Different colored minds

My brother

PAMELA POV

Sitting in math class I can't help but glance at joe. He's not who I thought he was. He's kinder than I thought he was. I'm confused. And somehow mad.

"You good?" I didn't catch myself staring fast enough.
"Yeah," I stutter looking back at the board.
"Anything you wanna share?" I look up in surprise.
"I was just surprised that you helped out my brother the other day. I've been trying to figure you out," I comment. I surprise myself by my honesty. he chuckles.
"Why was it surprising I'd help your brother?"
I glance at the board again.
"Do you want the honest answer? It's kind of brutal,"
"I'm sure I can take it."
"I... I don't know. I didn't think you thought that much about... well didnt care that much about stuff like that,"
"You're right. I did it on a whim. He looked cold." I scrunch my eyebrows.
"That was a whim? Because he was cold?"
"I don't know. Could have been his comic books. He has a lot of those."
"That he does."
"When he set them down I saw he was reading Steven king too. My parents would have killed me if they saw me with a book like that."
"They've tried to make him get rid of them. My dad thinks it's demon worship, and that my brother's a bad Christian for reading them."
"What do you think?" He laughs.
"Bullshit. It's a book. If my brother felt convicted of reading that stuff, he would do something about it. The lord convicts us when something is wrong and gives us a way out of temptation. The lord is the one who gets to decide what's demon worship or not. Not my dad."
"I guess so," he chuckles some more. It grates on me.
I don't know what to say now.
In the distance I hear the bell ring. I stuff my books in my backpack, and swing it over my shoulder.
"Make sure to tell your brother he's welcome any time." I just about drop my bag.
"Okay," I smile slightly as he passes me by on his crutches.

I can't help but feel the gulf between my brother and I widening. I don't know why I expect him to trust me with what he's going through. Or why he won't just listen when I talk to him, or why he wont let me near him. He just pushes me further away. And I know he'll be thrilled to have a guy in his life to look up to, but I've been his older sister for years. It hurts because I want to help him, force him to let me in. But I know that's wrong.

Damn conviction—

And now all I can think about is how joe is going to be the one with a friendship with him. Who is joe anyways? And then it hits me, I really don't know anything about him. All I know is he saved my brother and he doesn't have a part of his leg. I blink. How astute of me. Maybe I'm prejudging him. Make I'm being prejudiced towards him. Maybe I'm mad at him because he looks a little like me. But I stop myself. He's nothing like me.

Then who is he?

Walking down the hallway I look over at the old dusty shelf of awards and large ornate pictures of students past on the wall. And then I see him. I don't know why I didn't see it before. Joe's icy eyes are prying into mine from the wall. I step up to the case and read the golden letters next to the picture.

I don't know football but what I do know is that joe was the cream of the crop. It looks like he lost his leg in the summer. This is the only year he doesn't have an award up here. He's been carrying the team since he joined it. And all of the sudden my heart hurts. He was the captain and before that the one being trained to take the reins. In one of the pictures dusty and haunting he's even smiling. He has his eyes shut and his arms wrapped tightly around a tall black haired kid and another ginger haired kid I'd seen in passing. He looks ethereal. There's a lump in my throat. He was the school's pride and joy until he lost his leg.

Suddenly I hear the bell ring above me in the hall. My stomach drops. I forgot about getting to class because I was focused on that. Stupid joe. And now I'm more irritated with him than I was before. I'm more bothered by it than I want to be. I'm more focused on him than I want to be. I care more than I want to. And I already know what this means. I've been through this rodeo before.

The unrequited love of Pamela.

I sigh as I push the door open to my next class.

I won't let myself like someone again. It's never worth it. I give too much. They get uncomfortable. They leave. Just like everyone else. They only care when it's convenient for them. That's how this all works out. And besides he punched his hand through a door so he's sure to have anger issues. And then I stop myself. Am I resentful? Is this how my resentment is showing itself? Do I just wish my relationship with my brother was better so bad I'm projecting my brother onto him? I mean, it makes sense. Maybe he's not the really bad one here, maybe I am.

Making Im the calculating one.

And the thought sends a shiver down my spine.

I thought that I was innocent.