Year Four/Week Eleven – Present
After missing Thursday’s class, I called Blu the following Monday.
I don’t know what came over me Wednesday night, seeing her with some guy, some fuck who dressed the same as Morris and Danny.
He had a good build. He was tall, nice hair. Seemed like a decent dude.
I was better, wasn’t I? Blu wanted me. I knew her. He didn’t.
A part of me wanted to keep the knowledge I had of her as my own personal trophy. Knowing her was all I had over this guy.
“Jace?” She always answered the call with my name. I found it endearing.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
She was silent for a few moments, probably wondering why the hell I was calling her at 8:09pm on a random weeknight.
“Good, what’s up?”
We always did this. Pretended like nothing happened, no conversations took place days prior. It’s like each morning was a fresh start and we wouldn’t be affected by prior circumstances.
“Just wanted to see how your date went.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“No?” I readjusted my position on the mattress. “He’s a good looking guy, Blu.”
Why the fuck did I always do that? Like, I wanted her to say no, of course I did. I wanted to be the only one she thought was attractive. So unrealistic, so fucking delusional.
“Okay…”
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
As I opened my mouth to make an even bigger fool of myself, a “call waiting” alert vibrated my phone: Scott Boland.
“Blu, I got to go. I’ll see you in class.”
I hung up before she could say goodbye, not that there was much of one to exchange, and answered my oldest brother’s call.
“Hello?”
“Want to have dinner Wednesday night?” he suggested amidst the distant sounds of a T.V. playing.
My whole face lit up. Scratch that, my whole fucking world. Mom must’ve told him I wanted to spend some time with him.
Last week, I’d sat down with her and had a heart to heart. Dad wasn’t even a piece of the puzzle anymore. All he did was come home, whine and complain about some aspect of his life and repeat. All his problems somehow involved yelling at Mom and me, as if we were the punching bag he possessed.
My brothers, they were all I had of a father figure. It sucked, it really fucking sucked that I couldn’t spend as much time with them as I wanted to. But they didn’t want to spend time with me. That was the worst part.
I was too young.
I wouldn’t understand their careers.
I wasn’t good company.
I was inconvenient.
Fuck was it ever painful sometimes. I never wanted to beg for someone’s affection, let alone my brother’s time. I just couldn’t take it anymore. The house was too quiet, my mind was too noisy. Mom was the closest thing to me, and for a while, that was sufficient.
But when we sat down over dinner, something switched in my brain. I realized how lonely things had been, not just for me, but for her. Maybe if I spent more time with my brothers, Mom and Dad could repair a love they lost. Maybe they could have alone time, go on dates – I wouldn’t be a burden, a part of the problem. After all, I wasn’t planned. Maybe they really did see me as some kind of nuisance.
That’s what I led with talking to Mom. She cried. I held back tears. I never cried in front of anyone.
“You’re not a nuisance, Jace,” she tried, stroking my cheek. “I’m sorry you’ve been feeling so down.”
I shrugged. “It’s not really you, Mom. I don’t know. I just feel like Bax and Will and Scott, they don’t really care. And, you know, we’re brothers. It’s tough being alone all the time. Seeing my friends with their brothers and not having that.”
“Will and Bax are always so busy, baby. You know that. But I can talk to Scott.”
It warmed my heart, but I also felt like a charity case. “I don’t want him doing anything just because you told him to.”
“I’m sure he’d love to spend some time with you.” She pushed out of her chair, carrying her plate to the sink. “For what it’s worth, Jace, I’m glad you talked to me about it.”
Since that conversation, I realized the value of communication. Maybe that’s why I told Blu how I felt. There were so many things she kept hidden, so many secrets she wanted to bury. If she wanted a friendship with me (as much as I wanted one with her), we had to be open and honest, even a little. How else was I supposed to get to know her?
“Jace?” Scott’s voice pulled me out of my head. “Wednesday sound good?”
“Yes, yeah. Absolutely,” I responded with lightning speed, as if the invitation was going to fly away and I wouldn’t be able to catch it. “Looking forward to it.”
The sound of Sabrina’s voice rang through the line. “Hi Jace!”
“Hey Sab,” I smiled, feeling a little more included in my brother’s life addressing his girlfriend.
“I’ll text you Wednesday. Pick a place and meet me downtown for eight?”
“I will, see you Scott.”
The line cut off and I immediately called Blu back.
She answered in two rings. “Hey again.”
“Hi,” I smiled. “Have I ever told you about my brothers?”
“Oh, um – No, never.”
The surprise in her voice made me smile. I felt like I was on top of the world.
“Can I tell you about them?”
She listened while I spoke for over half an hour, opening up to someone who I knew wanted to listen. Even if she didn’t experience the same things I did, I felt like I could trust her. The biggest part of me knew she was a good person, the smallest part of me felt like she cared. Maybe one day those small parts would amount to something larger than they were.
“I’m sorry you feel this way,” Blu said. There was sincerity in her voice.
“My mom said the same thing.”
“At least he asked you to go to dinner, right? That’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, yeah it will be.”
There was a level of silence that followed, a silence that was no longer awkward or deafening. It was comfortable being in contact without saying a word. I felt okay.
“Tell me something about yourself.”
She laughed. “Like what?”
“I don’t know, I feel like I know nothing about you.”
“On the contrary, I’d say you know quite a bit.”
“You’ve never come out and told me anything, though.”
She exhaled. I pictured where she was right now. What she was doing. Why she was devoting her time to talk to me, but then I let go of all those inhibitions and remained present on our call.
“Tell me something that’s happened to you. Something that hurt you.”
“That’s um,” she paused, “That’s a loaded question.”
I didn’t speak further. I knew she’d eventually give in. My voice was strained enough. Hers was all I wanted to hear.
She told me a story about how she had been in a five year relationship, from thirteen to nineteen. How he physically abused her, mentally drained her and stained the idea of love she used to have.
At first, I couldn’t fathom how deep the conversation got in such a short period of time. I listened to all the stories she told me, about how he threw her anniversary gift (a gold watch) at her face, how he cheated numerous times that she gave up counting and turned people against her.
“It blows my mind how some guys can do that to the girl they’re with, the girl they say they love.” I was angry, hurt for her. Blu didn’t deserve that. No one did.
“He never loved me.”
“No, he didn’t.” He couldn’t. “But that has nothing to do with you.”
“I was part of the problem,” she sighed. She did that far too many times in this conversation. I wanted to take her pain away.
“Do you still think you are?”
She was quiet, so I asked another question. “Is that why you didn’t want to tell me anything? You thought I’d judge you?”
I could feel her nodding. “A bit, yeah. I didn’t want to scare you.”
Blu Henderson.
The fiery girl I’d met over two months ago, was scared. She was frightened to allow people in. She didn’t want anyone to get to know her because she thought they’d leave.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I swore.
For the first time, I truly believed it.
But sometimes, belief isn’t enough.
And sometimes, all the time, I wish I were a better man to have kept my promises.
