I chuckle as I dart my gaze to him. “Let me do some of the grocery shopping sometime and you might not have to even buy me a TV.”
Dex runs his hand over his buzzed head, a tortured expression in his golden-brown eyes. At first, I hated that he let his boss, Bert, cut his hair like a damn criminal, but it’s growing on me. I like running my palm over the soft prickles.
“You guys can always go with me, but you have school and it’s on my way home. It’s no big deal for me to go.” Dex pleads with me to understand, just pinning me with his so-fucking-sad stare.
This is why I can’t stay mad at him.
Because even if he ran off my only friend, he still does so much for us. Everything. He sacrificed his own education so that he could provide for us. I’m just being bitchy about Seth. If I’m being truthful, Seth was kind of a prick when I wouldn’t give him a blowjob. Friends don’t let your brother fuck them because they didn’t get what they wanted from you. He took advantage of Dex. When Dex is exhausted and buzzing on a few beers, it’s like he lets go of all his control and is just a guy, not someone responsible for his two brothers.
“I would have bought black cherry chip ice cream if I went,” I say to him, giving him a stern expression. “Why didn’t you buy your favorite when you were buying ours?”
Because he doesn’t feel like he deserves it.
He never does anything for himself.
Always for us.
“Didn’t feel like wasting money on it,” he admits, his cheeks turning pink. “But I got a raise, Andy. Things won’t feel so tight around here pretty soon.”
I turn off the stove and grin at him. My smiles always coax smiles from him. It’s the gift that gives back. “Then I’m definitely going food shopping with you next time. Maybe we can start eating more than just hotdogs and peanut butter sandwiches.”
“Lavinia offered you some mustard greens,” Dex says, a devilish smirk on his face.
I pretend to gag and then set to draining the noodles. Since Dex didn’t buy garlic bread, I buttered up some regular bread and sprinkled a garlic concoction on top before toasting in the oven. I’m pretty damn proud of myself because it looks like it turned out okay.
“I can’t believe you made garlic bread,” Dex mutters, astonished. “This is awesome.”
He pats his bare, ripped stomach and I try not to ogle him in envy. Since he worked his ass off today in the shop, he showered while I got dinner ready, and now wears nothing but a pair of worn-out shorts that hang low on his hips. They’ve got a little weight room in the back of the auto repair shop he works at and he’s always lifting during his breaks or before or after work. Where I’m naturally toned with muscle, Dex is filling out and has definition I could never dream of. Poor Nate is the lean one of the three of us, mostly because when he’s depressed, he can’t be bothered to eat for shit.
“Do you have to walk around shirtless?” I complain, tearing my gaze from his abs. “Some of us don’t need to see all that.”
Nate’s attention lands on Dex’s stomach and he frowns. As soon as Dex realizes it might make Nate uncomfortable, his skin turns bright red. He starts to rush off to put on a shirt, but Nate grabs his wrist, stopping him.
“He can relax without a shirt on,” Nate says, pinning me with a firm stare. “He’s not Dad.”
I shudder and Dex’s jaw ticks with fury. It wasn’t what I’d meant when I said it, but now I feel like a dick. Dad liked to dish out his punishments in three variations of abuse: physical, emotional, and sexual. While he emotionally mindfucked me calling me every hateful word and insult he could think up, he beat the shit out of Dex. As for Nate…he has his reasons to be depressed. No kid should ever have to go through what he did with his own father.
“Let’s eat,” Nate urges. “Everyone’s so tense tonight. It’s making me nervous.”
Dex swallows and gives Nate a quick nod. He turns, revealing his sculpted shoulders to us. I wonder if they’re as firm as they look.
Sick piece of shit.
I can practically hear the disgust in Dad’s voice when I’d casually mentioned how I thought our neighbor was good-looking. Our male neighbor. He called me everything from prissy faggot to filthy dick sucker and everything in between. Which was pretty rich coming from him considering what he did with his dick and with whom.
Tearing my gaze from my brother’s back, I focus on bringing the food to the table. We all settle eventually once our plates are filled. This is something we used to do when Mom was around and Dad was on the road. Those days when it was just the four of us were my best memories. But being a truck driver didn’t mean Dad stayed away forever. Eventually he’d come home and our little slice of happiness would be devoured. She died and then he was forced to take a job in town so he could be home for us. Worst five years of our lives.
Aside from my meltdown, Dex seems lighter tonight. Like maybe life isn’t so hard on him. It makes me incredibly happy. Every day while I sit in class and study boring shit, guilt eats me alive that he’s not there with us.
Someone raps on the door. Dex flies out of his chair, his homemade garlic bread still in hand as he goes to answer.
“Here with your delivery, Mr. Love,” the man says. “Just sign here for it.”
Delivery?
Nate and I exchanged a confused look. Then, Dex saunters back over to us, munching on his bread. His whole face is lit up with happiness.
“What did you buy?” I demand, trying to look past him and out the door.
