Born Again

Chapter eighteen

After practice, Minho asked Thomas if he and Newt wanted to go do something not ice cream related.

   "We can't," Newt said. "We're going to Tommy's," he explained.

   "We are?" Thomas asked.

   "Yup."

   "What do you need to go to Thomas' for," Minho asked, confusion clear on his face.

   Newt thought for a few seconds. "Tommy and I have to . . . talk."

   Minho seemed to pick up on the meaning behind the simple word because he frowned. "Like talk talk?"

   Newt nodded.

   "Are you sure you want to?" Minho asked, glancing warily at Thomas. "Because you don't—"

   "I want to," Newt interrupted. He gave Thomas a small smile. "I trust him. It'll be fine."

   Minho sighed. "Alright." He opened his arms for a hug to which Newt immediately obliged.

   When they pulled back, Minho whispered something then turned to Thomas.

   "This has nothing to do with anything," he said, clapping Thomas on the shoulders with a forced grin. "But, just remember, I can beat you if I want to."

   Newt gave him a hard shove, telling him off as Thomas laughed.

   Once Minho was gone, he turned back to Newt. "So my place?" He asked.

   "My sister has friends over," Newt explained. "Wouldn't want to be interrupted."

   "Got it," Thomas said. "My house should be empty. Though my room is probably a mess." He scratched the back of his head. With all the homework and hanging out with Newt and Minho, he barely had time to sleep anymore.

   Newt just shrugged. "Can't be that bad. Come on."

~~~

They arrived at Thomas' house a few minutes later.

   Surprisingly, Mom was already home and, judging by the smell, she was baking something.

"Hey Thomas?" She called from the kitchen. "I'm home early so I made some cookies. You want one?"

He was still surprised at her being home but decided cookies would probably make the whole situation better for Newt.

"Sure," Thomas answered, walking over and gesturing for Newt to follow. "Can Newt have some too?"

"Of course!" She answered cheerfully. "Newt is always welcome over to have cookies." She offered the plate.

"Thank you, Ms. Murphy," Newt said with a polite smile. "But I'm not very hungry right now."

"You sure?" Thomas asked, noticing the strained smile on his friend's face.

He nodded.

"Alright. If you're sure," Thomas said with a shrug. "We're going to be in my room, Mom. Just yell really loudly if you need anything."

Mom laughed, her eyes crinkling in the corners. "I will."

Thomas led Newt back to his room.

   It was, in fact, a mess.

   "Sorry," Thomas said, hurriedly pushing the clothes off of his bed and straightening the covers. "I, uh, didn't think anybody would—"

   "It's fine," Newt said, sitting down. He patted the spot next to him for Thomas. "Don't worry about it."

   Thomas sat, playing with the hem of his shirt awkwardly. "So," He said, not sure of what to say.

   "So," Newt agreed.

   "So," Thomas said again, making Newt chuckle and breaking the tension.

   "So," Newt said again, his smile already disappearing. "I don't know where to start. I guess I was in a bad place, hated life. So I decided to . . ." He took a shaky breath. "Decided to end it. That's it, really."

   Thomas forced down the emotion that was building in his throat. "But why?" He asked. "What was wrong?"

   Newt looked down. "It was after my parents died and we moved here. It was . . . it was hard. Really hard," he explained. "You know, even though both my parents were gone, I could still feel something was missing. I felt empty."

   Thomas wanted to apologize about his parents, but he knew that saying sorry wouldn't change anything. The best thing he could do was just be there for his friend.

   So that's what Thomas did, putting a hand on Newt's back and giving him an encouraging nod to continue.

   Newt was quiet for a few seconds. "Do you know what it feels like to be overwhelmed with absolutely nothing?"

   Thomas shook his head. He had no idea.

   "Well, that's what it felt like," he continued. "When I wasn't overcome with grief I just felt an overwhelming void of nothingness. It was too much for me, I couldn't take it anymore. So I went to the tallest tree I could find and I climbed up and I—" his voice broke. "I jumped off it."

   Thomas immediately pulled his friend into a hug. "It's okay, Newt. You're okay. You're here now, that's all that matters."

Newt took a shaky breath. "I know. I know but it was horrible," he said. "I broke my leg, snapped it in three different places. I wanted that to be it." He clung to Thomas tighter. "But then Minho found me. Somehow. He scooped me up and took me straight to the hospital." He sighed. "I don't want to think about what would've happened if he hadn't come."

   "Then don't," Thomas told him, rubbing his back. "Don't think about it. Think about now. Not the past, not the future, just the present. And in the present you are okay."

   Newt sniffed but nodded. Thomas felt his shirt wet with tears.

   "Newt?" He asked.

   Newt looked up, his face stained red.

   "Are you okay?" He asked. "I mean, not just right now. I mean are you okay?"

   Newt nodded, wiping at his face. "I am. Minho helped. Sonya, Alby, my grandmother, they were all there for me. But I'm better now. I promise. It's just terrible to think of what I would've put my friends through if . . .if I—"

   "But you didn't," Thomas told him. "You survived. And that's a good thing too because, otherwise, you wouldn't have met me."

   Newt chuckled, some of the usual sparkle returning to his eyes. "One of the pros of not being dead, I s'pose"

   "And cookies," Thomas reminded. "And my Mom's cookies are the best."

   Newt smiled and his whole body seemed to relax. "Well, then it'd be a shame to miss them."