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“Hey.” Jay took a pull on his beer.
“You know we gotta talk, right?”
“Yeah, because you’re a little bitch and whined to Pop.”
Zach’s only reply was a quiet scoff. “What do you need, Jake, to get over your butthurt?”
“Fuck you. It’s not butthurt.”
“I don’t get it. I really don’t. I thought I did, but I thought you’d get over it eventually. But it’s a fucking year since I left and you’re still sulking.” He went quiet, staring at the fire. “I thought this would be good for you. You hate being compared to me, and now I’m not around.”
“You’re still around, bro. You’re fucking everywhere. But that’s ... it’s not that.”
“Thenwhat?”
Jay didn’t know. He wasn’t sulking. He wasn’t butthurt, and it pissed him the fuck off that everybody thought he was. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to do things right—to do thingswell—all anybody saw was what he did wrong, or what they thought he did wrong. Because he wasn’t Zach.
“Okay, it is that, I guess. I can’t be as good as you at fucking anything, and I can’t get free of you. So it doesn’t matter what I do, or how far away you are, I’m always gonna be your fuckup brother, and I’m tired of it. It’s worse now, I think”—as he said it, Jay finally fully saw it, and yes, it was worse. Moreover, yes, it was the core of his bad feelings for his brother. “It’s worse now. Since you left.”
“I’m sorry about that. I don’t understand why, though. I know I had your back and helped you straighten some shit out, but I thought—”
“Shut up a second. Let me think.”
Zach shut up.
Jay didn’t like to think much about why he was the way he was, or how he could be better, or whatever. When he was trying to be better, he just followed other people’s leads, didn’t do shit he was told not to do and didn’t bother to think about why they were doing what they were doing, or why he couldn’t do shit he was told not to do. When he was pissed and feeling ‘fuck it,’ he aimed at the shit he’d been told not to do and did it. End of story. His few attempts at self-reflection made him restless and frustrated. He just wasn’t that deep.
But this insight felt close, right now, as he and his brother sat at the bonfire while the rest of the Bulls began to make their way inside to make up plates of food, and Jay tried to catch it before it faded away.
“It’s worse because ... I guess ... when you were around, everybody expected you to clean up after me, and now, even when I’m trying not to make a mess, everybody figures I do because you’re not around to clean up after me.”
Zach stared at him. “What?”
He didn’t know how to say it better, and he didn’t want to keep thinking about it. “Fuck it. Never mind.” Jay swallowed the last of his beer and started to stand.
Zach slammed a hand on his shoulder and held him in place. “Wait, don’t. Just—nowyouletmethink.” He paused for only a minute. “You’re saying everybody thinks anything you did right was me, so now, because I’m gone, they don’t think you can do anything right?”
Getting lost in his own point, Jay could only shrug. “I guess.”
“Fuck, Jay. I don’t know what to do about that.”
Hereallywanted to stop thinking about it. “You can’t do anything about it. It’s not your problem. It’s mine.”
Zach was still looking at him, but for a long time, he didn’t say anything. Neither did Jay.
The truth was, Jay fucking missed his brother. Zach was his best friend and always had been. Yeah, it sucked always to come in second, always to come up short, but Zach had always had his back. He’d have had Zach’s back, too, if the asshole ever fucked up. Everything in his life had ... just ...fitbetter before the Laughlin charter fucked it all up.
“I still got your back, Jay,” Zach said softly, like he’d been having a tour around Jay’s head. “I’ll always have it. Doesn’t matter where we live. I’m here, bruh.”
That sounded like sappy greeting card bullshit, but Jay was tired of being pissed, tired of getting shit about it. Just tired. “Okay. Yeah.”
Zach frowned. “Yeah? We’re good?” He sounded shocked. It had been a full year since they’d really talked, so maybe some shock was reasonable. And maybe that was why Jay’s mad had lost steam. It was a lot of work to hold a grudge, and he was tired.
“Yeah, we’re good.” With those three words came a flutter of lightness Jay hadn’t expected. The past year had worn harder on him than he’d realized. Then more words sprang up, and he said them without thinking. “I’m sorry.”
Zach’s eyes actually went wide. Like cartoon-animal wide. A caricature of shock.
“Fuck off,” Jay said, feeling defensive.
