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“Wake up! Face what you’ve done.” His father says, right before they go inside. Neil hopes this is all a nightmare–he’ll wake up in the morning, in bed, and smile at Todd before they have to get ready for the day.
He’ll wake up, and tonight will be the first showing of the play. His father will be in Chicago. His father won’t drag him home to his mom–his mother, who won’t do anything against his father, lest he turn his anger on her.
Lest he hurt Neil worse.
She won’t (can’t, the part of Neil that refuses to be angry with her whispers) even leave him.
He doesn’t get a moment of silence, a moment of peace, once they’re inside.
All about defiance, and military school, and Harvard, like he’s supposed to want to live the life his father wishes he had.
Neil whispers, more to himself than his parents, “I’m not like you. I don’t want to follow the path you’ve set for me.”
He doesn’t look at his father as his eyes narrow with anger, doesn’t glance at his mom as her eyes grow wide with fear.
If not for the hands at his throat, Neil wouldn’t have realized that they’d heard him.
He tries to pry his father’s hands away, tries to breathe, tries to–
Take it back? That would be a lie.
Tries to find his mom as his vision blurs, so he sees her face last instead of his father’s.
She’s gone–not where he thought she was standing.
She’s left the room. His mother couldn’t stand to watch this, and couldn’t stand to stop it, either.
Neil swallows under his father’s hands and lets his body go limp.
He drops to the ground at the same time his father does.
“Neil, Neil, are you alright?” His mother cradles his face gently, the way she did when he was small. “Breathe, please, Neil.”
He can’t. Well, he can, physically.
He stares at the heap his father makes on the floor.
“Mom–” His voice is hoarse, lower than he’s ever heard it. There’s no way he’s going to be able to play Puck tomorrow even if his father would allow it. “–Mom, did you kill him?”
“I don’t think so.” She says, but she doesn’t seem interested in checking. “Never mind what your father says. I want to see you in this play, too.”
“Why didn’t you come with him tonight, then?”
“He didn’t let me.”
“Why now?” He should stop talking, he knows. It’s only going to make his voice worse. “Why–”
“Because he’s never gone so far as to kill you before.” She whispers. “He promised he wouldn’t, if I’d let him have his way of raising you, no matter how much I disagreed.”
“Mom–”
“Stop talking,” She says. “I was going to be a nurse, before I married your father. Not that he wanted a working wife. We’re going to the hospital.”
“Mom, I can’t drive.”
“I can. Your father’s not the one going to the shops every week, Neil.”
“Shouldn’t we–” Call someone for his father? Make sure he’s breathing? Neil doesn’t know what he wants to say. Doesn’t know what he wants to be true.
“I’ll send the neighbor over.” His mom says. Her hands shake when she helps him up, and they shake when she knocks on the neighbor’s door–Neil doesn’t remember his name–and asks him if he’ll ‘please check on her husband while she gets her son seen to’, and he agrees, looking a little shocked when he sees Neil behind her.
Neil sits through a lot of questions–there’s not much they can do for his neck but put bruise cream on it. They don’t allow his mom to stay in the room.
“Where do you go to school?” A nurse asks. She’s about his mom’s age, with tired eyes, but she’s smiling at him anyway.
“Welton.” He tells her; his voice hasn’t gotten any better in the past hour, but it hasn’t gotten any worse, either.
“What are you doing home, then? I didn’t think you lot were on term break yet.”
“We’re not. Next week.” He says. “I’m in the play, at Henley Hall.”
“Oh, are you? I switched a few hours of my shift with someone to go see it–my daughter’s in it. I hardly had eyes for anyone but her, who do you play?”
“Puck.” He whispers. “I don’t think I’ll be able to tomorrow.”
“Honey,” she says softly, and when he meets her eyes he thinks she’s figured it all out at once, “you were brilliant up there.”
He doesn’t meet her eyes again, but she lets his mom come back in.
“I’ll take you to Henley Hall for the show tomorrow.” She says, once the nurse has gone to make sure he can leave. “And Sunday, of course.”
“What about Welton?”
“I’ll let Nolan know you’re spending the week-end at home. You’ll be back Monday before classes.”
Neil stares at her.
“You don’t want to go back up to school with those bruises, do you?”
“They’ll still be there Monday.” Once the swelling goes down, it will probably look worse. At least, that’s what the nurse told him. “And I don’t want to go back home if Father’s there.”
“He’s not. He decided it was best he head on that Chicago business trip he’s been putting off. He called and left me a message while you were being treated.” She says it so pleasantly–Neil can’t remember the last time she spoke like that when they weren’t in public, acting out their perfect family roles for others.
“Mom.”
“That’s not for you to worry about, Neil. You just keep your grades up and have fun with your friends.”
She doesn’t say anything else about it on the drive home, or when she tucks him into bed like he’s six again.
Neil doesn’t know how long this is going to last. She hasn’t been just his mom for this long since he was little, always having to defer to his father on something or other.
She makes him breakfast in the morning–his old favorite, something she used to make every week-end and on holidays and his birthday. Something his father banned when he started attending Welton.
It hurts to swallow, but it doesn’t matter when the banana-blueberry-peanut butter-chocolate chip pancakes are soft and easy to chew. They’re not as round as they usually are, the edges a little wonky and distorted.
Talking hurts even more, and so he doesn’t. He thanks her with a nod and a smile, as big as he can manage when everything he’s ever felt is swirling around and around his body like it can’t decide where to go.
The bruises are darker than any he’s ever seen.
Would his father really have killed him, if his mom hadn’t stepped in?
The telephone rings, but Neil doesn’t bother going to answer it. He’s not going to speak until tonight, so he can do his best at the play. Mother’s already said she’s attending.
“He’s alright, Charlie.” She says, down the hall. “I can see if he’s up. He had a late night, you understand.”
Neil shakes his head when she asks if he wants to speak to Charlie. He wants to, but he can’t. Physically.
“I’ll be at the play tonight, Charlie, if you’re going I’ll see you there.” She talks to Charlie for a few more minutes, which is how Neil knows that they’re all coming again tonight.
He’s not ready for them to see him like this.
He’s not ready for anyone to see him like this.
He naps, after lunch, until his mom gets him up to go to Henley Hall.
When he steps backstage, the mood is somber. Moreso than he ever remembers it being.
“Neil!” Ginny grabs his arm. “We weren’t sure–”
“If my father would allow me back?” He finishes, when she trails off. His voice is better, though still not his. “My mom didn’t give him much of a choice. She’s coming tonight.”
“Are you going to be able to speak the whole night, Neil?” Their director asks.
“We don’t have understudies,” He shrugs, “I’ll drink water between scenes. I don’t go on until Act Two, anyway.”
“As long as you feel alright doing it.”
He changes into costume. The high collar felt it was choking him, the first time he put it on.
His castmates’ glances at his neck don’t stop, but they slow. He can take a sip of water without someone trying to parse out who the fingers on his neck belong to. He can murmur his lines to himself without someone else patting him on the shoulder or glancing at him like he’s a kicked puppy.
Aside from that first moment, Ginny doesn’t do any of those things. He knows things about her that she can never tell anyone else–one of the few nights he’d stayed behind, after rehearsal, and gotten drunk with them all.
They’d been shoved into a closet for some stupid game, their legs pretending they were on a boat rather than dry land. Neil doesn’t even remember what they were supposed to do, but they probably didn’t do it.
She’d whispered about her brother’s girlfriend, about wanting Chris in the way Chris wanted Chet.
He’d whispered about Todd, when she was done. Not his name–never his name–but about the things Neil notices about him that he doesn’t notice about other boys. Things he doesn’t notice about girls, period.
He thinks Ginny knows it’s Todd anyway, especially after last night. She must have seen him in the crowd.
They keep to each other, when they can. It’s unsafe to do anything else.
If they hadn’t been drunk, it never would have been a topic of discussion.
The show is no less thrilling than it was the night before–he gets to stick around and see his friends, after.
“Neil!” He stays in costume, crown on his head. He does take off the gloves–they’re pokey, even when you’re used to them. “You were good! Better than good!” Charlie grabs him by the shoulders.
“Your mother, she said she’d be here. Your father isn’t with her, is he?”
“No, he’s not.” His voice is a little rough–hopefully, they just decide it’s because he’s been on stage. “Just her.”
“Are you coming back with us tonight?”
“Mom wants me to spend the week-end with her, and it’s closer to Henley Hall. I’ll be back Monday before classes.”
“We only have one day of review before exams, Neil.” Cameron reminds him, and Meeks nods.
“Do you even have any of your books?”
“No, I don’t. I’ll be fine. One day of cramming with Meeks, and no one will be able to beat me.”
“Oh, come on, Neil. You’re no genius.” Charlie scoffs, but it’s fond. Knox, Pitts, and Todd are huddled together for warmth, but as soon as he looks at them, they gather around him.
“Bring us souvenirs.” Knox says, solemnly.
“From… my house?” Neil asks. “Knox, you don’t want anything from my house.”
“Bring a blanket.” Todd suggests. He’s got a handful of flowers half-hidden behind his back, though Neil’s not sure where he got them.
“Why?”
“Once I woke up and he was standing over me, still asleep, trying to steal mine.” Todd says, smiling, and Neil catches Ginny’s eye over his shoulder.
She rolls hers at him, but she’s leaning against Chris. Neil will have to remind himself to tease her about that, later. Todd turns to follow his gaze, and he won’t meet Neil’s eyes when he turns back around.
“One time at a dorm sleepover he stole Pitts.” Meeks complains.
“I did not.”
“You did! You rolled over and decided the blankets weren’t enough, and you stole Pitts.”
“It’s not my fault I’m always cold.”
Neil basks in the warmth of their smiles and praise, the way Todd won’t stop looking at him, until his mom pulls him away. Todd never does hand him the flowers, but that’s alright. Neil doesn’t have a place to put flowers, anyway.
“He’s got another performance tomorrow, boys, he needs his rest.”
He misses them all the way home, and when he’s in bed, and when he wakes up to the early afternoon sun.
Neil doesn’t have time to miss them once he gets on stage, though.
“Before I let you go to your adoring fans, I’d like to invite you all to audition for our winter term play. Another of Shakespeare’s works, though I won’t say which just yet.”
Neil cheers with everyone else, Ginny beside him. It’s just his mom waiting for him, this time, though he thinks he sees Keating slip away into the crowd.
“That teacher of yours is right. You cannot stop acting, Neil.”
“I don’t want to.” He says. “When did Keating talk to you?”
“Before you came out. He said he’ll see you in class tomorrow.”
Tomorrow, when he won’t have a high collar to protect him from the bruises he’d like to pretend aren’t there.
Tomorrow, when he’ll have to answer all of his friends’ many, many questions.
Neil’s emotions settle high in his stomach, inching up further despite how often he tries to swallow them back down.
At least swallowing doesn’t hurt as much as it did yesterday.
“I’ll see you for break in a week, Mom.” He’s got the blanket Todd requested he bring, though–he might as well throw it over his head while he’s got the chance.
“I know. Your father won’t be back until after your winter term starts.”
“That’s a long trip.”
“He was supposed to go months ago. It’s been a point of contention at work, I understand.”
Neil doesn’t know how his mother’s social circle works, or even who’s in it. But it works.
“Neil!” Todd runs to him, the rest of their friends not far behind.
He tosses the blanket over Todd and catches him when he stumbles.
“Neil.” Cameron notices first. “What happened, Neil? One of your castmates get rowdy at the wrap party?”
“We didn’t have one,” He says. “No, it wasn’t that.”
“Those are too old for that.” Charlie says. “You’ve been home since Friday night, Neil. We’ve seen your mother, but not your father.”
“He’s in Chicago. For real, this time. Mom took care of it. He won’t be back until after winter term starts.”
“So it was him.” Charlie’s fists clench. Todd runs his fingers over the worst of the bruising.
“If Neil doesn’t want to talk about it, we won’t.” Meeks says, and Cameron’s quick to agree–he’s not one for conflict, when he can avoid it. Shame his roommate is Charlie, who lives on conflict some days and his airs on others.
A nudge from Meeks gets Pitts to give in. Knox looks Neil up and down, slowly, once, twice, thrice, before he agrees.
Charlie and Todd don’t, but Neil knows that any agreement Charlie made would only be until he could corner him.
Todd knows that he’ll tell him anyway, eventually. Probably in the middle of the night, sitting on the radiator.
“What will you tell everyone else?” Knox asks.
“Nothing. That’s what I told my castmates. My mom is the only one who knows what actually happened. I’ll tell you, just not here and not now.”
“Are you coming inside, boys?” Keating stands in the doorway. “Breakfast awaits you.”
“Coming!” Charlie calls. “What about him?”
“Maybe, if he asks.”
The other boys in their grade stare, but none of them are bold enough to outright say anything–not with his friends around him. Some of the younger kids don’t have the same issue. Neil doesn’t mind so much with them; they haven’t learned, yet, that there are questions you don’t ask.
None of the teachers ask, either, and he wonders what his mom told Nolan.
Keating doesn’t pull him aside after class, but instead waits until they’re walking to dinner to clap him on the shoulder and slip him a note.
“Got a date?” Knox wriggles his eyebrows. “Maybe that girl at the play–”
“No, Knox.” Neil rolls his eyes and can’t help but to glance at Todd. Todd, who’s looking right back at him. “Keating.”
“Ah.”
“Meeks, what are you working on for trig? I feel like if I study that, I’ll be alright.”
“That’s not how studying works, Neil.” But Meeks walks him through it anyway, even though they normally refuse to discuss ‘the specifics of academics’ at the table.
Todd walks him to Keating’s door–Neil’s not sure where the others end up. It’s too dark to go outside at this time of year.
“You’re going to be with the others when I get back, right? Or will I have to drag you out of our dorm room?”
“I’ll be there. Studying. I really need to.”
“Me too. We can do some review together.” Neil promises.
Todd’s eyes linger on his, then his lips, then his neck.
“Okay.”
“I know a grown man’s hands when I see them, Neil.” Keating’s pacing around his little office.
“I didn’t think you wouldn’t, sir.” Neil says. “He’s not around. For real, this time–you can ask my mother if you don’t believe me.”
“Neil, has he–”
“Never like this. Never like he wanted me dead. The strangulation is new, in general.” Neil doesn’t know why he’s admitting it. It doesn’t come easy, though his neck isn’t the reason why. “I’m okay.”
“You’re going to keep with acting, then?”
“Yes. I’m going to audition for the winter term play, and then… I don’t know what I’ll do in summer. And next year, I’ll act again for sure.”
“I’ll be pleased to see it.” Keating smiles. “I imagine you’re eager to get to your friends, so I won’t keep you. Not unless there’s something else you want to discuss.”
“I’m alright, sir.” He has to figure out what he feels about his mom’s change in behaviour before he tells anyone else about it.
Meeks sets him–all of them–trig problems and Latin exercises to do before their official review period tomorrow, and Neil gets the pleasure of assigning chemistry homework. Todd takes English, of course, and Knox and Cameron tag-team history. Pitts has a list of topics he wants to review, and even Charlie adds a few things to it.
They make it through trig before Neil decides he can't stand all of them looking at him like they are.
Meeks, at least, is trying to be subtle, but no one else is.
“Alright, then, why don't we finish up in our dorm?” Neil packs up his books. “I don't think we're going to get much done if you all keep staring at me all night.”
“What–just you and Todd?” Knox asks.
“No, all of us. It'll be a tight fit, but we can make it work.”
Neil and Todd take Neil's bed, Charlie and Knox on Todd’s. Meeks and Cameron take the desks. Meeks has to move a cup with slightly-wilted flowers in it to put all of his stuff down. Neil didn’t have flowers on his desk on Friday.
“Really? You're gonna make me sit on the floor?” Pitts grumbles, but he sits down anyway.
“You get one question each,” Neil says, “And then we really do have to study.”
“Where is your father really?” Charlie leans forward.
“Lame question, Charlie. Chicago. According to my mom. She got the neighbor to come check on him before taking me to the hospital. I haven't seen him since that night.”
“What, did you think Neil would tell us he's dead?” Todd snorts.
“I thought he was, for a minute,” Neil says, quietly. “I was looking for my mom, trying to make sure I saw her face last instead of my father's, especially since he was strangling me. And I couldn't find her, but then I was on the floor and so was he, and Mom was the only one standing.”
The other boys are silent for a long minute; Neil chances a look at Charlie, Knox, and Pitts, since they’re right in front of him.
“Neil, I didn’t know your mom could do that.” Charlie sounds like he’s a little in awe of her.
“Neither did I,” He says. “Anyone else?”
“How’d you do the rest of the play? It must have hurt to talk.” Todd leans into his shoulder.
“I didn’t talk until the play. I slept most of Sunday, actually.” He doesn’t mention that it still hurts to talk, a little.
“What’d they do at the hospital?” Knox asks.
“Just checked me out, made sure there wasn’t spinal damage or vocal cord damage. Gave me some bruise cream to put on it.”
Meeks raises his hand, like they’re in class. “Do you think he really would have killed you?”
“I think he was angry enough to. I don’t know if he really would have. It didn’t seem like he was going to stop.”
He looks at Pitts and Cameron, who both shake their heads, looking a little paler than usual.
“We were moving onto Latin, right?” He asks.
He doesn’t tell them about how his mom’s hands had been shaking all that night, and into Saturday morning. And that he’s not sure his father is ever really going to come home. If his mother will let him.
Between them, they manage to get all of their ‘assigned’ review done–they’ll all pass their exams this week, bare minimum.
Neil expects questions from Todd, as they’re getting ready for bed.
“That girl you were looking at. Are you dating now, or something?”
“No, that’s just Ginny Danburry, Chet’s younger sister. That’s why she was with Chris. We’re not interested in each other.”
“But you looked so fond of her.”
“It wasn’t her I’m fond of.”
He doesn’t know why he says it–Todd’s jealous, he can see that. Todd’s been looking at his lips and tracing gentle fingers over his neck and leaning into his space, and maybe that’s why.
“Who is it, then? Not Chris, right? Knox will kill you.”
“I think Chris would kill me, after her experience with Knox. No, it’s not Chris, Todd.”
“Who, then? Tell me! I don’t care if it’s–if it’s Charlie, or Knox, or any of our classmates.”
“It’s not Charlie or Knox or our classmates, Todd. Well, he is my classmate.”
“We have all the same classes, Neil, that doesn’t make sense.”
“Todd.” Neil leans against the radiator, bumping Todd’s bed with his leg. “Todd, who’s my classmate but not yours?”
“... me?”
“Yes, Todd. You. I was looking at Ginny because she knows–I told her when I was drunk, and even though I never told her your name, she knew enough to figure out who I was talking about when she saw you.”
“What do we do now?” Todd ducks his head, and it’s more endearing than it has any right to be. If anyone else did it, Neil might be annoyed.
“You’ve been looking at my lips an awful lot lately.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” Neil kisses him, softly.
It’s only one kiss, but Neil doesn’t think he wants to kiss anyone else ever again. Not the way he kisses Todd, at least. On stage is one thing–if he continues to act he’ll have to do it eventually–but he’ll always save his best kisses for Todd.
“Can we do that again?” Todd’s wide-eyed, a little out of breath already.
“We might have to set a timer. Can’t be up all night when we have exams in the morning.”
“Fuck exams, this is more important.”
Neil laughs, loudly enough the boys in the dorm over pound the wall to shut him up.
“I don’t think Keating would agree. You’re staying here for winter break, aren’t you? I can ask my mom if you can come over. Then we won’t have to worry as much.”
“She won’t care?”
“I think my father almost strangling me to death may have shifted some of her priorities around.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I know. I can’t exactly ask her outright. I’ll figure it out. And besides, we don’t have to make out on my bed. We can just talk, and she’ll be none the wiser.”
“Okay. But we can kiss now, right?”
“For–” Neil checks the clock–“ten minutes. Then we have to go to sleep.”
“Just stay in my bed, it’s easier.”
“It’s too small for both of us.”
“You won’t need an extra blanket if you have me.”
“How did you know exactly what to say to get me to fold?”
Todd shrugs, shy again. “You’re my best friend, and you’re always cold.”
“Sure I’m not more than your best friend?”
“You are, but I’d rather kiss you than talk about it.”
Todd manages to push him back into the bed, and Neil tables that for later.
They go over their ten-minute time limit, but sleep comes more easily when they’re able to whisper their late-night thoughts to the warmth between them rather than the cold air of the room.