It was a book of secrets, leather bound with pages poured over so many times they were creased and turning yellow. It was a book in which Jeff Hardy had recorded the last three years of his life. Writing in it from sophomore year until after graduation had been the only therapy he'd allowed himself the luxury of. Those scrawled lines had kept him from the brink of suicide and almost sane; at least what he thought passed for sanity.

Things had been better after graduation. Senior year he had started running the track at the high school at night. He began putting more energy into working out than he had into escaping his demons by trying to drown them in alcohol. He had become stronger. The money he had gotten for graduation had not gone for a car but for martial arts lessons. He was no longer afraid. He could fight. He could fight back. He could fight anyone.

Because of all this he felt no need to hide his secrets between the study covers of the journal anymore. With a great sense of satisfaction he had pitched it in the neighbor's garbage can at the end of the drive. The neighbors were in their seventies, they could barely get out to throw the garbage, much less snoop through it.

Out of sight, out of mind.

"Matt!! For the last time, get off the phone and take out the trash! Or…Or I'm taking your keys again!!"

In the next room Jeff merely grinned to himself and turned up his stereo. No car meant no keys to take away.

"I work all day at a regular job and then I still have to come here and do chores too? Is it not enough that I'm pitching in for the groceries and paying my own insurance?!" Matt grumbled all the way down the hall.

"You have a practically new car and your college education is paid for so you'll be spared the hard labor of bagging groceries all your life. You poor, mistreated, deprived child!" His father's voice dripped a sarcasm that followed Matt out the door.

What a shock, their garbage was already full. If he sat the bag on the curb, dogs would get into it and he'd just have to pick it all up again. He scanned up and down the street then walked a ways up, peering under the lids to find one with room.

He picked it up.

Who'd throw away a book? Were pages missing or what?

He opened it.

Handwriting! It was someone's journal. He shrugged and tucked it under one arm. If it turned out to be lame and boring he could always just throw it away again. Who knew what secrets could be in it. Maybe it was something he could use to make some money. Maybe it contained the torrid affairs of the mayor or parish priest or his old high school principal.

Making his way back inside, he tossed it on the table next to his bed. It would be several days before he found the opportunity to open it.

Matt always had a hard time winding down and going to sleep after getting off a late shift at work. His body and mind were still programmed to be up and moving and it was hard to shift back into relaxation mode. Usually this was when he snuck a few beers into his room and played some music on his headphones and dreamed of being somewhere else.

He had the beer, he had the music, he glanced over………the book! This would be as good a waste of time as any. He sat down crossed legged on the bed, opened his first beer of the night and flipped the book open. For some reason the handwriting looked a little familiar. It also had the look of a little kid; a kid who never practiced his cursive much. It looked like a mess. He squinted and after a bit he was able to decipher the first few words. Once he got used to the odd formations of the letters he was on a roll.

4/25 4 am

I'm drunk again.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. I don't know a lot. I don't know for sure if I'm gay. I don't even know how or exactly what happened a few nights ago because I was drunk then too. But I do know that's not the way it was supposed to be.

It started out so cool. He was actually paying attention to me. I couldn't believe it. When he kept bringing me drinks……..I mean, who was I to say no? I'd waited forever just to get him to look at me. I couldn't let him think I was the one member of junior varsity that was a pussy. I mean, he's the captain of the-------------I shouldn't say here. But he is a senior and I'm just a sophomore. And…

He was so hot. I guess the thing was h e looked a lot like Matt. I trusted him because of that. I let my guard down.

He was big and strong and had those brown eyes. I've never understood why Matt's were brown and mine were green….

Matt stopped, blinking. He took a deep drink of his MGD and swallowed . Can't be. Cannot possibly be. One sharp breath and he tried reading more.

When I wanted him to stop, I asked first, then I demanded. Then when that didn't work I kept slamming my fists into his chest. It was like hitting a brick wall. The more I fought, I swear the more he liked it. I think it made him more excited. And soon we were both so sweaty and worked up, and he was so close, and he looked and smelled so good…..

The words on the page cut off in a jagged scratch of ink.

5/7

It's been several days now. I can't stop thinking about it. I tell myself maybe it wasn't that bad. Maybe if I had been more drunk I could have just enjoyed it or something. If I'd been more drunk I wouldn't have remembered. I have to tell myself that it didn't really hurt. I don't know why. Parts I did black out because I don't remember him hitting me, but when I got home and looked in the mirror, my mouth was all cut up.

I told everyone I'd gone to a show after the party and got in a circle pit. I think Shan's suspicious. He's the only one who acted like he didn't believe me. No one else cared so I didn't say anything. I think I was raped by another guy. Who do I tell that to, the school counselor? (beside this was a face with turned up, rolling eyes)

I'm starting to have nightmares. And I'm starting to dream about Matt. It's so odd.

From now on though, I'm planning on staying drunk as much as possible.

Matt's heart was racing and his vision blurred, making the scrawling letters bleed together. That's why the handwriting looked familiar at first. It was Jeff's. It was his little brother's.

He closed his eyes trying to remember Jeff coming home with bruises his sophomore year. It was impossible. He couldn't remember. He'd been so caught up in himself he had barely paid Jeff any attention. And who was the guy who did it? Was it someone he'd known? Is that why Jeff didn't say? His chest tightened at the images the words brought to mind and with a shaking hand he turned to the next entry. Maybe the next entry would tell him who it was. He glanced over at the dresser. His keys were still there. The instant he saw a name he was going straight over and killing someone. He didn't care if it was two years before, no one hurt his little brother. He bit at his lip and forced the anger down, trying to focus.

6/18

Something isn't right with me. Something has happened. Mentally.

I can't stop thinking about what happened that night. It is all I think about. But when I play it back in my head, it's me and Matt. And he's not hurting me and I'm not fighting him. And it feels really good.

And now I can't even look at Matt anymore. It freaks me out. I feel………odd. Tingly and nauseous and……..dirty. But I sort of like it. And I like being near him. And I can't tell anyone. I …think……it's like……..I'm attracted to him. Those things I'm thinking……….they're getting more specific…..they're getting more…………..

Something has to be wrong with me.

And school is out and all I have to do is hang around the house with him.

I.
Am.
Freaking.
Out.

7/15

Matt came home drunk tonight and went into my room by mistake. I let him. I didn't say a word when he fell on my bed and pulled the covers off me, completely oblivious to me lying there.

I curled up next to him. Either he didn't know or didn't care. So close I could smell him. OR really……it was the liquor I could smell. And the feel of Matt so close. I started to remember, to think.

And Matt was right there.

I just……….I couldn't take it.

When I was sure he was completely passed out……….I……….I…

…..yeah……

I had to try and be really still with the rest of my body and try and be quiet too. But oh my god, when I came it was like nothing else I've ever felt in my life. I came so hard I screamed. I know I did.

The instant I felt Matt move I hit the floor and lay really still until I was sure he was back to sleep again. Then I crept over to his room and fell asleep in his bed. But not before I got off at least one more time.

Just being in his bed, his sheets, his pillow, the scent of him.

But as incredible as it was, today I just want to die.

I can't believe I did that.

It can't happen again. I have to stay away from him at all costs.

If he had any idea how I felt, he'd kill me.

Still, I can't help but hope he comes home drunk more often.

Matt slammed the book shut, unable to breathe. He shot down the last of the bottle of beer in one gulp and reached for the other one. He could feel his blood coursing through his veins like fire and the room closed in and spun all at once. He wanted to throw the book like a discus, so far he could never find it again. But something caused him to open it back up and read.

9/1

Something awful has happened. Something terrible.

I didn't mean it and I can't find him to say I'm sorry.

Oh god……….

Shan had been acting odd since that night. I told you he didn't believe the mosh pit story. He must have seen us leave together. I don't know.

He wanted me to help him score something to drink so I said sure. We ended up with like two bottles of Mad Dog and two bottles of Boone's. We went through all of it.

Then Shannon was sitting really close to me, talking real soft and leaning on my shoulder. I thought he was just………well, drunk.

And then he leaned up and started kissing me.

That's when I blacked out. Literally.

I have never lost time like that. Except………

One minute he's trying to kiss me and then next I swear I looked down and he was on the floor. He was curled up, and there was ……….blood. Lot's of it.

I looked down, my knuckles were cut but the blood was not coming from me.

I reached down to him and he curled up tighter in this ball and covered his face. That's when I realized he was crying.

I didn't know what to do. We were out in the park by the lake. We were the only ones around. Every time I said I was sorry or tried to touch him he jerked away.

Finally I begged him to let me take him home. I guess he was more afraid of spending the night in the park alone than he was afraid of me. I tried to help him up. …………

I had hurt him so bad he could barely walk. I couldn't even see what his face looked like for all the blood. I think he'd cut his forehead on a rock, his mouth and nose were pouring blood too. I got him as far as the corner of his street and jumped out of the car at the stop sign, limping to his house and not looking back.

He won't return my calls.

I didn't mean it.

9/6

He's gone.

Shannon hadn't been at lunch since the day before that night. Finally I started asking around. When I asked during practice, Mike Massey, who has a big mouth anyway, said------loud enough for everyone to hear----SOMEONE BEAT HIM UP BECAUSE HE'S GAY! HIS DAD MADE HIM SWITCH SCHOOL'S. FAGGOT GOT WHAT HE DESERVED IF YOU ASK ME!

By the end of school word had gotten out that Shannon was gay. Everyone knew. He had told no one who did it. He told no one it was me. His phone's been disconnected and I'm too ashamed to go over to his house.

I just want to die. I hate myself so much. How could I have done that?

Matt closed the book, lost in memories.

"Hey Jeff? What's up with Shannon? He used to come over everyday after school. I hadn't seen him in while."

Jeff had kept his head down when he answered.

". . . he moved."

Matt stuffed the book under his bed and staggered to Jeff's room. He stood there, leaning in the doorway until Jeff looked up.

"Hey."

"Hey man." Matt mumbled.

A few minutes passed and when Matt had not moved Jeff looked up again.

"You okay? Can't sleep again?"

"I, um…yeah." Matt's head spun with a million things he wanted to say, a million questions he wanted to ask, but there was no way to even know how to begin . "Hey Jeff..?" Matt was sure if he managed to get out one more word he was going to start crying.

"Yeah. Matt? What's wrong, man?"

"I just wanted to let you know….." He took a breath. "You turned out okay. I'm glad you're my brother. I'm proud of you."

"Aw dude, you're drunk." Jeff shook his head. "Go sleep it off. When you're back to bitching at me for using all the hot water to wash my hair in the morning, then we'll talk."

Did his brother still love him? Did he still need him? Did he still want him?

How on earth could he even ask these things.

"Okay." He ducked his head. "Goodnight Jeff." He lowered his voice. "love you."

If Jeff responded Matt didn't hear, the beating of his heart drowned it out.