Chapter Thirty-Four

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I would like to thank @xoxsophxox for this lovely edit of Ivory and Lee. Again, you’ll reach me better on twitter! and i love these kinds of edits. (username: indiecigars)

Chapter Thirty-Four

“And if you see Mark, kick him out of the house. Kick Lesley out, too,” Brent says to me. He adjusts his carry-on backpack on his shoulder. “And no boys over. I don’t care if they own the world or own shit; no boys. You hear me?”

            I roll my eyes. “It’s Lee, Brent. And yes, you’ve made it clear I am not to come in contact with any males for the rest of my life.”

            “Good.” He pulls me into a hug—well, his version of a hug. To me, it’s him choking me with his strong arm around my neck and my face pressed to his chest. He pats my back hardly and it doesn’t help me breathe any easier. “Be careful, Ivory, okay? And if you need anything, call me. I’m only, like, ten states away.”

            I push against his chest, gasping for air. “Only ten, of course. And I’ll miss you, too, ugly.” He releases me and I back up. “Jeez, you need to ease it on the headlock hugs.” I rub my neck that starts to prickle with pain.

            He grins and then he turns to my right where Candy is standing. This is the calmest I’ve ever seen her. When I returned, I almost mistaked Candy for a lamb because she was so quiet and just…unlike herself. You’d think she’d be ecstatic but she was the opposite. It’s like Brent had told her that her grandma died or something. Brent had been talking to her and she had been softly smiling. I still haven’t grilled on her yet on what’s happened.

            “Uh, Candy,” Brent starts saying, scratching his head, “I guess—”

            She doesn’t wait for him to finish his sentence. She lunges into his arms and hugs him fiercely, her arms wrapped around his neck. Brent freezes for a second before slipping his hands around her waist and buries his head in her shoulder.

            I know I should feel strange or weirded out. I mean, this is my brother and my best friend and that’s basically illegal but I don’t find it peculiar at all. In fact, I almost wish they had gotten together faster. I’m not sure if Brent really is changing his stupid ways but I hope he treats Candy right. She deserves the best. They both do.

            “Take care, Brent,” she says when she pulls away. Her frown is long and depressing. “I guess I won’t see you until August because of your stupid summer school program.”

            “Wait, what?” I ask. When did this happen?

            Brent turns to me, grinning sheepishly. “Yeah, about that…”

            “You’re not coming home this summer?”

            “Just not till August,” he answers. “I have to make up some classes and do some extra work for credits. And there’s this cool summer football program that Mom wanted me to get into and I finally got in! She'd be—" His smile fades momentarily before picking up, realizing how the conversation was taking a turn. "But I’ll be back for graduation definitely.”

            I frown. “Okay, but I wish you could come back earlier.”

                    Candy chimes in, “You better come back in one piece for graduation then.”

            Brent grins at her and I squint my eyes watching them. It’s too dazzling. I feel like I’m standing in front of the sun with their mushy lovey-dovey smiles at each other. Is this how everyone else feels when I’m with Lee?

            “Flight B30 is leaving in two minutes, I repeat flight B30 is leaving soon,” a voice over the intercom announces, cueing my brother’s departure.

            He sighs one last time and grabs his suitcase. “Bye, ladies.” Brent smiles at us and then turns, walking towards the security again. But then he changes his mind last minute and turns back, walking towards us. Okay, let me correct myself. Brent comes back, walking to Candy. He swoops her up and kisses her on the lips before breaking away. “Just returning the favor,” he says before jogging away.

            Candy stands there motionless for several moments, watching my sneaky brother jog away. I watch her, not even sure if she’s breathing or not. I’m not even sure I’m breathing or not. Brent doesn’t do romance and airport kisses. Guess a lot has changed.

            “So…,” I say. “You and Brent, huh?”

            She slowly turns to me and her mouth trembles, searching for words or something to say to define what just happened. When she finds nothing, we start walking back to my car. It’s quiet until we’re buckling in our seatbelts and then it’s like a bomb goes off because then Candy doesn't stop talking. I take it all in as I drive back to school. Candy insisted and I kind of miss school somehow. You hate it until you have nothing else to do. Going home is a bad idea since I’ll end up moping around alone. Besides, listening to her excitement is way better.

            I have never seen Candace Anne Wilson so animated in my life.

            And trust me, I’ve seen her lively many times.

            It’s amusing to watch her talk and talk, hands in the air, not even stopping for air. It makes me fascinated with the idea of love. How one day someone can wake up feeling just normal and the next—boom—suddenly they have a source of happiness and is basically giving their significant other their whole heart. And the other person either has the choice to crush or cherish it, both a devastating change in the person’s life. It makes me wonder how humans do it. How do they risk so much happiness and so much pain for the idea of having someone to hold onto at night and someone to wake up to? I realize love is one of the many things that make people feel alive. Sometimes people are alive but they’re not living, and love is one of the many essentials needed to be living and not just breathing air in and out.

            When the hell did I get so deep? I ask myself as we sneak back into school.

            In school, I throw myself in work. I collect homework I’ve missed and pay attention like my life depends on it. Exams start Wednesday and today is Monday. Three exams a day, and then prom Friday. And for us seniors, graduation day on Sunday. I almost consider throwing myself in front of a freight train. Everything is happening at once.

            But something drives me. Maybe it’s the need for things to keep me occupied from my thoughts or maybe I feel like if I do good on my exams and don’t cut class anymore, the heavens will see how hard I’m trying and give my mom the benefit of the doubt and let her wake up. Well, that’s how I wish it would work.

            Even at lunch, I sit away from friends that will distract me and try to catch up in the work I’ve missed in class. I don’t want to fall behind anymore.

            At the end of the day, I drive home and park the car in the driveway. It’s almost six now. I stayed after school to ask teachers questions and to talk to my guidance counselor about my college plans. I had sent admission letters earlier in the year to New York University and Syracuse University and others near or in the city. I never planned going far.  

            I open the front door and just stand there for a second.

            Not a sound comes out of the house and it’s eerily dark with the sun setting and all. The loneliness hits me harder than I expected. Is this how it’ll feel like in college or for the rest of the time Mom’s not awake?

            I lug my backpack with me as I walk in, shutting and locking the door closed. And then I just stand there. What do I do now?

            First, I clean up the mess Brent left behind. Everything from the party, everything from his “den” and just everything in general. Every time I stop, depressing thoughts enter my head and then I just tell myself to shut up before I grab a mop or something and clean the hell out of the house.

            I guess I didn’t realize but when I found myself with my mother in a coma, I didn’t realize how important it was to have people with me. I had Mark, Lee, Brent, Madam Jin, and more. And now that they all have to continue with their own lives, it’s a major change in mine. I can’t help but think what it would feel like if my father were around. Would I be less lonely? Would we help each other? I love my friends and Lee but sometimes I just need family.

            The house is spotless and I take a seat in the kitchen and do homework. It’s around eleven when I finish and I get an email back from my guidance counselor. She says that colleges will probably understand my situation and let me start second semester thanks to my previous good grades. I breathe a sigh of relief. I have to keep moving forward with my life.

        There’s a knock on my door and I get excited because maybe it’s Lee?

        But it couldn’t be. It’s his father’s anniversary and he’s probably mourning it with his mother and whoever else he has.

        I open the door. “Jesus Christ!”

        “Hi!” Lee shouts. The taxi cab behind him drives away. Since when did he take taxis?

        Lee looks muddy and has grass plastered all over him. There are twigs cutting into his suit, making holes in his expensive suit indefinitely. There’s a cut on his chin, matching the other ones he got from god knows what. And he is falling.

        I catch him, holding him by his waist before he falls. “What the hell, Lee?”

        “Ivory! Whoops,” he slurs, trying to stand but only ends up falling into me again. “I missed you!” He kisses my cheeks, holding my face in his hands. “Bonjour!”

        “Cut it out!” I say, kicking his knee. He groans in pain but starts laughing.

        “I fell into your bushes,” he says, tripping as he hops on one foot. He holds his injured knee and nudges to the overgrown bushes by the house. “Hope that’s okie-dokie with you!”

        He’s drunk. He’s crazy. He’s here.

        “Why are you here? Do you have any idea what time it is?” I ask, crossing my arms. Crickets chirp in the background and I see my neighbor’s lights turn on. I do not want to involve them or the police for being a public disturbance so I yank Lee inside and shut the door. I escort him to the living room and he falls into the couch.

        “I just wanted to see you,” he mumbles, his head pressed against the arm of the sofa.

        I narrow my eyes. Something’s definitely wrong. “Stay here,” I command. “I’m going to get some bandages, okay?” I pick up a random towel from the closet in the hall and throw it to him. “Stay still and just wipe off the mud and grass.”

        “Aye-aye, captain!”

        A million thoughts enter through my head as I run upstairs to the bathroom. I rummage through our medicine cabinet and grab a couple of bandaids. Why is he here? Why is he drunk? Why isn’t he with his family or sleeping or working or whatever the hell he does usually? I thought his father meant a lot to him. Lee wouldn’t just go get drunk on such an important occasion.

        I race back downstairs and Lee has the entire towel on his head and it looks like he’s laughing. He must’ve drank a lot to get himself drunk. I know he’s a good drinker. But this whole laughing-crazy-weird thing has gotta stop.

        I walk around the sofa and take a seat next to him, “Lee, you’re freaking me out—”

        He isn’t laughing. He isn’t even smiling. Lee Richardson is crying.

        His shoulders shake as silent sobs escape him. His head is engulfed inside a towel, trying to hide the tears but I can still see him. Lee’s hands shake in his lap as he cries and snot runs down his face. He’s hurting. That’s why he’s here.

        “Lee,” I whisper. Just the sight of him looking so sad has knocked the wind out of me.

        He stretches his hand and tugs me closer until his face is in the crook of my neck. Lee bends down and cries into my shoulder, wrapping both hands around me tighter than ever before. He sounds angry and frustrated and sad. He’s just a little boy who lost his father. That’s all he’s ever been. It’s a deja vu of his birthday celebration.

        “Ivory, he’s gone,” Lee says. His voice is so gentle and sounds so fragile I’m afraid to hug him back. But I do. I bring a hand up to his hair and pat it while rubbing his back in circles. “He’s dead. He’s actually dead.”

        “Shh,” I say, hugging him tighter. The sound of his sobs is like taking a knife, peeling off a layer of my heart, and dismantling it slowly until there’s nothing left. I think I feel my chest burning.

        “I was with my mother,” he says, his voice shaking. “And she threw a party for my Dad today. A fucking party! Can you believe it? She got everyone she knew and crammed them into our Manhattan penthouse and drank champagne and talked and laughed like it was a damn celebration! My father is rotting in the ground and here she is, worrying more about partying!”

        I rub his back. “Everyone has different ways of coping,” I say, hoping he doesn’t get angry that it sounds like I’m taking her side. My mother herself coped by shutting herself down for a couple days. It was the scariest thing ever to me. Imagine your mother breaking down and you having to do everything. The person taking care of you being the one that needs to be taken care of. Thank god, my mom only lasted a few days like that before changing into this kick-ass side of her that I miss and love.

        “Yeah, well, she sure doesn’t show it!” Lee says. He sniffs and I feel more tears trickle down my neck. “It’s like she never even cared…Well, I couldn’t stand around her bullshit. I just remember drinking and drinking and her telling me to stop. To make sure the guests weren’t uncomfortable with my drinking. Can you imagine? She’s worried about the guests feeling uncomfortable! The guests! My father died!

        “I couldn’t deal with her. I left, caused a commotion. I don’t care anymore. I hopped in a taxi and they drove me around and I have nowhere else to go…but here.”

        I clasp both my hands and hug him, snuggling my face into his shoulder. “You always have here, Lee. Always.”    

        His sobs turn into silent shakes and slowly into nothing. His breathing returns to normal and I think he’s asleep until I hear him say, “My father was a good man.”

            “I’m sure he was,” I say. If he raised Lee into who he is, he must’ve been. It sucks I'll never meet him or that Lee will never meet mine.

            Lee’s voice is soft as if talking about a glass ballerina. His breath tickles my shoulder and neck. “I used to hate him so much. Always pushing me into business. Always turning me into someone I’m not. He didn’t like my music or the fact I wouldn’t give up on it. And I hated him for it. Because fathers are supposed to say, “I believe in you, son. Go for it!” He never said those words to me. He never believed in me.

                    “But he loved me. He wasn’t an open guy. He didn’t hug me or verbally tell me he loved me. But, I could see it in the way he would have my broken guitar strings fixed without telling me. Or the way he would leave me something I wanted and then deny it was him. He paid for my college. He shaped me into a better man than I deserve to be.”

            “And you loved him,” I remind him. “Don’t forget that either.”

            He lets out a sigh that turns into a shaky silent cry. “I just wish I could’ve told him that before he passed. I just wish I could’ve told him things. To thank him.”

            “I know,” I say and his whole body sags heavier, as if it’s a burden off his chest.

            “Thank you,” he says to me. “For being here.”

            I bite my lip. The guilt is back. Lee is here in my arms, pouring his feelings and secrets and thoughts out and I still haven’t told him that Penny is freaking pregnant. If I don’t tell him sooner, it’ll eat me alive. It’s now or never.

            “Lee,” I say, my voice slow and soft. I need to make this blow soft as possible. Maybe I should just wait tomorrow when he’s recovered from his father’s anniversary. But then I scold myself. I can’t just give myself excuses. There are a million reasons I can make up not to tell him, but there is only one reason that I should. He trusts me.

            “Hmm?” He sounds sleepy.

            I don’t know if I can do this.

            Lee moves around after hearing the change in my tone. He backs away and stares at my face. He’s so fucking beautiful when he’s raw of emotion. His eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks are red and blotched and his hair is messed up and he smells of alcohol but he’s never been more perfect. He’s opened up to me. He’s let me in. And it’s amazing.

            What I’m about to say will destroy everything. I just know it.

            Better that than lie to him.

            “I have to tell you something. I have to tell you the truth.”

ok i know i haven't updated in three weeks but ta-da! happy early christmas! this is all you're getting from me until then... just kidding! haha, i suck at jokes. but honestly thank you for the endless support despite my small break. ever since school has started it's been WORK WORK WORK and SWEAT SWEAT SWEAT and CRY CRY CRY!!! :-)

it's great honestly (yay!) but no rlly, it sucks and i can't wait for summer already - so much has happened and i have a lot to tell u but maybe next time when it's not hours past my bed time on a sunday. i love and miss u all xoxo ♥

COMMENT SO I KEEP GETTING MANY NOTIFICATIONS AND THEN IT'LL SPARK MY MOTIVATION (plus ur comments always make me snort cheese out of my nose)

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