Twenty-Four

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Jack and I pretend to watch TV while his parents run around to make sure they've got everything. I can't believe they're really leaving for an entire week. Surely they don't trust us this much. Maybe me alone, but Jack? Never. And with Jack and me being together, the only logical option is that they asked someone to check on us every once in a while. We're not children but Jack's here, so that makes sense. He would probably burn down the house.

We listen to the car pull out of the driveway. When we can't hear it anymore, Jack jumps onto me like an overly excited flea.

Maybe it was a punishment. They didn't leave the house for more than five minutes for three weeks. Maybe this week is a gift. God knows we deserve one.

We're horizontal within seconds and Jack's got his hands all over the place and God, I missed this.

But it doesn't last as long as either of us hope.

I've just pulled Jack's shirt off when the front door opens and a tallish guy with a hat walks in like he owns the place. Jack and I initially freeze, but when the guy throws his keys in the general direction of the coffee table, Jack groans and buries his face in my shoulder. The guy goes directly to the kitchen without looking at us.

We sit up and Jack tugs his shirt back on. I do my best to ignore the disappointment. He could do without the shirt if he really wanted to.

"Jack, who is that?" I ask.

Jack makes a face. "My brother."

"Your who now? You're an only child."

He tells me that his dad got a girl pregnant when he was fifteen and he wanted to help raise the kid but his family had to move across the country shortly after they found out she was pregnant. I guess he assumed she got an abortion or gave it up for adoption or something. He moved to a new town and new church and met Jack's mom and they waited until their mid-thirties to have Jack. They only found out a few months ago that the guy existed and nobody bothered to tell me. It hurts a little, but I guess I have to understand. They must be embarrassed.

The guy doesn't come out of the kitchen until the story is finished. He's holding four Pop-Tarts and munching on another.

"Hey, Jack," he says through bits of half-chewed Pop-Tart. He does a double-take when he sees me. "Who's that?"

"My boyfriend," Jack awkwardly says. He shifts forward on the couch, readying himself for an adverse reaction.

But Michael just sits down in a chair and says, "Okay, rad. Jacob asked me to stay here while they're on the business trip."

Jack makes a noise like a dying elephant and dramatically collapses across my lap. When the guy looks confused, I say, "They haven't left us alone in three weeks and we were kind of eager for that time." He nods, so I introduce myself. "Hi... Um, I'm Tyler. Nice to meet you, I guess."

"Michael," he says. "So are you the kid who got kicked out?"

Jack sits up and glares at him. "Michael!"

"What? That's what they said."

"You're being insensitive."

Michael shrugs. "I guess that's a yes, then. Alright, well if you guys want to be alone so badly, I'll just eat these and go. They asked me to stay the whole time, though, so I'll be back in a bit."

He eats his Pop-Tarts while staring directly at us. It's silent the whole time and extremely awkward. I don't know where else to look, so I just make contact and look away every few seconds. Jack never looks away.

Michael finally leaves. Jack is preoccupied with apologizing for not telling me and it's getting old, so I cut him off with a kiss. It's been three weeks. I can be mad later.

Michael stays with us for the entire week, sleeping on the couch and snoring like a train. He's not actually at the house very often, so it's basically the same as we hoped it would be. He texts to let us know when he's on his way back because I guess it's kind of awkward walking in on your little "brother" having sex. Which he almost did. Twice.

Thank the Lord someone invented locks.

When Mom and Dad come home, all three of us act like Michael never left for a second, complete with bickering over who left the kitchen messy. I'm the only one of us who knows how to cook, so the burrito wrappers are all them. Jack eats like he doesn't know I'd be willing to cook us a real meal.

I think they assumed that Michael would be cool enough to leave us alone but we don't tell them anything. In fact, the rest of the house is spotless. Only the kitchen is messy, which Jack and I blame on Michael. True sibling behavior.

I don't know. I didn't like Michael at first, but he's not so bad.

He did find it weird that I call Jack's parents Mom and Dad. I dropped the 2 after my own parents kicked me out last year, but I don't tell Michael about that. He's not the best at being sensitive to other people's emotions. I can't really blame him for it but I wish he could make more of an effort not to bring it up.

Even after it was explained to him, he doesn't understand why I'm living with the Prouts for the summer.

Didn't he have childhood trauma? I mean, really, who doesn't?

Still, though, the year is pretty good. Jack and I spend most of our time at his house, which my parents don't comment on. They stopped speaking to me altogether in the beginning of the school year. Mom and Dad don't think it would be a good idea to move back in with them for the school year. Something about child services. I don't know. Jack has a better understanding of it. He spent the whole summer trying to convince them to let me come back.

He's perfect.

I don't know how I would get through anything without him.

Jack Prout is the love of my life. 

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