Chapter 2
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed after the incredible, painful damage my feet sustained, was the ten million text messages from Jane. All of them were either demanding more information about Jack or simply gushing about him.
Either way, I felt no urge to reply. I pulled on sweats (with a bit of a struggle) then stumbled into the bathroom to overdose on painkillers and cover my feet in Neosporin and Band-Aids.
Miraculously, I’d woken up before two o’clock in the afternoon, so that meant that my mom was still asleep. She did a graveyard shift as a dispatcher in St. Paul, so she usually made it home at an ungodly hour and then slept all day. My brother Milo was a studious little bastard though, and he’d probably been in bed before midnight and up before nine. When I made it out to the living room, I found him sitting at the computer, probably researching a paper for school even though we were on Spring Break. He was a freshman in high school and had the social life of a toddler. It was a sad, sad thing that I was the cool one in the family.
“What’s wrong with you?” Milo asked, glancing up at me.
“What’s wrong with you?” I countered, utilizing my quick wit. I had gone into the small adjoined kitchen and poured myself a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. (This hasn’t been tested by scientists, but I’ve come to find that a Gatorade, a bowl of Fruity Pebbles, and an Excedrin will cure any hang over.)
“Hung over?” Milo noticed me creating my hang over antidote, and I had to admit that I did feel sort of hung over. My entire body just ached like I had been in a car wreck, and I cursed Jane underneath my breath.
“Something like that,” I mumbled. With my bowl of cereal and lemon-lime sports drink in hand, I flopped on the couch, determined to find either Looney Tunes or a really trashy Lifetime movie (the second part of my hang over cureall).
“What time did you get in last night?” Milo questioned with a hint of disapproval in his voice. He’s two and a half years younger than me, but he’s definitely the parental figure in our relationship. Since Mom’s always working, and Dad’s been out of the picture since like the beginning of time, I guess one of us had to step up and do it. Shockingly, it wasn’t me.
“I don’t know.” I tried to think, but I couldn’t actually remember. After we left the diner, I had pretty much been unconscious the entire time. I only vaguely (and very fondly) remembered getting the text from Jack, and I guessed it was somewhere around two or three. Either way, that didn’t seem very late, but all that damn running with and without heels had just exhausted me.
“So what did you end up doing last night?” He had finally given up on even the pretense of doing something on the computer and tilted his chair towards me. His dark brown eyes settled on me with their usual mix of curiosity and concern, as if he always half-expected me to admit to shooting up black tar heroin and having sex for money.
“Nothing,” I shrugged.
This was mostly the truth, since all of our plans had fallen through and we spent the better part of the night just walking around downtown. I decided to purposely leave out any mention of Jack. Generally, I told Milo everything (even all the naughty parts he probably didn’t want to know), but for some reason, I wasn’t ready to tell him about Jack. It probably had something to do with the fact that I didn’t know how to explain him.
“Nothing?” Milo raised an eyebrow, making this suspicious face that made him look older than he really was. Aside from the baby fat that clung to his cheeks, he could actually pass for being older than me. I lacked the wisdom and general common sense that he did.
“We couldn’t get in anywhere,” I explained through a mouthful of cereal.
“So we just wandered around looking for a club until my feet were completely destroyed, and then we came home.”
“Jane didn’t drag you off to some party?”
“Nope.”
“That’s very unlike her to end a night without vodka or sex,” Milo commented, and there was a lot of truth in that.
That might have explained her desperation with Jack. He was just the last guy around, and she needed a fix. But then I thought of the text messages from her, and the way everyone else in the restaurant looked at him. Nope, there was definitely something up that I couldn’t grasp.
“Life is full of surprises.” I had eaten all my cereal, so I started drinking the rainbow colored milk from the bowl and hoped that Milo would let the subject drop. He kept looking at me, though, and I knew that he knew that I left something out. “What are you up to today?”
“This,” he shrugged. “You?”
“Same.” I set my bowl down on the coffee table and settled back on the couch. “There’s a movie about a sex addict on Lifetime. Care to watch?”
“Sure.” Milo got up from the kitchen chair that sat in front of the computer desk and planted himself at the end of the couch. I stretched out, resting my battered feet on his lap. He started to say something about the state of them, but then answered his own question by simply saying Jane. We both agreed that she was the source of all my life’s problems.
We spent the rest of the afternoon camped out on the couch watching a Lifetime movie marathon. Mom got up, showered, and made a few derogatory remarks about how we should be making ourselves useful. Admittedly, I did very little, but Milo kept the house clean, so she didn’t really have anything to complain about. She left for work early, citing overtime, but I was never sure if I believed that or not. Sometimes, I think she just didn’t like being in the apartment. At this point, it had become more like Milo and I lived on our own.
We even did all the grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. (Again, by
“we,” I mostly mean him. But I did help. Sometimes.)
Around nine, I finally decided that I ought to shower. My feet had recuperated enough where they could stand to be submerged in soap and water. When I went into my room to gather my clothes, I noticed my cell phone flashing on the table. I had ignored it all day because I had wanted to ignore Jane, but I knew that eventually I’d have to deal with her. Much to my surprise, buried underneath the mass of texts from her, I found a text message from Jack.
The Matches tomorrow. First Ave. Seven o’clock. I’m buying. You in?
He’d obviously been paying attention last night when I just casually mentioned liking the band The Matches, and he’d inexplicably invited me to a concert at First Ave, which was a rather historic little venue downtown, not that far off from where he found us actually. I couldn’t help but feel incredibly flattered. And I knew that if Milo heard about this, he’d be filled with nothing but an uneasy suspicion and do everything but forbid me from going. Despite all that, I couldn’t feel that way. Sure, he was too old for me, but we weren’t dating, and I didn’t really feel like that would become an issue.
I sighed, then quickly responded with, That’s too much $. I already owe you too much.
I expected a long wait for a response from him. Jack seemed way too fancy to be sitting with his phone doing nothing. He’d probably be busy doing…
I don’t know what. But something far more exciting than sitting on his bed, preparing to shower. Instead, I got a reply within seconds.
Oh be quiet. Money doesn’t matter. Are you in or not?
Of course I was in. It was one of my favorite bands and I had a sinking suspicion that Jack might become one of my favorite people. Why would I say no? Besides that, it was Spring Break, so I didn’t even have school to contend with. Not that that would’ve stopped me even if there was school, but it would’ve caused Milo to give me more than an eyebrow raise.
Yeah. But don’t get in the habit of buying me things. I messaged him back.
Don’t get in the habit of protesting when I buy you things.;) Funny. I replied, hoping it sounded as droll as I wanted it to.
I’ll pick you up at six-thirty. Sound good? That was cutting it awfully close to the time the show started. I knew we’d be able to get in, but I was rather short, and I hated ending up at the back of the crowd. But he was
