Chap. 6

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As soon as Blake and Alex arrived home, the vast quiet of the empty house enveloped them. Alex, bursting with pent-up energy, practically surged through the front door, his backpack dragging noisily behind him by one strap. "Thank god I'm out of that place! Now, time for the snack of kings!" he declared, a wide grin spreading across his face as he made a beeline for the kitchen.

Blake, more sedate, tossed his car keys into the decorative bowl by the door, his own backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder. "Not so fast, dude. If you're talking about ice cream, it's not happening today," he called out, following Alex into the kitchen. He found his younger brother already standing on a chair, pulled up precariously close to the refrigerator.

Alex turned, his excitement dimming. "Why not?" he asked, a hopeful eyebrow raised. Blake gently, but firmly, took Alex's bag from his hand, placing it on the dining table. "It's called a punishment. Mom said you couldn't have any till you bring up your grades." Blake shrugged, trying to appear indifferent, as Alex let out a heavy, deflated sigh and rolled his eyes.

Alex slowly opened the freezer door, just a crack, peering up at Blake with pleading eyes. "Coooome on, Blake. They won't even know. They're never home anyways, how would they find out?" As much as it hurt to admit it, Alex did have a point. A tiny, rebellious part of Blake agreed. He reached for a cabinet, pulling out a small bowl, then a spoon from the drawer.

Alex's face lit up as Blake opened the freezer the rest of the way, revealing Alex's favorite M&M ice cream. He dug in, scooping two generous, colorful mounds into the bowl before passing it to Alex, who clambered down from the chair "This never happened, deal?" Blake murmured, leaning an arm against the table as Alex sat beside his backpack, already digging in with gusto, a smear of chocolate on his cheek.

Alex nodded furiously, spooning a generous bite into his mouth. Blake watched him eat, the usual tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. "You got homework today?" Alex shook his head, licking his spoon clean. "Nope! Miss Pear helped me do it in tutoring." That was great. Now Blake didn't have to worry about coaxing him through math problems tonight.

Alex pointed his spoon at Blake as his older brother headed towards the stairs. "Isn't she so cool?" Blake shrugged, pulling up on his bag strap. "I guess. Listen, I'm going to be doing my homework. Call me if you need me. After you finish with that, clean the bowl and spoon, then put them both back up. Got it?"

Alex gave Blake a thumbs-up, already shoveling more ice cream. "I'll just watch TV or play video games after this!" hearing that, Blake gave a dismissive wave, turning and walking upstairs into his room. He threw his backpack onto the bed, then clicked on his desk lamp. Despite his outward appearance, his room was meticulously clean. All his clothes were neatly folded, his shoes lined up, a few band posters adorned the walls alongside his TV, and his work desk was organized. He sat on the bed, but not before remembering to leave the door ajar, just in case Alex called for help.

He pulled the contents from his backpack, opening his first textbook, and got to work. If you looked at Blake, you would probably think he was the type to not care about his grades, but honestly, he was smart. All his grades were A's and B's; he never had difficulty passing tests or pop quizzes. The problem was, he always had to put most of his focus on helping Alex—not that he minded. He loved his little brother fiercely, but it did get tiring at times.

On normal days, he would pick up Alex, come home, cook him dinner, help him with homework (which was a lot easier said than done, as Alex had problems sitting still and paying attention), then get Alex ready for his bath, and finally, get him to bed. After all that, it would be about 11 PM, then Blake would finally be able to get to his own homework before collapsing asleep.

About thirty minutes into his quiet study, a loud CRASH! echoed from downstairs. Blake leaped out of his bed, his heart pounding, rushing down the stairs. When he finally got downstairs, his eyes widened at the sight "I can explain!" were the first words out of Alex's mouth.

The chair lay toppled near the refrigerator, and the M&M ice cream container, along with most of its colorful contents, had fallen to the ground, splattered everywhere in a sticky, sweet, chocolatey mess. Alex stood a few feet away from the wreckage, biting his lip, his face and hands smeared with ice cream. "I... just wanted a little more ice cream, but the container was too heavy. It slipped out of my hands. I tried to get it back in, buuutt... I'm sorry, Blake."
Blake ran his hands through his hair, tugging slightly in exasperation.

He couldn't believe his eyes. He let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he got closer. The closer he got, the worse it looked. Alex's hands were covered in ice cream, clearly from trying to futilely scoop it back into the container. His shoe tracks, now sticky with melted ice cream, dotted the kitchen floor.

Blake couldn't help the frustration that laced his voice when he said, "Oh my god, Alex! Take off your shoes and go upstairs. Get ready for your bath, please." He had to get all this cleaned up before their parents got home, or they would both be screwed.

Alex quickly kicked off his shoes, leaving them abandoned on the edge of the sticky mess, and ran halfway up the stairs. He looked back at Blake, who was now walking closer to the disaster zone. "I really am sorry, Blake..." he whispered, his voice small, before turning and running the rest of the way up the stairs. Blake surveyed the sugary chaos, already feeling overwhelmed. "God dammit, Alex," he grumbled, picking up a nearby towel, bracing himself to get to work.

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