Jo
I HAVEN'T GOTTEN a text from Drew in over a year and a half so the disappointment I feel when I read his text doesn't surprise me. Mum must have told him I was coming over with some basic items and since he's a selfish prick, he's decided to take it upon himself âmuch to his dismay I'm sureâ to text me.
I grit my teeth, annoyance washing over me as I read his text for the third time.
I'm not here for you. I'm here because of my job and I'll come to you when I'm done.
I look up and see Flynn coming out with two more boxes and he raises his brows at me when he sees me typing furiously. I hit send and blow out my cheeks.
"You good?" He asks and just then, my phone rings and the caller ID displays Drew's name flashing on the screen. I glance at Flynn and watch him drop the boxes into the trunk before sliding a finger on the answer button. I raise the phone to my ear and I don't speak. I can't remember the last time we spoke on the phone.
His voice comes in second later, nostalgic and familiar yet cold and monotonous. "Enough with the bullshit, Jo. Bring my stuff and then you can go back to whatever shenanigan brought you here."
That's it. There's no 'it's been a while' or 'I've missed you' or 'How's your health?' before and after that. I fold my arms across my chest and ignore Flynn's questioning gaze.
I clear my throat. "I'm busy. I need to finish up withâ"
He cuts me off. "I'm not going to sit here for more than five minutes waiting for you. I've got a class in ten. You don't show and I'll tell mum about this stupid attitude you're displaying."
My eyes glaze over. "Screw you." I say into the speaker and then I hang up. I press my fingers into the corners of my eyes and I turn to Flynn.
"Hey, uh, I need to get some stuff to my brother. I'll be back as soon as possible."
Flynn nudges his head to the car. "Give me a minute and get in the car. I'll drop you."
"Okay," I smile but it doesn't reach my eyes. "Thanks."
I get into the car and shut the door. He jogs back into the library and I use that little opportunity to clean every moisture that may be gathering in my eyes. He's back with one last box and then he shuts the trunk and slides into the driver's seat. He asks a student the directions to the food truck after I tell him and they heartily describe its location. Fortunately for us, it's not too far from the library so the shiny and fancy-ass food truck comes into our view pretty quickly. A couple of benches and tables are arranged in front of the truck and a few students linger around it. Just at the corner, my brother is seated on one of the benches in a red, threadbare college hoodie, indulging in slow sips from whatever is contained in his water bottle.
Flynn slows the car down and I turn to him. "I won't be long."
As I grab the door handle, his grip on my wrist stops me. "You are going to be fine," he says firmly. "Right?"
"Of course," I say, laughing awkwardly. "He's my brother after all."
I get out of the car and pack all his stuff from the backseat before taking a deep breath and walking out of the shade of Flynn's car. The sun is hot on my skin as I walk towards the bench but I ignore it once I get to him. He doesn't raise his head when I approach and he certainly doesn't when I'm a hair's breadth away from him.
"Here you go," I say, dropping all the bags on the table. He doesn't say a word, doesn't look at me and the only movement that comes from him are his eyes because they dart towards the table and observe everything on it. He has grown an untamed stubble and his curly hair looks unkempt. His eyes are dull and there's a bandaid on the bridge of his nose.
I narrow my eyes at him when he doesn't say anything and then I decide it's best to turn around and head back to the car. When I do, he speaks.
"You're not even going to say hi?"
I scoff loudly and turn back around to meet his figure but he's perusing through one of the bags. "I should be asking you that. It's not like you return any of my calls or texts."
Unfazed, he brings out two foiled enchiladas and lays them on the table. "You want one?"
"No thanks."
He gets to his feet and looks me in the eyes now. He looks so much like dad, it almost hurts to look at him. "Sit, I'll go get us some drinks." And then he turns around and walks towards the truck.
I stare at his back, wondering what he's up to and then I gingerly take a seat and shoot a quick text to Flynn, to inform him that I might be a delay but he texts me back, telling me to take my time.
I click my phone shut as soon as Drew approaches with one canned soda. He drops it in front of me and takes a seat. He didn't get one for himself.
"You got only one."
"Wow, I had no idea," he says, unwrapping the foil and biting into his roll. I roll my eyes at him.
"You said you we're going to get us some drinks."
"I've got mine right here," he says nodding to the water bottle. That's when I notice the tang of alcohol under his breath and the space between us becomes permeated with it when he unscrews the bottle and takes a huge gulp.
"Why are you drinking at this time of the afternoon?"
"Are you going to fucking eat or are you going to sit there and judge me?"
"It was just a question," I murmur and look away from him. I clench my jaw and look back at the wrapped roll in my hands. Conversations with Drew never used to be this cold and stiff. We're strangers to each other now. I don't even think I know him anymore.
"I need it to stay awake," he says, clearly hearing my murmur. "I fall sleep easily. In class and all."
Silence reigns between us for a few minutes before I speak up again. I don't look at him as I do. Instead I focus on the few students who walk in groups on the street.
"You look like shit."
"Thanks," he says dryly. "You look even worse."
I draw my lips into a thin line to stop myself from smiling. These little jabs used to be our thing when we were closer. And even though I know he doesn't mean what he just said, I meant mine and he knows that too.
I'm concerned about him and how he's doing and I'm worried about the unhealthy gulps of alcohol he has taken during the short time we've been sitting here together. He doesn't wince or cringe when it slides into his throat. It's like water to him and that scares me. I don't know why he doesn't reply our calls or texts and I don't know why he's so frivolous in spending.
"Stop staring at me like that," he warns.
"Like what?"
"Like I'm a fucking lost puppy or something. Spit it out."
I glance at his busted knuckles when he opens another bag and digs through the contents. "Did you get into a fight?"
"No. I just happened to wake up one morning and punch myself in the face. You should try it sometime."
I glare at him. "I can't get over how funny you are."
"Neither can I."
"Did you get into trouble with anyone?"
"I'm 20, not 85. I can fight my own battles myself. No need to pull off any knight in shining armor on me."
"I wasn't trying to do that."
"Okay?" He says turning to look at me, alcohol hitting me in the face when he breathes out. We look so similar and yet so different. "Will you stop with the fucking interrogation then?"
I can't take it anymore. "What is your problem? You're being an asshole right now."
"Runs in the blood," he says. "I took after your dad."
I cut a deadly glance his way. Your dad. I hate it when he says that. Dad's abandonment took a great toll on us and the second he left, Drew's hatred for him began. He despised him so much and when we started to drift apart, he denounced dad and began referring to him as my dad. Like we didn't have the same father.
My eyes burn at the corners. "Is that your excuse for forgetting we exist and only remembering we do when you're broke?"
He shrugs nonchalantly. He's like steel. My words don't go through him at all. They reach him and ricochet off his ears. "I'm sorry I'm trying to avoid a pestering sister who won't shut up about anything at all and stop being a baby about how she thinks the world is treating her."
My heart splinters right there. "Is that what you think I am? A pest?" My voice shakes. "Huh?"
He doesn't respond. He brings the bottle to his mouth and drinks.
"And mum? Do you think she's a pest too? She's worried sick about you all the time and you think she's also a pest?"
The muscles in his jaw work as he stares at the distance and he runs a hand down his face before turning to look at me. "Bitter truths."
I really don't know him anymore. "Fuck you, Andrew. I'm leaving."
He stops me. "Wait, you can't leave. There's no cash in any of these bags. She didn't send you to me at all?" The slightest hint of worry graces his face.
I'm so annoyed right now. I feel like swinging a punch in his face. "Are you serious right now?"
"Does it look like I'm fucking joking, Jo?" He asks. His tone worries me a little. "Do I look like I'm wearing a fucking clown costume?"
"Are you in trouble? What did you get involved in?" My mind is spiraling out of control.
"I'm notâ" His jaw hardens. "I just need the money."
"Then quit being a dependent slob and get a fucking job."
"Now is not the time, okay?" He says sternly. "I didn't get you a drink just so you'll preach to me. I know mum gave you some money to give me, so do that and you can be on your way."
I lie. "Apart from the clothes and food in those bags, she gave me nothing."
He stares at me for a beat and then he smiles wryly. He knows. He knows I'm lying. He always knows when I'm lying. He leans forward and dips his hand into the pocket of my jacket before bringing out the wad of cash in the envelope. I don't stop him. I just sit there motionless and my breathing quickens because I know I'm about to cry.
"You've never been a very good liar, sis," he grins and chucks the package into his bag. He gathers everything on the table and then he gets to his feet.
"Tell mum I said thanks and that I'm doing fine. There's no need for her to worry," he says and he brings out a packet of cigarettes from his Jean pocket and takes out a stick before putting it at the corner of his mouth. He places a lighter under it and a puff of smoke fizzles out. "Oh, and don't tell her I smoke. She's not going to be happy about that."
He places his hand on my head and roughly ruffles it. "Cover for me like you always do. Please? I need to head out. You're the best." He blows a kiss and turns to leave.
You're the best.
I wordlessly watch him leave and not even a minute later, he's bombarded with a group of boys who chant his name and laugh about something. I get to my feet and grab my unwrapped enchilada before heading to Flynn's car.
"Sorry I took so long," I say once I get in the car. He shifts his gaze from my brother's distant figure and turns to me. "You did say to take my time." I tease.
He rolls his eyes and smiles before starting the car. He doesn't ask me about what went down some minutes ago and he doesn't ask me if I'm okay or not. I'm extremely grateful for that because if he had asked me any of those two questions, I would have broken down right here and right now.
The silence between us is peaceful as he journeys further into town with his stereo blasting the best songs. I lean further into the seat and close my eyes, pretending to be asleep and then I hear his voice singing lightly in the background.
I don't open my eyes because I'm afraid he might stop so I remain calm and take slow breaths. Flynn sings far better than I do and I usually consider myself a good singer. His voice is low and light, probably so I won't wake up but it's hot and melodious enough to make me blush. And at the end, I forget Drew and fall asleep to it.
â
FOR THE REST of the day, I'm in a sour mood so I bury myself in piles and piles of used books and inventory. Eloise and Otis notice this and don't try to bother me especially after I told them I wouldn't be joining them for the pizza break today. Flynn canceled his session with me because he said he had somewhere to be after he dropped me off and I was more than grateful. I wasn't in the right state of mind to tutor him especially after the disaster of a meeting that occurred a few hours ago with my brother.
On my watch, it's almost seven o' clock, and I'm extremely exhausted. I plant my head on the table and close my eyes. The break must be over by now since I can hear the printer struggling to function from the other room. A yawn racks through my body and I raise my arms and stretch them above my head. My fingers are cramped from typing so much and my stomach rumbles from hunger.
I internally curse at myself for refusing to join them at six today as I head into the small bathroom and check my blood sugar. I need to get some food into my system. I splash some water on my face and place my meter into my purse before disposing the used lancet and the strip. I dispose the trash every night so I don't worry about where they are now.
I walk out of the bathroom and I'm a bit startled when I see Flynn sitting on my chair with his feet propped up on my table. He gives me a two finger salute but I'm distracted when a familiar savory aroma wafts from the table and goes straight into my nose.
I slowly walk to the table like a predator to its prey. "When did you get back? And why are your feet on my desk?"
"One, some minutes ago. Two, they just happened to do that on their own."
The source of the aromaâa brown paper bagâsits right on the table and I advance towards it, my stomach rumbling quietly. I place a hand on it and take a seat in front of the table.
"The guys said you didn't join them today. Why?"
"I wasn't hungry." I lie.
Flynn raises a brow and pushes the bag to me. "Your stomach says otherwise."
Just then, her grumbling heightens and my face slightly heats up. "Is this mine?"
"Yes."
"You got it for me?"
"Yes."
I stare at him for some seconds before opening the bag. "How kind of you."
He drops his feet from the table and inches forward. "That's one of the many things people call me."
Anticipation thrums in my veins as I bring out the appealing onion dip and zero sugar coke and lay them on the table. "What else do they call you?"
He raises a finger and counts. "Charming, Breathtaking, Incredibly Smart, Handsome, e.t.c."
I chuckle as I unwrap the grouper sandwich. I take the top bread off and my mouth waters. "I don't think anyone calls you incredibly smart." I take a bite and close my eyes as I chew. I've eaten this somewhere before. Its deliciousness is oddly familiar.
My eyes snap open and I see Flynn staring at me with a little grin on his face. "Is this from Woody?"
"Ding ding ding."
"You went to his truck?"
"Yeah," he shrugs. "Took Carter and his team there after practice and then I told him to make something for you and that's what he did."
"Wow," I say as I chew. "Thanks." I'm thanking him for two things: Buying me food even though I'm sure there's something he wants in return and taking Carter and his team over. Woody must have been psyched.
"You shouldn't skip your meals," he says.
"Alright dad," I unscrew the cap of the coke and narrow my eyes at him. "You got me food. What's the catch?"
Flynn leans back on the seat and folds his arms. He's trying not to smile. "You don't think I'm nice enough to get you food without wanting something in return?"
"No."
He can't stop his smile anymore. "Well, that hurt."
I generously dip a chip into the onion sauce and raise it to my mouth. I sigh. Someone needs to give Woody an award for excellent cooking. "I live for your misery."
"That's the kind of thing a witch would say."
"Funny, cos you're looking at one right now."
He places his forearms on the table and I glance at the tattoo that snakes around his arm and disappears under the sleeve of his shirt. "That sucks, Pryce. I was going to ask you if you were going to be free tonight but I'm smart enough to know that you might be busy in your coven."
A chip gets stuck in my throat and I cough loudly to get it out. My eyes are red by the time I swallow. "What?"
He looks me dead in the eye. "Are you going to be free tonight?"
"Why?" I ask nonchalantly, although my knee starts bouncing. "You're already in love with me?"
He smirks. "Not yet. I got two tickets to see a movie with my sister but she can't make it today. So, to avoid the second ticket going to waste, why not come with me instead? Besides, if we're going to keep up with thisâ" He waves a finger between us. "I have to get to know you better."
'Not yet.' Don't overthink it, Jo.
I swirl a chip into the dip repeatedly. "So this is like a date? But a fake one?"
"Sure, call it whatever you want," he replies and props his elbows on the table, before resting his cheek on his palm.
"Do I have to come? You already know me."
"I guess," he shrugs and from the look on his face, I know he's about to say something I won't like. "But you know, you don't have to, if you're a chicken."
I abandon the chip in the sauce and glare at him. "I'm not a chicken."
He plucks the chip from the tub and takes it into his mouth. "Then come see a movie with me, Josephine."
I lean back on the chair and breathe because his face is too close to mine. "Fine."
"Good," he smiles. "At least I know one thing about you now."
"What?"
He leans forward and brushes his thumb from the corner of my mouth across my bottom lip. "You're a messy eater."
He wipes it off and smiles. "I'll see you tonight." And then he gets to his feet and leaves the room while I swallow and rub my hand over my mouth to get whatever is there off. I just agreed to go see a movie with a walking devil and I'm regretting it already.