You & Me

Chapter Nine

 "What's wrong?" I drop my dufflebag to the ground and stare at my friend. He's sitting on the stairs, his head bowed and his hands softly shaking. It's just past dinnertime and I got to the Winthrop's a little early for our weekly boxing session. But instead of the usual Amory. ready in his sportswear and his hands all wrapped up, this version of him seems like he already had a severe beating. Damn. I was looking forward to beating something after the day we had.

Amory sighs and holds out an envelope. "What's this?" I say as I grab the piece of paper from his hands. It's addressed to Fay and I raise an eyebrow. Amory gestures it's okay and I sigh. I take the letter and fold it open. Columbia University, I read, in the city of New York. I smile softly as I read on. "Dear Fay Ophelia Winthrop," I whisper along, "congratulations!" My heart jumps. I smile and nod to the letter in my hands. "She got in?!" I ask, barely to contain my excitement. "She did it," I whisper, "she really did it."

Amory sighs and offers me a beer. "She did," he says, his smile slowly fading away, "she left a note saying that Anthony Wells is buying her dinner. He got in on early admission as well."

I take the beer and sit down next to him. I open my bottle and clink it to his.

"So why are you sulking on the stairs?" I ask after a first gulp. "Shouldn't you be celebrating?"

Amory scoffs and reaches behind him for another piece of paper. "So We Beat On," he reads dramatically, "an essay on the American family in postmodern literature." I chuckle and watch Amory straightening the paper.

"Her application essay," he mumbles, "it's on who she used literature to make sense of American family life while being forced to grow up without one."

I smile lightly and take another sip of my beer.

"Is this why you're upset?" I ask and Amory scoffs. "Did she write about you?"

He shakes his head and sighs. "No," he whispers, "no, the essay is brilliant. Really, brilliant. Oh God I'm such a tool." He buries his head in his hands and sniffs. "I told her the only reason she'd ever get in would be because our uncle is the Dean of Admissions. I basically told her she wasn't good enough."

I cock my head to the side and stare at my friend. His beer is still untouched, his knuckles white from clutching the bottle so tight, his face hidden behind his dark curls. I smile softly and lay my head on his shoulder.

He glances at me and a smile tugs at his lips. I lower my hand and he averts his eyes.

"Anyway," he sighs, "I told her she couldn't do it and she named her fucking essay for me." I frown and Amory grabs his shirt's neckline and pulls it down. My eyes glance over the tattoo on his heart. A ship, on rocky seas, and the words So we beat on underneath it. Amory lets his shirt fall back into place and closes his eyes. He folds the essay and I take another sip of my beer.

"I've been such an asshole to her," he says, "and I don't know why. It's just... I have no idea how to be a brother to her. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do and anything I try to keep her safe turns out to hurt her even more. Damnit, this is one of the happiest days of her life and all I can think about is 'please don't leave me here.'"

He sighs and twirls the beer down in his hands. He downs half the bottle in one go and closes his eyes. "And on top of it all," he growls softly, "I have to tell her that our mother called today." My eyes widen and my heart falls. I study his eyes but Amory does not want to look at me. "Because of course she would call today."

He downs the rest of the beer and slams the bottle down on the step. I sigh and silently push myself to my feet and walk down to the fridge. I take another two beers and hand one to the wounded boy on the stairs.

"Look," I sigh, "I have no idea how to be a brother either, Winthrop."

He looks up at me and takes the bottle from my hands. "But if I know one thing about you and Fay it is that you come as a team. You are a package deal, Winthrop."

I kneel down in front of him and force him to look at me. "And she loves you," I tell him, "and sometimes that's all there is to it. So tell her that today. Congratulate her, buy her something nice, tell her you are proud of her. Let her have today."

Amory shakes his head with a smile on his face. "I'm glad you're here, Hart," he says softly, reaching for my shoulder. Without a second glance he shoots forwards and pushes me over.

My ass hits the ground and I grunt softly. I raise my eyebrow and try to balance the full bottle of beer in my hands. Amory smiles at me and I let it go. The cold hard ground is a fair price to pay for a sincere smile.

"So your mother called?" I ask and Amory sighs.

"Yeah," he says, "she got out today. She's staying in one of those halfway houses. Got my number somehow, but she doesn't know where we are. She told me she wanted to meet. Explain."

He pauses for a second and grimaces. He sips his beer fervently, as if to wash away the foul taste in his mouth. "As if there's any rhyme or reason to what she did to us."

I look down and frown. My knuckles are white and my breathing is shallow.

"What did you say to the bitch?" I ask, the anger in my voice echoing through the blood in my veins.

Amory chuckles and cocks his head to the side. "I told her to fuck off and never call again."

I hold out my beer and he clinks his against it. "Then she cried and said she wasn't giving up." He sighs and I nod softly.

"That's some heavy shit, man."

"Yeah," Amory says, pushing himself off the stairs. He holds out his hand for me and raises his eyebrows. Reluctantly I let him pull me up. He chuckles softly and shakes his head. "I won't push you over again," he says, raising an eyebrow, "I promise. I have no interest in getting into another fight with you."

I smirk and cock my head to the side. "That's because you know I'd kick your butt."

Amory laughs and walks over to the kitchen. "If my memory serves me right, I totally kicked your butt the last time."

I scoff and bite the inside of my cheek. "That's because I was drunk. And I let you win."

Amory widens his eyes and nods ironically. "Sure," he says, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Fine," I say, holding up my hands, "if it makes you happy to think you won fair and square, then so be it. I'm a good friend like that."

"Oh, you are?" Amory laughs and I shrug.

"Whatever gets your mind off it, mate."

Amory nods and reaches for his laptop. He sits down at the kitchen counter and opens the thing. I take a seat next to him. "Talking about taking my mind off things," he murmers, angling his laptop so I could see his screen too, "I went online to distract myself and kinda put a bid out."

My eyes scan the images on the website in front of me. A bright, open space with modern furniture. A kitchen overlooking central park. Windows as tall as ceilings and a master bedroom bigger than my living room. I scowl and shake my head.

"You're buying a house?"

"An apartment in New York," Amory sighs, "for Fay."

My mouth falls open and I stare at the screen in disbelief. "You know when I said you should buy her something nice I didn't mean a fucking apartment, Winthrop."

Amory lets his head fall down on the counter and sighs. "I know," he mumbles, "it's too much."

I scoff and pat my friend on the back. "No," I chuckle, "a diamond necklace is too much. This is– This is crazy."

Amory makes a sound – a growl, I think, or a jawn or a grunt, and I can't help but chuckle.

"But hey," I say, holding my hands up, "that's retail therapy for the rich, I guess."

Amory turns his head to me and blinks a few times. He shakes his head with an amused grin on his face. I sigh and stare at the penthouse on his computer screen.

"Too bad you can't throw money at all of your problems."