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The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline(304)



“Nope,” I said, then added quietly, “and if he was, he wouldn’t want to talk to you.”

Her face showed a range of emotions: surprise, guilt, pleasure, anger, annoyance.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” I said, lowering my voice still further, “that he wouldn’t want to talk to a trouble-making bitch like you.”

Her superior smile faltered for a moment, then her lips curled into a sneer.

“Caroline fucking Wilson deserved everything she got.”

My temper snapped.

“You’re a bitch, Brenda. I don’t know when or how that happened, but you’re a fucking, cold bitch.”

And I walked to the other side of the pool, just to get away from her.

She scowled, but didn’t try to follow me.

It was nearly 1AM by the time I got home. I was physically tired but my brain was wide awake. It didn’t look like anyone else was sleeping either, because the lights were still on in the house.

Mom was curled up on the couch with a blanket over her legs, and Dad was watching a ballgame.

“How come everyone’s still up? Where’s Seb?”

“Sit down, Chester. We just need to lay down a few ground rules now Seb is going to be living here.”

Dad didn’t usually call me by my full name so I pinned back my ears and listened.

“I went to see Donald Hunter. He’s agreed to allow Seb to stay here until he turns 18 and enlists. I’ve brought most of his things, so there’s no need for him to go back there. But this stays in the family, okay? I don’t walk you telling this to anyone.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, Dad. No breaking the military code—even for a douche like Donald Hunter.”

“It’s not that, son.” I watched as Dad scrubbed his hands over his buzz cut. “I had to make some serious threats against him—against a senior officer—do you understand what that means?”

“Your father could get in a lot of trouble,” Mom said, resting her hand on my arm. “And it’s better for Sebastian if he can just put this whole, horrible business behind him.”

I didn’t know if she meant Seb’s father beating him or his affair with Mrs. Wilson. Probably both.”

“Yeah, okay, but what does Seb say?”

“Not much. He’s happy to stay here for now.”

“So, the douche is still making him enlist? No college?”

Mom sighed. “That’s still the deal.”

It really sucked ass. For the last two years Seb and I had planned what we were going to do when we went to UCSD together. We were going to room together, take the same Liberal Arts classes, hang out, surf. Now that was all gone.

“And there are some other rules,” said Dad. “No drinking in the house. I don’t mind you guys having the occasional beer, but stay off the liquor. In fact, don’t let Seb drink too much anywhere. He doesn’t need to end up like his mom.”

That hit home. Seb’s mom was a whoring lush.

“Yeah, got it. Anything else?”

“No smoking weed. I find you’ve been doing that again, I’ll be taking the keys to the van. Got it.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” I muttered under my breath.

“Excuse me?” he snapped.

“Yeah, I got it, Dad. I’m not a kid.”

But the truth was I kind of felt like one, especially when I thought about Seb’s problems. He’d left home at 17, and would be enlisting soon. No drunken college nights for him, no all-nighters cramming for a test. He’d do his basic training, then he’d be shipped off to wherever the Marines wanted him. Smart money said Iraq.

He’d fallen in love, got his heart stomped on, and the shit beaten out of him by his own father.

Compared to that, being told not to touch Dad’s whisky and stay off the weed, hell, I had no problems. None.

When I went up to my room, Seb was lying on the cot again, but I could see that he’d stowed some clothes and a few books. Funny enough, the place looked tidier, even though it had more stuff in it.

“Hey, man. ‘Sup?”

“You cool with this, Ches? I’ll only be in your hair for a few months—just till I leave for basic training.”

“Sure, of course it’s cool. You’re my brother, man.” I laughed uneasily. “Mi casa, su casa.”

He sat up, staring out at the night sky.

“I can’t believe she’s gone. I keep thinking she’ll find a way to get in touch. Write me or something. But it’s been two weeks now.”

“You know she can’t, buddy.”

He sighed and looked down at his hands.

“I know, but I can’t help hoping that she will. Fuck, I know that makes me sound like a pathetic pussy but … I miss her.”