Genius

Chapter Six

"Okay maybe you are better at braiding than me."

"Yeah, my brother is better than you at everything because he is the bestest." Isa sticks her tongue out at me,

"He is the bestest. But he's my bestest best friend, you're just his bestest sister." I stick my tongue out right back at her.

"Sister trumps friend." She fired back and I place my hand over my heart in show of my pity for the naive child.

"Well according to literature boy friend's girl friends trump sister." Alan's hands freeze in my hair and Isa's eyes widen until they're as round as coins. She has hickory eyes, just like her brother. With that thought I lean over and once again attempt to empty my stomach contents into the toilet.

"And why, exactly, would you date this?" I hear Isa's disbelieving voice over the sound of my own misery.

"You're too young to know what dating is, go to your room," he replies. I hear her mutter something about him being hopeless before stopping off towards what I assume is her room.

"Please, end my suffering now." I moan over the toilet, my mouth tastes exactly how I'd imagine regret to taste.

"There there." Alan pets my head and I find myself leaning into his touch, almost forgetting the unpleasant feeling of the cold porcelain of the toilet against my cheek (I realize that that is not sanitary but neither is vomiting into toilets and at this point I don't care).

"So..." Alan begins, pausing before continuing, "When you say boyfriend, what exactly do you mean?"

I look over at him, he is fidgeting his hands in an endearing(?) manner. "I mean like in the books. The kind that give hugs and chocolate and say nice things." A faint grin appears on his face, "I did see you first after all, and in those books the first dude who's name is mentioned is the boy friend." His grin disappears.

"Because you saw me first? Like by default?"

"Maybe slightly, but mostly because you're you." He doesn't respond with words, instead he finished braiding my hair and helps me up, supporting me as we walk down the hallway. I notice that my shoes are missing when I feel the soft, dirty brown carpet of the hallway underfoot. The walls are cramped with pictures, some of which are lopsided. The hallway opens into a small living room with a worn couch and old television, beyond that is a kitchen. He deposits me on the couch,

"I'll be right back." Alan sighs, moving to return to the hallway,

"Where are you going?" The shortness of his speech leads me to believe something is wrong, people apparently get more succinct as they become more irritated or upset.

"To clean up the bathroom."

"Should I be embarrassed?" I ask, because it seems like the right thing to do, and because most people turn slightly pink on television when they make messes involving their stomach contents.

"I don't know."

"Is something wrong?" The idea stings like a nettle, I don't want him to be upset.

"No." And then he leaves.

I lay on the couch for a while, glad to be free of Gwen's snores. I drift off for a while, until a clatter awakens me. I rub my eyes to find Alan standing in front of me with a flower print apron and a bandana holding his hair back.

"Hmm?" I yawn, wondering what he wants. He takes a deep breath before opening his mouth,

"I want to get to know you. To know things about you. And it's not because I saw you first, it's because I like what I do know about you. I like you because you're you too and I really hope you mean boyfriend and not boy-space-friend." He says the last sentence in a rush, he'd been relatively calm up until that point, but with that proclamation he flees the scene.