“You don’t want to go to therapy anymore, so you get me instead,” Devin says. He is wearing white painter pants covered in red paint and I think strangely of blood. His shirt is white, too, and I think ironically of how I chose black shorts and a tank top to wear to see him and how it was reflective of how we are – him the eternal optimist, and me the dark and brooding one. “My lease is up and my rent is ridiculous for what I get. Your apartment could easily be abandoned and your lease broken and you could save the money you spend on it to do something else. Maybe you could buy a real bed or something. You could quit your job and go back to school…if that’s what you want to do,” he adds, realizing that he is listing off his ideal sister, not what I feel I’m actually capable of doing. But everything he’s saying isn’t out of left field; I’ve already considered all of these possibilities, including an actual bed. “And selfishly, I’m tired of being alone and could use the company.”
Oh, he’s getting to me. I know how Devin is. He gets weird about being alone for too long. He works too hard, he comes home, he paints, he doesn’t talk to people for days at a time. He’s let people he knows come live with him in an attempt to be more social and it’s done nothing for him except allow him to be endlessly fucked over by assholes and moochers who take advantage of the fact that he makes decent money and is never home to know what’s going on in his own apartment. “If we move, we’ll be in the suburbs,” I say. “I can’t get to work easily from the suburbs, and you know I can’t drive.”
“I don’t want you working at that place anymore,” Devin says quietly. I can feel something from him. It’s like he wants to explode just thinking about it. “I hate that people watch you do that. I hate that you’re trapped in that cage for hours. I think about how people look at you in there, Jenna. It pisses me off. You’re better than that.”
I say nothing as I sip my espresso. The hair on the back of my neck feels damp and I consider cutting it all off this summer, but it’s a passing thought that’s distracting me from making an actual decision. Devin looks flustered. He wants this to work, I can tell, and I suddenly don’t want to disappoint him. “Okay, okay,” I say. “I’ll do it. I’ll quit my fucking job and live in the suburbs and slowly die inside just to make you happy.”
“Stop it,” he says, looking like he wants to grin and I feel a strong urge to slap the stifled smile off his face. “Let’s do this. Jack’s house is big enough for the two of us to live without getting in each other’s way. I can make the third bedroom a studio. The one with the closet so I can stash supplies in there.” I nod, wondering what’s in it for me. Devin is getting excitedly animated. “Do you think maybe you’d like to enroll at Morgan College for some classes?”
I shrug, not knowing what to think. “How will I get there, Devin?”
“Get your license, Jenna,” Devin says. “Jack’s car can be yours. I have my bike. I could use the car if I need to transport something to a gallery.”
“Sure,” I say. “Whatever you want, Devin.”
Devin reaches for my hand but I snatch mine away. He looks less excited and sad and I feel guilty, even though I did it on purpose. It’s like I enjoy manipulating how he feels. “It’s going to be good, Jenna,” he says quietly. “You’ll see.”
But I don’t see. All I can think about is how we’re going to be in Jack’s house. It’s not the same house we grew up in but it still feels like Jack. We went and looked around earlier in the week. Everything about it had a freaky familiar feeling. The thing that bothers me the most is that Jack lives the same way I do. No bed, just a mattress. Not much furniture other than the necessities. Ashtrays still overflowing with cigarette butts. The idea that his spit was still lingering on them made me sick. “We’ll have the place cleaned out before we move in,” Devin had said, already assuming that I would agree. He was definitely living there with or without me. Also, living with my brother at my age? Am I dooming both of us into never meeting anyone who would be a permanent part of our lives? What girl would want to date a man who lives with his sister? Didn’t Devin want to get married one day and have a family? I’m the reason he can’t seem to be a normal guy with a girlfriend or wife. The guilt is overwhelming sometimes. He never blames me outright, but I feel like if Devin had a normal sister he wouldn’t have to be permanently looking out for me. He tells me all of the time that it’s not a bother and that he doesn’t care. And I know it’s not my fucking fault. Normal people come from normal childhoods. But still.