troubled | e.d.

thirty-eight

tessa

ethan's car always smells like a mixture of new leather and black ice air freshener.

i was told by a high school friend never to trust a guy with a black ice tree hanging from his mirror, but i'm willing to let this one slide.

i whistle, opening his passenger side door and sliding in to check the center console. i rifle around in some napkins, ibuprofen, chapstick, and widen my eyes when i brush past a couple of condoms. i didn't know guys carried those around.

sighing, i pull open the glove box and a small, white envelope flutters out.

i pick it up off the floor with furrowed eyebrows and notice how it's not sealed, just a piece of paper stuffed in it. there's nothing on the outside of the envelope, which only makes my nancy drew instincts more curious.

checking to make sure no one is coming out of the house, i pull the folded up lined paper from the envelope and squint to read it in the dimming light.

cameron,

i know you're probably already planning on throwing this letter away, but please don't. please read what i have to say, even if it's the last thing you ever hear from me. so just open your mind and remember that i'm your brother and i love you.

so... heard you met tessa in an unexpected home visit. she's a little firecracker, isn't she? i love that about her. remember when i used to tell you all about my love life? or lack thereof, honestly. remember how that used to be a thing we did? we were best friends. i had no one to call and be excited to when i started dating tessa. you would've been my first dial.

i feel my heart drop at his words, but i just can't stop myself from reading. i know it's wrong and he'd probably be so pissed, but i need to see this.

remember the days when we'd go to the river behind our house and you'd give me 20 bucks to dive in from the big rocks? i got a concussion THREE TIMES but i never once said no. you took my daredevil personality to your advantage quite often, and those are memories i'll never forget. the hospital trips at 3 am with grayson and i bleeding out our heads in the back were always interesting.

i laugh at that and continue reading.

and remember the times when we would have brother sister bonding days that grayson always made excuses to get out of? mom would force us out of the house with money in hand and make you drive me to the mall so we could have mandatory sibling time. you always got mad at me when i embarrassed you in front of your friends outside the movie theatre, but i think we both look back fondly on those days.

the first night i got busted for trespassing, you were the first person i called from that stupid juvenile detention holding center. you broke the news to mom and dad and drove them to get me out. i'll be forever grateful for that. you somehow convinced mom to not send me to that school for troubled teens— aka boot camp. and when i got busted again and again, you were always there for me.

i think that was our thing. our sibling promise.

we'd always be there for each other and help the other out in a time of crisis.

love you, cam.
ethan

yes, i'll admit it.
my eyes are watering by the end of the letter.

"he's not going to send this, is he?" i whisper to myself breathlessly.

with shaky hands and minimal regret, i shove the envelope in the waist of my jeans and pull my crewneck over it.

i grab the envelope i actually need from the glovebox and shut it forcefully, scrambling to get out of the car. my fingers are still trembling by the time i make it back inside and meet them in the living room, where i toss my dad the thing he needs.

"thank you, honey," he mumbles and begins to tear it open.

"find it okay?" ethan asks.

nodding, i say, "yep. found it perfectly fine."

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

the drive to the post office was filled with me trying to convince myself that this is an invasion of privacy, and another part of me screaming that if i don't do this i'll regret it.

i memorized cameron's address from the time i drove to her apartment, and wrote it in careful lettering on the outside, along with a stamp.

when i roll up to the blue mailboxes, i pull down my sunglasses and grasp the envelope from my passenger seat.

"do your thing, god," i whisper with my eyes shut right before shoving it into the open slot.

i take a deep breath when i hear it hit the bottom, and relax in my seat.

now it's just a matter of time.