The Next Door Neighbour

Chapter 19//Supernova

{swipe^}

Brayden's POV

IT'S HUMAN NATURE to hope that every good thing will last forever. That the boy you like will always make you feel the way you do now. That your pet will never grow old and sick. That your little cousin will never lose her childlike innocence. It's human nature to believe that you'll stay best friends forever. That you'll have the job of your dreams. That your family will always be big and happy.

Nobody wants to believe that every good thing must come to an end. But what happens when that thing is no longer truly good? When your dream job becomes a daily battle, or when your best friend isn't yours anymore? What do you do when the sun goes to sleep and the shadows take over? Who decides when a flower — once sweet and bright — has turned toxic?

Brayden had learned a lesson: some things don't stay good forever. He learned something else, too: his parent's marriage was one of those things.

There was no sugarcoating it, which was fine by him. His parents were divorcing because his dad was having an affair — he'd be moving in with the woman soon. Brayden found himself caring less than he would've expected, probably suspended in a state of shock. He didn't care that his dad would be leaving — hell, it would probably feel like a vacation. But he did care about his mom and Skye's wellbeings, and his main priority right then was making sure they were okay.

And they most definitely were not.

In a puddle of mourning tears sat his mother, grieving the loss of her husband to a woman hardly half her age. He knew she was blaming herself, doubting herself, analyzing the last eighteen years of her life. Looking for more reasons to cry, and finding too many.

Skye was a ball of uncontainable anger. Despite the ice and snow, she was outside, lobbing ball after ball into a net on the driveway, wringing her lacrosse stick in frustration when she missed. Maybe Brayden would share in her anger eventually, but for now he was in survival mode, prioritizing his mom and sister ahead of himself. He would allow himself to experience grief and anger later.

Brayden pulled his gloves on, then grabbed the two travel mugs he'd just filled with hot chocolate, before heading out into the cold. Skye didn't stop when she saw him, crunching his way through the snow and trying not to slip on the strips of ice coating the driveway. He waited patiently, mugs in hand, for her to glance his way. When she did, minutes later, her eyes were red-rimmed and glassy. Silently, he extended the hot chocolate out to her, and she took it with a half-whispered "thanks." After a few small sips, she handed it back to him, and he stepped away to watch her continue to launch balls into the net. Her small, angry form was a ball of fury, watered down and diluted only by a few solitary tears escaping.

"What now?" she asked after a little while, her blue-brown eyes never leaving the net.

"What do you mean?"

"What does this mean for us?" she clarified, turning to look at him. For the first time, she didn't look angry; she looked sad and worried, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. He wanted to take that weight, but he didn't know how.

Taking a deep breath, he paused to think. Honestly, he didn't know the answer to her question — but he couldn't tell her that; she needed him to be the Big Brother. To be familiar and warm and comforting, even if he didn't feel like it. Even if he needed someone to be like that for him.

     Channeling his inner Big Brother, he answered, "It means we need to stick together. Take care of mom and each other. We're gonna figure this out, okay? Slowly. But we're gonna."