Ty
“Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?” Knox asks as we slide into a booth at Wolfie’s, our favorite bar off campus.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, even though I know exactly what he’s talking about. We’ve been friends so long we can basically read each other’s minds. We met at summer camp, the same place we met Whit and Booker. But Knox and I spotted each other first. He’s the shortest of the four of us, always has been. He’s also a year younger than we are. So, way back in the day, the summer I moved to D.C., I saw him being picked on by a group of assholes. I walked over and told those limp dicks to lay off my brother, and they did.
Now, we’re not brothers. I didn’t even know his name. But I know assholes when I see them, and I know the face of someone who’s taken enough and is on the verge of breaking.
We got reassigned to the same cabin, and we shared it with two knuckleheads from eastern Maryland, who would turn into our closest friends.
As expected, he’s not putting up with my shit. “You know exactly what the hell I’m talking about. You played tour guide toPhoebe James? Seriously?”
“I told you--it was a favor to Gabe. Being partners with him in Chem last year saved my ass and my GPA, so yea. I saw him at the union and he needed a hand. So I covered one of his tours when he got behind. Took half a goddamn hour. So what’s it to you?”
“You couldn’t say no?”
“Really? What was I supposed to say?Sorry, dude, her family hates mine and rightfully so. If she had any clue who I am, she’d run for the hills. You’ll have to cash in that favor later.”
“I don’t understand why you had to come to campus in the first place.”
I sigh. “I just went there to see her--to check on her. Make sure she got here okay.”
“Because that’s not creepy as fuck,” he says, adjusting his backwards ball cap and scanning the menu even though we both have the specials memorized.
“Fair point, but I needed to know, ok? I needed to see for myself that she took the scholarship, that she’s registered, all that shit. I didn’t mean to get roped into showing her around campus, but it is what it is, and now, it’s over.
“You wanted to make sure she took the full ride to a university she had planned on going to, once upon a time? Yea...nobodybut youthought she might back out.”
“She’s had a lot--”
He shakes his head, stopping me mid-sentence. “Dude, I know. But you did what you set out to do. You got her squared away, right? Back on the path she was on.”
“It changes nothing,” I tell him, feeling defeated like always.
“Maybe.” He shrugs. “Or maybe it was the opportunity she needed but wouldn’t have taken otherwise. Either way, she’s here. Your work is done.” He toys with the sugar packets in the little plastic caddy. Guy can’t keep still for a minute. Then he looks back up at me. “You’re gonna let this go, right?”
I shoot him a glare.
“I’m serious, man. How far are you taking this? You gonna pay for her wedding, too? Maybe her kids’ braces someday?”
I flip him the finger, but he’s got a point. I just don’t want to admit it.
Our server swings by and I order a cheeseburger with fries and some sweet tea. Knox asks for the same, but switches it up to a Jack and Coke.
At my silence, he sighs and says, “Seriously, Ty. I love you like you are my damn brother, but tell me you are not this stupid.”
“Are we having a conversation about stupid shit?” I ask, gesturing to the drink our server just placed in front of Knox. “Because it’s one o’clock in the afternoon, you’ve already had Bailey’s with a splash of coffee, and you woke up outside, so…”
Knox just rolls his eyes. “This conversation ain’t about my shitshow. It’s about yours. So, feel free to save the intervention.”
“Dude, I saw her and I couldn’t look away. You didn’t see her face in that courtroom two years ago. Jesus. It fucking haunts me. So, yea, I’m a creeper and I went to check on her and ran into Gabe, and you know the rest.”
“So, what now?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Are you done? Don’t roll your eyes at me, fucker. I’m serious. You’ve made amends, though Christ knows they weren’t yours to make. You can leave it alone now, let it go. Phoebe James is not your responsibility.”
Our food arrives and I’m grateful for the distraction. The conversation veers toward safer topics, and I’m relieved. Because, yes, Knox is right, and he isn’t saying anything I haven’t told myself already. Phoebe James isnotmy responsibility. Not anymore. I’ve done what I set out to do. Mission accomplished.
