“I thought you liked her.”
“She’s a slut, Levi. So what’s up?”
“Just checking on you.”
There was a pause. “Thanks,” she said, her voice small.
“I need advice,” he said, surprising himself.
“Really?” Her tone was much happier all of a sudden. “Why? Did Faith dump your sorry ass?”
“No,” Levi said, a smile threatening. “I’m just wondering if I want to be...I don’t know. Runner-up.” He winced, not sure he should be telling his sister this.
“Why would you be runner-up? Oh, the Jeremy thing! Right! I got it.” There was a rustle. “Tell me everything.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Is she still hung up on him?”
Levi hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“Ask her.”
“Right.”
“Do it, dummy! Just ask her. Then kiss the stuffing out of her, and she’ll definitely pick you. Straight trumps gay every time.”
Levi laughed. “Got it. How are you? Doing okay?”
She sighed so hard it practically ruffled his hair. “Am I allowed to say no?”
He hesitated. “You’re still adjusting, that’s all. You’ll love college before long.”
“Whatever.”
“Not whatever, Sarah. You have to give it some effort, though.” He tried to think of what Faith would say. “It’s okay to be homesick. But don’t let that take away all the good things.” There. That sounded pretty good.
“Whatever, Sigmund. I have to study.” Her voice was deflated.
He sighed. “Okay. You’re smart, you’ll do great.”
“Thanks.” Barely a grunt now.
He hung up, bemused. College was supposed to help with her grief, not make it worse. He didn’t like knowing she was lonely.
A sign told him he’d driven out of Manningsport, across the little stretch of Osskill and into the town of Bryer. Looked like his subconscious had taken him for a little ride. A left at the intersection, two miles down, a right. This was the fourth time he’d been here. Funny how familiar the drive was.
Nice neighborhood, built in the late sixties. Ranches and Capes, big yards, smallish houses, all very wholesome. Great place for trick-or-treating, unlike the trailer park, where things could be a little dicey. When he was seven, Jessica’s dad had offered him a can of Pabst. From then on, Levi’s mom had driven him and Jess into the Village on Halloween. That had ended when they were nine. They’d each just happily accepted a regular-sized Mr. Goodbar (his favorite) and were leaving the porch of the giant old Vic when a voice came from the window. “Who was it?” the man asked.
The woman—Mrs. Thomas—answered, her voice sharp, “It was a couple of those trailer park kids. I wish their parents wouldn’t drive them here. They take advantage.”
Levi’s face had grown hot, and Jess...Jess had looked as if someone had just punched her in the stomach. Without thinking, he’d thrown his candy bar in the bushes, then hers. Taken her pillowcase and dumped it all right there, then did the same with his, even though the McCormicks had been really nice, complimenting him on the zombie makeup and telling him he’d almost given them a heart attack, he was so scary. They’d told Jess she looked beautiful.
Mrs. Thomas had broken her hip last spring, falling as she got out of the shower, and Levi had knelt on the floor next to her, the first person on the scene. He’d covered her up with a bathrobe so the firefighters wouldn’t see her naked, and she’d cried as he did it, telling him he was so kind. He told her not to worry, wondering if she realized that the kind cop had once been one of those trailer park urchins who used up the treats meant for better kids.
Levi slowed the cruiser, then pulled over. There was the house, a dark blue ranch with rhododendrons and a big maple tree, complete with swing. Lights were on in the living room, shining through the big window. A child’s bike lay next to the mailbox, half on the street.
There was his father’s wife, coming into the living room, handing someone a glass. His father, most likely. Their TV was on. Levi had never met the woman his father had married...only a glimpse of her twice before. She had fluffy blond hair and was on the skinny side.
There were no lights on in the bedrooms, which indicated the boys were asleep. Strange to think he had two half brothers. He’d never met them, didn’t know their names. He’d seen them the first time he’d come down the street, playing in the driveway with their Matchbox cars. They were young. That was about all he could see. He hadn’t parked that time, just kept going, careful not to look too hard.
Levi’s watch beeped. Ten o’clock. He could be with Faith right now, and all of a sudden, the desire to see her closed in on his chest like a vise.
But before he left, he got out of the car, walked over to the bike and moved it so it wouldn’t get run over.
Twenty minutes later, he was back at Jeremy’s enormous house. “Sorry that took so long,” he said.
“Hey. Faith’s asleep,” Jeremy said, pointing.
Sure enough, she was, her head on the couch pillows, a soft-looking blanket over her.
“Is she okay?” he asked, fighting a small pang of jealousy. A movie played softly on TV, something with that famous actress, the one who won all the Oscars.
“Just tired,” Jeremy said. “How was the call? Don’t worry, she sleeps like the dead.”
“I know.” Well, he knew that he could kiss her goodbye in the mornings and not have her so much as stir. Then again, he’d managed to wake her a time or two in the middle of the night, and done his best to make her sleep-deprived.
“Right, right. Of course you do. You want some food? We saved your steak.”
We. “I’m good.” He sat down in the chair, looking at Faith.
“So, are you guys serious?” Jeremy asked softly.
Levi took a breath and held it for a second. “We’ve slept together a couple times, Jeremy.” Six nights of the past eight, spent in the little apartment that looked as if she’d lived there for years.
“She’s not really the type for a casual relationship, you know,” Jeremy said.
“Listen, single gay guy, I can take it from here, okay?” He raised an eyebrow at his friend, who smiled.
“Yeah, I understand. But maybe I could give you a little advice?”
“I’m good.” The questioning look stayed on his friend’s face. “Fine,” Levi said. “Knock yourself out.”
Jeremy adjusted the blanket around Faith’s feet. “Little things mean a lot to her. Tell her she looks pretty or notice if she’s wearing a new dress. Talk to her. Bring her flowers.”
“Flowers. Got it.”
“And don’t be sarcastic. She’s fragile.”
“I actually think she’s pretty tough,” Levi said, his words tight.
“It’s an act.”
“Is that right?”
“I think so. I know her very well.” Jeremy smiled, and for a nanosecond, Levi felt like punching him.
“Well, if the advice portion of the evening is done, I think I’ll take the delicate flower home,” Levi said.
“Sure.