Four All The Wrong Reasons (bxb)

<One>

Miranda was touching me. I hated being touched, but Miranda never heeded much attention to this disdain. We stood out in the driveway together as a familiar vehicle pulled in. The mid-October weather was virtually unbearable, yet the scorching heat of the high noon sun beating down on my shoulders had nothing on the sweltering feeling of my mother's fingers locked around my bare wrist. She held me in an ironclad grip, as if afraid I'd make a mad dash for it if given the opportunity (I would). Although running away would most definitely be filed amongst the least alarming things I'd done this past year, hence why I was even in this predicament.

I lived by one principle. Each person was assigned at birth a quota of fortune they are allowed to experience in their lifetime. If you manage to blow through your fortune too quickly the only way it could be replenished was by a trade. Your most beautiful memory for one fowl, unforgiving and inescapable. I tried on multiple occasions to shake myself of this paranoid, morose, way of thinking. But this pattern was a tried and true one I'd pieced together since early childhood. Solidified by the events of the night where I'd sat trembling for hours in a holding cell, blood under my fingernails despite my best efforts to clean them. All the good had already passed and the bad was ready to settle. I just hadn't realized yet how monstrous my trade would be.

All my belongings, though there were few, were boxed away and ready to be loaded into back of the truck my uncle was currently stepping out of. I was about to pull free from Mirandas grasp to get started when all of a sudden, a whole new pair of hands were on me. Hugging me. Strong tan arms wound around my shoulders and a slightly stubbly chin pressed firmly into the top of my head.

"Kell!" my uncle Vik exclaimed, pulling back to look me up and down as if he hadn't seen me in ages. "You've grown so much." Well, now that I thought about it maybe it has been quite a while since I'd seen any extended family members. If they didn't want to be associated with me before they definitely wouldn't now.

I forcibly stretched my lips into a smile, trying discreetly to shake him off. Miranda still held fast to my wrist and I couldn't stomach multiple people touching me at once. Family or not. "As far as I can tell I still look the same."

Vik graced me with two sure strikes to the back. "No, no, you've matured. It's all in the eyes."

Miranda tugged me back then, much to my relief, to take my place in Vik's grasp. I allowed the smile to fall from my face once they were focused on one another. Lowering my eyes lest my uncle recognize something other than maturity in them.

"Vikky" Miranda cooed at the man, swaying their bodies from side to side.

"Sis" He welcomed her sappy embrace.

"Sorry again to be shoving him off on you so suddenly, there aren't any more rooms in the dorms since he's enrolling so late." She said stepping back.

Vik ran his hands through his hair, the dark curls reaching just past the tips of his ears. He and Miranda looked a lot alike structure wise, all soft edged with a surplus in the height department. The same warm and welcoming brown eyes with a gentle spray of freckles across lowly bridged noses. Their colorings were where the differences began. Vik took after their mother in having an olive undertone whereas Miranda took their fathers more earthy brown complexion.

"No need for apologies, Kell and I never really get to spend any time together anyway. It'll be nice to have some company at home. "

"You tried to kill me once." I deadpanned, earning a pinch from Miranda as well as her fingers reattaching themselves to my wrist.

"I didn't know you were allergic to strawberries back then." Vic shook his head laughing at the memory as if the near death of his infant nephew was hilarious to him.