Rules

by Doe, Anna B.

  Coming to the back terrace, I find Andrew and Jeanette standing close by. I can see the irritation on my sister’s face as she glares at her boyfriend.

  “He needs to know what?” I ask, breaking their little staring game.

  They both turn around abruptly, surprised to see me. The panic on Jeanette’s face is evident, but she reins it in fairly quickly.

  “Max! What are you doing sneaking up on people?”

  “I came out to get some fresh air. It’s worse than the pits of hell inside. But that’s beside the point.” I look between the two of them, the fine hairs at the nape of my neck rising with every second of silence that stretches between our little group. “Who are you keeping secrets from? And what secrets are you keeping?”

  “Max, I…” Jeanette starts, but Andrew stops her. He stands in front of her, lifting his hands in the air.

  “It was my idea. I know we should have told you, but I’m not sorry we didn’t. Had you known, you would have flipped out, and the team needed you. Today showed that.”

  I stare at him, waiting for more. “As far as apologies go, this is a shitty one, Hill. What the fuck is going on?”

  His throat bobs as he swallows, but he doesn’t look away. “A few weeks ago, Brook’s mom came to my house.”

  “Brook’s mom?” My brows furrow. What the hell is he talking about? What does Brook’s mom have to do with anything?

  “Long story short.” He runs his hand over his face. “She and my dad screwed around in the past, and now she’s blackmailing him.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Brook is the result of their affair,” Andrew explains. “Brook is my half-sister.”

  I feel my mouth fall open in surprise. It feels like I’ve walked into another universe. Brook is… Andrew’s sister?

  “I… I still don’t see how that has anything to do with me.”

  “Apparently, my dad helped Brook leave. He gave her the money, which is why her mom was pissed. Without Brook, she can’t blackmail him for more.”

  “But that’s not the only thing.” This comes from Jeanette. She steps around Andrew, her hand gripping his.

  They exchange a long, worried look before they turn their attention back to me. And I know, I simply know whatever they’re about to say will change everything.

  “Brook is pregnant, Max.”

  All the air leaves my lungs. “That’s impossible,” I say, shaking my head. “She would have told me. I asked her, after the accident, and she would have told me.”

  Jeanette comes closer, sorrow and worry written on her face. “When she came to Andrew’s house, Josephine brought a test. It was positive.”

  I stumble back, my head shaking as I gasp for air.

  I asked her, and she said no. I asked her, and she… Brook lied to me.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  BROOK

  Nibbling at my lower lip, I look at the offending paper sitting at the bottom of my single bed. I’ve moved as far away from it as possible without actually falling off the bed, my back pressed against the wooden headboard.

  I should have thrown it out.

  Then why didn’t you?

  I wish I knew.

  Oh, you know. You’re just too big of a coward to admit it.

  “Ugh.” Running my hand through my loose hair, I let my head fall back. Pain radiates through me as it connects with the wall, but I ignore it, happy it shushed the nagging voices in my head.

  Sighing, I look around the room. It’s a small guest room with only a single bed covered in white bedding, a nightstand and a little dressing closet with mirror over it. Not like I need much more than that.

  But your baby does.

  And there it is, the most terrifying thought of all. It’s easy not to need much when you’re used to having so little, but what about the baby? He’ll need more. Hell, he deserves more. And I… I swallow hard, tension setting in my bones. I’m not sure I’m able to give it to him.

  Lifting my shirt a little, I let my hand slide underneath, touching the warm, smooth skin of my stomach. It was still hard to wrap my mind around it, that there is a baby growing inside of me. Somebody who’ll need me to survive. Somebody who’ll depend on me to take care of him. How am I supposed to do that when I can’t take care of myself? When I’m barely surviving as it is? Living under somebody else’s roof.

  The crumpled pamphlet mocks me, daring me to take it.

  There are options.

  My whole body shudders, but I don’t look away. Slowly, I disentangle my limbs, my hand reaching for the paper.

  There is a weight in my stomach, heavy and unsettling, but even that doesn’t stop me.

  There is no shame in admitting you can’t do this.

  I open the small brochure, my hands trembling so vigorously that it’s hard to read. Tightening my grip on the paper, my teeth dig into the soft flesh of my lip to the point of pain as I force my eyes to take in the words in front of me.

  When Dr. Perez said I have options, I knew what she meant. Just because I didn’t think of them at first doesn’t mean I’m clueless. But hearing her words has brought those thoughts that I’d pushed to the back of my mind front and center.

  Abortion.

  Adoption.

  A strangled laugh rips out of my lungs.

  Who’d have thought that my whole life could fit into those two words. My options.

  Why isn’t there an option to be happy? To be able to have this baby and give him all he needs? Why does it always have to be so damn hard to have what I want? Truly, deeply want?

  Brushing at my cheek, I feel the wetness of my skin.

  There are flutters in my stomach, so soft they’re barely noticeable, but I can’t help but rub my hand over it.

  My baby.

  “I want to give you all you deserve,” I whisper, my eyes looking through the window into the darkness of the night. “I want to give you everything, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to. And you, you deserve better.”

  * * *

  Breathless, I look at the brick building in front of me, the white and blue sign taunting me.

  I swallow hard, a tremble going through my whole body, although my skin feels flushed. My chest squeezes painfully, and as I lay my hand in the middle of it to rub the pain away, I can feel the erratic beat of my heart.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  Imposing and overwhelming, it resounds in my ears, making it hard to think.

  Closing my eyes, I try to gain back control. Concentrate on one thing at a time. But when my world clouds in darkness, the only thing I can feel is heat.

  Was it this hot a minute ago?

  Tugging at the collar of my shirt I try to make myself breathe.

  In and out. Nice. Steady. In and out.

  It’ll all work out, but first you have to calm the fuck down. Breathe, Brook. Just breathe.

  But no matter how many times I try to tell myself it’ll all be okay, it changes nothing because I know the truth. Nothing will ever be okay. Ever.

  Tears burn in my eyes. Seems like these days it’s the only thing I can do—cry. Tears of desperation, anger, loneliness. Brokenhearted tears. For myself. For Max. But most of all, for this baby who hasn’t done anything to deserve the life it was given.

  Done fighting it, I open my eyes, once again looking at the building in front of me. One by one, tears start falling down my cheeks, a trembling sob ripping out of my lungs.

  My hand slides down, settling on my still-flat stomach.

  This isn’t okay. It’s not fair.

  But life is never fair. And I should have known that better than anybody. It was silly to believe it could have been different. Silly to hope I could find my happiness. Just like always, life gave me a taste of it, only to take it all away and crush everything else in the process.

  Not bothering to wipe my tears or hide my pain, I walk toward the entrance. If nothing else, I’ll do this right, even if it breaks me in the process.

  I
wish things could be different.

  But the hard truth is, they’re not.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  MAX

  Dear Mr. Sanders,

  We’re pleased to inform you that you have been accepted…

  I blink, and then blink some more, thinking if I blink enough times the letters staring back at me will somehow change, but no matter how many times I do it, they stay the same.

  Letting the letter fall to the kitchen counter, I rub my hand over my face, fingers digging into my scalp.

  “What are you doing?”

  Slowly, I turn around, finding Jeanette leaning against the doorway, that little beast of hers tucked in her arms.

  Not saying a word, I tip my chin in the direction of the letter I left discarded. Giving me a curious look, she comes inside, taking the paper in her hand. I can see her eyes move over the page with a speed I can only imagine. Five seconds later, she shrieks loudly and throws herself—and the dog—at me so hard, I have to wrap both of my hands around her to prevent all three of us from falling.

  “Oh my God, Max! This is amazing! Boston University.” She pulls away just enough so she can look at me, her gray eyes glossy from tears. “I knew you could do it! I just knew it.”

  “Hey, don’t cry…”

  “I’m not crying,” she protests, even though the tears are now rolling down her cheeks. Laughing uncomfortably, she moves out of my reach, brushing her tears with her free hand. “It just… It just hit me. We won’t be together next year.”

  I nod my head in understanding. Just a few weeks ago, she got another one of her acceptance letters, and she finally decided on Carnegie Mellon School of Music, where she’ll be able to continue doing what she loves and at the same time be close to Andrew, who was admitted to Penn State. And with me going to Boston, this will be the first time in eighteen years that we’ll be apart.

  Putting my hands on her shoulders, I give her a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll always be one phone call away.”

  “I know.” She smiles through her tears. “Ignore me! We should celebrate. I’ll go and grab…”

  Her words die down as she runs out to get whatever she set her mind on. My eyes fall down to the acceptance letter.

  I’ve been working toward this my whole life. I busted my ass this whole year, juggling hockey and school. I should be happy. Ecstatic even. But all I feel is empty.

  Empty because the one person I wanted to run off and tell, the one person who’s basically responsible for me even getting into college, isn’t here. And I don’t know where to find her. All the messages I sent were left unanswered; all the phone calls went straight to voicemail. Googling her name proved pointless, just as much as calling all the Brook Taylors in the phonebook.

  The hollow in my stomach grows bigger.

  Pulling out my phone, I look at the string of unanswered messages I’d sent her since she’d been gone. From worried to angry back to worried to, finally, pleading. My life has been a rollercoaster of emotions, and I’m still not sure I have a hang on them, but at this point, I just want to see her. I want to hug her and fill this void that’s only been growing since she left. Nothing else matters.

  The ache in my heart takes over as I remember every single moment we spent together. My eyes fall down to the letter again, and I can clearly see her jumping in my arms when I told her I got my highest score ever after she helped me, my fingers itching to send her another message.

  She’d be happy for me. Proud.

  “Found it!” Jeanette says, triumphantly rising the bottle of whiskey. It’s one of our dad’s finest.

  I eye it for a second, putting my phone away. “What the hell.”

  If I can’t erase this emptiness, I can at least dull it with alcohol.

  * * *

  ANDREW

  A constant buzzing brings me out of my stupor. I answer the damn thing with a barely intelligible grunt.

  “I have her.” The words I’ve been waiting to hear for weeks have me jumping out of bed more efficiently than a bucket of cold water ever could.

  He found her.

  “Text me the address,” I mutter, already pulling on some clothes.

  I’m about to hang up to finish getting ready when his next words stop me completely. “There is a problem.”

  Running my hand over my face, I sigh. “What now?”

  “Took me a while, but I found out why she disappeared.”

  “Why?” I grit, not really caring. He knows where Brook is, and one way or another, I’m going there, wherever there is, and bringing her back.

  “It appears that her mother, who by the way is a train wreck waiting to happen, has accumulated some pretty heavy debt. The guy went to Brook and made some comments.”

  “You mean threats,” I clarify, my hand clenching into a fist by my side.

  “He made sure she understood he’d be collecting the money one way or another.”

  Fucking hell.

  It’s not even surprising she decided to run away. Not after what I’ve seen of Brook’s mother.

  “Deal with it,” I say. I’m not having those fuckers get in the way of getting Brook back home. Not after I found her. “Both of them.”

  Not bothering to wait for his reply, I hang up. Seconds after, my phone beeps with the address.

  It’s time to pay my sister a visit.

  * * *

  MAX

  “I don’t really think that’s…” I can hear Jeanette’s faint voice from the hallway. She doesn’t get to finish the sentence before the door bursts open, Andrew stalking inside with my sister hot on his heels.

  From the corner of my eye, I can see Jeanette’s weary face, but I ignore them, concentrating instead on my movements.

  “Get cleaned up.”

  A towel falls on my head, obscuring my eyesight. Annoyed, I pull it off with so much strength it goes flying to the other side of the gym.

  “What the fuck, man?” I ask, still irritated at him for keeping secrets.

  Hard, green eyes look at me, determination written all over his face. “Do I need to write you a special invitation? Get your ass moving, Sanders.”

  “Where’s the fire?” I look between the two of them before going to pick up the towel to dry off my sweaty face.

  “We found her,” Andrew whispers as if saying those words any louder would jinx it. “We found Brook.”

  * * *

  “Do you think she…” I swallow hard, unable to ask the question that’s been bothering me since Brook left.

  “She left because she thought she didn’t have any other choice, Max.” Andrew’s concentrating on the road in front of him, but I can see his fingers grip the steering wheel tighter. “Between her mother trying to use her to get money for more drugs while at the same time accumulating debt, and my dad not giving two shits about her…”

  She should have stayed for me. Not her mother or her father, me.

  But the thought leaves a stale taste in my mouth. I don’t have the right to demand anything, expect anything from her because I’m not any better than her parents. From the very beginning, the only thing I’ve done is make her life even more complicated. Using her to forget about Lia, pushing and taking until there was nothing left to give. I demanded and I took, not once asking myself the price she had to pay for helping me. How it affects her. And when she needed me, I pushed her away because I wasn’t man enough to face the consequences of my actions.

  “I should have done something,” I say, not even able to look at him. Brook’s brother. I gave him such shit when I found out about him and Jeanette. Warning him to stay away. If this isn’t divine justice, I don’t know what is. “But I was too stuck in my own world to notice she needed me.”

  He shakes his head. “Yes, you were a dick, but it’s not just you. We all messed up. We never asked for more, never wanted to know what was happening in her life. For fuck’s sake.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “Josephine took her money, so Brook had to go and ask
John to give her what should have been hers to begin with. She didn’t even want to take the amount Josephine demanded to keep quiet, just the bare minimum so she could survive.”

  Survive… Brook is always surviving, never living. Was she all right? Was the…

  I push the thought away, unwilling to think about it. I’ve played this guessing game since the moment she left, which was weeks ago, but I couldn’t do it anymore, so I concentrated on something else.

  “Still not talking to your old man?”

  His lips press in a tight line, a hard expression settling on his face. “And I don’t plan to. What he did was fucked up. He knew what Josephine was like, but still, he tried to cover it up to save his own ass. He paid his own daughter to disappear so he could save his squeaky-clean image and proceed with his political campaign like nothing happened.”

  Andrew moved out of his father’s house the same day he and Jeanette came to tell me what they’d found out. It is still hard to believe that Brook and Andrew are siblings. Well, half-siblings. What are the odds of that, really? Living their whole lives in the same town, going to the same school, but not knowing…

  That revelation did put a lot of things into perspective. Like the fact that Andrew’s mom really did have reasons to ditch Hill Sr.’s ass. According to Jeanette, Andrew’s relationship with his mom was still strained, but they are slowly working on it. She even went as far as offering for Andrew to stay with her, but he didn’t take her up on it.

  “You still at Derek’s?”

  Derek and his parents offered Andrew a place to stay until things get sorted out. Jeanette wanted him to stay at our place, but of course, Mom wasn’t having it. Since Jeanette’s accident, Mom has been more present in our lives and that meant discipline and boundaries. And those did not include having her daughter’s boyfriend sleeping in the guest room down the hall.

  “Yes, but now that Brook’s coming back…”