Reluctance (The Exchange #2) (2 page)

December 2011

So,
Mizz
. Jones read that last entry out loud yesterday at our meeting. I felt like such an idiot when she asked me why I passed out. It wasn’t as dramatic as it sounded, because it wasn’t like I collapsed and fell off my chair, more like I blacked out and slid from the seat. It was hard to explain to her, hard to explain to anyone, really.

I remember hearing Jessie’s words, then feeling like I was surrounded by a dense fog. I could hear Jessie’s voice, an edge of panic to it, calling my name. According to her my skin went gray and I kind of slumped out of my seat. I never asked her why she didn’t help me after. I was only out for a minute, but she stayed in her chair the entire time. I never spoke to her directly, but someone had called the EMT, and this was what she’d told them as they were giving me the once over. I felt stupid. They blamed me holding my breath and it was like a panic attack. I wasn’t panicking, I was pissed. There was a clear difference.

Looking back, her announcement wasn’t that much of a surprise. I mean, Tyler always wanted the girl he couldn’t have. Whenever Jessie came over to the house, he would flirt relentlessly with her; tell her how pretty she looked and everything. When she wasn’t around, he would ask me how much I was paying her to be seen in public with me, trying to demean my relationship with her. It didn’t start straight away beyond his shock at Jessie and me getting together. When it became clear that things between us were getting more serious, he began to get nastier with his comments and snipes. Most of the time, I was able to shut him out, but every now and then, I bit back with a comment myself.

The amount of times I had to stop myself from punching him was numerous, but I always managed to restrain myself. All he wanted was a reaction from me— something I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of. No, I kept myself in check and my emotions under control. I did begin using the punching bag in the basement, though. Dad set it up when Ty started to get serious about sports and training. I’d never used it before, not really caring about brawn or bulking my body up, but his words had an effect. Not only was it great exercise, which I’m not ashamed to say buffed me up, but it was a great release for anger. I just pictured his face on the bag and let loose.

Jessie was the only person I let get close enough to notice my split and bruised knuckles, but I never told her the truth behind my reasons for taking a sudden interest in boxing. Other friends noticed the physical changes in me, but I played it all down to needing to de-stress after intense studying sessions. I didn’t want anyone to know how much he got to me.

Ty had always managed to belittle me as we grew up, playing on his living up to his role of ‘big brother’, but using it to poke at me and try to get a reaction from me. He was above average height at just over six feet tall, but I passed him, reaching six feet three at seventeen. I’m still growing, something he hated. This was his main choice of ammunition, that and the fact that I’m “skinny as a rake.” The way he made it sound was that I wasn’t man enough, because I wasn’t into sports or had muscles upon muscles.

When I started dating Jess, he ramped up his barbs that were no longer thinly veiled as “looking out for my bro”. No, every day was a new game of twenty questions about “why did she agree to date you?” or “It’s got to be a bet”. Hearing that over and over for six months or more, I started to believe it, regardless of how much Jessie tried to put me at ease. We stopped hanging out at my house; spending time together at her house or over at the food court at the mall. Not many people knew how much she loved to read, so when she had practice, I would wait for her in the school library where we’d spend an hour or so, browsing through the stacks, stealing a kiss here and there.

We had much more in common than many people realized as she only let people see what she wanted them to. So hearing it directly from her that she was choosing him over me hurt like hell.

That’s enough. . .

Aiden

—∫∫∫∫—

January 2012

Christmas break was tough. Ty dumped Jessie on Christmas Eve after about a month of dating, and amazingly, she thought it would be a great idea to call me, crying, begging to speak to him because he was screening his calls.

I mean, come on! Really? Why on Earth would someone you dumped, help you get back together with their sibling? When I told her I wouldn’t help her get in contact with Ty, she turned bitchy as hell. It was like I was talking to a different person. The Jessie I knew rarely cussed, never mind aim those words at me. I was crushed, and I can still hear her words more than a week later.

“Did it ever fucking occur to you that I was only with you to get close to your hot as fuck brother? It’s clear to the entire school that he’s the far superior King Brother.” Without realizing it, she aimed a missile at my biggest fear about our entire relationship. “Let’s face it, who are you? Ty isn’t even at High School anymore and people still remember him. The only people who’ll remember you are the faculty.” I listened without speaking; not trusting my voice to hold out until the final nail was hammered into the coffin of our romance.

“He was better at making me come anyway.” I knew she must have heard the sob I couldn’t stop in the moments before she hung up. It was the last time we spoke.

Aiden

—∫∫∫∫—

January 2012

Mizz
. Jones asked me if Mom and Dad knew I was sexually active under age. When I told her no, she went on to give me a huge lecture. Apparently, she understands teenagers get ‘urges’ and all that crap, but we’re not to act on them; to abstain. Yeah, that’ll work with High School kids.

Look, I get that what happened between us is technically against the law and could have got us into a whole heap of shit if something had gone ‘wrong’ (Mizz. Jones’ words, not mine). Jesus, it was sex between two consenting people. Surely the police have more dangerous criminals to deal with rather than round up all the horny teenagers.

Once we got past that part of my last entry— I’ve been told I need to write more, but we’ll see; Mizz Jones was very interested in talking about my relationship with Ty before the Jessie thing. That conversation was short. I told her he’s an egotistical bastard who I couldn’t stand the sight of. The feelings are most definitely mutual. It’s been that way all of my life. We’re just too different.

According to her, it’s sad when siblings don’t get on, and she’s sure we’ll make it up when we’re older. Yeah, I can’t see that happening. The guy’s a complete dick. I can’t wait to move away to college, so I don’t have to deal with him and my Dad’s favoritism of him over me anymore.

Aiden

—∫∫∫∫—

January 2012

Bethany from my AP history class was paired with me for a research assignment today. I’ve not spoken to her much, but today we got on well. The library was closed for maintenance, so I invited her to work in the den at home. Big mistake.

Mom saw us arrive and was positively giddy the entire time she was here. It had been ages since I’d brought a girl to the house— not since Jessie. We worked for three hours solid before Bethany had to leave. Naturally, Mom asked her to stay for dinner. I know it was cruel of me, but I couldn’t help but smile when her face fell at Bethany’s apologies for having to go and meet her boyfriend, Chad. It was clear to me that the idea of me forgetting about Jessie by getting close to another girl had obviously crossed my Mother’s mind. The fact that I brought home a girl who already had a boyfriend seemed to crush Mom for a moment.

I love my parents dearly, but I wish they’d give me the freedom they gave Ty. Yeah, he’s a college student, but that doesn’t make him any more mature or responsible than I am. Mizz. Jones actually suggested I show them my journal entries, but soon changed her mind when I shut her down. I’d promised myself to never yell at her again, but I couldn’t help myself this time.

Now I think she thinks I have parent issues on top of my anger and depression.

Why can’t people just realize I’m a teenager who had his heart ripped out and stomped all over instead of being someone who needs to be ‘fixed’?

Aiden

January 2012

Two entries in one day,
Mizz
. Jones will be proud. She hates that I refer to her in this way, but right now, I don’t care. Mom keeps telling me that I’ve never defied authority in such a way before, and to stop, but I’m fed up of being ‘the good’ King Brother; the one shouldering all the expectations. Plus, knowing she reads these entries gives me a fizzle of pleasure.

I’m starting to not recognize myself. Before all this shit, I was happy chilling in the den working on school work or reading, but since Jessie. . . I can’t explain it. It’s not enough anymore. Yeah, I still work hard; it’s the only way I’ll be able to get out of this house for at least three years. Ty did college the lazy way. He opted to live at home, but still parties on campus all the time. I’m determined to do it all the right way. Campus housing, getting a part time job, and making excuses about not being able to come back during the holidays. The real student life.

I’d made plans with Jessie about coming home as much as I could while she stayed at the local college— their cheerleader squad is ranked one of the best in the state. I now wonder if she chose it because of my brother; I guess I’ll never know.

Do you know what I hate most of all? Jessie’s friends, who had started to become my friends, have shown their true colors by ignoring me completely. At lunch, I don’t even bother sitting in the cafeteria, even in the rain. I have a bench out on the quad where I can watch them without being noticed; something I hate myself for doing, but it’s like a drug. I can’t stop.

The only real friend I have is Zac. He’s a member of the History Club with me. We’ve both applied to the same schools, giving us the possibility of being on the same course. We’ve already decided that we’ll room together, if that happens. He didn’t hang around much while Jessie and I were a thing, not because I spent all my time with her, but because he gets uncomfortable around the popular crowd. Living through High School being tripped over, or shoved into lockers will have that effect on a guy. I was lucky, I never got it as bad as the others because of who my brother is; he just saved it for when we were at home.

I guess having a brother like mine exposed me to that side of life early on. Not that I ever envied him being accepted and included because of his looks and demeanor. He became more and more popular as he was accepted onto more sports teams. La Crosse, basketball, and track, to name just three. Dad was so proud and was always helping him with his training; rearranging his timetable at school so his sports sessions wouldn’t clash. He was the ‘Big man on Campus’, strutting around in his lettered jackets, even after he graduated.

Just once, I’d like to not be compared to him. No questions about why I didn’t play basketball because “you’ve got the height” or the long standing joke of “are you sure you’re brothers?” Why can’t my triumphs be as widely accepted as his?

Aiden

—∫∫∫∫—

January 2012

I ditched my meeting with
Mizz
. Jones today. Less than four hours sleep and a full day at school had given me a wicked headache. All I wanted to do was go home and sleep, but Mom was working from home. Instead, I drove thirty minutes to the beach.

When I arrived, I was hesitant to get out of the car, because the last time I’d been there was with Jessie. The place held amazing memories of last summer, and I didn’t want to taint them. Regardless of what had happened, and what she’d said to me, we’d still had some great times together.

Eventually, I got out. The rain that had been pouring down less than an hour before had stopped, but the wind was bitter. I didn’t care; I walked down onto the sand. Memories hit me as I walked towards the cove. Little flashes of Jessie’s smile, the feel of her skin, how it felt to kiss her. I reached the cove and I couldn’t walk anymore. It was there we first. . . Well. I’m not ashamed to admit that I broke down.

It’s just occurred to me; that was the first time I cried over everything that had happened. Yeah, I was angry and stuff, but I never really got emotional in that way. I can honestly say that when I managed to stop, I felt so much better – despite the headache being three times worse than it was when I arrived. For the first time in a long time, I realized that everything was going to be okay. It may take a while for me to get over things, and I would never forgive my brother or Jessie, but I was going to get over it.

Knowing I’ll be fine has made my focus on life clear. I need to make sure I graduate with the best grades possible and follow my original plan. How is it that all it takes to remind me of what’s important is writing about crying on a beach? Looking back at the mistakes I’ve made in the past, it's always something simple that made me realize which path I need to follow.

Thinking back to sitting on the beach, crying over everything that has happened in the past four months. I was worried when I first got there that I wouldn’t be able to separate the beach with thoughts of Jessie, but the longer I sat there; the less I associated her with where I was.

She’s always going to be . . . There, inside me, but I’d worked out how to make it not eat me alive.

Tyler. Well, that’s different. He’s blood, and that’s supposed to count for something.

I’m actually looking forward to telling
Mizz
. Jones that I have no need for her any more, not that I did in the first place.

Aiden