Only Three Months to Live
by Victor Thomas
Chapter 1
August 2018
Owen
I hated Leif the moment I spotted him in Chouteau High School. Leif, the new boy. Leif, blond, blue eyed, beautiful, and already surrounded by friends on his very first day of school. He was one of those charmed, charming boys who effortlessly had it all. My fondest wish was that he would stumble and chip his perfect white teeth, or break his nose. Perhaps his hair could catch fire over a Bunsen burner in science and singe it back to his scalp. I experienced several enjoyable moments imagining one catastrophe after another befalling the golden boy and thought perhaps, I might make a list of the possibilities in my notebook.
None of it would happen. Nothing bad ever happened to a boy like him, while my life could best be described as a crap fest. Even so, my first day back at school after a summer of boredom and a vacation best forgotten, was made a bit less dull as I pictured one tragedy after another making his life a living hell. It's not that I wished serious injury or death upon him. I didn't go quite that far, almost, but not quite. I merely derived pleasure in imagining bad things happening to a boy who probably never had an unpleasant day in his life.
School was school. My freshman year looked to be much the same as my eighth-grade year and all the others before. The same boring, stuck-up students surrounded me. The same jocks that thought they were hot shit and looked down on everyone else. I bet Leif was one of them. While muscular, he didn't look quite built enough to be a major football jock. I had him pegged as a football player. I hated football players. They were such snobs.
I felt self-conscious wearing my brothers hand me downs. No one would recognize the jeans, but the Superman t-shirt was sure to draw attention. I just knew someone was going to ask, "didn't your brother wear that last year," or perhaps comment, "your brother looked better in that shirt than you do. He actually has muscles." I'd answer by punching the kid in the mouth. Anthony is my older brother. He's a jock and football player. Don't even get me started on him.
I can't remember if I ever had a new shirt. No wait. I remember I received one for Christmas long, long ago. Mom bought me a Harry Potter t-shirt. I was mortified. Anthony laughed at me. I punched him in the stomach and wasn't allowed to open the rest of my presents until the next day. That worked out okay. For several hours, Christmas was over for everyone except me. unfortunately, I had to wear that damned shirt. I hated it. The day I passed it on to Chad, my younger brother was the happiest day of my life, not that there was much competition for that title. I was the opposite of a boy like Leif. While he was charmed, I was cursed. I was the kind of boy destined to be hit by a truck. Some of my days were bad enough I wished the truck would just get it over with.
At lunch I sat with the other rejects. They weren't my friends, and I barely knew their names. Mike had even beat me up once last year. Most of the guys at my table were auto shop malcontents who hadn't gotten around to dropping out of school, and druggies. We were the guys no one else wanted to hang out with, so we formed a loose alliance of sorts, very loose, it didn't go much beyond sitting together at lunch or bumming a cigarette. I didn't even get that perk because I didn't smoke.
I gazed over at the football jocks talking and laughing. God, they were annoying. This was the same group from eighth grade. My fondest wish was to catch each of them alone and beat the shit out of him. Okay, maybe not, but I did fantasize about it now and then. You know how it is. We all fantasize about things we would not actually want to happen, like my fantasy about the football team. But enough about that.
I will now recount all the details of the enjoyable parts of my afternoon. Wait. There were no enjoyable parts, so I'll skip to after school. I made the mistake of lingering a little too long instead of making a quick escape, which gave Taryn Yates a chance to catch me in a deserted hallway. I had grown lax over summer vacation.
"Cash. Now," he said.
He was a man of few words. He was a freshman like me, but because he was seventeen and obviously not one of Chouteau's brightest or finest.
"I don't have any."
"You better not be lying." He proceeded to check my pockets, which were empty, except for a pen that he threw to the floor. "You're completely worthless," he snorted, then slammed me against the wall.
He pulled his fist back, but that's as far as he got.
"Let him go. Now!"
We both turned. A blond, seriously built boy stood only a few feet away. I later learned he was Jaxon Hillman, a football player, but obviously not a bad guy, even though he was a jock.
Taryn eyed him for a moment, then let me go. He preferred weak targets like me. Jaxon looked like he could kick Taryn's ass with ease.
I looked Jaxon in the eyes for a moment, and then used the opportunity to escape. I looked back when I reached the doors at the end of the hallway. Jaxon and Taryn were eyeing each other as Jaxon walked past him.
Great! Now I owed a jock. Maybe it would have been better if Taryn had kicked my ass, but then again, maybe not. I'd seen guys he had beat up before and it wasn't pretty.
I was in no particular hurry as I walked home alone. I liked being outside, especially in the summer. Today, the weather was perfect, sunny and just barely hot. It's too bad I had to waste most of it at school. I walked to the park and almost immediately wished I hadn't. Leif was there, shirtless, playing frisbee with a couple of girls.
The sight of him didn't please me, but the sight of his sexy, muscular torso excited me. I drew close enough to get a good look without getting so close I might get caught checking him out. Naturally, he had abs and a perfectly shaped muscular chest. Gazing at him made me breathe harder and made my dick flex.
I turned away after staring for a few moments. I'd wasted enough time on that asshole and my dick was beginning to tent my jeans. I didn't need to be tagged as gay on top of everything else, not that gay boys had it bad in Chouteau. There were even out jocks here, such as Cole Summers, a hot boy, who had just graduated in May, but popular jocks could be out, while guys like me could not.
I walked through the downtown area, passing the bank, the Chouteau Café , the Buckboard Café , The Ab Crunch , the post office and a few other businesses on Main Street. Living in Chouteau was a bit like living in Mayberry from the old Andy Griffith show, and no, that's not a good thing.
My house was located about a mile from the school, on the west side of town, across the railroad tracks. It was a dumpy two-story house that I swear leaned to the left. I entered our pathetic domicile, which had mostly worn-out furniture, a washing machine one had to sit on when it was running to hold it down, and a dishwasher that had to be held shut with duct tape.
I climbed the stairs to my bedroom where my older brother was waiting to pounce.
"Where are your books?" Anthony asked.
"At school."
"Why are they at school?"
"That's where they live."
"Don't you have homework?"
"I don't know. I wasn't paying attention."
"Owen, repeat after me. Would you like fries with that?"
"Funny!"
"That's your future if you don't get your act together."
"Yeah, yeah."
"And clean up your shit. This is a pig sty," he said, kicking aside my dirty laundry and an empty coke can.
"You're not dad, so get off me! Stop bossing me around!"
He grabbed me by the arm.
"Clean up your shit. Now!"
I swallowed hard. He had never hit me, but he looked like he might. He was two years older and a lot bigger. He played football and was built like a jock, with muscles and abs. He could effortlessly kick my ass, if he wanted.
"Okay, okay. Let go of me! Jesus."
I grumbled as I began to clean up. He handed me the trash can and I grabbed it and jerked it away. He waws always bullying me and bossing me around.
I picked up the trash and then sorted through my dirty clothes and tossed them on the bed. By the time I gathered them up, it was all I could do to carry them downstairs and dump them in the laundry room, which was an enclosed former back porch.
I returned to my room. I didn't see why cleaning it was such a big deal. Removing the clothes and trash only made the stains in the ugly gold carpet visible. If I had the room to myself, I wouldn't have bothered, but I could only push Anthony so far before he'd physically force me to clean up. I had fantasies about beating the crap out of him. I had a rich fantasy life. That's what you do when your life sucks.
"Losers!" my totally annoying little brother, Chad, yelled from the doorway.
"Why don't you go play in traffic," I said.
"Kiss my butt!"
"I'll kick your butt," Anthony said.
"You'll have to catch me first!"
Anthony rushed toward the door. Chad took off, squealing. Anthony tore after him which is exactly what Chad wanted. I don't know why Anthony encouraged him. Chad was the most annoying kid brother in the entire world. Seriously, if there was a contest, he would win with ease.
At last, I had some peace. The room was clean enough that Anthony wouldn't bitch at me, so I plopped down on my bed and closed my eyes. It was time to chill out.
I had no more than closed my eyes than a shirtless Leif flashed in my mind. I fantasized about feeling his chest and licking it all over. I wanted to lick his abs too, and feel his biceps. My dick began to stiffen and I wished it was night time so I could stroke. There was never enough privacy here, not even in the bathroom, which had a door with a broken lock.
I pictured him leaning in and kissing me. While we kissed, I ran my hands over his chest, down over his abs, and right to his…
I heard pounding footsteps and a moment later a giggling Chad landed on me. My eyes popped open.
"Got you!" Anthony said, pulling him off me.
"Owen has a hardon. Owen has a hardon," Chad chanted.
"Shut up, Chad!" I yelled, sitting up to hide the bulge that he had painfully bent.
My dick felt like it might be broken.
"Owen has a stiffy!"
I could feel myself turning red.
"Chad, that's enough," Anthony said.
Chad looked at him and grew quiet. He usually did what Anthony said.
"Now, I believe someone called me a loser."
He threw Chad on the bed and tickled him. Chad squealed and laughed. At least he was no longer bothering me. That kid was a pain in the ass! He once walked in on me stroking. One might think an eleven-year-old would be embarrassed and beat a hasty retreat, but not him. He collapsed in a fit of laughter. Naturally, he told Anthony at the first opportunity. Our bedroom was another room that needed a door that could lock. I sincerely wished I was an only child.
Mom appeared at the door next. She ignored Anthony, who was tickling Chad, and her eyes fell on me. Luckily, my hardon was gone. That was the one good thing about Chad crushing my dick.
"You said you would mow the lawn right after school," she said.
"Oh yeah. I forgot. Isn't it Anthony's turn?"
"No, it's not his turn."
"I'll do it after supper."
"You'll do it now."
I rolled my eyes but stood up. Mom would keep nagging me until I did it. I had tried to get out of various chores in the past by putting them off until someone else did them, but she was stubborn enough to use up two hours telling me to take out the trash when actually doing it took less than two minutes. You cannot win with my mom.
I grumbled all the way to the garage. One might think the car would be park there, but not in our garage. It was filled with broken furniture, old exercise equipment, bags of clothes, and just about anything else one could find at a thrift store or a landfill. There was no room for a car.
I pulled the push mower out into the driveway and checked the gas. It was nearly empty, so I filled it. Luckily, both the mower and the gas can were located near the front of the garage and were actually accessible.
Our mower was so ancient that it's possible that my grandfather had used it to mow lawns when he was a kid. It took five hot, sweaty, swearword filled minutes to get it started.
While the weather was pleasant for walking, it was not for mowing. I was soaked with sweat before I finished our small front yard and the big back yard still waited. I didn't take off my shirt like Anthony did when he mowed. He liked to show off, but I didn't have his body. I preferred not to let anyone see me shirtless, even my family.
Every time I passed the living room window, Chad made faces at me. I flipped him off and tried to ignore him, but it was hard to ignore that kid. I considered throwing a rock at him, but breaking the window seemed like an overreaction.
The side yards took almost no time to mow since the houses on both sides of ours were very close. The backyard was the killer. I struggled to push the mower over too tall grass for what seemed like hours. I killed the engine twice and used all my best curse words until I got it started again each time.
Finally, I was finished. I was hot, sweaty, dusty, and thoroughly uncomfortable. I put the mower away, went inside, and luxuriated in the cool air as I tromped up to my room. Luckily, it was empty, so I stripped, put on a threadbare robe, and walked to the bathroom.
I experienced immediate relief as I stepped into the cool shower. I washed away the sweat and grime. I hated to get dirty and felt nasty if I couldn't wash my hair every morning. I felt rejuvenated as I turned off the water.
I opened the shower curtain, only to jerk it closed again. Chad was standing at the sink.
"Will you get out of here!"
"I'm washing my hands."
"You couldn't wait five minutes?"
"I had to go to the bathroom."
"Get out!"
"Why? I've seen you naked before."
"Get out, you little pervert."
"Why? Were you jerking it in the shower?"
That did it. I jerked the shower curtain back and lunged for him. He bolted out of the bathroom, screaming. I closed the door, dried off, and put on my robe before he had a chance to return. I briefly wondered if it would be possible to flush him down the toilet.
Supper was mac & cheese and toast. We had both a lot, but none of us complained because we knew there wasn't much money. I liked mac & cheese, so I truly didn't mind.
Chad talked all through supper, as he always did. Yak, yak, yak, yak. I swear the kid never shut up. Once I screamed, "please stop talking!" at him, but that made him cry, so after that I just let him prattle on. While I had frequent fantasies of selling him on eBay, locking him in a trunk and burying him in the backyard, and tossing him off the roof, I didn't actually want to hurt him. The fantasies helped me keep my sanity.
After supper, I returned to my room, but so did Anthony. He began working out with his dumbbells. I ignored him as best I could, until he took off his shirt. That's when I had to get out of there. Seeing him work out shirtless made perverted thoughts enter my mind. I had no intention of acting on the thoughts that popped into my head, but merely thinking them disturbed me. Actually, I had thought of acting on them, maybe when he was sleeping or if I could get him drunk. That disturbed and upset me even more, so when his shirt came off, I got the hell out of there.
I hurried outside, trying to outrun my disturbing fantasies. Who had thoughts like that anyway? I pushed it all out of my mind and tried to think of pleasant things. The thing was, I couldn't think of anything. The mac & cheese at supper was good. Taryn Yates wasn't able to kick my ass. The yard was mowed and it was Anthony's turn next, so I wouldn't have to do it for a couple of weeks at least. That's the best I could do, which didn't help me to feel better about myself.
I walked to the park. Leif and his harem were long gone and that was fine by me. I wanted to be alone. No one much liked me anyway. I suppose that was to be expected. I wasn't exactly a nice guy, my clothing showed 'poverty,' and I tended to be moody and angry. Stuff like that didn't exactly make a guy popular. I preferred being alone anyway. What was the use of others when they just…
The ground rushed up at me and a fist punched me in the back. I tried to get up, but Taryn tackled me again. I hadn't even seen him. What did he do, hang out in the park waiting to ambush unsuspecting boys? He forced me onto my back and punched me in the face. I managed to break free, get to my feet, and punch him in the stomach, but I think it hurt my fist worse than his abs. He snarled. He tackled me again, sat on my chest and repeatedly slugged me until he was satisfied. When he got off me, I rolled onto my side. He gave me a kick in the stomach and then stalked away while I moaned and cried.
I hated my life. This was it. I'd had enough. There wasn't one goddamned thing about my life that made it worth living. I'd thought about ending it before. I'd made plans. I'd even set out to do it, but had lost my nerve. Fuck it! This time I was going to do it.
I limped home, entered the garage, and retrieved the coil of rope from where I'd placed it after I'd chickened out a couple of months before. I slung it over my shoulder and headed for the football field.
It was nearing sunset and was late enough that all the sports teams were gone. I was getting chilly. I should have thought to grab a jacket, but I wouldn't be chilly for long. Well, I would be. My body would be cold after I killed myself, but that wouldn't matter. Once I was dead, I would feel no pain. That's what I truly wanted, for all the pain to stop.
I climbed to the very top of the bleachers and looked down. It was a long way to the ground. I was afraid of heights, but when I jumped, I wouldn't have to worry about falling very far. The rope would stop me.
As I fashioned a noose and put it around my neck, I wondered who would find me. I hoped it was one of the jocks and I hoped it would give him nightmares. Maybe I'd become a ghost and I could haunt and torment the stuck-up assholes who played football and other sports.
I tied the rope to the top of the railing and then climbed up onto it. I made the mistake of looking down again. I felt dizzy and I trembled with fear. I hadn't made it this far the last time I decided to kill myself. I didn't even make it halfway to the football field before I chickened out. I wasn't turning back this time. If I did, I'd be a coward on top of everything else. Yeah, that would be the cherry on top of the sundae that was my worthless life. Did that even make sense? I guess it didn't matter.
I climbed a little higher. I held tightly to the top railing. One more step and I'd be standing on it. I felt dizzier. I hoped I could keep my balance long enough to do this right. Tears began to fill my eyes. This time I was going to do it.
"Wait! What are you doing? Don't! Please! Stop!"
"Fuck," I said to myself and then shouted, "just leave me alone."
I didn't need a fucking audience.
"No. Please. Wait."
I turned and looked to see who had interrupted me. I froze. It was Leif, the blond pretty boy with the killer bod.
"Please come down. We'll talk. Things can't be so bad you have to kill yourself."
"You don't know me!" I shouted.
"No, but don't throw your life away. Please."
"What do you care? What's it to you?"
"I care. I don't have to know you to care."
"Well, stop caring and go away. I don't have anything to live for."
"You do."
"What do I have to live for? The older brother who bullies me or the younger one that is so much of a pain in the ass I want to kill him? Getting my ass kicked by another bully? Walking in the hallways knowing no one likes me."
I began to choke up. I had to stop talking because I was crying too hard.
"I like you."
"You don't know me! You're just saying that! No one likes me. Why should they? I'm a loser."
"You're not a loser."
"You don't know me!" I repeated again. "Even my dad doesn't like me! That's why he's never home. He hates me like everyone else. I hate me. my life isn't like yours. My life is a great big bowl of suck."
I began crying again like a great big baby. It was one last humiliation before the end.
"I can't live knowing I let you kill yourself."
"That's your problem, but I'll tell you now, I'm not worth it.
"Yeah, it's my problem," he said, coming closer.
"Stay back!"
He ignored me, but he didn't try to grab me. Instead, he climbed up on the railing next to me.
"What are you doing?"
"If you jump, I jump. I hope you won't make me because I really don't want to die."
"I've watched Titanic . It's not going to work."
I swung my leg over. He did too. His foot on the inner side of the railing slipped and he tumbled forward. I grabbed him to keep him from falling and we both nearly went over the side, but I managed to lean back toward the bleachers and we both tumbled down the steps. It hurt like hell, especially when the rope caught on the bleachers and the noose tightened around my neck. I couldn't breathe. I clawed at the rope around my neck, but I couldn't loosen it. He lurched toward me, grabbed the rope, and managed to loosen the noose. I drew in a huge lungful of air and began bawling. He took me in his arms and held me.
I cried for the longest time. I bawled like a baby. I hurt so bad inside I couldn't bear it, and on top of that, I was embarrassed and humiliated. I still wanted to die. I felt hopeless and valueless.
I don't know how long it was before I stopped crying, but Leif held me close the entire time. He didn't speak. He just held me. finally, I pulled back and wiped my eyes.
"I guess you think I'm weak and a big loser," I said.
"No. I think you're someone in a lot of pain. My uncle told me that when someone is suicidal it's because their problems have overwhelmed them. They simply can't deal with all the pain in their life and they believe the only solution is to kill themselves."
"That's pretty much it. My life isn't worth living."
"Yeah, that's how my uncle said he felt when he tried to kill himself."
I looked at him. He nodded.
"When he told me, I couldn't believe he had ever tried to commit suicide. He's my cool uncle, the one I want to be like. I couldn't imagine him ever feeling worthless."
"What happened?"
"He took a bunch of pills, tranquilizers mainly, but instead of dying, he woke up the next day. He said his first thought was, 'you idiot, what were you thinking?'"
He began to laugh and it actually made me smile.
"The way he said it was hilarious."
He grimaced and held his arm.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, it's only a few scrapes and bruises. It's not bad considering I almost fell off the back of the bleachers. Thanks for saving me by the way."
"You don't have to thank me. You were trying to save me."
"Regardless. Thank you. I don't know if the fall would have killed me or not, but landing would not have been enjoyable either way."
"I'm sorry."
"Hey, it was my choice to climb up on the railing."
"Yeah, but you did it because of me."
"It was still my choice. I'd really not get up there again, so I'd really appreciate it if you didn't try to hang yourself."
"You make it sound like you're asking for a favor."
"I am."
He looked at me. He meant it. I don't know how he arrived at that conclusion, but that's the way he saw it.
"You could have let me finish what I started," I said. "I appreciate your concern, but believe me; I'm not worth it. I'm not that nice of a person and I am a big loser. I'm the biggest loser you'll ever meet in your entire life."
"Nope. Sorry. I'm involved now. I can't walk away. I also don't want you to kill yourself. You'd be sorry tomorrow."
"Uh…"
"You know what I mean."
"I don't know. I just want to end it all. I'm tired of not having any friends. I'm tired of… everything."
I nearly started crying again. I was a big baby.
"I can't comment on the everything, but as far as friends are concerned, I'm starting to like you."
"What's to like about me?"
"If you think you're such a big loser, you've got to be an interesting guy. You're also kind of funny."
"You find suicide attempts amusing? Do you also go to funerals for laughs?"
"See. Right there. That's funny. I'll make you a deal. If you don't kill yourself this evening, I'll buy you a sundae at the Hornet's Nest."
"I…"
"Please? I want to get the chance to know you. Like I said, I'm starting to like you. You can always kill yourself tomorrow. Why not have a sundae before you go?"
"Well…"
"Come on, what else do you have to do this evening? You can't claim to have plans. You were going to kill yourself. Surely a sundae is better than hanging dead at the end of a rope. Besides, the good thing about suicide is that you can always do it later. If you can convince me that your life truly sucks, maybe I'll help you."
I shook my head. This kid was… different.
"Please," he said.
"Stop giving me the puppy dog eyes."
"Please," he asked again and then he whined slightly and I swear it sounded just like a puppy.
"Okay! Okay! I can't take that."
"So, you like puppies? I thought you said you are a bad person. You can't be a bad person if you like puppies."
I growled in frustration. He removed the rope from around my nec, then untied it from the bleachers and coiled it neatly. With his free hand, he grasped mine and we walked down the steps together. I almost didn't notice when he tossed the rope into a trash can as we passed.
A few minutes later, we entered the Hornet's Nest and sat down in a booth. It was late in the evening so it was practically empty.
"What kind of sundae do you like?" he asked.
"Caramel."
"Oh, me too."
When our waiter arrived, he ordered two large caramel sundae's and two Cokes.
"I like to drink Coke when I eat ice cream. I like the fizz."
"I like that too," I said.
"This is only the second time I've been in here, but I love this place," he said.
"Yeah, I thought you were new. Chouteau isn't all that big of a place."
"Yeah, it is very small. I'm from San Diego."
"Why would anyone from San Diego move to this dinky little town?"
"I'm a famous movie star and I'm hiding from the paparazzi."
"If you're so famous, why don't I recognize you?"
"I have an amazing disguise and it must be working. Don't blow my cover."
I gazed at him with a level stare.
"Okay. I'm not really famous. My dad just retired from the navy about six months ago?"
I nodded.
"Mom and dad were going to stay out there, but they decided to move back here a few months ago. They just got to many problems out there. My mom has a lot of family around here and it seemed like the right time to move. The fact is, California is a great place to live, but it's just going to hell, or so it seems sometimes. Plus, we didn't have any family back in San Diego"
"I think my parents are going to divorce."
I'm not sure why I blurted it out, but it was one of the things that had been stressing me out.
"Oh, that's rough. Hopefully, they won't."
"I figure they are splitting because of me. I have two brothers. My older brother is a bully and my younger a pain in the ass, but I'm the one that a huge disappointment."
"Listen, parents' divorce because they have problems, not because of their kids. It's not your fault any more than it is the fault of any other kid when their parent's divorce."
"Maybe you're right, but I still feel like it's because of me. I know they're disappointed in me."
"That's the way it feels, but it isn't true."
I laughed grimly for a moment.
"I actually hated you when I first spotted you this morning. I knew you were new and already you fit in better than me. I had you pegged as a stuck-up golden boy."
"Do you still hate me?"
"I never hate anyone who buys me ice cream," I said with a slight smile.
"I'll admit I'm good in school and in athletics, but I'm not stuck up. I have great parents as well as two great little brothers, but my life isn't all ice cream and caramel sauce."
He seemed sad for a moment, but so quickly recovered I wasn't sure if he had been sad at all.
"You're still a golden boy compared to me."
"Just remember. Everyone has problems. No matter how cool their life may seem, they have problems."
"I'm sure you're right, but I don't know their problems. I only know mine."
"Yeah, that's how it works. That's the trick."
Our ice cream arrived. We both took a spoonful and then a sip of Coke. He took too big a sip and had to hold his hand over his mouth to keep from spewing fizz. I laughed.
"I almost sprayed the table," he said.
"That would have sucked."
"Where do you sit at lunch in the cafeteria?" he asked.
"I sit with the other rejects."
"Will you sit with me tomorrow? Please?"
"Listen, you're a great guy, but you don't have to babysit me, or take me on as a charity case."
"That's not it. I want to you to sit with me. I don't know about you, but I am enjoying sitting here talking to you and eating ice cream."
"There won't be any ice cream at school tomorrow."
"Oh, you never know. Ice cream can sneak up on you at any moment. Besides, I'm more interested in you than ice cream."
"I feel special."
"So, sit with me?"
"Are you going to do that puppy dog eye thing if I don't say yes?"
"Yes, I am."
"Okay then, I'll sit with you."
I couldn't help but smile a little. I liked him. He wasn't at all like I thought he was this morning.
"Listen, you won't tell anyone about what I was going to do, will you?"
"No, but I am concerned about you. Maybe you should talk to someone."
I shook my head.
"I'm not talking to anyone."
"Will you at least promise me that you won't kill yourself for a week? If you feel like it, if you're thinking about doing it, will you call me instead? Will you do that, for a week?"
I hesitated, but only for a moment. I already felt like I didn't want to kill myself. Perhaps he had saved me from a huge, irreversible mistake.
I nodded.
"I promise."
He released a sigh of relief.
"Thank you. I couldn't have slept tonight if you hadn't promised. Hand me your phone."
"I don't have one."
"Okay. Here's my number," he said, writing it on a napkin. He handed it to me. "Don't lose it."
"Why are you so concerned about me? The first time we talked was less than an hour ago."
"I'm concerned about everyone, everywhere. There are so many horrible things going on right now I can't stand it. I try to avoid even knowing about most of it because there is nothing I can do to change things, but when I come across someone in pain, I have to try to help."
"You're the kind of person who wants to adopt all the animals at the animal shelter, aren't you?" I asked.
"Yeah. I can't go in animal shelters because I want to take them all home."
I smiled.
"I like that."
"Honestly? Sometimes I wish I didn't care so much. My life would be a lot easier, but then I see people who care about no one but themselves and I know I do not want to be like them. I'd rather experience daily heartbreak than be heartless."
"So, you don't want to be like me?"
"You aren't heartless."
I shrugged.
"I hate jocks and I'm not too fond of anyone else. Everyone looks down on me, so fuck them."
"You've been hurt; I'm guessing a lot of times. It's natural to feel the way you do, but that doesn't mean you're heartless. If you saw a kitten wondering around in traffic, I bet you'd rescue it. If our situations were reversed an hour ago, I bet you would have tried to keep me from killing myself."
I shrugged, but deep down I know he was right.
"You're not heartless. Life hasn't been good to you so you react the way most anyone would react."
"No. I'm evil. I like watching A Christmas Carol backwards so that Scrooge goes from kind and generous to stingy and uncaring. The same thing with It's A Wonderful Life . I like to watch Jimmy Stewart's character go from happy and content to miserable."
He laughed.
"You are such a liar."
"No. at Christmas, I go around telling little kids there is no Santa Claus and what's especially evil about that is that I believe in Santa Claus."
I grinned.
"I told you that you were funny."
I shrugged.
We talked and finished our sundaes and Cokes. Leif left a tip and we walked outside.
"Let me walk you home," he said.
"No. Let me walk you home." He hesitated. "I gave you my word, I promised not to kill myself for a week. I may not be a very good person, but I do keep my word. I also don't feel so much like killing myself anymore."
He smiled.
"Okay then."
The light was failing. I enjoyed walking by his side. I felt an urge to take his hand. This morning, I despised him on sight and now I was having war fuzzy thought about him. No one could accuse me of being consistent. I didn't reach out to take hand. This was not a date. He had stepped in to keep me from hanging myself and then had been kind enough to talk with me and buy me ice cream. That was all and that was plenty. He had saved my life. I was certain that I would have jumped had he not intervened, and tomorrow morning someone would have found my dead body.
"This is it," he said, stopping in front of a huge house. I couldn't see it well in the dark, but I was sure it was better than ours. "I just realized I don't know your name."
"I'm Owen."
"I'm Leif. Thanks for walking me home."
"Thanks for… everything," I said.
That didn't begin to cover it, but what could I say?
He smiled at me and then he hugged me.
"Good night. I'll see you at lunch tomorrow."
"Good night. I'll be there."
He turned and walked inside. I headed for home.
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