Started With a Lie

Chapter Twenty

         “You too,” Brent says with suspicious eyes. He turns his head back to me. “You want to explain how you got to be friends with some twenty-year old guys? They could be secret sex offenders for all we know.” He goes back to his coffee, prying his hand away from Mark. “Where’s Mom?”

               I feel cold sweat on my back. I should’ve told him before. He’s going to kill me, now. “They’re not sex offenders,” I say, adding in a fake laugh at the end to make it sound comedic. “Meeting them is a long story.”

       “Like maybe saying you’re a couple with one of them?” Brent asks, his eyes twinkling. He knows he’s hit the jackpot.

                   “H-how’d you know?” I ask, hiding my open mouth behind my mug.

                  “You really aren’t the brightest fish in the sea,” Brent mutters. “There’s something called the internet. News. Media. Ever heard of it? What the hell happened that you randomly got boyfriend-girlfriend with a frickin’ world class billionaire?”

          I stare down at my coffee. I can’t tell him this either. Not with Mark in the room. He can’t know. He’s not supposed to know. In the contract—the one I’ve almost forgotten of—it said that I couldn’t tell anyone outside of people Lee and I both agree on. It kills to keep a secret from my brother. “We were in love,” I whisper.

               Brent looks taken back. “Really, now?” His eyes flicker down. He’s confused. He knows I haven’t dated ever since the Karen-Peter incident. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here, then. College is tight.”

           I feel guilty. He feels guilty for not being here and yet I’m the one who’s been hiding so much from him. For forgetting him.

                 “Does Mom approve of Lee?”  Brent asks. Why is he making this so hard?

               “Well, we’re not really together right now,” I say, which is true. I see Lee fidget in his seat and turn away. Coward. Mark has no reaction. He’s just staring at his coffee and drinking it. I don’t know what to feel.

             “Ivory. Where. Is. Mom?” Brent asks. He’s caught on completely.

             “Er, she’s, um,” I stutter. Brent’s eyes are storming, trying to decipher what I’m hiding—what I’m not telling him. I can’t go on anymore. “She’s in the hospital.” My voice barely passes a whisper, I bet.

               “She’s what?” Instead of sounding angry, Brent sounds broken. It hurts even more.

             Lee nudges Mark and whispers something incoherent before they both leave and go sit in the living room. I silently thank them for the privacy, but it doesn’t help. Brent’s up and walking around the kitchen—back and forth, back and forth. It’s scaring me.

         “What happened?” he demands.

            Tears streak my cheeks as I explain the accident, what happened, what kind of condition she’s in right now. I tell him everything. How much it hurts. How much I miss her already. Brent listens. He pats my back. He hugs me. I haven’t showered since Mom’s accident. I smell, but he still hugs me. I’m dirty and I’m the worst sister, but he still loves me.

               “Why didn’t you call me?” is all he whispers.

                “I’m sorry,” I cry. I think he understands through my sobs. “I forgot. Mom. I thought she was dying. I didn’t know what to do. I was lost. I’m sorry, Brent. I’m really sorry.”

           Brent just holds me. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I came today because your birthday is coming up. I’m sorry I didn’t check up on you sooner.”

           “It’s fine, Brent,” I whisper. “Thank you for being here now.”

*                  *               *            *              *                 *              *

Later that day, Brent adjusts to his old room in the basement—his “den”—and I decide not to go to school for this week. I just don’t think I should be focusing on other things. What if Mom wakes up? I have to be there for her as soon as she does. It’s the least I can do as her daughter. Also, why not skip out on an opportunity to not see people from school? Peter’s still mad.

            Brent makes calls to anyone we have left and he calls insurance for Mom. He makes sure they’ll keep supplying her at the hospital with everything she needs. We refused for Lee to take care of all of the bills.

            “So, your birthday’s coming up?” Lee asks as I flip through the channels on television. Both him and Mark refuse to leave even though my own brother is here now. Mark is in the shower and Lee is sitting awfully too close to me.

            “So, you were eavesdropping?”

            “Can’t help if I do have some fine hearing,” he retorts, taking the remote. I let out a cry but he ignores it—just like usual. “What do you want to do?”

            I stare at him. He stares back. “I don’t think it’s a time to be celebrating my birthday. There are more important matters right now. There’s always next year.”

            “Not every day you turn…”

            “You don’t even know my age!” I yell, crossing my arms. And this is the guy that wants to celebrate my birthday. Lee could be so weird sometimes.

            “Of course, I do!” Lee rolls his eyes.

            “Yeah, okay.”

            Another voice interrupts. “Sorry, am I interrupting?” Mark is standing behind us, his hand ruffling a towel to his hair. He’s shirtless… of course. I stray my eyes way. I can’t help but think he looks attractive.

            When I look up, I realize why Mark asked if he was interrupting. Lee’s face was a good centimeter away from mine. I slowly back away before getting up and standing next to Mark. I rip the towel from his grip and throw it on his chest. “Why don’t you guys ever put your shirt on inside the house?”

            “We’re men,” Mark replies, smirking. He grins. “You should try it.”

            I playfully smack his arm and Mark laughs, earning another glare from Lee. If I could get a dollar for every dare he gave me in a day, I’d be richer than him and Mark combined. Lee seriously is bipolar. He goes from happy, to Mr. Cold guy, to angry 24/7.

            Ding-Dong!

            “Why don’t you guys stop flirting like weasels and go answer the door?” Lee suggests, his voice bitter. What’s up his ass today? I ignore his daggers shooting from his glare and warn Mark to cover up one time before I open the door. I gasp.

            What’s she doing here?

____

Thank you for reading and bearing with me. I know it's been quite a while. About a couple weeks, to be exact. I had exams. Ugh. They're finally kind-of over. So back to writing! I know this chapter isn't that long and things, but hope you enjoy it. Thank you for the messages of motivation. (Probably the most I've ever gotten because I'm a loser) 

Thank you for all the banners and fan love. I'm sorry, but I've recieved so many at a time and I've recently cleaned my inbox, so anyone who has anything for this story, please send them to me again? Thank you so much.

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