Page 7 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part One

Now that Gramma has cancer, he is talking about it again. Every time I see him, he offers, and I turn him down. Luckily, I’m nineteen, almost twenty, and he can’t get me even if he tried. I don’t want any part of living under his roof and doing whoever knows what to keep that business afloat. I see what Jensen goes through working for his father.

Not sure why he’d want to take me in anyway. The only thing I have going for me is my grades. My breeding is fucking terrible compared to his pedigree. No offense to my grandma. I can’t help but wonder if he wants the publicity of taking in an orphan child.

“You can cut that shit out too,” I snap, pressing the button so the window rolls down. Some air will help calm me the fuck down before I make him pull the car over, and we fight this out. “I’m not your father’s kid. I never have been and never will be. Like I said, I don’t need anyone’s help.”

“You’re not sleeping, are you? You’ve lost weight, so you’re working out too much again or you’re not eating. Your cheeks look fucking sunk in, man. Your ribs are showing through your shirt. I know you, bro. I choose to keep quiet most of the time because it bothers you, but I also can’t sit back and watch it happen. It’s happening again, isn’t it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I cross my arms over my chest, feeling exposed. Which is stupid because with him I don’t have to. He’s the only one who’s ever known me and can read me like a book. I hate to worry him because he doesn’t need my burden. There’s enough on his plate being groomed by his father to take over the family empire. My shit should be the least of his worries.

However, I’m always a priority, like I make him a priority, but most of the time I’m so wrapped up in my shit that I miss his. I’m a terrible friend and I’m lucky to have him in my life, but I can’t figure out why he sticks around. I’m my own worst enemy.

“Are your grades slipping?” He slows the car, pulling into the Bleu Star diner. I sigh and roll my eyes. He’s going to force me to let him buy my dinner, like he told Gramma he would buy hers. She has an easier time letting him help with the small stuff, but I don’t want him helping with anything. Jensen may work for it with his dad, but the money comes from his father, and I want nothing to do with it at all. He also knows he played dirty with Gramma and got away with it.

“No, my grades aren’t slipping,” I tell him, getting the sensation that I’m talking to a father figure rather than my best friend.

“Are the nightmares back?” I huff, clenching my fists around my biceps, my anger at his pushiness rising. He is the only one who gets away with pressing my buttons.

“Not yet.”

“Good, we can get ahead of it. What’s triggering it?” I shrug, not sure what to tell him. “Dude, come on. Fucking talk about it for once in your life and maybe you won’t spiral. I ca—” he cuts off and draws his gaze to the window at his left. “I can’t take it when I can’t help you, bro. It kills me to see you go through this when I might make it easier. Money won’t solve everything, but it will help. At least until we make it out of school and you have one less worry on your shoulders.”

“Why do you care so much?” His head whips back so hard I’m surprised his neck doesn’t snap. The hurt in his molten gray eyes cuts deep. I’m such a dick, not sure why I always have to pick fights and be so stubborn, so self deprecating, when he wants to help me. It’s a reflex. I deserve nothing good in this life. A piece of shit from the wrong side of the tracks with a past that haunts me daily is all I am. I go to a school that reminds me of that every chance it gets.

“Because no matter what you say, you’re my fucking brother. In a world where I have to deal with rich pricks who think they run everything and fake bitches who only want me because of my father’s money, with no chance of getting away unless I die—because we both know my father will find me if I run—you are the only real thing in my life. The only one I can talk to and get no judgment back. The only person I am comfortable being me around, with no facade to keep up appearances, is you. You don’t tell me to man up when I get to thinking about Mama. You were there for me and always have been. I know you don’t believe you have because of your own shit, but you are. You’re my brother, and I wish you’d see the value in your life.”

I lay my head back to hide how stunned I really am. J has said nothing like that to me before. I always assumed I was his charity case, though he would never mean for me to be in the way his father wanted. He would never treat me like that.

“I’m not trying to be a dick. I really have no clue what is triggering it,” I admit.

“How long now?”

“About a week.” He shakes his head, exhaling heavily through his nose. He yanks the keys from the ignition and balls them in his hand as he reaches for the door handle. I do the same, propelling myself from the car and into the sweltering heat of the summer evening. There isn’t a breeze in sight and the humidity coaxes sweat from my brow almost immediately.

“Do you think it’s school and the fact that it's freshman year? The pressure of college and shit?” He closes his door, and I catch up beside his long strides to walk next to him. I’m a tall guy, but J makes me look short.

“I’m good at school. So, no, that’s not a worry. I’m ready to be done. I hate it.”

“Like hell you’re ready to be done with it. You didn’t get a scholarship and work your ass off at Bleudale to skate through college. Gramma lives for the fact that you got a scholarship.”

We slip through the front door of the old school diner, which is decked out in chrome and neon lights. The bar in front is chrome, with chrome and black stools. Even the walls are half chrome. It works in a weird way.

The top half of the walls are a light gray, the floors black-and-white tiles. Pictures of classic muscle cars hang on the walls, showing off the many car shows they’ve held here. Once a month since 1956.

Bleudale was a small town, before they put the Academy in, and Jensen’s grandfather moved his company here. Now we are a city on the map that everyone who’s anyone knows about. The diner is the only thing that has survived.

“I’m tired of school, bro. I’m ready to get a full-time job and move on with my life,” I announce as we walk to our usual booth in the back and plop down. Our server is a woman I’ve never seen before, older with teased up hair and stains on her red uniform. She’s a small woman with leathery skin from years of being in the sun and bright pink lipstick. The rest of her makeup is subtle. She’s not bad looking, but not great either.

She takes notice of Jensen, which always happens. His clothes probably cost more than she makes in a month, which draws them to him every time. He may be a sexual deviant, but good thing he isn’t into cougars.

Jensen sighs in relief at the sight of her. He’s always dying of hunger. Shifting in his seat to stretch out, he has an arm resting along the back of the booth, the other tapping out a rhythm on the tabletop. I’m sure if I look down, I’ll see his legs sprawled out with his toes touching the bottom of my booth.

“What can I get you to drink?”

“This is all on one tab,” he blurts, not giving me the chance to say anything. Confusion flashes through the waitress’s eyes, followed by a minor disappointment. She probably thinks we’re together. Which is fine, I don’t care—love is love—but especially if it will keep her from flirting. We don’t need time with the menu, we’ve been coming here for a long time. We order burgers and send her on her way.

“Fuck that. You need to put your brain to use. What happened to med school? Huh? What happened to being some big shot doctor who saves lives and helps those who can’t afford health insurance? Those people are still around, and they still need you.” He grabs a straw and starts ripping the paper off. When it’s naked, he shoves it into the corner of his mouth and starts chewing it.

“I’m not interested anymore.” He snorts a laugh that says my statement is bullshit.

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