Your Own Worst Enemy

by Gordon Jack

  “Oh,” Brian said. “Sure.”

  James laughed. “It’s okay. I’m not going to kiss you or anything.”

  “No, it’s not that,” Brian said, staring at his tea. “It’s just. We have very different reactions to what happened, is all. For you, it clarified something. For me, it just made me confused.”

  “I can understand that,” James said.

  “The kiss for me wasn’t as intense an experience as kissing Julia,” Brian said. “But it wasn’t gross or anything.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “You know what I mean,” Brian said.

  “It’s fine,” James said. “I didn’t ask you here to work through your sexual confusion. I mostly wanted to ask you if you knew your brother was working for Tony.”

  “Wait. What?” The change in subject matter was so abrupt, Brian’s left leg involuntarily jerked up in surprise and nearly upended their table.

  James nodded. “You’ve got to be careful what you say at home.”

  “I don’t talk to Kyle at home. Like ever.”

  “Well, keep it that way. I honestly don’t care who wins. I can work with either Stacey or Julia. The person I can’t work with is Tony. We have to stop him.”

  “You really think he has a chance?”

  “If the girls split the votes, he does. The freshmen love this guy. He’s turned the cafeteria into a speakeasy for chocolate milk addicts.”

  “Fucking Kyle. I’m telling the principal about his little Space Cow operation first thing tomorrow.”

  “Does he know about Julia?”

  “God no.”

  “I would keep it that way,” James said. “Can I ask you why, of all the girls at Lincoln, you decided to go after that one?”

  “Like I said at the GSA meeting, it was kind of decided for me,” Brian said, indicating his pants.

  “I can sympathize with your situation,” James said. “It must be tough.”

  “I’m doing everything I can not to hurt Stacey’s campaign, but I keep screwing up.”

  “I don’t know Julia, but she seemed sincerely sorry about what she did today.”

  “Yeah, I’ll call her,” Brian said. “Thanks, you know, for talking with me about this.”

  “No problem. Let’s just make sure one of your two girlfriends wins, okay?”

  Brian raced home to confront Kyle, the traitorous little shit. He knew Stacey wanted the presidency more than anything, and he knew she was Brian’s best friend. So why help Tony defeat her? Did he merely want to hurt Brian, or was he looking to destroy the school in a blaze of riots and protest? Knowing Kyle, it was probably a little of both.

  Upon entering his house, he found his brother quietly reading Atlas Shrugged on the living room sofa. On the opposite end of the sectional was Brian’s mom, rereading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Shouldn’t those books be in different hands? he thought. Shouldn’t it be the child immersed in a story about wizards and the adult reading a political diatribe against big government?

  “Hi, honey,” his mom said. “How was your day?”

  “Great,” Brian said. “Kyle, can I talk to you for a sec?”

  “Sure, what’s up?” Kyle did not look up and made no indication that he was ready to leave the sofa.

  “In private,” Brian said.

  “I’m pretty comfortable right now,” Kyle said. “Besides, I don’t want to turn our home into a Chamber of Secrets.”

  “Nice one,” Mom said, gently nudging him with her foot. “But actually, I’ve got to get back to work.”

  She closed her book and set it on the coffee table, next to her empty cup. “Ten more pages, and I can call it a day.”

  She walked down the hall, like she was on her way to the electric chair, and entered her office, which was just a walk-in closet with a standing desk. The life of a children’s book author was really kind of depressing.

  Brian waited a few seconds for his mom to put on her noise-canceling headphones before he lit into his brother. “What the fuck, dude? You’re working with Tony Guo?” he said.

  “I believe in Tony’s platform,” Kyle said, smiling and putting down the book.

  “What platform is that?”

  “Individual rights. Capitalism. The downfall of the nanny state.”

  “Those are Tony’s interests?”

  “Those and chocolate milk.” Kyle picked up the book and went back to reading. After observing his little brother for fourteen years, Brian had come to learn that Kyle used people’s perceptions of him to his advantage. Most didn’t see how smart he was because they couldn’t get past his blue Mohawk. Brian was sure the Ayn Rand novel was a similar kind of subterfuge; he wanted Brian to see him reading it. Brian doubted he was actually reading it.

  “You know you’re not allowed to serve chocolate milk in the cafeteria,” Brian said. “I’m telling the administration.”

  “Are you that desperate?” Kyle said. “I saw how many cupcakes Stacey had left over today. How many did you eat? Let me guess? Five? Six?”

  Brian felt sick at the mention of the word “cupcake.” His brother must have picked up on his queasiness because he laughed and warned, “You better watch out, bruh, or you’re going to be as big as you were freshman year.”

  “You know Stacey has been working since ninth grade to be president,” Brian said. “She’s the best candidate for the job.”

  “That’s for the voters to decide, isn’t it?” Kyle stood up and walked over to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.

  “What has Tony ever done besides get high and be a horrible DJ?”

  “I’ll have you know DJ Space Cow is an excellent musical stylist. You can’t criticize him for being ahead of his time.” Kyle took a tiny sip and swished the water around in his mouth, like he was sampling a fine wine.

  “You’re just helping him because he’s the worst candidate. This is like some big joke for you.”

  “Not at all. I take my work with Tony very seriously. He speaks for me and all the other disenfranchised voters out there whose voices have long been ignored by people like Stacey. Let’s see how she feels when she’s the one on the outside.”

  “Is that what this is about? Revenge?”

  “Kind of,” Kyle said. “Isn’t all politics about revenge, mostly?”

  “No, it’s about doing good.”

  “But your good is my bad. Your utopia is my dystopia.”

  “How would Stacey’s presidency affect your life in any way?”

  “She wants to turn us all into little eco-warriors,” Kyle said, dumping the glassful of water down the drain.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Brian asked.

  “I don’t give a shit about recycling, and neither does most of the school. With her in charge, my life becomes a living hell. Throw something in the wrong bin, and you’re carted away to a reeducation camp where you shovel manure on local farms for a semester.”

  “You’re an idiot,” Brian said. “I guess you don’t believe in global warming, either.”

  “I’m ready for Earth to destroy itself. Bring on the droughts and floods! When the apocalypse happens, I’ll be ready. You and Stacey will be the first casualties.” Kyle pushed past Brian on his way back to the couch.

  Brian stared at his brother in disbelief. “Jesus, Kyle. Is the world really that bleak a place for you?”

  Kyle threw himself back onto the cushions and picked up the Ayn Rand brick of a book. “All you people trying to make things better are just putting a Band-Aid on a festering wound. I’m ready to amputate.”

  “You need help,” Brian said.

  “I need help? Me?” Kyle threw the book onto the carpeted floor. “I’m the only one prepared to save this family from another attack.”

  “An attack? From whom?”

  “From the government, you idiot. Don’t you remember what happened to Dad?”

  “That was years ago,” Brian said. “And Dad was fully exonerated.”

 
“He was innocent, but that didn’t stop the police from arresting him. They did it at my soccer game, remember? Hauled him off like he was some low-life scum.”

  It was a horrible time for their family. Brian didn’t understand everything that happened. What he remembered was his dad did the taxes for some shady investment fund manager, who had been siphoning money from his partners and hiding it in offshore accounts. Dad knew nothing about what the guy was doing until the police came to arrest him for “aiding or assisting in the preparation of false tax returns.” It took years of courtroom battles and thousands of dollars in legal fees to clear his name, which they did eventually. His dad’s arrest was the start of Brian’s weight problem. He saw now that his brother had internalized the experience in a very different way.

  “Is that what all this is about?” Brian asked. “You want to bring down the government because they accused Dad of a crime he didn’t commit?”

  “It’s not just Dad, you moron,” Kyle said. “You see the news? We’re living in a police state. Just ask any black dude with a car.”

  “But government is supposed to fix these problems,” Brian said.

  “Government is the problem,” Kyle said. “Unless we elect buffoons like Tony who don’t give a shit about anything. With him in office, no one is going to tell me what to do.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Brian said. “Every president has his advisers.”

  “Yeah, well then, I’ll be the man in charge,” Kyle said. “Which works out even better for me.”

  Brian was about to respond when his phone buzzed.

  “Does Stacey need her lapdog to make a run for more markers and glitter glue?” Kyle asked, picking up his book again.

  Brian peeked at his screen and saw it was Julia. He quickly pocketed his cell before Kyle could see her name flashing in bright, glowing letters and went to his room. Sitting at his desk, he called Julia back, making sure to keep his voice low, just in case his brother was listening outside the door.

  “I’m so sorry,” Julia said.

  “It’s okay,” Brian said. “I’m not mad anymore.”

  “Oh good,” Julia said. “Because I’ve got a surprise for you. Guess where I am?”

  “We still need to talk about what happened,” Brian said.

  “I know we do. First guess where I am.”

  “Julia, I’ve had a horrible day and don’t have the—”

  “I’m in the changing room at Nordstrom.”

  “And . . . ?”

  “And it’s really private. I mean, no one is here. I’ve got the space all to myself.”

  “Which department?”

  “Women’s Activewear.”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Brian hung up and banged his head against his desk. How could he be mad at his brother when he was helping Stacey’s opponent as well? His espionage was much worse because he was betraying his best friend. Kyle at least had some principles he was fighting for; all Brian wanted was to see Julia in leggings and a sports bra.

  Brian went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and washed the cupcake residue off his hands and face. Then he tiptoed down to his parents’ bathroom and sprayed a bit of his father’s cologne on his chest and belly. He still felt queasy from throwing up those six cupcakes. A penance he’d have to endure during his make-out session with Julia. This was probably fair, he thought. If he was going to betray Stacey, he shouldn’t feel good doing it.

  On his way to the front door, he passed his brother, hiding once again behind his book on the couch. The cover depicted a naked man bent under the weight of world. Brian couldn’t see the image without thinking of the burdens his brother must be carrying.

  “You smell nice,” Kyle said.

  “Tell Mom I’m going out,” Brian said.

  “Hot date?” Kyle said.

  “See you later, Kyle,” Brian said, and closed the door gently behind him.

  24

  JULIA KNEW WHAT she was doing was wrong. If her mom had taught her anything, it was to never use her body to get what she wanted. Objectifying yourself was never a means to an end, just a way of losing your self-respect. But this wasn’t like that, Julia told herself as she paced the tight confines of the changing room in the Activewear department at Nordstrom. She wanted to apologize to Brian and she wanted to make out with him some more. She couldn’t go to his house and the library was closed, so the department store offered the next-best meeting place. It was better actually. If she wanted a romantic evening with Brian—and she did want it, very much—why not spend it in a place that spritzed you with perfume and serenaded you with soft Muzak?

  Julia tried on a few outfits, but everything from Activewear was made of some synthetic material and covered her body in uncomfortable ways. So she took the escalator up one floor to the trendier Juniors department and looked for something softer and prettier. The department was fairly empty, this being the hour most families sat down for dinner. Julia told Aunt Gloria she needed a new outfit for her speech next week and had gotten permission to stay out later than usual.

  She flipped through the racks, keeping an eye on the two salesclerks talking at the register. So far, they seemed more interested in the new Bardot collection than they were in a potential customer. Julia hoped they would leave her alone so she could make out with her boyfriend. She texted Brian the change of plan—Waiting for you in the Juniors department on third floor—and tried not to look like a shoplifter.

  While she waited for Brian to arrive, she received a text from Jenny confirming the quinceañera protest-and-dance rehearsal this weekend. We’re meeting at my house at two o’clock on Sunday, she wrote. Everyone’s fired up to march since the administration hasn’t done shit about your poster. It was true. It had been nearly a week since Julia’s poster was vandalized, and there had been no word about an investigation or response from the school.

  I’ll be there, Julia wrote back.

  When Brian arrived, bounding up the escalator like a man on a sexy scavenger hunt (find: one naked girl in a department store), Julia waved him over to where she was standing. “Hold these,” she whispered, throwing a pile of summer dresses into his arms. Then she walked him over to the fitting rooms and waited for one of the salesclerks to come over and let her in. The young woman who helped them was only a few years older than Julia. Her heavy lidded eyes and plucked eyebrows made her look both bored and surprised at the same time.

  “I want to try on every one,” Julia said in her most aggressively girlie voice. While the salesgirl counted the items, she turned to Brian and added, “I’ll perform my signature dance move in each, and you tell me which you like best.”

  “This may take a while,” Brian said, rolling his eyes at their clothes chaperone.

  “Tell me if you need any help,” the clerk said, and promptly left the area.

  Brian moved to follow Julia into the changing room, but she stopped him with a gentle hand to the chest. “Let me change first.”

  She closed the door and slipped out of her T-shirt and jeans and into the cute floral slip dress she was actually planning to buy. She knew before the silky fabric fell over her chest and hips that it would be perfect. Once on, she smoothed her hands over her hair and wet her lips. When she opened the door to invite Brian in, she pretended to welcome him into her studio apartment.

  “You’re early,” she said, pulling him inside. “My place is a mess.”

  Brian seemed struck blind by the sight of her. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, holding her hand but keeping a safe distance, almost as if he was afraid to touch her and ruin the effect.

  “I wanted this night to be special,” Julia said, stepping forward into his arms. “I thought we could go dancing.” She reached down and pulled her iPhone out of her purse and played “Your Best American Girl” by Mitski. She held Brian close and rocked gently back and forth with her lips brushing against Brian’s neck.

  “I’m sorry,” Julia whispere
d to the song’s slow strum of a guitar. “I shouldn’t have done my campaign promotion the same day as Stacey. That was unfair to her. And to you.”

  “Why’d you do it?” he asked, holding her close.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I panicked, I guess. I didn’t know baked goods were a part of campaigning. I’m new to this, remember?”

  “It made me feel like you’re using me,” Brian said. “Like the only reason you’re spending time with me is to get information on Stacey.”

  “That’s not true,” Julia said.

  “I want to be able to trust you.”

  “Would it help if I told you my biggest secret?” Julia said.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Brian said.

  “I want to,” Julia said. “I trust you with it. Even though you may hate me after you hear the story.”

  “I doubt that,” Brian said.

  Julia took a deep breath. “There’s a reason I’m in the States with my aunt and not back in Canada with my mom.” She paused, then said, “I almost killed a girl.” Julia felt Brian start to pull away, probably so he could look at her, but Julia tightened her embrace. She didn’t think she’d have the courage to tell him the truth if they looked each other in the eyes.

  “It was last year,” she began. “I was dating this senior named Felix, a real asshole, although I didn’t know that at the time. I found a picture of a girl posing in her underwear on his phone, and he told me she was a stalker who wouldn’t leave him alone. I believed him and posted the girl’s photo for everyone at school to see. The girl, Alice, was so embarrassed, she tried to kill herself.”

  Julia felt Brian’s body grow rigid, as if she had dripped poison in his ear that instantly paralyzed him. She continued to hold him close and rock him gently.

  “Did she succeed?” he asked.

  “No, thank God. I found out later she was just a freshman, and Felix had been flirting with her for months. He’s the one who convinced her to send him the photo. But since I’m the one who shared it, everyone turned on me. Rightly so. Felix broke up with me. My friends disowned me. The school suspended me. Alice’s family wanted to prosecute. They had all my texts and posts as evidence. Mom thought it would be better if I left for a while, so she sent me to live with her sister here in California.”