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
