Chapter 2

Joey was waiting for me when I arrived at the high school on September 24. His shaggy black hair hung around his face, partially covering green eyes and tan skin. Joey was pretty hot, in a different, emo way. Not that my brother was emo, he just looked it.

He nodded a hello to me, and we headed for the river. Joey rode his skateboard, which he'd received on his tenth birthday. I rode my bike. The bike was nearly twenty years old, and had been my mother's before it was mine. We rode past the drugstore, where Mr. Little shot us disapproving looks. He hated "those damn skateboards" because more often than not, local skateboarders would knock over his outside display racks. Then came Third Avenue, where Mrs. Carlson lived. She wasn't very fond of Joey. As a boy, he'd ridden his bike through her petunia beds on more than one occasion. A few more blocks, left on Elm Street, right on Fifth, and we were there.

We sat on our favorite rock. Gray and flat, it protruded into the river, with water rushing around it. The riverbank was steep, and we were practically invisible when sitting on our rock. Joey produced two Cokes from his backpack, and I brought out Little Debbies. We sat for awhile skipping rocks and making small talk about school. But I could tell that he had something else on his mind.

"Joey, quit it. I don't want to hear about your math test," I said.

He looked taken aback, but then a little sheepish, as if he had a secret that he was trying to hide, but knew that I would find out.

"What's on your mind, really?" I asked

"Erin and I have a date tonight."

"So? You've been going out since June. You've had lots of dates."

"This one's different."

"Why?"

Joey took a deep breath, as if he was preparing to dive into water.

"I'm bringing her to the river. To show her the rock, and just all the places we go when you and I come down here."

"Oh."

"Look, it's not like I'm replacing you or anything. You're my best friend. She's my girlfriend. There's a huge difference."

Joey and I never called each other brother or sister. Our connection was more friends than siblings, but it ran deeper, into our blood. I suppose that's what happens when your best friend is you brother.

"Denny? Denny! Denise!"

My full name got my attention. "What?"

"Are you mad about me bringing Erin here?"

"No."

"Sure seems like it."

I could never hide anything from Joey.

"Well…I guess…this is kind of our place. It's just special for us."

"Denny, it won't be special to Erin and me. Not like it is for us. It'll be different. I just want to show her where all the great thinking of mine happens."

Joey had a sense of humor, but he was horrible at making jokes. "Look, I'm fine with you guys coming here. Just don't do anything too dirty, okay? I want to be able to sit on this rock without imagining you two going at it."

Joey came home around nine-thirty. Usually he and Erin stayed out late, coming back only a few minutes before curfew at eleven. I was watching baseball with my parents and little brother Eddie when he came storming in. He didn't look at any of us, just stormed up to his room. My parents looked anxiously up the stairs, but neither moved. They knew better than to disturb Joey when he was in one of his moods.

Later, on my way to bed, I heard Joey softly strumming his guitar. The tune was odd, syncopated, and remorseful. It had a mix of emotions that confused me. Usually Joey wrote with one emotion, clean and pure. But not tonight.

I knocked quietly. No answer, just music. So I opened the door and walked in. Abruptly, the music stopped. Joey looked up at me with angry eyes. "What?" he bellowed. His tone was threatening, scary almost. Joey had never been mad at me.

"I-I just wanted to see if you were all right," I stuttered.

"I'm fine." He slowly began to turn away.

"No you're not. I know it. Please, Joey, just tell me."
As soon as I spoke, I knew I'd gone too far. Joey turned to face me, his face full of anger.

"You know what annoys me about you? You always have to be in everyone else's business. You don't know how to just let people alone. You always think you understand, but you're just a nosy bitch, Denny, face it."

"Joey…why are you-"

"Just shut up and get out! Just for like five minutes get out of my life."

Joey was steaming red. His face, his body, his room all teemed with anger and hatred. My throat began to close and tears began to fall down my face.

His expression softened. "Denny, it's not you, look-"

But I was already long gone, out of his room, out of his life, just like he wanted.