Ashes Of Another Life - 3. Attention

He was asleep when I got there, but I immediately wanted out of the room. I didn’t want to be there when he woke up.

And I didn’t want to have to talk to her.

Ashley was there along with an older woman that I assumed was her mother. She was small too, and just as pretty as Ashley was. Ashley made me…uncomfortable. The way she looked at me made my skin itch, made me want to run away, and that just wasn’t on. She was so fucking nice and small and I felt like I couldn’t be rude to her. Like she was something fragile and I couldn’t just be a dick to make her go away. It’d be like being an ass to Kylie.

“Conner?” she asked, when she looked up and saw me standing in the doorway. Her head jerked back, and she frowned, question obvious on her face.

“Hey…” I said, without moving. I was eyeing my chair, but I was having a hard time trying to make myself step toward it. I have no idea why. Both Ashley and her mother were staring at me, waiting for me to go on, but I had nothing to offer.

“Are you here for Austin?” Ashley prompted, hesitant smile making its way onto her face.

Austin. That was it.

“Uh…no,” I said, forcing myself into the room. “I’m…Justin.” I clenched my jaw, mentally kicking myself. “I mean, I’m here for him. For Justin.”

I dropped my eyes to the ground, counting the steps to my chair, familiar and uncomfortable at Justin’s right side.

“Oh,” she said, her voice softer now that I wasn’t looking at her. “That’s…cool, I guess.”

I shrugged, already bitter that I wouldn’t be talking to Justin for however long they were in the room with me. Sometimes I hated talking to him. I got bitter when I realized I was the only person actively conversing, angry that he was just…blank. Gone.

But I needed it. Talking to Justin was a crucial part of my day. It was the only time I talked at all and I needed it. But I couldn’t do it with them there. I spent the day glaring at their side of the room whenever their backs were turned, and a few times when they weren’t.

I outright ignored Ashley the few times she’d attempted to draw me into a conversation. It was nice of her and it wasn’t as if I had any specific problem with her. I just didn’t know how. It was better to blow her off than to fumble my way through a response, trying too hard to sound something like normal. It was aggravating and I’d gotten used to being a dick to make people I didn’t want around go away. It was better that way. Easier. Feeling like an ass was way better than feeling fucking helpless.

It worked, too. Ashley left off before long and moved on to doing her best to avoid my eyes. It wasn’t necessarily hard, considering I wasn’t even trying to catch hers. Her mom was too focused on Austin to pay much attention to me in the first place. I was okay with that.

Ashley didn’t come back the next day or the day after that, but her mother did. The boy—Austin—had yet to wake up. It was the longest I’d seen anyone other than Justin stay asleep so far, but his mom didn’t look worried.

“Is he…” I asked one day, after too long in the silence. I didn’t get much farther than that. I didn’t know how to ask the question. I didn’t know how I started.

“What’s that?” she asked me, all friendly smiles, and positive attitude.

“Is he like Justin?” I finally blurted, hoping that she’d catch on.

She cocked her head, looking to the bed where Justin lay and then back to me. “What’s Justin like?” she asked.

“You know,” I said, nodding at my boyfriend. She had to know. Someone had to have told her.

She just stared at me, eyes blank, curious furrow to her brow.

“Is he going to wake up?” I snapped at her, suddenly wishing I’d never opened my mouth.

“I’m sorry,” she frowned, bemused. “Why wouldn’t he?”

I sighed, and turned away. “Never mind.”

I didn’t try talking to her again, but every so often, I could feel her eyes on me. We sat in silence for the rest of the day, with her getting up frequently to fix the blankets around Austin or just to sit on the edge of his bed and hold his hand. I wondered if he held hers back.

“Do you come here every day?” she asked, as she stepped into the hall with me as the day ended...

I never leave, I thought but didn’t say. I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the elevator ahead of us at the end of the hall.

“It’s real nice of you,” she said, when we finally reached them and I pressed the button three times, in rapid succession like doing so would make the elevator come faster. “Coming to see your brother like that. It’s sweet.”

“Boyfriend,” I corrected, without thinking. “He’s my boyfriend.”

She didn’t try speaking to me again.

*

I walked into Justin’s room on Friday expecting to have to deal with Austin’s mother again and ended up finding Austin sitting up, wide awake, and chucking balled up pieces of notebook paper at my boyfriend.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I snapped, stepping in front of a wad of paper flying right toward Justin’s face.

“Whoa, dude,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I was just trying to get him to wake up. He’s hogging the remote.”

I shook my head, picking up the pieces of trash littered around Justin courtesy of the douche bag in the next bed.

“He’s not going to wake up, asshole,” I spat, and Austin’s eyes widened.

“I wasn’t trying to be a dick or anything,” he said, apology clear in his tone and on his face. “It was just paper. No big deal.”

“Right, cause it’s cool to chuck garbage at the vegetable. It’s funny, huh?”

“Jesus, I…” the kid’s face turned beet red, and I could see his chest rise and fall as his breathing picked up pace. “I didn’t know. I thought…he doesn’t look hurt, I thought….”

“Fucktards shouldn’t waste time thinking,” I muttered, throwing all the paper I gathered into the small trashcan next to Justin’s bed.

The kid was silent for long moments. I could feel him staring at me but I refused to pay him the time of day. He threw trash at Justin. If ever there was a way to permanently make my shit list.

I opened my notebook and doodled a picture of a scrawny blond boy—or, you know, a stick figure with scraggly hairs on top of the head—with a foot up his ass. My foot. I felt tons better afterward and it would make Justin smile. Whenever he finally saw it.

“I’m sorry,” Austin murmured, just as I was trying to get the facial expression on my picture just right.

I snorted. “Don’t apologize to me,” I said, pressing my pen harder to the page.

The room was silent for a moment, and then Austin sighed, shuffling under his covers.

“I wasn’t,” he said.

I looked up then, frown on my face as I turned to look at him. He had rolled over to face the other side of the room, but I stared anyway. The only other person he could have been talking to was Justin. No one talked to Justin anymore, not really. The nurses might make a comment here and there, but not so much anymore. Even Justin’s mother, when she came, mostly sat by the bed quietly, reading one of her books.

It was just me. No one else.

I glared at the back of Austin’s head as I stood up, grabbing blindly for the remote to the TV. He didn’t turn when I walked up to the bed, not even when I came to stand close enough to actually shove a foot up his ass, if I wanted. He tensed up just a bit, but otherwise didn’t move an inch.

I frowned, and dropped the remote on the bed next to his legs. I opened my mouth to speak, but stopped short when I realized I had nothing to say. I frowned and turned away.

“He can’t hear you,” I said finally, when I returned to my seat. But I didn’t sit down. I grabbed my notebook and left the room for lunch. Willingly.

*

It was my intention to ignore Austin and his entire creepy nice family for the rest of the time they were there. He was awake, laughing, and talking nonstop, so I figured it couldn’t be long before they were gone.

I sat at Justin’s bedside day in and day out, listening to Austin talk probably half a dozen ears off a day. His mom’s, his sisters, his two younger brothers’, his dad’s, and Sheri’s. Not to mention Justin’s and mine.

I couldn’t even be grateful when his visitors finally left, because without them around to distract him, Austin just turned his attention on me, and kept going. I’d tried telling him I wasn’t listening, but it never discouraged him.

“I don’t like you,” I told him one day, cutting him off as he went on and on about how weird it was that he and Justin basically had the same name minus one letter. Like it meant something that they were both there at the same time. What a steaming pile of shit. “I don’t like you at all.”

“Right,” he responded, waving me off, undeterred. “It’s kind of obvious with what a dick you are and all that.”

“So why are you still talking to me?” I asked, glaring my most intimidating glare. It was a good one, too.

Austin laughed. “I don’t like you either,” he said simply. “I’m not giving you anything you want. Want some of my Reeses? Too bad. Want me to shut the fuck up? Eat shit.” He grinned, shoving his chocolate into his mouth, closing his eyes as he chewed. He swallowed dramatically, before looking at me and adding, “Dick.” Just for good measure.

I got used to him. I had a problem with people talking to me, but that was mostly because I didn’t want to talk back, didn’t even know how to do so anymore. But Austin didn’t need a response. Austin didn’t need any participation from me whatsoever. I was pretty sure he was the kind of guy who would talk to himself when everyone else finally got tired of him and left him on his own.

I didn’t like him—I wasn’t sure I even could—but I got used to him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two weeks after he’d arrived, Austin could already get up and use the bathroom by himself, but he’d still yet to be discharged. And I was left having to listen to more of his nonstop babbling. What’s more, his younger sister Ashley was even worse.

“Is Pierce in any of your classes?” I heard her ask for the twenty-seventh time since Austin had been there. She knew the answer to the question. Hell, I knew the answer to the question and I didn’t even know who Pierce was.

“I. Don’t. Know.” Austin replied, sounding annoyed even through a mouthful of pudding. I couldn’t blame him.

“Seriously,” he went on after he swallowed. “I haven’t even been to school since classes started this year. How would I know who I have classes with?”

“He’s your friend, Austin,” Ashley replied, tone flat. “I thought you might have talked to him.”

“And said what?” Austin snorted.

“Couldn’t you just ask him what classes he’s in?”

Austin laughed, loud and open, and I sank lower in my seat to try and conceal the fact that I almost laughed with him. Not because I thought anything they were saying was particularly funny. It was just one of those laughs that I immediately responded to. My mother had one of those laughs. They were always loud, long, and deep, like she’d just heard the funniest joke of her life yet. Hearing the laugh always made me smile along with her, wishing I could be let in on the funny. Austin had that same laugh.

“No,” he replied after he sobered. “If you wanna stalk Pierce, you’re going to have to do it by yourself.”

“You’re mean,” Ashley replied, sticking her lip out, but it was more playful than anything else. She stood up, pulling the straw out of her brother’s cup and sprinkled water at him. “I’ve got to run,” she continued, picking up her purse. “We finally started getting heavy homework, but I wanted to come by and make sure I couldn’t change your mind about Pierce. He’s my reason to be.”

“I can’t believe you’re related to me,” Austin deadpanned, wiping the droplets of water off of his face with a grin. “You’re such a freak.”

“And you’re brain dead,” she retorted, and I went cold, along with the room in general. “I mean…” she tried, but I wasn’t looking at her anymore and she seemed to think better of trying to apologize or whatever after a minute. She sighed. “Just get better, Austin. Mom has me, like, doing chores and stuff. It’s weird.”

“Yeah, Ash,” he said. “I’ll be home soon.”

She leaned in to hug him, before clacking away in heels that I could only assume she wore to compensate for her lack of any actual height. The click-clack faded as she got further away from the room, and I was grateful to be rid of her.

I could feel Austin staring at me again and steeled myself for when he finally got up whatever nerve he needed to start annoying the shit out of me again. It never took too long with him. It was almost as if he couldn’t help himself. If someone was there, he was going to talk. I wondered sometimes if he talked to Justin while I wasn’t there.

“I could hear you, you know,” he finally said after long moments of silence. Longer than I was used to with him.

“Well, yeah,” I replied without looking up. “I’m only sitting like, five feet away from you.

“No…not…that’s not what I meant,” he said, and something in his voice had the hairs standing up at the back of my neck. “I meant before,” he went on. “I could hear you talking to him.”

My initial reaction was a mild sort of embarrassment. It’s not like I said anything incriminating or anything and Austin didn’t even know me. I could talk to Justin. It was what people did, right? That’s what Sheri was always telling me. It was normal.

But…

I turned to look at him. “I don’t talk to Justin,” I lied. It was partly true. I didn’t talk to Justin in front of anyone. I hadn’t been able to speak to him at all since Austin woke up.

“Yeah, you do,” Austin retorted, more confident. “I can’t remember what you said…not really. Maybe something about my sister once? Or…something about your sister? That’s gotta be real, right? You have a sister, right?”

So maybe he had heard something, but I had no idea when I could have slipped. I really hadn’t talked to Justin, not even on the rare occasion that Austin napped during visiting hours.

“What’s your point?” I asked, aggravated with myself for slipping, and with Austin for having the nerve to eavesdrop and then tell me about it.

“So…if I heard you while I was…you know, out…maybe he can hear you.”

Oh.

I went still in my chair, staring over at Austin, so much noise suddenly in my head that I could hardly pick out one thought from the bunch. Something inside me lifted, just for a second and I turned back to Justin, abrupt, and excited and expecting...something.

But there was nothing there. Justin was turned facing away from me just like Sheri had left him. His arm had fallen behind his body in a position that couldn’t be comfortable. Anyone else would have shifted in their sleep, turned onto their back or pulled their arm into another position.

Not Justin. He couldn’t feel it.

I sighed, turning back to face Austin. “No, he can’t,” I replied, but not unkindly. I reached over, shifting his arm myself. “Justin’s different.”

“How?” Austin shot back, eyes hopeful. He couldn’t have been much younger than me but he looked it. He was thin and small like his sister. He had curly hair where Ashley’s was straight, but he had those same wide eyes.

“You’re awake, right?” I said, my tone soft, almost gentle. He had this look on his face that reminded me of how I felt right before Sheri told me that the fact that Justin had opened his eyes didn’t mean anything. I was sure hearing the truth wouldn’t break him—wouldn’t come close to affecting him the way it had affected me, but still…

He nodded at me, leaning closer as he waited for me to continue.

“Justin hasn’t woken up for six months.” Six months, three weeks, and four days.

I don’t know where it came from or why, but I didn’t stop there. Austin was staring at me; waiting like what I’d told him wasn’t enough of an explanation, so I went on. I told him all of it. Beginning to end. He didn’t even flinch when I’d let the boyfriend thing slip, like his mother had, or get uncomfortable when I let it be known that Justin was in bed with me right before his accident.

It felt like when I tried to explain it to Kylie. Everything inside of me was always cold and dark and empty and I never wanted her to feel like that. I was always careful to smile around her, and sugar coat everything, and when I told her why Justin wasn’t coming around anymore, I’d kept my voice low the entire time, so very careful, no sudden movements.

It was like that now. Austin was always smiling, always laughing and he’d been looking at me so fucking hopeful. I didn’t want to fuck it up. It was like I didn’t really want him to understand, because I didn’t want him—or Kylie or anyone else—to have to be where I was. I liked that he wanted to believe Justin would wake up. I needed someone else to believe it.

But I couldn’t stop talking to him, and I didn’t stop at the accident. He kept asking questions, prompting me further and it just…spilled out. He was really listening too, so intent on every word, expression never changing to one of pity. He just…listened and responded and it all came pouring out of me.

I think it was a side effect of not having spoken to Justin for so long, when Justin was the only one I ever really talked to. I had a lot of…build up.

I even told Austin about the fiasco in Economics with her sister, and repeated what I’d told Justin about the situation before Austin had woken up.

Austin snorted when I got to the part where I’d made an ass of myself when I found her in the room for the first time.

“Don’t sweat it, bro,” he put in. “It’s probably better not to know Ash. She’s had a crush on every last one of my friends. She’s… a lot.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just her. I can’t talk to anyone anymore. I don’t know how.”

I frowned even as the words were coming out of my mouth, because seriously? What did I think this was? Dr. Phil? Fuck that.

“You’re talking to me,” Austin countered, before I could figure out a way to take it all back. His accompanying smile took over his face.

I opened my mouth to deny it, to counter in some way but snapped it shut again when I realized how stupid it’d be to even try.

I shook my head at him, almost smirking. I felt like I’d been tricked. I couldn’t remember having said anywhere near as much as I had in the last thirty minutes than I had in the last month.

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I didn’t cry. I mean, not after the doctors finally let me in to see Justin. I cried in his room, my head rested on the bedrails gripping the sheet next to Justin’s hand ‘til my knuckles hurt because he was too broken to touch. I hadn’t wanted to hurt him, make it worse.

After that, it didn’t really happen. I didn’t shed another tear for Justin. I missed him so much I literally got sick with it a few times, but I couldn’t cry. It felt wrong, like I was betraying him somehow. Like I’d given up already and Justin was already dead. He wasn’t and I couldn’t cry. I wouldn’t.

But maybe I should have.

I was perfectly aware that most of my behavior wasn’t what you could call healthy. It just didn’t matter. I cared—I cared that I was freaking everyone the hell out and probably giving my mother more grays than she needed—but I couldn’t do anything about it.

None of the bullshit anyone was spewing at me was true. It wasn’t getting better. It was a fucking blessing that I’d had the summer to be on my own, because sometimes…it hurt so fucking bad I wasn’t sure it was even possible to be around other people.

My mom was worried sick. My friends were so over me being such a downer, and all anyone wanted was for me to move on.

It wasn’t okay for me to lock myself in my room when I felt like there was so much painful pressure in my chest that I felt like if I opened my mouth to speak, the constant screaming in my head was all that was going to come out. It wasn’t okay for me to skip out on dinner because my stomach was too busy twisting and turning to consider putting food inside of it. And it definitely was not okay for me to sneak out at night and harass the night nurses because I was so fucking desperate to see him, I’d had a full blown panic attack, hyperventilation and everything.

I didn’t want to be some socially retarded, freak of a loner, but I didn’t really have a choice. I was…completely fucked up. I’d done everything I could think of to try and make it hurt just a little less, to try and get through just one more goddamned second. One. Fucking. Second. That’s it.

Nothing worked. I just had to live with it. Suck it up and do my best to breathe through it. The mutant shell of a human being that I’d turned into was actually the best I could do. I couldn’t be what they wanted, and I’d gotten tired of seeing the disappointment. The fear, like I was some kind of monster. Or the sadness, like I was already broken beyond repair.

Austin…didn’t give me those looks. He didn’t put pressure on me. He didn’t expect me to open up and be his best fucking friend just because I’d had one serious conversation with him. He just…talked. He didn’t push me to respond, didn’t try and force me to get better.

He just sat there and talked and once I got over myself a little, it actually helped. Listening to Austin gave me a little bit of time outside of my messed up head. It gave me a distraction—a few minutes where I wasn’t thinking about how fucked up everything was. Where I wasn’t simply holding my breath trying to make it to the next second.

I wasn’t sure if I should feel grateful or guilty.

I glanced over at Justin while I thought it over, Austin’s voice droning on in the background—the pros and cons of sniffing Elmer’s glue—and I decided grateful was definitely the way to go. Austin wasn’t taking any time from Justin and I knew Justin would be grateful to hear about him. It was temporary and I wasn’t ditching Justin for some skinny little twerp that couldn’t keep his mouth shut with super glue and staples but for a while, I wouldn’t be completely alone. There was no way Justin would be pissed about that.

*