The Other Side(54)

Jefferies walks me outside and puts me in the back seat of his cruiser, and as soon as the door shuts, I think, I am such a loser. Before, nothing mattered except making it to the fifth of June and graduating. My life had an expiration date, nothing beyond that mattered. But now Alice matters and she deserves better than hanging out with guys who end up in the back of police cars.

Instead of driving to the station, Jefferies pulls up to the Victorian on Clarkson and double parks in front, next to Mr. Street’s cab. Once freed from the back seat, he walks me, hand on my upper arm, up the front walk to the porch. At the porch, I put my head down and pray I don’t run into anyone on the way up. It’s not that I need a lesson in shame. I’ve lived with shame every day for two years, but this is a fresh round of it and it hurts.

We make it past Mr. Street’s door unseen and I close my eyes as we walk up the first flight of stairs. Rounding the turn to take the second flight I let out the breath I was holding as we leave Mrs. Bennett and Alice’s apartments behind us.

But when I hear a knock on the door from above my stomach clenches. The door creaks open before we crest the stairs and Taber’s voice pinches my eyelids closed again, as if I can block him out while my heart plummets. “Can you tell Toby we’re leaving in two minutes for the venue? We’ll be out in the van waiting for him. Also, the lock is jammed on the door out to the fire escape and I was wondering if you could come look at it tonight while we’re out? I tried to fix it, but my tool selection is pretty bleak. As are my handyman skills.”

Johnny sees us out of the corner of his eye coming into view when he says, “I’ll be down in a bit to look at the lock.”

“Okay. Thanks, man,” Taber answers.

When we reach the landing, I meet Johnny’s eyes—I don’t want to, but I do—and he sighs. The sigh kills me. I don’t know why but the idea that I’ve disappointed him in such a cliché Cliff way is killing me.

“No problem,” he replies distractedly to Taber.

Before I can drop my eyes and avert a second round of judgment, I catch Taber’s gaze when he turns for the stairs to exit. After he takes in the humiliation on my face, his eyes dart to Officer Jefferies and the handcuffs, both a neon sign advertising I’ve fucked up. That I am a fuck up. The shock on his face is evident, and though there’s something else in his eyes, I don’t hold the connection long enough to puzzle it out. I look the other way when he approaches.

“What’s going on?” Taber asks, the shock still winning out. I’m not sure which one of us he’s asking.

When Officer Jefferies and Johnny both remain quiet, I man up. “Shoplifting.” I look him in the eyes when I say it.

Looking from me to Officer Jefferies to Johnny he seems at a loss. He settles on, “I’m guessing this means you won’t make the gig tonight?”

I shake my head. Letting Alice down kills me more than Johnny’s sigh just did.

He rubs his lips together; he’s thinking, but I have no idea what those thoughts are. I can take a pretty good guess though, and in the pit of my stomach, I know my friendship with his sister is over. He’s protective. As he should be. Finally he nods. It’s a solemn gesture, disappointment or pity, I can’t tell. Either suck. And then he says to Johnny, “The door can wait. Take your time,” and disappears behind me down the hall toward the stairs.

I want to argue my story. I want to tell him what really happened, but nothing I say is going to erase the image of me in handcuffs from his mind. Alice deserves better than me. She always has. I’ve been living in a fantasy the past few weeks. Guys like me don’t belong in fantasies. I suddenly feel like I’ve lost everything. Again. I’m too sad to sweat, even though I’m as nervous as I’ve ever been.

“The door will be fixed before you get home tonight!” Johnny yells after Taber.

We all stand silent until Taber reaches the second floor and returns to his apartment. When privacy is achieved, Officer Jefferies says, “Johnny, I just need you to sign this paperwork so I can release him to you.”

Johnny backs away from the doorway, and we follow him into the kitchen where he signs the form in triplicate on the counter, and Jefferies uncuffs me. Paperwork and handshakes are traded between Jefferies and Johnny. “Thanks for bringing him home instead of down to the station, I appreciate it.”

Jefferies nods and then turns to head out, but before he leaves, he says, “I don’t ever want to see you in the back seat of my cruiser again, Toby.”

“Understood,” I say and I mean it.

When the door shuts behind him, I hear Johnny mumble, “Jesus Christ, I need a drink,” and notice Cliff’s bedroom door is shut. I can hear his TV playing. Johnny scrubs his hands up and down his face and runs them back through his hair. It’s an act of frustration, and his face looks ancient, like he’s lived a thousand lives consecutively and they’ve all been miserable. “What were you thinking, Toby?”

I shrug.

“Why would you steal?” he asks. Before I can answer, he adds, “As if dealing with this one wasn’t enough?” while gesturing to Cliff’s door. “Did he put you up to this?”

I shake my head. He didn’t. He’s a moron who makes horrendous choices, but this choice was entirely mine.

He crosses his arms and leans back against the counter, and even though he looks dead tired and monumentally disappointed, he also looks intimidating. I don’t often notice his size, but right now I feel two feet tall. “Shit.” He heaves in a breath and a rattling cough forces him to release it. “What am I supposed to do?” He’s talking to himself, not me.