I sat in that room for a long time after Trace walked out on me. I sat on the couch, and just thought… I thought about a lot of things. The kidnapping, Shane…Nathan. I thought about how much it was affecting my life, and my family and friends. I tried to reason with myself. I tried to make myself believe that right thing to do…that the only thing to do, was to go and tell my three friends that I did indeed have a problem. A much bigger problem than any of them could imagine. I paced back and forth across the room frantically…biting my nails and talking to myself. At one point I was crying hysterically. I wanted to tell them…I wanted to do it so badly. But every time I started toward the door, Shane would be there blocking my path. He would remind me how much of a freak I was, and how I would look in the eyes of my friends and my girlfriend if I went out there and confessed. And I fucking agreed with him. I didn’t want to…but I knew it was the only way to make him go away.

Then I went into the bathroom and did…what I do. I guess I zoned out for a while, because one moment I was cutting like I always do, and the next moment I had this huge cut on my leg. The blood…I mean it was everywhere, and I started to panic, because I didn’t know if I could get the bleeding to stop on my own. I was afraid that I would have to go and get Trace or Cam, and show them what I was doing to myself. That was the last thing I wanted, and I was determined to handle the situation myself. I thought back to boy scouts. Our scout leaders always taught us that if you apply pressure to a cut, you can make the bleeding subside, no matter how deep the cut is. I put that knowledge to work, and tied a towel around my thigh. It took a little longer than I would have liked, but eventually, the bleeding stopped. I haven’t cut myself since that day, but the cut I gave myself is a constant reminder of the pain I’m in. It’s taking awhile to heal, and I’m constantly putting a clean bandage over it. I probably could have gone to the doctor and had them check it out, but of course I didn’t. Then somebody would know…and I can’t have that happen.

The water is really nice today. I’ve been trying hard to kick back and have a good time ever since Trace and I had our talk. It’s kinda working I guess. I mean yesterday I spent the whole day laying on the beach with Cam, under that little covered cabana thing. It was cool. It was very peaceful…and I actually let Cam get closer to me than I normally do. We were laying there, and her arms were wrapped around me. She didn’t try to come onto me or try to touch my stuff…because she knows better. I was thankful for that, and I found myself being able to relax for the first time since our little vacation started. It was still really hot though. The temperature reached almost ninety seven degrees, and I wouldn’t take my shirt off. I know it was stupid of me…I mean, nobody was around me but my best friends and my girl, but I still wasn’t comfortable with the idea of exposing my body. It’s going to take a long time for me to be comfortable with that sort of stuff again…probably too much time.

Yeah, the water is really nice today, but I’m not enjoying it as much as I did yesterday. But I’ve been in the water a lot more today than yesterday. The saltwater is starting to irritate the cuts on my legs, despite the expensive body suit I’m wearing. The leg with the really bad cut feels like its on fire, and it’s pissing me off because I know I can’t just roll up one of the legs on my suit and try to make the feeling go away. No way…not in front of them.

“Would you snap out of it,” Trace snickers and splashes some water my way. It glides up over my bad leg, and I wince in pain. It burns.

“Fuck,” I can’t help but unleash the obscenity from my mouth, and I clutch my bad thigh. I close my eyes and bite my lip. Dammit, it‘s really starting to fucking hurt..

“What’s the matter?”

I open my eyes again. Trace’s expression is full of concern. Stay calm, Justin. Tell him it’s a bug bite. “It’s nothing,” I manage. “I just got this nasty bug bite on my leg, and the water is getting to it.”

“Shit,” he sighs. “I hate those.”

I nod, but don’t meet his gaze. He bought it…right?

“Elisha has this stuff,” he suggests. “It’s this after bite cream…that’s waterproof. She put it on this bug bite I got the other day.” He holds up his arm and points to a small red mark on his arm. “It’s fuckin awesome stuff. Come on, we’ll get some.”

“I’m fine.” My eyes widen and I shake my head, probably more roughly that I should. “It’s too hot to get out of the water right now.”

He laughs at me. “Our rooms are air conditioned, Justin.”

I let out a pathetic, “So,” knowing that I really don’t have another excuse as to why I don’t want to go get the cream with him.

“You want to suffer all day?,” he smiles, and begins to wade toward the shore.

Of course I don’t, and I know I need to agree with him before he calls me crazy and leaves me by myself again. “I’m coming,” I tell him, and begin to follow him toward the shore. As we draw closer, I can spot Elisha and Cam lying in the sand…topless. I wish to god that this was the past. If this were the past, I would run up the beach, grab Cam and take her inside with me. Right now, my heart is telling me how badly I want to be with her…but my mind is screaming at me, telling me that I can’t let her get too close. I draw in a deep breath, and barely smile at Cam as Trace and I make our way past them. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Damn, J. We’re two lucky bastards to have those girls lyin on the beach like that,” he tells me. “I can’t wait ‘til tonight. I made reservations at that fancy place that Elisha pointed out on the car ride here. She’s so excited…like, I haven’t seen her so jumpy about dinner since we first started going out.”

I try to smile. I’m happy that he’s enjoying our time here. If we were all miserable, this whole vacation would be a waste. “That should be fun,” I say lightly. “You gonna go somewhere after?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I don’t really know what’s around here. I was gonna ask the guy at the service counter if he knows any good lookout points. Elisha was saying how she wants to go watch the stars or some shit,” he tells me Then he winks and says; “And you know what that means.”

I know what it means. I wish like hell I could be planning a night like he’s planning. With Trace and Elisha gone, it means Cam and I will have this whole place to ourselves…the beach…the condo…everything. It’s been such a nice day too…I’m sure the evening is going to be awesome. It will be warm…not chilly, and I’m sure all the stars will be out. I should have that chef guy come and cook us a romantic dinner…I bet Cam would like that…

I bet she would like to have sex with me after too.

We reach the condo, and Trace starts to dig through Elisha’s purse once we get inside. It’s one of those big mesh beach bags, and it looks like it has way too much stuff in it. I see him scowl and curse while he searches, complaining that Elisha has too much shit, and that he doesn’t know how he’s going to put up with it once they are married and settled into their house. I smile a bit. It’s weird to think of Trace as a married man. He won’t be the same. He’ll stop partying hard on the weekends. He’ll start spending more time at home, with her, and they’ll start having a lot more sex, if that’s even possible. In about a year, she’ll pop out their first kid…yeah, then he’ll never be around. I wonder if he’ll even have time to spend worrying about me.

It scares me that I might not rank so high on his priority list in a years time.

“Here it is.” Trace smiles triumphantly as he pulls a small tube out of Elisha’s ‘purse’. He drops the bag and its contents to the floor, not seeming to care when half its contents spill out onto the carpet. He swaggers over to me and unscrews the cap. “Let me see the bite,” he says.

I feel my body stiffen and I fold my arms protectively across my chest. “Nah, it’s nasty,” I manage to say in a laid back tone. “I’ll go in the bathroom and do it.”

Trace rolls his eyes. “Oh come on…stop being such a pussy. I showed you mine.”

He takes another step closer to me, and I take a step back. “No…just give me the cream. I’ll let you see it after, when it’s not all gross.”

He laughs, but gives in and hands me the tube. “Man, you’re so…weird. I mean, it’s just a bug bite. It’s not like I’m going to molest you.” He bats his eye lashes and makes a faggy swishing motion with his hand. “You’re not my type.”

I don’t laugh. I don’t smile. I don’t blink. I barely breathe. All I can do is stand here and stare at him and wonder: Does Trace know something? Can he see it on my face? On my body? Does he think I’m gay? I open my mouth and almost allow the questions to slip out, but then I catch myself. Stupid, pay attention. “I’ll be out in a minute,” I tell him quickly. I turn on my heel and walk briskly into the bathroom, making sure to close and lock the door behind me. I press my back against the door and let out a long sigh, before sliding myself down to the floor. I place the tube of cream beside me on the floor, and then roll up the legs of my body suit. I grimace when my cut is exposed. It’s all red, and irritated. There is sand inside the gash, and I’m sure it’s a big part of the reason my it hurts so bad right now. I make myself stand up, leaning hard on my good leg as I do so. I take a towel and wet it with some cold water, before applying it to the cut. I let out a soft yelp as the towel makes contact with my wound, but I don’t allow myself to become louder. I know Trace is still standing out there, waiting for me. I won’t let him find out…

I manage to get most of the sand out of my cut, before I apply the peroxide and the fresh bandage. I hate putting peroxide on it. It’s the worst part. I have to close my eyes and hold my breath to keep from crying out in pain. Then I put the bandage on, and I let out a relieved sigh. I think I’ll be okay now. I bend down and pick up the tube from the floor, making sure to squirt some cream out of it so Trace will think it’s been used when I give it back to him. I run the faucet and quickly splash some cold water on my face, hoping it will make me feel relaxed and renewed before I go out to face the world again…

“How much longer do you think you can lie to your friends?”

I gasp and lift my head out of the sink. I see Shane in the mirror, and I whimper a little. Damn, why now? This day was going fine…I didn’t think he was going to show up and spoil it. “Not now,” I whisper. “Please.”

“It’s inevitable you know,” he informs me. I see him stand behind me and then…his hands are on my shoulders, rubbing them gently. “Eventually, they’re going to find out what happened between us. Eventually…they’re all going to find out what you really are.” He bows his head and I see him start to kiss my neck. I can’t feel it though, and I realize that it must not be real.

I push him away from me angrily, and turn around to face him. He’s not there though. I’m alone. It was just an illusion…it had to have been. I shake my head roughly and rub my hands over my face. “Please stop,” I say softly. “You got what you wanted from me…now just…just let me handle it in my own way.”

I hear a tapping at the door, and I know it’s Trace. I look in the mirror quickly and realize that I’ve been crying. I take the towel and rub my face with it, trying to get the tear stains off of my face. It doesn’t help…it’s still obvious that I’m upset. What now? What do I do? I can’t stay locked in the bathroom…I need to go back out there.

“Justin…what are you doin? Are you takin a dump?” Trace cackles from outside the door.

I don’t respond. I simply roll the legs of my body suit down again, and push my way out the door and back into reality. Trace has a magazine in his hand. He says it’s Cosmopolitan and that he’s going to read the sex section because Elisha says it’s the only reason why Cosmo is worth buying. I smile and nod, even though I don’t care. My cut is still a little sore, and what just happened with Shane has worn me out a little. I really don’t feel like going back outside, but I know I have to. If I don’t, I’m only going to end up pissing everybody off…and I don’t feel like ruining the day. So I’ll just go and sit on the beach and talk to them and act like I’m perfectly fine. Hell, I might even lay down with Cam. I think I could use her reassurance right now, even though I won’t let her get too close.

**************

Cameron cooked. It was weird, because I didn’t even know she knew how. It turns out, she had taken the time to plan out the entire evening for us as soon as Elisha told her that she and Trace were leaving the resort for the night. I’m really impressed. I mean, the girl went all out. She had all this special gourmet food delivered, like Hawaiian fish, and vegetables and shit. It was all stuff I’d never heard of or tried before. She didn’t want me to help her either. I think she enjoyed making the night special in her own way, because lord knows…I’ve done a lot of special shit for her in the past. It was fun watching her cook. I could tell she was getting a lot of enjoyment out of it. It felt good to see her smile…to see that light in her eyes again. The food was amazing too. Like…I never knew she could cook like that. I told her once we get home I’m going to stop getting take out so she can cook for us more.

Then she laughed, and told me that she would cook for me for the rest of her life if it meant that I would be happy all the time. Then her smile sort of faded, and I didn’t say anything because…well, what could I say? I know I’m miserable all the time, and it can’t be helped…

I think she’s trying to get me to open up tonight. That’s something that I’m not prepared to deal with. I hope she doesn’t try to push me anymore. I don’t want to argue with her. I just want to have a nice relaxing evening, watching a movie or playing monopoly or something. Can’t it just be that simple?

“You know,” she speaks up, while turning the volume on the TV down a bit. “Elisha said she and Trace might check into one of those little bed and breakfasts we saw on the way up here.” She meets my gaze and smiles softly. “And if that happens, I wouldn’t think they would be back until tomorrow afternoon.”

I swallow back the panic that starts to rise in my throat. “Yeah,” I say. I reach over and take the remote from her. I start to channel surf quickly, hoping to find a good movie that will take Cameron’s mind off of…trying to seduce me. Sex…I feel chills start to run up and down my spine. I can’t do it with her…I can’t.

“Baby,” she coos, and I feel her hand running through my hair a moment later. “We’re all alone.”

I drop the remote, and I feel my body start to quiver. I look over at her, and see that look in her eyes. That sexy playful look I used to love…the look I used to miss like crazy when I was apart from her. She wants me so bad right now. She wants to kiss me and show me how much she loves me, and cares for me. I guess I should feel good about this. I mean, the fact that Cameron still wants me as much as she did before the kidnapping, is telling me that she is in this for the long run. She doesn’t want what we have to fall apart, and she misses being intimate with me. Hell, maybe I can do this. Maybe I can forget about Shane…just for tonight, and let Cameron have her fun. I should try…I should.

I feel myself smile, and force myself to kiss her on the mouth before my conscience can stop me. She wraps her arms around me and kisses me with equal passion. She’s hungry for this. She needs this, and I need to give it to her. I feel my shirt being pulled up over my body, and then over my head. I’ve been exposed, and I know I’m uncomfortable, but yet…I don’t stop her. I let her push me down on the sofa, and then she gets on top of me…

And then…that’s when I see him.

I don’t know where Cameron is now. She’s gone, she’s suddenly been replaced by him. His expression is heated, hungry…like an animal who has just gotten hold of it’s prey. I realize what’s happening to me all too soon, and I try to struggle and get away, but he pulls out his gun and presses it to the middle of my forehead. I try to scream, but no sound will come out.

“Behave,” Shane smiles. “Behave and everything will be okay.”

“No,” I whine. I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my lip. I feel him turn me over onto my stomach. God no…not again.

“Stop it!” I scream. “Don’t’ do it!! Please don’t’ do it!” But I never feel my pants coming off, and I never feel that horrible sensation that I felt that day. Actually, I don’t feel anything at all right now. I don’t feel his body weight on top of me anymore, and I find that I’m able to turn back over. Cameron is on the floor, staring up at me like I’m some kind of freak. Her shirt is half unbuttoned and her hair is a frightful mess. I gasp. My cuts…

I look down and I am never more thankful when I see that the only thing that has been exposed is my chest and stomach. My pants are still on, concealing the horrible secret that lies below the surface. But my relief is short lived. Cameron…she’s crying. She doesn’t know what happened. Hell, I don’t’ even know what just happened. I think I blacked out or something. “Cam.”

She slowly staggers to her feet, and I do the same. I try to make my way over to her, but she backs away. “Cameron?”

“What the hell is the matter with you?” she sobs. “Why can’t you let me do things with you Justin? Why are you afraid of me?”

“I…I wish I knew.” It’s the only thing I can think of to say, and it’s a total line of crock. I know exactly what’s wrong…Shane and I had sex and I can’t get past it. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you some kind of freak?” she snaps at me. “I mean, god…it’s like you turned gay on me or something!”

Her words hit me hard, penetrating my already weakened surface, and burrow their way inside my shattered soul. She figured it out…she figured it out just like Shane said she would. I can’t even look at her now. I’m shaking, crying…I don’t know what to do. I think I hear myself cry out for her, but I can’t be sure. It doesn’t matter though. She’s not moving…she’s not making any attempt to comfort me. She’s enraged…that I would push her away like this.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she sobs. “I can’t just…stand by and watch you dwindle away like this. You don’t talk to me…you don’t let me in, Justin. I want to help you…I really do, but you’re not letting me…you’re not letting anyone. And…” She runs a hand through her hair, and sniffles loudly. “And I’m done okay? I’m done with you.”

I start to tremble. I think about what it will be like with Cameron out of my life. I’ll be in that big house all by myself. I’ll sleep alone. When I wake up crying from one of my nightmares, she won’t be there to lull me back to sleep. I’ll have to handle all of the pressure…all of the pain completely by myself. God, what if I start to drink a lot, or start to do drugs? “Baby,” I whimper, reaching out for her. “Baby…baby please don’t leave me alone. I can’t make it alone.”

She backs away from me even more, and shakes her head. “You’ve been handling this on your own since you came home, Justin. Me being in the bed with you has just been a bonus. I can’t just be a bonus anymore. I love you too much, J.”

She loves me. I feel the anger begin to boil inside of me. She loves me but she’s about to walk out on me. How is that fucking love? “You don’t’ love me,” I bark. “You never fucking loved me.”

She shakes her head sadly. “That’s not true, and you know it. It‘s just…you‘re not the same guy you were before. You‘re so insecure, and so closed. You never talk to me, Justin. We always used to be able to tell each other everything. I can‘t just…be in this relationship and be left to wonder…” her speech cuts off, and she stares at me for a moment, like she knows something but she doesn’t want to tell me what it is.

I clench my fists and suck in a breath. “To wonder what?” I whisper.

“She knows.”

My eyes widen, and I see Shane standing next to Cameron. He has that sick little smile on his face, like he knows everything, and I’m just a moron who is wandering along blindly in this huge ocean of fucked up memories.

“I told you she’d figure it out,” he laughs.

“No!” I yell at him, not even caring that Cameron is seeing all of this. Hell, she already thinks I’m crazy, what’s one more incident? “She doesn’t know shit!” I walk over to him, and grab him by the scruff of his shirt. I cringe when my hand makes contact with him. It’s so weird…this can’t be real.

“You tough now Justin?” he says menacingly.

Then I hit him, and it feels so real that I have to let him go and shove him to the floor. I hear a scream, but it sounds too feminine to have come from Shane. I rub my hands over my face, and prepare myself to face him again. But when I look…Shane isn’t there anymore. In fact, I don’t’ think he was ever there. The only one on the floor is Cam. She’s clutching her face, and sobbing uncontrollably. My mouth gapes, and I back up a little. Oh my god. What did I do?

“Cameron,” I say, hardly above a whisper. I crouch down, and try to do something…anything. I reach out and try to move her hand away from her face so I can see the damage I’ve done. But she won’t allow me to get near her.

“Don’t touch me!” she screams. She quickly gets up from the floor, and pushes me away from her. I let her. She can do whatever she wants to me now. I deserve it…I deserve everything. I just…I just fucking hit my girlfriend. “Get out Justin!”

I try to do what she’s asking, but I find that I can’t move from my position. I’m scared, I’m shaking, crying…I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’ve turned into this big ugly monster. One that needs to be ‘taken care of’. Dammit, I should have let Shane kill me when he had the chance. At least then Cameron wouldn’t have to go through something like this. “Cameron.” It’s the only thing I can think of to say and I don’t even know why. It’s not like she’s going to console me and tell me that it’s okay that I hit her. No way…she’s freaked out. She’s…she’s afraid of me.

“Get the hell out of here!” she screams.

This time I’m able to do it. I turn and I run out of the house. I can still hear her crying, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I run, I run for what seems like forever. Then I feel the water flowing over my feet, and I realize that there is nowhere else to run. I come to my senses a little. I’m on the beach now, standing in the sand bank. The water is warm, even though the sun has long since set. It’s nice, and I know if things were different…Cam and I would be out in the water, naked and shit…

But things aren’t different. Jesus Christ, I just…I hit her. I sit down, not caring that my jeans are getting soaked, and that the salt water is going to ruin them. I don’t care about anything right now. I wish like hell that a big wave would come and sweep me out to sea, and drown me. Then I wouldn’t have to live with what just happened…I wouldn’t’ have to be this fucking monster…

I stagger to my feet a moment later, and gaze out at the ocean. Curiosity strikes me, and I start to wonder just how long it would take me to drown if I walked out into the deep part of the water. Would I suffer long? Would it be a scary death? No…no the water would just go up over my head. I would close my eyes and wait until my lungs gave out. It would be easy, painless. I could do it…

I take a step, then another….

And then my phone starts to ring.

Should I answer? I mean, maybe it’s momma. If it’s momma, I could probably say goodbye. I think I at least owe her that, after all that she’s been through. I dig the phone out of my pocket, and answer. “Hello,” I whisper.

“Oh my god, so this is still your number?” I hear a drunken cackle at the other end of the line, and I grimace. I know who it is. Kerri’s timing has always been impeccable. I want to hang up, I’m…I’m dealing with something horrible right now. I should hang up. I start to bring the phone away from my ear, but stop when I hear her say my name.

“Justin…are you there?”

“Yeah,” I say. “What…what do you want?”

She’s silent for a moment. I hear a lot of noise in the background. There’s loud music, and laughter…she must be at a party. But if she’s at a party, why the hell is she calling me?

“Don’t’ you know what today is,” she asks me with a silly laugh.

I don’t’ feel like playing her stupid game. “No.”

“Well…today…” she slurs. “Is the day we had sex!”

My mouth gapes open. How is this possible? How is she gonna call me up like this, on today of all days, and bring this shit up? More so, how the hell did she keep track of this shit? God, fuckin psycho. “Don’t call me anymore.”

“Just cus you don’t want to ‘member,” she informs me. “It don’t mean I don’t ‘member. Dayum, you’re such a fucking PRICK. I luffed you Justin, and you made me feel so good then. I still luff you, like a lot. It makes me so sad all the time…” her speech is cut short and I think that she‘s started to cry. I hear somebody talking to her in the background. It sounds like it could be Siobhan but I can’t be positive, because I know she has a lot of friends over there. Whoever it is, sounds like they are trying to get her to calm down though…and I wonder just how wild Kerri has been tonight.

“I would ‘preciate it, if you would join me in this convo, Justin,” she continues, stupidly. You need to shay sumting. Don’t act like you don’t ‘member. I know you ‘member.”

I don’t want to hear this. I don’t…I don’t have the patience right now. I don’t even say goodbye, or anything like that. I snap my phone shut, and then…I stare at it for a few moments. It starts to ring again, and I see that it’s Kerri calling me back. God, doesn’t she know? Doesn’t she raelize how fucking unstable I am? Wait…no, she couldn’t, because I don’t call her…ever. But that’s because she didn’t want me to. She left me. She left me all alone, and the only thing I could do to make myself feel better was slice myself open. I still have that scar too. COME BACK. It’s on my inner thigh, and every time I look at it, it reminds me of her. I hate being reminded of her.

The phone won’t stop ringing, and I get so angry, that I throw it into the ocean. I see it glint in the moonlight before it crashes into the water. It’s gone…that’s how easy it is. I could do that to…be gone like that. But…but I just can’t do it. I’m too weak to walk, my knees start to shake, and then I collapse onto the sand. I’m shaking uncontrollably. I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t even feel myself reach into my pocket, but then I see the blade in my hand, and I quickly pull down my jeans and boxers. I stare at my damaged skin. I see the scar…come back. And then I start…I start to make fresh cuts… I see the blood running down my legs and onto the sand. It’s weird, it makes the sand kind of clump together, like cat shit in a litter box. And I’m so busy thinking about cat shit, and Kerri, and hitting Cam that I don’t’ even realize that I’ve brought the blade up to my arm…until I feel the blood start to drip down onto my leg. I look…I did a lot of damage to my forearm. It’s cut wide open, and I start to freak out. I can’t hide this. There’s no way to do it.

“Justin! Where are you!”

Shit, it’s fucking Trace. What the hell? I thought he wasn’t coming back until tomorrow sometime. I realize that Cam must have called him. Of course she did. She’s freaked out, but she’s still worried, and so she called him and told him to get back here. I start to panic, and I try to make the bleeding on my arm and thighs stop, but there isn’t enough time. I hear Trace’s voice again, and it’s getting closer. He’s going to see. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What the hell do I do?

“What the hell are you doing down there?”

I look over my shoulder, and I see Trace standing a little ways up the beach. He’s still too far away to be able to tell what I’ve done to myself, and I know I need to take a desperate measure to make this bleeding stop. I take a handful of sand, and rub it into the cut on my arm. It hurts like hell though, and I find that I can’t stand the pain. “Fuck!” I scream. I clutch my arm and roll over onto my side. Fuck. I can’t hide this. I know I can’t.

I see Trace running down the beach, and then…he’s standing over me. I look up at him, but I wish I hadn’t. His expression is so frightened. He doesn’t know what to think, and I know I don’t have the strength inside of me to make up some lame ass excuse as to why I’m bleeding right now. So…I just start to cry, like the little faggot bastard that I am. “I’m sorry,” I sob pathetically. “Trace I’m so fucking sorry.”

His mouth opens, and he seems to want to say something…but I guess he can’t find his voice. He slowly crouches down beside me, and then I see the tears in his eyes. “Justin,” his voice cracks a little, and he covers his mouth with his hand. He shakes his head slowly and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t hate me okay,” I whimper. I close my eyes, but then I open them again. I don’t want Shane to come. “Don’t let him hurt me anymore,” I hear myself say. “Please.”

“It‘s…you’re okay, J.” He helps me to sit up, and pulls me toward him. He brings my arm into the moonlight, and when he sees what I’ve done, his frightened expression falls into a saddened one. Then his gaze falls onto the rest of it. He sees the cuts on my legs, and I think he’s figured it out. He knows that this has been going on with me for a long time. He’s probably blaming himself right now. He’s trying to figure out how he could have missed it. But it’s not his fault. Not at all.

“Push him away.” I see Shane again. He’s standing off to the side, and his eyes are filled with rage. “Don’t you fucking tell him!” he shakes, pointing an accusing finger at me.

But this time, I can’t keep quiet. I grab onto Trace’s arm tightly, and start to panic. “Don’t let him touch me…please Trace, I hate it when he touches me. I swear, I only did it because I had to. I’m not gay…I swear to god, I’m not.”

“What?” He tilts his head to the side, and looks at me curiously.

I don’t know what to do. I’ve just…damn it, I’ve just told him. He knows. He knows what I did. Oh no. Oh…no… I look up to see Shane’s reaction, but he’s gone. Now it’s just me, and Trace. And Trace…my god, he’ll never look at me the same way. “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” I whimper. “Please don’t hate me, Trace.”

He shakes his head. “Justin, wait…what are you trying to tell me?”

I shudder, and I know that I’m going to vomit in a few minutes. “I…” I pause and can’t help but let out a few more sobs. This is so fucking hard. I…I shouldn’t tell him. I don’t want to lose him. I need him to stick around.

“Justin,” Trace whispers. “Justin…did he rape you?”

I try to lie to him. I try to shake my head and tell him no, but I can’t. I just…I can’t. “He had sex with me,” I manage, just above a whisper. Then I lose control and I find myself crying into Trace’s chest. I feel him pull me into a hug, and I know that we probably look like a fucking gay couple right now. But I don’t care. He’s the only one that can understand. He’s the only one that cares enough about me to want to understand. Well…that’s not entirely true. I mean I have momma and daddy…but they’re a lot different.

“You’re okay,” he whispers. “You’re gonna be okay.” He keeps saying it to me, but I don’t’ know what to think. I don’t see how I can be okay now, that my secret is out. I had sex with Shane, and now Trace knows the truth. How can I ever be okay now?

I don’t ask him any of this of course. I just continue to cry, until I can’t cry anymore. Then he helps me pull my pants back on, before he helps to my feet. He keeps a firm grip on me while we make our way back to the condo, so I won‘t fall over or whatever. I’m still bleeding, and I’m sure the blood is all over Trace’s clothes and shit . It‘s so weird, I‘ve never realized just how strong Trace is until now. I mean, I‘ve told him all of this, and he didn‘t try to run away or tell me I‘m a freak or a fag. He‘s supporting me…he‘s going to be here for me for as long as I need him to be. I wish I hadn‘t been so closed minded and naïve. I wish I would have told him about all of this from the beginning. If I had…I would probably be okay. I wouldn‘t have hit Cameron, and all of this…it wouldn’t‘ have happened. We would have came out here, and had a fucking awesome time. But I guess, I can‘t change the past. The only thing I can do, is try to get help and let the people in my life support me and help me get better.

“Elisha,” Trace calls once we get inside. He helps me to sit down on a chair in the kitchen. I’m dripping blood everywhere, and I really don’t’ want Elisha to see me like this…but there’s nothing I can do about it. “Elisha!”

She comes running in after a moment. “Damn what…” Her speech falls short when she sees us, and her eyes widen. She focuses on Trace, and whimpers a little. “Oh my god. Baby…you‘re covered in blood.”

“Go get the peroxide,” he tells her softly. “And some gauze and bandages.”

But she can’t seem to move. She just stares at me, with those gorgeous blue-hazel eyes of hers. “What happened,” she asks. “Why is he bleeding like that?”

“He’s having some problems,” Trace nods. “Please ‘lish…just go get the stuff okay? And tell Cam…she should probably just stay upstairs for now.”

She doesn’t say anything. She bites her bottom lip and sends me a worried look, before running out of the kitchen.

Trace grabs a dish cloth and runs it under the faucet before returning to my side. “Does it hurt a lot?” he asks. “I can bring you to the hospital if it does.”

I shake my head roughly. “No…no hospitals,” I whisper. “Please…don’t bring me to the hospital.”

He reassures me that he won’t if that’s what I want. He presses the cloth to the cut on my arm, and starts to clear some of the blood away. Thankfully, it’s not that deep, and I know I won’t need stitches. But damn, what if Trace hadn’t come? Who knows what I would have done to myself. That scares me…I could have died. I guess, I really don’t want to die as much as I thought I did. I guess if I died, I would be even closer to Shane…because he’s dead too. No, I can’t die. I need to stay here on earth, and face this.

“You should have told me what was going on,” Trace says after a few moments. “I would have helped you.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” I say softly. “I…couldn’t tell you.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything else to me. He continues to clean the cut on my arm, and then he asks me if he can help me with the other ones. I shrug my shoulders. I feel like this big cut up freak. I don’t want to show him my thighs. I know in the light they are going to look really bad compared to what they looked like out there in the moonlight. But he’s only trying to help, and I’ve told him everything anyway…so I unbuckle my pants and pull them down, along with my boxers, wincing when everything is exposed. I mean, I’ve been naked in front of Trace before. Like, he always helps me pick out my shit when I have an important event to go to. But that was before…when I was confident in who I was and in my sexuality. I quickly cover myself, and don’t look at him.

“I got it.” I hear Elisha’s shaken voice and want to run and hide. I don’t want her to see me this way.

Trace pulls away from me for a moment and I hear him say “Thank you baby.” My eyes quickly dart up at them. He takes off his bloody clothes, and hands them to her. Now he’s in his boxers, and it’s making me even more uneasy. What if I get hard…seeing him half naked? God… I look down at myself, but nothing is happening. I don’t feel anything either. But still…I’m not sure about myself or my feelings right now. It could all hit me later…yeah.

“I’ll just…I’ll just go put these in the wash,” Elisha stutters, and hands Trace the clean shirt she brought for him . “Cameron is upstairs,” she says to me. “She…she um…she said she’s going to leave in the morning.”

I nod. I can’t even think about her right now. All I can think about is Trace, and what I told him out on the beach.

Trace yanks the white t-shirt over his head. I feel myself let out a breath, and realize I’ve been holding it since he stripped out of his other clothes. God, I‘m a fucking mess right now.

“Tell her that Justin cant’ think about all of that right now,” he says bitterly, even though I know that he’s not mad at Cam. I mean, I’m sure he knows that I hit her and shit. But I don’t think he wants to worry about her feelings right now. I’m a big enough burden on his shoulders. “He has enough problems.”

Elisha nods, and quietly leaves the room. I’m sure she’s going to cry, and I wish Trace could go comfort her…but I know he won’t. Not until I’m taken care of. I feel bad. Elisha doesn’t deserve this. She was having a great time here…with Trace, and now I’ve gone and ruined it all

I’m always fucking somebody’s life up.

Trace pours a little peroxide on the dish cloth and applies it to the fresh wound on my arm. I whimper a little, but I know the pain can’t be as bad as when I tried to put the sand in my cut. Trace lets the peroxide work it’s magic a little, and then applies the gauze and the bandage. “There. Just try not to move your arm a lot okay?” He crouches down and starts to concentrate on the cuts on my legs. He winces a little bit, when he gets a good look at the words scratched into my leg. He looks up at me, but I don’t say anything…and neither does he.

“This one is bad.” I point out the cut that was giving me grief on the beach today, and Trace seems thankful that I’ve decided to change the subject.

He puts some peroxide on it and bandages it up, before doing the same to a few other cuts of his choosing. “You know that…something has to be done,” he tells me. “I can’t just keep all of this a secret J.”

I pull my boxers back up, and nod at him. “I know that,” I say. I brush a few tears from my cheeks. “But I…I’m scared.”

“You don’t need to be scared anymore,” he says. “We’re going to call the right people, and get you some help okay?”

“Don’t tell…don’t tell them what I told you though,” I say, the fear in my voice apparent. “I don’t, I don’t want them to know.”

“That’s your choice,” he says quietly. “I’m not going to say anything to anybody about that. I promise okay? But the cutting thing…we have to get you help for it. Deal?”

I smile, just a little. It’s a genuine smile this time though…not one of those forced ones I always flash at him. “It’s a deal.”