by Hall, Marie
“When does she move in?”
Smile curving wider, my mother says, “Tomorrow.”
“Already?”
“Are you not happy? I thought you’d be happy.”
“Mama,” I shake my head, “you were never a burden for me.”
“Enough.” She puts on a determined face, the one she’d given me growing up, the one that says back down now, or face the consequences of my wrath. So I shut up. “I’ll not have my daughter become a martyr in my own home. Your life has barely begun, Lili. My mind is made up. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, you go out.”
There are a million ideas why this is such a bad idea, not the least of which is Javi.
“But, mom--”
Lifting her brows, she says, “Liliana, you’re my daughter. You think I don’t know how your mind works? You’re going to tell me that Javi can’t handle it. That’s not true. Javi knows Ade very well. He doesn’t scream or rage when she comes around, which means he likes her. You need breaks every once in a while. You don’t work tomorrow, so what’s your next excuse?”
“Homework? Reading?”
“It’s Friday.” She huffs. “I can come back with an answer every time. You’re going out, but whether you have fun or not, that’s entirely up to you.”
***
Ryan
Rolling over, I stare at the woman with her arms draped over my chest. I don’t know her. I never do anymore. And I like it like that, so much easier to kick them out in the morning.
I can’t sleep.
Why the hell did I come back to Austin?
Moving her arm away, I sit up. The silver dog tags around my neck wink from the sliver of moonlight spilling through my window. It’s too early. Running fingers through my hair I push aside the curtain and stare up at the sky.
It’s bursting with stars.
When I’d flown back to the states I knew I couldn’t live anywhere near my folks. In the four years I’d been away they’d never tried to contact me once. So when I’d returned I hadn’t felt the need to tell them so. Far as they know their wayward child is still a Marine and still fighting in Afghanistan.
There are no neighbors where I live, which is good, considering I’m not much of a fan of clothes in the house.
Texas is quiet tonight-- only the low rumble of thunder in the distance and gentle hum of cicadas out my window disturb the peaceful night.
She snores and I glower.
I can’t think in here.
The room is hot and stifling; the AC froze up last night.
Walking toward the kitchen, I grab my skull and rub. She has to leave, first second she wakes up. I can’t stand her in my house anymore, filling the rooms with her awful stench of smokes and sweat and beer.
Grabbing a mug out of the cabinet I put some water to boil and then look for the tea bags. A bedroom door opens. It’s my cousin, Alex.
We look nothing alike. I’m dark, he’s blond. Got it from his mom. Slimmer than me, but still athletic, he’s also taller by a good six inches, and the only member of my family I can still stand. He’s also my roommate.
Which, so far, no one knows about. Small miracle that.
Because though I’d been so sure I wouldn’t live anywhere near my parents, somehow I wound up only thirty minutes away from the home I’d grown up in. Thank God Austin’s so huge.
“Dude,” he rubs his eyes, “it’s four fucking thirty in the morning.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I wave him off.
When his eyes adjust he blinks and then grimaces. “Clothes, Ryan. Damn. First you wake me up, then you walk around buck assed naked in my house. Give’s a man nightmares.”
Snorting, I walk to the dryer in the laundry room and pull out a pair of track pants I’d washed but hadn’t yet folded. Putting them on, I hold my arms out. “Better?”
“Not really.” Walking up to the stove he glances at the kettle. “Making your wussy tea again?”
I don’t bother answering. Yeah, it’s not the most manly thing, but I like chamomile. It calms me, and right now I feel anything but. There’s a raging fire burning in my gut, beating in my skull. Tomorrow’s the day.
I fucking hate Valentine’s Day.
The kettle whistles and my hands tremble as I pour the water into my mug.
I feel his eyes on me.
He sees too much, knows almost everything.
Sometimes I think I was stupid to still keep him around. But no matter how much I try to shake him, Alex never leaves.
I swear he’d planted a beacon in my ass right before I left to the Marines, because fourteen hours after landing back in Texas, he’d found me. Told me I was stuck with him and we never talk about the rest.
Mostly.
Though sometimes he likes to push things a little too far.
“So tomorrow,” he says slowly.
Jaw clenching, I pretend not to hear him and drop the tea bag into my mug.
“Are we doing it again?”
“What the hell, dude?” I growl, shoving passed him as I walk to the kitchen table. “Can’t a man just drink his tea in peace?”
“We have to talk about this.”
“No the hell we don’t.” I take a sip even though I know the tea’s not ready.
The water’s so hot it burns my tongue immediately, but it barely fazes me. The throbbing helps me to stay centered and focused on the now. Not the past that haunts my every waking moment like some damn specter in a horror movie.
I turn to him the second he sits. His hair is poking up everywhere, his eyes still semi-swollen from sleep and glinting with worry.
“Man, how long we gonna keep pretending this never happened?”
Every muscle in my arm tenses. I want to hit him. To smash my fist through his nose, break it in half, crack his jaw the way his dad had done mine. I’d learned things in the Marines. How to fight, how to kill.
I’m not the same kid who’d left, the one who’d screamed and cried like a little bitch because I’d had an owwy.
“I’m not talking about this. We still on or what?”
Alex sighs. A heavy sound that speaks volumes-- that says he’s tired, but he still holds out hope that someday he’ll reach me.
I want to laugh. There’s no more hope. This is who I am now.
Nothing.
“Yeah.” Alex finally nods, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, we’re still on. But I get to pick the place this time.” He narrows his eyes. “And the second I say you’re done. You’re done. You got it.” His voice shivers with the faint stirrings of a snarl.
“It’s cute the way you think you can intimidate me,” I snort. “You don’t have to come with me, but I’m going either way.”
I drink my tea, staring at him hard over the edge of my mug.
“I said I was going, don’t be such an ass, Ryan. I just care, man. Okay, that’s it.” He shoves away from the table, disgust written all over his face.
The door slams down the hall.
I could have told him to save his care for someone who matters. That I’m not worth caring about. That there’s nothing left in me anymore. I’m a used up, hollowed out, shell of a man.
But I swallow the words like I swallow everything else.
Because I’m good at that.
Chapter 3
Liliana
My head is pounding. It’d taken me an hour to get back to sleep after that conversation with my mom. I shouldn’t have bothered going back to bed knowing I’d have to get up in less than two, but I had, and now I feel like crap.
It would have been nice if maybe the day had followed my mood, been a little gloomy and cold. But no, it’s bright, and light, and cheery. The sky is blue, birds are singing in the trees, and the campus lawn is littered with students. Some of them laughing, others studying, and even a few full on making out.
I love college. Love everything about it.
After giving birth, I’d sworn my life was over. But a counselor had told me that my grades w
ere good enough that if I kept working at it I could eventually win a scholarship. I’d worked my ass off and as luck would have it, I did get one.
A great one actually.
Room and Board-- the full ride. It’d always been my dream to attend the University of Texas, to live in the dorms, party it up on the weekends, join a sorority… but once Javi came… well, that dream went into a six foot ditch and got covered over with dirt. There was no choice but to stay at home, watch mom and Javi and not think about (ever) what I’d given up the moment I’d chosen to have him.
Coffee’s an all-consuming obsession at this point. I have an hour between classes. Running across the street, I head to ‘Chai Time’. The second I open the door I’m blasted with my favorite scents in the whole wide world-- smoky coffee and frothy cream. Inhaling deeply, I smile at the guy working the counter.
“Alex! Hey,” I wave. “Haven’t seen you in a few days.”
His blond good looks and gray eyes had made my heart dip the first time I’d met him a few months ago. He’d definitely seemed interested, but I’d ignored him. Dating wasn’t an option for someone like me.
After a while he’d obviously realized I wasn’t interested and things have become friendlier. Actually, he’s one of my favorite people on the campus, even though we only ever meet in passing.
Handing a cup to the customer in front of me, he smiles back. “Hey, Lili bean. Looking sexy as ever.”
I smirk, stomach tightening with a feathery tickle. “Happy Valentine’s day.”
Rolling his eyes, he groans.
“That bad, huh?”
“You could say that.” Grabbing a cup he starts working on my order.
The great thing about being a regular is that I never have to say what I want any more-- venti mocha latte with soy and no cream, yummy.
“Cousin’s got this thing for hittin’ up a bar until he’s totally wasted.”
Nose wrinkling, I shake my head. “Sounds like a blast.”
Actually it sounds more like a nightmare.
“Yeah, it’s his yearly ritual.” He turns on the frothing spout, it purrs to life loudly. “Actually it sucks balls and I hate it.”
His smile’s really nice and I glance down at my feet, feeling myself wanting to respond in kind. Flirting doesn’t happen, not for me, not ever. In another life, maybe.
Besides, Alex knows about Javi. I’d seen the light dim in his eyes the moment I’d mentioned him. Some men might be able to deal with a woman who has a kid, but no one wants a woman with a special needs one. And no matter what, Javi always comes first in my world.
The lid snaps onto my cup and my mouth’s already watering as he hands it to me, but when I go to grab it he holds on. Our fingers touch.
“Listen, I know we only ever talk here. But, would you like to come with us?”
I suddenly have this strange feeling like he desperately wants me to say yes. It’s in the way his eyes narrow and his mouth thins. His gaze is intense too, like he’s silently pleading with me to agree.
And the word on the tip of my tongue is an emphatic no, with all the same excuses chambered behind it. Javi. Homework. My mother.
But the weight of seven years comes crashing down on me then. Seven years with no time off. Seven years of making dinner, folding laundry, giving baths, wiping butts (not always Javi’s), screaming, crying, begging God to help me…
I need this.
“Okay,” I hear myself say. And my voice sounds so soft, unsure. Like I’ve never heard it before. Shocked, I blink and so does he. I can’t quite believe I’ve said that.
“Okay?” he asks, clearly as startled as I am.
How many times has he asked me out in the past and I’ve always said no? Countless.
“Yeah. Okay.” I say it stronger this time, like I need to hear myself say it again just to believe it. “Where?”
His smile’s huge. “Sixth Street? Maybe a dance bar kind of a thing?”
Getting excited now, I nod. His grip on my cup goes lax and I take it, finally able to take that first swallow I’d been craving all morning, sighing with relief as it slides down my throat, wishing I could inject the stuff straight into my veins it’s so good.
“I have an idea, how about The Pink Lady?”
“The Burlesque Bar?” He smirks, eyes lighting with fevered excitement.
Running my finger around the rim of the cup I wiggle my brows. “I work there, actually.”
“Yeah?” Suddenly the gleam of interest I haven’t seen for months is back. He’s inspecting me up and down and I can feel a hot blush working its way up my throat. “I knew you were sexy.”
Blowing air through my lips, I wave his words off. “I don’t dance. Just bartend. But I like the atmosphere and the food’s killer.”
Another customer enters. Glancing over my shoulder I start to back up as a balding guy in tweed walks up with a harried expression.
“So?” I bite my bottom lip and roll onto my toes, waiting for his answer.
“I’ll never say no to that.”
“Awesome.” Waving, I turn and run out the door before I can change my mind. Mom hates where I work, but the tips are good, and money’s tight. She’d hate knowing I’m headed back there on my night off, but, if I have to go out anyway then I’d rather be someplace I feel safe. I like Alex, but I don’t know him all that well. In case anything gets crazy I know Henry (offensive linebacker for the Longhorns, and the Pink Lady’s bouncer) will have my back.
***
Ryan
“Burlesque?” I look at my cousin wondering if he always thinks with his nuts but no sooner I ask that question, I know the answer. Don’t all guys? I laugh. “Not exactly the kind of place I’m used to, but whatever. So long as they’ve got liquor I’m good.”
Stepping out of the shower I wrap the bath towel around my waist. Ryan has the door slightly cracked, not peeking inside but talking to me.
“And I, uh, hope you don’t mind but I invited this chick I know.”
Sighing, I run my hand across the mirror. “Whatever floats your rocks, man.”
“It’s not a date. Not like that.” Alex is quick to correct me.
Which is funny because I wasn’t really viewing this as anything. Ryan likes woman and they generally like them. He’s a good guy with a good head on his shoulders. We don’t care if the other one brings home a woman, not like we needed to ask permission. “So you telling me she’s available.” I smirk as I brush the knots from my wet hair.
“Look man,” Alex breaths hard, “I like this girl. Don’t screw with her head. You got that.”
Stopping, I pull the brush away and lean back to look at him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Ryan’s already dressed in jeans and a burnt orange longhorn’s shirt and hat, looking every inch the proud U.T. fan. His jaw is clenched as he shakes his head. “Just that I like her.”
I shrug. Still not understanding what the hell he’s getting at. “So ask her out.”
“It’s not like that,” he slashes his hand through the air, “she’s a friend, okay. But a good one. So just play nice and don’t act like such a dick around her. That’s all.” Muttering under his breath he turns away.
Rolling my eyes, I finish getting ready, trying hard not to let the demons knocking on my door crash through. Not yet. Tonight I just want to forget. Sink deep into an eighty proof fog and pretend that for once I’m normal. Just a normal man who doesn’t need to do this to feel alive.
My hands shake when I pat my shirt down.
Traffic headed toward sixth street is crazy. Like always. But somehow we finally make it there. The street is one big party. Anyone and everyone who lives in Austin knows the only place to party is sixth. The city closes down the entire section of street after nine. Already college kids are gathered outside the neon glare of the bar lights. Music thumps hot and hard through the door, sounding like liquid sex.
Girls smile at me as I shove my hands into my jeans. I’m not lookin
g to get laid tonight, so I ignore them.
It’s obvious when we draw close to the Pink Lady. The techno music is replaced by the smoky strains of jazz and bassy blues. A neon woman in pink silhouette decorates the window. The blinds are all drawn.
I’ve been here a couple times, but have never stayed long. This isn’t really my scene. If I want to watch a woman dance I prefer to see her take everything off. Still, when I flash my card, a shot of adrenaline speeds my pulse.
