Cruiser

by Dee J. Stone

  “Nothing?” she asks.

  “No.”

  Dorothy turns to my mom. “How can you let this happen? Not involved in any school activities? What college is going to accept him?” She looks at Dad. “I told you, you need a firm hand on the boy. He needs discipline. Sending him to New York? How did you think that would help? Send him to Cayton Hill, that program for troubled boys. They’ll straighten him out.”

  Yeah, treat me like wallpaper.

  “We’re not sending Elvis to Cayton’s, Mom,” Dad says so low like he’s scared she’ll chop his head off.

  “He’s still a walking disaster,” she mutters. “Maybe worse.”

  Yeah, I’m not deaf. I slam my bowl in the sink and march out the door. Collapse on the living room couch.

  I miss Gran and Gramps. So much I get this ache in my gut. I’ve always loved them as a kid, but never got the chance to spend enough time with them since they lived in New York. They showered Rey and me with gifts when they visited. Took us to the park and the zoo when we spent a summer there. Let us stay up late watching scary movies. Gran baked her famous oatmeal cookies. Just for us.

  Gramps was a retired Navy captain. Kept our minds filled with his adventures at sea. Rey told me that Gramps made up some of the stories when we were kids because sea monsters don’t exist. It didn’t matter to me, though, because Gramps and I had a connection. The Navy didn’t interest my brother as much as it interested me.

  When I stayed there last year, Gramps and I talked for hours and hours about the Navy. About the ships, his experiences, what it’s like to be a sailor. He gave me his old uniforms. I almost brought them back with me, but I knew Mom would give me shit. “Dad, stop filling Elvis’s head with all those stories.” The woman can’t get over growing up without her dad being there for her. As if anyone would miss me if I joined the Navy.

  “Hey, Cruise.” Rey sits down near me on the couch. “Tough breakfast, huh?”

  I shrug. Prop my feet on the coffee table, knocking down some lame-ass finance magazines.

  “Come fishing with us today, man. Show them you’re not as bad as they think. That you’ve changed.”

  “Not going, bro. Have fun without me.”

  He doesn’t say anything. Just leans back on the couch and stares at the blank TV screen. I can hear them talking in the kitchen. Not about me. Grandpa is complaining about retirement or some shit.

  I should leave. Should have left the moment I had a chance. Only reason I didn’t was because I thought they’d finally accept me for who I am. But that’s too much to ask. I’ve got disappointment written all over me.

  I’m about to get up, but Rey says, “I miss fishing with you, Cruise. Man, we had great times years ago. Me, you, dad, and Grandpa fishing together every month. It’ll be fun if you come with us.”

  I sink back down. “No, Rey. Fishing ain’t for me. Never liked it much.” I fold my arms over my chest. “I know you love it, love to spend time with the old man and his old man. We’ll hang out when you come back.”

  “Okay, if that’s what you want. You going to meet up with Erica?”

  “Nah, she ain’t in town for a few days. Gonna hit the beach.”

  He thumps my back. “See you soon. Have fun.”

  “Right back at ya, bro.”

  I get to the door and slam it after me. Hop onto my bike and ride to the beach. Can’t take this anymore. When I was a kid I thought my parents and grandparents treated me like I was defective. Like the first twin didn’t come out of the womb the way they wanted, so they embraced the second twin with open arms. Rey loved all the attention he got from them. Not that I blame him. I was just in the way. Always in the way. “Reagan excels at school,” they would say. “He’s a prodigy at the violin.” “And what about his brother?” others would ask. “Elvis…well…”

  Yeah. Elvis…well. That should be my nickname.

  It’s a wonder Rey and I get along. I never resented him when we were kids. I know I wanted to. I remember telling Lex how jealous I was of him, how I wished he just wasn’t so damn good at everything. Lex told me she understood if I hated him. I told her I didn’t. There’s only one reason for that. Rey didn’t see me as a disappointment. He didn’t care that I wasn’t good at the violin like he was, or that I was crap at school. To him, I was Cruiser, his brother. His cool brother. He looked up to me. Still does. He understood that I was my own self, that I didn’t have to be anyone to be someone.

  Just like Lex understood.

  I park my bike and sit down on the sand. Stare at the ocean. Feel the wind blowing against my hair and taste the salt on my lips. I used to do this a lot as a kid—sit on the beach and think about my future. At one point I wanted to be a fireman, just as every boy dreams. I imagined running into burning buildings and saving people. My parents would see me on TV and be proud of their son, the hero. I thought about that every time I brought home a bad grade and got a grilling from them. “Another C-, Elvis? You are learning the same material as your brother. There is no reason for him to do well and not you. You are not applying yourself as much as he is.”

  I used to try. Really hard. Rey knows I did. He studied with me a bit, but after a while he got so frustrated he couldn’t take it. Not saying I’m a dumbass or anything, but school never seemed important to me. Seemed like too much of a headache for something I cared nothing about.

  Some kid left his plastic shovel on the ground. I use it to dig a hole in the sand. Don’t know what I want out of life. Definitely not to be a fireman. Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Maybe I’ll be a Navy captain. Have some medals. Be a hero. Rey would be proud. And my parents? Fuck them.

  I shake my head. Am I always going to be as pathetic as this?

  The hole I dug must be a foot deep. Wish it were big enough to bury myself in.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lex

  I quickly close the door to the guidance counselor’s office behind me, like maybe the words said in that room will stay trapped and not follow me out. Then I head to my locker and lean against it, taking a deep breath and letting it out. Why couldn’t she just tell me what to do?

  “Missed you at the caf.” Dani leans near me and crosses her arms over her chest.

  “I was at Ms. Carter’s,” I mumble. Why did I think seeing her would be a good idea? Guidance counselors are supposed to “guide” you to the right decision, not give some useless BS and then let it fall on your shoulders. Apparently, it’s up to the teenager to make one of the most important decisions in her life all on her own. “But speak to your parents, Lex. They’ll help you figure things out.” Right, sure.

  “Yeah, I saw you leave her office,” Dani says. “Everything cool?”

  “I went to speak to her about next semester’s electives.”

  “What did she say?”

  I push off my locker and open it, searching for my poli-sci book.

  “Lex?” Dani says.

  I close my eyes. “She thinks I should stick with dance,” I say, then snap them open. Dani’s watching me, expression thoughtful. “I asked her if it was possible for me to switch out some of my art and dance electives for more, um, pre-medish type courses.”

  She nods slowly, her expression still the same.

  I continue, “She said that in her professional opinion, she believes it’s in my best interest to pursue dance because I have such a bright future. Then she started going on about the scholarship, how it’s between me and Holly Bedford, and I have such a good shot and do I really want to make such a drastic change before thinking things through and discussing it with my parents? But then she said it’s up to me to make that decision because only I know what’s best for me. Isn’t that ridiculous?”

  “She’s right. Only you can make that decision.”

  I rub my forehead. “Why can’t someone just tell me what to do? What the best decision is for me? I’m only sixteen!”

  “We’re all going through this, Lex. And things will get even more intense nex
t year when we apply to college.”

  I know others are going through crap, too. But that doesn’t make this any easier. I can’t stand this stress. Maybe it’s time I look for a psychic, let her lay her cards on the table and tell me what’s in my future.

  I just want someone on my side. Someone who would understand me and not tell me to stick with dance because I have “so much talent” and “such a bright future.”

  “You already know what I think, Lex, so I won’t repeat it, but I agree with Ms. Carter that only you can make that decision. Think long and hard, do your research, see if you really want to go to med school. Go to dance practice and meets and see if your heart’s into it.”

  Which brings me back to square one yet again. “You know what she said?” I roll my eyes. “She asked me if I wanted to start seeing her again.”

  Ms. Carter was really helpful last year when I went to see her once a week. Warm and caring, like she really wanted to help me. But to see her again? Like I’m still the same screwed up girl I once was?

  “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” Dani says. “And I’m not talking about the accident and Rosie and your parents. I’m talking about all that other stuff going on. Like your feelings for Rey and Cruiser.”

  I gape at her. Is she serious? “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  She shrugs.

  “You want me to tell the school guidance counselor something so personal? About students who go to our school?”

  She tightens her arms over her chest. “Maybe you need to talk to someone about it.”

  “Look, I don’t need to talk to some stranger about my love life. I have my best friend right here.” I wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her close. “And she’s the best friend anyone can ask for.”

  Dani mumbles, “Whatever” under her breath.

  “Hey, ever heard of practice what you preach?” I say. “When was the last time you spoke to anyone about what you went through last summer with Jimmy the Jackass? I’m guessing never.”

  Dani throws my arm off her shoulder, her eyes flashing with fury and pain, and she opens her mouth to say something. But her eyes dart down the hall. “Your boyfriend is headed this way.” And she marches to Spanish.

  “Hey!” Rey closes his hands over my eyes. “Guess who?”

  Things have been looking up for us these past few days, ever since Rey’s recital. I’m so relieved.

  I laugh and pull his hands off my eyes. “Nice try. Dani gave me the heads up.”

  He laughs too, then rests his right shoulder against the lockers, facing me. “Where were you during lunch break? I was looking all over for you.”

  I swallow. For just the shortest second, my discussion with Ms. Carter fled away with Dani. Now it’s back, and at full force. My shoulders sag a little. “I had to take care of something.”

  “Everything okay?”

  Why does everyone ask me that? “Yeah, sure.” I force a smile onto my face.

  “Cool. Hey, guess what?”

  The smile is still forced. “What?”

  “I caught a fish for you.”

  I softly punch his shoulder. “You know I don’t like fish.” I rake my hands through his hair—well, it’s more like a brush because he doesn’t have much hair. I wish I could kiss him right now to get rid of this doomed feeling, but we’re standing right in the middle of the hallway.

  “I know.” He smiles and fingers my bottom lip. “But you’d love the fish if I cook it. I’ve been tackling the stove for a while now. It’s pretty cool. I know how to fillet a fish, sauté some veal, puree a butter squash soup. I’d cook for you anytime.”

  Just as I’m about to tell him how cute he is when he’s excited, Cruiser strolls down the hallway, stops by his locker a few feet away, and dumps his schoolbag and leather jacket inside. I bite my lower lip. This is the first time seeing him since our encounter two days ago. He looks…I don’t even know how to describe it. He’s actually alone right now, not flirting with a girl. It makes him look so…so…

  Lonely.

  Lonely and vulnerable. Why does it make my heart constrict, seeing him standing by his locker alone, staring at the space in front of him like he’s in deep thought? Like he’s sad. Sad that there is no girl flirting with him, or is it something else?

  “It was still at first,” Rey is in middle of saying. “My grandfather said the fish must have partied the whole night and were sleeping.” He laughs. “But then I caught a mackerel and...”

  I don’t mean to, but my attention keeps floating to Cruiser standing so alone at his locker. I’m so selfish and a horrible girlfriend, but I can’t help it.

  Suddenly, Cruiser turns around and stares at me. I jerk, but my gaze stays on him—I don’t know why. This is the first time we’re seeing each other face to face since our altercation at my house. I don’t know what to think, what to feel.

  He turns back around, back to being lonely. It reminds me of when we were kids and Cruiser was lonely, when he felt left out at home, or when he cried to me that he had no friends at school because everyone loved Rey more than him.

  “Lex?”

  I’m yanked back to the present, to the reality.

  “Can I come over tonight?” I ask Rey.

  “I need to practice the violin for my next recital,” he says.

  Another recital? I thought we’d have more time to spend together once his last recital was over. I want to support him, but he and I have been having better communication since his schedule emptied out. With another recital, I don’t know how much time we’ll have to spend together. Which means we might fall down that path again.

  “But maybe you can sit with me while I practice?” Rey says. “My parents won’t be home ‘til midnight and Cruiser will probably be out ‘til much later.”

  I smile. “Okay.” I take one more glance at Cruiser. A girl is now at his locker, giggling and squeezing his bicep, marveling at it.

  “Cool,” Rey says. “See you in class.” He touches his fingers to his lips and presses them to mine. Then he disappears into political science, leaving me out here alone. I watch the way Cruiser grins at the girl. No more vulnerability. No more loneliness.

  I close my locker and head to class.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cruiser

  When Rey walks into my room a few hours after school, I’m wetter than a dog that jumped into a lake. I must have hit the weights a little too hard. He tosses me a towel.

  “Sup, man?” I wipe my face.

  “Dude, we checked out a jail today. Was pretty neat.”

  Rey’s part of the law club. They do shit like that.

  “Next week we’re visiting a courthouse!”

  Sometimes I wonder if we’re two unrelated people who happen to look alike.

  “Glad you had fun.” I toss the towel somewhere, then get into the shower. Spread out my arms. Feel the cool water beat against my skin. One thing that sucks about taking a shower is that I’m alone. It’s when the thoughts I battle every day cloud around and taunt me.

  I turn off the shower and wrap a towel around my waist. Rey’s lifting one of my dumbbells when I step out of the bathroom. Cheeks puffed, eyes bulging like his brain’s about to fire out his nose.

  I take it and place it on the floor. “Stay away from the weights, like I stay away from the books.”

  He laughs, plopping down on my bed. “Speaking of school, I heard about Sandra.”

  “Sandra?”

  Oh. That freshie girl who was all over me at lunch today.

  “Well, you gonna get with her? Dude, she’s hot. Real hot.”

  “Real young. She’s a freshman.”

  “Yeah?” He lifts his eyebrows.

  “Nah. I don’t go for that. What is she? Fourteen? Man, I got morals. Maybe not loads. But I got some.” I open my drawer, rummage around for some jeans, and pull them on.

  Rey laughs again. Yeah, I guess in a twisted way I’m not all that bad. I sit down in my swivel chair. “Game?”<
br />
  “ELVIS!”

  I freeze. Damn, Mom sounds as mad as the time I took a baseball bat and cracked all her expensive china. Accidentally, of course.

  Stomping up the stairs. Heavy footsteps coming down the hall. We look at each other. Geez, what did I do this time? Rey’s eyes ask me the same thing.

  She’s at the door. Mom in her full rage-possessed glory. She thrusts out her palm. A joint sits there. She holds it like it’s poisoning her skin. Her gaze bites my face. “Can you explain this, Elvis?”

  Shit. Where the hell did that come from? I stopped smoking once I stepped foot in New York.

  Rey.

  I look at him. His face is whiter than my bed sheet, and he’s gripping the edge of my pillow so tight the feathers will burst out any second. Sweat shines on his forehead. He stares at the opposite wall like he’s waiting for an anvil to hit him on the head.

  “Yeah, it’s mine,” I say.

  Rey’s eyes widen. He’s swallowing like a golf ball’s stuck in his throat. The pillow is seconds away from total destruction.

  Mom marches into the room. Stands near me—over me like I’m a serial killer about to get interrogated by the cops. “Are you doing drugs again, Elvis?”

  Damn. Did I flinch?

  “Answer me, Elvis Dalton. Are you doing drugs again?”

  “It’s just pot,” I mumble.

  Her eyes burst with fury. “Just pot? We don’t do drugs in my house, Elvis Dalton. I will not see you down this road again. Did you change anything while you were away?”

  I look out my window. Need to focus on something. Anything but Mom’s voice. It’s pounding on my skull. Gets louder as her voice raises an octave. She says she has no idea what to do to with me. Maybe she should listen to Grandma Dorothy and send me to Cayton’s. Let someone else deal with me. She thought a change of scenery would be good for me. Thought being away from all the pain of the accident would fix me. But I’m back to my old ways. Not working hard in school. Hopping from one girl to the next. Now it’s pot again, and soon I’ll be a drug addict or a drug dealer. And then she’ll find herself bailing me out of jail.