Because of You Page 11

  “You’re telling me,” Ryan said.

  I finished my dinner quickly. It was nice having something that didn’t taste like garbage. Prison food tasted like it was gunk scooped out of the gutter. “Thank you for dinner. It was really good.”

  “You’re welcome, Arsen,” Ryan said.

  I stared at my plate and patiently waited for them to finish. “I really appreciate you letting me stay here…” I said it often but I wanted them to know how much I appreciated it.

  “We know, Arsen,” Ryan said gently.

  When dinner was finished, we rose from the table.

  I grabbed the dishes and headed to the sink to wash them.

  “Honey, you don’t need to do all the dishes,” Janice said.

  “I insist,” I said. “You worked all day. I want to help.”

  She gave me a small smile. “Well, thank you.”

  “You don’t need to thank me.” I turned on the water and started scrubbing.

  Ryan and Janice sat in the living room and watched TV.

  When I was done, I joined them on the couch.

  Ryan pulled out a few books. “Alright, we need to get to work.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about.

  Janice opened a book and read while she sipped her wine.

  He sat beside me and pulled out a few papers and pens.

  “What are we doing?” I asked.

  “You’re going to study.”

  “For what?”

  “Your GED. You’re going to get your high school diploma.”

  I felt nervous. “I’m not sure if I can—”

  “You can,” he said firmly. “I’ll help you. Just try.”

  I didn’t want to let him down. And I wanted to get Silke back. “Okay.”

  ***

  Ryan gave me books to read during the day when they were at work. As time went on, they became progressively harder. I started with Of Mice and Men and then worked up to Scarlet Letter. I felt a sense of accomplishment when I finished it. There was no way I would have understood a single word unless I had improved.

  To my surprise, I actually enjoyed reading. It stopped being an assignment and became a hobby. I started reading quicker than Ryan could supply books. Silke had a bunch of old books in her room, so I read those in addition to the ones Ryan brought home.

  “Good thing the library is huge,” he said with a laugh. “Otherwise I’d run out of stuff to bring you.”

  I handed over To Kill A Mockingbird.

  “What did you think?” Ryan asked.

  “I liked it a lot.”

  “Why?” he pressed.

  I discussed the plot and the symbolism, and my general opinion about the book.

  He nodded his head in approval. “You’ve come a long way, Arsen.” His eyes shined with pride.

  “I actually like reading.”

  “I can tell.”

  Ryan had given up every evening just to help me study for my exam. He missed sporting games, going out with his wife, and just focused on me. He taught me math, English, science, and history. I learned more from him than my short high school career.

  One night, I spoke my mind. “Why are you helping me? You get nothing out of this.”

  He looked at me and he didn’t look happy. “You need to stop doing that.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “You need to stop questioning people and doubting yourself. I’m helping you because I care about you. Isn’t that reason enough?”

  “You’re sacrificing so much time for me…”

  “Because I care about you,” he repeated. “That’s all, Arsen. I’m not using you or want anything from you.”

  “I know. I guess that’s why it’s hard to understand…”

  He grabbed my shoulder. “You’re a good person. I want you to succeed. And I’ll make sure you have all the help you need to get there.”

  I remembered the details of his past he confided to me. “Do you see yourself in me?”

  “A lot, actually,” he said. “And I wouldn’t be where I am now if my sister hadn’t helped me, my best friend hadn’t embraced me as a brother, and a very wise man hadn’t accepted me as his son.”

  I nodded my head. “Well, I appreciate it.”

  “I know, kid. Now let’s get back to work.”

  ***

  Ryan started taking me to the gym with him. “You can’t sit around all day. It’s not healthy.”

  I was already fit. In prison, all I did was work out. When I walked out of there, I’d gained twenty pounds of muscle. My arms were thick and my thighs were toned. My chest was wider than it used to be, and my stomach was tight. I didn’t tell Ryan I worked out in the house because I wanted a reason to leave the apartment. It was nice to be outside and go somewhere. I never went anywhere without him because I didn’t want to give him a reason not to trust me. And I feared I would cave and search for Silke even though I promised I wouldn’t.

  We lifted weights together and did cardio. We spotted each other at the bar, and racked the weight when the set became too difficult. Spending so much time together made me realize Ryan wasn’t just only a friend, he was my best friend. He was the only person who cared about me besides Silke and her family. Naturally, I saw him as a father figure. Was this what it was like to spend time with a parent? You would talk and do activities together?

  “You already look pretty ripped,” he said. “But you don’t want to lose that muscle tone from hanging around my apartment.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed.

  “What workouts did you do in prison?”

  “A lot of push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups.”

  He laughed. “I guess all this expensive equipment is pointless.”

  “Actually, yeah,” I said with a laugh.

  When we left the gym, we stopped by a sandwich shop and ordered our food. I felt terrible when he paid for my food. I felt worthless.

  Ryan caught the tension. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Thank you.” I ate with my elbows off the table like he taught me.

  Ryan ate quickly then checked his phone.

  “Aren’t you worried someone will spot us together?”

  “No,” he said with a laugh. “There are seven million people in this city, and I know none of the gang eats here. We’re good.”

  “Okay.” I admit I was a little disappointed. If I ran into Silke, I wouldn’t mind seeing her face. “What’s new with Silke?”

  He flinched for a moment. “Nothing.”

  “She’s still working?”

  “Yeah, she really likes it. It’s all she can talk about. She and I went to an art show together, and I got to see just how much she loves and appreciates art. It was nice to bond with her over something. I usually struggle to find something in common with her. With Slade, it’s easy. We both likes sports, we both like inking, and we both have the worst tempers on the face of the planet.”

  I chuckled. “I wonder where he gets it from…”

  “Shut the hell up.” He hit me playfully.

  I finished my sandwich then asked the question on my mind. “So, she’s not seeing anyone…?” it would break my heart if she were. I just needed some time to get my shit together then I could get her back. But if she were seeing someone, it would complicate things.

  “No,” he said. He piled his trash onto the tray. “Ready to go?”

  “Yeah.”

  When we walked outside, I pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

  “Okay, this shit is done.” He pulled it out of my mouth then threw it on the ground. “You’re quitting.” He grabbed the cigarettes from my pocket then threw them away.

  I sighed in sadness, missing my one pleasure. “Smoking isn’t illegal.”

  “You’re a father,” he snapped. “You need to be a role model. Keep that in mind.”

  He had a point. “Okay.”

  “If I catch you with a cigarette again, you can find a new place to live.”

  Shit. “Then you
need to get me a nicotine patch or something.”

  “You weren’t smoking in prison.”

  “Actually, I was. It was pretty easy to get stuff smuggled in.”

  He sighed in annoyance. “Well, that disgusting habit is over. If you smoke in my apartment, I’ll know. And if you do, I’ll beat the shit out of you as well as kick you out.”

  I remembered what he said about his mom and how she threw an ashtray at his head. He said he couldn’t stand the smell of cigarette smoke because of that reason. I felt insensitive. “I haven’t and I won’t.”

  “Good.” He headed inside a drug store then got me a stash of nicotine patches. He ripped one open then slapped it on my arm. “Enjoy.”

  ***

  I didn’t speak on the drive. My stomach was turning in knots and I felt sick. In my old life, I was never nervous for anything. Drug deals went down without blinking an eye, and I never felt the need to sleep with one eye open. But then again, I never cared about something before. I was on my way to take my GED test, and I would be extremely disappointed if I didn’t pass. Ryan studied with me every night for months. I didn’t want him to be disappointed in me or give up on me.

  When we arrived at the high school we approached the classroom.

  “I’ll wait for you here,” Ryan said.

  “Okay.” I didn’t go inside, just looking inside through the small glass in the door.

  He eyed me then gripped me by the shoulder, what he usually did. “Arsen, you’ll be fine.”

  What if I missed every question?

  “It’s not going to be as hard as you think. I promise.”

  How would he know?

  “Everything we’ve been doing is way beyond high school level. You were reading at twelve grade reading level on day one. Now you’re extremely advanced. Arsen, I know this is hard to believe, but you’re actually extremely bright.”

  “I am?”

  “Definitely,” he said. “You just never had a proper education. When you were put in that environment, you thrived. There’s a difference between being educated and being ignorant.”

  I nodded my head in response.

  “Now go in there and kick some ass.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I was still nervous despite everything he told me. I walked inside and took my seat. A few minutes later, the tests were passed out. I looked at the first question. It was about science.

  Name the most abundant element in the Earth’s atmosphere.

  Hydrogen.

  Carbon

  Oxygen

  Nitrogen

  I knew they were all in the atmosphere. Naturally, someone would assume it was oxygen, but I knew that wasn’t the answer. I circled A and moved on.

  ***

  I stepped out of the classroom with the graded exam in my hand. Since it was multiple choice, the proctor graded the exams immediately after the testing period finished.

  “How’d you do?” Ryan asked.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t looked.” I handed it to him.

  He eyed it then looked at me. “Arsen, I know you passed. You can look.”

  “I don’t care if I passed or not,” I said automatically, closing off like I normally did.

  “Yes, you do,” he hissed. “Knock that shit off. It’s annoying. Acting like you don’t care makes you weaker, not stronger.” He shoved the exam into my chest. “Now look at it.”

  I sighed then looked at the percentage marked in red. “Ninety-nine percent…” Wait. How was that possible? Was that the number of questions I got wrong?

  Ryan smirked. “I wonder what question you missed.”

  I kept looking at it. “So, I only missed one?”

  “Yep.” He took the test and skimmed through it. “I found it.” He compared the scantron to the test. Then he laughed loudly. “You marked the right answer on the test but bubbled in the wrong answer on the scantron by mistake. So, you actually got them all right.”

  “I did?” I asked in surprise.

  He put his arm around my shoulder and walked out with me. “You’re smart, kid. I always knew you were.”

  I took the exam back and looked at the score in the corner. I’d never passed an exam before, nor had I received such a high grade. It was the first time I accomplished something.

  And that felt good.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Silke

  I dressed casually in jeans, brown-heeled boots, and a white blouse with a red cardigan. As I walked to the restaurant at five in the morning, I questioned what I was doing. I couldn’t believe I was going on a date with some guy I met at an art show. Normally, I would have said no. But the fact he painted that piece enticed me. How could I turn down a handsome man who could create beauty like that?

  When I approached the restaurant, I saw him sitting outside at a table. He was reading the New York Times with his ankle resting on the opposite knee. I got a good look at him as I drew near. He wore dark jeans, and a dark blue long sleeved shirt. It was tight on his chest, showing the muscle underneath. His dark brown hair was styled like it was last night, and the dark colors of his clothes and hair contrasted against the fair color of his skin. If I hadn’t known what he did for a living, I would assume he was a model or actor.

  Small birds were hopping around near the black fence that separated the café from the sidewalk. It sat on the corner, and had a good view of the east. While the city was always busy, there were less people out today at this hour. Everyone was sleeping in on their day off.

  I approached the gate then entered the area. He was the only person sitting at a table.

  He looked up at the sound, and he immediately took me in. He wasn’t discreet with his gaze. He examined me everywhere that was appropriate. Then he put the paper down and slowly rose to his feet. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning.” I stopped in front of him.

  He didn’t make a move to touch me. “Thank you for getting up so early.”

  “Honestly, I didn’t get much sleep last night anyway.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I guess I was just nervous for today.”

  “Don’t be,” he said immediately. He came around the table then pulled out my chair for me.

  I eyed it then sat down.

  After he walked back to his side of the table, he picked up a red rose sitting on the table then handed it to me. “When I woke up this morning, my rose bush only had one flower. I couldn’t resist picking it, despite the plants resilience in producing it even in the cold.”

  I took it from his hands and noticed the thorns had been cut. I examined it, thinking of the painting that was now on my wall. “Thank you…” I automatically smelled it before I set it down.

  “You’re welcome.” When he spoke, his voice was deep, and every word was enunciated. He never mumbled or faltered in his speech. He sounded like a professor, talking about something he was passionate about regardless if the students gave a damn. “The sun will be rising soon. I promise, you’ll love it.”

  “You come here often?” I asked.

  “On the mornings when I question why I’m an artist. When I see the view, it reminds me why I need to keep going.”

  “And why do you need to keep going?”

  He thought for a moment. “It’s my purpose to capture beauty so everyone else can see it. How would people see it if I didn’t paint it? It would be a shame, really. I want to share my experiences with the world, just like I shared something with you. I’ve never been very good at talking or connecting with people through other means, like the Internet, mutual friends, or bumping into them on the street. Painting seems to be my best way to communicate.”

  In a complicated way, that made sense to me. “I understand.”

  “You seem different,” he said. “ You strike me as someone who’s a natural conversationalist.”

  “With my friends and family. Not so much with other people.”

  “Well, you fooled me.”

  I held his gaze for a
moment, seeing his bright blue eyes, and then felt pressured to look away. I grabbed the menu and decided what to order.

  Pike continued to stare at me like I was the sunrise.

  When the waitress came over, we ordered our food. I desperately needed a coffee so I ordered an espresso. I was nervous, but I was still tired.

  When we were alone again, Pike stared at me like usual. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

  “Well, you stare a lot.”

  He chuckled then looked away. “I apologize. Sometimes I don’t realize I’m doing it.”

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  “You seem close with your father,” he said.

  “For the most part, yes. He has the heart of a twenty-year old. I don’t think he’ll ever grow up. But that’s not a bad thing.”

  “No, it’s not. It was sweet of him to attempt to purchase that painting for you.”

  “It was,” I agreed. “I guess I’m not surprised.”

  “Is he an art lover as well?”

  “Yes, in a way.”

  “In a way?” he asked.

  “Well, he doesn’t necessarily go to museums or hang paintings on his wall, but he’s fascinated by images and expressions. He’s a tattoo artist, so he likes to find meanings behind symbols.”

  “A tattoo artist?” he asked in interest.

  “Yeah, he has his own shop. He’s been doing it his entire life. He’s supposedly one of the best. People will make appointments with him and travel across the country just to have him ink them.”

  “That’s really cool,” he said sincerely.

  “My brother has always been impressed. He wants to follow in his footsteps.”

  “Wow,” he said.

  “Yeah…” I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t want to sound like I was bragging about my dad.

  “So, he’s an artist too?”

  “I would say so.”

  “Perhaps that’s where you get it from.”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “What does your mom do?”

  “She’s an executive for a publishing house.”

  He smiled. “You have a very accomplished family.”

  I shrugged. “I guess we dream big.”

  “You don’t really look like your father,” he said.

  “I have my dad’s hair, but I pretty much look like my mom. I’m actually a twin.”