Cruiser (5 page)

Lex

Beethoven’s
Appassionata
dances in my head as I head over to the Dalton house. At last night’s recital, the music from Rey’s violin invaded every organ in my body, every blood vessel, every cell, until I practically soared up to heaven. Listening to him play is better than surrendering myself to a box of milk chocolate.

Mrs. Dalton opens the door and smiles. “Lex.” She hugs me. “Good morning, sweetie. How are you? How’s the family?”

I tell her everything’s great, that Rosie’s doing great. It’s what everyone wants to hear, even though it’s far from the truth. Mrs. Dalton opens her mouth to say more, then clamps it shut and nods, giving me that pity smile. It’s been over a year, but her expression’s always the same.

I force a smile and climb the stairs to Rey’s room. I stop a few f
eet away when I notice the door’s closed. That’s a little odd since Rey’s usually up by 9:30 on a Saturday morning, and it’s 10:30 now. Is he still sleeping?

I rap my knuckles against the door and twist the knob. It’s locked.

“Something wrong?”

Cruiser waves at me from the adjacent room. He’s lounging in his chair, earbuds lodged in his ears, his thumbs tapping on the
buttons of his Xbox controller.

He’s not wearing a shirt.

I swallow as my eyes rove around his muscled chest. He’s gotten so tan since he started surfing again. I force my eyes away. “Um…” My hand reaches for the cool, brass knob. “Is um…” I want to smack the side of my head. “Is Rey still sleeping?”

He pulls the earbuds out and gets to his feet. I stare at the floor as he walks out of his room, but my disobedient eyes take control over me.
His body heat jumps onto my skin.

He tries the knob, as if it wil
l magically yield to his hand. “Hmm. Ain’t like him to sleep in. Might be bummed about last night.”

“Bummed? What do you mean? He
did great.”

“Not according to him. He screwed up a couple of notes in the beginning and middle of the piece.” He shrugs. “Not that I noticed.” He leans back on the wall and pushes some stray hair off his forehead. His eyes are on mine, until they start to move a little lower, and a little more. I have an urge to fan mysel
f with my hand.

Stepping back, I clear my throat. “I’m supposed to take
him out for breakfast. I’m surprised he forgot. I mentioned it to him a few times this week.” I run my hand through my hair, then drop it to my side when I realize it’s trembling. “Should I, um, try his cell?”

“Nah, I’ll get him up. Go chill in my room for a minute while I get the spare key to his room.”

My hand jumps to my hair again and gets tangled between the strands. “Um…okay.”

I get cold the second Cruiser heads down the hall. Sucking in a few gulps of air and releasing them just as strongly, I step into Cruiser’s room.

I haven’t been in here for over a year. It hasn’t changed much, except for the dirty clothing on the floor, the flashy posters of half-naked girls plastered on the walls, the stack of music and video games lining his desk, and the odor of a week-old pizza.

Then I see it
—his cruiser ship, smack in the middle of the room. I step closer to the wooden table and run my hand along the glass case. Perched on a copper metal stand, the ship has a washed gray hull with a red base. Lifeboats and lifesavers, missiles, and small lights scatter the deck, along with other military things I know nothing about. Hanging off the center pole are satellites and an American flag.

My lips twitch into a smile. This ship is Cruiser’s prized possession. He kept it all these years, in the same spot. Someone could knock it over if he
doesn’t watch where he’s going. Cruiser’s mom threatened to throw it away if he didn’t find a more suitable place. But Cruiser didn’t budge.

Something warm invades my heart. The feeling gets bigger and bigger and I’m scared my heart will explode. I touch the side of the case. The memory comes so clear it’s like it just happened an hour ago.

Elvis and Reagan’s tenth birthday. The house was covered with party decorations, the dining room filled with children’s chatter, and the
Hokey Pokey
played in the background. The twins sat at the head of the table, and it was no question where their best friend sat: right between the birthday boys. Elvis smiled and told me how excited he was to open my present. I gave him the biggest grin I could, but got scared. I only bought the boys super soaker guns, and realized I should have thought long and hard to get them something special.

But my worries went away when Mrs. Dalton carried in the cake and the kids started singing “Happy Birthday.” Fifteen minutes later, cake half eaten, it was time for th
e twins to open their presents.

“I want to open Lexi’s first!” Elvis
announced. I dug my present out of the pile on the nearby table and handed the box to him. He unwrapped it so fast, like someone zapped him with super speed. His eyes shone when he pulled out two blue super soaker water guns. I lowered my head.

“Thanks, Lexi!” His smile couldn’t be any wider.

I wished I got him something special.

The twins
received a lot of nice gifts, but when their grandparents stood before them with two large boxes wrapped in shiny silver and gold paper, everyone’s eyes widened to the size of basketballs. Rey grabbed the present from his grandmother and tore off the wrapping.

“A toy boat,” he mumbled before throwing it onto the table.

Elvis tore his gold paper and produced another toy boat.

“That’s not a toy
,
Reagan,” their grandfather said, carefully taking the model in his hand an
d
holding it out to the younger twin. “This is a Navy destroyer ship.” Rey took the ship and studied it, a frown on his face. “You have a Navy cruiser ship, Elvis. Both destroyers and cruisers help the U.S Navy fight enemy ships, submarines, and aircraft by shooting missiles and torpedoes.” He sat down near them and starte
d
to go over the history of destroyers and cruisers and what roles they played throughout all the wars. Rey dropped his ship onto the table during the story and got busy with his other presents, but Elvis listened to his grandfather with his eyes and mouth wide.

From that day and on, Cruiser became obsessed with
the Navy and demanded everyone call him Cruiser instead of Elvis. We all agreed at first, his parents giving in to their son’s phase that they thought would blow over. But after a while, the name Cruiser just stuck, and Rey and I couldn’t go back to calling him Elvis, which I always secretly thought was a silly name.

When Cruiser was
fourteen and told me he wanted to join the Navy, I was excited and upset. Excited that he was really passionate about the Navy, but upset and sad that I may never see him again if he were at sea.

I guess it doesn’t matter now.

The floor creaks from behind me, and I whirl around. Cruiser stands at the door, his gaze on my hand that’s still clutching the glass case. I step away from the table. He stares at me. I wrap my arms over my upper body.

“So…is he awake?”
I ask.

He walks over to the glass case and looks down at his ship. “Yeah. He was wiped out. No worries, I got him up for you.”

“Oh…you didn’t have to. I mean, I should have let him sleep and schedule our breakfast date another time. I mean, it’s not like we have reservations or anything. I mean—” I shut my mouth before I continue babbling like an idiot.

Cruiser doesn’t say anything.

I shift from one foot to the other. “I’m going to wait outside for him. Tell him when he comes out, please.”

“No problem,” he mutters as I head out
the door.

Cruiser

I cut the engine and wheel my bike into the garage. Probably wasn’t the smartest idea to go for a ride in the rain. But I needed to. Needed to get away from everything, from her. J
ust couldn’t…couldn’t take her—

I yank off my helmet. “
Cruuuuuiser. What will you do if I break the box and steal your little bo-oat?
”

Childlike giggles hop against my brain, like a kid throwing a ball against a wall. Over and over again. She used to tease me about my ship all the time. Sometimes she even called it
Elvis.

I shake the rain out of my hair. Drops splat against the front of my bike and the cemented floor of the garage.
“Wait until you have something special, Lexi. Then I’ll call it by your full name—Alexaaaandra.”
She stuck out her tongue at me. Always joking, always teasing.

I pull out my cell phone and text Erica. She doesn’t want me over
tonight. I snap my phone shut.

Wish I were Rey right now. Hell, I’ve been wishing that my whole life. He’s got the brains,
the talent, the parents’ love.

He’s got the girl.

It wasn’t always like that. Can’t believe there was a time when Lex liked me better than Rey—hell, that she liked me at all. She sat with me almost every night when I played my violin, even though I sucked ass, even though Rey was better. An amateur compared to a pro. She always said she loved the way I played.

I did it just for her. Mom and Dad told Rey what a great violinist he was, told me to work harder if I wanted to reach my brother’s level.
“Devote every minute to your violin playing like Reagan and you’ll be just as good as him. Don’t waste your time with all that nonsense. Put the toys away and tell Lexi to go home. You can play with her another time.”

What a pathetic bastard I am. I should put a drill to my head and get rid of
all those memories.

I go to my room. Tear off my shirt and pants and pull on a pair of dry jeans. Turn on the Xbox console and load a game. Plugging in my e
arphones, I crank up the music.

An hour later, my door springs open and Rey walks in. Rolls a chair near me, taking the second controller. “What’s up?” he says.

I snipe a soldier. He collapses to the ground, blood splashing on the wooden fence around him. “You’re back pretty early. Everything go well on your date?”

Rey
tilts the controller to the side and presses his lips together as he shoots the enemy. “Was okay.”

“Hm
m.” Not like Rey to elaborate on his dates, but my twin telepathy tells me something ain’t right on Planet Love. “You guys going through somethin’?”

My heart picks up its pace. Pumps blood through my body faster than
riding my bike on the freeway.

Rey doesn’t say anything. Just presses hard on the buttons. His
guy dies. “Damn.” He throws the controller on my desk.

“You sure you’re okay, bro? You still not bummed out about the
‘cital, are you?”

“Dude, I bombed it.”

I toss the controller to him. “Was great, in my opinion.” I hand him one of my earbuds. “This will cool you down.”

We play in silence. Mom yells something from downstairs. We ignore her.

I’m getting bored of this shooting game. I pop in a racing one.

“Hey, Cruise?”

“Whatup?”

He’s staring at the screen. Virtual cars reflect in his eyes. “Do you think you can get me some
pot?”

My car crashes into a wall
. “Pot? You shitting me?” I pause the game and turn to face him. “You can’t be serious, bro.”

Rey puts down his controller. “I am.”

I lean back in my chair. Study his face closely. Damn, he
is
serious.

“Don’t look at me like that, Cruise. You smoke
all the time.”

“
I
used
to smoke. Gave that shit up in New York. Pot, it messes with you. Once you start it’s hard to stop. It ain’t for you, bro.”

“I just want to try it, Cruise. Man, everyone’s doing it. Not like I’m going to do it every day or get addicted and shit.”

“Don’t curse.”

He laughs. “Every other word that comes out of your mouth is a curse.”

Yeah, that’s because I’m me and you’re you. Don’t stoop to my level, Rey. It’s a sad, sad place to be.

“Forget the
pot, Rey. Go out with your girl and use her as a distraction. Or somethin’ else. Pot’s not the answer.”

He clenches his jaw. Squares his shoulders. Squeezes his hands together.

Oh, man.

“What
do you need it for?” I ask.

“Gotta have a reason?”

“Yeah, I’d like a reason.”

He sighs. Slouches in the chair. “Geez, I don’t know. Just something I feel like doing. Want to try some other stuff for once, you know? You know me, I probably won’t like it. Just want to try it for the heck of it.”

Now I sigh, rubbing my hand down my face. “Fine, fine. We make a deal? I’ll get it for you. You smoke once and you never do it again. Agreed?”

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Cruise.”

Yeah. What are brothers for?