Summer of Seventeen

by Jane Harvey-Berrick

  My voice was bitter and cold. I wasn’t anyone’s son. I was a friend, a brother, a boyfriend, but I wasn’t anyone’s son.

  He looked bored and irritated.

  “Supplying is a felony,” he snapped. “You’re in a whole world of hurt here.”

  “I don’t supply.”

  “Just tell the truth, Nicky,” Julia begged.

  I fisted my hands in my hair, frustration burning through the weird lethargy.

  “I am!” I yelled, shooting to my feet. “But you won’t fucking believe me!”

  “Watch your mouth, kid,” said Flowers. “Now sit your ass down.”

  I collapsed back into the chair, only half aware of what they were saying to me now.

  I don’t know how long we were in there. My throat was bone dry, and I was so thirsty I could have shit dust.

  Eventually Flowers left, and I was moved into a waiting area with Julia and Ben. I guess they didn’t consider me a flight risk.

  At least she didn’t look like she wanted to cry anymore. I hated when she was like that.

  “How you holding up, bud?” asked Ben.

  I raised my eyes to look at him, tiredness turning my limbs into ton weights.

  “Can I get some water?”

  He nodded and left me with Julia. We stared at each other in silence.

  “Is Sean okay?” I croaked at last. “Have you heard from the hospital?”

  She pulled a face. “No. I tried, but they wouldn’t give any information to someone who isn’t family.”

  “Do you think…?”

  I couldn’t get the words out.

  “No, I don’t,” Julia said quickly.

  I rested my head against the wall, my brain too exhausted to process anything else.

  Julia nudged me.

  “It’s just us now ... did you do what they say you did?”

  I didn’t even lift my head.

  “No,” I replied, my voice hoarse.

  “You can tell me,” she encouraged. “I won’t be angry. Well, I will … but if you just tell me the truth…”

  I started to laugh. I couldn’t help it; the laughter just poured out of me in huge, whooping coughs until I was red in the face and gasping for air.

  “This isn’t funny!” she hissed, spitting out her words like bullets. “This is serious! This will affect your whole future, Nicky! I’m trying to do the right thing and look after you like I promised Mom, but you can’t keep doing shit like this!”

  The laughter left me as soon as she mentioned Mom.

  “Fuck you!” I shouted. “Fuck you! You don’t believe a word I say! I’ve told the truth over and over—to you, to them. I don’t know who Sean got the Molly from. I don’t know when he got it. He already had it when I got to the beach. Everyone saw. I was the last person there!”

  But when I thought about it, I wasn’t sure if anybody had seen Sean with the Molly before I got there. Fuck, it must have looked like 20 minutes after I arrived, Sean got sick. Shit. It looked bad.

  My temper surged and snapped, heat shooting through my veins, all of it aimed at my sister.

  “My best friend is lying in a fucking hospital bed, and I don’t know if he’s going to live or die and you’re accusing me of all this shit. You’re supposed to be my sister! I’m not a fucking drug dealer!”

  I was breathing heavily now, fighting for breath, for the slightest hold on my boiling temper.

  “It’s like you want to believe I did it. Like you want to think the worst of me. You’re just like them, Sean’s parents. Poor white trash—that’s what they think I am.” I sat back in my chair, panting. “That’s what they think you are.”

  Julia looked stunned.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I…”

  I couldn’t look at her, but my voice was weary when I spoke.

  “Fuck you.”

  She didn’t say anything else, but stood up, straightened her skirt and left me alone.

  All the fight had drained out of me and I was just tired. I lay my head back against the wall and my eyes closed.

  Someone brought me a paper cup of water and I drank it down greedily.

  There was no clock, so I couldn’t tell how long I’d been there. I think I slept a little, but jerked awake when I had a nightmare. Well, more of a memory than a nightmare.

  I was about three and I’d gotten separated from Mom in the mall. I was lost, and strangers kept trying to talk to me, and I was afraid, and I was looking for Mom everywhere but I couldn’t find her.

  God, I hadn’t had that dream in so long. I rubbed my hands over my face, shocked to see that they were trembling slightly.

  Then I looked up and saw Julia.

  Dark rings framed her eyes, and she looked as exhausted as I felt.

  “They’re letting you go.”

  “What?”

  I rubbed my eyes again.

  “Sean’s awake. I sent Ben to the hospital and he pretended to be one of his brothers. Apparently Sean told the police that it had nothing to do with you, so they’re not filing charges.”

  I stared up at her, hope and disbelief waging war in my brain.

  “Come on,” she said softly. “I’m taking you home.”

  I stood up on wobbly legs and followed her to the front desk.

  The police officer on duty returned my phone, wallet and keys, and I was allowed to leave.

  Ben was waiting outside, leaning against his car. He took a step forward when he saw me, and I stiffened because I thought he might try and do the man-hug thing. But he draped an arm around Julia’s shoulder and kissed her forehead, then he held out his hand toward me, so we did the fist-bump instead.

  “Thanks for finding out about Sean,” I mumbled, as we rode home along quiet streets.

  The sun was just beginning to appear behind the ocean, burning away the cool gray of dawn.

  Ben’s eyes searched mine in the rear view mirror.

  “He’s going to be okay,” he said quietly, “but if you ever do any of that shit yourself, I’ll help Julia kick your ass. Okay?”

  I’d never heard Ben say anything like that before.

  “Okay,” I muttered, and stared out of the window.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” Julia whispered.

  I nodded, but didn’t look at her.

  When I got home, I trudged upstairs. I threw myself face onto the bed, and spiraled down into oblivion.

  I slept most of the next day, finally waking about three in the afternoon.

  I plugged in my cellphone while I showered, and came back to find that Yansi had just about blown up my phone with texts and messages.

  I sent her a quick reply saying that Sean was okay and asking if I could see her today.

  She sent an unhappy smiley face with the words,

  * Can’t Family time. Miss you. Glad you’re ok. And Sean. x *

  I wasn’t surprised; she was rarely allowed out on a Sunday. Fuckin’ family time.

  My stomach rumbled loudly, so I pulled on shorts and a clean tee, irritated that the laundry seemed to have piled up again already. I could have sworn I’d just done a load. I preferred it when Julia had done all that sort of shit. I wondered if I could ask her if she’d start again—make some sort of deal, but I had the feeling she wouldn’t be doing me favors anytime soon.

  The kitchen was mercifully empty. I didn’t think I could face talking to anyone right now.

  I was surprised to see that my skateboard was propped up in the hall. Marcus must have gone back to the beach last night and saved it for me. I thought that was pretty cool of him.

  I shoved some bread in the toaster and slumped at the table waiting for it to pop up. I was surprised when Aidan’s name flashed on my cell.

  “Yeah?”

  But it was Sean’s voice instead.

  “Hey.”

  “Sean! Fuck! How are you? Are you okay?”

  His voice was subdued.

  “I’m okay. Back home. Look, I’m sorry
about last night, man.”

  “Fuck that, bro, I’m just glad you’re all right.”

  There was a long pause.

  “I told the police it had nothing to do with you.”

  I swallowed, pushing back the memory of sitting in the cruiser on my way to the police station.

  “Yeah, I know,” I said quietly. “Julia told me. Thanks for that.”

  “Well, it’s true. That was some bad shit. Got a killer headache,” he laughed softly.

  I grinned into the phone. “I bet it’s bitchin’.”

  There was another long pause.

  “So, the parentals are freaking out. And I’m grounded. They’re saying it’ll be for the rest of my life. Well, definitely for most of it. Weeks, for sure.”

  “Wow, that’s harsh!” Jeez, it was only the first week in July. “They really gonna stop you surfing?”

  “Yeah, they can try,” he snorted. Then he sighed. “But they’ve taken my car keys.”

  “Shit!”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, um, I guess you’re feeling pretty rough. But, uh, you’re going to be okay, right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, although there was something off in his voice.

  “I can come over, if you’re up for some Xbox action. Or tomorrow after work.”

  He didn’t reply right away, and I had the weirdest feeling, like someone had opened up my head and poured cold water in, filling my body with chills.

  When he still didn’t speak, I knew why.

  “You’re not allowed to see me,” I said flatly. “They don’t believe you—they think I gave you the drugs.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice sounding choked. “You’re my best friend, man. You’re my brother. But they’re being real assholes about this. I told them it had nothing to do with you, but yeah—they don’t believe me.”

  I understood, I really did. They wanted someone to blame, and I was first in line. Blame the kid from the poor side of town. He must be selling drugs, right?

  “It’s okay,” I said stiffly.

  “Nick, I’m so sorry. I…”

  I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me.

  “It’s not your fault,” I said tiredly. “They really going to ground you for the rest of the summer?”

  “Yeah, I think so. They’re pretty mad. I’m only allowed to leave the house if I’m with one of my brothers. That would be okay if it was Aidan, but he’s going north tomorrow to start his new job. I’ll be stuck with fucking Patrick. He’s such a prick.”

  “Shit. That sucks.”

  Sean gave a small laugh. “Yeah, but he hates me just as much, so he hasn’t stopped bitchin’ about it since Mom and Dad handed out the jail sentence.” He sighed. “They’ve taken my phone and my laptop. That’s why I’m using Aidan’s. I needed to tell you, man. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

  Something tightened inside my chest.

  “Yeah, me too.” I took a deep breath. “This is so fucked up.”

  The silence stretched out before he replied. “Yeah, really fucked up. Look, I gotta go, man. I’ll call you when I can, okay?”

  “’Kay.”

  The call ended.

  My toast was cold.

  I texted Yansi all Sunday, but there was no reply. The silence made my skin prickle.

  And when I showed up for work on Monday morning, Mr. Alfaro fired me.

  I already knew he didn’t like me much; I never had been allowed back in the truck’s cab, and I was cool with that.

  But today he was waiting for me with his arms folded across his chest, a look on his face that told me he wanted to chew me up and spit me out. He always looked pissed, but today it seemed like the supersized version, and all aimed at me. I guessed he’d heard about Sean, although it could have been about Erin. Shit, I hoped he didn’t know all the details. I didn’t know which one would make him more pissed. I had a feeling I was going to find out.

  His eyes narrowed as I got closer. Yep, this was definitely more than just his usual pissiness. I jumped off my skateboard and flipped it up so I could catch it under my arm. Yeah, a bit of a showy move, but he looked so mad, and it was all I had.

  He didn’t speak, so I wondered if maybe I’d got it wrong and it was okay. I went to climb up into the truck as usual. I already had one foot on the flatbed when he grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, making me lose my footing. I nearly fell, and it was only years of keeping my balance on a surfboard that stopped me from hitting the ground. Now I was the one who was pissed. He may have been my boss, but that didn’t mean I was going to let him lay his hands on me.

  I shoved his arm off, breathing hard, and met his eyes.

  “No!” he barked out. “You will not work with me today. You are fired. And you will stay away from Anayansi. I have forbidden her from seeing you. No more!”

  What the fuck?

  He turned away.

  “Hey!” I called after him. “Hey! Why are you firing me? I’ve done every damn thing you wanted!”

  He pulled some dollar bills out of his wallet, balled them up and threw them at my chest.

  “Aléjate, muchacho! Manten tu distancia, niño! Go and never come back. Stay away from my daughter!”

  Then he grabbed my skateboard and threw it into the road.

  Fucker!

  I sprinted after it, but was one damn second too late—a van ran over it, and I heard the crunch that meant instant destruction.

  The driver yelled something at me, but I was staring down at my ruined skateboard. The wheels had snapped off and the deck had a huge crack running the length of it.

  I was burning with rage. My Mom had given me that board for my fifteenth birthday. It was mine.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you, man?” I yelled.

  I picked up the broken pieces. My board was dead. There was no coming back from that massacre. I was so furious, my vision went red and I threw the remains of my skateboard at Mr. Alfaro’s truck, taking satisfaction in the thud as it bounced off the driver’s door.

  He took a step toward me, his face threatening. But I wasn’t backing down.

  Then Yansi came running out the house, screaming at her father in rapid Spanish. I couldn’t catch all of it, but heard enough to know that she was angry with him and not me. Thank fuck.

  He caught her shoulders and dragged her back into the house, shouting angrily, drowning out her cries. Sean’s name was shouted several times, and a cold feeling swept through me, chasing away the burn of anger.

  I’d wondered if Mr. Alfaro had found out about Erin—but now it looked like he’d heard about my night in the ER and … and what? Assumed that I’d given Sean the drugs. Just like everyone else. So what was new?

  Goddamn it! No wonder he didn’t want Yansi near me—he was probably thinking I was a freakin’ drug dealer or stoner or … jeez, any-fucking-thing.

  I knew I wasn’t thinking clearly, but I was so fucking angry. I marched up to the door and hammered on it, yelling Yansi’s name. I heard more shouting and the twins were crying and screaming. Mrs. Alfaro was wailing, a high-pitched keening sound. Yansi’s furious words punched through the chaos of sound. She yelled “no” over and over again.

  I pounded on the door repeatedly, and the noise seemed to escalate.

  Eventually, Mrs. Alfaro opened the door a crack.

  “You go now, Nico,” she hissed, her mouth turned down, her face tense.

  “Please, por favor!” I begged. “I just need to talk to Yansi.”

  “Go! Vete!”

  And she slammed the door.

  I sat on the doorstep and texted Yansi again. I hoped like hell that her cell hadn’t been confiscated, too. I waited a couple of minutes, but she didn’t reply and nobody left the house.

  Defeated, I scooped up the pieces of my skateboard, kicking the door of Mr. Alfaro’s truck, before I started walking home.

  I couldn’t fix my board, but Mom had given it to me. I wasn’t going to leave it in that old
bastard’s driveway.

  I couldn’t take the loss of one more thing that I cared about.

  My legs were weak and my whole body ached. Every step felt like I was weighted down by a gravity heavier than Earth’s.

  Sean gone. Yansi gone. Mom gone forever. And I realized something else: I wasn’t technically an adult, but I’d stopped being a child the day Mom told me she had cancer.

  Yeah, not a day I’d ever forget.

  I’d been surfing with Sean, and even though I said I’d be home early, I’d stayed to hang out at the pier.

  When I walked in, I thought she was pissed because I was late. But she was pissed that the doctors had told her she’d be dead at 42, and because she’d promised to be there for me. And now she was dying and couldn’t keep that promise.

  “Sit down, Nicky,” she said, her voice soft and ragged. “It’s bad news, baby.”

  And then she told me.

  I said all the usual things.

  Are you sure?

  The doctors must be wrong!

  There must be something they can do? Some different medicine?

  New treatments are being discovered all the time, maybe…

  And she’d said all the usual things too, the answers someone gives when the answer is no, but no one wants to say it. Or hear it.

  Maybe.

  Maybe.

  Maybe.

  And then finally she was tired of saying maybe, and she said, “No, baby. There’s no hope. They’ve tried everything.”

  I didn’t want to believe it. Of course I fucking didn’t. But over the next few days, it started to sink in.

  I’d be sitting in a classroom at school, trying to pay attention to a lesson in Trig or American History, and I’d suddenly think, Mom is dying. She’s going to be dead. She won’t be coming to anymore parent-teacher conferences. She won’t see me graduate or win any more surfing trophies. She lied. She won’t be there for me.

  So you start making deals.

  “God, if you let her live, I’ll stop drinking and smoking weed; I’ll study hard; I’ll do any fucking thing you want, but don’t let my mom die. Please, God.”

  But she got sicker.

  And sicker.

  And then she died.

  And I wanted to stop believing in God, but I couldn’t. So I just hated him instead.

  And he hated me right back.