Page 61 of Pippin & Nacho

He took a step forward while I took a step back, not wanting that knife any deeper. If it did, I would bleed to death.

“Yes, I have you to talk to, but who do I talk to when it’s about you? When I need to clear my head? You’ve kept this a secret, leaving me alone to help you. He swore he wouldn’t tell anyone. Please, we only talked so I could get some advice.”

“But why?! I thought we were good! I don’t understand. And if you told him my secret, the one person I trust the most, then why wouldn’t he tell someone else?”

Nate’s eyes watered and his lip trembled. “God, you’re right… I’m so sorry. I was feeling really alone, scared, and tired. Usually, I’m fine, but I had a bad moment. Please forgive me.”

Taking another step back, I wiped the hot tears from my face and shook my head. “I… I don’t know.”

“Sam?”

I turned around, rushed to my bedroom, and locked the door. Nate pounded on it, wanting me to open it. I wanted to open it, but I didn’t want to see him. My trust was gone. If I couldn’t trust Nate, who could I trust?

You’re an idiot. He just wants to help you, and you’re too chickenshit. It’s your fault he’s hurting. You’re the one he can’t trust.

I growled at the insistent, bullying words and slammed my dresser drawer shut.

I needed to breathe and to get out of there. Skating. I needed to skate or something to get away from him for a while.

When I opened the door, Nate was still standing there, crying. I ached, blaming myself, blaming him. I rushed to the front door, grabbing my jacket and board.

“Don’t leave me, Sam. I need you. Please…”

The desperation and pain in his voice made me stop in my tracks, but I had to breathe. To get away. It was stronger than my Polaris.

“I… need to think.”

The late morning turned cloudy, with a damp chill in the air. Rain was coming. I loved yet hated the rain. I loved it when it washed away the filth and stench, but it was cold. Nate and I always got soaking wet when we lived on the streets. I felt the same way about the cold. We’d always been cold from fall to spring before we got an apartment, but Nate always held me close, using our body heat to keep us warm.

There was little traffic on Sunday morning since people attended church, so I could ride through the streets without worrying about getting hit by a car.

I jumped off the curbs, carved around corners, pumping my leg as hard as I could to move faster and faster as if I could run away from my problems. But they always chased me like rabid dogs. I was smart enough to know that. Your problems and past always caught up with you. Nate telling Alpha was proof enough of that.

I couldn’t even be angry at him. Nate never made me angry, but the sense of betrayal weighed heavily. He was the one person I trusted the most in this world, and even he let me down.

Despite being outdoors, with the wind blowing over my face, I still suffocated in shame and disappointment.

So alone.

So empty.

It was my fault for making Nate betray me. He suffered alone because of me—because I was a freak and broken and useless. There was no fixing me. I had way too many fears. The very thought of seeing a doctor had me nearly throwing up and breaking out into a cold sweat.

I needed to do better, but I didn’t know how.

Around twenty minutes later, I reached the skatepark, which was dead, thank fuck. I didn’t want to have to fight people for space to skate.

I took to one of the larger half-pipes, climbed to the top, and stood there on my board for a minute, taking in the view of the city of Baltimore surrounding me. I tried to get into the moment, but I couldn’t find any sense of calm.

Baltimore wasn’t a pretty city, especially under the overcast skies, giving off a depressed vibe that matched my mood, reflecting back at me when I looked at the urban landscape, reminding me of how little joy I had in life.

Nate. Skating. Bartending.

I had no dreams of becoming successful, raising a family, or owning a house, and all those other expectations society had of you. Every day would be the same. I loved and hated routines. Routines took away the joy sometimes, but they also helped me stay on track. Nate deserved more than my broken mind and mediocrity.

A flash of my parents’ faces hit me. That was all I ever got. My memories of them were next to nothing, but sometimes, my mind forced them in. The wiring in my brain tried to find completed threads where there were none. I’d gotten used to it over the years, but I was glad to have so few memories of my parents.

All my problems were their fault. I knew that well enough, but deep inside, I blamed myself for all of it. If I had only been a good enough son, they wouldn’t have sent me away. If I had behaved better in that facility, maybe they wouldn’t have zapped my brain or… touched me. And if I hadn’t fought so hard to be ‘normal,’ Nate wouldn’t have had to betray my trust.

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