My Older Brothers

44

When I saw Riley and Sam together, I didn't really know how to feel. There were lots of emotions, kinda like when I'm at one of Martin's soccer games or in completions where the other teams were catching up to mine and we're not gaining any points to make up for it.

It felt like losing. I don't like losing, that's why I work so hard to win. I don't like it when people tell me "You did your best" or "It's okay" because it's not true.

I didn't want to look like a creep staring at them, so before me and Oliver could get noticed, we stood up and just walked away. Casually, like nothing happened, like I didn't just see my enemy kissing someone who I really liked.

Sam seemed like a nice guy. I thought we were friends. Is Riley the reason he hasn't been texting me back? Did he even know that I knew her?

Oliver and I walked to our bikes and got on, not saying a word. I don't know why he's quiet. I wouldn't mind if he started blabbing on again about football.

I don't like showing people I'm upset. If something bothers me, I put it to the back of my head and forget about it. It's not that hard if you really try.

"So, Oliver, where are we going?" I say.

I'm riding my bike with no hands as I fix my pony tail. I enjoy riding my bike with no hands. It makes me feel cool.

It probably doesn't look cool, though.

"I don't know." He shrugged.

"Man, you're a real good thinker." I say sarcastically.

He laughs. "I can be helpful sometimes."

"Do you have any hobbies?" I ask.

Come to think of it, Oliver and I haven't really met before the library. We don't really know anything about each other.

"Yeah, I like watching movies and eating junk food." He says.

"You can't count that as a hobby," I say.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Because it's just being lazy." I say.

"Being lazy is a hobby. Lots of people do it in their spare time." Oliver says.

"I meant like sports, maybe even reading, baking, anything but being lazy." I say.

"Well, I used to play baseball." He says.

"Really?" I ask, interested

He nods. "Yeah, I really liked it. I was a pitcher."

"Why don't you play anymore?" I ask.

"I dislocated my pitching arm two years ago. I couldn't play for a while and when I could, I just didn't." He says, running his hand through his blonde hair.

"You just gave up?" I ask.

"I mean, I wouldn't put it that way, but I guess. More like I lost my love for the sport. I was just really frustrated with everything and the thought of playing baseball again just made me angry." He says.

"You should play again." I say.

He shakes his head. "I don't think it'll be the same."

"How do you know?" I ask.

"I just do." He says.

We're now in a neighborhood. It looks nice, basically like every neighborhood in our town. Not a pretty populated place. We're just riding and looking around.

Telling each other what house we think looks the best. I remind Oliver not to point at them. The houses just keep getting better as we go until we see this one house.