I Wonder If I Care as Much

Chapter Two

"Oh...shit."

"Mal?" The door closed behind him at average level, but to the man on the couch it was the fall of Rome. Taking his jacket and throwing it on the kitchen counter he made his way to the living room. Sprawled on the couch was another short man, a blanket wrapped around him and a pillow under his head. Upon seeing, and hearing Angus enter, he moved the pillow to cover his face. "Whaddya doin', Mal?"

"Dyin'," he answered curling himself into a ball. Rows of medicines lined the coffee table along with several empty glasses of water. Angus took a seat on the couch across from his brother, laughing a bit to himself. The cigarette was pulled from his teeth and replaced with a smile. The mound on the couch hardly moved. "I feel wasted."

"Glad it's you an' not me," Angus said, his weight pressing back on the furniture. Malcolm rolled over and threw the pillow off his head, groaning. Two glasses stood in the line of fire and clattered to the ground. "Would have missed my date."

"You'd call it a date?"

"Took her out a few spots, dinner included," Angus said matter-of-factly. A hand reached up to push his hair back from his forehead. "I'd say I went on a date."

"Mmmm. How'd it go?"

"Tee-rific," he answered setting his cigarette in an ashtray, propping his feet on the coffee table. Malcolm frowned at the shoes in his face but held his peace all the same. He blindly reached for a glass of water and finally turned to look to see the only one left was a foot away from his grasp. "Couldn't be better."

"How's she doin'?" Malcolm asked sitting up. The conversation guided his mind away from his ill state and bettered his attitude. His double dosage of medicine was working wonders too.

"She's alright, was doin' some gardening when I got there."

"What for?"

"Dunno, just diggin' some plants out it looked like, didn't ask." Malcolm nodded as he yawned, eager to rest from his day of ill fortune. "You wanna rest? I can leave if ya' want."

"Nah, I can stay up."

"You sure? We can talk tomorrow, you can see her yourself."

"Shut yer mouth an' keep talkin'," Malcolm grinned. Angus laughed as he removed the watch from his wrist. It was ten forty five. It really wasn't that late, Travis was overreacting. He furrowed his brow as the memory of her tiny wrist enveloped that hand. Her downcast eyes like a puppy getting scolded, her disappointment when her house marked their final steps. Something stirred within him. "..."

Angus snapped his head up to see Malcolm's expectant stare. "Hmm?" Malcolm shook his head.

"Where have you been, I've been callin' your name five days now." The watch was tossed on an empty side table.

"Right here, Mal. Now what were you sayin'?"

"I asked what you did." Tossing his thoughts back and forth in his head kept Angus silent for a few minutes. "Snog?"

"Not hardly," he finally answered. "It's like I said. Took her out to dinner, saw the sights, had a ball." He thumbed at the kitchen off to the side. "Any Cola left?"

"You can check, but your chances are slim. 'Cause I've just been so keen on soft drinks lately," Malcolm replied with a wry smile.

"Jus' stick with your ginger ale, Mal, it'll do you a lot of good." Angus took a bottle from the fridge and returned to his spot on the couch. "How've you been?"

"Fabulous. Fuckin' fabulous."

"Yeah?" Angus grinned.

"'M sore as hell, an' bored as hell. Been waitin' for you to come home for hours."

"Waiting for me?" Angus asked batting his eyelashes. Malcolm laughed and Angus set his drink on the coffee table. "Sorry about that, Mal. Lost track of time."

"It's alright, don't worry about it," he sniffed. "I'm glad you had a good time."

"You'll have a much better day tomorrow, Mal, I know it."

"You do? Huh. Alright, I'm holdin' you to it... Angus?"

"Hmm?" he replied looking at the carpet.

"Is tomorrow...just another goodbye?" His eyes were on his brother's now. Malcolm had completely sat up now, his feet on the floor, hands crossed in his lap. "Bon's expectin' us back in a few days. Sherrie's waitin' for you..."

"So?"

Malcolm shrugged. "So..."

"Look, we'll go to Hannah's place tomorrow, an' take her around someplace else. No goodbyes there."

"You know what I mean." The brothers stared each other down, Angus' gaze slowly melting into a stone cold glare. "We're on a tour."

The younger man would never admit it, but whenever his brother opened his mouth in those tense minutes, he pouted. Getting his way was a lot more difficult since he became an adult, and Malcolm was never one to make life easier for him. Angus though, never willingly backed down without a fight. "Sure are."

"You see the point then." Angus didn't answer. The negativity in the room brought out a yawn from his mouth, and suddenly he realized how tired he was from the day. Malcolm put a hand to his head, reaching for a glass of water. "Never eatin' that shit again."

"Well, you might have to goin' to Hannah's place." Angus stood from the couch with his drink and made a start for his room. "Trey makes seafood sometimes, his own little, 'specialty'," he said rolling his eyes.

Malcolm turned around quickly. "Trey? Who's Trey?" Angus's finger drew circles on the bottle cap.

"Uh, well..." he laughed then quickly wiped it away. Malcolm raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh, you'll meet him tomorrow," he mumbled. Angus continued on his way before Malcolm stopped him.

"Hey, Ang?"

"Yeah."

"...did you, ya' know...tell her?" Angus sighed and shook his head.

"Look, Mal. I'm not sayin' it's not true. But when you look at the facts, the chances are slim. So."

"For God's sake Ang, you're puttin' this off way longer than you need to, ain't ya'?" Angus pouted again. "Got a reason?"

"I was..." Angus racked his brain for something he carried with him from school before he made his escape. His teachers' excuse for being late to class came to mind. "...unavoidably detained." With that, he turned to his room. Malcolm turned back around as well and took a smug sip of water, the only drops left in the glass.

"You're not a fan of this Trey fella are ya'?" Angus stopped just short of his bedroom door. His hand clenched the bottle in his hand, the plastic cracking within his grasp. With a sigh he entered his bedroom and shut the door.

"...piss off."