troubled | e.d.

forty-one

ethan

my mom is with no doubt about to breakdown at the drop of a pin as she shakily folds my laundry on my bed.

not being able to take it anymore, i trudge out to the kitchen where grayson is preparing a frozen pizza from my freezer, mumbling under his breath.

"hey," i say, but it's not loud enough. he keeps bustling around, messing with the oven controls.

this time i clear my throat. "hey."

his head snaps up, and his eyes travel to me. he stands up from his crouched position and leans against the counter.

"hey. where's mom?"

i motion my head back to my room. "another breakdown."

he chuckles lightly, ducking his head and wiping some crumbs off the counter. "i mean, can you blame her? this is scary stuff."

"i know," i whisper.

we share a long look. it's weird looking at someone that is a direct replica of me, yet we're so... opposite. grayson— the momma's boy, and me— whatever the hell i am now.

"oh by the way," my brother says, breaking the silence as he grabs my wallet from the granite. he opens it and pulls out a small, white rectangle.

"who's this?"

i can't help but crack a smile at the polaroid picture that tessa took one afternoon over lunch. she keeps a polaroid camera in her car for some reason, and took it with minimal warning.

in it, she's in the driver's seat of her mini cooper, holding out the camera with an excited, happy face. i'm mid-laugh, about to shove another spoonful of my red raspberry tropical sno in my mouth.

"snooping?" i reply, raising an eyebrow.

"wanted to see your new id and this fell out."

"yeah," i reach out with a small smile, taking it from between his fingers and looking down at it. "have i never told you about tessa?"

"tessa?"

"guess not, then."

"is she your..." he trails off with a couple random hand motions.

"yes, why's everyone so surprised? even cameron said—"

"wait, you talked to cameron?" he interjects.

"no," i say quietly. "tessa did."

he's quiet for a moment.
"she still not wanting to speak up?"

"nope," i shake my head.

one thing about grayson is that he's never really had a good relationship with cameron. cameron was my favorite, i was hers, and grayson was kind of just... there.

so it's safe to say he doesn't really like cameron anymore, after this whole thing.
they don't talk.

i don't know how much of my story he believes, but for the most part he's always been on my side. my mom, on the other hand, loved david and had a hard time accepting that he wasn't the person she thought he was.

"so," he says, motioning to the picture in my hands again. "how long have you two been dating?"

i wrinkle my nose, trying to remember. "not long. we met at the very beginning of june, and started dating sometime in july."

"so it's not serious?"

i blink, trying not to be too offended since his tone is genuine. "no... i'd say it's getting pretty serious."

"how old is she?" he asks, squinting at the photo.

"18. is this 20 questions?"

"relax," he laughs out lightly. "just asking questions."

"oh," i reply. "well... i think you'd like her."

"really?" he hums, starting to wipe off my counter with a damp rag.

"yeah. she's a lot like you."

his hand stops and he stares down at the counter. "thought that's why we don't talk."

i furrow my eyebrows. "what?"

"you like her... and she's like me. so why do you want to spend time with her but not me?" grayson asks, meeting my eyes.

i've never heard him like this. his tone isn't matter-of-fact or confident. it's sad.

"w-what are you talking about?"

"when we were kids all you wanted to do was hang out with cameron," he says quietly, shaking his head a little as if he's remembering something. "and we never had the twin bond mom and dad wanted us to have."

"you never really seemed like you wanted to be even related to me..? you always acted too good for cameron and i," i say back.

"oh that's some bullshit, ethan."

"no, it's not. you were consumed with school, sports, extracurriculars, and the girlfriend you're practically married to," i spit back.

"because you never gave me a chance when we were young! even the days we spent in the little seashell sandbox you always resented me, ethan."

"that's not true."

"yes it is," he insists, throwing the rag across the counter distastefully. "you're just too hard headed to notice. i wonder how tessa deals with that."

"she doesn't judge me like you do, grayson!" i practically yell. "she's the one person in my life who i've never gotten an ounce of judgement from!"

"i just don't want you to enter that court room resenting me and possibly not come back home," he yells back, voice breaking in the middle.

i let my angered face relax.

"because that would make me the worlds worst brother, man," he says weakly. "not having a good relationship with my twin, then watching him be put in handcuffs?"

my breathing feels slowed and manual as i realize i've never really thought about how this could affect my family, whether they choose to love me or have to love me.

"don't walk away from me in a prison uniform, ethan," he whispers almost pleadingly.

i've never seen him like this.

with no more words said, i bring him into a tight, brotherly embrace.

i don't think i've hugged him since we were ten years old and our mom made us make up from a fight, but it feels nice. his strong hold mixed with mine, and the couple claps on each other's back almost breaks me down. the weight of this entire year has been so much, and i don't think i realized how in over my head i've been.

"i'm not going anywhere," i promise over his shoulder, hoping that it's true.

i feel him nod and take a deep breath.