Page 3 of Chasing After You
“‘Cause I’d be able to protect you.”
His words sat heavy on my chest, much heavier than the comforting weight of his body pressed to my side. I didn’t know how to respond, not really. There were so many things I wanted to say—things I wasn’t sure I should.
“Dori, you don’t need to protect me. I’m fine. Plus, that’s my job. I’m the big brother.”
“I just wish they were different.”
I reached down and held him tighter.
“I know,” I murmured. “I know it’s hard. But we’re going to be okay, alright? As long as we’ve got each other, we’ll be okay.”
He didn’t say anything for a while. I thought maybe he’d fallen asleep, but then I felt his breath shift.
“Promise?” he asked, so quietly I almost missed it.
I swallowed hard. “Yeah. I promise.”
The promise tasted like ash in my mouth because deep down, I wasn’t sure I could keep it. The closer I got to eighteen, the more afraid I was becoming. Mom and Dad hadn’t said anything about it, but I felt in my gut that they’d make me leave.
Make me leave Dorian behind.
“Come on, get some sleep now, buddy.” I planted a light kiss on his forehead.
* * *
It started small, the way most rebellions do. Dorian stopped wearing the clothes Victoria laid out for him. At first, she thought he’d just forgotten, and she’d send one of the house staff to remind him. But he’d smile that tight, almost-too-sweet smile and say, “I didn’t like the color,” or, “It didn’t feel like me.” When pressed, he’d shrug nonchalantly and offer nothing more.
She couldn’t punish him outright, not without risking a scene, but her lips thinned every time he walked into a room dressed in one of my sweatshirts and a petty smile.
Then he began missing his lessons. “I forgot,” he’d say with a blank face when Daniel confronted him. “I guess I was tired.” He stopped taking notes during French tutoring, stopped trying in piano, and began giving one-word answers to his etiquette instructor, who eventually quit, claiming Dorian had an “uncooperative attitude.”
I was immeasurably grateful that the man had kept the details of Dorian’sattitudeto himself. I imagined he was worried about our parents ruining his reputation and career if they’d known about their darling boy setting the poor guy’s bag on fire, throwing his cellphone out of a window, or locking him in the bathroom for the entirety of their lesson time.
Still, I didn’t expect the outburst at the fundraiser.
It was their annual charity gala, an event hosted solely to boost Daniel’s standing in the social circles they fraternized with. Dorian and I were both expected to attend, groomed and dressed up to be our parents’ accessories.
Victoria had rented the most expensive and ostentatious ballroom available in the city, hired the best caterers, and booked a string quartet for the entertainment.
At first, he stood beside me quietly, sipping the sparkling water they’d poured into his champagne flute to make him look the part. But when one of Daniel’s friends came up to us and started gushing about how lucky I was to have been adopted by such generous and upstanding individuals, Dorian cracked.
“More like they just wanted free labor,” Dorian said flatly. My heart practically dropped into my stomach, eyes widening in disbelief that he’d just said that.
I stammered, “I-I’m so sorry. He’s just joking. I’m very fortunate, sir.”
The man chuckled and smiled awkwardly at me, clearly uncomfortable, but Dorian wasn’t done. He stepped forward, voice rising with every word. “They didn’t want to raise me, so they got him to do it. I guess actually taking care of their kid was too much for them.”
The room went still. Victoria’s hand froze mid-toast. Daniel’s eye twitched.
“Dorian,” I said under my breath, grabbing his wrist.
But he pulled away. “Honestly, I wish they’d both eat a massive bag of dicks.”
Stunned silence was only interrupted by a few scandalized gasps. I risked a glance at Daniel, finding him staring at me with open hatred. My hands trembled at my sides; my throat closed up from panic.
Victoria cleared her throat, using a little silver spoon to draw attention towards her by tapping on her glass. “I’m deeply sorry for our youngest’s outburst. We weren’t planning on sharing this, as we believe it’s a family matter, but he’s been struggling with some behavioral issues. Please, don’t think of him poorly. He’s really such an intelligent, wonderful boy. I’m not even surewhere he learned that profanity. We love both of our sons dearly. It’s true, we weren’t as attentive to Dorian when he was younger as we should’ve been, but we went through so much with our fertility issues and the adoption.”
Her voice was sweet and sad. She even summoned a few tears to add to the performance. I heard murmurs from the crowd of, “Oh, the poor woman,” and “Bless their hearts.”
