by Laura Brown
Fucking family. “Yes.”
Mom nodded, eyes trailing around her room. “If one of you goes into crisis, you both do. Always been that way. Worked when you were friends, but not now that you are a couple. In a relationship, one needs to be sturdy when the other weakens. You need to support each other differently than you are used to. Why are you still working for Dad?”
I blinked as I tried to follow the sudden shift in conversation. “What?” I didn’t know which way to go and contemplated rubbing my eyes for clarity.
“Blake and your father, two peas, one pod. You, you were always mine. But your father had dreams, and you expressed honest interest when you were younger. But now? Now you know what you want.”
“He’s not listening.”
“Sign louder.”
I looked up at the drop tile ceiling. “But if I stay where I am, I can help support Jasmine.”
When I dared lower my eyes, I found Mom nodding slowly. “But is that the right support? You’ve always been her partner in crime. Don’t rock the boat when the waters are already unstable.”
“Is this why you wanted me to visit?”
Mom leaned back in her chair. “I want to make sure that when you’ve graduated, you’re happy with your life decision. And yes, that includes Jasmine. All I want is for my children to be happy.”
Her words stayed with me through work, which I did on autopilot again, and as I returned home. I found Jasmine on my bed watching a movie. She looked my way and smiled, but it fell flat. I wanted to make her really smile again.
I’d been doing that since I was eleven.
I climbed onto the bed with her and kissed her. My hand tangled in her hair. She kissed me back, open and full. She never kissed me any differently. No matter the tension between us, when I had her like this, I had all of her.
She tangled her legs with mine, rubbed her body against mine. I dug my hands into her hips and forced myself to slow down before I did some basic, human interaction. I broke the kiss. “How are you doing?”
Her body stiffened, and she untangled her legs. “Fine.”
Shit. I hovered over her, forcing her onto her back, her curls splayed out on my comforter. “Don’t lie. It’s an honest question.”
“I dropped off some of Mom’s belongings. She wasn’t in the mood for company. Then I threw out the matzo box. You managed a week; you sure you didn’t cheat?”
I felt like she’d either thrown a curveball at me or set a trap, even as I was relieved I could stop eating that crap. “I didn’t cheat. I told you I’d last a week.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I’ll do anything for you, don’t you realize that? I’d eat matzo for another week if you want. Where’s the box?” My insides may have been screaming at me to stop this nonsense, but I still moved as if I was ready to save the cardboard from the trash.
“Don’t be silly. How does eating matzo prove anything?”
“How else do I get through your stubbornness?”
“That kind of stubbornness is reserved for family.”
Didn’t she realize she was part of mine? “Family is only blood?”
Jas froze. She had to know I thought of her as family, had for years. “You know what I mean.” She pushed me back and sat up, adjusting her tee shirt, a sure sign she intended to cut me off.
“You sure you want to build that wall?”
“I’m not building a wall.” Yet the air cooled around us.
“Just laying the foundation.” I never should have stopped kissing her.
She shoved her hands into her hair, blond curls fanning out around her. “I don’t want to do this.”
Good, something we agreed on. Except for one fact. “We’ll just circle around and get back here later.”
“Maybe later I’ll feel like handling it.”
Fat chance. “Maybe later you’ll feel worse.”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “Not now. Please.”
We stared at each other as a barrier grew. If we drew attention to it, it would only expand faster. We knew each other so well, and yet there were no answers. The pivotal point in our relationship had arrived. Too soon. I wasn’t ready. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
Jas climbed onto my lap, brushed her lips against mine. We used to talk things out; now we fed emotions with sex. Didn’t stop me from kissing her back, taking what she gave.
Only neither one of us pushed it further. The kisses retained innocence, as if our relationship reversed. That should have brought some comfort. If we reversed, we’d go back to our friendship.
I didn’t want that. I wanted everything that went along with being in love. I didn’t care if some other guy would call me a wuss for that behavior. I knew what I felt and what I wanted. Which meant I needed to give Jas time and space.
And pray.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jasmine
A CLEAR SIGN things weren’t right between Dev and me: we slept in our pajamas. Sure, we’d done so countless times in the past, but since we’d started having sex, we were always intimate. Now the lack of it sat like a boulder between us.
I faked sleep when he got out of bed, eyes open just enough to get a blurry image. I had hoped for a little skin to start my day, but Dev took his clothes with him to the bathroom. Nothing like the man who curled his naked body around mine to sleep.
Unsettled as I was, I fell back to sleep. Easier to sleep part of the day away than deal with reality. When I woke, he was gone and I had the apartment to myself. I could stare at the ceiling or finish an ice cream carton. What I needed required a connection.
I got out of bed and collected my box with Dad’s belongings. The familiar pain tugged at my chest, only now it morphed, tinged with a new sensation after my conversation with Mom. I shuffled to the bottom and pulled out the stack of pictures. A few of him, a lot of him and me, and a few of my parents together.
I stopped on one. Nothing special about the event. They stood in front of a store, Mom cuddled under Dad’s arm, Dad bent to rest his chin on the top of her head. They looked happy. I’d never stopped to think about that before now; they looked like a typical couple who loved each other. And yet, they fought. They had their issues. But even with their last fight, they never stopped loving each other.
I went over to Dev’s desk, where he had a picture of us framed. It had been taken before we’d started dating. Our arms around each other, we were smiling like two hams for the camera. We looked happy too.
No, we looked more than happy; we looked permanent.
I tried to imagine what the future could look like, but with my own employment up in smoke, I couldn’t form a picture. Too many questions, too many unknowns. And without those answers, I wouldn’t know how Dev would be affected.
I returned to my box, picked up the pictures of Dad and me. Stopped at the one from the bar. We each held an empty beer mug, corny smiles on our faces. Dad had one arm around me. Just a happy family picture, except for the fact it took place in a bar.
The bar that caused problems with my parents. I put the pictures back in the box, thumbed through the recipes. Dad loved his bar. Did I want to run one like he had because I wanted to? Or because of some foolish kid logic that I’d get him back?
I leaned back and closed my eyes. Pictured the smells of the bar. The finicky customers, the spilled beer. The smile nearly broke my face. Yes. It was still my answer, even if it was not exactly plausible.
My phone rumbled next to me, and I picked it up.
Nikki: You didn’t tell me you lost your job!
Me: Not exactly fun to share.
Nikki: Friends don’t care about fun.
I blew out a breath.
Nikki: Don’t turn into a turtle unless we come into that shell with you.
I laughed, even as it hurt.
Me: I’m trying to figure out my next step.
Nikki: Great! I’ll come over and help.
Me: Don’t you have class?
I tapped my thumb to my phone, but no response came.
Me: I’m waiting for an answer!
I suspected I’d be waiting until she showed up outside Dev’s door. And I was still in my pajamas. Well, if she arrived too quickly, she’d have to wait.
I managed to shower and run some gel through my hair before the doorbell flashed. Sure enough, Nikki stood on the other side. She barged in the minute I opened the door and paced the area, hands on hips. When she didn’t come at me with anything right away, I realized I had been a shitty friend.
Nikki had her own issues on her mind.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Nikki halted her pacing and dropped her hands. “What do you mean?”
“There’s something bothering you. What is it?”
“Men suck.”
“That’s supposed to be a good thing.”
Nikki’s jaw dropped, and she stared at me. “You’ve never had that reaction before.”
My cheeks flamed, and I tried very hard not to imagine Dev’s mouth on me.
“Oh my God, I think I officially know too much about Devon.”
I covered my burning cheeks; how had I dug this hole? “Forget I said that.”
“You barely said anything. Details.” She plopped on the couch.
“First you said you know too much, and now you want details?”
“Yes,” she laughed. “Your love life is much more interesting than mine.”
My eyes opened wide. “Wait, wait a minute, what’s happening with your love life?”
Nikki bit her plump lip.
“Come on! You know too much about mine, spill.”
“Pete came over last night . . . ” Nikki’s hands trailed off. I waited for her to get to her point, only to realize she had.
I slapped the couch cushion between us. “Pete? You and Pete?”
Nikki’s shoulders stiffened. “Why is that so hard to believe? You and Dev are dating.”
I shook my head to try to descramble this new information. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t noticed it before.” And if that didn’t make me feel like a horrible friend . . .
Nikki slouched back against the cushions. “I hadn’t either.”
I blinked, but nothing made sense. “Explain. Now.”
“As I said, Pete came over. And we chatted like normal, everything was great. Then he kissed me.”
My eyes bugged out. “And?”
She played with an imaginary piece of lint on her jeans. “And I was shocked. I didn’t kiss him back. I didn’t respond. He left.”
“Pete’s an idiot.”
Nikki stiffened.
“You’re shocked because you liked it.”
She pressed her lips together, signed nothing.
I whipped out my phone, set up a quick text to Dev.
Me: Nikki’s here. Invite Pete over tonight. Do NOT tell Pete about Nikki.
Dev: I don’t trust you.
Me: Good.
Dev: What’s going on?
Me: I’m fixing a relationship.
I clicked Send before my words registered. Shit. We both knew things weren’t right between us, and here I was behaving as if nothing had changed.
Dev: Ours?
Pain slashed at me from that one, and my stomach felt queasy.
Me: Pete and Nikki, but you don’t know that.
Dev: OK.
The man made me crazy. I threw my phone on the cushion, only to realize Nikki had read every word.
“What’s wrong with you two?”
“I’m unemployed.”
“So?”
“Dev has a helping complex.”
“So?”
I stopped signing, not wanting to get into this further.
Unfortunately, Nikki clearly wasn’t going to consider my wants, not with the way she tapped her fingers to her knees. “I think you’re scared. And rather than reaching out to others for support, you’ve already hid in that shell without us.”
I shook my head. “I’m not trying to shut you out.”
“Of course not, because you already have. Or do you not remember that we lost you, all of us, when your father died?”
I stood. “I’ll make up some drinks for tonight.”
Nikki stomped on the floor until I turned. “Stop hiding behind alcohol or anything else you can find. We like you as you are. Flaws, pain, and all. You don’t have to prove anything—just be yourself. Can you? Can you let Jasmine Helmsman outside of her shell?”
I stared at her, dark skin, blond hair, focusing on details instead of myself. “I don’t know.”
“Well, you better figure it out. Because Devon needs all of you, or it won’t work.” Nikki settled into the couch and pulled out her phone. I stood rooted to my spot. Everything she signed was the truth. Truth I didn’t know what to do with.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Devon
I ARRIVED HOME to a party in progress. Snacks in brightly colored bowls covered the coffee table. Nikki was mixing some sort of dip or something, and Jas stood in the kitchen, her hair pulled back into a thick mass of curls. I trailed my eyes down her snug powder-blue top and skinny jeans, which teased me with the threadbare spots on her thighs. Her tattoo was visible as she reached for something, a spot of black ink claiming her as mine. She moved with confidence, a lighthearted stance I’d been missing. Then her actions came into focus, namely the alcohol on the counter and in her hands.
That explained part of the happiness. I wanted to walk over to her, wrap my arms around her, and kiss her until she dropped a glass. My hesitation had nothing to do with Nikki.
I flicked the lights, and both women looked my way. Nikki waved. Jas’s smile morphed, no longer carefree, but warm and only for me. Screw it.
I crossed the room and took her into my arms, bending her backward as I feasted on her mouth. Her lips parted in shock against mine, but I still felt that smile. She wound her arms behind my neck and gave into the kiss, into everything we were. But we couldn’t fully give in, not with company. It would be enough for now. I set her back on her feet. Her pink cheeks all but glowed as she picked up the glass she had managed to leave on the counter.
Nikki fanned herself. “Hot.”
I shook my head and wondered how much Nikki knew. Jas and I always shared more with each other, but Nikki and Pete were never that far behind. Would Jas start sharing more with them now that she and I were in this awkward place? That sucked, because I still wanted Jas as my best friend.
The doorbell flashed, and I didn’t check the peephole, just let Pete in. I had forgotten Jas was playing matchmaker until Pete froze. For a long moment, he stared at Nikki and she stared back. I closed the door, nudging Pete out of the way in the process. Jas continued working. None of this distracted them.
I caught Jas’s eyes over their heads. “What did I miss?”
She gestured infinitesimally to Nikki and Pete and puckered her lips. Oh. I studied my other two friends and noted the sexual tension in the air.
They continued their staring match, so I responded to Jas, signing “finally,” my hands barely moving.
“You knew?” she whispered back.
I pulled out my phone.
Me: Pete’s had a crush for a while.
Jas: And you didn’t tell me?
Me: Wasn’t my story.
We both put our phones away, having our own staring match. Because we’d settled one puzzle between us: we had no secrets, and yet when it came to romance, we closed ourselves off. We didn’t share our feelings for each other, and that extended to how we treated our friends.
Jas shook her head and stomped on the floor, breaking both stares. “Sit. Drink. Eat. Friends hang out, right?”
Pete scratched his head and took a seat. Nikki stayed in the kitchen. Jas collected drinks, three different kinds, and handed them out.
“We haven’t had dinner yet,” Pete signed.
Jas shrugged. “So?”
I checked the food. Munchi
es, no meal. “Pizza?” After a week of no bread, I needed pizza. And every form of flour present in the munchies. After everyone nodded, I pulled out my phone and went through the online checkout for the local pizza place. Then it was back to awkward silence. I fiddled with my drink and took a sip, the alcohol tingling against my tongue and burning a path down my throat. “You trying to get us drunk?” I asked Jas.
“Each drink is different. Maybe she just wants you drunk?” Nikki signed.
Jas blew me a kiss, refusing to answer.
Pete put his drink down; if he’d tried any of his, it wasn’t visible. He faced Jas. “I talked with my boss. We do have some openings, but I still think you can do better.”
I shot my eyes to Jas, who nodded like this wasn’t some new piece of information. It wasn’t to her. I banged on the table, Pete’s drink sloshing into a bowl of chips. “What are you talking about?”
Nikki took the bowl and cleaned up the mess. Pete collected his drink. I held Jas captive and waited. Her back stiff, she met my intensity, then breathed out. “You know it’s hard for deaf to find work.”
“I know.”
She exhaled again. “It’s another option for me. Even my savings won’t last long.”
“I’m not asking you for any money.”
Her eyes turned cold. “Not now.”
“It’s the truth! You’re my friend, my girlfriend. How much of an asshole would I be if I didn’t support you?”
She stood. “I support myself.”
The floor vibrated beneath our feet, and we turned to Nikki jumping up and down. “Stop! Stop it right now. You are not allowed to have this conversation until you stop fighting. If you fight, you will hurt each other. If you calm down, all the way down, then you can communicate.” She pushed two full shot glasses in our direction.
I shook my head no and pushed them back.
“Why not? It’s not worse than the drink she made.”
“I’ll drink it. She won’t.”
Nikki popped a hip out. “Controlling much?”
I faced Jas and stepped away from the table. Either way, this was up to her. I wasn’t about to police whether she drank or not; it had been instinct to shield her.
She eyed the glass and shook her head. “I don’t want to drink in case I have a problem with alcohol.”