Firelight

Chapter 3 - Wait

"I hate you Kyler," Riley said once the credits started, her voice slightly muffled. "I'm blaming you if I get nightmares."

Noah turned on the light and I could see an amused expression on his face as he saw Riley cowering behind me, clinging to my arm. "Wuss much?" My brother asked, a teasing tone in his voice.

She answered by flipping him off and I could see my dad smile out of the corner of my left eye. Stretching, I yawned and then checked my phone for the time. "Guys, it's 11. We should go to sleep. I need to go brush my teeth, have a shower and get rid of this hairspray and shit."

"Cool, I was just about to say the same thing," Abigail replied. "The bed and teeth thing I mean, not the shower thing. As much as I love you Kyler, we're just not on that level of friendship yet." Sending a lighthearted wink my way she  stood up and left the room. I could hear the wooden stairs creak, her ridiculous socks muffling her footsteps.

"Same here," my brother and Sawyer chimed in and after they both said goodnight, they headed upstairs. Sawyer was crashing in Noah's room, majorly because he claimed he would sleep better but also because firstly he said even though we were best friends, he was my brother's best friend first, secondly because he said that it would feel a bit weird sleeping in a room with three girls that he wasn't "involved with", his words not mine, and lastly even though my dad was a cool parent and trusted Sawyer, he still didn't like the idea of me sleeping in the same room as a guy; especially one of my brother's friends. One whose reputation Dad knew about.

My brother was a good person of course, and a good brother, but he was what some might call a bit of a jerk. Well, majorly the girls but in his words details, details.

"Goodnight Isaac," Riley said to my dad. "I hate your daughter."

"Love you too," I replied, shooting her a toothy grin. She stuck her tongue out at me and then scurried upstairs, almost as if a leviathan was chasing after her to devour her.

"How was school?" My dad asked. "Did you make anyone cry?"

"Sadly, no," I said. "But you would be pleased to know that my reputation has preceded myself. Most of the guys don't come near me; I'm too scary. Only ones that do are the types who either believe I'm harmless, or are the ones who believe they have to prove themselves/assert their position try to. I then show why most are smart and give me a wide berth in classes and hallways."

"That's good. What about what you were asking/telling me about a few days before? Any idea?" He asked me, and I shook my head in response.

"Nope. Not a clue. Still as confused as when I asked you for advice," I replied frustratedly, gripping my crispy hair that still had hairspray in it. Ew. "I wish I knew. I keep telling myself to make up my mind, that a choice needs to be made. What if I decide and everything gets destroyed? What if I make the wrong decision?"

"You shouldn't torment yourself with these thoughts and what ifs. You'll drive yourself crazy," Dad said, putting an arm on my shoulders and rubbed my arm comfortably. Although I didn't like human touch much, Dad was one of the few people allowed to hug me. Even so, he knew of my uncomfortableness when receiving such contact, and knew I could only take it in small doses. "You need to let yourself think without boundaries. The options you have made yourself are far too restrictive. You need to consider other options."

"How'd you get so wise?" I asked him, my head on his shoulder. "Most old people pretend to know what they're talking about and refuse to see otherwise. I mean, look at the person who became a politician. Stubborn as a mule."

"Experience. Lots and lots of experience. Some good, some bad. But interesting? Definitely."

I sighed. "I wish that they were here, cause maybe they'd be able to give me advice. In their own way."