“Sabin, you better shut your mouth,” Eric warns. The only reason he hasn’t gotten up is because Zach has a firm grip on his shoulder. “That’s enough.”
“It’s not enough,” Sabin spits out. He gets up and cracks open one of the beer cans that he’s carried in from the balcony. I hadn’t even noticed that he’d taken them inside. He downs half the can of beer and returns to his spot on the table.
We are all quiet while we prepare. It’s the eye of the storm, and I am aware that it’s going to get worse.
“Ask Blythe if I’m right. She’s got to live with that religious nut. Blythe, tell ’em! You don’t believe in that shit. Come on, Stellie’s a little bonkers, right?”
I say nothing. This is not the Sabin I know, and I don’t recognize the surly, nasty attitude that he’s throwing out. Although I’m angry, I’m also worried about him. I know that it’s just the alcohol talking, or mostly it is, but it’s breaking my heart to watch him like this. Estelle hasn’t moved from her spot by the doorway, and she looks equally crushed, incapable of defending herself right now.
Sabin looks at me. “You’re taking their side on this, too?” he demands.
“Don’t answer that,” Chris says.
“Oh, now you’re speaking for Blythe? That’s fucking rich!”
“I’m not speaking for Blythe. I’m telling you to shut the fuck up and lay off.” I can tell how much effort it takes, but he softens his voice as he continues talking. “Sabe. Pull your shit together. You’ve put us through enough tonight.”
Sabin slides off the table and grabs another beer. Then he grabs my arm and pulls me from the couch. I wish more than anything that he would pass out because I don’t like who he is now. This is not my friend. This is a drunk, belligerent, disrespectful version of my friend, but I let him take me from my place with Chris because I don’t want to do anything to antagonize him further.
“C’mon, B. Tell me that you agree with me. You think Estelle is deluded, right? I mean, there are no guardian angels floating around us, no saints, no all-powerful God. No magical being living in the sky.” He wraps an arm around my waist and crushes me against him. Now I’m getting pissed. His hold is too tight, and he’s hurting me. I know he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but it doesn’t make me any less angry.
I make a sound as he crushes my rib cage, and I push back against him. “Knock it off.”
Chris is on his feet in an instant with a firm grasp on Sabin’s upper arm. I can see that his arm is flexed, but his expression and voice remain calm. “Let her go, Sabe.”
With his free hand, Sabin waves the can in the air. “No magical people in the sky, but there are, however, sinners. Right, everyone?”
“Sabin.” Chris is visibly struggling to keep his cool, but he does it. “Get your fucking hands off Blythe. Now.” I’ve never seen Chris like this, with so much rage under the surface. I know he adores his brother, but the cold way he’s looking at Sabin right now wrecks me. “I’m warning you.”
“Oh, I get it, I get it!” Sabin pulls me in harder. “You’re not going to fuck her, but you’ll talk for her? Pussy.”
It feels like it happens out of nowhere. Sabin shoves his mouth roughly against mine, and his tongue gets halfway down my throat before Chris rips him off me. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I am recovering from the caustic taste of beer and bourbon and foolishness as Chris drags Sabin by a fistful of shirt across the room. Chris backs his brother against the wall and holds him there firmly.
Sabin’s eyes are red. “There you go, Chris. Let me have it. You know you want to.” Chris now has both hands twisted up into Sabin’s shirt, and while Sabin may have the size advantage, Chris has the strength advantage. And the clear fury.
“Don’t! Chris, please, don’t!” As pissed off as I am at Sabin, he’s just drunk, and I don’t want Chris hurting him.
“Blythe, I’m not going to hurt him. I want him to calm the fuck down. Now.”
Sabin just won’t stop, though. “I’m just sayin’, Chris. You’ve fucked plenty of other girls, but not Blythe? So what the fuck’s that about, huh? You too good for her? That it?”
The room is dead silent as Chris pulls him forward slightly and then pushes him back against the wall so hard that his head bounces once. I wince at the audible thud, but know as I watch Chris stare into Sabin’s eyes that he won’t really hurt his brother. Despite the hold he’s got on him, Chris shows incredible self-control as he puts his face right to Sabin’s and says just loudly enough that I can hear, “No, you stupid fuck. She’s too good for me.”
I can barely breathe. Nobody moves; nobody speaks.
A few minutes pass while Chris continues to hold Sabin against the wall. “Sabe? Can this be over now?”
Finally Sabin’s body deflates, and he sinks against the wall. He puts a hand on the back of Chris’s head. “I’m sorry, man. I’m so sorry. I’m just drunk. I love you.”
I see the tension in Chris’s shoulders and arms lessen, but he doesn’t let him go yet. “I love you, too. Don’t be so careless with your life. Or with ours.” Chris pats Sabin on the cheek. “Now apologize to Blythe for being a stupid douche bag.”
I am in awe of how well Chris has maintained his composure through this, and how he’s diffused such a volatile situation. Estelle, Zach, and Eric are frozen still near the door, as if moving a muscle might create a new problem.
Sabin rolls his head my way. “Blythe …”
He doesn’t need to say anything to me. While what has just transpired has scared me to some degree, I know that the other side of rage is sadness, and that he’s feeling something incredibly sad tonight. I don’t know what it’s about. But I do know that Chris went easy on Sabin and that there has to be more to this story. So while I’m pissed at Sabin, I mostly feel worried and protective of him. Besides, the absolute remorse on Sabin’s face says it all. I know how it feels when I’m not myself, when everything that I’ve pushed down gets twisted and crazy and resurfaces in the most destructive way possible. I can give Sabin more than leeway because I know him, and I know his heart. “It’s okay.”
“No,” he says, sounding more sober than he has all night. “No, it’s not. I’m a prick.”
“You are. But it’s going to be okay. You went into the deep end of the ocean. I know what that’s like. But now we’re both back.” I cross the room to be by Sabin’s side. I’m not afraid; I am just sad. “Let him go, Chris.”
Chris looks at me for a moment and then at Sabin. “Are you done?” he asks softly. “Did you get it all out?”
“Yeah.”
Chris continues to keep his voice level, almost like a parent talking to a misbehaving child. “If I let you go, and you make one wrong move, I’ll have to—”
Sabin throws his hands up in surrender. “I swear to God.”
“How about you not mention God again for a few minutes?” he says, a touch of a smile on his lips. When Chris releases him and backs off to stand with the others near the door, I wrap my arms around Sabin’s shoulders and hug him. I hold him tightly.
“Don’t hug me,” he says, his arms resting at his side. “I’m a bastard.”
“You’re not a bastard. Look, I know what it’s like to want to lash out. I’ve been there.”
Sabin shrugs.
“So hug me back,” I say.
And then he hugs me back, and he feels like Sabin again. He feels like part of me.
I hear Chris talking softly to Estelle, and I look up from Sabin’s embrace. “It’s over,” I hear him say. “Please don’t be upset. Everything is fine; no one got hurt. No one was going to get hurt. I wasn’t going to let that happen. Do you hear me?”
She looks blankly at him, but her eyes are rimmed with tears.