Catch Me (Synacky)

Chapter Seventeen: Brian

Playing the guitar had been like visiting heaven. It had been so long since my fingers had graced over the strings. Zacky played an old style of jazz that my dad was into, so I knew just how to follow along with him. And I wanted to kiss him so fucking bad.

But Dr. Brooks was there, so I didn’t. Zacky went around and collected his things, and then we got in the car and drove to the cemetery, listening to some classical shit, at Zacky’s request.

“I don’t want to listen to happy music.” He said, even though I wouldn’t call hard metal ‘happy.’ He seemed sorta somber.

We arrived at Sunset Hill Cemetery and, with Zacky’s feet dragging through the grass, began to search the gravestones for his father’s name. James Baker.

We found it near the back. James Baker. 1955-1998. There was no little personal inscription, nothing to tell us about who he was. There were no flowers at the foot of the grave. Other than Zacky, it would seem as though Mr. Baker had no one left.

Dr. Brooks and I stood back a few feet to let Zacky have his space. Zacky stepped forward, fingers touching the cold granite of the gravestone gently. He took a deep breath, then another. He slowly knelt, covering his face with his hands.

I didn’t know he was crying until I could see the sobs physically shake his form, see the tears dripping from his chin to wet his shirt.

I wanted to go to him, but one look from Dr. Brooks had me holding back. “He needs to do this.” He whispered, “Don’t upset him.”

He had a point. Zacky needed to let out his feelings, and sometimes when I touched him or got close to him he got angry. But I wouldn’t touch him. I slowly approached him, kneeling at his side. We didn’t speak. He just cried, not one sound coming from him other than hitching breaths.

Slowly, he pulled his hands away, lifted his head to the sky, and let out a single, loud scream. Then he glanced at me and started, like he had forgotten I was there. We looked at each other for a moment, I drank in all the pain written across his features, then he threw his arms around me, one hand gripping my shirt, the other clutching tightly to his pet, and wept into my shoulder.

I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in the side of his neck. “Shh, Zee…” I whispered, fingers running through the hair on the back of his head. “It’s okay, Zacky, everything’s going to be okay.”

I didn’t know the man in the ground, and to be honest, I had started to grow a hate for him. After all, who in their right mind would be evil enough to leave their autistic child to fend for himself in the world?

But I could feel the waves of sadness radiating from Zacky, I could feel how much this man had meant to him. And I decided he must have not been so bad after all. Besides, I didn’t know what he had been going through.

Eventually, the shaking stopped. Zacky’s breathing became deep and even. His fingers uncurled from the tight fist he had made with my shirt, and slowly crept up to cup my cheek. He pulled away to look at me, and I tilted my face to kiss his palm. His eyes were red and puffy, and there were tears and snot on his face, and he looked absolutely awful, and I had never been so captivated by anyone in my entire life.

I stood and helped him to his feet. He kissed his hand, then pressed it to the cold granite. Then he wiped his face with his sleeve, and Dr. Brooks rushed back to us with tissues.

Zacky slept the entire way back. He must have been exhausted, after a cry like that. I looked out the window, watching the world flash by.

Dr. Brooks said, “Explain to me right now what is going on between you and Zacky.”

I opened my mouth to object, to deny, to say that nothing was going on, when he said, “You kissed his hand. And don’t think for one moment that I don’t notice the way you look at each other.”

I sighed heavily, looking at the ceiling of the car. This was it, now we were going to get separated and I’d probably get isolation and we’d hardly be able to see each other. Worst case scenario, one of us would get transferred and then we’d never be able to see each other again.

But how could I lie? It’s not like we were being inconspicuous, it was so obvious.

“I like Zacky.” I replied, defeat creeping into my voice, “He likes me.”

“Are you both in a romantic relationship?”

“I don’t know.” I replied. Because I had never really asked him out, and Zacky hadn’t either. And I didn’t really think of him as my boyfriend. I just thought of Zacky as someone that meant the world to me.  Lover, yes, boyfriend, no. But I didn’t know if he felt the same way.

Dr. Brooks was silent for a long time. I waited, trying to seem nonchalant, but inside my stomach was churning.

“I’ll tell you what, Brian.” Dr. Brooks finally sighed, “I will turn a blind eye to what you both have going on-“

“Oh, thank you so much!” I said, but Dr. Brooks cut me off.

“Only because I think this will be very beneficial for Zacky am I going to let you do this. He needs this close, positive attention you’re giving him. But if Mr. Todd finds out somehow, this whole thing is on you. I’m going to pretend like I don’t know what’s going on between you. And if you hurt Zacky in any way, I will not hesitate to have you reported, Brian. Have I made myself clear?”

“Crystal.” I replied. I was practically giddy inside. I’d still be able to have Zacky, still be able to kiss him and hold him close at night. He needed me and, quite frankly, I needed him too.

Then Jimmy took over and I let him, as long as I was co-con. He started talking to Dr. Brooks about crazy stuff that only really intelligent people talk about, and I tapered off into unconsciousness.