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“Have you ever been in love, Mason?”
“No. And based on the way she hates me now, I don’t think I want to. It just looks painful to me.”
I nod, not wanting to let him know about how love fucked me over. I’m supposed to be the big brother — the one who has wisdom to pass along, the one who can’t be hurt.
“So, what’s the plan, Dane?”
I look at him, confused. “The plan?”
“Yeah, you know. You passed on the whole tour/record deal thing. What are you going to do?”
I shrug as I let out a long breath. “Fuck if I know. There’s not much I can do. I dropped out of school. My band signed a record deal without me, not that I want anything to do with music.”
Mason stands and grabs another beer from the fridge before walking back and taking his seat. After a long drink, he levels his eyes on me. “What happened to you? You used to want to get out of this town. All you wanted to do was play music and now, you don’t care about it anymore?”
I scoff. “Nope, I’m done with it all.”
“Why did you turn down the record deal and the tour?”
I set my beer down on the table and lean forward. “I just didn’t want it anymore. It’s one of those things you think you want until you get it. Then you realize how wrong you really were.”
“That makes no fucking sense.”
I shake my head and fall back against the couch. “It is what it is.”
Mason stands and looks down at me. “I don’t know what happened to my brother, man. You used to be cool. Now you’re just a fucking mess. Pull yourself together and get over whatever it is.” The anger rolls off him in waves.
At first, I’m a little shocked. When did Mason grow up so much? He went from a babbling pre-teen that couldn’t talk to girls to telling me to grow up? I laugh at the whole situation.
“Maybe you’re right. Nothing I can do about it now, is there?”
“I’ll tell you what you can do. You can start helping us out a bit more.”
I sit up. “What do you mean?”
Mason brushes his hair from his eyes. “Dad’s not doing so good in case you haven't noticed.”
“What’s going on? Is he sick?”
He falls back into his seat, kicking his foot up on the table again. “He works his ass off. If he’s not running back and forth between the shop and the grill, he’s trying to make these repairs on the house. He’s getting too old to be doing it all. I work myself into the ground trying to give him some rest, but between the house, the shop, and soccer, I’m burnt out. Why don’t you try talking him into making you manager at the grill or something?”
I nod. “Okay, I can do that. I don’t know how much rest that’ll give him though. You know how he is when it comes to me. He’ll probably be more stressed waiting for me to fuck something up.”
“So, don’t fuck up! I came home from practice the other day and found him lying in the yard. He’d passed out from heat exhaustion. He’s going to end up killing himself.”
“Alright. Quit yelling at me. Fuck! When did you get so bossy?”
He laughs. “I guess when I started having to take care of everything.”
“I’ll talk to Dad tomorrow,” I promise.
“Alright. I’m going home. I’ll see you later.” He stands and opens the door.
Before he steps out, I call after him. “Mason.”
“Yeah?” He turns around to face me.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around. You’re really growing up.”
