The Bad Boys and the Fighter

17

ARIEL

I laid on the sectional, wrapped up in Cole's arms. Jeremiah slept on the ground underneath us, Tyler laid on the smaller couch, and Carlos was cramped on the love seat, but he didn't seem to mind very much. The moonlight peered down into the house through the sliding glass doors and sky lights above the living room.

Despite Tyler and I being the only ones awake, no words were exchanged. Our attention was directed towards the television, whose screen had become a large slideshow of pictures of the family that owned the house. Their lives had been depicted all over. Every single picture from when the kids were older than seven or eight lacked their parents. It was like they had dropped of the face of the earth, leaving only their two children.

Videos played on the TV every once in a while. The video that had just started playing seemed to portray them as happy teenagers leading luxurious lives. They were around sixteen in the video. The girl, called "Clem" by her brother affectionately, wore stripped shorts and a matching top. Her taller, twin brother was clad in khaki shorts, a slightly un-buttoned white button down, and loafers.

Clem was facing the rose bush they were in front of, using a pocket knife to chop off a perfect, red rose. Once she succeeded, she handed the pocket knife to her brother who slipped it back in his pocket. The girl faced the camera and positioned the rose neatly in front of her body, her fingers working to carefully avoid the thorns.

"Ready?" A masculine voice probably belonging to a man in his late twenties asked from behind the camera.

"Ready," the brother called out, straightening his stance.

The video cut off, and the slideshow of pictures resumed.

"What do you think happened to them?" I whispered to Tyler.

It took a moment for him to respond. "I don't know. I don't think I'd want to know, either."

We sat in silence for a few moments until I blurted, "I'm sorry."

Tyler sat up and looked at me. "What are you sorry for?"

"Dragging you into this. If I had pushed more, if I had tried to be more unpleasant, maybe you guys wouldn't be in this mess."

"If there's one thing you should know about Cole, it's that he's incredibly persistent. To the point where it's annoying. He wouldn't have walked away just because you gave him the cold shoulder, and the three of us wouldn't have left him on his own. As smart and capable as that oaf is, he can't even make pasta without our help. Imagine if he had to take care of himself and watch you. It'd be a disaster."

I chuckled at his seemingly simple yet comforting words. Over the past few weeks I had noticed Tyler becoming more serious. He wasn't the class clown I had come to known, he was future neurosurgeon Tyler Connors.

"Why are you and Cole still friends?" I asked. "How come you didn't walk away at the beginning of everything, and leave Carlos and Jeremiah to you know..."

"I knew too much to morally walk away. I definitely could have a few years ago, but once they got in deep with the whole dealing thing, I knew they'd mess up at some point. They've been my best friends for a while...I couldn't just leave them to fend for themselves."

There was something Tyler was neglecting to tell me, but I let it be. I'd find out sooner or later.

"I think their parents died," Tyler stated after a few minutes of silence. "I think something bad happened to the parents, which is why they aren't pictured anymore. They don't use this house often, but I think this is where they store their memories. Like pictures and mementos."

"Is it better to hold onto the past, or let go of it? Even if some parts were really good."

He was silent for a moment as he pondered. "Let go. The only way you're going to be able to really start living your life is if you focus on the future; things you can control. If we dwell on the suffering we have endured, we're never going to move forward. We need to let go in order to move on."

It seemed as though he spoke from experience. "What are you holding onto?"

"Fear. Disappointment. False hope," Tyler listed. "What I am trying to do, though, is move forward with hope."

"Hope for what?"

"Hope that things will turn out like how I want."

"How do you want things to turn out?"

"Good, I guess. I've wanted to be a neurosurgeon since I was like, six years old. I don't care how I meet my wife, and I don't care if we adopt or have our own kids. I just want a family. I want to be a better father than mine ever was, and I want to take them to places I've never been. I want to save lives, and come to our high school reunions and not care what people think of me. I don't care how I get there, as long as I'm happy." He paused for a moment. "The things that I think will make me happy may not make me happy years from now. And that's okay. I just want to be happy."

I was speechless. For once Tyler was being honest with me, and was letting me in on. apiece of his life he held close to him. 

He rolled his eyes. "How do you want your future to turn out?"

"I don't really know. I think I want to be an environmental lawyer, like Amal Clooney. I guess I just want to be the Chateau that does good in this world. I want to prove everyone wrong."

"You're going to be great. I know you will."

And for once, since this entire, bizarre mess started, I finally felt calm.