Free Love's Forbidden Flower by Diane Rinella

do.”
    “Then please believe that I know what I'm doing. I was wrong to throw Brittny at you. I didn’t know what else to do. We need to go on with our lives as a normal brother and sister.”
    “You have yet to really talk to me. It just seems like if I understood better it would be easier. Oh, man! Why does my head hurt so badly? I just want you to come out of hiding.”
    “I can’t, Lil. I can’t tell you what I'm feeling, and I can’t be with you. Not now. I don’t know when.” His voice returns to what others must perceive as a normal volume. “You’re just lucky dad left for his business trip early this morning and missed the drama. But if you pull another stunt like this I’ll turn you in. Get some sleep.”
    Once there is time to process everything, my heartache will return. Right now the guy using a nail gun on my head needs to go away.
    “Wait! What ultimatum? And why does my forehead hurt so much? Did you headbutt me?”
    “Yes, after you almost ran us into a tree.”

Chapter 10
    My life is unrecognizable. Donovan's smart. He's set up his life with militarily regimentation so it's easy for him to escape me and everyone else. Mondays and Thursdays he’s off studying with a tutor. On Tuesdays he disappears to guitar lessons. Wednesdays his new girlfriend, some cute girly-girl named Lisa, comes over to study in his room where their obnoxious giggling is barely covered by the loud music they play. When the weekend comes, Donovan disappears almost entirely.
    Ever since the morning after my drunken escapade, he's scarcely said a word to me. When he does I've no idea what to expect. Often he sits across the table at dinner and sneaks looks at me through sad and longing eyes, yet there are other times when all I do is say “good morning” and he shoots me a glare that makes my blood chill.
    Donovan's being invariably on edge and Dad's increasingly macho attitude is putting Mom constantly on her guard, making me apprehensive about everything. I can't remember when I've had a decent night's sleep, and my appetite disappeared weeks ago. My head feels eternally in a fog while the curves that I've always been so proud of slowly vaporize.
    Dad keeps raving about the “lovely Lisa” with the adorable face and perfect body. If it goes on for another second I'm going to lash out at him not only for his crudeness, but also for his lack of respect towards his wife. Dad treats Mom like a second-class citizen, and I don’t understand why she accepts it. She was a Litigation Paralegal until she married in her late 30’s. How she went from being self-sufficient to subservient escapes me. I should speak my mind, but my hands are wildly shaking. Maybe it's because I have to tell Donovan that dinner is ready.
    The last few days Donovan's been a walking encyclopedia of dickdom. Steering clear of his wrath seems to be impossible, as he strives to be nasty to anyone within barking distance. The thought of approaching him gives me the willies, like looking at a furry spider.
    In hopes of avoiding a fight, I write a simple note stating, “Dinner is ready” and slide it under his bedroom door.
    Instantly Donovan emerges from his lair and starts roaring. “What the crap, Lil? Can't you even be bothered to tell me?” He crumples the note and savagely throws it on the floor. The action calls my attention to a sizeable contusion on his arm. Again? When did that one happen?
    “I don't want any problems tonight, all right? The last few days have already been rough enough.”
    “Oh, like your life is so freakin' hard! Poor little Lily, the fragile flower that can do no wrong. Trust me, you have no idea what a hard time is.”
    “I am sick and tired of never knowing what to expect with you! Yesterday when I interrupted your concentration, you yelled at me and then shot me nasty looks all through dinner. I should have known better. It has to be incredibly hard for you to form a thought, let alone get it down on