Date: Tue, 27 Jul 2004 20:52:13 -0600 From: Karla Schulz Subject: Carrots and Celery Part Three Chapter 21 This is marginally quicker, is it not? It's got to be. I'm certain the last post was only like a few days ago. Which means I totally don't suck anymore. I love it. And you should all feel and show the love. Also, you could read the chapter. If you want. If there are people out there in the world also reading the preppie and the punk and are wondering, what the fuck? give me time. Something has gone awry, but it's going to work out and be fine. Fine as in new chapters soon. More word given as a Spainard. For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, sorry. And I throw her the keys... --- I've sort of lost track of the day of the week, but I'm at school, so it's a week day. I can tell you that much. The weekend is a blur, but not a total blur, so I'm thinking it can't have been all that long ago. So basically, it's probably Monday or Tuesday. Either way, right now I'm walking to my locker with Colin. I'm trying to keep up a conversation about our law assignment, but he's not really holding up his end. More occupied sighing and giving me calculating looks, which, by the way, are starting to wig me out. "Dude, why are you looking at me like that?" I ask when I can't stand it anymore. He shrugs. "No reason really. I guess I was just thinking, and I don't know, I just sort of realized it's a good thing that you're okay with what's happened." Okay, suspicion. I mean, don't think I didn't hear the last part of that comment, you know, the part that says PS this is a trap. "Yeah?" "Yeah I mean, why should you get all torn about Celery leaving anyway? He's kind of an asshole. So he was your best friend for like your whole life, I get why you felt like you had to be loyal to him, but you're obviously realizing that you've grown out of him. And, no big loss, that, really. I mean, he seemed pretty boring to me. You probably just didn't realize how uncool he was until after he went away for awhile and you started hanging around some actual interesting people. And okay, not gay, but I still don't think he was that good looking. He has that whole dumb jock thing working for him, lots of muscles or whatever, but there's really no substance. Just fluff." Every word Colin speaks is like a spark, and the more he talks the bigger the flame. By the time he finishes talking, there's a raging fire of well, rage, burning inside me. But new, because unlike before, it's wild and uncontrolled. "I bet he can't even—" And very suddenly, I have Colin slammed up against the lockers. "You don't talk about him like that," I hiss furiously. "He may have left but he's still mine and I still love him and you DON'T say that shit about him. You don't even know him." I give him another vicious shake, but Colin only stares back at me impassively. We stare into each other, and I feel all my rage draining, giving way to shock and horror. I turn away from him, and slide down the lockers onto my knees. Colin is quickly at my side, fighting to keep eye contact, and forcing me to stay with the emotions as they scream and churn inside me. That little split second of surrender, of letting the emotion come back free and honest pretty much opened the floodgates. Unable to hold it in any longer, I break down right there, and sob into myself, as Colin looks on from a foot away, careful not to interfere with needs to be done. I'm aware in only the vaguest sense of all the people around me, kept at bay only by wariness and Colin's glares. I think Jonas might be watching from a distance as well, but I'm so lost in myself and the pain of my release, I only keep on crying. "Colin I love him," I whisper weakly after an eternity. He nods. "I know." And he's not happy or sad about it, he's just recognizing that it's true. Then Colin's backing away, and Jonas is brushing his fingers angel soft on my wet cheeks and I'm looking at him through the tears that are still falling silently, and I feel like I haven't seen him in months, and maybe it a way that's more true than I'd like to admit. I close my eyes and his arms, which are ridiculously strong to be so small, are around me, first to embrace, and then to aid my standing. Colin lets all this happen, again, refusing to interfere. I smile at him sadly, gratefully, and then leaning against Jonas, start walking away. After that fun little event, which I now fondly refer to as the Locker Incident, I spend some quality time wallowing in my room. Listening to depressing music, crying, raging, staring bleakly at nothing, yelling at no one, and generally feeling everything I tried so hard to shut out the first two weeks. My parents came to me that first night, and I wasn't nearly strong enough to build protective walls of nonchalance and apathy in response to their frank and blushingly intimate questions about the events leading up to Celery's departure. I was mildly alarmed when words like `abuse' and `battery' got thrown around, and scrambled to explain to them how very unlike that it was. "It was something we did to each other, not him to me. And I can't... I mean, you're my mom and dad, I'm not exactly up for discussing sex of any kind with you, certainly not sex involving ME, but that's what it was. And whatever we did was..." I struggle for a nice clinical sounding word like the ones they were using. "Consensual." What I said failed to totally erase the fear and suspicion in their eyes, so I forced myself to go on. "Whatever pain and fury I'm feeling, all the varied and horrible things that are making me act in all the gloriously self destructive ways I've been these past weeks... it has nothing to do with the... whatever physical stuff went down between us." I can't quite finish this thought all the way, into actually verbalizing his leaving and what it's done for me, but the doubt has been banished from their eyes. My mom kisses the top of my head and my dad squeezes my shoulder. "Okay son." On day three, I've actually come far enough that I find myself able to look at some pictures of him. Of us. This inevitably leads to much more crying but that was pretty much a mortal lock. That afternoon, curled up into myself, still trying to recover from the images of us still swimming in my head, focusing hard on thinking about nothing, there's a knock on my door. I'm not especially surprised. There's always someone who drops in a couple times over the course of a day, just to check on me, and maybe force some food into me. This time it's Jonas. "Hey," He says quietly, using that broken glass tone everyone does with me these days. Like I could break at any second, which of course is true. "Hi," He holds up something in his right hand and smiles sort of awkwardly. "Um, I've got something for you," I raise my eyebrows slightly in response. He edges closer. "It's, well, I know you're like into music a lot these days or whatever, and like, I thought I'd give this to you. It's um, Stereolab? I don't know if you've heard of them. Anyway, it's pretty good, and like, it'll mellow you right out," I smile a little bit. A sad half smile, and not really a smile at all, but it's something. "Kind of like ocean sounds?" He smiles for real. "Yeah, and it's also like, good for a wallowing in melancholy if that's what you're going for." No need for me to comment on that one. "Does it have singing?" Asking since I know he's all anti-lyrics and vocals. "Sometimes, but it's easy to ignore, and also, not usually in English. Which works for me," I reach out, and he meets me half-way to hand over the cd. He's gives me a 'see ya later then' type nod and turns to leave. I lie back down and pop the cd in. At the last minute, when he's already got one foot out the door I call back, "Hey Jonas," He turns, blinks at me. "How are you doing man?" "What?" "I just... I care about that. I mean, I know I haven't been acting like it lately, but I do. I care about you, I love you. I want to know if you're okay, and talk to you about why if you're not and just... I want to deserve to be your brother." He looks momentarily overcome, and then is beside me on the bed in a flash, and for the second time in recent history, we're hugging for dear life. "You'll always be my brother Carrots, and not just cause I plan to trick Kyle into marrying me someday. Because I love you right back, and that's not going to change. Even if you do get wrapped up in yourself and forget about how awesome I am every once in awhile." His grin saves me from wanting to weep with guilt, and I just nod. "Thanks." He punches me in the arm. "Don't mention it." "I still want to know, I mean, I'm glad we could have this touching moment," he laughs softly, "But I asked cause I wanted to know. How are you?" "You mean about Celery's leaving?" He asks this very carefully, gauging my reaction about every word passes his lips. I don't respond right away, but I don't freak out either. Eventually, I shake my head. "No, or at least, not specifically. I guess I was mostly asking about the whole Jonas Picture. I'd been missing out on what's been going on in your life before all this stuff happened." He's too nice to openly and heartily agree, and I save the joking comment/Xander quote, "don't all jump to disagree" for another time. "I'm doing okay Care, a lot better than you are right now." I sigh. "That doesn't matter – or it shouldn't anyway. Just cause I've decided to go around the bend again and have another melodramatic angst fest doesn't mean your pain or happiness or boredom or whatever isn't important. My stupid drama shouldn't make other people's lives matter less. I don't want to act like that anymore." Jonas looks like he's trying hard not to raise his eyebrows in deep skepticism. I wish I didn't deserve for him to. "Help a brother out," I beg at least partly jokingly. "Well, it's not that I was lying. This shit with Celery's thrown everyone into the pain orbit, but it's not like I have to tell you that. In other news... that's where the okay part isn't a lie. Things with my parents are... they're not great, but they are improving. We've worked up to them just disliking Kyle cause he's dating me, not disliking him cause he's a GUY who's dating me. So that's progress. And he's been amazing about it. If you want to put your guilt to use, thank him sometime for me. Because he's a good man, and I'm beginning to realize this thing probably would have happened with me anyway, but later when I was even less equipped to handle it and with someone who would never be able to be all the things Kyle is to me." I take his hand and squeeze it, and Jonas laughs, and it's a laugh I've heard from myself too many times, one covering a sob. "Wow. I didn't realize how close to the surface that stuff was," He mumbles kinda sheepishly. "Thank you for still trusting me to hear it." He tilts his head and smiles wanly. "Don't forget I loved YOU first. I'm always going to want to tell you stuff, be close to you. It's kinda of why I wanted to be your friend in the first place." I can't answer that without tears of my own, so I just give his hand another squeeze. We sit together like that for a long time, and it's the best I've felt in a long time. Day four is bad, as I suffer an almost totally regression after the activities of the previous day. Mostly I life on my bed and try to find my way back to that empty place but before I do the twins stop in to check on me. Instead of searching even harder, I let them in and we talk for awhile. About nothing really, but it gets me through the really shaky period and keeps me grounded. On the fifth day, I do a dangerous thing. I put in the Princess Bride. Okay, so first I spend pretty much the whole morning staring at the box frozen by indecision, but come on. It's still a huge step – a big huge hard one that almost causes me to trip into oblivion. About half-way through, Kyle stops by and I pause the movie, grateful for the break. "Hey," "Hey," "Whadd'ya doing?" I nod at the screen. "Watching the Princess Bride." He makes a `whoa' face. "How's that going?" I shrug. "Oh, you know. Something funny'll happen and I'll laugh, then I'll remember and start to cry. But you know – progress." He nods. "Yeah. I though it'd take you a lot longer to get here." I understand what he means. "Well, it sorta did. I mean, it seems like I've only been dealing for five days and in a way that's true, but it's happening fast because there's such a back log of emotion I've been having to deal with coming from the other two weeks of denial and repression. All the making up for lost time is just speeding everything up. It's more compressed this way, more intense, but it's faster too." He looks at me very seriously. "Are you actually starting to feel better? I mean, for real? Cause no one is asking you to rush ANYTHING. We just want you to be able to be honest with yourself. And really feel whatever's there. That's the only way you'll ever get to be okay again." I look back at him with just as much severity. "Kyle, I might never be okay again – not the whole thing. I can't ever have that without Celery. But I am letting myself feel it – everything that's there. The good and the bad and the so far beyond bad it's doesn't even seem possible. So don't worry about me okay?" He shakes his head, smiling ruefully. "I've been worrying about you since the day you were born – you're my little brother. The worrying about you, the wanting to watch out for you and fix everything that's wrong in your life – it's automatic. I love you too much to ever stop worrying about you. But I'm glad I at least don't have to worry about losing you to that freaky dark place again. I know it hurts to be out here with us Care, but I'm glad you're here." In a truly shocking turn of events, I feel myself smile. "Thanks Kyle." He tries not to beam at me too big, but fails. I guess its cause this is probably the first time since Celery left that Kyle's seen me smile for real. It may actually be the first time period. "Should I let you get back to your movie?" He asks after a couple seconds. "Yeah, sure. See you later," He nods. "Yeah, I'll be around some time in the evening. You want me to bring up supper?" "That's alright," Concern crosses his face. "You need to eat Carrots," I meet his eyes for one final serious look. "I know, and I will. Just not today," I let mom feed me yesterday and I'm so used to eating nothing, I still feel full from it. "I don't want you to get sick Carrots. You're looking really pale. You need food and maybe some fresh air. Why don't you go out on the balcony for awhile? Just like half an hour it'd really..." I tune him out, but smile a little inwardly as Kyle the concerned older brother teams up with Kyle the nurse in training. "Kyle," I stop him eventually, mid ramble about my needing proper vitamins. He blinks and stays quiet. "I'm not hungry, but I'll eat something if you want." "Don't do it for me," He protests quietly. I sigh. "Right now, it has to be for you cause I don't care enough to do it for me. But I'll eat." Finally, he nods. "Alright. I'll get you soup or something. Would you eat chocolate? You need protein," I find myself smiling for the second time that day. "Sure bro. Whatever you want," he smiles happily and turns to leave. "I'll be right back," he says over his shoulder. "Kyle, I didn't mean I'd eat now!" I call after him. He takes a step back into the room. I shrug my eyes at him, "Give me a couple hours yeah?" It puts a damper on his enthusiasm, but eventually Kyle agrees. "Okay," He smiles tightly, "good luck with the rest of the movie." "Thanks." I'm definitely going to need it. Kyle returns later as promised, bearing food which I take without comment and begin eating. He stays leaned up against the wall, watching me. "How're you feeling?" He asks eventually. I think about this with my head titled back and chewing my lip, until I eventually come up with, "Better." Kyle raises his eye brows. "Really?" His tone hasn't quite reached hopeful, but that's what it wants to be. "Well I mean, I'm not okay, and I wouldn't even go as far as to say I'm `fine', but yeah – better. I mean come on, I made it through the entire movie without throwing myself the pity party of the century, and I didn't cry the WHOLE time. I even laughed a few times without starting to cry! So I think that's pretty encouraging." He smiles sadly. "Yeah, I guess so. I'm glad." I shrug. "You want to know the real sign that I'm starting to feel a little bit more like myself?" He nods. "Definitely," I sigh. "I'm starting to worry about Celery," Kyle carefully keeps his reaction to this hidden, and I continue, "For the longest time, I couldn't even stand to think of him – not just cause of how much it hurt – because of the anger to. I've been – and okay, AM – SO mad at him. But now, with all the letting myself feel that's been going down, I really am feeling all of it, which happens to include a lot of worry for him. I know he was the one who did the leaving, but to have felt that he had to – it must have been awful for him." Kyle walks over to me, and I lean into him readily. "Have you talked to him at all, you know, since...?" Kyle shakes his head. "No. None of us have." I move away from him, and look Kyle in the eye. "I want you to, all of you," I shrug sadly. "I don't want him to feel alone." Kyle looks surprised, but also not. "Okay." I can't say anything more about it, cause I'm pretty sure my voice wouldn't let me without cracking and eventually dissolving into tears, but I do nod. Maybe it's some of the loss and confusion inside me showing on my face that makes Kyle ask, "Are you really sure you're, um... better?" I sigh. "Being without Celery is beyond the pale." "What does that mean?" He asks hesitantly, voice hushed. "Nothing, or at least not what it might mean to anyone else. To me, it's hurting more than there could ever be words to express. I've just gotten tired of saying that to describe how I feel, even to myself. So I made something up." Kyle closes his eyes, like it hurts too much to look, and then takes my head in his hands, kisses my forehead. "You're beautiful." I smile the smile of the infinite sad. "So are you."