Unsocial

by Dykes, Nicole

  She sighs, "Dylan, it's really nothing."

  "Then tell me.”

  She sighs heavily, “When I was 15 my grandma became ill. She had breast cancer and went through chemo. She got pneumonia really bad, and I had to call 911 at one o-clock in the morning because she couldn’t breathe. They wouldn’t let me stay in the hospital with her, and since I was only 15 with nowhere else to go, they called social services.”

  “What about Alex’s family?” I know as close as the two of them are that she could have stayed with them.

  “Her parents were teachers, and they were in Florida for the summer like always. I usually would go down and stay part of the time with them, but my grandma was so sick I didn’t want to leave her. It was just a temporary stay until she could come home.”

  It’s hard for me to ask, “Was it bad?”

  “The first time wasn’t bad. She lady was single and in her late 40s. There were two smaller children there. She was what was considered an emergency temporary foster parent. I could only stay there up to two weeks before they would find me a family to stay with longer. Like the lady who had the kids when you went to pick them up. She’s a sweet lady, and we use her a lot for temporary foster care.”

  I nod, "You said that was the first time, what about the second time?”

  A shudder runs through her, "That time was worse. She had a stroke not long after coming home, and Alex’s family still had a month before they were coming home. They offered to fly me down there, but I couldn’t leave my grandma. She’s the only family I had, and I was so scared that something bad would happen, and I wouldn’t be there. She went in the hospital for three weeks, and I ended up in a different home."

  Her arms tighten around me like she’s trying to ground herself to here and now and not get lost in then. I’m not sure if I'm prepared to hear this, but I need to. I need her to be able to talk to me about anything. "What happened?"

  She shrugs, and I think she would make a damn good Monroe. My heart picks up speed at the thought of her being a Monroe because I swear she will be.

  "It really was nothing. I was placed in a house with a couple in their 40s who didn't have children of their own. There were two other girls there around my age; I didn’t know them. They didn’t go to my school. The woman was always angry. She hated us and would call us sluts or tramps. Didn't take me long to figure out her behavior was because of her husband. He was a total creep. Always making inappropriate comments and touching us. Like rubbing our shoulders or putting his hands on our knees when he would sit too close. Sometimes he brushed his hand across our butts when we walked by. It was so disgusting and dirty."

  I swallow the lump in my throat. I don't like where this is going.

  She continues, "He never really crossed the line until I had been there about a week. The bathroom door conveniently had no lock, and he just walked in as I was coming out of the shower. He knew I was in the shower, and he waited until he heard the water turn off to come in. I just know it."

  My fists clench in my lap as I listen to Brooke’s story, "Did you report the sonofabitch?"

  She nods, "I called the social worker’s number, and she told me that I was probably mistaking affection for abuse and that the shower incident was an accident. Of course, it was because I hadn’t grown up with a father and I could easily confuse the two."

  "What the fuck? She didn't do anything?"

  She shakes her head. “The guy was a trucker, so he wasn't home all that often, and I got pretty good at avoiding him. I decided to keep my head down until my grandma got better."

  She laughs sadly, "It worked for about a week and a half, but then I messed up. It was late, and I couldn’t sleep, so I snuck out from the room I shared with the other two girls to watch TV in the living room. There was one TV in the house, and it was always for the adults to use. He came barging in the house smelling like cigarettes and alcohol. I could tell by the look on his face when he saw me that I needed to get out of there."

  My whole body tenses. I swear if this fucker touched her, I don't care how long ago it was, I'm going to find him. "Brooke."

  "Nothing happened. I mean, not really. He sat down next to me before I could escape. He grabbed my thigh just below my sleep shorts and called me a tease. He said we were all driving him crazy and were always trying to tempt him. He tried to kiss me, and I turned away, but he pinned me down. Finally, I brought my knee up enough to hit him in the balls, and when he jerked away, I punched him in the throat. After that, I hauled ass to the next door neighbors.”

  I’m angry for what she had to go through but so glad she was able to get away from him. "What happened after that?"

  "They called the cops. All three of us girls were taken to another home, and then my grandma got well enough to come home not long after that. But, Dylan, that’s why we can’t let the kids go into foster care. I was just there a couple of weeks and look what happened. Just from working in social services I could tell you dozens more stories that are even worse than my experience.”

  "That's why you became a social worker and why it means so damn much to you."

  "Yeah, I suppose. I grew up without a real family. My grandmother was so wonderful, and I love and appreciate her for stepping in and raising me when my own parents wouldn’t even try, but I still always wanted a family of my own. That’s why I do what I do, for the families and to keep them together. I just want to do what little I can to improve on a flawed system. My first week as a social worker I looked up that last family I was with to make sure they weren't foster parents, which they aren’t. But I noticed that before my call to the police that night that the man had been reported three other times as being inappropriate."

  I know the system can be bad, but come the fuck on, "And they didn't do anything?"

  "No. Social work has quite the reputation for being a profession where you are overworked and underpaid. Unfortunately, things like this get missed, but with every case, I make it a goal to try to do some good. All that paperwork I do, a lot of that is looking for any complaints from my clients who are in foster care. I just want to do some good for the families that truly deserve to be together.”

  "You do a lot of good. Everyone you work for is lucky to have you on our side.”

  Her face falls, "Are they? Look at the position your family is in."

  I furrow my brow, "Of course they are. And so are we. Stop worrying about us so much. We’re going to be fine."

  "I just, I don't know, Dylan. What if I’ve messed up and end up failing you and the kids?”

  "What do you mean?"

  "What I mean is, and please don't get me wrong, but what if I should have had your case reassigned from the beginning, or at least when I knew that I was too attracted to you and in danger of losing my professionalism. The lines were blurred from the beginning, and I can't help but question my decision to continue being your social worker."

  It hurts she feels this way, "You haven't done anything wrong. You’ve been willing to go above and beyond for us whenever one of us called, and that was before we started dating.”

  “Maybe I’m showing too much favoritism.”

  “No, that doesn’t mean you’re doing any more for us than the others.”

  "Doesn't it? What about Luke's fight? I didn't report it right away; I'm still sitting on it."

  I know she’s worried about her ethics, but she has to realize how devoted she is to all her families. "And you don't think you would do that for any other clients? If you knew they were a good family that deserved some extra help to remain together, you wouldn’t do all you can for them?”

  She considers my question, "You're right. I would."

  "Exactly. You don't have to worry about your professionalism or ethics. This thing with you and me is separate from client and caseworker. We are a matter of the heart. Your job, the judge, your supervisor don’t get to call those shots, babe. Professionally, is it wrong, who the fuck knows, but it is what it is.” I hold both sides of he
r face and kiss her sweet lips, "Brooke, I will fix this. I won't let anything happen to you or my family. I…" She looks into my eyes, my sweet, understanding girlfriend. Fuck it, just say the words, "I fucking love you, Brooke Porter, I am in fucking love with you so deep I don’t even think its love because love doesn’t seem strong enough of a word for how I feel about you. I’ve never said those words to another person because I was waiting all my life to say them to you. No matter what, it’s going to be you and me, together.”

  She turns her body to straddle me, sliding her fingers through my hair to lock our gazes. "I love you too, so much. And I don't want you to think I don't trust you. This….I guess this just dredged up some awful memories that I still have issues with, and it would slay me to see that happen to the girls or Michael. Luke, would probably kick someone’s ass, but…”

  "I get it." I pull her close to kiss her, "I'm going to talk to Luke, and then I will call you. Try not to worry. Now fucking kiss me."

  I slant my eager mouth across hers, and we kiss away what we can of the frustration, worry, and fucking drama that’s been biting at our heels for the last week. But we also reaffirm what is so important about us, we love each other, and we say it each brush of our lips and slide of our tongue. Our kisses are hungry yet satisfying at the same time. When we finally come up for air, I make her promise to relax and wait for my call before driving home to keep my promise about talking to Luke and fixing the mess we’ve landed.

  I greet Gabby and Michael, who are lounging on the sectional watching an afterschool special or some shit while Cassie is lying upside down in my huge recliner talking on her phone. I’m heading straight to Luke's room.

  I knock. “Come in.” When I open the door, he’s lying on the bed, tossing a baseball into the air and catching it. I watch him for a moment, unsure how to start the conversation.

  Then I remember telling Brooke I love her, and how easy it was to say those three words, and now I'm surprisingly calm. "Luke, listen to me, I know this has been a fucked up week."

  "Yeah, no shit. So, are here to beg me not to turn you two into the judge or some shit?”

  "No, actually I don't think you would do that at all. I’m here to talk to you because you’re my brother, and we have to find common ground so we can get along. We can’t go on with all this fucking fighting back and forth all the time.”

  "Yeah, well right now I don't want to talk to you. You're such a fucking hypocrite. All, this time, you’ve been screwing Brooke, which damn sure explains why you’re so pissed about me getting in a fight. Scared I’m gonna mess shit up for you with her?”

  "No. I was pissed because it doesn't look good in our file. It can fuck up my getting guardianship. You wanna tell me why you got in a fight with Brent?"

  He gives me his famous, ‘fuck off’ stare. I don’t understand why he's so closed mouth about it, so I’ll come back to it. Right now there’s something else I’ve got to get off my chest. "Fine, you don't have to tell me, yet. Right now I want to apologize."

  That gets his attention, "What the hell for?"

  I grab his desk chair and turn it around backward to sit down. "I was gone for three years of your life, and I owe you an explanation as well as an apology. You're clearly pissed about it, and you have every right to be."

  "Please, I'm not upset about some bullshit that happened over three years ago."

  "Look, I know you have to be aware that my relationship with dad was pretty damn bad. And I’m pretty sure you know that he and I had a big fight about me dropping out of college to open the shop with Jax. But that’s why I wasn’t around, but it’s not a good excuse for not contacting you or the others.”

  He swallows hard, "Yeah, it was pretty fucking shitty of you not to call or write back.”

  My head drops to my clenched fist on the back of the office chair. Fuck, I messed up. "I'm sorry Luke, it was all so stupid. I swear if I could go back I wouldn’t let my stupid-ass pride keep me away from my family. It had nothing to do with you or the kids. It was just selfish pride because my fucking feelings were hurt."

  "It was because we didn't go to your grand opening." I notice it’s a statement and not a question.

  "How did you know about that?"

  "I was the first one who saw the invitation from you. I was so excited and begged mom and dad to go, but they wouldn’t. Dad tore it up and forbid us to ask about it again."

  I had no idea he even knew about the party, and I can picture him at 13 begging our father to let him go to a badass party and then getting shot down and basically ordered not to ask again. The whole thing sounds so fucking familiar. "I'm sorry, I was a prick. You and the kids had no choice, and I took my anger and hurt out on you four. I don’t deserve forgiveness or trust for my behavior, but I would like to try and earn it.”

  He nods, "I'm sorry about the fight threatening our case, but I'm not sorry about beating the shit out of Brent."

  "I've been thinking about it, and I don't think you would fight for just any girl." He shakes his head no. I fucking knew it. I’m going with a hunch here, “What did he say about Cassie?"

  His eyes narrow angrily at the question, and I know I’m right. "He called her a cock tease at lunch, really fucking loudly when her new boyfriend walked through."

  I nod, no doubt I would have beat the shit out of him too. "Yeah, I can't stand that little prick. But there probably could have been a better way to handle it.” I've got to say something responsible even though I’m team Luke all the way on this.

  "I would have just stopped at telling him to shut his fucking mouth, but he just kept on talking. So I decided I would hit him once, and then the dumbass stood up and decided to try and engage. I wasn’t going down a punk, and I goddamn sure wasn’t gonna let him think its okay to say shit about my sister.”

  "Truthfully, I'm proud of you for sticking up for her."

  "Don't tell her what happened."

  I laugh and shake my head, “Luke, its high school. How long do you think it’ll stay a secret? I’m surprised she doesn’t know already.”

  He gives me a wicked grin, one that I’ve seen many times in the mirror, “Because I rule the school, bro. All I said was my sister better not hear a damn word about what happened. Everyone in the cafeteria nearly shit their pants at that threat. Scared I’d make them next.”

  Flashback to high school. I also ruled the school.

  It’s probably really, really wrong to feel so much pride for my little brother right now, but fuck if I don’t.

  I stand up, and he joins me. "You're a good man, Luke." I hold my hand out, and we bring it in for a one-armed bro hug. "I'll think about shortening your sentence, and you can go to the prom. All I ask is just take it easy for two months please."

  He grins and he says, "I was never going to tell anyone else about you and Brooke."

  I laugh and add a quick, "I know."

  “Dylan,” He sounds serious, so I hesitate. “You and Brooke?”

  “I love her, man. I know it looks bad or wrong, but it’s not. We planned on keeping it a secret until this fucking year was over and we wouldn’t have to hide anymore. Neither of us likes it, but we had to do it.”

  He smiles and nods. “I get it. Brooke’s the best, and you’re a lucky man. So try not to fuck it up.”

  My laugh lacks any humor, “I’ve been trying for the last four months.”

  “Oh, shit,” He says finally understanding.

  I lift my hand in a wave and leave.

  Upstairs I finally get to call Brooke and give her the good news about my talk with Luke.

  “Thank God,” She whispers down the phone line.

  “I told you, baby. Just have faith in your man. Brooke,” I say suddenly serious, “I’ll always take care of you.”

  “I know, and I love you for it. And I’m always going to take care of you right back.”

  We talk a little longer; both of us are reluctant to break the connection, but when she yawns, I know the events of the pas
t week have caught up with her. Hell, I’m feeling beat too. I just hope the next few weeks go a hell of a lot smoother. “I love you. Now go to bed,” I order her.

  “I love you back.”

  Sweetest fucking words I’ve ever heard.

  Chapter 38

  Brooke

  I hit end on my phone and sigh in relief. After hearing about his conversation with Luke, calm finally settles over me. He did it. He made everything okay again after what could have been a real shit storm of epic proportions for both of us.

  He even reassured me that Luke seems to be okay with us, and that means so much. I can only hope now that the rest of the kids will feel the same. Then there’s Jax. I don’t know how that conversation is going to go, but I wish Dylan luck. I feel a little guilty that he seems to be the one that’s putting all the fires out while I’ve sat back and worried. Other than talking to Alex, what have I done? We should be doing this together. We both went in with both eyes open, and he’s the one taking the hits to protect us both.

  “So, any news on how things are going on the home front?”

  I smile at Alex, “Actually I just hung up from talking to Dylan. He and Luke had a long talk and cleared up some misunderstandings that have been standing between them. He also told Luke about us, and Luke seems to be fine with it all.”

  “That has to make you both feel better. And I’m sure the others will love the idea of you and Dylan being together.”

  “Speaking of love,” I watch her closely to see her reaction to my next announcement. “He told me he loves me, that he’s in love with me,” my voice drops to a whisper in wonder remembering how earnest he sounded when he said those words to me.

  “Oh, Brooke. Oh my, God, that’s, I don’t even know what to say, but that’s huge. I’m sorry I was such a bitch instead of a friend.”

  “Alex, you don’t have to apologize. These last months have been so difficult not being able to tell you. You’re my best friend, and I wanted to be able to share everything that was happening and that I was falling in love with this amazing man. Looking back, I know it was naïve of us to think we could get away with keeping it a secret, but we took that chance together. Dylan told me he’s glad it’s out because he was getting so tired of hiding it, and I have to agree that it feels really good to be able to tell you and talk to you about us.”