by Lacey Dailey
“Of course we can.”
“I was really fucking pissed when she disappeared, man.” Thickness threatened to clog my throat. “I was so mad when they just decided she was dead. I mean, who the fuck were they, ya know? They had no body, no clues, no reason at all to believe she wasn’t still out there.”
His hand tightened on mine.
“But they did anyway, and the whole time I kept thinking if I was a police officer, I wouldn’t just be settling. I wouldn’t have just thrown in the towel when the case hit a dead end.” He used his free hand to wipe away a tear I didn’t realize was on my face. “I was just walking around with this giant empty space in my chest and in my life where she was supposed to be, and I vowed that if I ever became some sort of officer, I would make sure that nobody felt the way I did.”
“Brett, do you… do you want to join the police force?”
I nodded, but it wasn’t enough. “Yes,” I said, out loud for the first time ever. “Yeah, Ace. I think I do.”
His toothy grin eased some of my nerves. “You should do that, B.”
“Do you think I’d be doing it for the wrong reasons though? Like one day if… if I don’t struggle so much and Sage is in the best place she could be…”
“Would you still want to help people if your sister didn’t need it anymore?”
I nodded.
“Brett, when you think about someone else’s sister going through what Sage did, what happens?”
Easy. “I get pissed. Feel helpless. Wanna throw my fist through a wall.”
His thumb brushed my cheek lightly. I stopped myself from shuddering. “Does that sound like a guy who is only doing it for his sister?”
“I just know she’s the reason I’m doing this. That if she never disappeared, I’d be a chemist in a lab somewhere, my attention on a microscope.”
“Trauma changes people, Brett. Takes you down a path you didn’t choose.”
“Rocky or smooth?”
“What?”
“I can’t figure out which way to go. If my path is rocky or smooth.” I felt like I was in a super uncomfortable place in my life where the brother before Sage disappeared was gone, but this new guy hadn’t totally been born yet. I’d been in the middle of a transformation, terrified to push forward for years.
“I think that’s for you to choose, B.”
“Not sure I can turn down one alone.” That had been my problem for years. Granted, things had gotten easier in the last few months. I took one step forward by dropping out of college. Another step when I quit my job. But actually jogging all the way down the path? I wasn’t sure I was ready.
“Who said you had to do it alone?” He squeezed my hand again. “Want me to be there when you look up some information?”
“Duh.”
He smiled, adjusting his spot on the couch. Our knees bumped together. I noticed the small tear in the kneecap of the sweats he was wearing. Then I scanned his faded Mario and Luigi T-shirt, taking in the still beeping microwave. “How come you didn’t go to work today?” My eyes widened. “Shit. Did you quit too?”
He chuckled. “No. Just took a day off. Last night was rough.”
“Something happen at Pathways?” I frowned. “You didn’t get back until really late.” I hadn’t heard him come home until almost four in the morning. I knew he usually stayed late to help breakfast meal prep for the kids he mentored, but that was two hours later than most days. “Everything okay with the kids?”
“Yeah.” He lifted his hand from my face and scratched the back of his neck. “Let’s just say I had a lot of questions that went unanswered.”
“I’ll answer them.”
His lips tugged into a sad smile. “Not sure you can answer these ones, B.”
“Try me.”
“I think I’ll stick to the dumb ones.”
“They aren’t dumb. I love your questions.”
“Yeah, they are.” His eyelids flutter closed. “But it’s okay. I won’t stop asking them. I don’t think I can.”
Ace Jackson wasn’t a hard person to see. Not if you really took the time to look. And I looked at Ace all the time. I couldn’t stop. I saw more than what I’m sure he intended for me to see, but it only made me appreciate him and his questions more. Ace asked dumb questions so he wouldn’t be disappointed if he wasn’t met with an answer. If he asked questions that truly meant something to him, it would destroy him when he’s met with silence. Exactly like it destroyed him sixteen years ago when he asked his mom the one question he never got an answer to.
“Is this about your father?”
His eyes sprung open so fast, you would've thought I shoved his finger in an electrical socket. “No.”
“Okay.” I squeezed our hands, peering down at where we were connected. I realized then I was lazily playing with his fingers like they were mine to play with. They weren’t. But I thought I really wanted them to be.
“Hey, Brett?”
I lifted my head.
“It’s not about my father.”
“Okay.”
“But it used to be.”
I gave him an encouraging smile. “I know.”
“I like that you know.”
“Yeah?”
“Makes it easier to talk about.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
He shrugged against the couch cushion. “Still bugs me I don’t have an answer. After all these years, I still have no fucking clue why he left or where he went.” He shook his head. “It made no sense. He never fought with my mom. He was a super involved dad. I loved him, man. I sat on his bed while he packed a backpack and I told him about Wren and I beating SuperSmash for the first time. He kissed my head and told me he’d see me the next day." He let out a wheeze. "But he never came back.”
Baby.
“It kind of pisses me off that it still bugs me.” He made a noise like he was disappointed in himself. “It was more than a decade ago. Why can’t I just let it go?”
“Because you never got closure,” I whispered. “Never got an answer.”
“And I won’t ever get one,” he spat. “So what the fuck? Let it go, Ace. Let. It. Go.”
I squeezed his hand. “Ask me a question.”
“What? Why?”
“You need answers. I can’t give you the answer you want, but I sure as hell will try to give you all the others.”
The smile that spread across his face did me in. Ace always had a smile on the surface, with cheeks so pink it was like something you could lick or bite into. “I have to think of a really good one now.”
“They are all good ones.”
He put his finger on his chin and lifted his eyes to the ceiling, making a big show of thinking it over. His eyes beamed when they landed back on me. “Okay. I got one. You ready?”
“For you? Always.”
7
Brett
My eyes were on fire. My heart was racing. Sweat was running down the sides of my face and pooling into the scruff I had lining my cheeks.
Just one more mushroom. That was all I needed.
The finish line was so fucking close, I could practically taste the impending victory on the tip of my dry tongue. My thumbs were cramping. My neck was stiff but I didn’t take the time to try and crack it. I was too close to get distracted now.
“Brett! Go, go, go!” Ace was yelling, flailing his arms everywhere and threatening to whack me in the head with his controller. “GO!”
“I’m fucking going, A!” I shouted back, standing off the couch and moving closer to the television as if that would speed up time and send Mario and Luigi across the little checkered line that would finally make me a winner.
“Get a mushroom!” Ace hollered. “A mushroom, B!”
I gritted my jaw to the point of pain and pushed my thumb deeper into the button that acted as my acceleration. I frantically ran over every floating box that might have held a bright red mushroom. Those little magic fungi would grant me the turbo blast I
was becoming exceedingly desperate for.
“You’re almost there!” Ace bellowed, and even though I couldn’t see him anymore, I knew he was still flailing wildly. Like someone just shot him with a taser and he had no control over his limbs.
All the muscles in my body went taut as I stood there, unable to breathe while I inched closer and closer to the finish line. I was less than two seconds away when the bane of my existence and the woman who flooded my nightmares whizzed past me.
Princess Peach.
That bitch sped by me and flew across the finish line less than a second before I could. She whacked my car in the process and sent my men spinning. The music of doom flooded the living room. I watched in horror as Mario and Luigi placed their hands on their head while their bodies shook in disappointment.
I dropped my controller onto the floor and wiped the sweat from my face.
Ace started wailing.
I spun around just in time to find him sliding off the couch. He hit the floor like a sack of potatoes and twitched as if he were malfunctioning. “Rigged!” he cried, throwing his hands to the ceiling as if the big man upstairs was gonna do something. “This shit is rigged!”
I cast my gaze toward Wren and Sage, who were snickering to each other snuggled in the ugliest chair I’d ever laid eyes on. Sage met my eyes and winked, blowing on her controller as if it were on fire.
“Sorry, Brett,” she cackled. “Maybe next time.”
“That is the sixty-seventh game we have lost!” Ace whined. “What are the odds of that? Seriously, this shit has to be rigged.”
“It is not rigged.” Sage rolled her eyes and set her controller aside. “Maybe you should try playing different characters.”
“Sage, Mario and Luigi are the originals. This is their game for shit’s sake. It’s called Mario Kart! Ace and I cannot disrespect them like that.”
Ace smacked his chest and lifted his hand to the sky. “Word.”
“You are such a sore loser,” Sage chuckled. “Princess Peach is life.”
“You are literally like the only human who likes her,” Ace drawled. “There are Tumblr hate groups for Princess Peach.”
Wren shrugged. “I like Princess Peach.”
I blinked. Of course he did.
“I need a beer,” I grumped, stalking across the living room and into the kitchen. I yanked open the refrigerator door like I lived here.
I wasn’t sure what the designated number of visits was before a man was allowed to help himself to another man’s beer stash. Surely, I had surpassed that number. I’d been inside Wren’s apartment enough times to warrant a beer. I’d just lost my sixty-seventh game of Mario Kart to my little sister and Princess Peach.
If that didn’t scream much needed alcohol intake, I didn’t know what did.
I snagged two bottles and shuffled back into the living room. Instead of sitting back on the couch, I flopped on the floor next to Ace and passed both bottles to him. He sat up and took them, sighing as he used one bottle to pop the top off the other and then vice versa. He handed one back, and we clinked them together before taking a long swig.
It was our ritual.
A ritual of losers.
“You are pathetic,” Sage quipped. “You look like somebody just killed your dog.”
“Somebody killed my dog once,” Ace blurted. “Garbage truck ran him over. His name was Spot.”
Sage’s eyes widened. “You’re fucking with me.”
“Yep.” Ace smirked, licking beer off his lip.
I chuckled and held out my fist, waiting for him to give it a pound. I took another swig of my beer and pressed the bottle to the side of my face, hoping to cool down my heated skin. Nothing got me more amped up than an intense game of Mario Kart.
I was twenty-four going on twelve.
“You miss being a shoe man yet?” Sage teased, her head tilting to find Wren’s shoulder.
“Considering it’s been four days? Nope. I’ve been at home on the couch, eating junk food in my underwear.”
“Brett, really?” Ace whined. “Why do you do all the fun stuff without me?”
“Why is eating in your underwear fun?” Sage was looking at me like I was from the planet Klingon. “Why not wear pants?”
“Why wear pants?” Ace shot back. “Gives the boys more wiggle room. Before I had a roommate, I’d just eat buck ass naked.”
“It’s true,” Wren confirmed. “Walked in on it once.”
“Don’t change your routine for me, man. Eat naked all you want. I’m the one who imposed on your lonely life.” I took two huge gulps of my beer.
The liquid felt cool going down but once it hit my stomach, it all evaporated and sent warmth to the surface of my skin. I could feel my neck beginning to flush, and it had not a damn thing to do with the adrenaline caused by Mario Kart. It was just Ace and the thought of him being all naked and yummy in the home we shared.
“Brett.” He flicked my earlobe. “For the last fucking time, you did not impose. I like having you there with me.”
Was I flushing again?
I was fucking flushing again.
“Uhm, hello.” Wren shot his hand up in the air and pointed at himself dramatically. There may as well have been a neon arrow pointing down on him. “I was your original roommate. The best roommate.”
“You’ve been replaced,” Ace replied easily. “Bye Felicia.”
Wren looked at me. “You’re a best friend stealer.”
“You kiss my sister,” I shot back.
He held up a hand and dipped his chin. “Touché.”
“Ladies, please,” Ace huffed and plopped on his back. “Don’t fight over me.”
“Get over yourself.” Wren grabbed a throw pillow that was wedged between him and the side of his chair. He sent it flying. It bounced off Ace's gut.
Ace being Ace, rolled over and groaned like someone just gave him a swift quick in the gonads.
“Is there ever a day you aren’t so extra?” Wren laughed, dragging his phone from his pocket.
“Phantom girl,” Ace barked. “Control your boyfriend. He’s being mean to me.”
“Why do you always call my sister phantom girl?”
The room went quiet. Ace cleared his throat and sat up quickly.
“What?” I looked around, finding them with odd expressions and lips pressed together. “Is this some sort of inside joke I’m not in on or–?”
“No.” Ace shook his head. “I just called her that the first time I met her. Cause she’s all pale and ghostly looking, ya know?”
I inspected my sister. She did look a bit phantom like. Her skin was darker than it was when she'd first returned home. Her hair was still as white as ever. It didn’t help that it hung down to practically her waist, acting as a way to shield her face when she was uncomfortable with people talking to her. “I guess so.” I shrugged my shoulder.
Taking one last swig of my beer, I finished it off while somewhat watching Wren mess around on his phone.
He suddenly stood up and kissed Sage on the forehead. “Be right back, Sunshine.” He walked past Ace, kicking him lightly on the leg. “Dude, come here for a sec.”
Ace jumped to his feet and kissed his hand, smacking it against my forehead. “Be right back, Sunshine.” He crooned, trotting behind Wren.
There was the distinct sound of skin slapping skin before Ace let out a shout and Wren’s bedroom door slammed shut.
“Those two.” Sage shook her head, the makings of a smile creeping up her face. “They’re like dumb and dumber.”
I cackled, haphazardly running my fingers across the spot he just touched. I needed another beer.
Or a big ass bucket of ice.
“So, when are you gonna tell him?” Sage asked, twirling a lock of hair around her pointer finger.
“Tell who what?”
“Tell Ace that you have a big ol’ man crush on him.”
My jaw hit the ground.
She burst into laughter. “Do you think I
’m blind? Or stupid?”
“Sage.”
“Brett.”
“I do not–"
“Don’t lie to me, Brett Maddison. I have eyes and it doesn’t take Einstein to see the way you two act around each other. You’re normally a couple of shameless flirts, but there’s a vibe going on in this room tonight that wasn’t present last week. Somebody turned up the heat.” She sent me an award-winning smirk. “Did you kiss him?”
“I did not kiss him.”
“But you want to?”
Oh. Did I ever? I wanted to kiss him so fucking bad. Take a fist full of all that hair and shove my tongue down his throat while I pinned him against the wall. I wanted to press our chests together and push one of my legs between both of his and hold him there all night, only pulling back until he couldn’t breathe and needed me to give him air. I wanted him to know how I felt the last four days. I needed him to know exactly what it felt like to be given breath from the person who consistently stole it.
There was just one giant problem. I didn’t know if I made him as breathless as he made me.
“I knew it!” Sage yelped. “Wren and I called it. You so want to kiss him.”
“Shut up!” I hissed, peering down the hall. Wren’s bedroom door was still closed. I had no damn idea what they were talking about in there, but I hoped it was a long conversation. “Sage, seriously.”
She frowned and flailed her hands with each word she spoke. “Please do not try to deny it, Brett. It’s written all over every move you make in his presence. Your freaking face gets brighter than Wren’s hair when he touches you or pays you a compliment.”
“It does not.”
She snorted. “You are in such a state of denial. What is holding you back?” Her forehead wrinkled. “Please tell me it’s not because you’re worried about judgmental fart faces.”
“Fart faces? Are we twelve again?” I teased. “No. I’m not worried about that.”
Maybe I should’ve been, but after everything I’d lived through, witnessed, and heard in therapy sessions with my sister, homophobic bigots seemed like a problem I could lift off my shoulders and throw miles away. There were heavier things in life, and I was good at ignoring people who tossed out negativity like free Frisbees at a baseball game. I knew who I was. I was confident in my sexuality and never once regretted the small fling I had with my lab partner.