Page 5 of Longing for the Minotaur
He’s still staring at me as if this is all new information, which gets under my skin. Does he not have any idea what those four years were like for me? When I got tits in ninth grade, he stood by while his own friends teased me for it. I had no choice in when I got boobs, and never once did my older “brother” protect me.
“So it’s about more than just grades,” he says, more to himself than to me. “High school was years ago. I graduated before you became a sophomore. Why would you blame me for what happened there?”
Is he really this stupid? “You set the tone. You and your friends, you made me a pariah, and thatnever changed, Banon. When you went to college with a football scholarship, you were everyone’s idol. Your legacy lived on long past when you left.”
Unsteadily, he sits down at the very edge of the bed, a good three feet away from me. “I didn’t know, Tina. I mean, Val. I didn’t know that high school was so horrible for you.”
“Right. Of course not. It isn’t like you ever came home again once you moved out. You just up and forgot about me.”
First, Banon appears surprised. Then, his brows lower and he exhales ahuff.
“I never forgot about you. That’s not true at all. Not in the least.”
We clearly have very different memories.
“Whatever,” I say with a resigned sigh. “I’m sorry I said that thing about your grades, okay? I am.” I get up from the bed and head to the door, opening it for him. Sending a clear message to leave.
Banon searches my face, his expression confused, then regretful. I don’t know what he’s bummed about. All I did was tell him things he already knew. With another huff, he gets to his feet again and comes to the door—but he doesn’t step through it. No, he stops in front of me, peering down from his much greater height. Then he lifts his hand like he’s about to do something with it but stops halfway.
“Sorry, Val. I didn’t know I’d hurt you so much.”
I shrug. “I’m over it. We’re siblings, we forgive each other and move on, et cetera. Right?”
Something I can’t discern flickers in his eyes.
“Sure. Guess so.” Taking a step back from me, he turns and strides through the door. The moment he’s out in the hall, I close it behind him.
Even after he’s gone, though, the air smells like his cologne.
The next morning, Banon is gone before I even wake up, though I thought he’d be the one taking me back to school. That’s what my parents believed, too, so Marissa is a bit grumpy that she has to leave early to detour and drop me off.
On the way, she seems a bit sour. I’m almost certain it has to do with what I said last night, and I don’t understand why everyone is so mad at me. I’m the one who should be mad. Not that I’ve ever told Marissa about the stuff that happened at school. It felt like it would be tattling on Banon, creating tension in his relationship with his mother if I was honest with her about the bullying.
Stupid of me. He never deserved that loyalty. I don’t know why I afforded it to him when he’d never do the same for me. The one time I had a boyfriend in high school—before the ageof sixteen, which Dad had determined was the appropriate age for me to start dating—Banon ratted me out to our parents over dinner. He mentioned “Tina’s boyfriend” casually and claimed later that he forgot it was supposed to be a secret.
It had always felt intentional to me.
I’m seething even more than before when I get back to school. Now Marissa is salty with me, when I was just saying what we all know.
The weekend drags by, then it’s back to classes. That distracts me from this Banon bullshit, because it’s the week before Thanksgiving break and there are midterms to take. I’m doing pretty okay this year, feeling on top of my studies and focused on the work. I got most of my partying out of my system already, and now I’m intent on getting a good summer internship.
Soon though, it’s Friday again, which means heading back to my parents’ place. They got so insulted last year when I didn’t come home for all of the break that I decided I’d join them as soon as class got out, even though I’ll be missing a pretty awesome party.
The salt only accumulates as I pack up enough stuff for the whole week, my friends shouting and laughing out in the hallway. That could be me, but instead I’m going to end up having a quiet night in with my boring parents, probably watching a rom-com on Netflix.
Dad’s waiting at the curb when I finally leave my dorm, duffel bag and backpack on.
“Stop at the liquor store?” he asks as we drive. “Any preferences on dinner?”
“Whatever is fine with me. Maybe takeout?”
Dad orders a lot more food than we need, but I don’t ask questions because I’m always happy to eat it again the next day if it’s from the Himalayan place.
When we get back to the house, though, I’m surprised to see Banon’s car parked out front. Isn’t he going to be off partying somewhere, too? They had a football game today. Surely some cheerleader with a nice ass tempted him into going out.
Great. This is worse than just a night in with my folks. I don’t want to face him again after our confrontation last week.
My whole mood deflates as we head inside with the food and champagne. Marissa starts taking out the plates and cutlery, while Banon gets up from the table. He takes the bag from me without asking and starts opening the containers of food.
