The Piano Knows Something I Don't Know

How does time work?

How does time work?

The afternoon before Brendon's birthday, I was sitting in my dorm room, carefully wrapping the turntable that I had bought for him in bright red wrapping paper. I had already finished my homework for the night, and I didn't have anything better to do than to daydream about Brendon. I already had plans to go to the Aubergine early the next day so that I could spend plenty of time with him on his birthday. I wasn't sure exactly what would happen the next day, but that was the nature of the future. It was a perpetual mystery, and I would have to wait one more day to see how Brendon and I would spend his special day.

All of a sudden, Patrick opened the door. "Hey Ryan," he said. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just wrapping Brendon's present," I said as I stuck a bow on top of the gift.

"Is this the record player that you were telling me about last week?" Patrick asked. I nodded, and he asked, "Do you think that he'll like it?"

"I think so," I said. "I just worry about him sometimes."

"Why is that?" Patrick asked.

Should I tell him the truth? Patrick might freak out, but he was one of the few people that I truly trusted. As far as I knew, Patrick had never lied or gossiped, so if I had to tell someone about Brendon's alcoholism, Patrick was the best choice. Besides, as I had learned from experience, telling the truth was always a better option than lying. The truth could hurt, but lies would inevitably hurt more when the person who was lied to found out the truth.

I sighed and explained, "Brendon's an alcoholic. I knew that he drank a lot, but I had no idea just how bad it was until recently." It was painful to say those words, but it was nice to tell someone else about my problems. I didn't have to carry this burden on my own anymore.

Patrick's eyes widened and he said, "That's not possible. I've only seen him drunk a few times, and I thought you told me that he went to Yale."

"First of all, he's built up quite a bit of tolerance," I said. "Brendon doesn't usually appear to be drunk, but he's still drinking way too much. Second, he doesn't go to Yale."

"Then why did you tell me that he did?" Patrick asked.

"He used to go to Yale," I said. "Brendon dropped out after freshman year."

"This is crazy, Ryan," Patrick said.

"I know," I said, my voice shaking. "I don't know what to do anymore. I want to help Brendon, but I don't know how." For once, I had an unanswerable question, and the helpless, lonely feeling that came with it sank into my brain.

"Pete might know what to do," Patrick said. "He and I are meeting up in the Pendragon Center in about an hour. Would you like to come with us?"

"Sure," I said. Anything that could help me find a solution seemed like a great idea to me.

"Great," Patrick said. "I'm going to go get some lunch. I'll see you then."

As I stuck a card on Brendon's gift, I wished that I could time travel. I wanted to go back in time and keep Brendon from ever taking a sip of alcohol, just to keep both of us out of this mess. Then again, if Brendon had never gone to the Aubergine, would he and I have ever met? Even if we had, would we have fallen in love? Brendon was undoubtedly one of the best things that had happened to me, and I had no desire to undo that.

After I finished wrapping the present, I got a head start on the Ancient Philosophy paper that wasn't due for another week and then went to the Pendragon Center. As I walked past the dining hall, I met up with Patrick, and the two of us entered the Pendragon Center together.