Panic

4. say what

Walking through Kyle’s childhood home was like travelling backwards through a time machine. The mere sight of the hallway left me breathless as I eyed the thousands of photos lining the walls. I had never seen such beauty and love in my entire life.

The glossy images at first printed in black and white before slowly becoming painted in drizzles of colour represented the entire life of the Jackson family; starting from the beginning of Mrs and Mr Jackson’s relationship and the boys births right up till a couple of days ago when Brick celebrated his eighteenth birthday party.

“How was Bricks party?” I asked casually as I eyed the image of the two brothers smiling brightly. Despite the three year age gap they were practically identical; brown golden locks, bright blue eyes and that drop dead gorgeous smile that would send my heart beating a mile a minute.

“It was his party. His real birthday is tomorrow,” Kyle explained from behind me. “It was ‘da bomb’. His words not mine,” he laughed.

“You upset that you missed it?” I asked curiously as I turned to face him.

Thanks to the short width of the hallway we were left standing only centimetres apart. I shuffled uncomfortably under his piercing gaze, my bright locks falling across my eyes as I stared captivatingly at my comfortable canvas sneakers.

“Nah,” he answered as he slipped his thumb under my chin. Gently he lifted my gaze until it was lined with his own before continuing without hesitation. “Partying with my little brother and his eighteen year old friends isn’t really my definition of fun,” he said with a devilish smirk.

“I’m eighteen you ass,” I cried as I sent my fist colliding with his...granite hard chest? “Ow,” I screamed upon impact. The hypnotising throb that escalated from my hand shook my body to the core. “Why is your chest so hard?” I whined as I cupped my hand close to my torso.

His sudden roaring cackle took me by surprise, the shock sending me soaring no less than a metre off the ground. I felt the pain shooting down my arm before it came into contact with the wooden cabinet. That was sure to leave a mark.

“Kyle,” I screeched from down on the lush carpeted floor. Knitting my eyebrows tightly together I shot the boy a death glare, quiet the habit of mine, before a rush of profanities escaped my lips.

“I hate you,” I spat before defiantly eyeing the statue of the virtually bare man next to me.

“Scant,” his once joyous voice twisting with worry in the briefest of seconds.

I tried to blink back the tears that had begun to shine across my vision to no avail. “This is so embarrassing,” I mumbled wiping my eyes with the corner of my sleeve. 

“Don’t be silly,” he muttered as he knelt down in front of me and began to inspect the damage done to my hand in detail. “It’s just bruised,” he finally concluded.

“Just bruised?” I asked with disbelief. But it had hurt so much!

“Yeah,” he chuckled, abruptly stopping when he noticed my gaze narrow to slits. “Why don’t I go grab a bandaid for that battle wound of yours?”

“Battle wound?” I choked out in between tears and sniffles. I knew he was only trying to make me feel better but the humiliation had already sunk in. I could now be officially welcomed into the ‘wuss club’; for those individuals who like to cry over spilt milk.

He looked at me dubiously before ruffling up my hair and pulling me into his chest. Unlike his mothers hugs Kyle’s are the true definition of heaven. When he wraps you up in those strong muscled arms you can’t help but feel anything but safe.

“Am I interrupting a pity party or something?” questioned a voice that I could barely recognise.

“Brick,” I called hesitantly, slowly pulling away from Kyle’s comforting grip.

“Long time no see Hallow,” he laughed.

Ever since we first met, Brick had had this creepy and counselling-worthy addiction to call me by my tabooed last name.  At first it had made my insides boil. It was like I was his new puppy; the latest toy out on the market and I hated everyone who dared mention his name.

That was until he ended up joining us on tour throughout the summer holidays. Living with somebody twenty-four seven, seven days a week, for over six weeks allows you to see their real personalities and in a sense, their true selves. It was over this time that the bond between Brick and I really began to shine.

“Jackson,” I said dryly, yet my smile refused to stay hidden from this boy.

He was dressed in a football jersey and a pair of ripped jeans, his golden hair wet and tussled from the use of a helmet during practise no doubt. The stench of sweat filled up the room mixed with the delicious aroma of mint and spices. His lips pulled up at the corners displaying a playful grin while he held his hands out patiently.

In a matter of seconds I had jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist. “I missed you kid,” I muttered into his ear as he spun me around.

“Me too,” he whispered back pulling away so he could look me in the eye. “How was the tour?” he asked with a curious smile. “Meet any famous male celebrities?”

“A few,” I replied with a sassy grin. “How was your birthday party? Hook up with any cute girls?” I questioned.

“They spent the whole night crawling on their hands and knees begging me to give them a second glance,” he laughed as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“You player,” I accused. “There had to at least be one girl lucky enough to hook-up with the quarterback birthday boy?”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “She wasn’t able to make it.”

I smiled at him cheekily before hopping out of his embrace. “She sounds like a keeper.  Not many girls can let their man loose around all those raging hormonal females,” I commented with the slightest hint of doubt clouding my thoughts.

“What she lacks in jealousy she makes up for with wit I can assure you,” he whispered into my ear, the warmth of his breath sending tingles throughout my body.

“When will I get to meet this special someone?” I asked as I pulled him towards the kitchen.

“She’s more than just ‘special’,” he yelled with outrage as if that was the most horrendous thing that I could have ever said. “She’s beautiful, classy, smart...did I mention beautiful?” he chuckled as he roughly pushed me against the wall. “You want to know the best thing though?” he asked, his face only inches away from my own.

“W-w-what,” I stuttered, my cheeks burning furiously.

“She’s all mine.”