Trent is alone on the couch. The TV turned on. But his eyes are glazed over and his mind clearly elsewhere.
Looks like we had the same idea.
“Hey, bro,” I say, dropping my wallet and keys on the table. “How’s it going?”
He changes the channel.
“Did you uh, do anything with Karli tonight?” I ask, unable to help myself from prying.
He blinks as if he just realized I was here. “Yeah. I asked her to marry me.”
Hearing him admit it out loud throws me. “Whoa.”
“Yeah, I didn't plan to.” He rubs his beard thoughtfully. “It just kind of happened. I’m not even sure I realized the words were coming out of my mouth until they did. I love her so much.”
“So… you’re getting married,” I say. I’m not sure if he’s in a happy or mopey mood. Do I throw a party or let him throw the coffee table?
“Yeah, I think. She just needs some time. Everything in her past freaks her out. Not having a place to stay after we’re married, the security… It's a lot.” He shakes his head and pushes off the couch. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. The only person you care about is yourself. You wouldn’t understand.”
Ouch.
“I get it. You’re still mad at me.” I step out of his way as he stalks toward the kitchen. He’s not in a mopey mood, this is much worse. This is fighting Trent. The one who would come out before we took literal punches at each other.
“It’s not that hard when all you’ve done lately is mess things up.” He opens the fridge, takes out a water bottle, and slams it again.
This feels exactly like a conversation we had two weeks ago when I tried to get him to come to Vegas with me.
Honestly, it’s getting old. I’m so tired of hearing I suck. I’m trying here. And yeah, I’m not perfect, but he’s no saint.
I fold my arms across my chest and, for possibly only the second time in my life, I’m actually upset with my brother. The one person who used to understand me when no one else did. When did he stop?
I thought going to Vegas would fix that. But it didn’t. It just gave him Karli. Now he’s going to marry her, and he’s going to leave work. Are we going to become holiday siblings who only see each other when they are forced to? No. I can’t stand that thought.
I clench my jaw until it ticks. “Everyone thinks I purposely make mistakes, but believe it or not, some mistakes are just that. I know I act before I think, but you are my brother, so no matter how much you hate me, I’d do anything for you.”
“Like drug me? Did I not thank you for that one?” His hands are clenched at his side.
I shove my hands in my pockets. “Maybe you should; it seemed to work well for you.”
“People don’t want to be played with, Sean.” He tosses his now empty water bottle at me and I catch it easily.
“I didn’t take you with me as a joke.” I did it because I could feel us slipping apart and it scared me. I’ve never been without my twin brother. “If you can’t stick with me, who else would want to?”
And that right there is the most vulnerable thing I’ve ever said in my life. And it hurts even more that it’s true.
Trent frowns but says nothing.
“Nice talking to you, bro. 'Night.” I head for my room and shut the door. I send London a text asking how her grandma is, but no response comes before I fall asleep.
***
The only thing that sucks about working with family is working with family when I’m trying to avoid them. I managed it for two hours. That is until break, when every single one of them came into the break room at the same time.
“Hey,” Grant claps me on the shoulder.
I nod in greeting while continuing to scarf down my terrible PB&J. Does peanut butter expire? Or did I use Trent’s disgusting nut-free butter again?
Grant sits across from me, watching me eat for a solid minute.
