Chapter Fifty-Eight

Isaac

I didn’t get this. I didn’t get this at all. I’m not entirely sure I could have. Maybe after all that time I was finally truly beyond understanding anything that came out of Taylor’s mouth or the reasons behind any of his actions. There was really no reason to after all, was there? So much had changed and we had been flung around so many emotional corners, sometimes not completely avoiding hitting the walls, that maybe it was just beyond sense and understanding at this point.

But the thing was, that I had thought that I was finally beginning to understand again. Ever since Taylor had told us, finally, about what happened in Rochester...it had gone back to being very much like the way it was before. We understood each other again. We could talk to each other again. There wasn’t even any fall out from my pressure on him to tell. We could be around each other again and it didn’t feel awkward. Even when we talked about Parker. Only a little when we talked about Annie.

And now he had gone and made things weird again. It was like having a fist put through the mirror of a fantasy amidst torture. A comforting dream within a veritable nightmare. I couldn’t pretend I had finally come to accept all that Taylor had himself accepted from nearly the beginning of this because it was changing again. And there was the wall as I was turning the corner and my face was heading straight for it.

“Ike?” Taylor’s voice came curiously and concerned from the doorway of the room. I couldn’t unclench my teeth long enough to answer. “Ike, what’s wrong?”

What the hell did he think was wrong?

I turned to him finally, pausing in my pacing across the length of the room, staring him in the eye with intensity. I pointed a stiff finger at him and the accusation came out before I even knew what I was going to say.

“You,” I said, “can’t keep screwing with me like this.”

And then I resumed my pacing, staring at the walls instead of his hurt expression. I had seen more than my fill of his face contorted into that pained look he got whenever you said something that hurt him. Frankly, I was sick of it.

“What do you mean screwing with you?” he asked.

“What I mean is pick a damn side, Taylor,” I said without pausing in my pacing. “How much time have you spent here trying to convince us of just how much you enjoy being with Annie and how much she enjoys having you with her and now you’re going back on all of it. You can’t do that. Going back and forth like this. Pick a damn place and stay there and stop screwing with our emotions, especially when we think that we’ve just been able to accept that, for all intents and purposes, you weren’t going to come back home permanently.”

“Do you not want me to come home?” he asked.

“I never wanted you to leave! That’s the point!” I said, though I wasn’t so sure it was. I couldn’t find a point to this because I didn’t understand it. “But you did. You left for months. I don’t think I need to tell you how much that sucked. And now it’s all for nothing. All the attempts I have made at accepting and understanding what you did by choosing Annie over us are for nothing because you’re coming back.”

“Screw you, Isaac,” he said after a minute between clenched teeth. “I never picked sides and I have no intention of doing so. What I’ve been trying to do is to find a happy in between place and that really hasn’t been working. I’m not coming back here to screw with you all or because I think it’ll make the majority of the people I’m trying to please happier...”

“Then why are you coming back, Taylor?” I asked.

“Because you guys are here,” he said. “You are my family. I need you right now. I need Annie, too, but not in the same way. I’m done running away, Isaac. I need you guys now.”

That stopped my pacing at least. He needed us.

“Running?” I said dumbly.

“I’ve been running away from this for so long,” he said. “Frankly, it was kind of easy. Everyone was so busy concentrating on the entire Parker situation or being mad at me for going with Annie that day. Annie didn’t know me well enough and wasn’t comfortable enough with me yet to ask questions. I never had to talk about it if I didn’t want to. I had dreams, but they were usually forgotten by the next afternoon. No one really ever asked me about it. Now...Now I have to deal with it, whether I like it or not. And Annie’s still not comfortable enough with me to ask questions. You guys know how to make me. You guys know when to make me. I need that now. I need someone to ask.”

I stared for a minute, my anger momentarily forgotten.

He shuffled his feet and after a minute, when I didn’t say anything, went on.

“That was what the knife in the bathroom was for, you know,” he said. “So someone would ask. That dream that night was...just so vivid. I knew I couldn’t...do it anymore. But nobody really asked me. I wanted someone to ask me.”

“But when I did...,” I said.

“I don’t think I was quite prepared for someone thinking that I was suicidal or into self mutilation,” he said a bit wryly. “Or at least, if the topic was brought up for a discussion, I didn’t think that would be the first thing to come out before I even got a chance to say anything about my side of the story. I got scared. And I got mad because for a minute there, it didn’t seem like you got it.”

“Should I feel like an idiot?” I said.

“Do you?” he asked.

“A little,” I said. “After all, Parker was smart enough to know that steak knives are not commonly used tools for self mutilation and other such activities.”

He shrugged. “You didn’t,” he said. “You asked, though. So don’t feel like an idiot. Or at least too much of one.”

“I guess I have to work on my tact,” I said.

“I could have dodged tact,” he said. “I couldn’t have dodged that. Not really. Not after a while anyway.”

We stood in silence for a minute.

“I see,” I said. “How does Annie feel about you coming back here?”

“She knows that I depend more on your guys than I feel comfortable depending on her,” was all he said on that matter, though his eyes lowered to the floor and I got the impression that he wasn’t really sure how she felt on the matter.

“And Mom and Dad?”

“Happy, I think,” he said. “At least Dad’s become human again since I first told them. He doesn’t speak to me in monosyllables anymore.”

I nodded. “Zac knew?”

“He saw me talking with Annie about it in the car the other day,” he said. “He asked and I told him.”

“So I’m the last to know?” I said.

“No. Jessica, Avery, and Mackenzie are the last to know,” he said, beginning to grin. “You and Parker are the second last to know.”

I nodded. “Okay,” I said, sitting down on the bed. “I think that makes me feel better about it.”

“Do you understand, though?” he asked worriedly.

“As much as I think I can,” I said.

“That’s all I ask,” he replied.

“Does this mean I’m going to have to put up with all your tossing and turning in your sleep again?”

Whose reaction do you think was more realistic--Zac's or Isaac's?
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Nine