Combative

by Jay McLean

  “You don't wanna go home?”

  “Are you kicking me out?”

  I shrug again. “Just don't want to take up all of your time.”

  “I can't imagine a better way to spend my time.”

  I drop my gaze to the floor, my cheeks warming with my blush.

  “So?” he asks.

  I stare at his feet. And then I inhale sharply and muster the courage to look up at him and say, “Your place or mine?”

  He smiles.

  Stupid dimples.

  ***

  The lights are off. A show about renovating houses is on. We're sitting on my couch and his leg is touching my leg. I want to move away but I have no room to move. He clears his throat and leans forward, causing his leg to press harder against mine. “So,” I start, and then stop myself when I realize how loud I was. I inhale a calming breath before continuing. “Do you work? I mean I'm sure you work, but what do you do? For work?” It might be possible that I've somehow lost the ability to form complete, proper, sentences.

  “I'm between jobs,” he says, leaning back and throwing his arm behind me. “You?”

  I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of my head. “Kind of the same.”

  “I thought that maybe you'd be in college or something.”

  He's been thinking about me. “No,” I tell him, staring straight ahead.

  “How old are you?”

  I turn to him, eyebrows pinched. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “Twenty-two,” I say confidently, even though I could be wrong.

  He nods, his eyes fixed on mine. “Nice.”

  “Nice?”

  His phone sounds, causing him to sigh loudly before reaching into his pocket. His bites his lip while he checks his phone. Then he looks up at me. “It's been real nice, “. We should do this again sometime, but I have to go.” He's already on his feet before he finishes speaking.

  I walk him to the door.

  Once he's out in the hallway, he turns and looks at me. I wait for him to say something. Nothing comes. He just stares. Then he licks his lips, and starts to move in.

  I panic and shut the door in his face.

  KY

  “What took you so long?” Jackson says when he answers the phone.

  “Sorry. I was preoccupied.”

  “Ky,” he says impatiently.

  “I was just talking to my neighbor.”

  “A girl?”

  “So what if it is?”

  “You can’t be distracted.”

  “Are you serious right now?”

  “I can’t have this shit fuck up...not over some girl. You need to be focused. In control. All the time.” After a pause, he adds, “You know what this assignment means to me.”

  “Maybe you’ve forgotten that Steven was my brother.” I rub my palm across my jaw and throw myself on the couch, trying to tone down my anger. “Look. I get it, Jax. I know that this is important. It’s important to both of us. I know what this means and that’s why I’d never do anything to jeopardize that. You have to trust me, just like I trust you. She’s just a girl. She doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Good,” he says. “Is she hot?”

  I laugh. “It’s ridiculous how hot she is.”

  “Hotter than Ashlee?”

  All air leaves my lungs. “No. She’s better.”

  KY

  Age Sixteen

  “I just don’t understand why he has to follow us everywhere,” Ashlee said.

  I looked over at Jackson sitting on the couch in the living room while the party went on around him. He was on the Xbox with a couple of other guys. I turned back to my girlfriend. “He’s not bothering anyone. He just wants to hang out, what’s the big deal?”

  Her hands flattened against my chest as she kicked off the wall. She rose to her toes, her breath fanning my ear when she said, “I just want some alone time with you. We’ve been together six months, and he’s always around. What happens if I ask you to take me upstairs to fool around? Is he going to come knocking on every door looking for you?”

  I pulled back so I could see her face. She was buzzed but not so out of it that she didn’t know what she was saying. I raised my eyebrows in question.

  She bit her lip and nodded.

  And that was all I needed.

  I grabbed her hand and led her to the back of the couch, where I leaned over and told Jackson exactly where I’d be and what I’d be doing. He nodded, his eyes never leaving the TV.

  Then I led her upstairs to an empty room. She slipped out of her dress and stood there in nothing but her underwear and heels. Goddamn she was sexy. She was the hottest girl in the entire school. Somehow, luck was on my side and she chose me. “Lock the door,” she said.

  I obliged.

  She lay back on the bed, one of her hands going between her legs. “Come here,” she said.

  I again obliged.

  After five minutes of making out and grinding and hands and fingers anywhere and everywhere, she finally said, “Make love to me, Ky.”

  I, of course, obliged.

  ***

  I spent every spare second over the next few months with Ashlee. We’d find ways to sneak around just to have sex. By then, Christine had turned her craft room into my room, so I had my own space. I’d sneak her in while everyone was asleep. Jackson knew, but he would never rat me out.

  The day I turned seventeen; the family took me out to dinner. It was low-key, the way I wanted it. I’d invited Steve, my brother, to join us, but he said he had to work—he’d pick me up after and do something—just the two of us.

  Steve, nineteen at the time, had dropped out of school a while ago. He surfed from one couch to another until his friends finally kicked him out.

  A few weeks after I’d moved in, Christine invited him over for dinner. To say that it was awkward was an understatement. Christine fussed about the entire event—making sure that Steven felt comfortable. I could tell that he tried, but it was hard for him. He’d grown up the way I did, so he wasn’t used to the attention. At some point, he pulled out his wallet and emptied the content on the table. “It’s not much,” he said, “but it should cover Ky’s meals and board for a few weeks. I’ll get more to you later.”

  Christine told him to hush. Jeff told him it wasn’t necessary. I looked on in shock, not knowing what to do. It was more than just an offering from Steve’s end though, and I understood where he was coming from. Especially when I sat with him out on the porch while he had a smoke after dinner. His eyes were fixed on our old house. I say house because it was never a home. Not like it was with the Davis’s. “I’m sorry, Ky,” he said. “I should’ve been there.”

  “You didn’t know,” I told him. “You couldn’t have changed it.”

  He shook his head. “Not just that night. I mean, all the nights before that.” He rubbed his eyes and for the first time in my life I saw my brother as more than just my brother. I saw him as a man. And as a kid. All at once. “I should’ve taken you with me when I left. I just wanted to get out of there so bad that I didn’t—” he broke off with a sigh. “I was so selfish, Ky. And I hate myself for letting this shit happen to you.” He looked up at me, and then to the house behind us where we could hear Christine’s unrestricted laugh. “I’m just glad it worked out for you. It’s not too late to turn your life around. You don’t have to become a statistic, Ky. You can be anything you want now.”

  Steve—he was a good guy—at least to me. To the outside world, however, he was sketchy at best. He spent his time between flipping burgers at a ratty diner downtown and partying hard. By ‘Partying hard’, I meant copious amounts of drugs and alcohol. And even though I was around it my entire life, he still managed to keep that part of himself hidden from me—and I was grateful for that.

  I didn’t need to watch his decline on top of everything else.

  ***

  After hours of waiting for him at home, and numerous unreturned phone
calls, I pushed aside the disappointment and anger and called Ashlee. I needed a release. I knew she was always up for that.

  “Is Steve here?” Christine asked as I passed the living room. Jackson didn’t look up from the TV. I knew he was upset, though he’d never admit it. He wanted to go out for my birthday—even if Steve was involved. Jax saw Steve like the rest of the world did—a nomad with no ambition and no future. But Steve loved me and I loved him. We were blood brothers and nothing could take that away, even him standing me up on my birthday.

  I shook my head slowly and switched focus from Jackson to Christine. “No. I can’t get a hold of him,” I said. “I’m just going to Ashlee’s for a bit, if that’s okay?”

  “Sure, sweetheart. Have fun.” Christine smiled, then rolled her eyes when Jackson scoffed.

  “What? You want to hang out at Ashlee’s? You’re more than welcome,” I offered.

  His eyes snapped to mine—his jaw hanging open.

  I sighed. “Seriously. You can tag along.”

  His face fell. “I’m good, Ky.” He turned his head back to the TV, but his eyes were cast downwards. “Happy birthday,” he muttered.

  Jeff cleared his throat. “We can do something, son,” he said, speaking to Jackson. His gaze flicked to me quickly, and even though it was a split-second, I could see the disappointment.

  Hell, I could feel the disappointment in the entire room.

  Jeff added, “How bout you show me that aura game on the Zbox?”

  Jackson chuckled. Shit, he was such a kid. “Halo, Dad. And Xbox.”

  Christine stood up. “I’ll make some cookies,” she stated, rubbing my arm as she passed me. She lowered her voice, her words meant only for me. “Have a good time, Ky. Be safe.”

  I watched Christine make her way to the kitchen, and Jackson and Jeff move to the Xbox set up under the TV. Jax started to explain what everything was while Jeff listened intently.

  At that moment—there was a part of me that didn’t want to leave...but it would just be out of pity for Jax, and he’d know it. And he’d hate it. So, I stepped out of the house with a smug smile, my body already anticipating the night ahead with Ashlee.

  Ashlee’s parents were away for the weekend. She left the front door unlocked and was already naked in her bed waiting for me.

  We had fucked twice before she told me she was hungry.

  I took her the ratty diner downtown, hoping to find Steve busy and forced to work late so he’d at least have an excuse as to why he stood me up.

  He was there, just not working.

  “This place is disgusting, Ky,” Ashlee whined, her hand gripping my arm extra tight.

  I ignored her and marched up to Steve, who was sitting in a booth with a bunch of other people. His arms were around a girl on either side of him.

  Conversation stopped when I stepped up next to their table. He was the first to look up, his eyes blood-shot, his lids heavy. Most likely from whatever the fuck he’d been taking.

  “Baby bro!” He smiled and threw his hand out for me.

  I smacked it away.

  Two dudes in the booth stood up.

  Steve raised his hand to stop them going any further.

  “We need to get out of here,” Ashlee said.

  I ignored her again.

  “You know I waited for you for hours.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I couldn’t contain my anger anymore. “You, you asshole! You were supposed to pick me up after the family birthday dinner.”

  His face fell. Then he pushed one of the girls out of the booth and stood toe to toe with me. “You know they’re not actually your family, right?”

  I shoved his chest. “And what? You are? Where the fuck have you been the last couple of years? You’ve come around, what? Four times? That’s not fucking enough, Steve!” I scoffed and looked down on him. “Don’t stand there and tell me they’re not my family. They’re here—where the fuck are you?”

  “Fuck you, Kyler,” he growled, shoving me back.

  “No, Steve. Fuck you!”

  Ashlee squealed.

  Steve’s friends got out of the booth.

  I pointed my finger in his face. “You getting fucking high is more important than your own brother? Nice. Real fucking nice! That’s exactly the shit I had to put up with with Mom and Dad. I thought you were different, but you’re just as pathetic and fucked up as they are!”

  He got the first punch in.

  I got the next three.

  We were told to leave.

  We did.

  “You’re such a fucking Neanderthal, Ky,” Ashlee said once we were back in the car. I turned to her, but she was smirking. “It’s kind of hot.”

  We skipped the food and went back to her place, where we repeated the events from earlier that night.

  Halfway through the second round, my phone rang. It was Christine. I ignored it.

  Two minutes later, it rang again. Jax.

  I looked at the time. It was past midnight—past curfew. I switched it to silent. I didn’t want to deal with it. I wanted to forget this shitty night. And Ashlee—she was helping me do that.

  We fell asleep in each other’s arms and didn’t wake till morning. The panic I felt when I initially woke was nothing compared to how I felt when I looked at my phone. Over a hundred missed calls—all from Christine and Jax. The panic increased tenfold when I called Christine to apologize. Her voice was a shaky whisper. “You need to come home, Ky. Right now. It’s Jeff.”

  When I got home, Christine was sitting on the couch, Jackson next to her, holding her hand.

  Christine didn’t even look up when I called out to her. “He’s gone, Ky. Jeff...he’s gone.”

  Jackson wrapped her in his arms.

  He, too, refused to look at me.

  While I was too busy thinking with my dick the night before, Jeff and Jax had set up the Xbox. They’d been playing for a while when one of the controllers died. Jeff went to the store, no more than five minutes away, to buy new batteries.

  He got the batteries, but he never made it home.

  He was T-boned at an intersection by a drunk driver who’d run a red light.

  They barely spoke to me in the three days leading up to the funeral. I saw them leaving once and asked where they were going. Jackson answered— said they were picking out the casket.

  They didn’t ask me to join them.

  I wasn’t even mad.

  Ashlee, being the perfect girlfriend, sat next to me and held my hand the entire funeral. Christine sat on my other side, holding my other hand, and Jackson sat next to her with his arm around her.

  Ashlee went home after the funeral to watch her little sister.

  I felt like a stranger.

  Christine and Jackson cried. A lot. I tried to force myself to cry, but I just couldn’t.

  I carried too much guilt to mourn.

  It should’ve been me in that car.

  If I’d stayed home and hung out with Jackson like I should’ve, it wouldn’t have happened—at least not to Jeff.

  Jeff—he was the greatest man I’d ever known. What other kind of man willingly saves a kid—allows him into his home without question...he went out of his way to make sure I was part of his family. And what the hell did I do to repay him? Nothing.

  Not a goddamn thing.

  After an hour of being invisible, I left and drove to Ashlee’s house.

  It was then I realized Ashlee wasn’t the perfect girlfriend—that was made evident by the moans she emitted while some guy fucked her in the same bed we were in the exact moment Jeff died.

  She screamed when she saw me.

  The guy jumped up, naked as the day he was born.

  I didn’t know him.

  And I didn’t care to.

  But my fist did. It went through eight blows to his face of caring.

  Ashlee cried and called after me.

  I got in my car and drove back to the cemetery where I kicked the fr
esh dirt lying on top of Jeff’s body.

  Then I fell to my knees.

  And it finally happened.

  I broke.

  And I cried seventeen years’ worth of tears.

  And it didn’t fucking help.

  Not even a little bit.

  Not even at all.

  5

  KY

  DOCTOR AROMA TAPS her pen on a notepad a few times while she openly glares at me. I glare back. I’ve been in her office a good ten minutes and neither of us has spoken a word. I don’t know what game she’s playing at—but I can go with this shit all day long. Finally, she cracks, breaking the silence with a sigh. “So are you ready for the list of boys I slept with during college?”

  “Is this how you get all your clients to talk to you?”

  She nods, her smile full force. “It works.”

  Leaning back in my chair, I rest my ankle on the opposite knee and wave a hand in the air. “Ask your questions, Doc.”

  “Nah.” She shrugs. “I think I’m just going to let you talk this session.”

  “I think I’d rather sit in silence.”

  “Okay then,” she says, her eyes never leaving mine.

  And so the game begins again.

  Only this time, she doesn’t stare at me. She starts to scribble in her stupid notepad. I sit up higher, curious to what the hell she could be writing. This goes on for ten minutes. Occasionally, she’ll eye the ceiling as if deep in thought. Then she goes back to writing.

  “What the hell notes could you possibly be obtaining from me sitting here?”

  She shakes her head. “These aren’t notes about you. It’s a list of my college conquests.” She looks up at me quickly. “You wanna see?”

  “No.”

  “Want to talk then?”

  “No.”

  Pressing her lips together, she looks down at the page. “Colin. Freshman year. He was so dreamy. Wait. I think his name’s Colin. Could be Chris. Or Craig. Either way—”

  “So I met a girl,” I blurt out.

  Her smile is instant. “Oh yeah?”

  I clear my throat. “Yeah.”

  “And how did that make you feel?”

  “Really?”