Shadows of Yesterday

Chapter 25: Best. Family. Ever

When Liam and I stepped into my house, the first thing I heard was yelling.

Not just raised voices--full-bodied, venom-laced screaming that echoed off the walls and slammed into me like a fist. I stopped dead in the entryway, caught in that weird moment where your brain tries to catch up to chaos. Beside me, Liam hovered awkwardly, holding my bundle of dryer-warm clothes in one arm and my soaked backpack in the other.

Declan was in the middle of the living room, flushed and wild-eyed, practically vibrating with unadulterated fury. His arms flung wide as he shouted at Ben, who stood across from him with his head ducked and arms limp at his sides.

"I mean, you're pathetic!" Declan snarled. "Get your own life instead of fussing about mine! What kind of nobody is so desperate for things to do that they have to go meddling in other people's business?"

Ben flinched... but still said nothing.

"If you actually cared, you'd trust me to make my own decisions!" Declan continued, his voice cracking. "I'm your older brother, not your ward, for the love of all things. You're lucky this house has a no-swearing rule, because I hate you, I really do."

He was swaying slightly. His speech was slurred, his movements jerky and delayed, like someone trying to wade through water. It wasn't hard to figure out why.

Declan was drunk. Again.

Of course he was.

My eyes flicked to Ben, who hadn't moved. I couldn't see his face, but the tension in his shoulders gave him away. Rigid. Controlled. Carefully blank. He didn't even glance at us. Or anything, really.

Neither of them did.

It was like we didn't exist.

I stood there, backpack still on, my housekey clenched in one fist, and felt my blood start to simmer. Liam hadn't said a word, and honestly, I didn't blame him. I could practically smell the fury radiating off Declan, thick and sour like bad cologne. It coated the air, seeped into the floorboards, settled behind my teeth. Then the garage door opened.

Great.

My parents stepped into the house like this was normal, like walking into a full-blown screaming match was just part of their Wednesday routine. I hated that it was. That this was a normal part of our weekdays. What kind of family could call themselves put-together and then come home to this? 

They didn't even glance toward the front door. Didn't see me. Didn't see Liam. Didn't notice anything except for the twenty-three-year-old noise machine going off on their second oldest child like he had committed some unforgiveable offense just by caring.

My dad's eyes zeroed in on Declan like a hawk. "What is wrong with you two?" he snapped, storming over and jabbing a finger into Declan's chest. "Did you not graduate grade preschool?"

"He's meddling in things that aren't his business!" Declan bellowed, throwing an arm toward Ben like he was lobbing a grenade.

"Because he cares about you, you idiot!" my dad shouted back. "Have you no common—"

I snapped.

"Are you kidding me?" I said, voice low, cold, and sharp enough to slice skin.

Everyone froze.

Four heads turned toward the doorway at once, eyes widening as if they were just now realizing I was standing there. As if Liam wasn't next to me, visibly uncomfortable. As if someone hadn't been supposed to pick me up from school hours ago. As if I hadn't just spent the better part of an afternoon trying not to die of hypothermia alone. As if I wasn't now going to fail all my classes due to all my supplies being waterlogged beyond repair.