Payback

“It's just a movie,” he replies with a smirk. I roll my eyes and lean my head against the couch. The movie begins and in an instant, I recognize the music. He’s put on some chick flick. The guy with the hot tattoos in a MC watches chick flicks, what the hell?

“Nerd,” I say, grabbing the popcorn.

“What can I say? That chick’s pretty hot.”

“Ok, same rules apply to you. I don't want my ass compared to hers. Got it?”

He laughs and grabs my hand. “Ok, no reference to her great ass, got it.” I smack his arm and rest my head on his shoulder. “You know, Cami, she really doesn't have anything on you.”

At three in the morning, I wake up to find myself lying on his chest, the blue screen of the TV casting a faint light across his face as he sleeps. I slowly wiggle myself out of his grasp and go to the bathroom. My reflection is frightening, so I wash my face and run my fingers through my hair to try and fix the tangled mess. Creeping back into the living room, I notice he is no longer on the couch.

“I'm in here,” he says. I enter his room, and he tosses me a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. “I figured this would be a bit more comfortable for you,” he says with a yawn. Looking at the clothes he's given me, I just laugh. They’re old work out clothes, probably two sizes too big. “I grabbed them out of your top drawer.”

I nod and go into my room to change, folding my clothes and putting them on the hamper. Pulling my hair into a ponytail, I sigh, best I can do, before walking back out.

“Aren't you just cute,” he says with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, crawling onto his bed. Jett turns out the light and crawls in beside me. I lay there staring up at the ceiling, unsure of how I feel about this.

“Is everything ok?” he asks, moving closer.

“Yeah, I’m just thinking about Tommy.”

“Who’s Tommy?”’ Jett asks, and I can feel his eyes on me, even in the darkness.

“Tommy was my baby brother,” I reply,

“Oh. Yeah, I remember now. I knew he passed, but you never really told me the whole story.”

“I know,” I say, feeling the tears begin to slide down my cheeks.

“What happened to him?”

“He died when I was almost eleven, he had leukemia,” I reply in a whisper. The bed shifts as Jett turns towards me, pulling me into his embrace.

“Tell me about him. That is, if you want to.”

“Sure,” I say, facing him. I can't see his face, but I can feel his breath on my shoulder. “He wasn't blood related, but it didn't matter to me, and he was the only sibling I've ever had. Tommy was almost a year old when my parents adopted him. My parents had tried after I was born, because they’d always wanted a big family. From the moment I laid eyes on him I loved him. His bright blue eyes and crooked smile always had a way of tugging on my heartstrings. I would do anything for him, and I do mean anything.

“When he was five, he got really sick. After that, we spent many long nights in the emergency room, trying to figure out the cause. One night, he woke up with a fever of one hundred and six.” I have not thought about that night once since it happened, but Jett made me feel things. Like I needed to be honest with him. And I was, except about the most important piece of my life. Maybe I’m testing him. I don’t even know. “He was hallucinating, and it felt like his skin was on fire. When we got to the hospital, his fever was gone. They were about to send us home with just an antibiotic, but the doctor on duty decided to do one more test, a blood test. His results came back with a very high white blood cell count.”

“Just like that, in a whirlwind, my mother and I were on an ambulance with him heading to the Children's hospital in Birmingham, AL. After being admitted and getting him tons of testing, we got the bad news, cancer. In that moment everything changed. With my mom being unable to work and my dad having to carry everything, we lost our house. As his health declined, they begin to withdraw and turn to other things for comfort.

“My mom began to drink heavily and my dad turned to alcohol as well. I became the scapegoat for all their issues. At that time it was never physical, only emotional. It wasn't till after he died it got worse.

“The treatments had quit working and the only option left was a bone marrow transplant. Since we were not blood related, none of us were a match. For months, we waited and hoped, but no one was found. Three days before his eighth birthday, his little body gave out. One by one, his systems shut down. I was with him when he took his final breath.

“Everyone else left, they couldn’t take it, but I couldn't just leave him there. I couldn't bear to leave him alone. A final kiss on his cheek was all I was allowed before the nurses ushered me out.”

I hear Jett’s breath catch as he starts to speak. “I'm so sorry,” he says, kissing my forehead, and I can feel the dampness on his cheeks. He’s worthy of Ella, I know he is.

We lie there holding each other in silence until sleep finally comes.

25

Jett

As I process everything Cami has told me, my heart breaks for her. From her brother's death to the abuse at the hands of those who were supposed to love her, I feel an overwhelming need to protect her regardless of the consequences. I shouldn’t have left her from the start. I should have been there, then none of this would have happened.