Page 112 of Someone Like Me
I lay a hand on top of his. “I think it’s human. How else could you possibly feel?” I want to comfort him, and at the same time, I’m so moved he trusted me enough to tell me all this.
Drew’s brow arches in a perfect slope. “I told you that to make you feel better,” he says, giving me a half smile, turning his hand over so mine rests in his hold. “Not for you to try to make me feel better.”
I bite my lip. “I—”
“I know, Guppy,” he says, his eyes glinting again. “You’re just doing what you do. Always trying to give someone your light. I get it. And it helps.”
My eyes bug. “It does?”
He sniffs a laugh. “Of course it does. Even taking that damn sheet off that stuff makes it easier. Takes away its power, maybe.”
If he tells me more, will it give him even more peace? I want that for him. I’d do anything to give that to him.
“Tell me about Anthony.”
I watch his chest rise and fall, and his gaze lowers, but his non-smile is in place, so I don’t think he minds me asking. He rises, crosses the room again, grabs the picture frames, and comes back to me, sitting beside me again. He hands me the frames, and I come face to face with a younger Drew.
In one picture he’s standing with a guy who could only be his brother. Drew’s hair is shagging, falling into his eyes, but he’s smiling. His brother is looking at him, one arm slung over Drew’s shoulders. I can see love in his eyes. Anthony loved his little brother.
In the other, Drew, Anthony, and their little sister Annie sit on the edge of what looks like houseboat, all of their legs dangling in the water. None of them look into the camera. Instead, each is laughing, Annie covering her mouth, but her brothers laugh with open mouths, eyes squeezed shut. The pictures make me smile, but I get how painful they must be for Drew.
When I lift my gaze to his, his eyes are full of meaning. “He was the best, but he wasn’t perfect.” He says this as though it’s crucial I understand.
“Of course he wasn’t perfect,” I say, and I’m glad I do because some of the intensity I read in his eyes eases. “What made him so human?”
His breath comes out in an amused huff. “He put up with my shit way too much.”
It feels safe to, so I tease him. “I think that would make him superhuman.”
He puts on a withering look, but he’s trying not to laugh. “You know, Guppy, my brother would have really liked you.”
“Well, of course he would have,” I say coyly, but the thought makes me sad. For Drew. For Anthony. For me. I look down at the young man in the pictures and wish I’d had the chance to know him. “I’m sorry. You were trying to say something important. What do you mean he put up with too much shit?”
Drew watches me for a moment, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. He takes one of the curls that has fallen over my shoulder in his grip and gently tugs it straight and long. He releases it, and it springs back in place. He captures it again and rubs it between his thumb and forefinger. Slowly. Lovingly.
If he needs more time to tell me all this, he can have it.
“He let me get away with everything,” he says, still looking at the curl he’s holding. “He should have beat my ass the first time I stole anything.”
“How old were you the first time?” I ask.
His look goes grim. “Fourteen.” He’s searching my face for shock. Or disgust. But he won’t find either. “I broke into a neighbor’s car. The guy had left his wallet in the center console. I stole $200 and his Usher CD.”
I can’t help it. I smile and he smiles back. “I know, right? Driven to a life of crime by ‘Yeah!’”
“Hey, nobody can listen to that song without moving,” I defend.
Drew rolls his eyes, but his grin stretches. “When I told him, Anthony said to take it back.” He shakes his head and looks away. “I would’ve done it, but I was more afraid of getting caught on the return trip. So I offered him half the cash, and I guess that was too tempting because he took it.”
“And that’s how it started? You sharing what you… took?”
“The first time,” he says with a nod. “But what really got me was the rush I’d feel. The hit of adrenaline. The euphoria of being where I knew I shouldn’t be… And just doing what I wanted.”
His eyes lock with mine as he says this, and I stay quiet, wanting him to feel safe to tell it all.
“I told Anthony about that. The feeling. And he wanted to try with me.” Drew swallows, guilt etching his every feature.
“Did he feel it? That rush?”
