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I kept my tone even. “Well, we could, but I have plans. You should’ve called me instead of assuming that I’d be available.”
Aunt Deborah and Nancy moved around in the kitchen.
Cindy placed her fork down and swallowed. “Do your plans have anything to do with Chase?”
Of course she’d found out about him. “Yes, we’re meeting this morning.” I pursed my lips. “I’ve learned from you to make the men in my life a priority.”
***
Waves lapped loudly on the sand as I walked toward the middle of the beach. Chase was on the sand with his long, thick, muscular legs stretched out before him. He must have known someone else was near him because he immediately he locked eyes with me. He shifted his position, but I gestured to him to stay where he was.
When I reached him, I sank down and wrapped my legs around him from behind. I placed the side of my face on his strong, broad back, scratching him through his fine cotton t-shirt.
“Hey, babe.” He grasped my other hand and kissed the front of it.
“The roses were beautiful.” I missed being close with him.
He expelled a disgusted sigh. “I am sorry for how I came at you,” he said. “Have you spoken with your mom yet?”
I shook my head against his back and the vibration of his laughter made me giggle. “Did you finish your project?”
“I sent it off to them at four this morning. Doesn’t mean that I am done yet, though.” Quickly, he spun around so that his legs wrapped around my waist, my feet pressing against his taut butt. I laid my arms on top of his.
“Since Hunter and I were young, he was the studiou
s one and I was the brawny one. Gerald Lovell arranged it that way. We were too young to see that he wanted us to compete with each other.” He wet his lips and searched my face. “Mom always told us that we were both great and could try to succeed at whatever we wanted to do in life. They had different parenting approaches, but at the end of the day, everything was about whether I was in a game or not, and whether Hunter was doing well in school. When I turned fourteen, I spent as much time away from home as I could. I became a major pothead, drank some, and when I was fifteen I tried a line of coke. I didn’t like it.”
“Okay,” I prompted, my heart pounding in my chest.
“When my high school coach randomly tested me with a home drug test, I freaked the fuck out. I’d been flushing since I started smoking pot and never got caught. Coach Johnson gave me a verbal warning, which he wasn’t supposed to do. He shoulda told the principal that he suspected I was drugging and randomly had me tested. My parents agreed to this when I became a part of the team. Coach warned me that if my THC levels didn’t go down in three weeks and if I tested for anything else, or he still thought I was drugging, I’d be off the team. No potential scholarship. And no recommendation to the scouts.
“After that confrontation, I hung out with my friends a few times, but they didn’t wanna hear that I wasn’t smoking a blunt, or going to try blow again. They offered all of that to me, and I bounced. I couldn’t be their friend and on the football team. My team needed me. If we lost a game, I would’ve been responsible. I’d been letting down the whole team, despite our wins, because I was using. I put us in jeopardy,” He paused for several minutes. His jaw flexed. “I found out that Hunter was in one of my old friend’s houses and got high. He never even hung out with them, but I am sure they got him to hang out with them just to fuck with me. Everyone knew Hunter and I weren’t tight. I used to tell him that he needed to chill out and smoke a blunt.” He gave a sharp shake of his head and exhaled noisily. “I got him. Hunter said he wouldn’t do it again. And then, some months later, I noticed that he was amped up about everything. It was like he never slept, and because he didn’t, he was flying off the handle about everything. Mom and Dad thought he was just burnt out from maintaining an excellent transcript and extra curriculars, but when his grades plummeted, that’s when they recognized that I was right. He was using coke.”
The aching knot in my stomach tightened for Chase and Hunter.
“I told Mom and Dad everything, but they only focused on how I abused drugs and could’ve been expelled. Not that Hunter was an addict.”
I clasped his big hand in mine. “Did he cut you when he was high?”
“When he stopped going to classes, Mom and Dad kicked him out. Changed the locks, the phone number. They were punishing him. Not getting him the help he needed. The neighbors knew about Hunter. Colleagues at Dad’s law firm knew. And that’s what I think they cared about: how everyone perceived them because their kids were fuck-ups.”
I shook my head. “You weren’t fuck-ups, Chase. You got mixed up and you’re lucky you got out. Hunter was really lost. For him to go from a straight-laced kid to an addict… They didn’t even ask him why? Consult with a professional?”
“Not that I know of. One day, Hunter came home when Mom and I were there. He broke in and demanded money from her.” His voice became thick with emotion. “Babe, that wasn’t my brother. He was a complete stranger. He was high and just wanted money. I pulled him away from her and threw his ass through the front door.” Pain radiated in Chase’s eyes. “In the middle of the night, I woke up to a blade cutting into my face. I kept a stash of my own cash from the little jobs I did over the years in my room. Mom and Dad were linked to my bank account and they watched every penny I had and always asked what I spent my cash withdrawals on. And that was since we first opened our accounts. I told Hunter where to get my two thousand dollars; in a hidden slit in my closet wall.”
He gave me space to move and I sat on his lap, winding my arms around his neck. “And what happened after that?”
“Mom found out that Hunter came back. She hollered when she saw him leave through the front door. Dad called the police. The courts put him in a drug treatment program for sixty days. When he came out, he relapsed. Big time. One of my old friends called me because he thought Hunter might’ve overdosed. I went to the house they were at and Hunter was barely conscious. I was gonna take him to the ER but the police swarmed in.”
I shook my head. “They checked me. Someone slipped a packet of coke in my back pocket, and I was arrested with everyone there.” He reached for his bottle of water and gulped most of it down, his expression darkening. “Dad got me out of it. I was tested and came up clean. And Coach Johnson confirmed that I was in study hall most of the evening. I was at the party for less than ten minutes when everything went down. Dad convinced them that someone put that shit in my pocket. At home, however, Dad accused me of partying with Hunter. The next morning, Mom packed some clothes for me and told me to leave. She gave me five thousand dollars and said that she was washing her hands of Hunter and I.”
“How old were you and Hunter by then?”
“Sixteen.”
“And your parents could just do that?”
Chase gave me a small smile and rubbed the palm of my hands. “Dad was smart. He knew that I didn’t want the juvenile court system to assume responsibility over me. Mom was afraid for her own life. You know? I think if I had a son who cut his brother, I’d try to prevent that from happening to me from either of them.”
