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The Fifth Circle Page 2
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When my alarm went off at six the next morning, I could hardly lift my head off the computer desk. My neck ached and needles of pain pricked my left shoulder. I struggled to remember exactly what time I’d fallen asleep. I crawled into bed and reset my alarm.
“Sean, are you up?” Mom pounded on my bedroom door, jolting me from a sound sleep.
“Um, yeah,” I mumbled, rolling over and glancing at the time on my cell phone. It was seven. I had to leave in five minutes.
“Did you take your medicine?” she asked.
“Yeah.” I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I grabbed the bottle of Lamictal and tried to open the lid. My hands shook uncontrollably—a side effect of the medication. Pissed off, I threw the bottle across the room. I’d skipped my meds the night before, so why bother with my morning pill?
There wasn’t enough time to take a shower, so I checked on OwlBane instead. Despite my attempt to stay up all night and fortify my tower, I’d made far less progress than expected. Apparently dragon1971 didn’t sleep much either. Every game was the same. There was always some opponent who spent more time playing than I did and was nearly impossible to beat.
“Sean?” Mom’s thundering fists pummeled my door again. “It’s seven after. Shouldn’t you be leaving?”
Rumpled, dirty, and sullen, I staggered out to my driveway to meet Alex. She looked upon my disheveled appearance with dismay.
“Sean, don’t tell me…”
I cut her off. “Fine. I won’t. Just get in the truck. I’m in no mood.” I turned on the radio so she wouldn’t be tempted to speak to me.
With OwlBane still on my mind, I spent most of first period thinking about strategy. In second period I caught up on sleep. Third period brought detention, but I knew I would never serve it. Eventually, my un-served detentions would accumulate until the assistant principal rolled them into in-school suspension. I’d been down this road before, and preferred to pay my debt to high school society in one fell swoop rather than one afternoon at a time.
After lunch, I decided to skip the rest of the day. I went out to the parking lot and slept in my truck until Alex woke me up to drive her home. She oozed disapproval, but I was too worried about the game to pay her much mind. She rambled on about Choir and some other stuff that didn’t make sense, but it was hard to focus on what she said because my mind was already in Mordios.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “You seem quiet.”
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
When I pulled into the driveway, she said, “Oh, good. My dad’s at work.”
Sure enough, his van was gone. Silence filled the cab of my truck. I could tell she was giving me time to invite her in, to extend the same invitation I’d given her the day before. But, I didn’t say anything. Inviting her inside would just take me away from Mordios and renew my longing for her. Why torture myself?
At last, she opened the door and said goodbye. I almost called her back, but I thought about my extended absence from Mordios and OwlBane. By the time I logged on to my game, it was too late. Everything I’d fought for had been lost. I tried to beat back flashbacks of Stryder. Dwelling on his death made my heart ache. I couldn’t think about him.
I turned back to Mordios and pushed my growing depression aside. When Alex called me an hour later, I promised to call her back. At four o’clock in the morning, I looked up from the computer, shocked to discover how much time I’d spent in Mordios. Had I even eaten dinner? I realized I’d never called Alex back. For the first time since I’d been released from the hospital, I let her down. I turned the computer off and promised myself I’d never put a game ahead of our friendship. She was too important and I wouldn’t risk losing her.
Chapter 3- Alex
All hope abandon, ye who enter here!
(Canto III, line 9)
My mother took me out to buy a dress for the dance. I heard my parents arguing about it later. Not about the cost—about my date.
“You really think it’s a good idea for her to go with that boy?” my father asked.
“He’s a nice boy, Dan. It’ll be fine,” Mom said.
“Nice? He’s a god-damned lunatic. I know why he went to that hospital. In my opinion, he’s dangerous.”
“Of course he’s not,” she replied. “He’s a little confused, maybe, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly. I think it’s nice of her to agree to go to the dance with him. I don’t think the poor guy has many friends. ”
“He’s out of touch with reality. He tried to kill himself over a video game, Ellen. Is that normal?” he bellowed. “Someone who doesn’t know the difference between a game and real life is a danger.”
Well then, my father was very dangerous indeed, I thought. The hypocrisy of his statement was completely lost on him. This was a man who retreated to the comfort of a six pack of beer and ESPN every night when he got home from work. His weekends revolved around a case of Bud and a marathon of sporting events. He read the sports section of the newspaper before he could venture from the house each morning, listened to sports talk radio, yelled at the players as he watched them on TV, and belonged to a fantasy football league. Clearly, he’d blurred the lines between reality and entertainment just a bit.
“Honey, she’ll be fine. It’s just a dance,” Mom said. There was no response. His game had started and she was dead to him.
I wiped tears from my eyes. Had my father forbidden me to go to the dance with Sean, I would have shrugged and stayed home that night. I didn’t really want to go anyway. But, the venom in his voice when he spoke of my friend disturbed me. The inaccuracy of his statement upset me as well. Sean didn’t try to kill himself—he just threatened to, but that was only because his mom was bugging him about skipping school. Sean had been depressed, but that didn’t make him a bad person. He wasn’t dangerous and he wasn’t a lunatic. He was just a little damaged.
***
“I’m really glad we’re going together.” Sean’s eyes traveled the length of my body when I met him outside.
“Me too,” I lied. Lacquered-up and made-up, I felt like a clown, or a mannequin. It was difficult to breathe in the tight dress and my high heels were already uncomfortable. I was afraid to touch my face or hair.
“You look beautiful,” he said, helping me into the truck. “Really beautiful.”
“Thanks. You look nice too.” It was true. Sean was very handsome. He’d always been cute, and back in the days before I realized some guys were acceptable boyfriends and others were not, I had a crush on him in a juvenile sort of way. Any fantasies involving Sean never evolved past hand-holding and chaste kisses.
He’d obviously tried to look his best that night, thus reminding me that an attractive man lurked beneath the online-gaming, geeky façade. He was clean, and for him, that was a good start. He often came to school rumpled and unshaved, but, tonight his shirt was well-pressed and his meadow-green tie matched his eyes.
When we walked into the gym, my face heated. I knew people would stare at us. I wasn’t well-known at school, but Sean was—and not in a good way. With each step I took, I felt increasingly uncomfortable. Sean put his hand on the small of my back and tried to maneuver me toward the picture booth. It took every ounce of self-control not to twist away from him.
I tried to control my breathing and glanced up at the giant clock above the scoreboard. We’d have to stay at least an hour or two before Sean would allow me to escape. He pulled me close and I stiffened. His head rested just above my shoulder as I teetered around in my ill-fitting shoes. I clung to him to keep from falling, and he must have taken my grasping lurch as encouragement, because he pulled me closer still.
“Alex,” he murmured in my ear. “I have to tell you something.”
Oh, God, I thought desperately. If he declares his love, I’ll pass out right in the middle of the gym.
“Whassup, Stryder?” a voice called loudly, breaking into my thoughts. I was almost grateful for the interruption, but not quite. Darren Kennedy was the biggest asshole in the school
, and there he stood smirking at the two of us. Other couples stopped dancing to watch the show.
“Ignore him,” I whispered, desperate to avoid the inevitable bloodshed which would result if Sean tried to defend himself.
“Oh, no. Wait. You’re not Stryder. Kind of hard to tell the difference, isn’t it?” Darren asked. Sean had always been picked on, but it got worse at the beginning of our Junior year when he started referring to himself as ‘Stryder,’ the name of his avatar. His teachers, of course, refused to call him Stryder, but the other students quickly began using his chosen name. They mocked him relentlessly, using his own avatar against him.
“Piss off,” Sean muttered. His body was rigid with fury and one eye twitched spastically.
I pulled his arm, and tried to lead him from the dance floor. This was difficult because I could hardly walk without falling.
“So, is this your girlfriend?” Darren asked. “I didn’t know you had any real friends. I didn’t think you knew how to tell the difference between real life…” he broke off when the principal made an announcement over the intercom. Darren found his date and reported to the stage to join the other members of the Homecoming court.
“Let’s go,” I urged. “Come on, I hate all these people.”
“I’m sorry. The night is ruined now. I should have beat the shit out of him,” Sean said angrily. We both knew Sean would never be able to beat the shit out of Darren. Darren was the biggest football player on the team. He was also the biggest coward and never picked a fight unless he had a group of friends to back him up.
We left the gym and I breathed a sigh of relief when we reached his truck. His eyes were glassy with tears and I felt embarrassed on his behalf. His life wasn’t easy. I was a non-entity, but Sean was a laughingstock.
“You want to drive around?” I asked. It was too early to head home. My mom wouldn’t expect me for a least a couple of hours, and I didn’t want to explain to her why we cut the night short.
“Sure.”
We rode in silence for several minutes and I looked out the window at the setting sun. Sean steered the truck out of the residential area we lived in, and soon we’d entered the unincorporated part of the county. To the left was endless farmland, while to the right, the landscape dipped toward the lowlands. Sometimes, when the river was at flood stage, water came right up to the street. I rolled the window down just a little, and I could smell the boggy, earthy scent of the Mississippi River. We drove down highway 94 toward Illinois and he finally parked the car on an empty boat ramp overlooking the river. I didn’t know what to say, so I remained silent.
“Everyone thinks I’m a joke,” he complained.
“I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. You only went out with me because you feel sorry for me. You’re afraid I’ll kill myself if you reject me. I’m not that crazy, Alex. You don’t have to tip-toe around my feelings.”
“I know that, Sean. You’re right. I didn’t want to go to the dance at all. I went with you because you’re my friend and I care about you.”
“But you’ll never consider me as anything other than a friend. I’ll never have a real chance with you, especially after what happened last school year. I know Stryder wasn’t real,” he stated abruptly, turning toward me. “I’m not an idiot. It’s just that I’d put so much time into the game. It was an investment, and when he got killed, it just highlighted how much time I’d wasted. That’s what made me depressed. Nobody gets that.”
“I get it. I understand. I know you better than anyone.”
He touched my face and wiped away a tear from just beneath my eye. I didn’t move. As he lowered his lips to mine, I closed my eyes. His lips were hesitant and gentle. It was impossible for me to know whether or not he was a good kisser. It was the first time I’d ever been kissed by someone my age.
His tongue traced my lips and I parted them slightly. I tried not to gag when he pushed his tongue into my mouth. Counting to ten in my mind, I reminded myself it was just Sean—just Sean. He would never hurt me. When his breathing grew heavy, I pulled my mouth away. He moved his lips to my neck. He nipped my earlobe and ran his tongue down my throat.
“Sean,” I whispered. I wasn’t ready for this. Not with him. Not with anyone. It was too soon, too frightening, too overwhelming.
“Please, Alex,” he begged. “I’ve loved you forever. Just let me touch you. Just this once.”
My will crumbled—what he’d said before was true. I saw him as fragile and I was afraid to reject him. With the lyrics of my theme song racing through my head, I held my breath as his hand brushed against my breast. He moaned as he pulled at my dress straps and eased part of the fabric down, exposing tender flesh. I fought back tears. I had to stop him. We’d already gone farther than I wanted to. His lips crushed mine and he pushed me back against the seat.
“Enough,” I hissed. He didn’t stop. I felt sensations in places best left ignored. “Sean, enough. Stop!” We flew apart, both of us breathing heavily. “Oh, my God,” I whispered, shuddering.
“Sorry. I thought you…” he trailed off, embarrassed.
“No! I mean, it’s nothing against you. I just…I’m not ready.” It was humiliating admitting that I was so immature at eighteen. Maybe this was what guys automatically expected when you went out on a date. Maybe I was supposed to repay him sexually for the dance tickets. Maybe Sean, a guy who I’d always believed was as emotionally crippled as I, had been with dozens of girls. Maybe he’d made that leap into adulthood and left me behind. “Wait. You haven’t…”
“You know I haven’t,” he said. “I wanted it to be with you. But, not here. I didn’t force you, did I?” he asked anxiously.
“No. I’m just not ready. Not yet,” I said. Not ever, I wanted to say. I refused to make eye contact with him as I put myself back together. I smoothed my hair, fixed my dress, and checked out my face in the rear-view mirror. I was certain anyone who looked at me would be able to see what I’d been doing with Sean.
“Are you ready to go home?” he asked. “Or, do you want to drive around some more?”
“Let’s drive. I don’t want to go home,” I replied.
He switched on the radio to smooth over the awkward silence that settled between us. I wondered how we could continue to be friends after what had happened. Would he think I was his girlfriend? Would he approach me in the hallways at school and try to kiss me? My cheeks burned with humiliation at the thought.
When we pulled into his driveway an hour later, he grasped my hand and said, “Please don’t be sorry. Please don’t regret what happened.” I tried to harden my heart against the note of begging that crept into his voice.
“I don’t,” I lied. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I sprang from the truck before he could try to kiss me again.
When I climbed into bed later, my legs trembled when I thought about how far I’d let him go, how easily I gave into him. My father had been right all along—Sean was dangerous. At the thought of my father and Sean and the things I’d allowed him to do to me, I leapt out of bed and raced to the bathroom to empty the contents of my stomach.
Chapter 4- Sean
And to a place I come where nothing shines
(Canto IV, line 151)
I couldn’t believe Alex let me touch her like that. I’d expected her to push me away the moment I tried to kiss her, but she didn’t. After she went inside, I sat in my truck for five minutes waiting for the tension to leave my body and for the physical evidence of my desire for Alex to fade.
My mom wanted me to do a verbal reenactment of the dance before she would let me go to bed. Obviously, I had to make a lot of stuff up. I couldn’t very well tell her about the incident with Darren, or about how I’d touched a woman’s breast for the first time.
When I logged on to my computer, I saw my fortress had once again been sacked, but for once, I decided it didn’t matter. For the first time in weeks, I didn’t care about the game. Alex took front and center in my thoughts. Lying stif
fly under the covers, I thought about everything that had happened in my truck and shivered as the memories washed over me. I decided I wouldn’t remain a virgin much longer.
The moment I woke up the next day, I called Alex. She seemed hesitant to talk to me, but I figured she was just embarrassed about what happened. She had a lot of issues, so I knew I would have to take it slow with her. It couldn’t have been easy for her to let me see the top part of her naked. I desperately wanted to see the rest, though. I racked my brains, trying to remember every conversation I’d ever overheard between the guys at my school. Some tips on how to win a girl’s affections would be helpful, but the few friends I had were as socially inept as I, and none of them had ever had a girlfriend.
On Monday morning, Alex met me in my driveway, same as always. Her cheeks were bright red when she looked at me. I tried to smile reassuringly. What should I say to her? Should I address the issue or just carry on as if nothing had happened? I was never good at small talk, and with Alex, it had not been a required part of our friendship.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” she replied. We were social geniuses, the two of us. I could hardly look at her without thinking about her breasts, so I concentrated on the road. She sat as far away from me as possible—a bad omen, indeed. Depression hit me full force and I regretted that I’d stopped taking my meds.
When I pulled into my parking space, I willed her to look at me. She seemed bewildered when I asked, “Did you change your mind about us?”
She stammered for a moment before saying, “I’m just super embarrassed, Sean. It’s hard for me to look at you, or for you to look at me. Can we talk after school?”
“Sure,” I said. I patted her hand gently, and to my relief, she didn’t jerk it away from me. I thought about her all day. I even stayed awake for the most part.
Alex had tears in her eyes when we met after school. I figured she must have had a bad day. She allowed me to hug her in the parking lot before I helped her into my truck. “What happened?” I asked as we drove away.