How gay- I mean how may I help you?

August

Lucas 

"His mom's boyfriend beat the shit out of him, what else would've happened?" Trick looks at me with a hesitant face. 

We were standing outside of Troy's mother's house, Trick holding a broken and beaten Troy up by the arm. I had gotten a call that Troy was beat badly and wouldn't go to the hospital. I get it, not enough money, but my heart was racing and I didn't know what to do. I could still see the TV in his house on and people walking around. 

There was blood all on his shirt, and all I could see was my dad's helpless face and how many punches it would take before his shirt was soaked in his blood.

"Bone! Get your head out of your ass and help me get him in your trunk." Trick said again.

I just kept staring at Troy. His breathing was ragged and his right eye was starting to swell.

"Now! Bone. What the fuck is your problem?"

I finally look at Trick, "Why the trunk? Why not the front seat?"

"He told me it hurts too much to sit up, and I'm sure as hell your mom won't be happy if she sees all this blood stained into your seats.

I shut up and go to open the bed of my truck. 

Trick struggles to walk Troy over so I go to help. Troy is heavy, like bag of bricks heavy.

We lurch our way to the back of the truck and hoist him up roughly. Troy groans but we still have to push him all the way in. I lift myself up into the truck and pull him the rest of the way in. Already I can see that he definitely can't see through his right eye anymore. 

"Holy shit," I comment. 

"Bro, let's get the fuck out of here."

"Where are we going to go?" I say.

"We'll go to my house, my dad's at the hospital." Trick says gaily. 

He starts to walk to his car but I stop him, "Wait, Trick. I didn't know it was that bad," I don't know what else to say. If I try to say 'I'm sorry' it's like saying his dad is already dead.

"It's whatever, we have Troy and we can actually do something about it. Let's just go."

He slides into his car and starts it. Automatically I hear Flyleaf playing already, I'm So Sick playing in my ears as he flies past my truck.

~

When we finally get to Trick's house and get Troy up stairs on a towel, I realize that Trick is really good at things like this. He knows how to take control and be calm. I think back to how he invited everyone from school to Stk's party and how I thought he was so generous. 

He cares about everyone. 

I try to brush away the thought of Trick setting Jasper off though. I guess he's just being overprotective with all the Stk stuff and his dad's tumor going on. He doesn't want to lose me.

"How do you do this," I ask, holding Troy's head still while Trick pours peroxide on a cotton ball to apply to Troy's split cheek and lip. I try to wipe the blood off with a wet rag but Trick slaps my hand away like a mother chastising a child.

"I don't know. I don't really think about it, I just do. I mean, somebody has to, right?" He doesn't look at me as I say this, but I still feel guilty about all the times I didn't  do something.

I let him fix Troy up without another word until he's done. 

"You're not a bystander," I tell him factually, "There's no way, at least not for the people you care about. You're not going to let us go through pain without yourself there to help us up."