Good Boy by Megan Lowe
Chapter 2
Over the next week, James becomes a bit of a lifesaver, an escape, a reprieve. I know Amy is doing the best she can, but all I can think is it’s too little, too late.
“Would you put that phone down, please, Connor?” she asks as we attempt a “family” meal. “Who are you talking to, anyway? That thing is practically glued to your palm.”
“Do you actually care or are you asking because it’s something you think you should ask?”
She puts down her knife and fork. “I’m trying here, Con.”
“Now,” I correct. “You’re trying now.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Don’t talk to me about fair,” I grit out. “Fair would’ve been you coming to help us out when Dad got sick. Or when he died. Or when Mom got sick, but no, you had to stay here. Stuff whatever me and Jase were going through.”
She lowers her head. I know I’m being a dick, but I don’t care. I’ve got years of anger pent up, and it’s coming out.
“We needed you, Aims, and you never came. Then, when you finally did, you were barely there long enough to say ‘hi’ before you packed us up and moved us here.”
“You couldn’t stay in Michigan by yourselves,” she says.
“Did you ever even consider moving there?” I ask.
She ducks her head again.
“We were at a good school. We had friends, people who knew what we’ve gone through, who understood us, who wanted to be there for us. What do we have here?”
“You have me, each other.”
“Do we really have you?”
“Of course you do.”
“Because your past actions say otherwise.”
“I’m trying,” she says in a small voice.
“Try harder,” I hit back as I push away from the table and disappear into my room.
Connor: You there?
His response comes almost immediately.
James: What’s up?
Connor: Why do families suck so much?
I can almost hear his wry chuckle again.
James: You’re asking the wrong person.
Connor: Want to vent?
James: Yes and no.
I chuckle.
Connor: Yeah, me too.
For a while, there’s nothing but silence before I pick up my phone again.
Connor: It’s my sister. She was nowhere when our parents got sick, then when they died she swept in and moved our little brother and me here. What’s with that?
James: I will see your shitty sister and raise you an overbearing mother and a largely useless father.
Connor: Dysfunctional families, keeping therapists in business since forever.
James: Lol.
I startle when there’s a knock at my door.
“Yeah?” I call.
Jase pops his head in. “You okay?” he asks.
I blow out a breath as he comes in and sits on the edge of my bed. “What do you think?”
He shrugs.
“Am I being too harsh?” I ask.
“Yes, and no.”
I chuckle. “That’s helpful.”
“I mean, yeah, it sucks Aims wasn’t there through all the shit stuff with Mom and Dad, and yeah, it sucks she moved us here, but I don’t think this is going to suck too bad.”
“Too bad,” I repeat. “That’s… optimistic.”
He shrugs again.
“I do think you need to cut her some slack though. What happened wasn’t her fault, Con.”
“Aren’t you angry?” I ask.
“Sure, but I also know holding on to that anger won’t get me anything. It won’t bring them back, it won’t change Amy’s response, it won’t move us back to Michigan.”
“She just left us, Jase.”
“Maybe she had her reasons.”
“What reason could excuse her abandoning her younger brothers?”
“Maybe you should ask her that.”
“And maybe you should stop being so fucking smart,” I say, pushing him with my foot.
“I know watching Mom and Dad…. It sucked, majorly, and I know you took on a lot of my stuff—”
“I did that willingly,” I interject. “That was never a burden. You were never a burden, Jase. You were just a kid. Hell, you’re still a kid.”
“And so are you.”
“I’ll be eighteen in a month.”
“In a month. Meaning you’re seventeen now, which is less than eighteen, the age at which you legally become an adult, making you still a kid.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re too clever for your own good?”
“I take after my brother.”
I sit up and ruffle his hair. “You’re all right sometimes, you know that?”
“Yeah, I do.”
We both laugh.
“Just give Aims a chance, Con. She’s doing the best she can. We all are.”
I run a hand through my sandy-blond hair.
“Just give her a chance. That’s all I’m asking.”
I open my mouth, but he continues.
“For me? Please?”
“I make no promises,” I warn.
“I’m just asking you to try.”
I nod. “Okay.”
Jase tackle hugs me. “Thank you, Con. You’re the best.”
I ruffle his hair again. “Only for you, you know that, right?”
“Look, I know you like to think you’re a badass and all that, but I hate to break it to you, you’re really not.”
“Pfft, I so am.”
He rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.”
He gets up and heads to the door. He turns before he walks through. “She is trying, Con. I know it may seem too little, too late, but at least she’s here now. Things could’ve been a lot worse for us.”
I nod. “I know.” And I do; it’s just after everything that’s happened over the past few years, what she’s doing? It doesn’t feel enough. I’m a little scared it will never feel enough either.
Amy and I used to be close. Then things changed. She changed. A distance opened up between us, and as time wore on, that gap only got bigger. When she graduated, she moved here for school, and that was all she wrote. Now, here I am.
I know I’m putting Jase in the middle of whatever’s between us. I know it’s a really shitty thing to do—he’s innocent in all this—but the resentment I feel against her…. It’s all consuming.
My phone chirps on my side table.
James: You know if you, I dunno, want to talk about it, or not, I’m here.
My thing with Amy might take up a lot of energy, but maybe I might find some room for James; you know, purely to blow off steam.