Wayward (Wayward #1) ✓ [bxb]

Chapter 23

Might contain some pretty triggering stuff at the end.

SONG - HOUSE ON FIRE - SIA

He looked different.

Older.

I don't know why it surprised me to see lanky brother now a bit solider and leanly muscled. His chestnut hair was fuller and wavier. He looked a little taller, almost the same height as I was. I guess all these changes shouldn't have been so surprising to me considering I hadn't seen him in nearly four years.

"How did you find this place?" My voice was sharp and paranoid. I didn't tell any of my family members where I lived in the city apart from Dad. And I was forced to do so since he had to send a few letters and checks to me. None of them had ever visited at my insistence. With the brash and wild way I'd been living, it was better that way.

Chris stuffed his hands into his pockets "Hi Ryan."

"Don't leave my question unanswered." I snapped.

His eyes widened in surprise. As though he hadn't expected me to sound this way "Dad leaves his stuff scattered around the kitchen sometimes. He left a few mails and I took a look."

Made perfect sense.

"What are you doing here? How did you get to New York?" those were the next round of questions fired at him.

Chris bunched his lips together "I'm in the Art club at school and so we took a trip to see the Met and some other galleries. Figured that I'd take the time to also see you."

"Really?" my tone hardened.

"Yes. I have the phone number of the accompanying teachers and a note signed by our parents to say that I could go." He stated confidently. It was proof that I should believe him.

I processed the information "Why?"

"Because I have so many things I want to say to you. Perhaps things that I should have said a long time ago but for one reason and many I didn't." his tone was sullen. "It's more likely right now that you're going to call Mom and Dad to have my ass shipped back to Greendale ASAP. But I hope that maybe you'll be interested in what I have to say now."

I was conflicted.

A very large part of me did want to call my parents and kick him out of my sight. It was perfectly rational after all; my little brother who I'd hated for part of my life shows out of the blue and wants to talk. I should be mad. I should be furious. I should screech at the top of my voice that I never wanted to see him again.

But a little, weaker part of me was painfully curious about what Chris wanted to say. I knew my brother and he wasn't a risk taker. He wouldn't risk bunking on a clearly not well monitored school trip for a cause he didn't see as important.

But just because it was important to him didn't mean that it was the same to me. There was no obligation for me to care. I weighed my options and the most unlikely part won out.

"Come on." I walked past him into the building. I didn't know what I was doing and honestly it seemed best not to think about it.

Surprised, Chris quickly followed after me. His Conversed squeaked on the marble floors with each hurrying step he took after me. Pete looked up from his desk with a small frown which transformed into brief surprise at the sight of my brother trailing behind. I gave him a small nod indicating that I wasn't in the mood for small talk this evening and he reciprocated it.

In the elevator, my brother's labored breathing was loud. I stood in front of him mostly because I didn't want a reason for our eyes to dart in the same direction. He was obviously awestruck and mentally appraising his new environment the way I had done when I first entered here. The visible gaucherie that enveloped me, reaffirming that this was now my home. It was wonderfully terrifying.