My brother’s house… He bought it a right before his wife Gabriella and him adopted their first kid (they’ve got two now). It’s not huge, but it’s super nice. It’s also It’s also only eight minutes from their kids school, so Michael can drop them off on the way to work. Michael’s a eight years older than me and a lawyer, so he rakes in the dough, which gave Gabriella the chance to quit her job and run for public office. I have no idea how they do all of that and are still better parents than mom and dad were... Not to say that they were bad! It’s just that Michael and Gabriella are amazing… Also, Michael Vyse is the most lawyer name I’ve ever heard… His fate was like, sealed at birth. To be fair: with a last name like ours, we probably all missed our callings as porn-stars.

After a moment, Michael is at the door. It’s after work, and he’s got a bear in his hand and a big grin. After the obligatory hugs I’m in the living room, and he’s got me a glass of water. They don’t keep sodas in the house, and even though it’s only 3 months Michael sure a hell isn’t giving me a drink until I hit that sweet sweet 21 years old.

He grins. “Things are good. She’s out at a debate since election season’s on, and I’m stuck here with the kids, but now that you’re here I’ve got company, right?” We banter lightly, him talking about the campaign season, the kids (who are watching cartoons at the moment), and work. I in turn talk about school.

We’re interrupted as the kids come running in. Noah is in front, and they’re complaining about the bathroom… Apparently the toilet’s clogged. With a wink, Michael says he’ll be back in a second and disappears. I’m alone, at least for a moment. Sinking into my comfy chair, I look around. God… this house is so nice… My eyes settle on the cash tray by the door, and I see that there are at least two twenties there… On one hand, I definitely need cash way more than he does, and I’m going to ask for it anyway, but on the other that’s stealing… From my brother.

A minute later Michael steps back into the room, a grin on his face. “Now then, where were we? Right, new friends!” He’s so… lovely. You banter on about friends, and you tell him all about Lily. How you two knew each other in high school, and how she lived near you all’s house growing up. He smiles. “I remember. As a kid, you talked about Lily. She’s the one you drew that picture of. You know, most of us thought you’d just made her up since she never wanted to come over to the house, but here you are proving me wrong.” I… I don’t remember this. I’ve got to push for details. “You were what… Like, eight when you drew that picture in school? The one with her right next to you. You said you were going to give it to her next class. She was super tall and had horns, and you were… you. You said she’d love it and we all laughed. I guess some things finally get explanations, right?”

I start talking about how close Lily and my interests are, we even share the same taste in music. I tell Michael about the concert that you and Lily went to recently, and how metal it was, but he seems to close up a bit. His brows furrow. I keep talking, but finally come to a stop, before posing the question: “Is everything OK?” He responds very shortly, “Was this show very expensive?

I desperately try to justify the expense, but his gaze pierces me, cutting down to my lies. I can’t lie to him… I just… I can’t. He’s my brother, and he deserves better than that. “I’m sorry…” Takes a long deep breath. “You take my money, you beg me for more money, and you do what with it?”

“Your sorry? You know, I really thought you’d grown Evelyn. I thought that maybe, just maybe you’d developed some respect after last time, but now I see that my hope was misplaced. You know, I’m supporting a family of four, and mom and dad. Mom’s not been employed in years, and dad’s been on leave since granddad died, and you have the audacity to ask for cash for school, and then you blow it on concerts with your friends?”

“You know, sometimes saying sorry isn’t enough. Sometimes you n eed to grow up. I try to help you over and over, but you always do this. You’re about to be twenty one, and I can’t imagine you being able to buy alcohol. Get the hell out of my house.”

“I need you to leave, now. I need to think about all of this! You know, I had such high⸺” I’m shutting down, he’s continuing to talk, but he’s right. I just need to get out… I can’t take it anymore. I slip out to my car, and when I make it to my car, I start crying. Fuck, anyone else… I could take anyone else, but Michael? Why does it have to be him… How could I mess this up? How could I?