The Ugly Sister (6 page)

Chapter 14

Captivated

Rio and I don’t have a session but I hit the gym anyway.  In part because Drew is sick and can’t run today, but mainly because I know Rio is working and I want to see him.

When I walk in, he’s nowhere to be found so I figure he must be in the boxing room in back of the gym.  My theory turns out to be true, but I’m surprised to see that he’s with a little boy, an adorable black kid who can’t be more than twelve.  Rio appears to be giving him lessons.             

I watch as Rio holds up flat blue pads and the skinny, serious kid throws punches at them.  At one point, Rio corrects his form and has him do something again, then smiles and says, “good job.”

He looks over at me and nods, and I give a small wave before backing away. I wish I could watch longer, but I don’t want to seem like a creepy weirdo, so I head over to a treadmill.  Twenty minutes later, Rio leads the kid to the front of the gym and hands him off to a woman in a waitress’s uniform who I assume is the boy’s mother.  They talk for a little while, with the kid chiming in excitedly, and then Rio makes his way over to me.

“I didn’t know you give lessons to kids,” I say as he looks over the settings on my treadmill, then bumps up the incline.

“I don’t.  That was Simon.  I do this thing called the big brothers program.  I’m teaching him how to box.”

“That’s very cool of you,” I say.  “What got you into that?”

He shrugs and rests his arm on the side of the treadmill.  “It’s just something I do.”

“How’d you get involved in it?”

“I don’t know, why?  You writing a book?”

I repeat in a mocking way, “I don’t know, why?  You writing a book.”  I huff out a sigh.  “No, I just want to know about your life.  I find you captivating, is that a crime?”

“Captivating huh?  I don’t think anyone’s ever found me captivating before.”

“Well don’t get a big head about it.  A lot of things are captivating,” I pant.  “This morning I had a very captivating cup of coffee.  And as I read the nutritional information on the back of the cereal box, I found that pretty captivating too.”  He cranks up the pace but I’m already out of breath, so I turn it back down so I can keep up with our conversation.

“Tell you what,” he says.  “Since you’re so nosy, pull yourself up on that bar”—he points his chin at the pull-up bar beside us—“and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“If I can do a pull up, you have to go out for a drink with me
and
tell me anything I want to know.”

He crosses his arms and seems to think it over.  “Deal.”

Rio and I stand beneath the pull up bar and stare up at it.  This is something he’s been pushing me try forever, but I’ve always refused because I know I can’t do it.  Plus it brings back traumatic memories of a particularly humiliating physical fitness test I failed in grade school. 

I remember dangling from the pull up bar with my chubby stomach popping out the bottom of my hot pink sweatshirt, futilely straining to pull my body up while my bored-looking gym teacher chomped her gum and kept time on a stop watch.  Just then, Justin Bigos came running by and pantsed me in front of the whole gym class, including the kid I liked. The only saving grace was that my underwear remained in place, but the chorus of laughter echoing through the gymnasium has haunted my nightmares ever since.

“Come on December, you only have to do one,” Rio says.

“One, one million—it’s all the same.  I’m telling you, I’m just not ready yet,” I get up on the step and reach for the metal bar. “I don’t know why I agreed to this.”

“Just give it a try, you might surprise yourself.”

I hold on tight, tuck my legs up and pull.  I pull as hard as I can and the strangest thing happens—I feel myself ascending through the air. 
Holy shit
, I think as my chin reaches the bar.

“Keep going! Keep going!” Rio yells, clapping his hands. “Do it again!”

I lower myself and try for a second pull up.  This time it’s much harder and my arms are shaking, but I slowly manage to bring my chin up past the bar one more time. Then my arms give out and I let go, crashing right into Rio.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I just did that!” I yell as he puts his hands around my waist to steady me.  “I did not just one, but
two
—
two
pull ups.”

He puts his arm around my shoulder and squeezes me against him. “What did I tell you, huh? It’s all the weights you’ve been lifting.  It’s given you upper body strength.  These arms don’t just look good.  They’re functional too.”

I babble on excitedly about my pull up, even telling him about Justin Bigos pantsing me in gym class and how it made my two pull ups an even bigger personal victory.  Rio keeps his arm around me as I talk, but not in a flirty way.  It’s as if he doesn’t even notice it’s there. 

“Now,” I say as I lean into him. “Where are we going for that drink?  I’ve got a few questions for you.”

Chapter 15

“Justice”

Around the corner from the gym is a little Mexican restaurant that doesn’t look like much, but they have a spacious outdoor patio and their loaded nachos are out of the world, though given my new lifestyle, I’ll probably never taste them again.

I order a margarita and Rio gets a club soda, which annoys me.  We were supposed to go out for a drink and club soda shouldn’t count, but I let it slide.

Brian and I used to come here all the time so when Rio suggested it, my first instinct was to think of an excuse to go somewhere else.  But having grown up in this town, there aren’t many places that Brian and I haven’t gone to together, and I can’t avoid them forever. I need to start taking my life back and making new memories on top of the old ones.

Rio and I are sitting on the patio at the same corner table that Brian and I have shared many times, and I find myself wishing that Brian and his new girlfriend would walk in and see me looking hotter and thinner with a ridiculously gorgeous new man on my arm.  At first they’ll wonder what happen to the first hot guy they saw me with, then they’ll conclude he was probably just a boy toy.  A rebound guy who ushered me into my new life as eligible bachelorette, a woman about town, the female equivalent of a ladies man.  Then I realize that because of double standards, the female equivalent of a ladies man is a whore, which makes me angry at society.

“What are you thinking about?” Rio asks, leaning back and resting an arm over the back of his char.

“Society.”

He gives me a questioning look but I just shake my head.  A crisp autumn breeze blows by and we both rush to catch our paper napkins before they blow away.  Then we turn and watch a couple pass by on the sidewalk alongside us.  We sit sipping our drinks in conformable silence, and I touch my finger to the salted rim of the margarita glass and lick it.

I look across the table at Rio, admiring his profile and the way his wind-tousled hair makes him look like he just got out of bed.  And at that moment, I wish I could tell him my entire life story and make him understand. But I don’t know how, so instead I ask, “How come you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“How do you know I don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Do you?”

He shrugs a shoulder.  “No one serious.”

“So you have an un-serious girlfriend?”

“There are a few friends I see, no strings attached.”

Ah, friends with benefits—and more than one.
  It would be ridiculous to think a guy like Rio would go through life celibate, yet the idea of him having multiple fuck buddies makes my heart sink.

I sip my drink casually. “How many lady friends do you have?”

“Three.”

“Three?”  I set my glass down harder than I meant to, and it thumps loudly on the table.  “That’s just gross.”

He looks surprised, then understanding seems to dawn.  “You’re very innocent, December.  It’s a beautiful thing—don’t ever lose it.”  He slurps the last of his club soda, then sets the glass down and stands up to go.

“Wait, you’re leaving already?” I ask.

“You said just one drink.”

“Yeah but…it’s only been like five minutes.”  My words sound desperate to my own ears, and I realize I don’t like the way I’m acting, like a clingy, needy loser.  “Ugh, fine.  Just go.  I’m tired of you anyway.”  I turn away from him and pick up my drink.  I expect him to leave, but a moment later I hear the scrape of his chair against the floor as he sits back down.

“Don’t feel obligated to stay,” I tell him, still staring at the treeline ahead.  “I was captivated by you for like a minute, but I’m over it.  I won’t bother you for anything other than workout advice from now on.  Thank you for making your feelings brutally clear.”

A few minutes go by in silence, then he says, “You asked me why I volunteered to be a big brother.”  I don’t respond, just keep staring out at the pink and purple sky above the treetops.

“I grew up in foster homes,” he says. “I had a foster brother.  This guy Darius.  He took me under his wing and helped me out when I was completely alone. I was a little older when I was put into the foster care system, and I got shipped from home to home, school to school, family to family.  I was angry and messed up, but Darius kept in touch with me and taught me how to box.  And it saved my life. No matter what was going on or how pissed off I was, I finally had an outlet, you know?  Sometimes it was the only thing that kept me going.  So I try to honor him by doing what he did for me for someone else, other kids who need someone to look out for them.”

“Your foster brother must be proud,” I say.

“Unfortunately he passed away a few years ago.  He was in a rough neighborhood, visiting a girl.  He went out to his car to get something and the police were passing by. They thought he was breaking into the car, and when he saw them and reached for his registration, they thought he was going for a gun and they shot him.  Eleven rounds.  Didn’t even get suspended.  They were back on duty the next day without so much as reprimand.”

I turn to look at him, but he’s staring out at the trees stonefaced.  I put my hand on my heart and say, “That’s the worst thing I ever heard.  I’m so sorry.”

“The ironic part is, the officers who shot him thought he was a criminal because he was a big black guy.  In reality, Darius never touched a drug or a weapon in his life.  He was an honor student and a gifted athlete who’d just gotten a scholarship to go to college. He wanted to be a lawyer, and he would have been a great one too.  Man, could he talk.  He was the kind of guy people just gravitated to, you know?”

I wait for him to continue, but he just stares into space, lost in thought. 

I want to know more.  How Rio ended up in the foster care system in the first place, and what he was so angry about. But after everything he just told me, I’m afraid to ask because I know the answer is going to be awful.

“Darius’ last name was Justice.  Another irony considering the way he died.  But that’s why I took it as my boxing handle, so he could live on in a way.”  Rio opens his palms and stares down at his empty hands.  “It’s not much, but it seemed like the one thing I could do for him. Well, that and teach kids the way taught me, kids like Simon who face more struggles than most.”

I reach out and put my hand in one of his.  He catches me by surprise by taking it, then he looks up and meets my gaze.

“You know, I’m proud of you, December.  Most people give up after a few sessions, so seeing how far you’ve come is really rewarding. Thanks for letting me be part of your journey.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, enjoying the feel of his big warm hand in mine. And at that moment, I realize I want so much more from Rio.  I’m not even sure what, only that it’s enormous, all-encompassing and completely inescapable.  “Rio, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“I understand that you don’t want to be anything more than workout partners—I get that.  But I just want to know why.  Is it because I’m still not thin enough, or is it my personality?  I know I’m not a very sexy person.  I’ve been trying to be seductive but obviously it’s not working.  You’re a guy, what can I do to—”

“Shhh,” he says with a smile.  “There’s nothing wrong with you, absolutely nothing. You’re a beautiful girl with a good heart.”

“Then why don’t you want me?”

“Because I don’t want to ruin you,” he says.  “I’m not a good guy, Ember.  Don’t waste your time on me.  I’m bad news.  I’ll only fuck up your life and leave you with a whole world of hurt.”

I tilt my head in confusion, but he gets up for real this time.  “Thanks for the drink,” he says, taking a step backwards.  “And I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”  He snaps his fingers and points at me.  “Don’t be late.”

Chapter 16

Breathless

“Just have a fling,” Drew says.  We’re running through the park and we’ve just reached the final part of the trail that winds through scrub oak and blueberry bushes.  “I mean, you’re twenty one, you’ve only been with one guy and it was a really long relationship.  You don’t want to jump into something serious this fast do you?”

“I would be completely… satisfied with a fling…but I don’t think Rio wants one…I told you…he keeps shutting down…all my attempts at seduction.”  Drew is a much better runner than me, and it’s all I can do to keep up with him, much less carry on a conversation and still breathe.

“That seems strange to me,” he says.  “You must not be trying hard enough.  The guy obviously likes women.”—I’d told Drew about all Rio’s fuck buddies—“What are you doing to seduce him?”

“I don’t know…pushing my boobs out and stuff… he knows I’m a sure thing…just from what I’ve said.”

“Then you should find someone else who’s
interested.  You look great Ember.  And you’re every guy’s dream come true—a gorgeous girl who’s spent her whole life overweight so she developed an awesome personality and stayed completely down to earth.  You’re not going to have to look very far to find someone who would give his left nut to...”

“To what?” I grin and shoot him a look, feeling giddy that he just called me gorgeous and awesome.

“To help you get your groove back, baby.” He elbows me as we run past the lake.  Our feet crunch over fallen leaves as we forge ahead.  This is the hardest stretch because there’s a steep incline, but once the ground levels out, it means we’ve completed two and a half miles.

I love running with Drew.  He’s become like a gay male friend to me.  Because he’s totally off limits, I can be completely myself around him without having to worry about what he thinks, and he gives me excellent insight into the male mind. 

Drew has seen me at my lowest and he knows just how hard I’ve been pushing myself these past few months.  He’s never been anything but patient and supportive, cheering me on every step of the way.  Even pretending I wasn’t slowing him down when we first started running together, which I totally was.

“I’m not sure…what I’m going to do yet…but I’m not finished with Rio…not by a long shot…Even if he doesn’t want…to get up in this…I’m at least… going to have some fun with him.”

“Hey, speaking of getting up in that, are you hanging out with April again tonight?  Wait, that came out weird. “

I laugh, but in the back of my mind, I try to figure out what he’s talking about.  “Why?” I ask.

“You guys hung out the last two nights so I was hoping to see my girlfriend tonight, if you know what I’m saying.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I say noncommittally.

As we run, my mind is churning a hundred miles an hour.  The truth is, I haven’t hung out with April the past two nights, but I have a pretty good idea what she’s been up to.

There’s something I haven’t mentioned about my sister yet, and even now, it hurts me to say it because it doesn’t reflect well on her, and I don’t want anyone to hold it against her because April has so many other incredible qualities. 

But here it is, the honest to God truth about my sister: April has cheated on every boyfriend she’s ever had.  So I think it’s safe to assume that she’s now doing the same to Drew. 

See, April’s relationships generally last three to seven months.  There’s never a break between them, and she has yet to reach the one year mark with anyone.  When she gets tired of one guy or wants to break it off for whatever reason, she immediately finds another guy to replace the last one.  Sometimes the two relationships even overlap, and by “sometimes”, I mean every relationship she’s ever been in. 

Even the one guy who’s ever dumped her, leading to the meltdown that led her not to be my maid of honor.  That was brought about when he looked at her phone and found fifty million texts and emails from some other dude. 

My sister can’t help herself—she’s a free spirit.  It’s just who she is.  Back in high school, I remember our dad desperately trying to talk her out of going to art school, but she wouldn’t be deterred.  It was her dream, she pleaded tearfully over and over again until he finally relented.  He hated the idea of spending money on such an impractical degree, but she was so earnest, so sure of what she wanted.

Then halfway through her freshman year, she dropped out of college and ran off to Europe to live in youth hostels.  While there, she got engaged to a French guy she’d been dating for all of two weeks.  She even invited dad and I to the wedding, but before anything was planned, she broke it off to fly back home because she was homesick.

When she got here, she flitted from job to job, and for the time being, she takes people’s portraits at a photography studio.  She’s extremely talented and just got a huge raise and a promotion, which means she’ll probably tire of it soon and move on to something else.  And when she does, she’ll land on her feet and find something new that she’s just as good at.

Things just have a way of working out for her like that. And the whole time she’s flitting from guy to guy, job to job, home to home, she leaves a bloody swath of broken hearts in her wake.  I know because I’ve spent many nights on our shared home phone consoling these poor, miserable saps when she dumps them and runs off with the next in line to catch her interest. 

I decided long ago not to get attached to anyone in her life.  But then Drew came along, and I made an exception.  He’s someone special, and I truly hoped April was finally growing up and settling down, and that all her declarations of love for Drew actually meant something.

I feel an ache in my chest, and I’m not sure if it’s from running, or if I’m just really, really sad for Drew.  I stop on the trail and see him slow down, then stop and run in place ahead of me.  “Come on, Ember.  We’re almost there.  Finish strong.”

I hold up a hand to indicate that I need to stop for a minute, then lean over to catch my breath, wrapping an arm over my stomach and staring down at my sneakers.

Drew saunters back to me and holds out his water bottle. “Here.”

“That’s okay…I still have some,” I say.

“You alright?  You look like something’s wrong.”

“I’m fine…Just a little pain in my heart, that’s all.”

,