The Rhodes Method

twenty-five

When the world comes in
They come, they come
To build a wall between us
We know they won't win
--- Don't Dream It's Over, Crowded House

OCTAVIA RHODES

On the morning of my seventeenth birthday, I wake up to my brother's yells.

Myles is not a morning person, never has been, but on the twenty-sixth day of every June, he becomes one. He wakes up at seven, with a party blower and a weird hat, and storms into my room with a bright grin on his face. An unwelcomed grin that I refuse to look at until I am a little more awake and conscious.

"Myles," I groan, burying my face into my pillow. "Fuck off."

Myles does not leave until I wake up. Then he is shoving me out of the room, onto the kitchen stool, for my burnt birthday pancakes.

Last year, Myles had been a little sadder due to our father's disappearance a few weeks before. Myles was slipping and everyone was on edge but he mustered up enough happiness for the both of us.

A year later, when I am officially eighteen years of age, I wake up to a quiet house. 

My alarm indicates that it's nine in the morning, so Vince has likely left for work already and Logan will either be locked in his room, at work, or at the library. I get up, brush my teeth, make a bowl of oats and fruit for breakfast and train as I usually do. I watch a little television before I get bored and then I am in the backyard again, ditching my hockey equipment for Damien's old basketball I find in the garage. 

He used to invite his friends over and I'd hear them swear at each other all afternoon before they all came in for dinner. This is where I met Reid, who had a smile that I couldn't stop looking at, and dark eyes that I caught glancing at me for a second too long across the dining table. Damien sometimes let me join his games, though this was a rare occasion. 

On my birthday, Damien did not give me any presents, not that I expected any, but before midnight we'd play a game. Just the two of us, a wordless and meaningless game of basketball.

I realise very quickly that the game is not as fun without my older brother.

I grab my equipment and storm back into the house. Logan is still locked away in his room. He had left the room once, to tell me to order something for lunch with his phone. I didn't, so I'm a little hungry and pissed now. It is my birthday and I spending it alone and bored. I am more unhappy with myself than I am with my brothers. Damien has left and Vince has kept me grounded but I still can't help but hate myself a little more. For letting myself feel pity. For feeling sorry for myself.

I hesitate at my bedroom door, and my eyes flicker between mine and Logan's door. Knowing him, he won't leave his room until Vince comes home.

I am not leaving yet to go visit Damien. There are a few things I have to work out first, like the best time to leave before my brothers realise I am missing in the first place. But I refuse to stay in the house for a minute longer. So, without hesitating, I roughly throw off my old shirt and pull on a white tank, and a pair of shorts because of the hot summer heat, and grab a cap. I haven't been on a run in ages, and I want to enjoy the weather.

Ten minutes into my run, I steer off course and head to the lake.

I haven't been here since Damien and my unfortunate encounter many weeks ago. But the memory of then does not resurface when I stand in front of the water. Instead, I am taken back to my childhood, and my memories of our whole family resurface: Raymond holding onto Myles and I's hands as we struggle on the ice, Logan and Vince skating ahead, and Damien skating circles around us.