Keeping Real - Ashton Irwin

Chapter 3

"Beep. Beep-Beep," my alarm screeched at me to get up. I groaned and turned the alarm off, not wanting to leave the comfort of my bed. Early Saturday morning fog loomed outside my window, which I knew the sun would burn off in a couple of hours. I sat up and stretched, then kicked off my pajama pants and reached for my spandex and sports bra. It was time to hit the gym.

Every Saturday morning at 7:30 I picked up Calum, my best friend and personal trainer and spent a couple hours at the gym in town. Then we usually spent the rest of the day at the beach or hung out in town. That had been our ritual since we met in 8th grade and realized how serious we both were about swimming. Between school and swim, I didn't have time to be friends with anyone accept Calum. That, and I often shyed away from most social situations.

I yawned and pulled my hair into a ponytail before grabbing a sweatshirt and pulling it over my head. Before heading downstairs, I checked on my brother.

Last night I had helped Luke upstairs, into his bed, and had stayed there until he had fallen asleep. Although to his friends he appeared to have a rock hard outer shell; made up of skinny jeans, a piercing, and his guitar, inside he was broken.

I peeked into his room, and laughed quietly. At some point in the night, he had donned his ninja-turtle pajama pants, and was snoring lightly, curled up in around his pillow. I smiled, and shut his door quietly. He caused trouble. He was a dick. But inside of him existed the brother who had written me a song when my first boyfriend dumped me. Inside of him was the daredevil that ventured closer to the edge of the cliffs when we visited the Grand Canyon. Inside of him was the boy that inspired my music taste-Nirvana, Green Day, Blink 182, Mayday Parade-all from him. Inside of him was an angel, slowly growing wings. He had been poised to take flight before it happened, we both had been. But now his flight is halted, stilted by the heat of hatred and stream of fear. It seemed that I handled my emotions better than my brother.

I glanced at my watch. 7:24. Calum would no doubt already be outside his house, waiting for me. I darted downstairs and grabbed a banana and my water bottle. I grabbed a post-it, and wrote, "Luke. Out with Calum. As always. Text me if you need anything." I checked my mother's office. Her laptop was open on her desk, a sign that she was home, probably asleep upstairs. Saturday was usually the one day that she did not work, and she spent most of the day sleeping. Her work as an engineer required traveling and long hours. I missed my mother, but her absence, once unordinary and unacceptable, was now the normal. She too, was disconnected from my life, except from my swimming progress. For my brother she did not exist, except to punish, on the rare occasion she caught him in some juvenile activity.

I laced up my sneakers and headed out of the house, ready for my day to begin. Calum lived down the street from me, and I giggled as I pulled up to his house. He had his back to my car, and his earbuds in, oblivious to my presence. He was obviously pumped up, as he was punching and kicking at some invisible foe. I sat amusedly watching him from my car for a few moments before I honked at him, which caused him to jolt, scared out of his wits. He turned around, stunned for a second before his face split into a grin.

"Ay. You didn't have to scare me, you know!" He slid into the cab of my truck, carrying his black duffel bag wiith him. His black hair stood at odd angles from his head, a mess he was constantly trying to control. He pulled out his earbuds and shut the car door.

"So I got these new strings for my guitar. You would not believe how sick they are. It's like I'm playing on a completely different guitar..." Calum could go on forever about two things-swimming and playing music. I nodded along, smiling. I loved being with Calum, he truly understood how to make me happy. When we first met back in eighth grade, everyone at school had expected us to become a couple-though to anyone who truly knew the two of us, it was apparent we were the best of friends.