Page 41 of Chase
“Don’t call me that,pendejo.”
“Then drop your attitude.”
“Will you just fucking leave already?”
“Not until you text me back.”
She pulls her phone out from her pocket and types away before repocketing it and stares at him. She smirks when my brother’s phone sounds off from inside his hoodie. He pulls it out without breaking their intense stare and holds his phone in his hand. These two are about to start a fucking fire.
“Go ahead, check it,” she taunts, almost smiling.
He takes the bait and his eyes dart down to his screen for a half a second before they return to her retreating back to the other side of the room. She goes back over to her bed to stand next to the woman who I assume is a nurse as she takes a blood pressure cuff out of her bag.
A doesn’t say a fucking word. He watches her sit down on the bed, doesn’t take his eyes off of her as she holds her arm out for her blood pressure to be taken, and then mutters, “Let’s get outta here,” when she flips him off as the nurse continues taking her vitals.
“What did she text you?” I ask him as we walk back out towards the common areas.
“She sent some shit to piss me off. Times she thinks I won’t commit to.”
“Why are you smiling then?” There’s this devious grin taking over his face. There’s a light flickering in his dull eyes that I haven’t seen in ages. It brightens him right up and he looks fucking wild right now.
“Because she thinks she fucking won. If she wants to meet me Friday and Saturday nights at 9PM then that’s what we’ll do.” He texts a response and sends it off. He doesn’t say anotherword about it as we walk outta the shelter, but he does check his phone every two fucking seconds for the entire walk back.
I couldn’t fucking take it anymore and spoke to my sister and the boys last night after our game. We needed a plan. My brother needs us more than fucking ever. I’ve been so caught up in my own shit I didn’t realize how depressed he was. The past week has been a fucking eye opener.
Now that I’m aware of what he’s been going through it’s all I see. He’s never been this irritable, this sad, this messy, or this self-destructive. It’s fucked up.
I knew I needed extra time this morning to get his ass ready and out the door. I threw in an extra egg and added some avocado when I made his breakfast. He’s lost fucking weight and I wanted him to have the extra protein and fats. He ate that bad boy in three bites.
As soon as I locked the door, I texted my sister and let her know we were good to go. She’s gonna work on cleaning his room and taking care of his nasty ass laundry. Max and Drew will help with the garbage and stuff. He can’t fucking live in there like that anymore. I wasn’t kidding about the hazmat suits. I told B to wear those rubber gloves that go up to your elbows to tackle that fucking disaster.
Monroe and Jake are gonna meet him over at the Wellness Center for therapy to make sure his ass goes. Coach is giving him a lifeline and he needs to take it.
I know my brother, he fucking loves hockey even if he’s lost his way right now. I’m not about to watch him throw away his life and all he’s worked for. Not a fucking chance.
Neither is B. Our brother’s mental health struggles have given her and I something to talk about. I’m not ready to get into it all yet, but I’m managing my shit in my own way. Or at least I thought I was.Then I fucking saw Edison.
I’ve texted her a hundred fucking times and she hasn’t responded. Not one goddamn time.
She’s fucking with my hockey eligibility and I can’t let her do that. Fuck that and fuck her. All that goddamn sass and attitude. She thinks she’s won some fucking game. She read my texts, but didn’t respond just to fuck with me. Well mission fucking accomplished because I feel like I’m on fucking fire.
My body’s burning from the inside out when we walk outta the shelter. It’s been fucking weeks since I saw her and every fucking cell in my body remembers what it’s like to be near her. It’s like some weird muscle memory or something. Whatever feeling this is, it’s boiling up inside of me like fucking lava whenever I see her.
She’s one big fucking memory trigger for me and it pisses me off. It feels a lot like rage.She could’ve fucking died.I’m hit with too many goddamn thoughts.All these fucking feelings.It’s all too fucking emotional for me to handle. I just want it to go away.
I’ve been fucking mad at her since that night. I know I should be grateful that she got herself involved but that’s what makes me fucking angry. She put herself in harms way and got fucking hurt.
Then she put me in the fucking position to feel all these fucking things for her in the middle of an absolute clusterfuck of shit that was happening at the same fucking time. It’s been a fucking lot and now I can’t stop thinking about it.
I have no fucking idea how I stood there and watched those paramedics work on her like they did. All those needles and tubes. And then I heard it. That fucking flatline. I was close enough to hear her heart fucking stop.
I couldn’t leave her when they shocked her back to life. I swear they weren’t just jump starting her heart, they were shocking mine too. I felt every jolt in my chest when her body snapped like a rubber band in response to those fucking paddles.
I can’t stomach it. I can’t process it. When a lingering thought or a flashback gets stuck in my head I either punch something or find myself sitting in a tattoo chair. I went from one tattoo to having a full fucking sleeve.
The buzzing noise from the tattoo gun drowns out the noise in my head and the constant needling into my skin numbs the chronic pain.
It’s too much for me to relive; my sister attacked and unconscious and my tutor broken and bloody. All because of me. Standing in front of Edison makes it all too real again. I’ve barely been able to keep my shit together in front of my sister.
