Amos

The buzz lifted and the sudden sting that pierced my eyes surprised even me. I wiped them away and kept my hands on the steering wheel, staring at the traffic ahead while my brother crossed the terminal.

How do lies work? I have never been able to keep one alive for long, the make-believe slipping away until all that is left is the raw hide of the untruth.

I could see without much effort, Cedric look both ways before crossing the street and dragging a suitcase behind him, and with them lowered, I only saw the second pair of sneakers dodging cars with a trolley.

I blanched and looked at the rearview mirror, pulling on the latch for the trunk. Cedric hauled it open, and shoved the suitcase inside, later working on emptying the trolley held by tanned freckled hands.

My brain hit the snooze button and my concentration returned just when my brother settled in the co pilot seat, slamming the door closed.

“Right, we got everything.” He breathed heavily.

“Welcome back.” I called out politely to the body filling the back seat.

Why shouldn’t the so called body lean forward and rest his head on the shoulder of my seat, saying in a voice rid of hormones and juvenile skipped beats, “What can I say, I missed your cooking.”

My left leg fell asleep with a severe cramp at the knee and I smiled weakly as Cedric cackled and Glen chuckled.

--

“Wow. The place looks exactly the same!” Glen smirked, looking about the living room.

Enough said so that my mother could trample over everyone else in her way to tackle him with long lost maternal love.

I was invited to dinner along with Glen and we ate pasta like the old days. I didn’t cook this time, though.

I sat uncomfortably through the meal, playing with my spaghetti. I heard only snips of anxious conversation.

“Yeah, she’s better now, almost with a fool head of hair too.” Was one of the big ones but the biggest of all was when he said “And my girlfriend was real supportive too.”

I looked up with crinkled eyes from an awkward smile. “What was her name?”

He turned his head and took a look of recognition before replying. “Sam.”

His rugged four o’clock shadow and the trimmed hair curling slightly at the edges of the deep “v” that formed his hairline and his large hands were a strange presence from the Glen I recalled.

“When will you return to California? Cedric never said.”

Glen glanced at Cedric then at my mom. “I’m not sure, I’m taking a break from the past….well you know. I also missed you guys.”

“Are you going to Canada too?”

“Canada?” He frowned slightly looking lost.

I glanced at my brother to check if I was being rude. “Well, those are your original childhood friends…”

He stared at me blankly and I felt stupid, lowering my eyes and sipping water from my glass.

“Lets not think of when you’ll be leaving, but how long we can convince you to stay!” My mom rang happily and I continued to make my pasta threads smaller and smaller with the side of the spoon.

--

It was December 27th meaning Glen had been gone about half a year.

I had my own apartment rented and a decent paying job as a waitress while I went to school.

And Glen was staying over me flat throughout his visit, because guess where I lived?

After dinner, I drove us to my place in deep silence. He took one look at the building and his breathing changed.

The large pink building stood proud and the creek reeked less in the winter.

I got out and before closing the door, noticed he was staring at the building with awe.

“Get out so I can lock the door.”

He blinked at me in a daze and slid out of his seat and unto the pavement.

“Your living here?”

“Yep.” I reply dismissively and hurry to get inside and away from the cold.

He followed me with his suitcase and few other things as I climbed the stairs to the first floor and pausing at the first door to my left.

I pulled out a small key and turned the lock of the knob.

I flicked the lights on as we stepped inside and I hooked my keys and scarf on a bar of wood with nails curved upward in a straight line.

“You can drop your things there.”

“I can’t believe this…” He murmured lowering his torso to drop his bags.

I had spruced up the place a bit; I added closet space and walls. There was color and life.

“Why?” he asked just as softly without looking at me.

“The space was available and near my mom.” I sighed tiredly. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

--

I’ve come to realize the gravity of the situation, upon catching him coming out of the bathroom with perspired beads of a sauna clinging to his skin as aired the shower from the heated bath.

I look away, but the damage is done.

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind that I took a shower.”

“No problem.” I have a feeling that if he hasn’t noticed already, he’ll soon see how I’m avoiding accurate responses and eye contact. He’s not so dumb as to never catch it, I’m actually curious to see when he’ll say something about it.

He crossed the hall to his bedroom door.

I really should reign in my stupidity.

“Marge?”

I looked up at him leaning against the doorway with his chest still bare. I didn’t flush or blush from the anger I felt at myself. “Hmm?”

“To set the record straight, are you angry at me?”

My smirk flittered across my face but never settled. “No.” What a joke.

“Then what’s the animosity about?”

My face sagged with uncertainty. “What are you talking about?”

He settled his face in a frown and surprisingly hurt me more than the situation.

“We weren’t like this and I don’t know what changed.”

It wasn’t a question so there was no answer required. But his stare proved otherwise.

“Time.” I shrugged and when I moved to head to my room, his hand fell on my elbow, keeping me still.

“Is it my fault?” He whispered, with his eyebrows deep-set curves. He dismissed what I had said.

“No, its mine. Dinner will be ready in a few.”

I know I’m cutting it short being curt to a guest, but fuck it.

I’m not falling into this shit anymore.