Oh Brother

Dinner for one

Bailey

I'm now in a much better mood then to what I was a short while ago. I checked the date on my calendar above my desk and remembered Cameron is going to be back home for a while on Saturday. Considering that it was a Thursday afternoon it wasn't far away at all, which I was thrilled about.

I had things I planned on doing after getting back from school. Instead I got home and decided to lie in my bed for what I promised myself only a little bit, and then passed out for an hour.

Ethan and I kept distance while it was just the two of us home alone. He knocked on my door at 7, I thought he must have wanted something if he was knocking instead or barging in.

"Yes?" I say looking up from my math homework under my nose.

"I'm gonna make pasta... or something, I don't know. Come downstairs." He says normally, stretching up and grabbing the top of the door frame.

"I'm not hungry-."

"Come downstairs or you die." He said, only joking around.

Ethan seemed normal tonight. He wasn't trying to scare me or mess with me because we're home alone and he can.

It was around this point that I realised he was barely functioning, because he was in fact high.

I tried to figure out the situation without him noticing and yelling at me to stop staring at him.

"Come downstairs now or in 10 minutes. Whenever, I don't care. Do what you want." He says calmly waving his hand around with his words.

He stepped away from the door and walked off. I heard his footsteps follow up by walking down the stairs.

I shut the book on my desk. That's enough for tonight, I told myself.

I was so bored, but also grateful I wasn't being teased by Ethan so I took the peace and quiet as a blessing.

"BAILEY! Cameron's on the phone!" Ethan screams loudly from downstairs.

My heart jumped. I sprung from my chair and ran out of my open door, to the stairs.

Once I reached the bottom I walked fastly to the kitchen to see Ethan standing at the bench.

"Where's the phone?" I ask, confused.

"Oh I was just kidding, I knew that would get you down here." He smirked.

I frowned with disappointment.

"Dinners nearly ready." He says, as he puts his back to me to change his attention to what he was cooking.

Everything about this was confusing. Ethan cooked occasionally for himself and only sometimes for anyone else. Grayson was the one who would cook if Mom didn't give money for pizza. I stopped cooking for anyone other then me after Ethan complained about something each time.

And it was a Thursday night. The night before a game Ethan ate either a salad or just had a protein shake. This was something that Grayson had influenced him to do, and they did it together on Thursdays; so pasta for dinner didn't make sense.

A plate of Spaghetti slid across the table from Ethan's grip to in front of me at the table.

"Thanks." I mumble.

I didn't mean to be ungratefully mumbling, I just didn't know how to react to my brother making dinner for me out of no where.

Once Ethan and I were arguing which lead to a wrestling match on the carpeted floor of our lounge room and he punched me in the eye really hard on accident. He felt so bad that he made me a huge icecream sundae after we had dinner that night, but he never told me he was sorry.