Me: I would much rather be there taking your cock than being here.
But I also can’t depend on Miles to make me forget my fucking life either. It’s not like my situation will ever change.
Me: I’m gonna go in. I’ll message you later.
Me: And thanks. For checking on me. It means a lot.
I don’t wait for a reply, instead getting out of the car and shoving my phone into my back pocket.
Cedric and Dad live in the same house we all lived in when Mom was alive. The first time I’d ever lived anywhere else was when I left for college. It’s hard being here sometimes because there are memories around every corner. Every closet I’d tuck away in while playing hide-and-seek with Mom and Cedric. The table I would sit at to do my homework, Dad getting upset with me because school didn’t come as easily to me as it did to Cedric. The backyard where Dad would play catch with Cedric, but never asked me to play. His excuse was always that sports weren’t my thing, and he wasn’t wrong, but that’s not why he never played with me like he did with my brother. He just didn’t care enough to make the effort.
I climb the porch steps, trying to ignore the twisting and turning in my gut. The door opens as soon as I hit the top stair, my brother giving me a wide, happy smile, and that helps loosen the tension that being home always makes me feel.
“Hey, big bro,” I tell him.
“Hey, little bro,” he replies.
We embrace, and not for the first time, I think about how lucky I am to have him. How despite the bad shit in our lives, we’ve always stayed close, had each other’s backs, and never let anything get between us. It hasn’t always been easy, but I can’t remember ever not being thankful for him.
When we were kids, Cedric would help me with school. He would go over concepts I had trouble grasping, so the next time Dad would see me doing homework, he would be proud of my progress. That’s always been the kind of brother he is.
“I missed you.” He ruffles my hair like I’m a kid.
“I missed you until you did that,” I tease. “Happy birthday, Ced.”
“Thanks.”
We head inside, and the first thing my father says to me is, “You’re late.”
“Five minutes. I was here but got a phone call.”Hey, Dad. How are you? Me? Oh, I’m fine. School is going great. I missed you too.
“We have reservations,” he adds.
“Dad,” Cedric says, “we have time. We’re not going to be late.” As always, my brother tries to keep the peace. Before him, it was Mom.
Why do you hate me?
“You know how I feel about being on time. It tells me you have no respect for me.” He’s always felt that way, and while I get what he means, there’s no reason I had to come inside at five when our reservations aren’t until six and the restaurant is only fifteen minutes away.
“Sorry,” I tell him, not wanting to ruin my brother’s birthday.
“How’s school?” Cedric asks, as if the two of us don’t talk all the time. If he thinks he’s being slick, he’s not. I know he’s trying to change the subject, while also giving me a chance to talk about how well I’m doing. It took a lot of work for me to get good in school, and it’s something I’m proud of. I never thought I would be able to do it, especially something like nursing school.
“Really well. I’ve got all A’s,” I say.
“That’s awesome. Just like last year,” Cedric replies.
I try not to smile. He isn’t even subtle about it.
“You’ll have enough credits to graduate this year?” Dad asks, ignoring my accomplishment.
“Yes. The only reason I didn’t last year is because I transferred to Peach State.” Which he knows, but of course he has to have something to complain about when it comes to me.
“It would have made more sense to finish what you started without transferring.”
“I am finishing what I started!” I raise my voice. “I just wanted to spend more time with Ced.” Well, that and the fact that I had more fun at Peach State when I went to visit than I did in Atlanta. I vibe better with everyone here.
I rub a hand over my face, already wishing I could bolt. Why is it always like this?
