I didn’t want to see her eyes well up when they met mine, the both of us remembering when Christmas wasn’t the month-long celebration she had with my sister and brother. If I was honest, I did get a twinge of jealousy for how my siblings never had to worry about Mom like no child at their ages should have to or overhear her arguing with our landlord about our rent being late.
They all meant well, but falling all over me as an adult for what I went through as a kid only made it worse.
I always felt I had to be “on,” around my family, or else I’d be met with a chorus of “what’s wrong” or “are you okay?” Even though it was out of love, it was exhausting at times.
“Your father doesn’t want you to burn out on your break from school, and neither do we.” He raised a brow. “Promise me you’ll take it easy. At least cut the hours after Christmas before you go back.”
“I’m fine, Drew. I like working there, and I’m not getting burned out, I swear.”
I kept my head down as I walked back to my room. If I looked him in the eye, he’d see right through me.
After setting my coffee cup on my nightstand, my buzzing phone skidded across the surface.
Anthony: Four pages for you to look at today.
My lips lifted in a tired smile, the familiar stirring in my belly whenever I saw Anthony’s name pop up on my phone screen. We were only friends, but your heart doesn’t leap like that after a text from only a friend.
Victoria: Four? Did you stay up the whole night?
Anthony: Can’t help it when inspiration strikes, you know that.
Victoria: Very true.
Anthony: What are you doing up so early?
Victoria: Helping my brother find Alfred the elf.
Anthony: Your brother is named after Bruce Wayne and you guys named the elf Alfred? Is there a bat symbol painted on the side of the house?
Victoria: No, but I’m sure Drew thought of it.
Anthony: Drew sounds awesome. If you have time, I’ll show you in the break room today.
Victoria: What about lunch at the diner across the street? Change of scenery maybe and so none of the guys are into our conversation. Four pages sounds like a lot to discuss.
The three texting dots popped up then disappeared. We’d gone to the comic book store together on Halloween, but we were both headed there anyway. Lunch together at a diner was a simple, silly thing but somehow felt a lot more intimate than sitting at my desk or in the break room.
Anthony: Sure, that works. See you later.
I was too old to have a crush, but the more time we spent together, the more it felt like something much bigger than that.
Anthony and I were magnets, the pull between us getting stronger the closer we became. I was powerless and stuck, and yet there was nowhere else I wanted to be.
5
Anthony
“I can’t believe how far you’ve come with this in less than a month!”
Victoria beamed at me from across the booth at the diner. My stomach turned over from not knowing what to do with all that pride and awe radiating from her. The only thing I could manage was a shrug before taking a sip of my iced tea.
“Okay,” a sigh fell from her gorgeous lips before she shook her head. I thought if I willed away my attraction to Victoria, it would fade over time, not double whenever I was within a few feet of her. I could’ve gone back to keeping my distance like I did when I first worked here, and I should have.
But if I cut her off now, I’d lose the only real friend I had.
Some of my old buddies still checked in from time to time, but other than a couple of dinners when I first came home, I steered clear of most of them other than a few weekly texts. The memories were still too raw to go back to the old neighborhood, and while they were good guys for the most part, things like the occasional joint were off the table for me—even after my probation.
I fucked up royally once, and had zero intention of doing it again, even if it meant spending the little free time I had alone.
The other mechanics in the shop were nice enough, and we’d joke around as we worked, but it was superficial and hollow. I knew Victoria’s schedule at the shop better than Josh did. Even when I didn’t have pages to show her, which was almost never, I’d seek her out because I liked talking to her. I liked her.
It was one thing to notice Victoria’s pretty face or amazing body, but to have this kind of connection with her was leading us both down a doomed path.
“Drop the humble act.” She crossed her arms and leaned her elbows onto the table. “You’re an amazing artist, and you know it. I’m just giving you suggestions, but you’re making it into the masterpiece that it is.”
A laugh slipped out of me when our eyes met.
“Masterpiece? Laying it on kind of thick, aren’t you? I agree it’s come a long way, but it’s missing something.”
“Well,” she peeked at her watch, “we have twenty more minutes. Let’s brainstorm. What do you think is missing—” she trailed off, gazing over my shoulder with her lips pursed.
“What’s wrong?” I looked over my shoulder at a couple of guys settling onto seats by the counter.
“I went to elementary school with them. The guy with the Mets cap used to call me puke eyes.” She dropped her head as she flicked a French fry back and forth on her plate.
“Puke eyes? Why?”
Victoria’s eyes were beautiful, and I wanted to march over there and clock him one for ever saying they looked like puke.
If not for the whole violating parole thing I had to keep in mind.
“When I was in the second grade, around Christmas time, I got sick. But I didn’t tell anyone. My mom was working a lot and distracted with getting to all her jobs on time. I didn’t want to say anything because she’d panic at finding someone to watch me during the day. Plus, they were having the very first school Santa breakfast, and I wanted to ask him for this really awesome Wonder Woman doll I kept seeing on TV.”
“Of course, you did.” I coaxed a tiny smile out of her.
“Well, I never made it. That morning of the breakfast, and I still remember this so vividly, my face felt like it was on fire, and I threw up in my classroom doorway.”
I returned the wince she gave me.
“So, thanks to Ryan over there, I was puke eyes until eighth grade graduation. He said that’s why my eyes were green because I was full of puke.”
I’d never forgotten how her eyes stopped me in my tracks on my first day at the shop. She’d joke how they were hulk eyes, but they were more like the color of kryptonite to me, and just as captivating and lethal.
“So, he was an asshole.”
She shrugged. “I guess kids are just mean. At least most of the ones I knew back then. The girls got in on it, too. Sometimes even more.”
My fist clenched at her defeated expression.
“I kept to myself for the most part, wrote stories in notebooks instead of playing at recess. It wasn’t until Dad and my stepmom came along that I really had the chance to be a kid, and by that time, the little kid stuff was already off the table. I was too old for things like going to see Santa like my little brother and sister are doing today.”