Pieces of Us (5 page)

Kyle

Y
ou watch the trees draw shadows on the shades, and it calms you. Your mother is out—as usual. Alex is out and will be for the entire night—not so usual. You were invited out, too. You were promised Girls. Beer. Beer-Goggled Girls. A celebration before “Junior Year Hell.” For once, you thought about the invite. You don’t usually do that. But then your bud Steve kept talking about the girls. How many he’d grab. How many he’d lay. How many beers he’d have to feed them so they’d be more willing to screw, but he wouldn’t cross into the “is this date rape” gray. Your other friends egged him on, their mouths full of greasy pizza. They laughed and chocolate milk sprayed out their noses. This made you laugh, too. Hard. Like you haven’t in a long time. “Shit,” said Steve. “Looks like Kyle might actually come to something.”

You punched him lightly in the arm. “Maybe.”

The other guys laughed and snorted more, talked about how they’d divvy up the girls. Who they’d leave for you, who they’d share. And it was all in fun, but you got chills. You got hot. You felt the pizza making its way up to your mouth. You swallowed it down. Took deep breaths while pretending to laugh. They mentioned
her
. Sarah. The laughter stopped. “Idiot,” said Steve to the offender. “Sorry dude.”

You laughed it off. You didn’t like hearing her name. Didn’t even let yourself think about her. Your friends thought they got it. They’d all been there, they said. One day you’re carrying your girl’s lunch tray. The next, you’re not even on speaking terms. But it wasn’t the same. You weren’t like them. They didn’t have a brother like yours, who ruined everything. Who you could never escape.

The bell rang for next period, took her out of your head, and the world moved again. Your friends slapped you on the back. “See you tonight, right?” said Steve. And you faked an enthusiastic, “Yeah, sure. You know it.” But you knew you weren’t going to any party. And that made you hate Alex more.

But now as you walk through the house, you feel at ease. The stench of Alex’s cologne and faint cigarette smell still lingers, but he’s not there. You breathe deeply and enjoy it. You order Mexican for dinner and eat both burritos in one sitting. The cheesy nachos, too. You lie on your bed and start on your summer reading list. You take a long shower. You call your grandparents to tell them you can’t wait to see them at the lake house. “Oh, Kostya,” they say, calling you your Russian name, and you smile because you like how time stops there. How all the grandparents still act like they’re in the old country. How Katie’s and Julie’s grandpa—
dedushka
—picks berries and how their grandma—
babushka
—makes jam, saving a canister for your grandma. You like how the grandparents never learned much English and you’re forced to remember Russian words you’ve forgotten during the year. Words your father used to say, that your mother never understood. You like that these are your dad’s parents, and that you have them even though you’ll never see your dad again. You like that you spend the summer in a small, two-bedroom cottage where it’s too easy to see what everyone is doing. And you like that for the entire summer, you don’t have to watch your back or think about what’s next. For the whole summer, you can really breathe.

Alex

I
’d rather breathe exhaust fumes than Catskills air, but I go for Katya. I load up the car and wait for Kyle to get his ass downstairs. “Let’s go, loser,” I holler, and my mom shakes her head.

“Can’t you ever cut him any slack?” she says, but I know she wants us out of her hair. A whole summer without the kiddies. A whole summer to bring home any dick she wants.

“Aw, look who’s decided to play mommy,” I say. That went a little far. She takes a step toward me and raises her hand, then quickly puts it down. Yeah, I thought so. I’m wearing short sleeves today, and cross my arms so that she can see the scars from her assholes past. They’re pretty faint, but not when you know where to look. She knows, but she doesn’t.

“Kyle, let’s go,” she says. Her voice is tired. That’s what hours on the pole does.

He finally bounds down the stairs, backpack slung over his shoulder. “Couldn’t leave those SAT words behind for a minute, could you?” I say.

“Shut up, asshole.”

“Did baby brother finally grow a pair?”

This time he ignores me. “See you soon, Mom,” he says and gives her a stiff hug good-bye.

She holds him tight when he tries to pull away, and I swear she tears up. Geez, woman, don’t you have to be around your kids to miss them when they go?

“Later, Mom,” I say. I make no move to hug her, and she hangs back, too.

“Drive safe.” She closes the door but continues to look through the window.

I peel out of the driveway and laugh when the tires screech. Kyle pastes himself to the door and closes his eyes.

“What the fuck is up with
you
?”

“Nothing,” Kyle mumbles and keeps his eyes closed.

“Look, dickwad. It sucks enough that I have to go to this backwards shithole. I don’t need you acting like a pansy the whole way there.” I merge onto the highway and honk at an idiot trying to get into my lane.

Kyle’s eyes snap open. “Why do you always have to be such an asshole?”

“Watch yourself,” I say, and punch him hard in his arm. He winces. I want to tell Kyle he’s lucky to have me to toughen him up. To look out for him. Something I never had. But he wouldn’t get it.

“Why do you hate going to the lake house anyway? All you do is make out with Katie. That can’t suck.”

The phone vibrates in my pocket, and I wonder if that’s her texting. Writing steamy things the two of us can do. A few days ago, she broke her own rule of not contacting me before summer. I guess she figured it was close enough. And thank God for that, because I was going crazy seeing the same chicks day in and day out. Playing their slutty games. Passing the time until I’d see Katya. These girls in Philly could learn from her. She wouldn’t pull their shit, spreading her legs for just anyone. Not like I say no to that—I mean, it’s free pussy. But sometimes it would be good to go where not every prick has been before, know what I mean?

“No, bro. Doesn’t suck,” I say, and smile. “She does, though.”

“Maybe she practices, so she can be extra good.”

I move to hit him but a car swerves in front of me and we avoid a massive collision. I turn my eyes back to the road and Kyle lets out a breath. Lucky break. He takes a book out of his backpack and starts reading, and I peek at my phone:
MISS YOU <3
.

Sweet and simple.

So why do I hate going there? Maybe because it’s boring as all hell. Maybe because I hate when people are stuck in some past century. Maybe because I have to speak Russian because no one bothered to learn English. It’s like my dad is laughing from heaven (hell?), telling me I can never let him go. The words are a reminder. My grandparents—his parents—are a reminder. The only one who seems to have moved on is my mother. Moved on way before he croaked. I hate that. How did she get to be so lucky?

Someone honks behind me and I realize I’ve slowed down below the speed limit. I’ve become
that
asshole. My phone vibrates again, and I gun the gas.

Katie

Dad spends the drive making small talk

He wants me to play trivia games

I’d rather text Sasha, remind him what he’s
been missing

Julie plays

Face contorted in thought

Glances at Mom for a reaction

But Mom is fixating on me

Eyes trying/prying to see my text

As usual

Caring too much

We hit traffic

Mom falls asleep

Julie takes out a book of word puzzles

And completes one after another

She laughs about the best ones with Dad

They don’t include me

I close my eyes and seek out traffic-free paths

I feel Dad’s eyes on me

I open mine in time to see him wink

I smile and

He guns the gas

Finally, I’m here

I feel the difference the second my sandals touch
the dirt road

Little pebbles find their way back into my shoes

And I don’t kick my feet to get them out

I inhale

It’s only here

I can really breathe

Julie

~
The Lake House
~

W
ord around the lake houses is that Kyle and Alex are coming in two days. Their grandparents are psyched, making and buying all their favorite foods. Katie and I are by the creek behind the cottages again, skipping stones in the moonlight. It’s what she does when she has Alex on the brain.

Katie is smiling as she throws another stone across the water. She closes her eyes and puckers her lips. What is it like to have a boy so gaga over you? Alex doesn’t even know the real her. I mean, he thinks she’s Miss Perfection, Miss Purity. Well, he better hold on to that sash, because Katie is not that perfect. Someone perfect would not chase boys that her sister likes—especially not Derek, my first kiss. Yep, one day he was tripping over himself to kiss my lips; a month later, the GPS went haywire and directed his lips to Katie’s.

I thought he’d be different. I thought
she
was different. I mean, she helped me get ready for him, gave me her favorite lip-gloss. For what? I wonder if that’s why she kicked extra high when they called his name on the court. Not for me, like she pretended, but for her.

I don’t play pretend like Katie. If Derek stuck around long enough, he’d have seen the
real
me. I wouldn’t act all sunny sunny happy happy if I wasn’t, like Katie always does—moping, and then playing Miss Sunshine when she puts on her cheerleading skirt. But I guess that’s what he wants. All the boys back home want that. They want perfect. They want a Katie. Not even a Katie,
my
Katie.

“Yulya,” Katie calls from the rocks, “throw stones with me.”

She skims a small rock on the water and it plops-plops-plops across in perfect little circles and splashes. My rock doesn’t create delicate sprays. It lands in the water with a big splash.

“Try holding your hand like this,” Katie says, gently turning my wrist and throwing the stone with me. Two plops, small spray. “See?”

“Yep.” I jerk my hand back too roughly, throwing her off balance. She slips and cuts her toe, and it bleeds into the water.

“Shit, Julie. What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t want her to fall. It was an accident. Wasn’t it?