Page 16 of Defend Me
“Gorgeous,” I repeated. “Good looking Pokémon never hurt anybody.”
“Are you…”
“No, I’m not hitting on you. I’m trying to stroke your ego.”
“I don’t have one.”
“Sure, you do. You’re just out of your element here and defensive. Lighten up, man. Hit that a few more times. Maybe I’ll order us some Thai food.”
“Alright,” he agreed hesitantly.
“Atta boy. Maybe we’ll manage to wipe that scowl off your face. You’ll get frown lines and that would just be a damn shame.
Dean tried to pass the pen back to me, but I shook my head. I’d smoked enough already, plus I had a few more around here somewhere.
“This shit’s good,” he said. “You know, they should let everyone smoke before class. I wouldn’t hate going so much.”
I chuckled. “Based.”
“So, what do your parents do?”
“Bitch, moan, and ask me about my grades.”
He pursed his lips, which I kind of hoped was his way of trying not to smile. He’d already done it once in the hallway.
“They’re attorneys,” I said. “In the corporate world.”
“Makes sense. Is that your goal?”
Biting my lip, I took a seat at the island and considered how to answer. The point of inviting Dean was to avoid real life. He didn’t give a shit about me or what made me tick. We were supposed to smoke and have surface-level conversation.
Eventually, I shrugged. He stared at me for another moment before he walked over to the windows.
“What about your parents?” I asked, spinning around on the stool to look at him.
“Mom is a nurse. Dad doesn’t work.”
“Why not?”
“Does that matter?”
“Objectively, no, but I don’t mind asking questions others would be too uncomfortable to ask.”
Surprisingly, he breathed a laugh. “Fair. My dad was injured in the army. He has a TBI.”
“Shit. Does the VA pay him?”
His eyes rolled a little. “Yeah, but they categorize him as sixty percent disabled and they live in New York, so it’s not enough. He should be at a hundred percent, but…” He shrugged.
“Man, that’s fucked. Why don’t they move somewhere less expensive?”
“Moving requires money. Not everyone has expendable income or savings, so they’re just stuck. One day…” He trailed off and shook his head.
I got to my feet and joined him by the window. “Go on.”
“One day, if I make enough money, I’m gonna buy them a house. Anywhere they want. And my mom will never have to work doubles again.”
My chest constricted at his words. This was one of the reasons why I didn’t let myself stew in my own perceived issues. They were nothing compared to what I’d just heard.
