05 | small talk big thoughts

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I don't go back to the house until the sun sets and my mind stops racing

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I don't go back to the house until the sun sets and my mind stops racing. There is a good chance my dad won't want to speak to me, but I know my brother will be back by now and I come bearing an olive branch in the form of a hot dinner. My brother isn't the type to turn down free food. None of us are.

The screen door makes a shrill noise when I kick it. I wait in silence before I hear the muffled thudding of incoming steps, and then I'm greeted by Anthony's expectant face which is quick to zero in on the take-out bags in my hands.

"Is that from Keoni's?" he questions as he holds open the door for me, his nose and his stomach guiding his every move.

I step back inside the house for the second time today, scoffing as I pass by him. "As if there's anywhere else I'd get fried chicken from."

The dining table, which has been a backdrop to many arguments and disagreements over the years, becomes a safe haven once there's food on it. I drop the bags down and the sound reverberates throughout the entire room, a reminder that this home is much emptier than it used to be.

My brother rifles through the bags while I pull two glasses out of the cabinet.

"I hope you got the collard greens this time," he says when he pulls out a chair.

"Where they should go is in the trash."

"You have no taste," he rebukes with a look of disappointment.

"I and my lack of taste can take our food somewhere else," I challenge.

"You would never."

My brother is right; I would never do such a thing. If my brother lost all of his belongings in a fire tomorrow, I would empty my entire bank account for him. We joke, pass judgment, and throw jabs freely, but he's someone I trust with my life and I'll do anything for him. Even if it means getting an order of collard greens I will never touch.

"Dad said he saw Zach earlier," he grunts through a mouthful of greens.

I throw a napkin at his face. "Did he see him when he was spying on us?"

"What was he doing here? I thought he was on the Big Island?" Anthony pretends he's disinterested, but his protective nature hardens his voice with an extra layer of defensiveness.

I produce my own strained sort of grunt as my eyes flick down to the food I'm pushing around my plate. It's a bad sign when I can't even eat through my feelings. "Seems he's back."

"What did he want?" he asks.

I shrug my shoulders trying to appear less bothered by the events of the past twenty-four hours. "To come and be the good guy so he can feel better about himself? How the hell am I supposed to know why Zach does what he does anymore."

My brother hums to himself and I know he has an opinion already forming. For a moment, I contemplate asking him for it—maybe it will give me some needed clarification—but I realize sometimes I just want to forget, not work through my problems. Ignorance is bliss, even if it's temporary.

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