Lonely Boys

The glass doors slid open with a barely audible whir. The sun was setting, and it glared off the cars in the parking lot. I looked over at Tori, my brow furrowing and my cheeks stretched by a sad smile. I opened my mouth to say something, but couldn't find the right words. So I shut it again. She turned towards me, and I could finally see the fear in her eyes. Tori reached for my hand and grasped it tight. I gave it a squeeze. And then we turned back to the parking lot and started for my car.

We both got into my old pickup, and her hand found mine again once I was strapped in. I had never seen Tori this quiet, but I still knew exactly what she was thinking. I turned to face her.

"You can do this. I know you can."

She turned away.

"I hope so," was her only reply.

***

I hate hospitals. There aren't too many people who like hospitals, but I can barely stay in one for more than an hour. Everything about them creeps me out. The white sterility of the place. The constant flow of people. The stern-faced doctors and nurses. The people waiting in fear and pain. The extremes in emotion running through the halls, both the joy and relief, and the grief and sadness. Mostly, hospitals just bring up bad memories. My parents, side by side in hospital beds. My mom, her eyes closed, a tube down her throat, the only thing keeping her alive. My dad, staring blankly at the wall, wringing the drunken hands that put her there. The doctor's hand on my shoulder.

I wanted to be anywhere but here in this hospital, but Tori needed me. Every second in that room with her had my skin crawling. I told myself that I never wanted to step into another hospital again, but I can't seem to escape these white halls. I was itching to get out of that damned place, but I couldn't just leave Tori. She wouldn't have left me.

***

The sky was fairly clear, but the clouds found a way to cover the sun, matching our surroundings to the heavy melancholy already in our chests. The sun peeked through the clouds for a second, and I lifted my head and soaked in the sunshine as the casket was lowered into the ground. Tori's black silky dress fluttered against my pant leg in the breeze. I stretched my fingers out and found her hand. I gripped it tight. I didn't lower my face from the sky. I couldn't. As people started to disperse, giving my father and me handshakes and hugs, Tori took me aside for a moment. She pulled an envelope from her purse.

"Here," she said, offering it to me. "I know it's not a lot, but I thought it might help."

I opened the envelope. Inside was a certificate that read: The star located at the below coordinates is now designated as: HELEN.

"Now she's up there," said Tori, pointing up at the sky. "Always watching over you."

"It's perfect," I squeaked, blinking back tears. "Thanks Tori."

***

I couldn't leave Tori when she needed me most. And so we waited and waited for that door to open. When it finally did, and the doctor came in, I could tell from his face that I wasn't going to want to hear what he had to say.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but the tumor isn't benign as we thought. It looks like the only course of action we have is chemo-"

My ears started ringing, and everything else he said became white noise. All Tori did was sit in the bed and nod slowly.

***

I wasn't the most social kid before I met Tori. I was sitting in the grass by myself, waiting for recess to end, when Tori came up to me. She threw a ball at me.

"Come on, get up," she said. "We're playing now."

I was completely taken by surprise and let the ball bounce off of my chest.

"You were supposed to catch that, dummy."

"Me?" I asked.

She waved her hand around at the empty field. "Who else would I be talking to? Betty?"

"Who?"

"Betty. My imaginary friend," she groaned, insulted that I even had to ask. "Now, come on and get up. Recess is almost over."

And so I did. She was the first real friend I made. And really, the only one.

***

We drove, heading nowhere as the falling sun shone through the hills on the windy road. I just drove and drove, an endless stream of asphalt passing beneath us. I couldn't tell if it had been hours or minutes, but eventually Tori put her hand on mine as it gripped the gear shift, and I pulled to the side of the road. We got out and hopped onto the hood. Night had fallen by now, so there wasn't much else to do than to lie down and stare up into the stars.

"Why did you throw that ball at me?" I asked her, still staring up. "Back when we first met? What did you see?"

She sat up and looked down at me. After a moment, she looked away and untied the bandana from the arm of her jean jacket. Wrapping the bandana around her hand over and over again, she let out a sigh. She looked at the bandana and then out into the night sky. Slowly, she tied it around her head and lay back down.

"I saw a lonely kid. And I saw that I could do something about it."

I looked at her. Then we both turned back to the stars. The weight of her words pressed on my chest.

"Do you know anything other than Orion's Belt?" I asked trying to distract myself.

"I know one of the Dippers is around here somewhere," she responded, pointing off into the night.

"How do you spend so much time looking up at the stars and not know where anything is?"

"I don't know. I guess I don't really care about that stuff. Can't you just look at things to look at them?"

"I guess. But still."

"I just lose myself up there. It's got to be better out there than it is down here. At least I hope so."

It's got to be. For her sake. For mine. I don't want to be that lonely kid again.