Tracks (Rock Bottom) (32 page)

“I’m just in pain,” he whispers. His body is still trembling.
Another tear runs down his face.

“I know,” I whisper back. “I wish I could
take the pain away from you.”

He looks up at
me; his blue eyes sparkle, but are red from crying. “No, it’s my job to take your pain away. And I swear I’ll do that for the rest of my life. You’ll never see me like this again. The only thing controlling me will be you.”

I smile, touched and amused.
“As if I could ever control you.”

He attempts a smile back at
me. “Go to class,” he orders.

I sit there, still hesitant. He narrow
s his eyes at me. “Go.”

I stand up and pull the blanket up his bare back so that it’s touching underneath his neck.
I turn and walk out the bedroom door, shutting it lightly. I give the nurse detailed instructions about calling me if something happens just in time for Rich to knock at my front door. I grab my bag, throw my shoes on, and open the door to see him standing at the top of my steps.

We smile warmly to each other and I grab onto his arm. There are a few reporters outside, but not many, as they haven’t
found out that Jeremy is here.

“Dylan,
do you know the whereabouts of Jeremy Mason?” a woman says, sticking a microphone in my face. I squeeze Rich’s arm, and he gives me a reassuring smile in return. “Why has he had to postpone the tour? Do you know what hospital he’s in?”

Rich opens the door to the black car for me and I slide into it, shutting the door in the reporter’s face. I’m relieved to hear that they don’t seem to know what’s going on, and I thank God that Jeremy has a good team to handle this situation.

When Rich enters the car, we drive away to campus in comfortable silence.

Somehow, I’m the first one to arrive in my Criminal Law class. The silence in the room is almost eerie. I walk up a few steps and sit in my unofficially assigned seat. As I’m taking my laptop from my bag, I notice Theresa entering the door. She stops when she sees me and shoots me a huge smile, running up the stairs and wrapping me in a big embrace. I try hard to hold it together.

“Hi,” she says, compassionately. “
How are you? How is he?”

“Both good and ba
d, on both questions.” I sigh.

“Listen, I don’t mind coming home and helping you. Sean said I can stay as long as I need, but if you
want me to come home, I will.”

Theresa, so helpful.
So loyal.

“No, no. I’m ok
ay for now. It gets- messy. Overwhelming,” I try to explain without scaring her. More people are entering the class now, so she just gives me a nod, and we take our seats.

With every person that enters, my heart skips a bit faster, terrified that Scott is going to enter. When the class is nearly full and the professor walks in, I think that Scott
maybe isn’t coming, which makes me both relieved and concerned.

Class begins with still no sign of him. Just as the professor gets into his introduction to the subject we’re learning, Scott en
ters quickly through the door.

He looks amazing, as usual.

“Mr. Hillman, nice of you to join us,” the tiny professor scolds.

Scott nods and finds his seat next to me. I look at him, but he doesn’t turn to me. He doesn’t even make eye contact with me.
Throughout the class that seems to drag on longer than normal, I continue to look over at him from time to time. He never returns my gaze.

When the professor excuses us from class, telling us to have a good day, I turn one final time to Scott. I plan to address him and ask him what his problem is, but instead I’m met with his back, walking quickly out of our isle and down the stairs. He’s through the door before I can think of anything to say.

I turn to Theresa and pout. She shrugs her shoulders, grabbing my hand and squeezing tightly. We pack up our things and leave the now empty classroom to attend our next class.

After a long day at school, I am anxious to get home to check up on Jeremy. The nurse hadn’t called me all day, which I expect is a good sign. I’m hoping, I think as I run up my front steps, that he ha
s improved since this morning.

When I enter my front door, turning to shut it tightly and lock it, I kick off my shoes and hurry down the hall. I stop in my living room
, expecting to find the nurse there. I furrow my brows when I don’t see her.

I enter the bedroom quietly, thinking Jeremy might be asleep. My chest tightens when I see an empty bed. Did they go to the hospital, and not have time to call me? My breathing increases. I knew I shouldn’t have gone to school. What if something had
happened and I wasn’t here for him?

Shit, shit, shit!

I hear a small noise coming from the bathroom across the hall. I turn and immediately enter into the hallway, opening the bathroom door slowly. I see the nurse on her knees in front of a shirtless Jeremy, covered only by a towel, with blood covering his forehead.

He looks up at me and smiles like he’s seen the sun for the first time.
“Dylan,” he breathes. He’s still yellow and swollen.

“What happened?” I ask, panicked.
No time to swoon now.

“Jeremy had a seizure when he was in the shower,” the nurse explains, dabbing his head with a cl
oth. “He took a little spill.”

“I’m alright, Dylan,” Jeremy reassures me in a small v
oice.

“Does he need to go to the hospital? Does he need stitches?” I ask the nurse. I know Jeremy would tell me he was fine even if his leg was falling off, so I don’t t
rust him to answer truthfully.

“
No, no. Head wounds bleed a lot. It looks worse than it is.”

I give him a suspicious look, narrowing my eyes. “D
id you coach her to say that?”

“Dylan, such faith you have in me,” he says, grinning.

The nurse helps him up from the floor, and I walk over to grab his other arm. He holds the towel on himself as we walk him into the bedroom and lay him on the bed. I help him under the covers and the nurse finishes up cleaning the wound on his head, which really isn’t bad, and leaves us alone.

I sit on the bed beside him and place my hand on his leg. “How was school?” he asks me, run
ning his hand through my hair.

I shook my head. “Okay. Except Scott isn’t talking to me. And I probably shouldn’t have gone. I thi
nk I should be here with you.”

“Okay, first of all, you need to go to school,” Jeremy begins. “I’m not going to have you around here all day failing out of school. That’s not necessary. Secondly, let me tell you how extremely devastated I am that Scott isn’t talking to you.” He smiles, trying to make me laugh. I
just look at him, still hurt.

He sighs. “Dylan, he’ll come around. He’s just jealous and needs to get over the fact that we’re together. He got his hopes up when you came home, and it didn’t work
out the way he wanted it to. He’s not used to handling disappointment. Once he learns he can only be your friend, you guys will be ok.”

I think maybe he’s right, and I let that fact comfort me. One day, maybe my life will go back to semi-normal.

Jeremy crosses his arms over his stomach, lying over in bed. I tell him to rest, rubbing his shoulders until he’s asleep.

While in the living room a few hours later, trying to distract myself with the television, I hear a loud crashing in the bedroom. I jump and turn to look at the nurse who is sitting and reading at the kitchen table. We make eye contact for a moment and stand up, preparing to run to the bedroom.

Suddenly, Jeremy throws my bedroom door open and enters into the hallway.
He’s only wearing a pair of jeans, and his face is magnificent and angry. His eyes are wild, furious. He glares at us.

“I have to g
o. I have to get out of here.”

I’m
frozen. “Why?” I stammer out.

“Don’t ask me why, Dylan. You don’t want to fuc
king know the answer to that.”

I try to stay calm. He starts wringing his hands, bouncing a little as if his legs won’t stay still. “I do want to know the an
swer, Jeremy,” I say, quietly.

He turns, slamming his fist through the wall in my hallway. The nurse and I jump, and she takes her cell phone out of her pocket, as if she’s going to call for someone. I hold my hand up to her, telling
her to wait.

“You don’t want to fucking know the answer! You’re hurting me, you bitch! You’re making me suffer. Fuck you, Dylan!
You fucking bitch!” he turns and again puts his fist through the wall, in a different spot.

His words sting, but I know I need to stay calm.
He begins pacing up and down the floor of the hallway, screaming obscenities. “I’m not a God damned caged animal! If I want to go, I’m going to go! I have all of the power. You can’t control me! No one controls me anymore. NO ONE!” He punches a whole in the other wall on the other side of the hallway. I jump again. The nurse gives me a wary look, obviously thinking it’s time to call someone. I shake my head at her.

“No?!” he asks, appalled.

“Not ‘no’ to you,” I clarify, in a calm voice. “You can go, Jeremy, if you really want to.”

“Oh, I fucking know that, and I’m going,” he says. We stan
d still for a moment, staring at each other. He’s warring with his decision as he stares at me. I see his breathing start to calm, and the anger almost leave his face. “Dylan,” he says. “I
have
to go,” he pleads.

A tear spills over my cheek. This is it, then. He’s leaving. He’s making his choice. I shou
ld have known I wasn’t enough.

His eyes become angry again, and it makes me realize I said my last sente
nce out loud.

“God damn it!” he screams, marching back into my room, slamming the door shut. I hear him scream more obscenities and the sound of things smashing.
The nurse immediately makes a phone call.

My front door opens suddenly and I look over in time to see a man running towards me. I scream before I notice
its Scott. He grabs the tops of my arms when he reaches me. “Dylan, are you alright?!” he asks me frantically.

“I’m okay,” I
say unconvincingly.

“Should I go in there?” he asks, as Jeremy continues to scream and
we hear the smashing of glass.

I shake my head into his chest, comforted by his big arms around me. The nurse is speaking quickly on the phone but I can’t hear anything. “No, ju
st stay with me,” I beg Scott.

He puts his hand on the back of my head, smoothing my hair. I start to cry harder, hurt from Jeremy’s unkind words and scared because of his actions.

I cry into Scott’s chest for a few minutes, until the sounds in the bedroom finally die down. I turn my head to the nurse, still holding Scott around the waist. “Beverly, who did you call?”

“The doctor,”
she says. “To see if I could give him extra medication. Just in case he’d actually take it.”

I s
igh in relief. I was afraid she called the police.

I look up at Scott, who is staring down at me, his handsome face concerned. Our faces are inches apart, but it doesn’t occur to me to be uncomfortable. In this moment, it just feels good to have someone to hold me. “What are you doing here, anyway?” I ask, s
miling at him through my tears.

He looks confused. “It’s Monday.
A study night.”

I laugh a little. He chuckles. “I’m sorry about the way I acted,” he says, in a serious tone. He smooths my hair with his hand again. “I’m going to be here for you. To help you. Because, I…” he pauses and I hold my breath.

Oh please, no. Not now. I can’t handle it.

I hear footsteps in the hallway, and automatically we turn to see Jeremy standing
there, watching us. His hands are dripping blood onto the hallway floor. I watch the emotions flash across his face: anger, shock, sadness, hurt, and then pain. Extreme pain.

I look up towards Scott, looking at Jeremy in disgust, and then back at Jeremy. I immediately release Scott’s waist and step away from his embrace.
“Jeremy,” I say, my voice breaking.

Jeremy turns slowly, walking back into the bedroom. It’s silent for a moment before we hear the earth shattering sound of a painful scream, and then sobbing.

I put my hand over my mouth, shocked at his reaction. I begin to sob harder, shaking and unsure of what to do. I’m scared to go in, but I’m scared not to.

Jeremy’s loud, painful sobs continue.
The nurse sighs, pulling out a chair and sitting down, her shoulders heavy with stress. Scott doesn’t move at my side. Another scream of emotional pain comes from the bedroom.

I can’t stand being away from him at that point, and I walk forward slowly towards the bedroom. “Dylan,” Scott says, as if he’s begging me not to go.
I ignore him, moving forward.