Episode 172
EPISODE 172
LOST brOTHER, LOST LOVE
Brett
I first noticed feelings beyond friendship for Jake when I was thirteen.
Puberty is a challenge for boys. It’s like being tossed into a whirlwind of emotions, hormones, and sudden growth spurts. You’re stumbling through the chaos, trying to regain your footing and understand the newfound turbulence inside you. Your voice drops, and your muscles transform. Hair sprouts on your face, your armpits, your crotch, and it thickens on your arms and legs. It’s a fucking typhoon of ferocious and unfamiliar sensations.
I expected the feelings for girls to come—the appreciation of their curves, their softness. And it came. Oh, it came.
I didn’t expect to start noticing Jake in a new way.
Though I’d known River the longest and he and I were the closest of the five of us, something about Jake made me want to protect him. He and Seb lived on the west side of town. Wonderland. Sometimes they were hungry. Sometimes they were cold .
Seb was a tough motherfucker. He basically raised himself as his mother was a drunk. He didn’t need any protection. Just a meal a couple times a week, and he got that at Riv’s.
But Jake? Jake had a gentleness about him. He was like a lost puppy that you wanted to cuddle and take in from the rain.
When puberty started, I noticed how Jake’s eyes would crinkle at the edges when he laughed at one of my jokes. How his light hair would fall into his eyes—he never wore a hat—and how he’d absentmindedly push it back with his hand. But most importantly, I began to notice an unfamiliar warmth that would spread inside me whenever I was around him.
I didn’t call it love at first.
I still figured it was friendship, my need to keep him from harm.
I didn’t realize it was more until a year or so later, when he invaded my thoughts all the time. When his image popped up in my head when I was making out with a girl.
But he was head over heels in love with Marnie by then.
I watched from the sidelines as Jake—my Jake, because that’s how I thought of him—fell deeper and deeper into his affection for Marnie. Every coy smile she sent his way only served to tighten the knots in my stomach. The way she brushed her fingers against his arm, or how her eyes twinkled when he spoke. It all swept waves of jealousy over me like a merciless tide.
Marnie was beautiful. She had long curly hair the color of autumn leaves and a smile that could light up even the dreariest of rooms. Her laughter was infectious, and she carried an aura of sweetness that made everyone want to be around her. I couldn’t blame Jake for being drawn to her. Hell, I was too. Half the school was.
And she chose Jake.
My Jake.
It stung like salt in a wound. Watching them together was a constant reminder of what I couldn’t have. But I remained silent, choosing instead to keep my feelings hidden.
Then...
Jake took his own life.
His own fucking life. He went to his grave without ever knowing how much I loved him.
I suppressed my feelings. I had to in order to survive.
I dated a lot. Fucked a lot. I still loved girls. Loved getting it on with them. Never had feelings for another man. Even talked to a therapist for a while. Through that work, I discovered that I wasn’t gay, just in love with one particular guy. It happens, apparently. Sexual orientation is a fluid thing.
Still, I never really fell in love again.
Not until Sienna.
“Earth to Brett.”
I jerk out of my thoughts. Misty sits across from me.
God, she looks so much like Jake. Beautiful, wide-eyed, thick blond hair.
“Sorry,” I say.
“You said you’d tell me about my brother. What’s he like? Do you still keep in touch with him? How well did you know him?”
I swallow. God, my throat hurts.
“Please,” she says. “I need to know about my roots. About my mother and brother.”
“His name was Jake,” I say. “Jake Patterson.”
“Right. My birth mother’s last name is Patterson. Lisa Patterson. So what—” She stops, wrinkling her forehead. “You said ‘ was .’”
I nod, swallowing again. My eyes glaze over, but I don’t let the tears form. “I did. I used the past tense because Jake is dead, Misty.”
She clamps her hand to her mouth.
“I’m sorry. He killed himself when we were fifteen.”
She reels back as if I’ve struck her. Her eyes fill with tears and she shakes her head. “No,” she whispers.
I sit silently, watching as she cries for the brother she never got to meet.
Her pain is raw and real. Tangible for the brother she never knew.
I know because I shed so many tears over Jake too.
After several moments, Misty gathers herself enough to speak again. “Tell me about him.”
I collect a deep breath, steeling myself for the onslaught of memories and emotion that will threaten to overtake me. “He was one of a kind,” I say. “A good soul. He wasn’t a sports hero or a straight-A student or anything, but he was true , if that makes sense. He didn’t need to shout to make himself heard. He had a sense of justice that was unequaled. He always tried to do what was right. That was really important to him.”
Misty says nothing.
“You look a lot like him,” I continue. “That’s how I knew you were telling the truth when River thought you weren’t.”
“Why? River knew him too. Why would he not see the resemblance?”
How do I answer that question?
Because River never looked at Jake the way I did. Never discovered all the subtle details of his appearance, like the way his nose would scrunch when he was concentrating, the creases in his forehead when he was worried. River saw Jake as a friend, a confidant, but he never studied him, never held onto every part of him as if those details were the most precious things in the world.
“River saw him differently,” I finally say. “We all did. Jake was unique. He had a knack for making you feel like the most important person in the room when he spoke to you.”
Misty sighs. “I guess I’ll never know him.”
“No, you won’t.” I shake my head. “And I’m sorry about that, Misty. You’ll never know how truly sorry I am.”