~Isaac's POV~
"Justin is hanging out with his friends." Noah Hughes says, opening the front door of his mustang and unlocking the passengers side from inside.
Getting into the car I joke, "He have to go save a maiden with his three musketeers?"
Noah smirks at me, "Ha ha. You know he loves them like they're his sisters."
"Maybe he likes one as more than a sister?" I tease as we pull out of our college campus.
"Maybe." Noah says, sounding distracted.
I furrow my brow. It's not unusual for Noah to get distracted when we're talking about Justin, its like a part of his brain switches to 'dad mode' and he can only think about his brother, but I've never seen him get concerned with his brother's love life.
"What's wrong man? You don't want Justin to date or something?"
Noah sighs, "I couldn't care less if Justin decided to date any of his three musketeers. I couldn't care less if he decided to date Malcom Sheen, as long as he's happy."
Turning to look at Noah I raise my eyebrows, "Dude you wouldn't care if your brother dated a guy? That's so wrong!"
Giving me a sideways glance Noah shrugs, "As long he's happy I don't care."
He gives me another sideways look and I can feel him wanting to ask a question but refraining himself. Noah and I have been best friends for over ten years, we're more like brothers at this point than friends. He's been with me through the toughest parts of my life and he's never been afraid to ask me anything.
Except when it comes to my dad.
This has nothing to do with him, however. I look at my best friend and see him staring intently at the road. We're getting near my house and I know once I leave the car we'll act like this awkward silence never happened. Something tells me I should say something before that happens but I can't bring myself to ask what he's thinking. I'm not sure I want to know.
Noah pulls his mustang up to the front curb of my house. The car makes a wheezing sound as he brakes and a screeching comes from under the hood. I grimace and say, "Dude you need to fix that before we go to Virginia Beach or we might not get there in one piece."
"I know, I'm going to be working on her for the next couple of weekends before we leave. You should come over and help since you're so afraid."
I laugh, "Might as well make sure you're doing things correctly. I'll come by your house this Saturday to help out."
He nods and stares out the front windshield. His profile looks worried and I hold back a sigh. Noah has a tendency to take on everyone else's problems and keep his to himself. I've always wondered how he hasn't collapsed from the weight of all the problems he carries on his shoulders. Then again it's not like my life is peaches and cream either.
With my hand on my door handle I ask, "Noah, what's the matter? Use your words."
He chuckles, "Justin's keeping something from me."
"What is it?"
Giving me an exasperated look he throws his arms up, "I don't know! He's keeping it from me!"
I sigh, "Have you tried talking to him?"
"I've never had to initiate the conversation before. He's always come to me and told me what problems he has."
I nod, "Well, then maybe he has a reason for not talking to you yet. Give him time to come to you and tell you what's going on. Don't go all dad on him, you might push him away. If you want we can talk to him together on Saturday when I come by if he hasn't talked to you by then."
It's his turn to nod, "Ok, thanks, man."
Clapping him on the shoulder I get out of the mustang and say, "I'll see you tomorrow, don't overthink things with Justin, he is still a teenage boy, as you were not so long ago, and he deserves to have some secrets."
Noah smiles and nods, "Will do. Later."
I wave as he pulls away and watch his car disappear around a corner before heading up the front steps of my house. As I walk in my mind is on Justin. He's about two years younger than Noah and I. I've always seen him as an extension of Noah. Like a faux little brother of my own. He's always hung out with us and been the more hyper of us three.
Thinking about it now, Noah is right, something has changed with Justin. He's quieter now, less prone to talking or asking questions about Noah's and my life.
Of course Noah would instantly notice a change in Justin's demeanor. Those two are more like father and son than brothers. I have never met a pair of brothers closer than them. I'm not even as close to my brother as they are to each other. Of course that could be because my brother is halfway across the world at the moment.
Walking into my room my thoughts shift to Stephan. I wonder what he's doing right now? He's been gone on tour with the U.S. army for two years now. We get the occasional letter every couple of months and on a good day we can attempt to video chat but its not the same as having him here with us.
Technically he hasn't been here with us for over seven years, but at least for those first five years I didn't have to worry about getting a notice that he had been killed in action.
Sighing I plop down on my bed and pull up the pictures on my phone. Growing up, I had two superheroes in my life. My dad and my brother. Now both are gone and I feel like a part of me is missing.
I miss my dad.
And I miss my brother.
Ironically, I don't think they would have missed each other.
Laying back on my bed I stare at the last picture my dad, brother and I took together. Technically its a picture of a picture so its a bit blurry and the colors are a bit off but the focus of the image comes out just the same
A man is standing in the middle of the frame with two boys on either side. He has an arm around each of their shoulders and a giant grin on his face. One of the boys looks to be about seventeen years old and the other around twelve. Each boy is holding a fish on a hook, identical grins on their faces.
I can barely remember that fishing trip with my dad. It was the last summer we were all together. By Christmas Stephan was gone from the house and dad had become a different person. I never found out why Stephan decided to leave, he had just turned eighteen in November and then he was gone. Mom refused to talk to my dad for months after that and whenever I asked what was going on she would tell me it was 'grown up talk' and that I shouldn't worry about it.
For two years my father refused to acknowledge that he had another son and he began to take me to bible study every Sunday. When he passed away from a heart attack my mom called Stephan and I finally got to see my brother again. He had recently signed up for the military at that time and was about to leave for basic training.
Now, I only get to see him whenever he comes home on leave for a few days before he's gone again.
"Isaac? Are you home?"
I sit up and stare at my open bedroom door. I was so engrossed in my memories I didn't hear my mom come home. I call out, "Yeah mom, I'm here."
A few minutes later my mom is standing in my open doorway. She's wearing a black pant suit and her blond curls are pushed back from her face with a headband. Her realtor laniard still hangs from her neck with her badge and keys.
Smiling at me she asks, "What are you doing?"
I shake my head, "Nothing. Just thinking."
"About?"
"Stuff and things."
She gives me a perplexed look and walks into my room. Sitting next to me on my bed she asks, "What stuff? Is everything ok?"
Sighing, I nod, "Yeah. Maybe."
My mom frowns, "What's the matter, honey?"
Looking away I say, "Mom-"
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
Turning back to her, I continue, "Will you ever tell me why Stephan left?"
"It was just something he had to do," she answers, placing a hand on my shoulder, "Why are you asking?"
"But why was it something he had to do? There has to be a reason."
"Isaac-"
"And don't tell me I'm too young to understand, I'm seventeen."
She sighs and squeezes my shoulder, "It's not that, honey. I just don't think its my story to tell."
"Then whose is it?"
"Your father's," she replies sadly, "and your brother's. Its their story. I tried to shield you from the worst of their problems but I know you still remember some things."
"Why can't you just tell me what happened?"
Standing from my bed she paces in front of me, "I don't want to ruin the image you have of your brother and father. I won't do that."
"Mom-"
"No." She turns to face me, "You're right, you're not too young to know what happened, not anymore, but I won't do that you, or to them. Now, I don't want to talk about this anymore." She heads towards the door, "I'm going to finish some paperwork and start dinner."
"Mom!"
She ignores me and walks away. I stare after her until I can't see her anymore. Releasing a heavy breath I let myself fall back onto my bed. Why won't she just tell me what happened? One day I'm going to find out she might as well just tell me.
Grabbing my phone I pull up my contacts. Finding Stephan's number I hit the text button and type out a message:
Hey bro, I need to talk to you. Give me a call when you get this.
I hit send and let my phone fall to my bed. I know Stephan won't be able to get my message until he's stateside but now at least I know he'll get back to me eventually.
Staring at my bedroom ceiling I try and piece together the events of the months leading to Stephan leaving. I was very young and the memories come back in snippets. I remember Stephan joining the debate team his junior year of high school and being away from the house a lot. I remember my mom and dad arguing about his friends. There was one in particular who my dad really did not like. I remember my dad and Stephan arguing a lot but I can never remember what they were arguing about.
And I remember the day Stephan left. Or rather the day he never came back. He went out with his friends and dad went out looking for him. Stephan never came home after that. At least not that I saw. I imagine he must have come back to the house at one point because a few days later all his stuff was gone. His clothes, his awards, even the furniture in his room was removed.
I groan and rub my face with my hands, the pieces of memory flying around in my head. I remember so many things but none of them make sense. None of them piece together to form a reason why Stephan left.
My head begins to pound and I shut my eyes to try and ward off my impending headache. I don't like to think about the past, all it does is make me more confused. Sighing, I stand up and grab my towel from my closet and head for the bathroom. Hopefully a shower will help me relax and see things more clearly.
Or, hopefully, it'll just help me forget.