Naomi
"Post for you," Abbie said brightly, handing over an envelope.
"Thanks," I took it from her and when she wasn't looking, hid it under my pillow. I knew what it was, I didn't need to open it. The longer I lived with Abbie and tried to keep up with her lifestyle, the thicker my credit card statements got. It was easier to ignore them than to worry about how many diner shifts I was going to have to pull to pay it all off again. I always thought I was done, that there was nothing else I needed to buy to fit in. But then Abbie would invite me to get my nails done with some of the girls she'd made friends with and I wasn't used to being asked to that kind of thing so I didn't know how to say no.There were shopping trips where it was weird to be the only one not buying anything. People would comment on it if I didn't so it just became easier to buy something, even if I didn't need it. Then there was brunch. There was always a goddamn brunch.
It was Abbie who'd suggested I get a credit card. She had one and she made it sound so good; get something now, pay for it later. No more waiting for paychecks to come in. But then, after I got my first bill and quietly freaked out about how much I'd spent without realising, she made some passing remarks about how her dad paid everything off for her and I realised that credit cards, like everything else in this place, weren't meant for people like me.
"Y'know," Abbie was scrutinising me in the way she did when she was thinking about trying something out. I smiled in case she could see financial worry etched into my face. "I think you'd look really cute if you cut your hair short."
"I dunno," I said, glancing at my face in the mirror. I was pretty sure she was wrong. I'd cut my hair into a bob once when I was about thirteen and it had looked godawful. My face was way too round and pale, Daryl had called me 'Moonface' for a month. But maybe I'd grown out of it? I squinted at my reflection. Abbie knew more about this kinda thing than I did. Maybe if I paid an actual hairdresser to do it, I wouldn't come out looking so shit.
"I invited everyone to pre-game here," she said. "That okay?"
Like I could say no.
She was always inviting people to pre-game at ours before parties on campus. I didn't mind. People liked being around Abbie, being her roommate made it feel like people liked being around me too. So I just nodded and she smiled and said, "Thanks, Nomes. You're the best."
Nomes.
Abbie never used anyone's full name if she could find a way of shortening it. So now I was Nomes. She said it was cute but I thought it made me sound like a garden ornament.
The girls came round first, as always, to get ready together. It was a weird ritual that I wasn't used to but it was also my favourite part of any night out. We shared makeup and hair irons. We talked about people we knew, like it was our own secret club. Anyone not present would be talked about, which made me nervous any time I couldn't be there because I was working or studying. I worried what they said about me.
Fi, a girl Abbie knew from her Intro to Law course, would complain about how hard it was to see her boyfriend Matt, who was studying music at a different college in Georgia. Abbie would make a lot of sympathetic noises but when Fi wasn't looking she'd give me a look that said 'See, this is why you don't keep dating your highschool boyfriend in college'. She weren't wrong, either. Matt and Fi broke up and got back together more times than I could keep track of. Matt was always coming round so I couldn't work out how Fi even had time to miss him, nevermind complain about it so much.
Most of the time we didn't talk about boys as much as chick flicks had lead me to believe, we talked about bands I hadn't heard of and TV shows they were obsessed with. Tiffany and Brittany, two girls who shared the dorm across the hall from us, were hooked on the Batcherlorette and invited us over every time it was on. To get ready for parties, they'd come to ours. I'd been introduced to them both at the same time and now had trouble telling them apart but it had been too long for me to ask their names again so my new tactic was just to pay attention whenever someone else spoke to them.
Matt was the first to arrive. As always. Fi was immediately all over him so they were clearly going through a good patch. He'd brought a box of his infamous magic brownies.
Chase and Bryce arrived at the same time. Chase was dumb. And a total asshole. And super into Abbie. I could never work out if she liked him back or was just being nice to him. Thanks to Abbie I was still disguised as someone better than me but it was like he knew. Like he could smell the real me underneath it all. He asked so many unwanted and intrusive questions and I had to watch what I said in case I let my real personality slip.
Bryce was his much nicer roommate, who was also in one of my Lit classes. While Chase was busy trying to impress Abbie with how many keg stands he could do, he'd come and tell me about the books he was reading. I couldn't tell if he was nice because that's how he was or if it was just because his friend was chatting up mine and otherwise we'd be spending most of our time in an awkward silence.
When Jason, one of Chase's teammates, arrived Abbie put on some music and handed out drinks. Peach schnapps because that was her favourite. The boys had brought bottles of beer, ready for a game of beer pong later. I didn't get the appeal but everyone else was obsessed with it. I had better aim than all of them combined but I didn't want to stand out so sometimes I'd deliberately miss. Despite their fancy educations and hunting club memberships, they'd all have been real terrible hunters if they'd had to do it for real and not just sport.
I took a glass from Abbbie and Matt started handing out his brownies. I felt my stomach sink down to my feet as they were passed around.
"Not hungry, Naomi?" Chase asked with a smirk.
"Leave her alone," Abbie said but she giggled.
"Sure you don't want one?" either Tiffany or Brittany asked with a really sweet smile. I couldn't tell if it was genuine or not. She had the kind of sweet voice that meant it took a while to notice she'd said something horrible.
"Yeah, I'm sure," I said. "Thanks, though."
There was a hesitation and then they passed over me. I breathed a sigh of relief. Someone knocked on the door. I looked around at everyone and wondered who else we were expecting, it could be hard to keep track of all of Abbie's friends.
"Might be Hendrix," Jason said. "He was asleep when I left."
That made sense. He was constantly napping and often late, looking sleepy even when he did arrive. I had no idea if Hendrix was his first of last name or just a dumb nickname. He answered to it so it didn't seem to matter. Abbie, always the attentive host, fixed a big smile on her face and headed towards the door. The rest of us kept listening to whatever Chase was bragging about. I was vaguely aware of Abbie sounding surprised and whoever was on the other side of the door hardly saying anything in the face of her cheeriness.
"Uh, Nomes," Abbie turned to me. I jumped. I was used to melting into the background at these parties. She was doing her best to stay friendly but something had clearly rattled her. I stood up, worried that some asshole she'd rejected had come by looking for a fight. That happened sometimes. "Your not-boyfriend is here."
"My what?"
There were a few guys that Abbie often teased me about dating. Basically anyone she caught me talking to, but usually it was Bryce and he was already here, flipping through my Virginia Woolf collection. I could see the shadow of someone looming in the doorway behind her.
"Um… Darren?" she guessed with a shrug, as she got closer to me she whispered. "He is in a bad mood."
"Oh my God, Daryl?" I asked her, feeling my heart leap into my throat. Was that who she meant? I caught the door before it swung shut.
It was him.
He stared back at me. One of his eyes was swelling. I could see the bruise already forming. He didn't say anything but I knew something bad had happened. He was in a crap mood. All he could do was glower. I stepped out of the room and closed the door on the party behind me. "Hey. You okay?"
It was obvious he wasn't. I wanted to hug him but he didn't much look like he was in the mood. The sound of music and laughter wafted through the door and he flinched.
"This a bad time?" he asked.
"No," I assured him. "Never. We can go somewhere else, these guys'll be gone to some dumb frat party in an hour or two. Let's get some food."
"Nah."
He continued to stand there. His eyes fixed on the ground at my feet. They were sad and angry. I knew that look.
"Your face," I said quietly. "Your dad do that?"
He nodded. Once. I wondered how bad it had been this time, if his back was bleeding again. As far as I knew, it had been ages since his dad had tried anything like that. Daryl was older now, bigger and stronger. I'd thought that might keep his dad away, might stop the beatings. I thought the kind of cowards that took their anger out on children would stop when the child became a man. Clearly not. I tried to get a look at Daryl's fists, to see if there was any sign on them that he'd fought back. They looked clean.
"Okay," I said. "Let's go."
I wasn't sure yet if I was going to take him for food to cheer him up or to kill his dad. I was angry and for the first time, I really thought Daryl and I were big enough to fight back. The two of us together, we could take on anyone. He could live in my dorm with me. Abbie would just have to deal with it. I sure as hell wasn't sending him home like this.
A burst of laughter from behind the closed door was jarring. This moment in the hall felt more real than the party I'd just stepped away from. I felt more real than I had in weeks, maybe even months. I thought about how to kick all of them out so I'd have somewhere safe for Daryl to stay.
"Nah," he said again. "Forget it."
I thought for a second that he was about to leave. I reached for him. Then the door behind me opened again.
"You guys okay?" Bryce's smiley face peaked out at us and his friendliness felt so out of place, so unwelcome.
"Yeah," I said quietly. "We're just gonna-"
"You not gonna invite your friend in?" Chase called from behind me. "That's not very sociable of you, Nomes. You embarrassed of us?"
I sighed. Daryl sighed too and I saw his fists clench. He stared at Chase over Bryce's shoulder. Bryce looked apologetic, even though it wasn't him who was being an asshole.
"Ignore him," I said to Daryl. "Let's just get out of here."
"Nah," he said. "Let's go in. You having a party? Sounds fun."
He said it all through gritted teeth, like it was the least fun thing he'd ever heard.
"You don't have to," I assured him but he was still staring at Chase and Bryce like they were challenging him to something.
"Nah," he said, standing up straighter than he usually did. "It's cool. I want to."
He brushed past me without waiting for me to say anything else. I saw his eyes drink in everyone in the room and knew there wasn't one person in there that he'd like. I followed him back in, wanting nothing more than to leave just the two of us.
"This is Daryl," I said, as the door closed behind us and a nervous ball of ice formed in my stomach.
"You want a drink?" Tiffany or Brittany asked him.
"He doesn't drink," I said.
At the same moment, Daryl said, "Yeah."
He grabbed an empty cup and held it out for Brittany or Tiffany to fill it up. She glanced at me, clearly unsure about what to do. I tried to rearrange the worry on my face but I couldn't. I felt sick. I caught his arm.
"You wanna go for a walk?" I asked, quietly.
"Nah, I'm good," he said and pulled away from me to take a seat on the floor. I could feel the anger radiating from him but I couldn't find the root of any of it. I didn't know if it was so obvious to everyone else or if it was just because of how well I knew him. Only Abbie's music stopped the room from being completely silent. Bryce looked at me, concerned. I tried to smile to put him at ease but I was so on-edge it must have looked so forced.
"So…" Chase said, clearly getting a kick out of how awkward everything was. "Daryl. You look familiar, have I seen you around here before?"
"No."
Daryl looked up at him with a glare Chase didn't deserve, not for what had seemed to be a genuine question for a change.
"You're not a student here?" he asked. Daryl shook his head no. Chase nodded, "So what brings you here?"
I wouldn't mind knowing the answer to that myself.
"Passing through," Daryl said with a shrug. He didn't say anything else, didn't smile, just downed his drink without breaking eye contact with Chase.
"What college are you at?" Bryce asked and my heart sank, although I knew he was just trying to be friendly.
"Ohhh let's guess!" Fi said, clapping her hands in excitement.
"Let's not," I glanced sideways at Daryl, wondering why he hadn't just told them that he wasn't studying. Should I tell them? Would that embarrass him? I widened my eyes at Fi, trying to silently communicate to her that she should drop it.
It didn't work and before I could say anything, Fi had said, "North Georgia? That's where my Matty goes."
Matt whooped. Daryl said nothing.
"Savannah State?" Bryce guessed.
"Nah," Chase said. "Guy like this has gotta be Princeton or Yale material, ain't that right champ? Harvard, maybe?"
"Chase, shut up," I said. He let out a quick, surprised laugh.
"Well, Nomes. I think that's the most I've ever heard you say."
It was easier to stick up for Daryl than myself. Chase's smug face usually just made me mildly annoyed but now it just filled me with hate. There was a flicker of anger in Daryl's eyes. Still, he said nothing.
"Daryl's working," I explained. "He's not in school."
"That's cool, man," Bryce said, always calm and forever trying to diffuse the situations Chase got them both into. I wondered why someone halfway decent like Bryce put up with an absolute asshole like Chase. "What do you do?"
"Mechanic," I said, when Daryl wouldn't even look at him nevermind answer.
"Woah, that's cool," Bryce smiled and I was so thankful for him. While everyone else was on edge and didn't know what to make of my friend, it was nice to see that one person from my new life was genuinely welcoming. Or at least, trying to be.
Daryl held his glass out for more. I wanted to stop him. I wanted to pull him out of the room and shake him out of whatever mood he was in. I should have. I wish I had. I could have stopped what came next. But I didn't because I could tell from the way his jaw muscles were clenched under his skin that he didn't want to talk. Even to me. I had never seen him like this before. It was like he was a different person. I moved closer to him, and tried to get his attention. I smelt something more than Abbie's peach schnapps.
"You have a drink before you get here?" I asked him in a whisper as his current cup was refilled. He didn't look at me. Just nodded. My heart was racing. Daryl always said he wouldn't drink for the same reason I was ignoring Matt's pot brownies. Becoming anything like our parents was such a terrifying thought to both of us that we'd sworn off anything that might indirectly lead to it. I knew there was nothing all that wrong with weed. But I didn't want to allow myself to have it and for it to lead to something else. Something worse. For Daryl to be drinking at all… it was huge. It was bad.
"Let's play beer pong!" Abbie suggested as a way to break the tension and distract Chase. "C'mon. Me and Nomes against you and Bry."
"Fine," Chase said and started pouring beer into cups. Bryce put the book he was holding down and sighed, giving me a look that clearly meant he didn't want to play either.
"Anyone else want to take my spot?" I asked.
"Worried you'll lose again, Naomi?" Chase asked.
"No."
I tried to catch Daryl's eye again. But he didn't look at me. He just topped up his own drink.
That was at least three, plus whatever he'd had before he came.
I wished he'd slow down.
Worrying about him filtered out all of my own bullshit worries about myself and I played the fastest game of beer pong I'd ever played. I didn't have the brain space to hold anything back and Abbie and I absolutely crushed the boys. She was ecstatic about it. For a second, it was a normal Friday night.
"Again?" she asked, throwing the question out to the room and one arm around me. "Who wants to take on the reigning champs?"
"I got another idea," Chase said. The look in his eye did not fill me with hope. "Let's play Seven Eleven. That way, everyone can play."
A counting game.
I knew it was because he expected Daryl to be too stupid to keep track. I didn't say anything because I knew better, I knew that Daryl was smarter than Chase and I wanted to see him prove Chase wrong for underestimating him. But in the end, it was me who was wrong, Daryl was too drunk and too moody and didn't give a shit about the game. He slipped up very early.
"This is dumb," he said, drinking down more than was needed for his forefit for losing.
"Now, now," Chase was gleeful. "Don't be a sore loser. The rules aren't hard but I can go through them more slowly if you like."
"Shut up, Chase, he ain't played before!" I was so angry I forgot to use what Daryl calls my Fancy Folks Voice. Chase picked up on it and immediately started mimicking me.
"It's okay," Abbie said in that sweet way that I knew was meant to sound kind but often came off as patronising. "We can just start again."
"Nah," Daryl said. "This is dumb. How lame you gotta be to need a game to get you drunk, anyway?"
Did that mean he'd been drunk before? How long had it been since he'd broken his promise to himself to never start drinking in case he wound up with his dad's addictions? We had sworn it to each other, sealed it in spit. Was that just meaningless childs play to him? Was I dumb for wanting to hold him to it? For keeping my promise so religiously? He picked up a bottle of beer and started chugging it. I'd lost track of how many he'd had while I was still holding my second glass of peach schnapps.
"I've just remembered where I've seen you before," Chase grinned. Daryl stopped drinking. I remember a second of blind relief and then Chase fixed his beady eyes and smarmy grin on me. "Y'know, Naomi I always thought we couldn't get you to loosen up and have a joint with us because you had a stick up your ass about it, but it turns out you were just waiting on this guy to bring you the harder stuff."
I felt my cheeks start to burn and my blood begin to boil. I weren't the only one. Daryl snapped, "Shut the fuck up man."
"He ain't a drug dealer." I said and I was ready to defend him. But then Chase grinned and Daryl flinched and I held back.
"Nah, I've seen you," he said. "Downtown. You and your brother. You're definitely selling something."
"SHUT UP!" Daryl yelled.
"Daryl…" I looked at him, trying to warn him away from a fight. I knew if it came to it, Daryl would beat Chase's ass into the ground. Chase was not the kind of guy that took the hits Daryl had been taking all his life. Daryl was forged in fire and built from steel. I just didn't want to see him escorted off campus in cuffs. Or banned from coming back to see me.
To my shock, it was me Daryl rounded on, "You put up with this kinda shit now? What happened to you?"
I was too stunned to reply.
"Okay, man," Bryce tried to step between us. "Take it easy."
"You fucking this guy or something?" Daryl asked. "Why is he so up in your business?"
The tension in the room was immediately broken, some people laughed, others gasped. Bryce took a hasty step back.
I grabbed Daryl's arm and felt myself go crimson. "Let's go for a walk, yeah?"
He didn't move. Didn't say anything. I could feel everyone staring at us.
"Okay…" Abbie said, slowly "Listen, Nomes, we can just meet you guys at the party. If you're still coming…"
"I'm pretty sure it's students only," Chase said, pointedly. I nearly punched him. It stirred something in Daryl.
"You tell these assholes I was at college? You embarrassed of me or some shit?" he looked so angry. I'd never seen him that angry before, not with me. I couldn't work out what I'd done wrong.
"No!" I said and I hated myself for not sticking up for him sooner, I hadn't thought it would be this big a deal to him. I hadn't thought about how the alcohol he'd had might have changed the threshold for how much bullshit he could handle.
"Yeah, you sure?" he pressed. "Because they seem real obsessed with it. Sure you didn't lie about me like you do about your Momma?"
"What?" there was a hint of amusement in Abbie's voice, like she was about to hear some really juicy gossip. I knew that tone.
"Daryl!" I heard the panic in my voice, pleading with him. I could feel everything about my new life crumbling around me. I closed my eyes, willing myself to be in some kind of shitty nightmare. I could feel the hot tears of betrayal under my eyelids.
"We should go," Bryce said.
Daryl wasn't done.
"Her Momma ain't not visiting because she's workin'," he said. "She ain't here because she's off someplace getting high or fucking guys for money."
I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. I could already hear the people around me whispering.
I wanted to be anywhere but there, feeling so small I thought I might disappear. I wished I would.
"Alright, everyone out!" Bryce demanded, sounding like a school teacher. I heard them leave, heard them whispering to each other in the hallway. When the door closed I opened my eyes, wiped the tears on the back of my hand. Daryl looked a little bit sorry. But not enough.
"What you do that for?" I asked, fighting to keep my cool as the more sober of the two of us.
"What?" he shrugged like it was nothing. Like he hadn't just dropped a grenade into my social life.
"You turn up here, unannounced, uninvited. You're rude to my friends-"
"These ain't your friends, Naomi."
I took a deep but shaky breath, I felt like I'd swallowed glass. "Why are you being such an asshole?"
"Oh you think I'm the asshole?"
"Yes."
"Why? For pointing out that you're a big fake phony now?"
"Just because I've changed, don't mean it's a bad thing!" I said but he weren't wrong. I hadn't felt like myself since he'd driven away in that big dumb truck. The truth of what he was saying cut me deep.
"Look at you, Nomes," he sounded disgusted. Like the sight of me made him feel sick. It made me was to peel off my new-Naomi skin and show him that underneath the dumb make up and clothes I couldn't really afford, I was still just me. "We used to make fun of assholes like this."
"They ain't bad if you give them a chance."
It was another lie and we both knew it.
"Sure."
"You don't even know them." I could hear myself defending them but it was like it wasn't me talking. It was my voice, my words but I wasn't sure I really believed them. I was just so angry with him for drinking so much, for being so hostile when there was no need to be. For humiliating me in front of everyone I knew, even if they could be assholes sometimes.
"I know them better than they know you."
The worst part is, he was right.
"Shut up," was all I could say.
"This ain't you," he gestured at me. "And they're making fun of you, Naomi, they don't like you. You look ridiculous. Playing their dumb games, dressing like them, letting them talk to you like you're nothing. Nomes. Who the fuck calls you Nomes?"
"Shut up."
I knew it only hurt so much because it was loaded with truth.
He stood up. As he did, something fell out of his pocket and hit the ground with a thud. A plastic bag. White powder. He stopped in the middle of the rant he was about to launch into.
We both stared at it. I felt the fire in my veins turn to ice.
"What the fuck is this?" I asked, even though I didn't have to. I knew. Daryl didn't answer, he knew he didn't have to. I took a deep breath. "So, Chase was right? You been out here selling this shit?"
No wonder he'd been so easily riled up. No wonder Chase had been so damn smug.
"Merle…" he said. He didn't finish, he didn't have to. We both knew.
I was so angry that for a moment I couldn't say anything. Daryl hung his head, slightly but not enough.
"You selling for Merle?" I asked. He shrugged. I knew that shrug meant yes. "When did he come back?"
Daryl shrugged. "Couple months back."
"Why the fuck would you do this? For Merle?"
"He's my brother."
"He left you."
"Don't matter."
"Yes it does. What's Herb gonna say if he finds this shit on you at the garage. Huh?"
"Herb already fired me," Daryl said through clenched teeth. I felt like the room was spinning underneath me. I close my eyes for a moment. I was feeling too much. Too much anger. Too much pain. All I could see behind my eyelids was that fucking white powder. The way it looked in lines on my kitchen table, the way my Momma passed out for days afterwards.
"You're a fucking idiot if you're risking everything to sell for that asshole," I said. "He's just gonna leave you again when the next thing comes along. Or you are both gonna end up in jail."
"Hey. He took you in when you need it. Didn't see you turning your nose up at him then," he yelled. "When you're Momma had gone AWOL on you. You ain't better than us just cause you're at this fancy school."
"My Momma only went AWOL because of assholes like you and Merle selling her this shit." My words ripped themselves from my throat. I felt like they were made from fire and blood and bullets.
"Hey, we just sell it," he said. "We don't make people fuck up their lives and abandon their kids. That's on them."
"Stay away from my Momma," I said. I could feel my voice shaking with anger, bile rose in my throat. "You come near her, you come near Mia..."
I'd never shaken with rage before. My hands balled up into fists and it took everything in me not to swing at him. All I could think about was those lines of coke, of Momma passed out, Mia crying on her own like I used to.
"How would you know if I did or not?" he said. "It's not like you're ever there."
"Fuck you."
Guilt and rage were jagged and sore. I hadn't checked in on Mia for ages.
"Yeah? Well fuck you too," he spat at me and stooped to pick up his little bag of powder.
"Merle's a piece of shit." I yelled at his retreating back. "And if you keep blindly following him, you're gonna end up just like him and just like your -"
I stopped.
I'd been going to say dad.
I knew it. He knew it.
But I didn't. Because I didn't mean it. Not even with how mad I was at him.
I was aware of him throwing his half-empty bottle of beer in my direction but I didn't flinch. I was used to him throwing things at or near me to get my attention and he'd never once hurt me. It hit the wall behind me and I heard it break but didn't take it in because everything that mattered to me was already shattered. Our friendship in shards all around my dorm room. I watched the anger in his face dissolve into pain and horror. I wanted to tell him that it was okay, that we could stop this dumb fight now, that the people outside this door didn't matter.
I reached a hand out to him.
And then I saw the blood. It ran in rivers down my arm from where a shard of glass was embedded in the flesh on the back of my hand. I remember being surprised by how warm it was. And that I hadn't felt it happen.
I looked back at Daryl.
I think I even called for him. But he was gone.
I heard a door slam and the pain hit me all at once.
Daryl
"You look like shit, little brother," Merle's face swam into view. His horrible grin made me want to punch him but I felt too sick and tired to actually go through with it.
My head hurt. But my heart hurt more and at first, I couldn't work out why.
"This sofa's shit," I told him, trying to sit up. It was both too soft and too hard all at once. "Why didn't you put me in my own damn bed?"
He laughed, way too loudly. "You were some state," he said. "I struggled to get you to the damn couch. You're heavy these days."
I sat up and the room started spinning. I quickly put my head between my knees and squeezed my eyes tight shut.
"What happened?" I asked.
"I was gonna ask you the same thing," Merle said. "Last I heard, you were off to get the rest of your stuff from dear old dad."
"Oh. Yeah."
"And I know you must have got there because my damn car is full of your shit."
"Yup," the room had stopped moving enough for me to sit up and look at him.
"He in when you got there?"
"Yup."
I had the bruises to prove it.
"You got any more details for me or am I gonna have to guess everything?" Merle asked. He was really enjoying this. I thought I might throw up on him and then I thought that if I did, he definitely deserved it.
"He was drunk," I said, trying to remember going back there.
"No surprises there," Merle said. I nodded in agreement, although I felt like a hypocrite. "What happened?"
I tried to remember.
"We argued," I said. I knew that much was true. I didn't remember how it started. He might have just found out that I wasn't working at the garage anymore, he might have just found out that I was living with Merle now. Both of those were things that had been going on for months but he was so off his face most of the time, I doubt he noticed either. I probably said that to him.
I remembered the beating I took.
I remember how small it made me feel.
Like I was five again. And alone. Just me and him.
I'd thought I was bigger now, that I could take him if he tried that kind of shit again. But when it came down to it, I couldn't. I was too scared. Too much of a coward. And feeling like that had filled me with anger I didn't know what to do with.
I didn't tell Merle that. My cheeks got all hot at the thought of it. And I was already so warm, like alcohol was sweating out of my every pore.
"Then what?" Merle asked.
The memory hit me full force like a freight train.
"I got pissed off," I said. "Drank the rest of his whiskey. Downed it all just to spite him."
Merle was laughing so hard he'd started to wheeze. It was dumb, and even remembering downing the rest of our dad's cheap-ass whiskey made me want to throw up again, but seeing how funny Merle found it make me feel less bad about the whole thing. He looked kinda proud of me. And that was nice. He weren't proud of much.
"Bet he didn't like that."
"No," I said and my bruises throbbed in agreement.
"Then what?"
"I drove somewhere."
I remember getting in Merle's beat up old car with all of my stuff. I remember driving faster than I should have, way over the limit. I remember not caring if I crashed.
"Where?"
I didn't answer him right away.
I remembered. But I couldn't say it out loud.
I also felt real sick. The head between my knees move had done nothing. I hauled myself to my feet and half-ran, half-staggered towards the toilet. Merle and his laughter followed me in there, only drowned out by the sound of the contents of my stomach hitting the toilet bowl.
Goddamn peach schnapps.
It tasted even worse on the way up than it had going down. Merle slapped me on the back a couple of times. I spluttered up more vomit. "Get it all out, little brother."
When I was done I felt empty and queasy all at once, like my stomach couldn't decide if it had more for me to throw up or if it wanted me to eat something. I didn't move from the toilet just in case. I moved to sit beside it, resting my head on the cracked bathroom tiles. Merle sat on the edge of a bath rimmed with mold.
"Dunno what Dad gets out of this shit," I said. "Drink ain't worth this."
"Baby's first hangover," Merle laughed again, still sounding kinda proud. "You'll get used to it, learn your limits."
It weren't just the hangover I was regretting, though.
I remembered.
The glass.
The blood.
I closed my eyes. It was the only way I could get through the next bit. "I saw Naomi."
"Shit, you guys still close?" Merle sounded surprised. I wondered how it was possible that he didn't know that. Had I not mentioned her in the three months I'd been living with him, even though I must have thought about her every single day? "What's she up to these days?"
"College," I said. Merle whistled.
"Wow," he said. "So she really made it, huh? Good for her."
I nodded, opened my eyes and fixed them on a patch of damp in the ceiling.
"If anyone was gonna do it, it was always going to be her," I said.
"And us, little brother," Merle said. "We took a different route is all. But look at us. We're making our own money, ain't back in that place with dad no more. We made it too."
I nodded. I think up until then, I'd believed what he said but it felt like bullshit now. I remembered Naomi screaming at me about her Momma, how she wouldn't have been able to get high if it weren't for guys like us selling her shit. It felt less like we'd escaped from the conveyor belt of bullshit and more like we'd just moved further down the production line. I didn't say that to Merle though, I could feel a cold sweat on my back from all the vomiting and I didn't have the energy to fight him.
"So why'd you go see her?" he asked.
"Dunno," I said. And that was true. I don't think I'd planned to go there. I'd just felt the world speeding past me and in searching for a way to slow it down I'd found myself outside her door. Room 306. "She was having some kind of party."
I could still hear the music, still taste the peach schnapps in the acid at the back of my throat.
"A college party? Nice." Merle said with an approving grin. "No wonder you came back so wasted."
"Like you've ever been to a college party," I rolled my eyes.
"I been to plenty," he said. "Smart kids need drugs too, especially the rich ones. And those college chicks love a bad boy. That why you go see her?"
The suggestive glint in his eyes made me want to kick him but I didn't have the energy to do anything but raise my hand and flush the toilet. It drowned him out for a little bit and washed away the smell of my own puke that was making me want to hurl some more.
"No," I said, when the water and my stomach had settled. "I just wanted to see her."
"That's sweet," Merle said but I could tell that answer bored him. "So you have fun at this party at least?"
"Nah."
"How come?"
"Her friends are assholes."
Merle gave me a sympathetic look like he understood but he didn't. Not really. Her friends were assholes but I was the biggest one.
"They all college bitches?" he asked.
"Yeah."
I remembered Abbie and her dumb peroxide hair. The way she'd been all smiles and hair flips when she'd answered the door only to immediately turn around and say something catty about me being in a shit mood. And she got my name wrong, I'm pretty sure it was deliberate.
And then there was that Bryce guy, always trying to jump in the middle of shit like he was some kinda bodyguard.
And Chase. Fucking Chase.
"You remember Chase Nelson?" I asked. I knew he wouldn't, Merle was never the best with names. "Asshole jock type. Him and his friends bought some performance enhancers off you for some football bullshit?"
"Oh yeah. I think so," Merle said. "Why?"
"We ain't selling to him no more."
"Okay," Merle said. "You get in a fight with him."
"Kinda," I shrugged. Merle stared at me, waiting for more details. "He told Naomi I was selling for you."
This was all his fault.
"Why does she care?"
"You know what her Momma's like."
"That ain't our fault."
"That's what I said." It didn't make me feel any better that my go-to excuse was the same one Merle used.
"You wanna go teach him a lesson?" he asked.
"Nah," I said but I wanted to say yes. "He ain't worth it."
I also didn't know how Naomi would take it if I let Merle and his friends visit one of hers. I didn't even know if Chase was still one of her friends, after I'd called her out on all of her bullshit that night.
I thought it would feel good. To point out how much a phony she was being, to make her see sense. I thought I'd get the old Naomi back, that she'd stop dying streaks of blonde into her weirdly straight hair and come hunting with me. Not that I'd been in a while myself. I remembered the way her eyes had lit up when she'd seen me, how her shoulders had relaxed and for a second, it was like she weren't different.
But she were.
"We fought," I admitted, although I'm sure Merle didn't care.
"Who?" he asked. "You and Chase?"
"No."
There was a long second where worked it out. I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud, to make it real like that. I think he read it in my face.
"You and Naomi?" he said, eyebrows raised in disbelief. I nodded. "Shit. I thought you two were thick and thieves."
"We were," I said. "Before."
"Ah," he nodded like he got it all of a sudden, like he'd ever had anyone in his life like Naomi. "She a real college bitch now?"
"Yeah," I said, although I felt bad for saying it. "Kinda. She's different."
"Shame," he said. "I liked her."
I nodded. I couldn't say anything else.He thought for a moment and then added, "Still. I guess it must be hard, trying to fit in with a bunch of rich bitches like that. Could be kinda lonely. It's nice you went to see her."
It weren't like Merle to have more insight than me, especially when it came to Naomi. But then I remembered dropping her off. She'd been real nervous. She'd been quiet. Even when she'd come home since then, she'd been quieter and quieter. She'd looked less and less like herself.
Had she really just been lonely? Had she done all of that to fit in?
I thought about the dumb shit I'd done to fit in with Merle and his friends since I'd been living here. I thought about how sad she'd sounded when I called her, how she might have tried to tell me then how hard things were. I thought about how I should have tried to call her more.
Some of my thoughts must have shown on my face because Merle stood up and patted me on the head in a way that was mostly annoying but almost affectionate. "It's okay, little brother," he said. "Plenty more fish in the sea."
"Nah," I said because there wasn't a way of telling him how wrong he was that he would get. Naomi weren't some fish. She was family.
"Okay then," he said. "It'll all blow over, that what you wanna hear?"
Yes.
I could tell by the way he said it that he didn't really believe it. But it was what I wanted to hear. I wanted it to be true more than anything.
"We said some pretty horrible shit to each other," I said. The memory made me wince. "Both of us."
"It happens," Merle shrugged. "Some things run their course, bro. You just gotta let go. She think she's too good for you now then fuck her. You got new people now. You got me."
I nodded. Merle was family. Blood. Real family.
"He left you." Naomi's words echoed in my head as Merle walked out of the bathroom. Just because he'd left before, didn't mean he would again. Right? I weren't as sure as I had been before. Without Naomi I was a boat without an anchor. I drifted.
It was easy to drift with Merle, that's what he'd been doing his whole life. He had it down to a fine art. He got bored easy, knew just when he needed to jump out to the next thing. And I jumped with him. We went from one shitty apartment to another, Merle always said that the next one we'd be making enough money to live like Kings, but it was always only just enough to get drunk. To go partying. To pay for gas.
You'd have thought that after everything, I wouldn't have drunk again but I did. I was young. I was dumb.
I pretended with Merle like I didn't know why Naomi was so mad, but I got it. I'd been there on nights her Momma had been carted off in an ambulance. I knew some of the people Merle sold to would end up the same. But I'd already lost my other job. Where else could I go?
I almost drove back to Naomi's dorm several times but I knew she wouldn't forgive me as long as I was with Merle. I knew I weren't welcome round her Momma's house anymore either, she'd made that clear. I wondered if Mia would remember me when she was older.
"Merle's a piece of shit. and if you keep blindly following him, you're gonna end up just like him and just like your -"
She'd been going to say I was just like my dad. She hadn't actually said it. But she'd been about to and we'd both known it. That's what she thought of me.
I hated that she thought it almost as much as I hated her for thinking it.
Most of all, I hated that she was right.
The blood.
The glass.
The fear in her eyes when she looked at me, enough damage done to make my dad proud.
I drifted with Merle to drown out that memory. It kept me numb. It was like Naomi's belief that I was a good person was all that had stopped me from being a piece of shit. Now she'd taken that away and I couldn't be good no matter how hard I tried.
I hated her for it.
I hated her in that deep, burning way that you can only hate someone you once truly loved.