Burning Britely

by Deidre Huesmann

  Who spoke about their own mother like that?

  The question must have been all over his face, because Brenda narrowed her eyes. “Don’t judge me. You can hear that, can’t you?”

  Jeff said nothing. The crashes and yelling spoke volumes.

  Brenda glanced down at Bryce, who was still lost in his music. Her voice softened. “You can tell he doesn’t have the same dad.”

  He could. He wasn’t going to say it.

  “Dad knows, obviously. But Bryce’s bio-dad is such a festering butthole that he took Dad’s offer without even thinking twice.”

  “Offer?”

  She lifted a hand in a shrug and let it fall back down to the blanket. “Take twenty grand and let Dad sign the birth certificate or sue for visitation and get no money at all.”

  Jeff folded his arms and looked away. The back of his head tingled. He didn’t like this, didn’t want to have this conversation.

  And yet … Brenda clearly did. Or else she wouldn’t speak to an asshole like him.

  “That was nice of you.”

  It took him a moment to realize she was talking about the headphones. “Not really.”

  Brenda eyed him critically. “You’re uncomfortable. Everyone is when they hear it. But not everyone gives Bryce the headphones.”

  Jeff looked down at his socked feet.

  “So, thanks.” She rubbed a hand over Bryce’s side. “Maybe you’re not a total asshole.”

  He couldn’t tell her she was welcome, because he hadn’t really done anything. And he was terrible at providing comfort, that much was for certain. So Jeff continued to say nothing. He just let her talk if she felt like it. And he listened.

  The shouting finally stopped. An eerie, tense silence wound around them, stifling the bedroom air, constricting Jeff’s brain. He felt light-headed and nauseas.

  Then the door opened.

  Braeden took one look at them, then at Bryce. The harsh lines along his brow smoothed, his scrunched mouth easing out into a pliable line. He nodded once at Brenda, who took off the headphones and said, “Let’s go, Bumble Bee.”

  Bryce nodded and looked at Jeff. He offered a tentative smile. “Thanks for the music,” he said in that gentle, slurred voice.

  “Sure,” said Jeff.

  Braeden watched his siblings leave. He closed the door and sank backward into his chair, resting his head in his arms on the backrest.

  Questions inundated Jeff. He wanted to prod. Ask. Inquire. He wanted to find out what in the hell had happened, how Braeden lived like this. But he didn’t know how. Not without being a dick.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” said Braeden.

  Well. That solved that problem.

  Jeff cleared his throat and returned to his seat. “Want me to go?”

  Braeden didn’t look up. He shook his head.

  “You sure?”

  A low, deprecating laugh sounded from Braeden’s seat. “You can go if you want. It’s your choice. I don’t give that selfish bitch the satisfaction of catering to her stupid demands.”

  Jeff pondered those words for a moment. “So you lied about her being overprotective of Bryce.”

  Braeden peered up, mouth hidden by his arms, curly hair falling in his eyes. “Sort of. She doesn’t like everyone knowing he’s the result of her affair.”

  Jeff nodded. He was doing a lot of that today.

  “But,” said Braeden, sitting up straight. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not right now, anyway.”

  Jeff could understand that. He wasn’t good at comfort, anyway. He didn’t know the right words, the way to act, how to offer sympathy.

  But he was very, very good at ignoring awkward subjects. He turned back to the textbook laid out on the desk. “Let’s move on to the next problem. We were on number fifteen.”

  Braeden scooted closer, his skin warm within inches if Jeff’s. This time, while Jeff enjoyed it, he took little deep-seated pleasure from it. What Braeden needed wasn’t someone with a crush on him, not right then.

  Braeden needed a distraction. All Jeff could do in the moment was help him in the only way he knew how.

  Chapter Seven

  When Jeff stuffed his notes into his backpack, Braeden stood. “You want a ride home?”

  Yes. Of course he did. Yet Jeff’s mouth betrayed him. “No. I can walk.”

  “Mind if I walk with you?”

  His tongue was already forming the word, ready to deny at the drop of a hat, yet the question made him pause longer than normal. Braeden was chill. Usually. Today Jeff had seen—or rather, heard—another side to him. If Braeden was making a double-offer, there must have been a reason behind it.

  Jeff nodded. “Yeah. That’s cool.”

  On their way down the hall, Braeden knocked on Brenda’s door. She popped it open a crack. They muttered back and forth before she closed the door again. A similar scene played out at Bryce’s room. Jeff kept what he hoped was a polite distance and looked over his shoulder.

  No sign of Mrs. Britely. Not a peep.

  Finally, Braeden closed Bryce’s door and said, “Ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  They left. Outside had warmed up, oddly enough, even though the sky had begun to darken. Spring was gradually giving way to summer. The wet air was drying, ready to bloom into a muggy heat. Braeden would graduate, and Jeff would double down on his studies, start applying for scholarships. Life would stay the course. Nothing would change except for a new Braeden-sized hole in his life.

  Braeden said little as they walked. He just kept his hands in his pockets and his face forward. His eyes were distant, like his mind was on another planet.

  Jeff barely felt his earthly presence.

  At about the halfway point, Braeden said, “Sorry about all that.”

  Jeff scratched his jaw, not wanting to meet his gaze. He almost said, It’s okay, but the sentiment was meaningless. “Brenda says that happens about twice a week.”

  “Something like that,” admitted Braeden. “Thanks for helping Bryce, by the way. You didn’t have to.”

  Jeff fiddled with his shoulder straps. “I probably made it worse.”

  “How d’you think?”

  “I’m not good with kids. To be honest, I don’t even like them.”

  “I couldn’t tell.” Braeden kicked a rock. It skittered down the sidewalk before veering off sharply into the street. “He likes you well enough. Says you seem nice.”

  “Oh.”

  “I trust his judgment.” A car whizzed past them, well over the 35MPH speed limit. It tousled Jeff’s hair. When he looked up, Braeden’s curls had finally fallen into his face. He shoved them back. “Nothing’s more innocent than a kid. Especially Bryce. I might be biased, though.”

  Jeff didn’t think so. He considered saying so, but thought about it too long. By then, the moment had passed.

  He glanced over at the track star, took in his unusually somber appearance. Braeden’s proud shoulders were drooping, his walk less confident than usual. Like a man beaten in battle.

  “Can I ask you something about him?”

  Braeden shot him a bemused look. “About his dad, right?” When Jeff said nothing, Braeden smiled. “It’s okay. Anyone who meets him gets curious.”

  Jeff hoped it was simply that, and not that he was too easy to read. Otherwise, he’d be in trouble sooner rather than later. “He’s not in the picture? The dad, I mean.”

  Grimacing, Braeden said, “Yeah. Not his fault, though. He’s a good dude.”

  Jeff raised an eyebrow.

  “He didn’t just bail.” Braeden kicked another rock. “He tried to be there for Bryce, really did. Mom swore up and down she’d leave Dad for him and they could start a new family. The poor sap loved her.” His expression twisted in disgust. “I don’t know how, but that woman has a way of getting men to buy into her bullshit.”

  How odd that Braeden and Brenda had differing opinions on the man.

  “Anyway, Dad obviously found out. Sc
reamed at her for days. You thought it was bad today—it used to be way worse.”

  Jeff nodded.

  “Dad said if she left him, she was screwed, ‘cause she’d signed a pre-nup. And with her drug history and his lawyers, he’d get full custody of everybody. She’d get nothing. Might even owe him child support. So she broke things off with Bryce’s dad.” He sighed. “He didn’t have a chance. He was dirt poor. Figured the best chance his son would have was with the ‘rich and illustrious’ Britelys.” He used his fingers for quotation marks. “Maybe he was right in some ways. But nobody had a choice. Dad always holds all the cards, even when he’s not around.”

  “I see.”

  Braeden shrugged and flashed a wry smile. “That’s about it, really. I see him around once in a while—Bryce’s dad, I mean—and if I can, I let him know how he’s doing. Show him pictures if I got my phone on me. Stuff like that.” He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling the curls even further. “Dad would disown me if he knew.”

  Jeff considered that for a moment. “I think it’s worth it.”

  Braeden grinned, though his eyes weren’t in on it. “Me, too.”

  A couple more blocks went by in silence. Then Jeff pointed. “I got to stop at the gas station for a minute.”

  “I’ll wait outside,” offered Braeden.

  “Your call.”

  Jeff stepped in. He looked back through the window and saw Braeden making conversation with a man in well-worn clothes out front. He really can talk to anyone.

  Once he paid for the strawberry jelly and put it in his backpack, Jeff met up with Braeden, who was now alone. “It’s not far from here, man. You don’t have to stay.”

  Braeden shook his head. “I’m not ready to go back yet.”

  Jeff nodded, once. They continued on, but once they passed a wall of bushes splitting the gas station from the next neighborhood, Braeden stopped him. He looked down apologetically. “Sorry, dude. Just wait a minute, yeah?”

  Perplexed, Jeff agreed. Braeden didn’t say anything, just stood there with his hands in his pockets. Jeff didn’t know what to do. What was happening. What was going on. So he shoved his hands in his pockets and waited, uneasy.

  Finally, the acrid smell of old cigarettes wafted toward them. The man Braeden had spoken to earlier approached and slapped something into Braeden’s hand. “Here ya go,” he said.

  Braeden inclined his head. “Appreciate it, man.”

  “No problem. Just get going.”

  Jeff watched the exchanged, even more confused. Braeden started walking, and with his long strides, Jeff had to jog to catch up with him. It didn’t take long to figure out what had happened—not when Braeden extracted a cigarette from a brand-new pack. He dug into his pockets and pulled out a lighter.

  Jeff stared.

  Braeden didn’t look at him, though his mouth curled. “I know.”

  “Dude…”

  “I know. Don’t start.”

  Jeff clamped his mouth shut. Something in his gut sank.

  Braeden took a deep drag, held it for a few moments, then sighed out a plume of smoke. “You’re thinking I’m a hypocrite. Yelling at my mom then going and smoking.”

  Jeff said nothing.

  “I probably am.”

  Jeff said nothing. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and tried not to inhale too much of the second-hand smoke. All the while, facts shuffled through his brain. Addictive. Poison. Cancer. Death.

  Braeden held the cigarette between two fingers. It dangled like he did it every day. Which was particularly odd, because Jeff hadn’t noticed the smell before. Not on his clothes, not in his room.

  “How often?” he asked quietly.

  Braeden used his thumb to scratch his chin. “Only when someone’s willing. I’m still underage.”

  “No shit.”

  Braeden shrugged. “Fifty bucks minus the pack means a lot to some people.”

  Jeff looked down at his shoes. His backpack seemed strangely heavy. He spoke quietly. “I’m not going to preach at you.”

  “Good.” Braeden’s words were curt, but his voice gentle. “Every ex has tried. No one’s been successful yet. I appreciate when I’m not being told what to do.” He took a drag. “Figure I get enough of that at home.”

  Jeff rubbed his mouth. Said nothing. Stared at the sidewalk.

  Then, he said, “You can quit, though. Once you move out.”

  Braeden laughed. It was a bitter, heart-wrenching sound. “Move out? No way.”

  Jeff frowned. He still couldn’t look at him.

  Braeden must have realized how he’d sounded, because his voice softened again. “I can’t, dude. Not for a long time. Brenda’s got to get out of there, first. She can’t handle Mom. And someone has to look after Bryce. He’ll never be able to defend himself against her, not even emotionally.”

  Jeff winced. He wanted to argue against it but also knew, deep down, this was not something Braeden said lightly. He had to have considered it: leaving, running away, getting out of the shouting matches with his mother and from under the oppressing thumb of his father.

  “It’s not the money,” said Braeden.

  “Never thought it was.”

  Braeden nodded and put out the cigarette. Jeff’s muscles relaxed at the sight. “I can’t leave Bumble Bee. Can’t, man.”

  Jeff said nothing. He just kept walking, grateful Braeden had slowed his pace to match.

  “You still mind tutoring me?”

  Jeff could see the sign for his street. Here was the crossroad. He could say no, and Braeden would probably leave him alone forever. He wouldn’t have to contend with these feelings. Eventually, he’d get over him.

  But then Braeden would leave him alone. Forever.

  The only price to pay was dealing with his dysfunctional family until they split ways naturally.

  Jeff shook his head. “No. I don’t mind.”

  Braeden nodded. If he was relieved, it didn’t show.

  They stopped at the entrance to Jeff’s neighborhood. Braeden gave him a lopsided grin. “Thanks for letting me talk.”

  “Yeah,” murmured Jeff.

  “I’ll see you around? We’ll hash out another date.”

  Any other day, the words might have made Jeff blush. Now, his mind was in a perpetual loop. Stuck thinking. Whirling, considering, weighing.

  Braeden turned to go.

  “Wait.”

  Braeden stopped. He didn’t turn around.

  Jeff drew in a deep breath. “You can’t stay in that house forever, man. It’s not…”

  “Healthy.” Braeden’s back was so broad. The falling sun cast orange hues over his yellow shirt.

  “Yeah.”

  Braeden sighed and turned halfway. “I told you—”

  “I know. Brenda gets out, first. And you can’t leave Bryce.”

  Braeden nodded.

  Jeff set his jaw. His fists tightened. “You can’t help Bryce by staying there, either. You’ve got to make a plan.”

  Confusion split Braeden’s face. He finally looked at Jeff, eyebrows drawn. “Like what?”

  “Like college. Get a decent degree. Then get a good job. So you can get them out of there.”

  Braeden blinked a few times. He coughed and then lowered his head. His shoulders quaked, and it took Jeff an extra moment to realize he was stifling a laugh.

  Stiffly, Jeff said, “Why’s that funny?”

  “It—no, it’s not.” Braeden covered his mouth, his eyes crinkled. Once he seemed to regain his composure, he lowered his arm. “It’s not, I swear. It’s just…” This time, he didn’t bother hiding his smile. Until he did, Jeff hadn’t realized how many hours had passed since he’d seen a genuine one.

  “Everyone’s always trying to tell me what to do about it,” said Braeden. “Move out. Get away. Call CPS. You’re the first one to tell me to go to college.”

  Jeff folded his arms. “I find that hard to believe. You run track. You can get a good scholarship.”
>
  “Yeah, out of town.” Braeden sighed. “Away from Brenda and Bryce. Where I can’t protect them.”

  Jeff lowered his eyes. He turned that over in his head, let it sit, then turned it again. He licked his lips. “There’s a community college here.”

  Braeden tilted his head.

  “You can get in there. Do some basic classes, at least to start. Take the time to figure out what you want to major in, go from there.” Jeff had been researching colleges since his freshman year. He knew what they expected, what they could do, how they worked. He needed to; needed that edge on any competition. “It’s not a lot, but it’ll keep you around without jeopardizing your future.”

  Braeden made a noise in his throat. Agreement? Maybe?

  Jeff stepped closer to him. For once, he was determined to look Braeden directly in the eye. “I’ll help.”

  Braeden’s head jerked up.

  “I’ll help you study. What’s your GPA?”

  Braeden hesitated. “Three-point-one.”

  That wasn’t bad. Not great, but not bad. Jeff’s brain was working well before he thought about it. This was comforting. A problem to solve, an equation, one with variables, but with inevitable conclusions. “We can work with that. Community college isn’t as strict about your high school GPA. And you test in, anyway.”

  “I guess so,” said Braeden, slowly.

  “So I’ll help. For now, with this algebra class.” Jeff shifted his backpack. “Then we can work on everything else. Namely the basics. Make sure you test in as high as possible. It’ll help so you’re not wasting time on rudimentary classes that will put off your degree.”

  A small smile twitched on Braeden’s lips.

  “So?” Jeff gripped the straps of his back until his nails bit into his palms. “What do you say?”

  Braeden eyed him. “What do you want in return?”

  You. Everything about you. Just keeping you close is payment enough.

  Jeff shrugged. “Snacks would be nice. We’ll need them if we have to cram this summer, anyway.”

  Braeden let out a good, strong laugh. He clapped Jeff on the shoulder, his eyes glittering. Green like sparklers, like a wintry spring, like life. “You’re a cheap date.”