Growing Pains

Chapter 49 - Life had a way of making me lose my footing

"He's my half-brother," he stopped me. I was going to ask if he was his son.

"So where's his dad?"

He showed me a half-smile, "You have a lot of questions today, don't you?"

"Is it a problem?"

"No," he said. "His dad isn't around."

"Oh."

"He wasn't very nice so it's probably for the best."

"Right, so you're the man of the house?"

"Not really, no," he said with an awkward laugh. "I think I'm just me."

"And who is that?"

He frowned, "What's with all the questions?"

"You said it wasn't a problem."

"It's not," he said. "I just don't understand why you're so interested."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm trying to get to the bottom of you."

He laughed, "I'm as deep as the shallow part of a pool, trust me."

"That must be why the kids like you so much," I said, even though I didn't believe him. My feet couldn't touch the bottom of him, so no. He wasn't shallow at all. "Why don't you do your homework?"

"What?"

"You never do your homework, but you pay attention in class, and you take notes, and you ask questions. You're a good student. It doesn't make sense."

He was smiling like an idiot, "So you pay attention to me at school?"

"I don't."

Still smiling like an idiot, he said, "You do."

"Just answer my question."

"I don't have time to do homework."

"Why?"

"Well, I have to help my mom, so," he said with a shrug. "Why don't you do your –"

"Does she work late or something?"

"No, she's, hum, she's sick."

"Oh," I said. "So you take care of her?"

"I try. I don't think I'm very good at it."

"What happens when you go to college?"

He shook his head, "I don't think I'm going to college."

"Why not?"

"Well, someone needs to take care of Ronny," he said. There was no resentment in his voice, only acceptance. He reminded me of Sam's new babysitter. Tristan spent his days watching her at school the same way I watched Ethan. Except he had gotten to the bottom of her, or at least he thought he had. Ethan went on, "What about you? You don't do your homework either, and you don't pay attention in class, or take notes, or ask questions. Are you going to college?"

"Probably not."

"Why not?"

I shrugged, "I'm probably gonna kill myself next year."

His face fell, "That's a horrible thing to say."

I shrugged again and got a cigarette out of the pack in my pocket. He watched me light it up, his face closed like a fist. I put on a smile for him, and said, "I'm kidding, Ethan."

"Are you?"

"Yes," I said, more for his sake than mine. Why did I care about his sake? I had no idea. "You're the one who seems to be trying to get yourself killed actually."

"How?"

"I've seen you skating. You do it like you're not scared of dying. Apparently, you surf like that too," I said, pointing at the cut on his forehead. "So you won't go to college so you can be around for Ronny, but you'll almost kill yourself jumping off a flight of stairs on a fucking Tuesday? How are you gonna be around for him if you're dead, Ethan?"

"So you think I'm shit at skating," he said, a smile on his face. "Thanks."

"You know what I mean."

"I'm not trying to kill myself," he said. "I just– I don't know. I think it's more about doing this thing that will probably really hurt, and it does, you know, it fucking hurts, but it doesn't kill you. You get up and you're fine, and you do it again, and it happens again, and again, and you just keep getting up, and you feel like maybe you can do it, you know? Life. This probably makes no sense."

"Ethan, you're describing self-harm."

He frowned, "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You need professional help."

"Right," he said, finally getting on his bike. "Let's just go."

I didn't move, "You're something else, I'll tell you that."

"In a good or bad way?"

I threw the cigarette away and got on the bike behind him, "I don't know yet."

Except maybe I did, maybe I had been trashing around shallow waters and I just had to trust that there was solid ground in him. Maybe. Maybe not. Life had a way of making me lose my footing every time I thought I had it.