I yank him by his shirt so that his friends aren’t in earshot and I drag him past a few trees. I can tell that he's too inebriated for this to be a productive conversation. But I have to try.
"You're being immature," I tell him as he leans against the trunk of the tree. The sun is on the cusp of setting behind the rest of the mountain and the cold air has settled into the bones of the pines. Noises of people laughing and playing drunk games can be heard inwaves of echoes surrounding us but I wasn’t going to sit back and watch my big brother throw his life away.
"And you're being annoying," Declan slurs his words, his eyes a fluttering mess as he chuckles ridiculously.
I step up to him and grab him by his cheeks with one hand, pinching them together as I bring his face straight to force him to look at me.
"You can't even freaking see straight," I accuse, and he stumbles into the tree a bit before swiping my hand away with his own.
"Get off me," he whines before falling onto the ground.
I watch him; the pain of seeing my brother ruin his life stampedes me. He's always been like a second best friend to me, and I never had a reason to doubt who he'd become. Regardless of the rumors I'd heard aboutDeclan Winters going downhillfor whatever reason, I never imagined the day I would witness his actual downfall.
"Deck, I really don't want to do this right now. You're being stubborn," I say as I try to help him back up off the snowy ground but he swipes at me again, denying my assistance.
Instead, he sloppily pushes himself up and uses the tree to balance himself once more.
"You approached me, remember? And besides, stubbornness runs in our family, sis." He's right. Even wasted on weed and beer, he's absolutely right. We're all laced with a little stubbornness but the way he's justifying his behavior is more than just being stubborn, it's concerning.
"Can't you see that what you're doing is hurting you? Hurting me?" I try to reason with him, let him know that his behavior is affecting me, and I want him to be better than this. I know he can be. This is my big brother, the most kind-hearted person I’ve ever known. Someone I’ve always looked up to. But now, I feel hopeless as I look into his empty eyes.
"Whatever is going on with you, I can help you figure it out, Deck, but this…" I wave my hand at him, and I inadvertently make a disgusted face at him while doing so. "This is not like you at all."
"If you'd just mind your own business, it wouldn't be hurting you. And people can change, you know. Besides, I'm just having fun, sis. Lighten up." He staggers a bit as he murmurs his drunken words.
There's having fun and getting into a little bit of trouble, and then there's being troubled and turning to something to take away that burden of whatever guilt is twisting in your brain. And I can tell, something is bothering him. He's not doing this so he can have a fun story to tell when this weekend is all over. He's doing this because he wants to forget something, because he thinks he deserves to feel empty, but for what?
Watching Deck in this state is almost like watching his soul being stripped away, and I hate that he has no will to fight for it back.
"You know people talk about you. They say that ever since that party you went to last month, you've gone off thedeep end, like something changed you. What happened?" I cross my arms over my chest, but I try to calm my tone in hopes that I'll get through a little better.
Declan hasn't been this way for long. But it was like a one-eighty switch. One day he was just his normal, friendly football-star self and then the next, he was the town's most troubled occupant and not giving a fuck about the consequences of his actions.
He started skipping classes and broke into the liquor store one night. He's been absent from dinner with Dad and I and his whole attitude just sucks.
"Nothing happened to me. And I think people need to mind their own damn business." He waves his hand around in the air before pointing his finger right at me. "Starting with you."
I roll my eyes, feeling hopeless that this conversation will go anywhere but not wanting to give up on him.
"Talk to me, Deck," I plead. "I'm trying to fucking help you here."
"I don't want your help," he says before finding an abandoned solo cup on the ground a few feet over and stumbling over to pick it up.
I try to rush to it first but he's faster. He picks it up and downs whatever unknown, leftover contents were inside causing me to groan at his stupidity.
"You might not care about your life anymore, Deck. But I do," I tell him, ripping the cup out of his hand and tossing it away from us.
"You want a fuckin’ trophy or somethin'? Cuz I got plenty of them I’m willing to part with." He laughs and I have to stop myself from slapping him in the face. Deck worked hard for all of the awards and trophies he’s collected over the years. How could he be so insensitive?
"You're being an ass."
"I don't see the problem," he mumbles before we're interrupted by one of his friends.
"Deck? You comin'?" A holler comes from somewhere behind the trees, but I don't take my attention off my brother as he stumbles toward me.
"Yeah, be right there," he shouts back before reaching out to lay his hand over my shoulder. I almost avoid it but I'm afraid he's about to fall over again so I stand still to let him say whatever tumbles out of his mouth next.
"Let it go, Liv. There are just some things in life that you wouldn't understand," he says; his words gurgle against his drunk-washed tone.
