The River Leith (14 page)

Leith was drowning, fighting against a swift current, and he was never going to get his head above water. As soon as he could gulp a breath, he’d go under again, fighting hard to keep himself from throwing things, or punching the wall.

Zach, I’m so sorry.

His texts went unanswered.

In art therapy, he pounded the clay with all his strength, never bothering to attempt to mold anything out of it
—
just hammering it with his fists until the table shook, and the other patients stared at him with wide eyes. The counselor said nothing; she simply watched him with a bland expression that made Leith pound the clay even harder.

Please answer the phone, Zach. I don’t know how else to reach you.

In between his regular therapy appointments, Leith haunted the hospital gym, running on the treadmill until he was blind with exhaustion. It still wasn’t good enough. He nearly punched the blond trainer who tried to joke that Leith was in the gym so much now he should just set up camp by the treadmill. He’d had to close his eyes and throw some air punches while running just to get the urge under control. The trainer had the good sense to look nervous, and he hadn’t spoken to Leith since.

I called Blue Flight. They said you weren’t there, but I heard you in the background. Please call. I need to talk to you.

Dr. Thakur sat through two days of complete silence while Leith paced his office, and on the third day, he watched calmly as Leith trashed a bookshelf, yelling and throwing the books against the opposite wall. When Leith banged his fists against the wall for good measure before sliding down to the floor in a shaking heap, Dr. Thakur stood up from behind his desk and sat down next to him, saying nothing.

Zach, please call me.

In group therapy he listened to David Mueller suffer, again, through the realization that he couldn’t make any new memories, and he sat through Jan Troxell reporting on the weather, again, and when it was his turn he stared at them all for a long time, feeling the words and rage welling inside.

He took some deep breaths, trying to hold it back, and he started out calmly enough. “What fucking good does any of this shit do me?”

He stood up then, his anger mounting. He said, pointing at Jan, “Her bullshit about the weather, and his endless moaning about his fucking memories, and no
—
don’t tell me to stop, because he won’t fucking remember that I’ve said this tomorrow, so what does it fucking matter?”

His hands were shaking. “How does this help me at all?” he yelled. “I’ve got a dead father, a mother who killed herself, and I’m missing three years of my fucking life. I’m in love with someone and I don’t understand why! And my whore brother is fucking a girl who just stopped being a kid two years ago or some shit like that, and our dirty laundry is everyone’s business! I don’t want to box, but I want to box, and I hate that I don’t remember almost winning, and I hate that I’m here, and I hate you for your stupid face, and I hate them for never getting better, and I hate all of this! All of it! Do you understand?”

The unruffled counselor regarded him evenly. “Thank you, Leith. I’m glad you shared that with us.”

He turned around and punched the wall.

Zach, I don’t blame you if you think I’m insane.

The guilt made Leith feel physically ill. Whenever he remembered the sound of his fist connecting with Zach’s face, he nearly doubled over. Leith didn’t know what to do. He needed to make it right. He was going to go insane if he didn’t see Zach again, if only to tell him that he understood if Zach no longer wanted to be friends with a mad man. It wasn’t as if Leith could blame him.

I understand if you can’t talk to me right now, but just let me know that you’re okay.

The texts still went unanswered. Leith typed in a final message, but he never pressed send. He kept it under drafts and looked at it several times a day, fingering the send button before turning his phone off and going to work out again. Even if he couldn’t send the message, it somehow made Leith feel better just to see the words.

Zach, I don’t understand it, but I think I’m in love with you.

Stepping out into the garden, the heat was oppressive, and Leith stared up at a sky so bright it was almost white. He sat on his favorite bench where he often met with Dr. Thakur, shaded by the oak tree’s branches. He picked at a loose thread on the seam of his jeans.

Burying his face in his hands, he remembered Zach’s messed up hair when he’d spent the night, and the way Zach had smiled when Leith confessed his manly love of musicals, and the way Zach’s hands moved when he talked like birds in flight, and how much Leith wanted to grab them and kiss them. Without Zach, he was floating away into despair and rage.

He didn’t know how long he sat there. It was long enough for the sun to have poured heat into his bones, leaving him feeling exhausted and drowsy
—
so that at first he thought it was a dream.

“Hey.”

Leith looked up slowly. It wasn’t possible. Was it? He gripped the edge of the bench harder, and it felt very real. He stared at Zach standing there in the hospital garden. Zach’s green T-shirt made his eyes seem even prettier, and his legs looked long and lean in dark jeans. A bruise still colored his chin, and Leith felt sick.

It wasn’t a dream, and he didn’t know what to say. “Zach,” Leith began, and he lifted his hands and let them fall again. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault. I should have known not to get in the way of a fist like that.”

Leith shook his head and kept his eyes averted, a lump forming in his throat and his eyes stinging. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t make it sound like that. It was me. I…ever since this accident, I just lose control. I’m not safe, I guess. Not safe to be around.”

Zach knelt in front of him, sitting on his heels. “That’s not true. You’re going through a lot right now. You’re scared, and you’re trying to protect yourself.”

Leith shook his head. “Please stop. I don’t want to hear that.”

“It’s the truth, Leith.”

“It’s not!” Leith shrank back from Zach, frightened by his own outburst. He conceded, “Well, it’s true, but it doesn’t make it okay.” He closed his eyes.

“Leith,” Zach took his hand and squeezed it. “Please don’t hide away from me.”

Leith couldn’t believe it. He opened his eyes and resisted the urge to jerk his hand away from Zach’s grasp. “What about you? You didn’t come back. You didn’t take my calls or return my texts.”

Zach took a slow breath and let it out. “I know. I’m sorry.
I
was scared too.”

Leith’s throat was so tight, fighting back tears, that he could barely say, “I’m sorry.” His chest ached with a pain so intense he thought he might die from it.

“No, no
—
not of you, Leith. Well…yes, I was scared of you, but not for the reason you think.”

Leith stared at him. “Why then?”

“It’s a secret, but I’ll tell you if you promise to keep it to yourself, and you won’t tell another soul?”

Leith nodded, his eyes locked onto Zach’s. He wanted to do anything, any tiny thing to put this right.

“Sometimes I think if you really knew me, then you wouldn’t like me anymore.”

“Nothing would make me stop liking you.”

Zach’s eyes held his for a long moment. “I want to believe that.”

“I don’t know you. I don’t even know why we’re friends, and I still like you. I like you…” Leith swallowed hard and exhaled a shaky breath, searching for the right word. “Desperately.”

Zach’s eyes glowed.

Leith wanted to backtrack, erase and rewind, but instead he said, “I really need you around.”

“Leith, I can be around for as long as you want.” Zach reached up to Leith’s face and stroked into his hair.

Leith’s eyes fell to Zach’s mouth, and when he flicked his gaze back to Zach’s eyes, he was breathless to find an answering tenderness there. When Zach rose up on his knees and gently kissed him, Leith felt himself loosen and unwind, awash with relief unlike any he’d known before. He kissed Zach back, amazed at Zach’s lips, softer then the rose petals he’d held, and the strange scrape of stubble was shockingly tantalizing.

“Oh,” Leith breathed against Zach’s mouth.

“Shh,” Zach said, and kissed him again.

Leith knotted his hands in Zach’s shirt, dragging him closer between his legs, wanting more of his scent, and taste, and touch. Zach didn’t resist, and Leith nearly cried in relief when Zach’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling Leith even deeper into the kiss.