Nate shook his head. “I know they want you to believe that, but family doesn’t have to work this way. Mom and Dad stopped being family when they lied to me and ignored you.”
I looked away, not wanting to rehash old memories. Nate was never afraid of his past. No, he used it daily as momentum. Meanwhile, my memories held me down like dead weight and forced me too long for perfection.
“They’re fucking liars,” he reminded me in a harsh whisper. “The entire country is reminded of it every four years. I’m reminded of it every time I get in the water and swim an impressive time. You know, coach had me take extra drug tests? I’m not even the one on the team he needs to worry about…”
My eyebrows furrowed in anger for my brother. “He thought you were using?”
“Yeah. I don’t blame him. I am the son of two athletes whose careers were built on doping. Who still don’t think they’ve done anything wrong. They’ll never say ‘sorry.’ Not to you, or me, or anyone.” His voice was a little softer now, understanding that the facts hurt me more. “They can’t because they love themselves more than they could love anything or anyone else.”
“Do you get how terrifying it’ll be if I don’t help?” I asked. “I set up their retirement fund, for God’s sake.”
“Let ‘em blow through it,” Nate dared. “After this summer, you’re coming with me.”
I sighed. “Nate…”
“We’ll figure it out. Together this time. I know…” He swallowed, hesitant now. I knew he was thinking about what he did when we were younger. “I know I let them control me at one point, too. That’s my biggest regret because I saw what it did to you.”
“It wasn’t your job to take care of me,” I said. “It’s still not your job.”
“Yes, it is.” He shook his head. “You can be kind and forgiving to everyone. But don’t do that to me. If you need permission, here it is: be angry with me, Kira. Because out of everyone in this world, I should have looked out for you then.”
“You were a kid,” I whispered, mirroring the pain in his voice.
“So were you. Except, you were alone,” he reminded me. “They didn’t care that you were alone and hurting yourself.”
I sighed and scratched behind my ear. “It’s common for people not used to therapy to think my self-harm was a cry for attention.”
Nate frowned. “I don’t care. I don’t care what kind of family we come from. That was unforgivable. You don’t hate them now so I’ll hate them enough for the both of us.”
“Hating is exhausting.”
“I enjoy being tired. It makes me feel like I’ve been productive. It’s my version of Excel spreadsheets.” He shrugged. I laughed a little, and he smiled at the sound.
“I’m sorry,” he said when my laughter died down.
“You don’t have to be—” I stopped mid-sentence when he pulled me in for a hug. He whispered another apology, and I wrapped my arms around him to return the hug.
“Please, don’t come to their rescue,” Nate begged. “Just try my way this once?”
I nodded. “Fine. This once… but it’s going to blow up in our faces.”
“Then, I’ll enjoy watching it burn. And I’ll teach you to see the merits of the collapse too.”
* * *
I was doing my monthly clean out of the garage when Leo pulled into the driveway. My nostrils burned from the smell of Clorox and Pine-Sol as I tackled the layers and layers of dust on any surface I could find. I used cleaning as an excuse to avoid things I wanted to do for Anderson Lawn — like figure out the money problem — and things I needed to do for myself — like working on my script.
Last night, I’d scrapped my entire script and started on a new idea from an old notebook I found in the back of my closet. The risk felt great but if I could pull it off, it could be worth it. At least, that’s what I hoped would happen. After spending a decent chunk of my morning reading forums about the mentorship’s rigid standards and impressive alumni, I got a little excited and wanted to take more of a risk. Some of the candidates were writing for Disney and Nickelodeon now.
“Kira,” Leo’s voice pulled me out of my musings. My hand stopped scrubbing an old workbench stained with red paint spots that had accidentally dropped on it when we remodeled the living room. I’d been crouched on the ground, so I had to crane my neck to take in Leo’s smile.
“Hey.” I mirrored his smile and brushed my brow with the back of my hand to make sure my forehead wasn’t too shiny from sweat. “What have you got there?”
Leo moved closer as I stood up. He smelt exactly like he did when we went dancing. It proved difficult for me to keep focused on his answer when his body was inches away from my own. I wanted to feel him press me close against him again. I wanted the warmth of his breath on my skin as he spoke and the feel of his fingers rubbing up and down my spine, making my legs feel as weightless as an exhale.
“Old gaming system.” Leo held the box up for me to get a better look. The blue and white design brought back a host of memories, most of which involved me hanging out in the background, watching Nate and Leo play.
“Wow, you kept that?” I toss my overused sponge into a nearby bucket of water. “Nate sold his a few years back for the upgrade.”
