by Mia Ford
Mom stared at me. “What did we say about letting that drop?”
My cheeks grew hot with embarrassment and I glanced down into my lap. “Um,” I stammered softly. “That it wouldn’t happen.”
“And what else?”
“No matter what,” I added quickly. “That it wouldn’t drop no matter what.”
Mom nodded. She didn’t look happy anymore – she looked stern, like she did when she was upset.
“Well, what happened, Kristin?”
I took a deep breath. At least she’s not using my full name, I thought. I knew that whenever I heard “Kristin Mae Calloway” that meant I was really in trouble!
“I missed a question on a quiz last week.”
“And that was enough to drop your grade?” Mom crossed her arms over her narrow chest and stared. “Are you sure you’re telling the truth?”
Just as I was about to go into a passionate defense of my own studies, the door swung open and Dean walked in.
“Hi, all,” Dean said. He nodded at me, then walked over to Mom and kissed her on the cheek. As soon as I saw his expression, I knew something was up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Don’t worry about it, Kristin,” Dean said. He glanced down at me. “Everything okay?”
Mom sighed. I prayed she wouldn’t say anything, but she opened her mouth anyway. “Kristin’s grade point average slipped a little,” she said. She looked at me and smiled. “But we talked, and it’s fine. She’s going to get it back up. She’s working on that right now.”
I could have sighed with relief but instead I smiled back, grateful for such a wonderful, supportive mother.
“Ah,” Dean said. I was surprised that he didn’t have more to say – normally, he was more strict about making sure that I did well in school than Mom was.
“Honey?” Mom turned to Dean. “What happened? You’re home so early.”
Dean shrugged. “I got a call,” he said slowly, keeping his eyes on me. “You know. About Andrew.”
Instantly, my ears perked up. I couldn’t wait to hear what Dean was about to say – if I was lucky enough to be allowed to stay in the room. Andrew Medina, Dean’s son, was my stepbrother. He was five years older than me, and endlessly cool. I’d always had a little…well, I don’t really know what to call it. But as soon as he walked into the room, my eyes always went right to him. It was like I couldn’t look away. Not because of anything bad, though. While I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, the way I felt about Andrew was almost like I had a crush on him.
Honestly, it was hard not to feel that way. He was so handsome – sexy, messy dark hair that stood up in cowlicks all over his head. Dark, intense eyes. A chiseled jaw covered with dark scruff. I especially loved the way he looked at people – almost like he could see right through them.
The first time I met Andrew, I was sixteen. He was twenty-one, and finishing up college in Boston. I didn’t know anything about him – Dean had always talked about “my son” this and “my son” that, but it wasn’t like the anecdotes were actually personal. It was stuff like, “my son loves oranges,” or “my son hated doing this, too.”
So, I was completely unprepared when I actually met Andrew. I hadn’t really known what to expect. Dean himself was a pretty normal, stand-up guy – the exact kind of guy I always saw Mom going for. I imagined that his son, Andrew, would just be like a tiny version of him.
Needless to say, I was really shocked when Andrew pulled into the driveway and swaggered into the house. There were no other words for it – he was just cool. He had longish dark hair that he kept pushing away from his forehead in a messy, practiced gesture. His dark eyes sought out all of the movement in the room. When he saw me, he stared. First his eyes traveled down my face, then my body. When I realized that he was lingering on my breasts, I blushed bright red.
“So you’re Kristin?”
I nodded. My mouth felt dry and I was getting weak in the knees. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I’m Kristin. You’re Andrew?”
Instead of answering, Andrew licked his lips (they were surprisingly full, for a man) and gave a brief jerk of his head. His dark hair went flying and my palms itched – suddenly, I was desperate to know what it would feel like if I ran my fingers through his dark locks.
Andrew smirked. “So, what do you do for fun around here?”
I licked my lips. “Fun?”
Andrew rolled his eyes. “Yeah, fun,” he replied. He leaned closer, putting his hands on the dining room table until he was mere inches away from my face.
“I study,” I said. A peculiar feeling was spreading through my limbs – a blend of excitement and arousal and the odd sensation that Andrew was making fun of me, even though he hadn’t said anything to that effect.
Andrew raised his eyebrows. “Studying,” he drawled. “Yeah, that does sound fun.” He peered intently into my eyes and I felt a shiver run down my spine. “I bet you really know how to throw a party, Sis.”
My cheeks burned flame red and I shook my head fast enough to make my brown curls obscure my vision.
“I can’t really go to parties,” I said. I was mortified – my voice was barely above a whisper. I desperately wanted Andrew to think I was cool, too, but I was doing such a piss-poor job of it that I might as well just give up and slink upstairs.
“Well, here’s the thing with good ole Mom and Dad,” Andrew said sarcastically. “They only know what you tell them. So, if you wanna have fun, you gotta do that on your own time.”
He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his black leather jacket and lit up, right in the middle of the kitchen. Wreaths of blue smoke clouded around Andrew’s head, rising up to the shiny white ceiling that Mom and Dean had painted just days before.
“I don’t think Mom and Dean would like you doing that,” I said, unable to stop myself. Andrew just smirked in response. I winced and blushed – god! It was like I couldn’t fuck up any more if I actually tried!
“Well, I do lots of stuff Dad wouldn’t like,” Andrew said. He exhaled right in my face and I started coughing violently as the toxic smoke rushed into my lungs. Before I could get a chance to ask him what he’d meant, Mom and Dean rushed into the room and as I’d predicted, began scolding Andrew about smoking in their house.
That had been six years ago. Even though I’d grown up from a teenager into a young woman, I knew deep down that I was still the perfect goody two-shoes, the little princess who listened to every word that came out of Mommy or Daddy’s mouth.
No wonder Andrew thinks I’m a drip, I thought as I watched Mom and Dean exchange a terse look.
“So, what happened?” Mom tried to keep her voice down. I was staring down at my papers, but my ears were glued to the mouths of my parents. I was desperate to hear what they had to say about Andrew – it was the most thrilling thing that had happened to me in at least six months.
“Carissa,” Dean said. I imagined him jerking his head towards me. “Shouldn’t we talk upstairs?”
Mom sighed. I got ready for the inevitable – surely, she and Dean would tell me to leave the room. But what she said shocked me.
“I think Kristin is old enough to hear what Andrew is really like,” Mom said. She flicked her gaze over me. I felt my cheeks flush as I pretended again to be absorbed in my studies.
“Well, if you’re sure,” Dean said slowly. My heart was pounding in my chest as Dean and Mom walked over to the table and sat down.
Play it cool, Kristin, I told myself. Just play it cool. It’ll be fine. I knew I was acting ridiculous, but I couldn’t help it – this was a huge deal for me.
“What happened?” I glance up from my schoolwork at Mom and Dean, trying to read their faces.
“Andrew has always been…difficult,” Dean said tightly. He smiled unhappily. “And while your mother and I have always tried to help, I think that he’s beyond help right now.”
I frowned. “Why? What did he do?”
Mom sighed. “Honey, it’s not really a
question of what he did. It’s more of who he is, really.”
“I’m confused.” I bit my lip. It wasn’t a lie. I was so sheltered that I truly didn’t have any idea of what constituted as a “bad” person. If you’d asked me to name someone who was bad, I probably would have replied: “someone who doesn’t pay their cell phone bill on time.”
“Well, honey, don’t worry about it too much,” Mom said with a sigh. She turned to Dean. “What did you hear?”
“He was living with another man,” Dean said through gritted teeth.
I frowned. “Like a roommate?”
“No,” Dean said sharply. “They shared a bedroom.” He and my mother exchanged another dark look. “And it was sinful, Kristin. Do you understand?”
My heart skipped a beat and I swallowed. Was Andrew….gay? The thought alone made me blush. I’d never met a gay person before. My best friend, Megan, had kissed another girl at a party once and it had been one of the most scandalous things I’d ever witnessed. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be intimate with someone of my same sex. The thought was honestly pretty disturbing.
“I understand,” I said quietly.
“How long has this been going on?” Mom asked.
“I have no idea,” Dean said. He sighed, making it clear that this matter weighed heavily on his conscience. “But the private investigator told me that it looks like Andrew and this…other man…were very established in a relationship.”
“Oh my god,” Mom said. “I had no idea, Dean. He needs help.”
“He’s an adult,” Dean said sharply. “He’s free to sin, he’s free to make decisions that will damn him.” He looked at me and I shrank in my chair. “Kristin, do you realize that your stepbrother is a deviant? That he’s not normal?” Dean raised his eyebrows, making it clear that I was supposed to agree.
“Right,” I squeaked. “He’s not normal.”
“No he’s not,” Mom agreed firmly. She pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. “Kristin, please leave us. Your stepfather and I have some important things to discuss.”
As I ran up the stairs and darted into my room, I couldn’t help but feel relieved. Oddly, the news about Andrew wasn’t exactly shocking. He’d always been a little different. The weird thing was, I didn’t understand why Mom and Dean were so upset. I mean, sure, it was a sin in the eyes of God…at least, that’s what our Baptist preacher said every week. But it didn’t mean Andrew was any different as a person, right? I mean, if he’d always been like this. I didn’t know what the big deal was.
I normally wasn’t allowed to close my bedroom door for any reason other than changing clothes, but I shut the door quietly behind me and grabbed my laptop from my schoolbag. When I checked my email, it was mostly spam. But I did see an email from my best friend, Megan. Eagerly, I clicked on it.
“Hey girl,
I’m going to Boston for the weekend – I’m gonna stay with my cousin, Amanda. Do you want to come? I bet you’re really wanting a break by now.
Xoxoxo,
Megan”
Instantly, my mood lifted. I definitely wanted to go – even though there was slim chance of my parents allowing it, I was dying to get out of the house.
I just wished they weren’t so upset about Andrew. Maybe that’s a good thing, I thought as I skimmed over Megan’s email for what felt like the fifth time. Maybe since they’re distracted, they won’t even think about it.
The minutes until dinner time crawled by, I couldn’t concentrate on my work, so I’d pulled out Pride & Prejudice for the tenth time. I’d read it so frequently that I almost had it memorized, but it was still my favorite book of all time. Even though it took place in the nineteenth century, there was still something so relevant about the way Jane and Lizzy dealt with men like Bingley and Darcy.
When it was time to eat, I bolted downstairs. The kitchen smelled delicious – I could tell that Mom had made her standard chicken soup – and I sat down in a chair, primly folding my hands in my lap until Dean and Mom joined me. They weren’t speaking much, and Dean’s lips were twisted in a permanent scowl.
It was clear that Andrew and his “deviancy” were still very much on their minds.
By the time Mom and Dean sat down, the trip to Boston was practically all I could think about. I played along with their small talk for a few minutes, sipping my soup and eating quietly.
“Kristin, what’s on your mind?” Dean passed me the bread basket and I took a small roll, toying with it in my fingers. “You’ve been awfully quiet this evening.”
“Oh, not much,” I said, trying to keep my voice as casual as possible. “Just…my friend, Megan, from school emailed me. She’s going to Boston and wanted to know if I could come with her.”
“That sounds nice,” Mom said mildly. My heart soared as she looked at me. “When?”
“This weekend,” I said, buttering a piece of my roll. My stomach was churning but I knew I had to keep up the pretense of at least looking hungry.
“Well, I don’t see why not,” Mom said. Just as I was about to leap out of my chair and jump for joy, the other foot came crashing down.
“Just as long as you’re home for supper,” Dean said. He passed me the green beans and I took them numbly.
I licked my lips. I knew it was now or never.
“Well, that’s the thing,” I said carefully. “Megan doesn’t really like driving at night – it’s dangerous, you know – and she’s going to stay over with her cousin Amanda. She invited me to spend the night, too.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Mom said. She frowned. “Boston is a big city, Kristin. Where does Amanda live?”
My mind buzzed and whirred and finally, I spat out the name of the first neighborhood I could think of. “Jamaica Plain.”
Mom frowned. “That neighborhood has a lot of crime activity,” she said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go.”
Something snapped inside of me. I knew I shouldn’t argue with my parents, but I’d had enough. It felt like every time something good happened to me, Mom and Dean had to step in and snatch it away.
“That’s not fair,” I said hotly, standing up from the table. Mom and Dean both looked at me in shock.
“Kristin, sit down,” Mom said sharply. “We’re still eating.”
“I’m an adult!” I said loudly, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m twenty-two years old! I’m not a little kid anymore!”
Mom’s eyes burned with anger. “Yes, and you’re living under this roof,” she said hotly. “You don’t get to make demands like this.”
“But I’m not a child! You can’t keep me here!”
“Well, Kristin, if you feel that way, you’re welcome to move out,” Dean said. “You’ll need to find a job so you can pay for school, and housing, and your cell phone, and utilities, and insurance, and all of your other bills.” His calm smile infuriated me. “And as soon as you do that, you’re free to do things like visit Boston for the weekend. But until then, it’s our rules.”
I stared at him, my mouth hanging open in shock.
“This is why Andrew acted out,” I cried loudly. “You didn’t give him any room to breathe!”
Before Mom and Dean could say anything else, I spun around and stomped up the stairs. Hot tears leaked from my eyes and I slammed my bedroom door behind me, throwing myself on the bed and sobbing.
It’s not fair, I thought angrily. I hate them for doing this to me! The tears burned my eyes as they streamed down my face and my nose was filled with gluey, wet snot.
Eventually, I cried myself to sleep.
The next week dragged by. Christmas was the usual family affair – we went to Mom’s parents’ house first, then to Dean’s father’s for a second dinner. Both events were full of cousins whom I’d rarely spoken with before, and I didn’t exactly have high hopes for gifts. I’d worked hard to knit Mom and Dean scarves. They seemed to like them okay, but honestly, I was still angry over the whole Boston thing. I
was starting to realize that being sheltered wasn’t exactly a good thing.
Andrew hadn’t come home. I hadn’t exactly expected him to do so, but it still felt like a loss. When we were at Dean’s father’s house, I snuck into the hallway and looked at pictures of Andrew as a little kid. With his big eyes and curly dark hair, he gave every indication that he’d grow up to be a real devil.
When class started up again, Megan was in my biology seminar. After class, we got coffee in the student union. It was the first time I’d seen her since the previous semester, and I felt like we had loads to talk about. Or at least, she had loads to talk about. The most exciting thing I’d done all break was help Mom bake cookies for the annual church bake sale.
“Oh my god,” I gushed when I saw Megan. She’d cut her butt-length straight red hair into a chic bob that showed off her jawline. She was wearing a black leather jacket and sleek leggings – she looked at least five years older.
“Santa really hooked me up this year,” Megan said with a smirk. “How was your Christmas?”
I rolled my eyes. “Horrible,” I mumbled. “I’m so sick of Mom and Dean right now. They keep treating me like such a little kid.”
Megan nodded sympathetically. Like me, she’d grown up with strict parents. But her parents had gotten a divorce while she was in high school, and after that, Megan’s mom turned out to be pretty wild. She lived at home, too, but unlike me, she had basically free reign. She also had her own car, and she’d had three boyfriends. I was worlds below her in terms of experience.
“Well, I’m going to Boston again this weekend,” Megan said. She smirked. “Why not tell your parents that you’re staying over with me and come with? Amanda is so much fun,” she gushed. “When we were there, she took me to this brewery and there were so many hot guys working. I got like, six phone numbers.”
My palms itched at the thought of getting even one phone number.
“Wow,” I said. “And, um, I don’t know. I feel really weird lying.”
“Kristin,” Megan said dryly. “You have to do this, girl. You owe it to yourself.”
