The Year of the Great Seventh (10 page)

“The catch of the story is that Pete happened to be Mom’s boss’s son. My parents had to face many angry parents to excuse my behavior, but this time was different. I knew, after what I did to Pete, they gave up on me. Obviously, Mom didn’t want to face her boss and colleagues after what happened. A few weeks later, she was offered a job in one of the studios in L.A. and decided to take it.”

Nate continued with resentment in his voice. “My parents seemed really excited about moving to L.A. because they thought it would give them a chance to rebuild their lives. Well, they were thinking about a new start for them. This time around they weren’t going to let me destroy their lives. I heard Mom talking to Dad one night. She told him that I should go to a public school because in the event that I got into trouble again, it would be unlikely they would know the victim’s parents. At first, Dad was strongly against the idea, but I knew Mom had persuaded Dad when I was told I was going to attend West Hollywood High.”

Nate paused for a moment and inhaled deeply. “To make matters worse, when we got to L.A. they took me to specialists and a psychiatrist who made me take some strong drugs. They calmed me down, of course, but that didn’t surprise me. They induced me into a state of complete numbness. It was as if I was living my life asleep. But they said the drugs wouldn’t slow the progression.

“For the last two and a half years, after I stopped taking the drugs, I’ve barely seen them. They spend most of the time working, as if they’re scared of being alone with me. It doesn’t matter if I don’t come home for days at a time. I don’t question their parenting, and they don’t question where I am. They always make sure I have more money than I need.”

Nate told the story in a cold, neutral voice, as if none of this really mattered to him. He was probably too tough to cry, but he couldn’t hide the sadness in his eyes. They shone, holding the tears he couldn’t cry.

The cruelty of Nate’s parents toward him was despicable. How could anyone alienate their only child because he was troubled? I realized how lucky I was to have such caring parents. I knew regardless of what kind of trouble I got myself into, Mom and Dad would always stand by me.

“You have to take those drugs. You’re endangering your health by refusing,” I said, trying to make Nate come to his senses.

Nate shook his head from side to side, his lips curling into an unpleasant smile. “Please, don’t.”

I’d been taught to never give up and to never lose hope, and even more so in an occasion like this, involving someone’s life. Nate was a bright student and quite normal most of the time; there had to be something or someone who could help him. I wasn’t going to let him waste his life away just like that. “Nate, but you can’t—”

“Please, don’t,” Nate quickly interrupted. “Your parents might be wondering where you are. It’s quite late,” he said, checking his watch.

It was already ten thirty. I’d completely forgotten about the time. If I didn’t want Mom to ground me, I had to make it home by eleven.

“You’re right. I have to go,” I said, springing to my feet. “But wait. What about you? Will you be okay?”

A hint of a smile appeared on Nate’s face. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry. I’ll walk you to your car.”

We headed downstairs, and when we passed through the living room, I realized why this place had such a cold feel. There was no sign of life anywhere: no family pictures, no coats on the hangers, no plates left from the previous night. It was somehow a reflection of Nate’s soul.

“Hey, Sophie,” he said as we walked outside the house.

“Yes?” I said, admiring the row of fancy cars parked next to my car.

Nate grabbed my hand to make me turn to face him as though he was going to tell me the most important thing I would ever know. I stiffened at once, as he’d caught me unprepared. The moonlight filtered through the leaves above us.

He stood right in front of me at an uncomfortably close distance. “I know this may sound strange, but there’s only one way you can help me. My problem will aggravate with time, and I couldn’t forgive myself if I ended up hurting you. It’s best if we don’t…”

I rested my finger on his lips to stop him from finishing the sentence. Then I looked him straight in the eye. I wanted to stare at his beautiful face one last time, mentally engraving it in the back of my eyelids. It was as if there was a magnetic force attracting us.

He leaned closer to me, and I let my subconscious make the irrational decision. I could feel the warmth of his breath. I couldn’t control my body anymore. It was as if all the energy we held from each other for so long had exploded out of control. Finally our foreheads touched, allowing the energy to flow. We closed our eyes, hoping time would get stuck in this exact moment. Life was ironic. We were surrounded by the things that most people cherished, but knew we couldn’t have what we both wanted the most.

“I will. I’ll do it,” I whispered.

Nate wrapped his arms around me. “Thanks.”

A wave of sadness invaded my body, as I knew the moment I left this place, I would leave a part of me behind. The part that belonged to Nate. One of those parts that you end up searching for the rest of your life.

CHAPTER VI

I WOKE UP EARLY the next morning. The bright sun shone through my bedroom windows. Hiding under my duvet, I was reluctant to face the world again. Thankfully, it was Saturday and there was nothing forcing me out of bed.

I couldn’t find the energy or any reason to get out of bed ever again. Now I realized that Nate subconsciously drove my day to day. It was true he was arrogant and I knew he was a labyrinth of secrets. Unfortunately, I’d never expected his secrets to be along the lines of a genetic mental illness. Nate’s life was complex enough; I didn’t need to make it any more complicated.

It was difficult to accept that beautiful Nate was going to lose his mind. It was truly a sad end. The king had confessed that he could no longer rule his kingdom. I needed someone to dream about, and until now, that had been Nate. As of yesterday, I learned Nate was as scared of the future as the rest of us—and even more so.

I’d never lost a loved one. My grandparents died before I was born. But more or less, I was sure this was the way people felt. The color of my life had been brushed away. I didn’t enjoy living in L.A., but I managed to find little things to give me a reason to keep going. Now, I couldn’t seem to remember any of them, or at least they didn’t seem important enough to get out of bed for. To make matters worse, I was on my own. Megan was in Montreal and Emma was busy shooting a commercial.

My body felt heavier than ever before. Emptiness filled each part of me. I couldn’t just give up. I couldn’t just accept that Nate’s life had an expiration date.

My head was pounding. I hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep for a few days. There were too many things on my mind at the moment. I was reluctant to believe there was no doctor or medication that could help Nate. However, I suspected he hadn’t given up right away. I was confident that his parents had tried everything they could.

After giving it some thought, I could understand his decision for not taking his meds. Yes, they could keep his episodes under control, but if he couldn’t function and couldn’t be himself, what was the point? There had to be some other way of helping him—a more reasonable way.

I was comfortable under my Nordic duvet. It was incredible the kind of protection from the outside world that a bunch of goose feathers could provide. No one could hurt me down here. It was my own little world that no one could spoil. My imagination was my reality in the darkness of my sheets. But after spending the entire morning trying to invent a reason to get out of bed, the simple smell of toast accomplished the unthinkable.

After grabbing some lunch, I decided that a good start to get myself back on track was to put some order in my life, and that began with sorting my books and storing old ones away in boxes. I got some folders and boxes from the closet and sat down to classify the papers from last year. If I wanted something to keep my mind occupied, this was it. This would keep me busy for the next two days. I hadn’t sorted out my old books in over a year.

I picked up the clothes from my bedroom floor and placed them on top of the pile that already existed inside my closet. Then I gathered all the books and papers that were on the sofa and placed them in boxes in the compartment over the closet. I rearranged the duvet and the sheets and also organized the things on my night table.

The bedroom was starting to look tidy, but it was really a fake. Under my bed there were around twenty pairs of shoes that were going to take a while to organize. To make matters worse, the papers from last year had gotten mixed up with this year’s. Spreading all the papers on top of my bed, I sat on one side and spent the next couple of hours sorting them.

Someone knocked on the bedroom door.

“Come in!” I shouted.

Dad popped his head through the half-open door. “Sophie, we’re going to Burbank to spend the evening at Aunt Jane’s. Do you want to come?”

“No thanks. I have to go to the Getty to get my recommendation letter,” I explained. “The program coordinator called me last week to let me know it was ready.”

Jane was Mom’s younger sister. She was a successful businesswoman working for a production company. Even though she was in her late thirties, she was single. It wasn’t because she didn’t have any boyfriends; it was more a personal choice. She never really had time for any of them. Her entire life was her job, which she cherished. I guess different people found happiness in different ways. When I was a kid, she used to babysit me and I loved it. She was absolutely reckless. She would let me do anything I wanted: stay up at night, eat candy for dinner, or go to the grocery store in my pajamas. She was the best aunt in the world.

She was also really good to Mom. She hired her as a special consultant to supervise the casting process of the movies her company produced. Most of Mom’s income came from these freelance jobs. The downside was that Aunt Jane also had high expectations for me in an acting career. She always told me that I had the talent and the right connections to make it in Hollywood, and I was ignoring the opportunities she could offer me. She was just as pushy as Mom, calling me every time they were casting a role for a movie.

Unfortunately, that issue forced us apart. It didn’t really worry me that we lost our connection. I knew sooner or later she would understand it was my life and I was entitled to my own preferences.

“Mom’s car keys are on the coffee table. See you tonight.” Dad said, closing the door behind him.

I didn’t want to get Dad involved in my blues, but I was sure he could bring some hope to Nate’s issue. Or at least, he could give me the scientific facts about his problem.

“Dad?” I called. Dad’s steps resonated in the corridor.

“Yes?” he said, popping his head back through the door gap.

“What do you know about mental health problems?” I said while sorting out some old school papers on the bed.

“Homework?” he said with intrigue.

“Not really. Curiosity.”

Dad lifted his eyebrows in surprise. He was silent, probably trying to compute why I asked this.

I explained without looking him in the eye. “Let’s say that in a hypothetical family, the grandfather had a terminal mental disease and the grandchild was developing the same symptoms from an early age. Would there be anything that could reverse the course of the illness?”

Dad was staring at me. A light crease appeared in his forehead. I think he knew exactly whom I was referring to. He came and sat on the bed next to me, moving some of the papers aside.

“The brain is the most complex organ of the body. Scientists have spent hundreds of years trying to understand how it works. They have a general understanding and are able to treat some mental illnesses with some drugs. Unfortunately, they don’t know ‘yet’ how to cure many diseases, and they know even less about the terminal ones.” He surveyed my reaction.

I was hesitating about asking Dad because I knew he would tell me what I didn’t want to hear. Nate’s battle was a lost cause from day one.

“These drugs have a numbing effect on patients, right? They just keep them half asleep so they won’t get themselves into trouble,” I said with disappointment.

“The causes of mental disorders are complex and vary from patient to patient,” Dad explained. “The drugs given can’t cure the illness. Many of the drugs do work something like a tranquilizer to keep the patients relaxed, so they won’t have any episodes.”

“So you’re just saying there’s nothing that can cure a genetic mental illness at the moment?” I repeated, hoping that he would prove my understanding wrong.

“I’m afraid not.” Dad moved his head from side to side resignedly. “Also, mentally ill people can be dangerous. Most of the time they are completely normal people like you and me, but they can go into a state of psychosis at short notice.”

I shuffled through the papers on the bed, trying to avoid thinking about Dad’s words. My hands were sweating thinking of Nate’s struggle at the parking lot.