The Bravest Thing

by Laura Lascarso

  “Out,” I say. He knows my usual haunts. He could have found me if it was really that important.

  “The band left,” he says like it’s my fault. “Sabrina told me to finish off the drums myself. Are you happy now?”

  I’m still pretty drunk. Maybe that’s what makes me bold. “You fucking deserve it, Seth. You’re an asshole to the band. You’re lucky they don’t kick your ass out.”

  He crosses the room in two strides and smacks me again, hard enough to make me see double. I start laughing. It’s a nervous reaction.

  “You fucked some other guy, didn’t you?” he says. Maybe he smells the biker’s cologne. I let him show me how to do a trick shot. I wanted to feel another man’s arms around me and pretend they were Berlin’s.

  “No, I didn’t.” I could have, but I didn’t, because I don’t want to play games with Seth or give him a reason to be pissed at me.

  “Don’t fucking lie to me, Hiroku,” he says and hits me again. This time it’s my lip. I cut the inside of my mouth on my bottom teeth and taste blood.

  “Feel better now?” I ask him. The less I react, the more it enrages him. I want to watch him explode. Blow the fucking roof off this crummy trailer.

  “You’re the same spoiled brat you’ve always been,” he says. His eyes grow larger and more menacing. He bares his teeth, and I think of that fairy tale. Grandmother, what big teeth you have. “I bring you out here. I give you every little thing you want, and you still can’t wait to get away and slut around town.”

  I snort. “Yeah, because I’m the one who can’t keep my dick in my pants.” Another blow, this time to my other cheek to even it out. Maybe I should defend myself, but I don’t know how. It’d be like hitting my sister, so instead I wound him with words.

  “It was so good, Seth, in the alley behind the pool hall, right next to the dumpster. It was so raw and rough. You ever been with a biker before? God, he was hung like a fucking horse. I had to hold on for dear life.” I pump my hips to really drive it home for him. Instead of hitting me, he lunges at me, latches on to my neck with both hands. His fingers clamp around my windpipe and choke off my air. I can’t breathe, and he isn’t letting up. He shoves me backward so my head knocks against the wall of the trailer. My vision goes black around the edges and I feel like I’m falling. I reach for his wrists to release the pressure. My mouth opens and closes, unable to utter a word or cry out. In his eyes I see his blackest desire. He wants me dead, or at least, he wants the power to kill me.

  My mind flashes back to the bigot brigade holding me down, and a rush of superhuman strength surges through me. I tear Seth’s wrists away from my neck and collapse into a chair, coughing and sputtering, trying to force air into my lungs. Seth backs away and glances down at his hands like they aren’t his own.

  “Hiroku,” he wails and bursts into tears.

  I’m trapped in an oxygen-deprived daze and having trouble speaking. My throat feels like it’s been clamped shut with a vise. I have just enough left in me to tell him to piss off. I cross the room to the trailer’s bedroom, slam the door behind me, and move the dresser in front of it. He’ll have to break a window to get in. I pass out in the bed almost immediately, either from drunkenness or trauma. My last thought before blinking out is that I wish Berlin were here to hold me.

  When I wake up the next morning, Seth is gone. Purple and blue marks circle my throat like some ugly pearl choker. I feel like a sad cliché. I still can’t talk right and my throat hurts like a bitch.

  Jesus, I’m a fucking mess.

  I’ve had enough of Seth’s bullshit. I’ll sleep in a ditch if I have to. I stuff a backpack with my most critical camera equipment and head outside, but my motorcycle is gone. Seth must have taken it, knowing this would be the last straw. I’d curse him aloud, but my voice is too weak to even say my own name. He’s taken my body, my spirit, my voice, and my freedom. Last night he almost took my life.

  I walk the two miles into town to Becky’s Diner and ask to use their telephone. I dial the number I memorized just in case.

  Berlin answers on the second ring.

  Berlin

  I DON’T recognize the caller. I almost don’t answer it, thinking it might be Trent prank calling me again, but I do, just in case it’s Hiro.

  “Hello?” I say into the phone.

  “Berlin.”

  The moment I’ve been praying for the past two months has finally arrived, only Hiro sounds like he’s smoked about ten packs of cigarettes. I can barely hear him, his voice is so raspy.

  “Hiro.” I say his name like a prayer. I’m so happy at the sound of his voice. It’s like a shower of pure joy raining down on top of me. “Are you okay?”

  Something is wrong, really wrong for him to call me like this, after so much time. It’s still early on a Friday morning, which somehow makes it worse.

  “I need….” He doesn’t finish. Is Seth there with him, preventing him from saying more? There’s a lot of noise in the background, like he’s in a kitchen. I’m at school, first period, running errands for the office secretary. I duck into an empty classroom in order to hear him better.

  “What is it?” I ask. “Anything.”

  “I need you to come get me,” he whispers. He sounds desperate and scared.

  “Where are you?”

  “You can’t….”

  “Can’t what?” I prompt. It sounds like every word is painful for him.

  “You can’t tell my mom.”

  I pause. What if he’s hurt and needs to go to the hospital? There are decisions I can’t make for him. And his mother loves the hell out of him, no matter what. But I learned my lesson once already, and I don’t want to risk losing him again.

  “I won’t.” I’m already jogging down the hallways, on the way to the parking lot where my truck is parked. “Are you safe?”

  “For now. I can’t talk long and my voice….”

  He fades away. I don’t want him to spend any more words on me. “Tell me where you are, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Allister, Texas. Becky’s Diner.”

  “Allister, Texas. Got it. I missed you….” I hear his wheezy breathing. It sounds like he’s having an asthma attack, but I don’t think he has asthma. “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I got to go.”

  “Stay safe. Call me if you need me.”

  “I will.”

  I remember the Petty Crime concert. How he told me if I wanted to go, we had to go right then. How Seth had run after him in the parking lot, screaming like a lunatic. Something bad happened in Allister, Texas. I feel it in my bones.

  I check my phone as I climb into my truck. Allister is a six-hour drive.

  I’ll be there in five.

  Hiroku

  THE WAITRESS, Denise, is kind to me. I don’t have any money, but she gives me hot tea and grits because that’s about all I can eat with my throat in the shape it’s in. I have a long wait until Berlin gets here. I didn’t realize when I called that he was probably at school, and he’ll have to cut class to come get me.

  I hope whatever hole Seth has crawled into, he’ll stay there for the next several hours. I don’t want to have to face him.

  Denise nods at my neck. “I used to have one of those.”

  I should have worn a shirt that would hide the bruises a little better. I really don’t want Berlin to see my like this, but I need him. I can’t do this alone.

  “His name was Paul,” Denise continues. “Boy, did I think he was the cat’s meow. Made me feel like a million bucks, he did. But he got so mean sometimes, especially when he’d been drinking. Liked to take it out on me. Put me in the hospital twice before I finally left him.” She shakes her head. “People used to tell me I could do so much better, but I didn’t believe them.” She looks at me with purpose. “You don’t get what you deserve. You get what you think you deserve. Know what I’m saying, sweetheart?”

  I nod and sip the tea, trying to keep myself from crying.
I don’t deserve either of them. Seth because he’s a sadistic asshole, Berlin because he’s a saint. The two dragons inside me are always battling. One wants darkness and pain; the other wants goodness and light. It’s tearing me apart.

  Denise pats my hand. “I’m working a double today. I’ll wait with you until your friend gets here, okay?”

  I nod, scratching at my eyes. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  I spend the morning reading the newspapers and magazines customers leave behind. Except for school assignments, I haven’t read a newspaper in my entire life. It’s pretty mundane, but it helps to keep my mind off everything. I didn’t get my dose of drugs last night, so by noontime I’m feeling the withdrawal. I pace the parking lot behind the diner, smoking cigarettes, which irritates my throat even more, but I need something to keep myself occupied. My skin is itchy like I have a million mosquito bites. I scratch my arms raw. I try to steady my breathing and think calming thoughts, but it’s like a million squawking birds in my head, pecking at my insides.

  Around two o’clock, Denise gives me a bowl of tomato soup, which I sip at just to be polite. I feel like I’m going to throw up. I keep glancing at the door when the bell jingles, expecting Berlin at any moment. By three o’clock, I’m worried something has happened to him. Or maybe he wasn’t able to get away.

  The bell jingles and I glance toward the door again, but it isn’t Berlin. It’s Seth.

  Instead of getting angry and wanting to lash out at him, I get sad and weepy, and even though I hate him and want him to die, I also want him to hold me and apologize and tell me he loves me and that he’ll never do that to me again. I also want him to get me high, because my body has turned on me like a hungry dog.

  Seth ducks his head when he sees me, clearly ashamed. I swivel back toward the counter. My thoughts can’t be trusted. Neither can my words or my actions. I’m not myself, I tell myself, but then, when have I ever been? I dig into my seat and hope he’ll just walk back out the way he came. He doesn’t, though. He sits down next to me at the counter.

  “What do you want?” Denise is on him immediately. I haven’t told her who did this to me, but she’s seen us together before.

  “I’ll take a coffee, black,” he says.

  “That’s not what I meant,” she snarls. She glances over at me. “You want me to get my manager?” I imagine her manager as some superhero with a cape who will use his special abilities to suck out all the pain and agony from my soul and leave me with a bright, shining optimism that makes me think I can tackle anything head-on—addiction, depression, Seth. But no one can do that. Except maybe Berlin.

  I shake my head. “It’s okay,” I whisper. Berlin is two hours late. If he doesn’t show up, I at least need my bike. Otherwise, I really am trapped.

  “Remember what I said, sweetheart,” Denise says to me, then turns to Seth and gives him the evil eye. “I’m watching you.” She shuffles away to take someone else’s order.

  “Hiroku,” he says in a voice like silk, with just the right amount of remorse and sadness. He’s the only one besides my mother who can make my name sound like a song. But despite his lilting voice, I know there’s a knife hidden underneath. I say nothing because speaking is painful and I don’t want to give him any more of my pain.

  “I can see you’re struggling,” he says. He must have noticed my hands, which won’t stop shaking, the shivers that keep rolling through my body, the sniffling and my red, wild eyes.

  “Come home and I’ll take care of you,” he coos. “You can stay the night, at least. We can talk about it after you feel better.”

  He wants to get me high in hopes I’ll forget all about it. He wants me alone, under his spell, or maybe he wants to kill me. If he can’t have me, no one will. The bell jingles and I glance back toward the door, but it’s a family of four.

  “You expecting someone?” he asks. His clever eyes study me.

  “No,” I whisper. “Leave some money on the counter.”

  I stand up and Seth quickly follows suit, dropping a fifty-dollar bill on the counter so there won’t be an argument. Denise hustles over to me. “Where do you think you’re going?” she asks, hands on her hips. “I thought you had a friend picking you up?”

  Seth’s head tilts, not missing a beat.

  “He’s here.” I give her a look.

  Her eyebrows scrunch together and she nods her head. “You live out there in Joe Vasser’s trailer, don’tcha?”

  I nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well, you take care of yourself, sweetheart.” She squeezes my arm and glares at Seth as he ushers me away from her and toward the door.

  “Where’s my bike?” I ask him when I see the van parked outside.

  “We’ll pick it up later.” He guides me to the passenger side of the van and opens the door. “Let’s go home.”

  I know home isn’t with Seth, but I have no place else to go. Seth says he has to stop in town for gas. Then he takes forever getting snacks and whatever else he needs from the convenience store. Meanwhile, my withdrawal is getting worse. I suspect Seth is drawing it out so I’ll know just how badly I need him and the drugs. I wouldn’t put it past him to make me suffer. Then I wonder if what I’m thinking is real or imagined. Maybe it’s only been five minutes and it’s the withdrawal that is warping time and making me paranoid and suspicious.

  “That took longer than I expected,” he says when he’s back in the van. I say nothing, just stare out the window. My nose is running, and I can’t decide if I’m burning hot or freezing cold. “Almost there,” he says, sounding way too excited about it.

  Back inside the trailer, Seth takes his time putting away the groceries. I’m only half with it, hunkered down on the couch under a raggedy blanket, but I swear he must be rearranging the cabinets, because he’s taking too fucking long. Finally, I can’t stand it anymore.

  “What the fuck are you waiting for?” I croak.

  He glances over at me, a look of mock surprise on his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were waiting.”

  “The fuck you didn’t,” I say viciously. The withdrawal isn’t just physical, it’s mental and emotional too. I’m my worst self coming off drugs. Maybe that’s what Seth wants me to see, the version of myself I hate most. Only then will I believe I deserve him.

  “Fuck it,” I say and head for the door. He jumps in front of it to block me.

  “I got it right here.” He pulls a baggie from his pocket. The pills are already crushed into a powder. He could have gotten me high in the diner’s bathroom or the front seat of the van. He could have eased my pain, but he chose not to. What an asshole.

  “Just have a seat,” he coaxes.

  “I can’t,” I whine and circle the tiny trailer like a lion in a cage. He goes over to the counter and starts tapping it out. My circles become smaller until I’m bouncing anxiously on the balls of my feet behind his shoulder. I need it so fucking bad. Just one more hit and I’ll be fine. I can quit tomorrow. I just need some right now to get me through.

  He cuts up the lines, but instead of letting me go first, he leans over and takes his fill.

  I realize then just how selfish he is. It’s a moment captured in high-definition, Seth leaned over the counter, taking the first hit while I suffer. Even in this one thing, he can’t be generous. Even more than when his fingers were around my throat squeezing the life out of me, in this moment, I truly hate him.

  I hear the screech of brakes outside the trailer.

  “What was that?” Seth glances around, an alarmed look on his face.

  A car door slams. “Hiro?”

  It’s Berlin. He found me.

  Seth shoots me a warning look and puts his finger to his lips. I glance at the lines already laid out before me. Seth moves away from the counter, leaving them wide open to me.

  “Hiro?” Berlin calls again, louder this time. The door handle jumps. He’s right outside the trailer. I feel his presence and his strength radiating like the sun. He’s
less than ten feet away, but the drugs are closer and they’re calling to me. Just one more hit and then I’ll quit forever.

  That’s the lie I tell myself, but even I don’t believe it. I can’t have both light and dark, goodness and pain. You don’t get what you deserve, you get what you think you deserve. The two dragons are circling each other and I have to choose.

  “Berlin,” I call like it’s my last, dying breath.

  Berlin

  HIRO CALLS for me from inside the trailer, and I shove my weight against the door. It busts open and I stumble into the dark, dank space. Hiro’s leaned against the counter, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He looks awful hunched over like that with his nose running and dark raccoon eyes. He looks twitchy too, like he’s on something, or maybe coming down from it.

  I rush over, and that’s when I see the bruises all over his neck. Seth put his hands on him. I’ll kill him. That’s why he couldn’t talk to me on the phone. My blood is boiling, but Hiro is scared and I have to be calm for him.

  “Hiro.” I pull him to me, wrap him up in my arms, and kiss his hair. I know the right thing would be to take him to the police station so we can put Seth’s ass in jail, but I don’t want him to run off again. I have to get him the hell out of this shithole and somewhere safe.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I say to him, “but I’m here now. Let’s get you home.” He sniffles against me, and his body goes limp like he’s going to collapse. I grip him tighter.

  “You’re not taking him anywhere.” I glance behind me and see Seth for the first time, holding up an electric guitar like a weapon. The whites of his eyes are huge and his face is twisted up with rage. I could kill him, but my first concern is protecting Hiro. I stand between them.

  “You must be Seth,” I say.

  “You must be the redneck who branded him.”

  Behind me, Hiro says weakly, “It wasn’t him.”