Staying Grounded [BXB]

Bittersweet

CRAIG:

Alex is waiting for me when I arrive home. Sat behind the wheel of his mum's Civic, parked up on the roadside. And he's springing from the car into action the instant he spots Roxy's approach.

Clicking my fob for the gates, I cruise straight past him onto the drive. I'm barely given a chance to unfasten my seatbelt, though, before he yanks my door wide.

"Get out," he barks. "Get the fuck out right now, bro!"

Every last vital part of me shrivels at the look on his face.

I've acknowledged the chance that he might react this way — obviously — but confronted by it now, I realise I never truly believed he would. "Al, please," I don't know what else to say.

When I don't move fast enough, he reaches in to grab a fistful of my shirt and forcibly drags me from my seat. I'm terrified.

He's terrifying.

"You absolute moron!" Alex is proving himself to be much more Dad's son than I gave him credit for. "Have you any idea how badly I want to kill you right now?"

I can make a fair estimation. "Y-yes."

Except...

Except, as I stumble out onto the unforgiving driveway and struggle to get my feet beneath me, he helps me steady.

And as I try to force some safe space between us, he pulls me in close.

Then, his arms are around me, his hand pounding my back. "Have you any fucking clue how long I've been waiting for you to tell me?"

I'm so confused. "What?"

My brother hasn't ever hugged me before. Although, I'm not remotely convinced a hug is even what this is.

He still sounds so angry. He's crushing my ribs and jolting my spine. "Only for you to go and do it by voicemail?"

"I... Is this... Are you—?"

"Voicemail?! Like, seriously, bro, what the actual hell? As if it's not insulting enough that I'm the last in line!"

"Back up, Al, hey," I wheeze, pushing against his hold. "Back up! What?"

I'm finally released, and he puts a single step between us. I catch my breath, only for him to immediately slam it out of me again with a fist to my chest. Another move I didn't see coming. Staggering into Roxy, I seize her open door to keep me upright and shield myself behind it.

"You're drunk?" He asks in a way that's more an accusation than a question.

I have enough of my senses intact to take offence. "I'm not. Are you?"

A snort escapes him, and from one moment to the next — in the bewildered blink of my eye — a grin I didn't think his face capable of splits wide. "Well, at least there's that, I suppose," he almost laughs. "Come on then, bro, I'll help you pack up your shit."

Alex doesn't wait for me before turning away, starting for the house. I've made zero progress on collecting myself together by the time he reaches the front door and makes a show of rapping his knuckles off it. For a heart-stopping instant, I wonder if Mum and Dad could've possibly beaten me back.

But, no. They were still in the Principal's office when I left, and I've pretty much floored it home.It's with great hesitation that I straighten up from the car door and shut it. My pace is reserved as I cross the drive. "Pack up?" I ask.