Breaking Her Bad by Michelle Mankin

 

 

 

 

 

Kyle

Furious at myself, I entered the shit-hole apartment I now called home, slammed the door, and started throwing stuff around the living room.

A stack of Randy’s magazines whipped through the air. A glass ashtray I sometimes used like a civilized person disintegrated when it smashed into a nearby wall. A trash can went airborne next. Debris scattered around me, I picked up a thrift-store lamp by the base. A nice one, because I’d been trying to make the apartment habitable for Uncle Bob and myself.

My grip tight, I glanced around, noting that I had nothing left from my childhood. None of the current piss-poor furniture was the nice stuff my mom had found combing through yard sales and thrift stores, attempting to make subsidized housing feel like a home.

Thinking about the past wasn’t a good idea. Not when it hit me hard how I’d remained stuck in the same place I’d started out. How I would always be stuck.

Claire flashed into my mind again. She was so breathtakingly beautiful. So sweet. She knew what I was now, but in the hall, the way she’d looked at me, it almost seemed like she still wanted me.

On the long-ass walk from school to the apartment, I’d replayed that moment repeatedly.

Looking at her was like a landslide. All the emotions came rushing back from that night. Time disappeared. The truth I’d kept from her didn’t matter. When our gazes connected, it felt like we were the only two people in our own world.

But feelings couldn’t reshape my shitty reality.

I shouldn’t have lingered in the hallway, hoping for a glimpse. I was supposed to ignore her. Now that she knew what I was, and my harsh words had diminished what we’d shared, I needed to maintain the distance those things created between us, not try to erase it. I needed to be prepared to push her farther away if necessary.

Though maybe that wasn’t necessary. I’d seen the hurt in her eyes before she turned away. That was pain I caused her.

“Fuck!” I ripped the cord from the wall. Lifting the lamp over my head, I was about to smash it onto the coffee table but froze when I saw Bob on the stairs.

He made a face. “Oh no. You got hurt.” His brows drew together as he studied me, and his ears twitched. “What happened? What’s wrong, Kyle?”

“Nothing.” Everything. But I stuffed the futile emotions inside.

Closing my eyes, I imagined everything going into the watertight box. I breathed in and out through my nose. It wasn’t a lot of air, but enough that I didn’t drown. When I reopened my eyes, I found Bob standing in front of me.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper.” I lowered the lamp, placing it carefully back on the end table.

“It’s okay. I lost mine the other night.” Wearing a concerned expression and a yellow Audubon Society T-shirt with his jeans, he bent down to retrieve the scattered magazines.

“Thank you, Bob.”

I made sure the lamp was plugged in and switched it on. As I straightened, Bob handed me the stack of magazines. His cheeks were flushed after getting an eyeful of one of the spreads in Randy’s magazines. But it wasn’t anything he hadn’t already seen. Despite my best efforts, it was impossible to shield Bob from everything, especially in this shit hole.

“Need a broom?” Gary poked his head out of the kitchen.

“Sure.” I exhaled shakily. “Sorry for all the commotion. I was upset.”

“Happens to all of us.” Crossing the space with a broom and a dustpan, Gary gave me a long look before bending to pick up the bigger pieces of glass from the ashtray while I started gathering trash. “Looks like you got your ass kicked at school.”

“You should see the other guy.” I glanced at Bob. He didn’t seem concerned, but I didn’t want him to worry.

“Don’t think anyone’s gonna see Neto ever again,” Gary muttered, giving me a knowing look.

“Why’s that?” I glanced up sharply.

“La Rasa is the real deal. He disobeyed his higher-up. That kinda shit isn’t tolerated.” Gary poured the ashtray fragments from the dustpan into the trash can, leaned the broom handle against the wall, and set the empty dustpan on the coffee table.

“Fucking hell.” I dropped my chin, shaking my head.

“Not your fault.” Gary placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Isn’t it?”

“No, man,” he said. “Neto knew the rules.”

Bob inched closer. “I’m scared for you.”

Patting his shoulder, I tried to reassure him. “It’s okay. I can handle myself.”

“Not so sure,” Gary muttered, and when I glared at him, he waved off my glare. “Don’t get all pissy. Just saying you usually think things through before acting.”

He was right. But logic didn’t seem to apply when Claire was involved.

“Skellin was here and asking a bunch of questions while you were at school,” Gary told me, studying me closely.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Gary winced. “What’s up with him lately? Does he have a reason to question your loyalty?”

“Hell no. Did I say anything when Strader’s guys broke my leg with a fucking bat?” I caught myself when Bob put his hand on my arm. “Sorry for the cussing, Uncle Bob.”

“It’s okay.” He released me. “I just don’t like to see you so upset.”

“Know you didn’t crack,” Gary said. “The way that all went down wasn’t your fault. But I’d watch my back if I were you.”

Jorge had said nearly the same thing. Being given similar advice from two different sources made me feel edgier than I already was.

“I hear you.” I nodded to acknowledge Gary’s warning.

“Good.” Gary grabbed the broom and the pan. Turning, he headed for the kitchen, but stopped halfway there and glanced back at me over his shoulder. “What time does the back-to-school party kick off tonight?”

“Usual time,” I said.

Bob frowned, rubbing his stomach. “I’m hungry.”

“Me too, bud.” Because of the fight, I’d missed lunch.

“Nothing in the fridge but beer,” Gary called out before disappearing behind the swinging door.

Remembering Tommy’s offer, I said, “We’ll go out.”

“Yay!” Bob’s frown turned into a smile.

“We’ll have to come right back,” I told him, wanting to manage his expectations, which was ironic because I was having a hell of a time managing my own. “I have a shipment to receive.”

Bob gave me a hopeful look. “Can we go to the park? See the birds?”

Even though we’d have to hop a train to get to a decent park, I wanted to please him, so my decision was already made.

“Sure, we can, Bob.” I pointed. “Go upstairs and get your jacket.”

“Thank you, Kyle.” Grinning, he tromped up the steps.

Bob’s happiness went a long way to smooth out my edginess after receiving two warnings in one day. But as I waited for him, I still wanted to throw stuff, and had to suppress the urge.

Nothing would make me feel better about Claire.