by Olivia Evans
Would beating someone with a fish be considered assault with a deadly weapon?
I opened the picture she had attached and then doubled over laughing. By the time I’d finally caught my breath, my sides hurt, my face was hot, and everyone in the room was staring at me. I cleared my throat and rubbed the back of my neck.
“Well, I’m going to assume Skylar didn’t just send you naked pictures with that reaction. So, tell us, what was it?” Drew asked, chuckling.
I waited for Rachel to smack him or Mom to scold him or Dad to give him that withering glare he was famous for, but none of that happened. Instead, they all just stared at me expectantly. I shook my head; I couldn’t even think of a smartass remark as I looked at the picture again. I passed my phone to Rachel, who started giggling immediately.
“Who do you think took this?” she asked.
“I have no idea. Maybe her cousin Grace or her boyfriend Preston.” There was certainly no way Skylar had taken the picture.
“Well, what is it?” Dad asked, eyeing my phone with a small grin on his face. I jerked my head back, a little shocked he was interested in seeing the picture. Then I remembered I hadn’t always been an asshole, and Dad and I used to be close.
“It’s Skylar with her dad. He’s sitting at someone’s kitchen table, trying to appear innocent, and Skylar…” I couldn’t stop myself from laughing again. “Skylar is standing over him with the scariest bitchface I’ve ever seen, holding four huge fish in her hands. She looks like she’s about to beat him with them.”
“Don’t forget about the big pile on the kitchen table, too,” Drew added, passing my phone over to Mom. She walked to Dad, and the two of them looked at the picture, matching grins on their faces.
“She looks like she has some fire,” Dad commented with a grin as he reached across the coffee table to hand me back the phone.
“You have no idea,” I mumbled.
“She definitely keeps him in check.” Rachel laughed. “I’ve seen it.”
I opened the text and typed out a reply.
Not if you dispose of said weapon. Destroy the evidence. What exactly are you doing with all those fish anyway?
“Okay, dinner’s ready. Brennan, will you help me carry the dishes to the table?” Mom asked.
“Yeah, sure.” I followed her into the kitchen while everyone else moved into the dining room. I’d just reached for a couple plates when she grabbed my arm.
“It’s good to see you smile again,” she said softly. “I’m not trying to have a heart-to-heart with you, so don’t get all defensive. I just wanted to say I’m glad you’ve found someone who can make you smile.” She squeezed my arm and let go, moving around me to grab dinner and carry it into the dining room.
I pivoted and braced my arms against the countertop as I took a deep breath. I let my eyes slide shut and tried to take another deep breath, but my chest was tight, constricted. My phone vibrated again, but I didn’t move to get it. I knew it was from Skylar, and I needed a minute to get my shit together.
“Brennan, you coming?” Mom asked, popping her head around the corner.
“Yup. Be right there.” I grabbed the rest of the dishes and moved into the dining room, setting everything down and sliding into my seat. Everyone around me chatted and laughed as they filled their plates, but I was distracted. My phone felt as if it were a time bomb, like if I didn’t take it out and read her message right then, it would explode. I would explode. It had only been two days since I’d seen her, and I fucking missed her. I wasn’t supposed to miss her. I wasn’t supposed to laugh at pictures of her and smile when I thought about something she’d said or done. But I did. I yanked my phone out of my pocket, pissed that I couldn’t even wait until I was in my room before checking it.
Martin and Preston went fishing! Who fishes in this weather? He wants me to cook them for dinner. Christmas dinner. I have an idea where to dispose of them.
“You’ve got it bad, dude,” Drew chuckled from across the table.
“What?” I scowled.
“Your face, that goofy grin. You’re so screwed.”
“Drew, that’s enough,” Mom scolded. “Leave your brother alone. Let’s eat.”
I swung my head in her direction in surprise, but she just waved me off and dug into her food. She started up a conversation with Rachel, chattering about who knows what, while Dad and Drew talked about classes, effectively taking the attention away from me. I stared down at my plate, suddenly not very hungry. I ate what I could, jumping into conversations every now and then until it was okay for me to leave the table without suspicion.
I trudged up the stairs and stripped to my boxers, falling face first onto my bed. I winced, rolling onto my side when something sharp jabbed into my skin. I grabbed the box I’d left there earlier and tossed it onto my nightstand before wrapping my arms around my pillow and pushing my face into it in frustration. I wanted the blackness to swallow me whole so I could forget this entire mess I’d created. My phone buzzed again, and I groaned. Reaching for my pants, I pulled it from the pocket. I clutched it in my hand for a minute before peeking at the screen.
What are you doing?
I typed out a quick reply.
I’m figuring out how to bust you out when you’re arrested for assault with a fish.
I stared at my phone for a second, my thumb hovering over the send button before I exhaled a harsh breath. Fuck it. I had one more week of contact with her before I never spoke to her again. I might as well enjoy her while I could. I thumbed through my contacts and pressed send on her name without giving it a second thought. I was a selfish motherfucker for calling her, but really, that seemed par for the course for me these days.
“Hey,” she answered, a smile in her voice.
I felt my own lips curve up into a grin as I leaned back against the headboard and stretched out on my bed. “Hey.”
“How’s being home? Are Drew and Rachel behaving?”
“Of course they aren’t,” I scoffed. “But at least they aren’t expecting fish for Christmas dinner.”
She huffed into the phone. “If it weren’t for Grace… Well, let’s just say I might need you to seriously consider a plan to bust me out of jail.”
I laughed and felt my shoulders slump and relax as the tension slowly leaked from my body. We talked until my phone beeped, alerting me the battery was about to die, then talked until it was burning my cheek after I plugged it into the charger. The next day, we did the same. We talked about nothing and everything, my guilt for not knowing these little things about her tempered only by my newfound desire to know them now.
We’d been on the phone for a couple hours when a yawn escaped my mouth. I was exhausted, my eyes tired, and my cheeks sore from the constant smile stretched across my face.
“Merry Christmas,” she mumbled, her voice thick with fatigue.
I glanced at the clock, the red glowing numbers reading 12:00. It was officially Christmas. “Merry Christmas,” I echoed quietly, the box beside the clock mocking me.
I yawned again, this one more forced than the last. “I better get some sleep. I’ll be lucky if Rachel lets me sleep past five.”
“Yikes. Lucky for me, Grace and Preston sleep like the dead. I’ll probably be up before either of them.”
“I have no idea what that would feel like.”
“Get some rest. I’ll talk to you later?”
“Of course. Goodnight, Skylar.”
“Night,” she said softly and disconnected the call.
I slid down the bed and tugged the comforter over my head as sleep pulled me under, my last conscious thought of Skylar having fish for Christmas dinner.
The next morning went exactly as expected. Rachel flew into my room, pouncing on the bed like the little freak she was. I couldn’t be angry with her, no more than normal, since this was something she’d done for as long as I could remember. I groggily rolled out of bed, barely steady on my feet, before a Santa hat was planted on my head and Rachel
was pulling me out of the room. I stumbled forward, cursing, as my foot caught on the corner of the rug.
“Smile!” Drew yelled. I jerked upright, the flash from his camera momentarily blinding me.
“Damn, guys,” I choked. “Give me a second to get my shit together before you ambush me.”
“Oh, hush. Get a move on,” Rachel laughed.
We spent most of the morning opening gifts and hanging out. It was just like Christmases before, but without the tension of Terri’s presence. As things started to calm down, I became all too aware that I was the only one alone. It made me think of Skylar, wonder what she was doing. Was she opening gifts? Eating breakfast? Or did she have other traditions for Christmas morning? But most of all, I thought about how much I missed her.
Talking to her like I had over the last few days, just relaxing and letting whatever happened happen, had to be one of the stupidest things I’d ever done. And that was saying something these days. Because now…now, I was way more attached than I was a month, even a week ago.
As the next few days faded into one another, I felt my mood darken. I tried to stay engaged with my family, but Mom wasn’t fooled. I’d catch her looking at me, concern etched in her features. What could I say? Hey, Mom, sorry to be such a killjoy. I’m just a little fucked up over the fact that I’m going to break up with my fake girlfriend in a couple days. Yeah, not likely. And Skylar? She wasn’t stupid either, but she also wasn’t here to read my expression or see my face, so I was able to play it off that I’d come down with something. It was New Year’s Eve when I finally broke.
“What do you mean you’re going back to Seattle?” Mom asked in disbelief.
I shoved my clothes into my bag, not bothering to face her. “It means exactly what I said. I’m going home.”
“But what about the party? I don’t understand, Brennan.”
I stopped packing and drew in a deep breath, straightening my shoulders as I faced her. “I have no interest in staying at a party where I’ll sit alone, drinking whiskey and listening to a bunch of old ladies reminisce about when I was a baby and they changed my diapers. No thanks.” I shook my head and turned back to my bags, shoving the rest of my clothes inside and zipping it.
I hefted it onto my shoulder and let my eyes sweep over the room to see if there was anything I’d forgotten. My eyes landed on the box beside my clock, the box holding a charm bracelet for a girl who’d never see it. I clenched my jaw. My entire body tingled like thousands of ants were crawling across my skin, biting and pinching. I shot a glance at Mom, who was also staring at the box. But instead of a clenched jaw, thinned lips, and narrowed eyes like mine, she had a soft smile on her face, her eyes filled with…something.
“You miss her,” she said softly. “You’re going to see Skylar, aren’t you?”
I gaped at her. What the fuck was she talking about?
“Why didn’t you just say you wanted to spend New Year’s with her instead of all this brooding? Everyone would’ve understood.”
Wait. What?
Oh my fuck. It took everything in me not to roll my eyes. She thought I was leaving because I wanted to spend New Year’s with Skylar. If I weren’t wound so tight, I would have laughed. Seeing Skylar was the last thing I wanted to do. Mostly because the next time I saw Skylar would also be the last, and that was something I wanted to prolong as long as possible. I nodded and crossed the room to stand in front of her.
“Sorry I didn’t handle it very well. Thank you for understanding,” I said, wrapping my arms around her. God, I was such a piece of shit.
“Be careful, okay?”
“Yup.”
I walked downstairs and into the living room where Dad, Drew, and Rachel were hanging the final decorations. They looked at me with matching expressions, which I assumed meant they’d already discussed their own theories as to why I was leaving. Whatever. They could believe what they wanted. As long as it got me out of this house without a confrontation, I was fine.
“Drive safe,” Dad said, pulling me into a hug.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, caught off guard by the tightness of his embrace and his whispered words that he loved me against my ear.
“Have fun, bro,” Drew said, bumping his fist against mine.
I nodded as Rachel stepped away from Drew and threw her arms around my neck. “I hate you so much for leaving me with all these old people and their prune-juice-stained teeth,” she whispered, causing me to bark out a laugh.
She stepped back, a devilish grin on her face before adding, “Have fun, Stalker.”
My mouth dropped open as she doubled over laughing. It seemed Rachel and Skylar had gotten much cozier than I’d realized. Fantastic.
Drew looked between the two of us. “Stalker?”
“You can explain that one,” I said, pointing at Rachel. “I’ve got to go.” I was almost out the door when Mom yelled my name and came running down the stairs.
“Here,” she said, thrusting a box into my hand. The box. “You forgot this.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, not thankful at all. I’d left it on purpose so I wouldn’t be tempted to give it to Skylar. Not that she wouldn’t throw it right back in my face as soon as I broke things off. I suddenly felt nauseated. I had to get out of here before they noticed and tried to convince me to stay.
I spun on my heel and walked to my car, throwing my bag in the back seat. As soon as I pulled onto the highway, I let out the emotions I’d held inside the past week. I cursed, yelled, and punched the steering wheel until the skin over my knuckles split and warm blood ran down my hand. By the time I reached our apartment, it was already dark, which suited my mood perfectly. The hours alone had done nothing for my state of mind. The more I thought about breaking up with Skylar, of not seeing her again, the sicker I felt.
I pushed through the front door and walked straight to the kitchen, pulling down the first bottle of liquor I found. It didn’t matter what it was as long as it dulled and blurred the edges, made me forget. That was all I gave a fuck about. I moved to the living room and dropped onto the couch, my bag landing on the floor beside me, the box shoved into the side pocket mocking me. I hadn’t told Skylar I was coming back to Seattle early. If she knew, would she have come back as well? I felt that all-too-familiar flip in my stomach when I thought about having her here, with me.
I twisted the top off the bottle and tilted it up, the liquid leaving a trail of fire in its wake as it traveled down my throat. I slid my eyes shut as I tipped it back once more, taking two long pulls before slamming the bottom against my thigh and coughing. Images flashed through my mind like a movie reel, the first time we met, our first date, kiss, the first time I touched her. I groaned and dropped my head to the back of the couch as I tried to block out the more intimate details. But the memories kept coming, our coffee dates, meeting her father, her family, my family. How had I let her into every part of my life so carelessly? I was supposed to be in control. I was supposed to do a lot of things that never happened—and never would.
The warmth from the alcohol began to spread through my body as I slackened my hand around the bottle. I grabbed the remote and flipped on the television; the constant silence left too much space in my head. I had no idea how long I’d been on the couch, only that the almost-full bottle now sat empty on my coffee table and something, somewhere, was pounding like a jackhammer. I sat up, my bleary eyes squinting at the clock that read 11:15. Fuck, why was I awake?
The pounding started again, and I realized someone was knocking. I stood from the couch, sliding my hand along the wall as I stumbled to the front door. I jerked it open, having no idea who would be banging on the door this time of night, on New Year’s Eve no less.
“Jesus, Brennan, are you okay?” Skylar asked, her eyes wide.
I blinked. Skylar? Skylar. What was Skylar doing at my door? And why did I care? She was here. I reached out and pulled her into the apartment, my lips crashing against hers as I hugged her so fucking tight. She pushed against
my shoulders until I loosened my grip a little, but only just. She had her brows pulled down as she darted her eyes around my face, looking for what, I had no idea.
“Why are you drunk?” she asked, pushing my hair away from my face.
“I’m ringing in the new year,” I slurred, my tongue swollen, thick.
“Alone?”
“Not anymore.”
“Why didn’t you call to tell me you were coming home?” she asked, leading me to the couch.
“Because I don’t want us to break up,” I answered honestly. She stopped walking, causing me to bump into her back. Her shoulders were stiff, her movements slow as she moved to face me.
“Why would we break up?”
“Because I’m a shitty boyfriend,” I said, looking her straight in the eye.
Confusion was clear on her face, and she opened and closed her mouth a few times, obviously unsure of how to respond to my confession. “Let me rephrase that,” she said, taking a step away from me. “Are you breaking up with me?”
Like a veil had been lifted, my mind cleared, and I realized what I’d said. She stared at me unblinking, her expression unreadable, while I stood silently in front of her, scrambling for words.
“Skylar, I—”
She shook her head, shooting out her hand in front of her. “Don’t. I don’t need excuses. I don’t want excuses. I don’t understand what happened, but I’ve learned in the past that knowing the answers doesn’t change the outcome.” She wouldn’t look at me, her eyes focused over my shoulder, on the front door.
“What?” Panic shot through my body. What had I done? She was leaving? No. She couldn’t leave. Yes. Yes, this was what I wanted. She needed to leave. It was done, and I didn’t even have to say anything.