Love in a Touchdown

Chapter 4

My hands drummed on the steering wheel as I drove us to our favorite ice cream place, trying to focus on the sound of the music and not my own heartbeat. Saying the silence was awkward would be a massive understatement. I wish we could have taken my motorcycle, the wind on my body brought me shear peace and was the only time my mind was quiet besides the field. However, my mom refused to let me ride on it with Dustin. I understood the severity of why. I mean, worse case scenario, I got into an accident and died. Boom! She would lose us both in one foul swoop. It was different for me, because I was old enough to put my life in my own hands. Especially considering all the other shit I've been through I doubt a motorcycle accident would even kill me. For some reason a lot of the times I should have died growing up I conveniently never did. But I couldn't ride with Dustin, not her little boy. Besides, it is not like she left me in the hands of her husband at times; she had no say in what risks I chose to take. She lost that right when she watched and didn't help until I was knocking on death's front door. I love her, and she will always be my mom, but I think as soon as she saw how bad his temper was towards me: I became less valued to her than Dustin. I was a means to an end. She had to choose whether to risk Dustin by intervening. If his anger was directed at me she wouldn't feel like a failure at least towards one of her kids. Also, my value was so minimal growing up anyway. I was a girl. That posed a lot of frustration and regret.

I don't blame her for falling in love with her high school sweetheart. I don't have blame towards my mother for trying to survive, it was not her fault. How do you even get out of a situation like that? She did all she could. Especially, when her plan to finally leave and take us with her was discovered by him. I was just wishing that my past didn't affect my family so bad. That our past wasn't so traumatic. My PTSD had made them struggle more. Seeing the broken pieces and aftermath I dealt with made them have some sort of a complex. Regret. Being upset that I took the brunt of the damage. 

As sad as that is to say, I love my bike; it is my saving grace in moments like these. It isn't just my adrenaline that comes to life when I ride. It is the freedom I feel. That I can escape and run as fast as I need to. It was something taken away from me for so long. Freedom. Escape. The wind in your hair, the feel of the cold helmet on your cheeks. This is what I live for. My mom was adamant on me getting one for so long, but with everything that happened, she abandoned her refusal. I still had to fight and persuade but once she saw how desperate I was. She caved. Almost like she knew it was something I needed. I never said my coping mechanisms were healthy but they worked? And you know what they say: 'If it ain't broke don't fix it.'

I wanted to go to Frogg's Ice cream which was about a thirty minute drive from our house. Sure, there were ice cream places where we lived, but none of them came close to Frogg's. It was the best soft-serve ice cream around, and definitely worth the drive. You definitely get your money's worth and if you get Frogg-In-A-Blender it comes with ALL the fixings. It was more toppings than it was ice cream! Plus, I wanted to pick his favorite, considering what I had to tell him. Then I remembered we weren't necessarily in the season for ice cream. So, we couldn't go there because they had already closed for winter. Nevertheless, I went with one of the next best choices, Baskin Robbins. Not ideal, but sometimes ice cream is ice cream.

He was quiet on the way, his eyes never leaving the window. I gulped down the guilt that had lodged itself in my throat. He was a shy and silent child. More of a listen and observe than speak child. My little baby bro: he didn't deserve any of the crap his life had already given him. If anything, I'm glad I could protect him like I did. Sure, it hurt like hell to get used as a constant punching bag, and I have way more scars than I would ever be likely to admit. But, I'd do it over and over again if it meant not a hair on my brother's head was affected. I protected him from the physical pain in hopes that I could help resolve the mental pain later. We were working on it. He would probably never be the care-free kid his classmates would get to be. He wouldn't ever stop looking for the other shoe to drop. For the day when he would be able to do something again. The fear would always be there until he was six feet under. 

I pulled into the parking lot and found a spot near the front. I don't know who seemed more on edge, him or me. He always could sense my feelings. He played off my energy like a fiddle. We entered the shop and heard the familiar sound of the bell at the door. Instantly, I smelled the delicious scent of the waffle cones and the bright tubs of ice cream calling my name. 

"Dustin, get whatever you want, my treat," I said as the girl looked up at us expectantly. The shock wasn't hidden behind the pools of his chocolate eyes. Normally, we each pay for our own, we get large amounts of money for our allowances. It was kind of an unspoken rule between us. So much money that we literally couldn't spend it as fast as we got it. 

 He just nodded and instructed the girl what to get him. He gets his usual, Rocky Road, 2 scoops in a waffle cone. I stick with my favorite, a pure classic, chocolate chip cookie dough. I have a huge sweet tooth so I get the biggest size possible. It is a good thing I work out because I am one of those girls that always has candy on hand. Literally. My truck has some. My bedside table has some. My school locker has some. I am LOADED in more ways than one.

So, you are probably wondering how my family has so much money. Well, my mom is the current CEO for a multi-billion dollar corporation. When my "dad" was still in the picture, they built it up from the ground. Now, she does it all herself and she kills the business. While she is fragile at home, she is power and authority as soon as she puts on one of her business pant suits. She travels a lot to keep her business contacts pleased. I love her, but I wish she would focus more on her own health and children, especially now. It just goes to show that a rich family isn't always a happy one. I get that making money is important but when you choose that over your family or are gone so much that they feel alone more often than not? Prioritizing family is something my mother was never good at. Now that the sperm donor is gone... well, she does it even more. I think she can't stand to look at us without feeling shame and guilt. So, instead, me and Dustin are on our own. We take care of each other.

We sat down at a little table with two pink chairs directly across from each other.

"Why did you bring me here?" Dustin wasn't one for beating around the bush; when he wanted answers he got them. It awed me how much he was like Mom in that aspect. Always strictly business and to the point.

I sighed, it was time to cut to the chase. I go to open my mouth but the ring of the door chains and the shouting it accompanied stopped me in my tracks. "Hey Andy! What's up little man!" Of course, leave it to Tanner to present himself at the most awkward timing. Tanner is one of "dumb jock" stereotypes, but plays hockey instead of football. He gives Dustin a small noogie.  "Nice game yesterday, even though you lost. The way you took out the player was incredible. I've never seen someone so shocked to get punched in the face! He wasn't expecting you to lay your hands on him!" My gaze fell as I avoided eye contact with my brother and my shoulders slumped. He was supposed to hear it from me.

Finally I was forced to look up when my brother spoke, his words shaky. "Sis, you promised. You told me you'd never raise your hand again..." He trailed off as he attempted to keep his tears at bay, but to no avail. "I thought you were better than him!" He shouted as he stormed out of the shop ice cream forgotten and abandoned. My heart had officially fallen out and landed on the table. 

Tanner, being too naive to realize what just happened, just went to order his ice cream cheerfully. Missing no chance to flirt with the employee. "Idiot," I muttered under my breath as I sprinted out to find my brother no longer in the mood for ANYTHING sweet.

I looked up and down the street, trying to piece together any generalization of where he could be. I had officially lost him, and this time it wasn't just physically. I decided to call Olive, for her help, figuring four eyes are better than two. He couldn't have gotten far, but when he was determined and pissed, like he was now: he would be gone. Afterwards, I ran down the street to my right, considering it was the direction I saw Dustin run. I can't lose him, not again. The memory flooded my brain before I could stop it.