unattractive to me. That
was the feeling I needed to go with.
“Look, Lucas, this isn’t a contest—I love Zach and he
loves me. You and I are strictly friends—nothing more, and
honestly, barely even that,” I replied, intentionally ignoring
his question. “So do you want to know more about your
brother or not? If not, there’s the door,” I said pointing to the
hallway.
“Of course I do, Ru! Is it my fault that I find you
irresistible?” Lucas relaxed a little and lined up for the break.
After the balls came to rest he handed me the stick. “I want to
know more about my brother than just the fact that he had
excellent taste in women.”
Quick—somebody hand me the pesticide! Swallowing
a gallon of the stuff was about the only way I could see to get
rid of the fluttering
in
my
stomach once
and for all.
“Seriously, Lucas—enough!” I managed to say in spite of all
the beating wings working their way through me. “What do
you want to know about Lee?”
“Everything you want to tell me and even some of
what you don’t. Please, don’t hold anything back.”
So I started at the beginning, as far back as I could
remember, even telling him some things that I’d only heard
from my father. We took turns shooting the ball around the
table until we eventually sunk the last ball and then we did it
again. Lucas listened quietly but became visibly excited when
I told him what a good artist Lee was.
“Really?
I’ve always liked to draw, too!” he
proclaimed.
Then
his
excitement
spiraled
down
into
insecurity. “But I’m not that good at it—I’m sure Lee was
better.”
For the first time, I saw what felt like the real Lucas—
the one that hid beneath all of that bravado.
Death had a
funny
way
of making
people perfect.
It must
be tough
comparing yourself to someone who didn’t seem to have any
flaws. I put Lee on a pedestal not realizing how it might make
Lucas feel.
“I don’t know. Do you want to find out?” I asked as I
tore a sheet out of my dad’s notebook and found a pencil to go
with it. “Here,” I said handing it to him, “Draw something.”
He took the paper and pencil with a grin. “Okay, I
want to draw you. Pose for me.”
In all the time we were together, Lee never asked me
to pose for him.
All he wanted to draw was the cemetery
where his
dad was
buried—headstones, mausoleums, the
crows in the trees. I wasn’t exactly sure how to pose so Lucas
just had me relax back in the recliner and then he positioned
my arms and legs how he wanted them.
I was surprised at how quickly he finished with the
drawing. “There. What do you think? Who’s better—me or
Lee?”
When I caught a glimpse of his work, I gasped. “Lucas!
That’s amazing! How did you do that so fast? You’re
definitely the better artist—by far!” The sketch he did of me
was perfect.
It looked just like me except I was pretty sure
that my penciled likeness’s bra size was a full cup size larger
than my own. I decided to overlook that one minor detail.
“Really? Do you think so?” he asked excitedly. “You
can tell me the truth, you know.”
“That is the truth, Lucas. Lee was good, but you’re
definitely better.”
Obviously overcome with pride, Lucas returned to the
pool table and took his shot. “Tell me more about him. I want
to know everything.”
We continued our game as I related every detail of
Lee’s life that I could think of until I got to the day of his death.
This was going to be the hard part especially since I still
partially blamed myself for what happened that day.
But I
couldn’t hold anything back because Lucas deserved to know
the truth about how Lee died—the whole truth.
When I was
finished explaining
my
role
in
what
happened that night, Lucas had an odd reaction. He started to
laugh.
“What’s so funny? I just told you that Lee would have
turned that car around if I hadn’t turned into a succubus!
If I
hadn’t seduced him, your brother would still be
was the feeling I needed to go with.
“Look, Lucas, this isn’t a contest—I love Zach and he
loves me. You and I are strictly friends—nothing more, and
honestly, barely even that,” I replied, intentionally ignoring
his question. “So do you want to know more about your
brother or not? If not, there’s the door,” I said pointing to the
hallway.
“Of course I do, Ru! Is it my fault that I find you
irresistible?” Lucas relaxed a little and lined up for the break.
After the balls came to rest he handed me the stick. “I want to
know more about my brother than just the fact that he had
excellent taste in women.”
Quick—somebody hand me the pesticide! Swallowing
a gallon of the stuff was about the only way I could see to get
rid of the fluttering
in
my
stomach once
and for all.
“Seriously, Lucas—enough!” I managed to say in spite of all
the beating wings working their way through me. “What do
you want to know about Lee?”
“Everything you want to tell me and even some of
what you don’t. Please, don’t hold anything back.”
So I started at the beginning, as far back as I could
remember, even telling him some things that I’d only heard
from my father. We took turns shooting the ball around the
table until we eventually sunk the last ball and then we did it
again. Lucas listened quietly but became visibly excited when
I told him what a good artist Lee was.
“Really?
I’ve always liked to draw, too!” he
proclaimed.
Then
his
excitement
spiraled
down
into
insecurity. “But I’m not that good at it—I’m sure Lee was
better.”
For the first time, I saw what felt like the real Lucas—
the one that hid beneath all of that bravado.
Death had a
funny
way
of making
people perfect.
It must
be tough
comparing yourself to someone who didn’t seem to have any
flaws. I put Lee on a pedestal not realizing how it might make
Lucas feel.
“I don’t know. Do you want to find out?” I asked as I
tore a sheet out of my dad’s notebook and found a pencil to go
with it. “Here,” I said handing it to him, “Draw something.”
He took the paper and pencil with a grin. “Okay, I
want to draw you. Pose for me.”
In all the time we were together, Lee never asked me
to pose for him.
All he wanted to draw was the cemetery
where his
dad was
buried—headstones, mausoleums, the
crows in the trees. I wasn’t exactly sure how to pose so Lucas
just had me relax back in the recliner and then he positioned
my arms and legs how he wanted them.
I was surprised at how quickly he finished with the
drawing. “There. What do you think? Who’s better—me or
Lee?”
When I caught a glimpse of his work, I gasped. “Lucas!
That’s amazing! How did you do that so fast? You’re
definitely the better artist—by far!” The sketch he did of me
was perfect.
It looked just like me except I was pretty sure
that my penciled likeness’s bra size was a full cup size larger
than my own. I decided to overlook that one minor detail.
“Really? Do you think so?” he asked excitedly. “You
can tell me the truth, you know.”
“That is the truth, Lucas. Lee was good, but you’re
definitely better.”
Obviously overcome with pride, Lucas returned to the
pool table and took his shot. “Tell me more about him. I want
to know everything.”
We continued our game as I related every detail of
Lee’s life that I could think of until I got to the day of his death.
This was going to be the hard part especially since I still
partially blamed myself for what happened that day.
But I
couldn’t hold anything back because Lucas deserved to know
the truth about how Lee died—the whole truth.
When I was
finished explaining
my
role
in
what
happened that night, Lucas had an odd reaction. He started to
laugh.
“What’s so funny? I just told you that Lee would have
turned that car around if I hadn’t turned into a succubus!
If I
hadn’t seduced him, your brother would still be
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