Beauty in Misery

by MafiaHen

Summary:

Did I ever even have a CHANCE at being happy? Not with my pathetic liar of a brother, the cunt we call our mother and... a brother-stealer on the loose!
All I ever asked was for him to be around, but that's apparently way more than I deserve. Like he's ever happy without me anyway, Andy should thank ME for all I do for him.
Even if he won't admit how he feels, I won't just let him throw our lives away.

Notes:

The story is set when the Graves siblings still lived with their parents on their apartment. Andrew has his job, goes to university and dates Julia. Ashley does fuck all.
I hope you'll enjoy reading what I had to tell.

Chapter 1: Hard Candy to Swallow

Heard the door open then close. The ruffle of a plastic bag being set down on the kitchen table was almost drowned out by the noises from the tv. I wondered, for a second, whether I would next hear mom’s ugly ass loafers hit the ground, accompanied by some lecture or other, or an exhausted sigh, followed by a timid voice asking me to turn the volume down, or--

- Look at what I got.

Andy sat beside me on the sofa, placing something between us. Several little somethings, from the sound of it. I looked over and found a massive package of hard candy, the same brand that mom used to buy when we were younger. He had already ripped it open and was placing one in his mouth. While it clattered against his teeth, I crossed my arms.

- Spending big, huh?

- Oh, shut up... if I’d gotten something fancier, there wouldn’t be so much of it, would there?

- If it tastes like shit, what’s it matter how much of it we have? In fact, it’s wor--

- Look, no one is forcing you to eat the fucking things.

- You wanted me to look at it, so I’m doing that, for you.

Turning to the tv, he complained:

- Didn’t think you’d be such a pain about this, how come you have expensive taste?

Something disgusting found it’s way into my belly. It clawed at anything and everything around, looking for a way out into the world.

- Mom really trained you right, huh?

He stared into me, not indifferent like always. I couldn’t tell what it was, but it made me feel better. He must have been angry. Good, he should have been from the start. The moment he saw those goofy ass rainbow letters on the shelf--

- Ashley, you are--

- Such a bitch, right? Insefferable cunt, goddamn disappointment.

- If you know without being told, why work so hard to get me to say it?

- Because that’s not your fucking opinion, it’s HERS.

Bringing mom up didn’t affect him much the second time.

- Oh yeah, how so?

She used to give these to him. Whenever he’d do well in school.

- So nostalgic for mommy’s candy, what a damn baby.

He put his elbow on the armrest and propped his head up on his hand, feigning interest in the gunfight that’s playing on screen.

- You don’t even care what the fight is about, do you? All that matters is making sure I’m miserable at all times.

I stood up, putting myself between him and the movie he doesn’t give a shit about. His gaze didn’t move an inch.

- You are miserable, Andrew, you just keep forgetting about it and forcing me to remind you for some fucking reason.

After rolling his eyes, he looked at mine.

- I apologize for all the troubles, sis, I can’t imagine how taxing it is on you.

- All you do is lie, lie, lie, no one knows who the hell you actually are, not even yourself at this point.

- But you do.

- Yeah!

- Who am I then?

- You’re--

- Wait! I should be writing this down.

As he tried to get up past me, I pushed him back onto the couch. Some of the candy spilled and clinked to the ground.

- Don’t you fucking dare, Andrew.

His eyes narrowed at me and I shivered. Andy moved to stand up again and I took a step back, looking to the side. Looming over me, he said:

- I was hoping you wouldn’t have to go through all the trouble of reminding me anymore if I could have it in writing.

He hated me, he did. He’d gotten so used to what other people said. So used to hanging around the most boring, braindead people in the world, that he--

- You’re miserable, Andrew. Everyday going out and pretending to be... normal. Like you’re not a mistake, unwanted and left behind--

- Like you?

I felt a pressure around my face, like it was crumpling from inside out. My eyes were hazy as I looked up at him again. The serious expression on his face melted immediately.

- Ashley? I didn’t mean--

- You did.

And he was right. Holding onto my own elbow, I stepped further back and looked down at the candy bag.

- ... When I was angry. - Andy explained.

- And just like that, you’re not anymore? See what I meant, you don’t even notice when you lie.

- I didn’t want to hurt you!

- Then what did you want?

He stayed silent, right until I tried to speak.

- I wanted to eat the damn candy, and feel not miserable... with you.

“Don’t share it with anyone, Leyley!” I remember him saying, right as he handed me some of the candy he’d gotten for being a good little student.

- I’m not gonna!

- Not even if they say pretty please?

- I don’t care what they say, they can all starve.

It was a little funny, everyone kept telling me to share, but Andy was never like that. He shared with me, and I saw him sharing with some of his friends, but whenever I cried because of a stolen toy, he would comfort me and get it back. He wouldn’t tell me to learn to be kind, he told me to not let them get it again. I’m sure he regretted saying that when I started biting the other kids and we both would get chewed out by mom... but, after that, no one wanted to play with my toys again.

Don’t know why I didn’t listen to him that time. I brought the candy to school and told everyone Andy had gotten them for me.

- Wow, he’s so cool... you have so many, could you give me one?

- I mean, no, they’re mine.

Some of the kids got startled, but that girl insisted.

- But I’ll be your friend if you give me one.

I wasn’t that sure at the time what a friend was. Hell, I may not even know now. All I knew is that Andy always wanted me to get one, and, at the time, he had a few that would come hang around the house when mom didn’t turn them away while prettending to be too busy.

- I... I could give you one.

- What about me - said a boy - we’re already friends, aren’t we Ashley?

I didn’t know his name, but he sure did mine... and I liked where it was going. In a few seconds, I was the most important girl in recess. The very next day, I wasn’t anymore.

- Of course, Leyley - Andy sighed - they were lying to you.

I got angry at him, told him he should have helped me, or warned me. That he shouldn’t have left me alone. Really, I felt stupid. Yeah, of course he gets the candy, he’s smart. Still, one thing confused me, if he was so smart, why did he share? If he knew that other people weren’t really gonna be his friends, why did he do it? It drove me mad, how can he do a stupid thing on purpose and be smart, and when I do it on accident I’m dumb?

I felt myself being shaken, gently. Andy’s hands were on each of my shoulders, rocking me back and forth. I looked up at him, confused.

- What the hell are you doing?

- I-I don’t know, I got worried.

- I’m fucking fine, - I told him while pushing one of his arms away - stop looking at me weird.

- You weren’t blinking and, even worse, went completely silent.

- I thought you prefered me that way.

- You only do it when you’re really mad at me or... dying, I guess.

I plop back down on the couch.

- Yeah, like I’m having a stroke over fucking candy.

- Then you’re just mad... over candy?

- I don’t give a shit about the candy, Andy! Why would you even think that?

He stared at me like I was insane. Like I am insane. If anything, he’s insane, reading into things that don’t fucking matter, pissing me all the way off.

He grabbed the candy package and moved it to the kitchen, leaving behind the ones that had fallen on the floor. I expected to hear him get into our room and close the door, but he came to sit back down.

- What are you watching?

I look to the tv for the first time since he arrived, then back at him.

- How should I know?

- Can I turn it off then?

- No! The fuck do you want, to watch a turned off tv?

- I’d prefer the quiet right now.

- There’s no tv in our room, and it should be free of Ashleys too.

He turned away, looking through the balcony window, refusing to get up and move. I got up and pressed the power button on the tv.

- Wha-- why?

- I lost the fucking remote, okay?

He watched me sit back down. While I looked away from him, watching the flaky paint on the wall, he placed a hand on my shoulder and pulled lightly. I pretended to not notice for a while, but he was persistent. I let myself lay on his lap, and our silence continued a while longer.

- What happened to it? The remote, I mean.

I sighed.

- I told you, I lost it.

- Must have fallen between the seats.

- Doesn’t really matter right now, you want your quiet.

- And what do you want?

- You to get off my damn back.

I adjusted my head to the softest part of his thigh.

I heard the door open again, this time without any sound to dampen it. A shoe hit the ground and, before the second one could follow, mom complained with her grating voice:

- Didn’t I tell that freeloader to run the washer? I swear, every day is a trial with this--

I tried to push myself up to scream at her, but Andrew covered my mouth and spoke over me.

- She... just got done with some online aplications, it really took a lot out of her. She’s resting for a bit, I’ll get the--

- Took a lot out of her - she scoffed - as if it were any struggle to tap away at her phone all day. You have to stop coddling her, Andrew, don’t you see how she’s already turned out? What kinds of jobs is she trying for anyway?

I try to speak out again, a light effort. As much as she annoys me, it’s a little fun to hear him try to worm himself out of a lecture, especially one aimed at me.

- She- uh, I think it was marketing or something? Some kind of call center.

- That’s what she told you, huh? You better make sure of it later, can’t have her pulling some shit again.

Half turned to the door to talk with mom, his fake ass smile drew my attention.

- Yeah, don’t--

- I’m serious, you know how far she’d go to spite me. You leave her on her own for a day, next thing we’ll know your grandfather’s calling us about some... scandalous photos she--

- I got it, mom. She won’t be doing that. You must be tired, I got some groceries today, when it comes time for dinner I’ll cook up something for us.

- Right. And don’t do the laundry for her, I told her to do it, she’ll do it.

- Yeah, I said I got it.

He tensed up for a second after saying it, then mom got into her room and he relaxed. He did not resist when I tried to move his hand out of my face.

- Alright, Ashley, but let’s try not to give her reason to come complaining.

- Why do you care? She likes doing it so much, let her.

- I’m just trying to keep the peace, - he stroked my hair - for both of us.

- Well, your freeloader sister is very grateful.

- You never are - he sighed, then tried to get up despite me laying on his lap - let’s go to our room, we’ll do the laundry later.

- Oh yeah, I was starting to get worried about that. Wouldn’t you like to see the look on her face? “How am I gonna get dressed for work if all my clothes are still on the floor, where I fucking left them?”

A smirk appeared on his face, but was quickly replaced with a grimace.

- I don’t want to see or hear what she would do... come on, let’s go.

He pleads with his words and eyes. I almost feel like denying him, but, truth is, I would also like to pretend she’s not home yet. We move to our room, close the door and stay in silence for a while. He sits in his bed, I follow.

- ... Thought you’d still be mad.

- Even if I were... I would rather be mad next to you.

Covering his mouth, he laughed a little.

- You really need to get your head checked.

- Well... then you too.

- How come?

- You’re always doing shit you don’t want, just to make other people... like you more, I don’t know.

- That’s not how I would put it, but... yeah, pretty much. Still, you, you’re always doing whatever you want and still feel miserable somehow. How do you manage?

- Half the time I can’t do anything I want, or don’t want to do... anything I can?

- ... Go on.

- N-No. I’m just bored, not miserable like you.

- What about when you’re not bored, when you can do what you want?

- ... What about the toys you used to lend the other kids?

His brow furrowed.

- You know, when we were little. I got to play with my toys always, but I saw you give yours to other kids when they asked.

- Ashley, I have no idea. They were annoying me, I guess? Best way to make a kid shut up, give them a toy.

- Or candy?

“Yeah” he started saying, before turning to see my face drop. I quickly made it turn into a smile.

- Ashley, that’s not--

- Yeah, I know.

The terrified look on his face became stranger and stranger as his eyes widened.

- ... You do?

- Yeah, I’m... I’m messing with you, I know. You just... You really didn’t want to be miserable.

He really did learn it all from mom. Same way to keep me quiet. Same fucking... worry about his image, wanting people to think he’s... he’s good, he’s right, responsible. He’s a LIAR, and after teaching me... thinks I can’t be one too. Because I’m THE failure, how could I do a single thing right?

- Ashley, you’re...

- I really feel like doing the fucking laundry.

- ... You don’t need to - he said as I stood up - who gives a shit... what mom says later.

- I... I do, she’s family, Andrew. We gotta listen to her, or we’ve gone bad, you know? She didn’t raise us for--

- Yeah, she didn’t. She just told us to do shit, for her. For the Family.

- And sudenly you don’t wanna do it anymore? What, you want her to scream at me? Scream at you?

- No! Ashley, just... look at me, please.

I didn’t let him cup my face.

- I’m... I’m really mad, I don’t want to.

- Stop that... you can scream at me, hit me, just don’t... why are you doing this? You know I’d never--

- I know. I know, I know it’s not your fault you despise me. Every single person I’ve met... does anyway. I’m an “uncontrolable brat”, a “freeloading cunt of a daughter”, the little sister who wouldn’t ever want to get off her ass and “just do the laundry”, that one family member people are scared will end up as a bitch on the street, or selling her body on the internet--

- ASHLEY!

- And not because they care, because it fucking LOOKS BA--

This time, instead of speaking over me, he covers my mouth. I bite whatever fingers I can reach, but all he does is stare silently at the door for a few moments.

- ... We can’t start screaming. I’m sure mom could hear.

While I keep tossing around trying to free myself, he asks me to promise I’ll keep it down. I can’t answer with him blocking my mouth, but eventually I settle down and he lets me go. I resist the urge to immediately scream out of spite.

- She’ll just pretend she didn’t hear anything. At most, she’ll complain that the neighbours could hear us.

- I know, but please, Ashley... can we just talk, quietly?

Fucker doesn’t want me to ruin his image any more than I already have. Why do I even give a shit what he says?

- Fine, I can play nice. Happy?

- Miserable.

I scoff.

- Now you admit it.

- I’m miserable because you are. Because I care. Because looking at you like this hurts.

- Why pretend to be the perfect brother if no one’s looking, huh?

- Because I’m not. Fucking. Pretending.

- You can’t spend 5 minutes with me without hating me!

- You’re the one getting moody for no reason... I don’t hate you, Ashley, ever.

Don’t buy it.

- ... I feel like screaming - I told him.

- I know. Me too, actually.

- Then why don’t we?

He glanced at the door and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

- If it were only the two of us, - he argued - I’d be glad to.

- Well, then what’s the point? You care more about what everyone else would think than about what I want!

He looked around, then smiled and grabbed a pillow.

- And wouldn’t you prefer to be the only one to be able to hear me let loose?

I raised a brow.

- You think I’ll be convinced like that?

- I’m serious, Ashley. The only one I want to see me like this is you... and I don’t want anyone else to see you either.

A smile creeped up on me, and I was forced to pretend it wasn’t genuine.

- Such a smooth talker...

He scoffed and pressed the pillow against his own chest.

- Shut the fuck up and do it.

I did. I hugged him with my head against the pillow, then let a muffled scream come out. When I came back out, Andy was smilling at me.

- It’s your turn now - I snatched the pillow - no time to look stupid.

Once I had the pillow in position, he wrapped his arms tightly around me, buried his face snugly and shouted into the cushion. Afterwards, he stayed motionless, so I pet his head for a bit. I thought any minute he’d start complaining about it, but he stayed there... must have been tired.

- ... Alright, Andrew, time’s up. No crying, your sister has an appointment with the washing machine.

He let me go and sat back down next to me on the bed.

- Come on, I’ll help.

- The fuck you mean ‘come on’? I’m the one doing it, and I didn’t invite you.

- I didn’t buy it the first time and I don’t buy it now, no way you want--

- Of course I don’t wanna do it, but it’ll be easier without you hovering around me. Besides, you wouldn’t risk mom’s rage by doing it for me, would you?

- I’m not dumb enough to do it in front of her, she won’t be looking now.

- Doesn’t matter - I told him as I stood and took my first step towards the door - I’m mad at you so you’re grounded.

I heard him walk behind me then say:

- Oh, how potent your ire--

- Andrew, fuck off! - I said without looking back, my voice cracking along with a smile.

- Thy frigid words--

- I’m not hearing it, Andrew. That shit is weak, actually put some effort into it and “poem me up” when I’m back, like, 5 minutes from now.

He didn’t say a thing, so I turned around to find him shaking his head with a smile.

- Well, you better start working - I warned him - or I’ll tell everyone you’ve been slacking in your Whatever-the-Fuck-they-Teach-you classes.

He feigned offense, I’ll admit, very well.

- Hey, that’s my favorite one!

- Yeah, better impress me later then. Now, time for Grabbing Clothes From the Ground 101.

As Andy was laughing, I walked back into the living room and closed the door behind me. I looked around and mom was nowhere to be seen or heard... shit, should have gotten him to do it for me.

Before anything else, I go back to the couch and gather the candy Andrew let fall on the ground. I stared at them for a while, and wasn’t pissed off at all. I told him I don’t give a shit about it. After shoving them in my pocket, I start gathering the clothes mom spread about the house. I half expected to find something on the balcony, but no, the cunt is so fat she wouldn’t want to walk THAT far, even if it was to fuck me over.

The last area I clear is the one near the door, and when I do, I notice her shoes laying about, near dad’s neat pile of dirty clothes. With a grin, I moved the cursed loafers a bit, just enough that they got mixed in with the mess. In two or three trips, I carried the clothes to the washing machine, making sure not to notice the extras that came with by mistake.

“It’s not my fault you just drop them everywhere!” I’d tell her, not trying at all to hide my satisfaction. I know how much Andy would love to laugh right in her face with me... but knowing he’ll enjoy it, even in silence, is enough.

When I came back to our room, Andy was looking at some papers he had spread on our table. Looks like he really did get prepared. As he turned to look at me, I grabbed one candy and popped it into my mouth.

- Ashley... I thought you didn’t--

- They’re ass, yeah. But I did earn one, didn’t I? Seems like you did too - I handed him one, which he accepted.

- You did earn it... and the right to listen to what I’ve been working on.

- I’ll keep my expectations low - I said while sitting down on his bed, next to the chair he was on.

He showered me with the okayest poetry I’ve heard this week, within my expectations. He really put passion on saying some of his weird little poetic phrases, and there were some curses here and there for my listening pleasure, but it was something else that grabbed me.

- It’s a sonnet - he said - more like adapting one, or rewriting, whatever.

- So you didn’t even write it? Must be the best one.

He seemed genuinely hurt for a moment, then went back to normal.

- It’s for... well, whatever, here goes:

 

Shall I compare thee to a winter’s night?

Thou art more soft and more spectacular:

Storm clouds come to deny the darling sight,

A beauty so frail and crepuscular ;

Sometime too barren the silver dame’s ley’s,

And often is thy pale complexion dimm'd;

And every fair from fair sometime decays,

By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;

But thy eternal winter shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;

Nor shall dream brag thou camest from his glade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:

          So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

          So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

 

Looking a bit nervous, he asked:

- So, what do you think?

- I’m... not sure. Isn’t it even more old timey than your usual stuff?

- I mean, it is Shakespeare... my own version, anyway. I’m also not fully sure it’ll stay like this, I might change it still.

- I probably couldn’t tell the difference. Hell, I don’t know half the fucking words!

He sighed.

- Well, I could... I mean, I’m sure if you had some time with it you could understand... at least a bit more than half of them.

- I don’t really get it, why write if people won’t know what you wanna say? Sounds fucking stupid to me.

He grabbed the paper and stashed it in his backpack.

- Yeah, you’d know all about being stupid, wouldn’t you?

- How could I not, I live with one.

- ... Guess it’s about time I go make diner.

- Hey, I’ll come with.

- No, I... it’s your turn to be grounded, Ashley.

I started laughing, but there was no hint of humor in his face. He got up and left.

- What the fuck? The hell bit him...

I laid down on his bed a bit, looking at the ceiling until I got bored.

I then sat up and started ruffling through his bag. Tonight’s episode: “Leyley and Andy’s stupid fucking paper with too many words on it”.

- There we go! How hard can it be, I just need to think about it.

I held it up and read.

- Ley’s?

I spun around on the chair a bit.

Read it again.

- The fuck’s a complexion dimm’d? Did he forget the ‘e’ in untrimmed? And why write a poem about... no, no, that’s not it.

I stood up and paced around with it in front of me.

- Ley... ley, Leyley?... soft and spectacular - I grinned - but silver? Why not golden? Now, the rest...

He... he must have a dictionary around somewhere.

- Never thought I’d open one without having a gun to my head... well played, Andy. First of all, ley... right, so like a field... but barren?

As I mulled it over, I flipped to a few different pages looking for other things. Turns out dimm’d isn’t even real, I can’t believe he almost made me think it was. I’m half convinced the point of this is to make me mad and confused and... half convinced it was made for me.

- Darling sight, frail and crepuscular. Fair! Couldn’t be that floozy, all she is is unfair. I can’t lose my possessions to... whatever the fuck.

Seriously, stop making up words, it’s embarassing.

- So long as men can breathe or eyes can see... all you’re allowed to look at is me.

I place the piece of paper back into the backpack, satisfied. Soon after, Andy comes to tell me that diner is ready, and that mom and dad will be at the kitchen. Even with those two there, I feel light. I’m the first to get food, and eagerly run back to our room, waiting for Andy to come.

My plate gets colder by the minute, but still I wait. It feels like it’s been hours when he does show up.

- Way to keep a girl waiting! What the hell, Andrew?

He looks at me, showing nothing but annoyance on his face, but I know better than to believe it. I know there’s something else there, for someone who knows how to look.

- Mom wanted to talk about something.

After so much practice, I’d expect him to be a way better liar. I notice now his hands are empty...

- You didn’t even start eating - he tells me.

- As I said, I was waiting... but it’s alright, I forgive you.

His brow raised.

- Forgive me, Ashley?

- Yeah, I do. At least it gave me time to think a little more about your... Shakespear.

I tilt my head, a subtle smile forming on my lips.

- ... Is that why you look like you’ve got brain damage?

- Fuck you! You’re the one that said I could get it, you were right, I got it.

- I said you could understand half the words - he shrugged - if you gave a damn.

- And I do!

- You didn’t when you first listened to it - he crossed his arms. About two seconds later, he was moving towards his backpack with purpose.

- Wha... like I couldn’t remember by myself! You really think I’m that fucking dumb?

He fished the poem out.

- You didn’t even put it back in the same place!

- Yes I fucking did! Look--

He smiled and shook his head.

- ... So I looked at your poem again, what’s the big deal? I’ll bet even you can’t remember it if you’re not looking. AND you’ve been making up words, or just writting them wrong, whatever.

- Before worrying about learning how to read... you should learn to at least cover your damn tracks.

- I didn’t think I had to hide it... You showed it to me. You wanted me to get it. I actually put in some effort into something you wanted, and now you’re all pissy?

- I can’t begin to understand what could move you to read, but it sure as hell wasn’t because I wanted you to!

My eyes fell to the ground for a moment, only a moment, before rising to meet his.

- I did it because I know it matters to you! You got all mopey when I didn’t care about it, so here I am caring about it. You wanted to show me how you felt, and I didn’t get it at first because... like, that was a shit way of telling me, how was I supposed--

He shoved his hand right in front of my face.

- Wait, wait... you said you got it, alright. What was your interpretation?

He looked almost... glad? No, not relieved, maybe... happpy? Strange is what he looks, insane happy.

- ... The only one there is, dumbass! You’re the one who wrote it, you tell me, if you’ve got balls, that is.

His hand shot up to block his mouth, but didn’t do much to stop a giggle from coming out. His eyes stayed the same, locked into mine, expressionless. It made me feel sick.

- Cut that out! Andrew, Fucking STOP!

I pushed him with all the strenght I had, and he fell to the floor, limp. Let out an “ow” and went on laughing.

I reached for the piece of paper.

- No, Ashley - he stopped laughing suddenly, then shoved the poem into one of his pockets without bothering to fold it properly

 

“It’s not for you”

Chapter 2: Sonnet 18

The light of the tv bothers my eyes, makes it hard to sleep. The volume is the closest it could be to mute, and I couldn’t be bothered to try to understand what anyone is saying. Noise is all it is. Same as the cars speeding after dark on the streets below. Same as mom shouting at me about some shit only she cares about. Same as Andrew laughing.

I despise him, I do. The person he is now, at least. He didn’t mean any of it, and that makes it hurt a lot more. He lies to every single person in his life, so that they’ll like him more, but, when it comes to me, he tells me these things because he WANTS me hurt, he WANTS me to hate him. Most of the time I can tell when he’s bullshitting me, but what does he get from it? Why torture me? Does it feel that good to shove in my face how much of a mistake everything I do is?

I should never have touched that stupid poem... but he kept provoking me! What was I supposed to do, just ignore what he wanted? I didn’t know it was all to push me down, show me my place. What he thinks my place should be. What other people made him think I deserve.

He didn’t do it on purpose and OF COURSE he fucking did. He knew, he knew. He wrote it just to fool me, make me--

"Why the hell would I write that shit about you, Ashley? I have a bitch all my own, and she’ll believe anything I say".

He wanted me to think.

Wanted to take his misery and shove it all down my throat so I would choke on it. So he wouldn’t have to be so FUCKING alone in the coffin HE locked himself in.

When my eyes started to water, I thought about barging into our room and shaking him until he got up. All so he could look at me as I broke down... how would that make him feel? Would he pretend to care, actually give a shit or ignore me completely?

Would he enjoy it? He’s not stupid, he knew I’d end up exactly like this. Is seeing me suffer this fun, Andrew? You should feel sick.

All I ever wanted was for us to be happy. I keep trying and trying to save you from yourself, and you HATE me for it.

I know it sucks, Andy, it’s terrible. You never had anyone to tell you all that you told me. I wish I’d known how much you needed it. Needed me. Someone to tell you FUCK sharing. Someone to tell you that you don’t need to do anything you don’t want. Someone to tell you to push Julia into a 6 feet deep hole.

She’s made you think you do, but you don’t love her. Hell, you might even know it, deep down. You couldn’t ever show her who you really are. If you screamed near her, it would shatter her spine. If you told her to shut the fuck up, she would bite her own tongue and never speak again. If you told her who you REALLY wrote that poem for...

 

When I try to open my eyes in the morning, they feel glued together. My back hurts, my throat hurts, my hip hurts. The couch cushions seem to have sunk deeper than ever, I can feel something poking me, maybe part of the wooden frame. It moves when I try to move so... did something really break after I slept a SINGLE NIGHT here?

I sit up and, after some intense blinking, manage to open my eyes fully. Trying to understand what was moving in the couch, I ended up shoving one arm under the cushions.

- Oh... so it really did fall between the seats.

After recovering the remote, I noticed that the tv was already off. Mom must have done that when getting ready to work... but wouldn’t she have woken me up to complain about... whatever she wanted to complain about at the time?

I hear the shower running, so someone is up. It might be dad, since he wouldn’t flip me like a burger for sleeping on the couch... but there’s no way he would be walking around the house before mom woke up, and, if she was with him when he turned off the tv, she wouldn’t just keep quiet and let me sleep.

So it’s Andrew. Andy, I mean. I could move back to the room now, since he won’t be there...

As soon as I put my boots back on, it was like I’d never gone to sleep. Same black shirt, same trusty denim shorts and the only bra so comfy I could forget it’s there at all. I stood up and started rifling through the cabinets to find something to eat, but quickly gave up, there’s nothing worth eating in this house. Even though Andy went to the supermarket yesterday, there was no juice in the fridge either. I’m sure I could find cold coffe on the thermos, but fuck that. If you need to put tons of milk and sugar for something to taste almost fine, it’s just fucking bad.

Andy came out of the bathroom, wearing a black t-shirt and...

- Shorts? Is it Piss Off Your Boss Day, or something?

He didn’t say a word, grabbed a piece of stale bread off the table and headed into our room, only to come back a few seconds later with his backpack.

- Yeah, don’t mind your sister, she’s just trying to wish you--

He stepped through the front door and closed it. I jumped to get to the door handle, grabbed a set of keys and opened it in time to see him speeding down the hall.

- A NICE DAY AT WORK, YOU PRICK!

I slammed the door and sat back down at the kitchen table. A few seconds later, a door behind me opened.

- Andr--

No, of course it wouldn’t be. A shrieking voice attacked my ears.

- What do you think you’re doing, Ashley?

- None of your business.

- You can’t go around screaming your lungs out, people are resting!

- Well, they’re not gonna wake up just to make a noise complaint!

She doesn’t really care about what I say, she had her speech ready from the beginning, and I’m pretty sure I’ve heard the exact same one before. She tells me it’s some great sacrifice tolerating me, and that anyone else but her couldn’t do it. She tells me about the wasted “effort” she put in “raising” me, and how she’s given up on ever getting repaid for it, but at least hopes I would finally stop making trouble. It does drag on a little longer than usual, so I interupt.

- Shouldn’t you be getting ready for work? I would hate to keep you.

She stared at me, looking a little more confused than angry now.

- Today is saturday, you’d know that if you had gotten a job already. Speaking of that, what about those online applications your brother said you were doing yesterday?

Then where did that idiot even... oh... her.

- Don’t hold your breath - I told mom while reaching for the keys again.

- Where are you going now?

- Out.

She held me firmly by the wrist. As I tried to make her let go it felt like it could snap out of place.

- Where, Ashley?

- ... Like you give a shit, fuck off.

- Recently, you’ve been bad enough that I can’t afford to not give a shit. And NEVER talk to me that way.

- What are you gonna do... tell Andrew to handle me? He’s not fucking here! You keep complaining that all I do is rot away at home, shouldn’t you be happy I WANT to leave for a change?

She mulled it over for a bit, then let go of my sore wrist.

- Fine, Ashley, but if you’re not back by dinner, I’m calling the police to report a missing daughter.

Yeah, right. For all I criticize Andy, his lies are a little more believable. A little. When she catches on that I know her enough to recognize an empty threat, I hope she starts shutting up instead. Same results with less of the effort she hates so much, and less of a chance I’ll end up deaf before 40. As I step out of the house, I’m forced to hear her telling me to “at least tie my hair if I won’t take care of it”.

Instead of stopping to do as she told me, I rush down the stairway of the building as fast as I’m able, but still feel like I’m way behind him. I should have immediately caught on that he was going to see his brother-stealing girlfriend, all to pretend to give a shit about her problems so she’ll spread her legs. I’d feel bad for her, but it must be all she's ever wanted.

I make it to the bus stop near our house, but Andy's nowhere to be found. If only mom didn’t have to be such a cunt every single day.

Sadly, my dear brother never let it slip where Julia lives now, but her phone number’s been the same forever, so I’m still not completely helpless.

Since I CAN cover my tracks, I walk around the neighbourhood looking for a shop I’ve never been in. If I started calling the floozy from the same place every time, it could become a problem. Besides, if she’s at least a little smart, she’s already blocked every number I've used anyway.

After some time I notice a place I haven’t seen before, looks like it sells school supplies or something. There’s even a sign right out front that says “cheap crayons”. Damn, that’s... kinda cool. Why couldn’t this be here, I don’t know, 15 years ago?

5 cents each?! With Andy’s allowance I could have had them a--

You know what, it doesn’t matter... I will get one or two, since the store owners usually don’t let you use their phone if you’re not buying anything. On the walk up to the counter, I notice there’s no one here but me and the owner. Must be a failing business, I hope he won’t try to upcharge me for a damn phonecall. I place the pink and green crayons I got on the counter, and he looks at them, then at me.

- ... Ma’am, those are for children.

- Well... I don’t see any around, do you?

He didn’t bother looking.

- I can find you a full set, or colored pencils, maybe some markers if you pref--

- Hey - I put on my shiniest smile - can I use your phone a bit?

His eyebrow curved up, almost forming an arrow to point at his bald ass head.

- I’m sorry lady, we don’t--

- I can’t buy your fucking crayons, I can’t use your damn phone, what can I do?

- ... You can leave now.

- Alright, I get it - I said while grabbing the crayons - I’ll go... put these back where I found them.

He quickly walked around the counter.

- I’ll walk you out - he told me.

- ... Isn’t it your job to stay in there?

Crossing his arms, he made a show of looking around.

- I don’t see any other customers around, do you?

So I actually returned the dumb crayons and walked away. Away from the store and further away from home, to keep looking for a place that won’t kick me out for fuck all.

After hoping from store to store for about an hour, the first place that let me use their landline, and for free too, was a gas station convenience store, a very small one. As I dialed Julia’s number, the clerk kept looking over at me and smiling. Not sure if she’s friendly or suspicious of me. Either way, guess the death threats will have to be whispered today.

First try, no luck. It’s no surprise, she usually picks up around the third try. Longest I’ve had to try so far was five times.

Today she must be looking forward to hear what I’ve got to say, because on the second try the call went through. I waited a bit, looking for her pathetic little “umm, who’s there?” but there was only silence. As I prepared myself to start the conversation with the hoarsest whisper I could, a familiar voice spoke on the other line in a deathly serious tone.

- So, you’re the one who’s been bothering my girl?

The second I recognized Andy’s voice, I lifted the phone to hang up without saying a word. I froze like that a few seconds, and I’m not sure why--

- No, I... I was trying to reach you, Andrew.

- Don’t ever try this bullshit again.

- Andrew, listen, I’m... I’m at a gas station, I knew you wouldn’t pick up your own phone, not for me, not for a random number. I couldn’t stand mom--

- Touch a hair on her head and you’re done.

I couldn’t help but laugh a little.

- You’re not even talking to me, are you? Just want her to hear you being tough - My jaw started shaking, and letting it move or trying to lock it in place both hurt. As tears welled up in my eyes, I shut them as hard as I could - Fuck, Andrew, really?

- I’m serious, try - and he went silent suddenly.

- ... Did you hang up?

In the same tone he answered:

- No - a faint voice in the background said something I couldn’t understand, and he answered it a little softer - let me handle it, trust me.

- I didn’t know where to go so... I ended up walking here. I’m a little far.

He grunted.

- I know you can’t afford to just... talk to me now. Julia would know something’s up. You have to keep pretending I called to harass her.

- I don’t have time for this - he said, less intimidating by the second.

- She’s already complaining, worried. She wouldn’t dream that you’re fooling her, though.

- One more time and the police will get involved.

I don’t know if he’s actually impatient or just pretending... making it obvious for my sake. It’s hard when he’s not here for me to look at him. I do manage to open my eyes and look around once again. My head is pounding now, but... but I know what to say.

- There’s something I want to ask... “get lost” is yes, “fuck off” is no. - I wait a couple seconds, take a deep breath, then say - still there? Right. Did you show her... your sonnet?

- Fuck off!

I felt my entire body relax. Muscles I didn’t even realize I was clenching suddenly went limp and I almost let the phone fall to the ground. After holding it by the cord, I brought it up to my mouth again and asked:

- So it wasn’t for her?

When he answered, his voice sounded much closer than before, like it could echo inside my head:

- You’re rotten.

I heard the call end and collapsed to the ground. The phone slingshot itself up and down next to me as the clerk rushed closer.

She forced me to sit down on a seat near the bathroom, then bombarded me with questions about how I felt. Barely able to think, I mostly answered “I’m fine” until she bought it.

- I got worried, you look so pale!

- I... I have a pale complexion, yes.

I hug my own chest, fuck, my head hurts.

The nosy lady told me she saw that I was acting weird on the call, but didn’t want to interrupt.

- Are you... sorry to ask, but are you a runaway?

- None of your damn business.

Someone’s running from me, actually.

- ... Sorry for prying.

I stood up, a little wobblier than I would hope.

- Have you... eaten anything?

- You were looking at me the whole time, you know I didn’t take any food! Just used the phone, like I told you.

- No, I meant to ask if you’re hungry.

Oh, right. I didn’t really stop to think about it... the last time was dinner. How much did I even walk to get here?

- Well... that’s also none of your business, lay off!

She looked very worried.

- I can get you something.

- Don’t even try to upsell me, I don’t have any money.

- What I’m saying is that I’ll pay for it.

Huh? Oh, she’s stupid, good. I really should have realized it sooner, she’s not fit for this sales thing at all.

- In that case, could you get me something sweet?

- Umm, we have donuts.

- That sounds fine, it should do.

She quickly went to get my donut. I’d say it tasted alright. Good, even. Maybe because it was free... for me.

- So, how do you feel?

- Still fine.

A little... rotten.

But even then, I stood up and my legs worked better.

- The donut was good, I’ll be going now - I took the first step and stopped. She looked at me wide eyed, like I could fall any moment - oh, just saying, we’re not friends or anything. I’m not coming back here ever, and your questions are really annoying.

They distracted me a bit, at least.

- ... Yeah, that’s alright - she looked down.

As the midday sun made my headache worse, I started walking back home. There were a lot of people and cars passing around, doing whatever it is they do every day. I’d never been here... and don’t care to be again.

Still, could I say I wish I were home when I know he’s not there? When he’s with her, pretending to love every second of it.

He was worried for me.

And wouldn’t do a thing about it. I told him: I’m far away, I miss you. I feel like you won’t care until I force you to see it. How miserable I am. How much it hurts me to know you’re throwing yourself away on her.

You left me to suffer so that she could be a little happier. So that you could play house for a bit. You knew I’d have to deal with mom.

You knew I wouldn’t forget how you laughed at me, how you looked at me. You didn’t tell me it was for her, but you let me think it, made me think it. You told me “It’s not for you” knowing I would think about it, and think about it until I cried myself to sleep.

You didn’t even look at me, talk to me, up until you were performing for her! Do you have ANY IDEA how much that stings? How much it eats me inside that all I was to you was a tool to make yourself look like a good, protective boyfriend?

How much it meant to me to at least know, you weren’t really thinking of her. That my biggest fears weren’t true, and that there was a chance, one chance, that you really are just a helpless liar. That it was about me all along.

Then you made sure to take that hope away.

“You’re rotten”.

And who made sure I ended up this way? You spread through all of me then hate me for it? Could you be more unfair if you tried?

 

I made it back, in less time than expected. The sun is still shining, it’s still time for lunch. Lunch with the family. The donut will have to do. I walk a little further, my feet starting to feel a little sore.

Finally I reach the bus stop. All there is to do is wait until he's back, until he doesn’t hate me, until he can’t ignore me because I’m right in front of him.

And he’ll say:

- Ashley - with all the sweetness he has in his body - you look like shit.

Chapter 3: A Writer's Trash...

- ... That’s really the first thing you have to say to me, Andrew?

I stare up at him from the bench. As the bus drives away, Andy’s face is surrounded by grey buildings and the half empty moon, yellowed out by pollution. He’s wearing a black sweater on top of his shirt now and traded his shorts for jeans. As I’m looking at him, my body lets me know that it is now way colder than when I left the house.

Seeing him reach with his hand, trying to touch my cheek, I backed away as far as I could. He got the message and backed off.

- Have you been crying?

- The fuck do you think, asshole?

- ... Don’t try to pretend it’s my fault.

He knows it is. The guilt is in those damn wandering eyes.

- I know you wanted to come running... she just--

- DON’T start, Ashley. I can’t have one day with my girlfriend--

- Yeah.

- Without you making it about you!

Does he really not get it? There’s no way he does it on accident.

- You didn’t even want to go to her, you just wanted to punish me!

He threw his arms up.

- What use would be punishing you? You never learn a thing!

- If it’s so useless, why do you keep doing it? Is it fun, Andrew? Do you LIKE it?

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then said almost calmly.

- This is ridiculous. Let’s go home, please.

I know he would prefer we have this “talk” behind a few closed doors, but... today, that’s out of the question. He doesn’t get to stay the whole day away from all that shit just to drag me back as soon as he’s here.

- ... I haven’t eaten.

It caught him off guard. For a moment I saw, he was horrified. Then, quickly went back to pretending things were alright.

- All the more reason to come home. Even if there’s nothing ready, I’ll make something for you.

- I just... I really don’t want to. Mom told me to get lost, don’t think she’ll like seeing me again today.

He’s afraid. For me, for himself, doesn’t matter. He’ll come around.

- You still have to come back eventually... I’ll talk to her, it’ll be fine.

- She’ll just end up blaming you, Andrew! Come on, don’t you know how this goes by now?

He sighed.

- I’m not looking forward to going back either, but... we can’t just stay out until they go to sleep.

- We don’t need to. If we just skip dinner, maybe they’ll get distracted with the tv... or, realize their kids haven’t been home a while and--

- Right, I get it - he bit his own thumb, thinking about my “plan” - yeah, I guess that’s the best we can hope for.

- ... So, where are we--

- An actual food place, no fast food.

- Fucking buzzkill - I said under my breath.

- And I’ve already eaten.

Yeah, I’m sure you have.

- Julia?

- At Julia’s, yes - he hissed, then, after an awkward amount of silence, asked - you cold?

- I was wondering when you’d ask.

I held out my hand and, after rolling his eyes, he gave me his sweater.

Comfier and warmer than before, I walked behind him in silence to the nearest, and cheapest, “food place”. On the way, I saw a few bars and fast food chains, all of them way fuller than where we ended up. I’m pretty sure it’s on purpose. If I didn’t know already that he doesn’t want to be seen with me, I’d be offended.

Across from one another, we sat on one of the booths next to a large window. The waiter handed each of us a menu, and Andy accepted. I wondered why until the waiter came back to ask our order and he answered for me:

- She’ll have a spaghetti bolognese and I’ll get... medium fries. - in the moment of silence that came, the waiter judged him slightly - anything to drink, sis?

... He’s lucky it’s what I already wanted to order anyway.

- I’ll have this one - I pointed at the menu.

After leaning in to check what it was, he clasped his hands together and said:

- I’m very sorry, we’re out of strawberries.

- Then, I don’t know, should’t you cross it out on the menu? Is that hard?

- Ashley!

- Right, right - I looked back at the menu, then at the waiter - are you short on bananas too?

- We do have bananas, ma’am.

- Then a banana smoothie.

He nodded and went away. When I faced the other side of the table, I noticed Andrew staring at me.

- What?

He looked around, then back at me, trying not to crack up.

- Why are you such a bitch, Ashley, damn!

- I just hate it, really. Why tell me you’re selling if you’re not selling?

He’s laughing quietly now... it’s nice.

- Since when are you this passionate about this?

- Oh, you should have been there. Today I went to some shitty ass store, they were selling crayons for 5 cents each.

- And what’s the catch?

- The catch is, he wouldn’t fucking sell them! When I went up to the counter, he tried to sell me a bunch of other stuff instead of them.

- That’s fucked... so, you didn’t get any?

- Do I look like I bought anything? Got kicked out, too.

He cracked his knucles, making the least convincing mad face I’ve ever seen.

- Where was this place, again?

- Ha... few blocks away.

- Why were you even - he started to ask in a light hearted tone, but stopped himself.

- Yeah, why did I even.

He leaned in, eyes locked on mine.

- Because you wanted to harass Julia.

My instincts were telling me to deny it, but, for the second time today, I feel like doing the exact opposite it tells me to do.

- Yeah... it’s me, I’ve been doing that for a while.

He was taken aback. Not because he didn’t already know, he just never expected to hear it from my mouth.

- Then fucking st--

- You haven’t told her - I held back the satisfaction that came with those words as much as I could. Trying, like him, to look calm, neutral - why?

- Fuck off, Ashley.

- Why haven’t you told her? She already knows it’s me anyway, all she needs is for you to tell her you believe her.

A few seconds passed in silence, as I waited for his answer. When I decided to press the question, he smiled and said:

- Thank you very much!

While I was lost trying to understand what the hell he meant, I got startled by the waiter showing up from behind me to deliver our food and drinks.

- Wow, sorry, didn’t mean--

- Yeah, fuck!

- Come on, sister - the gentle tone of his voice made me want to throw up - be nice.

- ... Thanks for the food.

As soon as the waiter walked out of view, Andrew was staring daggers at me.

- Even after everything - he said - she still thinks of you as a friend.

- Is that how you stayed together al these years? Whenever you slip and show her who you really are, she just doesn’t believe it?

- She’s good, Ashley, actually good.

- Aww. Do you love that about her?

He leaned back on the seat. I’m losing him.

- I do. Is this why you wanted me to take you out? To try to tell me how I feel again?

- Yeah, I even lied about not eating anything.

- I shoul--

- I got a free donut at the gas station. The one I called you from.

Ask about it.

- The one you called Julia from.

- It wasn’t her I wanted, and you know that.

Julia’s boyfriend tried to complain about something, but I didn’t listen. I never invited him to this conversation. I grabbed my silverware and started eating. Drank a bit of the smoothie. Tried to look a little desperate. I’m sure my “I cried all day” look helped, because it worked fairly quickly.

Andy came back.

- ... Why didn’t you eat anything else?

- Not like I had any money... and I didn’t want to go back home, obviously. Not without you there.

- You didn’t want to go with me either.

- Did you?

He didn’t answer.

- Anyway, my point was - I stood up and crossed to his side of the table, he moved to the edge of the booth so I couldn’t sit next to him - I fucking missed you, okay?

- Ashley... go eat your food, please.

- I could do it from here. I don’t want it to get too cold, so I won’t take long either.

He sighed and moved to the side, I sat down. He made an effort to keep looking forward instead of at me.

- You should get working on those fries too, Andrew - I pulled my plate and smoothie over.

- They’re for you too. From what you told me, you didn’t have lunch either.

Shoving spaghetti in my face, I said:

- Had a donut.

- ... How did you even land a free donut with your sunny disposition?

I set the fork down. Finally!

- I kind of... passed out.

He turned to face me and I saw it again, horrified.

- Are... are you serious?

- I’m fine now, thanks for asking. I just started feeling awful after we talked on the phone... I crashed straight down, almost snapped the landline.

- How far did you walk without eating?

- I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking about that! I didn’t know what else to do, I just wanted to reach you somehow.

I pressed my head against his shoulder and he din’t try to pull away. Andy stayed right where he was, stunned.

- Ashley I’m...

- It’s fine, I forgive you...

Andy let me wrap my arms around his chest, and even stroked my hair a bit before trying to gently push me off.

- We should get going soon, let’s eat.

- Let me stay a bit more... please.

- Ashley, this is--

- Everyone can see I cried today. The waiter thinks I’m a crazy bitch with a nice brother... how weird is it for you to just... comfort me?

He resisted, but not much. How could he, all he wanted was to find a good enough excuse. Andy held me tight now, and I squeezed him right back. His chest would rise and fall as he tried to keep his breathing in check, but that didn’t do a thing to slow his heart down.

- You needed this too, didn’t you, Andrew?

- I miss having you around - he admitted in a whisper - without fighting. It tires me out...

I let go of his chest, lifted my hand and stroked his face slowly, turning his head until we were facing each other. Our noses could almost touch. I was afraid he’d back away, but he stayed right where I put him. No moves to put distance between us, or to turn away from me.

- Let’s not fight today, then - I told him in a whisper.

- A truce. Untill I go to work on monday, at least.

I grinned and edged closer. When I noticed him starting to move back, I sped up and planted a kiss on his cheek.

- Deal... and don’t worry, I won’t push it.

His expression showed a hint of suspicion, but... it’s not like he’ll fight me on it, right?

I break away from him and go back to eating my meal.

- Want a bite, Andrew?

- ... I’ll eat some of your fries.

- What about the smoothie?

- Nah, not my thing.

I pretended to pity him:

- It’s such a shame all those cigarettes ruined your taste buds...

- They’ve been rotten from the start - he chuckled.

I turned to look at him in a snap, Andrew was leaning in to reach the straw of the drink I offered him. I watched as he drank it. While he wasn’t looking, I took a deep breath.

- You didn’t need to be shy, - I teased - you could have just told me you wanted it.

Turning to me, some white foam still inside his mouth, he said:

- It’s way more fun to just take it.

I laughed loud enough that Andrew worried for a second about what the few other people around might think.

- What a terrible thing to say, I can’t believe you, Andy!

He averted his eyes, loking a little guilty, but soon went back to smiling at me.

- It was delicious, thanks, Ashley.

- Hey, you’re the one paying.

He placed a finger on his chin, pretending to remember it right then.

- Oh, yeah... then how about you thank me?

I lightly bounced my shoulder off his.

- In your dreams!

- As if I had those. Be nice to me in my nightmares, alright?

- Dream or nightmare - I closed in, right up to his ear, and spoke softly - I’ll love you either way.

- ... Thanks, Ashley - he said, a bit mopey all of a sudden.

- You’re supposed to say it back, you know?

- Ha, maybe in your dreams - he cluthed his backpack then started to take it off - I’ve gotta go have a smoke do you mind?

What’s this all of a sudden?

- Can’t you do that when we’re heading home?

He tilted his head with a smile, the first one that’s felt... fake.

- And end up blowing smoke on your face? Wasn’t it you who kept telling me how much you hate that?

He’s really not gonna back off?

- Did I never tell you how much I hate being left behind?

- Come on, give me some credit. I’m not leaving you.

- You’re not staying with me either.

- It’ll just be a minute. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say.

So fucking forced.

- Did you tell that to... you know what? Fine, go feed your addiction.

He knows it’s anything but fine. But I have to play along, at least until Andy’s back in my corner. I was so sure I had him, too... he didn’t run away when I was getting closer, so... is it just the words?

- I meant it, you won’t miss me long - that man told me.

- I’ll still be missing you, Andrew.

- ... Me too, it’s a cold world outside without you.

If anyone’s used to being cold by now, it’s you.

As I was turning back to my food, my eyes drifted to the backpack by my side. After making sure that Andy wasn’t around, I opened the largest of the three pockets. There were clothes and not much else. In the middle pocket there were a dry towel and a plastic bag. In the smallest of the pockets, I found a toothbrush, a shaving razor and... a half used pack of condoms.

My stomach turns. What did I expect to find? The poem that’s not here, maybe. Proof that he had plans to spend the night with Julia and gave up on them, for me.

Looking at the condoms I wonder, how many--

NO!

No, that’s enough. I zip everything back up and place it back at my side. The food suddenly looks revolting.

If only they had strawberries it wouldn’t be so...

I can hear Andrew’s steps coming closer, and I dread seeing him.

- I’m back, hope it wasn’t... Ashley, are you--

- I think... I’m feeling a little sick.

He tries to get up close to my face, but I swat him away.

- What are you feeling? Do you need anything, there’s a pharmacy nearby, I could--

- Yeah, I feel like throwing up.

- Can you walk? I’ll tell the waiter to pack up the--

- I’m still eating - I twisted the fork to gather some spaghetti - it’s better than having nothing to throw up.

- I don’t think--

- I hate the taste, Andrew... I’m not vomitting on an empty stomach, please don’t make me.

He stared at me silently for a couple seconds, then pressed his head to mine.

- You won’t throw up, I promise. I’m goi--

- Just go already!

He dashed out and the waiter almost went after him, thinking he was trying to leave without paying. After seeing me, he came to ask what was wrong. I ignored him and kept eating, a little pasta, a little bit o fries... no smoothie. It’s ruined.

I couldn’t finish any of it before he came back, and by then I couldn’t stand it anymore. Andrew spilled a few different kinds of medicine on the table and tried to ask me about the symptoms to decide which was best. I just chose the only option that came as a pill and swallowed it with some water the waiter had brought me. Aren’t I lucky, second freebie of the day...

- Let’s go, Andrew.

The waiter packed the solid food and Andrew paid. As I got up from the seat, my brother offered everything from helping me walk to carrying me home. I refused, my legs worked fine. He worried about me the whole way. Even gave me his plastic bag to hold in case I had to barf.

We made it to our front door without incident, but that’s only half the problem. It’s late, way too late, and I’m sure she’s waiting. Mom doesn’t have work early tomorrow, and doesn’t have anything she’d rather do than tell me off.

As we step through the door, she comes to meet us. First she looks at Andrew, confused, then at me. The rage in her eyes grows even faster than I’d come to expect.

- What did you do this time, Ashley? - she stared me up and down - Don’t tell me, I can see it - turning back to Andrew she asked - which bar was it?

As if on cue, the spaghetti tried to come out. I managed to hold it back, but a bit of it still made it to my mouth, more disgusting than ever. I gulped it down quietly, but mom would never thank me for saving the carpet.

- She’s just sick, alright? - he jumped to defend me, but it could never be enough to convince her.

- Is that what she told you? Look at her, for all I know someone might have taken adv--

- NO ONE did a thing... she was with me, we went out to eat when I got back.

He grabbed onto my hand and started pulling me to our room.

- I’m not done! Do you two have any idea--

- You can tell me in the morning... she’ll be laying down - he turned to her with a chilling smile - can you get the bucket? she might need it.

- You can get it yourself... and don’t think we won’t be talking about... this!

She gestured to the both of us.

Andy opened then closed our door, took me to the right side of the room and helped me get on his bed.

He started to turn away, maybe to go get the bucket, but I reached to hold onto his shirt. Andy stopped, and I kept pulling until he let the backpack fall to the ground and came to lay down too.

- I’m sorry, Ashley, you don’t... none of this is your fault.

- Why am I never enough, Andy?

He squeezed me in the dark, covering me with his blanket.

- Don’t worry about her... you know what mom thinks doesn’t matter.

- I try so hard not to think about it, not to see it, not to... - imagine you this way - I hate her, I hate her, I hate HER.

- We won’t have to be here forever... we can go on, be happy.

- But can you even imagine it? How would you be happy? How would I? What is it that I have to--

- I can imagine it, Ashley... I write it sometimes. Most days I feel like there’s no hope, but sometimes I can see it! Like it’s clear, easy - I stare at him, but can’t see a thing. Can’t tell if he’s serious - and all I can do for now is write it down. I’m sorry that it’s hard to understand, but at least for me... it helps. I wish it could help you too.

I feel weak, like my voice can barely come out, but I try anyway.

- ... It wasn’t for me.

He went silent and, for a moment, I regretted saying it. He’ll back out, he won’t--

- It could be, Ashley. I wrote it because it made me happy. When I let you read it, I should have let you have it... I wanted you to have it. While it’s in my hands, it’s just a text, a work in progress. But you, you would be a reader. Being yours, it would finally be a poem. I wouldn’t think again and again about how perfect it could have been, it would just... be.

- Why did you... you gave up on me.

- ... You didn’t care about it, I felt that there was no point. No matter how much it mattered to me... to you it would always be trash.

- You never told me.

- You had no way of knowing, I just... I hoped you could somehow. You’ve always been observant, when you want to be.

- Is it too late to want to try?

His weight shifted as he pulled away and got up from the bed. It felt empty without him. What did I say wrong this time? How could he go away now? Now of all times. Again and again, I’m rotten, rotten, rott--

He came back. I felt him sitting next to me, his back turned at first. After a couple of seconds, he got under the covers with me and I rushed to cling to him.

Andy grabbed one of my wrists and gently guided it, encouraging me to place it between us on the bed. He let go and, with his other hand, placed a piece of paper in my hands.

- It’s yours.

I was holding it. A crumpled little ball of paper. As my hand moves, it moves. Tries to slip away. Doesn’t matter if it does, I can pick it back up, always. No matter what happens, he can’t take it back, and no one else would dare try. His hope, my future!

All of it is mine, just mine. 

I brought it close to my chest and leaned my head into him, spreading my tears all over my face, the sheets and his shirt.

Then, still clutching it with one hand, I moved back enough to be able to look at him. It was too dark to actually see anything, but I could still reach for him, feel him there with me. As I tried to feel around his face, he suddenly twitched.

- That’s my eye!

- Well, close it stupid!

- ... Why?

- ... Close it. Both of them.

I couldn’t tell if he did it, but somehow I felt sure that he had. With the poem in hand, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. There was no resistance. I rose to meet him. I could do it. Maybe I’d miss, but then... by this point, he’d let me try again.

I keep going and going, bringing his face closer and closer to mine and

I can’t do it I can’tdoitican’tdoit.

- Andrew, can you... get the bucket.