Our Grandfathers Were Right

CONTENT WARNING: THIS PIECE CONTAINS HEAVY TOPICS SUCH AS SUICIDE, IMPLIED SELF HARM, AND HOMOPHOBIA. READ WITH CAUTION

I am unloveable.

That is what I always told myself. I had too much going on, I kept to myself, and most of all, the few times I had tried to put myself out there, I was met with laughter.

That isn’t an exaggeration. I had only ever asked out two boys, Parker Martin and Derek Lee. Parker looked me up and down and laughed so hard that it caught the attention of every other person in the cafeteria. To be fair, I was a dorky freshman asking out a junior I had only ever had one conversation with. I’d say that time, it was warranted.

Derek actually thought I was joking. When I didn’t laugh along with him, he stopped dead in his tracks. He started fidgeting and looking anywhere but at me. He then proceeded to ask “are you serious?” Needless to say, I didn’t continue to pursue him.

Since then, I’ve poured myself into my passions and extracurriculars. Photography, cheerleading, orchestra, that was my life. In addition, I was determined to be top of my class. My brother, Gail, had the same goal, but I was tens of spots ahead of him.

Well, I was. I had failed two finals my junior year, meanwhile Gail had gotten As on every single one. After, Gail was three spots ahead of me, knocking me down to fifth in our class.

That, coupled with the identity crisis I was already going through, I landed myself in an outpatient facility. My parents pushed for inpatient because they ‘didn’t want to babysit’ 24/7.

The program I was in wasn’t that bad. I had to meet with a psychiatrist for about 15 minutes before being sent to 90 minutes of group therapy.

The therapy group I was part of focused primarily of self esteem issues and how to gain more confidence. On my first day, the therapist, a middle aged man who I was told to call Mr. Ryan, told me to find a seat wherever I liked. I was one of the first few there, so there were plenty of chairs. The chairs were all arranged in a circle, just like you’d see in movies. I sat directly across the way from Mr. Ryan, dropping my purse at my feet.

“Remind me of you name again, hon,” Mr. Ryan asked me, pulling out a clipboard.

I cleared my throat. “Last name Staton?”

Mr. Ryan scanned the roster before tapping his finger on the page. “There you are. Did you have a preferred name or shall we call you what’s listen?”

I nodded. “I go by Aurora or Rory.”

Mr. Ryan smiled at me and jotted that down. “Well, Aurora, we’re glad to have you.”

I smiled at him and nodded again. I placed my hands on my knees and started messing with the holes on my jeans. I heard some more people shuffling in, a few of them talking amongst themselves but most of them moved silently.

I heard the chair to my right move. I looked up to the person standing beside it. They were wearing a black Pierce The Veil hoodie with the hood up. It was hard to tell if they were a boy or girl.

“Nobody’s sitting there, if you’d like to sit,” I told them, motioning to the chair. The person took a seat in the chair, adjusting the edges of his hood. They turned their head more towards me and I was able to make out more of their facial features.

They were definitely a boy, they had floppy black hair and a stern look to them. The closer I looked, I noticed the entire left side of their face was bandaged. The bandages were relatively loose, leading me to believe whatever wound he had was fresh. I thought about asking him what happened, but it felt inappropriate to ask in this enviorment.

“Alright everyone,” Mr. Ryan clapped his hands together, grabbing everyone’s attention, “we have a new friend joining us today. Everyone, say hello to Aurora.”

The entire group echoed those three words. I shifted nervously in my seat and gave everyone a small wave. I turned to the boy next to me, who was now staring blankly ahead of him. He hadn’t said anything.

Mr. Ryan cleared his throat. “So, today, we will be discussing the topic of avoiding negative self talk.”

I listened intently as Mr. Ryan spoke. He went on about how our brain is incredibly self critical of itself and even if we joke about it it still counts.

Truthfully though, I wasn’t paying much attention. The boy beside me kept looking over at me, always looking away when I looked back.

“Now,” Mr. Ryan spoke, “I’m going to go down the line and each one of us will take something negative we frequently say about ourselves and reframe it to something positive. I want everyone to try it, even if you don’t believe it. If you say it to yourself enough and you eventually will believe it.”

Mr. Ryan looked right at me. “Let’s let Aurora give it a try. Remember the rule, no staring.”

I looked around at everyone, surprisingly nobody was staring. “Um…I am…I am not smart enough, but that’s okay?”

Mr. Ryan shook his head. “No, try naming something positive about how smart you are. What specifically are you knowledgeable on?”

I looked down at my feet. “Uh, I’m really good at photography.”

“Try it without the adlibs”

“I am good at photography,” I repeated. I knew that was true, I photographed for my school’s newspaper and have had my work displayed in an art gallery.

Mr. Ryan gave me a huge smile. “Good!” He moved his gaze to the boy beside me. “What about you, Rich?”

I tried my hardest not to look over, trying to show the same courtesy I was shown. The room was silent for at least 60 seconds, Mr. Ryan had an encouraging smile on his face. Nobody was snickering or sighing, just patiently waiting for him to find the words.

“I’m a talented baseball player,” he said finally. His voice was higher than I thought it would be, it wasn’t squeaky or immature, just higher.

Mr. Ryan let out squeal of joy. “Awesome! Great job Rich!”

Mr. Ryan continued to go all the way around the circle. One girl said she was a great singer, another said she was beautiful, a boy said he was a great brother.

Once the rotation reached me again, Mr. Ryan glanced at the clock. “I think that’s time. Everyone, I want each of you to go home and write five positive things about yourself you actually believe in. I know it’s cheesy, but please trust me on this. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Everyone stood up from their chairs, gathering purses and bags. I picked my purse up from the ground and jumped to my feet. I looked over to Rich, he was standing up but moving very slowly, avoiding using his left arm.

“Is you arm hurt?” I asked him.

Rich nodded, not looking over to me. Once he finally got to his feet, he showed me pulled his hoodie sleeve down and showed me the top of his wrist. There was nasty burn, likely 2nd degree, running up his arm. The top of his hand was blistered , but it didn’t seem to be too burnt.

I couldn’t stop myself from gasping a bit, grabbing my own wrist while slightly cringing. “Is that what’s on your face?” Rich pointed at the blisters and then the burn, narrowing his eyes at me. “Both I guess?”Rich titled his right hand side to side. “Worse?” Rich nodded. He held up three fingers and pointed to his left cheek and just above his eyebrow. He held up two fingers and tilted his chin up, showing more scarring and blisters down his neck.

I gasped again, instinctively reaching my hand out and brushing it with my fingertips. Rich hissed in pain and jerked away. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, that probably hurt.”

Rich looked over to Mr. Ryan, still sat in his chair. He turned back to me and motioned for us to leave the room. I follow Rich outside the therapy room and out to the parking lot.

“Do you have a car?” I asked, trying to change the subject. Rich shook his head. “Neither do I, I walked here.”

Rich tilted his head quizzically. “No ride?” he asked.

“No, it’s only like a thirty minute walk though. I need the exercise, it’d no big deal,” I replied, playfully laughing.

Rich’s face suddenly became concerned. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He began frantically typing before shoving his phone back in his pocket. He grabbed the edges of his hood and pulled it down, revealing the entirety of his face.

It wasn’t anything I couldn’t see with the hood on, other than an eyebrow piercing on the non-bandaged eyebrow. Although, he did look a lot better with his whole face showing.

“Hungry?” he asked, an almost cheerful tone to his voice.

I smiled a bit. “No, I’m okay.”

Rich narrowed his eyes at me. He then shook his head. “Please?”

I copied his stare. There was a look of desperation in his eyes, one that almost frightened me. I took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, we can eat.”

Rich’s face completely changed. He want from stoic to sunny within moments. His mouth morphed into a bright smile, despite it clearly paining him.

He gestured for me to follow him, implying that he already had somewhere in mind. I followed beside him, surely my family wouldn’t mind me being late.

The restaurant was only around the corner of the psychiatric building. It was a small hole in the wall Italian place, but once I stepped inside, I realized it was by no means unknown. The line to order at the counter was nearly out the door and every table was full. I looked over to Rich.

“How do you expect to-” Before I finished my sentence, I heard someone excitedly calling Rich’s name. An Italian woman, roughly late thirties, walked up to the second register and motioned for us to come over. Rich grabbed my hand and pulled me to the front.

“It’s so good to see you out of the hospital!” she chirped. “I hope your mother sent you our love.”

Rich nodded, still smiling from earlier. He turned his head to me then back to the woman. “This is Aurora.”

The woman gasped happily, clapping her hands together. “Oh sweetheart it’s so nice to meet you!” she turned back to Rich and said something to him in Italian. Whatever she said caused his face to slowly turn pink. He shrugged his shoulders, making the woman laugh.

“Anyways, did you want the usual, baby?”

Rich nodded, reaching for his wallet. The woman held her hand up. “No, no, family eats free, you know that.”

Rich dropped his hands and said something else in Italian. The woman typed the order into the register and handed Rich the ticket. “We’ll bring it out to you, enjoy you two!”

Rich thanked her and had me follow him to a small table outside. I sat down across from him, suddenly feeling very uneasy.

“So, um, who was that?” I asked, not really wanting an answer.

“My aunt,” he replied.

“Really?” I studied his face for a moment. “I thought you were-“

“Asian?” he interrupted, “I am. Half.”

I nodded, running my finger along the side of the parmesan cheese shaker. Rich stared at me, no longer smiling but he didn’t seem as serious as before. His eyes fell to my sweater, now staring at my arms.

I looked up at him. “I’m not hot.”

Rich nodded, looking back to my face. I looked back down at the shaker. These past thirty minutes had happened so quickly, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to be here. The longer this boy stares at me, the more he freaks me out.

“Excuse me.”

I turned around, being met with an older gentleman with the most disgusting expression I had ever seen. “Yes?”

“Not you,” the man pointed across to Rich, “you.”

Rich straightened up and pointed to himself. I scrunched my nose and looked back. “What about him?”

The man ignored me. “You shouldn’t be out in public like that, you looks grotesque. My grandkids and I are trying to eat.”

Rich looked around with his mouth open, unsure what to say. “What do I do about it?” he asked.

“Cover up, or better yet, don’t come into places that serve food.”

“Are you serious man?” I asked, scoffing at him, “he’s just trying to eat.”

“I am not talking to you, you fucking queer-“

“Hey!” Rich shot up from his chair, “do not speak to her like that!”

My mouth fell open, that is the loudest I had heard him and the most words I heard him say at a time. I grabbed the necklace I was wearing and looked back at the man.

The man rolled his eyes and turned his back to us.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Rich spat. He settled himself back in his chair. He wasn’t making eye contact with me anymore.

“That was,” I tried to find more words, but there wasn’t anything for me to say.

Rich gave me an apologetic look. His hand moved up and he gently touched the scarring on his neck, wincing as he did so. “Hey, stop,” I grabbed his wrist and pulled it back down to the table. I released his wrist and lowered my head to meet his gaze. “Has that happened before?”

Rich shook his head. “First time.”

The restaurant door swung open and a young girl came out carrying a pepperoni and mushroom pizza. She strolled over to us and set it in the middle. Rich smiled up at her. “Thank you, Claudia.” Claudia smiled back and gave Rich a quick hug before heading back in.

“How’d you know I like mushrooms on my pizza?” I joked, grabbing a slice.

Rich titled his head, he was smiling again. He grabbed a slice as well, not taking his eyes off me.

I glanced behind me to make sure the old man was gone. “Can I ask a question?” Rich nodded, still eating his slice. “What happened?”

Rich swallowed his bite. “Car crash.”

“Car crash?”

“Car caught fire,” he answered, like it was obvious.

“Cars usually don’t just ignite. Was there anything wrong with the car?” I asked, my slice now forgotten in front of me.

Rich shook his head. “Nope. Just caught fire.”

I didn’t believe him. There was no way a car just ignites for no reason, especially for it to be hot enough for Rich to get third degree burns.

“Why don’t you like to talk?” I pressed.

Rich, for the hundredth time, shrugged. “No point.”

I tilted my head curiously, vainly hoping he’d elaborate. I looked off to the side, trying to find some kind of conversation topic that wasn’t me grilling him.

“Do you want to go home?” Rich asked, setting his slice down.

I moved my eyes back to his and shook my head. “I’m alright.” Rich nodded, but his shoulders were tense. He was no longer looking at me, instead he was fixated on a piece of gum on the sidewalk.

“What is it?” I asked. Rich, still not looking at me, opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He looked to the other side of himself, into the restaurant window.

“You, um,” Rich stopped himself once again.

“I…?” I asked him, looking up at him through my bangs.

His eyes flicked to mine. “I think you’re really pretty.”

I couldn’t help but bust out laughing. I covered my mouth and my shoes. I mean, nobody has ever called me pretty, let alone someone I had just met.

I looked back to Rich, expecting him to be laughing along. Instead, his mouth was hanging open and he had a hurt look in his eye, his entire body even more tense before.

I immediately stopped laughing. “Oh, are you…?”

Rich closed his mouth and cleared his throat. He nervously laughed, now staring at the half eaten pizza in front of us. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“Oh, no no no,” I said frantically, “it isn’t about you! I didn’t mean it like that!”

Rich squeezed his eyes shut quickly. He took a deep breath and hardened his expression. “It’s alright.”

“No, Rich, it’s not. I promise I didn’t mean it like that, I just haven’t had somebody call me pretty before and-“

Rich stood up from his seat, squeezing his eyes again. His face began to turn red as he stepped back from the table. I shot up from my chair and rushed over to him. “Rich, I’m sorry, it wasn’t about you,” I repeated. I placed a hand on his right shoulder, running my hand down his arm to his hand.

Rich startled for a moment and watched as I intertwined my fingers with his. He ripped his hand away from mine and stepped back again. His breathing started to pick up and I could see his body start to shake. In that moment, I did the only thing I could think of to stop him from freaking out.

I kissed him. I had never kissed anyone before, I wasn’t even sure if I was doing it right. His lips were dry and the left corner of his mouth almost felt rubbery. Sure enough though, the distraction seemed to work. He kissed me back.

We pulled away from one another, Rich’s eyes were wide, he was staring blankly ahead of him as I grabbed both of his hands.

“Did you mean that?” he asked, breathless.

The truth was, I didn’t know. We had just met, I know next to nothing about him. What if I only felt any attraction because he’s showing interest?

But, as I looked up at him, his wide eyes and that dopey look on his face, I felt that he was one of the most handsome boys I had ever laid eyes on.

I nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think so.”

Rich’s shocked expression flipped instantly, he had the same bright smile he had when I agreed to eat with him.

He grabbed what was left of the pizza and brought it back inside, giving the rest to who I assume was his cousin. He came out and took my hand in his again.

“Where to?” he asked me.

“How much time do you have?”

“All day.”

I gave a quick nod and led Rich to the main road. We began walking along the sidewalk, neither of us talking. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking, what if I don’t actually like this boy? I didn’t know his last name, where he lived, how old he was, oh God I didn’t even know how old he was!

“How old are you?” I blurted out.

“Seventeen,” he answered.

I let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, me too.”

We continued on the main road for a while, just walking in silence. Eventually, we came up to a residential that we turned down. Rich was examining the houses curiously.

“My cousin lives here.”

“The one from the restaurant?”

Rich shook his head.

We walked for another ten minutes before stopping. Rich looked at me then back at the house. I led him up to the front door and walked him inside, out hands still intertwined.

“Your house?” Rich asked, looking around as he stepped inside.

“Yep. Take your shoes off, my mom will have a fit.” Rich obliged, slipping off his sneakers.

“Gail, is that you?” I heard my mom call from upstairs.

“No, it’s Rory,” I called back, “I have a friend.”

Once I was confident Mom wouldn’t respond, I pulled Rich upstairs and into my bedroom. His eyes widened as he stepped in. I had dozens of photography books stacked in my bookshelf as well as all my favorite photographs on a wall. In the corner, I had my cello case propped against the wall behind a music stand.

“This isn’t what I want to show you,” I pushed my window open and carefully stepped onto the gabled roof just outside it. Rich copied me, using my shoulder to steady himself. I pointed to the tree branches blocking the view from the backyard, then at the another tree further down, blocking the view from the driveway. “It’s like my sanctuary.” I carefully took a seat and helped Rich do so as well.

“Why are you in group therapy?” he asked almost instantly.

I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I’ll tell if you do. The truth, no bullshit.”

Rich narrowed his eyes at me. His hand reached up and gently brushed his scarred neck. “You first.”

I stared at him for a moment. His hands were a bit shaky and he wasn’t making eye contact. I let out a long sigh.

“It’s stupid,” I began, “I failed a few finals and dropped a few ranks in my class. My brother Gail, on the other hand, was bumped to 2nd in our class. Our parents were so proud of him, they kept saying how much he deserved it. They never said anything like that to me when I was third, second, even when I was top of my class.”

I placed my necklace between my thumb and pointer finger. “I lost it. I kept screaming that it wasn’t fair and that Gail didn’t deserve it. I was throwing things, cursing everyone out, told my parents that they suck at their job.

“They sent me to my bedroom. I was so mad at myself, I felt so stupid! So, I…um,” I dropped my necklace and started tugging at my sweater sleeve. Rich looked down at my arm. He held out a hand and I let him take my arm. He rolled up my sleeve, his eyes widening once he saw it.

“Oh.”

I nodded, pulling the sleeve back down. “I didn’t want to die, I was just so angry. I already hated my body, so destroying it seemed like the best way to get back at myself.

“Anyway, one of my friends came over to check on me and found me in that state. I begged them not to call the police, so instead they took me to the E.R. I don’t know how I got out of being thrown in a psych ward.”

I cleared my throat. “So, yeah, that’s how I ended up there.”

Rich nodded knowingly. I looked over to him. “Your turn.”

Rich clenched his fists. He took a deep breath and began. “It wasn’t an accident, the car crash. I drove my car into a lamp post. When that didn’t kill me, I purposefully set my car on fire.”

“Was there a reason?” I asked, moving closer.

“I don’t know,” he replied, “it was something on my mind for forever. I haven’t been happy since,” his voice trailed off.

I reached an arm out, cupping the left side of Rich’s face in my hand, running my thumb gently along the bandages. He seemed shocked, but after a moment, he leaned more into my hand. I moved even closer, pulling his head on to my shoulder. Rich wrapped his arms around me, resting his face on me as I played with his hair.

I had never said any of that out loud, and saying it to someone who truly understands, it was cathartic. And seeing Rich be so open with me, after I showed him even a bit of kindness, made it obvious to me that he had never been so vulnerable with anyone. Probably not even his family.

I’m not sure how long we stayed like that, but it was long enough for Rich to fall asleep in my arms. To nobody’s surprise, not a single one of my family members came looking for me. However, Rich’s phone did ping periodically throughout his sleep. I would glance over and see that it one of his siblings, by the looks of it, they were sending him TikToks and screenshots.

Rich began to stir in my arms, shaking me from my hypnotic state. I scratched the back of his head, signaling him that it was time to get up.

Rich lifted his head up and stretched his arms out, his back cracking as he did so. “Good morning,” I joked.

Rich let out a content sigh, shifting himself so he was more comfortable on the angled roof. “Sorry.”

“No worries, I’m glad you could sleep.”

Rich checked his phone, slightly gasping at the time. “I need to go.”

I frowned, grabbing his shoulder. “Aw, okay.”

Rich turned his head to me, pressing his lips into mine. This time, the kiss felt much more intentional, more passionate. “Give me your number.”

I took Rich’s phone and typed my phone number in, handing it back. “Text me when you get home, okay?” Rich nodded, a soft smile appearing on his face.

I helped Rich back in through the window, shutting it behind me. I walked him downstairs and to the front door. He had told me that he was going to walk to his cousin’s house and be picked up from there.

“Walk safe,” I told him, grabbing his hands.

“I will.”

We stared into one another’s eyes for a bit, the thought that this was only the start of something beautiful lingering in your minds.

“Bye,” he said finally.

“Bye.” I slowly closed the door behind Rich, exhaling once it was shut. I spun around, seeing my dad in the kitchen.

“What’s gotten in to you?” he asked.

I shook my head, a smile plastered on my face. “Nothing at all.”

I trotted up to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I was on my way to practice the cello until I noticed my purse in the corner.

“Shit,” I whispered. I still had to do that homework for Mr. Ryan. I grabbed a piece of notebook paper from an old notebook and numbered it one through five.

I tapped my pen on the edge of my desk, contemplating on what to write. As much as I’d like to say meeting Rich instantly fixed all my problems, that isn’t even close to the truth. I will be having just as a hard time with this as I would’ve before.

Now, though, I do have a bit of a clearer head. I placed my pen on the paper and began writing.