Summer Nights

The next day was inevitably horrible. Emma and I shed a few tears as we said goodbye to the beach, and then, after placing the suitcases in the cars, we got Fuzz and Giovanni. I was tired and slightly sore from the day before, and once we were in the car I fell in and out of sleep. When I woke up, it was silent, except for the radio in the background. I felt totally awkward about Jake again, but I don’t know if he noticed. He seemed tired too, and his face was kind of pale. We stopped for lunch at a Pizza Hut, but the mood didn’t improve. The guys tried and failed to cheer us up, and when the food finally came we used it as an excuse for being unable to talk.
On the way back home, Jake tried to be a gentleman again and he held my hand. However, my palm soon became sickeningly warm and sweaty. I pretended I needed to scratch my head, and I hoped he got the hint. He didn’t, and when I brought my hand back down, he enveloped it again. He smiled at me at a stoplight, and I wondered why I was being like this. I decided I was just being selfish, and that I needed to stop thinking I needed ‘alone time’ or whatever the hell was happening with me. So I forced myself to smile back, and I leaned against his shoulder. Again, after taking this step to relax, I began to feel comfortable with Jake.
Still, when we finally arrived back home and unpacked our stuff, I was kind of glad to say ‘goodbye’ to Jake. I hated myself for it.
Leaving our suitcases at our house, I climbed into the car with Braxton and Emma, to drive her home. We discussed meeting tomorrow over some coffee at the local diner. We arrived at her house soon after that was settled.
Braxton walked her to the doorway and kissed her goodbye. I rolled my eyes and waved to her. Finally, Braxy came back.
A couple of minutes of silence passed, until Braxton finally spoke. “What’s wrong, Wynter?”
“Nothing,” I said uncomfortably. I turned up the radio, which was playing Ram Jam’s ‘Black Betty’.
He reached for the on/off button and pressed it roughly. It clicked. Silence filled the car. “Come on, Wyn. I’m your brother. I know when you’re down, and don’t tell me it’s just because we left the beach, because we’ve been on vacations before and you’re never this down.”
“It’s just…” I hesitated, not knowing what I could tell him. Way to finally be perceptive, Bro.
“Is it about me and Emma?”
“No…Yes – a little bit, maybe,” I stumbled.
He grinned. “Nice answer. But you don’t have to worry. She told me she’s talked to you and that you’re okay with it, but I guess you’re-”
“No, no, don’t get me wrong, you two are perfect for each other, but…how would you like it if I hooked up with one of your friends…like Vaughn, for example?” I asked, treading into dangerous territory.
“Well, I wouldn’t like it at first, mainly because all of my friends are messed up idiots,” he said, flashing his grin at me.
I chuckled. I mumbled, “You can say that again.”
Suddenly, he looked suspicious. “Why? You’re not thinking about hooking up with Vaughn, are you? The guy’s a fucking idiot.”
I burst out laughing. “Vaughn? Ew, no, I was just using him as…as an example. So you would be okay with it?”
“I mean, I would have to be, or I would be a hypocrite, right?”
“Yeah, but when have you ever not been one?”
“Shut up,” my brother said, and he punched me gently in the shoulder.
“Watch the road, you ass,” I said, laughing.
He placed his right arm over my shoulder and gave me a one-handed hug. “We hate each other, but we love each other, right, Wyn?”
I nodded. “Yeah, you’re my worst best-bro.”
“And you’re my best worst-sis. I would never do anything to purposely hurt you.”
I nodded, enjoying this brief display of emotion from my brother. He barely touched me; usually he even hated hugging me. “You know,” I started, trying to express this in words, “you should hook up with my friends more often if you’re going to be so nice to me.”
He pushed me away. “Get away from me, bitch,” he said, laughing.
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Suck it.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re so immature.”
I scoffed, laughing. “Look who’s talking!” I said, shaking my head.
“But seriously,” he said, and his face grew somber, “is that all that’s on your mind?”
I hesitated. “Yes.”

“…are you fucking crazy?” someone shouted.
I turned over in my bed and grabbed the nearest pillow, placing it over my ear.
But the damage was done. I was awake.
“How could you fucking not tell me?”
“Calm down, Braxton. It’s not like it’s the end of the world.”
“It could be! For you! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, Jacob!”
“You’re not my fucking mom! Don’t make this about you!”
“Why even tell me now?” my brother roared.
I’d sat up, trying to tune my ears to the conversation. My eyes were wide open in the darkness, and my eyes flashed to the watch. It was ten thirty. I’d fallen asleep at six after coming back from dropping off Emma.
There was a pause, and then Jacob said something I couldn’t make out. The conversation resumed, but I couldn’t make out their words, as they were no longer screaming.
I hopped off my bed and out of my room. I headed towards my brother’s room, but there was no sound coming out of it. I placed hands on the door and then leaned my ear against it.
Suddenly, the door opened and I stumbled forward.
“Uh,” I said, caught red-handed by Jake. He rolled his eyes, obviously pissed. He almost pushed me out of the way, except I jumped in the last moment.
As he left the room, I looked inside to see Braxton. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands.
“What the fuck did you do?” I screamed at him.
“I didn’t do anything! He just fucking told me he has cancer!” Braxton yelled back.
I flinched. Calmer, I said, “Look, it’s not his fault he didn’t tell-”
“My god, you knew? You knew and you didn’t tell me?” Braxton shouted.
“Calm down!”
“No! Why am I always the fucking last to know?”
“You’re such a fucking prick, that’s why! Look! Look at how you’re making this about yourself! It’s not his fault. He knew if he would tell you would have this reaction one way or another. He was just postponing it! God, you’re so selfish! Can’t you see he’s the one that’s in trouble now? You just pushed him away when he fucking needs you most!” I stormed out of the room, not wanting to argue with him anymore. This whole conversation had taken less than a minute, and now I rushed downstairs to the basement to see if Jake had left yet. He was putting his suitcase in his trunk. Just as I entered, he shut it, and he came towards me. I thought he wanted to say something to me, to communicate in some way, but he just reached over to the garage button that was on the side of where I was. He pressed it and the giant door began to slide open.
“Jake-” I began.
“Save it, Wynter,” he muttered.
“No, Jake, just don’t mind Braxton-”
“Don’t mind Braxton? Oh, you mean that fucking guy I call my best friend?” he scoffed and opened the door to his beat up car. “Whatever, I’m out of here.”
“No, wait, Jake!” I protested, but he got in and slammed the car door shut. The car’s engine rumbled to life, and before I knew what I was doing, I was sitting in the passenger’s seat. The car had been backing out, and, miraculously, I’d managed to sneak inside while it had been moving. Now, out of the garage and halfway down the driveway, Jake turned to me. “What the fuck are you doing?” he shouted.
“Jake, please, calm down.”
“No! Get the fuck out of my fucking car!” he roared. He had turned towards me, and I noticed his eyes were red-rimmed and that his neck vein was strained out of anger.
“No, not until you calm down, Jake,” I shouted back.
“Wynter, get the fuck out, you fucking bitch!” he responded even louder.
I flinched, holding back my tears and outrage. I gulped. “No,” I whispered.
Surprising me, he suddenly slumped against the steering wheel, losing his strength. He placed his head on his hands, and before I knew what was happening (I know, I know, I admit, I was a bit slow), his shoulders started shaking. It took me a while to realize he was crying.
I was stunned. Jake always changed moods so quickly. I shook my head, trying to keep up. Finally, I realized I had to console him somehow. I placed my hand gently on his back, but he shrugged it off. I reached forward and hugged his torso, holding on tight. He moved, turning towards me, and I thought he was going to push me away again. I was surprised yet again when instead, he wrapped his arms around me, almost suffocating me. He dug his head into my hair, neck, and shoulder.
He mumbled, “I’m so sorry, Wyn. I’m sorry. I’m afraid. I’m just really afraid.”
“It’s okay, Jake. Seriously,” I said, realizing I was crying too, “everything’s going to be alright. When is the operation going to be?”
“The day after tomorrow. And not operation. They’re going to try chemo first.”
I froze. That was so fucking soon...
Right now…It was the perfect time to say it, since it could be one of our last days together. I had to. ‘I love you,’ I chanted in my mind. ‘I love you.’
“Jake, I-”
Suddenly, Jacob’s Pearl Jam’s ‘Corduroy’ ringtone interrupted us. He pulled back from me, wiping his eyes on his sleeve and avoiding making eye contact with me. He took out his cell phone, looked at the caller ID and hesitated.
“Hello?” he finally said, after pressing the talk button.
There was a significant pause, while I tried to understand what the person he was on the phone with – I was pretty sure it was Braxton – was saying.
“Yeah…It’s okay, I guess.” Another silence. “I’m still there. Okay, yeah. No, probably not. We’ll talk later, okay? I can’t right now. I think I’m going to go get some coffee. I’ll call you when things chill.” He shut the phone and wiped his eyes again.
“Braxton?” I asked.
There was a small hesitation before he said, “Yes.”
Afterwards we both stared out the windshield.
Finally, I spoke again. “Are you coming back inside?”
“Yeah. I just…later, okay? I want to go get some coffee or something from Starbucks.”
I’d been reaching for the doorknob, but now I settled back in my seat. I didn’t ask him if it would be alright to drink coffee. He was a big guy, and it would only get him pissed again. “Oh, okay. But I’m still in my pajamas. Can you…” Then, after glancing at his face, I realized that he didn’t want me to go with him.
He brushed a hand over his face, eyes swimming with guilt. “I just need to be alone for a while, Wyn. Thanks for coming after me, though,” he said, after seeing my face.
“It’s okay,” I said, rearranging my features. “I understand.” I’d wanted some alone time myself just yesterday or so…but wasn’t that different? I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “I-I’ll see you later, I guess. Drive safe, Jake.”
“Okay.” His smile was obviously forced. “Bye.”
I didn’t understand why he was so cold all of a sudden. He’d been spilling his guts on me; I’d thought we were having a moment. I’d been about to tell him that I loved him. Which was stupid. I didn’t even know what love was. Hell, a week wasn’t enough to fall in love. This definitely wasn’t love. I didn’t feel safe with him when he was yelling at me and calling me a bitch. He wasn’t reliable when he could die at any second because of his stupid cancer. Why the hell had I even let myself progress with this crush?
I shook my head again. “Bye,” I said, before stepping out of the car and closing the door behind me. As soon as it clicked, he was out of the driveway and down the road. He was gone within the blink of an eye.

When I went back inside, Braxton was in the kitchen, a beer in his hand. He looked up at me, surprised. “I thought you left with him.”
“No…What did you tell him?” I asked, suddenly angry. It was his fault that Jake had had another mood swing.
“What do you mean?”
“On the phone. What did you say on the phone?”
“On what phone? What? Could we be more specific, please?” he asked, eyebrows raised in confusion.
“Didn’t you just call Jake?” I clarified, a sickening feeling starting to sprout in my stomach.
“No,” he scoffed. “You know, he could have told me earlier.” He took a swig from his beer.
“I regret making such a big fuss out of this now, but you would have had the same reaction if Emma would have told you some big secret she had been holding from you.” He paused. “And don’t say our relationship, because you found out about that the day after.” He scoffed. “Jake is so melodramatic.”
“No he’s not. He fucking has cancer. And you’re just an ass,” I spat.
I barely caught his shocked expression in the kitchen mirror as I turned. Within seconds I was in my room, under the covers, praying I could fall asleep again. But one question kept flitting across my mind.
Who’d been on the phone with Jake?
I think I knew who it was, but I refused to believe it.