Nathaniel Jean's Senior Year

20: Nathaniel Jean's Actual Future

       I thought about going to school. It could be a good distraction—and god knew, I needed a distraction. I went as far as to finally pull out of the parking lot and drive there, only to stop the moment the familiar buildings cane into view and pull over onto the side of the road, realizing that I couldn't go. I couldn't see Lucas, or Eric, or Halima, or Lilly, or Sae; I couldn't handle their questions. I definitely couldn't handle Shawn and the rest of them, staring at me, unknowing of the fact that their suspicions were true and had finally been realized, even if not by them.

       I had to go somewhere, though. I couldn't go back to the gardens. I couldn't go to school. I clearly couldn't go to my house—what used to be my house.

      More than anything, I needed cash. To feed myself and satisfy my thirst. I climbed into the backseat and opened a suitcase, shuffling through and checking every pocket for some change—even a dollar. When one suitcase provided me with nothing, I moved onto another.

     It was then, while my fingers were buried in the front pocket of a pair of jeans, that I finally felt paper in my grasp. I pulled it out triumphantly, only to feel a tidal wave of disappointment when I realized that the paper wasn't money.

I unfolded the yellow sticky-note, pulling when the adhesive side stuck to itself.

       402-052-5600

       A phone number. One I'd forgotten all about.

      The nice nurse at the hospital. Natalie. "So I, a complete and total stranger, am offering you help if you need it. Now or ever."

      I didn't waste a second before dialing the number. This was my answer—it had to be.

She picked up after the first ring. "Hello?"

"Hi, Natalie," I breathed. "This is Nate. I'm . . . I'm the kid from the hospital. You gave me your number and told me to use it if everything goes to shit."

Her responding "Oh" gave me the comfort of knowing that she at least remembered me. "Does this mean it's all gone to shit?"

I chuckled, slightly embarrassed over what I was about to ask of her. "To put it simply; yes."

"Damn," she breathed. "What happened? Wait, you don't have to tell me if you don't want, sorry. Just tell me what you need, and I'll try my best. I want to help."

I still struggled to believe that people as nice as her existed. "You're fine," I assured her. "It's just . . . My parents found out about me and Lucas. And I'm kind of short on a home at the moment."

I heard her gasp softly across the line. "You're serious? They kicked you out?"

"That they did."

"Well no offense," she said, "But your parents seem like assholes."

I snorted. "Oh honey, you don't know the half of it." Then I paused. "I just realized how incredibly gay that sounded."

Natalie laughed. "Youre funny, Nate. Though I don't think this is really a humorous situation."

With a sigh, I said, "Yeah, you're right."