Chapter Forty-Six – The Falling
"You know," August said as they walked back to his house after having dinner with Maddox's parents and a few of his siblings, "I had no idea you've kept so much from me. Your childhood was a hoot."
"Ah, well, some things I'd like to forget myself," Rusty replied. "The problem is Maddox's mom will never let me do that. She's like an encyclopedia of all the stupid stuff her kids have ever done in their lives. My honest suspicion is that she wants to use that against us whenever we get too cocky. Keeps us in check and all."
"She does treat you like you're one of her own." August nudged him in the shoulder gently. "You made me think back then that you only had it rough in your life."
Rusty laughed it off. "Maybe I wanted you, this badass older chick, to have pity on me."
"Yeah, totally a winning strategy. That makes me glad, though, because it means that you still grew up happy."
That was true. Even with all the misery seeping into every corner of the house he was living in with his mom, he had had his fair share of happiness, and it was due to the Kingsley family, especially the mom. And Maddox, of course. "Maybe that's the reason I'm not totally fucked up now." He'd meant it as a joke, but August wrapped her arm around his and squeezed it in sympathy.
"It's pretty late. Let's make sure that we don't wake your mom up."
"Yeah," he agreed. He hoped she was asleep already so that he would be spared another unjust conversation that would only allow her to make him into the bad guy again.
The house was quiet, which was a good sign, but Rusty had learned that believing in good signs was not that much of a strategy when it came to his mom. For all he knew, she could be waiting in the darkness, to show him how miserable she was while he was out, having fun. They had been drifting apart, year after year, ever since high school started, and Rusty had begun to feel stronger, with the help of his friends, someone who didn't need his mom to put food on the table or get him nice things or have a good word for him. At least, the part about things had been covered by Roy. Whenever he came to visit, he'd make sure that Rusty got an entire new closet full of clothes, a phone, the latest gimmick, or some shiny new toy. At the time, Rusty had accepted everything with increasing anger, hoping that his dad would notice that he couldn't buy his son's approval just by getting him stuff. After all, those visits were few and far between.
His dad had also given him his college tuition. The way he'd done it, like Rusty had to make something out of it, not just receive it, had once more filled him with resentment. But all his friends were going, and he wanted to go, too, as a deep fear of being left behind had started to grow inside him. For that, at least, he had Roy to thank.
They walked in and made their way through the dark house without turning on the lights, August holding on to his arm and following him up the stairs. Once they got there, he opened the door to the guestroom only to find it, to his horror, turned into a storage room full of old crates and packages that had to date back to the previous century.
"Oh," August said. "She must have thought we were going to sleep in the same bed."
"Yeah," Rusty admitted. "No problem. I'll give you my bedroom, and I'll take the sofa downstairs."
"I could sleep on the sofa," August offered. "I'm smaller."
Rusty pursed his lips. He hadn't told his mom anything about him and August being together, but it looked like she just assumed that. As caught up as he had been in what a drag this visit was, he hadn't taken a moment to realize that she would think they were a couple. If Matty had been with him instead of August, such a thing wouldn't have bothered him at all. Although his mom, on many occasions, had blamed him for his womanizing, never forgetting to add that he must be taking after his dad. That was untrue. Roy might have started his relationship with his new wife when things were shaky but not yet destroyed at home – this home – but Rusty didn't believe he was the kind to chase skirts. His dad was way too sour and rigid to pursue anything remotely adventurous in his life. That had been all himself, his own thing, regardless of what his mom had to say about it.
"No, you're my guest, even if my mom didn't stop to think that we might need the guestroom. And trust me, I've landed on that sofa many a time," he joked. "You know, when I was too wrecked to walk up the stairs."
"Okay, since it's an old friend of yours, I won't come between the two of you," August joked as she pulled him out of the dusty room.
Rusty nodded and took another look around. His mom and this habit of amassing piles of useless things were starting to worry him. But how was he going to begin a proper conversation with her, when everything he said was bound to strike a nerve?
***
He couldn't sleep, not because he had outgrown that sofa without even realizing it, but because his head was full of thoughts. One thing he had to do was to see about that doctor his mom was seeing now. Without having one iota of an idea about what the doctor could share with him, he was responsible for her and needed to make sure that she got the help she needed. In the past, all his offers of playing an active part in her treatment had been met with hostility. His mom had made sure he understood he was in no position to do anything. Useless. Just like his dad. But things like turning parts of the house into a huge storage unit and destroying the backyard had to be symptoms of something more than the usual. These things worried him more than a little.
The creak of the stairs made him turn his head. His mom was there, peering down at him.
"Can't sleep, mom?" he asked.
"What are you doing on the sofa? Where's August?" she began without answering his question.
"She's sleeping in my bedroom. What's with you being up so late?"
"Did you two have a fight?" His mom's voice became increasingly louder.
"No, why would you even think that?" Rusty got up and turned on the light. The fight, that horrible conversation, was coming whether he liked it or not. "We're not together."
His mom took one step after another, so deliberately that Rusty couldn't help notice. "You should go back to bed," he said, trying to sound as placating as possible.
"You don't get to tell me what to do. And those damn pills, they don't help me sleep at all."
He moved slowly, ready to steady her in case she lost her balance, but without making her feel wary of his actions. If there was one thing that got on his mom's nerves, it had to be the help others were offering her. She was so ready to suspect them of wanting something in return. As if she had anything to give, he thought as a dark snake coiled in his gut.
He let out a small sigh of relief once she was on level ground. "Do you want me to talk to your doctor, see if there's something she can do to make you feel better?"
The small grunt coming from his mom convinced him that he was barking up the wrong tree. Nonetheless, he didn't want to give up. When his dad upped and left, he had remained the one in charge. No matter how reluctant he had been to realize that he was responsible for his mom, it was his duty to look after her. Especially now that she was starting to seem so out of it.
"Don't you think I've talked to her already?" His mom crossed her arms and began walking slowly around the room. She was unhappy, and someone had to pay for it. "I'm not a child, you know?"
"I know," Rusty said in defeat and dropped back down on the sofa. If he hadn't been able to sleep so far, his mom would surely wear him down enough to make him regret the lost hours of shuteye. "What's up? What's happening? Why is there so much junk everywhere?"
"Oh, he cares now." His mom shook her head and looked out the window, although there was nothing that could be seen out there.
"Don't say things like that," Rusty reproached her. "Whatever it is, just tell me about it. I want to help you."
"You could help by not being like your dad."
Right. The shitstorm was coming. "And what do you mean by that?"
His mom turned on her heel to shoot an accusing look at him. "What's with this girl? Why do you say you and she aren't together? Don't you see you're hurting her?"
"August is not my girlfriend, mom. She's just a friend."
"Ha! Only gay men have female friends. You don't fool me. You're just leading her on, the same way your dad did with me."
Rusty felt a muscle twitching in his jaw and tried to ignore it. He so didn't want to fight. And what was that weird thing she'd said, about only gay guys having female friends? "Trust me, mom. August is just a friend," he repeated, hoping that his message would get through to her.
"You slept with her," his mom continued.
"Yeah, I did, but it was a long time ago," Rusty said, feeling a new type of tiredness seeping into his bones. "Now we're friends." He got up again. A weird annoying energy was making all his muscles tremble. He needed to get it out somehow.
"You will never settle down. You will probably find some woman willing to put up with your philandering, but that isn't settling down."
"If this is, again, about you and dad, I really don't want to hear it. Go back to sleep, mom. If you don't need my help, if you're so sure of that, I guess there's nothing left for me to tell you. Or do for you."
His mom's laughter was humorless and dark. It sent a shiver down his spine, and he tried to chase it off. "You give up so easily. You are your father's son."
"Yeah, I am. Unless you were the one who had an affair and had me with someone else, he's my dad, and I'm his son." He meant it only as a way of pointing out the obvious and showing her that he wasn't going to take offense over something like that.
However, it seemed like the wrong thing to have said. "You won't speak to me like that under my own roof!"
"Mom, really, stop shouting. You're going to wake August up."
"So what? She should wake up and see you for who you really are so she won't make the same mistakes as I did. Believing a man, his sweet words, sacrificing my whole life for him--"
"Oh, mom, just spare me already."
They were both taken by surprise at his outburst. His mom, because she had never heard him talk back so openly, not on the topic of his dad – that was the topic that no one in that house touched, save for her. And he was surprised as well, because he hadn't realized that the cup was full.
"How dare you?" his mom hissed at him. "He left you here. He left me alone to take care of you, and this is your gratitude?"
Rusty closed his eyes for a moment. He needed to stop this, he needed to make it so that it didn't get out of hand.
"It must be his doing. What does he tell you? That I was to blame, right?"
"No." If he only used one-word replies, he could still save the situation.
"I know he does. You're siding with him," she said, her voice more sour by the moment. "Men," she spat as if that word was poison.
That was it. He was done with her complaining and accusing. "Stop comparing me to him," Rusty said through his teeth. "I stayed here when he left."
She got herself in his face. Her eyes were wild. She seemed so small and frail now, a shadow of the woman she used to be. "You stayed only for as long as you didn't have a choice. Even as a child, you ran to your friend's house. Ready to act like a good kid in front of strangers. Always a woman better than me outside the house."
"Are you out of your mind?" Rusty felt his throat squeezing itself tight. "The fact that Maddox's mom had a plate of food for me when you didn't care to--"
The slap broke the string of words rushing out of his mouth. It stung, but that wasn't the most hurtful thing about it. Rusty took one step back and then another. Hopefully, he could put as much distance as possible between them. "I have no idea why you wanted me here this weekend. Don't worry. You'll see a lot less of me from now on."
For a moment, the threat seemed to reach her. But she was too proud a woman to accept that she had gone too far. "Fine. What good are you to me, anyway?" She set her chin up and began walking up the stairs. She stopped mid-way. "You know what? Why don't you leave right now? Go already!"
"You want me to go? All right, fine, I'll go." He began dressing up with brusque movements. Then he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "Just make sure you don't make August feel bad tomorrow morning when she wakes up."
"Rusty!"
The voice was suddenly full of anguish. But he couldn't care. Everything, all she had for him, was hurt. And he didn't want to be part of it anymore.
He grabbed the door handle, ravenous to breathe air that wasn't here, in this house.
"Rusty, come back!"
He pulled the door wide open. And took a step out, not one more.
The thud and crash, along with a cry, made his blood freeze in his veins. He turned, his entire body rigid, unwilling to listen to him. His eyes grew wide, and his feet moved by themselves.
"What happened?"
August's urgent question reached him through the flood of blood in his ears. He ran to his mom, knelt by her side. "Mom, mom!" His voice seemed just as far away, coming from the water ceiling closing over his head.
"Oh, god, I'm calling 911!"
***
The ambulance lights were hard to see. He remained in the middle of the road, watching them fade. August reached for him, wrapped her hand around his gently. "Come, Rusty, let's go. I'm driving."
He just nodded and blinked. His chest was so tight he couldn't breathe.
"They say she's breathing even though she's still unconscious," August continued. "That's a good sign." She guided him slowly toward the car. "Maddox's mom is going to be there, too. But I think… you should call your dad."
He nodded again. Everything and everyone around him had moved in slow motion for the past… how long had it been? Half an hour? More? Less?
August had to put him in the seat and then climbed behind the wheel. "Rusty," she called, this time more firmly. "It wasn't your fault."
He closed his fists, pressing them against his knees and looked down.
"I heard the two of you fighting. I was even there for a bit. She was so mean--"
"Don't. August, don't."
"All right, I won't. But it was an accident. She took a wrong step. And there's also the matter of all the medication she's been taking."
"Just don't say another word, August."
The warmth of her hand covering his fist made his skin crawl. Not because of her or her good intentions, but because of him. And his lack of them.
***
"Have you called your dad?"
He couldn't brush off Maddox's mom like he could August. "Not yet."
They were sitting in the waiting area, he, August, and Florence. He refused the cup of coffee he had been offered. He was as wide awake as he could be. People in hospital scrubs came and went around them, but so far there had been no news.
"He needs to know," Florence pointed out in her usually gentle yet firm manner. "There may be extra costs involved, depending on her evaluation."
He nodded like an automaton. That was the one thing he could do, agree with what others kept telling him. "I'll call him in the morning," he said in a dry raspy voice. "No need to wake him up in the middle of the night."
Wasn't his mom his responsibility? Especially now that he had let his anger get the better of him and that had pushed her over the edge? August kept saying that it had been nothing but an accident, but was that the truth? That wrong step, that medication-fogged mind… he didn't dare think beyond them. The simplest thing he should have done… was not getting mad at her.
He had been pretty happy lately. He was singing. He had Matty. And, somewhere, in the middle of all of that, he had forgotten about her and how unhappy she was. For her sake, he shouldn't have behaved like that. Weren't they bound by the same misery? How could he forget about that so easily?
Florence touched his shoulder. "Don't you go and get mad at yourself, Rusty."
"That's an impossible thing to ask, Mrs. K," he mumbled. "We got into a fight. I should have just let her win. Because, if I had done that, now she'd be at home in bed." And not here, in the hospital, still unconscious while the doctors were trying to get her to wake up.
Florence sighed. "Your mom's not the easiest person to live with. You, of all people, should know that. And if you start blaming yourself for this, I'm going to be mad at you. I really mean it."
He knew she meant it. Of course, he did. But not even Florence's words could reach him in the place where he was now. Between wanting to curl into himself and squeezing until it hurt all over and letting go, preferably by breaking something, a door, a chair, a punch through a damn wall, he stayed like that, caught in between.
"How is she, doc?" August's voice let him know that someone in charge had walked in.
"I'm afraid that she's in a coma for the moment. We will keep her under supervision, so I advise that you go home and get some sleep. If there's any news, you'll be contacted."
Coma. The word opened a pit in his stomach. "How long is she going to be like this?" he asked but without looking up at the doctor.
"We cannot know. We will have to run tests and see how her brain was affected by the fall. She could wake up tomorrow. But I cannot tell you anything for sure. Not at the moment."
Rusty nodded, his ears ringing. She had been fine by herself, right? All this time, living alone, and when he visited after so much time had passed, this happened. Florence could tell him not to blame himself for as long as she wanted. He couldn't see himself getting out of this, not so easily.
"Come on," August said and took his hand. "You need to sleep a little, Rusty."
He followed her and Florence out of the hospital. He doubted he'd be able to close his eyes, let alone sleep.
***
Matty checked his phone again and sighed. He knew that Rusty would be back today from his visit to his mom, but it dumbfounded him that there was no message from him, not even a small playful one.
Well, he wasn't supposed to just sit around and wait for that to happen. No one said that he couldn't send a message if he wanted to get in touch. And Rusty could reply whenever he felt like it. Who knew? Maybe he needed a distraction.
Hey, what's up? I was wondering. Can I drop by tonight?
He checked the message a few times to make sure that he didn't sound too desperate. Was it casual enough? Butterflies began battling like crazy in his belly as he played in his mind how he would tell Rusty the truth. The whole of it. They had been dancing around each other long enough… if such feelings were mutual, Rusty should know by now, right? Also, there were all those little proofs of how much Rusty cared about him. He couldn't dismiss them, right?
He sent the message without looking at it again.
There was still plenty of time until the year ended, his deadline for confessing his true feelings. But he didn't want to waste any more time. A part of him kept telling himself that he'd end up just pushing Rusty away, but was that the realistic and most likely outcome? Matty knew himself to be a practical person, a realist – well, he was allowed to have a crush for so much time as the exception that confirmed the rule, right? – which meant that all his calculations were correct. Maybe Rusty would need a bit of time to process a confession from his baby dude, but he'd see it for what it was.
Right?
Ugh, he wanted to see clearly, to use his head like always, but was that even possible when he only thought of what it would feel like to have Rusty stare at him with eyes full of affection and say the words back?
He had it bad. He rubbed his eyes, ran his hands through his hair, pulled at it for good measure, and checked his phone. Unread. Well, it was still early in the day, and maybe Rusty didn't check his phone every five minutes like a maniac. Like him.
He needed to be patient. The choice was made, and he would say the words he meant. What followed after… he would just have to wait and see.
If only it weren't so nerve-wracking to wait.
***
Several hours later, his message was still unread. That wasn't like Rusty, right? Matty liked to think that he had known the rebellious king of Sunny Hill long enough to know a few things about his habits of reading his messages. It was too late for him to be still sleeping in. What could he be doing?
Ah, but of course, there had to be a good explanation for it. Rusty must have forgotten his phone in his room. That would explain everything. Matty wanted to face-palm himself. It was only because he was staging his confession in his mind that he was getting so uselessly riled up over the tiniest thing. And no one said that he had to confess today. He could do it on any other day… until the last day of senior year.
No, no, if he continued to postpone things like he had been, he would never get them done. Wasn't that the only remedy for procrastination or something like that? Get to work. Do the thing. Confess already.
Matty was walking through the quad, his eyes on the pavement in front of him, while he battled himself for acting like a rational human being.
"Hey, Matty," someone interrupted his train of thought, something he needed to be thankful for because he was spinning in circles so fast he was bound to get dizzy.
He raised his eyes to see Maddox and Jonathan. Their somber faces made his stomach drop. "Hi guys, um, why the long faces?" he asked and smiled tentatively, trying to push away any irrational thoughts.
"Have you talked to Rusty yet?" Maddox asked, his face all a deep frown. "He's not answering our calls."
"No. Why? I mean, I did send him a message… Wait, maybe he just left his phone in his room. Have you checked?" He smiled, trying to evade the unpleasant sensation growing in his chest.
Maddox threw him an odd look. Jonathan intervened. "Matty doesn't know, obviously."
"What?" Damn you, heart, slow down. "What don't I know?"
Jonathan was the one to reply. "Rusty's mom had an accident last night. Maddox's mom called this morning to tell us, but we haven't heard from Rusty yet. And his phone isn't in his room. He has it with him. We thought that maybe he had talked to you, since you're the closest to him."
The closest to him. Such words would have sounded so good under other circumstances. "An accident? What kind of accident?"
Maddox ran a hand over his face. "She fell down the stairs. My mom says that she's in a coma now."
"That's awful." Matty pressed a hand against his chest. He hated the feeling of relief that washed through him. Rusty was all right. He just wasn't answering his phone. "But if the accident took place last night, that means Rusty couldn't have gotten very much sleep. He's probably resting right now."
Jonathan offered him a kind smile. "You could be right, of course."
Maddox, however, didn't seem convinced. "I'm going to talk to my mom again, see if she went by his place."
Matty waited while Maddox placed the call.
"Hi, mom. Have you gone by Rusty's today? You have. All right. Well, he's not answering his phone, although we've all tried. What? Try her? But I don't have her number. Yeah, pass it on."
Her. Probably a female relative living in the same… house? He shook his head, to avoid letting it be assaulted by strange thoughts.
Maddox finished his conversation with his mom. "She says to try August, because she's with him."
"What?" Matty hated the way the word came out of his mouth. He hated it but he couldn't take it back now.
"August is with Rusty?" Jonathan expressed his surprise in a more articulate manner.
Maddox shrugged. "She must have tagged along. Which is a good thing, I guess, since that means Rusty's not by himself."
He wasn't by himself. He was with August, whom he had preferred to take with him on his trip back home. Matty shook his head to stop the swarm of nasty thoughts. Now wasn't the time to get stupidly jealous. Rusty had to be an emotional mess because of his mom's accident, and he was acting like a selfish idiot.
"Let's try her," Maddox said and put his phone to his ear.
Matty waited, although he couldn't help feeling like an intruder now, an outsider who just happened to be around while an unfortunate family event happened to someone he knew.
"Hey, August, it's Maddox. My mom gave me your number, I hope that's okay. What's going on with Rusty? We've all been trying to call him since we heard." Maddox's frown only deepened. "Yeah, he can be as stubborn as a mule. You're not telling me anything new, trust me." He sighed. "Yeah, okay. So you guys are coming back tonight? Or is he going to stay there for a while? Ah, okay. No, of course there's no issue. Bye and thanks for everything. Yeah, I know. We're counting on you then."
"Well?" Jonathan asked.
Maddox closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. "What can I tell you? He's a mess, of course. August has yet to convince him to have something to eat."
"When are they coming back?" Good thing Jonathan was there to ask all the questions lodged in Matty's throat.
"The day after tomorrow. My mom is going to take care of him, along with August. You know, the only thing he opened his mouth for was to make August ask me if it's okay to get the car back after a couple of more days. Sometimes, I can't believe that guy." Maddox shook his head, and he looked so sad that Matty wished he knew what to do to comfort him.
Again, Jonathan was there to do all the right things. He took his boyfriend by the shoulders. "He's Rusty. He's stubborn. But he's going to come back, and we're going to convince the hell out of him that he's not alone in this."
"Right, of course. Matty, would you like to have August's number?" Maddox asked. "Maybe through combining your powers you can get Rusty to talk."
He shook his head. "No, I guess he wants to be left alone at the moment. But can I ask you something? Could you let me know when he's back? I'd rather comfort him in person than over the phone."
"Of course," Maddox assured him with a friendly smile. "It's too bad that he's there and we're here. There's little we can do right now. But we're going to assemble the forces once he's back." He put a warm hand on Matty's shoulder. "You'll hear from us the moment he steps foot in the house. He'll want to see you, for sure."
Matty nodded. He would have liked to believe those words, but that worm moving in and out of his heart like it was going through a rotten apple had other things in mind.
TBC