Giuliana slept through all of it, her tiny chest rising and falling in a smooth rhythm. The beeps and voices and noises of a hospital continued around us. Bright lights and starched linens and the smell of antiseptic were my only companions now, and I only had myself to blame.
Of all the mistakes I’d made today, that was the one that rubbed me the most raw. Not only was I a shitty father, I was also a total asshole, and now I’d just burned a bridge I was beginning to realize I desperately needed.
12
Javi
Was it cowardly to make sure Gordo’s car was gone before I ran out to my truck? Or time my schedule at the youth center around when Mike said Gordo wouldn’t be there? Maybe.
...Did I hide, pressed against a wall in case my neighbor peeked in a window as he knocked on my front door for over five minutes, calling my name?
You bet your ass I did.
It had taken days to get back on my feet after he’d shut me down at the hospital. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t anything between Gordo and me, not romantically at least. Lord knew I’d done my fair share of screwing it up, too. If someone were to open the dictionary to “self-sabotage,” my picture would be next to it. But I’d thought we were at least friends.
And even though I’d accepted long ago that nobody was going to find me worth sticking around for—you don’t have a mom walk out on you and not learn that lesson—I also knew something else: even with those truths, I didn’t deserve to be someone’s punching bag. There had been some rougher foster families over the years, and while I’d accepted being passed from house to house as part of life, I’d never accepted a belt, a fist, or a hateful word as something I deserved.
Those things weren’t about me—they were about the shit the other person was dealing with.
Gordo had tried to cut me with his words at the hospital. And I got it, I really did. I’d seen him struggle with being a single dad before, like that time he’d made me dinner as a thank you for being a helping hand. But that time he’d ended the night with sweetness (too much sweetness, my racing heart reminded me).
At the hospital he’d been all salt, and I couldn’t be involved with that. I didn’t have enough shield left to endure him figuring his shit out and taking it out on me while he did.
It was my day off today, and I’d spent it at the shop, working on some sketches for potential tattoos. I preferred to be around my makeshift family than home in my empty house, so close to Gordo and Giuliana. Reagan and the others must have sensed something was off, because they left me alone most of the day, but Reagan stopped me on my way out.
He put a heavy hand on my shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Javi. You know that, right?”
Well, okay. My feelings must have been written all over my sleeves. Considering the many reasons behind my tattoos, I supposed there was an irony in that thought. “What’s prompting this?” I signed.
“Sometimes people just deserve to be reminded of how special they are.”
Maybe I should have said thanks, but instead I tried to save face, nodding and racing to my truck before he could see how his words affected me. Why was it that the kindest words could do the most damage?
I still didn’t want to face going home yet, so I decided to stop at the center and check on Andrew instead. He and a few of the kids his age were out on the playground when I got there. I almost never saw Andrew with other kids, so I waited, wondering if I should gracefully duck out without distracting him from his friends. But it only took a moment to see that he was shaking, and it wasn’t from laughter.
Before I could get outside and over to him, Andrew had wheeled around and sucker punched one of the other kids in the jaw. The other kids turned on him, rushing in with wild punches and shouting, and Andrew went down, balling into a fetal position with his hands around his head.
I didn’t say anything as I closed in, but as soon as the kids saw me, they jumped back, their faces a riot of anger and caution. Only one