Page 13 of Baby, It’s You (Clairesville #1)

Hunter

I ’m finishing my final set lifting weights when I hear a sudden commotion upstairs.

I place the weights back on the rack and wipe the sweat off my brow when I hear yelling again and decide I need to figure out what's going on.

When I get to the top of the basement steps, I see Dennis pacing back and forth in my living room.

He is arguing into his phone, almost spitting the words out.

“You can’t kick me out! I’m on the lease.”

There’s a garbled response that I can’t hear on the other end of the line. “Okay. Well, then I’m going to demand to be on the lease now so you can’t kick me out.”

More ineligible talk in response.

“I mean it, Ivy. I don’t want to leave. I love you. Please, baby. Let me come back home, it will never happen again. I promise this time.”

I roll my eyes knowing that he must be referring to some type of cheating.

Dennis has always been a serial cheater.

I have never seen him stick with a girlfriend without finding someone else on the side.

Even in high school, he would find a way to juggle girls.

Not well, I might add. He always was caught within weeks but would just start the cycle again.

“Please don’t hang—” Dennis looks down at his phone and then yells out in frustration. “UUUGGHHHHH!” He then chucks his phone at my couch, where it bounces off the leather and smacks onto the wood floor, accompanied by a cracking noise.

I start to quietly walk past him so I can head up to my room for a shower. I don't want to deal with his crap. I almost make it to the bottom step before he stops me.

“Wait. Hunter, I need a favor, cousin.”

I tap my hand on the banister of my stairs and sigh at the fact that he is weaponizing our relationship. Then I slowly turn back towards him.

“What’s up?” I ask, already exasperated from what's to come.

“Can you swing by my apartment later and grab a couple boxes of my stuff? My girlfriend said she’s going to throw everything away in the apartment dumpster if someone doesn’t come grab it today.”

“If she’s throwing all of your belongings away, I don’t think she’s your girlfriend anymore,” I respond.

“Semantics,” he chides. Then he continues, “I just need someone to do it for me. She won’t let me near the apartment, and I don’t want her throwing out my laptop or Nikes.”

“I think your priorities are off, man,” I tell him.

“My laptop equals me being able to gamble, which equals me being able to get out of your place sooner.”

Wait, what? “I told you that you only have till I leave Friday morning to get your shit figured out.”

“Yeah, well, I may need a few more days now that I know I can’t go back to my place.”

Would my conscience be okay with putting Dennis out on the street? Unfortunately, no. I wish I didn’t care and could tell him to eff off but that’s not the case. I have been known to give people one too many chances before.

“Okay, fine. I will get your stuff,” I concede. “But this is seriously it. You have to figure out your next step. It’s not my responsibly to take care of you.” He nods his head as I continue, “Tell me where and what time. I’ll work it into my schedule today.”

He quickly thanks me and gives me the address. Dennis tells me to swing by at any time because Ivy will be there all day, since it's her day off. I’m sure Ivy, whom I’ve never met, is going to have a great first impression of me. The cousin of her cheater boyfriend. I’m housing the enemy.

After I get to my room and have a steamy shower, I stare at myself in the mirror.

The older I get, the more features I share with my father, and it’s a little uncanny to see the man looking back at me.

I still feel like that dumb sixteen-year-old inside that would ding dong ditch my neighbors, and play “hey, mister” with my friends outside the gas station till someone bought us beer.

It unnerves me that one day we go from being children who have no responsibilities to suddenly having to figure everything out on our own. I guess that’s why I take pity on Dennis. Where I had a dad that cared and got on my case when I messed up, he never did.

I remember looking at my dad as a boy and thinking man, he’s so brave .

I thought nothing could ever scare him. That he was untouchable.

The first time I ever recognized fear in his face, it was at the thought of dying and having to leave my mother and me.

I tried to step up before he passed, show him that I could take over.

That I could handle everything that life throws at me, but sometimes I don’t think I can.

I don’t know what to do most days and feel like a phony trying to act like everything is okay without him.

I need his advice and supportive nods when I mess up.

I wasn’t always a great kid. I made stupid mistakes like most teenagers and I know I disappointed him at times. As an adult, I want to make him proud; I hope to make him proud.

I love my job most days and I know I have a great life. I can’t lie to myself, though, and say I don’t feel like something is missing, something with depth. I work and then come home and repeat the cycle over and over. I’m starting to feel lonely, honestly.

I would like companionship beyond friendship.

Ever since I lost my father, I haven’t been able to date, though.

I tried to go on a few dates this past year and I found myself wishing I was at home with Dog instead every single time.

I have become quite the hermit when it comes to women, not wanting to even put the time in to get to know someone…

which is why last night hit me like a freight train.

I can't stop thinking about the woman from the bar, Olive. Her trying to smile and assure everyone that she was okay with blood dripping down her face. I cringe at the thought of what happened. I tossed and turned all night long, unable to sleep every time her image popped into my head, replaying the moment I tilted my face down to glance at her, all the way to when she hit the ground. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her chocolate brown eyes and lush lips.

How even with an injury she was still the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.

After many skateboarding slams, I’m no stranger to bruising and I know her face must be black and blue today.

That thought alone causes nausea to churn in my stomach.

The guilt is consuming me. I left the note for her but I’m sure she will never reach out to me.

I’ll need to find a way to make it up to her if I ever see her again.