I had to watch as they tormented him.
It's not his fault, I wanted to scream. Not his fault. Never his fault. Never anyone's fault except the person who did it to him.
I had to watch, invisible, as they punched and kicked and jeered at him in the corridors, calling him names and laughing at him for something that somebody else did to him.
I hated them as I watched. Hated them for being me, for lashing out at what they didn't understand. For hurting someone with their own stupidity. Hated them for what their parents made them and what the world shaped them to be and the things they made of themselves.
Mostly, I hated myself for being them. For being powerless to help James.
That's what broke me: being powerless to help once my time is up. Having to watch as I wasn't enough, having to watch history repeat itself.
As he left that school for the last time, left the place where he was raped and then broken for someone else's sin, I made a promise.
I promised myself that I would never grow attached to these kids again. It may have been selfish, but I couldn't sit back and watch the world crush yet another person. Couldn't watch as another life was ruined - maybe even another life ended - because of me.
I never knew what happened to him.
Until today. I gave my leather jacket to Theo ages ago, so now he's buried in layers of fabric and puffed up like a teddy bear. The thin button-up I'm wearing over a t-shirt does nothing to block out the wind but I don't want him to know this so I hold back every shiver.
We hold hands again, even after I've removed my jacket. I'm scared and angry and terrified of the seconds of darkness that come with closing my eyes, but every time I feel his pulse and the shift of his fingers in mine and the rise and fall of his shoulders... I'm okay.
He lets go of me when his phone starts ringing.
Theo holds the device out in front of him and I can see that it's his father calling.
Lewis.
And he looked familiar.
I still don't know what to believe.
The picture is a photo of a photograph: a man, clearly Theo's dad, holding hands with a beautiful black woman wearing a wedding dress. In the picture, she's just starting to show and she's smiling so widely and so brightly. Theo's father looks handsome and happy, a stark contrast to the man we left behind in that house.
Funny how things can go so wrong.
"What do I do?" Theo asks.
"Answer it," I say quietly. "You can hang up if you need to." A droplet of water lands on my nose. Theo swipes to answer the call and puts it on speaker, wiping away the first traces of rain with his sleeve.
"...Dad?"
"Your mother used to take you to the park when we argued," Theo's father says, without so much as an introduction or apology. His voice shakes. "She said that we should never let you get caught up in our messes. Never shelter you but never force you into the worst parts of the world and the worst parts of us.
"So... I'm sorry. That I let you get caught up in my mess. You're my son. And you always will be."
Theo's face tightens. He bites his lip and wipes away the tears that begin to fall with a shaky hand.
It takes a while for him to answer, so much that his father asks if he's still at the other end of the line. But when Theo does speak, his voice is sure and strong and it makes me burn with affection.
"I can't forgive you immediately. But you tried. So I'll... try."
"Thank you."
Theo nods, like he's steeling himself. "Okay."
"Before you go... can I talk to Evan?"
He remembers me.
How? Nobody has before.
(I came back. Things are changing.)
(I can't let myself hope.)
Theo looks at me, startled. He slowly hands the phone over to me. I take it off speaker, raising the device to my ear and avoiding Theo's betrayed gaze.
"...Is that you?"
"It's me," I say quietly. "It's me, James."
A sob echoes through the other end of the phone. "How... how are you here?"
"I've been here for a long time." It's only then that I realise I'm crying, too. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to go. I'm sorry for what they did to you. What he did."
James Lewis just cries.
"But you have to be there for your son, James. The world's cruel and harsh and people are crueler and harsher - but none of that is his fault. You have to be there for him."
He sniffs. "I'll... try."
I nod. "That's all I'm asking for. Take care of him, James. And take care of yourself." I hang up and wipe my eyes.
As I hand the phone back to Theo, he takes my hand and holds it so tightly that I wince.
"Was he one of your souls?" he asks quietly. "My dad?"
I nod.
"Why? What did he need you for?"
I shake my head, slipping the phone into Theo's hand and letting mine fall to my side. "It's not my place to tell you."
Theo's eye darken but then he nods and slips his phone into his pocket without a word. The rain is picking up. I close my eyes and let the drops fall on my face, begging that they'll stay and that I won't open my eyes to the dark grey ceiling of the school.
Because, despite
existing a little more now (Georgia saw me. James saw me) I feel like loose ends are being tied up.
I feel like our time together is coming to a close. But I'm not ready to let go. "Where are we going?" I ask quietly.
"The park." Autumn leaves crunch underfoot, dance from trees as we walk down to the empty park hand in hand. The place where he let me in for the first time.
He's beautiful. I watch him, now. Take every inch of him in, just in case this is the last time I'll get to look.
He wants to seem small, I think, burying himself in overlarge jackets and hunching his shoulders so he doesn't draw attention to himself. But in some moments he stands so tall that it's like the cruel world has stopped to watch him. And those are the moments where I care about him the most.
We sit on the swings just like we did a month ago, letting go of each other in order to do so. Theo pushes away from the ground with his toes and swings back and forth gently, pushing back his hood and shaking some of the water out of his hair.
"It's been quite the day," he says, laughing listlessly.
The sun has started to dip. Where have those hours gone?
I nod in agreement, then decide to drop the bomb.
"I think I'm going to go, soon."
Theo looks at me, sharply. He stands up.
"No, you're not." He says it flatly, like a fact.
I smile up at him, sadly. "Don't you feel it? I'm slipping. You're holding me here and I'm still slipping."
Theo looks thunderstruck. After being frozen for a moment, he shakes his head and kneels in front of me. He grabs my arms desperately, forcing me to look at him.
"No. I don't feel shit. You're not going anywhere - not again."
I smile down at him. "You don't need my help anymore. You can work things out with James or go and live with Georgia and pass your exams and live a good life. And I'll go. It's okay," I lie. "You don't need my help anymore."
Theo leans up. He rests his elbows on my legs. He cups my jaw with his warm, living hands. He shakes his head violently.
"You're right. I don't need your help."
He looks into my eyes. He's bright and living and beautiful and burning.
And he says: "I just need you."
I just need you.
I feel alive and fizzing and desperate as I lean forward and kiss him with everything I have.
He's shocked at first and falls back onto the grass. Then his senses catch up and he leans into me, holding me against him with a fierceness that turns my mind to crackling heat. He kisses me back so forcefully that I actually gasp.
I slide off the swing and end up on his lap, knees on either side of his hips. I cup his jaw and turn his face up to mine and kiss him with every fucking thing I've got. I tangle my fingers in his hair like I've wanted to for ages and laugh when they get trapped. We laugh together.
And I think, finally.
But the moment Theo has to come away to breathe, reality hits me. And I remember him. And I remember what I did.
I scramble off Theo's lap, pushing him away (again) even though it hurts and landing on my elbows in the damp grass. Theo looks down at me, breathing heavily and bright-eyed with kissing me.
I kissed Theo.
Holy fuck, I kissed him.
What have I done?
"What's wrong?" Theo asks, breathless. His smile is beginning to fall. "Did I... do something wrong?" I clasp my hand over my mouth to stifle the sob that catches in my throat. Shaking my head violently, I sit up and hold my knees to my chest. I hide my head in them, unable to look at him. I don't deserve to look at him...
"Evan, it's okay," Theo says earnestly. "It's okay! You don't have to be scared. It's okay."
He shouldn't be comforting me.
"No, it's not okay. It's not okay." Sobs burst through my dead body. They're harsh and tearing and contain almost five decades worth of grief and self-loathing.
"I'm terrible. I haven't told you - I couldn't - because I'm evil. I did something terrible, Theo."
"What do you mean?" Theo asks. Sounding, for the first time, cautious. Afraid of me. "What do you mean?"
"There was another boy."
(I can't tell him. I can't.)
(I have to. He deserves that much.)
(I can't.)
(I've been trying to forget for so long.)
(I have to tell him.)
"There was another boy." I say. And as I do, it hits me all over again. "Forty-five years ago. And... I killed him." It's both a relief and an agony to say it again, after four and a half decades of denial. "He killed himself. Because of me."
"His name was Matthew. And he killed himself. And... it's all my fault."
Theo's silent for a while. After a few minutes of absolute terror, I look up. He's staring at me, mouth open and eyes like flint.
"Tell me, Evan," he says, cold and sharp. "Tell me everything."