Mine

One

"Wendy!" I heard them clearer once I turned off the engine and exited my vehicle. They immediately welcomed me in a tight, tangled embrace.

"We missed you!" I was greeted ever so sweetly by my little brothers whom I missed so much. Joseph's gigantic brown eyes were glistening in the summer sun. He had grown so much in height whereas his older brother, Patrick, had also grown but in the wide-sense. Patrick very much looked like a beach ball in his colourful shirt.

"Okay, okay, guys! Gotta get my stuff," I announced, giggling at their cuteness. "Why don't you make me a Nutella sandwich? Just like how I used to make yours, yeah?" They were surprisingly enthusiastic enough to take it. They ran and skipped back into the house and then it was my mother's turn to welcome me.

I took my bags from the trunk and shut it just as my mother approached. "Travel fine?"

"Psh, mom. It was fine and if it wasn't, it wouldn't matter now because I'm here with you guys again." I gave my mother a reassuring smile and a big hug.

She rocked us to and fro, and said against my hair, "We really have missed you. I'm glad you found the time to come by." She pulled away and gripped my shoulders tight.

"Of course, I'd find the time for family, mom," I reassured her and she kissed my forehead before leading me into the house.

It seemed like I'd been gone for a decade but in reality, I'd just been gone for a little over three years. It was a big deal for my little brothers, though, because when I left for the city, Patrick was eight, and Joseph was six. I was grateful they even remembered me. They'd grown a little older since then and I'd always been afraid of missing them grow up. 

I entered the home and right at that instant the same old scent engulfed me. The same old aromatic cinnamon smell. Oh, how I missed baking. Nothing felt like home. Not even my apartment in the city.

My brothers came to me and told me that the sandwich was on the breakfast table yet pulled me elsewhere. "You know, we got a new game!" Patrick said.

"Yeah, it's much more violent because we're grown-ups and you know we can take it!" Joseph said with a wide smile on his face.

"Well alright, guys, show me!" I sat on the same old living room sofa and checked out the new throw pillows while they set up their video game. "Oh, yeah. Let me grab my sandwich made especially by my cute brothers." I smiled and raised my brows at them. Patrick gave me a thumbs up in return.

I just ate the whole time they were explaining the technicalities of their zombie game. So much swearing in that game, too. They must have already been grown-ups indeed.

For the rest of the day, it was just catching up. On what role I was preparing for, whether I was comfortable in my apartment or not, if I had any boyfriend... which reminded me to be the annoying big sister that I was.

"Well, I'm not dating anyone but maybe... one of the boys in the room is, mhm?" I smirked and raised a brow at them.

"Ew, Wendy. Are you serious?" Joseph did exaggerated shudders followed by a yuck sound.

"I think I've got my priorities straight, Wendy," Patrick said and I was taken aback with the sass. I looked back at my mother and she was shaking her head with a motherly smile on her face. The boys high-fived in the background.

"Your ex-boyfriend was looking for you, though," Patrick said and I initially thought he was joking, but I eventually saw in his not-at-all-unusual expression that he wasn't.

My mother beat me to it and asked, "Hm? Which boyfriend?"

"Ex-boyfriend, mom," Joseph corrected and playfully rolled his eyes.

"Um," I chuckled. "Which ex-boyfriend?"

"She's got so many she doesn't even know." They teased me further. My mother smirked as she got up and walked to the kitchen.

"Patrick," my mother interrupted. "Don't be difficult with your sister now. She just got back." She looked at them over her shoulder.

Still tittering amongst themselves, they finally said. "Adam. It was Adam." They then dismissed me completely and ran off to their rooms to do whatever it is boys do. 

I turned to my mother and she shrugged at me as she nonchalantly drank a glass of water. "When did they speak to Adam?" I asked.

She set down the empty glass and said, "I don't know, darling."

I was trying to think, but the boys' shouting and movements were very much audible from downstairs, and distracting. 

I pressed, "Why didn't he talk to you, instead?" I wanted to ask how often were the boys outside. Yeah, why not ask my mother about me instead of asking Patrick? My mother had always had a kind woman reputation in this town, anyway. She was basically the town's Asian sweetheart.

"I know you're probably going to meet with your old friends, ask him then," she suggested as if problem solved and walked past me. I immediately knew she'd be going upstairs to scold my brothers for being rowdy. She would never tolerate unruly behaviour.
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Moments later, as I was preparing myself another something to eat, I saw Patrick running to the front door so I took the opportunity to ask: "Patrick, how did Adam tell you he was looking for me?"

"Um... I think he's heard from your friends that you're coming back home. He saw me at the park three days ago... I think? And told me he couldn't wait to see how you've been." He then proceeded to walk out the door.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"I'm just going to bring this outside." He gestured to the bag of trash he was holding. I hadn't even noticed.

I was not friends with Adam anymore. Not because he's my ex, but because he was bad news. It was typical of him to always get into all sorts of trouble and I nearly got expelled because of him. What happened was he called me up when he was smoking in the back of the school building one time and when he got a call he––for some reason––handed me his cigarette to hold... just as a teacher showed up. It was a relief that the teacher knew me well enough to know I didn't smoke.

I don't know what I ever saw in him for me to consider dating him. He's handsome and I thought he's fairly decent but that was always until he, as usual, chose to do the worst possible option.

Every time he got in trouble, I feel sorry for him and let him stay at my house for a bit. When he once picked a fight with his mother's boyfriend and nearly got beaten to death, I let him hide at mine. He left after a few days just as he promised but when I found out that he was living with a bunch of drug addicts in an abandoned factory, I urged him to stay with me until his sister convinced their mother to accept him back. Even though their home was not really that far from a crack house. 

I'd always had a hard time cutting people out of my life; distance––like after the graduation––sure helped a lot.

But then I knew I had to find his contact and message him to meet the next day. I needed him to quit approaching my brothers. Any of them. God knows what he was on.

Though, I couldn't help but wonder maybe he'd changed for the better.. or had he just gotten worse.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I see you've made it here! You have no idea how grateful  I am for that. I also would appreciate any support or feedback if you have any since this has actually not been edited by anyone other than myself yet :--)