Free One Voice 02 - Here Without You by Mia Kerick

ace that bio exam, Casey? Aah, I’m sure ya did.”
    Our boyfriend was overly cheerful. Casey and I swapped eye rolls.
    “And Zander, how’re your One Voice plans for this Sunday comin’ along, dude? Stellar, I’m sure.”
    Hello, we know you, Nate . We’re not buying into this bullshit.
    “By the way, guys. Gotta work this weekend, so I can’t come down to Boston. Bummed as hell, but work is work, right?”
    Tell me another one, dude.
    “So, anyhow, can’t talk too long. Gotta take Cindy to the mall. She says she needs a haircut, and who am I to argue with a teenage girl, huh?” His voice was like sweetness on steroids.
    What the fuck is up with this?
    Anybody who’s reading this in the future—gay, straight, in a threesome or a foursome, or single even—listen carefully. You can’t allow your partner or friend to bullshit you and get away with it. But—yes, there’s a big but coming—but you have to choose your battles, select the right time to confront. Be tactful, yet get down to the heart of the matter. Casey and I knew it was not the right time. Nate was still dealing with whatever had him acting so fucked up.
    Casey took the wheel. “Well, by all means, go take the girl for her haircut. Zander and I would never stand in the way of beauty.”
    Nate laughed, but the sound was forced and unconvincing.
    “Sweetheart,” Casey added. “We want to Skype you tonight. How’s that sound?”
    “Uh…,” Nate uttered, and then silence.
    “How’s nine o’clock for you?” I asked, unwilling to give up.
    “Shit, dude. Said I’d work at the Humane Society ’til late tonight. I’ll… I’ll text ya before bed.”
    “I want to see you.” Casey was pushing and I was glad.
    “Lookit. I’ll Skype you guys tomorrow night after work, ’kay? Hey, gotta run. Cindy’s chompin’ at the bit to get to the salon.”
    And he hung up. Without saying “love ya” or “miss ya.” He was just gone.
    And for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past five minutes, Casey and I looked at each other and saw worry on each other’s faces.
    Danny. My man and my only brother—something’s wrong. I know it. But I don’t know what, and I don’t know what to do either. Maybe your best advice should be sent to me in a text message or an e-mail. Maybe it’s just too private for what will one day be a public forum.
     
     
    C ASEY ’ S REAL LIFE
     
    I WAS so angry at him. I mean, probably it was one of the angriest, most frustrated, and helpless moments I’d experienced since I’d been humiliated by the girls on the soccer field that night my freshman year. And that’s saying a lot. Because that night was hell.
    Nate was lying to us. It was that simple. He skipped out on our phone call on Wednesday night, put us off on Thursday night, told us his Skype wasn’t working right on Friday night, and was missing in action all day Saturday.
    I felt like my blood was boiling. Something was wrong. Really wrong . And I didn’t know what. Because of that, I didn’t know how to go about fixing it. I didn’t want Zander to see how upset I was, because I could tell he was having his own concerns about Nate. I didn’t want to put more of a burden on his shoulders. So I hid myself away from him. I hid at the library, at the student cafeteria, at the student center. I actually even went to the recreational complex and attempted to run laps on the indoor track. Wonders never cease. I just needed to hide away from my feelings. And to hide from Zander, who knew me better than I knew myself.
    On Saturday evening, I came home in time for our usual dinnertime text message from Nate. Unsurprisingly there was nothing from him. No text. No e-mail. No phone call. He’d blown us off again.
    “This guy invited me to a party at his off-campus apartment. I want to go.” It was true. A guy from my statistics class, Chad Hutchins, had invited me to his house party, probably to thank me for all the help I’d been giving him with