A soft touch caresses my cheek. Jasmine, Marty’s girl. He’s gone with her for a while, but I just met her for the first time that night. It’s her couch I fell asleep on when the party downstairs went late. I had my first junior high football practice that afternoon and eventually the exhaustion caught up with me.

“He’s gorgeous, Marty. You said he was good looking, and you were right. His eyes are so beautiful it hurts to look at them. They’re deep blue, just like the ocean. His hair is so soft.”

“Yeah, it’s soft all right. Sticks up all over the place unless he puts axel grease on it. I’d know—mine’s the same way, just, darker... Poor kid’s so pretty I wonder half the time if he’d be better off a girl.”

She giggles, and it sounds like she smacks him. “Oh, you’re evil. God spent a lot of time making your little brother perfect and you’re mean to him! He’s just a baby.”

“I know he’s a baby. Mom babies him all the time. Somebody’s gotta make a man out of him. Besides, I’m not mean to him. Mean would be letting him stay ignorant. Kid’s supposed to be some sort of book genius, but he’s got no street smarts. He wouldn’t last twenty minutes out in the world without me. I’ve gotta meet him after practice in the afternoons so no one beats him up while walks home.”

“You think he’ll go to college, like your brother?”

I wait for Marty’s response, insatiably curiousto knowwhat he thinks my future might hold.

“He could go to college, if he survives high school. Mom’s hell-bent on getting him away from me, and on to higher education. She don’t understand. The only thing anyone around here cares about is whether or not a guy can kick their ass.”

“Well, he doesn’t have to worry about that, does he? Not with his big brother taking care of him.”

“Yeah, I don’t let other people beat on him. That’s my job. As long as I’m around, he won’t have to worry.”

---

“Just curious, John, but why do you play daddy to that kid?”

Randy startles me. I turn quickly to see him standing just inside the back screen door, his frame outlined by the light inside the house. I turn away again, taking out a pack of cigs and lighting up.

I’d tucked Travis into the spare bed in my room and snuck outside for a little peace after the silent tension at dinner.

I hardly ever smoke, the pack wasn’t even mine; I just carry one around for my friends, because most of them aren’t eighteen yet.

I light up to degrade myself in Randy’s eyes. I want him to look at me and see a juvenile delinquent not worthy of wasting his time on.

“He reminds me of my brother,” I say, blatantly barbing him. “I play uncle to him, by the way. If I was playing daddy I’d be banging his mother.”

“He doesn’t look much like Martin to me, Johnny. I’m not saying I blame Jasmine Alonso for saying he fathered her baby; it was the convenient thing to do at the time. She hasn’t begged money off mom, and from what I’ve heard she’s slowly putting her life together, doing all right for herself.”

“What do you care how she’s doing? Travis wouldn’t let me put him down at dinner because you and mom scare him. He’s smart—he can tell neither of you like him. That’s really sad, you know, because he’s our blood. Just because you don’t believe it doesn’t change the fact.”

“Don’t you think Marty would’ve known if his girlfriend was three months pregnant? You were with him all the time. Why didn’t he tell you about it?”

I shrug. “You know Marty. He keeps stuff close to the vest. Nothing bothers him. If he knew, he probably didn’t think it was a big deal. Not big enough to go around telling everyone, anyway.”

Randy comes over and sits down beside me on the cold steps. I stiffen, but he doesn’t notice. “Martin’s dead, you know. Mom said one of your teachers called about a paper you wrote. She’s concerned because you still talk about him like he’s alive,” he says, sounding all concerned.

I recoil a bit, blowing smoke in his general direction. “So, what? You’re saying I’m crazy?” I demand. “Mom won’t even say Marty’s fucking name, and you think I’m crazy?”

“Calm down, John.”

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down! What, you think you can walk in here and tell me to calm down when I get pissed off? You ain’t shit around here, Randy! I don’t even know you! You walked out of this house when I was eight years old. You think a college education makes you better than me? Better than Travis? The only thing anyone around here cares about is if you can kick their ass. So unless you can kick my ass, don’t fucking tell me to calm down!”

“Is that what it would take? If I beat you to a pulp you’d sit there and hear me out?”

“Hear you out on what? There’s nothing for you to say to me!”

“Isn’t there?” he asks, stopping my tirade before I have the chance to really get it rolling. “I thought we might talk about what you’re going to do with yourself next year, assuming you manage to graduate from high school in the spring. Have you spent any time thinking about it?”

I hadn’t thought about it. Okay, so I had. I just didn’t come to any conclusions when I did. My grades sucked, so a big time university was out. Community college might work for me, but I’d have to move away from mom and Travis to go to one. I figured I could wait until Jasmine got her online degree before I did anything. In a few years she’d probably be able to afford fulltime child care and wouldn’t need me anymore. In the meantime, I figured I’d work. Maybe Chuck and I would split rent on an apartment.

I get to my feet, dropping my cigarette near his pant leg, grinding it out with my tennis shoe.“Get bent,” I tell him, hopping down the stairs to the ground and stalking off into the night.