Free The Only Brother by Caias Ward Page B

we’d set their cars on fire. Don’t think he’s going to live down two rugby girls taking the piss out of him.’
    Trevor paused for a moment. ‘You two look really cute together.’
    I laughed, even through the pain of my ribs and the hangover. Caroline smiled and took hold of my hand under the table. I could get used to this. Especially the ‘hey, I’m dating someone’ part. I can, of course, do without the ‘oh God, my ribs are on fire’ part…
    Trevor loaded us up with food and juice, which I for one really needed. I still had to talk to my parents later. It wasn’t going to be easy, and the yelling that would probably happen wasn’t going to be good for my head.
    But at least the olds were going to listen this time. Wish they’d listened sooner. But that was in the past. They
were
going to listen to me this time.

CHAPTER 8
Family, friend, friend of family
    Blog Entry For: Andrew Simmons
    Mood: Pissed Off
    July 15, 6:22PM Private
    I wasn’t sure how this is going to turn out or what I want to write here. No one else gets to read it, not even Sara, so I can say whatever I want. Learned a lot in the past few days, or maybe I just realised stuff I learned months or years ago. Not going to try to be too deep here, but maybe I’ll look back at it years from now and it will seem deep for a sixteen year old.
    The party was great, even with the surprises. I’m not one for surprises, or ambushes or anything like that, but Trevor outdid himself.Caroline and I talked about lots of things, and I’m remembering the bits and pieces about pounding Hayden now that I’m sober. I’m remembering kissing Caroline and a lot more, and I’m remembering just lying in bed with her and talking. I don’t know if we’re ‘dating’ yet, but we’re going to talk some more tomorrow and see what’s what.
    I showered at Trevor’s and got cleaned up. When I could pass for sober, he dropped me off about two streets from my house and wished me luck. Then, the walk to my door, about 11 am.
    Dad hugged me when I came in, but then he pulled away when he remembered I didn’t like people touching me. I said it was OK and dropped my bag in the living room. He asked me about the bruise on my head. I just told him it was a fight between mates, nothing special. Mum came in and hugged me. I did everything I could not to yell from the pain in my ribs.
    We talked. It was a lot of talking – at least from me. Mostly it was me telling them to let me saywhat I needed to say. Dad kept on wanting to interrupt, but I told him he just had to listen. I know William didn’t like me, based on what he said and did. I didn’t hate him, but I didn’t really love
him
either. I knew he’d got a suck deal from life, and he took lots of it out on me. I knew that he needed a lot more attention and stuff than I did, needed a lot more help. And I knew that they understood him a lot better than they understood me. I’d had to come second.
    But it still didn’t mean that I didn’t want stuff, or attention, or love. Just because I was able to do stuff on my own didn’t mean I didn’t want them to pay attention to what I did. And part of that was down to me too, I know. I just didn’t click with them. I’m not the sort of person to say that I care about people, and I think that makes me seem cold; I make sure the rubbish bins are out and I clean up after myself. I’d left everyone alone when William got sick and had his operations. And I shouldn’t have done that. I should have spoken up more, should have pushed more, because that would have been better for everyone. I shouldn’t have let William take stuff out on me, I should havebeen louder and angrier and I should have stood up for myself.
    I could have handled things better too, I know that. And I made sure that Dad and Mum knew that. But I wanted them to know that I am still here, and that for all their talk about ‘pitching in’ and ‘helping out’, they sometimes forget that. I need to