9

"but all the boys, they crowd around."

Joshua

The dining room felt like a battlefield of unease. The only sound puncturing the tense air was the clinking of cutlery against plates. My mom and Ms. Whitlock were the only ones making conversation until their conversation stumbled. I ate another forkful of food to distract myself.

"So, Sawyer." My mom said. "I heard you're hoping to be a painter."

"That's the plan." She said before blushing.

"She'd have to let people see it for that to happen." Noah chimed in.

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

Ms. Whitlock cleared her throat.

"Can you both behave?"

My mom laughed that infectious laugh of hers. The one that made you laugh, too.

"I'm glad it's not just my kids."

My dad snorted.

"Some more than others."

Asher dropped his fork. The outrageous clink it made didn't crack the plate, which surprised me.

"Was that aimed at me?"

Their eyes narrowed as tension crackled in the air.

"If the shoe fits."

My mom and Ms. Whitlock exchanged looks. I'm certain my mom had brought up the sudden tension between Asher and my father to her oldest friend, but now she's witnessed it.

"Asher's grades have been slipping lately." My mom said.

He hit the palms of his hand on the table. Gracie jumped beside me.

"Let's report it to the local news too, Mom."

"Sawyer used to tutor back home." Her mom said. "I'm sure she'd be so glad to help."

She choked on her mashed potatoes.

"I would?"

Asher put his hand on his heart as he looked at Sawyer.

"You'd do that for me?" He said with artificial kindness. "You're a sweetheart."

"Asher, that's enough." Mom said.

"I couldn't agree more." He said, glaring at her.

His chair moved back with a screech. The floor bore the weight of his frustration as the resounding thuds of his stomping feet echoed his internal anger.

Noah's eyes darted around, seeking shelter from the stifling silence.

"This dinner is delicious, Mrs. Hart."

I placed my hand over my mouth to stifle my laughter, but my moving shoulders gave me away.

"Thank you, Noah."

It's safe to say dinner was over after the awkward interactions, so I gestured to Noah to follow me outside. I walked past Sawyer and placed my hand on her shoulder. I leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Want to join us outside?"

She pressed her lips together in a tense grin.

"No, thank you."

I led Noah to the makeshift basketball court we made out back. I dribbled the ball before tossing it to him. He caught it with ease.

"You play?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"A little."

We filled the next hour with rhythmic thumps as the ball danced back and forth, along with our trash-talking. Every time I would score, I would rub it in his face and vice versa.

A window opening caught our attention. We lifted our heads. Asher had already set his eyes on us. He put his finger to his lips, motioning for us to be quiet. Carefully, he descended the vines. He knew exactly where to position his feet and landed on the ground with catlike agility before running his hands down his jacket. He was a walking representation of arrogance as he strutted towards us, making us feel privileged to be in his presence. The way he carried himself was as if we owed him our admiration.

"Are any of you interested in attending a party?"

I folded my arms.

"It's a Wednesday."

"Thank you for the daily report."

"We're good, thanks." Noah said.

Asher reached for the pack of cigarettes in his back pocket and placed one between his lips.

"Suit yourselves." He said and raised his chin. "See you later, little brother."

My fists clenched at my sides. I hated it when he called me that. He loved testing my patience.

Ten minutes. That's the age gap between us, but he made it seem like ten years.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Noah said. "Your brother is a jerk."

I clenched my jaw as my eyes followed his retreating figure until he was out of sight.

"He never used to be."

??

The dim moonlight trickled through the kitchen windows, casting enlarged shadows across the floor and countertops. The tiled floors were cool to the touch under my bare feet. I needed water.

An unexpected jolt coursed through my veins as a figure was sitting at the counter. There was a bowl of cereal in front of him. His spoon was halfway to his mouth when he paused at the sound of my gasp.

"You should have seen your face."

I opened the refrigerator. The light beamed at him, allowing me to see his flushed face and half-opened eyes.

"When did you get home?"

"Ten minutes ago."

I wasn't surprised because his bedroom was next to mine, and as a light sleeper, he often woke me up in the early hours of the morning.

He stood up to put his bowl in the sink, but in his drunken stupor, his foot hooked on the leg of his chair. My instincts kicked in and I dove for the cereal bowl and let him fall to the floor with a thud. His body would make less of a noise than shattered glass. My decision was justified.

"Ow." he said, rolling himself into a ball on the floor.

"Get up, Asher."

"No."

The fall did nothing to sober him up. I debated leaving him there, but despite our differences, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I lifted him and wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

His movements were unsteady, which worsened as we ascended the steps. It's as if the steps were as unpredictable as the waves in the ocean. Despite his entire body weight being shoved against my side, I powered through and got him into his room. I launched him onto the bed. The mattress bounced for a moment as if it were a trampoline before it steadied. He rolled onto his back and groaned.

"Thanks."

"Too bad you won't remember this in the morning." I said, backing away to his door. "You never do."

??