The Jacket Snatcher

Chapter 1- First Encounters

Unfortunately, I don't usually wake up most days expecting to be kissed by a stranger. If that were a normal occurrence, then maybe I would have brushed my teeth a second time or chewed on a piece of freaking mint gum after eating that onion bagel for breakfast.

But like I said, that thought doesn't occur to me, not once as I stumble from my kitchen back to my bedroom, gathering my suitcase and collecting things from around my room like my phone charger and toiletries. I stuff said charger, a pair of headphones, an extra jacket, and my kindle into my backpack and swing it over my shoulder.

It's 3:45 in the morning, and I have to be at the airport by 4:15 to make it through security and to my flight on time. I push open the door to my brother's room and walk over to his bed, tripping on a wadded up pair of jeans as it tangles around my ankles.

"Brett? Brett, get up," I say in my sweetest voice possible, perching myself on the edge of his bed and shaking his shoulders gently. Unfortunately, it comes out as more of a croak since I haven't spoken at all this morning.

"Go away, Steph." He rolls over, turning his back to me with a huff.

"Come on. You promised you wouldn't do this when you agreed to take me. Do you really want this to be the last interaction we have before I'm gone for a whole month?"

He sighs and rolls back over. "Give me five minutes."

"You've got three," I say, ripping the comforter off of his torso and flipping on the overhead light as I walk out.

"You're so mean," I hear him whine as I go to make one more pass through my room. Hopefully I haven't forgotten anything. But, I mean, they have Walmarts or something in Australia just in case, right?

I grab one of Brett's zip-up hoodies off the hook by the door as we get ready to go. He raises his eyebrows at me, but doesn't protest to my hijacking a piece of his clothing for a month. I can only assume that he keeps his mouth shut because he understands how much I am going to miss him. Plus, it's summer here, which means he won't need it. Whereas, it'll be winter there, and I probably will.

I know he's still tweaked about the whole turning on his light thing, but still, he reaches down and hefts my suitcase for me, carrying it out of our apartment and down the stairs to his car. Even though we're twins and he's only two minutes older than me, he has always treated me like the baby.

When we were in high school, Brett was one of the jocks--a soccer player to be specific--varsity captain to be exact. His popular status along with his muscularity and overbearing, protective nature served him well in scaring away most potential boyfriends for me. Most. I still managed to squeeze in a few here and there and have some fun. Though I don't bring those up around him unless I am prepared for a half hour lecture on the teenage male mind and how all boys are scum. As patronizing and painful as these lectures are, I have come to realize that he's mostly right. Particularly after the incident a few months ago.

Internally, I wince at the memory of that night and suck in a sharp breath as the memories come crashing around me. Brett must notice my discomfort because, in a moment, I feel a slight pressure on my shoulder and look over to find him staring at me.

"You okay?" he asks, pulling onto the freeway and heading towards the airport.

"Yeah, just nervous about the trip," I lie. His eyebrows scrunch together and I know that he heard the false note in my voice. I've never been a particularly good liar, but I especially can't get anything past my twin.

He sighs and just nods his head, knowing me well enough to realize that putting up a fight to pull information out of me will only end in me shutting him out even more. I'm hardheaded, yes, but I've definitely become more closed-off since the incident. A direct-effect of my growing trust issues...or so I've been told.