Step of Faith

Chapter XXII: Little sister

He never had to stay up until he could barely hold his eyes open just to revise for a test. He never had to take extra classes so he could get that perfect score. He just had to exist, they saw him either way.

And as much as I loved my brother I had the moments where all I could do was hate his guts. I hated that he was seen and I wasn't. I hated that they loved him and not me. And most of all I hated how much he loved me. Because by loving me my dad turned on him for lashing out at them. And it was always the same thing.

Dad says something nasty about me or doesn't acknowledge my existence and Spencer blows up. My dad never got why he got so defensive about it. But mom realized, she realized her wrongdoing. And that hurt more than them being oblivious.

Because eventually when you realize what you've done wrong you start to apologize by making it up to them. You can't make up lost time. You can't make it up to someone when all their life they've thought that they didn't deserve love. You can't make up shit to a child you neglected for years.

Mom tried. She really did. And then Spencer died. She stopped trying after that. She stopped a lot of things after it. But I get it, it's hard for a mother to bury their child before them. It's hard to know you've now lost two children instead of one. I was here physically but not emotionally. I forgave her but I never forgot.

The remainder of my day was very calm. I sat through psychology and made more notes than I have in all four years of learning here. Then I sat through French and almost fell asleep. Not surprising considering the teacher's voice is a monotone lullaby for sleep-deprived students.

After she finished blabbering about the difference between spelling and speaking I packed up all of my things and tried to leave as fast as possible. As soon as the fresh air hit my nostrils I sighed. I started walking to my car when I heard my name being called.

No.

There was no way.

I hadn't heard that voice in five years.

I turned around faster than I could say my name. And there she was. Long blonde hair, grey eyes, and the stupidly sweet smile painted on her lips. A tear slipped my eye.

"Claire," I breathed before I ran to her and jumped into her arms.

"Hey, little bee," Claire engulfed me in a tight hug.

I hadn't seen my brother's wife since the funeral. I hadn't seen my favorite person since I lost my brother.

"How are you here?" I pulled back my hands still on her shoulders.

"I missed my baby sister, I needed to see how you were and calling seemed stupid, so I came," she brushed my hair behind my ears.

"I missed you too. I'm sorry I didn't call, I just-" She cut me off.

"I understand. There is no need to explain. It was hard on all of us, we needed to cope and each one of us did it our own way," Her smile was contagious.

"I was heading home, you want to join me?" I pointed at my car.

"You have a house?" She looked surprised.

"Well, not exactly," I chuckled.

Both of us got into my car and the drive wasn't uncomfortable at all. It was like we never lost contact. It felt natural and like a piece of me that was missing had been put back in place. Claire had always been family.

She wasn't blood but she might as well have been. She had always been like a sister. Spencer couldn't make it to my competition? Claire was there. Spencer couldn't drive me somewhere? Claire did. Spencer couldn't chaperone for me to fly out to Boston? Claire immediately agreed.