Drowning in Stars

by Debra Anastasia

  Chapter 34

  Gaze

  Two years later . . .

  I STRETCHED AS I woke up. Every muscle ached. Mike and I had been practicing out in the yard yesterday for the whole damn day. Saturdays were training days. To say we were close was an understatement. He was the best coach I’d ever had. He had basically unlimited energy once he put a knee brace on. He pushed, he praised, and we joked. Ronna was outside working on her furniture restoration business. She had a shed that was made over into an outbuilding where she kept her tools and projects, but on nice days she liked to get some sun. She wore a mask and stripped and painted wood in the distance.

  Also outside was a rotating group of my foster siblings and their friends, who in some places were also mine. Teddi’s friends were the worst because they were all giggly and tried to be outside to watch me play basketball as much as possible. They’d splash in the pool in bathing suits and blast their pop music.

  I took it for granted sometimes, that this new normal was extremely, just that normal.

  As Mike and I ran drills, we watched a car pull into the driveway full of Milt’s gamer friends. A new game had come out that they were all crazy about. When they got out, we saw that they had costumes on and some fake weapons. They were hilarious and super entertaining to watch when they did tournaments in the den.

  Austin was doing his second year at the community college, wanting to transfer to a fashion school soon. I wouldn’t complain about him being home—he’d turned into my favorite brother. Never best friend, because Pixie would always be that, until her betrayal, of course.

  I was taller than Mike now, and Austin and I had been lifting in the garage for two years. We learned how to sculpt muscles through trial and error and still cracked up about our “only arms” period where we both had doughy stomachs and giant biceps.

  Now, we both had lean strength and a deep love for each other. When we went to Princeville High School, I was anticipating some bullying, with Austin wearing a skirt and eyeliner on the first day of school. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Walking in as his new brother was like getting a crown on my head or something.

  Speaking of crowns, Austin was nominated awesome with a giant crown at prom. There were a king and a queen and then Austin. He told me later that he hooked up with the entire royal court.

  And that was Austin. It sucked going to school without him, but for two summers straight I grew like it was my only job, topping out at six-five.

  Ronna loved to “complain” that I was growing and that she had to keep buying me new pants, but she also measured me on the family wall as well, scribbling my name and date in with theirs in Sharpie any time she felt I grew.

  The pictures I’d admired when I first got to this house were now threaded in with pictures of me. This family didn’t falter for a moment, determined to make a place for me here.

  And part of me felt guilty for revealing in it. Letting their determination mold me into happiness.

  I knew this path was not mine originally, but they were so good about it, it felt like fate now.

  This was my last year of high school, and I was team captain on varsity. The practices were long and hard and early, but Mike volunteered all the time and was considered an unoffical assistant coach. There was talk of scouts and scholarships. It was an exciting time.

  Austin pulled behind the gamer car and got out with an eye roll. “I quit life. I quit everything.”

  I smiled at him and Mike tossed him the ball. Austin caught it and took a shot, easily sinking it, but his skirt got tangled up in the ball when he tried to dribble so he lightly kicked it up to me. I caught it and sank it, and there were some audible swoons from the pool.

  Austin darted his attention their way. “Oh, we have the paparazzi in the house. I’m going to gossip.”

  Austin went to the edge of the pool and sat crisscrossed. The girls swam to him in a circle, thrilled he was talking to them.

  Mike and I wrapped up our one-on-one and headed inside for showers. “Hey, can you come up for a discussion once you’re done?”

  I nodded once. I knew the tone. It was about Bruce.

  After I showered and put on fresh shorts and a t-shirt with the basketball team logo on it, I trotted upstairs with my phone in my hand.

  Ronna was in from her shed and Mike’s hair was wet like mine. She was pouring lemonade into three glasses.

  “Do you think this is okay? I mean, private enough?” She put the pitcher back into the fridge and seemed to be too worked up to sit.

  “It’s fine,” I offered, even though I didn’t know if it was the truth.

  She took a deep breath and sat at the kitchen table.

  Mike took over. “Gaze, we wanted to ask you something we’re considering, and it’s one hundred percent okay if you have any reservations. Nothing will change here, we promise.”

  I felt my stomach drop to my feet. We’d had updates from the prison a few times.Two letters from my dad that I ripped up without reading. I still didn’t remember anything from that night, but I didn’t need to. All I had to do was copy/paste from my other beatings to know how it went down. Of course, with the addition of Pixie somehow. I pushed away the concerns.

  “We’d like to ask you to be a member of our family. We’d like to…” Ronna looked to Mike to finish her sentence.

  “Petition to adopt you. That would require your father to agree to revoking his parental rights. And that process takes a bit. And we don’t know what he’ll say, but…”

  The silence filled the room while they waited. I had to switch gears in my head. I was almost eighteen, so there was no need for them to adopt me other than...

  “You know we’re crazy about you. We love you and think of you as our boy.” Ronna teared up and reached out her hand.

  She’d told me four months in that she loved me. Lumped me right in there with her kids all the time. So I knew. But now I really knew.

  I tried my voice once, and then again, managing to only make a squeak then a grumble. I wanted to say yes. I felt the yes already. Pixie flooded my memory, and I felt like I was betraying her, leaving her. It had been years, but still she was my family in my head. I wished she were here. Wished I could have her.

  Ronna exhaled and Mike rubbed her shoulder.

  I had to honor these people. This thing they did—taking in a teenager with three other kids in the house that could’ve gone any which way. I had to give them this, and I wanted to have it. Even if it was selfish.

  “That would be awesome.” I squeezed Ronna’s hand and she gasped, pulling me in for a hug. Mike added his wet hug on top of the two of us.

  They said stuff, meaningful stuff, but I couldn’t hear it past my glow. They loved me. They really loved me.

  So Teddi started planning the party about thirty minutes after Ronna and Mike had the family meeting in the den. Each kid gave me a hug. My sister and brothers. I fell into bed that night grinning. I left my door open that night, too, just to be more a part of the house. They wanted to adopt me with six months left before I was an adult. They wanted me to be in the family for Christmas and Thanksgiving and weddings and funerals. When Austin snuck out of his room for his midnight smoke, he saw me smiling and knocked on the doorjamb.

  “Hey, Buttercup. Or Buttercup Bro. How the hell are you feeling?” He sat on the edge of my bed.

  “Great. So fucking great.” I looked at his hands, no cigarette there. “What’s up? You out?”

  “Oh God no. Fuck. I’m quitting. I want to stop having the lung capacity of an elderly hummingbird. Sucks. I think I’d deep-throat a cactus for a cig right now.” He clenched and unclenched his fists.

  “Well, as your almost official brother, I’ll be happy to smack you every time you have a craving.” I sat up.

  “Really? You with those tree trunk arms and steak hands? You’ll knock my pretty right off my face.”

  “No one’s that strong,” I teased.

  “See, this is why you’re my favorit
e sibling.” He pushed so his back was against my footboard.

  “Oh, he’s your favorite? Great. I’m telling Mom.” Teddi hopped into my room and climbed on Austin like he was a jungle gym.

  Milt wandered in and sat at my desk chair. “What the hell are we all up for?”

  Teddi tapped Austin’s nose. “He was going for one of his top secret smokes.”

  Austin pushed her backward and gave her a hard look. “How the hell do you know that?”

  “Duh. I live in the room upstairs. Your smoke would come in my window and wake me up. I’m going to die of secondhand smoke.” She put her hands to her throat and stuck out her tongue.

  Austin started to tickle her kneecaps and she flailed around.

  Milt met my eyes over the two of them flopping around. “At least we have each other when they pull this shit.”

  We held out our hands in separate choreographed high-fives. There wasn’t anything better than feeling like I really belonged and I was safe. It was amazing.

  Chapter 35

  Gaze

  THE CAR RIDE back from the courthouse was not celebratory. I heard Mike murmuring into his phone for the kids to take down the decorations. Ronna was quietly crying and now, on the ride home, Mike was silent. I watched out of the back-seat window.

  It was like Bruce had hit me again. But instead of just me it was all of the Burathons. No, he wouldn’t sign away his parental rights. No, he would not allow me to be adopted. And because Bruce always knew to throw three punches at a time, we found out he was getting out of prison early because of his good behavor and his parenting classes. He even ran a study group about being a great dad behind bars.

  Instead of a party, I was going to have to pack a bag. Instead of a family, I was getting my past resurrected in the middle of my senior year. The achievemnts of my basketball season hanging in limbo. I couldn’t even voice what was going on. How many concerns this brought me. The tension was palpable.

  Ronna’s hand lay face up by the headrest on her passenger seat. I reached over and wrapped my hand around hers. We held it like that for over twenty minutes, until she needed a break to cry.

  I was going back to the city. Bruce was able to prove he could provide for me because the rent had been paid all these years.

  I let Ronna hug me when we got to their home. Not our home. Their home. I lay in the dark in the den that night, listening to the family’s voices echoing off the cavernous walls. Ronna was ready to run. To pack up the whole family and just run. Mike told her it couldn’t be that way. That they needed to not be felons. Mike provided the health insurance. I wiped at the tears on my cheek when I heard her break down. “I’m losing another son. He’s my son. I love him. They can’t take him.”

  Hearing her pain made my soul ache. I wanted to fix it for her. God, I mean, I could keep running away and get back to them, but then they’d be in trouble. I knew why Bruce was doing this. He didn’t have a huge come-to-Jesus moment in prison. He was angry that Pixie had told on him. He was angry that I, his property, would cause him trouble.

  He was picturing the same skinny kid he had no trouble and no fear laying his hands on. I was far from that now. In my memories he was always looming, but his prison record listed him at five-eleven. I was taller than him and trained hard. Trained strong.

  I wasn’t a puppy with my tail between my legs. If Bruce wanted to hit me, it’d be the start of a fight that I would end.

  Austin didn’t turn on the den light, so I watched his shadow move across the room.

  “You know, you could’ve done us all a favor and been a jackhole from the beginning.” I heard a thickness in his voice.

  This family was loved. They loved the hell out of each other and had enveloped me as well. No bullshit, no ulterior motives.

  “Man, it’s been so peaceful. So reliable. I feel like I’ve been on a vacation from the real world for so long now.”

  He sat opposite me. I could see the shadow of his face as it passed through the phases of emotion. “You deserved this. This is your real world.” He patted the cushion I was on.

  “No, man. This was an escape. I have to face him again. I need to see if…” I’d thought about it, and as Ronna cried upstairs, I felt guilty about it.

  “You need to see Pixie and find out what happened between you.” He filled in the rest of my thoughts.

  “Yeah. There’s a part of me that feels like I abandoned her.” I intertwined my fingers.

  “Okay, I support that. But fuck, if they can think I can’t still be your brother. We clicked. Blood or not. I will be in your life. Plus, I don’t let people tell me who to be.” He held out his fist, and I tapped it with mine. I loved this whole family, but Austin—I would miss the hell out of him the most.

  _______________

  Ronna wanted to drive me. She wanted the whole family to be part of the process, but Bruce had said no. He wanted no contact between the Burathons and me.

  So I hugged them in their house, and then I left with Mrs. Josephine, the social worker that had visited me in the hospital. She looked tired, like the years had taken the piss out of her. I saw her shake her head twice. She knew. She knew I had it good. She’d checked in on me twice and kept in touch with my therapist. I felt bad for her. Worse for myself, though.

  I felt myself harden as we drove back to my old neighborhood. I had three suitcases in the back and pictures of me with the Burathons. Mike had reached out to the basketball coach for my new high school and was hopeful that I could practice with the team in the off season.

  Mrs. Josephine helped carry my third suitcase up the stairs. The elevator was not working again.

  Man, I had gotten used to things the easier way. How quickly I’d acclimated to my new lifestyle. It was easy to go up. It was going to be a lot harder coming down.

  Mrs.Josephine had a protocol in place and a worksheet Bruce and I would have to fill out, but I knew we’d gloss over that play act if we had to. Bruce and I would come to terms after she left. I had six months before I was legally a man, but my right fist had been ready to enlist in my private war for a while.

  When Bruce swung the door open, I noted his head was tilted down. He was expecting a boy. And then his gaze tracked up to my face, angling his head so he could see me.

  “Shit.”

  I gave him the look he gave me for so many years. The look of knowing I was more powerful. In the push and shove, in an arm wrestle of life, if it was him versus me, there would be no contest. Not anymore.

  “I’m sorry? This is the right place, right? Bruce Jones? I’m sorry. I just know so many families.” She started to flip through her papers again.

  “You’ve got it right. That’s him,” I offered in my deep voice.

  “Oh, okay. So nice to see you…”

  Mrs. Josephine had to have been in a lot of awkward positions in her life, but I was pretty sure me glowering at my father who looked scared and about twenty years older than his birthdate on our file suggested would be one of her top ten cringeworthy. She was not reuniting a child and parent. She was reuniting a vendetta with a curse.

  Bless her, she tried to start the worksheet as I hefted my suitcases into my old room. It had been left the same. Same bed, same comforter. I couldn’t help myself as Mrs. Josephine asked Bruce what hobbies he planned to take up with me, I leaned over my desk and peeked at Pixie’s window. It was shut tight with black curtains and my window was open, just an inch or so, but it was open. The metal ramp was still jammed between our windows, rusted and ancient-looking like everything outside the window.

  Pixie.

  My heart felt like she was still there, but maybe she wasn’t. I heard Bruce giving some bullshit answers like he and I were going to play catch. He’d closed the door on the Burathons for me. Now he had forced a huge, ripped, angry teen back into his life. I’d make sure he regretted it.

  I walked into the living room. “Hey, Mrs. Josephine, this is great and all, but we both know that worksheet means shit.”


  Bruce spoke up, maybe from his new parenting class, “Son, we don’t speak to ladies like that.” Indigent. Like he was some fancy old Southern woman.

  “This lady here? She’s ten times tougher than you’ll ever be. And don’t call me son. I just left my real dad three hours ago.”

  I watched as his face and chest crumbled with my words. And I felt a pulse of victory. His new fear became something I was looking forward to. I looked at Mrs. Josephine.

  “Unless that paper is going to get me back home with my real family? Then maybe just leave. It’s getting dark and this neighborhood is rough.” I walked to the door and held it open.

  She had a soul, this woman. And it probably wasn’t fair to hit her that hard. She saw where I had been. The beautiful house, the loving family. And now back here to this. Maybe this would bother her when she tried to sleep, but I was tapped out. I had to face a lot tonight, and she was the last door I had to close before I gave up all hope of anything working out with my foster family, until at least I was eighteen and legally allowed.

  I wasn’t going to run away. I wasn’t going to try to get in trouble and be taken away again. It was a six-month sentence, and I had to pay for it. Maybe being Bruce’s flesh and blood came with this price.

  She offered me a handshake and reassured me she’d be in touch.

  “You don’t have to. I’ll be fine.” As she walked out the door, Bruce tried his luck, clapping me on the shoulder.

  “That a boy. We’ll be just fine.” I bent my elbow and snatched his wrist, closing the door before turning to him.