It was a long, quiet drive back to the city after dropping Mai off in Alameda. Friday night traffic over the Bay Bridge and around Hospital Curve was painfully slow, as usual, but I eventually made it off the freeway and up the surface streets to my place. On Fridays I'd often have a session at the gym with a trainer, but I'd already texted them earlier that I wouldn't be coming. My workout duffel was still in the back seat. Maybe I'd do some kind of routine this weekend.

I found a relatively close parking spot, curbed my wheels to appease the parking patrol. I pulled out the duffel and my laptop bag and swiftly walked down the hill to the metal gate at the front door of my building. I keyed into the small entry space and checked the mailbox. The interior fluorescent light clicked on automatically, if a bit delayed. The neighborhood was relatively safe, but the sudden light often gave me a little start when it was dark out. Which it often was by the time I came home. I held my laptop bag a little closer to my body as I left the small shared foyer and went down the cramped hallway to my apartment door.

I was in one of two units on the first floor, which meant I shared both a wall and ceiling with my neighbors, but it was still quiet for a residence in the city. The other apartment in the back was owned by a professional couple a little younger than me, who must've found their excitement away from home. The upstairs was a single floor occupied by an elderly couple who had originally owned the building outright before going condo. And, of course, it was only me in my place. Frankly, the fewer people the better.

It was a huge shock getting Mai's call to pick her up at the hospital. It was even more shocking to see her sitting in a wheelchair wearing those thin hospital scrubs and an embarrassed smile. She looked so small sitting there, clutching a plastic bag like a life preserver. Adrift and alone.

Mai was always the instigator when we were growing up. From the moment she had her driver's license, we were shopping for fashions in vintage clothing shops in the Lower Haight and Mission districts, scouring for anime goods in SF Japantown, and having cookouts and building bonfires at Ocean Beach. I was pulled along in her wake, towed through the waves of high school and college. I floated along, attached by the thinnest of tethers, never doubting it would hold.

Until it didn't.

I was working on my Finance degree. I remember getting back shortly after Thanksgiving break I was triple-checking some data for an economics paper I was turning in by the end of the week. Mai showed up at my off-campus studio apartment looking disconnected and dazed. Her cheek was red and swollen.

"Jamie's gay," she opened, as she sat on my bed. I'd known her brother almost as long as I'd known Mai. He was a pretty, popular boy, so we never hung around in the same circles. But I'd found we enjoyed the same kinds of manga and books. We talked about them together every once in a while as I was waited for Mai on some excuse or other. In groups, he always seemed to be holding himself back – I'd recognized the quick misdirections and tense silences when favorite celebrities or friend's relationships came up. We'd talked around the subject once when Mai wasn't around, and I could feel him weighing his words against his fear. But nothing more. I suspected. He was my friend's sibling. I had my own issues, my own confusion and concern. I didn't have room for his.

"Well, I don't know anything for certain," I equivocated, uncomfortable. But Mai waved a tired hand and continued.

"Well, he is. And I fucked up and outed him to Mom." She looked up, "It was a dumb, off-hand comment while washing dishes. Mom said something about grandkids, and I made a stupid joke about how if Jamie or I were gay, she'd be out of luck." Mai squeezed her eyes shut and pushed the heels of her hands against her forehead. "I don't know why I said that. Mom was just pushing, like she does. So I pushed back a little." I saw her jaw muscle bunch. She stared at the ground, focused at some point in the middle distance.

"I didn't know Jamie was there until the serving plate he'd been holding crashed onto the floor. I'd never seen him so scared. We ran over, and Mom began picking up the broken pieces of the plate, I reached out… I didn't know what he was afraid of," Mai blinked rapidly, taking a deep breath. "He was trembling all over, looking at me… I thought he was hurt or in pain."

I sat hesitantly next to her on the bed. I resisted the urge to hug Mai's back or touch her arm. Her voice was so flat and lifeless. I ached to fix it.

"'How could you,' he said," Mai swallowed. "I could barely hear him." She paused. "But Mom must've. She dropped the pieces of plate and stared up at Jamie from the floor, and started crying."

I sucked in a breath, leaning backwards. My stomach twisted, and I couldn't stop myself from asking, "What'd you do?"

"I just stood there like a fucking idiot," she groaned, shaking her head.

"Where's Jamie?" I asked.

"I don't know," she squeezed her eyes shut. "He ran," she rubbed her head with her knuckles, then pressed them to her temples, eyes still closed. "Dad came out to find out what was going on. Mom blurted out, 'Jamie's gay', sobbing in a heap on the floor. It was surreal," Mai looked up at me, an incredulous look on his face. "I was like, 'What the fuck is going on? What's the big deal? Jamie's gay, so what?'"

I felt a guilty sense of relief wash over me, the breath I didn't realize I was holding escaping in a voiceless sigh. Until I saw Mai's face, staring in lost confusion. "He hit me." Her voice was thin, and her chin trembled like a lost child.

"Oh my God." I immediately cradled her head in my heads, turning her cheek so I could get a closer look. It was red and hot. Mai pulled gingerly away, but I felt an answering heat travel up my neck and burn my eyes. I leapt up to get an ice pack and a washcloth.

"Mom pulled at him from the ground, and I got away from him. But he kept struggling and swearing. At me, at Mom… at Jamie. Called him every kind of name. I ran out." She looked up at me, her eyes focusing on me for the first time. "God, Kris," she whispered, the tears finally falling, rolling down her cheeks. "What do I do?"

Stolen story; please report.

"God, Mai." I had no words. Of course I knew her parents. Mr. Carrigan owned an office supply business. In my memories he was a portly and pleasant middle-aged guy, maybe a little on the conservative side. But the thought of him getting physical with anyone was unbelievable. He coached our soccer team when I was a kid. He helped me move to college our freshman year. It was hard to reconcile that with the scene Mai described.

Mai asked me to help find Jamie, then she left soon after. Over the next few days I tried to help her track him down. Mai was frantic, she missed a week of school searching, asking Jamie's friends, his school, places she knew he went to. But in the end, I was the one who found him first.

He was staying with a friend of his– I know Mai went to their house, maybe more than once, with no success. I didn't tell Mai, I just went to their place alone and knocked on the door. His friend's mom answered, but Jamie showed himself pretty quickly when he heard who it was. He had dark brown hair shaved on the sides. His hair pulled up in a messy top knot this morning, rather than his usual overgroomed style. His light brown eyes were downcast and shifted from side to side. But the facial features, the sulky stance – they were so obviously siblings, him and Mai. He was in a pair of ripped jeans and a long white t-shirt with a print of Dragonball Z. It must have been a borrowed shirt, as I knew Jamie didn't watch the show. Despite his height, the over-large shirt made him look significantly younger than the 17 he was. He stepped out onto the porch, but I noticed he warily searched the street, and he kept the front door open and in sight.

"Are you okay?" I began, as I stepped back and to the side, giving him space.

"Yeah. Fine." He responded listlessly. His eyes continued to look everywhere but in my direction.

"I heard what happened from Mai," I began vaguely, but Jamie quickly turned to the side, averting his face when I mentioned his sister's name.

"Can I help somehow?" I offered after a silence.

"I dunno," he replied curtly, still facing away. "What can you do?" A flat-voiced challenge.

I breathed for a moment, hating this. All of it. Why were people so messy and difficult? A flash of irritation rose up, and I pushed it back down. That wouldn't help.

"Mai's worried," I tried again, but he interrupted, shooting a glare in my direction.

"Oh, Mai's worried. Oh, then for God's sake, let's drop everything and fix it for Mai." He bit out his words, and looked at me with narrowed and wet eyes.

"She is," I replied weakly, off balance from the unexpected attack.

"What about you, Kris? Hunh? What are you feeling?" He turned to face me directly. He was about the same height as me, and of the same wiry build, but wider. As he stepped forward I involuntarily backed up, "Did you tell her you want to fuck her yet?"

I slapped him. Hard. I don't know why. My hand moved. It was like I was just watching it happen. I was breathing hard, staring at my rapidly reddening palm. I still felt the stinging, prickling pain pulse through the fingers and the bones of my hand. Jamie's cheek was turning scarlet, in the same spot where Mai's bruise was just starting to fade.

"Fuck you and your sympathy. Fuck Mai," he spat. His eyes were fierce, tears leaking down.

"She didn't know!" I yelled at him. "It was an accident, she didn't know anything until you made a scene!"

"So my life's ruined now because of a fucking accident?" He glared. "I can't go home because my parents think I'm a sinner. I called Mom, she said she 'loves me unconditionally', but she can't accept. Who. I. Am!" He punctuated the air between us with a jabbing index finger, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Dad fucking turned off my phone! I don't have a home anymore! What do I care what Mai feels?" His speech grew louder and louder, and I shrunk back.

"She wants to help," I began again, my voice quiet and small.

"Then she can leave me the fuck alone!" he screamed, shaking.

After that, his friend's mom came out, folded her arms in a worn but firm pose, and asked me to leave. I did.

I didn't tell Mai. I heard later that she'd talked to Jamie somehow, that he said he never wanted to see her again. She told me she went back home once to get some things, to move out. But Jamie was long gone by then.

✦ ✦ ✦

Inside my apartment, I dropped my laptop bag and duffle on a chair and moved to the little kitchenette. It was a modest 1 bedroom, with a connected kitchen and great room taking up most of the square footage in front. I'd bought a small Ikea table to create some separation, and there was a sofa, coffee table, TV, and various media equipment in front, but it still felt a little cavernous and empty for its small size. I occasionally dabbled in baking and crafting homemade herbal infusions in the kitchen, but that was about it. The bedroom was less than a third of the size, but felt packed with my desk, wardrobe, and bed. I holed up there when I was home for any length of time.

I pulled out a bottle of soju from the refrigerator door and a little glass cup from the slick white melamine cupboard. I poured the glass almost full, then took both bottle and glass to the small table and sat down. The cool liquid poured down my throat, leaving a lingering grapefruit and alcohol fume to permeate my mouth. I poured another glass.

That foreign man at Mai's place was unexpected. Mai and I hadn't talked much recently, but I knew she'd had a boyfriend or two over time. Mai hadn't lived with anyone before, as far as I knew. Maybe I'm reading too much into it.

It wasn't my business. Mai was an adult. So was I for that matter. We were so busy, we rarely had a chance to see each other. But that didn't keep me from turning it over and over in my mind. In the end, I finished the second glass, more measured this time, and still hadn't sorted out my thoughts on the matter.

If the man was Mai's current… partner, that was a good thing, I finally concluded. Mai didn't seem like she should be alone right now. She hadn't mentioned any pain, but she must still be recovering from the accident. And having someone around after getting screwed over at work has to be beneficial, too.

The image of Mai waving at her front door with a stretched smile and those ill-fitting hospital scrubs flashed in my mind. How her muscles tensed when we hugged. She had to still be in significant pain from her injuries, even if she had painkillers from the hospital. Her body warmth felt a little hot to me through the thin fabric. I could tell how distressed she was, even though she was trying to hide it.

What if that foreign man wasn't actually staying there? Maybe he was only visiting? Or maybe he wasn't that close. It would be just like Mai to hint otherwise to deflect any pity or concern. That was both a relief and a worry. Would Mai be okay all weekend? She might need some prescriptions picked up if she was by herself. Could she even get something to eat? She could always have something delivered, but could she afford that while she was unemployed?

More and more potential complications arose as I sat there, drinking and thinking. By the time I finished the bottle, I'd made up my mind to drop by tomorrow. Just to check in. See if she needed a meal, or errands run. The alcohol fuzzed in my brain. Even if that guy is still there, Mai might need something she couldn't ask him. Something only a close friend could help with. I laid my head on the table and pushed the empty glass around with my finger. A felt a sloppy smile tugging at the corners of my mouth as different scenes played out in my mind.

And if he's bothering her, I thought, droopy eyes glancing over at the duffle… maybe I could play hero for her.