"Fuck off," I groaned when I heard the distinct noise of my bedroom door creaking open behind me. The sound rang through my head like a jet plane taking off, reminding me of why I don't drink. I've never touched a drop of alcohol in my life. And if this resembles any part of a hangover, I never would.
"Merry Christmas to you too, sunshine," Noel muttered. I could practically feel the vibration of his eyes rolling.
I groaned again, pulling my blanket tighter around my shivering body. I barely even registered Noel's presence. My head felt like it was going to explode. I've always been prone to headaches-Another another lovely side effect of my never-ending insomnia-but most aren't as bad as this one.
"Go away Noel, I'm not in the mood." I was never in the mood to see them, but today I truly had no interest.
"Oh c'mon, Flick, can't you be nice, at least today? It's Christmas?" He sounded like a pouting child, shuffling his feet against the wood floor. Though my eyes hadn't yet opened, I could picture him standing behind me wearing that stupid mopey look that was supposed to make me feel guilty about being difficult. It didn't. The idea of it made me even angrier.
"I don't care, can you please just leave me alone?" I tried to keep my voice above a whine. I still didn't move. My body felt like it was made of lead. So heavy, it almost hurt. The idea of trying to get up and out of bed now, made me sick.
Especially after yesterday. The day itself was so draining. My mother's presence was exhausting, to say the least. She spent the whole night, including when I got home from the roof with Jackson around 4 AM, fighting with my brothers, or more specifically, Emil. It felt nostalgic in a tiring way. They'd spent my whole childhood fighting. I can remember so many nights where I would stay up, sitting against the door, listening to them yell about things I didn't understand yet. I hated it then. I hate it now. During the night, while I was still awake listening to their angry words being thrown at one another, I almost found myself feeling bad for Emil. I've been on both the offensive and defensive sides of a fight with my mother, and I can attest to the fact that it is no joy to be either. I almost felt bad. Almost. But then I remembered that he brought this on himself by coming back here. This was his choice, his doing. And he did not deserve any of my sympathies.
"Flick, c'mon, come with me to go get breakfast or something. Don't sit here all day."
I sighed hearing Noel's voice sound through the room again. He hadn't left yet. I had hoped if I kept my eyes shut long enough, he would just disappear. "Noel-"
"Please. Don't say no, Flick. I'm not asking for much here." The plea in his voice sent another wave of nostalgia washing over me. We used to do this all the time. Noel had always been an early riser. He would wake up hours before me, and at 8 o'clock exactly, no matter what day it was, he would come and wake me up and make me come and do something with him, like go to the grocery store, or go get Christmas eve breakfast. It used to be our thing. But we didn't have a thing anymore. We didn't have anything anymore. And I hated the way my stomach clenched when I thought about that.
"Go away," I muttered.
He sighed. "Flick-"
"Noel, please. Just leave." I wasn't yelling. I wasn't even angry. Just so fucking tired. Of him, of them, of everything. I was done with this whole situation. And it just seemed to never fcking end.
"Flick, if I thought anything would get better if I left you here, I would do it. But it won't. Please, I'm- I'm just trying to make it better, even- even just a little, little bit. Please, just- just let me make it better. For you and me." I heard his feet shuffle a little closer to my bed. I didn't flinch or even move when I felt his hand gently land on my shoulder. "Let me try at least."
My eyes snapped open, and I flipped onto my back to be able to look at him. Just looking at him made me feel so nostalgic. It reminded me of a time where going to get breakfast with my brother, who I thought I would have by my side forever, was all I would have wanted to do. A time when I didn't feel so sick to my stomach all the time. Sick over Mom, Emil, and Jackson. A time before I was like this. This girl that I am now. This person, so filled with anger and hatred and so void of everything else. I think about who I am all the time. I think about who I used to be. And I hated both of them. Slowly, I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed.
"Don't fucking touch me," I mumbled. "I'll be ready in 10 minutes."
He grinned, and reached forward, arms outstretched as if he was going to hug me, but at the last second, he put his arms down and took a step back. "10 minutes. Perfect."
And I couldn't help the bloom of warmth in my chest seeing just how happy my few sharp words had made him.
-FLICK-
"Apple pie?" I scrunched up my nose as Noel held up the pie towards me. "What, you don't like apple pie?" He asked, tilting his head like a little puppy. What is it with men in my life acting like dogs? And smelling like them too. I had remarked on our walk to the farmers market a few blocks away from our apartment that Noel smelled like he hadn't showered in a week. Most people would probably take offense to that-probably because it was meant in an offensive manner-but Noel, good-natured, oblivious little Noel, just laughed and shrugged. He said he'd gone surfing yesterday and hadn't showered since then.
One thing I don't miss about living with boys is the constant lack of basic hygiene. Not all my brothers are as intentionally disgusting as Noel, and Jules used to be, and still are, but none of them were exactly known for their cleanliness. And I should know. I shared a room with all of them at one point or another. When I was little it would rotate around, who would share a room with me and Cameron. Being the youngest, we always got to sleep in a room versus the couch, and our brothers used to argue all the time about who would get to join us and who would have to suffer on the floor or couch.
"I hate apples." I shrugged. My headache had leveled off an hour ago, thanks to the help of four ibuprofen that I stole from Mom's purse. She was still asleep when we left. Emil was awake, and so were Wren and Jules. Cameron had never come home last night. Not that I cared. I didn't. But I was curious as to where he would have disappeared all night. He didn't have many friends, and the ones he did have were cut off, same as he did me, when he left for San Diego. Some of them still asked about him when I saw them around the city. Others didn't give a fuck what he was up to. But that's what happens when you cut the wrong people off. Not everyone is going to wait for you.
"I knew that you don't like apples," Jules muttered more to himself than to us. He'd decided to come after Noel told him we were going to the market to get stuff for breakfast and dinner tonight. He said something about making sure we 'got the right stuff or something equally as douchey.
"How did you know that?" Noel asked him, putting down the pie with a perplexed expression.
"She threw apple juice at me once," Jules' response was so quick and nonchalant it made me choke on the laugh I tried to suppress.
"I did?" I asked.
My brother nodded. "I was watching you one day when you were like three and I gave you apple juice because that's what three-year-olds drink, but you had just recently discovered that you did not like apple juice or apple anything, so your response was to throw your Minnie mouse sippy cup at me." He shrugged, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.
"I did that?" I didn't exactly doubt Jules' story. I was a bit of a devil as a little kid. But I liked to think I wasn't as bad as that story made me sound.
"Yup. Then Emil came home and yelled at you. And I'll tell you what, you never threw anything at me again while I was watching you." The boys both laughed loudly, and I found myself chuckling a little too.
"Flick, you were a nightmare at three," Noel stated, picking up a cherry pie which we both nodded to.
"I was not." I protested, rolling my eyes.
"Hell yeah, you were. The only person you ever listened to was Emil, and sometimes Emmett if he yelled loud enough," Jules laughed, shaking his head. "I used to hate watching you, especially when it was you and Cam together. You two were terrors."
I and Cameron used to be close. Close. He and Wren were my best friends as a kid. They were all I needed. Or all I thought I needed. When My brothers started leaving, I clung to Wren and Cameron like my life depended on it. Because it felt like it did. And when Wren left, I tried to hang on to Cameron the same as I always had before. But I see now, that even back then his mind had been made up. He pushed me away because he was always planning on leaving me. Maybe he thought it would make it easier for me if we weren't close. It didn't. It only made it worse. They had all done that in some form or another. Push me away so they didn't have to see the aftermath of their actions. So they didn't have to see our nostalgia turn bitter in my brain.
"But so you were so cute, Flick. Like most toddlers are cute, but you were downright adorable. Even when you were being an absolute terror." Noel chuckled.
I gave a thin-lipped smile and nodded, trying to hide the dip in my mood. "Are you guys ready to head home now?" I asked, shoving my hands into my jeans pockets harshly. Their laughter died down, and their smiles both faded.
"Not just yet. Everything okay?" Jules asked. He tilted his head just like Noel had earlier. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
"Yeah. Yeah, fine," I nodded my head and shrugged. "Just- just ready to head home," I muttered, not looking at either of them. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them exchange one more look before slowly, Jules nodded and put a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off immediately, scowling at my brother.
"Don't fucking touch me, Jules. How many times do I have to say it before you assholes get it through your thick skulls?" I didn't try and hide the bite in my tone. My arms crossed over my chest in their usual protective manner. I swallowed my laughter and forced my expression to morph into the painfully neutral gaze that I had masted over the years.
"I'm sorry-"
"Save it," I grumbled, pulling my pack of cigarettes out of my pocket. "I'm going home." I didn't wait for any sort of response from either of the boys.
I just turned on my heels and tried to remind myself of why I hate them so much.
And the more I thought about it, the less I truly found.
And that made me so angry it was sickening.
A/N-I hate my brain so much. I mean, this chapter has been written for a month. A literal month. But I hated it so much that I tried to rewrite it (like 10 times over) and now I'm stuck with this even though I hate it with a burning passion. So yeah, I'm back for now but schools still in so don't expect much anytime soon. Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the next one let me know what you think and don't forget to vote and comment :)