Butterfly Years

Chapter 5

 “Who’s he?”

“Ryan.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Crush?”

“Ew. No!”

“Friend with benefits?”

“ARCHIE!” I scream.

“I was just asking!” my nineteen-year-old jerk of a brother protests.

I rolled my eyes. “Just because you are grown up doesn’t mean I want to hear all the gory details!”

“I. Was. Just. Kidding!” my brother exclaims, his eyes fixed on the road.

The main reason I asked Archie to come pick me up was to convince him that Ryan was just a friend, so that once Mom began firing me with questions, he could probably – probably! Oh my brother – stick by me.

“Syaz…”  Archie says. “Yeah?” I ask.

“You know you can tell me, right?” he says.

I sigh. “I know…”

“So do you like Ryan?”

“Archie…” I begin, “A week back me and Ryan were enemies. Then his father died. He needs someone to talk to, I talk to him. Yes, we’ve suddenly begun to get along pretty well. But… I don’t know.”

“Do you like him?” my brother persists.

“I don’t know,” I say truthfully. That is the bitter truth. Sometimes when I see the different side of him, I can’t help but get attracted to him. But at other times, I have to convince myself that he’s just my friend.

“I guess he’s gone trough a lot. He probably needs a friend right now…and nothing more.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Archie says triumphantly.

“Are you really that interested in your baby sister’s crushes?” I ask.

“It’s way more interesting than algebra.”

“Touché.” I murmur.

“But you’ll tell me right? I mean I want to be the first to know when my little sister gets her very first boyfriend.”

“Uhhuhh,” I say completely drained of enthusiasm.

“Give it time, Syaz, but let me tell you, it’s rather obvious to everyone with the amount of time you two spend with each other. Even during the past couple of years, you’re constantly bickering about how annoying he is. I can’t imagine your life without Ryan in it.”

I think for a moment, and then agree with brother dearest. “Yeah, I guess so. But that doesn’t mean I like him.”

Pulling into our house’s parking space, Archie reaches over and ruffles my curly hair. “Give it some time,” he repeats, “It’ll all work out.”

“I know,” I sigh, “But you’re sticking by me during Mom’s questions right?”

“Sorry Sis,” my brother says, getting out of the car, “Algebra calls.”

“Thanks for the help, my most helpful, and marvelous and absolutely spiffing brother,” I say sarcastically.

“Love you too,” my brother says briefly before mom opens the door. We walk in, and immediately Archie makes his way past the living room into his bedroom at the end of the hall.

This is so not fair, I think to myself.

“Hey mom,” I say, setting my bag near the dining table and reaching up to give mom a hug.