Spiked (Blocked #3)

by Jennifer Lane

  “We talked about Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man,” Jessica said.

  Dane looked as if that was the last thing he’d expected his sister to say. “Really? That book’s vile. I remember suffering through it in English class.”

  I nodded. “Amen, brotha.”

  “It’s not that bad,” Jessica said. “It’s got some good themes.”

  “Like what?” As I took a sip of sparkling water, I remembered our conversation. “Hey! You promised to explain it to me. Don’t leave me hanging.”

  Jessica ate a cheesy bite, and it looked like she forced a swallow. She grabbed her water and took a long gulp. “It’s fiction, but Joyce said it’s more like an autobiography about becoming an artist. He led a tortured life, and he transformed his pain into his writing. Art’s all about emotion—especially painful emotion. Suffering is essential for art. You have to suffer to produce good work.”

  I thought about what she said. To label my music as art was a stretch, but I wondered if that was true for me. Most of my songs were about frustration and longing, not exactly suffering—like my struggle with diabetes, or pining for Jessica. I couldn’t believe she was right here, in my house. I didn’t ever want her to leave.

  “Intriguing.” Dane blinked. “That’s deep. But how’d you come up with those themes from that garbled mess of a book?”

  “Dad told me.” She shrugged. “When we read it in high school, I complained about being completely confused, and he explained how suffering connects to art. Dad said maybe I hadn’t suffered enough to understand it.”

  “Who knew Dad could be so insightful.” Dane nodded. “With the privileged lives we lead, probably none of us has suffered like that.”

  “Or maybe some of us should’ve produced art masterpieces by now,” Jessica muttered.

  We all stared at her.

  “What do you mean?” Dane asked.

  She started, and fear filled her wide eyes. “Nothing. I, I don’t know what I’m talking about.” She looked at her plate, and her upper lip trembled. I saw her hand twist in her lap. She seemed so sad! I fought the urge to take her hand and stroke it.

  After we ate in silence for a few moments, Lucia piped up. “I think that applies to sports, too.”

  “What does?” Dane asked.

  “You need to suffer to be successful. Maybe not suffer, but experience adversity. Adversity’s important for success in sports. Take the team that’s undefeated in the regular season. How often do they win the championship?”

  Dane shook his head. “Not as often as they should.”

  “Well, there you go,” Lucia said. She pointed to Dane’s foot. “You’ve got your adversity right there. Once you heal, you’re gonna be tougher than ever.”

  He gazed at her, and a slow smile spread across his face. “Love you, Luz.”

  She reached to cup his chin. “Love you more.” She leaned in for a kiss.

  The intimacy of the moment made me squirm. Part of me felt uncomfortable witnessing their kiss, and part of me craved that depth of love. Would I ever find that?

  I noticed Jessica also focused on our siblings. When she turned to me, the solemnity in her eyes seemed to ease. Then her face lit up in an alluring smile.

  Did the sun come out, or did you just smile at me?

  I wondered why she was grinning. Was she happy for her brother because he’d found someone? Did she want that kind of love, too? Did she want a relationship at all? She hadn’t eaten much of her chile, but she took another bite. Mesmerized, I watched her glossy, pink mouth accept the fork. My mouth moved in time with hers, like I was taking my own bite.

  “Matty,” Lucia said.

  I snapped out of my daze and looked at my sister. She and Dane smirked at me. Quit being so obvious. “Yeah?”

  “How’s your music coming along? Have you had much suffering to inspire you?” She grinned as she took a bite.

  “Good things are inspiring me.” Lucia glanced at Jessica then back to me when I added, “Fitch and Itch invited me to be part of their band.”

  Lucia’s mouth dropped open. “Congratulations!”

  “Great news, Teo,” Dane said.

  Jessica coughed, then fanned her mouth. “You know somebody named Itch?”

  “His name’s Ichiro. He’s part Japanese.”

  Her eyes flashed with pain as she touched her lips.

  I leaned toward her. “Are you okay?”

  “Too…hot.” She reached for her glass of water.

  “Lucy!” I glared at her. “You made these too spicy.”

  She eyed my empty plate. “You and Dane didn’t seem to mind.”

  “Eat the avocados.” Dane gestured to the slices on Jessica’s plate.

  Lucia frowned. “No, have some sour cream. That’ll help.”

  “You’re both wrong.” I ran to the fridge and poured Jessica a glass of milk. “This will tame the fire in your mouth.”

  “Thanks.” She gulped it down and grimaced. “It still burns.”

  “Give it some time,” Dane said. “Fuck, my sister’s a culinary wuss.”

  As Lucia stood, she shook her head. “You were exactly the same way the first time you ate Sylvia’s recipe.”

  He scowled. “Cállate. Don’t want to lose my spicy street cred.”

  “You are very strange, Danish,” said Jessica. Her smile was back, and all felt right in the world.

  “Danish?” Lucia tilted her head.

  Jessica’s grin broadened. “Apple Danish. He hates when Mom calls him that.”

  His eyes narrowed at his sister. “Voy a matarte.”

  I’m going to kill you, he’d said. I started laughing.

  “We’ve been together two years and this is the first I’m hearing this nickname, Danish?” Lucia gave an evil smile as she carried her and Dane’s plates to the sink.

  “I wish you could unhear it,” he grumbled. “Euchre, anyone?”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek. I didn’t know that game. I took Jessica’s plate over to Lucia.

  “Dad just sent a new board game I want to try,” Lucia said.

  I pouted. “He sent you another gift?” I pointed to her volleyball shirt, one of many Dad had given her. She was so spoiled.

  “Tranquilo. It’s for you, too, since you live here. It’s called The Game of Things.”

  “Sounds thrilling,” said Dane.

  “Oh, hush. You’ll love it. Matty, do the dishes, and I’ll get the game set up in the TV room.”

  Bossy much? I backed away from the sink. I was about to protest until I saw Jessica watching me, her big blue eyes tracking my moves. I didn’t want her to think I was a petulant child, so I opened the dishwasher.

  Dane looked at me. “Want some help?”

  Jessica stood. “Yeah, let me.”

  “Nonsense.” I waved them away. “You’re our guests. Stay there.” Jessica sat back down. “Catch up with texts if you want.”

  The Monroes took out their phones as I loaded the dishwasher. I watched Jessica from the corner of my eye. I hoped she wasn’t texting SSS or Man Bun. Finding a way to spy on her, I grabbed the cutting board I’d just washed and returned it to its cabinet behind her. “So, who are you texting?”

  She looked up from her phone. “Mackenzie. She’s my roommate.”

  Praise Dios.

  “She’s jealous I’m here. She said the dining hall sucked tonight.”

  I wiped down the counter. “Is she a swimmer, too?”

  “Yeah. She swims butterfly. She’s from Australia.” Her eyebrows lifted. “She didn’t even know my mom ran for president!”

  “Wow.” I rinsed out the dishrag.

  “To be fair, I know zilch about Australian politics,” Jessica added.

  I nodded. Neither did I.

  “You know Mom’s going to Canberra next week though,” Dane said.

  Jessica looked at him. “Really?”

  “She’s talking to their parliament about mandatory voting. She wants to se
e if that’ll float here.”

  Lucia entered the room. “No way that’ll happen. The game’s all set up, guys.”

  “Don’t you believe voting is our civic duty?” Dane asked.

  “I do, but I don’t think people should be forced to vote.”

  Dane grabbed his crutches and stood. “Let me guess—this is Adolfo’s opinion that you’ve adopted.”

  Lucia once told me Dane had called our dad “Adolf” when they’d first met. I wondered if he’d whip that out now.

  “This is my own opinion that my dad happens to share.” Lucia’s hand found her hip. “It’s about the role of government—it should be smaller. Government shouldn’t force people to vote. And you think exactly the same way as your mom, so spare me the hypocrisy.”

  “We just want to help people do their civic duty.”

  Lucia’s face reddened. “By fining them if they don’t comply? You and your mom want to force people to do all kinds of things in the guise of ‘helping’ them.”

  “At least we’re not ‘helping’ other countries by invading them and stealing all their resources,” Dane responded.

  “We aren’t invading them!” Lucia railed. “We’re fighting terrorists. Thank God my dad has the balls to take out those ISIS butchers.”

  Chin, she was mad. Jessica’s wide eyes met mine when I glanced at her. She seemed frozen in place as she watched their spat.

  Dane crutched forward. “Maybe if he’d think with his head instead of his balls, America wouldn’t kill so many innocent people.”

  “We’re trying to stop the murder of innocent people!”

  “Whoa!” I shouted. Lucia and Dane turned their glares on me, and I swallowed. “Stop the argumentertainment, guys. Thought I’d get away from this crap when I left the White House.”

  Dane kept glaring. “One-sided crap, you mean. Your dad’s whole staff badmouths Democrats on the daily.”

  “As if your mom’s staff wouldn’t hate on Republicans if she was prez?” Dane shut his mouth, and I continued, “Dude, you just told Lucy you loved her a second ago. Why all the nasty?”

  “She can’t say stuff like that!” Dane fumed. “She knows it pisses me off.”

  “She did go kind of Alejandro on you,” I agreed. I wondered if Dane could handle my honesty. “But you’ve been extra bitchy lately. I don’t know if it’s your foot or PMS or—”

  “You don’t know what it’s like to be injured as an athlete,” Jessica said. “I was out a whole month with a shoulder problem, and it sucked.”

  What really sucked was her pointing out that I was the only one of us who wasn’t a superstar athlete.

  “But Matty knows better than any of us about dealing with a chronic health problem,” Lucia said.

  Piteous silence filled the air. Damn diabetes.

  Jessica sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry, Teo—I didn’t think about that.”

  I hated the embarrassed look in her eyes. “No, you’re right. I’m not an athlete. I don’t know what that’s like. But I was around Alex after elbow surgery, and he was a total pendejo.”

  “Oh shit, you’re comparing me to Alejandro?” Dane scrubbed his jaw. “I must be acting like a complete asswipe.”

  A laugh erupted from Lucia, and she covered her mouth.

  Jessica looked at me. “Your brother’s an ass?”

  “He’s not that bad. He’s gotten better since he started dating Maddie.”

  Dane nodded. “Everything changed when he got laid.”

  “You’re so crude, gigante.” But Lucia snuggled into his chest.

  Dane tucked her closer. “Sorry,” he whispered.

  “Lo siento,” she replied.

  Jessica’s mouth quirked. “Aw. Much better, you two. I won’t have to separate you now.” Her condescending tone amused me.

  “Are we playing this game or what?” I cocked my head toward the TV room.

  We sat at the card table to the side of the sofa. Lucia had torn strips of paper and piled them in front of each chair, along with a pencil for each of us.

  “Okay.” She pointed at the stack of cards. “One person takes a topic card and reads it to everyone, like ‘Things that scare you.’ Then the other three write down something that scares them. The reader blindly judges the best response, and whoever wrote it gets to keep the card. The winner’s the person with the most cards at the end.”

  I silently read the instructions to the game as she spoke. “Says here, ‘The true object of the game is fun, not winning.’”

  “I don’t do anything just for fun,” Jessica said. “I want to win.”

  Dane high-fived her across the table. “Competition runs in our blood. Way to go, Monroe.”

  Lucia and I shook our heads at each other. What am I getting myself into?

  “It is fun,” Lucia said. “My team played this in Florida, and Brianna laughed so hard, she cried.”

  Dane scoffed, but he took a card off the top of the stack. “I go first. Ready, bitches?”

  Lucia nodded. “Bring it.”

  “This is perfect.” Dane snorted as he read, “‘Things you shouldn’t say in group therapy.’”

  I frowned at the strip of paper. I’d never been in group therapy, though my mom had nagged me to attend a diabetes support group when I was younger. I’d wanted nothing to do with it. But if I had attended, what would’ve freaked me out? I wrote my response.

  Dane accepted the folded strips of paper from Lucia and me, then looked at Jessica. “Hurry up.”

  “Give me a second.” Her eyebrows pulled together, creating an endearing indent between her eyes. She scribbled something, then handed the paper to her brother.

  “Let’s see what we got.” Dane scrambled the pieces of paper before unfolding one. “Things you shouldn’t say in group therapy: ‘I’m not secretly recording this on my phone. I promise.’ Yikes.”

  That was mine—I hoped it won. People had posted tons of videos of my family online over the past two years, and I would die if they ever secretly recorded me in group therapy.

  He unfolded another. “‘I only had sex with my dog once.’ What the fuck?” Dane grimaced. “What kind of fucked-up group therapy is this?” He unfolded the last one. “‘My group therapist keeps her blinds open all night in her first-floor apartment.’ Oh. Ew. That’s creepy to the max.” He stilled. “That last one’s the winner.”

  “Yes!” Jessica threw her arms in the air in a victor’s pose.

  Her brother looked her up and down. “You’re twisted, Jess.”

  She gave him a sweet smile. “Thank you.” She snatched the top card and read, “‘Things cats are secretly saying when they meow.’”

  I channeled my inner Escuincle and wrote what he would say.

  Jessica sat up taller and read the first response. “‘You don’t even know how many times I’ve planned your death.’ Ha, good one.” She unfolded another paper. “‘I found Nemo…delicious.’ Aw. Poor Nemo.” She grinned before she read the last paper strip. “‘You’re late, slave.’ Another good one.” She thought for a second, then nodded. “I’m going with Nemo.”

  “Holla!” I did a chair dance in celebration. Maybe I was kind of competitive, too.

  “That’s so wack,” Dane said. “Jess only chose the Disney reference because you’re both baby freshmen.”

  Lucia grinned. “Dang, you’re competitive, Danish.”

  “Teo, read the fucking card,” he growled. “I’m getting this one.”

  “You got it, Apple Strudel.” I picked the top card. “‘Things that would make golf more exciting.’” The uber-tall people at the table gave me blank stares. “Wait, let’s change it to volleyball. Things that would make volleyball more exciting.”

  Lucia frowned. “You can’t just change it like that.”

  “Why not, rule follower?” Dane elbowed her. “I like this one.”

  “Fine, whatever. Things that would make volleyball more exciting.” She chewed on her eraser as she stared at her paper.
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  Dane’s intense vibe put me on edge, but Jessica’s little grin relaxed me. Our hands touched as she passed me her strip of paper, sending a spark up my arm. Had she felt it, too? She looked down, but then peeked up at me with a soft smile. Dios.

  Once I had the three papers, I opened the first one. “‘Full contact, no net.’” Boring, I thought, and unfolded the next paper. “‘Naked volleyball.’” I smiled. “It’s got potential. Okay, last one: ‘The court’s on an electric grid, and players get zapped if they make an error.’ Wow. Rough crowd.” I looked up and studied each of the three. Which had Jessica written? Please, let this be hers. “Gotta go with electric ball zap.”

  “Yee-hah!” Jessica leaped out of her chair and circled her forearm like she was swinging a lasso. “That’s two for me, zero for you, brother.”

  Lucia had told me Dane was an awful winner—he gloated like no tomorrow—and apparently his sister shared that trait. I’d never seen Jessica so lighthearted.

  “Son of a bitch,” Dane hissed. “Sit your ass down.”

  Apparently he was an awful loser, too.

  “Naked volleyball sounds kind of bouncy, uh, jiggly,” Lucia said.

  Dane nodded. “Maybe for those of us who are well-endowed.”

  “Gross.” Jessica perched on her chair and plucked a card from the pile. “Things you shouldn’t do in the shower.”

  Jack off. Jack off. Jack off, was all I could think. I’d done my fair share of solo shower sex since seeing Jessica again a few weeks ago.

  “Let’s see what we got,” she said a minute later as she read, “‘Take a dump.’ Really, Dane? That’s disgusting.”

  His head retracted. “That’s not mine!”

  “It so is yours.” She opened the next one. “‘Sing in a chipmunk voice.’ Hee hee. I like that one. And third, ‘Lick the tile.’ Eueh.” She tucked one of her curls behind her ear. “The chipmunks win, of course.”

  “Thankyaveramuch.” My Elvis impersonation sounded lame.

  Dane’s eyes darkened.

  Lucia frowned at me. “You guys suck. You have a Jedi mind connection or something.” She turned to Dane. “I’m never inviting your sister over again.”

  My breath caught in my throat before I realized she was joking.

  Jessica’s eyes flared as she held up the card. “But you only win if you sing like a chipmunk.”