The Brother

by K Larsen

  She holds her hands up. “Wait, wait, if I play your game, will you go?”

  “What game?” I ask and make a face.

  She looks all over the living room quizzically. “Um, nadir optimum,” she says, before bursting into a fit of giggles. When Aubry Clark laughs, everyone laughs. She has an infectious air about her.

  When I stop laughing, I mock seriousness. “Fine.” I cross my arms over my chest. “What’s your nadir?”

  “Ugh, the new manager at the burger joint. He is so crude.” She pouts and shakes her head.

  “Okay,” I say. “And the optimum?”

  Aubry’s eyes light up. “My bestie is going to a party with me tonight. Woo!” She jumps up and does a little victory dance, causing me to laugh all over again. I clutch my stomach because it’s too much to attempt keeping a straight face.

  “Okay, girls, dinner’s ready,” Angela, Aubry’s mom calls from the kitchen. Anton and Aimee start arguing over who has to set the table, while Aubry stares at me.

  “Stay.”

  I shake my head. “Nope. Especially nope if you want me to get ready for a party.”

  She lolls her head back and groans. “Fine, turd. I’ll see you at eight.”

  I call out goodbye to Angela while walking to the front door.

  It’s warm out. Summer has just started and I can practically smell it in the air. My walk home takes me down quiet side streets. I like to look into people’s windows as I pass by. Families gathered around tables, passing food to each other. It makes me smile while simultaneously causing a pang of loneliness in my gut. There will be no family dinner for me.

  Most of the time, it doesn’t bother me. I prefer to be alone. I prefer books to parties, fictional characters to live friends, music to concerts. I’m a little antisocial. I’m also a little laser-focused on my goal of going to college. Aubry and I graduated a year ago and I have until August to save up enough money for my second year’s tuition. I sigh and jam my key into the lock. The door clicks open quietly. I flip switches on as I walk through the house, illuminating it room by room. Tossing my purse onto the kitchen table, I purse my lips and deliberate what to make for dinner. I haven’t gone grocery shopping in a week and the pickings are slim. I settle for an apple cut up, paired with some slices of cheddar cheese. I take my plate to the living room and curl up in the oversized arm chair. Pulling my book from the side table, I open to the dog-eared page and dive back in while popping apple slices and cheese into my mouth occasionally.

  The doorbell startles me out of my fictional escape and I let out a small yelp. My empty plate falls off my knee onto the floor. I curse under my breath, while stepping over it. I swing the door open, ready to tell who ever it is to just go away and see Aubry.

  “Dude. Really?”

  I wrinkle my face. “Sorry. I was ...”

  “Reading. Yeah? I know. I’ve heard it a hundred times,” she says. Her hands are on her hips and she looks annoyed.

  “I’ll grab my bag and we can go,” I say.

  She shakes her head no, sighs and marches past me into the house. “No. Nope. No can do. You need to change,” she says.

  I cock my head right and widen my eyes.

  Aubry crosses her arms over her chest and with a smug expression says, “I’ll wait.”

  When I wake the next morning, I am left with a feeling of disorganized nostalgia and terror that stays with me all day, like a vice grip around my ribcage. I’m a wreck. Aubry calls multiple times and I send each one to voicemail. I shower three times and wish I had a mother to talk to, to hold me, to tell me what I should do, but I don’t. I feel dirty and used. I’ve been betrayed.

  I grab the paper from the front porch that the paperboy tosses every Sunday morning, despite my not having a subscription, close the door and lock it behind me. Skipping my morning coffee, I grab a yogurt and open the classifieds. As I pour over them, one jumps out at me.

  * * *

  OPPORTUNITY KNOCKS

  Seeking live in summer tutor

  for 11-yr old girl. Great pay.

  Room & board included. Interested

  women leave message at 555–774–0854

  Pocketville

  * * *

  I could tutor. And I most certainly could stand to get out of town for the summer. I don’t think I could stomach seeing Anton any time soon and Aubry will wonder what’s up if I just stop coming over. I pick up my cell and dial the number. It rings once and goes straight to voicemail.

  “This is Nora Robertson. Um, I’m interested in learning more about the tutoring position in the classifieds, if it’s still available.” I leave my number and email address and hang up. The rap, rap, rap at the front door startles me and I fling yogurt on my pajama pants. Muttering curses, I peek out the kitchen window. Aubry. Tears prick my eyes. I want nothing more than to let her in, but I can’t. I can’t face her. Not yet. She will know something is wrong and there is no way in hell I’m telling her what happened last night. I duck down before she sees me and head to my room.

  I huddle in the corner, knees pulled up under my chin, eyes closed, holding a picture of my parents to my chest as I let out my hurt and disgust in silent sobs.

  Monday morning, I have twenty-six unread texts, four voicemails and six missed calls, all from Aubry. I blow out a breath and force myself out of bed. I pick up the plates and cups scattered by my bed and drop them in the kitchen sink. Today I have to function. I gave myself twenty-four hours. I gave him twenty-four hours. Now it’s time to dust my shoulders off and move forward as best I can.

  The Girl

  The excitement I feel is inexplicable as I come to. It’s more like hysteria. I push my emotions back, until they are as small as possible. I blink stars away until I see Nora. I beg her not to leave me alone out here, but she only lies there in the broken glass and metal of the truck. A stiff wind whistles through the pines and kicks up dead leaves.

  “Nora,” I whine and jostle her again. Guilt eats at me for lying to her, but the threat of what he would do to me if I told her the truth, was enough to keep me quiet.

  There is a crunching in the snow near me. I turn my head too fast and a wave of dizziness claims me. I clutch Nora’s shirt and tug at it urgently. “Wake up. Wake up.”

  She doesn’t move. I look up and try to wiggle from the wreckage. I hurt everywhere. A boot lands in front of my hand. My eyes bug out. When I look up, I want to die. Holden reaches down for me. The sound that follows is like the sky being torn in two. It ends with a soul-deep scream that rattles bones. His eyes darken; his scowl grows more intense as he yanks me from the totaled truck.

  It is my scream.