Nothing to Worry About

I’m so happy that Eric and I are friends again.

As soon as I step foot out of my eighth period English class, he’s already waiting outside for me, leaning up against the wall by the door. With a huge grin on his face, he trots over and leans down to playfully headbutt me in the chest, I grunt lightly and push his head away. He stumbles on his feet, laughing, then collects himself and walks beside me down the hall, slipping his arm around my shoulder.

“How did you get here so fast? The bell just rang.”

“I left early. Three guys started fighting so I just slipped out, Mrs. Singer didn’t even notice.”

We weave between other kids heading to the stairs. We eventually reach a narrow strip of empty space on the descent to the first floor. Eric, towering over me, takes the lead as I reach up and hold onto his shoulder to follow him close behind. While he stomps down the stairs, he bumps into and pushes past other kids. They mutter their complaints amongst one another, I hear some slurs thrown at us but I ignore it. We reach the end of the first set of stairs and Eric invites me to hop onto his back, which I agree to. Once my arms are wrapped around his neck and my legs are hooked around his waist, he bolts downstairs, bouncing me on his back with each step he takes.

I met Eric Price when I was in sixth grade. My mom allowed me to begin socially transitioning that year at the recommendation of my therapist. I did really well that year, I made the honor roll and I felt much more comfortable socializing with the other kids. However, I got bullied way more than I ever had before. I tried my hardest to take it as some sort of initiation process, the boys that always left me alone prior to my transition finally started paying attention to me. Not the attention I wanted, they took my desire to be seen as male as an invitation to get physically violent with me. But they never hit girls, so they must have seen me as a boy. I fought for my life to stay optimistic about that.

Due to the harassment, I spent a lot of time in the front office. Not because I was ever in trouble but because I had a ton of statements to write. Eric happened to always be in the office at the same time I was. It was maybe my fourth trip to the front office that I actually began talking to him. He was a bully, but never to me. Maybe it was because I spoke to him first, maybe because I was nice to him, I never really asked why specifically he saw something different in me. We had no classes together and I never heard of him before, but he vaguely knew of me as ‘the trans kid’ prior to our meeting. That fact didn’t bother him at all, he still wanted to be my friend.

We spent time together before school, we ate lunch together, we would wander around outside together after school as we waited for our moms to pick us up, and we’d have some weekend hangouts. In seventh grade, we had a couple classes together and were basically inseparable. My mom thought he had a crush on me but I feel like we mutually needed each other in our lives.

In eighth grade, Eric got in big trouble. He got into a fight with this other kid, a football player. Eric ended up throwing him down a flight of stairs and giving him a concussion. He got suspended and spent the rest of the year in an alternative school. I don’t know if the parents of the other kid pressed charges or not, I never asked about it. When my mom found out about what had happened, she decided that I was done being friends with him. She took my phone and deleted Eric’s contact, then called his mother and politely requested she keep him away from me. We argued, I cried, she said I didn’t need to keep someone so aggressive in my life and that I’d understand when I was older. 

We’re about halfway through our freshman year, he was able to come back to school a few months ago. I was the only person he sought out and I was thrilled to have him back. He gave me his new phone number and we went back to normal almost instantly, but we just never told our moms that we were friends again. I’ll tell her eventually. Probably next year.

He leaps from the second-to-last step onto the first floor, then gallops towards the row of doors marking the school’s entrance. I expect him to carry me outside, but instead he takes a sharp right and dashes off into the boy’s bathroom with me still clinging to his back. After the door shuts, he checks for a lock on the door but can’t find one. To my surprise, the bathroom is completely empty. He grumbles to himself, but briskly delivers me to the handicapped stall and finally lets me off, locking the door behind him. The frigid twinge of anxiety shoots through my veins as he eases towards me.

“Eric… The principal already talked to me about this, I’m not allowed to be in here.”

He chuckles, “No one’s here, Kory. We’re not doing anything, you’re not gonna get in trouble. Look, I need to tell you something but you have to keep it a secret, okay? Don’t tell anyone.”

I sway uneasily on my feet, but I nod.

A devilish little smirk creeps across his face. He places his rugged hand on my shoulder and leans in close before he whispers in my ear, “I’m gonna kill my dad this weekend.”

I’m stunned by this. Not only by the ring of confidence in his hushed voice, but for the entire four years I’ve known him he never once mentioned that he even had a dad. 

He pulls away and I can feel my eyebrows scrunched close together as I stare into him. I don’t know what face I’m making at him but it’s apparently funny as he bursts out laughing.

I’m at a loss for words but I manage to string together, “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. I’ve been planning it for a while, tomorrow’s the big day!”

“Dude, I didn’t even know that you had a dad. Is this really the way you bring him up to me for the first time?”

“Yup. I don’t wanna get into it, but I never mentioned him before for some very good reasons. While I was at the alternative school, my dad took my mom to court and forced her to change their custody arrangement. I’ve gotta see this fucker every other weekend now and I can’t stand it. I’m gonna kill him.”

“What’re you even gonna do to him? The cops will know it’s you.”

He laughs, “No, they won’t. The last time I was over there, I was doing homework on his laptop and I got onto his docs and I found an unfinished suicide note he wrote a few weeks ago. All I need to do is wait until he goes out to the bar, finish the note and print it out, then wait. He’s gonna come home and crash on the couch, I’m gonna get the pistol he keeps in his bedroom, line it up right, shoot him in the head, set the note out, then call the cops on Saturday and report a suicide.”

I always knew he had some violent tendencies, but I never thought he would plan something like that out and tell me about it so casually.

I stammer out, “W-What about your fingerprints? What about your DNA?”

“I’ll wear gloves. DNA isn’t gonna matter. I live there part time, my DNA will be there anyways.” 

“The cops are gonna suspect you if they know you’ve got a bad relationship with him.”

“Okay? I read the note, he wrote it after he found out his fiancée cheated on him. It never mentions me. If they suspect me, then they suspect me. That’s not a guarantee they’ll arrest me, their eyes are gonna be on his ex.”

“What if he doesn’t go out? What if he stays home?”

Eric scoffs, “My dad has gone out drinking every Friday night since I was born. Even if he doesn’t, he’s just gonna get shit-faced at the house.”

“Well, what about-”

“Kory, quit it. Here, take a look at this.”

Eric digs around in the pocket of his baggy jeans and pulls out a little journal. It’s not even five inches long but nearly three inches thick with how puffy the pages have gotten. He holds it out to me and with one thumb he flips through the pages.

“I have filled this book cover to cover with how I’m gonna pull this off. Once I’m done, I’m gonna burn it. I promise you, I’ve thought of everything. I will be fine. You have nothing to worry about. The only person I’m telling about this is you, I don’t trust anyone like I trust you.”

I’m still processing this as my phone rings. I fish it out of my pocket and see my mom is calling me.

“Shit, my mom is here. I gotta go.”

I brush past him and unlock the stall door, I stride out. He calls out a goodbye to me, which I parrot back at him. Tears are welling up in my eyes as I exit the boy’s room.

“Kory, are you okay?”

I finally realize that my arms are crossed and my legs are tightly squeezed together, my foot still managing to bounce frantically. I slowly unfurl myself and meet my mother’s concerned gaze.

“I’m fine…”

She pulls up in the driveway. I unlock my door but my mom clicks it locked from her side. I sigh and turn to face her.

“Did something happen at school? You didn’t say a word the entire ride home. I know when something’s wrong with you, what’s up?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, mom.”

I unlock the door and my mom clicks it locked again.

“Kory, we are not leaving this car until you tell me what’s wrong. I’m serious.”

My bottom lip starts to twitch. I sniff and take a deep breath before I ask, “Do you remember Eric Price?”

Her face falls, a scowl quickly taking form as she growls, “I wish I didn’t.”

“Well… We’re still friends. Today, when I was waiting for you to pick me up, he told me…”

I stutter a bit, her eyes plead with me to spit it out.

“He’s planning on killing his dad. He… thought about it for a while and I think he’s really gonna do it…”

She shuts her eyes and rests her head in her hand, she tries to muffle a groan by twisting her lips inward.

“What else?”

My voice breaks as I answer, “He showed me this journal he had where he wrote everything about the plan down. He told me not to tell anybody…”

The lock on the door finally clicks open.

“That’s all I needed to know. Get out.”

She pulls her phone out and I see her tap on her contacts before she steps out of the car. My entire body is trembling, but I force myself out the door. I trudge up the driveway and stand beside her as she unlocks the front door, scrolling through her contact list.

She shakes her head as she fumbles with the keys in her free hand, “I am so disappointed in you for reconnecting with that little ogre.”

She pushes the front door open and we both step inside. She continues her lecture.

“What is this fascination you have with that boy? Does that make you feel more masculine to be associated with him? It shouldn’t, Eric is awful! I can’t even believe you. You’re a sweet boy, why can’t you get better friends?”

I peer over at her phone and see the contact she was searching for. Melinda Price. Fuck, she’s gonna call his mom.

I reach out to try and grab her phone, she swats my hand away and hightails it to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. 

I jiggle the doorknob and pound on the door, shouting, “Mom, please don’t call Melinda!”

“Go to your room! We’ll talk about this later!”

I pace back and forth in my bedroom, gripping the hair on my scalp so tightly I feel like I’m gonna rip it out. I collapse on my bed with a thud, landing on my back, then I pull my phone out and check if Eric texted me. Nothing. I open our messages and text him.

I fucked up. My mom knew something was wrong, I had to tell her. I’m so sorry. 

Four soft raps ring out from my bedroom door. I slip my phone underneath my pillow as the door creaks open. My mom walks over and sits down next to me on the bed, she rests her hand on my thigh.

“I explained everything to Melinda. There’s not much she can do about it because Eric’s father picked him up from school today and she won’t be seeing him until Sunday night. She assured me that her son is physically no match for his father, which is… alarming. Melinda is not concerned about it at all, she says Eric is in an edgy phase right now and she’s confident he’s not going to try anything with his dad. It’s nothing to worry about.”

I don’t say anything to her, I’m lying motionless on my back and staring at the ceiling. My mom pats my thigh.

“I’m sorry for being so insistent that you tell me, but you did the right thing. Once he’s back with his mom I’m sure they’re going to have a long, serious talk about it. Everything will be fine.”

She flashes me a closed-lip grin then gets up and walks out of my room. None of what she said reassured me. I feel like my heart is trying to claw its way out of my chest. 

I haven’t heard anything from Eric all weekend. It’s Sunday morning, I’m passively grazing on a bowl of cereal while my mom watches the news in the living room. I’m scrolling through videos on my phone, desperate to take my mind off of what could be happening with him and his dad.

“An update on a breaking story, Horizon News Network has been able to attain a brief statement from Leander Dalton, father of the missing fifteen year old Eric Price.”

I whip my head around and face the television. I drop my spoon, milk splatters onto the tablecloth. I rise from my chair and feel myself float into the living room. My mom’s eyes are wide and her mouth conceals her lips as she stares at a recent photo of Eric and Melinda plastered on the screen.

The disembodied voice of the newscaster elaborates, “Eric Price was reported missing by his father late Saturday night under unusual circumstances. Leander Dalton has been cooperative with police and agreed to speak with our network about the situation.”

The screen cuts to Leander standing on his front porch. He’s a massive, brawny, bearded man. His folded arms are covered in tattoos. He’s wearing sunglasses but I can still tell he’s not looking directly at the camera. He clears his throat, his voice is low and hoarse as if he had been screaming.

“I picked up my son from school on Friday. He recently started living with me on some weekends, so he hasn’t gotten used to bringing the key to my house with him. He gets in my truck, I ask if he has his keys, he says yes. I tell him to show me, he reaches in his pocket and pulls his keys out and this little journal pops out with them. I pick it up, I read some of it and I realize that he had written out a plan to murder me. What the hell am I supposed to do with that? I slip it in my pocket and I drive him to my house. When we get home, I sit him down and we have a long talk about what he wrote in that journal. I set him straight, he’s all flustered but he apologizes and he goes to bed early. The next day, I try to talk to him but his door is locked. He keeps to himself, I respect that, I leave him alone. I go out and get dinner, then when I bring it to his room the door is still locked and he’s not answering me. I break the door down and I see that the window is open. He left his phone, he left his keys, he left everything. I don’t know where the hell he ran off to but I’m extremely worried about him. If you have any information about Eric’s whereabouts, please contact local law enforcement.”

Leander nods, indicating his statement is over. He drums his fingers on his swollen bicep before the screen switches back to the newscasters. The air is snatched out of my lungs. I’ll never know this man but I feel like he’s lying. Would Eric do that, let the journal just slip out? Did Melinda call him and give him a heads up? Is this my fault? Did I ruin my friend’s life? Did I end it? I finally register that my face is drenched with tears. I fall to my knees, curl up in a ball, and an animalistic scream leaks out from the gaps between my clenched teeth.