Eliott Price Should be Dead

fifteen - waves

"We have a bad reputation, our family," Jackie begins as she crosses her legs on the couch. I sit beside her and intently listen to every word she says, only because Ivan is her brother.

"My dad is a thief, scammer, cheater. Grew up in Russia and came to America when he was 14. He met my mom at 17 and that was it. My mom was really into drugs, though, and she fled a couple years ago. Right after Leo was born," Jackie explains to me as her foot bounces, "don't know where she is. My dad is barely here but we're old enough to take care of ourselves."

"Uh, what does your dad do?" I quietly ask while I watch her foot bounce up and down, almost nervously.

"Drinks, gambles, tries to numb the pain. You know," she tells me with a small smirk, like I'm supposed to get the hint.

"My dad and Ivan really don't get along that well. They never did, actually, and nobody knows why. I guess it just boils down to their personalities. They're too smiliar," Jackie tells me while she stuffs her hands underneath her thighs.

"How are they similar?" I ask with my head slightly tilted.

"Everything. They have strong personalities. Ivan hates everyone except for the people inside his little bubble. He'd take a bullet for someone in his bubble. But if you're on the outside, you're dead to him. My father is similar in that way," Jackie tells me while her eyes scan around the living room instead of looking into mine.

"Are you scared of him or something?"

Jackie starts to rumble with laughter, her whole body shaking for a few moments before looking me dead in the eyes. "Hell no. Nothing scares us. Don't be fooled  by the way my brothers' introduced themselves earlier or the way I treated you while I was at work. Our skin is tougher than sandpaper and I'm definitely not as sweet as I look."

I inhale sharply and let my back lean against the cushions of the couch.

"That's good to know, I guess."

Jackie just flashes me a sketchy grin, like her family is an onion and I've only peeled away one of the thin layers.

"So, what about you?" She asks me, casually changing the subject and sure as hell not interested in my story.

"I grew up in an orphanage. I had foster families on and off but it was mostly group homes. I had one friend stick with me through everything and I live with him now, along with our best friend from high school."

Jackie listens and nods, not even bothering to ask me any questions, but at the same time I don't blame her because nothing I say can beat her family story.

"Do you know when Ivan is gonna be home?" I ask after a few more seconds pass. We're both just sitting in the living room alone—Jackie's brothers have been upstairs through our whole talk.

"No. He's twenty years old and probably doing illegal things right now so whenever that's over, he'll be home."

I unintentionally sigh at her answer, brushing my fingertips through my hair as I stand up and press my plams against my thighs once more to wick away the sweat.

"Where are you going? Don't you want to stay to meet Ivan?" She quickly asks me the second I stand up.

"I gotta get home," I half-lie.

"Okay, I'll see you soon I guess," Jackie mutters as she looks away from me, like she's searching for something else and her mind is pre-occupied.

My head is starting to ache as I twist the doorknob to leave, the bright winter sun reflecting off of the half-melted ice on the curbs.

"The fuck?"

I abruptly pull the front door shut so it latches obnoxiously loud, my entire body jumping from the sudden voice.

"That's cute, you get scared easily," the voice tells me, "over here dipshit."

I turn my head to the left and see Ivan smoking a cigarette on the porch with a mug of coffee in his other hand.

"How long have you been here?"

Ivan holds up his cigarette and examines it, shrugging unknowingly as he sticks it back in his mouth.

"Five minutes? Dunno. What are you doing in my house?"

I stick my hands in my pockets and look down at my shoes. "I met your sister on Tinder."

Ivan immediately perks up in the lawn chair he's sitting on, removing the cigarette from his lips faster than I can even process.

"You ain't fucking her, right? Dude, I'll kill you," Ivan says as he pushes his thumb and index finger against his forehead, resting his elbow against the arm of the lawn chair. I can tell he's ready to bounce on me like I'm some sort of human prey.

"I swear," he says again while muttering more curse words under his breath, "I can't even look at you. You know what? Get off my fucking porch."

I lean against the railing that separates his porch from his neighbors. My arms twist at my chest and I watch Ivan take another drag of his cigarette.

"You're not leaving. You wanna get beat up? I will call my brothers down here. You'll get wrecked," Ivan tells me as he flicks his cigarette, avoiding any eye contact with me, just like Jackie was doing inside.

"I didn't have sex with her, I'm not interested in that," I shake my head and wait for Ivan to finally look up at me.

"You're not?" Ivan asks as he finally makes eye contact with me, using this moment to admire how pale they are.

"Not with her, no."

"So you think she's ugly or something?" Ivan assumes as he lets his cigarette burn down. I hear the assertive tone in his voice.

"Not at all. Just not looking for sex," I boast with a shrug.

"Ha. Okay, prude," Ivan mutters as he flicks his cigarette into the grass, his eyes shifting back to me, "that's what girls tell me all the time."

My eyebrows raise and I can't help but to chuckle. "What changes their minds?"

Ivan points across the street to an old couple helping a toddler blow bubbles on the sidewalk.

"Don't wanna get reported as a sexual offender, but, you know, we can schedule something if you're really curious."

I watch Ivan smirk and casually take a sip of his coffee, staring into the street as he sets the mug down onto the cement porch. "I gotta go. If you need me, my number is under the coffee mug."

I stay in my spot, watching Ivan stand up and stuff his cigarettes into the lower pocket of his jacket. Once he turns to face me, I notice the Russian flag near his shoulder and remember the time after the McDonald's incident when Nigel told me to observe more.

"Oh, and remember last time I saw you? I was kinda touchy-feely and shit?"

I nod and keep my arms crossed at my chest while Ivan stands just inches from me.

"I was high. Forget all of it, okay?"

Ivan stares at me for a few more seconds as if he's waiting for me to agree and say yes or something, but I don't. I'm never going to forget any of that and I think he can see that in the way my left eye twitches and the way I don't sway or move.

"Yeah? Silent treatment? That's fine, man. I don't even know you," Ivan scoffs as he pushes against my shoulder, trying to get an answer from me.

I think we both know that I'm not forgetting the first time Ivan was vulnerable because something tells me Ivan isn't vulnerable to just anybody.

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