Grabbing the other ingredients she needs for the burger meat, I walk over and place them on the table. She turns my way and throws me a heartwarming smile, causing my own lips to turn up. “Could you get me a wooden spoon?” she asks, and I fetch one, handing it over to her, earning another grateful smile. “You don’t have to help me.”
“We offered to make the hamburgers, remember?” I dump some onions on the meat. Chrissy doesn’t say anything except a nice flush appears on her cheeks.
Helping Chrissy make the hamburgers is like old times. She mixes it together and I form them into the patties. Rob saunters in and assesses the conversation from the corner of his eye, rushing upstairs. He’s probably assuming I’m halfway to marriedville like the rest of this group, but no way. I’m not meant to be tied down with someone. Especially not Chrissy, she’d never welcome certain aspects of my life.
I grill while Brady and Sadie continue getting the salads together. Opening a bag of chips and a bottle of Miller Lite, I place it on the plastic table as I look into the garage at Chrissy’s car parts strewn around the floor. “You have really nice friends.” Chrissy startles me, sitting down in the chair at the table, snagging a chip.
Her long blonde hair is pulled back now in a low ponytail, revealing her tempting elongated neck and visible collarbone. She’s thinner than I’ve seen her before, and I figure it’s because of whatever brought her here. “Yeah, I like them,” I say, holding out and offering her the extra beer. She takes it, untwists the top, and the light liquid flows into her mouth as she tips the bottle back.
“You okay with me staying? I can leave as soon as my car is ready.” She crosses her legs, and her skirt rides up, allowing a glimpse of her upper thigh. The spatula twitches in my hand with the thought of the skirt rising farther.
“Chrissy, I want you to stay as long as you need to. I’ve talked with Brady. You’re welcome for as long or little as you want.” I flip the burgers and rotate the hot dogs before shutting the lid to the grill again, trying anything to distract myself.
“Thanks. It’s nice here. I wouldn’t mind a break, but the last thing I want is to intrude in your life.” She fiddles her finger in her ponytail, gazing out into a yard that’s more than she ever had growing up.
“Then stay,” I tell her, smiling over when I sneak another chip. “It’s settled then, don’t worry about me.” When she doesn’t argue, a lightness lifts from my chest that I won’t have to tell her goodbye—at least for a while.
“Hulk must be a better name than Edge, huh?” She asks me about my nickname the guys branded me with my freshman year. I don’t much care for that one either, but she’s right, it’s a hell of lot better than the nickname my dad and his buddies refer to me as. The name that continues to make me feel the pressure of earning it for some reason.
“It is what it is. Not very original, but I didn’t choose it.” I take the burgers and hot dogs off the grill and turn off the burners. She gets up and grabs her beer off the table, situating the two of us centimeters away. Our chests brush lightly, and our breathing quickly matches an escalating pace.
“I’ve always thought of you more of a Superman, you know, if we’re going with the whole super hero thing that is,” she says and then turns around back to the house.
What the hell was that? Superman? She’s got one thing right. Superman lives two personas, and that, I definitely do.
CHRISSY’S UNWAVERING EYES are all that occupies my vision as I drive over to Ridgewood, guilt eating away with every mile I get closer. She knows something, maybe where I’m going or where she believes I’m headed. The image unbearable of what she would do to me if she found out where I earn my money. The money that just bought the groceries, the money that will fix her car. She’d probably throw it in my face and say the hell with you.
Two cars line the road outside of the Ridgewood house, which brings the anger at myself out all the more. Pulling around to the alley, I park my truck in the garage right alongside my father’s and shut the door behind it. Using the side entrance, I take the short steps to the house, already hearing the cheering from outside the door. I guess the house is winning tonight.
I’m able to sneak in without anyone hearing me over the noise because all of their eyes are glued to the four flat screen televisions mounted to the wall. Determined to find my dad, I escape to the back of the house that holds his office, and, just like I presumed, he’s behind his desk, on the phone.
“Nope. Can’t happen.” Using his no-nonsense attitude as always. My dad is known for his all-business and lack of personal relationships. That’s probably why I began giving him bets when I was young, for him to relate to me somewhat.
When he spots me in the doorway, he smiles as always and motions me with his hand to shut the door. Following his directions, I plop down in the chair in front of him and rest my ankle over my knee.
“Well, figure it out.” He finishes the conversation with a demand and hangs up, concentrating on me in front of him. “Hey, Edge, how are things?” I debated in my head since last night if I should ask my dad. But, he’s my source of information, and I have no choice in the matter.
“Chrissy’s back,” I start honestly, and the first thing that strikes me is he’s not shocked.
“Has it got that bad?” he asks and leans back into his chair, a look of concern wrapping around every feature in his face.
“You tell me. She isn’t talking.” I raise both eyebrows at my dad, who is agitating me since I now know he has been keeping stuff from me. Chrissy disappeared after graduation. After that night at the fair, she never answered her phone and pretty soon disconnected it all together. I’ve never been more destroyed in my whole life as those months I searched for any trace of where she went. Having to explain to my mom why I broke two phones wasn’t easy either. Moving out of her dad’s apartment without a forwarding address left me blind in any future of finding her. Since her father has been banished from many underground establishments, eventually getting blacklisted by my dad, too, by the time I went to college, I was so angry at her, I gave up.
“He’s down, and I’m not sure he’ll recover.” My dad teepees his fingers to each other, focused on me.
“How much does he owe?” I ask, my fist clenching and opening with the fulfilling fantasy of punching her dad.
“Too much. It’s not only that, he’s burned bridges. Fuck, he burned this bridge four years ago,” he reminds me.
“Why? How?” I need as much knowledge as I can get in order to figure out what exactly Chrissy’s running from. She’s always been able to handle her dad. That one time when he lost the apartment, she somehow scrambled to help him find another. Or the time he sold all the furniture and she babysat for a month before having a bed to sleep on again. If she’d stop being so damn stubborn and allow me to get her through this.
“He’s started to become desperate and when people become desperate—” My dad leaves it open because he knows I understand.
“They cheat,” I finish in a soft voice, because the chances of me fixing this are slim with this knowledge. I swallow the deepest gulp imagining what could have happened to her. Cheating is just beyond the realm of manageable situations because the people you cheat don’t second-guess going after your important possessions, which would be Chrissy.
“Yeah. He’s been caught at five places all together. Last one was Nico’s. You know Nico?” He cocks his head to the side. The name alone boils my blood with visions of his hands on her that night.