Saint Nicholas (2 page)

Goddamn, I felt alive for the first time in a long time. So much of my life had been spent worrying. Worrying about getting good grades so I could get the hell out of the Kitchen. Worrying about money to keep the lights on and our bellies full, and before Dad left, worrying about if he and Mom were going to duke it out again over some stupid shit like her not putting enough Parmesan on his pizza. It was ridiculous. No kid should have to worry like that. Kids should be kids. Running and playing and stealing kisses on the playground. Christ, I was sixteen and already felt like I’d lived seventy-years worth of life.

Let me tell you though, when I looked into this girls’ eyes—those big, beautiful eyes—it was like none of that mattered. With just a look, everything that’d been weighing me down floated high into sky tied to a balloon and all that mattered was her.

I couldn’t help but smile. I grinned as best I could without looking like a lovesick idiot, and when the coast was clear I moved around so I could ride over and introduce myself. I didn’t know what I’d say, of course. Somehow, “Hi, I’m Nicholas,” didn’t seem to cut it to me. It was too…generic. I needed something with hutzpah. Something with flavor.

And it was while I was mulling over what I’d say to this angel that she caught on to me, snatched up her bag of food, and started to walk away. I’ll be damned if the light didn’t change, too. There were enough cars to fill a parade. There was no way I was getting across the street, and I watched her until she disappeared amongst the faces and heads, and tucked herself away down an alleyway up ahead.

Damn.

But I knew her, knew what she looked like, and that was good enough for me. I left my buddies high and dry and took off in the opposite direction to head for home, because it was there I had my yearbook, and I was going to flip through every damn page of that thing until I saw those gorgeous eyes again.

* * *

Sarah Danniels.

I repeated the name over and over in my head, running my fingers along the glossy pages of my yearbook. There she was, in Technicolor, staring back at me. Her caramel hair hung down to her shoulders and she wore just the faintest hint of blush with no lipstick. Her amazing green eyes looked back at me and I just stayed fixed on them for what must’ve been ten minutes, trying to see into her soul and figure out what could possibly make a girl that breathtaking so sad.

It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. The way she looked into the camera, with the shyest of smiles plastered on her face. So meek and delicate. Like if you reached out and touched her she’d shatter into a million little pieces. There was something there, behind those eyes. Was it fright? I don’t know. Maybe, but it definitely wasn’t good, and I made a promise to myself right then and there that I would find this girl again and do everything in my power to make her smile.

A knock on my bedroom door broke my concentration and I quickly slammed the yearbook shut. The persistent knock came again, rattling the old frame.

“Calm down,” I shouted.

“Mom!” yelled the voice of my younger sister, Helena. “Nicky’s beatin’ off again!” Ten years old. Who knows about masturbation at ten?

My ears turned red and I threw open the door, seething at Helena as if she were the devil himself. “Nobody’s beatin’ off in here ya little piss ant. What do you want?”

“Mom said you have to play with me?”

“Play with you?”

I stormed past her and into the kitchen, where my mother was shoving tissues into her purse and looking for her car keys. “What’s this about you jerkin’ off?” she asked, frantically searching through the mess of papers on the table.

“Ma, I wasn’t doin’ that.”

“Good, you’ll go blind.”

I wouldn’t, but I didn’t say anything. I just watched as she searched high and low for those keys, dressed in a pretty, floral pattern dress. Her black hair was in curls and she had her fingernails painted red, like she did when she had a date. Our father had been gone a year, and for all intents and purposes, he wasn’t coming back.

My heart sank. Most of the guys Mom dated were a quick fix. Sometimes she’d bring them up to the apartment, but most times I just caught her in the car out front making out with them. I couldn’t blame her. She had needs, and with Pops gone there was no one around to fulfill them for her. I got it, I really did, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.

“What’s this Helena says you told her I have to play with her?” I walked over to the fridge and took her car keys off the magnet I put up there for her last week so she wouldn’t lose them again. I twirled them around my finger, and at the sound of them jingling she stopped and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

She rushed over and took them, keeping my hands ensconced in hers for a moment as she smiled at me.

“What’s his name?” I asked.

Her face fell and she looked away. “It’s not like that,” she said.

“Uh huh, tell me—”

“I gotta go to work. Gina called in sick and I gotta cover for her. C’mon Nicky, we need the money and I need a break.” She glanced at my sister, who by now was sitting at the table flipping through an old issue of Glamour.

I nodded, though I couldn’t help but reiterate what I’d said at the beginning of summer when school let out. “Ma, I told you that Jimmy at the fruit stand would hire me on a couple days a week. I could—”

But it was no use. She was already shaking her head and shushing me. “I told you to forget about that. No son of mine is gonna work in the Kitchen. Start that shit and you’ll never get out. Besides, you work hard all year long on your grades, you should be focusing on your schoolwork.”

“But it’s summer.”

“And you should enjoy it. That’s all I ask, huh? Just enjoy it. Trust me, when September rolls around I’m gonna be bustin’ your balls like you wouldn’t believe, and you’ll wish you had a job just so you can get away from me.”

“I could get a job,” chimed Helena.

I glanced at her and frowned, “Doing what? Rollin’ over Duke’s crew with your three-card Monte skills?”

Don’t ask me how she did it, but my sister was aces at that game, and she didn’t even have to cheat. I think it was her small hands and the way she played fast and loose with the cards. One second you’d know where your ace was and the next, fuggedaboutit. She’d gathered many a penny from my jar and had them stashed away somewhere in her room.

“Look,” Mom said seriously, guiding me over to where my sister was. She put her arm around the two of us and crouched down, kissing each of us on the cheek. “No kids of mine are getting jobs right now. Just be kids, okay, and let me worry about all the adult stuff. We’ll be okay, okay?”

I nodded, but I knew that nothing could be further from the truth. I’d seen the bills, seen how far behind we were on rent. If it weren’t for my grandma Nadine sending Mom money each month, we’d be out on our asses living in a gutter somewhere. That was no way to live, but I respected the hell out of my mother for trying to hold things together as best she could, and it was for that reason only that I agreed to watch Helena while she went to her job at the pharmacy.

“Pop by later,” she said on her way out the door, “and maybe I’ll hook you guys up with some licorice or something, okay?”

“Sure, Ma. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Nicky. Never forget that.”

She left, and immediately my sister ran off to her bedroom and shut the door. I didn’t know what she did in there, but when her door was closed she was off limits unless I wanted her throwing a fit, so I went into my own room and left the door open a crack so I could hear what was going on.

I opened my yearbook again and flipped to the page with Sarah Danniels’ picture. She was still there, staring back at me. I half expected some Harry Potter shit to happen and for her picture to come to life, but it didn’t. There was no life in those beautiful eyes of hers, just sadness. I tired to reason with myself. Tried to tell my heart there was no way it could be feeling what it felt when it didn’t even know this girl, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and right now it wanted for me to just bury my nose in those caramel locks and a take a big deep breath while whispering, “I’ll take care of you.”

Little did I know that less than a month later, my heart would get its wish, and it would send my life into a complete tailspin.

THREE

-
Sarah
-

A week went by before I saw him again. By then, the bruises given to me on that day were a fading purple and yellow riding up my ribcage. A dull ache reminded me of their presence, but otherwise I was desensitized to the pain. I’d had enough of it over the years to start getting used to it, and in my mind I made up some elaborate fantasy over what happened. Like, I’d gone on some adventure Lara Croft-style searching for treasure, and the bandits had gotten the best of me.

I stood outside Carmine’s on West 48
^th
, a little convenience store run by one of my dad’s friends. Carmine didn’t know about my life, or if he did it was all lies, but he was kind enough and had this look in his eye when he glanced at me that sometimes I wondered if he
did
know what went on at home. If so, damn him for not stopping it.

He’d given me a fistful of licorice and I swayed aimlessly in the breeze outside his store. Summer allowed me a little more freedom. Usually Dad kept me locked up tight during school, but when vacation came, he let his daughter run around some, though I suspected that was purely for his benefit and not mine, just so he wouldn’t have me driving him nuts for three months while cooped up indoors.

During that week, I’d kept the boy’s grin locked away tightly in my heart, and only took it out at night when I was alone under the covers. I imagined him looking at me, smiling. Just the thought of it made my heart thump against my chest, both in good and bad ways. Bad because I knew that even if I were to see him again and through some miracle of the heavens we got to talking, it could never develop into anything more. It would be my death sentence if dad saw me with a boy, but that was just it. It was a good thrill to think about because when it came to those eyes of his, I found myself getting stronger. Like I had something to hold onto now.

Crazy, I know, but in those few moments we shared I knew in my heart of hearts that he and I were connected in some way, though it wouldn’t be until years later that I fully understood what that meant.

“What’s your name?”

A voice startled me and I nearly dropped the handful of licorice I was holding. I spun around and there he was, leaning up against the red brick of Carmine’s shop. I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there like an idiot while he fixed his gaze intensely on me and I clung to it for dear life. I was afraid that if I looked away I’d lose him. Like he was a mirage that would disappear without warning.

Then he came closer and I instinctively backed away a couple of steps. I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, but I couldn’t help it. People came near me and I flinched, it was what I did.

“Whoa,” he said, holding up his hands. “Hang on a sec, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I know.

“My name’s Nicholas,” he told me. “Nicholas Rossi.”

I didn’t back away any further, but I didn’t say anything either.
Nicholas Rossi
, I repeated over and over in my head.
Nicholas, Nicholas, Nicholas.
He wore a pair of beige cargo shorts and a white muscle top that clung to him like a second skin. He was tall and lithe, with defining muscles only made more prominent by the sweat glistening on his flesh. His hair was gelled in an organized mess and he wore just the right amount of cologne. Not overpowering, but enough to make me want to breathe him in forever, as long as it meant he didn’t have to go anywhere.

“I love licorice,” he said.

I blinked. Licorice? Then I remembered the bunch of it in my hand and looked down at the red strands sticking out my tightly clenched fist. I quickly took one and offered it to him, which he gladly accepted with that wicked grin on his full and plump lips. He ripped off a piece and chewed with his mouth closed, just staring, like he was waiting for something.

“I’m Sarah,” I finally said.

His smile widened and there were pieces of red licorice stuck between his teeth. I laughed. I didn’t know many guys, but the ones I did know were too cool to do something like that, to show off a mouth full of candy. It was charming, and the more he did it, the more nervous I became, because I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt there was no way I was going to be able to resist him, and that could spell big trouble down the road if anyone ever found out.

“Do I got something in my teeth?” he joked, making me laugh even harder.

It felt good to do that. So much of my laughter these days felt forced, but with Nicholas it was just natural. Like we’d been friends forever and were just hanging out, having a good time.

That feeling was soon replaced with dread though when Carmine came out to see what all the fuss was about. I quickly shut my mouth as panic overtook me, and watched as he and Nicholas looked at one another. Carmine was big. Not just tall, but round. A big ball of dough squished inside a pair of jeans and a button-up dress shirt. Nicholas was fit, but if anything happened it wouldn’t be too hard for Carmine to squish his head like a grape between his meaty hands.

He turned to me and held up a sausage finger, saying, “Watch yourself,” before going back inside his shop.

I wasn’t sure what he meant. Was he going to tell my dad that I was with someone? Or did he mean for me to be careful and make sure my father didn’t find out about it? So many conflicting emotions ran though me and my breathing became heavy. I was playing a dangerous game. Taking my life in my own hands, really, but then again, so what? If not now, when? For so long my life had belonged to other people. Was it so wrong of me to want to reclaim a little of it?

I looked over at Nicholas, who stood there with a concerned look on his face. He knew something was wrong, and it actually pained me to see him worrying about me.