Stepbrother Dearest (23 page)

myself away and went back to the table.

I was hard as hell, and that wasn’t good. I told my date to meet me outside so she wouldn’t notice.

I had to make it seem like what just happened didn’t affect me and needed to quickly reinforce the idea

that it was a joke. I’d been carrying around a pair of Greta’s underwear with me for days just waiting for
the perfect opportunity to taunt her with them. So, I left her the thong as part of her tip with a note that
suggested she change into them because she was probably a little wet.

I wished I could have seen her reaction.

***

We were starting to spend more time together. She’d come to my room and play videogames, and I’d

sneak glances at her neck when she wasn’t watching me.

I’d replay the kiss in my head constantly, sometimes even when I was with other girls.

Greta and I would be eating ice cream together, and the urge to lick it off the corner of her mouth was

enormous.

I could feel myself falling for her in more ways than one, and I didn’t like it.

Not only was I attracted to her, but she was the first girl whose company I actually enjoyed.

I needed to keep myself in check, though, since taking it any further with her was not an option. So, I

kept bringing girls home and pretended not to have feelings for Greta.

It was working out alright until I found out she was going on a date with a guy from school: Bentley.

He was bad news. Her friend ended up asking me to join them on a double date, and I took the

opportunity so that I could keep an eye on things.

The date had been torture. Having to hide my jealousy, I was forced to sit back and watch while this

asshole put his hands on her. At the same time, Greta’s friend, Victoria, was all over me, and there was
zero interest on my part. I just wanted to get Greta home safely, but the night turned into way more than I
bargained for. Before it was over, I’d nearly put Bentley in the hospital after he’d confessed that he’d
made a bet with Greta’s ex that he could devirginize her. I went ballistic. Never in my life had I felt the
need to protect someone like I wanted to protect her.

The next day, Greta would return the favor in a big way.

Randy had barged into my room and went on one of his abusive rants. She’d overheard and stuck up

for me in a way that no one ever had. Even though I pretended to be too drunk to remember it, I clung to
every word until she kicked him out of the room.

Thinking back, I’m pretty sure that was the moment I fell in love with her.

***

That same weekend, our parents went away. It was bad timing because my feelings for her were at an

all-time high. I’d made up a story about going out on a date just so I didn’t have to be alone with her.

That night, she’d woken me up in the middle of a dream. I’d been having one of my nightmares about

the night Mami almost killed herself.

I tried to lighten the mood because I must have looked like a crazy person. I said something to her

like, “How do I know you’re not trying to take advantage of me in the middle of the night?”

It was a joke.

She started to cry.

Shit.

I’d hit a new low.

All of the antics I’d been pulling to mask my true feelings had taken a toll on her. I had to stop, but

without the insults and jokes to hide behind, those feelings would become obvious.

When she fled to her room, I knew sleep wasn’t going to be possible until I’d at least made her smile

again. I had an idea and grabbed her dildo I’d been hiding and took it to her room. I started to tickle her
with it.

Eventually, she gave into the laughter. We spent the rest of the night lying in her bed talking. That was
the first time I’d really opened up and made the mistake of admitting my attraction to her.

She tried to kiss me, and I relented. It felt so good to taste her mouth again and to not have to pretend
that it wasn’t real. I grabbed her face and took control of it. I told myself that nothing bad would happen
as long as I could draw the line at kissing. I’d almost had myself convinced when she floored me with

words that would ruin me.

“I want you to show me how you fuck, Elec.”

I freaked out and pushed her off of me. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but it was necessary. I
explained to her that we could never let things go that far.

I tried really hard after that to distance myself. Still, those words rang out in my head at night, in the
shower, pretty much all day. I lost interest in other girls and preferred jerking off to explicit thoughts of
fulfilling Greta’s request in ways she could have never imagined.

***

Weeks went by, and I became desperate to connect with her in some way again. I decided I’d let her

read my book. After she finished it, she’d written me a note that she sealed in an envelope. Afraid to see
what it said, I put off opening it.

Then, came the night when everything changed.

Greta had gone out on a date. I knew the particular guy was harmless, so I wasn’t worried about her

this time. I was worried about me. Even though I couldn’t have Greta, I didn’t want anyone else to have

her, either.

I watched him from the window as he walked to the door with flowers. What a twat waffle. I had to do

something. When he came upstairs to use the bathroom, I accosted him in the hallway. I gave him a pair

of her underwear and told him Greta had left them in my room. It was a dick move, but I was desperate.

It pissed me off even more when she left with him. When she texted me from the car, I asked her to come

home. She thought I was kidding. I wasn’t. I’d just lost my willpower for a second.

Soon after, the phone rang, and I was sure it was Greta.

Dread set in after I realized it was my mother.

She called me to say she was back in California, that she’d been released from rehab. I panicked

because she shouldn’t have been alone in her state of mind. I didn’t know what to do because I knew I had
to go back right away now.

I didn’t want to leave Greta.

But I had to go.

I texted her to come home from her date, that something had happened. Thankfully, that time she

listened.

I knew I had to tell her the truth about why I was leaving. When she came to my room, she looked so

beautiful in a blue dress that hugged her tiny waist. I wanted to take her in my arms and never let her go.

I told her as much as I could about Mami that night because she needed to know that it wasn’t my

choice to leave.

Everything was happening so fast. I told her to go back to her room because I couldn’t trust myself.

After much coaxing, she finally listened. It really was my intention to do the right thing and stay away
from her that night.

I was alone and missing her already even though she was just in the next room. I decided to open her

letter, expecting to find some grammatical corrections and small critiques about my book.

She said things in that letter that no one had ever said to me in my entire life, things I needed to hear:
that I was talented, that I inspired her to follow her own dreams, that she respected me, that she cared
about me, that she couldn’t wait to read more, that she fell in love with my writing, that she was so proud
of me, that she believed in me.

Greta made me feel things I never had before. She made me feel loved.

I loved this girl, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

Without thinking it through, I knocked on her door and decided to give her what she’d asked me for.

I could go into details about all of the things that Greta and I did that night, but to be honest, it’s not
something I feel comfortable writing about because of how much it meant to me. She trusted me enough to

give me something that no one else will ever get. That night was sacred to me, and I hope she realizes

that.

The one thing I will say is that I will never forget a certain look on her face. Her eyes had been closed,
and it was the way she opened them and looked at me the very first moment I was fully inside of her.

To this day, I still haven’t forgiven myself for leaving her the next morning. I’d never felt so attached
to anyone. She had fully given herself to me. She was mine, and I threw her away. I let guilt and some

deep-rooted need to protect my mother in order to justify my existence win over my own happiness.

I don’t think Greta ever realized that I loved her long before that night.

As I write this, what she definitely doesn’t know is that a few years later, I came back for her, but it was
too late.

He’d come back for me?

My hand covered my chest as if it were going to keep my heart from leaping out of it.

It was now mid-morning, and the hustle and bustle of the daily grind could be heard from my window.

The sun was pouring into the apartment. I’d already called out of work earlier because I needed to finish

this book today.

Tonight was a 30th birthday celebration for a co-worker at a downtown nightclub, and I wasn’t sure if

I’d even be able to put it down long enough to go.

I walked to the kitchen to have some water and forced down a granola bar. The energy would be much

needed to get through this next part.

He’d come back for me?

I curled back into the couch, took a deep breath and turned the page.

***

You have to treat addiction to a person the same way you would a drug problem. If I couldn’t be all in

with Greta, then I couldn’t have any contact with her at all because that would have caused me to spiral
out of control.

Even calling or texting wasn’t going to be possible. It seemed harsh, but I wouldn’t have been able to

handle even the sound of her voice if we couldn’t be together.

That didn’t mean that I wasn’t pining for her every single day. That first year was hell.

Mami was no better than before I’d gone to Boston. She kept interrogating me for information about

Randy and Sarah, stalking Sarah’s facebook page and accusing me of being a traitor after I admitted that
my stepmother wasn’t all that bad once you got to know her. I couldn’t even mention Greta’s name

because I didn’t want my mother to look her up or suspect anything. Mami was back on sleeping pills, and
I had to watch her like a hawk.

I was right in my assumption that she could have never handled even the thought of my being with

Greta at that time. It was a sad irony: Mami was obsessed with Sarah, and unbeknownst to her, I’d

become obsessed with Sarah’s daughter. We were quite the fucked up pair.

Not a day went by without my having a thought about Greta with another guy. It made me crazy. I was

so far away and powerless. Ironically, there was a side of me that wished at the very least, I were able to
protect her as my sister even if we weren’t together. Sick, right? But what if someone hurt her? I wouldn’t
even know about it and couldn’t beat him down. And forget about the thought of her fucking another guy.

I’d actually punched a hole once in my bedroom wall just thinking about that.

Then, one night, I lost control and texted her that I missed her. I asked her not to respond. She didn’t,
and it made me feel worse. I’d vowed never to repeat that mistake.

My life had gone back to exactly what it was before I moved to Boston: smoking, drinking and fucking

girls I didn’t care about. It was empty. The only difference from before was that now, somewhere deep

beneath the filth was this longing for more…for her. She’d given me a taste of the type of human

connection my life had been missing all along.

I expected the gnawing feeling in my chest to go away over time, but it never did; it only intensified. I
think that was because deep down, I also sensed that wherever she was, Greta was thinking of me, feeling
the same way. I somehow felt it, and it ate away at me for years.

***

Two years later, Mami’s mental state had finally improved after she met a guy. He was her first

boyfriend since Randy left her. George was Lebanese and owned the convenience store down the street

from us. He was over the house all of the time and would always bring pita bread, hummus and olives.

For the first time ever, her obsession with Randy seemed to have waned.

George was a great guy, but the happier she was with him, the more bitter I became. I’d given up the

one girl I ever cared about because I thought it would devastate my mother beyond repair. Now, she was

happy, and I was still miserable. And Greta was gone.

I’d felt like I made the biggest mistake of my life.

I needed to talk to someone about it because my anger was eating away at me day by day. I had never

mentioned what happened with Greta to a single soul. The only person I could trust was Randy’s friend,