Gone (3 page)

“Not until you tell me what's going on here.” Chris stepped over to the desk and picked up one of the contracts, but his father swiped it from his hand.

“Chris, this has nothing to do with you, all right? This is none of your concern.”

“Oh, the family business is none of my concern now?”

“This
is none of your concern. Go back to school, or go home, or go anywhere. Just go. We will talk
later”

“No, I'd rather stay, thanks.” Chris plopped down in his father's chair and threw his feet up on the desk. “Let's bring General Colter back in—maybe he'll tell me what's going on.” Chris reached for the phone, but his father slammed it back down.

“Enough!” Dr. Rodke hissed. There was so much anger in his father's eyes, Chris actually caught himself flinching, but he covered it immediately. And somewhere in that moment, Chris finally realized what an idiot he was being.

This was about the drug. Of course. This was about their entire operation. They were making some kind of deal with the military, and Chris wasn't supposed to know a thing about it. They were keeping him completely out of the loop. “The army?” Chris uttered. “We're working with the army?” Blood
rushed to his face with each word. His nails dug into his palms. “When exactly were you going to tell me? When was anyone going to tell me what we were planning here?”

“We
are not planning anything, Chris.
Skyler
and I are planning. You did your part. You did your job, and now it's done. So you can go now, and you can spend some of my money, or throw yourself one of your parties, or whatever it is you do, and your brother and I will take it from here. Do you understand?”

Each word was more condescending than the last. Chris could feel the humiliation gathering in his chest like an infection. He looked his father deep in the eye.
“I
am your son, too, asshole. And in case you haven't noticed, I have practically been running this entire thing myself, risking my life out there in the scummiest parts of this city for you, while your favorite son has been ‘handling' the oh-so-challenging task of flirting with jail bait. So why won't you give me some freaking
respect,
goddammit?”

“Shut up!” His father dug his fingers into Chris's arm and tugged him brutally out of his chair. “I told you to keep your voice down. Christ, I've tried to be patient with you, but I am so sick of your whining. You want my respect, Chris? You want my respect? Then stop acting like a
child.
Look at you. You come prancing in here like a spoiled schoolboy who wants his daddy. Like some goddamn drama queen starring in
the school play. What do you think that man out there thinks of me now? You made me look like a
fool,
Chris. And if you blow this deal for us, I swear to God… Look, I just want you out of here. Now. I want you miles away from this office, from this deal, from
any
deal this company is trying to make. Here's how to earn my respect, Chris: Stop embarrassing the hell out of me. And if you really must hear me say it, then I'll say it. Learn how to be more like your brother.”

“Like my—?”

“Like a
man,
Chris. Stop prancing around and
be
a
man.”

Ugly silence filled the room.

It was by far the closest his father had ever come to actually saying it:
If you want my respect, then stop being gay.
Chris was so furious, he could barely breathe.

“You want to see a child?” Chris uttered. “You want to see what a child acts like? This is what a child acts like.”

Chris slammed his hands down on the desk, scrunched the contracts in his hands, and threw them up into the air with every ounce of pubescent tantrum he had in him.

“Goddammit!” his father hollered, crouching to the floor to collect the mess. “Get out!” But the truth was, this was no tantrum. Chris's rage had already moved way past tantrum into that
beautifully calm zone of anger, where everything became very cold and very distant and very calculated. The tantrum was in fact a distraction. The moment his father crouched to the floor, Chris grabbed one of the contracts and stuffed it inside his bag.

His reason for stealing the copy of the contract was simple. If he was going to exact revenge on his father and Skyler, he would need to know everything they'd been planning.

Because that's what a
man
would do, right? When a man is shunned by his own family, a man seeks revenge.

Apparently all of New York City was just a cage full of lab rats to the Rodke brothers.

IT WAS ONLY AN HOUR BUS RIDE out to Carverton, New York, and Ed was glad he' done it. He certainly didn't mind taking the rest of the day off from school, and it had given his ears a break from the incessant prom chatter of the FOHs. His last few second-semester-senior classes hardly counted as classes anyway.

The odd thing was, the moment he creaked open Heather's door at Carverton School for the Blind, a huge grin came over Heather's beautiful face. Did Heather just smile whenever anyone walked into her room now?

The first words out of her mouth confused him even further. “Edward H. Fargo.” She smiled. “You freaking stud.”

Ed's eyes widened as a tentative smile cropped up on his own face. “Wait… How did you know it was me?”

“It's that raggedy-ass yellow T-shirt.” She laughed. “It just screams ‘Ed.'”

Ed peered deeper into Heather's eyes as her smile began to grow. “No way…” A rush of excitement ran up his spine. “You can see me?”

Heather stood up from her desk and walked slowly toward him. She reached out her hands and placed them on either side of his face. “I can see you,” she whispered.
Her eyes welled up slightly, and then she threw her arms around him, giving him a huge bear hug.

It truly was like going back in time.

The hug went on and on until Heather finally pulled away and looked into Ed's eyes. “I mean… I can
sort of see
you,” she explained. “You are a complete blur, but you are stunningly gorgeous. Come! Sit down.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him over to her bed, where they both plopped down, face-to-face.

Ed hardly knew where to start, given this incredible development. He couldn't form much of a sentence. “I don't… I mean, that's just… What happened?”

“It just
started,
” Heather announced, throwing her arms up in the air. She was absolutely beaming. “I just woke up one morning two weeks ago and there were these spots. And then a few days later there were some colors, and then it all just sort of
opened up
… into this big, beautiful blur. I mean, the doctors had always said there was a good chance I'd recover, and some days I didn't believe them, but then I would think about
you,
Ed. The way you dealt with everything and the way you worked and worked when you knew there might be a chance to walk. That's why I wanted you to be the first person to come. I wanted you to be the first person from back home who I can
see.
I mean, besides my parents. And you, Mr. Fargo, are such a sight for sore eyes.” She laughed, gazing at Ed for another moment, and then
she burst forward and threw her arms around him again. Ed was forced to swipe a tiny and extremely embarrassing tear from the corner of his eye. He hoped it was all too much of a blur for Heather to notice.

Ed was so genuinely elated for Heather that her joke didn't even seem corny. Although he still felt it would be too corny to tell her that he'd felt the exact same way the moment he'd walked through the door. Heather truly was a sight for sore eyes. This was exactly what he'd needed. A blast from the past. Something
real.
A very real bit of good news from a very old friend. This was something to celebrate. A beginning, not an ending. No glitzy gown or tuxedo required.

Ed studied Heather's face, from her silken brown hair to her red-flushed cheeks to her perfect little chin. “I'm just… I'm really happy for you.”

“But wait.” She grinned. “There's
more.
”

“What? What else could there possibly be?”

“Well… I asked you to come for another reason, Ed.”

“Oh, really?” He cracked a dubious half smile. “And what is that?”

“Well, here's the thing.” She giggled. “What with the considerable lack of a social life here at Carverton, I have been working my ass off making up all my missing credits. And after much red tape, and many phone calls between principals, and a
considerable
amount of charm on my part… they're going to let me graduate with you guys!”

“A
ha.
” Ed smiled. “Sweet. That's awesome, Heather.”

Heather took a series of small bows. “Thank you, thank you. Yet… there is
still
more.”

“Yikes.”

“Not only can I graduate with the class, but after inflicting another dose of considerable charm on my parents… I can go to the prom! As long as I have a chaperone that they ‘know and trust.'”

Quite suddenly Heather dropped her head and stared down at the bedsheets. Her brazen joy had all but disappeared, replaced by a most uncharacteristic attack of what looked an awful lot like… shyness? “I was going to call you…,” she uttered quietly, “but now that you're here… I was, you know… kind of hoping…” Her eyes drifted along the entire bed over to the floor. “Well, kind of
praying,
actually… that
you
would take me.” She finally turned back up to Ed, squinting tentatively, as if to shield herself from a potential blow. “Would you, Ed…? Would you take me to the prom?”

Ed went silent. He felt the most bittersweet pain in his chest. This he had not expected. Not just her request, but the way she had asked it. With such sweetness and insecurity—and
sweet
and
insecure
were two adjectives that no one ever would have used to describe Heather Gannis back in the day.

He thought he had come here to reminisce—to
relive the old days. But this moment had only served to remind him just how much things had changed. Somewhere along the way, Heather Gannis had become humble. Just a year or two ago, if Heather Gannis had approached Ed Fargo and asked
him
to the prom? It would have been like some kind of dream sequence—Shred the skater boy's secret little fantasy. But now a year ago felt like a thousand years. And as much as Ed had been hoping to go back in time, this was his wake-up call. That was then, and this was now.

Heather looked so vulnerable, he could hardly get the words out. The last thing he wanted to do was poke holes in her hard-earned happiness. But he really had no choice. Now he found himself squinting, too, just to get the words out.

“I… I can't,” he said.

Heather's shoulders slumped slightly forward, and her head began to drop again, but she quickly raised it and forged some version of a smile on her lips.

“I'm sorry,” Ed added quickly.

“That's okay.”

“I really am.”

“It's
okay,
” she assured him with a forced chuckle. “I know it's a little late in the game to be asking.”

“Yeah, I just… I already have a date.”

Heather couldn't help but raise a curious eyebrow. Her eyes even brightened a bit. “
Gaia?
”

“Oh,
nooo,
” Ed assured her, waving his hands as if the suggestion were insane. “Jesus, why would you even ask that? We barely speak.”

“I know. But for a second there I thought she might have come to her senses in the end.”

Ed's entire face contorted with disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

Heather crossed her arms and gave Ed a long stare. “Ed, come on. The girl's in love with you. She always has been.”

Ed coughed out a tragic laugh. “You really have been gone a long time.”

“Oh,
please,
Ed. Love is love.”

“Yeah, right…” Once again Heather had managed to induce a bittersweet pain in Ed's chest. Not to mention twist his stomach into knots. He had to change the subject. “Well, anyway, I am most definitely not going with Gaia. I'm going with this girl Kai from school. It's a totally platonic deal,” he added, although he wasn't sure why. “I mean… you know… she's cool. We sort of started a thing, but… it wasn't really that kind of a thing. She's a good friend. I mean… pretty good.”

“Well, that's nice,” Heather said, looking unconvinced. “So then who is Gaia going with?”

Ed cringed. It was his least favorite topic. “I don't really know. Jake Montone maybe or this Skyler guy. Haven't Megan and Melanie been keeping you constantly informed?”

Heather snorted. “Yeah, sure, they've sent me a lot of babble-gossip e-mails about it, but who would be dumb enough to believe them? God, after all this time they're still so obsessed with Gaia. It's tragic”

“I know.”

“Low self-esteem.”

“Yeah…”

Now they both went silent. Somewhere along the way, this jubilant little reunion had taken a wrong turn. Heather finally let out a small sigh as she stared back at the floor.

“I'm really sorry I can't go with you,” Ed said, trying to catch her eyes. “I totally would if I hadn't already—”

“No, it's not that,” Heather interrupted. “It's not that.”

“Oh.” He searched Heather's eyes. “Then what?”

She let out a much longer sigh this time, turning to gaze out the small window of her room. “I don't know. It's just… we've been through
so much crap,
Ed. All this violence, and all this tragedy, and all this pain. And we made it. I mean, we're alive. You can walk. I can
see.
There should be some sort of celebration, you know? A huge one. Maybe that's what the prom is for, I don't know. And maybe it will be, but… look at us.” She turned back to him, raising her eyebrows. “I mean, don't get me wrong: I am so grateful for what I
have. I have my sight back. I get to graduate with you guys. I have
you
here. But God… our lives are so different. We're so different. I'm not even saying that's a bad thing, it's just… I can't speak for you, but this is definitely
not
where I thought I'd be when graduation came around.”