A. Jackson: Come to Me Quietly

She frowned when she looked up and found the expression on my face. She rocked back before she appeared to shake off the jolt of confusion she felt at my reaction. “You want another beer?”

“That’d be good,” I said, my tone hard. It was always the same. They always fucking wanted to touch, to know, to dig. I didn’t go there. Ever.

She nodded and turned away.

With an elbow on either side of my plate, I wrapped my hands around the huge burger and leaned in to take a bite. It tasted like heaven. I suppressed a groan. It’d been way too many hours since I’d had something to eat. I popped a fry in my mouth and went in to take another bite when in my periphery I sensed someone come to a standstill. He started to pass, but hesitated again before he stopped. Out of the corner of my eye, I kept a watch on him. All I could see were his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, like he was trying to make a decision about something. I didn’t acknowledge him, just focused on this fucking delicious burger and hoped the dude got some common sense and walked away before he got his ass beat.

He came in closer to the bar and cocked his head around to look at me. “Jared?”

My head snapped up to take in this guy who was really fucking tall, and even though he was lankier than shit, it was pretty clear he could go a round or two. His black hair was wild and sticking up all over the place, and his dark green eyes were wide with shock. He dropped onto the barstool next to me, staring at me like I was some sort of apparition.

I was pretty sure we were each having about the exact same effect on the other. For a minute every muscle in my body froze, my mouth gaping, before the shock wore off. Then I laughed and grabbed a napkin and wiped it across my mouth as I spun my stool toward him. “Well, shit, if it isn’t Christopher Moore. How the hell are you, man?”

A thousand memories pushed to the forefront of my mind. I could see them all there, too, flickering across his face.

Christopher and I had been thicker than blood. He’d been both my best friend and the brother I never had.

A smile erupted on his face and he shook his head. “I’m good… really good.” He blinked as if he still couldn’t believe I was there. “How have you been?” His tone shifted, grew heavy as he leaned with one elbow on the bar, facing me. His attention shot from my face to my hands fidgeting on my lap and back up to my face again. He sat back, his brow pinching together. “Where have you been, Jared? I mean… I haven’t heard from you in years. Why… ” He wrenched his hand through his hair, unable to complete the question, his voice trailing off.

What the hell was I supposed to say? Christopher had written me all these bullshit letters saying none of it was my fault, that everything would be okay, that he got it, but he got nothing . How could he? I was the one who lay in my cell at night with the pictures of what I’d done burned in my mind. When I closed my eyes, they were the only thing I saw. And it was most definitely my fault . I never returned any of his letters, never called, never let any of them know where I went once I was released. I didn’t need Christopher or anyone else to feed me lies, to try to convince me one day I’d heal or some fucking garbage like that. Maybe my heart beat on, but I died the day she did.

I trained my voice, acted casual. “I’ve been working up in New Jersey the last few years. I was able to save up some money, so it’s been good.”

He pressed his lips together. “And when did you get back?” he asked, although I heard the question. Why are you back? I was glad he didn’t ask because I didn’t fucking know.

“About a week ago.”

Lily showed up in front of us with a fresh beer and began wiping down the counter. Her gaze landed on Christopher. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thanks, I’m good.” He waved her off and turned back to me. “Where are you staying?”

I sipped at my beer. “I’ve been staying at this shitty motel while I look for an apartment… across town.”

For a second he worked his mouth in consideration. He released a breath and cocked his head to the side. “Why don’t you come stay with me while you look? It’d be cool to catch up. It has to suck to be living in a motel.”

“Nah, man, I couldn’t impose like that.”

“It’s not imposing. You’re like family.”

Internally I cringed at his assertion. Yeah, maybe I’d been like family once. Not anymore.

Christopher reached over, grabbed my beer, and drained half of it. I stifled a laugh. The guy hadn’t changed at all. Christopher was notorious for borrowing stuff. If I was ever missing anything, I knew where to find it.

“Help yourself,” I muttered as I waved my hand at my beer, and he just smirked.

“Anyway… ” He tipped the bottle in my direction as if in thought, working something out. “I have a place I share with Aly. It’s just a few miles away. You’ll have to sleep on the couch, but it’s got to be better than living out of a motel. This is really cool… .” He nodded as if he were trying to convince himself this wasn’t a really bad idea. “I’m glad you’re back. It will be good to catch up… ,” he rambled on before he slowed. He must have read the surprise on my face.

Aly is his roommate?

“Our parents and Augustyn still live in the old neighborhood, but when Aly decided to go to ASU, we figured it’d be cool if she lived with me since we’re going to the same school. She moved in a couple of years ago… right after she graduated from high school,” he added as if to clear up my confusion.

If anything, it grew.

He just laughed. “Jared… she’s twenty years old.”

I tried to work it out in my head, the little black-haired girl who’d followed us around like we were the greatest things in the world while we teased her relentlessly. Still I would’ve killed for her. A grin fought for release when I thought of her knobby knees and buckteeth. By the time she was twelve, she was so tall and gangly she could barely stand on her two awkward feet. The last time I saw Christopher’s sister, she must’ve been about fourteen, but that year was just a blur. I couldn’t even picture her at that age.

I smiled lightly and shook my head. “No shit?”

“Man, you’ve been gone for six years. What’d you expect? To come back here and everything would be the same?”

I didn’t know what I expected.

Christopher let me off the hook with an easy grin. “It’s really good to have you back, Jared.” He stood and tossed a twenty on the bar, then clapped me on the back. “Thanks for the beer. Now go grab your shit. You’re coming back to my place.”

Christopher gave me his address, and I rode across town to the motel to get the few things I had, then headed back. It had to be getting close to midnight. Traffic was light, and the trip took me less than ten minutes. Their apartment was in Tempe right near ASU. I turned right into their driveway and up to the gate, then entered the code Christopher had given me. It swung open, allowing me entry into the huge complex. Large three-story buildings were situated around the property, and sidewalks surrounded by trimmed grass and small shrubs lined the walkways. I didn’t get impressed by material shit, and it wasn’t like this was the foothills or anything, but it was a thousand times better than the hole I’d been staying in since I got into town a week ago.

Why I let Christopher talk me into coming here I wasn’t sure. I’d come to Phoenix without intentions, without expectations, only with the few meager belongings I could strap to my back and this foreign need in the pit of my stomach.