by Lexie Ray
After breakfast, I saw Jennet and Luke out and collapsed back into my bed to sleep for a few more hours before the club opened for the day. I was so thankful that Jennet’s schedule at the snack shop allowed her to get Luke to school just in time to open up at her work.
She held off on taking her break until it was time for school to let out, when I would normally be entrenched at the club, and saw Luke home. If she was working a double, Jennet would drop Luke off with Nick for a couple of hours, and I would come home from work to help with homework and cook dinner. If Jennet was able to stay with Luke for the rest of the night, I wouldn’t come home until the club closed and I’d collected money from the last escort. It was a brutal schedule for me, and I didn’t like not seeing Luke very much, but my friends understood how hard it was for me to get the tuition money together.
And Nick wouldn’t be Nick if he didn’t offer to help.
“Look, the band did really well at our last gig,” he said one night when I was yawning and waiting for Luke to pack up his school supplies from their spread across Nick’s table.
“I’m happy for you musically,” I said, leaning on the doorjamb and looking forward to just sitting on the couch for a little while and asking my brother about his day.
“What I’m saying is that you don’t have to work so hard,” Nick said. “Seriously. I’ll pool some funds together and get that semester covered.”
“You’re really, really nice, Nick,” I said, “and very musically inclined. But I really don’t think you did well enough at your last gig — judging from the gig I went to with Jennet that time — to pay for a semester at St. Anthony.” Exhaustion blunted my words. I really was touched by our neighbor’s kindness, and he was indispensible when it came to looking after Luke, but I would never want to take a cent of his money. We all worked hard for it, Nick included.
He sighed and put his hand on his hip — he’d been reaching for his pocket.
“You’ll let me know if you ever really need help, right?” he asked softly, barely over the clatter of Luke dumping his markers into his backpack.
“You do so much already, Nick,” I said. “Really. You really do. I hope you don’t think I’m being ungrateful. But the money thing is something I just have to do. I’ve always wanted to, I’ve always had to, and I can’t stop now.”
“I understand,” Nick said, looking perplexed in spite of his declaration. “Will you say hello to Jennet for me?”
“Tell her yourself,” I laughed, crushing Luke to me in a mock headlock. “You live right across the hallway from her.”
“Isn’t she dating some guy right now?” he asked, the line between his eyebrows deepening ever so slightly, as if that was even more bewildering than me not asking for money from a broke musician.
“That’d be news to me,” I said. “Still no reason why you can’t pop in every so often, though.”
“I wouldn’t want to bother her,” Nick said, shaking his head dismissively. “What would her boyfriend think?”
“That you’re a good neighbor, a wonderful friend, and an awesome musician,” I said, marching Luke through the door. “Have a good one. Thanks again.”
I smiled to myself as we walked inside our own apartment and Luke fumbled through his backpack to show me something he’d done at school. It was so obvious that Nick had feelings for Jennet, but he’d never get her attention if he didn’t act on them a little more boldly. Jennet was a girl who had to be impressed. Nick needed to improve his game.
“Drew this during art,” Luke said, handing me a piece of paper and ducking his head a little, shy.
I took the page and examined it. It was a remarkable still life, done in pencils, and featured several vases of flowers.
“Are you sure you did this in art?” I teased him, raising my eyebrows even as I couldn’t keep a smile from my face. “Are you sure it didn’t happen sometime in math? You better be paying attention, boy, and that first report card better knock my socks off.”
“You never wear socks,” he observed, eyeing my flip-flops. “And it was so during art. You think we just have a bunch of flowers sitting around during math?”
“I believe you,” I said, hugging him to my side. “It’s gorgeous, Luke. You’re so talented. I’d say we should hang it on the refrigerator, but I think we’d better go get a frame, get an agent lined up, and maybe get you to drop out of school to pursue this art thing full time. What do you say?”
“I don’t want to drop out of school,” he protested.
“That’s my brother,” I said. “Always stay in school. Excellent.”
We went over his homework for the night, me checking and double-checking his work to make sure it was perfect. It had been so long since I’d had to crack a book, but I didn’t want my brother ever giving academia up for anything.
“I don’t really know what to write for my theme,” he said, touching his language arts journal contemplatively.
“What’s the topic?” I asked, yawning a little. Writing was definitely never my thing in school. I always liked figures better. They helped me plan for my future.
“A life-defining moment,” Luke said, looking me in the eye since the first time he brought the assignment up. “And it has to be real.”
My frown was thunderous and immediate. “You have plenty to write about without writing about that,” I told him. “What are you, crazy?”
My brother’s scowl matched my own. “Don’t call me crazy.”
“I’m not,” I relented. “But use your brain, Luke. You can’t write about that. You can never write about that — not ever, not even if it’s the plot of some great fiction novel you write someday. That is something you can never even speak about. Trust me on this.”
“Well, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, then,” he said, throwing his hands up in the air.
“Write about the day you found out you were going to be attending St. Anthony’s,” I said, brightening. “That was pretty life-defining, wouldn’t you say? Plus we had a good day at the zoo.” My frown faded, remembering the way we’d fed the giraffes at a special station and one of them had mistook Jennet’s vivid hair for an additional snack. God, how we’d laughed.
“No, that’s sucking up,” Luke said. “Plus, why would St. Anthony’s define my life? I’ve only just started going there.”
I opened my mouth to shoot off an explanation and shut it again. The reason St. Anthony’s was going to define his life was because he was being challenged, and being challenged meant being distracted from his terrible past. Luke certainly couldn’t put that in a theme. Even as I hemmed and hawed and worried, I was dazzled by how much my brother was being drawn out of his shell after such a short time at his new school. He was whip smart, but I couldn’t help but cringe at the idea that perhaps he was too smart for his own good.
“You could write about moving in with me,” I suggested. “And moving to Miami.”
“But the only reason I moved in with you was because of what happened,” Luke said, his eyes almost accusatory. “And you said I can’t write about that.”
“You’re right about that,” I said. “You can’t write about that. But sooner or later, you were going to move in with me. That was always the plan. I was going to age out, and then we were going to be together.”
“Whose plan was it?” Luke asked, sounding suspicious.
“Mine,” I said briskly. “Just put that in your theme. I aged out and asked the judge to release you into my custody, and then we moved. I don’t know what’s more life-defining than that.”
“But what do I write?” Luke demanded, sounding agonized. “I can’t write about Mom — my other mother. And I can’t write about our parents who died. And I can’t even write about the city we used to live in — Albuquerque.”
I shook my head violently. “Don’t even say the name. Don’t even think it.”
“Don’t you see how impossible this is?” he asked, throwing his hands in the air helplessly.
&n
bsp; I did. I saw it very clearly. I had gotten very good at lying — at the very least through omission — and my brother had yet to learn. He needed to figure it out fast, or he was going to get us both in a lot of trouble.
“Here’s the thing,” I said. “Listen up, because I don’t want to have to rehash this with you. I am the only one you can talk to about Albuquerque. I know that everything happened not so long ago, and I recognize that it’s difficult for you. As time passes, it’ll be easier to forget about — especially since you’ll be making new memories at St. Anthony’s and here in Miami.”
“I will never, ever forget about it,” Luke said, crossing his arms over his chest in what I’m sure he meant to be a defiant posture. To me, it looked much more defensive, and it squeezed my heart.
“You will,” I assured him. “You definitely will.”
“Hey, guys!” Jennet chirped, shouldering her way into the apartment, still dressed in her Corn Queen costume. “What’s happening? How was everyone’s day?”
“Great!” I said brightly. “Wait till you see the latest masterpiece from our man Luke.”
I elbowed my brother, maybe a little too sharply, trying to prompt him to perk up and give Jennet his best poker face.
“It’s just of some dumb flowers,” he said glumly, grabbing his backpack and heading for his room. “I have homework to do.”
I felt like I was being unfair, even as anger and fear surged through me. Jennet knew about Luke’s past, even if I warned her never to talk with him about it. I felt like if she took us in, she had to know the truth, had to know what was in store for her. And Jennet had been great about it — super understanding in spite of everything, and swearing herself to secrecy even before I could get a chance to.
The thing was, even if it might’ve helped Luke to talk with Jennet about his past, I didn’t want him feeling comfortable going to anyone else but me about his troubles. I felt like it could’ve opened way too many doors for him. He hadn’t developed any close friends — or many friends at all — during his short time at the public school when we first moved to Miami. But what if he got a best friend at St. Anthony’s? What if they were sharing secrets and Luke was moved to talk about his past? It wouldn’t take long for the life I’d tried to build for us to be upheaved, and it would be because Luke placed his trust in the wrong person.
I was the only one he could trust. I needed to be that for him. I’d gotten him out; I’d saved him from what would’ve surely been a swift and merciless consequence. No matter how much it tormented my brother that I was so ready to put a seal on the past and never let it out, I had to be that person.
Luke’s bedroom door slammed, and Jennet plopped down on the couch beside me, her costume taking up nearly all the space.
“What was all that about?” she asked. “He’s normally in such a good mood these days after classes.”
“It was really a nice drawing,” I said wistfully. We really had been having a nice evening prior to the argument about his language arts theme. Was there any chance I could talk to the principal, get Luke exempt from all nonfiction writing assignments that pertained to his life? Not bloody likely.
“Boys will be boys,” Jennet said. “How was your day?”
“Just getting started, I’m afraid,” I said, heaving myself off the couch. I’d take a shower, get dressed, head back to the club, and see what I could add to the tuition fund before dropping back into bed in the wee hours, exhausted and out of my mind.
“I’d say you’re halfway done, at least,” Jennet said, looking comical as she tried to put her hands behind her head to prop her neck up. The costume kept her from gesturing too wildly.
“I don’t know,” I said, grabbing a banana from the bowl of fruit on the kitchen counter. Fast energy, not too filling, perfect for dancing. “My boss has been talking about extending hours.”
“What do you mean, ‘extending hours?’” Jennet asked, giving up on putting her hands behind her head and struggling instead to fold them over the broad belly of her corncob costume. “You work all day as it is.”
“Well, the club has to operate on set hours as it is,” I said. “That can’t be open 24 hours a day. But the escort portion of the business could happen at any time, as long as Parker’s managing it and we’re making money.”
“So, more escorting then,” my roommate said, nodding to herself. “Aren’t you worried?”
I shrugged. “That’s how I got the big boost for Luke’s tuition,” I said. “And it wasn’t bad at all. Literally, the only thing I am worried about is my brother.”
“Yeah, but keep yourself safe for him,” Jennet said, wincing as her costume won again, its girth prying her hands apart.
“Always,” I agreed before smirking. “Why do you wear that thing around, anyway? You could always change once you get to the snack shop — and before you leave for the day?”
“The costume makes people smile,” she explained. “I feel like I’m doing a good deed, bringing smiles to weary commuters on their way to and from work. Plus, I think Luke likes it. I like to make him smile.”
“Me, too.” That was why I needed to escort, why I was actually excited about Parker’s plan to extend hours. More hours to work meant more money, and I would be able to afford Luke’s tuition and other things to make him happier. Nicer art supplies, maybe. A video game system. Some ridiculously priced sneakers I’d caught him eyeing on our last shopping trip before school had started.
Life had been hard enough on my brother. I wanted him to have everything that might make him happy.
If only I could do something about erasing his bad memories.
“All right, I’d better head out,” I said.
“No dinner?” Jennet asked, her nose wrinkling up in concern. “You’re going to waste away.”
“I doubt that,” I said, waving the banana at her and patting my rump. “I’ve got some reserves here. And there’s still some frozen lasagna.”
“Last time I served that up for Luke, he said he was sick of it,” she told me, frowning. “Anything else?”
“I’ll cook up something fresh tomorrow,” I promised. “For tonight, just shove some pepperoni in it and call it pizza lasagna. Works every time.”
“Ugh, my mouth is watering,” she laughed. “Sounds so good.”
It was so easy to cook in advance and freeze everything, thawing it as needed. But my brother did get tired of leftovers pretty quickly, and there was nothing simpler to me than concocting a huge casserole of lasagna. I vowed to scour the Internet for better recipes at my earliest convenience.
The shower — and a quick cup of coffee — helped refresh me, and I found myself looking forward to getting back to work.
“Hey, leave your language arts theme on the table when you wrap it up,” I said, popping my head in Luke’s door. “I’d love to give it a read when I get home.”
My brother looked up at me and pulled a frown over his notebook. “You just want to make sure I don’t tell the truth.”
I sighed. “I want you to tell the truth. But tell the truth about anything but that. Okay? Do you understand why it wouldn’t be a good idea?”
My brother matched my sigh with a heave of his chest. “I understand.”
“Don’t stay up too late,” I said, closing his door to a crack before heading out.
“Good luck!” Jennet called after me. “Be safe!”
At one point, Luke would probably figure out that I wasn’t just waiting tables anymore. He was such a smart kid, and I hated lying to him. But how could I tell my kid brother that I was selling myself for our survival — and his happiness? I hoped that it would be several more years before he started asking the right questions. As it was, I told him he couldn’t eat at my restaurant because it was too fancy — no kids allowed. How long was that story going to last me?
I parked in the employee lot and eyed the customer lot. There were a lot of cars parked, especially for how relatively early in the evening it was. Good. I�
��d impress all of them with my dancing, and hopefully there’d be at least one client who’d like me to accompany him elsewhere for even more money.
Would I have sex with one of them again? Maybe — if the price was right. I doubted that I’d ever see Marcus again, but perhaps if Parker gave me any other special assignments, vouching for the customer, I’d be able to further secure Luke’s future.
As soon as I got to the dressing room, however, my train of thought was derailed by the sight of sweet, saucy Sol, her face in her hands, crumpled up on the floor.
“Sol!” I cried, rushing to her and kneeling in front of her. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
All she could do was weep into her hands, shaking her head quickly.
I put my arms around her and held her as she trembled and sobbed. What could have happened? I’d never so much as seen her without her wide, bright smile, even when she was first starting off here and unsure of herself. She would practice and practice her moves, determined to master her craft, to succeed at this place.