Finding Love in a Coffee Shop

Mochaccino

"I'm sure I don't need you to remember how Mom died," I said softly, hoping to stifle his complaints.

            That sent him into a guilty silence. Misery and some guilt of my own settled into my stomach, and I regretted my words instantly. It was an unspoken rule between us never to bring up our mom. Yet, here I was, bringing it up to silence my brother. Great sister I am. She might have died four years ago now, but it was still a sore subject.

            Dustin reached over to flick on the radio, deciding on 93.1 before settling back into his seat, arms crossed. "Sorry."

            I forced a smile. "It's fine. I know you hate moving, and I hate to keep moving us, but... hey, at least now we're ten minutes closer to your school!"

            Dustin, the brilliant young man he was, attended Williston, the most prestigious school in Western Massachusetts. Honestly, he was bright enough to go to the best of best schools, but considering our financial circumstances, it just wasn't possible. In fact, him going to Williston at the moment should of have been impossible, but between my two part-time jobs, his part-time job, our little bank account inheritance, and his amazing scholarship, we could just afford sending him there as well as the other necessities of life. And he didn't take it for granted, attaining straight A's every semester.

            And of course, he was very handsome. Fortunately, we came from a family that's always been easy on the eyes. Dustin and I had got lucky there. Inheriting our parent's good looks and genes, including our semi-curly honey colored hair and hazel eyes. We really looked similar. I was bit more awkward looking than him, but I still liked to think I looked decent. Somehow my mom's slender build had passed down onto me, so I didn't have to work too hard to keep in shape.

            Definitely very lucky.

            "Close enough to walk?" Dustin questioned, glancing at me.

            I hesitated. "Um, not really..."

            "So I should sign up for driving school sooner than later."

            "I don't mind giving you rides," I protested.

            Rolling his eyes, he waved me off. "First of all, I don't want to be driven by you while my friends are driving to school. That's embarrassing. And second, it's a waste of gas for you to drive me to school, then yourself to school. We're lucky Doug lives close enough to bring me home after school now."

            "I suppose," I grumbled. Lately all Dustin talked about was obtaining his license. He already had his permit, and I usually allowed him drive for practice (unless I was feeling particularly nostalgic and didn't want my baby brother driving), but I guessed it was weird knowing he was old enough to drive now. It felt like yesterday that my mom was changing his diapers. And honestly, it was a little bit depressing.

            He exhaled loudly, retuning his gaze to the world outside his window. "Well, at least we'll have more space in the new place."

            I immediately clung to the topic change. "There you go, bud, think on the bright side!"

            "I think you think on it enough for the both of us," he remarked, not unkindly.

            I stayed quiet. The only reason for my never-ending optimism was so he believed it, and didn't have to worry like I did. My anxiety and my panic attacks, although not too serious, were my dirty little secret. Of course, he would never blame me for them. After all, I'd watched our mother burn to death four years ago. That was bound to mess me up a little, right? And, it could have been worse. It wasn't like I was at the point where I had to take pills.