Finally, when my eye was burning and my throat was dry, I bit my tongue and forced my sobs silent. I slowly pulled away from Arik and stood still to calm my whirling stomach. He wiped my cheek with his sleeve and pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket for my to blow my nose.

"You poor kid," he sighed, wiping his own face with his hand. "I had no idea you were hurting that badly."

I fingered the handkerchief. It had been worn soft from years of usage, and it smelled like the airship. Arik's initials had been scrawled in the corner with permanent marker.

"Come on, let's sit down," he said, and I let him nudge me to the couch. I sat down at one end and pulled my knees up to my chest, feeling wrung out like a rag. Arik sat down on the coffee table across from me. He looked like he'd just watched someone die�or close enough. I wondered how I looked in comparison.

"You don't have to sit there and counsel me," I murmured, looking away.

"But�!"

"I'll be okay."

"You're definitely not okay."

I pressed my face into my knees. "Thank you for hugging me, but I don't think you can help anymore. You don't understand."

Arik slumped forwards, his hands clasped between his legs. "Harry, I'm worried about you. Really worried. I want to help you any way I can."

"You can't."

"You don't get it, do you?" he sighed.

"Get what?"

He ran a hand across his face, up his forehead, and through his hair. "I've been through the same thing you have. I know exactly how you feel."

I scowled at him. "Don't give me that shit! How can you possibly know what it feels like? You're the perfect one! You're the reason Mum and Dad hate me!"

"Mum and Dad don't hate you, and at any rate, didn't you say that you thought they'd treat you the same even without me?"

"Shut up," I hissed, irritated that he was trying to dissect my hysterical ranting. "And stop trying to pretend they adore me. They can't stand me, and you know it."

He shifted. "I know they're tough on you, and that they say things they shouldn't. Believe me, Harry, I live there, too. I see it! I hear it! God knows Dad says hurtful things�I've heard my fair share, I assure you. But regardless of how tough they are, or how angry they get, they still love you. You're their son�they'll always love you."

"It sounds nice, in theory. I'd like to believe that, but� I don't know� Deep down, I can't make myself believe it anymore."

Arik opened and closed his mouths a few times, searching for the right words. "Well," he said finally, "I love you."

I looked up at him.

"You believe that, don't you?"

I shrugged.

"Please believe it. You are really important to me! You're my little brother�the only brother I've got! And I think you're a cool kid�I like being around you. I-I always thought we were friends? I tried to reach out to you�wasn't I always nice to you?"

I looked down and glared at me knees, feeling needlessly nasty. "Yeah, perfectly nice. Perfectly sweet and caring. Mum and Dad's perfect role model for me."

That really hurt him; I could tell by the stricken expression on his face. "Harry, I only wanted you to know that I cared about you. I wasn't doing it for Mum and Dad. Screw them! I want you as a part of my life! You have no idea how much you mean to me!"

"Bullshit," I snapped, my temper flaring again.

Arik slammed his fist on the coffee table and jumped up. "You're the reason I'm fucking alive, do you know that?!"

"What?!"

Arik stopped for a second. Eyes closed, breathing hard, he paused and ran his hand through his hair again. "I'm the farthest thing from perfect. I'm an insecure bastard, and I always have been. Every time I look in the mirror, I want to cry, because I can't believe how much I hate myself. I'm so fucked up, Harry, I'm such a fucked-up bastard�"

He stopped again and bit his lip, tears filling his eyes and spilling down his cheeks in glinting rivers. "Harry, Harry," he gasped, his voice over-taut, "when I was your age, I tried to kill myself."

"What?!" I screamed, leaping up.

He had to sit down again�he sat down on the edge of the coffee table and collapsed forwards between his legs, his face in his hands.

"Dad used to have a gun," he whispered. "In the bottom drawer of the spare room upstairs. It was a typical handgun, and he taught me how to fire it to protect myself when I was on the ship." He sniffled loudly, trying desperately to compose himself. "High school was a nightmare for me. I was so insecure and shy�I had only one friend all through high school, and I loved him, but everything went bad for him, and he became depressed and suicidal. I knew I was gay, but I tried to deny it and to fight it�I was so scared, Harry�I didn't want to be gay! I thought if Mum or Dad ever found out, they'd disown me! They always acted so proud of me, and they expected me to keep making them proud. I tried to do everything they wanted�I tried so hard! I even got a fucking girlfriend to try to make myself straight for them. And all of it was a lie, a fa�ade! I couldn't be what they wanted me to be, so I faked it. I've been lying through my fucking teeth since ninth grade�I've faked so many smiles and laughs, they wouldn't recognize me if I smiled honestly. I hate doing it, Harry, I hate living like this, but I've had to�I've always had to! When I was in high school, I had to hide who I really was because I was afraid that if they ever found out how sad and insecure and fucking queer I was, they wouldn't love me anymore."

He couldn't hold back the tears. "It got so bad, Harry. My best friend tried to kill himself, and they took him away, and I never saw him again. I loved him more than life itself, and I never got to tell him. I blamed myself for what he did, and without him, I got so lonely and so scared�I lost hope; I gave up. All I could think about was ending all the pain and leaving the world before Dad would have to know that I was a faggot. I just couldn't deal with another day of the lying and the faking and the insecurity and the self-hatred!"

He took a deep breath, his eyes still closed. "I figured a bullet was the best way out�no chance of failure. Not like Roger's way�he survived that, and all it got him was years of more pain."

Horrorstruck, I stared. I couldn't be hearing this�this couldn't be true�Arik, my perfect brother, had tried to kill himself?! I was going to be sick�of all people in the world, Arik?!

He finally opened his eyes and met mine; his eyes were so pained they hurt me, but I couldn't tear my own away. "I had it to my head, Harry." He reached up and touched his temple. "I meant it�I completely intended to do it. I almost�I almost pulled the trigger."

My palms were sweating and my heart was racing�I felt so sick! "W-what stopped you? Why didn't you do it?" I whispered, horrified and fascinated.

He wiped his eyes and looked at me, his face creased into a strange, sad smile. "You stopped me."

"What? I-I don't remember-!"

He took his handkerchief back from me and wiped his nose with it. "You were just a little kid. Five or six, maybe. You weren't supposed to be home that day, and you caught me off guard. You came into the room, and I barely had time to hide the gun. You started to talk to me. You gave me a picture that you'd made for me because you thought I'd seemed sad lately. It was a crayon drawing of you and me and some stuff. And at the top you wrote 'I love you, Arik.'"

"I don't remember," I whispered.

Arik smiled through his tears. "You sensed that I was sad, so you gave me a hug and told me not to be sad because you loved me and you thought I was the best big brother in the world, even if I was kind of weird. You asked me to be your friend because none of the other kids would play with you." He reached over and took my hands in his. "Harry, I couldn't kill myself after that. It was so simple and so honest, and it made me rethink everything. Knowing that you loved me unconditionally, and that you would miss me if I were gone�I just couldn't go through with it."

"Arik!" I sobbed.

"It sounds stupid, but you were the only one I had. You were too little to care if I was gay, and you didn't want me to be anything other than your brother. You always acted like I was so important to you, and even though I treated you horribly, you still wanted to be with me. I can't even tell you how much that meant to me, considering how much I hated myself. You've always been the only one who I thought would always love me no matter what. You never cared that I was gay or made me feel bad about it. Do you have any idea how much that means to me? I've always thought that so long as I have you, at least I have one ally, one reason to live. That-that's why I got so upset when you said you hated me. Please, Harry, I don't want you to hate me�I'm sorry for anything I ever did to you!�I'm sorry I made Mum and Dad so hard on you-I love you, Harry, I love you so much, I just�!"

I threw my arms around his neck. "I'm sorry!" I cried into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry! I'm sorry I said I hated you and that I wished you were dead�I don't hate you! I-I love you, too!" Christ, how could I pretend I didn't? "Please don't kill yourself!"

He wrapped his arms around my back. "I won't, Harry. I've never�tried a second time. I've never gotten that bad again. I don't want to die! I want to see you and Romey grow up, and I want to find Bryce again, and I want to pilot this damn airship!"

I pulled back and sat on my knees, and he smiled at me, "Don't worry about me, really."

"I can't believe you tried to kill yourself!" I sniffled. "You really meant it?"

He rubbed his eyes. "I did. If you'd walked in ten seconds later, I wouldn't be here now."

The notion still stunned me�Arik had almost died�he had almost shot himself in the head-and I'd saved his life?

"I-I can't even imagine that�I can't even fathom what it would have been like if you hadn't been there." No Arik, for all those years? No competition, no favoritism�no Bryce?

"From the sound of things, you would have been better off," he replied sadly.

That put a sick feeling in my stomach. "It would have been so different. Not necessarily better. Do Mum and Dad know you tried to kill yourself?"

Arik laughed dryly. "Hell, no. No one does. I've never told anyone that I tried to commit suicide�not even Bryce. It's not something I'm proud of."

"Then why did you tell me?" I asked.

He sat back with a low sigh. "Because�well, if I'm going to tell anyone, it may as well be you. I want you to know that I'm not bullshitting you when I say that I really do care about you. I feel like I owe my life to you. I know you don't remember it, but for me�it's something I'll never forget. You were there for me when I'd given up on everyone and everything, and I want to repay you for that.

"I really do want to help you! I understand why you get so upset with Mum and Dad�believe me, I do. I have the same parents. They put so much pressure on us because they care about us, and they want us to be the best we can possibly be. Their hearts are in the right place, but they overdo it. Christ, they traumatized me! They had me so afraid to disappoint them that it took me until college to come out! And even then, I thought they were going to disown me! Hell, if Bryce hadn't forced me to tell them, they probably still wouldn't know."

I couldn't believe I was hearing this. This was Human Perfection? Human Perfection had feelings and insecurities�he worried about Mum and Dad's disapproval?

"Don't get me wrong, they've been pretty supportive. They didn't kick me out, at any rate. I can kind of see where you're coming from, thinking that I'm the ideal son or whatever. That's what they want me to be, and since I'm afraid of losing them, that's what I give them. It's all total bullshit, all superficial crap. I've been lying to them since I was a teenager, so they have no idea what a loser I really am. If they did, I assure you, they'd spend more time yelling at me than you."

"But you seem so close to them�especially Dad! You're always having those deep discussions with him, and he's always talking about you," I pointed out.

Arik laughed, but it was not a happy sound. "You're kidding me, right? Do you know what we talk about? Airship parts! The weather! We haven't discussed anything meaningful in years. He's never really gotten over the disappointment of having a gay son, so he tends to ignore it. He never asks about my social life or my opinion on things�and he certainly never asks about Bryce. If I say something he doesn't like, he drops some subtle innuendo to remind me to be more stoic and macho. You wouldn't believe some of the things he's said to me."

I remembered Dad's "joke." I could imagine very well indeed what Dad might have said.

"Well, Mum adores you," I pointed out.

"Admitted, Mum is a lot kinder and more accepting than Dad, but she gets caught up on stupid stuff, and she does whatever Dad tells her to do. She has a real problem with me being sad, too. Hell, after I lost my best friend, she yelled at me to stop crying and get over it when I really needed help."

"They only like us when we're happy and obedient. Anything else is unacceptable," I said.

"You took the words right out of my mouth."

"They still love you more, though."

"Harry, haven't you been listening? They don't love me; they love the mask I wear, the act I put on. They love their skewed perception, not the reality. Yeah, they tell you to be smart and handsome and obedient like me, but they never mention that I'm insecure and weepy and ditzy, do they? They never mention that I'm queer as a three-dollar bill."

I thought about how chipper he always seemed, about how his voice was always giggly and high-pitched, and about how his radiant smile could outshine a solar flare. That was all an act?

"So you're trying to tell me that everything you say and do at home is part of an act?" I asked, in disbelief.

"A lot of it is. Not all�I can't keep it up forever. Mum and I had a bad argument a few weeks back that unnerved she, Dad, and I for days. I won't make that mistake again. It's hard to smile so much when I feel like shit, but it's the only way to keep the peace. I have no desire to spark any more arguments�there's enough yelling in that house as is."

"You act around me, then," I said. "I thought you said I was the only one you didn't have to act around."

He looked away, guilty. "Yeah. It gets to be habit. And you've been so upset lately, I didn't want to mess things up. Still, I tried to reach out to you, Harry! Couldn't you tell?"

"Mostly you came off as an obnoxious imbecile�and Mum and Dad's little henchman. Pissed me off."

He looked hurt. "I was trying to help you. I stood up for you with Mum and Dad more than once, you know. I was really, really worried about you."

"�You stood up for me?"

He shrugged shyly. "Well, yeah."

"I didn't know you were on my side."

He shrugged again. "Brothers should stick together."

I grinned.

"You know, I was trying to rescue you when I asked to have you spend the summer on the ship. I swear I wasn't trying to make you miserable. I'm sorry if you're angry," he said.

I folded my arms. "Well, they didn't even ask me if I wanted to work on the ship, they just ordered me to it and didn't listen to my objections. And you were being a dork. Of course I was angry."

"Are you still angry?" he asked delicately.

"I haven't decided yet."

"�Did you really smash a plate and throw a glass at Dad's head?"

"I broke three glasses and a plate. They told you about that?"

"They warned me to duck if you threw a temper tantrum."

"Did they really?" I snapped, indignant.

He was laughing. "You really do throw spectacular tantrums, I've got to hand it to you! You always have. As a kid, you were always bashing that poor stuffed Pikachu against everything�including me. No wonder its tail fell off."

"It's easy for you to say my 'tantrums' are great�Dad's never given you a black eye."

His grin fell.

"Arik," I said, thinking, "if you claim Mum and Dad love me unconditionally because I'm their son, then why are you so convinced they wouldn't love you anymore if you were yourself? You're their son, too. That's hypocritical."

He chewed on his knuckle. "�I don't know. I don't understand things any better than you do."

"You were just trying to make me feel better, then, when you said that. You didn't mean it."

"They do love you, Harry. They wouldn't have worried themselves sick that night you ran away if they didn't care about you," he countered.

"They love you, too. I overheard that argument you had with Mum�why would she have gotten so upset if she wasn't concerned about you? Seriously, Arik, I know they're weird about you being gay, but you're still their favorite person in the world. From the way they talk about you, you'd think you cured cancer."

He looked away, looking like he was the kid being counseled, and not me.

"I think you put way too much weight into being gay," I added. "So you like guys�who cares? Mum and Dad didn't kick you out, and no one's trying to burn you at the stake. Hell, you guys are making a lot of headway in society. Someday you'll probably be able to get married. It's not worth killing yourself over�it's not even worth moping about."

"You can say that because you didn't see the look on Dad's face when I came out to him," Arik muttered. "You can say that because you weren't there when Bryce was nearly beaten to death by gay-bashers. You can say that because you've never been called a faggot."

I laughed. "Yeah, I have! I get called gay slurs on a daily basis!"

"You do?"

"Yeah. Mostly by kids at school. Dad has called me a faggot before."

"He has?!"

"Yeah, because he said I dressed like more of a fag than you did. Besides, a lot of people in town have heard rumors that one of the Redde boys is gay. Guess which one they think it is."

Arik laughed. "Cripes, sorry about that."

I shrugged. "Doesn't bother me. �I'm sorry for using slurs against you, though. I didn't mean them. I only say them to bother Dad. I won't do it any more."

"Thank you. I shouldn't let the slurs bother me�they're only words, right?-but they hurt. I'm over-sensitive about it."

"Why are you so insecure about it?" I asked. "Are all gay people like you?"

He snorted. "Definitely not! I'm just insecure by nature. I'd find something to hate about myself even if I was straight. It never bothered Bryce whatsoever. He was open and unapologetic. And society is getting better about it. But I�I dunno, I still have a hard time with it."

"You're homophobic," I said, surprised.

"Basically."

I leaned back against the couch, still in disbelief of what he was saying. It was hard to believe that this man�this scared, confused homophobe�was the same person as the chipper, smiley, perfect brother I'd lived with for the past few years. He looked pathetic to me, slumping on the coffee table with his hands clasped and his eyes lowered in shame. It made me sad to see him like that�sad, because now I cared how he felt. This was a strange night indeed.

I stood up and hugged him around his neck again. He laughed softly, and I pulled away and sat back down on the couch.

"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed. "I'm supposed to be helping you, and I'm going all whiney and self-absorbed!"

"You are helping me!" I disagreed. "It's good to know I'm not the only one with a complex about Mum and Dad. Plus�at least I'm getting to know you. Probably a good thing, since I'm here all summer."

"So you're going to stay?"

I grinned. "It's not like I have much of a choice anyway."

"You're not going to run away again?"

"I won't run away unless I have a reason to."

"Please don't. You don't want me to worry about you, do you? Because you don't want to see me like that again�oh my God, I got so nervous and I was running around in circles and practically hyperventilating!"

I snorted. "All right, all right."

He smiled. "You're so cool, Harry, you know that?"

"What?"

"No, I'm serious! Forgive me for getting sappy and sensitive here�hey, I'm Arik, it's what I do�but I-I admire you."

I doubled over with laughter. "Right! Feel free to join the legions of adoring fans who want to be just like me!"

"Don't laugh at me! I mean it! You're so confident and strong-willed and bold! You're totally cool!"

"Compared to what?" I gasped, in hysterics. "A senior citizen?"

"I'm serious! Like, you've got your own style and you keep with it even though Mum and Dad don't like it. You know who you are, and you don't pretend to be something you're not, even if you suffer for it. You've got your own group of friends who love you for you and would stick with you through anything. You're also a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. Plus, you're wicked tough, what with your eyes and everything."

"Yes, yes, it does take a steadfast heart to survive high school as a kid with one eye!" I hooted.

"Hey, I wouldn't want to do it! I get nervous if my sideburns aren't equal! And I guess it's kind of stupid of me, as I'm a full decade older than you, but I almost look up to you."

"Please tell me you're kidding!"

"I'm not! Hear me out! You're real, Harry. You don't hide your feelings and pretend everything is fine all the time. You don't have anything to prove to anyone. You're just you, and there's no compromising yourself for others. You speak your mind, and you don't back down. You have a very strong personality. I like that in people. I think that's one reason why I love Bryce so much and why I enjoy your company."

I contemplated this. I guess he was right, although I'd never considered being hotheaded, stubborn, and loud-mouthed to be beneficial traits. "So you actually like me?"

"Of course!" Suddenly his face changed, and he threw up his hands. "You know I mean that in a totally brotherly way, right? I-I'm not implying any sort of weird stuff�oh my God, I'm so not like that at all!"

I snorted and fell over on the couch. He looked so funny, waving his arms around and assuring me that he wasn't some incestuous pedophile. "You are so weird," I declared.

"Hey, don't laugh! You'd be surprised by the kinds of things people can think of! Hell, Grandma and Grandpa still don't think I should be allowed in the same room as you, lest you catch homo cooties or something."

Right�I hadn't thought about good 'ole Grandma and Grandpa Redde in awhile, the other Redde family skeleton-in-the-closet, probably because they're currently banned from our household for disowning Arik after he came out�a big, nasty issue from my young childhood that I remembered mostly as a lot of crying and yelling. They're snarky bigots, but they live in Florida, and we never hear from them, so they're no problem of mine. Nor Arik's, I'd assumed, as Mum and Dad had come to his full rescue and supported him through the whole ordeal, just another thing proving that he was their beloved, darling son.

I hadn't realized that it still bothered him. How stupid of me�his grandparents had disowned him. How could it not bother him? Poor Arik! No wonder he was so insecure!

Arik was still rambling. "But, I mean�you're my brother! No offense or anything, but that is SO GROSS! I mean, Gawd, you'd never go after Romey! You just wouldn't!"

Oh, Christ, Arik, I don't even know you at all.

He sighed, calming back down to a more serious state. "Okay. I'm totally babbling. Look, the point I'm trying to make here is that I love you and you mean the world to me. I don't want you to be unhappy�I've been really worried."

"I think I'm okay," I said, and it was the truth. Maybe it was because I'd lost several quarts worth of body mass through my tears, but I felt lighter. Tonight I had found someone who loved me and could commiserate with me�things were better already.

"You sure? I don't want you to go through one second of what I did." He paused for a moment. "You're not�that bad off, are you? Would you tell me if you ever thought of-of you know, hurting or killing yourself?"

I shook my head fervently. "No, I've never wanted to kill myself! I want to change my life, not end it! I've never even thought about it seriously. And I don't cut, either. I just sulk a lot."

"Well, good! I'm really glad to hear that!" He stood up and glanced at the clock. "Oh my God! It's almost two a.m.! No wonder I feel like I'm ready to pass out!" He looked back down at me. "Well, now that you've realized that I'm a complete and utter psychopath with enough emotional baggage to fill an ocean liner, do you want to be friends? Mum and Dad are miles from here, and it's just us. If you want to hate me when you go back home, okay, but this summer doesn't have to suck. What do you say, buddy?"

I considered this, rubbing my chin, teasing him. "Under one circumstance: my name is HARRIS, not Harry, and if you ever call me buddy again, I'll throw your new pair of khakis overboard."

"Okay, okay!" he laughed, and he noogied the top of my head with his fist.

next chapter...