Resolutions
Generally, when we need or want a new course, we set resolutions to reach goals. We decide what we want and begin the action necessary to attain our desires. What we do not account for is the speed bumps along the way. It is easy to want. It is the doing we so often seem to fail at. Perhaps it is because we do not always seek a new course for the right reasons, and we try to force change. Or maybe we merely lack commitment. Either way, we start out with the best of intentions.
BREEZE
NEW YEAR’S EVE was a wild affair at the clubhouse. Kids ran all over, shooting confetti out of party poppers. Dusty took Langston and a group of his friends outside to light off bottle rockets, which were highly illegal in Mass, not that The Bastards ever cared about the law. It made me think if the clubhouse was the best environment for kids. Probably not, but then what did I know.
I pushed through the crowd to meet Lance outside. “It’s crazy in there,” I said, laughing when I finally made it out of the house. “Dozer is standing on the couch, shirtless and singing Michael Jackson songs, so wrong.”
“Well, it’s cold, but it’s a beautiful night. We could light a fire and spend the night in the back yard,” Lance offered.
“Already done. A few guys are out there now, but we can still hang out here if you want.”
“Okay.”
We sat on the rock wall, looking at the stars in the crisp night air.
“The sky is always so clear when it’s cold,” I remarked.
“Yeah,” Lance agreed.
I smashed my boot into the slush at the base of the wall, making prints with the pattern of the sole. Ever since Christmas, I wasn’t sure how to act around Lance. I wanted to be with him though. It took me a week to accept there wasn’t a future for Shame and I. Aside from the age difference, Shame pushed me away to college, even suggesting schools on the west coast. He had hardly spoken a word to me since Christmas. I could take a hint. Besides, it was time to make a New Year’s Resolution and focus on things I could control, like my growing relationship with Lance.
“Are we okay?” Lance asked quietly.
I nodded and smiled. “Yeah.”
“Good, because I’ve been dying to do something.”
I knew what he meant before he even dipped his head. His lips were slightly cold, but the inside of his mouth was incredibly warm. When our tongues connected, a small explosion erupted under my skin like tiny sparks. An instant later, our bodies were flush, and I pushed my palms into his back, trying to draw him even closer to me.
I missed my dad. I missed Pocket. I missed feeling loved unconditionally. While Shame and Viv were both around, they weren’t here for me like Lance. He had become my new constant, and I was scared I would lose him too if I didn’t keep him in that moment.
“Come with me,” I spoke against his mouth, grabbing his hand. We snuck up the side stairs to the house.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Lance asked when we reached the door.
“It’s fine. No one saw us come up and Shame’s busy with Sabina somewhere.”
We went straight to my room and kept the light off, so it didn’t shine into the backyard. The moment we sat on my bed our lips reconnected. Lance pressed me to the bed and covered me with his body. I loved how it felt to be beneath him and kiss him and feel his hands on me. It was when one of those hands slid up my inner thigh over my jeans, I briefly stopped kissing him back. Lance didn’t seem to notice, but it changed things for me. Changed because all I could think about from that split second on was Shame.
Lance didn’t kiss with the same unbridled hunger Shame had once kissed me with. His kiss was sweet, gentle and more importantly, not forbidden. Lance was more than a consuming schoolgirl crush. At least, I thought. He was my boyfriend and because I didn’t want to lose him, I allowed his hand to continue under my bra. Then I gasped because his hand felt like ice. He laughed, but I frowned.
The moment was confirmation for me. There was only one person I wanted my first time to be with and it wasn’t Lance. I didn’t want to lose him, but I couldn’t go all the way with him either. If only in my mind, I had been claimed by Shame. Lance lifted his head, and I palmed his cheek with my right hand.
“Maybe we should slow down.”
As I made out the disappointment in his expression, the light flipped on. Apparently we never closed the door. My back was to the door but I didn’t have to turn around to know who stood there. Lance flew off the bed, Shame lifting him by his shirt and shoving him to the door. “Get the hell outta here and don’t come back,” Shame commanded.
“Shame, dude, listen to me,” Lance protested.
Shame jerked Lance close by his shirt and looked right in his eyes. “Don’t ever call me dude.”
“Okay, look, I’m sorry, but it’s not what it looks like.”
“Really?” Shame released Lance’s shirt, shoving him back a little. “Because it looked like you had your hand up her shirt and your tongue down her throat.”
“We were only kissing.”
Lance not shutting up made everything worse and he was promptly shoved out of my room and dragged out the front door. Seconds later Shame marched back into my room.
“You know the rules,” he shouted, pointing a long finger at me.
I deflated into the mattress. “We weren’t going to have sex.”
“I know what sex looks like . . . and trust me, that is exactly where things were headed.”
His face glowed a blistering shade of red. I had seen him angry before but never like this.
“I wouldn’t have let it get that far. I thought you trusted me? Besides, I’m saving myself.”
“What, like for marriage?”
No, asshole . . . For you, because I’m completely in love with you.
“Is there something wrong with that?” The shock on his face was a first. I had never seen him struggle so much for words. Each time his mouth opened, he closed it and shook his head. “I want outta Southie. I’m not gonna let anyone, not even Lance, prevent that from happening.”
I said everything Shame wanted to hear, played on the goals he harbored for his pet project. No room remained for him to argue.
“From what I saw, it didn’t look like you were gonna stop.”
“I’m almost fifteen and I have a boyfriend. I’m going to kiss boys and like it or not they’re probably going to feel me up, but I’m not going to have sex, so relax.”
His eyes were wide with shock now, and he fisted one hand in his hair.
“God, Dimples, when did you become so crass? I don’t like it.”
“Just being honest, gramps.”
His eyes narrowed. “Funny. All right, I’m gonna trust you, but you’re still not leavin’ the house for two weeks, and if your grades fall, or I find out you’re lying, Tank’s gonna pay Lance a visit.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” I said in an exhale. Although I couldn’t say it out loud, I thought the first time I had sex it was going to be with Shame.
Most resolutions fail. We want change. We do, but we are usually motivated for the wrong reasons, or our goals are unrealistic. Until we are truly ready to change our behavior, we will continue to revert to old habits, because that is where we are most comfortable.
SHAME
Why was I so happy she was saving herself for marriage?
It wasn’t like I would be the one waiting at the end of the aisle to take her hand. It would be some Ivy League douchebag with a nine to five job, probably in engineering. She deserved a guy like that, even if I was jealous of whomever it was she saved herself for. He was one lucky son of a bitch.
The next few weeks, I avoided her, not even bothering to sit with the guys for meals. She was getting too close to the club, to the guys . . . to me. I often caught her laughing with Tank or Dink and playing pool. The night of Tex’s initiation, I invited her so she could see a more violent side of the club. The crowd out back had already formed to wait, and I found Tex sucking back a bottle of whiskey on the steps.
“Not too late to puss out,” I said, slapping him on the back as I sat next to him.
He tipped his head back with a laugh. “I can take an ass whoppin’. You know that.”
“That I do, brother.”
His expression turned serious. “I never said it before but—”
I interrupted. “And you don’t have to say it now.”
“I want to. I owe ya a lot. You took me in when I had nothin’, accepted me when no one else would. This place is my home and you slackers are my family. Today it’s official. So, fuck Texas.”
He removed his cowboy hat at tossed it in the yard.
“Uh, you might wanna keep that,” I said.
“Nah, that life’s gone.”
“Yeah, but it’s a chick magnet.” He gave me a strange look as if reminding me he was gay. I continued, “The guys get lucky around you. They swear it’s the cowboy swag.”
“Ah.” He laughed.
“You ready?” I asked and he nodded. We stood and walked into the center of the circle of brothers.
I spun around, surveying the crowd, until I spotted Breeze next to Dink. She needed to see this to understand who we truly were and to ensure she wanted no part of it. As the head mutha fucker in charge of The Bastards, it was my duty to throw the first punch. Without warning, I whipped around and landed a blow square to Tex’s nose that knocked him backward a few feet. The only shriek I heard came from Breeze. Everyone else cheered loudly as the other members entered the circle and took to pounding on Tex. I didn’t know why I went to Breeze and put my arm around her. She appeared to need consoling.
“Make them stop,” she pleaded, looking up at me with shear worry in her expression.
“I can’t,” I said, drawing her close to my side. “He has to tap out.”
That was the rule and one proved themselves loyal by not tapping out until they had taken their lickings. Tex was as tough as they came, and I knew he would last a while. That was what Breeze needed to see, how choosing The Bastards meant more than the glory she had heard about, or the camaraderie she witnessed daily.
She tried to pull away from me, but I forced her forward to watch. Her eyes maintained a look of horror as the guys continued to kick and punch Tex. Blood squirted from his face and showered the concrete.
“He’ll be fine,” Dusty shouted over the crowd without looking at me first. “This is nothing compared to what happens when we cross the equator at sea. Now, that’s some seriously messed up shit. I’d rather an ass beating.” As Dink finished, our eyes connected and the look I sent him forced him to take a step back. He wasn’t supposed to go easy on Breeze, or ease her concerns.
When the crowd settled, I knew Tex had finally tapped out. As was customary, I not only started the initiation but also finished it. I stepped into the circle next to Tex who lied face down on the grass. He rolled over but had yet to reach for my offered hand. Between the swelling and the blood, his face was barely recognizable. All that was left for him to be official was to stand up. I was willing to help, because I loved my brother, but he smacked my hand away and slowly rose to his feet. While he stumbled a couple of times, he stayed upright.
“Welcome to The Bastards, brother,” I yelled, grabbing his hand and hoisting his arm in the air.
The crowd roared with excitement before the individual congratulations came. Everyone went into the clubhouse for the party that was also tradition after an initiation. Pop always figured if you were going to get your ass beat to a pulp, you quite deserved to get good and wasted. After hugging my new brother, I meandered through the crowd looking for Breeze. When I couldn’t find her, I searched upstairs and discovered her in lying on her bed, petting Gus.
“You okay?” She shrugged but didn’t answer or even bother to look at me. “This is how things are done.”
Without eye contact, she said, “I’m not upset about how things are done.”
She didn’t have to say it for me to know her frustration was with me, because I invited her, and I made her watch. “You need to stay focused on school.”
“I am focused.” Her head finally lifted. I expected anger but hurt shined in her eyes. “I thought I had proved that with grades and doing what I was told. I didn’t need to see Tex get his face bashed in to know you don’t want me around.”
I hissed a breath. “I don’t want you to want to be around. There’s a big difference.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” she shot back, the hurt in her voice unwavering.
For all it was worth, I felt like what I did succeeded in making a point. I would not apologize. Everything I did since she arrived was for her. One day she would realize how much I cared for her.
When we take small focused steps our resolutions will succeed. It may take months, or even years, but as long as we trudge on without getting distracted, we can achieve anything we set forth to accomplish.