“What do you think, James?” Stella asks, yanking me from my thoughts.
“About what? Sorry?” I haven’t even been paying attention to the conversation right in front of me.
Just her.
“Bro, your head is in the clouds today,” Nessa heckles from beside me. “What is up with you?”
“Sorry, a lot on my mind,” I say, and this time I can’t not stare at Stella.
“I was asking what you think of the subscription service now that ‘Home Brewed’ has been out for almost a year,” Stella fills me in patiently. I wasn’t exactly involved with it, but I was around to help out here and there.
“Yeah, it’s pretty good. Definitely came with some… excitement.” I make a face, remembering how the original release day got delayed because of Hazel’s asshole ex. Hazel’s eyes cloud over at the reminder. Guilt creeps up my throat until she gives me a small smile. I got rid of that jerk, Justin, for her a few times, and I’d do it again. Nessa had told me about him right after she found out his relationship wasn’t as open as he said it was, and I was already prepared to knock the guy out for screwing with my sister’s head. I don’t take kindly to people who lie to get my sister–or anyone– in bed. His harassing Hazel only sealed his fate.
“I can’t wait to see what next month looks like,” rambles Stella, taking the attention off of me, thankfully.
As brunch proceeds and no more mishaps occur, I can feel my muscles actually begin to unclench. I end up talking to Beck a bit about some new bands he’s auditioning and he invites me tocome sit in on one or two to provide my ‘expert input.’ I doubt I’ll be much help, and I tell him that when I reluctantly agree. He throws his head back in a laugh.
“Trust me, I can definitely use the help.”
“I agree,” Hazel adds. Beck makes a mock surprised face. “Hey, you’re the one who agreed to let a jazz swing group come play Eminem covers.” The table erupts in laughter as Beck looks like he’d love to hide in his coffee cup.
“I told you, that cough medicine was strong!” Beck says, awkwardly trying to defend himself.
There’s a bittersweet pang hiding away somewhere in me when brunch finally ends and everyone prepares to go their separate ways. I’m about to steer Nessa to our spot when she darts out from under my arm.
“I’m going to get a ride with Beth!” Nessa shouts, walking the opposite direction of where my car is parked in the lot when we exit. “Thanks for coming, big bro!” she shouts, fog puffing from her mouth in the frosty air. Her and Beth huddle together as they race to Beth’s car.
I shake my head in annoyance and head over to my car, passing the bus stop as I do. I see a big, bright pink puffer coat obscuring someone on the snow-covered bench. Stella has an obnoxiously bright orange pom pom toque pulled over her ears and is huddled in on herself. It’s freezing outside. I can’t leave her here.
I sigh. “Need a ride?” I call over. Her brightly covered frame straightens from its hunched position to look at me. She hesitates for a moment. “I won’t bite,” I reassure her.
She pauses, assessing me before she stands, grabbing her yellow purse and stumbling over a snow drift to walk towards my car. She’s almost caught up with me when she slips on a patch of ice, her arms wheeling. Before the thought can even cross mymind, my arms snap out, snatching her out of the air, causing her to let out an undignified squeak.
I could make a profession out of keeping her on her feet for the amount I do it.
“Careful there, sunshine, wouldn’t want to bust that cute ass of yours.” I don’t know where the words come from, but there’s no stopping the flirtatious tone I can’t keep from colouring my words.
She blinks up at me innocently. “You think it’s cute?”
I grunt, propping her up on her own two feet, and take a step back. “Stop falling. Let’s go.” I take long strides to the car as she jogs to keep up with me. I’m already belted in and ready to reverse by the time she flings the door open and jumps in.
I remember where her place is from last time, so I don’t need to ask, which makes the ride awkwardly silent. The radio is on quietly so that our breathing isn’t the only thing we hear. I’m typically fine with long silences, but she’s normally a lot chattier and this is awkward as hell. I do my best to break up the quiet.
“You good, sunshine?”
“Mmhmm. Tired.” In the short time since we’ve met, she’s never been untalkative. Even the last time I gave her a ride, and I was a bit of a surly bastard then, she still made an effort. I saw her at the café the other day, too. She chatted with anyone and everyone who walked through the doors.
Maybe it’s just me?
I’m not expecting her to speak again when she says “I had to visit my dad last night and I was late getting home. It always takes it out of me a bit, too, the visits.” Her voice is hollow, and I don’t think it’s only her body that’s tired. Her soul is too. She hid it well at brunch, but now that we’re away from the crowd, away from the noise, it’s like she’s deflated a little, like a balloon left out in the cold.
“I get that. Parents can be tough. Mine aren’t easy either.” The air in the car lightens with my confession, the tension softening under a shared camaraderie.
“I’ve heard stories from Nessa. They’re pretty hard on you too?” She’s looking out the window as she asks, giving me as much privacy as she can.
“Not as much as they are on her.”
“It’s not about who’s hurt worse. Your pain is allowed to hurt too.” That simple sentence floors me.
