Burning Moth

Chapter Seven, Part Three - High Expectations

I was still thinking things through the next day, when I returned to my apartment.

As with my life, everything at home was the same...

And now different.

In the bathroom, my step-brother's toothbrush had taken up residence in my absence, his deodorant and cologne eating up precious counter space. I thought finding his short and curlies in the shower was appalling–until I opened my closet to the horror within.

His shoes, his shirts, his jeans, his boxers and boxes–his shit was all there.

My first instinct was to burn down the whole apartment building, just to teach Jacob and Aidan a lesson their mothers failed to indoctrinate. The eleventh commandment–a girl's closet was fucking sacred.

Thou shalt not taint the space with the unholiness of thine smelly-ass socks!

I left my room, marching straight down the hall, to Aidan's, prepared to rip him a new one for allowing his new boyfriend to invade my territory.

I pounded on the door, then stepped back and waited, glare at the ready. I wasn't surprised when my step-brother poked his head out, smug as ever to see me pissed.

"Where's Aidan?" I demanded.

"At work. How can I help, friend?"

I rolled my eyes. "If you hate me so much then why's all your stuff in my room, Jake?"

Jacob sighed his fortitude, leaning his head against the doorframe, scrutinizing my irritation. "You have a bigger closet than Aidan. He said you wouldn't mind; poor thing doesn't know you as well as I do."

"Whatever, Jacob." It may have looked like I was giving in, but in actuality I was swerving from the real manipulation. The last thing I wanted was to be provoked into causing friction with my best friend by arguing with his asshole boyfriend. It was exactly the game Jacob would play. "Just stay out of my shit and I'll stay out of yours."

He grinned, scratching his head against the door, amused. "Don't worry, Shrimp--you'll have your space back soon. In fact, you'll probably have the whole apartment to yourself..."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." He shrugged, innocent, yet not remotely so. "I'm saving up for my own place--with an extra closet just for Aidan, but who knows. He might decide to move all his stuff over--imagine how much  space you'd have then, Scar." He winked. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to get some sleep. I've got an interview in the morning, for a real job."

Jacob and I glared at each other, shields locked, swords raised...

A knock sounded down the hallway, from the front door–but I was in no mood to entertain Jacob any more than the schmuck who'd come calling.

"If Aidan wants to move out, I'm sure he'll let me know." I squinted at Jacob. "Have a good night, dick."

Back inside my bedroom, I slammed the door, then dug out the small tin stashed beneath my bed. I sat down, cross-legged, going to work with my smoke materials. I was furious at the idea of Aidan moving out, dumping me for my conniving step-brother. So engrained was I in the task at hand, I didn't notice the intruder until he cleared his throat.

"Troy." I started, effectively caught off guard. He shut my bedroom door behind him, then leaned against it, wordless, studying me from eyes much too brown, beneath lashes much too long. He was also much too serious, especially for two people who weren't even dating–something we had never tried, for stupid reasons like immaturity and bad timing. I wasn't blind, I knew Troy and I could be a good match–we could work. We just never had a reason to try.