Chapter 9
Nyx
“So, is that the last of it?” Lani asked.
“Yup,” Kekoa replied as they straightened up from where they’d been peering under the motel bed once we’d been cleared to go collect anything they could salvage.
In their hands they held half a book. The other half was already in the box of things we’d gathered.
Some of the clothes might be salvageable; they’d just been piled in the shower stall with toothpaste smeared all over them and the water turned on.
But the outfit they’d been wearing the night at the bar had been hacked and ripped to bits.
“You guys get in the Jeep; I’ll toss the bag in the dumpster, and then we can head up to the office so Kekoa can officially check out,” I said.
My mates just looked tired as they trudged out of the room.
Pausing in the doorway, I looked around just to assure myself that we hadn’t forgotten anything.
The way the room had looked when we stepped inside would be burned on my brain for a while.
It was like a beast had rampaged through it, not a person.
I was just glad my mate hadn’t been there when Nuno had come calling.
At least he was behind bars now, and Mom had been able to confirm her suspicions about how Nuno had learned where Kekoa was staying and which room was theirs.
It had been in their employee records at the company office when Nuno had trashed it.
The page had still been in his possession when he’d attempted to board his boat only to find himself in cuffs.
Within moments we were all in the Jeep and headed home, wind and the sound of road construction making conversation impossible.
Maybe that was a good thing. We were all irritable, exhausted, and under caffeinated despite the cups we’d guzzled at the police station.
The shitty part was that it was so late in the day that when we finally did crash, it would be tomorrow before we finally woke up again, and there were still so many things that had been left unsaid.
At the house, Kekoa headed straight for the laundry room with their bag of clothes, then to the kitchen for their container of lumpia, removing the lid, before studying the Ninja with a perplexed look on their face.
“Here, let’s spread them out in the middle of the tray and put the ribs and snapper on the other racks,” Lani said.
“Add the wontons too; I think they’re the crab-stuffed ones,” I said, passing them over too. “And we can warm up some red rice to go with it. Let me grab the deviled eggs too, then we can set the table.”
“Why don’t you let me get the eggs and rice, and you set the table since I still don’t know where anything is yet, and I’m still not up for the official tour,” Kekoa replied as he headed for the fridge, so I switched directions and started pulling plates and glasses out.
Napkins, silverware, I waited until the food was almost ready before I filled our glasses with ice and punch that I hoped wasn’t spiked because my liver still hadn’t recovered, or forgiven me, for last night.
Had we won a jug? I’d tried for the pineapple punch and again for the Fiji apple, and both times I’d lost by a hair’s breadth.
It wasn’t green though, so my liver should be safe, though the uncles had offered up more booze than just the gallon jugs of spiked echo punch during tipsy lawn darts.
Several other flavors had been introduced, and of course, they’d brought double.
One for sampling purposes and one as a prize.
Lani hadn’t won one, had he? No, he’d won a case of that new ramen flavor everyone was raving about, a new shaving kit with several aftershave samples, and a gift certificate for seventy-five dollars at the Cineplex.
I already knew which upcoming movie he’d choose. I just wondered if Kekoa would like it.
“I’ve never been anyone’s last straw,” Kekoa admitted. “Well, outside of my sixth-grade math teacher, but in all fairness, she was planning to retire at the end of the year anyway.”
“And instead she retired when?” Lani asked as he plated our food.
“A week before Christmas break,” they admitted before biting into a piece of lumpia with a happy sigh.
“What happened?” I asked, reaching for a deviled egg first.
I could eat a dozen of them in a sitting and had, much to my stomach’s everlasting regret. I’d only taken four from the tray to start with, since Aunty Ina had sent us home with a lot, along with a whole side container of the shrimp kelaguen Kekoa had fallen in love with.
“I don’t know, I think she had a nervous breakdown when I asked her to explain a fraction problem to me.
She broke it down on the whiteboard a couple of different ways, but each time I tried to solve the problems she created for me, I mixed up a step in the process and ended up with a completely different answer than I was supposed to. I just couldn’t grasp it.”
“Exactly how many times did you go through them before the, um, breakdown?” I asked.
“Dozens. I stayed after school more days than I care to remember, and they were always bright, sunny ones too when I really wanted to be outside and in the water. It made focusing extra difficult, but I swear I was paying attention each time she walked me through the steps. I was so close to solving the problem that pushed her over the edge that I could almost taste freedom and saltwater on my face, then I messed up the columns, subtracted the wrong things, and fucked the whole thing up again. She just took the dry erase marker from my hand, put the cap back on it, shook her head, and said no more. I thought she meant for the afternoon, and I bolted before she changed her mind. I didn’t expect her to be gone the next day or to never come back. ”
“Damn, that’s, um, unexpected,” I replied. “I thought you were going to tell us you pranked her or something.”
“No, I really liked her,” Kekoa replied. “And I tried to like math, but it wasn’t until another math teacher broke those fractions down in a completely different way that I truly started to understand them.”
“Just because you’re someone’s last straw doesn’t mean you’re to blame for what went wrong,” Lani pointed out.
“It sounds to me like you and your teacher both tried and just couldn’t find the right path so you could grasp it.
I’d say that incident doesn’t count, not when you stand it up next to this mess. ”
“I’m sorry you got dragged into it.”
“Well, technically we just got dragged along for the ride,” I pointed out.
“Look on the bright side,” Lani said. “As far as awkward third dates go, at least one didn’t end with anyone picking their nose.”
We all laughed at that and dug in with renewed enthusiasm.
“Three new changes, yippee,” Lani cheered, his voice thick with sarcasm as he peered at his phone.
“Are they big ones?” Kekoa asked.
“The menu ones seem to have sent the caterer into a bit of a frenzy trying to find some of the ingredients for the new dishes that were requested, but the pay bump seems to have motivated him not to get upset about them. My staff handled the issue perfectly, but that doesn’t mean I’m pleased about more last-minute changes. ”
“Maybe it’s time to put something in your contract that gives a cutoff date, after which changes will absolutely not be made unless they are willing to pay a fee to make them?” Kekoa asked.
“Unfortunately, I already have the clause, but those two rampaging grandfathers keep paying the fees anyway. The only thing that is going to stop them is the kickoff of the event, and even then, I can just see one of them offering bonus money to my staff to pull off some last-minute ‘I’m the best grandpa’ style hail Mary and throwing the whole timetable off.
Things were a lot easier when I was just doing party planning for family, friends, and people one of the aunties hooked me up with.
Some of the clients I’ve worked for these past few years have been a bit much. ”
“Sounds that way,” Kekoa replied. “Maybe, um, put a limit on changes, since you’ve already got a clause. Maybe that will keep people from waving their wallets around.”
“At this point, it couldn’t hurt,” Lani said.
“So, elephant in the room. How much did I damage my reputation with your mom?” Kekoa asked me, head propped on their hand as they nibbled their food.
“She… feels like you’re getting caught up in this incident is part of a larger pattern of you being reckless and putting yourself in difficult situations,” I explained.
“Like the thing with your hair. Why erase a blatant warning sign when it could help keep you out of sticky situations? I know you said its original colors never served as a deterrent, but did you seriously mean not even a little bit of a deterrent?”
“Maybe a little from time to time, but my mouth more than made up for any deterrent my hair may have offered.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Do you go out of your way to provoke people?” Lani asked. “Even exhausted, you sound kind of proud of it.”
“Because I am,” Kekoa admitted.
“I just hate letting assholes get away with their bullshit,” Kekoa said.
“And I got sick of being bullied. As soon as I found my voice, I stopped worrying about the consequences of speaking up. It's not like I go out of my way to call people out on their bullshit. Well, maybe a few times I have, but it was only because they were tormenting someone who was too afraid to stand up for themselves. Most times I wind up getting into it with someone, it’s because they brought their rolling shit show my way, not the other way around.”
“So, you felt obligated to stick around and deal with it instead of walking away.”
“Because I was lucky. I had plenty of friends and siblings who looked out for me when I wasn’t ready to stand up for myself, and I wanted to pay it forward,” Kekoa explained.