Chapter 2

The next morning I managed to eat some cereal and slip out of the house before my family could question me again. At school, homeroom was boring as always. God, some teachers just ooze boredom and stupidity. Why the fuck did they even become teachers if they never intended to actually be involved with children.

My first chance to see Heather was math. When I entered the room, I was nervous about how she would behave towards me. There was no reason to worry about that, as she was not there. When she was still missing at the last bell, my reason to be nervous suddenly changed completely.

How could I find out, if something was wrong with Heather? I was praying that she had not gone through with her plan. The sinking feeling in my stomach seemed to accuse me of not giving my all in rescuing her. Had I failed her?

Not being able to focus on school, I went to the nurse, claimed a migraine, and supported that claim by rushing to the wastebasket in the corner, covertly sticking a finger in my throat and throwing up. Nurse Carter surely was glad when she managed to get rid of me.

After finally being free, I still had no idea what to do. To go see Heather, I needed her address, which I did not have. There was also the small point, that it seemed to me, that she did not want me there. Maybe her parents had strict rules in regards to boys. Her friends were all in class. That left me standing outside the school, without a plan, without transportation, without anything.

On the other side of the street, directly opposite our school, there was an ancient phone booth. Nobody used it anymore, the cable between phone and receiver was cut, the booth was covered in graffiti, but it still had a phone book dangling at a chain. Strolling over, I picked it up and opened it. Large chunks of pages were missing. My heart sank. Looking for the letter W, Heather’s last name is Whitefield, I nearly dropped the phone book upon discovering that the page I needed was still untouched. There were four different Whitefields, Don, Martha, Winnifred and Whitefield Consulting.

My best bet was Don, as Heather was still living with both parents and I deemed it unlikely that they registered under the name of her mother if they were registered at all. Wealthy people had a tendency to keep their phone numbers a secret. Unfortunately, there was no address for Don Whitefield, only a phone number. I decided to give it a try.

I dug out my cell and called that number. After ringing for seven or eight times, the phone was picked up. From the voice, I could immediately tell that I was not talking to Heather, but most likely to her mother.

“Hello.” A feminine voice said.

“This is Nathan Really speaking,” I said. How I came up with the idea to continue the joke with my last name is absolutely beyond me.

“What do you want?”

“Is Heather available?”

“Who are you that you try to call my daughter at home?”

“We are going to the same school. I need to ask her something about a math test that is coming up.”

“Why aren’t you in school? Shouldn’t you be learning?”

“Miss Whitefield, I am ill at home. Would you please let me talk to Heather? I need to get this information.”

“Heather is in school as a good child should be at this time of day.”

“Okay. Thanks. Bye.”

I was definitely not going to become a fan of Heather’s mother. The condescending tone when she had said the last sentence was too much. Apart from finding out her phone number, I had not made a single step towards finding Heather. The nagging feeling in my gut, that something was wrong just kept growing.

Not knowing what to do, I decided to wait for the current period to end and try to find one of her friends. Maybe there were places Heather went to when she needed to be alone. Chances were that she would not share those locations with her friends to keep them secret, but I needed to do something.

I managed to get a hold of Kathy, one of her BFFs. She was not really able to help me. Kathy had not even noticed yet that Heather was not in school. My definition of friends had to be different from that of the more popular kids.

After not being able to find another one of her so-called friends, I decided to go home and try to come up with a proper plan. Upon arriving home, I noticed a hunched over figure sitting on our front porch. It looked very much like Heather. While I was rushing to her, she looked up at me. Her face was a mess. Tears were streaming down and she had a bruise on her left cheek.

She managed to stand up before I got to her and pulled her into a tight hug. Tension seemed to melt away. I held her for a long time while she sobbed into my chest. I did not care. The only important thing to me was, that she was OK. At least more or less, as it was apparent that something was wrong. The inquisition had to wait. Calming down Heather had top priority.

Holding her felt amazingly good. Despite the situation, I could not avoid noticing how her body molded to mine, her small, soft breasts pushed into my abdomen. I found myself trying hard to will away the erection that threatened to form.

At this point, I have to admit that I have never had a girlfriend. I noticed years ago, that I was attracted to my little sister. Every other girl was automatically compared to her, none of them being able to measure up. Since she had started puberty, Sarah had been my ideal woman. My love for her had only grown from there, changing from normal sibling love to a deep abiding love, which slowly drove me to despair.

Heather finally calmed down enough for me to walk her into our house and up to my room. She refused to let go of me, insisting to at least have a hold of my hand all the time. She would not even let me sit in my chair while she was on my bed. She insisted on me sitting next to her on the bed. The whole situation made me uncomfortable while simultaneously thrilling me. How pathetic do you have to be to need a horrified girl seeking shelter with someone she considers safe to be the most intimate moment of my life. And that by just sitting next to me, holding onto my hand as if it was a lifeline, and maybe to her it was.

The whole time, not a single word had been spoken by either of us. The elephant in the room had to be broached, and there was more than one present at the time. To get the ball rolling, I decided to circumvent the topic a bit, asking if she wanted an ice pack for her face.

“No, it’s OK. It doesn’t really hurt anymore.” She answered.

“Um ... I was really scared this morning in school when I noticed that you were missing.”

“I didn’t feel like going to school.”

“Yeah, I have an idea why. Wanna talk about it?”

“We managed to avoid the subject yesterday, didn’t we?” She said with a small smile. Seeing it, I felt a strange kind of relief.

“We did indeed. As hard as it might be, maybe we should agree to be open and honest with each other. We both need help with our issues, and I guess that you got even less support than I, and that was pretty pathetic.”

“I agree,” She said, the smile gone from her face, replaced by a resigned look. “But I’m scared shitless. I have never talked about it with anyone else, not even my closest friends.”

“Me neither. My family, the hospital staff, the shrinks, my friends and whoever else asked, all got some bullshit from me about the real reason why I tried to kill myself. I even catered to their believes that I was just looking for attention. That was easier than to admit to the actual reason behind it.” It felt good to talk to Heather. She was the first person that I could talk to, of whom I thought that I could bear my soul to.

“Everybody wears a mask, which they want the world to see. They pretend, they deceive, and they lie. Maybe you even show your mask to yourself when looking into a mirror. You seem to be able to be honest with yourself, “Heather said. “But the real question is if we will be able to lower our masks in front of the other. Will you let me in?”

That was a damned good question. Was I prepared to lay everything on the table? What would Heather think of me, if she knew what made me tick? I would need to trust her.

“I’ll try,” I answered her. “For years I have been shutting that part of me off from the world. Although it hurts, admitting to it would cause more harm than I’m willing to inflict. And who would it harm? The very people that are the most important to me.”

“I have an idea what you mean. Your mask has some cracks.”

“What do you mean?” I asked her, wondering if she already had a clue what my problem was.

“You gave me several hints yesterday. After that, it was just necessary to look for the clues. Don’t be afraid. I don’t think that anybody else knows.”

“Shit. I thought ... um ... fuck...”

“Nathan, it’s OK. Nobody else knows. Calm down. We already agreed to be honest with each other. No need to be embarrassed. You haven’t done anything wrong, have you?”