by Blair Holden
“What!” My brother screams in my face as he throws his door open.
He looks angry, annoyed, and, above all, hungover. His eyes have huge bags beneath them, his breath stinks of alcohol, and he has two days’ worth of stubble on his face. My twenty-one-year-old brother looks far older than that. There’s no light in his eyes, it’s not been there for nearly two years now and suddenly I miss him.
I miss the old Travis and I need to get him back. I need to show people like Jay that my brother’s not a lost cause.
In what I suppose is an intimidating manner I place my hands on my hips and glare at my six-two sibling who’s rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He’s still wearing the clothes he must have put on before heading out last night; it’s a miracle he didn’t sleep with his shoes on.
“What do you want?” he grumbles before stumbling back into his bedroom, which is in the dark due to all the lights being off. Pizza boxes are scattered all across the wooden floor and beer bottles litter the remaining visible space.
“I want you to clean up and then meet me in the kitchen,” I order with authority in my voice but he flops back down into his bed and pulls the covers over his head in an attempt to drive me away. I narrow my eyes at him and tug at the duvet until it falls to the floor.
“What the hell is your problem, Tess?” He grabs a pillow and throws it in my direction, I duck and for the first time in my life my hand-eye coordination doesn’t fail me.
“My problem is that I’m sick of seeing you like this, Trav; please just hear me out once. Take a shower or whatever; I need to talk to you when you’re sober.”
He’s taken by surprise and honestly so am I. In the past couple of years we’ve drifted apart. We went from having the perfect brother-sister relationship to hardly acknowledging each other even though we live in the same house. He stopped looking out for me so I became an easy target and I stopped caring about him so he’s been destroying his liver.
“Is everything okay?” He’s still slurring his words and his eyes are drooping. Disappointment shoots through me as I realize that this is the person he’s become. From having everything one minute to being reduced to nothing the next has taken its toll on Travis. Seeing him like this further strengthens my resolve to get his life back on track.
In a sudden display of affection, I sit by his side on the bed and ruffle his blond hair so like mine; his gray eyes concentrate on my face as I smile sadly at him.
“I just need my big brother right now.”
***
My mother’s spoon slips from her fingers and clatters to the ground. My father is forced to put down his glass of wine and I smile widely as Travis pulls up a chair next to me and sits down at the dining table.
Shock. The single emotion is plastered onto both their faces as they watch their son sit and eat with them for the first time in years. Mom’s mouth hangs open in the most unladylike of ways and Dad looks like he’s going to start choking on the wine he just put down. It’s priceless, seeing them like this and knowing that I somehow have a part in all this. It’s been three days since I confronted Travis and our talk went really well. I’d been able to get through to him by reminding him that this family needed him, that he needed to come back to us.
“Travis?” My mother finally manages to croak as she stares at him like he’s a foreign creature and not her son.
“Hey, Mom.” He disarms her with a single crooked grin and her eyes widen. I can relate to how she’s feeling since it’s been a really long time since we’ve seen Travis in good spirits. The fact that he’s smiling and being so nonchalant about all of this is kind of creepy but I’m not complaining. At least I’m going to get my brother back this way.
He’s helping himself to some lasagna and Dad still hasn’t said a word. He’s just staring at him, much like our mother, but even she’s managed to get herself under control.
“Can I help you with something, Dad?” Travis asks with an edge to his voice.
I start to panic just a little. My brother and father don’t exactly have the best relationship. Dad didn’t take well to Travis’s little crash-and-burn experience. He practically disowned him and my brother’s never quite gotten over the desertion. Now watching them having a stare-down I realize that it might take some time to fix this.
“Just surprised to see you leave the bottle.” His snide remark has me wanting to pour my glass of Coke all over his head. This is not the time for settling old scores; we need to show Travis that we love him and support him and the way my father’s looking at him you can’t really see the rainbows and unicorns. Instead I see the steely cold and calculating gaze which I’ve become accustomed to in the past three, nearly four, years.
“Dad,” I begin in a warning tone and Mom darts her eyes nervously between the three of us. She looks a little panicked, never one for confrontations. This must be taking its toll on her nerves.
He raises his palms defensively and looks at me innocently. “I’m only stating the obvious, honey.”
“You haven’t changed a bit, have you, Dad,” Travis says through gritted teeth and I can see his anger rising, the famous Irish temperament that I didn’t inherit is rising to the surface.
“Well, we all can’t stop living our normal lives and become alcoholics, can we now?” he says calmly before returning to his food.
Okay, that’s it. One more word from him and he’s going to be drenched in fizzy goodness.
“You know what, screw this.” Travis shoots up from his seat, throwing his napkin on the floor. Before I can say or do anything to stop him, he stomps out of the room without glancing back. I know I need to let him cool off before the next round of our family feud.
“I don’t believe you! Why would you do that, Dad?” I ask him, my voice full of disbelief, exasperation, and a thinly veiled urge to throw something at him.
“Now, now, don’t make this about me. Your brother had that coming.”
“Oh for the love of God, Branson, get off your high horse and apologize to your son.” My mom looks like Mama Bear with her claws out as she glares murderously at Papa Jerk Face Bear.
“I have nothing to apologize for, Susan, he deserved it,” Dad replies tersely and I grunt in aggravation. I may or may not love him but if he says one more word against Travis he’s going to suffer.
“If you don’t go up to his room right now, you can forget about my father supporting you in the elections. We all know how fond he is of his grandson and if he hears about this, sweetheart, well I’m sure you know what’s going to happen.”
I give my mom a virtual high-five. Never before have I been so proud of her and at this very second I do feel something akin to love swelling in my heart for her.
“Are you threatening me?”
Sometimes, Dad, you can be as dumb as a post, maybe worse.
“Consider it more of a promise. Now go, and remember, be nice. I’ve got your ticket to victory on speed-dial.”
I will never forget the sight of watching him scurry up the stairs with panic and terror written all over his face. Mom winks at me and begins sipping her wine. It will need a lot of time and effort to get things with Travis back to normal; today’s a start but things are going to get a little crazy in order to patch our family back up.
Oh well, at least I have one big-headed, arrogant, narcissistic moron looking after me in all this.
***
I’m about to go to bed after completing my homework and arguing with Cole over texts about how it would not be the best idea to egg Jay’s car. It’s shallow and vindictive, plus he drives the most gorgeous Hummer and marring its beauty would be a crime against nature. I don’t really know if I want to retaliate, I mean Jay wasn’t exactly lying when he labeled Travis a loser. It hurt, it did, but I can’t stop him from having an opinion, now can I?
Cole sure feels differently about the situation. I’m actually feeling extremely afraid for Jay; if I were him I’d flee the continent.
“Tessa, honey, are you fr
ee?” I put my iPod away as my mother walks into the room, grinning and holding a garment bag in her hands. My eyebrows pull together as she lays it carefully on the bed and looks at it like it’s her third child.
“Mom, what’s this?” I begin warily. It’s never a good thing when her eyes sparkle like this or when she looks this happy about something.
“This is your dress for our annual charity gala,” she gushes as she begins to unzip the bag. “I wore this when I was eighteen and I won Ms. Farrow Hills in this.”
I stare at the taffeta abomination she pulls out. It’s the kind of dress I have nightmares about, the one I think I’ll end with by wearing it on my wedding day after Nicole’s destroyed the original. It’s ghastly neon pink with sequins all over the bodice and a big puffy skirt that seems endless.
Oh fudge pops.
“Isn’t it lovely?” she gushes as she places it against her body and looks at herself in my full-length mirror. In what world is that thing considered lovely?
“Mom, I’m not sure I even want to go to the gala, let alone enter the competition.”
“Nonsense! You’re the mayor’s daughter, you have to be there and I’m the chair of the Ms. Farrow Hills committee. What will people think if they see that my own flesh and blood didn’t bother entering it?”
“I’m sure we can convince Travis to give it a shot,” I joke but she flinches like she’s been physically hurt.
“I’ve been planning for the event all year, Tessa. Why are you acting like this?”
I roll my eyes at her theatrics. “No need to be dramatic, Mom. I just don’t see the point. Nicole’s been preparing her whole life to win this thing. Why would I want to go up against her?”
She clicks her tongue and settles down on the bed, putting the monstrosity she calls a dress on the side. Pushing my bangs aside, she ruffles my hair and gives me the first motherly smile I’ve seen in ages. I bet it’s all because she wants me to enter her stupid competition.
“That girl is not what a Ms. Farrow Hills is supposed to represent. We’re looking for someone who’s beautiful inside and out and that’s you, sweetie. I know you don’t see it but you’re growing up to become such a wonderful young woman, I’m so proud of you.”
Okay, who is she and what has she done to my snarky, antidepressant-popping mother?
“Mom, I . . . didn’t realize this means so much to you.”
“I know we haven’t had the best relationship these last couple of years but what you did today for your brother, it . . .” Tears spring to her eyes and I just sit there in amazement. I’ve never seen her cry or get emotional in front of me. Usually she has such hard walls all around her that it’s almost impossible to penetrate them but right now she’s displaying a very foreign vulnerability.
“It just reminded me how lucky I am to have you as my daughter.”
My throat feels thick as I try to get some words out but I cannot. To be honest, I’m not miraculously feeling an outburst of love for the woman who’s been neglecting me for as long as I can remember. When things became difficult she decided to leave me on my own and used prescription drugs as a refuge. It’s not exactly easy for me to welcome her back with open arms.
“Thanks, Mom.”
She looks disappointed with my answer but doesn’t push it. Instead she asks me to try on her dress and while I’d rather light myself on fire than do just that, I feel like we’ve reached some sort of breakthrough in our relationship tonight and I can’t let my fear of pinky poof destroy that.
When I come out of my bathroom, I immediately cringe at the sight of myself in the mirror. The dress clashes horribly with my pale skin and the fitting is horrible. I don’t have the chest to fill it out nor do my legs go on for days, so it ends up pooling by my feet. The puffed sleeves make me look like a hunchback and the sequins prick my skin, making me squirm.
“Oh wow, Tess, you look . . .”
I can see her reflection in the mirror and shake my head at her. “Don’t, Mom, don’t.”
“You look wonderful, honey; we might need to fix it up a little but . . .”
“I look like a cross between Pippi Longstocking and Grandma Judith.”
“Well, that’s exaggerating it, it just needs a little work and . . .”
I turn around and breathe deeply. Fatty Tessie the pushover would have allowed her to get away with this just to please her and get her attention. However, shortcake here has been spending a bit too much time with the town’s bad boy and isn’t about to back down.
“Mother,” I begin patiently and she looks at me expectantly, “I promise I will participate in the competition and try my best to win, but you have to let me pick out my own dress, please.”
She looks taken aback by my request and I’m not surprised. Usually I just let her have her own way with me and try to keep any arguments at bay. She’s not really used to me expressing an opinion or, well, doing anything that might hint at the fact that I do have a mind of my own.
“Oh, okay, then that’s perfectly understandable. I’ll tell your partner about the change, I think the poor boy will be glad that he doesn’t have to wear a pink tie.”
My heart sinks at the very mention of the word.
“What partner?”
***
“Hey, partner.” Cole nudges my shoulder and I glare at him.
“Don’t look so smug, I did not choose to be here.”
“When life gives you lemons, Tessie . . .” He trails off and starts his car, pulling away from his garage.
“You squeeze the life out of them and then throw them in the trash, genius,” I scoff.
From the corner of my eye I can see him grinning with amusement all over his face. I fight back a smile myself and turn my head so that I’m looking out the window.
“So are you okay?” he asks and I guess he’s referring to the incident with Jay. I suppose that it’s all worked out for the better. Travis is struggling to change his routine and going back to normal but at least he’s making an effort now. I’ve talked him into registering for a couple of online courses and starting to work on his degree again. The alcohol consumption is still a problem but it’s hard for anyone to go cold turkey to an addiction.
“I’m better than okay, actually. For the first time it feels like my family is actually making progress.” I smile warmly at him and he seems a bit dazed at first, not responding but just staring at me.
“What?” I ask, feeling a little flustered.
“Nothing.” He shakes his head and then gives me that disarming smile that I’d been looking for.
“Nothing,” he repeats, “you should just smile more often.”
I melt a little at his words and don’t even notice when he pulls on the highway, taking us out of town. We’re going to a mall two towns over to look for a dress for me. While I argued that I am perfectly capable of finding a dress for myself, he simply rolled his eyes at me and convinced me that if I wanted to win I needed his expert opinion. Winning isn’t that important to me, I’m just participating for my mom’s sake, but then he reminded me about our plan. Our plan to take Nicole down and make her regret the way she’s treated me all these years.
“Well I guess even when the prodigal son screws up, something good comes out of it. He truly can do no wrong, can he?”
I’m surprised at how bitter he sounds. I can see why they’re not exactly best friends, both are too different for that to happen, but they’ve also grown up together and know each other better than anyone else. Why is it that ever since he’s come back, Cole’s treated Jay with nothing but hostility?
“It still doesn’t make it right, Cole; he shouldn’t have said all that about Travis and Jenny.” He looks surprised and takes his eyes off the road to study me. “You haven’t forgiven him by now?”
“It’s not exactly easy. I’ve always thought that he was a different person and that somehow Nicole was tricking him into being with her but now . . .”
“You’ve realized that the
y might not be that different?”
I nod before I realize what I’m doing. It hurts to acknowledge the truth, to find out that the person you’ve obsessed over for as long as you can remember is closer to being someone you hate.
“We’re going to kick butt at the competition, Tessie, and when we win I promise I’ll let you bash my brother’s head in with the trophy.”
I chuckle at his enthusiasm and shake my head. “It’s not a wrestling match, Stone, it’s a beauty pageant, and my trophy will most likely be a plastic tiara.”
“Well don’t those things have sharp pointy combs? You can dig them into his eye or something.”
“You have a really twisted mind, you know that?”
“Thank you, shortcake.” He smiles that boyish smile of his like I’ve given him the biggest compliment of his life and warmth spreads through my chest. He looks so happy and carefree, it’s infectious.
***
The rest of the ride I try not to look at him or focus on the hand that’s resting on the stick shift, dangerously close to my thigh. Once or twice his fingers accidentally brush across it and jolts of electricity pass through my body.
Trouble, this is going to cause so much trouble for me. Why on earth did my mother ask him to be my partner and what on earth possessed him to agree? He loathes formal occasions and wearing tuxes. He calls them penguin suits and mocks anyone who dares to wear them. Then I remember his saying that together the two of us were guaranteed to win due to his, and I quote, “Killer sexy godlike looks, and my ‘meh,’ good genes.”
We arrive at the mall to find it bustling with shoppers. Cole grabs my hand, startling me as he pushes us through the throngs of people. He makes nothing of the action but my heart rate has spiked, a traitorous blush colors my cheek, and I’m starting to sweat through the thin cardigan I have on. Once in a space we can actually breathe in, he lets go of my hand and then places his at the small of my back as he guides us.
