Chapter 4 : Red

Brooks’ POV

The sound of hushed girl chatter draws me out of my sleep. Hand going to wipe the crusty sleep from the corners of my eyes. What time is it? A groan escapes me as I lift myself from this old exceptionally uncomfortable couch.

“Finally!” a small torpedo come barreling into me. A mess of tangled brown curls tickled my neck as Riley settles into my lap. Her little fingers hold on to a tuft on my shirt collar. I instinctively start to cradle her in my arms. I remember the day Ruby and Riley were born.

They both entered this world as addicts. An addiction to coke was all that my mother had ever given them. The free clinic wouldn’t give me the full medical report until I had a parent or guardian present. Being that I was only fourteen. Only a year older than Paris is right now. I remember coming home that day. Paris squeezing my hand as we entered our front door. She always got scared when it was time to walk through that damn door. A scream broke out from my parent’s bedroom. I ran to it without even thinking a second longer.

Blood. There was so much blood. Dark ruby red coated all the sheets and covers. Then another piercing scream from my mom. I was frantic and scared. Was my mom going to die? Was I going to let her die? Was I going to let her die in front of my six-year-old baby sister?

Clearly no one, including mama, knew she was pregnant. Daddy was nowhere to be found. Another late night at the bar I presume. I delivered my sisters. I was the first one to hold them before the paramedics arrived. Paris had run to the neighbor’s house while I undertook the gruesome task that I had no idea how to perform. It’s thanks to them that the paramedics arrived at all.

They said mama and the babies were lucky to be alive. Lucky that I was there. Mama passed out cold in the ambulance, they said it was from blood loss. Something in the way their eyes held so much pain and pity made me think otherwise. They knew she was high. She must’ve shot up right before we got there. That’s probably what caused her to go into labor almost three months too early.

I named them when mom bailed after she realized the hospital staff were onto her. We found her back at home the next day throwing out all the bloodied sheets. That was the day I’d had my first big screaming match with my mother. Paris and I spent the night at the hospital worried for the lives of the babies she had created and yet she was more worried about the smell of the sheets on her bed. I don’t think she ever even held either one of the twins until they were toddlers.

I was the one in the hospital every day after school. Dad came in once. I thought it was to see his youngest kids for the first time. He just came to sign the papers and left. I was hurt but not surprised. I had to help him pay off the medical bills for their stay in the NICU, where all the tiny babies go. All the overachievers who were too eager to see the outside world. So many tiny hands and feet. So many miniature bodies connected to tons of wires and tubes.

Some went home, some weren’t as lucky. Leaving this world as quickly as they came. All the parents that bothered to be there for their offspring looked at me with that look. The same one the paramedic had given me before. Fuck I hate that look so much.

“Look who’s decided to grace us with his conscious presence.” That all too familiar sarcasm comes from a few feet to my right in our little kitchen nook. It brings a grin to my face. I look towards Paris who is walking towards me, plastic bowl and spoon in hand. Her hand me down shorts and tank top used to be mom’s. Everything we wear is “pre-loved”. I don’t think I can even remember a time I got new clothes. Probably for the best anyway, that money could be used for so much more than a few new clothes.

“Thanks. What time is it?” I sit Riley next to me on the couch, taking the bowl of cereal. God I’m so hungry.

“Around 10, why?” I’m midway done stuffing my face when I stop at her words. I pull my bag to me and start riffling through it in search of a clean change of clothes. Fuck, I forgot to get toiletries. I doubt not being able to take an actual shower should be on our bingo card.

“Shit, I need to get down to the school.” I say changing my shirt, not really bothering with my jeans. Tying my old, busted sneakers, pretty good for a garage sale find.

“Do we really need school anyways? It’s practically useless.” The inflection of her voice told me she really didn’t want to go. The bullies at our old school would taunt her relentlessly. If it wasn’t about how she dressed it was about how she spoke or how she didn’t. I was so close to giving one of those kids the beating of their life. Flashes of my dad stopped me as I pulled the collar of that little shit head’s shirt. I didn’t want to be like him.

“Nice try.” I say grabbing my wallet and keys from the table. “I’ll get some body wash and stuff on my way back.” I made a move to walk out the door when Paris chimed in from her spot leaning against the smoked up wall by the couch.

“Can I come? Like you can drop us off at the store and I’ll get the stuff while you go to the school.” Her once crossed arms now pushed herself off the wall. She walked closer to me. Eyes set on the ground before looking up to me. Obviously clocking my apprehension at her suggestion. “It’ll be twice as fast…” a last hail Mary attempt was accompanied by a tilted head and awkward smile. I followed it with the same head tilt and a raised brow.

“Please, I need this. I’m so tired of being locked in.” she sighed, giving in to her real feelings. Her words sink into my skin like drops of color in a glass of water. I guess I kind of forgot about all those times. Times when I couldn’t take her with me everywhere I went. After Ruby and Riley, we couldn’t just go anywhere at any time. It would always be me and her divide and conquer.

I didn’t realize how much it took a toll on her. It wasn’t like she was asking me to leave the two four-year-olds at home while we went gallivanting off into the sunset. She wanted to leave the confines of the house.

I need to let go. I at least need to try. I need to for her. It’s not fair that she had to grow up so young, and I still treat her like she’s as fragile as glass. She needs some sense of freedom.

“Ok, fine. You have to promise me you won’t spend our money on useless crap though.” I shake my head in defeat, articulating my words with the swaying of my hand.

“I solemnly swear to be as frugal as possible.” She closed her eyes, right hand over her heart and left raised in the air. She will never not make me laugh. An actual laugh, the first one in what seems like forever. A wide smile takes its place shortly after.

“You guys change. I’ll wait in the car” I open the door and hold up the keys getting her attention before tossing them over to her. “Lock the door behind you.”

Paperwork. The bane of my existence. Principle Briggs helped me with the scholarship applications. Our old high school, Frederickson Prep, did in fact get back to her and assured us they would send our records over for transfer. Paris and I were un-officially official students at Dravenmore High.

“Do you have a plan, for your little sisters while you and your sister are at school. You can’t just leave them home alone for hours.” She insisted on walking me out to my car. Her arms were crossed over her chest. Her black jeans and blue flowy blouse contrasted the white hallways and red lockers. Her concern was palpable. Like I could cut it with a butter knife and spread it on a slice of toast if I wanted to.

“I was going to look around for a babysitter, but I don’t wanna leave them with a stranger y’know?” Hands in my pockets fiddle with the loose strands inside. Nervous habit. No, it was more like a thinking habit. Like my brain couldn’t work if my hands weren’t taking part.

“You could put them in day care.” Her top half shifts to me, her face looking like a huge lightbulb went off in her mind. “The place my wife and I send our son to is pretty great. They give them lunch and snacks. It’s affordable too.” she gets out her phone from her back pocket, flipping through pictures from what I can gather from as many glances I could get before crossing the creepy line.

She showed me a picture of her wife and son in a colorful playroom. Their faces showed so much joy. It's hard to believe these candid photos are of real people. It reminds me of those pictures you see in frames at the store. “You’re married?”

“Yeah, going on seven years now.” I want to look at someone the way she looks at her wife and son. I think maybe I want someone to look at me like that too.

“I’m happy for you guys.” I turn my gaze to the sterile floors and then the red walls. I couldn’t look at that color the same after that day.

“Thanks.” She pockets her phone once more. “You really should go down to the place today though. They tend to fill up really fast and a few kids just left because of a move. If you’re lucky there’s still two spaces available. It's down 28th, can’t miss it.” Her hands come to rest on her hips as I unlock my door. Yes, that is how old this piece of crap car is.

“That’s near the ice-cream place, right?” She nods to me, hand resting over her eyes as a sun shield. “Sounds good, I’ll check it out.”

And again, I’m driving. I’m alone. These were times my mind begins to wander off. What if I just swiftly turned the wheel and crashed into that tree? Or off that bridge? I never think like this when I’m with my sisters. Now that I think about it, they’re the reason I never act on it. How could I leave them?

Walking back into Claire’s Place feels like a light breeze on a warm day. Simon Claire was right where he said he would be, waiting for me at the front desk.

“You came back.” his arms crossed over his chest, smile widening with every word. It was almost like he knew I would. I have no fucking idea how though.

“I did.” My shoulders shrugged and my face mimicked is smile. I want to trust him. I really do. But a part of me knows I could never bring myself to do it. I’ve been on my own for so long. It’s always been me, taking the lead. But something about the way Simon’s demeanor never changes from calm and at ease.

“C’mon, let me give you a proper tour.” He rests a hand on my shoulder, walking with me. I think that’s the first time a man has laid a gentle hand on me.

We went through the whole building. I walked every corridor and stared up at every high ceiling. I saw all the classes offered. Watched a few people spar in the boxing ring, receiving critique from the former boxer, Simon himself. We were talking about cheap options that I could afford, to actually come here. His words faded into the background when my eyes fell on the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. He obviously clocked my lack of attention, stopping to follow my gaze.

I don’t get embarrassed often, but the most embarrassing moment of my life occurred. He called her over to us. Dallas, he called her. I was caught, right then I wished the floor would open up and swallow me. Or that I would spontaneously combust or implode on the spot. I studied her as she studied me in the same vain. I saw the beauty spot on her cheek. Her blue eyes. God I’ve never seen a bluer blue that that.

I feel myself staring but it was like I couldn’t stop myself. My embarrassment vanishing, replaced with memorization. I barely register the words that leave my lips. Her hand was so soft to the touch. It was a touch I never thought I’d feel. I was to engrossed in her to realize that I was still holding her soft palm in mine. I pulled my hand back, that embarrassment creeping back in slowly but surely. Hands retreating into my pockets for solace. Before I knew it she was gone again.

“Next time don’t be so obvious, lover boy.” His laugh rang through me, hitting me like a fucking train. I just acted like a fucking idiot didn’t I? Shit.