Page 18 of He Hate Me

“How do you know?”

“Cause you don’t have a single yellow item in your room. You hate yellow.”

Observant.

“So why ask me? You probably already know.”

He sighs. “Just tell me.”

“Purple. I know, it’s cheesy, but I like purple.”

“What shade?”

“Brandon!”

“Come on...”

“It’s a bluish purple, but with some shimmer. Like this.”

I pull out my phone and show him a picture of a piece of fabric I’ve been considering for my prom dress. A smile plays across his lips.

“Mine is forest green,” he says, and starts clearing the table. I put my hand over my glass to let him know I want to keep it.

“I didn’t ask,” I tell him.

“You don’t have to ask,” he says. “I don’t mind telling you.”

“Let me help you clean up,” I say, sliding off my stool.

“That’s not necessary.”

“So you can say I wasn’t raised right? Uh unh.”

I wash the dishes and he dries, making quick work of the task. It’s only a couple of plates, a cutting board, two pans, and miscellaneous kitchen tools. He goes into the family room when we’re done, and I follow him after I’ve wiped down the counters. Is it time, then, for whatever mysterious task he wants me to do?

“I’ve got a couple questions for you,” he says.

“Okay…”

“Do you know if there are any old pictures or mementos, stuff like that in the house?”

“Why?” That’s not a suspicious request at all. Is he planning to steal something, I wonder. I mean I don’t have any idea why he was in juvie. He kind of hinted it was for SA, which I find totally believable, but then again, he might have been trying to intimidate me. And I have to believe that my mom and Devin wouldn’t knowingly let a rapist move in with us.

“When my mom got fired it was really sudden. She had been feeling sick and she wasn’t really paying attention to whether she got everything.”

“Why doesn’t she ask Devin for them?”

“She didn’t exactly say she wants them back, but I know she does. Sometimes she’ll talk about some photo albums she lost or some of my baby stuff—like I had this engraved rattle. I thought it would be nice to find that stuff and surprise her for Christmas. I’ve kind of put her through a lot this year.”

I look at Brandon in surprise. This sounds so thoughtful. Almost too thoughtful.

“I’m supposed to believe you’re trying to get through a locked door so you can get a present for your mom?”

“I’m not trying to say I’m a nice guy, Deja, but she’s my mom. She’s all I have.”

“What happened to your dad?”

“He left when I was two. He got remarried and has a new family in Missouri. He just hung us out to dry, and then started over fresh like nothing happened. I’ve seen him once in the last ten years.”