People often say your high school time will be the most memorable part of your life, I say that's bullshit.
If those miserable years were supposed to be the highlight of my life, I might as well suffocate myself now. If anything, I'm praying the worst is over, and my future would be nothing as bleak.
Only when you're at your lowest will there be nowhere else to go but up.
I sit with my legs crossed in the middle of my bedroom floor, in the midst of packing my stuff into bags and boxes, when two knocks on my ajar door catches my attention.
"Kelsey..." My birth giver stands at the entrance of my doorway, speaking in a hushed tone.
She dons a beautiful head of shoulder-length blonde hair with the roots beginning to turn grey. You'll never realize she's aging until you inch closer to make out the tiny wrinkles at the corners of her sky blue eyes. It's only then that I notice the slight frown in the middle of her brows.
Oh boy. I know that face.
"What's wrong, momma?" I carefully search her face for answers but it honestly only takes a split second to figure out this is definitely bad news.
"It's the apartment," my mother sighs, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed, her chin resting on the palm of her hand.
I look at her in confusion. "What? Didn't dad say it'll be ready this weekend?"
My heart starts racing as the thought of my arranged apartment going wrong hits me. I've had everything planned down to the T. This absolutely isn't the time for anything to fuck up.
The apartment has been the one thing I've looked forward most to. What else could excite a teenager more than getting out of their parents' roof? Being able to take anyone home, making your own decisions around the house, and even walk around naked if you wanted to; freedom has never tasted this close to me.
"Look, as much as I know you'll hate this idea," she pauses, to my annoyance, and sucks in a deep breath like it's just as difficult for her to say the words, "I'm afraid you'll have to crash with Wayne for awhile."
What? God, no.
"Mother!" I shriek, certain my heart stopped functioning for a millisecond. I can't breathe, my head spinning, and my vision blurring momentarily. People have all kinds of allergy. Me? I have a deathly allergy to that damn name.
Wayne.
Wayne motherfucking Owens. Also known as my ghost of a brother who's 3 years older than me.
Who I unfortunately have to enrol into the same college as because I completely ran out of options due to my embarrassing grades. As if attending the same college isn't disastrous enough, now I'm supposed to live with him under his roof?
Lucifer might as well rip me in half and send me to hell.
"Sweetie, I'm so sorry. The landlord is having trouble evicting his tenant and they're currently in negotiation for a settlement." My mother watches my face cautiously with pleading eyes, while I'm rendered speechless, too stunned to even lift a finger. "There's just no way we can get it ready for you so soon..." She goes on to say after one full minute of excruciating silence.
For a moment, it felt like when everyone once thought 2012 would be the end of the world. This feels like the end of mine.
The mere thought of seeing Wayne again makes me want to kill myself. I've been living peacefully without his existence all these while; there's no fucking way I'm sacrificing myself to the devil for the sake of a piece of paper.
I chuckle humorlessly. "So I guess this is the part where I say I'll drop college instead?"
"Oh sweetheart, don't say that." She comes over to sit by my side, cradling me in her arms like a child. "I understand your objections but this is college we're talking about. I assure you we'll find you a new place as soon as we can, alright?"
My parents have been my only pillar of strength these last few years while I was a mess, and I've promised them I was gonna get back on my feet this time. How could I have the heart to let them down again?
"How long are we talking about? I can move into a motel in the meantime. A hostel, anything, other than his house."
Had it not been for the time and effort I'd taken to pack, I would've felt better lashing out at all the taped boxes encircling me.
Talk about dashed hopes.
Starting over again in a new city had been my plan all along, but apparently life hasn't had enough with screwing me up.
My mother shakes her head disapprovingly. "No, absolutely not. You're a young woman moving to an unfamiliar state where you don't know anyone. It's too dangerous to not do any research. I'll speak to my property agent to find you an appropriate place. Hang in there for a few weeks, alright?"
Few weeks? Few. Weeks!
I was expecting more along the lines of days, one week at maximum. How hard can it be to go online and rent an apartment?
Snapping the band on my left wrist as distraction, I force down all of my disgruntlement, reminding myself of all the progress I've made to let this be the episode where my mother finally checks me into a psychiatric ward.
"Fine," I sigh, refusing to accept this without a fight. "Have you even talked to him? Surely he'll be objecting, right?"
Our hatred was very mutual, and if the mere thought of living one day with him drives me crazy, I can't imagine him ever agree.
My protest had fallen on deaf ears and he was my only hope of getting out of this; that bastard better not disappoint.
"Wayne? I've spoken to him."
"And? He said no, yeah? It's a no from me either. Momma, I'll be fineâ"
"He said yes, sweetie. There's plenty of room for you."
My eyes widen at that, wondering what the hell he could be up to. Ten bucks says there's probably going to be a decomposed corpse in there welcoming my arrival.
"He even said you can stay as long as you want. Although he won't come pick you up, he'll be home all night and you're free to show up any time."
I already hate the look of enthusiasm on my mother's face as she suggests this idiotic idea.
She has to be sugarcoating it for me, because the memory I have of my brother would've much rather let me sleep under a bridge than to say something like "stay as long as you wish".
We never got along since we were kids, and it was the best thing of my life when he finally moved out of the house three years ago. That sense of joy I felt when he emptied out his room and vanished without a trace. But when I saw the sadness in my parents' eyes, I knew they couldn't bear to let him go. He was after all their firstborn, their only son, and their favourite child.
"I wouldn't want to make the drive with him either." I grunt pettily, growing convinced that perhaps this is God's way for me to plot an epic revenge on him.
"I promise I'll mind my own business, but momma, help me out too. You know damn well I'm not going to be happy there, but I'll do this for you. Please just find me a place as soon as possible, I'm not choosy, I swear."
She smiles and heaves a sigh of relief, patting gently on my back like she always does.
I've brought enough worries and troubles to my mom. I reckon this is the least I should do for her, to repay all that she's done for me ever since I became a wreck not so long ago.
Here's to hoping my mother wouldn't wake up to find out from the headlines tomorrow that one of her offsprings is dead.
âââ
My motivation to pack has dwindled ever since being told of the bad news, and many times I found myself dying to back out and tell my mom I'd get a job at McDonald's instead, not that I actually really would.
Wary of the danger awaiting me, I had unboxed all of the sentimental items I couldn't bear to lose and reduced the necessities I'd planned to bring, just in case history repeats itself.
Four years.
Four years of college will begin and my life will depend on two suitcases and three boxes. I can't help but worry if I am truly ready to start afresh from square one when I realize how much it is I'm leaving behind.
In the two-hour drive to Boston, I have already come up with a dozen different scenario I imagine I need to look out for if I didn't want to be sent back to my parents in a coffin.
I sighed, wishing I had the ability to read my own fate to save myself the trouble. I suppose I should expect something along the lines of my car being egged or being made to camp in the back garden.
Three years aren't insignificant, but to presume he could've possibly matured a little over the years would be laughable.
The journey's almost torturous as it just struck my mind that since I don't have a key, that means I'll actually have to greet the bastard to be invited in instead of slipping in unnoticed like I had hoped.
I couldn't even stand to be around when he came home during the holidays in the past. How on earth am I ever gonna pull this off and make it through the front door?
The dread I'm feeling intensifies as I turn into the street where the two-storey house is, parking on the side of the road as I remain in the comfort of my car for a good few minutes, observing the target like I'm some sort of spy looking for ways to infiltrate an underground operation.
Decked in a dull shade of aluminium grey vinyl cladding, the conventional property looks innocuous enough as all the neighbouring houses do, but knowing who lives in it, it's natural I treat this place as the nether regions instead.
With only a single driveway leading up to the entrance and no fences bordering the structure, there isn't a single bush nor pillar I could attempt to hide behind had I been a thief who wanted to steal the packages at their door, needless to say break into the house uncaught.
Granted, nobody seemed to be home since the lights were off and blinds shuttered despite it being eight o'clock in the evening. I could probably enter by picking the lock with my handy bobby pin if I tried hard enough, except with my shit luck, the neighbours opposite would very likely catch me sneaking and call the cops on me.
Is going out despite knowing I was arriving the first stunt he was pulling? I won't even pretend to be surprised if he did. But there's also a white Range Rover parked in the driveway. Don't tell me he's already asleep?
What now?
I slump against my seat, rubbing a palm across my face in indignation. I suppose the logical thing to do is to ring the doorbell like a normal person, but I'm anxious just thinking about what could happen.
I imagine he's gonna look through the peephole and snicker, probably with a tub of cold water, ice or even faeces ready to dump on me.
He could also open the door nonchalantly and stand there expecting me to converse with him, and I honestly can't imagine which is worse.
With a heavy breath, I lower my windows and light up a cigeratte, pondering what terrible sin I must've commited in my previous life to be banished here as retribution.
âââ (edit)
Twenty minutes may have passed before I eventually pluck out my car keys and drag my feet to the front door. I can do this, I can so do this. Just press the doorbell, step back and wait. For safety measures, take three more steps back.
Within three seconds, the black, sturdy steel door unlocks and flings open. There stands a stranger whom I've never met. Almost as tall as the door, broad-chested with comb-back chocolate brown hair that slants to the right; it's obvious this guy must be some sort of an athlete.
Did I get the wrong address?
"Hey you, alluring little witch sent to my doorstep. How may I help you?"
I haven't heard the word 'witch' ever used as praise. The jocky-looking dude grins lop-sidedly at me with a raised brow, completely checking me out.
I clear my throat. "Is there a Wayne here?" I ask without looking him in the face. His bulky figure blocks the door way entirely and I couldn't look into the house.
Great. That dickhead probably sent me on a goose chase, giving me a bogey address. Is his only purpose in life just to torture me? Haven't a 22-year-old have better things to do than play stupid pranks on his DNA tested biological sister? Because believe me when I say I plucked a strand of hair from his head and matched it with mine once, only to be told that 'yes, you are in fact 100% blood related.'
"Wayne! There's a hot chick asking for you!" The dude yells over his shoulder.
Fuck. So it is the right house, he didn't play me. I don't know whether to be relieved. Why didn't he just tell mom no and the both of us could've been freed from any forms of interaction until one of us died?
Some shuffling can be heard as the dude at the door and I stand awkwardly opposite each other. I put on a bored expression, trying my best to act as nonchalant as possible. This guy wasn't rude, but you never know who's a spy among the enemy, right? If he even so much as tell my brother I seem nervous, I'd be dead by tomorrow.
"Who is it?" I hear him question, the sickening voice I haven't heard in years speaking as he nears the door. A tinge of blond hair appears first before his head pops up behind the stranger's shoulder. My eyes can't help itself but roll the hardest to the back of my head.
Hello, Satan.
His brows raise so high it nearly reaches his hairline. "This is weird." He says, nudging his friend aside so his whole frame comes into view. "You kind of look like my sister."
My lips twitch. "That's because I am your sister, retard."
He laughs as if I just told him a funny joke. "Nice try, you almost got me there! Now, don't take offence, kitten. You're pretty but you remind me of my sister." He visibly shudders. "And I don't do incest."
Un-fucking-believable! I can't even tell if he's being serious or pulling my leg because he actually did look confused.
"Eh, that's okay. I don't have a sister." His friend chips in at his side, smirking.
My hands automatically turn into fists. Awesome! Drove for two hours just so my brother can find satisfaction in making me the clown of his circus.
I immediately whirl around, taking large strides to my car.
"Babe! Don't leave!" Stranger calls out, but I ignore him, desperately rummaging through my purse for my ID.
Wayne stares at it for a good ten seconds, inspecting it in all angles. "Heck. I didn't know they make such high quality replicas now."
I glare at him with murderous intent in my eyes. I'm already tired from the journey, my stomach growling. "Now you're just being fucking annoying." I say in a sharp tone, no longer wanting to deal with his stupid jokes.
"Did you just say the F word? Aha! That goody-two-shoes doesn't ever curse!" He dares to say, sporting a smug look that's just itching for me to throw a punch.
"Oh, I do more than curse now." I challenge him. "Your birthday's a day after April's Fool, your blood type's O+ and you have a lime-sized birthmark on your left buttcheek."
Knowing your enemy's information is always handy, right?
His friend chuckles, dropping an arm over my brother's shoulder but the latter shoves it off. "You do?"
Wayne furrows his brows. "Well, those aren't private information. One of your girlfriends could've seen me naked and told you that."
"Fine." I jerk my chin at him, crossing my arms. "You tried to sneak a Junior girl into your bedroom through your window when you were a freshman but it didn't work, she was too heavy to climb up the pipes."
Wayne widens his eyes.
"That's right. I saw that! Oh, let me think. What else?" I pretend to tap a finger on my lips. "You were nine when you first kissed the girl with two hideous pigtails who lived two houses down from us and when she called you disgusting, you told her 'fine, that didn't count'."
"You gotta be kidding me!" My brother opens and closes his mouth like a fish. "I don't know what's more shocking. The fact that you're seriously Kelsey or the fact that you know and remember all these things!" He looks flabbergasted, messing up his hair with his hand.
Suck it, dirtbag. This time I'm playing to win.
It's his friend who recovers first while Wayne stands there gaping at me like an idiot. "Come in, come in! The name's Drew, I'm your brother's ride-or-die." He wraps his hand around my shoulder, guiding me through the door. "Kelsey, right? Damn! I knew I like you when I first saw you."
Funny. I was expecting to feel a wave of dread. Yet, I can't help the goofy grin creeping up my face.
Hmm, I thought, as I scan through the interior of the house. My parents really do like this fucker way too much. I was expecting this place to look like a slum, instead it's not only clean; it's also tastefully renovated in a minimalist theme. Every piece of furniture is specifically picked to fit the colour scheme.
What stands out the most to me is the mezzanine floor, connected by a rail-less contemporary staircase just on the left of the entrance. You can easily glance up to see four wood-panel doorsâwhich I assume are the bedroomsâthrough the metallic mezzanine barriers.
Hell. No wonder that Satan left me alone all those years that he left home. If I had this house to myself, I'd forget about ever having a sibling either.
"Nice... place." I comment awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. I don't expect him to give me a tour, but seeing as I'm supposedly going to live here for a few weeks, I probably should find out where I'll be sleeping in.
"Ahh, yeah, about that," my brother finally moves from his spot at the front door. "Zac, you'll bunk with your brother. Cool?"
That's when I realize there're two other human beings in the house.
"Yeah, 'course." The one my brother called Zac replies, holding a PS4 controller in his hand as he sits on the rug right in front of a large wall-mounted TV. Another dude wearing an oversized pair of framed spectacles sits next to him, totally engrossed in the game.
I pay the both of them no mind. I am only here to stay temporarily. There's no reason for me to talk to any of my brother's friends. Yet I can't help but be curious.
"Do you live here?" I ask Drew, who's been standing beside me all along.
God, I only hope this isn't some kind of a fraternity house.
"I'll definitely be here often enough now that you're here." He winks playfully, not at all reeling in the flirting.
I roll my eyes at him. Now knowing I won't be living alone with my brother makes me feel much better. Hell, at this point, maybe even if his side pieces come over daily would be way better than having to stay in the same room with just him.
"So which is it going to be?" I ask again. There isn't names carved on the door. Did they expect me to be psychic?
"That one." Drew points to the second door from the stairs. "And mine's just to your right." He winks again.
"One more word, Drew, so help me God." Wayne chimes in, much to my irritation.
Not wanting to interact with him any further, I return to my car to start unloading my boxes. I haven't had the time to plan what it's going to be like, but I suppose I expect myself to be locked up in the room minding my own business. Just because we live under the same roof doesn't mean that we have to interact, right? I'm even leaning slightly towards a truce if he'll leave me alone too. That way, before we know it, I'll be out of his hair in a blink of an eye. Win-win.
"You drove here alone?" Wayne stands at the driveway watching as I move around. Lord, I was just praying for him to stay invisible and he had to open his mouth.
I fake a gasp, can't help it with the sarcasm. "Don't you see my friend? She's just behind you."
"Ha-ha. I see you've developed a sense of humour."
Eye-roll. "No need for small talk, Wayne."
He raises a brow. "I was just asking. Two-hour is a long drive."
"Don't I know that? Lucky me. My brother was too busy playing video games with his friends; thank God I didn't have to be trapped in a car with him for two miserable hours."
Damn it. I know I'm being awfully rude despite just arriving but I simply cannot hold my tongue back. Just the mere sight of his face... ugh.
Although it's been four years, he still looks every inch the same as he did before other than a tiny change in his hairstyle. I know that face from the back of my head; it used to haunt me in my dreams.
"Okay. I guess I deserve that." He sighs, then straightens up and heads toward me.
"What do you want?" I eye him suspiciously as he picks up one of my boxes from the ground. I sure as hell won't hesitate now if he tries anything funny. My being here is a huge statementâI'm no longer that fool he gets to push around anymore.
"Helping." He says, already turning to walk back into the house. "You'll make lesser trips this way."
I scoff out loud, waiting for him to return to speak. "You might as give it to me now that I'm here. Get it done and over with."
"What?"
"Your tricks. Your scheming. Don't you at least have one thing you're dying to do to me?"
It's his turn to roll his eyes. "How old do you take me for, Kel? I can't believe you're still harping on the past."
That triggered me. I harshly slam the door of my car boot down even though there's still two more suitcases in there. God, I need to break something.
"You were just now pretending like you didn't know me!" I remind him.
"Oh, hell. That wasn't a trick. I seriously didn't recognize you! I mean, you look completely different from when I last saw you. Do you blame me?"
All thanks to him for calling me names, making fun of my once nerdy look; I grew up and discovered an amazing invention called make-up.
"I think you mean to say you expected me to still be that dumb, old Kelsey you could insult just to boost your pathetic self-esteem." I glare at him, daring him to deny it.
No. I refuse to believe that horrible person he once was can turn over a new leaf. Leopard never changes its fucking spot. He's only waiting for a perfect time to get me again. I'll be ready for it this time.
"Christ." He looks at me, stunned by my outburst. "You really hate me."