The Things We Do (Under Editing)

Blood Family

Coffee shops... I hadn't had much luck with them recently, but hopefully this one would, at the very least, not fall on me. The statistics weren't good with my current company, though.

Elliot had claimed a small table in the corner, along with a few comfortable chairs, and was reading a book when I entered. I swear he had a different book every time I saw him. Whether he actually read one a day, or just kept changing books so that people thought he did, I wasn't sure. Either way, he refused acknowledge that I'd sat down next to him until he'd finished the chapter.

"You're late," he informed me as he stuck a random piece of paper in his book and closed it.

I snorted. "Like you even noticed."

"Look," Elliot said, pausing from pulling books out of his bag. "If you want to get your grades up, you're going to have to take this seriously."

Being five minutes late didn't mean I wasn't serious, but I felt like pushing his buttons, so, putting on the most serious expression I could manage, I sat up straight and saluted. "Yes, sir!"

If he rolled his eyes any farther, we'd be able to verify just how big his brain actually was.

Despite my tutor's lack of faith in my programming abilities, that was the one thing that I didn't actually need his help with. However, everything else was pretty much garbage, and I probably earned far more sighs and annoyance from him than he actually provided throughout the afternoon.

Maybe it was because I had accepted my stupidity that he didn't feel as much need to point it out as usual.

Whatever else I could say about the guy, he certainly knew what he was doing when it came to our classes. By the time we stopped for a break, my brain felt like it was overheating. And yet, everything was starting to make sense. "Starting" mind you. It's not like I was suddenly going to ace my classes.

Carefully, I raised my arms and stretched my back. Elliot reflexively glanced my way when my spine popped. I cracked it again in several other places for good measure, then I allowed my arms to drop and my head to rest for a moment on the back of the seat as I breathed in the smell of coffee and pastries.

The air conditioner soon soothed my headache and the quiet chatter and shifting of the 6 other people in the shop nearly lulled me to sleep.

In an attempt to stay awake, I turned my attention to Elliot, who had just returned with a new order of coffee.

"You're actually really good at this," I told him. That sounded a little more offensive than I'd meant it, but he'd said worse things to me.

"Surprised?"

"Not really, but you're certainly disproving James's claims about you."

I think that made my original statement a little less awful, and yet Elliot had a much more negative reaction. The memory of their fight rose to my mind and I recalled the way he had reacted then. Before I could stop myself, a question fell from my lips.

"Why did his comments make you so angry?"

Elliot took a deep breath before answering. "Because nothing could be farther from the truth. There's no way my father would ever pay for my success. If I don't manage on my own, I'm not worthy of his money." He spoke the words evenly, but I could feel the darkness behind them. "My father has always expected a lot from me. How could he not considering how 'great' my brother is." He placed as much sarcasm on the word 'great' as he could.

"Your brother?" I wasn't quite sure I had any right to be asking about his family drama, or if I even wanted in on it, but I knew a thing or two about wanting a parent's attention and never getting it.

A short laugh escaped Elliot as if I'd told a particularly awful dad joke. "He was the prodigy. Give him a computer or a robot and ten minutes later he could tell you exactly how it worked. By the time he was 20, he'd already earned his master's. He took all the same classes I am and he passed them all with flying colors and little to no work."

I raised my eyebrows in spite of myself. Those were some pretty impressive accomplishments.

"What does he do now?"

"He's got himself a nice, cushy job at J-Tech, sounding smart."

I snorted loudly. "He sounds like a real charmer."

My effort to cheer Elliot up was rewarded by a small smile that he tried to repress.

"Better hope I never meet him or you'll lose your spot as my second least favorite person in the city." Not counting anyone I knew from being Phantom Banshee, of course.

"Oh, no," he responded dryly. "I can't have that." After a moment he added, "Though that does raise the question of who is your least favorite."

"James," I answered before he was even done asking.

"Something we can agree on then."

I thought that would be the end of it, but he asked another question, quietly enough it seemed more like he was wondering to himself than actually asking me. "Did you believe what he said about me?"

Now, I have a lot of problems, some of them worse than others. Generally I don't appreciate when those problems show up at my apartment and refuse to acknowledge that they're problems.

I kicked the door open, ready to cut straight through the living room and crash face first into my bed, never in my life having been happier that there was no class on Sundays. This plan was ruined, however, by the guest sitting on our couch, drinking our coffee from our mugs.

I threw Mel a look where she was avoiding confrontation by cooking dinner, pointedly with her back towards me. I know she doesn't like turning people away, but this was ridiculous.

I wasn't in the mood for hellos, so I stepped into the room, allowed my backpack to fall from my shoulder, and asked, "Why?"

"Is that any way to greet you mother?"

My unimpressed face just earned me a deep sigh. She took a long sip of her drink before trying again.

"Hello darling. It's good to see you after so long." She raised her eyebrows and waited for a reply.

A gave her my fakest smile and threw my arms wide. "Mother! I haven't seen you since you announced that my younger brother was the result of a six year affair with Kyle, and then left to marry Kyle while leaving your son behind!" She didn't seem to be fooled by my oh-so-convincing welcoming tone.

"I contact you on your birthday and Christmas!"

The smile plummeted from my face. "Yes, thank you for the dollar store cards you send from your various vacation spots."

Unable to argue, my mother switched topics. "I've been hearing a lot of terrible things about this city and your father and I have decided that it's too dangerous for you here and you need to go home."

I started laughing. I hadn't thought that I could be any more done with my mother, but oh, how wrong I had been.

"Let me translate that for you: Dad's worried about me, but work refuses to give him enough time off for him to come himself, so he promised you something in exchange for you coming."

Ding ding ding I hit the jackpot! If only. Then I might just have enough money to pay for this Hell hole I'd entered.

"I'm not even going to ask what you get out of this deal, because I genuinely don't care, but even if you hadn't given up any right to mother me when you ditched us five years ago, I'm twenty-three, so you have literally no say in my life."

I'd call my father later and reassure him that I would be fine, but I would give my mother nothing. Slinging my backpack back onto my shoulder, I headed for my room.

"I assume you can find your way out." My door slammed behind me.