True (8 page)

Then again, sometimes we see what we want to see. We make people better in our heads than they actually are.

I wasn’t sure what was the right thing to do, but I couldn’t lie. “I like hanging out with you, too.”

“Then let’s do that. We can just be friends, or more, or whatever you want. Your call. Just don’t disappear, okay?”

I nodded.

His phone rang and he glanced at it. “Shit, I need to answer this. Sorry.”

“No problem.” I bit my lip and stared out the window as he started the car.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he said into his phone.

Then he sighed at whatever the response was. “Okay, don’t worry, I’ll be there in ten minutes. Just lock yourself in your room with U, okay? Just stay out of her way and you’ll be fine. I’m on my way home right now.”

As I glanced over at him, concerned at the tone of the phone call, he pulled a U-turn at the intersection and started back down the way we’d come. “I need to stop at home for a minute. Do you mind? That was my brother. My mom is freaking out and he’s scared.”

That didn’t sound good, especially given what Jessica had told me about his mother’s drug use. “No, no, of course I don’t mind. How old is your brother?”

“He’s only ten.” The worry radiated off him, as palpable as the smoke that wafted off his cigarettes.

“Oh, God. What is she doing?”

“Who knows?” Tyler fumbled in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. When he drew them out, he propped them against the steering wheel and tried to retrieve one. His hand was shaking.

I took the pack from him. “I’ll get it for you. You just drive.”

“Thanks.”

Pulling one out, I also extracted the lighter that was jammed in the pack. I had never lit a cigarette before, but how hard could it be? Sticking it in my mouth, I flicked the lighter and held it up to the tip. It ignited and smoke clouded my vision. I gave a tentative suck to ensure the flame’s survival, but I kept the air in my mouth before blowing it back out so I didn’t inhale any of it.

When I handed it to Tyler, he was grinning at me. “Sexy.”

“It’s cancer in a stick,” I told him flatly, tucking the lighter back in the pack and dropping it next to the gearshift. The taste in my mouth was disgusting. It was like I’d licked the remains of a campfire.

“Doesn’t make you sucking on it any less hot.”

“Uh-huh.” But I didn’t lecture him. I sensed he needed the distraction, that he was worried about his brother. I couldn’t imagine what his mother was doing—that just wasn’t a part of my experience—but I hoped it wasn’t anything serious.

The neighborhood we were driving to was lower income, blue collar, the houses old, the paint peeling. They were lined up close to each other, with sagging porch roofs and scrubby shrubbery.

“Here it is. Don’t be too jealous.” Tyler pulled into the gravel drive of a white house with flaking black shutters. One was missing altogether and it gave the house the appearance of a woman who had put makeup on one eye and had forgotten to do the other. Lying facedown in the bushes was a statue of the Virgin Mary, her robe muddied. The
5
in the house number was hanging upside down from a rusty nail.

“Do you want me to wait here?” Not because I wanted to sit in the car, but because I wanted to be respectful.

“Nah. It’s cold out here. And maybe if you’re there she’ll behave herself.” He studied my face. “Unless you don’t want to. You don’t have to.”

There it was again—that vulnerability I had seen on his face after the Halloween party. I knew it was legitimate. I wasn’t wrong about that. “No, I’ll go with you.”

When we got out of the car, he threw his cigarette down in the driveway and I saw it wasn’t the only butt there. Hundreds littered the crumbling blacktop, and as we ascended the rotting front porch, I saw an old plastic chair and, on the floor next to it, a large glass ashtray overflowing with butts that had been rained on. It smelled like stale smoke and beer and mud. Mail spilled out of the box attached to the house, and Tyler ignored it as he opened the front door.

We had barely stepped into the narrow vestibule, my feet sinking into filthy beige carpet, eyes adjusting to the dark, when something flew past Tyler’s head and hit the wall with a smack.

Beer exploded all over him, and he pulled me behind him.

“Turn the light on so your aim is better,” he said mildly. “All you did was waste a full beer.”

I knew then that whatever I had been expecting, it was probably going to be much, much worse.

Chapter Eight

The light did come on, and I saw that a woman was lying on the couch in nothing but an oversize T-shirt, her stick-thin legs bent at an awkward angle. Her brown hair was cut in layers, and she had bangs that seemed straight out of an eighties movie. Even in the dim lamp light, I could tell that her skin was broken out and there were dark circles under her eyes. She was glaring at Tyler and as she struggled to sit up, she pointed a finger in his direction.

“I know you stole my shit,” she said. “You need to get the fuck out of this house and never come back.”

“No, I’m not going anywhere until you give Riley guardianship of Jayden and Easton.” The way he spoke as he moved into the living room, bending over to pick up empty beer cans on the way, I figured this was a dialogue they had frequently.

“Fuck you. They’re my kids. What kind of a son tries to take his mother’s kids away from her?”

“One who knows his mother is a drug addict.” With his free hand, he took mine and led me past the couch into the kitchen, making sure that I was on the far side of his mother. There was corded tension in his neck muscles, and he was gripping me tightly. While his words were mild and calm, he seemed aware of everything that was going on around us, and while I was a little scared, mostly I felt sad that this was how he had to live. That every day must be a constant assault of words, and home was never a safe place. His mother didn’t even seem to notice I was with Tyler, and I had to admit, I was grateful. I’d never heard a mother swear at her child like that and it was unnerving.

He dumped the cans in an overflowing trash can in the kitchen and flicked the light on. He turned the hall light on, too, and knocked on the first door. “It’s me, unlock the door.”

Tyler pulled me into the shadows of the hallway, away from the living room. He tried the knob and popped his head in. “What was she doing? Yeah?”

I couldn’t hear the responses, nor could I see into the room. What I did see was Tyler’s mom stumbling toward him, her hand raised.

Without thinking, I let out a cry.

Tyler turned just in time to get clocked. His mother just hauled off and punched him in the face.

“Oh my God!” I blurted out, unable to stop myself. I had never been that close to anyone getting hit before, and I couldn’t comprehend that it was his mother who had done it. His mother. I stood behind him, helpless, patting my pocket for my phone, wondering if I should call the cops.

But Tyler just took the hit and gave a sigh of exasperation. He reached out and took hold of her wrist as she raised her arm to land another blow. “Stop,” he told her, and his tone was gentle, not angry. It was like he was speaking to a spooked animal. “Let’s go sit down.”

She sagged, the fight in her seeming to disappear. She let him lead her back to the couch. “Who are you?” she asked me, her eyes glassy, as she sank into the floral cushions. Her hand felt around on the floor for her beer. She spilled it on the retrieval and sucked the liquid off her arm before taking a long drink.

“I’m Rory.”

“You Tyler’s girlfriend?”

I could feel him tense next to me, but I was determined not to make this harder for him than it already was. He had gestured for his brothers to come out of their bedroom, and two boys, one in his late teens, who clearly had Down syndrome, and another, small and wiry with dark features and curly hair, moved into the kitchen, silently.

I shook my head. “We’re friends.” It was the least complicated description of what we were, since I wasn’t really sure what that was anyway.

“Well, don’t get pregnant,” she told me. “It will fuck up your life. Trust me on this one.”

What was I supposed to say to that? Appalled, I just stared at her, the smell of cat dander and dirty clothes and beer clogging my nostrils. The stench of rotting food radiated from the kitchen, and I saw his brothers were both in the refrigerator foraging for food, like they’d been trapped in their bedroom for a significant amount of time.

Tyler sighed. “Mom, for once, can you just shut the hell up? God.”

She sat up straighter. “You’re the worst one of them all! I got fat when I was pregnant with you, and then your father cheated on me with that whore at the gas station and then every day since then, you’ve been such a pain in my ass.” She gestured to me, sloshing beer out of the can. “I got one kid trying to take my other kids from me, I got this one stealing my drugs, and then I have the retard and the mistake.”

“Don’t call them that,” Tyler said, and his voice was hard, edgy.

“Why not? It’s true. Retard, retard, retard,” she yelled in the direction of the kitchen.

His brother turned, his lips pursed. “Yeah, Mom?”

“Don’t answer to that!” Tyler said, clearly angry. “That is not your name. Your name is Jayden, and you are not a retard.”

“Yes, I am,” Jayden said, sounding confused. He was wearing an Angry Birds T-shirt and he nervously pushed up his wire-frame glasses. In his hand was a moldy hunk of cheese.

“No, you’re not. A retard is someone who is stupid and you are not stupid, do you understand me?” Tyler reached out and took the cheese from him. “Don’t eat that, buddy, okay? I’ll go to the grocery store in a little bit. Easton has some bread and I know there’s still peanut butter. Make yourself a sandwich, alright?”

“Okay, Tyler.” He went over to Easton, who was cramming a handful of dried cereal into his mouth.

Easton had a deer-in-the-headlights look, like he was waiting to get hit, which maybe he was. He also wasn’t Caucasian. He was biracial, and I thought of how it must feel to hear his mother’s words, calling him a mistake. I couldn’t even imagine.

Clearly she didn’t like not being the center of attention. She stood up and walked into the kitchen, running her hand through her ratty hair, her huge shirt dingy and thin enough to show the outline of her panties underneath. “Yep, I have a fabulous life. Husband in jail. Four shitty, asshole sons. How could I get so lucky?” she asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

It was out of my mouth before I could stop it. But the logical option was so obvious to me that I said it before I could prevent it. Besides, she had infuriated me. Who stood there and called her kids assholes? “I don’t think luck is part of the equation. It’s a failure to make good choices.”

Tyler let out a laugh. “True that, babe.” He finished clearing off the tabletop, which had been littered with dirty dishes.

Her eyes narrowed at me, and I realized I should have kept my mouth shut. “You go to college with Tyler? He thinks he’s smart now that he takes classes and obviously you do, too, with your cute little hair and your rich-girl clothes. But if you were smart, you wouldn’t be with a loser like him.”

Tyler’s laughter cut off.

Instantly I knew she had chosen the perfect way to slice him deep.

And I understood why he had made the comments he had, about being my dirty little secret.

This was his life, and he was ashamed of it.

“Don’t call him a loser,” Jayden said, coming to his brother’s defense in a way that made my heart swell. “He’s not a loser. He’s awesome.”

I could see Tyler’s tattoo on his arm, and I fully appreciated what that meant. They had one another, a band of four brothers, living in filth and tension. I knew almost immediately he would never call the cops, either, because then Jayden and Easton would be taken away.

For whatever reason, Jayden’s remark seemed to set their mother off. She swept her arm across the counter, sending glasses and cans and an ashtray flying across the room, dropping to the floor with a series of crashes and bangs. “I hate you all! I hate my life!”

Easton jumped out of the way of an errant can with a dexterity that showed this wasn’t the first time he had leapt for cover.

When Tyler reached for his mother, clearly intending to pull her arms down, she slapped and kicked at him, landing several hard blows. Then suddenly she crumpled against him, and he held her while her anger dissolved into hysterical sobbing.

“It’s okay,” he told her, stroking the back of her hair. “You’re fine.”

Tears welled in my eyes at the sight of him comforting her, his muscular arms holding up the woman who couldn’t hold herself up.

“What would I do without you?” she asked, voice anguished. “You know I don’t hate you. I love you boys, all of you.”

“I know. I know.” He petted her, and led her to the kitchen chair.

She crumpled onto the table, head on her arms, tears streaking down her gaunt face. “Where are my pills?”

“They’re all gone. You took them all.” Tyler pulled out his cigarettes and lit one. He held it up to her mouth. “Take a hit.”

She did, sucking deeply, head still prone on the table. Smoke blew from her thin mouth, her eyes sunken and hopeless. She reached out and hit the button on the radio, and heavy metal music blasted into the room.

There was a knock and a woman entered the kitchen from the back door. “Hey.”

“Aunt Jackie’s here,” Easton announced in the way that little kids have of stating the obvious.

“Get some fucking pants on, we’re going,” Aunt Jackie told Tyler’s mother. She was bundled up in a giant red sweatshirt, and she was wearing jeans that were at least three sizes too small. She had camel toe, and her cigarettes and cell phone were clearly outlined in her front pockets. She was a good hundred pounds heavier than Tyler’s mom, who had stood up and stumbled down the hall.

“Really, Jackie?” Tyler asked in disgust. “You’re not helping.”

“Don’t back talk me, brat,” she told him. She was in her forties, and she had seen some hard living, her skin leathery, hair thinning on top. “Look out for your brothers.”

“I always do,” he told her, taking the butter knife from Easton, who was managing to get more peanut butter on the counter than on his slice of bread. Tyler efficiently spread the peanut butter on the bread, then handed it to his brother, who took an enormous bite.

“Dawn! Let’s go!” Jackie shouted, ignoring Tyler.

His mother came back into the room wearing jeans and a T-shirt, her nipples clearly poking through. She was carrying a ratty flannel shirt. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Put some real shoes on,” Tyler told her.

I glanced down and saw that she was wearing threadbare slippers that might have been pink at one time but were now a faded salmon.

“I’ll be fine.” She kissed him on the cheek, but her eyes were already darting to the door and she had a twitch in her eye and her mouth. Her hand was shaking noticeably.

Then they were gone, door slamming shut behind them, and I noticed that Easton’s shoulders visibly relaxed.

“Well, the good news is she won’t be back until Sunday most likely,” Tyler said, putting a lightheartedness into his tone that I knew he didn’t feel.

“Huzzah!” Jayden said, raising his bread in the air. “Can I turn this music off?”

“Please do.” Tyler pulled the keys out of his pocket. “I’m going to the grocery store. Is there anything you want?”

“Pop Tarts,” Jayden said.

“Milk,” was Easton’s response.

“Jesus,” Tyler muttered under his breath, and I knew that he was thinking exactly what I was thinking—that a ten-year-old shouldn’t have to ask for milk. Louder, he said, “Okay, be back in an hour. Lock the door.”

He stubbed out his cigarette in an overflowing ashtray and pulled the nasty garbage bag out of the can and pulled it tight. Then he gestured for me to follow him out the back door.

I wasn’t sure what to say to him, but he had barely gone two feet when he said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have never brought you here. But when Easton called, I wasn’t sure how bad she was, and I didn’t want to take the time to drive you back. But I should have. I’m sorry.” He was fast-walking down the back steps, and in the dark I couldn’t see his face.

“It’s okay,” I told him, because it was.

“No, it’s not!” Tyler took the bag of garbage and threw it at the rusting metal cans next to the garage. It hit with a loud bang, knocking the can over, the lid spinning and coming to a stop a few feet away. “God! What the fuck was I thinking?” He reached out and kicked the can, twice, his boot making an angry dent. “Here I’ve been trying to impress you and then I bring you here. I’m a fucking idiot. What about my life could possibly impress you?”

His face was agonized, his anger and frustration and humiliation all written there clearly for me to read. I was struggling not to cry, because I knew that he was struggling not to cry tears of anger. I had never seen anything like what had just happened. I knew in theory that mothers could be awful and drug addiction was rampant and people lived in dirty houses, but I had never seen it. Never smelled it. Never heard those kinds of words designed to hurt outside of movies.

I went over to him by the garbage cans and I put my hands on his cheeks, drawing his face toward mine, going up on my tiptoes so I could see into his eyes with more clarity. “Actually, I’ve never been more impressed with you than I am right now.”

He stared down at me, jaw working.

I kissed him. I closed my eyes and guided my mouth up to his, pouring all of my emotions into the touch. I wanted him to understand that I understood, that I thought he was amazing for the way he dealt with his life. That the fact that he still found reasons to grin and laugh were testament to his true nature, that his desire to take care of his brothers spoke volumes about his character. There was no one in
Streetcar
like Tyler. He was trying to make the best of his life.

Even if he had taken money to have sex with me.

Okay, so maybe I couldn’t exactly award him sainthood, but I knew right then and there that if Tyler wanted to keep seeing me, I wanted to keep seeing him because there was more to him than he showed our friends. Which meant that no matter what the motivation, he would not be a bad person to lose my virginity to. I was still curious, I was still seeking those experiences that everyone else was already talking about, and Tyler wasn’t a liar or a cheat or someone who would enjoy having me fall for him so he could then dump me.

Whatever his reasons for saying yes to Jess and Kylie, in a completely insane way, I was grateful.