“That’s bullshit. You lied.”
“We didn’t lie.”
“You lied by not telling. Though it’s not like anyone with eyes couldn’t see it.”
“See what?” Seth said warily.
H looked him in the eye. “That you loved him.”
Seth felt his face flushing again, but he said nothing.
H started turning his gloves over in his hands. “I mean, I didn’t see it. Because I’m a total idiot. But looking back, I mean. Looking back, it’s obvious.”
“And how was I supposed to tell you a thing like that? If this is the way you were going to react?”
“That’s not –” H said, raising his voice, then looking around and lowering it again. “That’s not why. That’s not why I’ve been acting like I have.”
“Really.”
H sighed. “Okay, a little, but not for any major freaky-outy reasons or anything. It’s not easy for me either, you know? Everyone thinks I’m a fag now, too, don’t they?”
“No, they don’t. You’ve been dating Monica for ages –”
H got a funny look. “Yeah, well.”
“What?”
“I’m not seeing her anymore.”
Seth was surprised. “Well, good. She’s the one who made this whole mess. If it wasn’t for her –”
H interrupted him. “Seth.”
Seth stopped. A faint sick feeling started to swirl in his stomach at the way H had said his name. “What?”
“Didn’t you ever wonder how she got those pictures?”
“What do you mean?”
H fidgeted with his gloves again, turning them, folding them. “You think Gudmund just left his phone lying around for her to find? You think he was that stupid? The Boy Wonder?”
“You’re saying . . .” Seth started, but had to try again. “You’re saying he gave it to her –?”
But H was already shaking his head. “No, Seth, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Well, what then?”
H took a deep breath, reluctant. “You know how she always flirted with Gudmund, right? And he’d flirt back?”
“Yeah, she was totally in love with him.” He saw H wince. “I mean, sorry, man, no offense, she was with you and that was good, but you know . . .”
“Yeah.” H nodded sadly. “I know.”
“That’s why she did it. She even told me. She found out about me and Gudmund and was jealous and –”
“She found out, because she was sleeping with him, too.”
The words hung in the air, almost in physical form, almost as if Seth could see them.
See them, but refuse to read them.
“What?” he finally managed to whisper.
“She told me,” H said. “Finally. Last night.” He frowned. “When she was breaking up with me. Said she found the pictures when she grabbed his phone one night to take a photo of them.” H was now wringing his gloves so tightly they were in danger of tearing. “And they fought, I guess. And I guess he said he was only sleeping with her because she needed him to. That he cared for her as a friend and didn’t know how to handle it so he just gave her what she wanted because he thought, well” – H shrugged –“that was what she wanted.”
Seth felt like everything had frozen around him. Like there was never going to be anything that moved ever again. Like it was only ever going to be cold.
And empty.
I can’t be anyone’s everything, Gudmund had said on that last night. Not even yours, Seth.
That was Gudmund’s biggest fault. That he couldn’t be anyone’s everything.
But that he’d try anyway.
“Why are you telling me this?” Seth said.
“Because it’s true. Because I thought, I don’t know.” H sighed. “I thought it might make it easier for you that he’s gone.”
“It doesn’t. It doesn’t at all.”
H ran his hand through his hair, agitated. “Shit, Seth, I’m telling you because why does everybody have to lose everybody? We were friends. And people messed up, okay? They didn’t say shit they should have said and did shit they shouldn’t have done but Jesus, people need, you know? I know that. They need things and they don’t know why, they just need them. I don’t even really care that she slept with him. I only care that she broke up with me because who do I have now?”
He looked at Seth, and Seth saw how lost he was.
“I had three good friends, three best friends, and now what do I got? I got nobody. I got a bunch of brain-dead idiots who think I’m half-fag and won’t shut up about it.”
Seth sank back slowly in the chair, still reeling. “What are you doing here, H?”
H made a frustrated sound. “I don’t know. I thought you should know, I guess. The truth. Like I said, I thought it might make it easier.”
Seth said nothing to this, found he couldn’t even really look at H, and after a minute, H got up. He waited again to see if Seth would say anything, and when he didn’t, he put the gloves back on.
“I think he really did love you, though,” H said. “At least that’s how it seemed to her.”
And then H left. Seth heard the front door open and close again.
He was alone.
After a while, he didn’t know how long, he got up and climbed the stairs, though he was hardly aware of doing so. Owen was still waiting outside his bedroom door, holding his clarinet.
“Can I play you my song now?” he asked, smiling wide, his hair a really astonishing mess.
Seth went past him into his bedroom.
“I wrote it for you because you’ve been so sad,” Owen said and raised the clarinet to start playing. Seth shut the door on him. That didn’t stop him. A surprisingly melodic set of notes repeated themselves several times, way too fast, but Seth barely heard them, just sat on the edge of his bed.
He felt empty.
But also strangely calm. He heard his mother take Owen to therapy but sat so quietly on his bed, he didn’t even think she knew he was still home.
He was hardly aware of making a decision to start cleaning his room.
Making a decision to then put on his coat.
Making a decision to go to the ocean.
74
Tomasz looks ashen. “Oh, Mr. Seth,” he says. “You learned you could trust no one. Is very bleak lesson.”
“No,” Seth says, “that’s not quite –”