Page 52 of We Never Kissed

Alex

I leaned back on my couch, staring up at nothing, music barely audible coming from the speakers in the ceiling. I didn’t know what time it was or how long I’d been there. Almost immediately after coming home from work, that was where I landed—with a half-way decent bottle of whiskey. I had a purpose for this drinking session, and I wasn’t about to waste the good stuff on it.

I swung my legs back to the ground and sat up, surveying the mess I’d made on the coffee table. Pushing aside the files I’d hoped to work on, I peered down at the family photo I hadn’t laid eyes on in years. Two years ago, when I’d cleaned out my father’s house, the house I grewup in, I sold most everything. But at Sammy and Ava’s convincing, I’d kept a small amount of photos.

Picking up the photo, I noted how detached I felt from that moment. It was taken not long before the accident. We looked like any other normal family. But we never were. My chest tightened, anger bubbling up from my gut. This was why I didn’t want to think about my past, about my mother. And Ava had to go and bring it right to my doorstep.Ava… I didn’t want to think about her either. Couldn’t even click on the dozens of text messages and voicemails she’d left me. Still, I ached for her, even despite my anger.

I let the photo fall back to the coffee table, and then as if on cue, my doorbell rang. I’d ordered food, but I knew it wasn’t that since the guy had already texted he’d left my dinner on the mat ten minutes ago.

Ignoring it, I grabbed the whiskey bottle and took another long pull. After a few more knocks and rings, I heard the door opening and then footsteps.

“What the hell, man,” Sammy said, coming from the door.

I didn’t bother looking over, just waited as he walked behind me, rounded the couch, then sat down on the chair to my right. “Your fucking dinner?” he said, slapping the bag down on the coffee table.

“I’m not hungry. You eat it.” I took anotherdrink and avoided eye contact. Sammy was a lot more in touch with his feelings than I was, and he was always pressing me to talk about shit I didn’t want to.

He tore open the bag and pulled out my roast beef sandwich. “Since you freaking stood me up, I will.” He unwrapped the sandwich, took half out, and jammed it into his mouth for a big bite. “But I’ll save you the other half in case you change your mind.” Even pissed, he was still a caring person.Just like his sister.I brushed the thought away.

Sammy’s mouth was still full when he re-wrapped the rest of the sandwich while he chewed.

After a few minutes of silence—save for Sammy’s aggressive eating—he said, “Well…what the hell happened to our cigar night?”

I knew I’d screwed him since it wasn’t easy for him to leave Cass and Dax.

I sighed. “Sorry, man… Some shit happened.” I finally looked at him, and he watched me carefully.

“It’s a woman. What happened? That Lauren chick, right?”

“Let it go, bro.” I shook my head and grabbed the other half of the sandwich, knowing I needed to sober up before I said some stupid shit.

“You blow cigar night and don’t even answer my textsor calls, and I’m supposed to drop it?” He shook his head. “No screw that.”

I took a bite of the sandwich, deciding what if anything I should say. Sammy would needle me until I broke, or we fought.

“Never seen you like this, brother, so I know it has to be a woman.”

“How do you figure?” I asked lamely.

“Because this is exactly what I was like when Cass tried to dump me…remember?” He grinned, and I knew it was because he’d ultimately won her back. This was totally different.

I wasn’t ready to tell him everything, so I said, “She kept something from me.” Not exactly a lie.

“Damn, sorry. Must have been a hell of a thing if you’re this messed up.” His hands froze with the sandwich poised in front of his lips. “She have a boyfriend or something?”

I opened my mouth but stuffed it with another bite instead.

“Whatever,” he said under his breath. He set the roast beef down, wiped his hands on his jeans, then reached across the coffee table. “Whoa… Have I seen this picture? Look at you.” He chuckled, but it quickly died on his lips when he saw my reaction.

“You want something to drink?” I asked.

“No thanks.” He dropped the photo in front of me. “What’s going on? What’s all this about?”

I could hear the frustration in his voice, but I knew I couldn’t tell him part of the story. It was all or nothing. My head was still spinning, but I also still had a healthy dose of bitterness swirling in my gut. “I’m sorry about tonight. I’ll make it up to you.”

Sammy let out a sigh and shook his head. “You know, I’m getting tired of this shit. You always putting up a damn wall, acting like we’re not fucking brothers.”

His words cut me deep. I could see the hurt on his face, and I scrambled for the right words as he continued.

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