Please read When We Were Young Ch. 2 and this will make a lot more sense.
Special thanks to kenjisato for the editing, whom I cannot recommend enough.
This is the first thing I've written. Comments would really be appreciated.
This part contains M/F consensual sex, retelling of M/MMM sexual assault (not too graphic) and FFF/M consensual sex
***
December 28, 2000
After checking out of the hotel and dropping Linda off at her house, I went home and slept for fourteen hours. Between the stress of Linda telling me about Ray, and me telling her (a little) of the hazing I'd endured and the sex in college, and telling her I loved her (and her saying it back!) β I was exhausted. Plus, I was due to meet Carmen, Linda's therapist, in like eighteen hours. I had no idea how that might go.
I lay awake thinking about KJ, how it was my fault he was dead, and about all the shit that had happened during those two weeks. How I could never tell anybody all of it, especially Linda. Why had I freaked on her, of all people? The one good thing in my life, my one shot at really being happy...happier than I thought possible. How I'd scared her, hurt her. How I'd do anything for her, anything to make her happy. How insecure I felt; where had that come from? Maybe, she was the first person I was afraid to lose. To sum upβI was a fucking mess.
Carmen had a small office in affluent Clayton; she was younger than I expected, maybe thirty, black, attractive, with a kind smile, super smart...not good for a man with secrets.
"Linda tells me you're dating and that it's serious," she said, as I settled on a loveseat.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied.
"Call me Carmen, if you prefer."
"Thanks, I'll try."
"She also said you had an episode a couple of nights ago. Why don't you tell me about that."
And so I told her what happened in the hotel room, and what I could remember telling Linda about the hazing. It was the tamest version of events and all I cared to tell anyone. I just wanted Carmen to tell me what was wrong, and how to avoid doing it again. I was pretty naΓ―ve.
"Tell me about KJ," she said.
I just stared at her. I didn't want to, not even a little. "Can't you just, I don't know, fix me?"
She gave me a kind smile. "It doesn't work that way, Tony. You and I talk about what happened thenβand is happening nowβand together, we'll try to figure out how to deal with it without you having more episodes."
I felt like a four-year-old about to have a temper tantrum. I really did not want to talk about him, about any of them. I didn't want anyone to know any more than I had already shared, but Carmen was not going to let me get away with that, it seemed. So, we just sat there in silence for about three minutes; me trying to decide how little I could say to get her to change the subject. The silence was deafening, unnerving.
"You won't tell anyone? You swear an oath or something?" I finally managed.
"Everything you tell me is confidential, Tony. I won't share anything you don't want me to."
The voice in my head was yelling at me to get out now, before it was too late.
'If you tell her, Linda will find out and leave you,'
it said.
'Once you start, you'll tell her everything, you know you will.'
And then an image of a disappointed Linda popped into my head. I can manage this, I thought, the voice in my head laughing hysterically.
"I killed KJ," I said hesitantly, staring at the floor.
'You're on your own, idiot,'
the voice said.
Carmen looked at me for several seconds, "KJ died of a drug overdose. That's what you told Linda. Is that not true?"
"But it's my fault. If he hadn't listened to me, he'd still be alive."
"How so?"
I took a deep breath. "That first evening, after Caleb and I...KJ had done the same to Jamaal; we were in our room, freaked out, trying to decide what to do. KJ had not been in the States very long; he looked at me like I would know what the answer was, what we should do. I asked him if he wanted to leave, saying it was okay if he did, and he asked me what I was going to do. I had decided down on the dock to just take it, whatever 'it' was. I felt like I had so much to lose, too much, and I told him I was going to stay, saying I thought we could do this, that it would be okay, and it'd be over soonβwe could just forget about it and move on.
"So KJ said okay, he'd stay, too. And I was so happy (a sob broke free, and it took a minute before I could continue).
"If I had said we should leave, he would have listened to me, and he'd still be alive. Instead, I was a selfish prick and so wrong and should've known it would be...and now he's dead. It should be me," I said softly, tears rolling down my cheeks.