The First Last Boy

by Sonya Weiss

  Shelby and I were going to be roommates at Bayside in the fall. Brooklyn wasn’t sure yet what she wanted to do with her life. Her family owned a small restaurant near the high school and only took in enough profit to live on. The rest of it they used to help feed the city’s homeless and families who struggled to put food on the table. Less than thrilled with the idea, Brooklyn had talked about having to take that over someday when her parents retired if she didn’t do anything else. Her family wanted her to attend Bayside and room with Shelby and me, but Brooklyn wasn’t sure that college was for her.

  “I brought you something,” Shelby said, handing Mark a bag.

  He opened it and pulled out the latest video game. It was expensive and I knew Mom wouldn’t like Shelby spending that kind of money on a gift. His face lit up. “Thanks!”

  “We’re running late. Let’s go, Mark.” Mom came out of her bedroom carrying her shoes. She searched the coffee table for her keys, they grimaced when she realized she had them in her pocket.

  Mark stuffed the game back into the bag and stuck it between the sofa and side table so he wouldn’t have to explain where it came from. In the past, Mom had made him return some of the expensive things Shelby had given him.

  “I’ll play a game with you later and beat you at it,” Shelby volunteered.

  Mark rolled his eyes and whispered back. “You wish.” He threw himself at my legs, winding his arms around me in a tight hug and I ruffled his hair and leaned down to kiss the side of his cheek.

  As soon as he dashed out the door in Mom’s wake, Brooklyn said, “I brought beer.” She darted back outside to her car. Brooklyn always brought the beer. She had fake IDs from four different states.

  “Ryan’s coming right?” Shelby raised her eyebrows and gave me a smug smile when I nodded yes. “I knew it. I told you Ryan would go to the party for you.”

  “He’s my friend. It’s not like we’ve never gone to parties together before. This doesn’t mean anything.” The words sounded empty even to my own ears. I’d never known a guy like Ryan. Someone who was my friend, my shoulder to cry on, my challenger, my rock, and my hiding place when my life was too much to deal with. Despite how close we were though, there was a part of Ryan he kept walled off as if he was protecting himself.

  “You’re not fooling me, Tana. You’re way more into Ryan than you ever were Tristan and Tristan was never even remotely a friend.”

  I didn’t want to think about my mixed up feelings for Ryan. In the friendship zone was where he’d clearly stashed us and that was that despite the heat that simmered, threatening to boil over between us.

  The front door swung in. “I broke up with Three,” Brooklyn announced. She dumped a bag on the coffee table and handed out the light beers. Whenever a boyfriend pissed her off and she dumped him, in her eyes, the guy lost the worthiness to be called by name.

  I took a sip of the beer, not planning on drinking much since I figured I’d have some at the party. “What did he do?”

  “He started talking about moving in together.” She shook her head. “He doesn’t even have a job anymore and doesn’t have plans to get one. Like I was going to support his ass.”

  “I don’t blame you for kicking him to the curb, but you’ve been through three boyfriends this year alone. Maybe you’re choosing guys who aren’t good for you and you don’t recognize that.”

  “I know.” Brooklyn winced at Shelby’s observation. “I’m a magnet for the wrong kind of guy.”

  “You draw guys to you and I seem to repel them. I haven’t had a boyfriend since Adam and I broke up last summer,” Shelby said.

  Brooklyn traced the rim of the bottle with her fingertip. “That’s because you’re scared. You find these button down shirt, vanilla living type guys and you settle for that.”

  “I’m scared?” Shelby asked slowly, furrowing her brow.

  “She’s right, Shel.” I gave her a smile, hoping to lessen the sting. “You always play it safe. Look at Adam. Didn’t your mom hand pick him for you to date?”

  “She introduced us,” Shelby said.

  “And strongly suggested you date him.” Brooklyn glanced at her phone when it rang, then rolled her eyes and silenced it. “Three. Again.”

  Shelby flicked her hair back. “Adam’s a nice guy.”

  “But was he what you wanted?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. He treated me like I was perfect for him.” She took a swallow of her beer. “Granted, it was a little dull, but there were no waves, no issues. Being with him was drama free.”

  “Waves and issues aren’t necessarily a bad thing if they’re part of a healthy relationship. Take a walk on the wild side before you settle for another Mr. Boring Nice Guy.” Brooklyn finished off her beer and set the empty bottle aside. “That way, when you’re neck deep in your pearls and society functions, you’ll have the memories of Mr. Wild to make you feel alive.”

  “I know that you two think my life is one big bore, but I have responsibilities and expectations. I can’t just walk away from them.”

  I exchanged a look with Brooklyn. “Shelby, you’re eighteen years old. Your life is your own.” Shelby’s mother was a real Franken-mom and had structured every moment of her daughter’s life from the time Shelby was a toddler.

  “Next week, I have a date with the son of one of my mother’s garden club friends. He’s rich and handsome. I’m quiet and decorative. Together we’re picture perfect according to my family. My life is my own. Sure.” She looked sad.

  Shelby had spent her life trying hard to be the perfect daughter in order to win her mother’s approval but she had a better chance at turning into a rainbow than she did of that happening.

  Popping her lightly on the leg, I jumped up. “C’mon. We need to get ready.” The three of us went into my room to put on makeup and style our hair.

  Leaning closer to the mirror, Brooklyn slicked lipstick across her full lips. “I don’t miss Three at all, but I already miss the sex.”

  “I haven’t had sex since Adam and I broke up.” Shelby sat on the bed and leaned back to look at the ceiling. “But I don’t miss the sex.” She glanced at Brooklyn. “It was vanilla.” The three of us laughed.

  “I’m going to have sex with Ryan,” I blurted out when the laughter died down. Saying the words out loud whirled my emotions together like someone turned on a blender inside of me.

  Brooklyn froze with a mascara brush halfway to her eyelashes. She lowered it slowly and raised her eyebrows. “Ryan.” She drew his name out.

  “Why do you say his name like that?” I asked, a little embarrassed I’d spilled the information so abruptly.

  “I’m surprised, that’s all.” Brooklyn turned and leaned back against my dresser, her dark eyes worried. “And concerned. Trust fund guys like Adam are boring but at least they’re safe. Guys like Ryan are anything but safe.”

  I scoffed at that. “Ryan would never hurt me.”

  She bit her lip. “Not physically.”

  “Then what?”

  “Guys like him have an allure that reels in a girl. Causes her to lose her head and then her heart because he’s good looking and knows how to play her. They have sex and before you know it, the girl is thinking about the future while he’s thinking about the next girl. Ryan could easily destroy you and you know it. I don’t want to see you broken by him, Tana.”

  I couldn’t understand where Brooklyn’s fears were coming from. Ryan wasn’t playing me. I was the one who’d asked him to have sex. “I appreciate the love, but Ryan isn’t going to break me. It’s just sex and we’re both clear on that.”

  “It’s never “just sex” when the heart’s involved.”

  I sighed. “My heart isn’t involved and neither is Ryan’s.”

  “I don’t know that I believe that about you but maybe for Ryan. I would believe his heart isn’t involved because I have heard he doesn’t have a heart. Maybe he’s too damaged.” Brooklyn whipped around to finish applying her makeup. “A man can be
crushed by the darkness only so many times before he can’t find his way back out. And the stuff I’ve heard about him is some pretty dark shit.”

  I knew Ryan’s past had been bad based on his reaction when I’d asked him about it. We’d been hanging at my house about a year ago and curious, I’d pushed him hard for answers. He’d shut me down and walked away. That had hurt because I felt like he couldn’t trust me with whatever it was that had hurt him. But I knew Ryan and whatever was in his past hadn’t destroyed the good that was in him. “He’s not a bad person.”

  Shelby got up to search my closet. “I have to agree with her, Brook. Though I don’t know Ryan that well, I get the vibe that underneath all that steamy hot exterior, he’s not a bad guy.”

  “Steamy hot?” I laughed when Shelby wiggled her eyebrows and mouthed “oh yeah.”

  “I’m your friend, but I do have eyes, and that guy looks delicious.” She held up a low cut black tank top. “I feel like doing something different, something so not vanilla. Borrow this?”

  I waved my hand at her. “Go ahead.”

  Shelby took off her shirt and tossed it onto the bed then put on the tank. She freed her hair from the band and bent over at the waist, shaking her head and then flipped her hair back upright. “Does Ryan have any brothers? Maybe Brooklyn’s right and I should take a walk on the wild side.”

  I thought for a second. “He does. Juvante and Roman and Clarke are the foster brothers who live with him right now. Clarke is kind of a loser, though. He’s high half the time and the other half, he’s drunk. Roman’s too young, but Ryan has some really hot older foster brothers who don’t live with him. Ryker, Zane and Cooper, but of the three of them, I’d stay away from Cooper.”

  That piqued her interest. “Why Cooper?”

  “I think he might be a little too wild for you.”

  “With Cooper all you’d get is meaningless sex with the kind of guy that your mother definitely wouldn’t approve of,” Brooklyn said with a laugh.

  “Then please, please introduce me.” Shelby opened her purse and frowned. “Or maybe not. I don’t have any condoms.”

  Brooklyn looked amused. “No worries. Guys from the wrong side of the tracks are always prepared to put a sheath on the dagger.” With the look she gave me, I knew she was referring to Ryan.

  Shelby unwrapped a chocolate bar she dug out of her purse and offered us some. “You want to use my grandparents’ vacation house to be with Ryan? They hardly ever go. It’s right across from the Huron River—you remember it. You and Ryan could drive there.”

  I did remember that house. Shelby and I had spent a few weekends there with her grandparents. The house was huge and gorgeous and there were big skylights in all the bedrooms.

  Shelby fished around for her keys. “They let me use it last month. I think I still have the key. Here it is.” She separated it from the key ring and passed it over.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I’ll tell them I’m going to use it with some friends and they won’t care.”

  “Are you sure?” Brooklyn asked with a hard look at me.

  Of course I was sure. The episode at the garage and the way I’d felt when Ryan had touched me had solidified my decision. He was the one and I had no regrets at the thought of being with him. The key burned into the palm of my hand like a talisman.

  *

  RYAN

  “How could you do this shit?” I asked.

  “It’s not a big deal.” Clarke resented me being in his face. He stared at me for a second, then dropped his gaze. “Why are you so jacked?” He spat a circle of blood onto the ground and touched his busted lip with a wince.

  “It’s not about me.” I shoved him backward off the concrete block. “Chanos threatened Tana, you stupid fuck.” Chanos had done some pretty evil shit and the thought of him even thinking about hurting Tana resurrected a side of me I’d hoped to leave behind forever. A side that was nothing but trouble. The same old urge to pound the hell out of something rose up in me. I ran my hand through my hair, my head spinning. I hated the guy I’d once been but I’d be whatever kind of bastard I needed to be to keep Tana safe. There was never any question, never any doubt that I would walk through the fires of hell doused in gasoline for her and I would drag anyone down with me that I had to take.

  Juvante made a gimme motion at Clarke and Roman with his fingers. “Let me see the cash you have left.”

  Roman thrust his hands into his pocket and passed over a folded wad. Clarke did the same and Juvante’s mouth dropped after he finished counting it. “Two grand? For a kilo? You spent the rest?”

  “He only gave us five for all of it,” Roman said.

  “It’s worth thirty-three at least.” Juvante groaned in frustration.

  Running my hand down my face, I walked a few steps away. I couldn’t look at Roman or Clarke without wanting to beat them into bloody stumps. I turned back to face Roman. “Who’s the he you’re talking about?”

  “The guy at the warehouse,” Clarke mumbled.

  “I warned him. I told Clarke it was a bad idea to take it.” Roman rubbed his closely cropped hair, looking sick to his stomach.

  “Yeah, but he’s stupid and you’re not,” Juvante said. “Five for a fucking kilo.” He smacked Roman’s shoulder. “You should’ve looked out for your brother.”

  Roman tensed and I stepped between them. “What’s the guy’s name?”

  “Rattoni.”

  “You believed the Rat? That guy’s first baby words were a lie. Ah, man.” Juvante handed me the money. “Hold that. I’ll be right back.” He went inside the house and when he returned, he was packing. If Mama Leena knew he kept that in his room, she’d have his head on a platter. He jerked his head at me. “Rat hangs at the crack house on Manor. C’mon.”

  Roman and Clarke made like they were going to go with us and I stopped them. “You idiots stay here before you get us killed.”

  ***

  The closer I drove to the crack house, the more desolate the area became. The poverty, the despondency, was a way of life in some areas of Caldwell. Crime didn’t happen without a purpose here and that purpose was survival. Those who looked down their noses at the young men hustling to make a buck probably never experienced hunger gnawing like a rat at their stomach. Probably never saw tears track down a kid’s face for the same reason. I’d been one of those kids.

  I drove past the park with the broken down play equipment, past the pawn shop, and the liquor stores dotting every other corner. Every other spot in the road was a pothole big enough to blow a tire.

  “Home sweet home.” Juvante leaned back with a long exhale and his leg jiggled nervously. “Never thought I’d be back in this neighborhood.”

  “Me either.” The same ugliness of the streets lived in me and no matter how far away I went I would always carry it in the lessons I’d learned and the scars that I’d earned.

  “Memories, man.” He glanced at me. “You get out but they tag along.”

  “I know.” I turned down a street that was full of half-vacant houses and parked the Charger in front of the crack house.

  From the outside, at a distance, the house didn’t look too bad, but the closer we walked toward it, the uglier it became. The siding was gouged in places and duct tape covered holes in the windows. Before we even reached the front door, the stench from toilets that didn’t work assailed us and I fought the urge to gag.

  The front door was half-open. I pushed it all the way open and we walked in. Old magazines and cards were strewn on the floor among dozens of beer cans. Several people in various stages of stupor were lying about with a few more asleep with their faces on the stained carpet. The walls were more holes than actual drywall and rat droppings created a thick coating along the baseboards. On the trash-strewn kitchen counter a half-naked couple made a feeble attempt to have sex but kept missing each other.

  “When you’re too stoned to fuck, you’re too stoned,” Juvante muttered, looking disgus
ted.

  I looked over the group until I saw the guy I wanted. Skinny little guy with a nervous twitch at the end of his nose. He had long greasy blond hair slicked back into a ponytail and a meth mouth full of rotted teeth. One arm was wrapped around a girl whose eyes were closed while drool dripped from one corner of her lips.

  We shoved our way through the bodies until we reached Rat. He looked up at us and burped. The putrid scent of sour breath and unwashed body greeted us.

  “Damn.” Juvante screwed up his face and waved his hand.

  Rat’s eyes went wide with recognition and he scrambled to his feet, swaying back and forth. The girl fell over to one side without a sound. “It was a joke man. I didn’t think he’d fall for it. I was gonna give it back but...”

  “But...” I prompted.

  “It’s all gone,” Rat said, not sounding a bit sorry. One side of his mouth lifted up like he was making an attempt to smile.

  “You think it’s funny stealing Chanos’ shit? That’s it. I’m gonna pop his ass.” Juvante flicked aside his shirt and exposed the handle of the gun in his waistband. I knew Juvante wouldn’t use it because my brother hated violence as much as I did, but Rat didn’t know that.

  Holding both hands out, Rat kept his gaze glued on the gun and stammered, “Give me two weeks. I swear on my mother’s grave I’ll get every dime of the street value back to you.”

  “You had a mother?” Juvante asked.

  “You know I’m good for it,” Rat wheedled. “I’ll talk to Chanos. I’ll make it right, I swear.”

  “One week. Next Saturday. I’ll be back then. If you don’t show, I’ll find you,” I said.

  Rat rubbed his hair and his brow furrowed. He scrubbed his chin. “I don’t know man...one week...I can get maybe half that...”

  “Dumbass, I’m not Kmart. Do I look like I’m offering you a fucking layaway plan? One week.” I stared him down until he lowered his gaze, then I hit Juvante on the arm and we turned to leave.