“Yeah?”

“That girl is gonna be hurt when she finds out. Just . . . don’t rub it in and make it worse on her,” I tell her.

She releases a deep sigh and nods her head. “Fine,” she reluctantly agrees and then walks away.

I reach in the back for my bag before heading in too. Walking through the busy halls, I find a few of my friends gathered around a locker.

“Hey guys,” I announce when I walk up to them.

Turning to look at me, Jenn closes her locker and walks away after giving me a snide look. I wonder what the hell I could’ve possibly done to piss her off. We haven’t spoke in about a month, but during the summer, that isn’t too uncommon.

Adjusting my backpack higher on my shoulder, I make my way to my first class. Already wanting to ditch, I pull out my phone and text Mark.

First day sux.

Switching my cell to silent, I walk into my English Comp. class and find a desk to situate myself at. I sit here, feeling uncomfortable when I notice the whispering going on around me. I wish my phone would buzz with Mark’s reply. Anything to distract me from my self-conscious thoughts.

I sit through class, anxious for it to end. Fifty minutes pass and I never feel my phone vibrate, but then the time difference dawns on me. It’s not even 6am in Seattle.

When the bell rings, I shove my book into my bag and try finding Em in the hall while I make my way to second period. Instead, I see Jenn, and I call out to her. Her friends walk away when I approach.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

She sighs, saying, “Come with me.”

I follow her as she leads me into the girl’s bathroom. She looks around to make sure we’re the only ones in here before speaking. “Everyone is talking about you and your sister.”

“What? Why?” I ask, completely confused.

“Erin . . . everyone knows about your brother. It’s all over school that he’s a fag.”

Emotions flood. A whole multitude of them. Worried. Embarrassed. Defensive. Angry. Sad.

“Don’t call him that,” I tell her, hating that term.

“Well, he is, isn’t he?” she whispers, like the words are infectious.

“No,” I snap. “He’s not a fag; he’s gay.”

“Don’t get all bitchy with me,” she snaps right back. “I just thought you should know what people are saying.”

“So they’re calling him a fag?”

She nods her head, adding, “They’re calling you things too.”

“Are you serious? Like what?” Oh my God. I can’t believe this. Panic shoots through me and I wanna run, but I stay to hear what I’m almost afraid to hear.

“That you’re a dyke.”

“What?!” I nearly shriek in disbelief. “Why would they say that?”

“I don’t know, but they are.”

“You told them I’m not, right?”

When her eyes shift down, I see it. Shaking my head at her, I plead, “Please tell me you said something.”

She doesn’t look at me, and my face heats as the tears begin to stain them. Jenn and I have been friends since elementary school, but I suddenly feel like I don’t even know her. How could she not defend me, but instead, betray me?

“Jenn?”

She meets my eyes when she looks up, and her words are drenched in annoyance when she defends, “Look, it’s bad enough that they’re saying that stuff about you, but I don’t want them saying it about me too.”

“So you’ll let them make fun of me as long as your name isn’t mentioned? I thought you were my friend.”

“I am,” she says softly. “But . . .”

“But what?”

She takes a moment before admitting, “ I don’t wanna be part of the gossip.”

I hear it. I hear the beating around the bush. I’m not stupid. “No. You’d rather be spreading the gossip than
be
the gossip,” I sneer before storming out the door, pissed that my friend would be so self-centered, worried about her own reputation than to stand up for me.

I rush through the halls, looking for Em, and when I spot her, she’s yelling at Gabe.

“What the fuck is your problem? You think you’re so goddamn perfect, huh?”

“Em!” I holler, trying to get her attention, but she keeps on, not even acknowledging me.

When I get close enough, I see Gabe laughing at her, and she loses it, fisting her hand and punching him right in the junk.

“Bitch!” he squeals out, clutching himself and falling to his knees.

“Em!” I shout, but before she can answer me, the principal is there.

“Office. Now.”

“Please explain to me how you manage to get suspended on the first day of school!”

“Mom, don’t yell at her,” I say, trying to defend Emily.

“No, really. Ms. Childers said that you punched a boy in the crotch? I mean . . . what in God’s name were you thinking?” she questions as I bust out laughing at the image of Emily socking that jerk in the nuts and his beet red face as he fell to the ground.

“This isn’t funny,” she scolds, and I immediately straighten up.

“Mom, everyone was calling Mark a faggot,” Emily tells her, and my mom leans back into the chair. Sadness washes over her face.

Em and I sit together on the couch, watching her try to hold it together. It takes her a moment when she finally speaks.

“They’re calling him that?” she questions in disbelief.

“Yeah, Mom,” Emily says softly, as if her words were spoken too loudly, could hurt our mother.

“Jenn pulled me aside and told me that they’re saying I like girls. That I’m a dyke,” I add.

“Well, did you tell the principal that?”

“Yeah, but she didn’t want to hear it. She was more concerned about the fight,” I explain.

“I want you to go talk to her tomorrow and tell her what those kids are saying.”

“I’m staying home.” Emily was the one who got suspended, not me, but I’m not going there without her.

“You can’t just stay home. You need to go and stand up for yourself. Don’t let them make you feel like you can’t go to school.”

“Mom, it doesn’t work that way. You don’t understand,” I tell her and then I feel my phone buzz from inside my pocket. I pull it out to see that Mark has finally responded to my text from earlier, but honestly, it’s too late. I don’t even read it when I shove it back into my pocket.

“I’ll go up there with you.”

“What? That’s even worse. You can’t come with me to school, Mom.”

“Just let her stay home tomorrow,” Emily chimes in.

Not wanting to argue, she surrenders, “Fine. One day. That’s all you get,” before standing up and walking out of the room.

I turn to look at Emily. “Thanks.”

She gives me a faint smile and says, “Yeah, sure,” in an almost defeated tone and then heads upstairs.

When I finally drag myself out of bed, it’s almost noon. No one has bothered me all morning. No one bothered me last night either, not even my dad. I know he’s been having a difficult time accepting that Mark is gay. He loves him, there’s never been any doubt about that, but he hasn’t been dealing with it well. I’m sure when Mom told him about what happened at school yesterday, he went into shutdown mode. He’s good at that when something is bothering him.

I go downstairs to grab a soda, and when I return to my room, I see the screen on my phone is lit up. It’s a missed text from Mark.

Never heard back from you yesterday. How did the rest of your day go?

Tossing the phone on the bed, I sit down and take a long drink. For the first time, I don’t wanna talk to him. Honestly, I’m mad at him. Mad that he created this storm that’s been slowly brewing. A storm that landed right on top of me. But he’s the lucky one. He had the ability to run away, and the first chance he got, he did. Ran straight to Seattle, leaving Emily and me to deal with the backlash. He’s a coward.

“Come in,” I say when there’s a knock on my bedroom door.

Emily opens it slowly, saying, “Hey,” as she walks in. “Mark just texted. Said he hasn’t heard from you in a couple days.”

“Yeah, I know.”

She cocks her head at me, asking, “What’s going on?”

“Aren’t you mad?”

“About yesterday?”

“About Mark. How he conveniently moved away and left us to deal with this crap,” I say.

As she takes a seat on the bed next to me, she admits, “In a way . . . yeah. I feel bad for saying it though.”

“It’s not fair. He’s off, having fun, while we’re stuck here.” I pause for a moment before adding, “Jenn didn’t even defend me when she heard what people were saying about me.”

“She’s a twat,” Emily says, and I burst out in laughter at her choice of words. And for a moment, as brief as it is, I feel the weight being lifted.

“Yeah, she is,” I agree through my now light chuckles. “But still. How shallow can a person be?”

“She’s pathetic and clearly not worth your time. Let her be a bitch to someone else.”

“But she’s being a bitch to
me.
She was actually pissed at me when I got upset when she told me she didn’t stop them from saying those things,” I say.

“People are stupid; you know that.”

“Yeah.”

“Call Mark so he doesn’t worry, okay?” she tells me and I nod. “I’m gonna go fix some Ramen for lunch. Want any?”

“Gross. No.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she teasingly mocks. “I forgot how refined your palette is.”

“Well, it’s better than having it tainted by Gabe’s tongue like yours is,” I shoot back at her.

“Ugh. Don’t remind me,” she says in disgust as she leaves my room.

Picking up my phone, I scroll through and bring up Mark’s cell number. I really don’t want to talk to him right now, but I suck it up and call him anyway.

“Hey,” he says when he answers.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Just got out of class. About to head back to the dorms. What about you? You at school?”

“No. Home,” I clip out, growing more irritated that he seems so happy.

“Why are you at home?”

“Em got suspended.”

“Wait. What?”

“Em. Got. Suspended.” I say this slow and condescendingly.

“Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Mark. Could it be the fact that everyone knows you’re gay and you couldn’t stick around here long enough to take some of the heat that’s now our burden to bear?”

Silence. He doesn’t respond.

“Are you gonna say anything?” I push.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry that you ran away?”