Wanting My Best Friends Brother

August

I heard the car pull up close to our house but I cared less. People came by all the time and it had nothing to do with me. My younger sister, Lorraine would handle whomever it was. She was the social butterfly, not me.

My parents were arguing about a pumpkin recipe for Halloween. The clattering of spoons and forks meant Mum was winning and that Dad was about to cave. She hardly ever lost an argument with him and he was too smart to push beyond his limits.

“The new neighbours are here,” Lorraine announced, looking through the peephole in our door. “Can I go say hi, Mum?”

Mum waved her hand in approval and Lorraine dashed out like a golden retriever, slamming the door behind her. I tugged my hoodie forward and got to work on my college application. I wanted to go to Berkeley—my grades were hot cake—but I was scared shitless of having to socialize.

“You’ll live,” Dad would say and punch my arm like a pal would. Only that I had no friends, no pen pals, no nothing except my family. Thankfully, I was almost done with the social nightmare called high school and was about to move to another point of my life.

I had zero interest in the graduation party since none of my classmates would take pictures with or of me. I was classified as a Born Nerd and worse of all, I was older than most of them because I had to repeat a class. That was before I cleaned my slate and became a straight A student.

The argument was over and the loser had to make lunch so Dad stayed behind to start the cooking. Mum came to sit beside me where I was holding a pen and staring hard at the paper.

“You’ve been like this for hours, baby. Why don’t you give it a rest? You can think of a way to impress Berkeley later.”

I nodded, acknowledging her advice but I remained as I was, poking the nib into my desk. Mum sighed and patted my back in solidarity. She was my support system and perhaps the only person who really got me. She knew when to push and not to push me too hard.

Yes, I was a twenty-one year old who loved his mother more than usual.

“Are we gonna eat or what?” Mum said to Dad who cursed under his breath. I needed my earphones to relax but they were up in my room and I didn’t feel like going up. Lorraine would have helped if she was not outside, fawning over the neighbours.

I got up, gathered my writing materials and dragged my bag upstairs. Eating lunch was not one of my priorities and they could have my share. Safe within my room, I plopped on my bed, getting comfortable on my stomach.

Under my pillow were my graphic novels, the ones I was too ashamed to read in front of my family. They were not conventional and although I refused to watch actual porn, they were close to the real deal.

Being the first child came with a lot of expectations and when the burden of acting mature became too heavy on me, I hid in my room and indulged in my adult graphic novels. It relaxed me and sent me to sleep almost everytime.

I was drifting off to sleep with my glasses on when I heard laughter beyond my window. I was rarely ever curious about anything but the laugh was unfamiliar. Lazily, I got off my bed and waddled to the window, pulling down the blinds.