Page 2 of Solo Stan

Elias

One Week Ago

Elias was lying on his bed, flat on his face, wondering if staying there any longer would cause him to dematerialize and fall through the mattress.

It was a hot, humid day in New York City, and there was no part of his body that wanted to move even a millimeter.

The open windows teased him; the air outside was just as hot, like a warm breath from the underbelly of the city.

Elias cast his gaze to the other side of the room at a neatly made bed. It’d been unslept in for the past few weeks.

This was the extent of his post–high school plan.

He thought that maybe he and his twin brother would try to start a business together, or perhaps move somewhere with turquoise beaches and fewer people.

The two of them had been in New York all their lives and had always talked about seeing more of the world.

William decided to see the world without him by way of the US Navy.

They’d written to each other as often as they could, but the letters abruptly stopped one day. The last one read:

Hey Eli,

Hope you’re good. Miss you. But I got to say, your last letter stung.

Mom and Dad are going to do what they’re going to do, and Nia’s not a kid anymore.

Maybe things weren’t like this before, but now it feels like you’re the one needing us more than we need you.

I didn’t abandon the family. I found a place for myself over here.

Maybe it’s your turn to do the same. You’re a few minutes older than I am, but you’re not my big brother.

—William

Sliding the letter under his pillow for the hundredth time, Elias looked up at the popcorn ceiling and sank into his thoughts.

Without William, Elias’s future felt uncertain.

Despite his lengthy in-school and out-of-school suspension record, Elias was a decent student.

Yet, college still didn’t seem like the right path.

He graduated with a class of about seventy-five other kids, most of whom only went to college to prove something to their parents.

Others joined the military, some got jobs at supermarkets or delivering food, and some did nothing at all.

Because the class was so small, everyone knew everyone else’s business.

When they all found out William was joining the military, everyone assumed Elias would do the same.

Flailing his arms and legs to wrestle his way out of a tangle of sheets, Elias finally decided to direct his anger at his hair. His fingers found the edge of the bed, and he swung his legs to the side. In a few steps, he reached the bathroom.

His short hair had been bleached a pale gold by William. The color suited him for a while, but he had overgrowth of dark roots and no William to redo it for him.

With unsteady hands, Elias grabbed the clippers from the drawer and clicked them on.

He carefully began sculpting his hair down to its natural black.

The clippers jammed, so Elias slammed his hand against the back of them.

Despite the loud noise, it wasn’t doing anything.

He cursed under his breath when he hit them too hard and the front cover popped off and cracked on the floor, leaving him 50 percent blond and 100 percent over everything.

“Lord, I see what you have done for others. When will it be my turn?” Elias muttered to the ceiling, expelling an exasperated breath.

Elias’s little sister, Nia, poked her head into the bathroom. Her hands gripped the doorframe, which had thick layers of cracking plasticky paint. Years of weather fluctuations caused the old wood to shrink and expand and the paint to separate like a molting skin.

“Favorite big brother,” Nia said in a singsong voice, “you busy?”

“Don’t do that,” Elias replied. “What do you want?”

“Luis invited me to play basketball with him and some other people. Can you come with me?”

“It’s too hot. Just take your phone with you.

I’m here,” he said, picking up the broken piece of the razor.

As soon as he began to correct his error of not closing the bathroom door in the first place, the unmistakable sound of their mother bickering with their father on the phone in the other room reached him.

A heavy exhale escaped him, and he opened the door again.

“Actually, I would literally do anything to get out of this house, but I can’t go outside looking like this,” he said, pointing to his half-shaven hair.

Nia folded her arms. “I thought Nike Panda was the look you were going for.”

“You always got something to say. Just help me!” Elias whined, satisfied when the thick bathroom door and the buzzing of the razor Nia had repaired were enough to drown out his mother’s agitated voice.

Grabbing his keys and phone, Elias yelled to their mother that he was going out with Nia.

He groaned all the way down the six flights of stairs while Nia hopped down them in twos.

When he reached the stoop outside the building, he paused to admire the blue sky, partially obscured by the tall New York City walk-ups.

“Nia, you’re late! Come on!” Luis yelled from the court.

As Elias approached with Nia, the other players instinctively retreated; the atmosphere noticeably shifted, silently acknowledging his presence.

Their eyes bored into him, an unspoken fact lingering—he wasn’t wanted there, precisely why Nia always brought him.

They played more fairly when he was around.

He was used to it, but these little boys needed to learn respect quickly if they were going to continue playing with his little sister.

Nia tossed Elias her bag and charged toward the open court.

“Ignore them. They’re just worried about getting beat by a girl,” Luis said, placing a hand on Nia’s back. “Let’s play.”

Elias pretended to be engrossed in his phone, but his eyes never left the game.

Nia threw a high-arching shot that smacked against the backboard then bounced across the pavement.

A few of the other boys laughed in a gloating manner.

Elias tried his best to remain calm, even though the heat was causing him to boil over quicker than usual.

Elias shot to his feet at the sudden clang of the chain-link fence. One of the players, Connor, had angrily slammed the ball against it and yelled, “Stop grabbing on my shirt!” at Nia.

“Don’t touch her,” Elias warned.

“Because she’s a girl I have to go easy on her?” Connor retorted.

“No, you should go easy on her because she’ll lay your little dumb ass out and I’ll pretend like I didn’t see anything.”

“Whatever,” Connor said, throwing the ball roughly at Nia, who narrowly caught it.

Luis put his body between Elias and Connor, but Elias easily evaded him. He shoved Connor in the chest and then stood over him, looking down with disdain. “Get your weight up, little boy,” Elias said, his nostrils flaring.

“Get my weight up? Get your age down, old man,” Connor replied, slipping the grasp of the others.

Connor grabbed Elias by the front of his shirt, and Elias panicked.

Realizing he couldn’t fight a thirteen-year-old, he raised his hands in a too-little-too-late gesture of surrender.

Fuck, he thought as he felt the bite from Connor’s fist against the side of his nose like an electric surge through his body.

Elias was thrown off-balance and crashed into Luis, his head ringing like a church bell.

The red-hot pain radiated in his face. Everything went white for a moment, and Elias laughed at his own stupidity as his mouth filled with blood from his gushing nose.

From the corner of his eye, all he saw was the orange blur of the basketball whizzing through the air. It collided with Connor’s stomach, creating a resounding smack . The impact caused him to stumble backward. Nia then forcefully pushed Connor aside.

“Let’s go,” she urged, taking a firm grasp on Elias’s arm.

“Are there seriously no girls you can play with instead of these little assholes?” Elias asked, spitting blood onto the ground.

“I promise they’d hit you a lot harder.”

“I know you know that’s not what I meant.”

As they left the court, the boys began to argue, their harsh words echoing across the street.

Elias’s admiration for Luis deepened as he defended Nia’s right to play with them.

Clearly, Luis had a crush on Nia, but Elias’s little sister was completely oblivious.

What Elias couldn’t figure out, however, was why his face was the one to suffer for it.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Nia said as they ascended the stairs.

He wiped his nose on the inside of his shirt. “I know.”

“You’re going to get in trouble again if Mom and Dad find out.”

“I know.”

Nia leaned her head against Elias’s arm. “Thanks.”

When they reached the apartment, Elias headed to the bathroom and splashed water on his face for relief. Blood that was thinned by the water dripped from his split lip. He reached for some blue mouthwash and swirled it around. When he spat it out, it was tinted pink.

Elias returned to his room, where he threw himself onto the bed, getting droplets of blood on the sheets.

He turned over, and his eyes fell on his reflection in the mirror sitting on his bedside table.

He got only a moment’s reprieve before a forceful knock boomed at his door, a sound he recognized too well—one that told him he’d fucked up.

Again. He’d left bloodied tissues in the bathroom, so he knew it wouldn’t be long before he got that knock.

As the door creaked open, he braced himself for the upcoming lecture. His face was rigid, a mixture of apathy and defiance.

“If it isn’t Cassius Clay in his prime,” Dad teased, aiming a few air punches at Elias’s stomach. “Except Nia told me you folded like Cassius Play-Doh.”

Elias stared blankly at his father. “Go ahead and get the lecture over with.”

“All right, now, Salty Ray Robinson, take it easy. I’m messin’ with you.”

“Did you come here just to make jokes?” Elias asked. He covered his face with his arm.

“I’m here to pick up your sister,” Dad replied. “It’s my weekend.”

“You’re not helping.” Mom had appeared in the doorway, and she was talking to Elias’s father. “Just go get Nia ready. I’ll handle this.”

Elias’s father resigned easily, leaving the room to help Nia gather her things.

Being eighteen, Elias no longer had to go with Nia. He hated to leave his mother alone in the apartment now that William was gone too. But feeling the heat of his mother’s rage, Elias nearly called his father back to save him.

“This was your last chance, Eli,” Mom said resolutely. “You’re going to live with your uncle in North Carolina. We’ve talked about this before, and your father and I agree it’d be the best thing for you.”

Elias kept his face covered. “You’re not even going to let me explain what happened?”

“I put too much trust in you,” she replied, completely ignoring him. He might as well have not even been in the room. “This is all my fault.”

“Oh my God. Please, don’t be a martyr. This is clearly Dad’s fault,” he said with a half-hearted smile. He hadn’t drawn in enough air to laugh, so it came out in sputters.

“You’re joking at a time like this? You are just like him.”

The blood rushed out of Elias’s head as he sat up too quickly, putting stars in his eyes. “How many times have I asked you not to say stuff like that to me? Can’t you and Dad be normal and ground me?”

“We—” she began.

“No, you can’t,” Elias interrupted, “because who would pick Nia up from school and make dinner when you’re working nights at the hospital?”

Mom released a weary breath. “I don’t have the energy to argue with you, Eli. Please, just get your things ready. You’ll be leaving this week.”

“What are you going to do without me here?”

“We’ll manage. Worry about yourself.”