As Much as You {completed}

Ezra: 18.

                 “You know the difference between promises and memories? We break promises; memories break us.” –Quote I found this morning, anonymous.

                “…it’s her hair, you know? She has such soft hair. And her laugh! She makes me laugh so much, I don’t think I’ve laughed so much—”

                Ezra let out a frustrated groan. “I don’t care, Vincent,” he snapped. “Just stop talking about her.”

                “Alright. Don’t get worked up.”

                “Well you’re annoying me.”

                “Oh, sorry. I was just talking about being happy and spending time with Jessica.”

                “Yeah,” the boy replied as he picked up some biscuits from the shelf. “I don’t care about your girlfriend. Or your whining.”

                “I wasn’t whining. I’m happy.” Vincent grumbled, kicking his feet against the tiles of the small convenience store. “You’re the one that’s whining. Is it because Carmen’s still here and you don’t want her to be? Does it frustrate you that I can remember who she is and you can’t?”

                “Shut up.” Ezra replied through gritted teeth, picking up some milk and some cheese. “Stop being a brat.”

                “Me?” The boy laughed sourly. “I’m not being the brat. You are. You’re just taking your anger out on all of us because we can remember the girl you were in love with yet you can’t remember her. You only know her name because she’s famous and we can remember her favourite foods, the old address of the apartment that you used to share, her favourite colours  and the fact that you were madly in love with her.” 

                “Look,” Ezra turned around, the shopping basket hitting his side as he did so, “it’s bad enough having her here still. And now you can’t stop talking about your stupid girlfriend and that woman! Go away.”

                Vincent slipped passed Ezra, picking up a bag of sugar. “Is it frustrating that you can’t remember nine years of your life?”

                Ezra didn’t know if his younger brother was purposely winding him up or whether he was genuinely wondering, but anger was rippling through him, and he didn’t know how much more he could take of his brother and his big mouth. “Don’t you think it’ll be frustrating to try and write at school with two broken wrists?”

                “Alright,” his brother slurred slowly. “I was just saying.”

                “Whatever,” Ezra replied, walking away towards the counter with a full basket. “I don’t care.”

                “Obviously you do…”

                Ezra ignored him, handing the basket to the woman behind the counter. This morning, since Carmen was staying for longer, Peter had demanded Ezra to go and get food. Not asked, not even politely, but demanded he’d do it. As if knowing Ezra wouldn’t. Well, she had two legs didn’t she? Why couldn’t she do it herself? He thought. He only got the essentials and enough to make meals for them for three nights, and if they ran out of food after then, well, that would mean he could shop again for his normal family. Carmen would be back home by then. God forbid, that day couldn’t come quick enough for Ezra.