My Brother's Best Friend

by Nikki Chase

  Where is he taking me?

  “No way. I’m not taking any chances today. I’m getting you into Dr. Kent’s car, and then my job is done.” He holds my legs a little tighter as I start to struggle.

  I flail my arms and kick my legs, but Ray doesn’t even stop to take a breath. For once in his life, he’s actually showing some determination—something I’ve always wished he’d have more of.

  “I’ll miss you, honey,” Mom says, taking my hand in hers as we move awkwardly across the yard as a cluster.

  “Mom, I don’t want to go. Tell Ray to stop this, Mom, please,” I beg, already at my last resort although it’s still dark outside—not a good sign for the rest of the day.

  “Ray…” Mom lets her sentence hang in the air, unsure of what to do.

  “Mom, I told you it’s for Jackie’s own good, okay?” Ray speaks like he’s addressing a toddler. “Remember summer camp? She didn’t want to go either, and at the end of it she didn’t want to leave. This is just like that.”

  “It’s not, you psycho!” I yell at Ray. “I’m an adult now. You can’t force me to do something I don’t want to do.”

  “You should leave now. You’re going to wake the neighbors,” Ray says as he deposits me into the back seat of a black sedan.

  “We’ll send your things in the mail when you get settled in your new place, honey.” Mom throws my shoulder bag into the car, and it lands next to me on the leather car seat.

  It’s the bag I left in the living room last night. It would’ve come in handy last night, when I was locked up in my bedroom with no means to contact the outside world or even to entertain myself.

  Ray slams the car door shut with a smug sneer. Mom waves at me with tears streaming down her cheeks as the car starts to drive away.

  “Hey!” I call out to the driver. “Stop the car.”

  He says nothing, but his flat cap bobs up and down, then all the doors lock simultaneously. He’s taking me, whether I let him or not.

  “This is kidnapping!” I scream. “You’re taking me against my will! I can report you to the cops!” I take out my phone from the bag and hold it up. “I have a phone. I can call 911.”

  “You don’t want to do that,” the driver says in a deep, muffled voice.

  “Yeah?” I ask. “Well, maybe I’m sick of people telling me what to do.”

  To be honest, I have no idea what I’d do even if he lets me go.

  Dr. Kent has probably sent out a memo to other hospitals in the city and asked them to blacklist me. If I care about my career at all, my only choice is to go where he wants me to go.

  I’ve lost the love of my life and everything seems grey. But I know I can crawl out of this hole and function eventually. I just need to fill my life with something else that matters to me… like my work.

  Given these considerations, it’s probably not a good idea to reject the deal. I’d be losing both Gabe and my career.

  It’s also not a good idea to pull on the door handle and fiddle with the lock, like I’m doing now.

  “Careful now,” the driver says. “I don’t want you to fall out of the car and get a scar on your pretty face.”

  “What the fuck makes you think you can talk to me like that?” I ask with the force of all the fury and outrage I’ve collected since yesterday.

  “You don’t curse,” he says.

  “Fuck. You.”

  I cross my arms over my chest and lean back in my seat. I may not get anything out of this small act of rebellion, but I can’t just let them get away with this, even if the smartest thing to do would be to let go and move on.

  The driver lets out a soft snort, which turns into a chuckle, which turns into a laugh. A familiar laugh.

  My heart stops.

  I lean forward over the center console between the two front seats, and take a good look at the driver.

  My breath catches in my throat, and I raise my hands up to cover my mouth. “Gabe?”

  “You don’t curse,” he repeats as his laughter dies down. “That was as unnatural as the time you pretended to be a smoker.”

  “Why are you here?”

  I can’t take my eyes off him. That shock of dark chestnut hair. Those eyes the color of deep forests, sharp and confident.

  I didn’t think I’d see him again.

  “To take you to the airport,” he says calmly.

  His words punch me in the gut, forcing the breath out of me.

  When I saw him, to be honest, a part of me was hoping he had regrets about what had happened yesterday and he wanted to fix things.

  But of course that’s not what’s happening.

  He’s angry at me for my deception, and I don’t blame him. I toyed with his heart, pretending to be a stranger, then my family blackmailed his dad again.

  He probably thinks that I was in cahoots with my brother, that I was luring him into a trap the whole time.

  He must hate me. And he probably doesn’t trust me anymore.

  He doesn’t have to personally take me to the airport. But apparently he really wants to make sure I’m leaving and he can’t pass up the opportunity to mock me.

  Even though I was the one who started this whole thing with Gabe, I can’t help but feel bitter about everyone else who’s benefiting from this arrangement.

  I’m the only loser here.

  Dr. Kent gets to keep his son in his hospital, which is what he’s always wanted—I’m pretty sure he would’ve been happy to shell out $100,000 to make that happen anyway.

  Ray and Mom obviously get the money.

  And Gabe gets to dump the lying girlfriend and send her all the way to the other side of the country.

  Me? I get uprooted from my home and sent off to a city I’ve never even been to.

  “You’re quiet today, angel,” he says. He doesn’t have to mock me by calling me that.

  He said he’d stay by my side no matter what, and it was a lie.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  I just want this torture to be over. Maybe if I apologize, he’ll at least treat me nicely. Maybe we can still part as friends.

  “For being quiet?” he asks.

  Does he really need to make me spell it out?

  I regret not apologizing right away at Dr. Kent’s office and running away just like that.

  Yeah, I know this is a little late. But he knows damn well what I’m talking about.

  I figure this is not the time to start a fight. Maybe I deserve this hell.

  “For lying to you,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you from the start.”

  “Yes, you should’ve,” Gabe says.

  “I don’t have an excuse,” I admit. “But you should know I didn’t plan it or anything. I wanted to say hi to you as Jackie, but then you started looking at me like that, and talking to me like that… and I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

  “You know what else you should’ve done?” Gabe asks, still in his eerily serene voice.

  How can he be so calm when my world is about to end?

  Doesn’t he care that we’ll probably never see each other again?

  “No. Please tell me,” I say, giving into despair.

  I guess I’ll just sit here and let him tell me what I’ve done wrong and how much he hates me.

  “You should’ve picked up my calls last night. At least one of them,” Gabe says.

  My jaw drops. “What?”

  That’s not the answer I was expecting at all.

  “You called me last night?” I light up my phone.

  23 missed calls—I tap on the screen—and all of them were from Gabe.

  “We could’ve avoided this if you’d answered my call last night,” Gabe says cryptically.

  “Avoided ‘this’? What’s ‘this’?”

  “This whole kidnapping thing,” he says.

  “Because you think I wouldn’t have struggled so much after you’d talked to me?” I ask, taking offense at the suggestion that he can dictate what I do
.

  I mean, yes, I like to follow his orders in the bedroom. But outside of it? Things are a little different.

  “No, because I could’ve picked you up last night instead,” Gabe says.

  What?

  “How is a mere change in pick-up time going to make things dramatically different?” I ask.

  “Well, yes,” he says with a cocky raise of his eyebrow. “You would’ve had time to pack, and you wouldn’t have needed the lift from your brother. That didn’t look very comfortable.”

  “What makes you think I’d leave voluntarily?” I challenge him.

  “Because I know you. Because you’re mine.”

  His words send a cruel chill down my spine. Does he really need to remind me of what we used to have and can never regain?

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask. “Why do you have to pretend like everything’s okay? Why do you have to call me ‘angel’ and say things like that to me?”

  “Do you want a different pet name?” Gabe asks. “We can pick a different one. How about ‘akoma mu tɔfe’? That’s Twi—which is one of the languages they speak in Ghana—for sweetheart. Taken literally, it means ‘candy of the heart.’ I’ve always liked it.”

  “What?” Again, Gabe’s answer knocks me off my balance. I was ready to be outraged, but his meandering musings about pet names confuse me.

  The car stops. Without me even realizing it, we’ve reached the airport and Gabe has even parked the car.

  He turns off the engine and twists to look at me from the gap between the two front seats. He hands me a piece of paper.

  “That’s your ticket,” he says. “I still think it’s strange that airplane tickets are just printed pieces of paper now, but you’ve got to get with the times.”

  He sounds almost cheerful. Is he so happy to see me go?

  Slowly, I take the paper he’s offering.

  Jacqueline Summers.

  Destination: Kotoka International Airport, Accra, Ghana.

  I frown and meet Gabe’s gaze. He’s studying me, watching me for a reaction.

  “I thought I was going to Chicago.” My voice comes out small and uncertain.

  Is Dr. Kent screwing me over? Did he lie about the internship position in Chicago?

  What the hell is going on?

  Gabriel

  “Why Ghana?” Jacqueline asks as she hurries out of the car.

  “Well, they speak English there, for starters,” I answer without slowing my pace. “It's warm. It has nice beaches—people are often surprised by that. They think the whole continent of Africa is a parched desert. It even has castles.”

  I drag my suitcase through the automatic doors and into the cool, air-conditioned airport.

  She scampers to catch up to me. I know that's not the answer she's looking for, but I can't just tell her everything right away. How much fun would that be?

  Besides, after keeping the truth from me for almost a month, she can endure a little suspense. I’ll admit knowing she's hanging on to my every word gives me a rush.

  “Come on, Jacqueline, we’re almost late.”

  I know who she used to be now, but I can't bring myself to call her by her old name. It feels strange, like it doesn't suit her anymore.

  Whoever she is, all that matters is I can't live without her anymore. I’ve fallen for this woman standing in front of me right now.

  I don’t care what her name is, or what has happened in her past. I’d already decided that when she told me she had a secret. She could’ve been a serial killer and I still would’ve loved her just the same.

  Jacqueline stops trying to match my pace and she takes my hand instead, pulling me to a stop. “What do you mean we’re almost late? What’s in that suitcase? Why am I not going to Chicago?”

  She's wearing the same jeans and T-shirt that she throws on every morning before going to work.

  I remember making her take them off every night as soon as she stepped through the door. In fact, as I catch a glimpse of the outline of her bra underneath her white shirt, I’m tempted to find some place in this airport where we can fuck.

  But I’m only now noticing how exhausted she looks.

  Seeing as her mom told me she was still asleep when I pulled up in front of her house, I’m guessing she didn't even get a chance to change last night.

  Maybe this is not a good time to be playing a game.

  “This suitcase—” I pull it closer and make it stand on the floor on its own “—contains my stuff. I said we were late because you and I—we—need to get through the security checkpoints and they usually have long lines.”

  Jacqueline stares at me in confusion. “You’re coming with me to Chicago? Just to make sure I leave the city?”

  “No, angel, we’re going to Ghana.” I give her a gentle smile and stroke her hair. I want her to know everything’s okay now. I’ve taken care of everything for the both of us.

  “I’m not going to Chicago? What about the job?” she asks, forcing her red, puffy eyes to remain alert despite her exhaustion and distress.

  Yeah, this is definitely not the right time to play a guessing game. I should’ve realized that sooner.

  But then again, it also took me way too long to know my best friend’s little sister had feelings for me, so maybe I’m just an insensitive, oblivious idiot.

  “I have that ticket, too, angel,” I say. “You can go to Chicago if you want. I just thought that maybe you’d rather come with me.” I pull out another piece of paper with my flight itinerary on it and hold it up for her to read. “Because I’m going on that same flight to Ghana.”

  “Did Dr. Kent change his mind about my placement in Chicago? Did the hospital not want me?” Despite my attempts to help her understand what’s going on, she seems to be growing more upset. Her eyes fill with water.

  Fuck.

  Did I make the wrong decision?

  We’ve never discussed moving to Africa together, after all.

  I thought I knew her enough to tell that she’d gladly come with me, but maybe I was just being presumptuous.

  “Hey, angel,” I say in a soothing voice, “please don’t cry. Everything’s okay. The hospital in Chicago wants you—they’d be stupid not to. You’re doing really good work. My dad has already arranged that.” I level my gaze at her eyes and wipe away the lone tear falling down her smooth, creamy cheek. “But I want you to come with me to Ghana instead. I thought you’d be happy to hear that.”

  Instead of calming down, she cries even harder. The little droplets gliding down her face turn into continuous streams of salty tears. Her delicate shoulders shake as sobs rack through her body.

  “I’m so sorry.” I know I’ve done something wrong here, but I have no idea what it is.

  People are turning to stare at us as they walk past, and they’re giving me dirty looks.

  Fuck them. They don’t know what’s going on.

  I’d do anything to fix things for Jacqueline. I’d give anything if it means she’ll stop crying. It hurts like a motherfucker to see her like this.

  It took me everything I had to stay on track yesterday when she started to cry in my dad’s office. And when she called out my name, I almost crumbled.

  I had to endure the pain because I didn’t want to ruin the plan. But none of that matters if Jacqueline doesn’t want to come with me.

  “Angel, please don’t cry,” I repeat. “You don’t have to come with me to Ghana if you don’t want to. I’d love to live with you there and start a new life together. But it’s your decision. You can go to Chicago if you want to. That would be a good move for your career.”

  Her gaze flicks up to meet mine. Displeasure flashes in her flooded eyes. She asks, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “You seemed like you were doing okay this morning in the car, and I wanted this to be a happy surprise.” I raise my hand to caress her wet cheeks and, despite her apparent anger, she lets me do it.

  “I don’t need a surprise. I need an explanati
on,” she demands.

  “I’m so sorry, angel. I thought it would lighten up the mood. I hate seeing you cry.”

  “So you think hiding my destination was going to cheer me up?” Jacqueline narrows her eyes at me.

  “Uh… yes?”

  “You’re an idiot,” she says with an exasperated sigh.

  “I am. I’m sorry,” I say. “Do you want your ticket to Chicago?”

  Knowing that she might not get on the plane with me feels like a punch to the gut, but if that’s going to make her happy…

  “God,” she says as she lets out another sigh, “you really are an idiot, aren’t you? I can’t believe I didn’t see it before, and I’ve practically known you my whole life.”

  It’s my turn now to stare at her in confusion.

  “Really? You still don’t get it?” she frowns. “Of course I’m going with you!”

  As relief washes over me, I pull her into my arms and hold her tight.

  “Did you really think I was going to say ‘no’? I’ve wanted to be with you my whole life,” she says, her voice muffled from having her face pressed against my chest.

  “Maybe you changed your mind because I’m an idiot.” My lips pull up into a wide smile, and then into a grin.

  I feel light, like I can forgo the flight and just float all the way to Africa on the sheer power of euphoria.

  “Well, you are,” she says,” but you’re my idiot.”

  “I’ll have you know I’ve been called a ‘brilliant doctor.’ I did win an award, you know,” I remind her.

  She laughs softly and wraps her arms around me. As travelers mill past hurriedly, we stand still in the middle of the airport, intertwined in our own private bubble.

  To everyone else, we’re just another couple. And that’s how I want it to be. I want people to mind their own business and leave us alone. Too bad we can’t have that if we stay here.

  “I still have some questions,” Jacqueline says.

  “I know you do, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know. I promise I won’t hide anything from you ever again.” I stroke her hair.

  “Me, too. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

  “If you didn’t lie in the beginning, I might’ve kept my distance from you.” I shudder to think about the incredible love that I would’ve missed out on, had she been honest from the start.