Boyfriend

by Faye McCray

  “Oh, Junior…” My mother stood noticing I was approaching, tears staining her midnight skin.

  My sister walked away, peeking out the window at the end of the hall, playing with her imaginary cigarette in her fingertips. My mother dropped her arms around me, pulling me to her in a way she hadn’t done since I was a child.

  “He’s going to be fine.” Her tears wet the side of my face and she held me tighter.

  I looked up at my sister who stared at me, the anger in her eyes apparent. My shoulders slumped in my mother’s arms and for the first time in a long time, I felt like crying.

  ***

  I decided to spend the evening at my parents’ house and catch the bus back to school the next day. My father had managed to fracture his left lower leg, left arm, and left orbital bone. He was still unconscious from a concussion with bleeding on the brain, but the doctors were able to stop the hemorrhage. The doctors said my father would have to stay in the hospital for at least another couple of weeks, so I knew it would give me a chance to rummage through some of my old things without my father’s interference. Sitting on a folding chair in my old bedroom, I allowed myself to wonder what life would be like without him in it. If he had died in the accident and not been given another chance.

  For as long as I could remember, my father had been an alcoholic. He drank just a few beers during the day to get through work, but by evening, he was usually belligerent and incoherent. Good days were days where he came home and passed out, only waking in the middle of the night to eat dinner and drink some more. Bad days were days when he would come home in a rage, throwing objects and hitting walls.

  When we were little, my mother tried hard to hold the family together. She would give my father ultimatums and take him back and forth to AA meetings. When things got really bad, she would send us to stay with her aunt, Laura, in North Carolina. Inevitably, my parents would come and get us after a few weeks, draped in each other’s arms with big smiles spread across their faces. My father would apologize for his behavior and charm us all, hugging and kissing us. He’d ask us about the toys we wanted or the vacations we wanted to take. My mother would watch him and smile, wanting to believe him. Those moments grew further and further apart until eventually, they didn’t happen at all. When I was accepted to college, I counted down the days until I could leave that house and everyone in it. Leaving was the subject of my college application essay.

  ***

  I was rummaging through an old box of comic books and lost in thought when I looked up and noticed Natalie standing at the threshold to my old bedroom with her head cocked to the side and arms crossed. She took a breath as if to begin a thought and then paused as her eyes darted around the room.

  “What’s up, kid?”

  She smiled walking in. “You’re going to be calling me that when I’m 30.”

  “Probably.” I chuckled. “I’m surprised you never moved in here after I moved out.” I looked around at the pukey peach walls and dingy blue carpet. My old brass bed frame was barely visible beneath the piles of junk now crowding the room. It wasn’t glamourous but it was bigger than her room, and a little further away from our parents.

  “It smells like boy,” she said wrinkling her nose.

  “It should remind you of me.”

  “Ick.”

  I laughed.

  She leaned against the wall beside me and slid down, sitting on the floor with her legs stretched out in front of her. She played with ends of her long curls, twirling them in her fingertips.

  “How’s D.C.?” She asked after a moment, in a tone that seemed more eager than I expected.

  “It is what it is.” Sensing her disappointment, I elaborated, “Weather is nicer. It’s cool to finally be on my own.” I pulled a comic book out of its plastic wrapper and began flipping through the pages. She nodded. “How’re things here?” I asked putting the comic back in the box and looking at her.

  “Can’t you guess?” She rested her head against the wall and gazed up at the ceiling.

  I nodded. “I mean, aside from the bullshit.”

  “There’s only bullshit, Nate.” She looked at me then stared at the floor. Her fingers tugging at frayed carpet hairs. “I’m thinking about dropping out of school.” Natalie was seventeen and in her senior year of high school.

  “What? To do what?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not as smart as you so I’m probably not going to college. Probably just get a job. D.C. isn’t that expensive, right?”

  I laughed, but my heart began to pound. D.C. was mine.

  “I’m kidding.” I knew she wasn’t. “I don’t know. Maybe go to California.”

  “What?” I laughed. “What’s in California?”

  “Forget it.” She stood and placed her hand on the door preparing to leave the room. “I’m just being dramatic.” She tried to laugh and return the lightness to the room but the tears were already pooling in her eyes.

  I stood up and reached for her arm. “What’s going on, Nat?”

  She looked into my eyes, her eyes growing red. “Daddy.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. How could she possibly be upset about an accident he caused? “The doctor’s said he’ll be fine.”

  She shook her head. “Things have gotten really bad, Nate.”

  I was quiet, wondering how they could be any worse.

  “He barely works now. He just stays home drinking,” she started. “The night before his accident while Ma was at work, I came home and he was just sitting there. In the dark. Holding one of those damn bottles in his hand. Like he had never gotten up. Like he had been sitting there for hours.” She took a deep breath and continued, “He asked me to bring him something to eat and when I went to take off my coat, he threw the bottle at me. For no fucking reason, Nate. Just threw it at me. It barely missed my head but hit the wall shattered on the floor. The glass flew everywhere.” The tears were streaming down her cheeks. “Then he laughed, Nate. He sat in that dirty ass sofa that he’s always on and just laughed. Like it was fucking funny.”

  I look at her seething, wishing my father was in front of me so I could beat the shit out of him. He’d thrown things before but never at her. Never at Natalie.

  “I wish he had died in that accident, Nate. I wish he was fucking dead.” She began to sob audibly. The tears running down her face and dripping from her chin. I stood beside her with my hand on her shoulder waiting until her sobs subsided. I thought of all the times I had wished the same thing. The times I wished he would have one drink too many, fall asleep and never wake up.

  “You need to get out of here,” I said.

  She looked up, her eyes filled with hope. I pictured packing her up and leaving that house. Giving her my room in D.C. while I slept on the couch. I wouldn’t be perfect but Phil would understand and I could watch her. I could make sure she was safe. We met eyes and she pleaded with me without words. She wanted me to rescue her but something stopped me from saying the words. Taking her with me would be like taking all of them. It would be like taking what I had waited 18 years to escape.

  “Maybe California isn’t a bad idea.” I backed away from her and shoved my hands in my pockets. “I’m going to take a quick walk. You need me to pick up anything?” I asked avoiding her eyes.

  She shook her head.

  “Okay,” I said heading towards the door. I closed the door as I walked out, hoping my footsteps would drown out the tears I left behind.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The morning after I walked away from Natalie, I left before anyone woke up. My ticket was not until noon but I didn’t want to risk running into her. My train ended up being delayed, so by the time I settled into my seat, it was already close to 2pm. Fortunately, I found an empty row near the rear of the train. I placed my bag on the adjoining window seat, turned on my iPod and closed my eyes, trying to erase the image of Natalie drenched in tears from my mind. Natalie’s cries echoed in the walls of my head, bouncing again and again like a basketball
, the memory pounding hard and heavy. I had nothing to offer her, I told myself again and again, hoping if I kept repeating it, I would be able to teach myself to believe it.

  “Do you mind if I squeeze in here?” I heard a young female voice say above my music about half way through my ride.

  “Not at all.” My eyes were still closed. I was hoping my back turned towards the isle, and my bag on the seat beside me made it clear I wanted to be left alone. I opened my eyes, removed my bag and stood up, letting a petite young woman take the seat.

  “The guy I was sitting next to smelled like vinegar, and he kept asking me where I lived.”

  “Sucks.” I sighed, sitting back down and leaning my head back against the seat. I closed my eyes again turning my music up louder, hoping to quiet my thoughts enough to catch a nap in the time remaining before we reached D.C.

  “So, do you go to Griffin?” she asked, after a few minutes.

  “Yup.” Realizing that I wasn’t going to get any sleep, I opened my eyes and looked at her for the first time. She stared back with wide dark brown eyes and a small smile. She was wearing an oversized gray Griffin sweatshirt and jeans. A small diamond pendant hung from her neck and matching diamonds adorned her earlobes. Her dark hair was braided in long, individual braids and pulled back into a bun.

  She reminded me of one of the Lusko girls.

  The Luskos were a family that lived in our apartment complex for less than a year before buying a house in a better neighborhood. There was a father, who wore loafers and fedoras, a mother with unreasonably white teeth, and two daughters. One was Natalie’s age and the other was a year or so older than me. They walked around with their chins tilted up and wide smiles painted on their faces, like they didn’t see the stained hallways or smell the scent of piss that swam up your nostrils the moment you set foot in the stairwell. Natalie and I would watch them as they came and went from our dusty fifth floor window sure that the spaceship they landed in would be back to get them at any moment. Remembering, I felt myself soften a bit and I turned to face the brown-eyed “Lusko,” taking my headphones out of my ears.

  “What year are you? I’m a freshman.” Her face was beaming with excitement and her obvious lack of motive made me smile.

  “Junior.”

  She nodded and smiled. “What dorm do you live in?”

  “I live off campus. I would ask you but I don’t want you to move again.”

  She look puzzled for a moment then laughed. “You don’t smell like vinegar.”

  “I see… you have to be creepy and smell.”

  She laughed again.

  “You have an adorable laugh,” I said.

  She looked down stifling the beginnings of another smile.

  I smiled to myself. She hadn’t anticipated me flirting with her. Her innocence was appealing and a distraction from the hell I’d dealt with that weekend. I began to wonder just how innocent she was and how much energy I would have to put in to find out.

  “Letts,” she said after a moment. “I live in Letts Hall.”

  “Was that an invitation?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “What do I have to do to get one?”

  She smiled, her eyes lighting up as she gazed out the window as if searching for a way to respond. “Are you looking to buy a futon?” she said looking back at me.

  “What?”

  “Well, I’m looking to sell a futon. So, if you want to purchase one… you have an invitation.”

  We laughed.

  “That’s cold,” I said. She looked relieved.

  “I’m Kerry.”

  “Nate.”

  “Is everything okay, Nate?” she asked after a moment.

  Not a question I get often. Especially from strangers. “What do you mean?”

  “Tell me to shut up if I’m being nosy,” she began. “It’s just that when I was deciding where to sit, it was between you and that old lady two seats up on the right,” she continued, lowering her voice and gesturing towards the front of the bus.

  “Glad you chose me.”

  “Would you stop?”

  “Stop what?”

  “The one-liners… just because I’m a girl and you’re a guy doesn’t mean we can’t have a normal conversation.”

  I laughed.

  “Seriously. I may turn out to be your best friend if you stopped trying to sleep with me.”

  “Whoa! How am I trying to sleep with you?” I chuckled

  “‘Adorable laugh,’ ‘Can I come over?’” She lowered her voice in a horrible imitation of me. “I mean, I’ve known you what?” She looked at her watch. “Ten minutes, dude?”

  “Okay, okay.” I put my hands up in defense. “I’m just trying to get to know you. There’s a difference.”

  She pushed a loose braid behind her ear and smiled.

  “So, why didn’t you sit with the old lady?” I said after a moment. I was feeling a little embarrassed and rethinking my strategy.

  “Well.” She hesitated. “You just looked so sad. I thought the ride would be more interesting if I tried to cheer you up.”

  I looked out the window of the seat opposite us feeling genuinely surprised that she’d noticed what I thought I was so good at hiding. Looking back at her, I gave her a small smile. “Not sad, just tired.” I hoped it would close the topic. I could tell she wanted to press more, but she didn’t. “So, what if I don’t want to be your friend?”

  “Here you go.”

  “Relax.” I smiled. “I’d just rather this ride didn’t end without you knowing I want to get to know you better. In a way that isn’t just as a friend.”

  “Like on my futon?” She looked more surprised than I was that she had said it.

  “Hell yes,” I said laughing. She smiled playing with her braids and looking away. “Too much?”

  “I’m good.” She looked directly into my eyes. It was my turn to feel a little nervous.

  The conductor’s muffled voice boomed through the train. I glanced outside the window and noticed we were nearing our stop. I stood up and grabbed my duffle bag from the overhead compartment. Kerry squeezed out beside me and pulled her small purple suitcase down.

  “I’m sorry if I was prying.” She pulled the handle on her suitcase up.

  “You weren’t.” I held onto a seat next to us as the train moved into a bumpy stop. “But let’s just say you were and now you have to make it up to me.”

  “I’m afraid to ask how I’d do that.”

  I smiled. “Hey… I’m a gentleman.”

  “I bet.” She laughed. “Okay, how would I make it up to you?”

  “Go out with me Friday?”

  She paused, a tickle of anticipation emanating from her honey-colored skin. “Okay.”

  ***

  I skipped class the next day and got high with Phil instead. We sat on the couch passing the bong back and forth watching random TV. Phil was never as comfortable cutting class as I was, but he knew something was wrong the minute I got back from New York and poured myself a shot of Patron. He decided to stay home the next day because he didn’t “feel like going” to class. I knew he just wanted to make sure I was all right.

  “So is it bad?” he asked taking another hit.

  “Is what bad?”

  “Your dad…”

  Not bad enough.

  I shook my head. “He’ll live.”

  “That’s good.” He sank his head back into the couch. “Everybody else good?”

  I could tell he was reluctant to ask, but he knew something was bothering me. He knew very little about my family other than we weren’t close. They never called, and I rarely talked about them.

  I nodded and took another hit. I was trying desperately not to picture my sister scared in that dark room.

  Phil slumped back into the couch. His eyelids heavy. “That Asian girl from upstairs is coming over Friday to watch a movie, so I need you to not be here.”

  “She’s cute.” I got up and pulled a beer from t
he fridge and sat back down beside him. “I won’t. I have a date with a chick I met on the train.”

  “A townie?”

  “Nah, she’s a freshman here.”

  “A freshman? I thought you like your girls with a little more experience.”

  I laughed, remembering Kerry’s wide eyes and baggy sweatshirt. “I could make her my type.”

  “Poor girl.” Phil laughed and reached for another hit.

  ***

  When I arrived at Letts Hall on Friday night to pick Kerry up, she was already sitting on the stairs outside. She was wearing dark denim jeans and a burgundy V-neck sweater. Her long braids were loose and hanging around her shoulders. Her pink lips were painted in a shiny gloss and she clutched a brown and cream wristlet in her palm. As I approached, I watched her as she gazed up at the sky. She had a smile in her eyes, and I wondered what she was thinking. There was a mystery to Kerry that drew me to her but it also scared me to death. She wasn’t anything like what I was used to. I was sure she could say the same thing about me.

  Hearing me approach, Kerry stood up smiling. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “My roommate, Jayna said I should wait for you to knock,” she began with a small laugh. “You know the whole gentlemanly thing.”

  I smiled. “Why didn’t you?”

  “It was such a nice night.”

  I nodded allowing myself to feel the cool end of winter breeze blowing between us.

  “Besides, she seemed just as excited as I was.”

  I laughed. “I can take you both out if you want, but one of you has to pay. I’m a poor college student.”

  “No thanks.” She shook her head. “I like my dates all to myself.” She linked her arm through mine and smiled. I touched her hand as we began to walk towards Phil’s car.

  “Now, I have to be honest,” I said as we got in. She looked at me a little worried. “This is my roommate’s car.” She sighed with exaggerated disappointment. “I don’t want you going back to your roommate bragging about my car only to find out I don’t have one.”