Four
Jace
Eighteen years old
“You look so handsome,” my mom says, straightening Nate’s pink jacket. Glitter shines along the lapels, matching his eyeshadow.
“When’s Rick supposed to come?” I ask, plopping down on the couch with a water bottle clutched between my fingers.
He sighs, running a hand through his perfect, thick dark locks. “Any minute now hopefully.” Nate’s gaze drifts to me. “You sure I can’t talk you into being our third wheel tonight?”
I cringe. “I’m sure. Rick hates me anyway and would probably just call me a cock block like the last time I tagged along with y’all to the movies.”
“Language,” my mom warns.
Nate and I laugh as he lowers himself beside me on the couch. An engine roars outside and he perks up, looking out the window behind us. Hope diminishes in his eyes when his dad walks through the door, and Nate looks down at his phone. As he starts to look away, it buzzes in his hands, and the light in his eyes leaves as fast as it comes.
“What is it?” I ask, scooting closer.
His shoulders droop and his eyes water. “Rick’s not coming.”
“What do you mean he’s not coming?” I ask, my stomach sinking at the sense of loss in his eyes. My parents are in the kitchen, chatting about some office party at my stepdad’s work, not paying us any attention. Good. If they were, Nate would probably pretend everything was okay and shrug it all off.
“He said he has to help his dad with something.” He huffs out a breath, his frown breaking my heart. “I don’t understand. We’ve been planning this for months. We even picked out outfits together to make sure we matched.” His eyes are sunken in when he looks at me and I sigh, resting a hand on his leg.
“I guess going to prom wouldn’t be the worst thing I could do tonight. Got a tux I can borrow?”
His eyes light up and he throws his arms around me, embracing me in a suffocating hug. I’m already missing his warmth when he pulls away full of smiles. My heart skips a beat when he wraps his fingers around mine and drags me to his room. I don’t know why, but that’s been happening more and more lately—the weird flutters in my chest and stomach. They don’t typically come this easily, but lately all it takes is for him to look my way for me to feel like my feet are lifting off the ground. I wasn’t aware of what I’d do for that smile until he needed me, like now.
Fuck that asshole who stood him up. He’s an idiot and doesn’t deserve Nate’s time. Maybe I don’t either but I won’t say no when he offers to give it to me. He leads me to his closet, tossing an array of clothes on the bed. Minutes later, I settle on a pair of black slacks and a black button-down, the material around my arms a little snug. We’re basically the same size, except I’m bulky in some areas he isn’t. Hating how helpless and weak I’d been against my dad, I started doing push-ups and lifting weights before eventually joining the wrestling team.
I didn’t want to be the defenseless, scrawny kid who fit perfectly inside small places anymore, and maybe that’s also part of the reason I can’t seem to stay out of school fights. The spiteful words and name-calling toward me I could handle. It was when they aimed them all at Nate that caused anger to boil inside me. My blood felt hot in my veins whenever he was threatened in any way. He’s my brother, my best friend, the only reason for me to smile and laugh anymore.
I finish getting ready, unable to avoid Nate’s gelled fingers sweeping through my hair. He fixes my folded collar and undoes the top button, his fingers burning a hole through my skin everywhere they touch. I didn’t think much of how he made me feel until recently, but with us being older and him dating people it’s getting harder to ignore. I don’t like Rick or any guy who flirts or touches him too much.
“Ready?” He runs his fingers through my hair one more time, his face beaming the way I love.
“Yeah. Let’s go drink spiked punch and dance the night away to horrible music.”
Laughing, he shakes his head. “As if I’ll ever be able to convince you to come out onto the dance floor.”
It’s crazy to me that after all this time he doesn’t realize I’d move the fucking earth for him if he asked. Maybe because he’s never pushed me into doing anything, I just always volunteer. He doesn’t like me to feel pressured or to go out of my comfort zone in order to make someone else happy. It’s hard to even notice anymore when I naturally gravitate in his direction. I hated the idea of him going to prom with that asshole, and kept picturing myself squeezing beside him in the limo, holding his hand. It’s not that I didn’t want to do these things before, I just didn’t realize I did until he was doing them with me. Us alone. Not me as some third wheeler.
We’re unable to stop my mom gushing over us and being blinded by her camera’s flash a gazillion times before finally making it out the door. A white limo awaits us out front and the driver opens the back door so we can slide in one by one. Our parents wave at us from the porch, shouting at us to have a good time, more pictures being snapped until we’re no longer in their view.
Nate opens the rooftop window and briefly sticks his head out before being yelled at by the driver to sit back down in his seat. We giggle as he crashes back beside me, nearly landing in my lap. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” he quips.
When we finally arrive at the school, Nate snaps a picture of us in the limo before sliding out first. Following behind him, I take in all the girls in pretty dresses and guys wearing tuxes, some too big to fit their bodies properly, clearly rented.
Nate grabs my hand, dragging me inside between moving bodies and we hand a girl at a table our tickets—his and Rick’s tickets. As much as I hate Nate being stood up, I’m happy to be the one to share such a special night with him. This doesn’t mean as much to me as it does to him, though. None of it did. Not senior skip day, getting my yearbook signed, going to all the last school parties, or graduating. I know I should be grateful for the opportunity to enjoy all these things, but I still don’t feel like it’s my life I’m living half the time.
All of this is the normal routine of a teenager, but I can’t stop seeing myself ending up in a basement at the end of the night. I hate dark places, even when lit up with fairy lights, but as long as my eyes remain on Nate, I’m able to pretend every place we walk into is as bright as a hot summer’s day.
“You okay?” he asks, as we stand in line to have one of those scrapbook moments captured by some professional photographer the school hired.
“Yeah,” I reassure him, moving with the people in front of us. “You enjoying yourself so far?”
“I think so. Then again we only got here ten minutes ago and I haven’t had to talk to anyone I try to avoid at school yet.”
Snorting, I shove him forward when it’s our turn to get our picture taken. Picking up a few things from one of the tables nearby, he hands me large glasses and a funny hat. He’s wearing a pink boa and golden crown, smiling widely beside me and holding bunny ears behind my head. Not your typical couple photo but it’s us in a nutshell. With Nate, it’s easy to pretend life has always been this way.
We spend the next few hours laughing with friends, dancing the electric slide under strobe lights, and stuffing our faces with too many snacks, then right when I think our night is coming to an end, we’re invited to an after-prom party. The limo driver drops us off in front of the school quarterback’s house. So many cars already cram the streets.
Nate is chatting with different people on our way inside and then freezes as soon as he enters the living room. In front of a keg unfolds a scene neither of us was expecting. The night started out shaky but I thought we would both remain on steady ground at least until morning came.
I couldn’t have been more wrong. Rick’s kissing someone else. A girl has her arms around his neck, shoving her tongue into his willingly open mouth. He doesn’t see us at first. Nate is shell-shocked, his mouth agape and eyes wide. I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone more. Before I can drag Nate out of the house, Rick looks right at us, his eyes wild and face flushed. “Nate. I didn’t think you’d be here.”
“And I thought you were supposed to be helping your dad.”
“I was . . .”
“But then decided to come to a party afterward and suck face with some cheerleader instead of asking your boyfriend to meet up.”
Rick rubs a hand over his face, looking more pleased with himself than sorry. I swear if we stay here any longer, I won’t be able to resist punching the jerk’s lights out.
“I really don’t know what to say other than I’m tired of waiting around for you. Let’s be real. This wasn’t ever going to go past a few closed-mouth kisses in front of your locker, and a guy like me has needs, baby.”
“I’m not your baby,” Nate spits out. “And stay the hell away from me.”
Nate rushes out the front door, and when Rick tries to follow him, I slam my hand hard against his chest. “Don’t even fucking think about it.”
“What are you, like his savior or something? How is any guy supposed to get past first base with you always hovering? Maybe it’s time you learn to be obsessed with someone else besides your own brother.”
My blood runs cold, and tired of seeing the grin on his face, I quickly lift my hand and my fist meets with his nose. My ears are met with a cracking sound and I reach back and slam into him again, hitting his cheek this time, knocking his ass to the ground.
Spitting out blood, Rick grabs his nose. “What the fuck, freak.”
“Hey, no fucking fights in the house. Take that shit outside.” Garrett’s gaze turns to ice when his eyes finally meet mine. “Who the fuck invited you anyway? Guys like you don’t belong in places like this.”
“Guys like him don’t belong anywhere but a fucking jail cell,” someone shouts from the large, gathering crowd.
“Don’t worry. I don’t want to be here anyway.” Rushing away, I don’t look back until my face is hit by a slight breeze and the smell of wet grass. They’re all staring at me, their faces threatening like some fucking angry mob.
“What are you waiting for? Get the fuck off my lawn, freak show.”
My whole body vibrates with anger, and I don’t calm down until I spot Nate sitting on a bench alone across the way at some park. I choose him. I’ll always choose him. Flipping Garrett off, I go in the one direction my heart never has trouble following. As I’m sitting down, I say the first thing on my mind. “I’m sorry about Rick.”
Lowering his head, he digs his fingers into his knees. “Yeah. It was only a matter of time before something like that happened with a guy like him.”
“Doesn’t make it any better.”
He shrugs, sighing. “I guess I keep trying to see the good in everyone but it doesn’t always turn out the way it has with you.”
He says that because he doesn’t know the inner thoughts I struggle with daily. He can’t see my dreams, and I don’t act on many of the instinctual urges that were built into me a long time ago.
“ You can’t talk to people on the outside. They’re dangerous. They’ll undo all the good we’ve done. They’ll get in the way of our calling to help others.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a breath. It wasn’t good, what we did. It was evil. I wish I could stop questioning myself on whether I was wrong to run away. Whether I was wrong to reveal my dad for the monster he was. It had to be done and I know it did. This is the life I need to connect with, but how can I when half of me can’t leave that fucking basement or be rid of the mindset that Nate should be tied up when I talk to him, for both of our safety.
“I wish I could see only what you see when you look at me.”
“I wish you could too.” He lifts my hand and places a lightning bug on my palm. Glowing brightly, the small creature flaps its wings and I’m mesmerized by its ability to be brave enough to stay where it is.
“I think it can see it too. It stays because it feels safe. The same reason I do.” Linking his arm in mine, he rests his head on my shoulder and watches the lightning bug circle us a few times before flying away. The sky is dark but all I can focus on is the bug’s light, and when it’s fully gone Nate takes its place, and for a little while I forget about the dark basement and my life before. I forget about my worries of becoming the man my father would be proud of—the one I turn into in my nightmares.