Chameleons

(45) Alexi - The Dramas of the Orso family

“They caught me smoking,” Charles said cockily. “You’d think it wasn’t a free country.”

“Charles,” I groaned, “you’re not sixteen – it’s illegal for you to smoke. How did you even get cigarettes?”

“I used your provisional licence as ID to buy a guy alcohol.”

“Charles, that’s fucking fraud!” I yelled, indignant that he had used my ID. How had he gotten hold of it?

“No one caught me,” Charles replied arrogantly.

“You know what? If you land yourself in jail one day, I’m not bailing you out. Give me back my provisional.”

Charles rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. A few minutes later he returned and handed me back the green card with my photo and details on it.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” I muttered.

“Like you were the perfect schoolboy after Mum died,” Charles shot back. “At least I never did drugs!”

His response stung. I remembered all too well those days of apathy, when school had barely been a distraction from my grief, when the once promising Head Boy had started coming into school late for no good reason (and on other days I had even played truant), breaking uniform regulations and smoking cigarettes at lunchtime, until my title had been revoked and handed to another prefect. Once I had almost crashed my car on purpose simply because everything inside me had been so mixed up.  During that period of my life I had barely acknowledged my brothers, who had also been hurting. I had been selfish and I wasn’t proud of it.  

“Look, I know Mum’s death hit us all hard,” I said. “And I made a lot of mistakes.” Understatement of the century. “But there are people who care about us. And they’re the ones we have to live for and live for in a way that isn’t damaging to ourselves or others. I’m sorry you two are at boarding school – I did try to stop Dad from sending you there. But please, don’t mess your life up. Imagine how much it would hurt Mum to see you like this.”

Charles cringed. Looking at the floor, he murmured “I miss her, Lex.”

“Me too,” I said softly. I wanted to hug my brother but I sensed that it wouldn’t be appreciated. Before Mum’s death we had been so close. But I had pushed my brothers away when they had needed me most and now something was broken in our relationships. Charles, in particular, had withdrawn behind a tall, spiked fence and he rarely came out from behind it for anyone.

“How’s Gregor?” I asked, almost afraid to ask. He was the most sensitive of us, the least able to stand up for himself.

“Gregor gets bullied. And I step in when I can but, fuck, Alexi, I can’t be there all the time. He gets beaten up. He’s having counselling for panic attacks because he’s constantly paranoid that the bullies will go for him.”

“Shit,” I said, my gut wrenching. I felt so guilty, so much like I had abandoned him and Charles. Once I had sorted out the issue with the crazy scientists at HQ, I really needed to work on helping them fix their own broken lives.

“He…” Charles swallowed hard. “There was one time he cut himself. On purpose.”

“Fuck. Does Aunt Mel know?”

“No, I won’t do that to him. But I told him he had to stop or I would tell. I don’t think he’s done it since. Alexi, he’s down all the time. He needs to change schools…” Charles gulped again, looking pale. “I’m scared that one day he’ll try to top himself. Aunt Mel wants him to go to the secondary school she’s sending Amanda to next year. But Dad’s paying our school fees.” Charles ran a hand through his hair, dishevelling it, looking stressed. “I smoke to be able to deal with it. The way I saw it was smoke or start getting violent with people. I don’t want to be a danger to my mates, or to Gregor.”

“Shit.” The word felt pathetic and useless. I felt pathetic and useless. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been there for you guys.”

Charles shrugged.

“What can you do? Anyway, what’s the deal? Why are you up here in Scotland?”

I explained. At the end of it, Charles looked furious.

“Those sick bastards! And Dad’s a part of it?! I swear I’m going to kill him when I next see him. I know his heart went cold when Mum died but this?! This is madness!

“Can I come with you?”

“Charles, I’d love to take you with me, mate, but you don’t have any training.” Charles looked like he was about to yell at me so I hastily added “Besides, you could help Gran and Grandpa protect Fiora and Chester. That would be helpful. Why don’t we ask them and Aunt Mel if you can stay here and help keep watch?”

“Fine,” Charles grumbled. “Will you at least persuade Gran and Grandpa to let me have a weapon?”

I sighed. In his position, I would have asked exactly the same thing. But I was meant to be the responsible older brother. Still, I hated the idea of Charles being vulnerable and defenceless.

“All right,” I relented. “Just one.”

Charles grinned.

“You are the best big brother ever.”

“I’m really not.” ‘If I were, you and Gregor wouldn’t be in this mess,’ I added mentally.

We walked into the dining room where chairs had been added to the dining table to accommodate Chester, Fiora and me. Gran and Grandpa, Uncle Stanley and Aunt Mel, and our cousin Amanda were also in the room. Amanda was chatting happily with Fiora. Gran saw us and stood up.  

“Right, I’ll go get the food.”

“Need any help?” Aunt Mel asked.

“No, no, I’m a little way off needing help with everything, dear,” she said.

Aunt Mel smiled.

Charles and I sat down at the table, me in a chair next to Fiora which had been left empty – deliberately? I took her hand inconspicuously and squeezed it reassuringly.

“You should be safe here.”

Fiora frowned slightly – perhaps noticing my exclusion of myself from that sentence. But she didn’t comment on it and instead said “Thanks so much for everything you’ve done.”

Chester noticed us talking to each other and glared at me. So he was expecting me not to talk to his sister at all now, was he?  

I ignored him and replied “It was the only thing to do.”