Eli Borrelli

7: Maybe family

"Hey, can you pick me up?" I asked.

I could almost hear Carlos' smile drop as he immediately answered:

"I'll be there in ten."

It took me fifteen minutes to get to our meetup place, with my injuries. Even tho mom made sure I wouldn't bleed to death, I still wasn't entitled to painkillers.

Carlos waited in the alley with his trusty black bike and an extra helmet. He saw my limb from afar and ran to help me walk. He knew I didn't want to talk, so he didn't say anything, just lifted me onto the bike and started it.

The familiar hum of the engine calmed my nerves a bit, as I clung to my brother's shirt. My long dark hair flew with the wind as we rode through downtown Chicago.

We parked in front of the building and waited for just a while. After a few minutes, someone opened the door to go for a walk with their dog. We almost let the door close, before Carlos stuck his foot in the gap. He mouthed a dramatic groan earning a chuckle and a smack to the arm from me before we walked him.

We rode the shitty elevator to the roof, every second fearing, that it'd fall.

It was the best place in the whole world. Every time... life wasn't ideal I would think of that place. We could see the whole neighborhood in all its lights. It was just a couple of blocks from Carlos' house, and it had an amazing kebab place on the ground floor.

There we sat, playing footsies over the railing, with blunts on both our lips. 

"You wanna talk about it?" Carlos asked me after a long comfortable silence.

I stayed silent taking another drag. I then held my hand out, and Carlos just chuckled. He knew what I meant just from the smile on my face.

"I'll pay you back when I can," I said as I popped the pills that had appeared on my open palm.

"Nah, bro. These are on me," Carlos said with a wave of his hand.

"What would I do without you?" I asked teasingly.

"Die," Carlos said seriously with his eyebrows lifted.

It was a joke, but we both knew it to be true. The last time he tried to cut me off, I ended up spiraling with my suicidal thoughts and I jumped off the Skyway Toll bridge.

After a few more drags, I had my head on Carlos' chest with an emotionless face. The numbness I felt was the best thing I had ever found. It was the only reason I was still alive. Drugs can be fucking amazing. They never talk about it, but they really are.

"You could come live with me and Diego," Carlos suggested.

"You, my friend, have had too much weed," I joked taking the blunt away from Carlos and placing it next to my own before taking a long drag from both of them.

"They'd find me. I'd have to run somewhere pretty far," I said giving a pouting Carlos his blunt back.

Carlos truly was the best friend you could ask for. He was always there when I needed him, and he knew my boundaries and didn't try to go over them. He truly cared and did whatever he could to help, which I returned. He looked after me and I looked after his little brother. 

Our nightly sessions always ended with us cuddling on the roof high off our minds talking about aliens or some shit.

We had a plan. In four years, Carlos would be eighteen and he could legally adopt me and Diego. We would leave and be happy. I'd be sixteen, so I could get a job somewhere and we'd be just fine.