The other ten percent of the time my brother drank too much or smoked too much pot and wound up getting himself into trouble. He didn’t see it that way. I knew that later on, after whatever pills he’d taken had worked their way out of his system that Mike would tell me I made a big deal out of nothing and that I needed to learn how to chill. One of us had to be the worrier though, because my brother seemed to think that no matter what happened things would work out, and I happened to know for a fact that wasn’t true.
As a child Mike had been as damn close to perfect as a son could get, but after my dad decided he’d had enough of his disappointing children and pretty much abandoned us, my brother went wild doing all the things he’d always been too scared to when we were under my parent’s roof. And when Mike got upset, which thankfully didn’t happen too often, he got pretty self-destructive.
Justin sat beside me and placed his hand on the small of my back. “You all right?”
I sat up straight and took my hands from my face. “Yeah.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll be fine.”
Justin’s eyes darted around the room. He was probably wondering how in the world I managed to lure him to my ghetto neighborhood and rundown apartment. I waited to hear what was on his mind. “So you live here with your brother?”
“Don’t be jealous,” I replied, sarcastically, trying to ease the tension I felt inside.
“Well, I’m not going to lie. It’s not the nicest apartment in the world, but. . .”
“But it’s all I can afford for now. I have tuition to pay for and the job at the community center is great, but it’s not exactly the best paying.” I tried not to sound bitter.
“Your parents can’t help you out at all?”
“They can. They just don’t want to.”
“I can’t believe that. You’re like a perfect daughter. You go to college, you have a job. . .and you’re a really good person.”
“How do you know I’m a good person?” Compliments made me uncomfortable, especially ones about my character. I wanted to be good, but most of the time I didn’t see myself that way. I saw myself through my father’s eyes. Lazy, selfish, shallow. It had been years since I’d seen my father and had to hear him say those things to me. Fourteen years of having him raise me had been enough to convince me it was true. For four years I was forced to sit through weekly mandatory counseling sessions at the group home, but the social worker assigned to me was more interested in staring at her manicure than helping me. “It’s not like we’ve known each other that long.”
“Long enough for me to figure that out about you. I see the way you are with the kids at the center. They really like you, you know.”
“Really?” I turned to look at Justin’s face. He seemed sincere as he nodded, but suddenly I was desperate to change the subject. So. . .” I finally said after a few moments of silence passed. “How about we talk about you instead?”
“Sure. What do you want to know?”
“What was it like being in the Navy? Did you get to go to any fun places?”
“There was boot camp and corps school in Chicago. Then I got stuck at Camp Lejeune, or swamp Lejeune as everyone calls it, which sucked almost as bad as Afghanistan did.”
“You went to Afghanistan? What was that like?” The truth was Justin was the first military person I’d ever met, and I found the whole idea of it sort of fascinating.
“Pretty boring.” Justin’s face went blank and after a moment he stood and started for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To get your brother some water.”
A minute later Justin was back with a glass of water in his hand. He was able to get Mike to take a few sips.
Justin sat back down beside me, the glass of water still in his hands. He wiped the beads of condensation off with his fingertips “So why won’t your parents help you?”
“Long story.”
“You always say that when you don’t want to answer something.”
“It’s not like you’ve told me your whole life’s story either. And we agreed that you’d go first, remember?”
Justin frowned. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.” Justin set the glass of water down on my brother’s bedside table. “But since you insist, what else is it that you want to know about me anyway?”
“Well, I was kind of curious about your injury.”
Justin looked at me, but didn’t say anything.
“Is it PTSD? Is that what happened to you?”
He had that same faraway look in his eyes that he did when he first told me he’d left the Navy because of an injury. “Yeah.”
There was a girl who stayed in the group home for a while whose dad had PTSD so bad that he physically abused her. When she told me the things he’d done to her I couldn’t believe she still loved him, but she did. She’d visit him on weekends sometimes and came home crying when things didn’t work out the way she wanted them to. My mother tried to convince me that’s what was wrong with my dad too. Only she didn’t use the words PTSD. She would just say that my father had been through a lot and that’s what made him act the way he did.
I was about to ask Justin about his limp, but it was pretty obvious that he didn’t want to talk about it so I didn’t push. He picked up the glass of water again and gave my brother a few more sips to drink.
“Where’s Mel?” my brother asked after he was done drinking. His speech was still slurred, but at least he was awake.
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her today.”
“I need my phone,” Mike said. He reached under his pillow and threw aside his blankets trying to find it.
“I really think you better wait to call her until you sound a little less drunk.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Drunk, high, whatever. You’ll just get Mel pissed off if you call her sounding like you do now.”
Justin cleared his throat and I turned around. For a second I’d almost forgotten he was in the room with me and Mike.
“I’m going to get us all something to eat while you two talk.”
“You don’t need to do that,” I protested.
“Yes he does,” Mike interrupted. “I’m starving. I’d like an everything-bagel with cream cheese, and an espresso, double shot.”
I glared at my brother. “Ignore him, Justin.”
Justin turned and headed for the door. “Got it,” he said. “One-everything bagel. I’ll just get you what I think you might like, Jesse, ’cause I know you’re not going to tell me.”
After Justin left my brother sat up in bed. He looked up at me with a smile on his face. “So that’s Justin?”
“Yes.”
“What’s he doing here? I thought you two were just friends.”
“We are. He called me while I was in panic mode about you and insisted on coming over here to help.”
“Sounds suspiciously like a guy who’s interested in my sister.”
“No. He knows medical stuff, so he was just trying to be helpful.”
Mike swung his legs around and reached for my hand. I resisted the urge to mother him and tell him to get back in bed, instead I helped to get him on his feet. “You know, you’re impossibly naïve.”
My brother was wrong, I knew a lot more about boys than he thought I did, but I didn’t argue. In many ways he knew me best, but there was a chunk of my life that he knew nothing about, and that was probably for the best. Besides, it wasn’t naiveté that kept me believing Justin was interested. I couldn’t bring myself to believe it was true, because what if it wasn’t?
“Where are you going?” I asked as Mike headed for the door.
“To take a shower. I want to be dressed by the time your friend gets back with breakfast.”
“Before you do that can you at least tell me what the hell you were thinking taking all those pills?” I said, my hands on my hips.
Mike sighed, then turned to face me. “I pretty much passed out after I got back home, but then I woke
up too early and I was still in a shitty mood about me and Mel fighting so I couldn’t fall back asleep. That’s why I started taking those pills. My buddy Parker gave them to me a while back, he told me they were for sleeping. I took one, but it didn’t feel like it was doing anything. So I took another one and then another. I probably should’ve just given them more time to work.”
I shook my head and sighed. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. You scared the shit out of me.”
Chapter 6
By the time Justin got back, my brother was dressed and pretty much back to normal. Mike finished his bagel and coffee and went in his room, probably to call Mel.
“You don’t need to stay,” I said to Justin. “It looks like my brother has made a full recovery.”
“You’re sure you don’t want me to hang out a little longer?”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s okay.”
There were no regular taxis that drove around my neighborhood, so I called a service to come and get Justin. They showed up about fifteen minutes later. I walked Justin outside. “Thanks for coming,” I told him. “Looks like I owe you, again.”
“No. You don’t.” Justin brushed back some stray hairs that had fallen in my face. His touch was unexpected, and made me feel that crazy fluttery feeling in my chest that I knew meant bad news or me. “See you Monday?”
I nodded and Justin walked away. I waited until his cab was out of sight before going back inside. My brother was still in his room talking to his girlfriend. Suddenly I had an urge to get out of my apartment. I needed some air, having four walls around me felt suffocating. It was another hot day, but I didn’t really care. My mind was too busy trying to process everything that had just happened, but the more I tried, the more frustrated I became. I walked towards the Fulton Street Mall figuring that the crowds and the stores would be a good distraction. It was about a twenty-minute walk from my house. I didn’t have enough money for a shopping trip, but that didn’t keep me from being able to browse.
By the time I returned home a few hours later my brother was gone. I didn’t hear from him for the rest of the weekend, which I prayed meant that he and Melanie had made up.
On Monday, after arriving at work, Mrs. Connor came looking for me. She had a list of activities planned for the next two weeks that she wanted to talk to me about.
“We had a lot more sign-ups for the museum trips than I anticipated, so we’ll have to go in two different groups. This week we go to the Met, and next week to the Museum of Modern Art.”
It sort of surprised me that so many of the kids wanted to go on the trips, but I liked the idea of getting out, so it was fine with me. On Tuesday, me, Mrs. Connor, Justin and a handful of kids met in the gymnasium before making our way to the train station. I watched Justin as he walked in front of me. Even in eighty plus degree weather, Justin still had on pants. It seemed weird because he had the type of job where it was actually okay to wear shorts.
Justin turned around and I looked away before he could catch that I’d been staring at him. I weaved my way through the crowd until I was sure Justin couldn’t see me. He called my name to get my attention, but I pretended I didn’t hear him. We hadn’t talked at all since he’d left my apartment on Friday and with my worry over Mike out of the way all I could think about was the way Justin had looked at my apartment. I felt too embarrassed to have a conversation with him. Not that it mattered—we worked together so it was sort of inevitable, but I could put it off, or at least I thought I could. It turned out I was wrong, halfway down the block Justin caught up with me.
“Hey,” he said putting his hand on my arm. “Did I do something to piss you off?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t hear me calling your name?”
“Over all this noise?” I said, covering. I didn’t want him to think I was purposefully avoiding him.
Justin wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “God, it sure is hot out here.”
“If you knew we’d be going out in this heat, why didn’t you just wear shorts?”
“I don’t like wearing shorts. Can’t get the ladies to stop staring at me when I do.”
“If you do say so yourself.” Without fail, Justin knew how to make me smile and laugh. He could turn anything into a joke.
Justin might have been joking, but I didn’t doubt that what he said was true. Sometimes when Justin stood close to me and looked at me I felt like reaching out and brushing my fingertips across the freckles that dotted the bridge of his nose and cheeks. There was something magnetic about him, and it wasn’t just the way he looked that made him that way. He had a soft, tender side that I found incredibly appealing.
On the train Justin and I sat beside each other. “So how’s your brother doing?” he asked.
“Good. You saw him. Once that medication wore off he was totally fine.” I felt a need to justify my brother’s carelessness. “I know you might not really believe this, but most of the time my brother is a totally cool guy.”
“Hey, I’m not judging. I’ve done plenty of stupid things in my life.”
“Somehow I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true,” Justin insisted. I wasn’t buying it, though. Although after he said it I realized there was a lot about Justin’s life I didn’t know and now that I had his attention it was a good time to ask more questions.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Yup, two brothers, no sisters.”
“You must be the baby.” I wasn’t sure why I thought he was.
“Actually, no. I’m the oldest. My brothers are a few years younger than me. They’re both in college and. . .I’m the loser big brother who’s still at home with his parents.”
This time it didn’t sound like he was joking. “I’m sure that’s not how your parents see it.”
The train screeched to a sudden stop slamming me into Justin. My body pressed against his. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” My face felt flushed as I realized that I’d noticed how strong his chest felt and how good he smelled.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, as I scooted back towards my seat. I wiped my forehead with my palm. “So do you get along with your brothers?” I asked.
“Yeah. We get along. I don’t see them very often. Jeff, he’s the middle one, has a girlfriend that he’s always with, and James just started college last year so he’s busy enjoying his new found freedom.”
I wanted to keep talking to Justin, but we’d arrived at our destination and keeping a group of teenagers quiet in a museum was harder than I thought it would be. That explained why Mrs. Connor wanted to bring the kids in two smaller groups rather than all at once. I pictured myself the way I was just four years earlier, the age that most of the kids with us were. It was crazy how much I’d changed. Four years ago I was so angry at the world. Sometimes I still was, but nothing like I had been then. I couldn’t imagine myself signing up to go on a trip like the one we were on, but if I’d gone, I probably would have been making jokes and acting stupid. Now I looked at the art hanging on the walls of the museum and found myself appreciating it.
It was either the field trips, or the knowledge that summer was more than half over that made the next two weeks pass by too quickly. I found myself willing time to slow down. Come the end of August my job would be over. I’d miss the kids and Mrs. Connor—and Justin. Maybe we’d keep in touch for the next few months, but eventually I predicted our friendship would fade. Brooklyn was too far from the Upper East Side, and with me back to a full schedule of classes and Justin still working full-time at the community center I doubted either of us would find the time to hang out. If he was interested in me, now was the time for him to act, but he didn’t, and with each day that passed I was beginning to lose hope that he ever would.
On our last museum trip I noticed something was quite right with Justin. He walked funny, his slight limp more pronounced than usual, and I would’ve
sworn that I noticed an expression of pain pass across his face a few times while we were walking.
“Basketball injury?” I asked.
“What?”
“You look like you hurt your leg.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m fine.”
It wasn’t just his limp that caught my attention. Justin was quieter, less conversational than he normally was. But it wasn’t until he didn’t show up for work the following week that I realized something was wrong. By Wednesday I finally broke down and called him, but he didn’t pick up his phone. By Friday, when he still hadn’t shown up for work or returned my calls I tried texting.
Everything all right?
I was surprised and relieved when he replied. Yes
Where have you been?
Vacationing in the Bahamas – don’t tell Mrs. Connor though, she thinks I’m sick
Next time you’re bringing me
Deal
I spent the weekend looking forward to seeing Justin on Monday, but he didn’t show up. Whatever was wrong with him it had to be bad, he’d missed over a week of work, that wasn’t like him. I was going through some serious Justin withdrawal. It was awful how badly I wanted to see and talk to him. I knew eventually he’d be back, but when? In the evening before I left for home I went to look for Mrs. Connor and found her in her office.
“I was wondering if you’ve heard from Justin.”
“I have,” she said, without looking up from her desk.
“He’s been sick for over a week. Is he okay?”
“It’s not my place to talk about Justin’s medical problems.” I took that as Mrs. Connor’s polite way of telling me to mind my business and didn’t bother her with any more questions. But Justin was on my mind as I rode the train back home.
I called him later in the evening, but he didn’t answer. He stayed on my mind most of the evening and by the time I went to bed I’d formed a plan. On my way to work I’d stop at his place first with breakfast. I’d tell him it was repayment for all the favors he’d done for me. I had his address written down on a piece of paper somewhere, so I knew where he lived. With my plan to see Justin perfected, I fell asleep with the look I anticipated on Justin’s face on my mind. He’d be surprised, but I felt fairly confident that he’d be happy, too.
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