Don't Let Jack Drive!

Chapter Seven

On Monday morning, I was woken by Alex throwing himself down onto my bed beside me. My eyes snap open, instantly glaring.

"The fuck, Alex?"

"Do we have to go to school today?" he asks, giving me his puppy dog eyes. I take a proper look at him. He's fully dressed.

"Yes," I say, against my better judgement. As much as I preferred our new school, it was very unlike me to say no to a day off.

"You just want to see Jack," Alex points out. Yes, okay. It was true.

"Is that a crime?"

"C'mon, Beth! Mom and Dad won't have to know! It'll be our little secret!"

"Ugh!" I groan, pulling my pillow down over my face. When I lift it back up and open my eyes, I find Alex staring at me.

"I miss you," he says. I bite my lip and the corner of his mouth twitches upwards. He knows he's getting to me. "I feel like we haven't talked in forever,"

"And whose fault is that?" I reply. I don't know why I'm fighting - we both know I'm going to give in.

"I know. Let me make up for it!" he pleads. I roll my eyes and groan again.

"Fine," I sigh, sitting up in bed.

"Awesome! I'll leave you to get dressed then," he replies, getting up from my bed and walking out of my bedroom, shutting the door behind him. I look at Jimmy, lying on the floor and I point at him.

"You'd better not tell anybody about this," I say, warningly. He twitches his ears and whines a little. I laugh and get up out of bed too. I stop at my signed FOB poster and grin, tracing Patrick's signature.

When I come downstairs, I find breakfast on the table. I have issues with breakfast. It might just be a bowl of cereal to anybody else, but to me... It was during breakfast that I found out that my oldest brother, Tom, had killed himself. Call it irrational, but since then - I'd never eaten breakfast again. I still remember that day so vividly, even though I was only twelve at the time - three and a half years ago. I remember being the only one up and my parents coming home. I was eating cereal, leant up against the counter. I hadn't realised that they'd been out. My Mom walked straight up the stairs, ignoring me, but I watched my Dad take a deep breath and walk into the kitchen to talk to me. His eyes were red and puffy. My Dad is a very proud man and before then, I'd never seen him cry. He didn't look at me as he said it. He looked out of our kitchen window, down to the bottom of the garden where Tom, Alex and I used to play. When he said it, it took a few minutes for it to hit me - for me to understand. My bowl hit the ground and smashed, porcelain and milk and cereal all over my bare feet. Without saying anything, I stood up from the counter, turned around and violently threw up my fruit loops into the sink. When I'd finished and I'd wiped my mouth, I turned around. I needed answers. But my Dad was gone. So I slumped down the counter and cried beside the spilled milk.

"You okay?" Alex asks me, snapping me out of that horrible memory. I choke back the lump in my throat, blink back the tears and nod, forcing a smile. I guess I could use this day off.

"I, uh... I don't eat breakfast," I tell him. I'd never officially acknowledged it aloud, but I hadn't expected Alex to make me any.

"You don't have to eat it," he says.

"So," I say, brightly. "What are our plans for today?"

"I thought I'd let you decide,"

"You mean you have no actual reason for skipping?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"No. I do. I miss you. In case you hadn't noticed, we've been drifting lately," he says, his eyes sad. I had noticed. Alex and I hadn't always been close siblings - when we were younger we fought like hell because there was only a year between us and we just never seemed to see eye to eye. The both of us had always been equally closest to Tom, but almost never at the same time. After he died, it was like Alex and I both realised that nobody lived forever. Family was supposed to be forever, but sometimes it just wasn't. So we both made a conscious effort to be more involved in the other's life. We were the only people in the world who knew exactly how the other felt. And that brought us closer together. Since then, Alex had been my best friend in the entire world. Until recently. He'd become touchy and moody and he just didn't want to hang out as much. It hurt me, but I dealt with it. I put it down to the move, figuring he'd eventually come back to me when he was ready. We both knew it was my fault and he hadn't wanted to leave. Neither of us had, really. But being Alex, he'd put a brave face on it - taking it out on me in a way he didn't really notice.