Kerry’s flush of exuberance is fading. “They’re just idiots, Esben.”
“You have to ignore them,” I say with less conviction than I’d like.
“How am I supposed to ignore this guy? I just went way back to Cassie’s party and the pictures. Some moron wrote . . .” He shakes his head and breathes before he reads this aloud. “He wrote, ‘Dude, that kid is weird looking. No wonder no one wanted to go, lol.’ And under the picture of that little schnauzer? How’s this for crummy? ‘That dog is fricking disgusting. Shoulda been shot years ago.’” He hits the wall behind him. “Tons of crap about our professor and his former friend. Way too much about Allison and me. Horrible, disgusting, offensive stuff that I will not read out loud. That I’ve already deleted. But why?” He gives us both a hopeless face. “Why? I don’t get it. I’ll never get it. And I don’t want to. I don’t want to understand these people.”
“Oh, hell.” Kerry runs her hands through her hair. “This is my fault. Look, it’s always been like this, but I’m usually on top of removing the crap. I’m really sorry. You shouldn’t have to see this kind of stuff.”
Esben raises his voice sharply. “No. I should. I should see every word. You’ve been protecting me from too much. I’ve been stupidly naive. I’ve seen plenty of BS online before this, but it’s getting to be too much. It’s way too much. I’ve hit my limit.” He scoffs and rubs his eyes. “God, I’m so dumb. All I want to see is the good, decent people who support and rally and shout out the awesome stuff. I’ve had blinders on. Not to mention, why can no one spell properly? Does nobody go to school, like, ever?”
Kerry is gentle in her response. “You just can’t give much credence to these jerks. They don’t get it. Their comments say a whole lot about them and not much else. You’ve got to look away. In order to do what you do, you have to be willing to accept that part of the population isn’t going to understand or respond the way you want. The way they should.”
“I don’t know.” He lets his laptop slide off his legs. “Maybe I don’t accept it. What’s the point, really? I can’t get anyone to change, can I? That’s probably what I thought. That I’d create change. How stupid does that sound? Look at Cassie. Jesus, who would pick on a kid with a comment like that? I can’t . . . I can’t begin to understand. And that’s the tip of the iceberg of this garbage. Who knows what else I’ve missed?”
“Esben.” Kerry looks uncomfortable. “It doesn’t matter. The voices of the supporters are louder.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not sure I believe that anymore.”
“Did you not see how many of those dogs got adopted? Have you forgotten about the message you got from Faith and how freakin’ thrilled she is? How the shelter got flooded with so many applications, not to mention donations from all over the country, that they could barely keep up?”
“That’s true,” he admits.
“And Cassie’s mom messaged you just last week to thank you for the thousandth time,” Kerry points out.
I push his laptop in front of him. “Have you checked in with Christian, the boy you danced with? You should. I bet he’s doing really well, and it’ll make you feel better.”
He hesitates, but then cracks a smile when I lift his hands and plunk them onto the keyboard. “Okay, okay. Maybe you’re right.”
“While you do that,” Kerry starts, “maybe Allison will feed me some of Simon’s gourmet food? It’s past lunchtime, and I’m starving.”
She raises her eyebrows and rubs her hands together with such pretend greed that I have to laugh.
“Of course.” I rub Esben’s shoulder and then scoot off the bed. “This week,” I announce formally, “we have marinated artichoke hearts, three kinds of olives, rosemary crackers, mousse pâté, roasted red pepper dip, and Sweety Drop peppers. Simon has gone all appetizer crazy, it seems.”
Kerry clasps her hands to her chest. “Oh, I so love him!”
I feel ridiculous setting out this fancy slew of food while in a dingy dorm room, but Kerry is delighted and eating up everything.
We are halfway through the pâté when Esben explodes in the next room.
“Goddamn it! Goddamn it!”
Both of us freeze.
“That’s it! Screw it! I’m done!” he shouts with more anger than I’ve ever heard from him.
“Baby Blue? What is it?” Kerry tries to stay calm.
He appears in the doorway, his open laptop in one hand. “You wanted me to check on Christian? I’m so glad I did, because now I know that it will always be one step forward and an infinite number back.”
“What? What happened?” I ask.
Esben looks near tears. “The post we put up? All the people cheering for him and throwing out support? That meant nothing. Because there were two people who didn’t support him. At all. His parents, who claimed they had no idea at all that he is gay. And they find it so disgusting and intolerable that they kicked him out of the house. Totally cut him off in every sense.” The laptop shakes in his hand. “He’s staying with friends most nights now, but he’s also slept in a park a bunch of times, and he’s trying to figure out what to do next year without a college fund and if it’s too late to try for financial aid.”
“Oh God,” I say under my breath.
“He had no idea his parents would react like this. None.” Without warning, Esben hurls his laptop against the wall, and Kerry and I both flinch sharply. “Who does that, huh? To anyone, not to mention their kid? What freaking year is it that anyone would do that? Tell me! This is my fault. This is my fault. I should never have approached him. If I’d left him alone, he’d still have a family.” He’s frantic now, his voice growing louder with every word. “Who knows what other damage I’ve done? Those dogs? For all I know, they’re off living with people who beat them or don’t feed them! There’s no way to protect or help anyone. Not without repercussions. Never.” He’s pacing the floor. “I’m out. I’m done. I’m going to shut it all down. Close my accounts, delete everything. Screw it. Know what, Allison? You were probably right. People can’t be trusted. They suck. I mean, when it comes down to it, by and large? People suck.”
“That’s enough,” Kerry says sharply.
“It’s true!” he shouts. “Nothing I do will disprove that. And nothing will reverse time, will it, Kerry? For you, for anyone else. There is no way to make up for anyone’s past.”
“No one expects you to reverse time, Esben.” Kerry speaks softly but with a confidence that I’ve learned is genuine. “That’s impossible. And no one is asking that of you. You have made my life so much better, and you’ve helped me heal in immeasurable ways. You know that. Come on, you know that!” she says adamantly.
It’s obvious that he isn’t listening to her. “I’m probably just adding to the problem,” he whips out. “Creating a place for people to spew their hatred and ignorance. God, that ultimately ends up as the heart of what I do, doesn’t it? I offer up opportunities for the masses to crap on any moment of hope or positivity or love, right? I can’t win at their game.”
“Don’t say that, please.” I stand up. “You cannot lose sight of the thousands of people who have been moved and uplifted. Those are the voices who scream the loudest. Look at me! Look what you’ve done for me. Look how you’ve changed me and made me stronger and more alive than I’ve ever been.”
He tries to soften his demeanor. “You’re different, Allison. You are different. That’s one-on-one. That’s because of what’s between you and me, and because you’re such a wonderful person. Online? With the hordes of followers? Totally different.”
Before I can get to him, he throws open the door and leaves.
“Should I go after him?” I ask Kerry.
“No. It’s okay. I’ll go. I think I can calm him down.” She pauses by the open door. “And, Allison? Don’t listen to what he said. Even I know that people are mostly good. My brother is just passionate, that’s all. And passion has its upsides as well as its downsides. It . . .” She taps
her hand on the open door. “It evokes tremendous generosity and tremendous hurt. Esben is in the hurt right now. It’s a momentary price to pay when his payoffs are so big. Give me a few, okay? He’ll be fine. This is not the first time he’s exploded over this stuff, and it won’t be the last.”
His laptop is on the floor, and I pick it up to see how badly he’s damaged it. When I grab the base, the screen falls off at the hinges, and glass shards spill onto the floor. After I’ve gone over the carpet at least four times with the dorm vacuum, I put away the food that Kerry and I’d been eating. Then I sit on the ugly orange couch and wait.
And wait. For much longer than I would have thought.
I miss Simon. Maybe I should catch a ride with Esben and Kerry and go see Simon this week after all. I allow myself to be distracted by these thoughts because I am so discomforted and unsettled by everything else going on. I hate that the boy I love so deeply is in the midst of a clear crisis.
Forty-five minutes after they left my room, Esben and Kerry return, with Esben looking much more together. My body sheds its tension.
Esben is barely through the door when he says, “Allison, I am really sorry. I was being crazy—”
“Stop. It’s okay. Don’t apologize. Don’t.” I touch the place next to me on the couch, and he sits. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to do what you do, on the scale you do. That’s really intense, and I’m sure it can feel . . . useless. That you’re fighting against too much.”
“It does.”
“One negative thing seems like it overrides a thousand positives. In a sea of love, all you see is the one person drowning.”
His defeated face is unfamiliar. “Yes.”
Kerry seats herself on the floor and looks up at him. “If you don’t want to do this anymore, or if you want to take a break, that’s all right.”
His body language, the way he emotes his internal struggle . . . it’s brutal to watch. Esben is at a loss; that’s clear.
He’s thoughtful before he says anything. “I think I should. I’m not sure I have a choice. This has all gotten out of hand, and I can’t control it. I guess I’ve never been able to, but with all of these followers now . . .”
“I know,” Kerry agrees. “Since the fall, your following has grown so fast. You’re at over seven hundred thousand on Twitter. That’s insane. And no one can have that kind of online presence and not take on a whole bunch of assholes in the process. It’s not fair, it’s not cool, and it’s discouraging.”
Sorrow and pain are visible in him. “The BS is all louder than anything else right now. That’s the opposite of what I intended.” He grabs his sister’s hand. “And, Kerry, that’s not your fault. You were doing too much before. Shielding me. I see that.”
“So get off-line,” she offers. “Just get off-line.”
“Allison, are you okay with this?” He turns to me with so much more worry than he should have.
“Absolutely,” I tell him. “I don’t want you to be unhappy. This is supposed to be fun and . . . it’s supposed to spread love. And make you feel good, too. If it doesn’t—then get out.”
He clasps my hand in his and takes a hard breath. “Okay. Okay.”
My phone rings, and the melody of the particular tone sends chills through me. I tense and throw my free hand against Esben’s arm, pulling at his shirt and fumbling for speech. “No. God, no.” Every part of me is shaking and screaming, yet I am barely able to get these words out.
“What?” he asks.
“Allison?” Kerry is by my side.
Before my eyes fill with tears and I can’t see straight, I look at the caller ID and confirm what I know to be true. “It’s Steffi’s number. Esben? It means someone . . .” Christ, I cannot breathe. “Someone is calling to . . . tell me . . .” There is no way to finish the sentence. And I cannot pick up this call.
The room starts to spin, and I hand him the phone.
“You want me to answer for you? You sure?” he asks gently.
I nod.
“Hello?”
His voice sounds funny, muffled by the deluge of panic swirling through my head, and I can’t hear anything else he says. I’m just trying to breathe. It’s not until he shakes me by the shoulders, saying my name sharply, that I refocus.
Esben is on his knees, in front of me now. “It’s Steffi on the phone,” he says.
I stare at him, unable to process those simple words.
“She’s called. She wants to talk to you.”
I shake my head, confused.
“Allison? Steffi is on the phone, and she’s asking for you. This is real. Talk to her.”
“What? What?” I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle the sob that threatens to break through. I look at Esben with desperation and hope and fear.
He makes me take the phone and whispers, “It’s all right. But she needs you.”
“Steffi?”
“Allison.”
Oh God, she sounds so weak.
“I’m here, and I love you,” I tell her instinctively.
“I love you, too. So much.” It’s an effort for her to speak, I can tell. “I made a mistake.”
It’s so hard not to cry. “What do you mean?”
“I thought I wanted . . . to do this alone, but I don’t.”
“Okay. Okay.” Because I must force myself to cope as I never have before, I stand up and walk the room, running my hand through my hair. “Tell me what you need. Anything.” Then I stop and look at Esben.
He is on high alert and nods confidently at me. Whatever I have to do, he’ll help.
“I don’t have long, Allison. I can feel it. The nurses know it, too.” Steffi’s crying breaks my heart, yet again. “I don’t want to go without you. I really need you.”
“I’m coming. I’ll get a flight. I’m coming, I promise.” But as I say this, I realize the problem I’m about to run into, and Esben’s stricken expression tells me that he agrees. “I will be there,” I tell her anyway. “You just hang on, okay? Just hang on.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll call you when I get a flight.”
“My nurses . . . are Rebecca and Jamie.” Her breathiness carries through the phone. “I’m sleeping a lot. So, they may answer. I’ll have one of them text you their numbers. I’m at Cedars-Sinai.”
“Okay, honey. I’m leaving now. I’ll get to you. I will get to you.” It takes all my willpower to hang up and even more willpower not to fall apart. “Steffi wants me there. It’s almost over.”
“I heard.” Esben takes me in his arms and rubs my back. “The airline strike. And it’s spring break. We have a problem.”
I push away and look at him, panicked. “There’s no way I can reach her. What am I going to do?”
He smiles sweetly at me. “I said we have a problem, not that we can’t do this. Kerry?”
She’s next to us in a flash. “I’m ready. Tell me what you need.”
“Start checking flights out of Bangor and out of Boston. Try Manchester, New Hampshire. Anything. We’re getting to LA. One way or another.”
“You’re coming with me?” I drop my head against him in appreciation.
“I think we’re going to have to finagle one hell of a trip, and it’ll be easier if I’m there. That is, if you want me to come, of course.”
“I do. I don’t think I can do this without you.”
“You could, but you don’t have to,” he says as he hugs me. “I need a picture of her. Do you have one on your computer that you can send me?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Just do that, then throw a few things in a backpack, and let’s go. I’m driving us . . . somewhere. Kerry? How are things looking?”
“Gimme a minute, gimme a minute . . . I’m trying to find something . . .” She’s shaking her head, though.
“Is Danny around?” he asks.
“No, he left for home already.”
“Then get Jason. We need him. I’ll do a post, and you monitor Twi
tter, and Jason can stay on Facebook.”
Kerry gives him a friendly shove. “You’re not messing around if you’re bringing in Jason.”
“Shut up. You know I love him.”
“Wait, what’s happening?” I’m nearly speechless. “What are you doing? You’re posting this?”
“If you’re okay with it, it’s the best way.” His arm goes around my shoulders, and he kisses the top of my head. “There are hundreds of thousands of people out there who are going to hear about this. And they are going to help us reach Steffi.”
“Two minutes ago, you were going to get off-line. You can’t possibly think this will work. God, Esben, it’s one thing to get help for a kid’s party. Or to adopt a dog. But there’s no way even you can do this.”
“Yes, there is.” He squeezes me tightly. “Watch me.”
“What about . . . you two are supposed to go home tomorrow.”
“Our parents will understand,” Kerry says. “They know us. They know Esben.”
“Thank you. Thank you both, so much.” I look between these amazing people. “I don’t know what else to say. You guys are—”
“We love you,” Kerry says firmly. “And we’re going to get you to Steffi.”
“We will,” Esben agrees. “Send me that picture; then we’re leaving.”
My emotions are trying to take over. “What if . . .” Dammit, this hurts. “What if we don’t make it in time? What if—”
“Don’t talk like that,” he insists. “We will get there. Listen to me. We will.”
I hope he’s right about that. He has to be.
CHAPTER 27
#ALLISONANDSTEFFI
Esben’s post has exploded. He had to break it into a ton of tweets to get it all up on Twitter, but that’s probably good for exposure anyway.
My friends, I need to ask for your help. #girlfriendallison has a best friend, Steffi. A best friend who has been Allison’s support through hell and back, especially while growing up in the rocky and often scary and unstable foster-care system. Many of us understand what it means to be lucky enough to have a true, hard-core friend, and Steffi has been Allison’s saving grace over and over.