Beautiful Boy(45)

He sat on the edge of the bed, dropped his head into his hands, and took  deep breaths before speaking. "I flushed them down the toilet and never  threw away the bottle. The glass is always in the bathroom because I  use it to rinse after brushing my teeth."

"Why did you even have the bottle out to begin with?"

His hands finally fell away from his face. His gaze met mine at the same  moment the light reflected off the moisture in his eyes. "I honestly  don't know. I guess to take one to help with the pain? But then my mind  went really dark and I ended up holding a handful."

"So you thought about it?"

He shrugged slightly, as if he wasn't sure of his answer. "Not really,  but yes. I thought more about how easy it would be, but not really about  following through with it."

"What happened today? I thought you had plans tonight? You never  answered any of my texts. Tell me what's going on, Nolan." It was meant  to sound like a demand, but ended up coming out like a plea.

A desperate, fearful plea.

"I did have plans. My dad wanted to get together over dinner. But then  this morning he changed the plans and took me out for breakfast  instead."

"I've sent texts all day … "

"I'm sorry," he said with a deep sigh. "My dad has a way of fucking with  my head, and ever since leaving him this morning, everything has gone  to shit."

"What happened?" I whispered, on the verge of crying more.

"He … pissed me off. I came home, took a shower, and then found the pills.  It wasn't like I wanted to take them, Novah. I swear. I thought about  it, sure. But it was more about shutting my father up than anything  else."

"So why did you flush them? What made you do that?" I didn't want him to  say it was because of me. I loved how I'd been able to save him in the  past from following through with it, but in reality, it'd never been me  who had saved him. I'd only been a memory. We were together now, and I  desperately wanted to see some change in him. I needed to see some proof  of him fighting for himself.

I couldn't keep doing this if I had to worry all the time about him ending his life. I wasn't strong enough for that.

A small sigh escaped him as he ran his fingers over his face. "The only  reason to take them was to put an end to the hateful words replaying  over and over again in my head."

"What hateful words?"

"My dad's. He has a way of getting inside my thoughts and making me  doubt everything. I don't agree with anything he says, yet I find myself  believing him. And I hate it."

"So you wanted to shut him up in your head?"         

     



 

He nodded and leaned forward, dropping his attention to his lap. So much  emotion poured from him, but I couldn't seem to understand anything  other than hopelessness.

"I just needed to do something to take my mind off it, to focus on  something else … not kill myself. I've been there before-I know all too  well what desperation leads to. I know what it's like to believe you're  facing a wall with nowhere to run. But that's not how it was today … it's  not how it is anymore. The wall is still there, but now I have you. You  are where I can run to."

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because, Novah." His voice strengthened and he lifted his head, locking  his eyes with mine. "It's like I'm stuck in a maze. You're the finish  line, the end goal, but I have to be the one to find my way there. I  can't rely on your direction all the time. I have to do this myself."

My chest swelled with pride at his words, although I was still saddened  by the thought of him suffering so much. I wanted to help him, but he'd  been right. He had to do this on his own. I could hold his hand, take  each step with him, yet he had to be the one to find his way. All I  could do was offer him my company while he found it.

"So you just went to bed and stayed in here all day?"

"No," he whispered while shaking his head adamantly. "I pulled out the  camera bag you gave me. I went to get a roll of film to load it,  planning to sit on my balcony and take pictures of the boats out on the  river. But instead, I found something."

I waited and waited for him to tell me what he'd found, but he never  did. A slow smile crept up on his scruffy face, and suddenly, the weight  had been lifted. The worry faded and the doubt cleared. Whatever he  found must've been what had saved him.

"I want to show you something … "

I tilted my head, waiting for him to finish his sentence. But the smile  had fallen off his lips and his eyes turned away from me.

"If you give me a minute to … get ready, I can show you. But I'm not … I don't have … "

His leg. It hadn't even registered to me that he'd been in bed. I'd been  so concerned when I'd found him, I hadn't even thought about it.

I didn't want to make him more uncomfortable, especially after such a  horrible day for him, so I relented. Against my better judgment, I gave  in to his wishes.

"I'll be in the hallway. Let me know when you're ready." And then I walked out of the room, leaving the door cracked behind me.





Eighteen





I waited in the hallway with my shoulder against the wall, leaning into  it as if it were my lifeline at the moment. My insides still trembled  and I didn't trust my legs to hold me up. After the scare I just went  through, I didn't think I would ever be able to stand straight again.

It couldn't have been more than thirty seconds after I walked out of his  room before the door opened. Soft light filtered into the hallway at my  back. Although, I didn't turn around until I heard harsh clacking  sounds on the tile behind me.

I slowly rolled my shoulder against the wall until I faced Nolan, taking  in his shadow. My gasp rang out in the quiet hall and I quickly covered  my lips with my fingers. Nolan hadn't put on his leg. Instead, he stood  before me with his crutches, holding still as I took in his silhouette.

His shoulders hunched over slightly as he supported his weight on the  crutches cradled beneath his armpits. But not even the dim lighting or  his stooped posture could hide the defined muscles in his arms, his  shoulders, his beautifully bare chest. My gaze naturally scanned him,  roaming down to his trim waist. I became entranced by the way his  basketball shorts hung low on his hips yet formed perfectly around his  ass and upper thighs before hanging loose, empty on his left side.

My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, his vulnerability on full  display. My breath caught in my chest as I took him all in-every  strength and every weakness. And then warmth flooded me, pride running  wild through my veins. I wanted to say something, but I held back out of  fear he'd change his mind.

"What did you want to show me?" I asked, refraining from going to him. I  don't know why, but I worried if I moved, I'd scare him off. And I  didn't want to do that.

Without a word, he made his way to me, paused, and then moved a few more  feet down the hall to another door. It was the same room I'd gone into  when looking for a bathroom-his home office.

"The darkroom?" I asked when his hand stilled on the door handle. I  couldn't tell due to the lack of sufficient light, but he seemed  hesitant to let me in.         

     



 

Instead of answering me, he opened the door and held out his hand for me  to enter. I took a few steps before hearing the sounds of his crutches  move in behind me and then soften over the carpet.

The light above came on and I was rewarded with the most amazing sight.  Tables lined one wall, all set up with labeled trays, organized and  clean. Black film covered the only window in the room, and shelves lined  the wall below with every chemical he needed to develop pictures. On  the other wall, he had a small table with enlarger equipment and a  cabinet, probably where he stored his clean paper to keep away from  light.

"Wow, Nolan. This is amazing."

"I'm just happy this room had a bathroom attached. The last time I had  my own developing space, it was in my closet-without running water."

I finally turned to face him, seeing him for the first time in real  light. But I made sure to keep my eyes on his and not allow myself to  take in his full form now that I could see it. "Did you finish this  today?"

He shook his head, his gaze flitting around the room nervously. "No. I  finished it yesterday. I developed film today." He crossed the room to  one of the tables. "I told you I went through the camera bag you gave  me. I was planning to take pictures. But as I started to organize  everything, getting together the lenses and filters, I found a canister  at the bottom."

"Yes … I had quite a bit of extra film in there."

"The one I found was used."

My gut twisted, unsure of what he meant. I hadn't used that bag or  camera in years-since high school. For my eighteenth birthday, my  parents had bought me a digital camera, so the old one had been pushed  to the back of my closet and never touched again.