“should i do black? or white?” 

“white is pretty bold for a suit.” 

“i’m going to stand out.” i said, holding the white option a bit closer. “i figured it would make sense to play into that.” 

“remind me again why you’re doing this?” maria asked. she pointed an acrylic claw in my direction and dropped the copy of menswear weekly on an empty chair to her right. i held the black suit back up against my chest, taking just a bit too long to answer. she raised a brow at me as our eyes met in the dressing mirrors reflection, question still hanging. 

“because our dad would ruin it, by being…dad. i don’t think lacey would go if she had to suffer through a night pretending to be happy.” 

“of course. guardian angel cain.” she replied, folding her arms and leaning back. i put the black tuxedo on a rack next to the mirror and disappeared into the changing room with the other option. 

it fit well, hugged my shoulders a bit, but there were no distinct creases telling me i needed to adjust the sizing. i already had a pair of nice slacks for going to church and plenty of undershirts. the tuxedo was the only sticking point for the dance. there was an artifact in the attic, dad’s wedding attire he was now too plump for, but a calamity would befall me before i put that on. i messed with the sleeve, fiddling idly with fabric and buttons. kicked myself for not bringing those things to the fitting, then checked and double checked i’d put on all of the right loaner pieces from the store before heading back out. 

“spiffy.” maria said. she stuck her nose up a bit and motioned for me to turn around. “the joggers really sell it.” 

“you know, i think i’m runway ready.” i replied, sarcastically combing back my hair and hitting some exaggerated poses in the mirror. finger guns and a bent posture like i was a cowboy got her to crack a smile. 

“what the hell, go with white.” 

“i’m worried i look like an ivory salesman.” i said, picking at the collar where it met my oversize gray t-shirt. 

“i think you should be more worried about the parent gossip.” maria laughed.  

i continued to fiddle with the collar, a snap up piece that had sharp rectangular ends. it cut away into steep lapels that sloped along the fitted midsection. i never liked jackets that were taught at the neck. they felt claustrophobic somehow, especially at church events where every damn button had to be done. this was less formal though, so i could afford to pop a few buttons in the name of comfort. it really did cut well against my figure, the smooth black buttons a solid contrast against printer paper white. spiffy indeed. a flat tie would pull this together nicely, maybe with a pocket square or something. it made me wonder about lacey’s dress and subsequently how we would look the night of. 

“i think lace is going to wear her ball gown.” i murmured, half talking to myself. “its blue with sequins, should i color match the tie?” 

“he broke up with his girlfriend and now he’s color matching his menswear. god help me.” maria said, crossing herself. she did it backwards, right to left then down and up, but i didn’t comment. 

“bite me, carpetmuncher.” 

maria clicked her tongue audibly, folding her arms with indignance. “that was one time!” she whined. we shared a smile. 

in the eighth grade, fleetingly, maria had been deep in the throes of a romantic fling with one of the more popular girls at pinecrest. it wasn’t meant to be, with both of them committing to different private high schools and jason catching her eye the year after. 

“i would be a menace if i was gay. cain the twink destroyer.” i flexed into the mirror. “unfortunately for the lgbt world i am one straight man.” maria rolled her eyes but the smile stayed on her face. 

“you can be bisexual, it isn’t one or the other.” 

“like you?” i snarked. my eyes hid from hers and i heard the scuffle of seating sliding back as she stalked over and swatted me on the shoulder. 

“one time, cain!” 

“you know i wouldn’t judge. in fact, i think she would’ve been good for you. no atlas by any means, but…” 

“i am very happy with my hubby.” she pouted, adding another swat for good measure. i slipped off the white tux and put the discarded item on the return rack. when i’d changed, maria followed me back onto the main floor and we rifled through the rows of ties. she put one up to my chest, then against the tuxedo. it was a traditional taper, thin at the neck.  

“i was thinking more flat. square instead of sloped, to match the lapel and collar?” 

“liiiike, this?” she offered, grabbing a navy tie. 

“brighter, i think.”  

“okay, here.” she repeated, selecting a more sky-blue item.  

“perfect. right length too.” i said. she handed me the piece and i laid it across the side of the tux slung over one shoulder. 

“i think i can wear my church slacks, they’re white, and i have some nice blue shirts too.” 

“mission complete?” maria asked. 

“just need to pay. unless you think your pro gymnast legs can keep up with westchester’s fastest.” i replied. she rolled her eyes and followed me to the register. 

i paid for the items; the cashier gave me a slightly bewildered look when ringing out my selections. afterwards, i said goodbye to maria in the mall parking lot. we hugged, me lingering maybe a bit too long in thanking her profusely for her advice and support. 

the bus ride home was uneventful. dad was still giving me the same gas money each month despite the fact that i was driving less and i had been good about using my student transit pass to save. it made getting myself the occasional treat, or even the few and far between big purchases like this doable. silver linings. i wasn’t sure if he had forgotten or if this was somehow a lessening of the punishment that he could get away with. 

dad had been the one teaching lewis to drive, which pissed me off a little if i was being honest. when i turned 15 and applied for my permit he had hemmed and hawed about dealing with the wedding and a million other things, not having time to take me out to a parking lot in the chevy. jason’s dad, a guy somehow even more famous for being unreliable, was who had helped me through my first gear shifts. 

lewis had actually shown interest in getting his license and seemed to be at least partially motivated to learn. i tried not to think that he was sandbagging things, knowing that we would have to share the car once he did get that piece of paper. a pricklier, more upsetting thought followed, that dad would get him his own and i’d be stuck with the chevy. they were pulling out of the drive when i walked up the steps to the house. dad beeped the horn and i gave them both a wave, trying to hide the shopping bag behind my legs without looking like i was doing it. i bumped into martha in the entry and my heart stopped. 

“how many times have i told you to knock before you enter?” she said, one hand at her heart like i was the one who scared the daylight out of her. 

“great to see you too, and really, my own house?” 

“you should be considerate, young man.” she huffed, pushing past me. the heavy front door slammed closed as she exited and it made the checkered glass panes inlaid in the top half rattle a bit. i was just glad that she seemed to be busy or at least distracted.  

i knocked on lacey’s door and kelsey answered, my second jump scare of the evening. a bright camisole top clung to her shoulders for dear life, exposing all of her midriff in usual form. combined with smallish jean shorts, it was pretty casual even for home. despite not wanting to look, the undone top button got a glance before i physically turned myself the opposite way, half recoiling in her presence.  

“where’s lace?” i sighed. 

“how the hell should i know?” 

“because you’re nosey and get into business you shouldn’t.” i replied dryly. she looked pleased with herself. i debated just leaving. 

“walk.” kelsey replied, closing the door a bit before i stopped it with my foot. 

“direction?” i asked, just as blunt. 

“what’s in it for me?” 

“you seriously need me to bribe you?” i asked incredulously. “whatever, no. she’ll come back eventually.” i finished, lifting my foot from the door and letting it close further. kelsey poked her head out as i turned to walk away, messy bun sagging to one side. 

“watch a movie with me and i’ll tell you.” 

“two whole hours of my life down the drain? for info i don’t need that bad?” i answered. the proposition actually interested me, though. i needed to know where lace was, or at least, my anxiety did. perhaps it was worth suffering through a shitty flick for peace of mind. 

“don’t be a dick.” 

“a short movie, and you lay off her tonight.” 

“no promises.” she smiled. the word no was drug out for a second or two like she really wanted to drive home how much of maybe it was. 

“then no deal.” i retorted. 

“god.” kelsey groaned. the strap on her cami fell from one shoulder and she yanked it back up in annoyance.  

“living room. 10 minutes.” i called down the stairs, already halfway to my room. i showered and changed, regretting having signed a deal with the devil. when i got to the living room kelsey was lounging; still in her previous attire with a movie ready to go. she informed me lace was at charlotte’s for the evening. great, something i could have intuited. 

the movie was indeed some shitty flick. a girl meets guy deal that even halfway through i couldn’t care less about. kelsey was invested, though. despite how uncomfortable i was with her sitting so close to me, at least she wasn’t initiating conversation. well fell into a song and dance composed of me inching away as she nudged closer, the uncomfortable game coming to a head when i hit the corner of the sectional and she flopped into my lap. it made me acutely aware of how much more on edge i was around her, especially compared to lacey in the same situations. 

“okay, not happening.” i griped. 

“you watch TV with lacey like this all the time.” she whined. her face screwed up into a pout that wasn’t fitting at all, making her look more like she was constipated than anything. 

“well, to be frank, i actually like lace.” 

“no.” she replied, locking eyes with me. you love lace.” ‘love’ was exaggerated and long in the middle syllable, made more skin crawling by wrapping both arms around her body pseudo-sensually. 

“gross. knock it off and move over.” i said. a gag played on screen that made her giggling turn to hysterics, high pitched ringing that grated in my ears. i wanted to be anywhere else right now, to the point that the room started to feel far away and i was having trouble keeping myself grounded. 

“would it kill you to show me even a little bit of affection?” 

“are you just not getting the whole ‘i don’t like you’ thing?” i asked in disbelief. she twisted her face back into the stomach distress look, sticking her thin bottom lip out and chomping on the corner. 

“what makes her better than me?” 

“she doesn’t torture people for fun, to start.” i said, breaking the eye contact and sitting up, my attempt to dislodge her fell flat, only further embedding her in the position i wanted nothing more than to escape from. her head was firmly nestled in my core, body so relaxed that i started to feel sick imagining her enjoying this. 

“she’s a fucking nerd with a flat face and no tits.” 

“shocking, i know, but i don’t really care about those things as her brother.” 

“you aren’t my brother.” she murmured. the tv was nothing but static. alarm bells had been ringing in my head at the tone and direction of this conversation, but it was defcon one now. full panic mode. my hands shook and bracing them against the back of the couch to keep more of myself as far away as possible had little effect in soothing my rapidly fraying nerves. 

“excuse me?” 

“who cares if you hate me?” she asked. “i’m pretty, you’re hot. we’re not related so what’s the deal?” almost as if she had willed it, the strap of the camisole popped loose again. i became fixated on whatever garbage was playing on the TV, not allowing myself to give her the satisfaction of perception. words left my mouth odd and disjointed, like i was manually operating my vocal cords. 

“stop fucking talking.” 

“you’re insufferable.” she whined, folding her arms and huffing. “it’s so obvious. everyone with a brain knows you want her.” 

“stop. fucking. talking.” i repeated. the TV still held my eyes, but i knew that evil, inoffensive smile was probably etched into her face. 

“oh come on. come on. her fucking panties in your drawer? look at me cain.” she hissed. i had to force my neck downwards to look her in the eye, another overly mechanical movement that didn’t feel right. the claustrophobia had returned, her presence squeezing the air out of my lungs and taking away my response as if her presence was a constrictive force. “one of these days, you’re going to slip, and when i catch you, you’ll be my bitch.” 

no hangover, no blunt force trauma, no car accident robbing me of a normal life felt even close to the nuclear fallout contained in those words. pure, visceral, poisonous evil. from the glint behind her eye, to the way she wiggled as she said it. i couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. didn’t dare respond. i only looked away, focus once again locked back on the blurry static, forcing myself into a state of calm to keep my breathing under control. 

as soon as the credits rolled i stood up fast enough that kelsey jolted off my lap. i left her in the living room alone. heavy, angry footsteps echoed through the house. the door to my room slammed shut, perhaps too loudly, making me flinch as i fell to my knees on the porcelain tile of the shower floor. 

the world swam. it was hard to reach the shower handles. i ended up half soaking myself trying to get vomit down the drain, missing a good amount as it caught me by surprise and torrented out of my throat. as i heaved out the meager lunch i’d had with maria, i couldn’t get that stupid sneer out of my head. couldn’t stop thinking about what she had said, what she knew and how it could totally ruin my life if she did something about it. when the fit was over, when my ears had stopped ringing and my vision no longer shook, i curled up into bed and bawled like it was the morning of mom’s funeral.