We Are Infinite

t h i r t y - s e v e n

k a d e  /  t h i r t y - s e v e n

It's like we tell each other to stay away, but the universe keeps finding new ways for us to cross paths, to get closer. And while things are spiraling, way out of control, I don't know what I want.

I think about this all the way home.

I didn't find the satisfaction, the relief, the calmness, after fighting tonight. The spark was still there, without a doubt, but . . . it's not what it used to be.

I found my escape. And it's not in fighting. It's like, I'm thinking, sometimes there's this one thing everyone has in their lives, that them them away from reality. It makes them happy. It makes them feel alive. Like a fire in your soul, that only you can feel.

And then I look at Mia Lynch, and there's a voice in me that's like, there she is. My escape. My distraction. My drug.

It's just a pity about Kade Lawson. It's pretty clear that Mia doesn't have the feelings for him that he has for her. If she did, God knows what I would have done.

Yet, Lawson somehow still has a hold on her. Mia's not my girl, yet, but I hate the way he treats her. Although she'd have never said it, I've figured that if he hadn't told her to join the cheerleading squad, she wouldn't have joined.

And that isn't love. Or like or whatever this thing is. You don't make someone do something they don't like. I repeat that sentence to myself, and then let out a sigh.

You don't make someone do something they don't like.

If only Dad could see life through the same pair of eyes that I do. If only people had the same heart, but they don't. They don't, and that's what's going to screw you up. The fact that you think they do.

It's late by the time I reach home. The lights inside are still switched on, and I furrow my eyebrows. Usually everyone is asleep by now.

I step into the house, and all hell is broken loose. Mom and Dad are arguing. I follow their voices into the huge kitchen, but I don't step in. I don't let them see me. This is new, and my fist clenches by my side when I realize that Mom is crying yet again.

There's nothing I want more than to stalk into the kitchen, but there's no way that that would end well. For one thing, Miles has always said that I have hella right fist strength, perfect for breaking noses. For another, my little brother Finn is upstairs, and there's no doubt that he can hear it all.

I walk up the stairs, and knock on Finn's bedroom door. When he doesn't reply, I let myself in. The room is dark, all the lights switched off. However, the tiny nightlight in the hallway gives off enough light that I can just barely make out Finn on his bed. I walk closer, and my heart breaks.

Finn is crying, head buried underneath his pillow. Tiny muffled mewling sounds, like a kitten, emits from beneath the pillow.

I wasn't here when Mom and Dad started fighting. I should have been here.

I walk closer, and then sit on the edge of his bed. Finn must hear the bed creak beneath my weight, because he slowly sits up in bed, his eyes wet, droplets of tears on the edge of his eyelashes.

I hold out my arms, and when I feel Finn's tiny arms tighten around my waist, I close my eyes against his soft hair. He pulls away, and I smooth his hair away from his forehead.

A loud cracking noise from downstairs makes me flinch. Finn holds my hand, tight, his dark eyes scared, and I pull him close again.

After a few minutes, Finn leaves my hand, and I realize that he's fallen asleep on my shoulder. I gently set him down on his bed again, covering his small body with a thick duvet, closing my eyes as I breathe in.

My brother deserves more. More than this life he's been given. This thought makes me angry; the thought that my parents are down there in the kitchen, arguing, fighting, with no worry about Finn.

And so I head downstairs. Mom's voice stops me in my tracks, however, before I even enter the kitchen. Her voice is firm, commanding, and it's the first time I've heard her speak in this tone.

"It's his goddamned life, Mike. I've been quiet all this time and God knows how hard it's been. It's time you stopped trying to control him. Stop trying to push a square peg into round holes. How haven't you seen it? Soccer doesn't make him happy anymore. Just leave him alone! It's. His. Life."

There's a pause, between which I feel my heart bursting with pride and emotion. And then Dad's voice is muffled, but I make out something about him not wanting to deal with "this shit."

And then there's a bang, as the door slams shut after Dad. He left. He walked out. It's a minute later when I manage to compose myself. I walk into the kitchen, where Mom stands, dazed, a look of wonderment and bafflement on her face.

I wrap my arms around Mom, and it's only then that I realize that the only tears left in her eyes are the ones that are of love, pride, courage.

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you have the courage to do whatever it is you need to. trust me, it's in you. dedicated to anyone who's ever been in situations where they needed to leave, whether it be a relationship or a place that is toxic. to anyone who ever needed to gather up their courage, speak up for themselves. i'm proud of you x