Therapy

The next time the group met up, Remy felt like something had changed. After Renee's confession of what she believed allowed Mark to get away with rape, and then combined with what he and Emmitt did later that night, it seemed like nothing was the same.

But when they all started joking around and laughing like normal, Remy realized that all this anxiety was just in his head, something that he was creating. That day, they gathered around the tiny DVD player, all huddled on Renee's bed. This time they were watching Jaws 3, which -- while it's not a cinematic masterpiece, or anywhere close -- was better than the Star Wars Holiday Special.

"Wow," Renee said. "Those are some terrible special effects. What were they thinking? Were they just like, 'Welp, this is the best we can do. Eh, the audience probably won't notice anyway,'? Like, what?"

"Well, it's better than that other movie," Remy said.

"Very true."

After the movie, everyone was getting ready to leave. Emmitt looked at Remy with a sincere smile before heading out the door and disappearing from view. Remy was about to do the same, but first he asked, "Does Emmitt know about what happened?"

The smile faded from Renee's face, and Remy immediately regretted asking. "Just about everyone knows. Emmitt went to our school, and after the trial, Mark told a bunch of people about it. And you know how rumors are. So everyone at our school knew some version of what happened. Luckily, we only had a few months left of classes, so the constant invasion of people asking me about it ended when school did."

Landon added, "But Emmitt doesn't know about that night in the woods... about what I did."

"Wait, what happened after that?" Remy asked. "Like, when did they find the... body?"

Landon answered, "His parents called the police about their son's disappearance the next night. They assumed he was staying with a friend. But after calling all of their parents, they suspected something was up and called the cops. They sent out a search party, and they found him within the next day, about a mile downstream from where he..." He just trailed off, voice becoming shaky as he thought about the horror of what he'd done. "Of course, their first suspect was Renee, because of what happened and the texts she gave him the night of his death. But the friend she stayed with, Hanna, was able to vouch for her. Her parents were there that night, so they did too. Renee told them that she planned to meet with Mark, but that she couldn't follow through with it and that someone must've followed him to the location. They eventually questioned me, too. But because I barely knew him and people had reported seeing me at the Summer's Start Festival, I was safe. And since most of the people at the festival were intoxicated, they couldn't remember the time frame for when they saw me. So the police just chalked up Mark's death to him being in the wrong place at the wrong time, thinking that maybe some sort of drug deal was going on there, and Mark just stumbled upon it."

"Fuck," was Remy's response. "That... That's a lot."

"We're aware," Renee said, not unkindly.

"Sorry I keep asking stuff, and like, ruining the mood."

Renee gave him a sad smile, "Actually, it kind of takes a weight off my shoulders, knowing someone else knows and backs us up on it. After... you know, it just kind of felt like everyone was against me. I mean, close friends stood by me and believed what happened, but it seemed like no one else really cared. And it fucking sucked to watch Mark get away with it, to see him surrounded by people who believed his lie, people who would call me a 'crazy bitch' under their breath."

Remy's heart felt like it was going to break in two. How could someone go through that and be okay? He hugged her, held her close to him as if to say that he would never let anything happen to her. He felt this desperate need to let her know that, but couldn't form the words, and thought that even if he could, he would just sound like some cliche masculine dude trying to protect his girl. As he pulled away from the hug, he realized that he hadn't hugged anyone besides his parents in forever until he met this group. But then again, he had never been involved with people dealing with rape and murder. So this was all pretty new.

Not trusting his speaking voice, Remy whispered, "I wish I could say something better than 'that sucks' or 'I'm sorry,' but that's kind of all I've got in my repertoire right now." He tried to smile, but probably failed as his eyes began to glimmer with tears. He gave the two of them a small wave as he left.

When he approached his room, he saw that Emmitt was standing outside it, apparently waiting for him. "What took you so long? I've been waiting for, like, five minutes."

"I was just talking to Landon and Renee. Is something up?"

"No... I just... didn't really feel like being alone tonight. I don't know."

Deciding not to ask any more questions, he simply said "okay" and opened his door.

They settled down on Remy's bed, got under the covers, and watched Netflix on his phone. Somehow, Emmitt had yet to see Big Mouth, so of course, he had to be introduced to it. Holding the phone up for both of them to see, Remy laid his head on Emmitt's shoulder. He was surprised by how comfortable he felt with him, especially after kissing him a few days prior. All the awkwardness was gone and sweet friendship had taken its place.

They were about four episodes deep when Allen walked in, eyes red and puffy from crying.

Remy sat up, "Hey, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it," he replied, trying to hide his face so he wouldn't see the sadness it portrayed.

Remy was just going to ignore the blatant lie, but Emmitt spoke up, "It's pretty obviously not nothing, man. So tell us what's wrong."

"It's none of your business," he snapped, still facing away from them. "It's personal."

"Then let's get personal," he awkwardly climbed off the bed over Remy and stood behind Allen. "You have something that's bothering you. Talking about it could help. No one's going to judge you here. Everyone's got problems, and that's not something we'd hold against you."

Allen spun around to roll his eyes and say, "My parents are getting divorced, okay? And there's not much to talk about."

"We could talk about how you feel about it."

"You're not a therapist. You can't fix any of this."

For whatever reason, Emmitt was very persistent in getting Allen to talk. "I could at least try."

"Will you leave me alone if I tell you how I feel?"

After some hesitation, he answered, "Yes. I promise."

He sat down on his bed, staring at his feet, "My parents have been trying to fix things for awhile. And I thought that after I'd gone to college, they'd be able to work things out without having a kid to take care of. But it turns out the only reason they made it that long was because they wanted to get me to college before splitting up." After a pause, he looked at Emmitt, eyes uninterested. "So what do you have to say to that?"

He shrugged, "My parents are divorced, too. They had me about three years after they married. It was a rocky relationship from the start, but they thought they could make it work by having me. They lasted two years after I was born. So, if we're comparing parental divorces, I'd say not being enough to keep your parents together is worse than having parents who love their child so much that they're able to stay together long enough to send him to college."

"Well, damn. Now I just feel bad for you."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I don't look at it that way. It's not my fault I was born. Besides, they would've gotten divorced even if I had been some angel child. Sorry about that. I didn't mean to get competitive, even if it's about whose parents' divorce was worse."

Allen stared at him for a minute, "Okay, somehow you made this conversation so much weirder than when it started. And it started with you forcing me to talk about my feelings. It was weird to begin with... Do you see what I'm saying?"

"Ooh... Yeah. So sorry about that. Just gonna..." he gestured behind him, "get back to... whatever."

As he made the awkward climb over Remy to get back onto the bed, Allen said, "That actually did help... uh, guy." They had not been properly introduced. "Strangely, I do feel better. So, thanks for that."

"No problem. But if you need to talk again, I will have to charge you. The first one's always free, but the next one won't be."

"Isn't that what people say when they're selling drugs?"

"I, myself, am a drug. You get a taste of me and you need more."

"Ooookay... Well, goodnight."

"Sweet dreams, silly bear."

Allen sent him a weirded-out glance that seemed to say, "Who even is this guy?" before turning out the lights, suspending the trio in darkness, except for the glow from Remy's phone.

They watched Netflix until they fell asleep, Emmitt feeling very satisfied after having made a kid feel better while simultaneously making him think he was a lunatic.