CHAPTER 2 #2
I take a few steps backwards and run my hand part-way through my hair before absentmindedly scratching my head as I make my way back to the stoop.
I put my backpack on and wheel my luggage to the glass door.
Using the fob, I open it and stop it from closing with my suitcase before going back to grab my surfboard.
The lobby smells like new carpet and fresh paint. The walls are crisp white and the floors charcoal. The elevator doors are shiny and metallic, and I catch a glimpse of how tired I look in their reflection before they open.
The hallway of level five doesn’t smell fresh like the lobby, though it still looks new.
I rest my board by the door of apartment 5F and let myself in.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I curse and jerk my suitcase in front of me before kicking it over in anger because Shawn didn’t just move out, she raised the place to the fucking ground.
There’s no sofa. No TV. No art on the walls. The only thing that’s left is a dead roach, legs up, in the corner where the fridge should be.
I trudge back to the hallway to collect my board, and with it inside, I drop my backpack to the ground. The sound of my skateboard hitting the floor echoes off the empty walls.
The kitchen is a crime scene. Every drawer and cupboard is open and cleared out.
I hit the main bedroom next, hoping there’s at least a pillow, but it’s the same deal. She took the bed frame and chest of drawers—any clothes of Eden’s that had been inside are in a pile on the floor. And in the wardrobe only his clothes remain, though they look rifled through.
There are no spare sheets, or towels.
No toilet paper, or soap.
The only thing she left behind is the futon in the spare room, and I swear it’s as old as I am. It looks like someone tried to fold it up and failed halfway so it’s sitting at a 45-degree angle, like a dying animal that can’t decide whether to get up or lie down forever.
I drop onto it, the joints groaning under my weight, and stare at the ceiling.
Did I seriously leave paradise for this?
Parties nearly every night.
Men and women on tap.
Warmth, and sunshine, and waves—
My phone starts ringing and I almost jump out of my skin.
“Jesus, Eden. What the hell is going on?”
My brother’s voice is low and crackly, and the background noise is pure static. “You make it in?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Such a warm welcome.”
“Did Shawn let you in?”
“Bi-proxy, I guess.”
“Did she get all her shit out?”
“She got everything out… When are you coming back?”
“I’m not.”
I sigh. “Don’t be an idiot.”
“Did she tell you why I’m here?”
“I haven’t seen you in years. You should be here. With me. Right now.”
Eden grunts like I’m the problem. “You’ve got the apartment to yourself, rent free, for three months. You should be thanking me.”
“If I wanted to be alone, I’d have gone back to San Diego.”
“You still can.”
“Fuck you.”
“Excuse me?” His voice raises.
“Fuck you!” I say louder. “She said you’ve been gone since Tuesday. Would it have killed you to let me know what was going on? And what if Shawn hadn’t been here? I’d still be stranded outside with no way of getting in.”
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
“Like what? Like you’re a damn child? You are one, cause this isn’t how thirty-four year olds behave. You’ve known this date for months. It was your fucking idea that I come here in the first place, then you just up and leave on a whim without telling me!”
He’s quiet for a second. “I thought you’d be happy to have the place to yourself.”
“Wow,” I say. “You really have no idea, do you?”
“It’s only for a few months. You can survive.”
“Of course I can survive, I’ve been doing it my whole life. But I wanted to see you. What the hell happened that could justify you doing this?”
“I found her choking on another guy’s dick.”
I exhale like the air is punched out of me.
“In our bed… She’s lucky I didn’t fucking kill her.”
The bandage. The black eye. “Was it Reeze?”
“Bad news travels fast,” he mutters.
“He was here helping her move stuff out.”
“Was he inside?” Eden snaps.
“No. Jeeze. She had stuff strewn across the front lawn, he was just packing it in his van.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
“I asked if he knew you and where you were, and he said he was sorry. It looked like he wanted to crawl inside his own asshole.”
“Spineless piece of shit. I’ve never known someone so desperate to be liked.”
“God, I don’t care. It’s not about them.”
“Like fuck, it isn’t.”
I stand up as I yell into the phone. “Like fuck it is! I’ve just flown half way around the world expecting to be greeted by my brother, and instead I’m met with nothing but Shawn’s bad attitude and an empty goddamn apartment!”
“And what about me, huh? We were together for five years and she was sleeping with one of my friends behind my back. What did you expect me to do?”
“Not to act like a child? To put someone before yourself.”
“I did. For five years!”
My voice softens and I flop back onto the futon. “So that makes it okay to forget about me?”
“I didn’t, I… I just didn’t think it through properly.”
“Are you really not coming back?”
Eden doesn’t say anything for a moment. “I can’t, not now, but… You’ll be fine,” he says at last. “You always are. You moved to Hawaii at eighteen, then to Indonesia for a year. If you can handle that, you can handle three months without me in Broadrock.”
It’s not the same. I want to say it, but I know it won’t matter.
“Why don’t you head down to the shop? Tek’s there on his own now. He won’t admit it but he could really do with an extra pair of hands.”
“I’m not a charity case.”
“Then go back to San Diego,” he says, as if it’s a kindness. “Spend Christmas with Mom and Brian. The surfing is better.”
“I’d rather fuck a broken glass table."
He laughs, and it almost sounds genuine. “Suit yourself. The futon’s yours if it's still there. Try not to bleed on it.”
There’s a click, and he’s gone.
I should still be angry. I should want to punch something or call Eden back and scream. But all I feel is this dull, spreading numbness. Like I’m floating, not quite here, not quite anywhere.
I’m an idiot for thinking that this is the place where I’d finally feel at home.
All the happy memories I have of growing up here before Dad moved us away have Eden in them. He was my world. My everything. He’d finish school for the day then pick me up from daycare and we’d spend every hour together until I fell asleep in his lap.
He’s the only real parent I’ve ever had.
I wanted to spend Christmas with him. With his family—even if that meant Shawn, too. But I’ve come all the way home just to be alone again.
I should have stayed in Indonesia. At least I had friends there.
It’s going to be a long fucking winter.
I drop my phone to the floor and collapse sideways on the futon.
It’s lumpy, but it’s soft. Without bothering to take my shoes off I pull my feet up, fold my arm beneath my head like a pillow, and close my eyes.
Because what else can I do right now? I can’t change anything, so I might as well get some sleep.
Iwake up to the smell of my own armpit and the shriek of my phone.
I peel my face off the futon and squint at the screen. It’s just after two-thirty p.m. and Eden’s name is flashing on the screen.
I rest my phone on the side of my face and let my arm flop back down. “What?”
“Rude.”
“Shut up.”
“Have you gone yet?”
“Gone where?”
“To the shop.”
“I haven't even left the spot I was when we last spoke.”
“Lazy ass,” he mumbles.
“Why do you care so much?”
I can hear him hammering something in the background. “Can you just do me this one favor?”
“You mean after you left me stranded with no clue what was going on?”
“Yeah, I know… I’m sorry.” I can hear in my brother’s tone that it’s not easy for him to admit. But Mom did an even worse job raising him than she did with me, so I’ll take the win. “Tek just,” he continues. “He just shouldn’t be alone.”
I take hold of my phone, and sit up. “Should you not have thought of that—”
“I wasn’t thinking, okay!” Eden snaps, then catches his breath. “But I couldn’t stay in town. There’s just too many reminders of everything, everywhere.”
“Did your conscience finally catch up with your impulses?”
“I’m serious, Carey. I can’t be there, so I need you to be… Please.”
I flop back down on the futon. “I hardly know the guy, and I wouldn't say he likes me. So why am I suddenly his emotional support animal?”
“Because other than from me, he’ll never ask for help.”
I sigh. “And did he ask you for it?”
“He’s my best friend,” Eden says, as though that explains everything. “And he needs to not be alone.”
“But you don’t care about leaving me alone,” I say softly, and snidely, and with the full intention of Eden hearing.
“Just go. You’ll figure it out.” I can hear him biting his tongue.
“What if I don’t want to?” I say, pushing, hoping for a real answer.
“Goddamn, I don’t give a fuck. Do what the hell you want, that’s what you’re gonna do anyway.”
I laugh and snort. “Says the guy hiding in a shack in the woods because his girlfriend wanted different dick.”
“You want to trade lives, be my guest,” he says, and as he hangs up, I throw my phone against the wall. It leaves a dent in the drywall but Eden can consider that the start of how I’m going to pay him back for this bullshit.