Broken, Flawed & Living (Discontinued)

Chapter Twenty-Three

A day and a half of sobriety and a trip down to Andrew's done it in him, reflecting how clear the effects of his behavior were. What did happen, though? I'd ask but, what would be the point? My anxious questions would break through his solitary space of recovery and instead of the truth, his patience would constrict in self-defence. All I could do was lay out hope for when the day came and when he was ready. He first needed time alone for himself, to come to terms with whatever pained him – and boy, did there seem to be a lot. All I could do, all we could do was wait and climb the days to a brighter future.

We weren't backtracking to high school. We weren't regressing back to the undeveloped maturity we had as kids. We were grown adults, still young for all the kiddie stuff – don't tell me otherwise! We'd reflect and improve on what we've done wrong before. Or could've done better. And we all could do better here if given the time for ourselves rather than always being dependant on someone else. So while I wanted to be dependent on Chance for answers of why he became the man he was, I couldn't because he wasn't entirely the man he needed to be. Tori couldn't be dependent on Chris to feel valued and worth more than what Kayla or the other girls had told her because she had always pushed herself harder than anyone else.

Just when the time hits right, everything would fall into place. Maybe not all at once, but once at a time because not everything could go as fast as we'd like. The road we were all one was like Math. And everyone knew my dislike for Math. Oh, math. How you give me problems for life.

Rolling over to the other side, I stood tall on my feet, arching my back in a concave fashion as my hands reached for the ceiling. Oh, there we go. The cracks in my backs. The stiff joints in my arms. Getting a good night's rest after everything, especially school did good for my body. Without even thinking much, I carried myself out of the room, down the stairs and stopped short in the kitchen. My eyes wandered around the space and it soon hit me what I came in here for. Though I hadn't brushed my teeth. But nobody had time for that when my stomach made a ruckus.

An unnatural ruckus, at that.

It had been last night since I ate anything – like eight hours or so. A growing young adult needed nutrients! Hydration! White bread! Stuff like hot chocolate, and without a doubt I began prepping a mug of it and a plate of two slices of white bread. If I stood questioning myself on what to eat, with Tori beside me, she'd kick my butt off to Uranus. Or worse, kill me.

Or my stomach will. Like why did it decide to bombard me with its thirst? Couldn't my body parts stop being thirsty for once in its lives? Seriously... I shuddered at the first time I saw Chance in almost his naked form. Oh, God... never again, dick. Never again.

As the mug of milk, sugar and the chocolate powder heated in the microwave, the creak of floorboards ticked from behind. When my eyes followed the start of the noise, Shane revealed himself from the side, stopping short of the entrance. His eyes on mine, tiredness wearing him. Surprised, to say the least, thought. And of course, he wore nothing but shorts.

I think it was time to get some answers here. "What's with it with you McClain men?" There had to be a reason. Why was I so curious anyway? Oh, yeah. Never mind. "You sleep in less clothes when it's minus whatever outside. And you're all half-baked bodybuilders." If I might admit, thought, Chance was a bit fluffier with his physique. Defined, yes. Strong, no doubt. Mighty attractive, hell yeah. It was just if you took Chance and stood him next to Shane you'd see the obvious difference in their muscles. Shane was more defined with his than Chance.

The more I took in his physique, the stranger I saw it. Stretch marks hadn't scarred his shoulders. Faint bruises didn't run along his sides and his chest wasn't as nice and fluffy. Interesting.