by Bailey Hull
“Is that all you got to say?” I ask. “You just called to make a deal and brag, is that it?”
“Yeah, that‘s pretty much it. Later sis. Oh…hey before I go, lemme have Megan’s digits will ya?”
“Are you kidding me? You’ve never even seen her.”
“Your dad showed me a picture of you guys at Catalina Island last summer. She’s hot. Your dad thought we’d make a good couple and I have to agree with him.”
“No freaking way Romeo. You want her number? You figure out a way to ask her for it. But I suggest you do it after your face heals from tonight’s fight.”
“Oh I’ll get it. Just thought you’d be a little helpful to your bro.”
“Bye Brandon. Good luck tonight, you’ll need it.”
“When you got guns like mine you don’t need luck. Later sis.”
I end the call and resist the temptation to throw it against the wall. How can someone so gorgeous and talented be do damn infuriating? I so want to go to that fight just to see his ass get kicked. And yet a part of me doesn’t want that. Can life get any more confusing?
A few minutes later Megan calls me again. “Hey Jordy, how badly do you want to go to the fight tonight?”
“Uh…badly. But do ya have to rub it in?”
“Of course not. I’m gonna pick you up instead.”
“I don’t know about that Megan. If I get caught I’m dead.”
“Oh come on. How you gonna get caught. You’ll be in the middle of like a thousand people cheering Chase on. We’ll be on the opposite side of the ring so there’s no way your dad can look over or around the ring and see you. Soon as the fight is over I’ll take you home. We’ll beat your dad. He’ll be waiting with your new mom to collect your new brother. Probably have to take him to the hospital first.”
“What do you mean hospital? This is basically just like boxing right, with some wrestling thrown in for good measure?”
“Wow, you really are misinformed. Cage fighting is the most dangerous sport there is. Everybody gets hurt even the winner sometimes. Both guys will have wait around to be checked out by medical personnel before they can be taken home. So get ready cause I’ll be there at 7:30.”
“Fine…I’ll go. Nobody better ever breathe a word of this to my dad or to Brandon. I don’t want him spilling his guts the next time he’s pissed at me.”
“No problem. Now get ready. I gotta go.”
“Bye.”
The second we disconnect I charge into the bathroom to take a shower and get ready. After a quick shower I wrap a towel around me and walk out. I get about half way to my room when something occurs to me. I can’t be doing this anymore. This towel barely covers me. I do not want to be caught by Brandon nearly naked. This is going to be so strange having a guy living so close to me.
For tonight’s festivities I choose a pair of skinny jeans, a grey hoodie and UGG boots. I really don’t want to stand out tonight and the less I’m seen the better. When Megan arrives it’s clear she has a different agenda. She’s wearing a little black strapless number and three inch heels. She looks absolutely stunning! She is half Japanese and half Filipino and has gorgeous brown skin, silky black hair, and big brown almond shaped eyes. I’m no slouch in the looks department, but next to Megan I begin to look like a lizard.
“Hey, eyes up here.” She teases as if I’m checking out her chest.
“So who are you trying to snare with this?” I ask, pointing to her dress.
“Chase. After I drop you off I’m going to the victory celebration at the Zebra Lounge. He’ll be the guest of honor and I’ll he his guest of honor if everything works out as planned.”
“Well I hope running me around doesn’t cramp your style then.”
“No worries girlfriend.”
“How am I supposed to get in without my dad seeing me?”
“Stacy is posted at one of the back doors so we’ll be fine.” Then she looks at her watch. “Besides, your dad’s already seated by now. The announcer is going to start his spiel in fifteen minutes.”
Seven minutes later we’re knocking on one of the back doors. Stacy opens and ushers us in. The fight hasn’t begun yet but the announcer is already doing the intros. The fight is being billed as East versus West, the blue and the grey, good versus evil, and I wonder how Brandon feels about the derogatory comparisons. Everyone seems to believe that Chase winning the fight is a foregone conclusion. Before arriving tonight Brandon definitely did not consider himself the underdog, but he’s just about the only one here tonight who doesn’t.
“Your new brother’s kinda hot!” Megan yells in my ear. “He’s no Chase Crawford, but he’s definitely got it where it counts.”
“Step brother.” I correct.
Now that I see the two boys next to each other as the referee goes over the rules, they are like night and day. Chase is mister goody two shoes. He’s clean cut, clean shaved, and free of body art and piercings. Brandon is totally different. He has earrings in both ears, and eyebrow piercing, several days’ growth forming a goatee around his dark lips, and a shock of unruly black hair. Chase has very pale skin whereas Brandon has what looks like a permanent tan. His right arm is a complete sleeve in terms of tattoos running from his wrist to his shoulder and down to his right pectorals. He’s working on a sleeve on his left arm as well. With all that ink they guy is a work of art; a very bold work of art. The guy has a story on his body. I’m just not sure what he’s trying to say. It’s clear why the promoters are billing this as good versus evil.
This event is truly a feast for the eyes. Suddenly I catch myself. This whole time I’ve been checking out Brandon and not Chase. The one guy in the world that is forever off limits is the one I want. What did I ever do to deserve this?
“Where are their gloves?” I ask Megan.
“They’re wearing them.”
“Those little things? I thought that was the protective wraps they give boxers before they put on their gloves.”
“This ain’t boxing girlfriend. And besides, when did you think they were going to put on their gloves? It’s a little late for that.”
My brain is still locked on boxing comparisons right up until the ref drops his hand and both boys launch themselves at each other. They are hitting so fast I’m finding it impossible to track the action. They quickly become so entangled that I have a difficult time separating the two. Suddenly Chase’s head snaps back and he stumbles backwards against the ropes, blood streaming from his nose. On the other side of the arena Brandon’s fans are apoplectic. Brandon charges his stunned opponent and it looks like this fight’s going to end in the first round.
But Chase will not be easily beat. He rallies himself, puts all his eggs in a right roundhouse kick basket and practically takes Brandon’s head off. My hands fly to my face but not before I see a spray of blood spurt from Brandon’s mouth. I can hear Megan and everyone around me screaming in delight and I wonder if the fight is over. While I’m debating looking up the first round bell sounds and the fighters are separated and shown their corners.
I peek through my fingers in time to see Brandon’s trainer sponging down his face and giving him squirts of water to rinse the blood from his mouth. Every time he spits the water into a bucket it comes out pink from blood. No wonder dad hates MMA. This shit is brutal!
A second bell sounds and both fighters return to the ring. This time both have been hurt by the other so they’re exhibiting a little caution. Neither boy wants to fall victim to the other in round two. They continue to circle one another, presumably looking for an opening. Brandon sees one and attacks. This time when he drives Chase to the ropes they’re right in front of me. Chase his broad muscular back to me and his body rocks with each blow he takes. Brandon shifts and suddenly I see his bright blue-green eyes flash with fire and for the briefest of a second, a spark of …cruelty? Or is it something else entirely? Maybe it’s just pure intense excitement that can only come from totally dominating another human being through the use o
f brute force.
Abruptly a roar erupts around me. I look up in time to see Brandon up against the ropes. His body is sagging but Chase has positioned himself so that he’s battering Brandon and using his own body to keep the other boy on his feet. Several times I see Chase’s knee smashing into Brandon’s gut and lifting him completely off his feet. This fight has to be stopped before Brandon is permanently injured. One more time Chase powers his knee into Brandon’s unprotected stomach and he finally falls to the mat. I’m just about to breathe a sigh of relief when Chase drops on top of his fallen opponent and begins punching Brandon about the head and face.
“Why aren’t they stopping the fight?” I scream at Megan.
Her face is glowing with excitement. “This isn’t boxing girlfriend, this is the real deal. Besides what are you worried about? Oh no, don’t tell me. Little sis has a crush on her new brother. Oh my, are you ever in trouble.”
Now this is awkward. Everyone around me is screaming for more blood. Every instinct I have is screaming for more mercy. It’s all I can do to not climb in there myself and throw myself between the two boys. I just can’t believe the referees are actually allowing this. I can’t watch anymore. I’m just about to turn around to leave when a white towel sales through the air landing next to the boys. Instantly three refs grab Chase and drag him off Brandon. Chase is so keyed up it takes a few seconds before he stops swinging. The crowd is still going nuts. The after party for Chase is going to be off the hook.
Megan grabs my arm. “Come on Jordy, we gotta move!”
She tows me through the crowd to the back door that we came through earlier. When we get outside and the door closes behind us it’s a relief.
“That was insane.” I shout as we hurry to Megan’s car. “My ears are still ringing from the noise.”
“Yeah that was off the hook!”
“Do you think he’ll be alright?” I ask.
“I assume you’re talking about your brother right?”
“Of course. I don’t think Chase got hurt at all.”
“You know Jordan; you’re going to have to really dial it back at school Monday. You start pining away for Brandon and you’re going to lose friends fast. He doesn’t belong at Lincoln. He’s from the wrong side of the St. Lawrence and just because he lives with you now and goes to Lincoln it doesn’t mean he’ll ever belong. He’ll always be the guy from the west side of the river.”
Now I’m really beginning to get concerned. If my best friend can talk this way, how’s it gonna be with the rest of my friends or the rest of the school? It’s actually a good thing Brandon lost. I seriously doubt he’d be able to walk safely through Lincoln after kicking ass on everybody’s favorite celebrity. Ten minutes later we’re pulling up in front of my house.
“You’re awfully quiet Jordy. What’s going on in that big blond head of yours?”
“Nothing, I’m just tired I think. I’ll see ya Monday.”
“Quit obsessing on that kid. It’s only gonna get you in trouble. You got that?”
“Bye Megan.”
“Later.”
Chapter Four
My Thin Walls
I lock the front door behind me and take the steps two at a time. Once safely in my room I undress and put on my PJ’s and crawl into bed. My face! I jump up and run to the bathroom where I proceed to shed my war paint and muss up my hair a bit. I take one last look in the mirror. Satisfied that I look like I’ve spent the evening in bed I return to my room and get back in bed. I actually doze off before someone tromping up the stairs wakes me. I look at the clock. It’s just after eleven. They must have taken Chase to the hospital. I resist the urge to go downstairs and ask how badly he’s hurt. My dad will expect his sick daughter to be in bed asleep so I’d better act that way.
After a few minutes I realize something. I heard Brandon’s bedroom door open, but I didn’t hear it shut. I sit up in bed. Then I lay back down. Thirty seconds later I’m slipping on my bunny slippers. I’ll just walk past like I’m going to the bathroom and just peak in as I walk by. That’s it. I won’t stay and chat. I’ll just innocently walk past his door.
Having set my boundaries I open my door as quietly as possible and walk out. I pause; take a deep breath and turn to walk down the hall. The exact second I turn Chase steps out into the hallway and we practically run into each other. I let out a little yelp in surprise. He looks awful! His face is starting to swell despite the bag of ice he’s holding over his left eye. He’s got dried blood at the corners of his mouth, a split lip, and blood dried around the inside of one nostril. I can’t believe this. This would never happen in a boxing match; especially when it’s two teenagers who are fighting. Technically they’re adults, but at eighteen they’re still kids. I look down at his bare chest. I can still see red patches where Brandon’s ‘gloves’ were striking him repeatedly. My eyes travel down to his ripped abs before I catch myself. This is my brother I’m checking out!
“Can I help you with something little sis?” He asks.
“Y-you’re hurt. W-why are you in the hospital?” I stammer.
“I’m fine,” He replies through clenched teeth. Obviously he’s in a lot of pain. He starts to turn back around to go back into his room but when he turns, he twists his torso just a little and he reacts. His face blanches as pain shoots through his left side in the rib area. Automatically he drops his arms to his ribs for support. The forgotten ice bag falls to the floor. I pick it up and start to hand it to him until I see he has his hands full. Then I surprise myself. I take his right arm gently in my hands and I lead him back to his room and over to his unmade bed. He starts to sit, bends a little and gasps as pain shoots through his torso. I do my best to slow his fall but he’s just too big and he ends up flopping painfully on his bed with me beside him still clutching his arm. He immediately rolls to his side, bringing his knees up to his chest, and facing me. He breathes shallowly through clenched teeth.
I look into his blue-green eyes and for a second I forget that he is my brother. I forget that everything my body is feeling, every desire in my fevered brain can never be acted on. So why is it that when my arm brushes against his my whole body tingles from contact and I can’t move away from him. Or when his finger touches my cheek and traces an invisible line down my jaw to my chin before touching my quivering bottom lip that more than anything in this world I want to just kiss him? I should close my eyes. If I can just shut my eyes I’ll break the spell he has over me and I’ll be able to do the right thing here. I catch my breath as his left arm reaches around me and pulls me closer to him despite the pain that he’s obviously still in. I just about gasp in surprise as his lips brush my eye brows making my whole face tingle. I can feel his breath wash over my face and I can smell the minty freshness as he kisses the tip of my nose.
I can’t do this. I can never do this. He is my brother for fucks sake!
Then he kisses my lips. Soft at first…unbelievably tender. At first my own lips are frozen unable to respond so he becomes more insistent. His mouth parts, presses into mine, then I feel the flick of his tongue brush the underside of my top lip and goose bumps ripple up and down my spine. I have been kissed before but never like this! Never so tender…so…so I don’t know what. My lips part, his tongue darts in, slips past my teeth before colliding with my own tongue as they begin the sweetest tango.
Brandon is my brother! This can never happen…
I close my eyes! His spell over me is broken. I put my hands on his chest and push. He reacts like I’ve just tasered him, jerking back away from me. A flash of pain crosse0.s his handsome features an instant before it’s replaced by anger.
“What the hell?” He hisses through clenched teeth.
I get up and crawl clumsily across his bed and off. I want to tell him that he’s my brother and no matter how badly I want this, it can never happen. But instead I say nothing and scamper out of his room as fast as I can. My cheeks are burning with shame as I close my door quietly. Behind me I hear his
own door slam shut. I can even hear him as he stomps across his room; then silence. A few seconds later I hear a loud thump, then a second one. I think he’s just thrown his boots across the room.
If Brandon is one of those kiss and tell guys I’m gonna be in for some trouble. The last thing I need is for the whole school to know that I practically made out with my stepbrother. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was just my stepbrother. Sadly the story that would end up circulating around school would be the version where the step gets left off of stepbrother and everyone will start staring at the girl who made out with her brother. Never mind the fact that I’ve grown up with most of these people and they should know that I don’t, and have never had a sibling and certainly not a brother. In the rush of juicy gossip mongering that little fact would be soon forgotten. I’ll probably wind up in that section of the year book where they have the, most likely to succeed, most likely to become president, or famous. I’d end up being labeled as most likely to make out with her brother! Brandon better not be the kiss and tell type of my life as I have known it is over!
I don’t know how long I lie here reflecting on my future before I realize that Brandon is not alone anymore. At first I thought he was talking softly on his phone. But then I heard a female voice. Skype maybe? Then I hear a lot of moving around and giggling and it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Some girl has snuck up into his room. I remember our deal the first day we met. He’ll tell my dad I hang with him at school if I keep quiet about his late night visitors. Damn I never should have agreed with him. If I gotta lie here and listen to him make whoopee all night this is gonna be one hell of a year for me.
I try to ignore them but as they get more and more into each other they also forget that there’s a pair of ears on the other side of a paper thin wall. I can’t believe this. Is this his way of making me pay for pushing him away? He makes me listen to him banging another girl. After a while I put on my headphones and listen to music on my phone. It works for a few minutes but just the fact that I know what’s going on next to me is too much. Before long I find myself turning down my music just to keep tabs on what’s going on next door. I’m tempted to call Megan but she’d figure out how hung up I am on Brandon and things could get weird between the two of us and I don’t want that. So I suffer in silence as the two love bird’s act like a pair of bunnies. I don’t know how long they went at it, but by the sound of it Brandon knows how to please the ladies. She’s trying to be quiet but she just can’t keep it all in and I get to listen to her getting off over and over again. And if that’s not bad enough I begin wondering certain things about my new stepbrother. Things I should never think about; like just how well-endowed he is. If that slut is to be believed, the guy must be hung like a horse. Yuk! I need to wash my ears out with a bar of soap…and my brain as well. Anything to get those nasty thoughts out. And they say your senior year is supposed to be your best year in high school…