Cruiser

by Dee J. Stone

  Damn, there I go thinking about sleeping with her again. It’d be different from when I sleep with Erica and the others. Pure. Electric.

  I’m smiling in my fantasy. Rey punches me. Says I look stupid. I punch him back.

  Don’t mess with me while I dream about the girl I can never have.

  Chapter Eight

  Lex

  I stash my poms in my gym locker and head outside. Dani’s sitting on the steps leading to the school building. “Thanks for waiting,” I say. “My ride’s sick with the stomach flu.”

  She snatches her bag off the bottom step and throws it over her shoulder. “I’m gonna start a campaign to get you to drive.”

  I laugh lightly, but my insides turn to jelly. She meant it as a joke, but every time someone urges me to drive, I want to find a human-size turtle shell and hide in there until my life gets fixed.

  We climb into her silver convertible and she pulls out of the parking lot. “How was practice?” she asks.

  Shrugging, I say, “It was okay.” I got the choreography right and gave some good suggestions to Coach. But I stared at the gym’s clock, counting down the minutes until freedom. A girl passionate about dance shouldn’t feel that way.

  “So how’s it on the spinal cord specialist front?” she asks as she brakes by a red light.

  Looking out the window, I watch some kids playing soccer in their front yard. I went to the computer lab during lunch today to do some more research, but didn’t find anything different from what I already found last night.

  “You know, becoming a doctor isn’t going to help you get over your guilt for Rosie’s accident.”

  I bite my lip as the memories bounce against my skull, making me dizzy and nauseous. My palm closes over my cheerleader keychain and I squeeze it tight, ignoring the sharp edge of the “c” cutting into my skin.

  “I’m not trying to be heartless here, Lex. Don’t throw your dreams away because of Rosie.”

  I shake my head, still staring out the window so she won’t see the tears gathering in my eyes. “It’s every girl’s dream to be a dancer, Dani. Just a dream. But in reality, there are more important things out there, like helping kids like Rosie.”

  “It’s not a dream for you—it’s a reality. I heard about the scholarship.”

  A tear seeps out of my eye and runs down my cheek. I brush it away. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  We sit in silence for a little while. Dani’s eyes are on the road while I battle tears. Finally, when she stops at another red light, she says, “How’re things with Rey?”

  I really don’t want to talk about that, either, but if Dani knows that she’ll be up in my face about me and Cruiser. So I say, “Things are great.”

  There’s no hiding anything from her, though. “How’s his brother?”

  I don’t answer.

  “So things are still rainbows and fluffy bunnies with Rey, then?”

  “I wish you’d get off my back.”

  “I wish you’d stop running from your problems.”

  I grab a tissue from the box on the dashboard and swipe at my eyes. “I can’t deal with any of this, Dani. I just…” I take a deep breath and let it out. “I’m so sick of trying to be strong all the time.”

  Dani parks the car on the side of the road and kills the engine. She’s not affectionate, so resting her hand on my arm is equivalent to giving me a hug. “No one’s asking you to be strong. I just wish you’d confront your feelings out in the open instead of having to hold everything in.”

  I pull away. “Says the girl who won’t let anyone in after her whole Jimmy fiasco.” Yanking the door open, I say, “I’ll walk from here. Thanks for the ride.”

  “Lex, please don’t run. You’re right about Jimmy, but you’re much braver than I am.”

  I close the door and head home. It’s a beautiful day today, warm with just a soft breeze. Trying hard not to think about anything, I hum the last tune I heard on the radio in Dani’s car until I reach my house and go inside.

  Mom’s on the phone when I enter the kitchen, talking to Dr. Griffin, probably. Her finger twirls around the chord and her face goes from hope to defeat. “Are you sure there’s nothing more we can do? Don’t give up on her. Please.”

  So much for Dr. Griffin being the miracle doctor.

  I wish I could talk to her about my decision to give up dance for medical school. But I know I won’t get through to her. Mom has only one goal on her mind, and that’s to get Rosie walking again. Dad’s at work and will be dead tired when he gets home. This is just another thing I’ll have to figure out on my own.

  I turn into the living room, where Rosie sits with her laptop and the TV turned to Disney. She greets me and I return it, taking a seat near her and throwing an arm over her shoulder. “How’s everything?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “Same.”

  Books and homework are on the couch, plus many computer game discs. “Hey, should I ask the kids across the street to come play with you?” I say.

  Her grip on the mouse tightens and she throws me an annoyed look. “I told you a million times that I don’t want to play with the neighbors.” She brightens up. “But do you want to play a game I found online? It’s cool, and we both can play. But it’s only a trial, so we have an hour.”

  I can’t just sit back and watch my little sister waste away at home and only play games with me. I wish she would let her old friends come over, and that she wouldn’t be so scared to let them accept the new Rosie.

  Glancing back at Mom, I find her still on the phone, discussing some new possible programs with Dr. Griffin. Rosie’s looking at me with big, green eyes. “Okay,” I say, defeated. “Let’s play.”

  Chapter Nine

  Cruiser

  Rey’s on the living room couch when I walk into the house after school. Body’s hunched over his laptop on the coffee table. Left foot’s twitching. Snacks and soda cans are scattered around. He’s always been like this before a big performance.

  “Sup,” I say. “Left school early to get ready for the ‘cital?”

  He nods, eyes glued to the computer screen. I head over to him and take a peek. Twin boys and a woman. Rey and me. Eight years old, at one of our first recitals. Dressed in white shirts and black slacks. We look almost identical. Mom’s kissing us over and over like we’re the air she breathes.

  “Old home videos?” I ask.

  Rey finally looks up and stretches his arms. “Thought they’d give me some, you know, encouragement.”

  “You don’t need encouragement, bro. You’ll do fine.”

  He doesn’t say anything. I look back at the video. Mom’s fawning over us like we’re new cars being showcased. Praising us on how well we performed. We’ve got identical wide smiles on our faces. Funny, there was actually a moment in my life when I was happy.

  Screw that. I’m about to head to the stairs, but voices and laughter stop me. My eyes shoot to the laptop. Rey, Lex, and me. Waving at the camera and smiling. Lex is between us, in a green dress. Black, wavy hair in pigtails.

  “Hiiiii!” all three of us yell.

  “Lexi,” Mom says from behind the camera. “Did you enjoy the recital?”

  Lex giggles. “No. It was boring.” She punches my arm. Then Rey’s. “Except when my best friends played.”

  My eight year old self beams at her. I don’t remember any of this. Never watched these videos. Don’t need to be reminded of what a failure I’ve become.

  “I didn’t know we had this, bro,” I say, plopping down near him.

  “You don’t remember how we used to take videos of ourselves after our recitals?” He laughs. “Lex loved to be in the center. Always stealing the show.”

  Yeah. That’s true. She made me feel better after each time I fucked up my piece. She made me want to try harder.

  I focus on the eight year olds. We’re in my house now. Rey’s behind the camera and I’m chasing Lex around. She’s giggling and screeching because she knows I’m goi
ng to tackle her to the floor and tickle her.

  “Elvis!” Rey complains. “Take the camera.”

  “No.”

  “Lexi!”

  She doesn’t answer him. Just continues running around the dining room table. “No fair,” Rey whines. I’ve caught up to Lex. My hands dig into her stomach and she wiggles from underneath me.

  “Elvis! Take it!”

  We’re not listening to him. We’re having our own fun. Mom yells from the next room to not get our clothes dirty. We ignore her, too.

  “Okay, okay. You win.” Lex pushes me away and starts dancing. I join her. My shirt’s spilling over the top of my pants. I don’t seem to give a damn. The camera bobs up and down as Rey copies us.

  Makes me dizzy watching.

  “I don’t wanna dance,” eight-year-old Rey complains as he stops jumping. “Why do we never do what I wanna do?”

  My bro can’t dance as well as Lex and me. Too uncoordinated. We could go on for hours and hours. And we did. It was always a competition with Lex. Who would be the last dancer standing? Who had the coolest moves? She won that time. Only because I let her. Loved seeing those big eyes get small and that smile widen.

  “Stupid!” The camera’s thrown to the floor. Rey stomps away. All I see is the steps leading upstairs. Lex and my laughter are loud and strong.

  My head’s almost banging into the computer screen. Rey clears his throat and fast forwards to the next recital. Yeah, good idea. I sit back. “Any scouts gonna be there tonight?”

  “Yeah.”

  He sounds nervous. I thump his back again. “You’re gonna do great. You practiced and practiced until your fingers bled.” I pause. “You’re gonna have the parents with you. You got Lex. She coming?”

  “Yeah. She’s never missed any of my recitals.”

  Or mine. She used to cheer me on, more so than Rey. Shit. What does it matter now?

  I get to my feet and make my way to the door. Need to surf to get rid of this feeling. “See ya tonight, Rey.”

  Chapter Ten

  Lex

  Beethoven’s Appassionata dances in my head as I head over to the Dalton house. At last night’s recital, the music from Rey’s violin invaded every organ in my body, every blood vessel, every cell, until I practically soared up to heaven. Listening to him play is better than surrendering myself to a box of milk chocolate.

  Mrs. Dalton opens the door and smiles. “Lex.” She hugs me. “Good morning, sweetie. How are you? How’s the family?”

  I tell her everything’s great, that Rosie’s doing great. It’s what everyone wants to hear, even though it’s far from the truth. Mrs. Dalton opens her mouth to say more, then clamps it shut and nods, giving me that pity smile. It’s been over a year, but her expression’s always the same.

  I force a smile and climb the stairs to Rey’s room. I stop a few feet away when I notice the door’s closed. That’s a little odd since Rey’s usually up by 9:30 on a Saturday morning, and it’s 10:30 now. Is he still sleeping?

  I rap my knuckles against the door and twist the knob. It’s locked.

  “Something wrong?”

  Cruiser waves at me from the adjacent room. He’s lounging in his chair, earbuds lodged in his ears, his thumbs tapping on the buttons of his Xbox controller.

  He’s not wearing a shirt.

  I swallow as my eyes rove around his muscled chest. He’s gotten so tan since he started surfing again. I force my eyes away. “Um…” My hand reaches for the cool, brass knob. “Is um…” I want to smack the side of my head. “Is Rey still sleeping?”

  He pulls the earbuds out and gets to his feet. I stare at the floor as he walks out of his room, but my disobedient eyes take control over me. His body heat jumps onto my skin.

  He tries the knob, as if it will magically yield to his hand. “Hmm. Ain’t like him to sleep in. Might be bummed about last night.”

  “Bummed? What do you mean? He did great.”

  “Not according to him. He screwed up a couple of notes in the beginning and middle of the piece.” He shrugs. “Not that I noticed.” He leans back on the wall and pushes some stray hair off his forehead. His eyes are on mine, until they start to move a little lower, and a little more. I have an urge to fan myself with my hand.

  Stepping back, I clear my throat. “I’m supposed to take him out for breakfast. I’m surprised he forgot. I mentioned it to him a few times this week.” I run my hand through my hair, then drop it to my side when I realize it’s trembling. “Should I, um, try his cell?”

  “Nah, I’ll get him up. Go chill in my room for a minute while I get the spare key to his room.”

  My hand jumps to my hair again and gets tangled between the strands. “Um…okay.”

  I get cold the second Cruiser heads down the hall. Sucking in a few gulps of air and releasing them just as strongly, I step into Cruiser’s room.

  I haven’t been in here for over a year. It hasn’t changed much, except for the dirty clothing on the floor, the flashy posters of half-naked girls plastered on the walls, the stack of music and video games lining his desk, and the odor of a week-old pizza.

  Then I see it—his cruiser ship, smack in the middle of the room. I step closer to the wooden table and run my hand along the glass case. Perched on a copper metal stand, the ship has a washed gray hull with a red base. Lifeboats and lifesavers, missiles, and small lights scatter the deck, along with other military things I know nothing about. Hanging off the center pole are satellites and an American flag.

  My lips twitch into a smile. This ship is Cruiser’s prized possession. He kept it all these years, in the same spot. Someone could knock it over if he doesn’t watch where he’s going. Cruiser’s mom threatened to throw it away if he didn’t find a more suitable place. But Cruiser didn’t budge.

  Something warm invades my heart. The feeling gets bigger and bigger and I’m scared my heart will explode. I touch the side of the case. The memory comes so clear it’s like it just happened an hour ago.

  Elvis and Reagan’s tenth birthday. The house was covered with party decorations, the dining room filled with children’s chatter, and the Hokey Pokey played in the background. The twins sat at the head of the table, and it was no question where their best friend sat: right between the birthday boys. Elvis smiled and told me how excited he was to open my present. I gave him the biggest grin I could, but got scared. I only bought the boys super soaker guns, and realized I should have thought long and hard to get them something special.

  But my worries went away when Mrs. Dalton carried in the cake and the kids started singing “Happy Birthday.” Fifteen minutes later, cake half eaten, it was time for the twins to open their presents.

  “I want to open Lexi’s first!” Elvis announced. I dug my present out of the pile on the nearby table and handed the box to him. He unwrapped it so fast, like someone zapped him with super speed. His eyes shone when he pulled out two blue super soaker water guns. I lowered my head.

  “Thanks, Lexi!” His smile couldn’t be any wider.

  I wished I got him something special.

  The twins received a lot of nice gifts, but when their grandparents stood before them with two large boxes wrapped in shiny silver and gold paper, everyone’s eyes widened to the size of basketballs. Rey grabbed the present from his grandmother and tore off the wrapping.

  “A toy boat,” he mumbled before throwing it onto the table.

  Elvis tore his gold paper and produced another toy boat.

  “That’s not a toy, Reagan,” their grandfather said, carefully taking the model in his hand and holding it out to the younger twin. “This is a Navy destroyer ship.” Rey took the ship and studied it, a frown on his face. “You have a Navy cruiser ship, Elvis. Both destroyers and cruisers help the U.S Navy fight enemy ships, submarines, and aircraft by shooting missiles and torpedoes.” He sat down near them and started to go over the history of destroyers and cruisers and what roles they played throughout all the wars. Rey dropped his ship onto th
e table during the story and got busy with his other presents, but Elvis listened to his grandfather with his eyes and mouth wide.

  From that day and on, Cruiser became obsessed with the Navy and demanded everyone call him Cruiser instead of Elvis. We all agreed at first, his parents giving in to their son’s phase that they thought would blow over. But after a while, the name Cruiser just stuck, and Rey and I couldn’t go back to calling him Elvis, which I always secretly thought was a silly name.

  When Cruiser was fourteen and told me he wanted to join the Navy, I was excited and upset. Excited that he was really passionate about the Navy, but upset and sad that I may never see him again if he were at sea.

  I guess it doesn’t matter now.

  The floor creaks from behind me, and I whirl around. Cruiser stands at the door, his gaze on my hand that’s still clutching the glass case. I step away from the table. He stares at me. I wrap my arms over my upper body.

  “So…is he awake?” I ask.

  He walks over to the glass case and looks down at his ship. “Yeah. He was wiped out. No worries, I got him up for you.”

  “Oh…you didn’t have to. I mean, I should have let him sleep and schedule our breakfast date another time. I mean, it’s not like we have reservations or anything. I mean—” I shut my mouth before I continue babbling like an idiot.

  Cruiser doesn’t say anything.

  I shift from one foot to the other. “I’m going to wait outside for him. Tell him when he comes out, please.”

  “No problem,” he mutters as I head out the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cruiser

  I cut the engine and wheel my bike into the garage. Probably wasn’t the smartest idea to go for a ride in the rain. But I needed to. Needed to get away from everything, from her. Just couldn’t…couldn’t take her—

  I yank off my helmet. “Cruuuuuiser. What will you do if I break the box and steal your little bo-oat?”