by Kant, Komal
“No, you’re going. Dad asked to see you, specifically, first. So get up.”
“How do you know?” I’m a little surprised by this. He’s got his family first.
“Mom texted Jack and me at the ass crack of dawn. And I bet if you check your phone instead of staring at it, you probably have one from her too.”
Despite my still-raging headache, I am able to pull up my messages fairly quickly. Sure enough, I do have a message. I’m going to the hospital. Kylie and I pull into the hospital parking lot, head up to ICU, and Remy and Jack arrive a short time after.
Nobody seems surprised by Mr. Monroe’s request and I head back to see him. My heart is pounding in my chest. It’s a lot to take in and feels more like a movie than anything else. There are steady beeping noises, I hear air being pushed through tubes, the lighting is bright, and the only thing that’s not like a movie, are the nurses. They are seated and calm, not frantic. I hate hospitals. Thank God other people can handle working here. I never could.
I ask the nurse where I can find Zach Monroe. She points me in the direction and I have to suck in tears and a deep breath when I see him. Zach Monroe is a strong man and to see him here is wrong. He’s got one of those beeping heart machines, but is breathing on his own. Mrs. Monroe doesn’t think they will keep him much longer than a week.
“Hey, son,” he says, and he sounds winded to me.
“Hi, Mr. Monroe.”
“Glad you’re here. Wanted to see you.”
“I wanted to see you,” I admit to him and feel like I’m that ten-year-old boy who is in awe of him again. He always played games with us. He would pick me first to be on his team. He never yelled at me. He would hoist Kylie so far up in the air and she would scream out in delight and I remember wishing I had that experience. Zack Monroe had done a lot for me over the years, but probably the biggest was giving me a place I felt welcome. And to think he almost left this earth is terrible. The world needs him. I need him.
“How’s our family doing?” he asks. I don’t correct him.
“They’re doing good. I think a lot better today.”
“And you? How are you doing?”
“I have a hangover,” I admit, and probably shouldn’t.
He laughs. “Drinking is not the way to cope,” he says with a smirk. “Though, I’ve been there.” And there he is again, understanding me, letting me know I’m doing okay, and he’s in the hospital bed.
“I may have learned that lesson,” I say with a smile. I don’t want him to worry about me. I would run a mile, wanting to puke the entire time, to make him believe I am okay.
I don’t stay much longer. I know Kylie and Jack want to see him.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket. It’s from Nikki.
Nikki: Yep.
Clearly, I was an asshole last night.
JA
Remy, Jack and I go out to lunch to a place that isn’t far from where Nikki works. I have this intel because of Kylie. I picked this place with the hope that I’d be able to gather the courage to go and talk to Nikki. Thank God they don’t ask questions because I don’t want to try explaining what an ass I was last night, even if I don’t truly remember what I said or did. Our lunch arrives quickly, which is good because there’s too much quiet between the three of us. Jack’s not much of a talker, but Remy and I are, and the one time we probably need the lively conversation, we fail to give it.
She excuses herself to go to the bathroom.
“So Kylie told me what happened last night,” is what Jack says the moment she is out of earshot.
I groan.
“That Bloody Mary helping?”
“Yes, and I didn’t mean to act like an idiot and now that girl won’t call me back.”
“What’s her name again?”
“Nicole Davis.”
He begins sifting through his memories.
“She’s got blonde hair, crazy cool eyes; they’re like grey smoke, but maybe blue. They’re awesome.”
“I don’t remember the eyes, but I remember the brother and her,” he says, but there’s a frown on his face. He adds, “Didn’t we help her out one night from some douche bag?”
The memory hits me. I’m disgusted by it and can’t believe I forgot. I thought back on that night
We had just lost our game. My football career was over and I was graduating in the spring with no future in front of me. I wanted to get drunk. I wanted to stay eighteen forever.
I didn’t hear it first, Jack did.
“You hear that?” he asked, grabbing my arm and causing me to stop.
“No,” I said, but waited for him to go on.
“Listen. That sound like people talking?”
“Probably just making out and came up for air. Dude, maybe they are getting it on!” I said with a laugh.
“No, I don’t think so, Jare.”
He started heading in the direction of whatever he had heard and I followed behind, quietly as well. I took a few steps and then I heard it, the adamant, but weak voice of someone saying no.
If there was something I could never stand, it was a guy taking advantage of a girl. I moved past Jack faster, no longer willing to be slow or quiet. I heard the guy’s voice, trying to charm the girl. I heard him say, “You could make out with me.”
I came upon them. Alex Riley was there in front of me. He saw me and stepped in front of the girl. I wasn’t sure who she was. I couldn’t help it. I laughed at such a weak, pathetic line. I had no problem letting him know.
“That your line. You could make out with me?” I should have said pathetic after it. Instead I opted with, “You douche bag.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “She wants to make out with me,” was his retort. I knew who he was. He was a basketball player and I was thankful I wasn’t a basketball player. I was sure I couldn’t start the season having beat up a teammate.
“No, she doesn’t. Let her by,” Jack said. These two might not hear it in his voice, but I did. Jack wasn’t for fighting, but he was ready. There was a steadiness about his voice, a calmness that people should have been more afraid of.
I reached for her, this girl we were becoming champions for. It was time to remove her from the scene. I reached for her, and Alex swatted away my hand. I crunched both sets of my knuckles together.
“Not a good idea.” At this point, he started to get it. Jack said something over my shoulder about not wanting to fight. He meant it, but I thought the guy kind of deserved it. I felt Jack’s hand touch my shoulder. If Alex swung, he would fight. But he didn’t want me to swing first. I pulled the girl away from Alex and Jack moved her behind us.
“Don’t go back to the party. If I get drunk, I’m going to find you,” I said instead.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” he said like a child.
“Nope, but I can tell you it’s going to happen. I’m not much for lying.”
“Just leave, Alex,” came Jack. “I don’t feel like fighting tonight.”
He finally got the hint and walked away.
We turned at the same time to the girl and asked in unison, “Are you okay?”
She nodded and I felt bad for her. I wasn’t sure who she was yet, but I could tell she was young, probably inexperienced and Alex had seemed like an okay guy. Too bad I was forever going to remember him as a douche bag.
“You come here with someone?” Jack asked.
“Yeah,” she replied in a whisper.
“Let’s go find your friend,” I said.
She walked between us, and before we reached the fire a very quiet, “Thank you” came out of her mouth.
I should have said, “You’re welcome.”
I looked at her and thought she was a beautiful girl from her profile. Young, a freshman maybe, but beautiful. She was scanning the crowd for her friend and pointed at the friend when she found her. The girl was wrapped around a guy. We walked her over and she looked at both of us and said thank you again.
Her eyes. They were
a smoky color, and I knew it wasn’t an effect of the fire.
“Let’s go, Jare,” Jack said and I followed him, walking away from her.
“I really need to go see her. I need to apologize.”
“Maybe this will be your get out of jail free card. But you like her?”
“I think she’s hot and she’s not an underclassman anymore.”
He laughs.
“I need to go apologize.”
“Maybe when you aren’t so hungover and look more like a human again.”
I laugh a single laugh. He’s probably right.
“How’s your dad, really, Jack?” I ask, because while my flop with Nicole is not good, she’s not at the forefront of the pressing situations in my life. Zach Monroe is.
“Jare, my dad’s going to be fine.”
“Seriously? It’s not just a load of crap you’re feeding to people?”
“He’s going to be fine as long as he does what the doctors say. Less stress. Some physical therapy. I’m going to pick up the business end stuff so he can focus on getting physically strong again. But my mom will make sure he does what he’s supposed to. Jared, my dad’s going to be fine.”
“I know,” I say quickly, unwilling to say that I am worried. Zach is young and already had a heart attack. He’s a good man who has worked all his life and now he’s going to have health problems. His family has to deal and worry with this. It shouldn’t happen to someone like him.
My dad on the other hand is probably stumbling around, destroying his liver in a bar somewhere and blissfully will continue to do this until he dies at the age of ninety-eight. Shit, he’ll probably outlive me.
I haven’t thought about my dad in a long time. I had learned at a young age to push thoughts of him out. And thoughts of my mother flood my memories; a broken and beaten woman with my eyes. I don’t know how she stayed as long as she did with a man who beat her every time he got drunk, which was every night. I’m not mad she left; I’m furious she left me behind.
I don’t know where she is to this day, but I wonder if she would ever come back looking for me or if the thought of running into my old man is too much for her. She has no idea that he’s not in South Shore. He disappeared too.
He only tried to hit me that first night. I hit him back and ran to Jack’s house clear on the other side of town. He snuck me in his bedroom window, but in the morning, Mrs. Monroe called us both down for breakfast.
When I went back home, my father grumbled at me the same hurtful words he had yelled and screamed at my mother. I hated him. I hated the life the two of them gave me. A life that the Monroe family tried to get me away from. I had stayed with them for days on end and now Zach was dealing with recovery, heading down a road of who knows what.
“Hello, earth to Jared.” Jack waves his hand in front of my face.
“Sorry,” I say.
“Thinking about your dad?”
“You mean the sperm donor?” I say with a laugh, but Jack gives me a patient look. “Yeah.”
“People can’t always help who they become.”
“No, but they can make a choice to change. He didn’t. I’m glad he’s gone.”