The Only Brother Read Online Free

moment.
    Sara and I were at my mate Trevor’s, watching the telly, and just balled up on the sofa together. Everyone else was drinking and smoking and whatever, about a dozen of us all over in Trevor’s basement. His olds were never around and never actually took stock of the drinks cupboard, so everything flowed freely. Sara and I weren’t ones to drink or smoke, or anything; just not our thing. You could say that our vice was each other. I couldn’t get enough of her and she couldn’t get enough of me.
    It wasn’t even the sex – although there was lots of sex. No, it was just having someone there you could talk to, laugh with, be around without any pressure. Someone just accepting who you are, no matter how strange you turn out to be.
    ‘I’m your friend, dammit,’ she would yell at me, ‘which means you aren’t ever going to get rid of me, even if I have to strap you to the hood of my car!’
    No hang-ups about who fancies who, or who’s going to be serious about what, oranything. Just two people spending time with each other and not caring what anyone thought of it.
    Classes flew by with her, days and nights stood still, and a year of study was just moments. It was everything I ever saw in those afternoon movies I usually changed the channel from, but she insisted we keep on watching. Yet it wasn’t like she was a girlfriend; just a friend who I trusted with lots of thoughts concerning my life. A friend who happened to be a girl.
    And Trevor takes pics of everyone. Good pics, like the downshirt shot of Emma when she bent over to pick something up, and bad pics like Bobby passed out and Ricky sticking his arse in Bobby’s face. But then there was our shot, Sara and I just tangled up in each other watching the telly and talking about which Doctor Who is the best one –
    And then a grey scar of pencil mark scrawled across Sara’s face as my dad slapped my shoulder and kept his hand there. It ranfrom jaw to forehead on her, almost ripping the paper.
    ‘Bloody hell!’
    ‘What?’ my dad said, still keeping his hand on my shoulder.
    ‘You messed up my drawing! What the hell is wrong with you?’
    I took out one of my gum erasers, working on the scar with plastic surgeon skill. I could always fix it on the computer after I scanned it, but that’s not the point. Once again, my olds get in the way and screw up something I’ve worked on, something that was mine. They never did that to Will, never got in the way of anything he did.
    ‘It was an accident.’
    ‘Just don’t touch me, OK?’ I hissed.
    ‘Alright.’ My dad sank into his seat, finally pulling his hand away.
    I kept working on Sara’s face, dabs and wipes and touches of the eraser finally restoring her to her natural tone of pencil shades.
    ‘I just don’t want anyone touching me,’ I mumbled to my dad.
    ‘You never have, Andrew,’ he said. ‘I just don’t get it, though. We’re all that we’ve got now – you, me and your Mum. And you keep on fighting us about everything.’ His voice trailed off, cold and hollow like it does when he tells anyone how he is doing
alright
.
    ‘I’m not fighting anything. Just don’t want you touching me.’ I kept on sketching, finally cleaning everything up.
    ‘I swear, you’ve always been like this.’ His hands squeezed the wheel. ‘Never wanted anyone touching you as a baby, no hugs growing up.’ He laughed weakly. ‘Mum always thought you were a little grumpy old man in a baby’s body. Never made a fuss as a baby…’
    Not like you would have listened if I
had
said anything. Maybe I’d screamed up a storm and you didn’t notice between driving Will to various doctors. Maybe I didn’t go
look at me, look at me!
all the time, because I’d already figured you were doing all your looking at Will. Maybe I didn’t want to waste my time. Maybe there were better things to do than fight for something I was never going to get.
    And through all this, Dad just kept on talking at me. He was back