On Me Ch. 02

They both accompanied AC/DC lead singer while he screamed through the speakers, the bobs of their heads perfectly in sync. Two songs later, Bobby swerved the car to the nearest exit, and they drove leisurely along the outskirts of the metropolis.

Bobby turned the volume down. "Soooo...? What does the birthday boy feel like doing tonight?"

"I dunno, man," Lucas answered, a carefree smile plastered to his face. "Let's just drive, see where the road takes us."

"Well, if you don't wipe that smile off your face and give me some instructions, it's gonna end up taking us to Doila."

Lucas snickered. "Of course it is."

Doila was Bobby's favorite steakhouse, and his predictable contribution to most conversations revolving around food. And those that didn't.

"I thought you were on a diet."

"I am! But it's been hours since we had anything to eat." He was salivating at the thought of sinking his teeth into a big dripping steak. "How you're not starving is beyond me. My stomach is growling."

Lucas gave him a sidelong look.

His seat was pumped as high as it would go, and there was very little clearance between his belly and the steering wheel. His little stumpy leg hardly curved when his foot reached for the pedals.

He snickered again, and his attention returned to the twisty road. "Fina. Doila it is."

Bobby pumped his fist in celebration. "Yes!"

Lucas smirked when the car immediately accelerated, as if it'd found the prospect of feasting on a juicy steak no less exciting.

"My treat!" Bobby exclaimed. "And tonight, I'm taking you out to celebrate. God knows we deserve it."

"If you insist," Lucas said, feigning indifference.

Truth be told, he was happy. Happy like he hadn't been in a long time despite the circumstances. He got his best friend back, his knee nigh on full recovery, and he was making great progress with his book. And yeah... he was in love.

Bobby seemed high in spirits today, as well, he noted. It hadn't been easy for him, but two weeks later, two weeks of watching his grandmother slowly withering away, he was beginning to come to terms with the situation. Such tragedy might shatter any other man, but not Bobby.

His friend had always had such a bright outlook on life. He had a bubbly personality, and he could chew your ear off on his worst days. He was a glass-half-full type of a guy, one that seldom allowed himself to brood, let alone sink into depression. He wasn't quite simple, but... certainly uncomplicated.

Lucas felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He plucked it out. It was his mother.

"Hey, Mom."

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Lucas... happy birthday to you!"

He gave an appreciative laugh. "Bravo!"

"Come by the house. I got your present."

He cut his eyes at Bobby. "Er... I've kinda made plans."

"Well, this is important, honey! Trust me, you're gonna love it."

He sighed, glancing at Bobby again. "Okay. I'll be there in twenty."

"Great! See you soon, baby."

Lucas slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"Your mom?"

"Yeah. Looks like I'm gonna have to take a rain check."

Bobby's face fell. "Awwwww mannnnn..."

"Wanna come with? We can go to Doila later."

"Nah, that's okay. I'll grab a burger or something. I mean, a salad."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about me. But we're still going out tonight, right?"

Lucas filled his lungs with fresh air. "Yeah, why not. It's not every day you turn 21."

* * * * *

"Now no peeking!" Suzan warned as she led her blindfolded son to the double garage.

Bobby had dropped Lucas off a minute ago, and his mother slipped her silky, black sleep mask on him the second he walked through the front door.

"Where are you taking me?"

"I told you, it's a surprise!"

She opened the garage door with her remote, and an excited smile percolated her son's lips at the familiar mechanical sound. When the door fully opened, Suzan walked into the garage.

"Okay, now!"

Lucas removed the opaque sleep mask, and his jaw plunged to the ground.

"Happy birthday!"

"Jesus Christ..."

It was a motorcycle. She bought him a motorcycle. And not just any motorcycle.

He strode to his present, his eyes awash with awe. "Mom! That's... that's... "

"That must have cost a shit ton of money!" he nearly blurted.

"Oh, he likes it! I think he likes it!" Suzan teased while he studied his present.

It was a BMW R nineT. BMW offered several watered-down versions of this exact model, but Lucas could instantly tell: this was the flagship.

The frame was matte black, beautifully juxtaposed with the bulbous fuel tank finished in sanded aluminum. The front forks donned a glorious gold, and the venerable boxer engine protruded at either side. It wasn't a sports bike; it wasn't a cruiser, either. It was a retro bike, one that harkened back to simpler times.

He circled it, sliding a finger along the seam that streaked the fuel tank. He was out of words. "Jesus, Mom..."

His mother grinned wide in response.

He pulled her to his loving embrace. "Thank you so much."

"It's your father you should be thanking," she said when he pulled away.

A puzzled frown rose on his face. "What?"

"He got you that; it's all him. I didn't like the idea of you getting on one of those again, didn't like it one bit, but he insisted that this was what you wanted. And when he makes up his mind... well, I don't need to tell you."

Lucas's mind was racing. "Dad? Dad bought the bike? For me? Dad?"

Suzan laughed amusingly. "Honey, go talk to him! He's waiting for you in his den. It's time we've put this behind us. We're a family: your father and I, Skylar, and you." She kissed his cheek and headed back inside.

*

Lucas closed the garage door a spell later and walked through the front door. He took a left, passing by the open-plan kitchen, where his mother was already on the phone with the wife of Judge Hart. She gave him the thumbs up as she laughed at something her friend had said before she was yammering on.

He stood outside his father's den for a long moment before he knocked on the door.

"Come in," Samuel ordered in a stern voice.

Lucas walked in and closed the door behind him. His father was on the phone while going over what Lucas thought was a deposition. His den had seen very little changes over the years, Lucas noted. The TV was new, but that was about it.

"You don't have a case, Marty," his father said. "You know as well as I do that your case is entirely circumstantial."

They went back and forth for another minute or so.

"Yes, but if your witness ended up retracting his statement? My client walks free."

There was another rather long back and forth, a heated one.

"I'm not suggesting any of that sort. But in my experience, witnesses often prove to be... unreliable."

A cold shiver rolled down Lucas's spine at the sound of it.

His father was a powerful man, he was reminded. And you don't get to be that powerful by playing by the rules.

"Three years. Minimum security prison. Take it or leave it."

This Marty guy apparently decided to take it because his father seemed especially smug when he ended the call.

Samuel fished a couple of pistachios from the bowl on his desk. He gathered the papers and slid them into his briefcase before his attention moved on to a different set of papers.

Lucas waited for his father to acknowledge him, but it didn't seem as if that was going to happen any time soon.

"So, you don't talk to me, but you buy me a motorcycle?"

Samuel didn't even bother to look up from the papers. "You don't like it?"

It was the first exchange of words between them in over two years.

"As usual, you're missing the point."

"Am I?"

Lucas shook his head as he wandered off in his father's den. He examined the statutes of the indigenous American on his bookshelf. Pretentious. "You could've saved those twenty G's if you'd just come and talked to me."

"Thirty."

Lucas pivoted around, his forehead creased with confusion. "Huh?"

"Thirty thousand," Samuel repeated casually. He tucked the stack of papers away in his drawer and turned off the TV. "I got you all the packages, and a... a few other things, as well."

Lucas studied his father's bearded face, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Why?"

Samuel sneered. "You know, for a guy who was just gifted his dream bike, you show very little gratitude."

Lucas was about to retort, but something occurred to him. "How do you know that?"

"know what?"

"That it's my dream bike."

Lucas couldn't for the life of him remember disclosing this to anyone around town, not even to Bobby.

His father clearly hadn't expected the question, and for a fleeting moment, Lucas could tell that he was scrambling for a reply. He settled for a cryptic look as he tossed a pistachio into his mouth.

A knot formed in Lucas's stomach. Did his father have a file on him somewhere? Had he been digging into his past? Into his present?

He swallowed, blood rushing away from his face. He managed to regain his composure quickly though upon realizing that his father couldn't possibly know about him and Skylar. He was still breathing.

"So, what now?" Lucas said. "What do you want from me?"

"What makes you think I want anything from you?"

"A gift is a debt."

A grin split Samuel's face, one of pride. "Indeed."

It was one of many of Samuel's pearls of wisdom, and he was happy to see that his son hadn't forgotten his upbringing.

He rose from his executive chair and walked up to Lucas. He was taller now, taller than him. "I spoke harshly that night. I regret that."

"Is that an apology, councilor?"

"Off the record? Yes," Samuel quipped.

Lucas raised his brows in surprise. "Wow."

"I recognize that I haven't always done right by you. I should've been more..." he faltered.

"Understanding? Caring? Loving...?" Lucas offered.

He never did know when to bite his tongue.

"I don't think I deserve that."

"You made my life a living hell."

"Only because you felt the constant need to rebel. Even now, so damn snarky. You know it ticks me off."

Oh, did he...

"What did I ever ask from you?" Samuel continued, his voice swelling with emotions. "To do well at school?!"

"It didn't matter how well I was doing because it was never enough for you. You blew a fuse that night 'cause you found out that I came third in my class. Third."

Samuel walked across the room, grating his teeth.

"Why not first, you asked," Lucas continued as the bitterness simmered within him. "You were always on my case. Nothing I did was ever enough for you. Maybe if I'd had a vagina, you'd—"

"Now, you leave your sister out of it!" Samuel barked as he turned to face him, and Lucas knew he crossed the line. Skylar was the line.

"You want to dredge up the past? You want me to tell you how sorry I am while you weep in my arms? Because I sure as hell don't."

"Then what do you want?"

"What I've always wanted." He walked up to his son and palmed his shoulders. "You're a man now. One day, you will have a family of your own. You will want to provide for them. To give them the best life that you can. I'm offering you a chance to do that. A chance of once-in-a-lifetime. A chance that people would kill for."

Lucas had no rebuttal. His father was one of the best defense attorneys in the country, and his reputation preceded him. Apprenticing under him had been the dream of many, he knew.

Not his though. He never wanted to practice the law, and he dreaded the thought of working for his father. Yet in spite of it all, he wasn't ruling it out.

"We'll turn over a new leaf," Samuel pressed on, noting the wavering resistance in his son's eyes. "You saw how happy your mother was. I think we've distressed her enough. Don't you?"

Lucas reluctantly acquiesced with a bob of his head.

"Then let's stop spatting over nonsense. Let's end this once and for all. No more running away. No more working dead-end jobs just to spite me. No more—"

"Is that why you think I ran away?" Lucas cut him off, perplexed. "Out of spite?"

"Didn't you?"

"No, this was your doing. You bullied me out of here."

Samuel shrugged. "Well, I'm not bulling you any longer, am I?"

"No. So long as I toe the line."

"And is that so bad? I only have your best interests at heart. If you stop being stubborn just for the sake of it, you might see that, too."

Lucas bowed his head, sighing as he did.

Samuel squeezed his shoulder. "I know we've had our differences, but I do believe that our goals align. For once in your life, be a team player. Be a team player, and I'll make it worth your while. You know I will, son."

Lucas leveled his gaze with his father's, the conflict raging inside him.

"What do you say?" Samuel said. "Are you ready to be a team player?"

* * * * *

It was late in the afternoon when Skylar was lounging on her bed. It was her day off, and a nervous feeling built in the pit of her stomach as she was going over her text messages with her brother.

There was an evident change of tone in his texts, she concluded. He had been affectionate and playful only three days ago. By contrast, his recent messages were laconic and dispassionate, including the one thanking her for the present.

The next-gen consoles were in short supply, and as soon as some stock popped online, it would be snatched up by scalpers almost instantly. That day, as soon as she got the tweet about a fresh batch of consoles arriving at Best Buy, she dropped everything and went to war against the bots.

She had been glued to the screen for nearly two hours, determined to secure the new Xbox. Thankfully, after numerous failed attempts, she lucked out. She threw into the cart a couple of controllers from the Elite series. She added the Xbox wireless headset and a 1TB storage expansion card. All in all, she spent over a grand on him. And what was his reaction?

"Saw the Xbox. Thank you."

To say that she was insulted would be the understatement of the year. Still, she figured he would want to spend some time with her when she was off work, to show her his gratitude. He didn't. He spent the night at Bobby's, just like every night.

The next day, she learned about the developments between him and their father, developments he hadn't said a word about. She saw his new motorcycle sitting pretty in the garage. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

Skylar was scrolling up and down their texts when a car pulled up to the house. She held her phone still as she strained to hear the outer world. Not long after, she heard him bounding up the stairs, and a second later, his door closed.

It was now or never.

*

"Yeah?"

Skylar opened the door. "Hi."

Her brother but glanced at her. "Hey."

Skylar closed the door behind her while Lucas stared nervously into the open closet. She saw her presents in the corner of the room. Still in the bag. Unloved.

"So um... what's up?"

"Nuthin'," he replied.

She scoffed. "Really? So you and Dad talking again is nothing?"

He fetched a clean shirt from the top shelf, swallowing as he did.

"Yeah, I heard all about it. Funny you haven't mentioned it."

He tossed the clothes on the bed and faced her. He had to face her sooner or later.

"Wanna tell me what's going on?"

"I'm leaving."

A sharp pang of pain hit her chest. "Leaving?"

He bobbed his head, the look on her face wringing his heart.

"Where are you going?"

"Sacramento."

"Sacramento? Like... the one in California?"

He nodded affirmatively.

"What? Why?"

"To become a lawyer."

Skylar simply gaped at him, flabbergasted.

"A friend of Dad's has a firm there. He's gonna employ me and tutor me for the next four years."

"I... I don't understand. Don't you like... need to go to law school to become a lawyer?"

Lucas gave a sigh. "It's called 'reading the law', an alternative to law school. It's how folks became lawyers in the old days. It's pretty unconventional, but some states still allow it, and California is one of them."

Skylar was in a daze, and her brown eyes seemed to be perpetually caught in a flared-out state. "But I thought you wanted to be a writer."

Her brother gave a defeated shrug of shoulders. "Maybe in the next life."

He collected his clothes and crammed them into a backpack.

"So you're just gonna give up on your dreams? Move halfway across the country just to please him?"

"It's... it's the right thing to do."

"For whom?! Certainly not for you! You don't want to be a lawyer!"

"Yeah, well, maybe I'll warm up to it."

"Or maybe you grow a fucking spine and tell him no."

"And what good will that do? Huh? He's trying."

"Yeah, trying to bend you to his will."

Under normal circumstances, Skylar would never dream of sabotaging her father and brother's relationship. Under normal circumstances.

"Or maybe you're too blind to see that? Too enamored with that shiny new bike he got you?"

"The bike's got nothing to do with it."

"Okay, then why?" She crossed her arms, shifting her weight onto her left foot. "Explain it to me, Lucas."

Lucas heaved a sigh of despair. "Because if I don't do this, if I turn him down, then we are done. He and I... we're done."

"So your brilliant solution is to roll over and give in. Jesus Christ, are you that desperate for his approval?"

"Don't go there, Skylar."

"You talk a good game, but at the end of the day, you just want your daddy to tell you 'atta boy' and give you a pat on the back."

"Like you'd know anything about that, princess!" he snapped, and his sister recoiled in fear. "You wouldn't know what it's like to have to compete for his love and attention! You wouldn't know what it's like to be treated like a second-class citizen, now would you?!"

Skylar was stumped. The explosiveness in his reaction had her shook.

"All you ever had to do is bat those big brown eyes of yours to get your way around here. You don't get to lecture me."

Lucas's phone vibrated on the bed. He picked it up. "Yeah, be right down."

The lull, though brief, allowed Skylar to regain her senses. "What... what does Bobby think about this?"

Her brother slid his phone into his pocket. "He doesn't know yet."

"I see," she murmured, her stomach knotting in dismay. "So, if you're leaving, where does it leave us?"

Lucas raked his hair back, sighing as he did.

"Where does it leave us?" she repeated.

His gaze crossed hers, and a crack ran along her heart.

"Say the words," she requested seconds later.

Her brother shook his head helplessly in reply.

"Go ahead, Lucas, say the goddamn words!"

He felt a lump in his throat as he whispered, "It's over."

She looked daggers at him, tears filling her eyes. She wanted to slap him across the face; she wanted to beg him to reconsider. She did neither however.

She spun around and made toward the door.

"Skylar..."

She ignored him.

"Skylar!"

* * * * *

"... while he was still chewing away, the first dwarf came back and announced that the sledge was ready. The White Witch rose and went out, ordering Edmund to go with her. The snow was again falling as they came into the courtyard, but she took no notice of that and made Edmund sit beside her on the sledge ..."

Lucas had been sitting in his chair for over an hour while Bobby read to his grandmother from his favorite childhood books. It was a ritual by now. Every day, for half a day, they would sit by her side, and Bobby would read her the stories she had once read to him. This was a special one. The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.

Lucas recalled wistfully those rare occasions when he slept over at his friend's house when the two were younglings. It's not that he wasn't welcome. In fact, he had received many invitations from Mrs. Roberts over the years. His father, however, had often objected, believing that they would be abusing her hospitality.