Chapter 22

Animal

I followed Nix home after dropping T off at her street corner, I turned around and left. I wanted to see her in person. Where I wasn’t pretending not to know her.

When I came back to the corner, Helena and Debra, the hookers, pointed me in the right direction.

T was in the back corner of a dive bar where pimps and hookers met up to talk business.

She was sipping on a water bottle. I nodded when I saw her then, and she bent her head in acknowledgement. I made sure to look around and assess the situation. I had to make it clear to every man in the room that I was not to be messed with. I managed to do it with a smile.

A few of the hookers tried their luck with winks and come-ons. I didn’t have to pay for sex, but I was polite to them.

“Can I sit here?” I pointed at the chair across from T.

“The seat across from me always belongs to you.” T set her water bottle down.

“Really?” I ran my hand through my hair as I sat. “I thought maybe I’d never sit in my spot again.”

I put my sunglasses on my head.

She returned my gaze briefly and then it darted all over the room.

“Care to tell me what happened? Every night before I closed my eyes, I wondered if you were dead. Until Merck showed me a picture of you checking on your mom.” I rapped my knuckles on the scarred wood.

She picked up her water bottle and took another sip.

“You get addicted to something, T?”

I watched her body then for tells. Because lies could be tucked in words, but not in reflexes.

No tremor. No flinch.

“I’m not addicted to anything.”

I watched her swallow. She was obviously uncomfortable. I was making her that way. I reconsidered my approach. I was handling her like an enemy.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you of that. You’ve been to your mom’s? How’s she?” I rubbed at my lips. I knew she was having some issues. It was medication based and there wasn’t anything I could do. I was still watching out for her.

She shrugged off my apology. “She’s not well. Part of the reason I’m home.”

“Anything I can do to help?” This should have been my opening question when I first saw her.

“No. Thanks, though. It’s…good to see you.”

The shyness peeked out. I recognized it. When we were kids, if I kept testing her, I’d eventually get a smile and even a laugh out of her. That’s when I knew I was truly funny, when she forgot to be demure and would snort laugh at something I said.

“Same here. You look beautiful. Badass. But super pretty. You glowed up.” I tried my grin out on her.

She blushed and I thought I saw a glimmer of happiness.

“You packed on some muscle and height. That all happened how quickly after eighth grade?” She closed one eye while she looked at me.

I sat up straighter and flexed my biceps. She laughed.

“It took a while. The height came before junior year. Sister Mary was complaining all the time about how she could barely get the tags off my jeans before I needed a new pair.” I drummed my fingertips on the table.

When we had eye contact again, I saw her brown ones sparkle with delight.

“I was like a long string bean. But then soon after—the muscles.” I worked out now to maintain, but Nix always complained how few reps I needed to stay ripped.

“How’s Merck?” She rubbed her hands on the table like it might be a Ouija board.

“He’s good. Shot up the ladder at work.” I bobbed my head.

“Did it work out with you? Ever?” She flipped her hair so I could see her whole face. My favorite version of T. The betrayal was layered just under our pleasant conversation. Heartbreak. Bitterness, maybe. But still, her face and voice took me back to a purer time.

“Like adoption wise? Nah. It was too complicated for him and eventually for me. He’d drop by two or three times a week to take me out of the home, though. Made sure I went to baseball games and concerts and stuff.” I touched my phone thinking about sending the old man a text.

There was silence then. The past crowding out the common conversation.

“I never stopped looking for you.” My voice cracked with the emotion of it. I stopped talking and looked to my left. The hookers and pimps were minding their business, but all at once I wanted T and me out of there. I wanted us both to feel too important to stay in this environment.

She started and stopped her sentence a few times before squinting at me. “This is not the conversation I expected to have today.”

“Me either.” I didn’t let her off the hook, though. “But still.”