Jed
My brother is the spitting image of me.
Or rather, I of him, since he was the first one.
We're both tall, have dark hair, brown eyes, and broad cheekbones that girls drool on. Even our voices sound similar. The only difference is, my brother is bold.
Well, not completely. He keeps some longer strands of hair on top of his head, but on the sides, he keeps it shortly trimmed. It makes his hair look a shade or two darker than mine. He also doesn't wear glasses, claiming they're lame. He says he'd rather lose five minutes of his life every day to put on and take off his contact lenses than look at the world through the irritating rims.
I guess that is and always has been one of the biggest differences in our personalities. Daylen never liked anything holding him back. To him, life should be limitless, and any barriers stopping him in any way should be destroyed or ignored. Growing up beside him, I developed some of his traits, but never to the level he did. I would do something I'm not fond of if it's needed. He'd rather go to hell than let someone take away any amount of his freedom.
I watch as he wipes the hair out of his eyes impatiently before turning to me, a big, wooden spoon in hand.
"Do you think Mom'd rather have bolognese or Napoli?" He asks me.
I push off of the counter I'd been leaning on and shrug. "I dunno. You're the cook here."
"Yes, but you're her younger and favored son who still lives with her. You should be the one to tell me."
I roll my eyes. Daylen never misses the occasion to point out our age difference.
"Again: the fact that I was born when you were six doesn't make you the king of the universe."
"Yes, it does." Day nods. "You ruined my world. And now I can take my sweet time to take revenge for it."
I sigh and shake my head. He's not joking. "Just make her the Napoli." I say, exasperated.
Day nods one more and opens a cupboard. Taking out a jar of herbs, he sprinkles some into the sauce and puts it back in its place. "Anyways, what happened to your cheek?" He asks, glancing at me sideways. "I thought I could pass but it's too red for me to ignore."
A muscle pops in my jaw as today's events replay in my mind.
"A girl hit me." I simply say.
Daylen's brows ride up so high they nearly disappear under the bangs hanging over his forehead. "A girl hit you?"
I nod and he cracks a short laugh. Shaking his head, he goes back to stirring the tomato sauce. "Damn, bro, I knew you were sorta a heartbreaker, but never expected it to go this far."
"I didn't sleep with her." I reply, somewhat offended. "I never even hugged her. This is not the way we are."
"Right." My brother's tone suggests he doesn't believe me. "So what other thing did you have to do to end up on the deserving end of her wrath?"
"I offended her... friend." I flinch inwardly at the word.
"Why?"
I roll the words around my tongue a little before speaking them out loud. "It was the Canton kid."
Jed's eyes widen slightly as his brows slide buck down, furrowing. "Shit."
"Yeah." I nod, pinching my lower lip with my teeth. Funny how this little, four-letter word perfectly summed up this whole day. "Shit."
"So she just classy bitch-slapped you because she's somehow friends with him, right?"
I nod, once. Hearing the word: friends with Fiona in the context of Al in one sentence alone is way more unnerving than it should be.
"She must be hard to handle." He observes.
You have no idea.
An uncharacteristic silence passes between us after those words. I position myself next to Daylen and watch the way the tattoos across his arms dance on his skin with every move of his hands. He's nearly finished with the dinner, all that was left was cooking the pasta. I expect him to turn to me any minute now and tell me to wake up Mom. In fact, I turn to do just that when I see him turn off the stove. It's how it's always been. I don't know if it's the routine, or our silent understanding, but I just know what to do now.
"Wait." Daylen's voice stops me.
I freeze halfway to the door and turn. My eyes fall on his form leaning against the kitchen island. I take in the rigid line of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders and the dark spark in his eyes, the one that always appears when he gets troubled or determined about something. My forehead creases automatically and I feel my heart miss a bit before picking up beating a bit faster than before.
Something's wrong.
"What's up?" I ask, trying to sound casual.
I see him roll the words around in his mouth, the way I did just a moment ago. My whole body tenses as I wait for him to speak, already knowing I'm not going to like what's going to come out of his mouth next.
"There's something I need to tell you." He finally says.
I gulp so hard I feel my Adam's apple bob. I was right. Good news never comes after those holy seven words are spoken.
"I want to join the Army."
There. He said it. And now I have to hold on to the nearest cupboard to support myself and not hit the floor on my knees.
Everything stops. My breathing. His.
His blinking. Mine.
Our pulses pause and quicken as we stare at each other, panicked.
We both gauge each other's reaction and wait. Him for me to accept it. Me for him to start laughing and tell me he was joking and that I should see my face. He used to do it a lot when we were younger. Maybe this is one of those times.
Maybe he's not serious.
But the moment I focus on his eyes, I can see he is. They're dark. More than usual. Just a moment ago I said they get that way when he's troubled or determined, I just didn't know what it was back then. Now I do.
He's both. Troubled, because he's afraid of my reaction. Determined, because he's already made his decision, and he's not going to change it.
That's when I get it.
He's not asking me for permission. Why would he? He's the older one. The one who never needs anyone's approval, who won't let anybody hold him down. So no, he's not asking for my opinion.
He's informing me.
And that hurts worse than anything else could. Worse than Fiona's slap today. More than seeing her with Al, so cheerful and happy. Because he's already made his choice.
And he didn't choose us.
"What division?" I ask, my voice devoid of any emotion.
The tension in Daylen's shoulder releases a little as he swallows. "Third Infantry. They station in Georgia." He adds.
I nod. Georgia. Three hours flight from here. About as much as to where Dad currently stations in New York.
"Georgia." I repeat, keeping my voice calm. "Guess Mom would have loved it. If only she could get on a plane."
"Jed -"
"Did you talk this through with Dad?" I ask, cutting him off.
I I know the answer even before he shakes his head.
"Not yet. I wanted you to be the first one to know."
How considerate.
"Why? Because you knew I wouldn't throw a tantrum or start crying?" My tone has gone from calm to raging and the accusation in my voice is clear as a day.
"Keep it down." Daylen warns, his eye darting to the ceiling. "You'll wake Mom."
Right. We wouldn't want her to overhear our conversation accidentally.
I let out a puff of air and thrust my hair into my hair, hooking them in the thick strands. I can't believe we're having this conversation. Not now. Not with Daylen.
"Why?" I ask, turning to him fully. "Are you bored with your little fights? Is it not enough? Did you enter the road to Damascus and want to be a good boy from now on?"
"Jed." Day cuts me off, a clear warning in his voice. "Don't."
"No. You don't." I fire back. "How do you see all of this? Leaving Mom only with me? Did you even think about her?"
Something in Daylen's eyes cracks but he doesn't let his outer shell do just that. "You won't be alone. Dad's contract's about to finish. He'll be back soon."
"Or he'll sign another contract or extend this one. You can't possibly think that after having worked so long there, he's going to just come back. This is not how the world works."
His head cocks to the side slightly and he looks at me with an intensity only he's capable of. "Since when does my little brother tell me just how the world works?"
"Since my big brother decided to become and idiot and enlist to the Army."
He cracks a smile, but it's crooked, subdued, and all kinds of wrong.
"It won't be this bad, Jade. Just think about the money."
I wince at the old nickname. He started calling me it during my mutation when I sounded like a girl. He doesn't get to use it now. Not to soften my attitude. It's not going to work anyway.
"What will I do with the money when I'm left alone with Mom? I have work, school, and homeschooling to bring together. I'm not worried about my comfort because that's not the important part here. But how do you think will I be able to connect these three things, and take care of Mom in between?"
"We could hire someone to help."
I blink. I can't believe he just said that.
"No." I say categorically. "We're not hiring anyone."
Daylen's eyes soften in the way they always did when I was younger and would get stubborn about something. He always got this look I hated and told me that sometimes, life happens, and that there was nothing I could do about it. Back then, I didn't think I could hate that face even more.
Ten years later, it turns out I was wrong.
Because I hate it even more now. I hate that he is the reckless one here, and still thinks that what he's planning is the right thing to do. I hate it that he's ready to leave home, leave Mom, leave me, this easily. I hate it that I don't know how to convince him how idiotic this whole situation is.
Because if there's one thing I hate above everything else, it's the feeling of hopelessness.
And now I feel hopeless. So much.
"I'll come and visit. Whenever I can." He assures me. "I'll be taking part in the training first, so they'll keep me stationary for some time."
"And what when the training's over? What then? How the hell can you visit when you're in some fucking Afghanistan or Korea?" I no longer care about keeping my tone calm. My patience's gone. All I have left now is venom. "And what if something happens to yo-"
"Jed!" Mom's voice cuts me off. I instantly snap my mouth shut and turn my head in the direction of the door.
"Yes?"
"Is Day here yet? I think I heard him speak." She calls.
I glance at my brother sideways. "Yeah. He's here."
"Wonderful!" I can hear the smile in her voice. My heart drops. She wouldn't smile if she knew what her older son is planning. I steal a look at Daylen once more. By the expression on his face, I can tell he's thinking the same.
"Could you come and help me get down to you, please?" Mom asks.
"Coming!" I head for the door, but stop before I can exit the kitchen. Turning to look at Daylen over my shoulder, I send him a look. There's a message hidden there. A message he understand.
We'll talk about this later.
My brother nods curtly and I slip out of the room. Running up the stairs, I head to Mom's room and help her get down.
And during the whole dinner, I keep my mouth shut and let Daylen entertain her with little stories of the past week. Little does she know that those stories mean nothing.
Because in the end, she's not going to hear them anymore. Because her eldest son decided to choose freedom over her. Because he doesn't love her enough to stay.
Because the thing is, she loves him too much to make him.
We both do.
***
L/N: Gooood mooorniiin'! I have some news for you. As you've probably already noticed, I added cast to Ada's story. I didn't want to do this at first, but after some of you asked me to do so, I finally gave in. But please note, the cast is just a suggestion. It doesn't show fully how I imagine my characters, and it doesn't have to be equal to your picture of them. I added the names that come the closest to how I see them in my messy, messy mind. I just hope you like my choices :)