Wes - 2007

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“Whatcha got, Skidmarks?” Matt sidles up next to me, just like I knew he would. He’s so predictable it’s funny. No, it’s sad. Ten years from now, they’ll put his picture next to peaked in high school in the dictionary.

Except they won’t.

I hide my smirk under a flinch, and my hands behind my back. “Nothing.”

“Yeah?” He grabs my arm. I clench my fist tight: can’t give it up too easy. “Huh. Playing hard to get?” He twists my arm behind my back. It hurts, ligaments still loose from last time. I don’t have to fake my scream when Matt grinds my face into the bricks. “Open your hand.”

“No—fuck off.”

He pries my fingers open one by one. I whimper to keep him interested. He likes that, seeing me snivel.

“What’s this, then?” He waves the little fold of paper in my face.

“Told you, nothing. Get off me.”

“No-thing. Get off me.” Matt unwraps it himself, keeping me pinned to the wall with a casual shoulder. “Seriously—what is this?”

“Aspirin. Give it back.”

“Bullshit.” He pulls my head back. My scalp burns as he twists his fingers in my hair. “Tell you what: you almost made me fail chemistry, getting me suspended the way you did. So you tell me what you got, and I won’t smash your teeth in, right now.”

“So, what, you’ll smash them later?”

Matt drives my face into the wall. He doesn’t pull back fast enough: the tip of my nose grazes the brick. “I’ll make you tell and smash ‘em anyway. Five...four...three—”

“Ecstasy!” I go limp in his grasp, the picture of despair. “It’s ecstasy, okay? Go ahead. Throw it down the drain, or whatever. Just leave me alone.”

“Whoa!” Matt finally lets go, the better to examine his prize. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Whatever.”

“Just the one tab, though? What’s the matter?—no one to do it with?”

Just you.

I pout in silence, letting my shoulders sag.

Matt claps me on the shoulder. “Thanks, Skidmarks! See you at school.”

I shut my eyes to keep my excitement from showing. He’s taken the bait. Now, all I have to do is hope he holds off till tonight. Surely not even Matt would gobble his treat before the party gets started.

I straighten my jacket and hitch up my pants. My cheek’s stinging where Matt mashed it into the wall. I pick at it, digging my nails in to make my eyes water. By the time Kate arrives, the tears are streaming down my cheeks. I wipe them away as she gets out of her car. Shrink in on myself as she approaches.

“Wes? What happened?” She picks up her pace, jogging across the parking lot. “You trip, or something?”

“No. Matt, he—never mind.” I sniffle. Wipe my nose. “Forget it. Did you get them?”

“Hell, yeah. Cleaned out both feeder tanks, and the fancy rats, too.” Her grin fades as she brushes my hair out of the way. “Shit, Wes. There’s, like, gravel in your face.”

“It’s fine. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.”

I let her drag me into the gas station, past the attendant, snagging the bathroom key as she goes. She sits me down on the toilet lid and grabs a handful of paper towels. The soap stings worse than the brick did; worse than my nails, even. I let myself cry for real, but only a little. Not enough to get snotty.

I don’t like being that close to Matt. Hate being alone with him. But being close to Kate, that’s nice. She’s gentle. Careful. Nobody else is like that.

“He’ll get his tonight.” Kate ruffles my hair. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from leaning into her. It’d be so good to rest my cheek against her stomach. I could do it. She’d hold me close. Rub my back. She wouldn’t push me away, but it might get weird. Might cross a line. She has to do that, or I won’t know it’s real.

I zone out some while she washes my face. Tonight...it’ll be all right. The nerves die immediately, when you burn to death. You don’t feel it, not really. Not for long. What Matt does, you feel that. And then you keep feeling it. I’m trading a few seconds of his pain for...who knows how many hours of anguish he’d inflict, after high school? Through college? And if he had kids—

“Hey.” Kate chucks me under the chin. “Where’d you go?”

I try on a timid smile. “My happy place.”

“Yeah? Where’s that?”

“Picnic Island. After tourist season.” I do like it there. Paddled out one Monday last October, instead of going to class. It was so quiet I could hear the leaves falling off the trees. If I believed in heaven, I guess I’d picture it like that. Except Kate would be there, and we’d have a house, and Max would be our dog. Something stupid and drooly, like a Saint Bernard.

Kate pats me on the shoulder. “Wait here. I’ll grab some Polysporin.”

“They have that here?”

“Yup.” She flashes me a grin. “Guess they get a lot of tourists with fishhooks through their thumbs.”

It hurts to laugh, but for Kate, I manage it.

I could still call it off. Just...not do it. Let him live.

I can hear Kate out there, joking with the gas station guy. It could be her, one day, alone with Matt Danbury.

I’m doing the right thing.