Skye puffs out his cheeks even more. "You don’t get it, stiff-ass! We’re playing an alien invasion. Storm’s the alien who attacked our house. Nothing worse could happen than an alien invasion, right? I’ve got to defend our home from invaders from space!"
I see red. "There are worse things in this world than a fucking alien invasion," I growl, and yank the toy gun out of his hands.
"Hey!" Skye yells, but I shove him hard, and he falls on the floor.
"You two either get back in bed right now, or I’m calling Dad, and he’s hauling your asses back to school before lunch!"
Skye’s eyes fill with tears. Storm gives me the middle finger.
"Fuck you, Bay! You smell like booze! Were you drinking or what?"
"It’s medicine for my throat," I snap, voice rough. "Now get your asses upstairs, or I swear to Fate, tomorrow you’re going to school no matter what."
That finally gets through. They stomp upstairs, sulking and muttering.
A minute later, I hear the front door open. Uncle Jordan’s here. He comes every day, helps clean, cooks for us, tries to make Dad’s life easier.
He takes one look at me, pale, pissed off, wrecked, and raises a brow.
"Trouble with your brothers?"
"Story of my life. I just sent their sorry asses to bed. They’re supposed to be sick, but they’re running around like it’s fucking recess," I mutter and turn away.
Then I head upstairs too.
Nothing and no one can make this day better. Hell, nothing can makeanythingbetter anymore.
???
The next morning, after another long, cold shower, I pull on a thick hoodie and loose sweatpants, sling my backpack over one shoulder, and finally head down to the kitchen to join the rest of the family for breakfast.
Snow is still away, spending a few more days at Uncle Van’s. Skye and Storm are in their rooms since they’re staying home another day, so Dad didn’t bother waking them up for breakfast.
My father isn’t there, he had to leave early for a meeting with one of his local clients who wants to commission a music composition from him.
So it’s just Rain, my youngest brother Sun, and my dad. I’m relieved; it means a quieter morning without everyone talking over each other like they usually do.
The moment Dad sees me, he walks right up and looks into my eyes.
"Bay… are you alright? You look really pale." Worry flashes across his face. "Are you sure you don’t want to stay home another day?"
"No. It’s my first few days at a new school. I’d rather not show up later than everyone else or they’ll just label me as the new kid," I mumble gloomily, sitting down at the table as a waveof pain runs through me. I still can’t sit on a hard surface, but I’ll just have to deal with it.
I force down a few bites of toast, but it tastes like paper. Then I notice Sun staring at me, his big light-green eyes fixed on my face.
My youngest brother is three and a half, and two days ago he went to preschool for the first time. Normally I’d ask Dad how he’s doing, if Sun handled being separated from us well, but my own pain drowns everything else out. There’s no space left in me to care about anyone right now.
Rain, on the other hand, is glued to his phone, silent. Eventually Dad says, "Rain, put the phone down. No screens at the table, please."
"Daaad," Rain groans, setting his phone aside with a pout.
"I’ll pick you guys up today," Dad says, looking at both of us. "I took the day off, have a few errands to run in town."
I don’t reply. I don’t care whether Jordan or Dad picks me up, none of it matters.
Then something occurs to me.
"Dad, you have a gun, right?"
