"What was that about?"
I frowned and looked up from the book I was reading on my phone to give Jordan a confused look in the rear view mirror from my place in the backseat.
He sighed, annoyed.
"You and Silas?", he reiterated. "What was that about?"
Oh.
I rolled my eyes and shut off my phone.
I was wondering when my brother was going to start interrogating me.
"We just went for a walk.", I answered, but I knew that Jordan wouldn't just drop his interest in my new found acquaintance.
The two boys were only in the same friend group because of Tommy, so they never really spoke to each other unless it involved sports, girls, or an agreement on what restaurant they were getting food from on the nights they hung out together with the rest of the guys.
Jordan and Silas's less than glowing relationship was also due to my brothers' shared reluctance to let anyone close to us anymore. This especially applied to Silas considering his joining our group late. After what happened to me, they'd gone from being my carefree brothers to my bodyguards, taking the word 'protective' to an entirely new level. They exploited their popularity and positions on their teams to the highest of their abilities, all to protect me.
Not that I was complaining—too much, anyway.
"Seriously.", I pushed.
Jordan clenched his jaw, his eyes hard as they focused on the road in front of us.
"I don't trust him."
"You don't trust anybody, Jordan.", I reminded him, but he just shook his head.
"No. I don't trust anyone when it comes to you.", he corrected, flipping down the turn signal and turning into our neighborhood.
Hakeem groaned in the passenger seat when his head thudded against the window, but he didn't wake up.
I sighed. "I know, but Silas has been in our group for years. Hasn't he proved himself worthy of my time?", I asked, rolling my eyes and exaggerating the second half of the sentence to let my brother know just how ridiculous I thought it was.
I wasn't the princess my friends treated me as, and I definitely wasn't someone people should be bowing down to—not like my brothers had made people believe.
I didn't deserve the favors or the recognition, I deserved a mental assessment and therapy sessions thrice a week.
I was a normal girl with an unfortunate past and that was it but the twins, especially Jordan, didn't see it that way.
I sighed and unbuckled my seatbelt, ready to take a shower and head to bed, but Jordan stopped me short.
"I just want to keep you safe, Rue.", he told me, and the words were so genuine I felt a twinge of guilt at how I was about to bring things into perspective for him.
I nodded. "I know, Jay, but we can't stay together forever.", I said. "Eventually life is gonna pull us apart and there won't be anything we can do. This utopian bubble of safety you and the guys have created will only withstand the weight of the world for so long."
With that, I slid from my seat and pushed open my door before trudging into the house, and kicking off my shoes in the foyer.
I was tired.
Despite tomorrow—or today, I should say, considering that it was five minutes past twelve a.m.—being a game day for the football team, everyone still had to attend school, and I was not looking forward to it.
It was lazy and intolerant moods like this one that made me grateful that I'd skipped my eighth grade year, so I only had to endure three years of high school rather than four.
I flicked on my bathroom light and avoided my reflection out of habit as I maneuvered around my bathroom, turning on the shower and brushing my teeth to pass time as I waited for the water to get hot.
Once it was, I stripped and hopped into the shower, lathering my wash cloth and scrubbing vigorously away at my skin, hoping to wash off all the negative things I'd felt throughout my day.
Ignoring the raised scars on my sides, thighs, and arms, I scrubbed and scrubbed until I was satisfied, washed my face, then got out of the shower.
My brown skin sported a glowing red undertone due to how aggressive I'd been, but it was a price I was willing to pay if it meant I got to feel at least a little clean. Being used and discarded like trash had a funny way of making you feel filthy—like no matter how hard you tried you could never get the feeling of those imposing hands off your body.
I shuddered and continued with my nightly routine: moisturizing and avoiding mirrors while I dressed in an oversized t-shirt and slid under my covers where I lay for a moment, thinking of everything and nothing at once as I watched my ceiling fan turn in circles, the blades slicing through the air creating an oddly comforting sound that helped to drown out my oppressive thoughts.
The constant swish of the fan was enough for a few minutes, but eventually I put on some music instead, knowing that I wouldn't be able to sleep if I didn't.
•
•
•
I don't remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, I was surprisingly well rested despite the insufficient amount of sleep I'd gotten.
Yawning, I stretched my arms above my head, relishing the lightness that came with the cracking and popping of my joints, then slowly rolled out of bed and onto my feet beside my nightstand.
I tapped my phone screen and noted the time: 06:15.
I had an hour and a half to get ready so I got to it, pulling on some skinny jeans, a light t-shirt, and one of Hakeems old sweatshirts that I'd stolen a few years back, and it was still too big on me.
After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I put some small hoops in my ears and studs above those, applied some cake batter flavored chapstick, then pulled off my bonnet and let my braids fall down my back.
The next thing I did was pull on some socks, before I grabbed my gray converse to match my hoodie, and lightly spritzed some body spray.
Grabbing my phone, I checked the time again and noted that only fifteen minutes had passed since I'd last looked, then made my way down stairs, tossing my shoes into the foyer as I passed into the kitchen.
Hakeem had his head down on the glass dining table, his eggs, bacon, and toast sitting, untouched, beside what I was sure was a very hungover brain.
Jordan was next to him scrolling through his phone while he polished off the rest of his bacon, and mom and dad were both leaning against the island talking to each other.
"Good morning.", mom said gently when she saw me, a motherly smile on her face, and I returned the greeting as I walked up to my dad and laid my head on his chest.
Breathing out a sigh of relief when he wrapped his arms around me, I stood there for a moment, relishing in the intense warmth and safety my dad radiated. His presence alone was enough to cure me of my anxiety.
Dad kissed my forehead and I stepped back to give my mom a hug too, which she returned lovingly.
"Did you sleep well?", she asked, moving one of my braids out of my face, and I nodded, grabbing a piece of toast.
"Any dreams?", dad questioned, and I shook my head.
That was the extent of my interactions with my parents for the morning, as they both headed out for work shortly after, leaving me and the twins to ourselves.
I finished off a second piece of toast, ate a few pieces of bacon, then washed it all down with a cup of orange juice.
"You need to eat, Hakeem."
I turned from washing my cup in the sink and watched Jordan tap our brother's shoulder and push his food toward him.
Hakeem lifted his head and gagged in the opposite direction. "No way, man.", he groaned, his handsome face twisted up into a disgusted expression.
Jordan shook his head disapprovingly, but he didn't say anything else as he stood from the table and cleaned up behind himself and Hakeem, throwing away their scraps and washing their plates and utensils.
When he was done, he pat my head affectionately then passed me to go upstairs to change.
He and Hakeem got ready after breakfast while I got ready before.
It'd been something we'd done most our lives and no one questioned it because it had become routine.
I sniffed and pushed my self from my leaning position against the counter to go stand by Hakeem, who'd gone back to wallowing in his misery.
I rubbed his back comfortingly. "I bet you won't do it again.", I taunted, and Hakeem lazily lifted his head, his eyes narrowed due to them being sensitive to the light, and replied, "I bet I will." with all the childishness he could muster.
I cringed. "You should go brush your teeth.", I informed, but Hakeem wasn't fazed by my aversion to his horrible morning breath.
"I would, but I don't have the will to move from here.", he admitted, groaning, and I laughed.
Of course he didn't.
The only reason he'd made it out of bed was because mom had dragged him down to the kitchen herself, I was sure.
It didn't matter that she was the smallest one in the house, she made up for it by being scary when the mood struck her.
I tapped Hakeem's head aggressively, hoping to arouse his headache, and he moaned in agony as I continued to pester him until he got up and stomped up the stairs, grumbling about how annoying I was the whole way.
I smirked triumphantly, but I still got him some painkillers and a bottle of water for when he came back down from getting ready.
I could be the stereotypical annoying little sister, sure, but I tried my best to show my brothers how much I appreciated and loved them whenever the opportunity presented itself.
They'd done too much for me throughout my life for me to not take care of them when they needed it.
They'd been the main reason I'd recovered so quickly from my accident, along with Thomas. The other guys had helped too, though. Milo always brought me food after his and Jace's, and my brother's track practices, Jace would read with me when he came over because no one else would (we were the only two in the group who liked to read), and Oliver would do my hair whenever I lacked the energy or care to do it myself.
His mom was a hairdresser that specialized in doing curlier hair, and Oliver had taken a liking to his mother's work. He had his own supplies and everything, and he'd even done the braids I had in my head.
Footsteps sounded from my left and I turned to see Jordan and Hakeem coming down the steps.
Jordan was dressed in a fitted gray t-shirt and dark blue jeans along with gray vans, and he wore a gold chain around his neck that dad had given him for Christmas the year before.
Hakeem wore a black henley with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, and jeans the same dark blue as Jay's with black vans. He also sported a black beanie and shades to shield his eyes from any and all light until his hangover subsided.
I chuckled as I handed him the painkillers and water I'd prepared for him and he grumbled out an almost unintelligible thank you.
I shook my head and grabbed my bag, then walked outside to get in the car.
I felt lighter than I had in a while, and the nervousness I usually harbored before going anywhere wasn't there. The positive way I felt made me feel safe in looking forward to my day, and I smiled.