5. Lourdez
FIVE
Lourdez
I ’d tried to sleep and failed. Every time my eyes closed, I saw a younger Lochlan on that stand, lawyers interrogating him, the jury staring at him with blank faces. The whole time, his eyes stayed on me, pleading with me to tell them that it was all lies.
At one point during the trial, I almost stood up and told the courtroom everything. But my father’s calloused fingers scraped against my pants and jabbed into the flesh below, warning me to stay put that I’d sworn an oath. That I’d get into so much trouble.
And I’d back down, terrified.
I glance over at Lochlan. He’s so different from the skinny twenty-one-year-old boy he was three and a half years ago. He was never like Colten. Colten was into sports and pop stars in skimpy outfits. Lochlan was into punk rock, and his love for morbidly depressing tunes is ever-present on this drive.
A new song begins, setting the hairs on the back of my neck on edge. It was playing that night. While my grandfather’s carpet burned my thighs as I tried to get away.
Tears fill my eyes.
Through blurry vision, I’m almost sure he glances my way. The car judders slightly as the song cuts short, another beginning before a single word was sung.
Does he remember walking in with that playing? To wiping away my tears as the drums faded out and it came to an end?
His face gives nothing away as he casually slides his glasses higher up a nose that looks to have been broken once. The little bump that he never had before torments me with thoughts I don’t know to be true.
What happened to him in prison? Did someone start a fight with him because they had a daughter my age? Did someone hurt him just because they were an asshole or because they thought he was?
“What happened to your nose?”
He visually swallows. “It got broken around a year ago.”
“How?” I probe because I don’t think he’ll answer, but he does.
“Some guy told me I was scum for assaulting a teenage girl and then elbowed me in the face.”
“Did he get away with it?”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Did you at least hit him back?”
“No. It wasn’t worth my freedom. I knew the end was near, and I didn’t wanna do anything that would add even a day on.”
I nod and let silence settle between us, but he talks again, “Is it that noticeable?”
As if he’s conscious, his fingers move to the bump.
“I just don’t remember you having it before.”
“What, you knew what shape my nose was?” His eyebrow raises when his eyes meet mine, and the blue looks so innocent behind those black rims. Like he could never do anything wrong, and honestly, I’m not sure he ever has.
“I had a mild crush.”
A buzzing comes between us, interrupting the awkwardness I’d placed there. He swipes his finger across the phone, answering the call from his dad.
Mr. Drake sounds just like I remember, kinda raspy, almost like a smoker, but I’d never seen him touch a cigarette.
“Son.”
“Hey, Dad. You’re on speaker. I’m on the road now. How’s he doing?”
“He was excited last night when I told him you were driving up again.”
“Ah, missing me already? It’s only been three days.”
“Yeah.”
Three days is a lot when your days are numbered.
“How’s the weather?”
Lochlan sighs. It’s clear that he’s hoping to fabricate the truth, but he also doesn’t want to lie to his father. “Kinda bad.”
“Look, Son. I don’t want you to have an accident.”
“I won’t. I’m fine.”
“It’s a long way to travel by yourself in the snow.”
“I’m not by myself.”
“You’re not?”
“No, I-uh, I picked up Lourdez on the way. She’d broken down and was apparently on her way there, too.”
“Loch, is that a good idea?”
“Dad, you’re on speakerphone,” he reminds him.
“I know, and I haven’t said anything bad. I just, I don’t want any more trouble for you.”
“I understand that, but he wanted to see all his friends, so whether we’d traveled together or apart, we’d have run into each other today.”
“I guess.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Loch—”
“Dad, I get it, I do. But I’m okay, I swear.”
Lochlan’s eyes shift to me, all curled in on myself, feeling like I’m the worst person in the world because, to the Drakes, I am.
The car judders, and it pulls my eyebrows down. This happened earlier, too. It’s almost like the vehicle just wants to give up whenever Lochlan’s attention drifts.
He doesn’t seem to notice.
“Just drive safe, and I don’t want you to rush, but just know, he’s not like he was yesterday when you called.”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“I think that when you leave here today, that’ll be the last time you see your brother.” A sniffle comes down the line.
I feel the same suffocation that Lochlan does as he tries to spit out his words—any words. Nothing leaves his mouth but his tongue wetting his lips.
“Drive safe, Son. I’ll call you if anything changes.”
Another judder, this one worse, as the line cuts off, Lochlan’s attention isn’t on the road. It’s two hours away in a hospital bed where his brother lies.
“Are you okay?” I sniffle, sitting forward enough to see the pain on his face.
“I can’t talk right now.” His voice is almost silent, proving that statement.
The speed of the vehicle increases as his foot gets heavier on the gas, slumping me back in my seat. I grip each side.
The speed terrifies me.
The roads are too bad for this.