13. Deck - Age 18
Chapter thirteen
TWELVE-AND-A-HALF YEARS AGO
T here weren’t any cars parked in front of our house when we pulled in. Good. If I had to suffer this humiliation, I preferred to do it when none of my siblings were visiting. Even Marisol was away. My parents had asked Cori to pick her up at school so they could attend the appointment with me.
Still, it almost surprised me not to see Emilio’s piece-of-shit car by the curb. My second-oldest brother had been on my case ever since one of his cop friends ran into me at Chi-chi’s. He hadn’t said anything to Mamá and Pop, but he’d let me know exactly what he thought of my friend .
Well, Emilio could be pissed all he wanted. No one had noticed when maybe it could have made a difference. Now it was too late. My friends and I were in so deep with Chi-chi that I had no idea how to save us. That motherfucker had us by the balls.
I bolted out of the back seat the minute Pop killed the engine. The screen door leading into the kitchen snapped on its hinges when I jerked it back, the metallic clatter igniting the air between me and my parents.
Mamá and Pop hurried in after me, sensing my intention to hightail it to my room.
“Stop!” Pop called out. “We need to talk about this.” He pulled out a chair at the table, hitching his neck in a sit-down gesture.
I sat. I supposed one thing I could be grateful for in all my dumbfuckery over the past few years was that I hadn’t totally jacked my relationship with my family.
To be sure, I’d been a terrible son. I’d pretended, stonewalled, evaded, avoided, hedged, and lied.
I’d ignored their worried faces when Cruz picked me up and their frowns when I stumbled home wasted.
Despite that, I attended family dinners, kept my room straight, watched a game with Pop once in a while, and did enough for them to convince themselves everything was fine.
Or at least not entirely out of control.
Now, a crack.
None of what happened at the meeting today was their fault, although I knew they blamed themselves.
But it wasn’t on them. This shit was all me, and I’d gotten good at ignoring the regret that sometimes threatened to rise from my stomach and consume me whole.
I could usually push it down with alcohol, weed, or a new score. I didn’t know what else to do.
My mom sat down next to me. “ Mijo , I know you’re disappointed, but it’s not the end of the world. You heard what Mr. Carson said. It’s only one more year, and you can do it mostly online. You’d only have to go into the school building a few times a month.”
“Mamá, you need to let it go. I’m done with high school.”
The guidance counselor had been clear. I’d failed too many courses to graduate with my class. Even making accommodations for the diagnosis I’d received at the end of junior year, it was too late.
My mother put her head in her hands. “ Es mi culpa .” Her shoulders shook. She looked up at my father with tears in her eyes. “ No presté atención .”
“It’s not your fault, Mamá,” I insisted.
Pop put a hand on her shoulder. “None of us were paying enough attention, María. Especially not that fucking school.” My pops’ Irish cheeks got red easily.
He’d worked himself up in the counselor’s office earlier, having some choice words for an education system that hadn’t figured out I was dyslexic until I was seventeen.
“It doesn’t matter.” I pushed back my chair. “I can take the GED next year. It’s done.”
“Is that what you want, son?”
I laughed roughly. “Unless you have a time machine where I can go back and start over, it’s really the only option.”
I knew my parents thought I was talking about getting the late diagnosis for the learning disability, but they had no idea.
The fact that I still attended school at all was a miracle.
Maintaining that appearance had been for them, not me.
But I felt so fucking far from high school—classes, school plays, pep rallies, prom, football games—all that shit… Dios .
Not getting my diploma? That was nothing. That was a problem I could solve.
If they knew about Eliazar…or Cruz…or Johnny…especially Johnny, who they loved like a son. Fuck!
The day before, I’d pulled Johnny out of a dumpster.
A warning shot from Chi-chi. I’d been lucky to find him at all, except somebody saw two guys toss him in there, and then told someone else, who told someone else, who told Cori.
She came to me, crying. She asked for my help and wanted to come with me, but I wouldn’t let her.
I told her I’d only fish him out if she met us back at her place.
She knew what her brother was. She didn’t need to see it up close.
When I’d brought Johnny to her, he smelled like a locker room towel bucket and had pissed himself.
Cori’s mouth had trembled as she led him into the trailer’s tiny shower. She’d thanked me and told me to let myself out while she got her brother cleaned up. Remember when I helped you with your SAT words? I’d thought. The last time had been more than a year ago. Another life.
Mamá sat up in her chair, the motion bringing me back to the present. “We did this,” she said to Pop. “We took our eye off the ball.”
“Yes,” Pop agreed sadly.
“No.” I shook my head. “You guys had other priorities. As you should have.”
Marisol’s name hung unsaid in the air between us, the way it always did. I’d gotten away with a lot of shit because my parents had had to focus on my baby sister. They rarely made me talk about it, but Pop wasn’t letting me off the hook this time. His hand moved from my mother’s shoulder to mine.
“What happened to Mari wasn’t your fault, Artie. We’ve told you over and over. It was an accident. And Mamá is right. No matter how busy we were, you’re our son, and we should have known this was happening.”
Again, I felt my regret fighting its way to the surface. They were still talking about school. The learning disability. The grades. They didn’t know how shallow that problem was. How manageable compared to everything else.
At least a GED provided an answer. It wasn’t a cap and gown, but it was something.
The rest of it, though. We’d been crazy to think Chi-chi was doing anything other than playing with us.
Grabbing at the collar of my T-shirt, I yanked, pulling until the neckline stretched out, freeing my throat.
The regret trailed up through my lungs, settling like a boulder on my chest. The weight of disappointing people.
Shrugging aggressively, I dislodged Pop’s hand. “School isn’t for everyone,” I said, standing. “It’s not your fault that I’m…how I am. I’ve told you before. Some people are just fuckups. I’m sorry.”
“ Mijo —”
“No.” I put up my hand. “I don’t want to fight. It’s done.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Ignoring my father’s down-turned mouth, I stared at the device as messages came through fast and furious.
CRUZ: chi-chi said time’s up
CRUZ: said dumpster thing was just a warning
CRUZ: taking a down payment out of J
CRUZ: said E can be the late payment
CRUZ: sent bash to pick E up
CRUZ: I need to do the job. It’s the only way
CRUZ: but it has to be tonight
CRUZ: can you make sure J hides
CRUZ: find E soon, k?
“Fuck!” I ran a hand through my hair.
“Language, Artie.” My pops took a step toward me but, registering my expression, thought better of it. “What’s the matter?”
I looked at the phone. My pulse thudded as I typed.
ME: On my way
“Artie!” Mamá’s voice was both firm and terrified. “? Qué está pasando ?”
I forced myself to level my voice. “Uh, nothing. Sorry I cursed. It’s just… Cruz was supposed to pick me up, and his car won’t start.”
“You’re going out tonight?”
My hand quaked as I stuck my phone back in my pocket. I needed to leave. “There’s nothing more to discuss, right? It’s decided. About the GED.”
Pop put his arm around Mamá again, and they shared a loaded glance. “We thought we could get a pizza. Watch a movie. You, us, and your sister. Cori too, if she wants to stay.”
I hated the looks on their faces. Maybe in some other universe, I could have stayed. Stayed and argued over pizza toppings and movie choices and let them cheer up their kid who’d gotten some bad news. Stayed and spent time with Cori.
But I had to fucking leave.
“We were gonna go to a party at another friend’s house, but if Cruz’s ride is busted, I guess we’ll just play video games at Eliazar’s. It’s okay if I take the car there?”
The lie slipped easily off my tongue. They always did. My parents would be so glad that I wasn’t going to some random party. They wouldn’t question me playing video games with a friend they knew and liked.
They didn’t know Eliazar had been kicked out of his house months ago. That Cruz had just sent me on a mission to rescue him.
Mamá sighed and nodded. “Just don’t be home too late.”
“Sure, Mamá.” I gave her and Pop forehead kisses. “I’ll be good.”
As I ran outside, I planned. I needed to tell Johnny to hide in case Chi-chi came looking for him. It would have been nice if I could have texted him, but his phone was somewhere in that dumpster.
But I also had to find Eliazar. Because it sounded like Bash was going to take what he wanted.
I couldn’t even think about what Cruz was doing right now.
Cori walked up with Marisol as I came out into the driveway.
“Hey!” she called out, waving hesitantly. Leaning down, she said something in my sister’s ear. Marisol giggled and disappeared into the house.
I thought about not stopping. I doubted Eliazar had time to spare. Then I realized Cori might be able to solve one of my problems.
“Cori.” I walked over until we stood face-to-face in the grass.
She wore a polo shirt from the Center and baggy shorts. There was a heaviness in the set of her shoulders, but her expression remained indiscernible .