by Amber Garza
“Of course. I understand.” She nods to me. “You go. I’ll be right here.”
“Okay.” I pause for a minute, not wanting to leave her. But I know I have to go see my brother. I have to know if he’s okay. “I’ll be right back,” I say to her before following Gabe down the hall.
My nerves rattle around inside of me as we walk. By the time we reach Julian’s room, they’re completely frayed. I feel like that shirt I wear when I play football with my brothers, all torn and ripped to shreds.
Julian’s room is dimly lit, lights flashing and machines beeping. He lies in the bed, his face battered and bruised. It turns my stomach. When he sees me approach he attempts a smile, but then winces as if it was painful.
“Thank god it’s you, bro. You’re the only person in this goddamn family I can stand.” His voice is scratchy. “Everyone else is so judgmental and shit. You’re the only cool one.”
I’m not sure if that’s true. I don’t feel cool right now. In fact, it’s safe to say I’m just as critical of him as the rest of them. But I keep my opinion to myself, holding back my true feelings in favor of being what Julian needs right now.
“What happened to you?” I ask.
“I owed these guys some money. It’s why I went to the wedding to talk to Dad.”
My stomach knots, knowing where this is going.
“When they came to collect, I didn’t have it, so I had to pay with my face.” He attempts a joke, his laugh strained and painful sounding.
Oh, Julian, what do you have yourself mixed up with now?
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. As I stare at my brother’s black and blue face, I feel sick. If only we’d helped him. If only we’d taken him seriously. I mean, what if they had killed him? My stomach churns at the thought. Reaching out, I cover his hand with mine, wishing there was something else I could do, but knowing there isn’t.
When I return to the waiting room, Sloane rises from her chair and hurries toward me. I’m sure I look like shit. I know I feel like it.
“You okay?”
I nod, a knee-jerk reaction. Then I pause, shaking my head.
“What happened?” she asks.
“I guess the reason Julian needed money was to pay back some kind of debt. Since no one would give him the money, he didn’t have any when the guy came to collect, so he got the shit beat out of him.”
She slaps her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my god. Is he all right?”
“He’s pretty jacked up, but he’ll live.” I rake a hand down my face. “If only I’d helped him. Maybe I could’ve talked to Dad or something. I never should’ve listened to Gabe.”
“No. This isn’t your fault. You did the right thing. It was Mateo’s wedding.”
“So that’s more important than Julian’s safety?”
“Of course not, but Julian put himself in this situation. It’s not your job to protect him.” She speaks gently.
A toddler waddles past me, her mom chasing her. I move a little to make room for them.
“Remember that time we rode our bikes down by the creek even though our parents told us not to?”
Sloane nods. “Yeah, and we ended up popping your front tire.”
“Who helped us and kept it a secret so we didn’t get in trouble?”
“Julian.” An elderly woman slides into the seat Sloane vacated, so we move toward an empty space near the wall.
I cross my arms over my chest and lean my shoulder against the wall to prop myself up. It’s late, and I’m getting tired. “He’s always been there for me, Sloane.”
“Not always. The last few years he hasn’t been. And that instance at the creek was totally not like this. This is big, Cruz. The stuff Julian is involved in is a lot worse than sneaking off to play at the creek.”
“I know.” I drop my head, staring hard at my shiny dress shoes. “I just wish I could help him. I want my brother back.”
Sloane reaches for me, her arms gently draping over my body. It’s not the passionate way she touched Adam, but maybe this is better. It’s real and intimate. As I lean into her, pressing my chin into her shoulder, I know it’s what I need.
“You guys ready to go?” Gabe approaches us, looking as exhausted and worried as I feel.
“Yeah.” I lift my head, wiping my face.
“We’ll come back tomorrow, but you and I need to go home, change, and get some rest.” Gabe clamps a hand down on my shoulder, as he turns to Sloane. “You look like you could use some rest too, Sloane.”
“Gee, thanks,” she teases, and I’m grateful to her for bringing some normalcy to this moment.
“You know what I mean,” Gabe says with a smile.
I grin and reach for Sloane’s hand. Her skin is soft against mine, her touch warm and tender. As we walk out of the hospital together, I decide not to share my feelings with her tonight. When I do it, I need to do it right. And I know just the way.
19
sloane
I get up early for a run. The sun is barely starting to rise, and it’s dark in my room while I quickly change into my running shorts and tank top. I was up late last night at the hospital, but I can’t skip out on my run today. And it’ll be too damn hot to go later. I’ve hardly ran at all the last couple of weeks, and I miss it. Besides, my pants are fitting tighter, so it’s time.
Perching on the edge of my bed, I slip into my running shoes and lace them tight. After rubbing sleep from my eyes and letting out a large yawn, I head across the hall to the bathroom. I quickly brush my teeth, wash my face, and pull my hair back in a tight ponytail. Then I hurry down the hallway. I’ve got to get out of the house before I answer the soft call of my bed and sink back into it. A little more sleep is definitely tempting right now.
Resisting temptation, I wearily make my way to the front door. Dad’s voice stops me cold as my hand closes around the knob.
“I can’t see you today. I’m sorry,” he speaks so softly I can barely hear him.
Taking deliberate steps forward, I move toward the sound. Peering around the corner, I catch a glimpse of him talking on his cell phone in the kitchen. His head is bent and his hand is cupped around the phone. My stomach knots.
“I’ll see you soon. Promise,” he whispers. “I have to go now though. Call you tomorrow, okay?” Pause. “I love you too.” When he pivots in my direction, I duck behind the wall, my heart hammering in my chest. With sweaty palms, I reach for the doorknob once again. My hands are so slick it’s hard to open, but I force it. Then I step out into the crisp morning air and close the door softly behind me. Who the hell was he talking to? Who can’t he see today?
I shove off the door and start jogging down the driveway, knowing that I have to get out of here before Dad sees me.
I love you too. The last words Dad said in his secret phone conversation float through my mind as I turn onto the sidewalk. I know he wasn’t talking to Mom because she was still in bed, Regan is miles away, both of his parents are dead, and he has no siblings. So who else does he love? My head spins.
“Hey.”
My head snaps up at the sound of Cruz’s voice. He jogs up beside me, sweat forming on his brow.
“What are you doing up so early?” I ask, continuing to run. He steps in line with me and we jog at the same rhythm, as if our feet are a drumbeat keeping time.
“Couldn’t sleep. I saw you leaving your house and thought I’d join. Thought maybe a run would clear my head.”
“Is it working?” We round the corner, turning on the neighboring street. My legs and arms are becoming warm, a little bit of sweat trickles down my shoulder blades and spine.
“A little,” he says.
I feel his eyes on me, but keep my face straight ahead. One time I was running with Cruz and I was so busy talking that my toe hit a curb and pitched me forward. I ended up getting a pretty big gash on my head. Ever since then, I make sure to stay focused ahead.
“Is it working for you?” he asks.
Sometimes I hate how well he can read me. “No
, not yet.”
“What’s going on?” His breath is a little more labored than before.
“I overheard a weird phone conversation of my dad’s this morning.” I smile at a man watering his front lawn. Once we pass him I continue, “He was whispering and apologizing for not being able to see the person today. And then he ended by saying ‘I love you’.”
“Huh. Maybe he was talking to Regan.”
I shake my head, my ponytail swinging like a pendulum behind me. “No, because it sounded like the person thought they could see my dad today. Regan is in another state. She wouldn’t think she was seeing Dad today.”
“Ask him about it.”
I wipe sweat from my brow. A car drives past. “I can’t. I don’t want to admit I was eavesdropping.”
“Well, you can’t keep driving yourself crazy with the what-ifs. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation, but you’re never going to know what it is if you don’t ask him.”
I’m not sure that Cruz is right, but I just nod. No need to argue with him about it. I’m sort of known for jumping to crazy conclusions. I have a pretty active imagination, and it’s gotten me in trouble a lot. So I’ll let it drop for now. But I know there’s more to this story than what Cruz thinks. I can feel it deep in my gut. Call it woman’s intuition, but something is not right.
“Yeah, maybe,” I say noncommittally. “What about Julian? Any news on his condition?”
He shakes his head as he runs, his arms tucked in near his chest. “Last night Dad said that he’s being released today. He offered Julian his old room back, said that we could all help him get clean or whatever.”
“Do you think he’ll take him up on the offer?”
“I don’t know. I doubt it. Dad didn’t seem hopeful.”
“I hope he does. He needs to get help.”
“Yeah. Everyone can see that except for him, I guess.”
I nod, sucking in some air. It’s warming up, and sweat covers me like a second skin.
“So, you wanna hang out later?” Cruz asks, changing the subject.
“Can’t.” My lungs burn, and it’s getting harder to carry on a conversation.
“Hanging with Adam?”
“No. Becca. It’s her day off.”
Even without looking at him, I know he’s scrunching up his nose in disgust.
“What about tonight? Coming to practice?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool.”
Cool? That’s it? No quip about Adam or anything? I’m pleasantly surprised. Maybe he’s finally accepting my relationship with Adam. After his weird comments last night, I wasn’t sure. I was starting to worry. But I know he was overly emotional with everything that was going on with Julian, so maybe that’s all it was. When I quickly glance over at him, the funny expression on his face gives me pause. It’s the look he has when he’s got something up his sleeve. And in my experience that’s never a good thing.
Becca claims she’s too pale and in desperate need of a tan, so we meet at the pool at the apartment complex where she lives with her mom. Since it’s a weekday, it’s quiet at the pool. Only one woman with a toddler play on the steps near the shallow end. Other than that we have the place to ourselves. Becca and I find two lounge chairs and spread out our stuff. I put on a wide brimmed hat to protect my face and then lather sunblock all over my body. When I glance over at Becca she’s spraying on suntan lotion and staring at me like I’m crazy.
“You’re never going to get a tan that way,” she says.
“I’m also not going to get skin cancer.” Lying back, I turn my face upward and close my eyes.
“Morbid much?” Becca sighs.
I giggle.
“You may not get skin cancer, but you’re gonna die of a heart attack if you don’t learn to loosen up a little.”
“Whatever.” I keep my eyes closed, my lips curving a little.
“I’m serious. You spend too much time worrying.” A finger jabs me in the shoulder. “It won’t kill you to throw caution to the wind every once in awhile.”
I suppose she does have a point. I’ve always been a little neurotic. Cruz says it’s part of my charm, but maybe he’s wrong. Maybe it’s hindering me.
“I’ve been doing that a little.” I roll my head to the side to look at Becca. A pair of oversized sunglasses cover almost her entire face. “I mean, going out with Adam was outside of my comfort zone.”
“True.” Her gaze roves my body. “And don’t you think he’d like you even better with a nice golden tan?”
“I could argue that he likes my pale skin since we’re already dating,” I point out.
“Touché.” Her glossy lips curve upward. “But I still have to work on my tan. Graham hasn’t asked me out yet.”
“Graham?”
“Yeah. That guy I work with. I told you about him.”
I vaguely remember her mentioning him. “I didn’t realize you liked him though.”
“How could I not? He’s totally hot.” She turns her head, settling back on the lounge chair. “And I think he’s close to asking me out. I’ve been laying it on pretty thick lately.”
I chuckle, having been witness to Becca laying it on thick. “I’m sure he’ll ask you out, Becca.”
“Me too. I just hope he hurries up. I don’t want to be single on Fourth of July.”
“Why not?” The sun beats down on me, and the water looks pretty inviting. The lady with the little kid is now gone, and we’re the only ones out here.
“Because Fourth of July is romantic. I want a guy to kiss during the fireworks.”
She says all this as if I should know. However, I’ve never had a boyfriend, much less one on July Fourth. My insides coil when I think of Adam. Will we watch fireworks together? And more importantly, will he kiss me during the fireworks show? Glancing over at Becca, I realize that I still haven’t told her about my kiss last night. I’d been so preoccupied with everything else that happened last night and this morning that I’d sort of forgot.
“Adam kissed me,” I blurt out.
Becca sits up, her mouth agape. “And you’re just now telling me? I want all the details stat.” She scoots to the edge of the chair, swinging her legs over the side. Then she leans close to me.
I shift uncomfortably in my lounge chair, suddenly wishing I’d kept my mouth shut. “Um…I don’t know. It was nice.”
“Nice? That’s it? Girl, if it was only nice, maybe you need to work on your kissing skills. Or maybe it’s him that needs to.”
I giggle. “No. Trust me. He doesn’t need to work on anything.” My face warms. “It was really…great.”
“Did he use his tongue?”
“Becca!” I clutch my chest, appalled.
“What? I want to know.” She shrugs. “I told you I was living vicariously through you. You’re the one who gets to kiss him. The least you can do is give me details.”
“Fine.” I exhale, realizing what a prude I’m being. “Yes. He used tongue.”
Becca smiles. “Was it your first kiss?”
I frown, remembering Cruz’s weird statement at the hospital last night. “You sound like Cruz.”
She cocks her head to the side, and I can see her squinting her eyes behind her sunglasses. “Cruz knows?”
“He sorta saw.”
“What?” Becca slaps my thigh. “Your life has turned into a regular daytime talk show.”
I cringe at her analogy. Not exactly what I had been hoping for. I don’t even like daytime television. “It’s no big deal. He happened to get home from the wedding around the same time as us. We do live across the street from each other, you know?”
“Yeah. Believe me, I know.” Her tone turns sour.
I freeze. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” She waves away my words with a flick of her wrist. “Anyway, so go on.”
“So he saw, and then he sort of acted weird about it.”
“Weird, how?”
“He said something a
bout how Adam shouldn’t have been my first kiss, but before he could say anything else he had to go back to see Julian in his hospital room.”
Becca furrows her brows. “Okay, I’m clearly missing something here. Why was Julian in the hospital?”
I groan. “Oh. It’s a long story, but basically he got beat up by some guy he owes money to.”
“Yikes.” Becca bites her lip. “Sounds like you had an interesting night. How’s Cruz now?”
“I saw him this morning. He seemed fine, but he holds a lot of stuff inside. You know how he is.”
“Not as well as you do,” she mutters under her breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She grins. “Let’s get in the pool. I’m melting out here.”
Ignoring her statement, I follow her into the pool. If only people would stop saying such cryptic things lately. I feel like I’m the only one not in on some inside joke. Like I’m the one person in the comedy club still trying to figure out the punch line while everyone else roars with laughter. Frankly, it kind of sucks.
“Whoa.” Cruz’s eyes widen when I show up to practice. “Someone got a sunburn.”
“Gee, thanks for pointing it out. I hadn’t noticed before,” I deadpan.
“What happened?” He closes the front door and ushers me inside. “You’re usually so careful.”
“Becca and I went to the pool at her apartments. I fell asleep, and Becca didn’t wake me.” Glancing down, I cringe. God, it’s getting redder by the minute. And I’m sure it will start to peel any day now. So much for not getting skin cancer.
“You fell asleep by the pool?”
I nod. “I was tired.”
“She should’ve woken you. I would’ve.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sigh. When we round the corner and head toward the garage, I bump into Annette.
“Hi, Sloane,” she says cordially, but there is a hollowness to her tone that isn’t normally present.
“Hi,” I respond. After she passes by I turn to Cruz. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah.” He nods, clouds passing over his eyes like a storm rolling in. All dark and grey as if rain is imminent. “Julian left the hospital today. Didn’t tell anyone where he was going. Dad went to see him, and he was just gone. Vanished. The nurses said he had already checked out.”