Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
“Do you want to go for a ride to the water tower?” I ask him, wanting to get him alone so I can at the very least try and talk some sense into him.
Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he nods and immediately grabs his jacket which was slung over the back of his chair.
We head out, making the long walk to Kane’s where I keep my bike. For the most part we don’t talk, he texts on his phone and smokes three cigarettes which is an insane amount for any journey. I don my gear and give him a spare helmet. I know West won’t mind it.
“Let me drive,” my brother demands but I pull my keys away.
“Not while you’re under the influence.”
Grumbling, he waits for me to climb on and slides on behind me. He pinches my bicep and laughs hysterically. “Don’t know how you turn this thing with your chicken arms.”
“Fuck you,” I reply, my voice muffled through the visor. “My biceps are like stone. I could lift you above my head.”
A complete lie. I’m strong but not that strong.
The engine purrs and my brother spreads out his arms when we pick up speed. I go faster and faster, overtaking cars on the long and dusty road. For a moment in time I feel like everything is normal again and my brother is normal. But then we pull over and he stumbles off my bike, pulls a baggy of pills out of his pocket and pops one on his tongue.
“Want one?” he asks, chewing the thing in his mouth.
I cringe and look away. “You really need that? Can’t we just enjoy the moment without the high?”
“Need it,” he mutters, kicking at the long grass. “Need a lot of shit to help me get through the day.”
“You need to deal with life without those. You’re hurting yourself.”
“Did you come out here just to tell me off?”
I look away, unable to witness the change in his body and the way he talks now. My brother is no longer a man but a waif and it’s terrifying to see. “We could run away,” I suggest like I used to. Because once upon a time my twin was my best friend and we faced the world together. “We could get the fuck out of here, go to Austin, get a place together. Go to college…”
“I’m going to fucking jail!”
“That’s if they find you.”
At that he laughs and shoves the baggy back into his pocket. “You’d do that for me?”
“Yes.” I don’t even hesitate with my reply and I mean it with my whole heart. I love Matthew, he’s my brother and I just want him to get better.
“I’d do it for you too but running away ain’t gonna solve this. I fucked up.”
“You’re still fucking up.” I point to his pocket where the bag of pills resides.
“They’re antacids.”
“Yeah and I’m aunt stupid,” I remark sarcastically making him laugh again. We settle, heavy and full of remorse for entirely different things. “I’m so sorry you’re not coping Matthew.”
“I’m sorry I ratted you out to Mee-maw.”
“Yeah, that was fucked up.”
“I’ll steal you a pregnancy test to make it up to you.”
Like when we were kids we head towards the main street, giggling amongst ourselves. Matthew heads into the pharmacy and I follow behind. I talk to the lady behind the counter about heartburn while Matthew peruses the sexual health section. Antacids were the first thing that came to mind after our conversation.
Unfortunately the lady is a talker and I don’t leave until five minutes after Matthew and to say I’m desperate to know what my current condition is would be an understatement.
He pats his jacket to let me know it’s in his pocket and we head to a burger joint on the corner. I hand him ten dollars to get us something to eat and I scarper into the restroom with the test in hand.
I don’t know how to use it. It looks easy on TV but I’m scared I’ll do it wrong. My heart is hammering in my chest and I don’t feel good at all. I don’t know why I wasted money on getting food because I doubt I’ll be able to eat after this.
I pee on the end of the stick after removing the cap and stuff it into my pocket. It says four minutes and I don’t have that kind of time, so I wash my hands and discard the box after burning the results section to memory. Plus means baby, minus means none. Simple and easy.
If only this situation was simple and easy.
“How’d it go?” Matthew asks when I approach the table and pluck a fry out of the little basket. It tastes salty but also bland. Kind of like my mood.
“I don’t know, I have to wait a few minutes.”