Sebastian blows out a breath, his head hanging between his shoulders. He comes toward me and wraps me up in a hug. “I’m so damn sorry that happened, but really fucking glad Colson was there to punch that fucker in the face.”
I grip onto him, my hands cinching around his waist. “Me too.”
“Hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Colson interrupts, “but your friends suck ass.”
Sebastian pulls away with an expression that says how ashamed he is of that fact, and Colson walks up to us. He softly grips my chin, turning my eyes upward to meet his. If I tell him I’m okay when I’m not, he’ll see it. By now, we know each other too well to see anything but the truth in the other’s eyes.
But as much as Nelson had me panicking there for a minute, I really am okay.
Even more so when he says the same words I used on him when he showed up at my apartment. “Tell me what you need.”
“Get me out of here?”
Colson looks to his cousin, and it’s like they have this silent conversation before he says, “We can do that.”
TWENTY-TWO
COLSON
Colson:Make sure you’re home today, we need to talk.
Mom:I’ll make sure the streets are cleared for the almighty.
Colson:Real funny.
Mom:Gave me a chuckle.
Colson:I’m serious, Mom.
Mom:Maybe I’ll be here, maybe I won’t.
Colson:This is important.
Mom:So is my goddamn schedule you’re screwing over.
Colson:Prancing around the neighborhood and loitering in your old stomping grounds for shit you don’t need doesn’t count.
Memories from timespent at the Rodriguez household come back and I need it, if only for a few minutes as I sit at the dining room table, looking at the people that I’m lying to. Aunt Bess, Uncle Thad, and Sebastian don’t know that I have secrets, but that’s not necessary for the guilt to peck me raw. It’s there and has been since we walked into the foyer thirty minutes ago and I immediately felt at home.
It's crazy to think how much time I spent here when I was a kid. How Sebastian and I used to slide down the banister when we were ten. We thought it was cool until he broke his wrist, and I bruised my tailbone. How we’d have Nerf gun battles in their theater room in the basement with the lights off. We’d waste hours fucking around down there. Then we’d come up, sit in the dining room, and eat as if we were one big happy family.
Just like we are now.
“Pass the meatloaf,” Uncle Thad says to Sebastian, his voice a mix of his signature mellow tone and slight Cuban-Spanish accent. “This old man can’t get enough of it when your mother makes it.”
“Oh, stop,” Aunt Bess says, a slight blush coating her cheeks. After all these years, Uncle Thad still does it for her. It’s sweet to see, especially since they’re the only example of a healthy relationship I’ve had.
“It’s delicious,” I agree, shoving another forkful in my mouth. None of the guys cook at the apartment. When we want a meal close to this caliber, it usually comes in the form of take out.
“I’m just glad we’re all under the same roof for once. We need to do it more often. I love you boys so much. I want to see you more.” She reaches over to fold Sebastian’s hand in hers. He gives her hand a loving squeeze back.
“We love you, Mom,” Sebastian says. “Our schedules are hectic. You know how it goes, but we’ll try to make it home more.” When he makes this promise, I don’t doubt that he plansto keep it. Sebastian is too much of a good guy to leave his mom, of all people, hanging. His want to keep the people around him happy as much as possible is almost sickening, but I can’t fault him for it when he grew up seeing his mom act the same exact way.
“A stressful time, indeed,” Uncle Thad nods, then he looks at me. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?” He’s talking about what I’m going to do with my life.
College was never in the books for me. I never did horribly in school. I aced my tests more times than not, but I didn’t have the income to pay straight out or to give back to loans. I also didn’t want to take handouts from my family.
But hell, I’m twenty-one. I should know what I want to do with my life, shouldn’t I? All this shit with Mom clouds the future. Even if I wanted to figure out what direction I want to go, I wouldn’t know the first step in making it happen. Not when my energy has been tied up.
