𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙰𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝟸𝟼𝚝𝚑
Griffin POV
There aren't a lot of people that I find myself grateful for, and there's a lot that have lost that place in my mind over the years, but the one person who's always stayed at the top of the list is my twin sister.
Roselyn is ditzy at best and lost in her own little world the majority of the time, but she's been the only person to stay next to my side during thick and thin. She instinctively knows when it's time to pick me up off of the ground and push me forward, and when it's time to hold her hands up and watch me run the race by myself.
She was usually the one that took care of me and fed me soup when I got sick, especially when both of our parents have always worked crazy hours. She's the one who tells me that's enough sugar or that's enough to drink. She has always known what's best.
That's why when she burst in my room an hour ago and said, "Get up! We're going to the beach!," I dragged my ass out of bed and limped out to her car. She knew what I needed before I did.
Sometimes I hate Forrest because he doesn't seem to love and appreciate her enough.
Roselyn even remembered to pack two folding chairs so that I wouldn't have to get down and up from the sand, along with her usual assortment of healthy snacks.
I toss a grape in my mouth now as we watch the Pacific Ocean roll and slide across the coast together. The sun is beginning to touch the horizon and there's something about the angle of the Earth tonight that's making the sky erupt in a million different shades of pink and orange. Huge, fluffy cumulus clouds gather at the farthest edge of the sky. I'm not a sentimental guy, however this view is breathtaking. I'm pretty sure that I had a dream like this when I almost died.
"I wish that I could be here forever," Roselyn says quietly. I hardly hear her over the roar of the ocean.
I nod in agreement and use a finger to push the sunglasses further up on my nose. "You'd definitely want Forrest in this chair instead of me."
Roselyn laughs and flicks a grape at me. "Can't you be normal and just agree with me? Of course I want Forrest here but I also want to spend time with my brother. Especially before school starts in a few days."
I watch the grape fly past my face and land a few yards away in the sand, on the other side of the chair. If I had two working legs, I'd retrieve it to throw the grape and a fist full of sand back at her. "Yeah, don't remind me. I'm trying to forget about that shit. I don't know how it's possible that this summer was one of the shortest yet also the longest one of my life."
"It was probably short up until the accident, then immediately became long," Roselyn suggests and tucks hair behind both ears. She stretches out her legs and wiggles her toes deeper in the sand.
"Yep. That about sums it up," I grumble and knock my fist against the cast.
"How much longer until you get out of that thing?"
"About a month. I start physical therapy in October and they'll upgrade me to a lighter cast. It'll act more like a heavy duty brace, they said." I scratch behind my neck and watch a few seagulls dive bomb the white caps. "As long as I can take it off at night and sleep comfortably on my side again, I don't really care what the thing looks like."
"I'm excited for you. I know that it's been a tough transition up to this point. It'll be a good day when you get your freedom back," Roselyn adds.
I nod in agreement. It'll actually be a fucking fantastic day but I'm not saying that.
We continue to sit in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, just the way I like it.
Then I hear the sound of an unmistakable engine approaching.
Could it be any other rich person who lives in San Francisco that owns a V8 engine and wants to hit up a tiny, hole-in-the-wall beach on a Friday night? Maybe. However, I've heard that car enough times in the past year to satisfy me for a lifetime.
"Don't tell me that's Miles and Parker," I say and turn my head to look at Roselyn. I could maybe bend around and look at the parking lot myself, except I finally got comfortable. Twisting around would mean that I'd have to adjust my leg all over again.
Roselyn goes through the motions for me and lifts her sunglasses off of her face as she squints. "Sure is."
"Fuck. Tell them I'm not here."
She scoffs and gives me a look that says, Really? Her attention swivels back to the car and she arches one eyebrow. "Actually, it looks like Miles is alone."
"Alone? No way, it's probably a different black man coming to kill us or sell us to a sex trafficking program." I face the ocean again and breathe the salty air. Maybe the man will leave me alone since I'm crippled. Broken legs can't fetch very good prices in that market.
"What's up, dawgs?"
Shit. That's definitely Miles.
"Hi Miles! Wow, crazy that you found us here. Oops, I forgot that I told Forrest I'd call him tonight. My phone is in the car, I'll be right back."
She scurries onto her feet and begins to quickly walk away.
My eyes land on the phone that's in her back pocket with the cherry case. That's definitely hers.
"Roselyn, you—! Never mind," I grumble and settle in my chair again. That lying bitch. My eyes swivel over to Miles as he takes a seat in the chair that she vacated. "How in the hell did you know where to find us?"
"I've got my ways. I can track down your family's bloodline like a hound dog." Miles grins and scoots around the seat, making himself comfortable. He slips his feet out of his sandals and puts them in the sand. "Why Roselyn?"
"What?" I look over at him again, my forehead creasing.
Miles meets my eyes and blinks. He tilts his head sideways. "Roselyn? You're probably the only person in this entire world that calls her by her full name. Forrest doesn't even do that."
"Oh." I watch the seagulls dive for their dinner again.
It might be the atmosphere, or the nice night that I've had with my sister, or the fact that I'm too tired to be a dick right now. Something inside of me answers him honestly.
"I don't know. It's stupid, but she was always my sister. My friend. I remember not wanting to share her when we started to go to kindergarten and shit, and everyone began to call her Rose." I scratch my fingernail along the armrest of the chair. "I didn't like falling in that category because it felt like I was loosing her. Using her name reminds me that she was my twin before she was anyone else's... anything. I dunno."
Miles hums and I brace myself for some stupid comment or prodding remark, except all he says is, "I get it. I probably would've been the same way with my sister, but the second she turned two years old I was ready to ship her off to the nearest orphanage."
Against my better judgement, I chuckle. The memory of Kenya comes to me easily. "She is a little shit."
"Yet you're still wearing her bracelet." Miles gestures towards my wrist, a smile playing on his lips.
I glance at the noodles and string tied around my hand and shrug one shoulder. "Sue me. I forgot to cut it off. Hey, I meant to ask, did you and Parker break up?"
"What?" It's Miles turn to blink and snap his neck over to me so fast that it's a wonder he doesn't break it.
"Dude, I was starting to think that you two were attached at the hip. You don't go anywhere without him, or vice versa or whatever." I flick my fingers dismissively. "Did you chain him to the front porch so you could get some air by yourself?"
"Jesus." Miles laughs airlessly. He's not amused, just shocked. "No, I didn't fuckin' chain him up. He's fine. Last I heard, he was making dinner with his parents." He pauses and taps his fingers on his leg. "He's been slowly getting better. I love him inside and out but I've been trying to start laying down some boundaries."
"It's about damn time. I seriously don't know how you're still with that kid," I point out and recline back in the chair, giving my back a chance to stretch. I don't care if Miles hates me for saying that or not.
"His good outweighs the bad, and we all have some bad shit in us. The stuff that he does and says always has good intentions, even if it doesn't come off that way." Miles tilts his head up as some seagulls fly over head. "He cares for my family and me more than anyone in my life has before. And he cares for his family, too. He's goofy and sharper then a tack—"
"And a big dumbass."
Miles smiles. "At least he's my dumbass."
"Ew. I don't want to talk about this anymore," I complain and readjust my sunglasses.
He chuckles and we both listen to the seagulls squawk, the waves hitting the sand.
"I'm sorry, by the way."
"I have literally no idea what you're talking about, Miles. I'm not a mind reader." Damn him for disturbing my peace.
"I'm sorry for the things that I said to you back in June, and for beating you up. It was stupid. I was still blindsided after coming back from Mexico and Parker told me a lot of shit that made me resent you. It wasn't fair for me to take out those emotions on your face." Miles rubs his curls self-consciously when I turn my neck to look at him. From the way he's holding his shoulders with embarrassment, I can see that he means this. "I should've went straight to you and talked about it."
He goes quiet and glances at me, his eyes packed with a little bit of fear in how I'm going to react.
I wait a few heartbeats, to see if he'll add a courtesy, But it wasn't cool that you said... or, Well, my actions were justified because you...
Nothing. He doesn't add any of that shit. He makes it seem like the night was completely his fault.
"It's fine. It's done with—"
"Griffin, it's not fine. You're my family now, too, and I messed up. I'm trying to not be my fathers son. Brothers don't do that shit to each other."
The one sentence that he uses makes my breath hitch.
I'm trying to not be my fathers son.
"Man, chill. I'll say 'I forgive you' if it'll make you shut up," I say, trying to play off how deeply his words hit me. "And don't call me your brother, I don't want to be roped in with your batshit crazy family."
That gets a laugh out of Miles, a deep one from his chest that nearly makes me crack a smile. "I can't even argue against that."
I scoff quietly in agreement. I don't know what kind of weird mind tricks he's playing on me to get me to ask this, but the words tumble out before I can take them back. "Hey, how did you manage to forgive your dad? For the shit he did? You can't say that you didn't get traumatized from all of that."
Miles huffs, and this time, he's not afraid to look at me. My muscles tense as I wait for some sarcastic response or prod at my deep question.
"It took time. A lot of it. I spent years building anger towards him, because I couldn't understand how he could look at this family that he helped create and throw it away like it was nothing. I spent every day with my mom and sister, so I always got to see how great they were. I still get sad thinking about how much he misses out on by not getting to really know them." Miles pauses. "Do you smoke?"
His question catches me by surprise. "Sometimes."
"Cool." Miles leans over onto his left hip and digs around in his right pocket, coming up victoriously with what looks like a wrapped joint and a lighter.
I raise an eyebrow as he lights up and takes a quick drag. Then, he leans over and offers it to me.
I stare down at it. "This feels gay."
"You're smoking a blunt, I'm not sucking your dick."
"Fair." I frown and take it from him. Copying his inhale, I shut my eyes for a moment and let the sensation of smoke roll down my throat. I exhale and hide the urge to cough by clearing my throat.
God, whatever he packs is the real deal.
I pass it back over to him to let my head clear up.
Miles smiles like he knows what I'm thinking and taps loose ash off of the smoldering end. "Why do you ask? Is your dad getting worse?"
"Yes. That's not even a question anymore, it's a fact. I'm going to be honest with you here: I don't know what to do about him anymore."
Look, I'm not a person that talks about stuff to get it off of there chest. I never have been. I've always preferred the bottle-it-up-until-you-explode method.
But I'll admit that there's something freeing about being able to talk about shit and get a second opinion. I'll hand it to Parker, I can see why Miles is a good fit for him. It's been a long time since I've talked to somebody about serious shit and not gotten a lecture in return.
Miles exhales, the smoke rolling back up into his nose. Some cheap trick. "So don't do anything then."
I laugh for a moment. Like, a literal laugh. Since the sun has practically disappeared behind the horizon, I take the sunglasses off and rest them on my head. "You're fucking hilarious, man."
"Nah, I'm serious! If you've tried everything to get your dad to hop off of your back, then stop trying. What do you owe him anymore?" Miles asks, holding the rolled paper back out to me.
I take it and exhale before answering. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
"Exactly. Ese es mi punto. I'd give you different advice if he was abusive or something, but if you stop feeding into his shit, the most he's going to do is stop talking about it. You have a happy place?"
"How old am I? Do I look like I have a goddamn happy place?" I ask and scowl, taking another hit before passing the joint back over.
"We all have a happy place, Griffin." Miles eyes illuminate as he pulls in a drag, the spark on the end of his joint making the light. "You've just been too busy finding reasons to hate everyone to find it. Your happy place is shitting on others, which isn't really a good idea."
"C'mon. Don't put words in my mouth," I grumble and scratch my fingers as far as I can under my cast.
"You can't say that I'm wrong." Miles turns his head towards the ocean. The breeze coming off of the water pushes the hair off of both of our faces. "I'm not asking you to forget all of the shit that everyone's done to you over the years, but I think it would be a good idea if you moved on. I don't even like your dad all that much, but I do respect him."
I snort. This oughta be good. "How?"
"I respect the children that he and your mom raised, because despite your guys faults, you're both pretty fucking cool." He taps more ash off the joint. "He's got a cool way of teaching and keeping people engaged. He's an amazing leader, when he's not running you guys into the ground. He's passionate, optimistic, enthusiastic."
"I think I've heard enough." I wave my hand.
If I've thought this once, then I've thought it a million times. God damn Miles. I despise him for making me think about other people in my life.
I wonder what it's like to have the ability to be so thoughtful of others.
Miles lips quirk. "I'm not done. For as much as you scare me, I respect you, too. Do you want to hear your qualities?"
I purse my lips together. "No."
Yes.
"Too bad. Here goes: You're, like, stupid independent. I admire how constantly realistic you are and your ambition—"
"Stop."
"You're self-sufficient, bold, and not afraid to play the judge. Plus I like how you have the balls to say what everyone's thinking."
"Jesus fuck. I hope you know that, by saying this shit, I'm still not sleeping with you," I point out.
Miles laughs. Hard. "Don't get your hopes up. My standards are very high."
"Yet you date Parker."
"Fuck off." He keeps grinning and passes the last of his joint over. I finish it off before grinding the stub into the sand with my toe and listen as he keeps talking.
"For as much shit as you give him, he's such a great kid. He's too fucking smart for his own good." Miles shakes his head, and his eyes light up again all on their own. "I really love how he balances me out, you know? He puts in so much effort in nearly everything he does. He makes me feel like I'm worth something." He pauses and looks over at me. "And I know that he misses you."
Scoffing, I readjust my bad leg. My toes are starting to fall asleep. "He hates me."
"Griffin, he doesn't. He misses you. That loss just comes out the wrong way, like the way you talk to your family. I know that you miss them, too."
His truth bomb makes my heart stutter. It's not because of the way he says it or the tone that he uses. It's almost like my soul is a grave that he's walking over, disturbing me in the process. It's weird to hear what I've been feeling for the past however-many years put into words.
"Oh my goodness, were you guys smoking pot?" Roselyn gasps and comes around the backside of our chairs.
I startle, then immediately wonder how long she's been back there. Although if her eyes are any giveaway, it hasn't been very long. She seems simply annoyed at the smell.
Miles shrugs and stands up, taking the chair he was sitting on. He folds it up. "I have edibles in my car, too, if you prefer those."
"Miles!" Roselyn groans and runs both hands over her head. "I don't want your stinking edibles! Did you drug up my brother?"
"Griffin, are you high?" Miles asks calmly, although his lips twitch like he's on the verge of laughing.
I hold up my hand and squint one eye shut as I hover my thumb and pointer finger a few millimeters apart. That finally makes him laugh.
"Unbelievable, I leave you guys alone for, like, ten minutes," Roselyn grumbles and stomps over to me. I know her well enough to see right through her act. Deep down, she's probably pissed that she wasn't here to join in.
"Relax, Roselyn. This is the best that I've felt in years," I say as I hold my hand out.
She barks out laughter and takes my palm, hauling me up onto my feet. I lean into her until she's able to hand me my cane and help me get adjusted to my footings.
"Yeah, I'm sure that it is," she notes and pats my shoulder before going to pick up the chair I was on. Miles swoops in faster and grabs it for us. She thanks him and then rambles off on the next topic that's on her mind.
He catches my eye as he walks past and winks while Roselyn's head is turned. Cheeky bastard.
To Roselyn, my words sound like some goofy, post-marijuana phrase.
To Miles and I, we know it's the actual truth.