But once again, that wasn’t the case.
It wasn’t until I picked my shorts up from the floor that I saw the handwritten note he’d left me.
“Sorry?” I said to no one but myself. “For what?” I literally scratched my head. He couldn’t possibly be sorry for what happened last night. That was something I was sure neither of us would ever regret.
After punching out a quick text to him, I finished getting dressed and made my way upstairs.
The scene waiting for me at the kitchen table was the last thing I expected. Sarah was sittingin a chair, her head hanging in her hands. Surely there were tears streaking down her cheeks. My first thought was that Patrick did something to her. I’d beat the shit out of that fucker if that were the case, but considering how calmly my father sat there, I figured that couldn’t possibly be in the realm of possibility.
“What happened?” I walked toward the table and then sat down next to Dad.
He clapped a hand to my shoulder, saying, “I’m sorry, son.”
“For what?” My heart sunk in my chest as the worst thoughts possible took root in my head.
He killed himself. He was always so depressed. Oh God, he came here to say goodbye. The I’m sorry was for killing himself.
Breathing became difficult and panic raced through my veins. “Why?” I choked out. “What happened? Tell me what happened?”I demanded, looking back and forth between Mom and Sarah.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Mom responded. “Everything is going to be okay.”
Her words cemented my worst fears, but I refused to believe them until she spoke the actual words. “Tell me what happened.” I spoke each word as carefully and clearly as I could, as if she’d had trouble hearing me the first time. Mom looked to Sarah and they exchangedsome kind of knowing glance before Sarah turned to face me.
“Ryan came out,” she revealed. Her face was in fact tearstained, but at least it wasn’t for the reason I initially thought. “He only told Patrick. He told Patrick he’s gay. I swear I didn’t tell him. I kept it a secret. I didn’t tell him. I’m so sorry.”
All the breath left my lungs on a whoosh as if it needed to be somewhere else otherthan my body. That explained the bruises, the cuts, the gash. His tears and nervous anxiety. His need to be with me, to solidify what he knew about himself. The entire night replayed in my mind and while I was still beyond panicked to know why everyone was so upset, I couldn’t help but be more than a little proud that he’d come out to someone, even if it was Patrick.
I moved next to Sarah, pullingher into as much of a hug as our chairs would let me. “I know you didn’t. I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t trust you.”
I looked to Mom and then Dad, searching for their approval that we were together. They nodded at me before turning their attention back to Sarah as she continued to speak. “Patrick beat him up. Real bad,” she added as if I didn’t already know. “I dumped him.”
That pieceof information both did and didn’t shock me. Sarah had morals and principles rivaling those of a monk, but I knew how madly she loved Patrick. I couldn’t help but feel proud of her. “I’m sorry.” But I knew my apology wouldn’t take away the pain in her heart.
“There’s more,” Mom cut in, sliding her chair over to me. “After the fight, he never came home and well, he left.”
“Left?” I spat, utterlyconfused. “What do you mean, left?”
“He ran away,” Sarah clarified.
“Where?” As if such a simple question would fix all my paranoia.
“They don’t know,” she explained. “Patrick called me this morning, and I almost didn’t pick it up considering the fight we had last night. But he wanted to see if Ryan was here.”
He was here. With me. And now he was gone. It wasn’t real.
“Did they call him?”It was oversimplified, sure, but it was a starting point right.
“He left his cell phone along with a note. He would call them when he got wherever he was going. Not to worry. He would start his life for himself, without having to worry about what they all thought of him.”
It couldn’t possibly be that simple. There was no way on earth he just up and vanished. It was something I just couldn’tprocess.
So instead of believing Sarah’s story, I kept texting and calling Ryan. Eventually I got a response, and my heart leapt into my throat as my phone vibrated in my palm.
He left because of you, fag. Stop sending him messages. He’s gone.
He’s gone.
He couldn’t be.
He was just here.
I could still smell him on my sheets, feel him moving inside me.
But when a week passed and I didn’thear a word from him, I began to believe he was never coming back. When he wasn’t at graduation, I felt an emptiness I couldn’t fully explain.
When the entire summer passed and I didn’t hear a single word from him, my heart broke in a way I never thought possible.
When the fall rolled around and my first semester of college began, an anger so passionately hot threatened to consume me in itsflames.
And when a year went by without an ounce of information, I resolved myself to living the rest of my life without the first man I’d ever loved.
