Noah Silas Anderson

Chapter Seventy-five: "Care"

"Oh. Hey, Noah," Brooklyn said to me. She caught me staring in the mail room of our building. I straightened up and wet my lips, playing it cool - or trying to, I mean.

"Hey, girl. What's up, that package for me?" I played with her about the Amazon packages she had in her arms.

"Nothing you'd like." She smiled and I watched until it faded away.
I liked that all her smiles were genuine, never those quick ones people did just to say they did it and get you out of their face.
And damn is she gorgeous. I mean, in the middle of the day with no where to go but her own apartment, she looked... wow.
There's been beautiful women I've seen, for sure, but I don't know - I'm just really attracted to Brooklyn all across the board.

"I know it's only your first week out here, but-"

"If you're about to ask me out, don't," she said. "Ask one of your many other girls; and I don't mean to sound insecure or, like, jealous but I'm not falling for your shit now." Brooks poked my chest and walked away.

She had on these mid-rise training leggings, the cleanest pair of white Nike sneakers I've ever seen, a black short-sleeved v-neck shirt, and her long hair blown out but fuller and more fluffy like she didn't care to straighten it after.

"See, I wasn't going to offer a date, or nothing - that's not my thing."

"Well now that you say it isn't your thing, I want to go on one." Crazy, confusing girl. I had to laugh.

"You move fast, but I'm not that type of guy," I said back, turning as she walked in a circle around me. And she wore this meticulous smile, making me smirk as I watched her eyes on me.

"Like what you see?"

"I mean, do you?"

I shrugged and she rolled those pretty green-brown eyes.

"Bye," she pulled, walking through the door.

*

Later on, I spotted Brooklyn in the parking lot. We had both just got out of our cars.
Okay, I'll admit: I saw her pull up and I waited in mine so we could cross paths again.

I sped up to be in front of Brooklyn before we exited the lot. She laughed, I heard, so I turned and acted shocked to see her.

"You don't have to follow me," I joked, stopping in place finally.

She batted her long eyelashes and turned her lips into a soft smile. Honestly, she looked tired. But still, beautiful, I can't stress that enough. She didn't have on makeup unlike earlier in the mail room and I appreciated her bare face. Brooklyn had no freckles or beauty marks, but skin clear as glass, undereye bags that she made look adorable, and a defined top lip. Her hair, now in a lazy ponytail that swept her lower back.

"Ya caught me," she returned.

"You want to do something?" I asked boldly.

"I thought we said earlier-"

"I remember," I cut her off. We started strolling through the garden, neither of us wanting to end the conversation.

"I don't mean dinner or a movie, you're not special." What I said earned me a playful push off the edge of the sidewalk.

"Okay," she dragged her words, "if not dinner and a movie, then what? A motel sounds good, y'know; I'm in the mood to eavesdrop on affairs and drug deals."

My eyes widened at her humor. "Well as fun as that sounds, no, but next time."

"There's gonna be a next time, you know that already?"

"You'll want to see more of me," I assured her confidently.

Brooklyn nodded with an amused frown.

So I asked, "Can I have your car keys?"

*

"Okay, okay," I came down from my laughing high. I turned the radio down and sat back in my seat after shaking my plastic cup and hearing only ice. "Enough of that, I want to get to know you."

Brooklyn wiped the tear from her eye from laughing so hard and looked at me. "But I just told you; my favorite color is-"

"Not that bullshit," I shook my head and swallowed, "anyone can find that out. I don't care about that."

"Well, what do you care about, Noah?"

I smirked, my arm behind her headrest in the car. "Aheh, I like when you say my name. But," I scratched the hair growing down my neck, "I care about my health, Gael, progression."

"Progression?"

I nodded. "My parents always wanted me to be very active and vocal about social justice. I never learned about Martin Luther King Junior or Rosa Parks - in my house we looked up to people like Fred Hampton because he was a great leader and we know how corrupt the system is. They were real and raw, and right. I wish I could've been smarter and became a lawyer but I feel like that's still kind of 'working for the man.' I wouldn't wanna be in a courtroom that long anyway."

Brooklyn laughed at the last bit. "I like that, and I'm glad you think that way. My mom's Hispanic and all our help was Hispanic or black and they practically raised me. Once I got old enough to understand, I kind of felt wrong for having them work for us, I hated how it looked. So, I listened to them and tried understanding their plight. The system was fucked long before our generation had anything to do with it. I try to educate myself all the time and I see what you mean about progression; if we don't advance and evolve, we'll die - history will repeat. I wish I could do more to help but at the very least, we can acknowledge our privilege and start there."

"I have. Can I say I'm surprised you're holding this conversation."

She giggled. "What did you expect, me to be vapid?"

"I don't really know what that means, but I think so," I said, making Brooklyn laugh again.

"I like seeing you laugh and smile." I don't know why I said that, it just came out.

"Where are we?" Brooklyn changed the subject, trying to see outside at the darkness.

I shone the headlights and revealed a new mansion under construction.

"Wanna go inside?" I asked, reaching for the door handle.

"Are we allowed?" asked Brooklyn.

I hopped out and walked to the passenger side where she sat. Brooks pushed the door open and stared at me, nervous.

"Well there's no door yet so it's not locked," I shrugged. "I don't see why not."

A smile crept onto her face and I took that as a yes so I shut the door once she stepped foot outside the SUV.

Unintentionally walking with the same foot, we approached the structure.

"I don't know why but this is so cool," she breathed out.

"It's the process - knowing what it's going to be but appreciating what it is as it goes."

"Wow," Brooklyn said and I looked at her funny. When I asked what she meant, she said, "Didn't think you'd say something so profound," and we laughed together.

***

"-I'm happy I met your dad today, I really like him," Brooklyn said at random.

I looked over my shoulder at her in bed and finally removed my watch.

"I'm glad," I replied, chuckling.

Brooklyn sat up as soon as I got under her covers.

"Remember that one night - it was like the first week I moved here - and you took me to this house being built?"

"Uh," I thought about it and suddenly remembered but it was kind of hazy. "Yeah. Why?"

"I asked you what you cared about and you said progression, and Gael, and-"

I rolled my wrist to rush her to get to the point. "And?"

She swallowed, adjusting the position of her hand holding her head up. "Has that changed?"

"What, no? I still care about Gael and the system - that won't change," I clarified.

She shook her head. "Have you added anything to the list, I mean?"

I exhaled lightly through my nose and locked my fingers behind my head under the cool side of the pillow. "Uh... yeah; Rick and Emereigh."

"Hm." Brooklyn sounded and put her head on my chest where she could hear my heart beating.
Strands of her hair dragged across my lips and face as Brooklyn made herself comfortable but I'd gotten used to it and brushed it onto her pillow.

I'm not dumb, I know what she wanted to hear. And I said it. "I care about Cassie now, too, she's like a little sister. Not even 'like,' she is my sister. And I care about you, too."

I know Brooklyn was smiling, I didn't even have to look down at her face to tell.

"How?"

"You're asking how I care about you, like you're insecure and doubtful that anyone could care about you, or how much?"

"I'm asking how you care about me."

I inhaled, feeling Brooklyn move along with my chest breathing.

I paused to think of the right things to say, but the best responses are the ones from the heart - the ones you don't have to think about.

"I care about you like I don't want to see you get hurt. Like, not on some cheesy, emo, melodramatic Romeo and Juliette shit, but I'd- never mind. I care about you, I can't explain how, but I just do if that's good enough."

She didn't say anything.

I continued. "I care about your well-being - I learned that word in health class in like tenth grade. I want to make sure you eat breakfast and you don't get cramps before or during a game. I care about how you go about things because if you make a wrong move, there's an endless list of consequences and I don't want to see you get hurt."

"You said that," Brooklyn commented.

"I'm saying it again because I mean it. How do I care about you? I care about you how I hope you care about me: deep, strong. A lot."

"You never asked me what I care about."

"What do you care about, Brooklyn?"

"I care about..." she stopped and giggled quietly. "I care about all the little things, the moments. Like, when you kiss the top of my head. Or, after sex when you make sure I pee or if you don't come inside of me, you like washing me off. And the feeling I get when you hold my hand in public. I even care about our fights because it's like, you care. Ya know?"

"No, I don't know," I laughed.

Brooklyn smacked her lips and covered my face with a pillow.

She straddled my lap and locked our fingers, her hair dangling in my face.

"You ever say a word so much it doesn't sound right?" She asked me.

"What word?"

"Care."

"Care?" I repeated and let myself hear how it sounded. "Care. Care? Care? It does sound weird."

"Can you always care about me? Like this? I don't want things to change, I'm scared of change, I think. Not, like, in the world. And, I do like switching routine - waking up and going to the same place gets boring. I had to find a new route to work because I got so fucking bored of the way I was going. But, I think... I don't like the idea of getting used to you - and us, like this - and then realizing it won't be like this one day. T-that one of us is going to do, or say, something to piss the other off and it becomes this whole big thing and then... we're done. And the thought that, like, I'll have to get to know another guy is fucking frustrating because there's not another you. People are exhausting, and I refuse to sit down at dinner and have a guy go 'so tell me about yourself' and expect me to tell him my life story o-or what my favorite color is, where I grew up, and how I like my eggs in the morning or whatever the fuck else."

I said, "Scrambled. No, you like omelettes - vegetable omelettes with mushrooms, fried onions, and sometimes - but not always - cheese, right? Yeah, I think yousaid too much dairy makes your face break out."

"Guess what," Brooklyn said with a wide smile. Her lips pecked my nose and she rocked on my lap side to side.

"What?" I asked, kissing any piece of flesh I could reach.

"You're making me breakfast in the morning!" She sang it at the top of her lungs and off-pitch but it made me laugh how she randomly broke out in song.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I rolled off my couch and forced myself to answer the door.

Whoever it is, I don't care. I'm in the mood to be bothered.

"Oh so you are alive? Good to know," my father said, flailing his arms.

I blinked with my head against the door and waited for him to say or do something other than be sarcastic.

He walked right in, though. Unwelcome.

"I'm alive, you see me, I see you. You can leave now, right?"

"What's in your ass? Don't say Gael, either," he laughed.

I sat back down and resumed my cartoon marathon.

"Oh come on, it was a bro joke, I know you guys haven't made it to third base, yet," Dad continued to joke across the room. I shook my head and turned the television up.

"Noah," he sighed, walking in front of the tv.

I curled my face and tried looking around his body, but couldn't. I sucked my teeth and tossed the remote to my right on the cushion.

"What?"

"You weren't at the gym today, I missed you. What happened to being my trainer? I got a woman to impress now."

"That makes one of us," I grumbled, standing to walk to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water. I slid Dad one as he stood on the other side of the centered island.

"Is it Brooklyn?" he asked me, sounding awfully concerned.

I nodded, finishing the plastic bottle.

"Gonna tell me what happened or do I have to pry?"

My head shook. "It's a lot, it's stupid."

"It's not stupid if it's hurting your feelings, son-"

"My feelings aren't hurt, okay? My feelings don't get hurt, especially not by a girl, her parents, or her stupid ass ex."

"Will?"

"Yeah, him." My jaw clenched just thinking about the little prick. William Vanderbilt of the Texas Vanderbilts. Ugh, give me a break.

"Well, I got all day so, whenever you're ready," Dad eased.

I inhaled and parted my lips to speak about the situation and what all went down that's been bothering me, I guess.

*

"- and she was so aggressive and don't get me wrong it was hot, but," I talked and Dad stopped me there.

"You wanted to make love?"

"Well don't make it sound so gay, but yeah," I laughed it off at the dinner table by the window.

"I hate to sound old school but listen," he said "anyone can fuck. Now, a happily married couple can still fuck. But not just anyone can make love. There's something special about making eye contact and wanting to get even closer than being inside of each other and taking your time, exploring someone's body."

As weird as it was to hear that shit from my own father and imagine what he's possibly doing with Asia, he's right.

"I just feel like a fucking asshole. I told her I love her and-" I stopped talking and hung my head.

"Don't cry, son," Dad told me, reaching across the table to tap my elbow.

"I'm not," I insisted, sitting back, "it just sucks."

"I take it she didn't say it back."

"She didn't have to, that's the thing. I just wanted something, but she just got all weird so I left. Shit hasn't been the same since her parents came and fucked us up. We were fine before all this, before I met them, before she met you."

Dad nodded. "Sorry," I spoke up, "I don't mean I didn't want you to meet, I just - I don't know."

"No, you meant it. I mean, you said it. I get it, Noah, I do. Maybe things got too serious for her and she's not ready."

"But how isn't she ready? There's no fucking way I feel like this and she doesn't feel anything."

"Noah, people fall in love at different times. You're both strong," he said back.

I thought about what he said and stared out at the view of the city.

"I gotta go, Noah, but thanks for the talk. She'll come around," he said after standing over my body and putting his hand on my shoulder. I looked at it, my leg shaking under the table. "I love you, if that means anything to you."

Dad walked all the way to the door and then stopped. He said, "And about her parents; remember when you didn't care what other people thought?"