Thirty-Two
THIRTY-TWO
It’s been two weeks since I saw Dagen last, and I feel like an addict whose high has faded and the itch is back. We talk daily –several times–but it’s not the same as seeing her face and tasting her skin. I need a fix and I need it soon.
“Yo Henny. You ready?” Malik barges through my front door, yelling into the vast space.
“Bedroom,” I shout back and continue to pack my bag.
His steps echo as he crosses the tile and they turn into a whisper when they reach the carpet of my bedroom.
“I appreciate the invitation, Henny, but you know my dick don’t play like that. I’m flattered. Truly.” He comes in and collapses on my bed, wrinkling the neatly made bed. “What are you doing? We’re just going for a ride. I don’t think you’ll need your toothbrush.”
“I’m going to see Dagen,” I tell him, while continuing to pile items into my bag.
“Woah. Hey. It’s Thursday night ride. You’re not missing it again. It’s time for you and Danté to squash this shit. I can’t take any more of you two ignoring each other and putting me in the middle.”
Danté and I haven’t spoken since the day we ended up in jail after fighting like two wild dogs. He has yet to apologize, and I have nothing to say I’m sorry for. I do feel bad for sticking Malik right in the thick of it.
“I’m sorry, Mal. I really am. I just don’t think I can face him without punching his front teeth out.” I decide to pack a pair of swim trunks in case we want to go down to the pool at the hotel for a dip in the hot tub.
“Man, you don’t have to talk to him. I’ll ride between you two and words, or fists, don’t need to be exchanged. Please, Henny. I just want to have a nice ride with my brothers and to pretend that everything is normal.”
His eyes plead with me to fold and I know it’s going to take me being the bigger person to at least be civil enough to ride. Malik is right that we don’t even have to talk. Once my helmet is on, it’s just me and my bike.
“Alright. Let me change.” He jumps off the bed and raises his arms in the air like a kid who just beat a tough level on a video game.
I huff and shake my head, then get my black riding pants and meet Mal out in the garage to suit up. With the push of a button, my bike comes alive and we peel out of my driveway to meet up with brother number three. If you can even call him that. Right now he’s more like a guy I don’t know. One I wouldn’t want to know.
The highway stretches out in front of us and the world passes us by as we speed down the open road. The sun set about twenty minutes ago and the lights have come alive as the sky turns navy blue.
When we drove to Danté’s house, I sat parked on the curb while Malik got him. I didn’t take off my helmet, I didn’t stop my bike. I just sat with my bike idling, waiting for the two of them to come flying out.
Danté didn’t even acknowledge me. At least I don’t think he did. I barely passed him a glance as they approached, then quickly focused back on the quiet street. D headed out in front and I fell into line right behind Mal and we were off.
The ride has been everything I’ve needed. Aside from Dagen who seems to calm the riot in my head, I’ve had nothing but worry on my mind. She’s barely talking to her parents –her dad not at all– and I can tell it’s really affecting her. I can hear the despair in her voice every time we talk.
Sure, she’s always happy to talk to me, but some of the joy is missing. A little bit of her light has been dimmed and I need to do something to fix that. I have an idea, I’m just hoping it doesn’t land me in the hospital with a bullet hole in my body.
The warm air sneaks into parts that are uncovered by my gear, and it only serves to heat my already hot flesh. The cars come and go and we take turns speeding up and slowing down as we run into traffic. I need a little more room to just breathe, and speed up past both of them, finding a long stretch of open road. I rev my engine, the loud wail drowning out the turmoil still lingering thick between D and I.
The speaker in my helmet plays one of Dagen’s Lana Del Rey songs and I don’t care if it seems like I’m a whipped bitch. It’s a piece of her that brings me solace. I know the feelings I have for her are more than lustful. I need her more and more with each passing day. And every day we spend apart is like a hot knife into my gut.
I can’t explain it, but there’s this feeling in my gut that has sat heavy for weeks.
Malik switches lanes to be in front of me and he points his hand towards the exit. Danté and I follow, quickly seeing what pulls him from our ride. The bright lights of our favorite burger stand, Griffin’s, beckons him in. I’d like to argue and tell him I’m going home, but my stomach is gnarly right now.
The parking lot is full of cars at this little stand that has only a couple of picnic tables and a small order window. Our bikes are lined up in a row and we all remove our helmets, hanging them from the handles. I keep a bit of distance between myself and the other two, looking around at the guests who are either eating, or waiting impatiently for their order.
Malik bounces on his toes, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips just thinkin’ about the food he has yet to order. I scan the menu despite knowing what I want, but it’s a decoy so that I don’t have to engage with Dante.
“Mal said you’re going to see Dagen in the morning? Are you planning on moving there?” Danté sneaks up behind me while I stay laser focused on the menu and catches me off-guard.
With my attention still diverted, I answer. “Yeah. I’m leaving tonight and stopping half way. I need to make it in early and stop somewhere before I see Dagen. And no,” I finally look at him. “I’m not moving there.”
I shove my hands in my pockets and work my hardest to hold my tongue.
“But you’ll probably move there, eventually.”
I commend myself for keeping my trap shut as long as I did and let it just fly.
“What’s it to you if I do or don’t? You’ve been very clear on your dislike for Dagen, and if being with her means having to move away from Cattywump Bay, then so be it.”
“I never said I don’t like Dagen,” he counters.
“You didn’t have to say it! You made it abundantly clear. Message received.” I spin on my heel and decide food isn’t worth the high blood pressure and possible second stint in jail if I stay here and argue with him.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he shouts, and I freeze in my steps. “I know you feel something big for her. You’re going to end up marrying her and leaving us behind. I fought too hard for this family, Henny, and I’m not about to lose it without a fight.”
The crowd around us falls to a hush, waiting for the next part of their impromptu soap opera.
I look over my shoulder and see a man who is more vulnerable than he was when he was just a punk kid who ended up in foster care when his dad killed his mom, and none of his family wanted to take him in.
“We’ll always be family, D. You’re my brother. Nothing can take the place of you and Mal.” I take a few steps closer until I’m toe to toe with him. “I won’t lie and say that Dagen doesn’t change things, but being with her doesn’t mean I can’t have you in my life.”
Danté’s face hardens, but not in anger. He steels himself from showing any emotion. The Dare brothers don’t do emotions other than anger. Danté most of all.
“We’ve been through too damn much. You, me and Malik. No one else has the bond we do, as fucked up as it is, and no one ever will.”
“Guys always say they won’t change when a woman comes into their life, but in the end, nothing ever stays the same. Soon it’ll just be me and Malik and you’ll be off, having a life and family of your own.”
“Danté…you’re my family. And wherever the future takes me –be it with Dagen or someone else– they’ll have to realize that you and Mal and me are a package deal. You want one, but you get all of us.” I clamp onto his shoulder with my hand and squeeze it.
His black eyes are turbulent and I feel a pang in my stomach and my heart. I never thought that he would have a reaction like this. Ever. He’s the brick wall that nothing can penetrate and the fact his wall is showing a crack is huge.
“Is that why you pulled that shit with Soria? And the fight?” When he doesn’t say a word, I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. “I’m not going anywhere. Physically, I don’t know where life will take me. But as far as I’m concerned, you’re blood. You’ll always be here. The three of us, we need each other to live.”
His chest expands with air as he inhales and his jaw clicks with tension. His head nods and he holds out his hand in the best apology he knows how. Normally that would be good enough for me. But Dagen has changed me and this moment calls for something bigger.
I grab his hand and step closer, giving him a pat on the back in a hug that only men do. It takes him by surprise, but he quickly goes a step further and wraps me in a hug. The kid that needed family to hug him and reassure him they’d be there for him has been waiting for so long for that moment. And now it’s here.
Another set of arms clamps onto us and a sappy voice speaks. “Aww. A family hug. I’ve waited so long for this moment.” Malik pretends to sniff and Danté smacks him in the gut. “Does this mean we can go back to normal? No more sticking me in the middle of your fights?”
We all drop our hold and take a couple of steps back.
“No more putting you in the middle. Promise,” I tell him.
“Cool,” he says with a huge smile. “So then can we eat? I need a triple greasy Griff before we go back home. School has been kicking my butt lately and those little petri dishes love sharing their germs. I can’t stand to eat anything at school for fear that I’ll ingest strep throat.”
“Or the cooties,” Danté adds.
“Hey. Cooties are a real thing. And Hendrix has tons of girl cooties.” He shakes his hands like he’s trying to rattle away clinging germs.
“So, uh, is it serious with her?” Danté turns his head to look at the passing cars.
“I mean…I think so. I’ve never felt anything like this before, so I think that means it is.”
Malik smiles, and there goes another arm around the neck. “Henny’s in love. D, it looks like we have a new sister.”
“Oh Jesus. That’s not what it means. It just means that I like her more than a temporary fling. That’s all,” I explain, not fully convinced myself.
“K-I-SS-ING. Henny and Dagen sittin’ in a tree.” Malik begins to sing and I punch him in the shoulder.
He winces and rubs it out. “C’mon. I thought you were hungry?”
“Yeah. Hen’s got a girl to go see . Let’s eat.” Danté walks past Malik, bumping into his other shoulder.
“Damn, y’all. What is this? Beat up on the nice guy day?” he asks.
“Yes,” we both say and pass each other a smirk.
Things are right with the world again. Now I just need my girl in my arms and life is perfect.