Julian's POV
It was about 3:00 already, and all I could do was sit on my bed and think. I had a blunt in my hand but it hadn't touched my lips. No. Not like Eden's lips did. What was it about her? Something struck me when she mentioned me going to college. Of course I couldn't. My family's broke and I've been assured that I am pretty stupid, at least I know it. But something about that faith she gave me. That I could. I could try out for the football team. I've always been pretty good. At least I think. My door opened and my mom walked through. Great. Exactly the inspiration I could use.
"What'd you want," I asked smugly.
"Just wanted to know where you fucked her. Don't know which sheets I should clean," she replied with a disgusted look on her face.
"What the hell, mom? I didn't touch her!" I yelled.
"Oh yeah sure. I know every time you're here when the babysitter is you do it. What? Is she different? Did your super powers not work on the slut?" She teased gruelingly.
"Don't call her a slut! She's not a slut!" I yelled standing up. "Now get the fuck out of my room!" She stared at me and then made her way over all my stuff on the ground.
"What a disgrace," she murmured, loud enough for me to hear.
I slammed the door shut as soon as she left. And threw myself back onto the bed. Taking a long drag from the blunt. Eden was different. I don't know how. But she was. She's incredibly beautiful. All I wanted to do all night was run my finger through her sandy brown, curly hair. Her hazel eyes were so deep, so endless. They had timeless wisdom in them. I couldn't stand my mother accusing me of pulling a move on her. Not her. Yeah I've done it before, but just that kiss seemed like a huge move on her. Me thinking that is very unlike my usual thinking. I could feel the soft high coming over me, leading me to sleep. A sleep that guaranteed dreams of Eden...
***
"So, you're telling me you didn't get her number, you don't know where she lives, and you don't know her last name?" J.T. restated for the third time.
"I thought we already established that," I replied.
"Yeah. We did. Now that's all cool for a hookup, but not if you want to see this girl again. What's her name again?"
"Eden," I said again. J.T. is probably the least helpful person I could've told about this.
"She's a junior, too. Right?"
"I don't know!" I finally said, frustrated. "I don't know her age, grade, last name, or if she even goes to my school! For all I know she could live in Connecticut. I just don't know!"
"Whoa," J.T. said, putting his hands up in defense, "calm down. We know she must live somewhere in Boston if she was willing to go to your house to babysit. You mentioned she's definitely not high class, so that narrows down any of those rich neighborhoods. What's so special about this girl, anyways? You just met her."
"I don't know," I muttered, my head buried in my hands. I looked back up at J.T. "It's just this feeling I had. It was weird. A really weird feeling I ain't ever felt around someone before."
"I think you just smoked something weird before you got home, bro," he remarked.
"Naw, I was sober. I'd barely even had a drink. The party was a bust," I said.
"Hey they're coming," J.T. said, pointing at the abandoned drug store around the corner. A group of guys were walking towards us. They were obviously my older brothers gang, but I didn't see him. I saw Hewitt, Nock, Grey, Langdon, and Ramirez, but my brother, who's practically their leader was missing.
"Hey, where's my brotha'?" I said as soon as they got close enough.
"That's what we here about, Jules," Hewitt said, "he got busted last night. He and his dealer got locked up. You gotta get yo' mutha' or someone to bail'm out."
"Shit! You serious?" I yelled, standing up.
"Sorry bro. He went alone, we tell him all the time not to do that . He's gon' get himself killed one day," Langdon said. I walked to the fence by the end of the lot and started climbing over.
"I gotta go. I'll catch up later," I said and started running home. It's weird how I can change how I talk around people. I try to straighten up with my family or just girls, but with my boys I can just sense myself not caring. My mom speaks alright. She went to college for a few years. My dad barely speaks at all. He's a complete alcoholic but he's usually just in a complete daze. I'd say my brothers and I missed out on good parenting. Well, Greg not so much. My mom loves Greg. She thinks she can turn him into a prodigy and get him into a good school n' all, but with me, no. She thinks I'm the stupidest kid around. Even convinced me to give up any dreams I could've had and run my dad's pawn shop, which'll run out of business hopefully before I have to run it. She's saving any money we have for Greg, not daring to waste any on me. She already gave up on Reid, my older brother.
I could see my neighborhood a few blocks away. My house is one of the first ones. I could just see it, enough to notice my mom's banged up Chevy pulling out. She drove in my direction and I waited for her to stop by the curb. She rolled down the window and looked at me, tears in her eyes.
"Get in," she said, immediately wiping them away. I walked to the passenger side and hopped in.
"Ma, what happened?" I said, trying to sound as concerned as I could for the witch.
"It's your brother. He's in jail again," she said angrily another tear rolling down her cheek.
"Yeah I know," I said, "I just found out. I was coming home to tell you."
"Damnit. I had to hear it from that wretch of a girlfriend, Mandy. The skank called us up," she spat out. I usually hated her saying that stuff about anyone, but I had to agree with this. Reid's girlfriend is a complete slut, not to mention she's rude to anything alive, including Reid. The most clothes I saw on that woman was a skin tight cocktail dress. The most.
"So when we get there," my mom started, "I don't want any arguing. Ok? We just need to figure some things out and then we'll go ahead and figure out the bail." I nodded and just stared out the window. I did that for the rest of the ride, one that I sadly recognized, having been in this situation before. We pulled in and parked the car. Jail has got to be the most depressing place on Earth. Juvy is sad enough. But jail, it's just downright the most negative place to be. We went through security and had to wait about half an hour before we got to in for visitation. Just like all the other times, seeing Reid through that glass makes me as depressed as the people in there. His face lit up once he saw us enter in. He picked up the phone, waiting for us to pick up our side. My mom started tearing up again so I picked it up.
"Jules! How's it goin'?" He said way too gleefully. He looked like shit. His eyes were puffy and red, he was sweating, his face was thin and gaunt, and he just looked sick.
"You look terrible, Reid," I said with a smile, trying to keep the mood light.
"Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself. You been workin' out?" he asked.
"Everyday. Exactly how you taught me," I replied.
"You look like a model. You ever considered that?" He asked, a lightness in his voice that I really missed.
"Never considered it. How much money could I make off it?"
"A kid from our neighborhood, who was like the poorest one there, went off and modeled underwear. Lives in a huge two-story. Can you imagine that?"
"Not at all," I replied with a laugh.
"You know we're lucky. Ma and Dad make enough that you can live in a decent neighborhood. Believe me, where I live is shit compared to your house," he said.
"Yeah, well, if you got a job maybe you could get a real place instead of a shack."
"That'll be the day... So you're not mixin' up with any gangs, right?"
"Stayin' as far as you told me," I responded.
"That's good..." he seemed to lose himself in a day dream as he just stared at the corner of his desk. Ma finally got a hold of herself and took the phone from my hand. She started rapid fire asking questions, all of which Reid was too high to even follow. The kid got mixed up with some pretty bad stuff. Got himself into a gang that he can't get out of. He got hooked on crack and heroine. Can't even hold a steady job for more than a month. I love him but I hope to God I never end up like him.
While my mom attacked him with tears and questions, I took to the vending machine. Larry, who's always at the desk, was fast asleep with a few bags of potato chips on his desk. Not sure how he hasn't been fired yet. Then again, the county doesn't the money to hire people who actually work. I sat in a chair by the door, waiting for my mom to come out. Finally, about 15 minutes later, she walked out, looking flustered as ever. We walked to the car in silence. I sat in my seat and looked at her tear stained face.
"So," I began, "what's the bail?" She stared out the windshield. She hadn't even put the keys in yet.
"Ma?" I said, scared she just going into one of her depression phases.
"$50,000," she replied blandly, still staring emotionless out the window.
"What the fuck? How?" I exclaimed.
"It builds up," she stifled, "after each time you're arrested." She continued staring blankly. I tried to control my anger.
"How long?" I asked softly.
"10 months," she murmured as she completely broke down. She felt into my arms and I cradled her. I sometimes have to feel bad for her. She raised two sons that became failures, one of which is already dead; one that's guaranteed a failure (me), and one with the possibility of being something. I'm surprised dad's the only one that became an alcoholic after Tyler was killed. I tried to sooth her and switched seats so that I could drive her home. It was a sad drive. My mom went through a wave of depression after Tyler's passing, and I had a strange feeling it might happen again.