dissonance. (a Böhme novel) (34 page)

I scoffed at him and let a grin form. “Get over myself? Do something?” I asked. “You don’t think I’ve tried to do something?”

“Yes, get over yourself. Don’t you realize that this depression or whatever the fuck it is, is your own doing?” Gabe asked as he waved his hand around in the air as if my anger and sadness were floating around the room. “You can go right after her and figure this out.”

“Yeah, not going to happen,” I said as I poured more whisky. “She is set in her ways and I failed her. There’s no way she’s going to listen to me. She’s stubborn.”

“You’re an idiot,” Wynn said and it felt like a slap to the face. I expected that from Gabe, but not from Wynn.

I must’ve had the expression that he had slapped me, because a smile formed on Wynn’s face as he watched me.

“You are Blake. Who cares if she is set in her ways? That’s her issue. You were happy with her, I saw that. So quit being an asshole and just call her. Or better yet, go see her,” Wynn said.

I toyed with my glass, slowly rotating it in a circle. I wanted nothing more than to do as Wynn suggested. I wanted to show up at Brecken’s apartment, all Richard Gere in
Pretty Woman
style and sweep her off her feet. That’s what I did in the past if I pissed a girl off. It always worked—dashing in and admitting when I was an idiot. But with Brecken, it was different. I didn’t think I was an idiot in what I did. Every part of me wanted to tell her that night in order to keep our relationship held together, but I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t take that from her or Mason.

“I’d love to be the hero in this story and rush in and make it all better, but I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I said. “She wouldn’t believe it. I’m not sure why she’s that way, but she is. All I need from you guys is to just drink with me tonight. I’ll be fine. I thank you for your advice and input.”

“Just think about it,” Karl said. “I’ve known Brecken my whole life. She’s a hard ass— we all know that. But she cares about you man. That’s why she’s so pissed. She’s trying to figure out in her head how to rationalize her frustrations with love and failure. It’s a hard place to be—learning that what you always believed to be true can also be false.”

“Ahh!” I yelled. “You guys and your fucking Yoda shit.”

“He’s right,” Wynn said. “Maybe you need to show her she’s wrong?”

“Okay if I agree to
maybe
think about this more, will you guys please just shut the fuck up?” I asked.

Each of them nodded in turn.

_______________

It’s now been two months since I watched her walk away and I still haven’t followed her.

I found myself staring at the ceiling most of the time. The television played in the background, but I couldn’t focus on anything. Nothing made me laugh. I’d never been depressed before and wondered how long it would last. I didn’t follow through on my maybe I gave the guys that night. It was a maybe that never came to fruition. It just floated there in maybe land with all the other empty promises people give. Depression—that’s where I was.

I gave a disheartened laugh at the thought—evaluating my own depression and why it felt as shitty as it did, was something Karl or Wynn would think about, not me.

My phone rang and I rolled onto my stomach to grab it from my coffee table.

“Hello?” I said as I turned down the TV.

“Hey man!” Wynn said with an excitement I had never heard in his voice before. “I just had a baby boy! Well I didn’t actually have him, but Hannah did,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” I asked. “That’s awesome man. I’m happy for you,” I said as I sat up to run my hand over my hair. I hadn’t cut or shaved in the last few weeks. Yes, my montage was definitely depressing. Especially since my facial hair looked like a patchy mess.

“His name is Smith Bradbury Hawthorne. We call him Smitty though. Hannah likes to call him Smee after the guy in
Peter Pan
. It’s a bit ridiculous if you ask me, but he’s fucking amazing man.”

I flinched at the cartoon reference, but didn’t let it stop me from being happy for my friend. “That’s a cool fucking name man. He’s going to be an awesome little human—already is I’m sure.”

“That he is. Are you going to come by and see him? We will be at the hospital through tomorrow,” he said with an apparent smile in his voice.

“Yeah, I think I will,” I said. “Can I come by tonight?”

_______________

I walked toward the elevators of the hospital and found Petra standing in front of them, waiting for them to arrive. She pressed the button to call the elevator just as I stepped next to her.

I hated the smell of these places. They were too clean. There is something wrong with places that are this clean.

I rubbed my forehead, trying to ease the pressure that grew right between my eyes. I had a constant scowl that made my head hurt.

“How are you?” Petra asked. I was sure she knew what was going on. Even if I hadn’t been around, I knew someone, probably Gabe, would tell her about my issues.

“Never better,” I said without hiding my sarcasm.

“We all know that’s not true. Why are you lying?” she asked.

“I guess I figure if I say it enough, I’ll start to believe it myself,” I said as I gave my attention back to the descending numbers of the slowest elevator built.

“I hate seeing you this way. I hate seeing anyone this way, but especially you. You’re too happy of a boy to look that serious. It doesn’t suit you. That serious expression suits Wynn, but on you it just looks depressing,” Petra said as the doors to the elevator opened.

I laughed the first genuine laugh in weeks.

“Petra, that’s pretty shitty, but it’s funny,” I said.

“I try Blake. I try,” she said. “You know I saw Brecken a couple weeks ago. She came to Hannah’s baby shower. She didn’t look much better than you, if that makes you feel any better,” Petra said as she turned to face me.

“No, it really doesn’t make me feel better. I honestly don’t want her to feel like shit. For some reason it makes me feel worse knowing she feels like shit,” I said as I rubbed the back of my neck.

“Do you know what that means Blake?” Petra asked and I shook my head.

“You really do love her.”

A clock painted, lying on its side next to the feet of the writer himself. For it is a he. His face lowered to the clock and his shoulders sagged in nervous anticipation.

There is no more waiting.

“Hey,” Mason said as he took a seat next to me on my mother’s couch.

“Hey,” I said, trying to focus on the level of Mario I was on.

“Can I talk to you a minute?” he asked.

“I’m going to step outside,” Conall said, leaving the room and me alone with my son.
Son.
I still hadn’t become used to saying that word.

“Sure,” I said as I paused my game.

“Okay, I know you told me not to talk about him. But I hope now that it has been a couple months, you will hear me out,” he said as he ringed his hands together.

I sighed and leaned my head against the back of the couch. “Mason, I can’t talk about this.”

“You don’t have to talk, just listen,” he said with a pointed expression. “I only knew both of you a month before all this happened. In a month’s time you can get to know someone, but you can’t really know them. But I did know some things about both of you. I saw the two of you from either side. I would be with Blake sometimes without you and vice versa. I don’t know if anyone else was able to be in that position. He has his friends, you have yours, but I was the only one in the middle. I saw how he looked at his phone different when the call or text was from you. I saw how you were different as well. I think if you keep going on like this, you’re going to lose the one person that fits with you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Mason, it isn’t that easy. Maybe someday you’ll understand, but things like that can’t be kept from someone. It’s just wrong. I need complete honesty. He didn’t give me that.”

“It was one fucking day, Brecken. One day,” Mason said and his face contorted in anger. “You spent my whole life not telling me the truth. You ever think about that? I knew I was adopted. I knew my biological mom was out there somewhere. You didn’t even tell my parents your real name. I could be pissed too you know. But I’m not. I’m only eighteen and I understand that people fuck up and all you can do is get over it and move on. But for some reason you can’t get over it.”

“Mason, I’m sorry,” I started to say. He raised his hand to shush me and I couldn’t help but smile at the motion. The same one my brother did, the same one Conall did, and now Mason just did it.

“No. I didn’t say all that to get an apology from you. There is no reason to apologize. My life has been fine—great actually. I love my family. But everyone in this world wants to know where they come from; that’s why I’m here. I actually am happy just having you as a friend. It’s been pretty cool. But you need to get the fuck over yourself and realize your shit stinks too.”

I laughed.

“It’s true, but you smell awful with your stubbornness. That said, I need to tell you something,” Mason said as he ran his hands across his knees. “I’m the one who’s been spray painting around the city.”

The questions. The questions all fit with us—Mason and me. My heart broke.

I was speechless. My jaw dropped as I looked at him and a smile formed on his face. “Seriously?” I asked.

Mason nodded.

“Oh my god, that’s why they’ve stopped? The last one I read was about finding answers. You did those?” I asked again.

“Yes, they were my way of dealing with you not responding to me. I felt lost here. I needed to get all the questions out of me that followed me everywhere. So I started putting them everywhere. Plus, it was pretty fun,” he said with a shy smile. “It was kind of cool hearing everyone talk about them and knowing I did it. I figured if I did that, you’d see them and maybe they would resonate with you.”

I pulled his shoulder to me and took him in for a hug. I found out two months ago that I had a son, not a daughter. But this was the first time I truly hugged him and he felt like my son. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. I was fucking proud though.

“I did the same thing with you in a way. I would go to the movies to see every cartoon and imagine you were seeing the same one. I imagined you as a girl though—sorry. So you would go to a lot of the princess cartoons,” I said with a laugh.

“Actually, I did see most of those with my sisters,” he laughed.

He pulled away from our hug and held me at arm’s length. “You need to get him back.”

I shook my head. “No Mason, I don’t.”

“Why are you so relentless?” he asked.

I laughed. “Relentless? Because, I know what it does to someone when you keep things from them. If he was capable of that, what else could he keep from me?”

“Brecken, come on. It was one fucking day. He didn’t want to take that opportunity from me. If anything, it’s commendable that he kept his mouth shut. He only gave me one day. He said if I didn’t tell you by the next day, he was going to share. If you could’ve seen his face and how he struggled to agree with me, you’d understand.”

“Mason, he lied to me. Yes it was one day, but he knew something and kept it from me. A lot can happen in one day” I said as I remembered the look on Blake’s face when he told me he loved me. How could he
show
that much love and
feel
that much love all while keeping something from me?

“Where does this unwavering attitude about fuck ups come from?” he asked.

He asked the one question now that I did not want to answer. This kid was full of questions. The ones he put on walls were easier, because he wasn’t right in front of me waiting for my response.

I ran my hand through my hair.

“Well Mason, I suppose I should tell you a little family story. It involves your grandparents and our family’s legendary claim on the term fuck up. Your grandmother and grandfather loved each other, but that didn’t stop them from keeping secrets. They let their passions control them and because of that they lied to each other.

“I know they both truly loved each other. It was a strange kind of love though. I guess that kind of passion has its equally passionate anger. They would get so angry with each other. They had some pretty epic fights.

“It was a warm summer night and I was excited for my dad to come home and practice drums with me,” I said with a sarcastic raise of my eyebrow.  “He had called home before leaving work to say that he had to stop off to pick up a few things.

“He never came home that night. I remember sitting at my drums, just waiting. My mom came home early from work. She was in tears. My dad didn’t stop by the store. He was stopping at his girlfriend’s house. Girlfriend’s boyfriend came home. Bye bye Daddy,” I said with cynicism.

“I try to forget that part, but it still haunts me. He fucked up. My dad fucked up and in turn it fucked the rest of us up.

“At one time I thought it was possible my life would redeem itself. I could have what all of us once had in this family. I wanted the love I thought my parents shared. I believed in happily ever after. I was wrong. I fell in love with the wrong boy.