Page 81 of Ominous: Part 1
He sighs, loudly, and I watch his chest rise and fall beneath his loose shirt. Everything is loose on him now. He’s a little taller than me, average height I guess, and he’s never been big, but he just seems so much smaller than he used to. When he was my big brother and I was hanging around the back of our apartment complex, watching him smoke with his friends and pass around stolen bottles of liquor.
When I was fourteen and one of his friends snuck into my room.
“You get any sleep last night?”
“What’s it matter to you?”
“I’m just making conversation.”
“At five in the morning?”
He rolls his eyes. “Just be careful, all right?”
I grind my teeth so hard my jaw aches, but it still doesn’t keep the words in. “You do realize the irony of your warning?”
“I knew you were going to start with this shit,” he mutters.
Heat flares through my chest and I drop my arms, gesturing toward him. “Are you kidding me—”
“You werefourteen,not a fucking toddler.” He scrubs a hand over his tired face. He looks older and harder than he is, and I don’t remember when he got that way, it was so gradual. “He made out with you, so what? You’ve blown this entire thing out of proportion, built it up to be bigger than it was and—”
“You have no fucking idea what he did!” He didn’tmake outwith me. He didn’t even kiss me. But I remember the feel of his body on mine in the dark, in mybed.I remember how he told me Seb wouldn’t care, how my brother knew, and he was busy with a girl, and he just let it happen. I remember feeling paranoid after, for years.Even now.But as all those thoughts rush through me, I slash my hand through the air like I might break apart the cobwebs of the memory.
Sebastian is momentarily silent as we stare off. I wonder if he remembers the cup we passed around in his room, before. Handing me his cigarette so I could take my first pull. How I coughed but they all cheered. Half a dozen of his friends, guys and girls both, but Richard or Zach or whatever his name was, singled me out. I went to my room, shut the door, but it didn’t have a lock.
And Sebastian forgot about me.
“It was more?” he asks, now, quietly, but there’s a reluctance in his voice, like he doesn’t want to know. We’ve danced around this for years. He does a better job of looking after me now, like penance. Or so he thought, until Shoreside happened.
“Oh, please.” I’ve got my arms crossed again and I look down. I shouldn’t have said anything. It doesn’t even matter anymore. I’m mostly over it, but I can’t resist testing his words. “Like he didn’t brag to you in the morning.”
“Eden.” He says my name through gritted teeth.“If he had fucking dared,I would have killed him.”
I keep my eyes on the floor. “Please get out.” There’s no venom in my voice. I don’t care about this shit. I just need to pee, and I think about skipping the workout video to try to go back to sleep, but abruptly, my mind flickers to the sharp, strong points of Eli’s collarbones and my resolve strengthens.
Seb shakes his head, closing his eyes a second before he’s looking at me again.
“Really. I don’t need you looking over my back. I’m fine.” The words are petulant. I don’t care.
He snorts. “Yeah? History would beg to differ. Besides, I’m your brother. I’m not going to stop.”
We stare off for a moment. I want to tell him he needs to look after himself. I want to tell Mom she needs to do something to save him.
But I don’t say or do any of that. I stay silent.
Sebastian sighs, then turns, heading to his room. “You really need to get more sleep.” He mutters those words beneath his breath. A second later, I hear him snorting, then coughing, and I flick on the bathroom fan to drown out the rest of the noise.
* * *
Eli:Why do you look upset?
I read the text under my desk, Ms. Romano’s back to the class as she writes the word “occidere” on the board. I had forgotten to turn my phone on silent this morning, eager for any vibrations in the night coming from Eli, really the only person who texts me when I’m home.
Amanda has waned off, and I feel a little guilty I can breathe easier without her frequent check-ins.
I glance at Eli to find him looking back at me, smiling.
Someone kicks his chair—the girl to his left, chewing gum again as she is every morning—and the flash of irritation in his eyes catches me by surprise at how violent it is, like he’s thinking about jamming one of the metal chair legs into her esophagus.
