That Scandalous Year

14. The Ugly Truth

"Get up." Max's voice was the sound that disturbed the silence inside Clead's room that Saturday afternoon.

He wasn't even aware that his brother was home that weekend.

"I don't want to," Clead murmured to his pillow, which covered the back of his head, that was plastered on his bed for what—again—felt like hours.

"Just do," Max said.

"Why?"

"We're going somewhere." Max's voice sounded closer, so he must've been standing near the headboard.

"Who?" Clead sluggishly asked.

"You and me."

"Why?"

Max didn't answer, and Clead didn't move. Then he heard a loud frustrated sigh.

"Just get up and get dressed, Clead."

Fifteen minutes later, Clead found himself seated shotgun at Max's car. It was an old Honda that used to be their dad's.

"Where are we going?" Clead asked his brother when they reached the gate of the village.

The guard gave them a salute as they passed through.

"Everywhere and nowhere," Max said as they joined the highway.

"Can you talk normally, please?"

Max let out a short laugh first before he said, "to the edge of the earth."

Clead sighed and looked away.

"To a beach," Max said afterward.

"But it's raining."

"I know that."

"Okay." Clead slumped on the seat and watched the roads as his brother led them to the town south of their city.

He always thought like he was seeing his older self when he was with Max. Not only because they looked very much alike, but also because they had close to a hundred percent equal footing in almost everything.

The road leading to the parking lot of the beach resort was paved, but Max's car's tires still got muddy, Clead noticed. He pulled up and wore the hood of his jacket, though his face already caught droplets from the rain. His brother shared his umbrella when he joined him.

The rain subsided a bit as they walked their way through and reached the booth where the operator of the place was watching a show on an old TV. The lady gave them a confused look at first. But then she shrugged and collected their entrance fees.

"Why are we here?" Clead asked his brother once they were out of anyone's hearing radius. As if there was anyone else on the beach with that kind of weather.

"So we can talk."

Clead focused his gaze on the dark grey horizon and the crashing tides as they walked.

They settled in one of those beat-up, outdated, and old-fashioned picnic booths made of bamboo and nipa.

Clead brushed off wet sand from one bench before he sat down.

"I know what happened," Max said. He was standing only a couple of feet beside Clead, but his voice sounded distant and detached. "It sucks," he added with a subtle snicker. "It really does. I'm sorry it happened to you." He sounded serious again.

Clead waited for his brother to say more. Max always got fidgety when he had something to say. And on that rainy afternoon at that beach, his hands were all over.

"Is that all you have to say?" Clead condescendingly asked. "You woke me up and took me here just for you to say something like that?"

Max exasperatedly sighed. "A, you weren't sleeping earlier. B, it's more than that. Here's the thing." He cleared his throat and sat down on the bench opposite his younger brother. "There's some nasty legal drama that's going on here," Max said quietly as he leaned a little closer. "And I'd like to give you this piece of advice that might save you and everyone else the trouble."