I had just been trying to make her more comfortable, which seemed to have the desired effect, but it had definitely become a hindrance as well. The word “brother” loomed over me when I stood next to her, wondering if I should maybe reach out and put my arm around her shoulders as we were walking or something.
Or better yet, reach down a little farther and grab her ass.
I sighed at myself, washed the leftover shaving cream off my face, and got dressed. I slipped my boots on and grabbed a fresh pack of smokes before running out the door. I didn’t want my “sister” to have to wait around for me.
*****
“So, tell me who this asshole is that I want to kill now.” I made the suggestion as we headed out the apartment door and down the street.
“Please don’t talk like that.” Tria sighed. “Keith just worries. It’s not like he was going to get violent with me.”
“He’s a douche,” I said bluntly. Honestly, the idea he might have gotten physical with her never crossed my mind before she mentioned it. Why did she say that? Had he done that in the past? If I found out that he had, there would be no stopping me. I was ready to fuck him up just for yelling at her.
“He shouldn’t have been talking to you like that,” I said. “How did you hook up with him, anyway?”
“That’s kind of a long story,” she said.
“Start it now,” I said, “and finish it on the way home later.”
Tria’s shoulder rose and fell with a long breath.
“Fine,” she said. “But it’s not exciting or anything. It just boring, small-town crap.”
“I like small-town crap,” I said. Tria looked at me with narrowed eyes, and I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t really know what I meant by it, either. I liked her, and she was from a small town.
She wasn’t crap, though.
I shook my head, trying to drive such contradictory and confusing thoughts away. I wondered if people who lived in small towns had always lived there or if there was something about city life that made them seek refuge somewhere else.
“So, did your parents always live in a small town, or did they move there from a city or something?” I asked her.
“My parents were from the mainland,” she said softly. “My foster family lives on the island.”
“So what do they think of you being here in the big city on your own?”
“Well…” Tria hesitated. “My dad passed away when I was young.”
“Oh, right,” I said. “Sorry. I know you told me that before. What happened to him?”
“He worked on a fishing boat. On his way home one night, he stopped on the bridge to help a guy with a flat tire. It was dark, and they were too close to the road. My dad was hit by another car and killed. My parents were already divorced then. Dad had been in the army and was deployed for about two years. Mom screwed around on him, I guess, and they divorced shortly after he came home. My mom never really wanted much to do with me. She was living in Florida at the time with a new husband, and I didn’t want to leave my hometown. I ended up being raised by friends of the family.”
“Those are some friends,” I said with a whistle. “Taking in a kid that isn’t theirs.”
“We were always close,” Tria said quietly. Something about her tone seemed off.
“Well, what did the family friends think of you coming here?”
“Uh…well, Leo—he is like my adopted dad, I guess—was really excited and happy about me going to college, actually. No one in his family had ever gone to college, and he pretty much treated me like his own flesh and blood. That is, until I decided to come here.”
“He didn’t want you to leave?”
“No one really thought it was anything more than a waste of time,” she said. “They are all for the education because that’s something you can bring back to the community and teach everyone else, but to move away? That’s pretty much unheard of. They’re very intent on keeping everyone together.”
“You aren’t really part of the family though, right?” I really had no idea how such things worked.
“Not by blood, obviously,” Tria said. “But they considered me one of them.”
I thought about that for a minute and wondered if they really treated her the same way or not. How would she know?