Chapter Two Kenny
CHAPTER TWO
KENNY
H an! Are you okay?” I hopped off the couch and rushed over to Han to slap his back as he choked on his water.
“Fine…” he managed between coughs. “Maybe I do need to sit down,” he finally said, and we both sat on the sofa. Luna reluctantly slunk to the floor and lay at my feet to make space. Han scratched his chin without saying anything. Just sitting there, disappointed in my life choices, probably. The longer the silence stretched, the farther I shrank into the cushions.
“Say something?” I urged after what must have been a full minute of silence.
“I’m just… processing.” Han stopped scratching and rested his elbows on his knees. “Where did that even come from?”
I knew what he was really saying. That I didn’t seem happy. But I was happy. Jackie made me happy. Most of the time, at least.
Besides, what was I supposed to say? That Jackie threatened to break up with me if I didn’t propose? I knew Han didn’t approve of Jackie, and Jackie really didn’t approve of Han. But “no bullshit” was the only fully spoken rule of my relationship with Han. So, honesty it was.
“It was an ultimatum.” Knowing Han, my admitting that part probably guaranteed he’d try to talk me out of it, but I couldn’t lie to Han even if I wanted to. “It was either get married or… break up.” Just saying the words “break up” made my throat tighten. Besides the few “breaks” Jackie and I had taken, I hadn’t been single since early high school. The idea terrified me.
Jackie knew me better than I knew myself. When I wasn’t sure about something, she’d make the choice for me. When I didn’t know what to think or how to feel, she was right there to enlighten me. Who even was I without Jackie? Did I even have a personality of my own? Thoughts, feelings, desires of my own? I wasn’t so sure, and I didn’t want to find out.
I might have been as scared of being single as Han was of not being single. All I knew was that I didn’t want to be alone, and marrying Jackie ensured that would never happen.
“And you chose… to get married?” Han rubbed his temples.
I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around Luna, who went limp as I picked her sixty pounds up to hold in my lap. A living weighted blanket. I wanted support , and Luna had plenty to offer. The weight in my lap felt like the hug I desperately needed.
“Yes.” I swallowed, preparing for a lecture.
“Why?”
“She was going to break up with me…” The words came out before I had a chance to think about them.
“But do you want to marry her? What do you want?”
Leave it to Han to ask these kinds of questions. He always made sure I factored myself into the equation. I was usually the giver, especially with Jackie. If we disagreed on what to eat, it was her choice we went with. If she was sick, I took care of her. If she was sad, I comforted her. I would do whatever it took to make people happy, my own feelings be damned.
With Han, though, it was a different story. I still wanted to make him happy, but I never had to put myself second to do it.
I thought for a moment before answering. Of course I wanted to get married. I had always wanted the “American dream”—a wedding, kids, a house with a white picket fence. Jackie was offering me just that.
“Yes,” I finally said. A shaky yes, but a yes all the same. But I felt uneasy more than anything. If I wanted to stay friends with Han, I was basically committing my best friend and girlfriend—fiancée—to a lifetime of hating each other. My chest sank. Maybe they could work it out somehow? “Do you think you and Jackie will ever get along?”
“She’s low-key—no, high -key—abusive. You know that, right?”
“What? She literally works at a shelter for abused women. She’s not abusive.” Sure, she was a bit abrasive, maybe a little aggressive, but abusive? No, I could take care of myself.
“Bet she doesn’t think women can perpetuate abuse, huh?” Han said, and I hated that he was probably right. But that didn’t mean Jackie was abusive.
“She just likes to be in control. Because of her parents—”
“Nope. Nuh-uh. Maybe her parents being controlling or getting divorced was a good excuse in high school, but she’s grown now.”
“Trauma isn’t linear, though. Just because she’s an adult doesn’t mean she’s healed,” I said, feeling oddly defensive. Han didn’t know Jackie like I did. She just needed some more time and space to heal.
Before her parents’ divorce, we were fine. We were perfect. We could get back to that.
“Okay, well, is she trying to heal, or does she expect you to do that part for her?” Han asked.
“No! I mean, yes, of course she’s trying to heal. She even said she’s open to getting a therapist.” I gave Luna an extra squeeze, like she was the one who needed to be hugged.
“Didn’t she say that years ago? Has she actually looked for one? Doesn’t she have, like, a million resources for that kind of thing with her job?” I knew Han wasn’t trying to be mean. He was just blunt. Didn’t mean it didn’t bother me.
“Well, if Jackie doesn’t want therapy, I can’t force her,” I said. Sure, maybe she wasn’t actually looking, but it was still her decision.
“My point is, she’s using her parents as a shield for treating you like shit. She’s abusive, I’m telling you. You know she doesn’t have to outright hit you to be abusive?”
I kept my response to myself. Han didn’t have to know that Jackie maybe, occasionally, sometimes did hit me. He wouldn’t get it. I was a freaking black belt in Taekwondo, but I didn’t need to defend myself against my own girlfriend. Why would I? Han didn’t have to get why Jackie was the way she was. I understood her.
Han sighed when I didn’t respond. “I know I can’t convince you to leave her, but are you really sure about this?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yes,” I said, running my hands through Luna’s fur so Han couldn’t see them shaking. I didn’t want to lose Jackie, but I couldn’t lose Han, either. Did getting married mean I’d have to choose?
“Okay, then.” He sighed. “I’ll play nice, but I won’t like it.” Han wasn’t one to give a sappy “I support you” speech, but sometimes I wished he would. I needed some kind of confirmation that marrying Jackie wouldn’t cost me my best friend.
“Thanks for the support,” I said sarcastically, but Han didn’t catch the tone. He rarely did.
“Sure thing. Love you, bro,” he said. I wasn’t complaining about the affection, but it always bothered me a tiny bit that Han was incapable of saying anything nice without putting “bro” at the end. I wasn’t really sure why. Maybe because it took some of the vulnerability and realness out of the moment. Then again, Han wasn’t exactly the vulnerable type. He gave me a firm shoulder squeeze before heading off to bed. I sat there alone, the warmth from Han’s hand lingering on my shoulder in a way no one else’s touch did.
I woke up the next morning to a phone call from a random number, and I groggily answered, expecting a spam call. Han would make fun of me for always answering random numbers, but you never know when it could be important, right?
And this time it was.
“Hi, I’m looking for Brandon Hawes?” the voice on the other line said, and I immediately knew something was up. Brandon Hawes was Han’s boss. Why would Han give someone my number and say it was his?
“May I ask who’s calling?” I asked before giving any information.
“Kaitlin Ford, I’m calling from the ABQ Biopark Aquarium. Alejandro Torres put you down as a job reference.”
I fist pumped the air. Given Han’s love of jellyfish, the aquarium sounded like the perfect fit, and it was about time he got a job he actually enjoyed. Han must not have wanted his boss to know he was looking, so he gave them my number. I jumped into gear, talking up Han’s work ethic, loyalty, and how he was always, always on time. All true.
“He sounds like a great candidate!” Kaitlin said. “If you valued him so much, may I ask what made you let him go?”
The gears in my mind clogged up. Han got fired?
Why wouldn’t he have told me? How long ago had that happened? Was he okay? Were we okay on rent?
“Mr. Hawes?” The voice sounded fuzzy through the ringing in my ears.
“My apologies.” I cleared my throat, then stumbled over an answer. “Ah, well, you know how it is. Who knew corporate greed had its downfalls?”
She gave a dry laugh. “Thank you for your time, Mr.… Hawes .”
Click.
Shit.
After pacing my room a few times, I swung my door open and made a beeline for the living room, where I could hear Han’s music playing in the background. He sat on the couch, typing away on his laptop.
“You lost your job?” I asked as unantagonistically as I could manage.
“Got fired.” Han didn’t even bother looking up from his screen.
I pushed the bubbling frustration down about how Han hadn’t bothered telling me. This wasn’t about me. This was about Han. If he didn’t tell me, there must have been a reason. I needed to be a better friend so he could trust me more. Jackie’s voice rang in my ear, saying I wasn’t good enough. Not for her and not for Han. I needed to be better.
A knock at the door pulled me out of my thoughts, and Han gave me a questioning look. Who’s here? I felt embarrassed to admit it was Jackie. After Han called her abusive last night, I hardly thought he’d be happy to see her. Still, he’d promised to make nice.
“It’s Jackie,” I said, cautiously gauging his reaction. He nodded, not a hint of emotion on his face as I went to let Jackie in. The moment the door opened, she threw herself into my arms, and I relaxed into hers.
“Fiancé!” she squealed as she nuzzled her face into the crook of my neck. As I squeezed back, I could almost feel Han’s eyes rolling, but I didn’t care. I was going to marry this woman.
When Jackie finally pulled away, I prepared myself for her to ask if we could go to my room so we could be alone, but instead, she waved.
“Hi, Han,” she said as she went over and sat next to him .
“Hey, Jackie,” Han said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. I blinked to make sure I was seeing correctly. Then a huge grin took over my face. Jackie and Han were both willing to try for me. I sank onto the couch between them and wrapped my arms around their shoulders.
“I love you guys.”
“Love you, too,” Jackie said, planting a kiss on my shoulder.
“You too, bro,” Han said at the same time. My shoulders stiffened at the tension coming from my left, where Jackie shifted in her seat. Shit. I shouldn’t have said that. But Jackie didn’t say anything, which was a good sign. I slipped my hand in hers and squeezed, and then she relaxed again.
“So, um, how are you doing, Han?” Jackie asked.
“I’m good,” Han said.
“That’s good…”
“Yeah…”
Jackie shifted uncomfortably. “Um, the weather’s kind of nice, right?”
“I guess.”
Jackie seemed to give up on the conversation then, pulling out her phone and scrolling through some Twitter article. I glanced down in curiosity. The headline was about ICE raids.
“So, ICE is pretty terrible, right?”
Han’s shoulder next to me stiffened. Jackie didn’t know about his status, but I didn’t want him to think she did. He didn’t answer, so Jackie kept going.
“You guys must hate them, right?” She leaned forward to make eye contact with Han.
“Why, because we’re Mexican?” Han fired back.
“We don’t have to talk about this,” I finally butted in, but Jackie was already answering.
“Yeah, I’m just curious about your guys’s thoughts, as Mexicans.” Her eyes were all big and innocent. Jackie had never asked me that before, so I was a little thrown. Particularly now that she was making nice with Han. I had a feeling it had to do with me being practically white-passing (depending on who you asked) and Han being more racialized. Because I was fourth generation and extremely assimilated, maybe Jackie considered me too removed from the issue to be asking me about ICE unless Han was there.
“Babe…” I wished this conversation could end that second, but Han interrupted.
“Actually, I’m tired. Gonna go take a nap.” And he went to his room, leaving me alone with Jackie.
“I was just trying to connect with him about something,” Jackie said with those big innocent eyes. I sank farther into the couch. Whatever lightness I’d felt from them trying to make nice was gone. “I wish Han would just be honest about his feelings for once.”
“He is.” I defended Han on a reflex, but I had to admit Jackie had a point. Han wasn’t the type to go telling everyone when something upset him.
“No, he’s not. He’s clearly mad, but instead of talking he just left.”
“He’s not mad,” I reassured her. I hadn’t been lying when I said Han was honest—just not the way Jackie would expect. When Han was upset, he’d give the strays an extra treat, or work out, or go for a walk, or watch a tear-jerker kid movie for an excuse to cry. He always had a tell. Which meant Han wasn’t upset. Annoyed, sure, but not angry. I kicked myself for not noticing he’d given the cats some treats the night before. That was his tell that he got fired, and I missed it.
“He is. That’s why you two never fight. It’s not healthy. It’s important to be open about your emotions”—Jackie leaned her head on my shoulder—“like we are.”
“That’s not why we don’t fight.” I had to resist telling Jackie she was more than open with her emotions. She could be so mean about it. But I didn’t want to start a fight, especially over Han. “Do you really think fighting is healthy?”
“Of course. It proves there’s love, you know? It wasn’t the fighting that told me my parents stopped loving each other. It was when they stopped fighting. They didn’t fight, because they didn’t care. We care.” She kissed my shoulder again.
“We do,” I reassured her as I kissed the top of her head. I was the opposite of self-aware, but Jackie knew me. She was self-assured and had enough confidence for both of us. She was my first. If fighting was proof of love, then she loved me more than anyone. But what proof was there for Han?
Luna curled up around my feet. Han left her with me whenever I was anxious, which I almost always was. I looked around and noticed he’d already done my dirty dishes. He never guilted or judged me when my executive dysfunction caused him more work. He just did it to make things easier on me.
Everywhere I looked, the evidence was there.