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Jake relaxes, accepting my response. He wanders over to the couch and sits down.
“Want to watch a movie?” Jake asks, picking up the remote.
“I have homework.” I roll my eyes at him as he turns the TV on and laughs at me.
“Can’t suck your way to an A?” His words sting, but I’m confident knowing that I’m getting good grades because I’m putting in the fucking work.
“I have other classes, and I don’t think that would work on Mrs. Simpson.”
She’s nice enough, but straight as an arrow. Besides, there’s no way I’ll admit this to my brother, but I’m actually enjoying my schoolwork. For the first time in a long time, I’m feeling like I might be able to make something of myself. I get good grades and the teachers seem to be cheering me toward a bright future. And for the first time, I’m less focused on the past and more curious about what the future might hold for me.
“I’m gonna order a pizza. Pepperoni?” Jake says.
“That’s fine.” I wave him away.
“Are you sure I can stay here again?” Jake sounds unsure, but I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.
“Sure. It’s better than sleeping in the park, right?” I can’t hold back a smile, but he seems less than excited. I’m not sure what’s up with him, but something isn’t right.
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“How about that movie?” I suggest, trying to boost his mood. He nods, still visibly upset but trying to calm himself down for my sake. I climb into the bed and start flipping through channels, glad when he sits down beside me with a small sigh.
I settle on one that I vaguely remember watching and set the remote down. Jake sighs, slouching down more in the bed. After a moment, his eyes flash with recognition, and he huffs.
“I remember the last time we watched this movie,” he mutters. I look at him curiously. “Christmas. When we were kids. When Mum and Dad were still around.”
I bite my lower lip and squeeze his hand. He squeezes back. He might be taller and bigger than me, but in so many ways he's still just a kid. I might never be able to see him as anything more than my big brother. A lonely, scared kid I've had to protect for so long, it's second nature now.
I remember that Christmas. It was the last one we shared as a family. A week later, my mother murdered my father, my youngest brother, and then turned the gun on herself. For years I’d been telling people I lost them in a house fire because I was too ashamed to admit the truth.
Everything about that night is burned into my mind. I was eight years old. I’d been at a friend’s house. My best friend, Olivia. She had lived across the street at the time and had begged me to sleep over because it was her birthday. I knew something wasn’t right with Mum that day, but I told myself I was being paranoid. She’d made so many suicide attempts over my short life, so many hospital admissions, that it almost became like a regular occurrence. I told myself this was just another off day, and I went. Jake had insisted he come too, so he could play with Andy, Olivia’s brother. I didn't want him to come, but Mum had insisted. I remember my first thought being: Why didn’t she kill Jake and I too? Were we not special enough? Did she not love us as much as she did Cane and Lucy? What other possible reason could there be for her leaving us alone in the world like that?
I heard the first gunshot ring out. I remember sitting bolt upright in bed, my heart pounding, a layer of sweat covering my forehead, wondering if I’d dreamt it. Then I heard it; the unmistakable cry of Cane begging for his life. Another shot. And then another. Fifteen shots were fired in total, each without hesitation. Even before the wailing of the sirens filled the air, I knew they were gone. My whole family was dead, except for my big brother, who had no idea how to take care of me. For months after, all I could think was that I never should’ve agreed to that sleepover. If I hadn’t, then maybe Jake and I would’ve died too.
Maybe that would have been better than the life we ended up living.
“Clo?”
I jump at Jake’s voice and flash him a forced smile.
“I asked if you remember that Christmas?” he murmurs.
I squeeze his hand again and swallow harshly, trying to fight back tears.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I remember.”
Twin tears roll down my cheeks and I squeeze my eyes closed as my throat closes up and agony twists my insides. My brother wraps his arms around me and hugs tightly.
“Shhh…you’re okay, Clo,” he says, pressing a kiss into my hair. “I’m here. I’m always going to be here.”
* * *
The next day in class,I blink, struggling to stay awake. I’d stayed up way too late last night watching movies with Jake before getting my schoolwork done. Mainly because I couldn’t sleep in fear of the nightmares. Now, sitting in class, my eyelids are heavy, and my body is so relaxed I worry I’m going to black out at any second.
Somehow, I get through my first two classes and make my way to the next. Rounding the corner in the hallway, I head to my next class when I spy Sam moving toward me. My heart skips a beat and excitement pools in the pit of my stomach. I breathe in, waiting for him to acknowledge me, but he doesn’t even look at me. Instead, he walks right on by, like I don’t exist.
The balls on this motherfucker.
