“Angela’s stepbrother served six years in Georgia for hot-wiring a car and driving it around the block. Only, right before he got it back, he got stopped because one of the taillights was out. He freaked and the cops thought he seemed suspicious so they pulled him out of the car and searched it. There was an unlicensed gun in the glove compartment and he had an ounce of weed on him. He was charged with grand theft auto, possession of an unlicensed firearm—even though it wasn’t his—and possession with the intent to distribute. It was total bull. Dude should’ve gotten a misdemeanor for joyriding and they never should’ve searched shit.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. Angela was so pissed because he didn’t call her for advice and got some shitty public defender instead. She said if she’d gotten him a real lawyer, they could’ve gotten that time way down. Anyway. I mean, as for what can happen to people in prison… yeah, I think it’s pretty fucking grim, man.”
“Yeah.”
“So, if one of these kids is in trouble or something… I don’t know, maybe Angela could help? At least help hook them up with a criminal lawyer.” I always forget what kind of lawyer Angela is. Something with building permits, maybe?
“Nah, it’s not like that, but thanks, man. Yeah, I’ve just been thinking about it, I guess.”
“Yeah, okay, C.” X looks suspicious, but thankfully, he doesn’t push.
“Hey,” I say. “Thanks, man. Thanks for meeting me.”
“I’m glad you called, bro. You should come to the house sometime. Come for dinner or to hang out. Watch a game?”
“Aw, man. I just—Angela hates me. You don’t have to pretend she doesn’t. It’s awkward, you know?”
X sighs and rubs his temples. “She doesn’t hate you. But… you’re never serious in front of her. You don’t act like you do with me. You act like you do at the bar. So, she thinks you’re a player and she doesn’t like when I go out with you because she… you know.”
I snort. “Seriously? That’s what she thinks? That we’re, like, picking up women?”
X chuckles. “I know. I tried to tell her you’re not into it, but, hell.”
My breath catches. “What do you mean, not into it?”
X freezes and tries to cover it up by rubbing his nose. “Oh. Well, you know, just like, that you aren’t like that.” He laughs but it sounds forced.
AT THE YA, in the dimly lit basement, I help Rafe set up tables and a platform and move large speakers onto the risers in the front of the room.
I called him after work to make sure he knew we were still… friends or whatever, and to see if he wanted to run, so when he said he had to set up for some event they’re having here tonight, I said I’d come help and then hung up before he could tell me not to. He’s avoided looking at me since I got here, though, lifting and dragging like a machine. And every time he gets near me, it kindles a flame in my stomach, making me want to reach for him, feel his warmth, smell him.
“So,” I say as we’re setting up the last chairs in rows. “The kids say you never date anyone.”
This is the tidbit that’s stuck in my mind. Carlos said it almost as a throwaway comment, but I’ve been thinking about it ever since. For all that Rafe obviously has a lot of people in his life who need something from him, it seems like maybe he doesn’t need anyone.
Rafe stops, a chair in each hand. “And you trust teenagers to have the scoop on my intimate personal life?”
“Well, do they?”
Rafe sighs, puts the chairs in place, and sinks down on the platform we set up. “Well, I’m busy and people have a lot going on,” he says vaguely.
“So, they’re right. You don’t… date or whatever?”
“Yeah, it’s been a while,” he says slowly, leaning back on his palms.
“You were in love with Javier, huh?”
He sits up quickly.
“What? Why would you think that?” He’s studying me intently.
“Um. Just your face when you talk about him.” I used to watch Pop’s face when my mom would get home from the grocery store or from work. The way his eyes followed her every movement, keeping track of even the smallest gesture like it was important. The way he smiled with his whole face and his shoulders relaxed when she was near him.
“No. Well, yeah, at first. But then…. He was the best friend I’d ever had. The only person besides my mom who looked at me and thought I could be someone. Even my mom…. After—” He looks sideways at me. “After I went to prison, she never looked at me the same. But Javi…. Maybe I was just desperate for someone not to think I was a scumbag junkie criminal, but, man, I would’ve done anything for him.”