by Vivian Lux
"Oh you know what I mean, Mary," my mother snapped. I grinned at my sister, and she nodded slightly before getting up from the dining room table. We may fight like cats and dogs, but at least we had the silent agreement that comes with being sisters exasperated with our parents.
I snapped the book shut. "I'm going to my room," I announced to no one in particular.
"Bring that coffee cup down when you're done with it," my mother reminded me.
"I know, I know." But she was right. I had a collection up there. It's a bad habit I couldn't seem to break. Unlike coffee cups, of which I had broken three already. I needed to stop shoving them onto my cluttered little nightstand when I was done with them.
Flopping onto my bed, I made a half-hearted attempt to open my notebooks. But I was too caught up in everything around me. Suddenly burning hot, I pulled off my pajama top and slipped into a tank top. The heat felt like it was on too high. My whole body was prickly and crawly with sweat.
Just as I was working up my nerve to ask about the thermostat, I heard a knock on my door. Four aggressive taps. It was Sarah.
Her hair was hanging in her face today, the million different dye jobs leaving it the murkiest of blacks. Her ever-present eyeliner was already in place, though I guessed she hadn't been awake for more than fifteen minutes. Maybe she slept with it. I wouldn't know. She was hardly ever here.
"Can I borrow your black boots?" she asked in a dull monotone, as if the prospect of even saying six words to me drained her of her energy.
"Where are you going?"
"Out."
I hear the sound of a motor outside, revving and grinding its gears. She tossed her hair and snatched the black boots from my hand and tore down the stairs.
I braced myself.
My father's roar was deafening. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Out!" Sarah shouted back with far more energy than she could muster for me.
"Like hell you are! It's a fucking state of emergency!"
"Kevin! Language!" my mom shouted over them both from back in the kitchen.
I heard a pause. And then a loud snort from Sarah. "This is a free country," she announced, playing her trump card early. "I can do what I want."
"Don't you dare, young lady!"
My mother's voice entered living room and I could see her in my mind's eye, looking out front window and crossing her arms. "I don't recognize that car, Sarah Rose. Who are you going with? Why does it need to be today?" She was practically whining.
"You're not the boss of me!" Sarah shouted and then the whole house vibrated with the sonic boom of her door slam.
This must have finally roused my father from the couch, because I heard him at the front door. "I will report this!" he roared out the door. "I will have you busted for underaged drinking, so help me god I will! Don't test me young lady, don't you dare try to test me..."
But the revving of a motor and the spinning sound of tires on ice drowned out his threats. The car found purchase and drove slowly away.
There was a moment of blessed, shocked silence.
Mary poked her head out from her bedroom and called to me from across the hallway. "She got away with it. Can you believe it? That little brat!"
"Wait, listen." I held up my hand and we both heard the noise of my mother crying dramatically, the muffled sound of it telling me that she was clutching at my father's robe. She would stay like that until his whole front was wet with her tears.
"She only gets away with it because she's the baby," Mary remarked. "You and me, if we tried that...?"
"Ooof," I agreed. At thirteen I was still a little mommy. Rebelling like that was inconceivable then. It was inconceivable now.
I looked back into my tiny room, frustrated with myself. Why was it inconceivable? Sarah had just gone about it the wrong way. Why should I, a grown woman of nineteen, not be allowed to leave the house when I chose?
If I didn't get out, I might go insane. The walls were already threatening to close in on me. I gathered my books and shoved them into my bag, then quickly dressed and pulled my hair back in a headband. I hadn't showered and I stank like coffee, but I was willing to overlook this lapse in personal hygiene for a chance at escape.
My parents were still clutching each other as I came down the stairway and froze. Shit, bad timing.
"Where do you think you're going?" My father's voice was low and dangerous.
I gulped and found my voice, hoping it sounded steady. "I need to go to the library. It's finals, I need to study."
"You can study here, the roads are closed unless it's an emergency. The mayor said so."
I rolled my eyes. "I know Dad, I was right there when he did, remember?" I wasn't really invested in leaving before, but now I was. "It is an emergency, I have to make my grades."
"You can study here," my mother piped up from my father's chest.
"You let Sarah go out." It felt cheap, but it needed to be said,
"I didn't let her, and she's going to have hell to pay when she gets home."
"But I'm nineteen and in college, you need to let me make my own decisions."
"Stop being dramatic, Alexandra." Mom pulled back from my father and sighed. She rolled her eyes and that was it, the argument was done.
I ran stomping upstairs, aware of being dramatic, but I couldn’t help myself. This was like being in high school all over again. I was a grown woman but I still lived the life of a teenager. I needed to cut free, break loose.
I grabbed my phone and checked it. Ingrid's number was right there, tantalizing me. My thumb hovered over the call button several moments before I finally made my decision.
Chapter 13
Case
Case looked out of the tiny, second floor window and out onto the snow covered street below. Buried cars were humped along each side of the road. A few intrepid souls had tried to forge through the snow with their 4x4s, leaving two deep, rutted tire tracks for the cars that came behind them.
"Well, fuck," he sighed.
Crash was rifling through cabinets. "I don't have much," he called, his voice muffled inside an open cupboard. "Ah, here it is."
Case turned to see him triumphantly beaming, holding an ancient jar of instant coffee. "Whatever, as long as its hot and caffeinated."
Crash slammed a chipped mug into the microwave and pressed several buttons. "You want sugar? I got that too. But no milk or shit, it goes bad too quickly."
"Black is fine."
Crash nodded and opened the microwave before it was done cooking, too impatient to wait. He slopped the heaping mounds of crystals into the steaming mug as carefully as he drove his pick-up.
"Here, get your own damn sugar." Crash handed him the too hot mug, and Case had to set it down quickly to avoid scalding himself. He sniffed it and wrinkled his nose. Once he located a clean spoon, he dumped three heaping tablespoons of sugar into the bitter brew.
He lifted it hesitantly to his lips. The first sip confirmed what he had suspected from the smell. It tasted awful. But it was warm and it was coffee and so he kept sipping as he watched the plows go by.
"How'd your girl get home last night?" He didn't really care, but felt like he needed to make conversation. After all, Crash had let him sleep here the night so he wouldn't have to find a way back to the clubhouse in the storm. Even though Crash was his brother, he still felt awkward and he wished J. was here.
"Beats me." Crash laughed and lit a cigarette.
Case's nostrils twitched. The smell of tobacco made him flinch, the bad memories threatening to take him over once more. He smoked, but only occasionally, and he hated the smell on others. It reminded him too much of both his mother and fear.
He shifted on the couch, trying discreetly to move out of range. He wasn't sure if Crash saw him or if he just got bored by Case's inane conversation, because he suddenly wandered away from the kitchen and into his room, scratching has ass through his boxers. Case was almost ready to drift back into his reverie when he hear
d Crash's shout of laughter from the bedroom.
"Aw how sweet, she left her number!" Crash appeared in the doorway holding a piece of paper, and his eyes looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'd hit that again," he said appraisingly.
Case thought of the girl with the brown eyes. He would definitely never see her again. But he'd like to see a girl who looked like her once more.
He needed to get out of this slump. He'd been banging bored housewives for too long and, true to their nature, they were boring. He suddenly found himself way more interested Crash's lifestyle that he was previously. "You gonna see her again?"
"Yeah, sure, she was a screamer, I like that." Crash's smile was lopsided as he licked his lips. "Usually go for the Latina ladies though. I love my senoritas." He leaned against the doorway, favoring his bad leg. "Lusty Latin firecrackers, man oh man, I had this one chick, I swear she could cum like a freight train. I just wanted to stay in that pussy all day, crawl up inside and live there. I tell you, she shaved herself bare except for this little dark tuft, holy shit man, I wish you could have seen it...."
As Crash waxed poetic about the Latinas of his past, Case turned back to the window and tuned him out. Even though the sun was out, the snow was still falling lightly from the clear sky. Case wondered how the heck that could be happening. "How're we gonna get back to the clubhouse?" he wondered suddenly.
Crash interrupted his monologue. "Beats me, and who cares? It's finals week at Temple, the bitches are in the mood to party. And we're right in the prime location."
Case nodded and considered. The rest of the club always ragged on Crash for his pussy chasing ways, but J. wasn't paying attention anymore, and hanging out with the old dudes was depressing as fuck. He felt guilty thinking that about Mac, but there was no denying that the man was getting older. His life was catching up with him hard. The strong silent man who had taken him in seven years ago was getting racked more and more by the cough. He spent his days in the clubhouse, silently drinking and mourning the woman who left him twenty-five years ago.
Maybe it was the cold that brought back the memory. Maybe it was the fact that today was Hunter's birthday, just like it had been that day when he had pounded on Mac's door. Mac still had the house back then, before he had moved completely into the clubhouse. Back then he was still holding onto the memory of his wife, unable to let go of the house they had shared in happier times.
And the Case was grateful for it. The house on the corner with too many trees in the front yard, shading it from the view of the passersby, was where he had ended up desperately pounding on the door that bitterly cold afternoon.
When Mac had answered the door and saw the shaggy haired kid shivering on his porch with his toes stuffed into too small shoes, he hadn't said anything. But he knew exactly what Case needed. It was too embarrassing to go to her house, even though she tried so hard to care for him. Better to go to the grizzled old vet who kept to himself and seemed like he could keep a secret.
That evening, Mac had fed the boys without comment. Case watched from the corner and shook his head when Mac held out his offering of Hamburger Helper, but Case wanted to wait until the younger boys had their fill. Their ribs were sticking out alarmingly. He was big and strong for a fourteen year old. He could drink water to curb his appetite. At least that hadn't been turned off yet, unlike the heat.
When Mac asked him if he wanted to tell him where he got that shiner, Case pressed his lips together and shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest and refusing to meet Mac's eyes. It was Dom, Mother's most recent boyfriend. After Case watched him beat his mom without moving, Dom went on to try to hit Hunter. Once his little brother was threatened, Case had immediately jumped in. Dom had clocked him, knocking him backwards over the couch.
"No, I don't want to talk about it
"Well, it's your business." Mac replied, and went on preparing a second helping of dinner. When he was done he slid a plate over to Case. Case tried to hold back. He didn't want to show how hungry he was but once the first forkful hit his lips, he inhaled it like a vacuum. Pausing to look up from his plate for a second, he saw that Jonah and Hunter were laughing and pink cheeked for the first since Mother had stormed out after Dom and left them alone in the freezing house. It helped Case's heart, to see them looking happy. The tight anxiety that was ever present in his daily life eased slightly. He felt like he could maybe trust this man. Maybe. Or at least try to trust.
Slowly he turned to where Mac sat, his fist closed around an open can of beer.
"Can I ask you something?" He tried to keep his voice from wavering.
Mac inclined his head slightly.
"Do you know anywhere I could find a job?"
Mac was silent so long he wondered if he hadn't heard him. Case felt suddenly nervous. This was revealing too much. A fourteen-year-old shouldn't be holding a job, he should be in school, hanging out with his friends, enjoying his youth. Not worrying about providing for two smaller children. This was the kind of attention he always tried to avoid. How stupid could he be in bringing the focus onto their home life? Why had he opened his mouth? Why had he broken down? The food didn't taste good anymore. He pushed his plate back.
"You know anythin' 'bout being a mechanic?" Mac was looking at him steadily.
Case felt a flutter in his chest. He had no idea, of course, but he had done enough jerry-rigged repairs around the house that he felt he was justified in lying.
"Sure I do.'
"Then yeah, I think I do."
Case imitated Mac's abbreviated nod. He didn't want to betray how excited he felt. There was a sense of relief in having finally having an adult watch over them. The burden on his shoulders eased slightly as he watched Mac move around his kitchen with a cigarette in his mouth, dumping food from cans into a battered old saucepan. The cigarette didn't turn Case's stomach like his mother's sour menthols.
Two weeks. This has been the longest she'd been gone yet. He hoped she would stay away for good now.
Chapter 14
Lexi
I was so grateful to be out of the house that I left way earlier than I needed to for my first class. The storm had left the world sparkling and new in the crisp cold. The approach of the holidays had everyone in the neighborhood happy and shouting about how it would definitely be a white Christmas.
I drove down Kelly Drive, wending my way past the sculptures and towards the glistening glass buildings of Center City that reflected the puffy clouds and blue sky. It was above freezing and the steady drip-drip of icicles rained down on me as I crossed under the roofs of the campus buildings to find my way to the library.
I pulled my books out of my bag and found my notebook. My American History exam was still scheduled for tomorrow. No respite for yesterday being a snow day. But I didn't care. I was as prepared as I could ever be. Instead of my usual flurry of worry, I instead leafed mindlessly through my notebook, not seeing the scrawled handwriting at all.
Looking out of the windows and into the freshly scrubbed world made me antsy. I looked down to see my legs were wiggling, in the way that drove my father crazy. He was always yelling at me to just sit still. When I was little it was cute to be called "Wiggles", but as I got older, I was expected to be a proper lady. And proper ladies sit still.
Casey was the only person I had ever met who seemed wound up more tightly than I was.
I sat back in my chair, not seeing the outside world anymore. Instead, my mind took me back to that ride on the 27 bus to Center City, on one of the few times my parents had allowed me to go out alone with him. As we sat next to each other in the cramped seats, we bounced our legs in unison. Pressing my leg up against his felt nice in way that I couldn't explain. It was like we were joined somehow. Our silent shimmying made me feel closer to him than words ever could.
When we were close. The thought made me blink rapidly as tears pricked the corners of my eyes. Those golden moments were gone now. The secrets we had shared sitting in my room together, with the
door wide open to appease my mother's nosy nervousness. He knew everything about me back then. My deepest heart. My darkest fears. Talking to Casey made everything makes sense, and I loved him for it. Loved him as deeply and as completely as my fourteen year-old heart could manage.
But in all my love, I hadn't noticed what was there in front of my face from the very beginning. I had selfishly used his love as a crutch, as a blanket to wrap myself. Never heeding the warning signs that he was in pain.
As close as we were, he never let me in his house. I knew he had brothers but I was never allowed to meet them more than just in passing. They were more like knobby-kneed, blond little ghosts, regarding me solemnly and warily from the shadows. He was the oldest of three boys and I was the oldest of three girls. I found that symmetry pleasing intellectually, but in my heart I knew something was desperately wrong.
I shook my head and ripped my gaze from the window, unwilling to think these thoughts any longer. I turned back to my notebook, stared for a moment, then reached into my bag for my phone. I would study for one hour, I resolved. One hour and then I would allow myself to go get some more coffee.
The minute I bent my head back to my notebook, my phone vibrated. I grabbed it, feeling relieved to be distracted from the studying I had barely even started. I gasped slightly when I saw that Ingrid had texted me back.
"Sorry! Just got this. You around campus?"
"In library," I replied, fingers flying furiously. Excitement bubbled in my chest. When she hadn't answered my text last night, I had given up, telling myself that she had finally had enough of my wishy-washy nervousness. But it seemed I was wrong.
I bounced a little. I couldn't help it. Today was going to be the day. Today I would take Ingrid up on her offer to go out. Just for a little while, something to relieve the pressure of exams, I vowed. Though, if I was honest with myself, I had barely studied at all.