Whispers

Part Three, by Michelle Wilder

Is a hidden flower beautiful?

(This is almost the first story I ever wrote. It's the apple seed from which many grew. Reposted with grammatical revision only.)

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I didn’t sleep very well at all, all that weekend. I had nightmares, about people watching me, and the stairs, and falling, being pushed.

And I missed Princess. I missed everyone.

I didn’t see Ben the following week. I don’t know what I could have told him anyways, so I cancelled. Dennis asked me about it but I said I just couldn’t make time.

Thursday was when I was finally meeting with the grad students, after psych class. I felt awful by then and Dennis had asked a bunch of times if I was sick and even said I should see someone at the clinic, but it was just not sleeping well.

The grads had a small seminar room booked and Dennis walked over with me after our class and I introduced him to Vi again (I didn’t remember the other ones’ names, but they introduced themselves) and he left after they said they were gonna take me to late lunch, after.

He said he was skipping his history class and he’d be in the room all afternoon and I should call if I needed to. I nodded. Talking seemed harder and harder.

They made me talk.

Vi and one of the other ones took turns asking me all sorts of pretty embarrassing questions off printed papers they had, and the other two typed my answers (I guess) on two laptops that they said were the *real* project, ‘cause it was all about statistics. Or data. I don’t remember. But like the first thing.

Some of it was the same kinda stuff Ben and I talked about, but more about how much and how often. Frequencies.

Even with that, lots of the questions were about being lonely, or unhappy. Or scared. Or my answers were. Or they began to feel like that.

And then some of it was about sex. About if I was seeing anyone, and I told them I really just hung out with Dennis. They asked if *we* had ever kissed, or had sex. I couldn’t talk at all for a while.

They acted like it was just another bunch of questions.

There were two little video cameras running, and a digital tape recorder on the table. They said that the purpose of their research was secret and I shouldn’t ask any more or they’d have to kill me. Or their prof would kill their funding.

But the questions were... too hard.

I wasn’t too laughy by the end. I almost couldn’t hide how bad I felt. By then the questions were like... I mean, like they made me hurt like cuts. Ben never did that.

When they finally closed the laptops they said they were really pleased with the session, and then asked if I still wanted to go eat?

I really wasn’t in the mood for going anyplace. In public, anymore, ever. Ever. I was even trying to figure out how not to go back and see Dennis...

But he wouldn’t make me talk, and he could tell if I wanted to just sit. I wanted to tell him I felt so bad. But I was afraid to see him after what they asked. I was afraid I’d say too much.

I wanted to go home. But there was nothing there, except Mom and Dad and no Princess and an empty room.

I didn’t say that, any of that, but they still tried to make me feel okay about it, about lunch, I guess, and said they’d be there and stuff, and I finally said I would after I thought they were going to think I was. . .something.

I didn’t know.

We all walked across the quad to a pub-kinda restaurant up two floors in the Student Union building. Hale’s. I never even knew it was there. Or where it was, anyway.

“Ladies, gentlemen... Table for six?” The guy at the door picked up menus and smiled at me. He made me more nervous.

Vi said yes, they had reservations. It turned out to be about the biggest round table in the place. It woulda fit ten and we could've fit at a smaller one, but that's where we were put.

The guy put the menus down and walked over behind me and kinda pushed my chair in just as I sat and I’m pretty sure I blushed or looked scared. I was scared.

He asked if I wanted anything to drink, and I just shook my head and looked at the table, and then he asked everyone else.

They all ordered coffees or drinks or whatever and he said Bret would wait on us and smiled at me again and walked away.

I was almost ready to run out, but I was more afraid they’d really, really think I was weird.

Everyone looked at the menus or kinda talked about them, that kinda thing, except Viola was looking at where the waiter guy had gone. I looked down before she could see me.

-

I said about two words all lunch, and I felt like a crud. I know they were sorry I was there.

After I left them, I ran all the way back. I felt like if I didn’t run something terrible would happen. Like I was being chased, or I would fall and break. I felt like it already had and would be way worse if it caught up and really happened.

I didn’t tell Dennis about anything, even though he kept asking if I was okay and I was shaking so much I wouldn’t go to supper.

Mom and Dad called me again that night, twice in two nights, and I didn’t tell them either, but I think they both could tell ‘cause Mom asked twice if I wanted to talk about anything, and Dad said he was proud of me and he loved me, he hoped I knew that?

I wished Dad hadn’t said that. He wouldn’t be proud of me. He wouldn’t love me.

I went to the shower room and made sure the water was loud, and cried.

He’d hate me.

I had a bad dream. I didn’t remember, but I was gasping when I woke up.

Dennis said I made a noise.

-

In the morning Dennis said I was talking in my sleep, but I wasn’t making any sense. He said I still looked really tired, too.

I almost skipped classes, but I knew that if I did, I’d never go, ever again, so I got up.

I went with Dennis to breakfast and this nice older lady at the cash register who was always really cheery to everyone took my meal card and punched it and said “Enjoy your breakfast, dear!” and smiled really big at me.

I got really cold, even if she was like that with everyone. I knew that, but I felt awful. And Dennis looked at me.

I forgot to get my card back when I walked away. The lady almost shouted “Your card, dear!!”

I started panicking and running and half-spilled my tray when I put it down somewhere, some table, and then I just left.

My stomach hurt and I almost fell. I hurt my thumb when I tried to get in our room and pushed the door wrong, before I had it open. I cried over my thumb.

Dennis got my card for me, ‘cause he brought it to our room after he didn’t eat either, I guess, ‘cause it only was about ten minutes after, after I didn’t eat. At least I stopped crying by then. My thumb still hurt, though.

-

I felt like an idiot, and I couldn't think about what was happening. Or understand. Or even if it was the same stuff as all month. Or even if the lady was real. I mean, what I thought.

Dennis was kinda quiet when he sat on his bed and just looked at my card.

I was laying down and trying not to get sadder, or more scared, or suck my thumb, or anything. But I was thinking a thousand miles an hour, in circles.

It felt like smaller and smaller circles.

Two days it had happened, and that never happened before, so much, ever, except what happens to everyone.

“She thought you were... in trouble... or something...”

I tried not to scream, or yell, or cry. I guess he didn’t see, ‘cause he was still looking at my card when I finally could peek.

“... said I should get this back to you...”

He made a tiny noise with the card and moved.

“She said... asked if... if I did something to... you....” He looked down again, his voice. He sounded hurt.

I was too scared to say anything, even though I was really awfully sad then that I made him feel like that, that she’d say that, that he... he’d... I closed my eyes and covered my face with my arm. It was all too hard.
He didn’t move or anything, ‘cause I could hear.

“I...”

He breathed.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

He kinda trailed off. I squeezed my eyes shut really hard.

“Bobby?”

He didn’t sound mad, or like... or anything bad. More like he was checking if I was listening.

I unsqueezed my eyes a bit and moved my arm to around my mouth, but I still wanted to stay hidden. I hid my mouth.

“I don’t know...” I opened my eyes and looked at the ceiling. “Yesterday... it feels like *everyone* is... looking at me... and they are!”

I looked over at him. He was shaking his head no. I looked back up.

“I keep looking and they’re looking... but I’m not...” I started to breathe faster and I think I was afraid to say the words, as if they’d be more real. I couldn’t tell him....

“At lunch... this guy... and, and...”

I put my arm back up again and started to cry more, my eyes, anyway. I was so frustrated. And then I was ashamed. I had to keep hiding my mouth so I put my other hand on my eyes.

“And now... that lady, and... I’ve only been here... they don’t even KNOW!!”

I rolled over and hid against the wall and started to really cry ‘cause it wasn’t fair and I wasn’t *doing* anything!

And then I remembered Dennis was there and he was a guy, and even if he wasn’t there, *I* was a guy, and I was crying but I was almost quiet... I tried to stop, really hard...

And I said that...

I felt him touch my shoulder a second.

Oh god.

I sort of choked and made myself disappear into the crack between the wall and my bed and...

He started to rub my back a bit and I lost it completely. I felt him sit on my bed and I jerked, and he stood up and stopped touching me and I think he left after just a few more seconds, but I was trying with all my soul to die and I’m not sure.

-

I slept for about an hour, or the clock said, anyway. At least Dennis wasn’t there. And I had to go to class, late. So I had to stop crying. I wasn’t when I woke up.

I peeked out the door before I left, I was so afraid of seeing anyone. I felt like a liar. A pervert. I felt like I didn’t belong there, and anyone who saw me would know.

Fridays all I had was one huge class, Bio 102 and lab B, and I *had* to go because it was our first real lab that week, and I had to go. Even an hour late.

-

Two hours later I'd been almost able to forget about everything by being confused and worried and afraid about bio instead. And my fingers hurt from writing. My thumb was bruised in the joint. My hardest class.

The prof said the labs would be really hard, too. He said “challenging.”

Raymond, the TA who was going to be instructing the lab section I was in, took us over to show us the lab room and our lockers and review all the lab assignments and stuff, and handed out *huge* piles of photocopied lab assignments, or experiments or whatever. He said we had to to read them all, or have each one read before the lab, anyway, and he went through the whole lab schedule and then, just before we were finished, after almost another hour of paper and worry, he read off all the lab partners according to some list thing he had and matched me up with a *huge*, I mean, like *really* muscled woman named Lori who looked like a trucker and was about ten years or more older than me and smiled really nice.

But we weren’t... I mean, almost everyone else seemed to already know each other. I mean, their partners. I didn't remember any lab partner choosing choice thing from any class.

Anyway, I went to ask Raymond, the TA, about the schedule stuff (I think I had about thirty weeks worth of stuff for twenty weeks of lab) and about Lori.

He said to a few of us that a bunch of the labs were doubled up some weeks, and before I could figure out what I should ask about Lori he kinda pulled me over to him, or motioned, or leaned closer, and whispered.

“Bobby, Lori’ll make sure nobody hassles you about anything, okay?” He smiled at me like he was really pleased.

I was thinking, he knew me?

“She’s a nice woman and a good student, and a friend, okay?”

And he kinda stood up more and smiled at me really nice and looked another little question “okay?” at me too.

I was too confused to do anything more than kinda nod back... but then I was thinking, I was gonna be hassled? And Lori was a woman.... And I felt almost scared again. I felt scared. I felt really scared.

I got all my stuff back together, which was hard ‘cause I was trying to hide and I felt almost sick, and when I turned around and tried to pull my pack on, Lori was on a lab stool about two feet away and looking at me and smiled a little one and hiked my pack up for me and said “See you next week, okay, hon?”

She smiled more, bye, and walked out and waved at Raymond, who smiled back at her and then at me too.

I was feeling like in the cafeteria again, even if it wasn’t the same because they didn’t scare me like everyone else had. I wasn’t scared of *them*. But I was really scared.

Lori and Raymond knew me, and looked at me. The looks were differnet, but they were the... they looked at me.

After about ten minutes in the washroom trying to stop shaking, I had to go over to see if Ben was in. I didn’t think I could tell him what I wanted to, but I wanted to see him.

I went back to the dorm to drop off my pack ‘cause it weighed about twenty pounds, and it was almost on the way. It was on the way if you walked around all the busy parts.

The room door was already open and I had a little heart attack and almost went and hid, but I thought I was being crazy and I peeked and Dennis was sitting on his bed reading.

He looked up and saw me, so I went in and tried not to look. . .like I was. I was still too scared.

“Hey.”

He folded the paperback on his finger and kinda sat up a bit. He looked really sad.

“Hi...”

I put my pack on my bed and sat down on the chair at my desk. I looked at my hands and turned red, ‘cause then I was really remembering about crying. I think I even thought how do you say sorry for crying? I started to shake again.

“Bobby...”

I looked and he was looking at his own hands too. I looked up more. He did too, at me, and he was red. I thought he was mad.

“Look... Bobby...”

I was gonna say something snarky like “Don’t wear it out...” ‘cause I was scared, but I knew I shouldn’t and felt bad for even thinking it. I’m shit.

“I’m really sorry about this morning.”

I looked at him hard for a sec, I think ‘cause that’s what I was going to say before. Wished I could say.

He looked more at me then, too, and he was really, really... sad.

“I was stupid and I’m sorry.”

I almost said something then, like “What?” but he went on, really fast.

“And I know I shouldn’t have touched you or sat on your bed, without asking, and I’m *really* sorry and I won’t again and I’ll understand if you want to move or get another roomie but I’d like to... still, um, try, if it’s okay with you?”

He was looking at me like I was gonna hit him and he kept talking fast. “I mean, if it’s okay with you? I mean about rooming? I mean, I like you and I want to be your, your... friend and... I’m sorry?”

I looked at him like he’d already hit me, and couldn’t think. I had *no* idea what he was talking about. He looked down.

“I mean, I’d like to...”

Right then Jarrod, who I had kinda been avoiding ‘cause he was... I don’t know.... Anyway, he poked his head in the open door right then and looked at us like we were being too loud or something.

“Everything okay?”

He looked at Dennis, anyway, so I was wondering what... I wasn’t wondering fast enough to figure out what. Dennis had his head ducked down.

“Are you alright, Bobby?” Jarrod looked at me and was different. I thought of Ben for a second. I closed my eyes.

“Bobby?”

It wasn’t the same voice. There was a girl right behind him who I remembered was the proctor in the other wing on our floor, the girl’s wing. Jarrod kinda moved to the side and opened the door more and she came in a bit.

She had on the dumb “Proctor” shirt they all wore for the orientation stuff and I remembered her name was Anne and she was looking at me like I was still crying. Crying gain.

"... "

I figured out right then that Dennis had TOLD them, and I got really mad and more scared and a hundred other emotions that make you red and I figured out that was why he was apologizing ‘cause he had *TOLD* everyone! And everyone was laughing about me all day while I was gone to class and I was going to have to leave...

Mom and Dad... they’d tell me to stay and I couldn’t, so I couldn’t call them... I thought... I really didn’t think.... I just knew this was what it was all about....

It was all over.

Anne came in and sat on my bed and touched my knee on the side and Dennis and Jarrod left and closed the door, all at the same time, and I guess they were talking or something, but I don’t remember.

“It’s okay, it’s okay...”

She was trying to calm me down or something but what did she know? They were going to laugh at me and call me names and I couldn’t stand that ever again.

I hadn’t cried in years where anyone could ever see, even when Princess got sick and I held her when the vet put her to sleep, and I still held it in until I was in my room and then was quiet so nobody knew.

I shouldn’t have thought of her just then, ‘cause I started to feel like she was getting still again and stopped purring...

I cut my legs, then. For weeks. I was remembering that. I wanted to. How it hurt.

Anne hugged me really hard and said it was okay and nobody could hear me.

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End of Part Three