Page 17

Story: Volcano of Pain

15

DID I FUCK IT ALL UP?

Dex

I ’m second-guessing myself. I feel like a stalker.

Well, if I think about what I do in my day job, and what I’m doing here with Margaux, I guess that’s a fair assessment.

But why her? What’s compelling me?

I guess it’s helpful to remind myself where it all started.

Her brother, Danny, and I were like two peas in a pod growing up. Always together, creating shenanigans around the neighborhood—riding our bicycles, throwing rocks at cars. Typical boy shit.

But when Danny got to about eighteen, something in him shifted.

Now, I’m no angel. But there are two ways you can ride into the darkness—with the intention of adding to it, or dealing with the worst kinds in the right way. That’s where we veered down two different forks in the road.

At first, it was subtle, but I slowly saw Danny changing, his morals becoming nonexistent.

I guess you could say I live by some kind of code. One where I only fuck up bad people.

Whereas Danny seems to think it’s fine to treat anyone any way he wants. To get the most out of them, manipulating them for his own gain. Even good people. Even his own baby sister, Margaux.

And that bugged me—family is family, you know?

So I guess that’s where I stepped in.

She idolized him—really put him up on a pedestal. Not that he deserved it.

He’d do the shittiest things—like invite her to concerts and then right at the last minute either tell her she couldn’t come, or that she had to pay for the ticket, because he owed someone else money for drugs or whatever.

Or he’d promise to come to her school plays and then he’d just be a no-show.

I could tell how every time he let her down, it crushed her.

Every time he’d make some tiny gesture, she’d take it as a sign he’d changed. That he was going to be the big brother she’d always dreamed of. The one that matched the vision in her mind.

But I knew that was never going to happen.

So I became that person for her instead.

Once she got to a certain age, though, I guess it felt kind of weird.

Because it’s hard not to notice how gorgeous she is, how smart and funny and kind.

She’ll always be vulnerable little Margaux, but now I’ve started seeing her in a new light.

It’s not going to stop me from being protective.

And in fact, I think—if anything—it’s made it worse.