Every Day has a Memory

Chapter Ten

I'd expected her to hate me. "You... Ah, what?" Somehow this conversation didn't seem like it was happening.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep getting the better of me.

And she appeared to have noticed that I wasn't looking, or acting, like a normal person. But as she took a step toward me, I took an involuntary step back.

I felt really stupid.

My twin froze, only nine estimated steps in front of me. "Micah, what are you doing?" She sounded a little hurt, but also confused. "Why are you moving away from me?"

"I-I-I..." God, what was wrong with me tonight? I shook myself, and closed my eyes for a moment. "What are you doing up?" I opened my eyes again to see that she moved closer, probably out of curiosity.

"What's the matter with you?"

I don't know. "Nothing," I answered quickly. "I'm okay. What's wrong—"

"Cut the shit. Tell me what's wrong, Micah." Alicia was so demanding right now that it was like the argument between us never happened, like the two weeks' silence had never happened, because she was acting so normal. "I'm not playing any game." She sounded pissed now through her worry.

I stared at her, not sure what to say. This girl was basically my rock, even if she acted like a complete spoiled brat fifty-percent of the time, and I couldn't believe that I'd just shunted her away. For nineteen years, I had grown up alongside Alicia and she'd always been there for me—before I'd met the Brokers, before I'd met Tamsyn, even—and out of one moment of anger, I'd lost my best friend.

Why did I lash out at her again?

I didn't even have a legitimate reason.

Her green eyes bored into mine, throwing me off. I had no idea what to say anymore. I knew that I should've been telling her that I missed her, that I was sorry for being such a douche for a brother, that I was happy for her and Lachie, that I wanted her to talk to me again.

But I did none of that.

Instead, I just stepped forward, kissed her forehead, and walked away.

*

A soft knock sounded on the opposite side of the bathroom door where I was currently hiding.

I didn't want to talk to anybody right now, and since no other door in the house had a lock on it—because my Mom removed my privileges to a door for two months after my little stunt with the alcohol in the bathroom four months ago—I had resorted to stowing myself away in here, just to get peace from the rest of my family.

But none of them seemed to understand the law of privacy.

Then again, they probably thought I was doing something stupid.

"Micah, it's me."

I had a feeling it was Alicia anyway—Mom wouldn't have just knocked, she would have called at me until I answered, and Dad would have just stood on the other side and talked over and over until I responded; but Alicia just knocked once, then announced it was her, not expecting me to answer. Which I was very much thankful for.

"I brought you some food," she told me, her voice lilting in a sing-song tone, as if trying to lure me in. "I mean, it's just a crappy ham and tomato toasted sandwich but I know you like them, and I figured you hadn't eaten anything in a while so—"

My hand found the doorknob over my head, and with a sigh, I opened it to reveal my sister wearing a pair of sweats and one of Dad's jumpers. She wasn't bluffing; in her hands, she held a white saucer plate with two triangular cut halves of a ham and tomato toasted sandwich.