Stepbrother (c.d)

Eight

Jordan

"Stupid!" I yelled, referring to myself as I punched the steering wheel. I was an idiot. Yeah I never went to see my brother leave. I figured he already knew what happened. It would explain his cold behavior, and I didn't feel like dealing with the consequences Mom had to offer. Instead I was driving down a neighborhood street on my way to the interstate. I didn't know where I was going to go, but it wasn't going to be here.

I really thought I could be with my stepbrother under the same roof. I was naive, living in this fairytale that all things came true and worked out in the end.

I don't think it was him telling me that we couldn't be together that hurt me most though, it was the fact the he took my virginity and then left.

Yeah, I was a goody goody.

No tears dabbed the corners of my eyes, no. I wasn't going to break down because of this I was stronger than that.

I drowned down some of the bottle of whisky I had. Truth be told, my mind was in a haze and I was too drunk to know my morals.

I knew I shouldn't be behind the wheel. My driving was impaired at the moment. Terribly. I felt my eyes droop low and the car wavered, swerving in and out of lanes. My eyes popped open when the car started to accelerate towards a nearby crosswalk where a young woman and her child was crossing. "Watch where you're going!" The female screamed, holding her baby's head as she started to run to other side.

Oh, geez. I slapped a hand over my forehead, trying to make the constant buzzing go away but to no avail. If anything I have made it worse. I punched the horn repeatedly to feel some sort of release some sort of anger dispersion.

But the fading of my frustration was the least of my worries as I feel the car's direction slip easily out of my fingertips.

--"---

Cameron

She just left... Gone. Fucking gone. No trace or anything. And me being the typical dumbass I am just let her go while she was upset.

Rule number 1: you don't ever let a girl drive upset.

And I couldn't help but have a bad feeling when she was gone. I paced back and forth in the living room, cursing aloud and wondering what I should do, what I could do. I shook my head, my fingernails digging into my the palms of my hands. The slamming of a car door rung into my ears and I blinked, realizing I had been debating this for almost an hour.

"Okay, I'll give you five minutes to explain what the hell happened with Jason." It was Mom. Her keys fell easily out of her livid shaking hands.

Shit.

"He started it. I tried to help him with his bags and he purposely moved out the way so that I'd fall." She rolled her eyes.

"But of course you don't believe me because I'm not your son." I scoffed.

"That's low, Cameron." Her voice was cracked and breathy but I paid no mind to it.

"But it's true and you know that! I'm not your damn son and you don't see me as such so don't fucking act like you care." I barked, not even realizing how close I was to her.

She backed away, tears streaming down her face. Broken, dry heaving sobs broke from her throat her hands fumbled messily in her hair.

Once again my actions have proved that I am an absolute dick. She turned her back, not yet walking away from me. "Mom-"

"No!" She screamed, her hair whipping swiftly across her face as she turned back around. "How dare you? How dare you say those things? I don't value you as a son? Are you serious?! You're fucking serious! I let you come in when you had nowhere else to go. When your mother overdosed and your father didn't give a damn what happened to you, he kicked you out on the streets when you were nine, and where was I? Right by your side! Gave you a place to stay, put clothes on your back while taking care of my own. I treated you like my own! My son has been your bestfriend for as long as you've been breathing but you dare think I don't look at you the same?!" I breathed heavily and placed two fingers at the bride of my nose, squeezing tightly.