My Best Friend's Brother

by Chrissy Fanslau

  Jake punched, but missed. In one swift move, Luke caught his collar, swung him around and released, sending Jake flying into the locker directly across from mine.

  I was stunned. Even the girls across the hall were impressed—they literally gasped. My boyfriend’s got skill.

  Luke backed away. I approached him. But Tom and Tristan shoved me aside. My face hit the locker and my nose started to bleed.

  I burst into tears.

  “Fight!” someone screamed, and people flooded the hall. They poured in from outside, in classrooms, and in the connecting halls. “Fight! Fight!” guys chanted and gathered around them in a circle. They each rooted for someone, and I could barely think through all the noise.

  I struggled to see beyond layers of people and a bad contact. Unfortunately, rubbing my eyes didn’t fix the problem, it just aggravated it. I pushed my way past everyone. Surprisingly, I had no problem getting through.

  Jake sat where he’d landed. His head had put a dent in the locker. Blood flowed from his broken nose, streaming down his hand, arm and shirt. I sneered. What a loser! Starting something and sitting around, letting his jock friend finish the job!

  Tom’s shorter than Luke, so Luke easily tossed him off. But Tristan’s a different story. Tristan kicked him, grabbed him and slammed him around.

  And all I could do was watch in horror.

  Luke threw a punch, hitting Tristan square in the jaw. Tristan looked stunned as his mouth bled—had he lost a tooth?

  In a fury, Tristan got Luke in a headlock.

  Luke’s face darkened by the second, and was soon deep red. The crowd grew wild.

  My breaths stopped. I searched desperately for anyone who could help. No one did anything but cheer.

  Tweezer shoved past me, screaming. When he tried to break Tristan’s grasp, Tristan turned on him.

  In an instant Tweezer screamed, blocking Tristan’s punches with his monstrous arms. And he coaches the wrestling team?

  “He’s not allowed to fight back!” some kid screamed, and a bunch of guys tore Tristan away from him.

  Seriously, they couldn’t do that for my boyfriend as well?

  I gripped Luke’s arm and pulled him into the crowd, toward my locker. Luke’s face was still red, his nose was bloody, and his ear was oozing. I heard Dr. Lang and a few teachers screaming within seconds.

  I hugged Luke tight. “Oh my God, I was so scared,” I cried.

  Luke’s arms squeezed me. He kissed the top of my head. His chest still heaved. “It’s okay.”

  The cops were there within minutes, and people began to scatter like roaches. Tristan was arrested, and Dr. Lang began questioning whomever he could find. Hitting a teacher is serious business.

  “Jake slammed me into the locker and hurt her, I was just defending us,” Luke held tissues under his nose.

  Dr. Lang looked up at Luke. “You hit back, so you are partially to blame,” he said in his annoying nasal voice.

  “Are you kidding me?” Luke howled.

  “But,” Dr. Lang continued, “since this won’t happen again, you’ll get a fair punishment for not starting the fight.” He pointed to the guidance office at the end of the hall. “Lucky you had a witness, huh?” Dr. Lang raised his bushy gray eyebrows and scratched his bald head. Dr. Lang’s even shorter than my dad—it’s a good thing he didn’t jump into the fight.

  Luke looked at me, sighed, and wiped his nose again. The bleeding slowed. He didn’t comment, though his face grew red again. I didn’t see how he was to blame for anything. I told them what happened, but it changed nothing.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathed.

  Luke shook his head. ”Don’t be.”

  Paramedics checked my head and asked if I wanted to go to the hospital for x-rays. I said no, but they said they had to check with my parents. They had to, something about liability.

  Apart from the rumor that Tristan was spending the night in jail, I heard during third period he also got expelled. Jake and Tom each got a one week out-of-school suspension.

  Some punishment—they start a fight and get a vacation!

  Luke got three days in-school suspension effective immediately, and ten stitches on his right ear; though I heard all of them got stitches of some sort.

  In creative writing we had a sub, since poor Tweezer got beat in the head. He’s a big guy, so I knew he’d be okay.

  I didn’t feel like writing, so I put my head down. The sub didn’t say anything to me.

  I know he can be a total jerk sometimes but I couldn’t believe Jake was bad enough to plot this! It blew my mind.

  And I felt bad for Luke, because it was my fault.

  ~ ~ ~

  The paramedics called Dad. I’m sure Dad hates Luke even more now.

  Mom picked me up after school, but I didn’t care to talk to her about it, or to Dad, or even to Sullivan, who actually had the decency to ask what happened only once and handle getting turned away.

  I barricaded myself in my room. My cell phone rang, but I didn’t answer it. Because, then at least, I didn’t have the voice to talk.

  Later I tried Luke’s cell, but he didn’t answer.

  I watched Titanic on my laptop. Not only did I not touch my homework, but I didn’t get the door when Dad knocked. I didn’t need to hear how disappointed he was, or how bad of an influence he thinks Luke is. Luke. The sweetest guy I know. The guy I love so much it hurts.

  The image of Luke being chocked would not leave my head. It made my heart race. It made me sick.

  I fell asleep before the ship sank. But that’s okay. Because I didn’t want to see Jack die. Especially when that jerky ex wanted him dead to begin with.

  XI

  A tap on my door awoke me at noon. This was one of the few times Dad actually entered when I didn’t answer.

  “Adonia, may I come in?”

  Why ask after doing it?

  My room was dark. I moved the laptop off my bed to make room for him. He sat. I pulled the blanket around myself, cold and miserable.

  Dad rested a hand on my shoulder. “No school today?”

  That was a given.

  “What happened yesterday?” Dad asked.

  “Does it matter? I’m just gonna get punished and you’re just gonna hate Luke.”

  “Adonia, I don’t hate Luke.”

  “Dad, you totally hate Luke!”

  He looked away for a moment. When our eyes met again, he said, “I hated Jake at first, too.”

  “I can see why. I hate Jake now.”

  Dad chuckled. Then he grew serious. “Look, I just want to know what happened. I’m not going to punish you. We’re worried. Mom and I need to be sure you’re okay.”

  “I didn’t do anything. Neither did Luke. Jake attacked him. Then Jake’s friends attacked him.” Dad listened quietly. “They choked him and hit him and he fought back. Punishing him for defending himself is just crap.”

  Dad sighed. “Well, fighting is not always the best option.”

  I wondered why my dad was so passive. I wondered aloud.

  “I’m not being passive, Adonia. You saw how it got him in trouble.”

  I scowled, breathing hard. “He fought because he had to, just like he’s trying to be a professional skier because he has to. Why do you have a problem with everything Luke does?”

  “I don’t,” Dad uttered. “I’m just looking out for you, that’s all.” He got up and walked to the door. “I’m staying out of it this time. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. How’s your head?”

  I shrugged. It was just a tiny bruise and it only hurt if I pushed on it. It didn’t even bleed like I initially thought, not sure what I felt. Dad always made a big deal out of everything.

  “Well, rest for as long as you need to. Just try and make it to school tomorrow. And for God’s sake, eat something. There’s lasagna downstairs.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  He walked out, leaving the door wide open.

  I went back to sleep. I didn�
�t want to eat. If I couldn’t be with Luke in person, I was going to be with him in my dreams.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dad knocked again at 4:05. So I woke up again, and the look I gave him was not the nicest.

  “Luke’s here,” Dad said, and stepped aside.

  Luke was beside him, somber.

  “I’ll give you a few minutes to change. Then you can let him in.” Dad nodded and shut the door before I could thank him. I felt kind of bad about my behavior earlier.

  I threw on black jeans and a tight tee shirt, I inserted new contacts, brushed my teeth, did a really crappy make-up job—not like he didn’t get a glimpse of me anyway—opened the door and invited him in. I didn’t shut it because Dad is not that forgiving.

  Besides, after a while Dad was walking by my room every two minutes anyway.

  Luke sat on my beanbag. I spread myself out on my bed, lying on my stomach, my arms crossed and resting between the comforter and my chin. We faced each other. “I guess it’s safe to assume you weren’t in school today,” he whispered. “Is your head okay?”

  “Yeah. How’s your ear?”

  He turned his head for me to see. The stitches were behind it. There was a long, thin bruise on his hairline on the right side of his head, where he was kicked and elbowed. “Earache still isn’t gone, but aside from that I don’t have any broken bones. My stepdad insisted on taking me to the hospital after school for x-rays.” He sighed.

  “I’m down to just one more day of prison,” he joked, the left corner of his mouth lifting. “I guess I’m supposed to be thankful for my ‘light’ punishment. I have a teacher babysitting me, holding my hand every time I take a piss, while Jake and Tom get to sit in front of the tube all week.” He fell silent.

  “I’m sorry he hit you. I should’ve told you. I was forewarned the other day. But I didn’t think he’d—”

  Luke cut me off. “It’s not your fault.” Silence. Then he said, “I tried to call.”

  “I haven’t been taking calls. I didn’t even get my messages yet. But I tried to call you once, too.”

  “Well, anyway, at least now I can’t say I was never in a fight. You know, when my grandkids want to hear in a hundred years how badass I was.”

  I chuckled.

  He looked around my room and rubbed his socks against the carpet.

  “What do you think Jake will do when he comes back to school?”

  “Pssst. Nothing. He’s a sore loser. I beat him in one slam.”

  I smiled lightly.

  Luke nudged my chin with his finger. “Going to school tomorrow, Beautiful?”

  I reached for his hand. He grabbed mine and started rubbing the top of it. “I have to, because I have a math test next Tuesday and I’m way behind.”

  “Need help studying?”

  “Sure… I guess we could go downstairs. My dad will feel better if we do, anyway.”

  Dad smiled as he passed by with that coffee mug he pretended to forget in the next room every two minutes.

  “Okay,” Luke breathed.

  Before long we were down at the kitchen table. This time Dad came down for a cup of orange juice every five minutes, for a total of eleven times. I’ll bet he had to piss like a racehorse by the time we got out of there.

  Eventually logarithms got to me. Stress filled my chest, and was released as tears. Logs are rather confusing, for a mathematical moron like me.

  Luke was very patient, but after I burst into tears over a wrong answer, he asked if I wanted ice cream.

  Despite it being close to zero degrees out, I couldn’t resist. We needed some alone time. Besides, we ran out of Tropicana, and there’s no telling what Dad would pretend he needed next.

  I put on some decent makeup, including eye shadow and lipstick. We were putting our shoes on when the phone rang. Sullivan ran laps around the house trying to find it. Dad answered it. “Who’s that?” Sullivan nagged, “Is that Megan?”

  “Who’s Megan?” I wondered aloud.

  “My new girlfriend.” He waited for Dad, who was at the top of the stairs. “Is that her?”

  Dad shook his head no, said something into the phone and hung up. After a second in his office, he came down carrying a stack of notebooks and an empty glass. “Be back by eight.”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  Dad eyed Luke and put his finger out, nearly dropping everything. “Eight. Please.”

  “Eight,” Luke confirmed.

  Dad nodded. “Drive carefully. And zip your coats or you’ll get sick.” He saw us out and shut the door with his foot.

  As we walked to his Jeep, Luke wrapped his arm around my neck and pulled me close. He tenderly kissed the top of my head. “I missed you,” he breathed. His breath turned to frost on my cheek.

  “I missed you, too. So much.”

  We parted after he unlocked the doors. Inside we sat for a minute, waiting for the engine to warm back up. For the first time, silence was really awkward.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw him looking at me, though his eyes seemed aimed a bit low. Was he looking at my chest? When our eyes brushed, I smiled, though he immediately looked out his window.

  He put the Jeep in reverse and backed out of the driveway. Then, as if the words ice cream were never spoken, he said, “Wanna go off-road?”

  “Aren’t we supposed to have more than one truck with us? You know, in case we get stuck?” That’s what they do on TV.

  He drove with that big grin of his. “We won’t get stuck.” He’s hot and psychic, who would’ve guessed?

  He pulled off the main road, onto an ATV trail that led to God knows where. I gripped the roll cage above my head for emotional support. The problem was it was metal, and it was cold.

  “Lighten up,” he said with a smirk and a wink. “I came out here before. You’ll like where we’re going.” He put his hand on my knee. My breath stopped. “You okay?”

  “Just nervous,” I uttered, though I don’t think he heard me. He removed his hand and lowered his gearing to get over a snow-covered log. Then he pulled on the lever to put the Jeep in four-wheel-drive low.

  The snow-filled landscape was so serene. Breathtaking.

  We drove through a forest filled with scrawny black spruce as far as the eye can see. Branches slammed against the windshield. It kind of freaked me out, but the windshield’s really solid. I couldn’t believe he had no problem scratching up a perfectly new black Jeep! But after some huge bumps, I actually felt like I was having fun.

  Of course, I was still a worried about getting stuck and missing curfew.

  After about half an hour, we came to a clearing. He drove until it seemed there was no land left to drive on. That’s because there wasn’t—he’d parked us on the edge of a cliff.

  “Oh my God, back up, back up!” I sank my nails into anything and everything at arms-length and pushed back into my seat. I seriously thought the Jeep would slip and roll, crushing us to our deaths. But it didn’t go anywhere, it just sat like we were floating.

  Luke beamed. “Isn’t this cool? I thought you’d like it.”

  Like it? I was scared stiff. My body wobbled. It wobbled worse when he opened his window and began crawling out like Spiderman! “What are you doing!”

  “There’s only a foot of earth on my side, so I can’t get out through the door.” So he climbs out?

  Ten seconds later he was on his hood. “There’s more than a foot on your side, you can open your door and climb on,” he said, patting the hood beside him. “Come on!”

  I stared at him. Was he out of his mind? How was I to be certain the cliff would even support the weight of the vehicle?

  “It’s just an overhang,” he assured me. “It’s really not so bad. Not too steep, even! Come on!”

  I cringed, opened my door and looked down. There was about three feet of space, then the icy ground fell about ten feet. So it wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined. But I was terrified anyway.

  I stepped out carefully and moved sideways so I could shu
t the door. Then I crept over to him, holding onto any part of the vehicle for dear life. There was actually several feet of ground beyond where the front tires rested. But I still worried.

  He helped me climb onto the hood. We sat with our boots on the bumper, scanning the landscape. Far in the distance we saw a frozen lake surrounded by an ocean of trees. Two bald eagles screeched overhead, dancing in flight.

  “You like it?”

  I hate to admit it, but I actually did. I laughed. “That doesn’t mean you’re not nuts for doing it!”

  “It’s kinda like skiing. We’ve been at a higher altitude than this.”

  “Not sitting on the hood of or strapped into a car!” I said sarcastically.

  He laughed.

  “Are you sure this huge chunk of rock won’t break off the mountain?” I asked, nervously eyeing the drop.

  “It’s solid,” he promised. “You can’t tell from up here, because you can’t see it, it’s beneath us. You worry too much.”

  “Well, I don’t want to plunge to my death. I can see this thing crumple up like a soda can!”

  “You’re a drama queen.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Hey, I know drama queens, and I’m not that bad!”

  He looked dubious. “Really? Like who?”

  “My friend Lilly is a major drama queen.”

  He laughed.

  “What?”

  “You’re a drama queen!”

  “No, I swear, my friend’s worse than me! Just wait, you’ll meet her!”

  “You would know,” he said. “I just know what I see, and I see the world’s hottest drama queen.” He smiled seductively, his eyes twinkling.

  “Oh yeah, that would be Lilly, too! The world’s absolute hottest drama queen!”

  He snickered. “Not to me!”

  “You’ll change your mind when you meet her,” I assured him.

  He laughed again. “I highly doubt it!”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Part of me actually worried this Greek god would up and dump me when he meets my best friend. She’d find him hot—guaranteed.

  He took off his coat and jumped to his feet, cupped his hands around his mouth and screamed, “Adonia’s the world’s hottest drama queen!”