Twenty-Four. - Like a Child

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It was a Saturday, so all my family members were home. Before I head out, I made a stop at the kitchen to grab an orange juice box. Ashton was sitting on one of the chairs surrounding the kitchen island, casually eating something that looked like baby food—must be some sort of “healthy food” recipe he whipped up—and reading the paper. I acted how I normally would, trying not to let what happened last night interfere with my thoughts. He was just trying to protect you, I told myself.

   “I’m going to grab a froyo with Cassandra. Want one?” I asked while rummaging the fridge for my desired juice box. It was apparent to me that by throwing that question at Ashton, it meant he would have had to tag along—obviously the frozen yogurt would’ve melted by the time I brought it home—if he answered yes, and it also meant Cassandra and I couldn’t have the conversation we needed. But I wasn’t counting on a yes. I knew he didn’t believe in frozen yogurts being a healthy snack; he thought it to be tantamount to ice creams, so he would try to get it as far away from him as possible. I knew all that. Of course I did. I just wanted to start something that would make him fire back an insult like, “Nah, I’ll pass. Good luck on being fat though.” or “Don’t call me if you get diabetes from eating that sugary crap.” I just wanted to know if we were alright.

   Okay, so the initial plan of trying to not let what happened last night haunt me, failed.

  “Frozen yogurt?” Ashton replied, still looking at the paper in his hands. His actions right now reminded me of Dad a little.

  “Oh I know, too cool for that, huh?” I tried sounding as though nothing was bothering me; as though I wasn’t trying to make things right; as though there was nothing to fix.

   “Eryn, I’m your brother. I know you'd remember when I tell you things like how I think frozen yogurts are bogus. Look, I’ll shut up about Dillan, okay?”

   I was stunned for a moment, letting my body feel the cold air from the fridge softly gliding across as my mind tried coming up with a response. I felt exposed somehow, like Ashton encroached my thoughts without my permission. Everything he said was spot on, to a point it was a bit eerie. It should have been expected since he was my brother after all, but before this we never really had such a disagreement. This fallout seemed to be a testament somehow, to how well he knew me as his sister. Though not well enough to understand he couldn't protect me from everything.

   “Fine,” I finally managed to say, “you’re right, I do remember. So no frozen yogurt for you then.” My last few words came out in a tremble and I started pacing towards the front door until Ashton stopped me by saying, “You can’t expect to fix things all the time, you know.”

   I turned to face him. “So what, I’m supposed to pretend it’s okay for you to hate Dillan?”

   He lowered the paper and said, “I’m not going to pretend I’m okay with you seeing him, because I’m not. You’re just going to have to accept that.”

   Translation: do whatever you want, I don’t care.

   My heart sank a little.

   If I were to put myself in Ashton’s shoes, I guess I could comprehend why he was being so hard on me, though I wished there was something I could do to make him think otherwise. But maybe it was too soon for him to have a change of perspective towards Dillan. He had the right to judge based on what he knew. Give it time, my inner thought interrupted. With that, I proceeded towards the door without a word. Time was all I could count on at this point.

                                                             .~'.*.'~.

The sky outside was flushed with a gloomy grey colour—parallel to what I was feeling inside. Dented floors cupping water and splashes of it everywhere else confirmed the occurrence of rain earlier in the morning. I wore my hoodie and rain boots out just in case it starts pouring again. Walking along the pavement, I had the sudden urge to jump on one of the puddles. Not step on it, like literally jump on it like what a little kid would do. Such simple and childish gesture had always radiated a sense of carefreeness to me. Once accomplished the perfect puddle-jumping, I had the feeling like nothing in the world could ever hurt me, even if it only lasted that brief few minutes. Sometimes having a pretentious outlook on life helps in getting by, it’s like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel finally coming into sight. I don’t know how will I deal with Cassandra and Dillan and Matt and my dress and prom, but whatever outcome was going to hit me, I had to pretend everything’s going to be fine in order to face my problems.

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