Randomly walking around the library, Luke kept wondering why he couldn't find Nate. Billy had called and said he'd be there earlier than they had planned, not a conversation he wanted to lengthen any more than needed. Luke agreed to tell everyone. He still found it hard to digest, that Nate would consider Billy an ally, taking into account that for all they knew, that Billy could be as crazy as his older brother. He'd managed to let everyone else know, but the thing was, that after three voice mails, Nate wasn't answering his cell or any text messages. About an hour before, he had told Luke that he'd be studying at the library. Luke had a class at that time, but his professor hadn't been able to show up and sent a TA to dismiss the class after ten minutes of waiting. So he decided to find Nate and warn him in case he'd run late. Now as he roamed in between bookshelves, he spotted Professor Hawthorne running his fingers over a line of books, probably searching for one in particular.
"Good afternoon Professor," Luke said from behind him.
Looking back, Professor Hawthorne smiled as he said, "Mr. Halliwell, looking for backup on your Native American Tribe assignment?"
"Not really, I already have the info I need, it's actually a research done by some anthropologists from UT in Austin. They did an ethnological research with the Misquitos in Nicaragua," he answered.
"Oh yes, back when they thought the Misquitos were savage, illogical people, right?" Professor Hawthorne asked as he kept searching for a book.
"Yes, that's the one, I'm using that one and later studies that prove how many of the Amerindian tribes were underestimated in early research," Luke said.
"So, you're taking a deeper look into something where others couldn't find anything of value. Sounds like the type of thing one could expect of you Mr. Halliwell," Professor Hawthorne said smiling.
Luke couldn't fight the blush that covered his face. "Thank you, I just think those researchers might have overlooked things because of their background," he went on.
"And they most likely did, relativism was the rule back then, they judged what they saw, based on the values and thoughts of a more developed society than the one they were studying. Have you read Herkovits' essay on the science of cultural anthropology?" The professor asked him.
"Not really, though I think he was the one that started the whole current of not judging based on differences right?" Luke asked him.
"Well, he was one of the many responsible for it, as was Michelle du Montaigne in his essay about cannibalism, way earlier than anyone else. If you take Anthropological Theories I next semester, I will probably be able to go over all of that with you, but you should read it anyways," Professor Hawthorne said.
"Wouldn't miss being in your class for anything in the world," Luke said and smiled as he looked down, and then looking up he remembered why he had come up to the Professor in the first place. "Professor Hawthorne, do you remember the guy that sometimes waits in the door of the class where you give American Ethnology?"
The Professor seemed to think for a few seconds before nodding. "I seem to recall a tall, dark haired, broad-shouldered young man, is that the one you mean?" He asked back at Luke's question.
"Yes, that's Nate, have you seen him around here?" Luke asked.
"I'm sorry; I haven't seen him anywhere around here. Is he a friend of yours?" Professor Hawthorne asked.
"Yes, well, ohm... He's my boyfriend," Luke answered, knowing that he had turned at least as red as a tomato.
"Oh, so he waits for you to get out of class, how romantic," Professor Hawthorne said with a huge smile on his face.
The smile seemed so genuine that Luke couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah, he's great," he said.
"I'm glad. You're a good young man Mr. Halliwell, you deserve a good man on your side," Professor Hawthorne said and then looked behind them and waved at someone. As he looked back, Luke realized he was waving at Mrs. Hepburn; she was walking with the aid of a cane. However, she wasn't wearing the orthopedic collar that she wore for over a week after her fall.
"Good afternoon Mr. Halliwell, how are you?" she asked as she approached them.
"I'm fine Mrs. Hepburn, and I'm glad to see you're doing a lot better yourself," he answered.
"Oh I am, thankfully. Except for this cane, I am just fine," she answered smiling. Becca was right, after her accident, it seemed like Mrs. Hepburn had softened and gotten friendlier.
"Mrs. Hepburn, have you seen Nate around here by any chance?" He asked.
She thought for a few seconds before answering, "No, I don't believe I have seen Mr. Thompson around here since a few weeks ago."
Luke tried to hide his discomfort, and realized both Professor Hawthorne and Mrs. Hepburn noticed the change in his mood. Professor Hawthorne spoke up, luring attention away from him. "Madame, I do believe you're one of the librarians that work here, or am I wrong?" Professor Hawthorne asked her.
"Not at all, were you looking for a book in particular?" she asked him.
"Yes, I was. However, I can't seem to find it," Professor Hawthorne answered.
As they talked about the book the Professor was looking for, Luke got lost in his thoughts. Nate had lied to him, and Mrs. Hepburn was on call every afternoon and evening during the weekdays, meaning that if Nate had been to the library after class, she would have seen him. It had been weeks since he had taken the habit of studying at the library after class. Weeks since this lie had been going on.
* * *
His parents hadn't gotten home yet, and he had found the key to his father's safe. All he needed was some time. As he walked from the stairs to his father's office, his stomach churned. Worry would take over him, then curiosity would beat the worry, now, curiosity lead the way. He had to get going if he expected to get to Washington U, in time to meet up with his brother's friends. He chuckled. Michael's friends, that was the only way that he had kept referring to the guys that had jumped him the previous week, at Jones' house. They were the only people, as far as he knew, that Michael had frequented while being at Washington U. Yet, he had never mentioned any of them to Billy, nor had he mentioned Billy to any of them.
The office was shrouded in shadows, lit by a little light that managed to creep its way in from the hallway. The back wall of the room had a huge bookshelf covering it, from floor to ceiling. The sidewalls of the room had several pictures hanging from them. Michael, Billy and their mother were in most of them, while Billy's dad only appeared in a few. After walking around the desk, he opened the bottom drawer, stopping to stare at the gun his father kept in there. 'Best to avoid it,' he thought, as he picked up a small black cardboard box. He stared down at the key after removing the box's lid. Looking back, he stared at the middle of the bookshelf, just about at level with his face. He'd already spied on his father once, realizing that the same portion of the bookshelf that he was staring at, was the place where his safe was hidden behind. That very same day, he'd seen his father putting Michael's medical record into the safe, after telling Billy that there was nothing of interest in the records, and that the records were kept safely at the hospital. Still, Dr. Murphy hadn't been able to get any records from the hospital, so getting them from the safe was probably the only way to actually get to know something.
After taking out several of the books, he ended up finding a square door, about twelve inches in height and nine in width. It had a small keyhole on the left edge, right at the middle. The key went in smoothly and the door opened in one left upward turn. The safe had only one folder inside, labeled: Schozsinky, M. He snatched the folder out, closed the safe, locked it and started putting the books back into place, hoping he'd actually remembered the order they were in. His heartbeat sped up, his palms got sweaty and he felt cold. He knew that his parents were not home, yet he felt as if he was about to get caught any minute now. His mom was clueless, but his dad had been hiding stuff from him, he was sure of that. He walked away and placed the key back into its box, shoving the drawer closed without looking at the gun. Dashing out of the house, he felt the folder burning against his chest after placing it inside his hoodie and zipping it up.
* * *
"I'd like to try and talk a little bit more about your father today," Dr. Reyes said as he stretched out on the sofa.
"I don't really like to talk about him," Nate answered flatly.
"We sometimes don't like to talk about things that we actually do need to talk about," Dr. Reyes retorted.
Nate sighed, he expected as much. Dr. Reyes had a way of keeping things polite, yet he would also make his point clear. "He's an asshole," he said answering Dr. Reyes' previous question.
"I figured as much, yet it seems like we are still on you're routine," Dr. Reyes said as he eyed his notes.
"What routine?" he asked.
"The one where you give me short sentences, that don't really answer anything you haven't made clear since our first session three weeks ago."
"What is that supposed to mean? We have talked stuff out," Nate answered sitting up.
"No, you have told me few things, you have talked about how you feel now and of current events in your life. Yet, you haven't gone deep on any of the issues that you mentioned on our first session. We have talked about your breakup earlier this year, how you got back together with your boyfriend, about your friend that lost his parents and brother, about your friend and her felon ex-boyfriend, and about your cousins and your late uncle. But, up until now, you haven't said anything about your parents, about this lover you had in high school, or about your parents kicking you out," Dr. Reyes said and looked straight into his eyes after reciting all of these from his notepad.
Nate felt cornered; he looked up at Dr. Reyes and got a smile in response from the older man. He looked back to his own feet, at the foot of the sofa and then up to the office's ceiling. "Sometimes, opening up can be hard, but you need to remember that I am here to help you, but I can't help you, not unless you let me," Dr. Reyes said, getting Nate to look back at him.
"I hate to even think about all of that shit," Nate said with his eyes closed.
"That's understandable, yet keeping all of those thoughts inside could cause that shit to turn into some serious shit," Dr. Reyes said smiling and Nate chuckled in response.
He took a deep breath, knowing that Dr. Reyes was waiting for him to begin. "My dad, he was so sexist and thick headed... We always had to do what he'd tell us. If we didn't do as we were told... He'd beat the crap out of us."
"You mean us, as in not only you, but you're mother and sister too?" Dr. Reyes asked him, while he took his never-ending short notes.
"Yeah, I barely ever saw him lay a hand on my mom, but I remember when he used to hit Susie..." Nate's eyes fogged with tears. "Sometimes I'd drop something and it would break, you know like a glass or a plate, I used to be very clumsy when I was a kid, and she'd say it had been her. So, he'd kick her ass and she'd tell me to stay quiet about it..." He couldn't hold the tears back anymore. Dr. Reyes held a tissue box before his face. As he looked up, he saw Dr. Reyes looking down at him. His expression was a mix of worry and sadness.
"Tell me about what triggered these aggressions. Was it always because of mistakes or were there other reasons why he'd hit you?" Dr. Reyes asked him.
"He'd hit us because he felt like it, sometimes we wouldn't do anything and he'd just lose it, sometimes if he didn't like how the salad tasted, or if it was sunny and he'd have to go reap the crops, he'd use anything as an excuse to hit us," Nate said as he wiped his face with the tissues.
"So there wasn't a real pattern to his violence, violence was just his usual response to everything," Dr. Reyes said, not really asking, rather taking note on it.
"Yeah, and Susie was the one that always stood up for us. I remember a few times when my parents would be fighting, and then Susie would get in between so my dad would lay off my mom," Nate said before letting out a sigh.
"She took you in when your dad kicked you out of the house, didn't she?" Dr. Reyes asked.
"Yeah, my dad kicked her out when she was sixteen, because she got pregnant," Nate said and then wiped a few tears from his face.
"I take it that pretty much landed all of your dad's attention on you," Dr. Reyes said.
"It pretty much did," Nate confirmed.
"Parents tend to double their efforts whenever one of their children gets out of the mental image they had of how their children were supposed to grow. After your sister left, he realized that none of the previous abuse he had been displaying had done the trick. Foolishly, he thought that becoming more violent and abusive was the way to make you into what he thought you should be," Dr. Reyes told Nate.
"I'd never say this to her face, but sometimes I think that Susie saw her pregnancy as a way out. She was sick of my parents, sick of my dad and his constant breathing down our necks, and my mom's cowardice about him. How stupid was he to not realize that his way was just not going to work?" Nate asked.
"Sometimes it's not really a matter of who is stupid and who is smart. In his mind, and I guess it might be due to how he was raised, he thought that a dominant approach was the best way of parenting. Do you know much about how he got along with your grandparents?" Dr. Reyes asked him.
"Now that you mention it, he used to say that now parents couldn't do what they should in order to raise their kids, that in the old days his mom would beat him with a hot iron to straighten him up and shit like that. He once said his dad had beat him so hard once that he'd bled for days while they had him locked in his room, and warned me that he would do the same to me unless I'd start doing what he'd tell me to do," Nate said.
"And what would it be that he'd want you to do? Was this about school? Friends, work?" Dr. Reyes asked him.
"About most things, he wanted me to try out for football, but I am asthmatic, so I couldn't have done anything worth the while in the team. So of course, he blamed it on my mother and 'her feeble genes' as he called it, and said it was all her fault that I was a sissy," he answered.
"Would he refer to your mother that way a lot, I mean regarding the things that he disliked in you?" Dr. Reyes asked him.
"Always," Nate answered, as he shifted in the sofa. "Still, he kept pushing me to practice with him, later on I mean, he said the doctors didn't know shit about anything and that I could do it. He took me to the tryouts and tried to explain to me all about the game as we were driving to the school's gym. I didn't get shit about it, and I still don't, so I ended up wheezing after running like an idiot before the coach pulled my dad aside and told him that I just wasn't good enough and that maybe I could try the following year.
"On the way back home, he kept yelling at me and poking me hard on the chest. He said that I was just as stupid as my mom was, that I had made him look like an ass... Yada yada yada," Nate stopped and took a deep breath with his eyes closed, furrowing his brow at the end, then after opening his eyes, he went on. "He kicked my ass so bad that time, and then warned me that I'd better learn how to play before the tryouts for the next year. Of course, I didn't have the slightest intention to do it. I hated football and I still do, I got nothing against people that like it, but I just can't get it," Nate said.
"Some people never develop any interest in sports, just as many people never show any interest in books or sciences," Dr. Reyes said and shrugged his shoulders at him.
"Yeah, apparently my dad never got the message about that. He kept saying it wasn't normal that I didn't like football. A few weeks before the tryouts for the next year, he wanted me to practice and show him what I had learned. Obviously, he wanted to kill me as soon as he realized that I hadn't improved at all. My uncle John had given me a couple of books, for my birthday, they were those Goosebumps books. You know those mystery books for kids?" Nate asked and Dr. Reyes nodded. "So I liked them, I read them through the summer break, but when it was time for tryouts my dad grounded me and said I couldn't read anything. He wanted me to practice all day so I could get on the team.
"My mom didn't get to say anything about it, and if she did then I don't think it did any good. Every day, I had to get up early and run around our farm, then he'd let me have a small breakfast and after breakfast I was supposed to practice with him until lunch time..." Nate paused and looked at his feet.
"I assume he probably had set hard rules for what he was expecting of you," Dr. Reyes said, sensing how Nate was having trouble with telling about his training.
"Yeah," Nate said, still staring at his feet. "If I didn't do good enough then I wouldn't get to eat lunch..."
"That was both torture and a cruel abuse," Dr. Reyes said angrily, interrupting him.
"He said I was already too fat and that it was probably the reason why I was so bad at playing," Nate added.
"Besides the fact that he ignored a medical reason why you couldn't make the cut, he was forcing you to do physical effort without any food to boost your energies. If you ask me, your father is a demented prick, and you should not pay attention to any of the insults or lines he used to feed you," Dr. Reyes replied, rubbing his temples, before gesturing for Nate to go on.
Nate stared back at him with wide eyes, amazed at his sudden outburst, before continuing. "He'd keep track of every day's training in a small note pad he had. So if I hadn't done a good enough job, he'd give me one of his speeches about being a real man and not a crybaby, and then of course he'd smack me around a little before throwing me into my room. He'd have dinner with my mom and tell her that she couldn't give me any food until he'd finish his dinner, because I made him sick and he wanted to enjoy his meals.
"I remember how hungry I'd feel, I'd eat a whole lot, just 'cause I knew that the next day I would have to go through the same," Nate said as he stared at the ceiling.
"And, research shows that eating big meals separated by big gaps of time actually promotes the storing of fat and weight increases," Dr. Reyes said.
"Yeah, when you have a constant intake of food, your body stores very little of it, because your metabolism becomes faster, that way, if you eat small portions separated by small gaps of time your weight will become more stable," Nate said.
"Now I see why you've lost all the weight you tell me you have, you've done your research on this. Your metabolism slows down when you have less meals, because it's your body's way of preparing itself, in case that you don't actually eat. By storing fat, your body actually gives you something to burn in case you don't eat, it'll burn whatever extra fat it has stored and keep you going until you can eat again. If you do have constant small meals, your body will only take the necessary calories to keep you going until the next meal comes, so it won't store any fat. By making you go without lunch and then letting you eat at night, your dad was actually promoting the extra weight he wanted his training to make you lose," Dr. Reyes said.
"Wow, I did some research, but not that much," Nate replied, looking at him wide eyed.
"I have to know this. I've had students with eating disorders and so I had to dig into the subject to help them through their problems," Dr. Reyes said, then looked down at his note pad, and then back at Nate. "So, I've been wondering since you said your father was overseeing this training, who was taking care of the farm while he was busting your nuts?"
Nate chuckled before answering. "He had hired a couple of guys, they used to have a farm a few miles down the road from ours, but they lost their farm because of their father's gambling problem. After they lost their farm, my dad offered them to come and work at ours and they took the job. They lived in this small cottage in the middle of the corn fields, it sucked if you ask me, but I guess my dad was giving them a fair pay because they never complained, of course, they were a couple of idiots too, so maybe that's why they never complained.
"He'd come and give me my instructions and stay with me for a while, but every so often, he'd go and check in with the guys and their work before getting back to me. That's how it went to crap one day..." Nate said and closed his eyes.
"Did you try to run or something?" Dr. Reyes asked him.
"No, I had figured out how long it would take for him to come back after he'd go to check on how the guys were doing with the farm work, so I took one of my books and sat down to read it for a while. But I got caught up in the book and he got back too soon, so he took the book away from me and started beating me. Then he went in the house and went through all of my things, and that's when it hit me, he was looking for the other ones. When he found them, he took all three of them and dragged me outside with him. He threw them into a garbage can and set them on fire..." Nate stopped and then let out a single sob, before covering his face with his hands.
"I'm not even going to ask why he did it, because obviously he did it to discourage your love of reading and try to bend your will to his demands. I'm sorry he burned them, I'm sure they meant a lot to you," Dr. Reyes told him.
"Yeah, my uncle sent them to me for my eleventh birthday, he'd moved away with my cousins when I was eight years old. After my dad kicked Susie out, my uncle had been secretly helping her with money. When my dad found out, he warned Uncle John to stay away from our house for doing it and even threatened him for it. Uncle John got sick of trying to talk my mom into not doing everything my dad told her to and ended up moving away, after Susie got a steady job. They tell me that Ginny had started calling him dad before he moved away, but now she doesn't even remember him.
"When the package arrived, my mom had given it to me secretly and when my dad saw the books she tricked him and said she'd gotten them for me. I think it was the one time I remember her doing something like that for me, if my dad had known they were from my uncle... he'd have burned them from the beginning. They came with a card written by my cousins, saying that Julian had picked them for me and that they loved, and missed me. When I saw the books on fire, I started crying and I told him they were from Uncle John and the twins, when he heard that he started beating me again and then locked me in my room for the rest of the day, saying that tomorrow the training was going to be even worse. Then I heard him and my mother yelling at each other, I remember hearing things breaking, doors slamming and my mom crying. That night was when I decided I wouldn't let him make me do what he wanted anymore.
"The next day when he came to wake me up, I refused to go, I said I wasn't going to go to the tryouts and that I didn't want to play football. He said I didn't have a choice and that I was going to do as he told me to, I told him I wouldn't, but he still dragged me outside. He didn't even let me change, I was still in my pajamas and he wanted me to run around the farm barefoot. But I stood my ground and said I didn't want to play football and that he couldn't make me. Then he lost it, he started beating me and pushing me around trying to make me run, but I sat on the ground, covering my face with my hands and kept yelling at him to leave me alone. I remember he hit me in the gut a couple of times so I ran from him. I ran to the porch of our house and climbed my way to the roof, by the sidewall of the house.
"When he saw me, he tried to climb after me, but he was too heavy to do it. He kept yelling at me to get off the roof or he'd give me an even worse beating. But I kept yelling at him that I wouldn't do what he'd tell me to do anymore, that he could beat me all he wanted and I still wouldn't play football. Then I heard my mom asking him what had happened. She asked me if I was okay and my dad started yelling at her to go away and let him handle me. I told her I was okay and to go away, but they kept arguing and then she started crying and I knew he was hitting her. Then I heard Ross and Bob, the guys that worked at the farm, they were asking my dad to stop and leave my mom alone. I started to climb down from the roof and I saw that they had pulled my dad away from my mom and they were asking him to calm down.
"After a while he said that he was sick of me and that if I wasn't going to be playing football then I would have to work at the farm or he'd have no use for me. My mom told him that I had to do well in school and that he couldn't make me work being so young. He tried to get free from Ross and Bob's grip and told her to shut up and stop disrespecting him. Ross and Bob started asking him to calm down, they said: 'Mr. Nathaniel, little Nate's a good kid, he doesn't need to play football as long as he does good in school.' 'Little Nate's too young to work and he's doing good in school Mr. Thompson give him a break.'
"I thought he was going to kill them, but he calmed down. He still told my mom that he would not accept her talking back at him as she had. He also warned Ross and Bob about not getting involved in his personal business ever again or he'd fire them and make sure they'd remember not to cross him again. Then he warned me that as soon as I started failing in school he'd pull me out of school and get me working on the farm," Nate said wiping tears from his face, after crying softly while telling all he remembered about that day.
"Your dad never got through high school, did he?" Dr Reyes asked him.
"No, he didn't make it through freshman year," Nate answered, as he rubbed his temples.
"I figured, from what you tell me, he either doesn't want to recognize the importance of education or thinks there is no real point to it. I also think that he must have played football, hence the insistence on his part of wanting you to play. Did he play during his young days?" Dr Reyes asked him, and Nate nodded in response. "If he wasn't a good player then maybe there are some traumas behind this whole obsession he has with the sport. Acceptance is something every teenager wants, one way or the other. If he in fact wasn't a good player, then maybe he still has issues about whatever rejection he faced during his teenage years. Most people, who face bullying in one way or the other and never get to deal with it, end up either manifesting a form of it, or trying to fight it, hardly, softly or all out. And before you give me an input on this theory, I can assume that when your dad talked about his playing skills, he said he was either the best player, or one of the best in his team, am I right?" Dr Reyes asked him.
Nate was shocked as he answered, "Yes, in fact, he always said that he thought I had been switched at the hospital, and that I couldn't be his son, because of how bad I play... How did you come up with this?"
"He wouldn't be the first person to want to make up for the skills they never displayed, through their children. It's more common than many a person would think, the fear of seeing a son, or daughter, making the mistakes they made in their youth. It can be incredibly overpowering. Still, I think that with your father it is more of a matter of pride. The rejection he felt when he was young must have pushed him into thinking that by turning you into what he never was, could somehow emend his lack of skill, or fill the void he felt by not playing as well as he wished he had," Dr. Reyes answered.
"I don't like this," Nate said flatly, "You're making it sound as if he isn't responsible for all of the things he's done."
"Oh no, I am not implying that at all. He is responsible for acting the way he did, and it doesn't matter that he probably was treated the same, or even worse than how he treated you. He chose to beat you around, to abuse you, and to repeat all of the aggressions that his parents probably played on him. If he had tried to break the chain of abuse, then things would have been different, but the thing is that he didn't. When his abuse took place, he didn't look for help. I don't know whether it was because of his pride, or because he thought he could handle it. The thing is that he made the choice to be the person who he is, and that means that by breaking the chain and challenging his will, you made the choice to be better than him, or his parents," Dr. Reyes said and waited for Nate's reaction.
Tears came to his eyes, but he fought them away. Instead, he smiled and got a smile in return from Dr. Reyes. "Thank you," he said as he wiped his eyes.
"On the contrary, thank you. I had been hoping that you'd open up sooner or later, but this was more than I had expected," Dr. Reyes replied.
A knock on the door drew them out of their conversation; Dr. Reyes' secretary peeked her head in. "Your appointment for six is here already," she said.
"Oh my, we overdid it, didn't we?" Dr. Reyes asked as he got up.
"I was supposed to leave half an hour ago," Nate mumbled as he got up, picked his backpack off the floor and started walking towards the door.
"See you next week Nate," Dr. Reyes said as he walked out.
"Sure thing, take care Dr. Reyes," he said as he picked up his pace, already worrying about having lost track of time.
* * *
"Do we even know where he's at?" Martin asked him. Then he looked at Billy who was still staring down at the folder, on top of the desk.
"He said he'd be at the library, I'm sure he's just running late," Luke answered, trying to act as if it was true.
"What is he doing? Fucking the librarian?" Billy asked as he briskly rubbed his hands together.
"Ewwww!" Martin said shivering a little.
"Why don't you open the fucking folder and stop giving us such a hard time?" Luke asked him feeling jealousy about the implication of Billy's words, mixed with the fear that finding out about Nate's lies had been stirring in him since earlier that day.
"Why don't you fuck off?" Billy asked him, glaring up at him.
"In case you've forgotten this is my room," Luke answered.
"Just chill out the two of you," Martin said and they both nodded, looking away from each other. Billy started looking around the room, without actually moving his head, just shifting his eyes here and there. He was so afraid of opening the folder and finding out whatever was inside of it that he just tried to draw his attention away from it. These guys were obviously heavy readers. The shelves on both sides of the room were packed with books: one side with dictionaries, books on grammar, composition and punctuation. While the other was packed with books about culture, society and several titles on anthropology. Anthropology and English majors, Luke had just taken a seat on the bed that was on the side of the room with all of the anthropology books, so he assumed that made him the anthropology major and Nate the English major.
He scanned more carefully the titles of Nate's books. He had a huge Advanced Learner's dictionary and a bunch of several, smaller Dictionaries: a guide to punctuation and style, a synonym and antonym dictionary, a college edition dictionary and... a dictionary of medical terms. Bingo! He had been worrying sick, thinking that there probably were difficult terms in the file that he would have to riddle. Hoping that the dictionary was good, he realized that Luke and Martin were engaged in a conversation that was starting to become heated.
"Chill out Luke, I only wanted to know..." Martin said putting his hands before him in a shielding manner.
"I'm fucking good, okay? Now leave me alone, I told you he's going to be here anytime..." Luke was saying as the door opened and in walked Nate, sweating and breathing heavily.
"Hey," Nate said looking around the room, as a deer caught in the lights of a car. Luke silently glared at him as Martin looked from one to the other.
"Ooooh, there's trouble in wonderland huh?" Billy asked with a wicked grin on his face and chuckling a little.
Martin was about to curse at him when Luke addressed Nate. "Where the fuck have you been?" he asked angrily.
Taken aback, Nate answered shyly: "I was at the library stu...," he was saying when Luke cut him off.
"No you weren't! I went there looking for you and Mrs. Hepburn says she hasn't seen you around in weeks!" Luke yelled.
"I..." Nate started to answer when Luke cut him off again.
"Answer the question, where the fuck were you?" Luke asked angrily again.
"Luke calm down..." Martin said rubbing his temples.
"Stay out of this!" Luke yelled at him.
"Calm down and I'll tell you!" Nate yelled, getting angry.
Billy let out a sigh, now these idiots weren't going to be of any help. He crossed to Nate's bookshelf, right on top of his desk and pulled the Medical term dictionary out. He sat on Nate's bed as Nate and Luke pointed at each other and yelled, while Martin tried to say a few words, only to be interrupted by a new rush of yells from either one of them. Taking the file, he took a deep breath, and then opened it. It stated to be the file containing the medical information of Michael J. Schozsinsky's teenage years, bla, bla, bla. Now, the good stuff, he thought, as he found the entry he was looking for: February 7 of 2003. He looked up when he realized the yelling had ended, and had turned into icy talking.
"As you don't care to tell me where you've been, I think you should probably sleep in your room tonight," Luke told Nate, giving him an icy stare.
"This is my room," Nate said flatly.
"Since you asked to change rooms, your room is in Becca's floor, remember?" Luke asked him.
"Please guys, calm down, why don't the two of you just take a little time to catch some air or something..." Martin started saying as Billy looked down to the file and concentrated on it. The handwriting of the doctor was awful, but he managed to make out what it said:
The patient came in with obvious signs of an overdose. The lab work confirmed a high amount of flunitrazepam, more lab work has ruled out the presence of any STD's. The patient's parents persisted in no further examinations and the patient left on his own will, even though a full physical examination and a psychiatric consult were mandatory in his case.
What the fuck was flunitrazepam? He picked up the dictionary and started to look for the word; he looked up briefly and saw Nate reaching for the doorknob as Martin grabbed his other hand and Luke went into the restroom. As he looked down, he scanned the page and found the definition:
flunitrazepam n: a powerful sedative and hypnotic drug that is not licensed for use in the U.S. but is used medically in other countries and illicitly as a drug of abuse
Drug of abuse... that's why they wanted him to have a psych consult and a full physical... Michael had been raped. He felt suddenly dizzy, then got up and left the room. Once he was out of the room, he realized he was clutching the file and the dictionary to his chest. Then as he looked around the hallway, he saw Nate standing a few feet away. "Taking my dictionary out for a walk?" he asked, "are you feeling okay?"
He realized he was shaking. "Yeah, uhm, could I get you to come with me?"
"Where are you going?" Nate asked him, "Did you even talk to Martin and Luke?"
"No, I think they were too busy fighting with you. It doesn't look like you're gonna have any company for a while, so could you please come with me?" Billy asked him.
Nodding, Nate looked at him in the face, feeling sympathetic because of the pleading tone that Billy was using. "Where are we going?"
"To my house, I need you to come with me, 'cause I might get kicked out for what I'm gonna do," Billy said as he started walking, the file and dictionary still clutched to his chest.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Nate asked, struggling to keep up with Billy, "Wait for me, damn it!"
* * *
The opulence of the house hadn't surprised him that much. He had already figured as much since he found out that Michael's father was into politics. The rooms were very spacious and the décor of the house was quite elegant. However, the rooms of both Billy and Michael seemed like the regular rooms of any teenager. Posters of bands, movies and a few comic book super heroes covered their walls. Besides, in Billy's room, Nate found a shelf filled with books. On closer inspection, he realized that several of them were books that you did not have to read in high school, as far as he could remember. While Billy kept throwing clothes and small items into his gym bag, Nate walked up to the shelf and checked the titles on the bindings. He hadn't heard of several of these books, but he was sure that he had heard some of them were good. Then as he was about to walk away, his eyes caught a very familiar title among the books: A Density of Souls; he took it out and was checking it as Billy approached him from behind.
"A friend of mine gave me that book..." Billy said as he shyly fidgeted with his hands, "Uhm... I..." he started saying as Nate put the book back in the shelf.
"I loved it, my cousin gave it to me for Christmas," Nate said, cutting in.
"You've read it?" Billy asked him, taken a back.
"Yeah, I loved Anne Rice's books, so I thought: why not try her son's?" Nate answered.
"And, you didn't find it weird, or anything?" Billy asked him.
"Not at all, stop being nervous, I'm gay, if you hadn't noticed," Nate answered with a smile on his face.
Billy stepped back and gave him a blank stare. "You're gay?"
"Yeah, I thought you would have guessed it already," Nate said as he walked towards the bed, where Billy had placed the gym bag filled with clothing and his backpack, stuffed full. "Why, you've got a problem with that?"
"No, not really, I mean, I sort of am too..." he said, hating the blush that he felt coming to his face.
"Actually, I had figured as much," Nate replied.
"How?" Billy asked.
"You slept with Scott, remember, it's not like I didn't figure that out when we found you in those pretty much obvious circumstances," Nate answered.
"Oh... I just thought you had not realized, or something," Billy said as he took some of the books and placed hem on top of the clothing that he had filled his gym bag with.
"So you hadn't realized that Luke and I are a couple?" Nate asked him.
"No," Billy answered, wide-eyed, realizing now that it seemed obvious.
"What are we doing here Billy?" Nate asked him, now that he felt they had established at least a somewhat friendlier relation.
"We're taking my stuff, because I realized that my father knew my brother was being abused, that drug I told you about on the way here, they found huge traces of it in Mikey's blood, and my dad was hiding the medical records that proved it," he answered.
Nate had already figured that, since the moment he heard the blood work results showed the rape-drug traces, but he didn't want to even mention it, thinking Billy might actually be offended if he'd imply that. "So, are you just going to leave?"
"No, I'm going to let him know first, and then I'm going to leave," Billy answered.
So, if his dad wants to make him do otherwise, then he expects me to jump in and help him out, Nate thought. "Can I go into Michael's room?"
Billy looked at him, as he was approaching the door to the hallway, with a hesitant look, "just don't move anything, my mom likes to spend time in there and she freaks out if you move anything."
"Ok," he answered, nodding before crossing the hallway into Michael's room. The room looked a lot like Billy's, the only difference being, that Billy's room had some martial art posters and a few dumbbells. Nate walked up to the bed and sat on it, gently running his hand over the black bed quilt that covered it. He looked at the closet and got up, opened it, and checked all the clothes hanging inside. It looked like someone had divided the contents. On one side, he saw clothes that he would definitely wear, while on the other, the clothes looked like it was all expensive designer clothing. He actually pictured Michael dividing the clothes that his parents had bought him, from the clothing that he actually wore and liked. He stopped and looked around, feeling a surprisingly strong wave of sympathy surging through him. The fact that Michael had been abused had confirmed Luke's theory. There had been something horrible that had driven Michael into acts that he had considered to just be the evidence of craziness. While they might have been a cry for help at the beginning, that had ended up turning into a roar of anger, after no one listened to it.
"I think my dad is going to be home soon," Billy said from the door to the bedroom.
"Ok, do you want me to wait outside for you, or what?" Nate asked him.
"I don't know, to be honest I don't even know if I am going to say anything to him, maybe I should just leave," Billy said, once again, fidgeting with his hands.
"Just let me know what you want to do, okay?" Nate said.
"Ok," Billy answered as he walked back to his room. After picking up his bags, Nate met up with him and they started walking down the stairs. When they were about to reach the downstairs floor, Billy stopped in his tracks and stared at the living room. Nate tried to see what Billy was staring at and realized that there was a coat lying on the arm of one of the living room's sofas. "He's here already," Billy said, in little more than a whisper. Nate couldn't help but feel pity for him, since the moment Billy had asked him to come along, Nate felt as if Billy was reaching out to him, lacking anyone else to turn to. Even more, he was sure that Billy had somehow started trusting him; otherwise, he wouldn't have let him in Michael's room. He didn't even need to ponder on it, he knew he was going to stay with him, maybe just to make sure that he'd be okay, or maybe just because he didn't have the balls to admit that he had already started to like him.
"You could just tell him that you're going to stay at our place and make something up about how you know us..." Nate began telling him.
"No, he would automatically say no. Since Mike's arrest we can't leave the house for more than two hours without having him freak out," Billy said, not letting him finish.
"Couldn't we just leave then?" Nate asked.
"No! I need to do this," Billy answered, rather heatedly, "that's the least I owe Mike."
"Okay, I'm sorry," Nate said.
"I'm sorry; I just need to let him know, okay?" Billy asked him.
"Okay, I just am worried of how it will turn out, that's all," Nate answered.
"However it goes, I am not staying here, no fucking way," Billy assured him.
"Okay," Nate said. In a way, it felt almost as if he could relate to Billy's situation, it made him feel just like he'd felt the day that his dad had kicked him out, which probably was the reason that drove him into staying. He followed Billy into the living room, which he was crossing slowly with fear driven steps. Then, Billy turned right and walked into a room filled with bookshelves and a large mahogany desk sitting right in front of the back wall. A tall dark haired man was standing with his back to them, while checking the books in the middle of the shelf behind the desk. Billy stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed it. Nate wanted to ask what was wrong, but just then, the man turned around and looked at them.
Mr. Schozsinky was probably as tall as Michael was, though he had a broader build, just like Billy. His short black hair was gelled back, elegantly, and the royal blue suit he was wearing was probably more expensive than Nate's Laptop. Both of his sons had unmistakably inherited his face, and his glistening, deep blue eyes. "Hello William," he said, with an even, husky voice, while looking at Billy, and then he set his eyes on Nate, "and who could you be?"
"I'm Nathaniel Thompson sir," Nate answered.
"Pleased to meet you Mr. Thompson, are you one of my son's classmates?" Mr. Schozsinsky asked him.
"No, he was one of Mike's friends at Washington U," Billy answered, cutting in before Nate could come up with something.
The look on Mr. Schozsinsky's face had not changed since he'd set eyes on them, it was a good poker face that showed no emotion. "Is that so?" he asked, smiling at Nate, "I didn't really think he had any friends; although, the police said that the ones that had called them claimed to have been his friends at school," he said, not taking his eyes off Nate.
"I did not call the police, but I did stop your son before he did something very stupid, sir," Nate replied, trying to put on a poker face just like Mr. Schozsinsky's. The reaction was obvious, as Mr. Schozsinsky gave him a hard stare, followed by a slight curling at the side of his mouth, which was probably his most spiteful smile.
"You were the one that knocked him unconscious, huh?" he asked, as he walked to his chair, pulled it and took a seat. Gesturing to the two chairs resting in front of the desk, opposite from him, he said, "come on, take a seat, forgive my rudeness for not offering it before, I usually show more hospitality to a guest in my house."
"We're not staying," Billy said, while staring down at the floor.
"May I know where you intend to go?" Mr. Schozsinsky asked him, irony more than explicit in his words.
"I don't know, as long as it is not here, I don't care," Billy answered, looking up. His eyes were full of hate, and Nate realized that they were also beginning to tear up.
"Whatever your mother has told you, it is just a production of her crazed imagination..." Mr. Schozsinsky began saying.
"Don't talk about her like that!" Billy yelled, his father was about to reply, but he didn't let him, "I found out what I needed on my own," he added, and his father leaned back, smiling as he arched his eyebrows.
"So, you were the one that actually worked up the nerve to go through my safe?" he asked.
"Yes, and I'm glad I did, I cannot possibly understand how you could have known all along that Mike had gone through that..." Billy started saying.
"What, you pretend to tell me that you got the file out this afternoon and got a doctor to tell you what it said so soon?" Mr. Schozsinksy asked him angrily.
"No! I used a medical term dictionary that Nate had in his room, and figured it out," Billy answered.
"Great! And what do you think you figured out?" Mr. Schozsinksy asked mockingly.
"Mike was being raped, you knew it and you didn't even let them check him up, or get psychological help!" Billy started saying and ended up yelling in the end.
Mr. Schozkinsky looked shocked; Billy had caught him off guard. Nate actually felt bad for him, so he looked away from him and noticed a safe box. It was right where Mr. Schozsinksy had been standing, when they walked in the room. That was why Billy had hesitated at first. At that moment, Billy had realized his father knew that someone had taken the file. "Aren't you even going to try and come up with an excuse for what you did? An excuse to why you kept Mike's abuse as a secret?" Billy asked his father. Nate looked from one to the other, from the angered son to the cowering father.
"What do you want me to say?" Mr. Schozskinsky answered, his poker face gone, with shame and sadness covering his face.
"Say something, for fuck's sake, but don't just sit there and act like such a coward!" Billy yelled at him.
"When he started acting up, I realized something was wrong," Mr. Schozsinsky said, Billy remained silent, probably thinking, just as Nate that he was about to try to give them a reason. "He wasn't supposed to remember anything; I'd been told that he would not remember a thing. But then, I realized that he was probably remembering something," Mr. Schozsinsky said, and Billy look just as confused as Nate. Mr. Schozsinsky opened one of the drawers on his desk and stared down at whatever was inside of it, while a small tear threatened to fall down from his right eye. "I couldn't help myself; I had to do it at least once more. I was going to stop after that, so I gave him a higher dose, I didn't think it would land him in the hospital..."
Nate went cold; he actually felt every hair on his body standing up as the eerie realization of what Mr. Schozsinsky was saying hit him. "It was you?" Billy asked, wide eyed and starting to back up.
"When you find him, tell him I'm sorry," Mr. Schozsinksy said, then he reached into the drawer, and then Nate heard a click. A few seconds later, Mr. Schozsinksy pulled out a gun from the drawer, swiftly brought it to his head and pulled the trigger as soon as it touched his right temple.
"No!" Nate yelled, and then realized it was too late. The bang resonated in the office, followed by the thud of the gun, hitting the floor when Mr. Schozsinsky's lifeless hand could not hold onto it anymore. He'd looked away, managing to avoid seeing the body, and had now turned to his right, when he'd heard Billy letting out a sob. He was staring at his father's body, in sheer shock. Nate moved to pull him away, but Billy remained standing there. When he did manage to move him, Billy turned around, while still holding onto Nate, causing him to turn around and see Mr. Schozsinsky, a bleeding hole, standing out from his pale skin, as blood poured out of it onto his face and neck, surrounding his eyes, which stared into empty space. He managed to drag Billy away. As soon as they reached the living room, Billy fell to his knees and puked, while Nate slouched back onto the floor, feeling more horrified than he'd ever felt in his life.
* * *
The police station was crowded with people coming and going. It seemed almost as if life didn't slow down like it would in most places after sundown. Nate hadn't come out yet, and the officers kept telling him that it would be just a little more questioning. At first he'd felt annoyed when he'd seen Nate was calling him. Then he was angry when he'd answered to an unknown number, only to realize that it was him again, but as soon as he heard the scared tone of Nate's voice, he'd forgotten about having even been mad at him. When he got to the station he was still confused, but all he knew was that Nate needed him. Then the cops had started questioning him about Michael and his family, he didn't know shit about them, he barely even knew Billy. Then after demanding repeatedly for an explanation, they had told him what had happened.
One of the cops even told him that Michael's mother had been arrested. He wasn't even sure why, he would've thought she would actually need medical assistance, not to be held in custody. As he looked about, anxiously hoping for Nate to come out, he spotted him walking out of the room that was two doors up the hall from where Luke had been told to sit and wait. He got up and met him halfway. "Nate, I..." he started saying.
"Thanks for coming," Nate said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Are we ready to go?" Luke asked him.
"No, we have to wait for Billy, he can't stay at his house now," Nate answered.
"Well he can stay with us," Luke answered.
"I thought I was supposed to sleep at my own room tonight," Nate flatly replied.
"Nate, please... Forget about all that shit, please," he said, reaching out with his right hand and squeezing Nate's left shoulder.
"Okay," Nate replied, looking up, and his glossy red eyes made Luke realize that he probably had gone through more than he had even imagined.
"What happened to Billy's mom?" Luke asked him.
"They are going to keep her in custody for withholding information. Apparently, when they told her that they were going to examine the office where her husband... killed himself, she freaked out and said she didn't want any police cars parked out of her house during the night. It turns out, she found Michael sleeping in his room a few nights ago," he stopped when he saw Luke's shocked face, "She had seen some things had been moved in the room before, but thought it had just been Billy, then she realized that Michael had been sleeping there since weeks ago."
"She probably felt safer knowing that he was close," Luke said, surprising Nate, he would've thought that Luke would've actually rejected her behavior. He noticed Luke was staring past him, "Billy's out, want to go get him?"
"Yeah," he answered as he turned around and spotted Billy coming out of the room where they had kept the two of them for the last couple of hours. He looked distant, withdrawn. When they reached him, he merely looked up and then started walking, when he reached the end of the hall, he looked back at them.
"Can I stay with you?" he asked.
"Of course," they answered in unison.
* * *
Even hours after having gone to bed, he still could not fall asleep. He could feel Luke's movements in the bed, he was still awake, though he did not move or turn around. Billy had quickly fallen asleep after getting into Nate's bed; he was surprised that the police had actually let them go so quickly, but given the fact that Billy's dad had taken his own life right in front of his son, it looked as if the cops were taking it easy on him. They had told them both that they were not to leave the city, at least not for the next couple of days, until the police determined the causes of Mr. Schozsinsky's suicide. Yet, it was easy for Nate to know that the officers that had interrogated them were already sure that Michael and Billy's dad had been crazy, and had taken his own life after admitting the fact that he had drugged and sexually abused his eldest son. Not once did they even imply that Nate or Billy had anything to do with Mr. Schozsinsky's suicide; although, they had showed interest in the fact that this explained a lot about Michael's behavior.
Martin had stopped by and checked on them as soon as they'd arrived, and Nate had never seen him act in such an awkward way around someone as he was acting around Billy in the brief time that he'd been there. Now that he came to think about it, he probably was having mixed emotions about it, because his own brother had died of an overdose, which he could consider as an accidental suicide. The twins had called and offered to come, but Nate didn't know whether it was a good idea or not. He wanted to help Billy, but he wasn't sure of how he could do that. Then, as he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, he remembered about Dr. Reyes, he would be able to help, or Luke's mom even. That was when he remembered, he hadn't confessed about his therapy. He knew Luke wasn't sleeping, but he didn't want to have to do this... He knew he had to do it, but he was too proud to do it. Even though he could admit that he was too proud, and even though he hated acknowledging it, he still had a hard time getting over it.
"Want to talk?" he asked.
"Only if you want to," Luke answered.
"I've been going to therapy," he said.
"Wha... Since when?" Luke asked, obviously not expecting to hear that.
"Since about three weeks ago," Nate answered.
"Where?" Luke asked.
"Here, your mom said she'd heard good things about a therapist that works for the school," Nate answered, and when Luke remained silent, he realized that he had just made a huge mistake. Now he had also admitted that Luke's mom knew about this therapy, but he had kept it a secret from him.
"So, my parents knew?" Luke asked him, and Nate could certainly sense the anger Luke was holding back.
Feeling suddenly meek, he scooted closer and put his left arm around Luke's body. "You know I went through a lot of shit while growing up, I was afraid that it was going to take a toll on me, you know... I was afraid, because sometimes I would have nightmares and I never wanted to tell you what they were about, and it scared me to think that it might make you feel weird about me," Nate answered. "So I asked your mom, because I didn't want her as my therapist. I thought she was too close to me like for us to try that."
"I would never think less of you because of any of the things that you've gone through, my god, I would love to help in anything I can," Luke replied.
"I know, but it's not about you, it's me that needs the help, and it's just so that there are many things that I don't really want to talk about with you until I can figure them out," Nate said.
Luke expected as much and knew better than to object. He knew how prideful Nate could be, like an old-fashioned straight boy. That thought made him smile, because he realized that he didn't give a shit about that, Nate was his thick headed man, and that was all that mattered to him. "So how is this therapy going?" He asked, deciding to show support.
"Good, Dr. Reyes is so good, although I must admit that I have been avoiding telling him about many of the things that I probably should talk to him about. Although, we did talk about some pretty nasty stuff today, but it felt good, it was as if I had gotten rid of so many bad feelings that I was keeping inside," Nate answered.
"As long as you feel good with the progress that you're making, then I say keep going, but please, don't hide things like this from me. Remember, we promised to tell each other the truth and support each other," Luke reminded him.
"I know, but it's just that... I guess it's one of those pride things I have problems with. But you know what, I am glad that I am going, because if I look at what happened to Michael..." Nate was saying, and then Luke felt the bed begin to shake gently with Nate's crying.
"Shhh..." Luke started trying to calm him down as he turned around and wrapped his arms around him. "Come on baby, let's not wake Billy," he said, and then he started running his right hand over Nate's hair.
"I can't imagine how Michael must have felt... Who knows how many times that sick old man did that to him..." Nate said in between sobs. "And then, he pulled the gun out and... Dear god... I never wanted to see anything like that in my life... And poor Billy... I had to drag him out..."
"It's okay baby, I'm here," Luke said as he repeatedly kissed Nate, dreading the sorrowful look of his brown eyes. "You should talk to Dr. Reyes about all this too, if you know you can open up to him and that he can help, then you should see what he has to say."
"I'm worried about Billy," Nate said, calming down.
"I know, I am too," Luke said.
"And I'm scared for Michael... He doesn't deserve any of this; do you think it's too late to get him help?" He asked.
Luke instinctively looked at the other bed and confirmed that Billy was sound asleep, his bangs spread to a side, showing a sad look that he never thought a sleeping person could have. "I think that it might be hard, he obviously needed the therapy earlier on, now it could be really difficult to get good results. It could take a lot of time, and he could resist a lot of the help, because now he probably is at a point where he feels like he is the only one that he can trust."
"Luke," Nate said.
"Yeah?" Luke asked.
"I love you so much, and you don't know how much it scares me, because I seriously don't want you to leave me. That is why I feel like I have to be the best I can for you," Nate answered.
"You don't have to do anything to prove how good you are, you are so brave, beautiful and caring that I can't help but love you. What you did today for Billy is more than I think I could have ever done, and it might have been a good thing, because who knows what could have happened if you weren't there with him?" Luke asked him.
"I seriously am worried about him, he really is a good kid, behind the smart mouth and tough look," Nate answered.
"You say the word and the gang will adopt him," Luke said.
"You think so?" Nate asked him.
"You're the one that connects all of us, remember? If you think he's good then that means that we just haven't looked hard enough, or maybe he's not let us see it completely, but it will be just a matter of time," Luke answered.
"I love you," Nate said before kissing him gently on the lips.
"I love you too," Luke said before returning the kiss. Before an hour passed, they had both finally managed to fall asleep.