Jack. Sitting on the sand. Floor level. Oh my god, I’m both really happy and incredibly worried. I can’t lift him up from ground level! I run and work out to stay in shape and help him as much as I can, but from ground level? No, I might hurt him and hurt myself if I try to lift him back up.
I trade my leggings for an old pair of denim shorts, my white tee for an oversized black one that I crop with a knot on the side and head back downstairs, tucking my phone in my back pocket.
I take the stairs that lead from the deck to the sand and walk slowly towards where my brother and his new friends are sitting. When I’m close enough to hear them, my heart constricts a little.
He’s laughing.
All the ones I’ve heard the past years now seem forced to me.
He’s laughing every time the water touches his toes. But it’s not hisusual laugh. This laugh feels real. This laugh feels like before, when we were kids and he was not—not in that much pain.
“Hey there,” I say softly and they all turn to greet me with smiles.
Jack’s long blond hair is tied in a messy bun and he beams at me, the smile reaching his deep green eyes, and my chest tightens a little more.
When people don’t know about our family situation, they usually stare at us for a while, trying to look for resemblance. It was even worse before, with our other siblings. Five children, all adopted, not a single one blood related to another.
Jack is fair skinned, with beautiful bright green eyes and blond hair. Freckles dot his face and arms, and he says his beard makes him itchy so he shaves every day. His nose is slightly crooked since he broke it as a preteen—sneezing into a table is apparently really painful—but he has the kind of delicate face that makes people sometimes mistake him for a girl.
Our oldest brother, Tham, 37 years old, is Vietnamese. Then, there is Amy, 35, with really pale skin and ginger hair, and finally Naveen, 34, adopted from Sri Lanka.
Jack was adopted fourth and is now 31, and they waited a little longer before adopting me last. As the youngest, it was always hard for me to connect with all of them—especially Tham, ten years my senior, who basically ignored me for most of my childhood.
They all look so unique that I’ve always felt a little left out. Bland. Dull. I don’t have Tham’s beautiful Asian eye shape, or Amy’s beautiful thick ginger hair, or Naveen’s hypnotizing dark skin and bright smile. I’m just my old boring self. Brown hair that never knows whether to be wavy or straight, muddy brown eyes that always betray my thoughts and feelings, olive skin that can as easily tan or burn. I’m an old bookcase. I don’t stand out so people don’t notice me, but when they do, they always have something to complain about. Too tall or too short—the curse of the average—, too chubby—what can I do if my waist is tiny but my hips and stupid ass need a size up?—, too loud, too quiet… I’m just always too much or not enough. Like an old bookcase. You don’t see it until you have a problem with it, because it takes too much space and you need to change it for something smaller because you don’t even read anymore, or it’s too small and you need to upgrade it with a bigger and better one.
And I don’t care, really. I’ve always been fine with it. Because not being seen means I can watch and see people. I can’t see them as well when they see me.
Like Jack, for example. He’s always seen me, and I can’t see him. He hides everything from my watchful eyes, and now, seeing him laughing like this when he was not seeing me, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve been blind for a while. Blind to his pain. Blind to his loneliness. I wish he could tell me all those things he hides. I could help him more, be the support he actually needs.
I hate feeling this useless.
“Prue! I’m glad you made it!” He lifts his hand to grab my wrist and pulls me down to sit on the sand with them. “So, this is Evie,” he points to her and she gives me a kind smile. Her skin is the color of milk chocolate, her eyes a beautiful hazel and her long curly dark hair is tied up in a bun on top of her hair. “And this is Ikram,” he looks a little more reserved but his dark eyes are soft. He has an obvious Arabic heritage and he’s starkly handsome. He’s kind of Jack’s type, actually.
“Hi,” I smile back at them. “I’m Prudence, Jack’s sister.”
“We know! It must have been a long drive from Seattle.”
“It was fine. The hotel I stayed in last night was amazing, so when I took the road again this morning, I was as relaxed as a kitten.”
“So, you used the spa?” Jack wiggles his eyebrows at me with a smirk. “Was there any full-body massages involved?”
My eyes go wide as I throw quick glances towards Evie and Ikram, who are, I realize, not running away screaming at that inappropriate comment.
“What?” I cringe. “No, there was not! I just used the hot tub and got my feet rubbed by an old woman.”
“Oh. You mean that what happens in porn is not real?” he gasps dramatically.
“Jack!” I slam my hands on my face. “For fuck sakes…”
Evie lets out a chuckle while Ikram shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
“Don’t worry sweetheart,” Evie says with a wink. “Our friend warned us about your brother.”
“Warned you?” Jack scoffs. “About my amazing personality? My hysterical sense of humor? My incredibly good looks?”
“Yeah… All of the above,” Evie laughs again.
Warned them? Who is their friend? And why would he warn them? Does he know Jack? Wait…
