Muscle Memory

by Stylo Fantome

  “It's only ... you have to be careful. You're dating his daughter. What happens if your relationship ends?” Mrs. Sloan asked.

  “So what if it ends?”

  “Kitty is his daughter, Jon. Whose side do you think the judge will take? And dating his daughter or not, it's rare thing that people help others for nothing. Can you be sure he won't ask for something in return? That you won't owe him anything later?” she checked.

  Jon clenched his teeth together. He didn't want to hear this, not one bit. Mr. Beaumont working on his identity issues was probably the best thing going on in Jon's life. He couldn't bear the thought of letting it go.

  I need a name. A real name. I need to be somebody, Sloany. If I have to pay whatever, I'll do it!

  “You don't understand anything!” he snapped, climbing to his feet and grabbing his jacket. “You're just angry because these people could help me when you couldn't. They could save me when you didn't have a fucking clue.”

  “You know that's not true, Jon,” she argued.

  “Fuck you, Sloany. A real friend would've been happy for me.”

  He went to storm out, but she grabbed him by the wrist.

  “Don't do this, Jon,” she urged, staring up at him. “I'm the realest friend you've got. Sit down. Talk to me.”

  He knew he should. It was the right thing to do. She was his friend, he knew that, he was just angry. And the anger boiled and bubbled up inside him, blocking everything else out. He yanked his arm free and stormed out the door.

  He walked for blocks. Blocks and blocks, not even paying attention to where he was going or what time it was. He was in the middle of some random park when his phone started vibrating in his back pocket. Figuring it was Sloany, he took out the phone and answered it without looking at the screen.

  “I'm sorry,” he said. “I don't know why I freaked, I -”

  “Jon?”

  He stopped walking. It wasn't Mrs. Sloan, it was Kitty. Shit, he'd forgotten he was supposed to meet up with her. He glanced at his watch. He was hours past when he should've been there.

  “I'm so sorry,” he groaned.

  “Jon,” she sighed. “This was a big deal. I really wanted you to meet these people.”

  “I know, I know. Something happened, I totally spaced it,” he said.

  “What could possibly happen that could make you forget meeting me?”

  “I had my meeting with Mrs. Sloan. She ... we got into a big fight. I wound up yelling at her and storming out of the cafe. I've just been walking around ever since,” he explained.

  “Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry. I know how close you two are. It must be hard for her, now that you've got other people to take care of you,” she said. He frowned.

  “I'm not a Labrador, Kitty,” he said. “I don't need to be taken care of. I generally manage to dress and bathe and feed myself.”

  “That's not what I meant. Stop being so sensitive, silly. I'll reschedule for tomorrow.”

  She didn't ask, she told him. Jon knew he was still in a bad mood from his fight, and of course Sloany's words were still rattling around in his brain. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

  “Okay. Okay, fine, yeah. Tomorrow, I'll be there for sure.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “Good. Now to make up for it, you have to do me a favor,” she said, but her voice was full of teasing.

  “What?” he asked, instantly on guard.

  “You have to come to dinner tonight with my parents,” she told him.

  “Oh. Okay, where at?” he asked, glancing at his watch. He hoped not in Westchester. He had to get approval from Gary Tupper to stay out of the halfway house overnight, which was always granted, but it was getting late. Gary preferred advance notice, liked knowing where all his wards were at any given time.

  “Mid town,” she replied. Okay. That was a little easier for him. “This great little place near the park.”

  “Sounds good. What time?”

  “We're meeting at five for drinks. And Jon,” her voice took on an edge, and he knew it meant work for him. “Wear something nice, okay?”

  “Why?” he asked, dragging the word out.

  “Because my dad is bringing some of his lawyer friends, he wants you to meet them.”

  Jon groaned. Mid town dinner with a bunch of Manhattan lawyers? Meeting people in general made him nervous. How could you introduce yourself if you didn't even know yourself? And meeting smart, successful people? The worst.

  “Please, Kitty,” he grumbled. “I had a really tough day today. I don't think I'm up for schmoozing.”

  “It's not 'schmoozing', what an awful word! You're making new friends, and very important people, I might add! I mean, don't you want their help? You have to make a little bit of effort, Jon. How do you think they'll feel if you can't even be bothered to show up to dinner? Do you think they'd still want to help you?” she told him.

  He wanted to argue. Wanted to inform her that he wasn't some circus sideshow she could parade around for all her Upper East Side friends. That if they were the kind of people who expected everyone around them to drop all their plans to have last minute dinner with them, than no, he didn't want their help.

  He was being stupid. Irrational. He did need help. He also needed a nap and a stiff cocktail and ... something. He couldn't define what, exactly. He'd go home and get ready and by the time he got downtown, he'd be in a better mood. The Beaumonts had done so much for him, he could at least show up to dinner.

  Trained monkey, here at your disposal!

  “You're right,” he sighed, heading back onto the street. “I do want their help. I'll go home and get cleaned up, then I'll message when I'm on my way.”

  “See? That's wasn't so hard. And don't worry, I have a big surprise planned for you. If things go well tonight, I'll tell you all about it,” she promised.

  A crowd of people poured out of a building in front of him and he almost ran someone over. He side stepped and mumbled apologies and tried to push his way through, when suddenly the smell hit him. Like a punch to the chest. He stopped moving and gasped.

  There it was again. That sinking feeling in his chest. Like he was nervous or scared, but really, it was because he was remembering. Not literally, no memories came with the sensation. But he knew that's what it was – it was his body remembering, even if his brain couldn't.

  Kitty was squawking on the other end of the phone, but he didn't listen. He closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath though his nose. Just kept inhaling the scent. It was awful, really. Coarse and even a little painful to his lungs. He let out the breath on a sigh.

  Cigarette smoke. Holy shit, I used to be a smoker.

  “Oh my god,” he gasped into the phone.

  “Where did you? I thought you'd had an accident!” she yelled at him. He shook his head and jogged through the group of people, then leaned against a lamp post.

  “Kitty, holy shit! I used to smoke!”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Smoke!” he exclaimed. “I was walking and this group of people got in front of me, and they were all smoking, and it was like ... jesus, it was like I just knew. I could feel the smoke in my lungs, taste it on my tongue! Feel the cigarette between my fingertips!”

  “Ew. That's gross, Jon. Smoking is a disgusting habit,” she told him. He pulled back and stared at the phone for a second like she was insane, then put it back to his ear.

  “Kitty, I don't give a shit about bad habits – I remembered something. I mean, it's not much, but it's something! I used to be a smoker! I can remember smoking!” he exclaimed. She sighed down the line.

  “Well, I'm happy you remember something, but I wish it wasn't a bad habit. Do you really think you smoked? God, I hope you don't take it up again,” she said.

  “No. I mean, I don't plan on it. You don't think this is huge?” he asked.

  “Of course I do! It's a baby step back to your memories, it's great. Remember to be there tonight a
t five o'clock sharp, okay?” she reminded him.

  He muttered something agreeable into the phone, then listened as she made kissy noises and hung up. He dropped his arm and just stood there, staring across the street at a corner shop.

  I used to smoke. I used to buy ... something. What brand? God, I can see it in my mind, why can't I say it!? I used to smoke. Not a lot, maybe once or twice a day. Sometimes not at all.

  It was a dirty disgusting habit. Awful. Unhealthy. Made people smell bad. Made their teeth yellow. Wasted their money. Kitty found it repulsive, and didn't want him to do it.

  Jon walked into the corner shop and didn't stop to guess at what brand, just bought a pack of Camel 99's like he'd been doing it all his life. He smoked five back to back on the walk home, not coughing even once. Every breath, every puff of smoke, was like being transported to somewhere else. To another time.

  Baby steps, Jon. Baby steps back into the past.

  Before

  Jayson leaned against a wall, staring across the street. Delaney was over there, window shopping. The late September day was rainy and wet and miserable, putting him in a difficult mood. Shouldn't the sun always be shining on him? He was in love, after all. Forever and ever.

  In love with someone who can do so much better than me.

  “You're not gonna get it?” he asked when she jogged back to him. She hadn't even gone into the costume shop.

  “Nah. Too expensive. We can go to Goodwill and I can probably jerry-rig something,” she told him. He frowned, but she kept smiling and grabbed his hand, leading him down the street.

  Jay had only lasted a couple weeks in his job. Luckily, Del got a new one before Jay could get fired, so they weren't destitute. But it was a shitty job waitressing at some run down titty bar. He didn't like it at all, but Del pointed out how much he liked eating, and how they both liked doing drugs, so someone had to bring in some money. The tips were also pretty okay, so that made it slightly more bearable.

  They were still squatting. Still living on the fringe. Del never once complained. She went to bed with a smile and she woke up with smile. Jay lived for her smiles, so he tried to trust her when she said everything was okay. She also never took off her ring. She wore it with pride, no longer introducing him as her boyfriend, but as her fiancé. He just about wanted to die, she made him so happy.

  Then why can't you do better for her?

  “I'm sorry, Del,” he sighed as they turned into a residential neighborhood.

  “For what? Oh god, did you leave the milk out again?” she groaned.

  “No. I'm sorry we're not in a house like these people. That I can't get my shit together,” he said, gesturing to the buildings around them. She burst out laughing.

  “Jay, this is a shitty neighborhood. Most of these houses are abandoned. I wouldn't want to live like these people. I like our life. It has you and I in it,” she told him, wiggling their arms.

  “Still. I just ... I can never quite shake this feeling I'm bad for you. Like if we'd never met that night, you wouldn't have done coke with me, and we wouldn't have gone out. I never would've introduced you to gravity bongs or wake-and-bake or ecstasy or oxy. You'd probably be with some nice guy right now. Not an asshole like me,” he said.

  “Stop it, right now,” she snapped, moving in front of him and coming to a halt. “Newsflash, Jayson Fairbanks, I wasn't some princess living in an iceberg before you came along. You think that was the first night I'd ever gotten stoned? That I'd ever done coke? No. I would have done it regardless of whether or not it was with you. Think of it that way, asshole. If you hadn't been there, I would've wound up doing it with Crash. Or worse, one of his nasty friends. Then where would I be?”

  He'd never thought of it that way before, and he had to admit, he didn't like it.

  “You can do better than me, babe. So much better. Sometimes, I think you should.”

  She went completely still.

  “Are you breaking up with me?” she whispered.

  “No, Del. I just think maybe you should think -”

  “This is you breaking up with me!” she yelled, startling some birds out of the tree next to them. “Well, guess what!? NO! You can't! I don't accept your break up! You said forever, so it's goddamn forever. You promised. So sucks to be you, but we are in love, and that's just the way it's going to be, so deal with it.”

  He was shocked by her outburst, then flat out stunned when she turned and started running. She had a solid block on him before he came to his senses and started chasing after her.

  “Delaney, stop!” he yelled, pumping his legs.

  She wasn't listening, but it didn't matter. He was a natural runner, had been doing it all his life, and his legs were so much longer than hers. He caught up to her in no time. She had veered off the sidewalk and was dashing into the bike line when he reached her. She shrieked and kicked as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

  “You don't get to do this!” she cried, and he realized she was sobbing. “You can't just leave me. I love you, Jayson! I love you.”

  “Shhh,” he breathed in her ear as he carried her back to the sidewalk. “Calm down. We can talk about this.”

  “Calm down? Fuck you, you calm down! How would you feel if I tried to dump you and make it seem like it was for your benefit? Don't touch me. Don't you fucking touch me!” she shrieked.

  And that broke him. The idea of not being allowed to touch Delaney, it was completely foreign to him. It would be like telling him he wasn't allowed to breathe or eat or sleep. He might as well be asked not to touch his own body. No one had that kind of authority. Not him, and not even her. She belonged to him.

  “Don't ever say that,” he said, sinking down till he was sitting on the curb. She was a ball of elbows and knees, still struggling against his hold. “Don't you ever say that to me again.”

  “How could you want to leave me? For any reason? I can't live without you, Jay,” she sobbed, finally curling into him and gripping onto his jacket. He held onto her tightly.

  “I can't live without you, either,” he said, struggling to breathe. “I'm just afraid of doing the wrong thing, Del. I love you so much, I just wanted to do what was best.”

  “Well, I love you so much I can't even stand the thought of letting you go. That's real love. That's what's best,” she said, her voice full of anger and tears. Another wave of shame and guilt passed over him.

  She thinks I don't love her as much as she loves me.

  “I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I'm so sorry. I'll never do something like this again.”

  “You have to trust us,” she hiccuped and gasped. “It's real. Real love. And it will find a way. We'll get through all the bullshit, no matter what, because we always have each other.”

  “I'm sorry. You're right. I should trust us,” he sighed, pressing his lips against her head.

  “In love we trust, remember?” she reminded him.

  “I remember. I remember everything about you.”

  “Don't ever leave me,” she whispered, shaking in his arms.

  “Never. I will never leave you,” he promised.

  They sat on the curb like that for a long time, just crying and holding each other. Love was such a strange thing. He'd thought he'd known what it was when he was younger, when he'd loved his sisters and his parents. He'd thought he'd understood better when he was older, when he'd met Jenny Horowitz and she'd taken his virginity. And of course the end all be all – drugs. When he'd first discovered getting high, he'd been sure that's what true love felt like, no other loves needed.

  Now he knew he'd had no idea. Not the faintest clue. All other kinds of love were obliterated in the presence of Delaney. How could it be possible to love another human being so much? She hadn't even existed in his world six months ago. Now she was his world.

  And my heart and my soul and my everything.

  “Where have you been all my life?” he whispered. She hugged him tight for a second, then sat back. Her face and eyes were p
uffy, red. She looked miserable, he'd never seen her like that before. They fought all the time, but she never cried, not actual sobbing. Never. Not even once.

  “I don't want to feel this way anymore,” she sniffled, holding onto the edges of his jacket. “Please, Jay. Let's go somewhere, do something. Let's be happy.”

  He nodded and stood up, then gently set her back down on the sidewalk. They held hands and resumed walking.

  And that was the night he introduced Delaney to speed.

  8

  Things were great.

  Things were awful.

  Things were fun.

  Things were boring.

  Anymore, it was like Jon's moods changed with the weather. Some days he was glad to be alive and thankful for all the gifts he'd been given. He'd high five Gary Tupper in the morning, help Ms. Gaines make breakfast, put in a solid three hours at the community center, then go out with Kitty. Life was good.

  Other days, though, were the complete opposite. He could barely pull himself out of bed in time to go to work, let alone help with anything around the house. He half assed his chores, and lost his door privileges more than once. Life was annoying.

  And he cared about Kitty, he honestly did. She was gorgeous and lovely. She really did take care of him, and most importantly, she cared about him. She was funny and energetic and bright. They went out to the movies and dinner, took in shows and went shopping. It was a lot of fun.

  Sometimes they spent the weekend in Westchester, with him sneaking over to the garage apartment every night, and even a few times during the day. Other times, she'd surprise him by renting a hotel room and staying downtown. It was awesome, and yet something was missing. He could feel it. Like it all wasn't enough.

  They had sex all the time, and it was ... sex. Sex is awesome. She'd come, he'd come, bing bang boom, done. She'd gotten over some of her shyness, allowing the lights to be left on once in a while, or lighting a candle. She even let him go down on her a couple times. On Valentine's Day, he got a blow job. He couldn't remember ever having one before, but he was pretty sure he could tell she wasn't experienced at it. It didn't matter, it was still awesome, and it was a very sweet gesture.