Guard My Heart (2 page)

“Kyle, Kyle, wake up!” Mia says while jostling my
shoulder. Sometimes my sister can be a pain in the ass. But I love her, and she
won’t stop until she gets what she wants, so I open my eyes and blink in the
bright light. What time is it?

I turn my head in the direction of my alarm clock. It’s
almost one o’clock.

“There’s a guy downstairs to see you. He says you are
selling Dad’s bikes?”

“Yeah, if he’s serious, we might go on vacation next
week.”

Mia shrieks so loud I smack my hands over my ears to
protect my ear drums.

“Thank you, Thank you!” she shouts jumping up and
down.

“Yeah okay, now get out of my room so I can get dressed
and see this guy. If he leaves, you and I aren’t going anywhere,” I say
seriously.

She sticks her tongue out at me before turning to leave
the room. Just before she steps through the door, she turns back to me and
smiles. The old Mia, the one who still sees the good in the world when all she’s
been doing is shoveling shit, that’s the one smiling at me, not the meek girl
from last night.

I pull my shirt over my head and stick my feet into my
boots. I don’t bother tying them. I plan on coming right back to bed after I
meet this guy. I plan on doing nothing on this lovely Saturday but sleep.

Mia follows close on my heels. Like she’s scared she’s
going to miss something. I hope I don’t disappoint her. I run my fingers
through my messy bedhead. I imagine the spiky pieces sticking up all over my
head. I should scratch my belly and let out a real loud belch, just to see
Mia’s reaction, because she’s watching me so closely. It’s as if she expects me
to turn around any second and yell “psych!”

Pete must hear the banging screen door, as Mia lets it
swinging wildly behind her, and he turns around at that moment, his hungry old
eyes roaming over my twin sister’s body. My fists clench tight against my body,
and a throb starts on the side of my head.

“Mia, you should go inside. You don’t have to be here,” I
half growl at her.

“What? Why?” she asks with wide eyes.

“Because I said so, that’s why.”

“No, you are not the boss of me,” she replies, equally
annoyed.

I don’t have to turn around to know she is staring daggers
at my back. I can feel each and every one of them. I’m also fully aware that we
are acting like a bunch of first graders.

“So, where are these bikes? I can’t stand here all day,”
Pete says.

I walk off toward the garage and pull on the old rusted
metal door. It screeches and whines, but eventually I muscle it
open.

I’m greeted by the smell of musty old wood and grease.
I’ve spent a lot of time in here with my dad, working on these babies. But I
haven’t been in here in a while, and I’ve forgotten how good this one baby
looks. A real classic. But years of dust has worn her down. She’s still
beautiful in spite of it. Pete sees it too because he walks straight to it.

“I’ll give you a grand for this one. If it has papers,” he
says, not bothering to look the bike over.

“It has papers,” I try to smile. A grand for the 750 is a
good price, but I’m sad to let it go. “Mia, go get the papers for the 750,” I
say.

She doesn’t say anything, but I hear her feet crunch on
the gravel as she leaves.

“How much do you want for the Off Road?” Pete
asks.

“I’ll sell it for $500. It’s still new, but it needs
work.”

“Five hundred dollars for this? I don’t think it’s worth
it,” he says, trying to screw me out of the deal.

“It’s worth it and you know it.” I work for Pete twice a
week offloading trucks. I know he needs a new delivery vehicle for the smaller
parcels, and the 125 Off Road model will be perfect. He will save a bundle on
fuel, and the bike should be a lot cheaper to maintain than a car or a panel
van.

Pete looks the bike up and down then turns to me and grabs
my hand.

“Two hundred dollars and you have a deal. Now where is
that hot sister of yours with my papers?” he asks, his greasy unshaved lip
curling into a smirk.

“Yeah, you have a deal,” I mutter. It’s a screw over, and
if I didn’t need this money, I would punch him in the face, but then I would
also lose my job. And I need both.

“Relax, Kyle. Jeez, do you need a hit or something? You
look like you are about to blow a vein,” Pete says, looking between me and the
walkway to the house.

“A what?” The question leaves my tongue like a lightning
bolt and smashes into his face, immediately changing something in his eyes,
putting him on guard.

“Nah, never mind,” Pete says looking anywhere but my
face.

“Did you mean a hit like drugs or something? I don’t do
drugs,” I proclaim loudly. I’m proud I’m clean. That part of my life I can
control. I don’t need something like drugs taking any more choices away from
me.

“Forget I said anything. I can see you are a good kid. But
I can also see you need cash. I can help with that,” Pete says while pushing
the 750 out of the door. I follow him, pushing the 125 next to me.

If I get this money, we can pay for our trip, and I can
give Mom some money to tide her over until we get back. But I need a permanent
solution. I won’t be able to get a full-time job for another two months. Two
more months of watching my mom and sister wither away under the increasing
wrath of a titan. He is drinking more lately. It’s like the devil is on his
heel and there’s a crucifix at the bottom of every bottle. But if Pete is
offering me a job dealing drugs, I’m not interested. I won’t deal
drugs.

This town is riddled to the core with gangs fighting for
territory. And the rich families running the gangs are pushing them to find new
members. New recruits to build their fortune. The newspapers are full of
stories about school kids going missing or getting caught dealing drugs. I have
no aspiring dreams to become a runner.

So while we load the bikes onto the trailer I stay quiet.
I help Pete strap them in, and Mia walks over with the papers, faded with age. I
know what the contract states. My dad bought the 750 just before he married
Mom. When he was still
young and free
he used to joke.

Mia writes up a handwritten contract until Pete can go to
the traffic office and get the legal documents for transfer of ownership. Then
we both stand and watch him count out the cash like it is small change. He
stuffs a few remaining notes into his pants pocket, and with a wink to my
sister, he slaps the cash into my hand.

I hand Mia the cash and send her inside while I wait for
Pete to leave.

“I can see you are trying, but a kid in school can’t take
care of a family on earnings of $10 a day. If you change your mind, come find
me at the warehouse tonight at ten,” Pete says before he revs his new Ranger
and drives off, leaving me standing in the dust.

***

Jenna looks sweet in a yellow sun dress with a big straw
hat on her head. Her honey blonde curls hang loose down her back. Images of me
running my fingers through those curls and pulling her closer until my mouth
tastes hers, run through my mind. I want too. But I can’t. I don’t want to
scare Jenna away. There’s an innocence about her I’d rather not change. And I’m
no good for her.

She should lose herself to a man who can look into her
big, sea-blue eyes and tell her he will love her forever. And that man should
mean every second of that, forever. I can’t do that. Not yet. I'm just an
eighteen year old with the world on his shoulders.

I sneak up behind Jenna, careful not to let my boots
crunching on the gravel give me away. When I’m sure she’s not going to spot me,
I slip my hands over her eyes. She squeaks and bolts up straight but then
immediately goes dead still. A slight panic rises in my throat; her elbow is
right in line with my nuts. I don’t want to be spewing them all over her
perfect lawn like some happy gumball machine.

“I know it’s you, Kyle,” she speaks unexpectedly. I don’t
answer, but she doesn’t seem fazed by my silence. She really knows it’s me. I
exhale loudly. Glad that no attack is being planned on my manhood.

“You can stand here in silence all day, or you can just
say hi. Or you know what, stay silent and keep your hands over my eyes. The sun
is really bright,” she says sounding amused.

I chuckle and place a quick kiss on her soft rosy cheek.
Just a tiny peck, something you would give a friend you haven’t seen in a
while. Only I just saw her yesterday, and the day before, and the day before
that. So I really don’t have a reason to kiss her except that I want
to.

Her soft, creamy skin turns pink with embarrassment.
Sweet. Jenna is too sweet. I could break her heart in a second if I accepted it.
And she has offered it. But I’m not worthy yet. And the second that changes,
she’ll know.

For now I keep our relationship in the
friends-but-you-know-we-can-be-more category.

“Hi babe, what you doing?” I ask. I’m being stupid because
I can see she’s digging little holes for seeds.

“Just the laundry,” she says smirking at me.

“Smart ass. That mouth is going to get you into trouble
one day.” And as an afterthought I add “Maybe today.”

She looks at my mouth and then quickly drops her chin to
hide her blush. Sweet Jenna just thought about kissing me. I think about
kissing her all the time. Really kissing her. Not this cheek-pecking nonsense.
A proper tongue-fest kiss.

I shake my head to clear the haze of hormones and sit down
next to her.

We don’t say anything to each other. It’s a comfortable
silence. I help her to dig some more holes, and we share the seeds among them.
I collect the can and fill it, to water the freshly planted seeds. While Jenna
waters the seeds, I pick up the empty packet. It looks so out of place in the
neat garden. A piece of litter on Jenna’s perfect lawn. I spot the garbage bag
she used to clean up all the loose leaves and stuff and deposit the empty
packet inside. When I turn around, Jenna is standing with the tipped watering
can in her hand, ready to soak me. I shake my head in a do-not-dare motion, but
her eyes sparkle brighter, and I know she’s definitely going to do it. She
shakes the can in my direction, but the water only sloshes lazily over the
opening. She laughs and runs towards me, splashing my left side. I jump forward
stretching my arms out to catch her.

“Jeez, that’s cold,” I say shocked.

“I’m sorry, it seemed like a fun idea at the time,” she
giggles from a safe distance.

I storm toward her and grab her around the waist, tickling
her.

“No, Kyle. Stop, that tickles,” she laughs.

“Well if you didn’t think I needed a shower in your front
yard, I wouldn’t have to do this,” I say, tickling her some more.

“If you took a shower this morning, I wouldn’t feel
obligated to remind you of your hygiene,” she says seriously, but the twinkling
in her eye gives her away.

“Ha, I’ll remember to shower first then visit. Don’t
complain when hygiene gets in the way of planting seeds,” I say tickling her
again.

This time, Jenna turns in my arms, and her mouth ends up
inches away from mine. Her blue eyes trap mine, and even though I’m holding
onto her, I can’t step away. I can’t escape her blue gaze. I don’t want to
fight this anymore. We should be the perfect effing neighborhood couple.
Instead, we both pine away for each other.

My hand reaches up without permission, and I tuck an
escaped curl behind her ear. That same treacherous hand cups her cheek, and my
thumb smoothes over her bottom lip.

“I want to kiss you,” I tell her. I want to so bad. I can
almost taste her. Her breath on my lips isn’t enough anymore. If anything, it
makes me feel more deprived. More starved. Jeez, these teenage hormones are
really kicking in now.

“Then kiss me,” she says, moving up on her tiptoes and
closer to me.

I wish I could, but instead, I let her go and step away
from her. I flash her a fake smile and keep it frozen in place even when I see
her heart break in her eyes. I don’t comfort her. I don’t tell her it will be
okay. Instead I walk away.

***

Why am I here? I’m standing in front of the warehouse. I’m
not sure if I’m going to go in. No one can see me where I’m standing in the
shadows, dressed all in black. I look like a serial killer ready to pounce on
an unsuspecting victim.

Headlights light up the corner I’m standing in, so I take
a step back. It’s a green Chevy. Three guys get out and walk up to the door.
Another guy opens the door and looks around before letting them in. It’s all
cloak and daggers, and I feel like I’m stuck in a Bond movie. If that’s true,
their thermal image cameras have already spotted me. I wouldn’t make a very
good spy. Lucky for me that’s not why I’m here.

It’s almost 10. I should leave. I turn around toward the
street, but images of Mia and Mom flash in my mind. So I turn toward the door
instead. One time. I will do this once; maybe make enough to tide us over for
the month. After that I will offload trucks until my hands fall off or my back
breaks, whichever happens first.