11. Brayden

Chapter eleven

Brayden

" W hat the fuck is going on with you?" I stare down at Bexley, who lies on the bed staring blankly up at the ceiling.

"Bexley," I snap. His eyes meet mine.

"What?" he sighs, his feet crossed at his ankles. He likely doesn't have much reaction after the joint he smoked to calm his nerves after the police being here. This is the second time this week shit has gone down with Bexley.

"This is the second time the police have been here. I thought it was a fucking ambulance." I run my fingers through my hair for the fourth time in the past minute. I walk back and forth across the short width of our small room while he lies motionless.

"You don't need to come here every time I fuck up, Bray. It's not your problem." He mutters and then sighs, giving off exhaustion and disinterest toward everything and everyone.

"Yes, I do. You're my brother, Bex. Is there a part of you being my brother, my fucking twin, the person I'd risk everything for, that you fail to comprehend? Fuck!" I throw myself onto the end of the bed, slouching with my elbows on my knees and my knuckles pressed against my chin. "What happened?" I sigh, too tired to fight with Bexley.

"Why don't you tell me what happened at the game yesterday?" he swerves my question with a question. Something Bexley is good at, no matter how high he is.

"It doesn't matter." I mumble as I stare at a picture of Bex and me pinned to the wall. We stumbled upon ten dollars at the fun fair when we were ten. Instead of using it for rides or sweets, we used it to get a cartoon sketch of ourselves in the picture booth. Both of us are captured on camera, Bexley laughing with closed eyes and me smiling. Right before the picture, I let out a fart and Bexley couldn't stop laughing. I miss those days. Even though we hate being in the trailer with Mom and we never knew if we would get fed or not, it didn't matter. We had each other. That was enough to keep a smile on our faces.

"Bray, you're lucky your teammates were there to pull you off. It could have ended a lot worse." I notice the bed shifting and I glance over to find him sitting up. I lock eyes with him, his bloodshot hazy blue swirls meet mine. "What did that guy on the ice say to make you react that way?"

I gesture by shaking my head, locking eyes with you briefly, and then redirect my attention to the picture.

"It doesn't matter," I whisper. Wanting to forget about Mackey and every bad thing in our life. It seems Bexley gets the message that I'm not interested in discussing it. He gently nods his head.

"You were amazing out there, Bray." Bex moves next to me on the bed, his knee knocking mine as he sits next to me, both of our bodies taking up the small bed. "I missed watching you play." I shift my eyes to Bexley's face and find him fixated on the Pinboard picture. He doesn't look at me. Seeing him fixate on the picture of us, I instinctively turn my head and do the same. If we shut our eyes, even for a moment, we might be transported back there.

"The OG Quake." He inwardly laughs. "I don't think you realize the buzz it gives people watching you."

"Maybe if you keep watching me, that buzz will be enough, and you won't have to go searching for other things to give you a buzz. I would play for you every minute of the day if that were the case." I blurt it out without a second thought, instantly draining all the joy from Bexley. It feels as if a dark cloud has suddenly engulfed both of us. The black cloud is constantly lurking in the shadows, prepared to show up.

"I wish it would be enough too," he sighs. He is aware of his addiction, but rarely acknowledges or discusses it. This is the closest I think I've ever come. We remain silent and content, our eyes fixed on the picture. I wish I knew what was going through his mind. Does he miss the old days? Does he wish to go back to those days? I want to ask him, but he hates me talking about our childhoods. They weren't great, but they weren't always bad. But I guess for him they were worse. He will get all twitchy and walk out of the trailer. He's right next to me, our knees touching. It's been a while since we've been this close. And if it means I can have him with me a little longer, even if we don't say a word, I'll cherish it.

"Who was the guy that brought you here today?"

"My teacher. While I was at the gym, I received a call and—"

"Call? Who called you?" Bexley interrupts me, before I can continue.

"Oh, I uh don't know. I was too worried about questioning it. It has to be someone in the park, right?" Bexley nods, his lips pressed together, as he turns to face the bed and stares at the floor.

"Your teacher, is he cool?" With a frown, Bexley studies the floor, likely pondering if Mr. Stiles will bring up today's events at my school. I mean probably, yeah. What teacher wouldn't? I've been too worried about Bex. Per usual, I didn't think about how this will affect me.

I shrug. "I mean, Karl attempted to beat the shit out of him and failed." I smile a little. Seeing that guy have his ass handed to him has got to be number one on my wish list. That mental image of him lying on the floor will stay with me forever. "Maybe he might think it will affect his job, so he might say nothing. I will have to see what happens when I get to school tomorrow." I frown at the floor, taking another deep gulp of air. The familiar tightness in my chest emerges as I discreetly dig my nails into my wrists. The pain doesn't bother me; it distracts me from my racing heart and the sweat on my neck. The feeling of having a weight sitting on my chest slowly eases as I drop my head and close my eyes.

"Something tells me your teacher will be cool tomorrow," Bexley mumbles. He doesn't know him and neither do I, but it's not something I'm going to worry about now.

Our peaceful silence is abruptly interrupted by a phone notification, snapping us back to reality. Bexley shifts beside me, and I prepare myself with a deep inhale. I already know what's coming. Bexley rises beside me.

"Bye," I grunt, already knowing he's leaving, no doubt to get more drugs or sell them. Why can't he love me more than the drugs? Why can't he put me before the drugs? "You know what, no." I stand, coming face-to-face with my brother. His empty chilling eyes stare back at me, void of any emotion. "You're here with me. Why can't you chill with me for longer? Why do you have to run to that fucking prick Karl that has ruined our fucking life, Bexley?" My voice gets louder. "I'm fucking here. Stay here." I point to the floor and puff my chest out. Why? I don't know, but I'm mad. I'm so fucking mad right now. Every time that piece of shit rings or messages, Bexley goes running. When Bexley began selling drugs for that piece of shit, he essentially made a deal with the devil, and we all know the consequences of such a deal.

You never get it back.

Bexley pulls me closer, wrapping one arm around my shoulder and the other around my back. As he pulls me closer, I can't resist sinking into his arms. I nestle my face into his shoulder and squeeze him tightly. I can still smell my brother. He's still somewhere inside, deeply buried.

"Do me a favor. When people want to help you, don't shut them out or push them away." Bex's mellow voice makes me want to cry. I hate feeling weak, but the only person I would ever allow to see me crumble would be Bex.

"Letting people in hurts."

"Hey," Bex pulls back, his eyebrows draw down as a frown mars his face. "What makes you say that?" My eyes flicker between his, taking in this moment. Bex has always appeared to have a superhero complex in my eyes. He protected me and wanted nothing but good things for me. Until the drugs took over. I can't ever think of the good days without the bad days. He doesn't realize it, but he is the only person I've ever really let in. Kal is my best friend and I love him for everything he has done and continues to do, but no one is Bex. No one shares the connection we have. It's not something that can be explained. I let Bex in the day I was born, but along the way he left me. He left me on my own in a pitch-black room and I still haven't worked out how to get out. My silence must speak a thousand words as Bex palms my face, squishing my cheeks together while smiling.

"Are you heading to Brewtap later?" He releases my cheeks and puts his hands in his pockets. I frown but quickly mask it. I didn't even know Bex knew we went there. Brewtap is a bar near campus, but Tray, being the dodgy fucker he is, hooked us up with fake IDs. I'm pretty sure every single bar staff in there knows they're fake, but they say nothing. To be honest, half the fucking bar is filled with underage people.

"Yeah . . . " I drag it out. Wondering why he's asking. "I usually meet Tray and Kal there for a few." Bex nods, zipping up his sweater.

"Cool, I was thinking of stopping by tonight. I got ID." He grins wide, and it seems as though the air has been knocked out of me. I can't tell you how long it's been since I've seen Bexley appear this happy. And he wants to go meet me for a drink and spend time with me, Tray and Kal. The boys are going to be so happy. I nod eagerly, my grin matching his, no doubt bigger because of how happy I feel right now.

"Yeah, yeah. You can come whenever you want. We usually arrive around 7, but if you want to arrive earlier, drop me a text me and I'll be there at any time." I rush out and Bex smiles, but the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes as it did last time. His eyebrows furrow briefly before he quickly composed himself, but I caught it. The guilt at how excited I am right now. He doesn't realize how long I've waited for this moment.

"Sweet. I'll catch you later, Bro. I'll be there at seven." He nods, walking backward out of our room.

"Yeah, see you later." I shout through the trailer when I hear the trailer door open and slam. I let myself sink onto the bed, lying back and grinning at the ceiling. I pull my phone out of my pocket and hastily open my group chat with Tray and Kal.

Me:

Bex is meeting us at the pub tonight :D.

Kal:

Sweet will be good to see him.

Monster dick:

Cool.

Me:

Tray, stop changing your name on my phone.

Kal:

What's it say this time? Nothing can be as bad as anal destroyer

Me:

*Screenshot of chat*

Kal:

Pft, he wishes.

I can see Tray has read the messages, but he doesn't reply. Tray wouldn't ever give up a conversation about his dick, but I know why it is. It's Bex. Something went wrong between Tray and Bex when we were younger. They got close as we grew, but then Bex changed, and Tray held onto Bex. We all did, but then Tray realized Bex wouldn't change for no one and I think Tray thought he might for him. It crushed him when he realized that wasn't the case. Trayton stopped coming to mine after long, I think seeing Bex the way he was hurt him too much. Tray never shared the details with me or Kal, and whenever I brought it up to Bex, he acted clueless. Bex overlooks the fact that he and I are essentially the same. Neither of us has ever been good at lying. Hopefully, they can handle whatever the problem is tonight.

With a burst of energy, I spring up and find myself walking with a bounce in my step. I have a lot of shit to deal with tomorrow, but that's tomorrow's problem.

Tonight may be the beginning of getting my brother back.