Re: Si/Jamie: diner
[Jamie hadn't been a big brother. Mars was gone too early to get into the groove after the lessons in how to share. Si had always been an idea instead of lived experience. It was unfamiliar, but that kind of made it easier, just a faded-out familial bond that was theoretical rather than historical. He listened. Smoked his cigarette down to the filter, hard and fast. He was fidgeting with the last of the cigarette, dropped it, crushed it with his sneaker. It was like low voltage, but steady electrical current twitching him. He didn't know the story, but he felt the second-hand embarrassment. Jamie didn't laugh, he couldn't. But it felt like something worked loose. ]
Yeah. You don't lose that stuff. It lingers. [Pause.]
When I was fifteen, I don't think Dad knew. She was around, [Stepmom. It had a lot unsaid about it.] and it was the pre-pro program so I was gone a lot? I met this guy. He was in the company, great dancer. [A little wistfully.] Like going to be amazing, dancer. Hot, kind of like, checked in with the guys who were pre-pro, gave tips and stuff, tightened our turns, told us how to jump. We started something. It went on for a while? But he uh, didn't want stuff to be a big deal, I guess. I walked in on him, with someone else. He told me after, he just didn't want something, someone super needy, it was fun but he just didn't want me anymore. [Jamie didn't laugh. He didn't close his eyes. He looked at the spot where the cigarette end was crushed and spoke to it.]