Chapter Four| Brothers, Bar Brawls And Blue Eyed Boys

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CHAPTER FOUR| BROTHERS, BAR BRAWLS AND BLUE EYED BOYS




“Here.” Nolan says softly, handing a bright red mug to me. I take it from him, my hands shaking as I place the rim of the mug to my lips, taking a long sip of the hot liquid.

 As soon as it’s in my mouth I cringe noticeably before pulling the cup away from my face and shuddering in disgust. Nolan takes a seat next to me on his bed. “Well shit. I know I suck at making hot cocoa, but you could at least act like it’s good.”

 “Trust me, I was acting.” I say.

 He grabs the mug from my hands. “It can’t be that bad.” He takes a sip before shoving it back at me. “Yes it can. Oh god thats awful.” I chuckle, placing the cup on his side table.

 We lapse into a silence and I realize that this is the first time in five months that Nolan and I have acted like this with each other. Like there isn’t a piece of each of us missing. The thought makes me sad, because I miss this Nolan. I miss Nolan.

 Nolan sits next to me, his jaw clearly tense, staring at the younger versions of us on his dresser. He flinches when he notices me watching him, bringing his hand up to his eyes. He’s shielding his face from me and I burn from the inside out when I realize he’s crying.

 I, forcefully, remove his hand from his face as he resists. When I finally manage to uncover his face, I find my brother red from his silent tears. He looks so young and yet so old at the same time. His clear unhappiness makes my stomach hurt even more than before.

 “What happened?” He croaks.

 I don’t know what he’s asking about, but he doesn’t leave me questioning it for too long.

 “We used to be happy. I used to be happy.” He mutters under his breath. “Why did I do this, Sable? I ruined everything.” He brings his hands back up to his face, my fingers still wrapped around his wrist.

 “Nolan. You didn’t cause this.” It comes out less than a whisper. Nolan raises from the bed quickly, giving me no choice but to let go of him.

 “Don’t. Don’t lie to me!” “He shakes, just as I did not even thirty minutes ago. “I told him to go die! Guess what he’s doing now!”

 “You were angry when you said that, Nolan, dad knows that, dad understands that. You didn’t give him cancer though. That was not you and thats what you need to understand.”

 He stares at me from his desk, his eye glassy with tears and I wonder if he can even see me. “I made him sad. I can’t take that back. I’m never gonna be able to tell him I’m sorry.” I run my hand through my hair. “Come to the hospital with me, Nolan. You can tell him there.” It’s obvious he doesn’t like my response because as soon as it leaves my mouth he’s flipping over his desk, the papers and manilla folders flying into the wall and against his bathroom door.

 “I can’t! I can’t do that!”

 “Why not?”

 “Because, seeing him will hurt too much.”

 “And letting yourself take the blame for dad’s sickness won’t? Because I can clearly see how much it hurts you!”

 This stops him. We stare at each other until he walks out of the room. I hear the front door slam shut seconds later.

 I sit on his bed for what seems like hours but was, in reality, only minutes. I don’t know where Nolan went and that scares me mostly because I know what he does when he gets like this; he gets wasted.

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