Unfortunate

Prologue

Elliot's Point of View

I step into the blinding sunlight, shielding my eyes with my hands. Before I could prepare myself, a 50 pound, blond-headed, energetic 6 year old came jumping into my arms.

                “Hey, Dylan,” I smiled, ruffling my brother’s hair.

                “Elliot! I want to make dinner tonight! We have so much food, I want to make sandwiches! Any kind of sandwiches you want! The cabinets are loaded, it’s amazing, Elliot!”

                My smile grew at Dylan’s excitement. In the past, I never would have let him make dinner. Mainly because we were never fortunate enough to have anything better than fast food or Lunchables from the closest grocery store. Now look at us! A house, stocked cabinets, furniture, everything! “Sure, get creative. I want an everything sandwich.”

                “An everything  sandwich? Do you want peanut butter on it? Or ham and cheese?”

                “I said everything, kiddo. Gimme it all!”

                “Ew, you’re gross,” he said. Then, his expression went from disgusted to pleased. “But ok! Although…. I might need someone to help me.”

                “Oh yeah?”  I almost cringed knowing what he was going to say, even though I kept a happy exterior.

                “Yeah, can you invite Mal over? I haven’t seen her in forever,” he said while making an over dramatic hand motion.

                In that instant, my smile faded. I didn’t know what to say to Dylan. Even though it affected me more than him, I still wanted to protect him from the truth. Mallory did so much for Dylan and I –she did everything for Dylan and I- and she left before I could ever repay her. Not that anything I do would be enough to repay her, of course.

 I have to move on, Elliot, she had said. I don’t want to –obviously- , and you might not either, but let’s just move on as fast as we can so it will be easier for us... and so that I don’t have to sound corny anymore. Just smile, okay? I'm so sick of your seriousness; just smile and it will be easier. The memory made its way into a sad smile across my face. I felt a pang in my chest when I lied, “She’s… on vacation.”