Staying Grounded [BXB]

False Truths

CRAIG:

I've been alone in my room all day, the house beyond its closed-door as silent as a tomb, and my nerves are stretching ever closer to mutiny.

There's nothing overly unusual about returning home to find it empty, nor is it cause for suspicion that it's remained that way for so long. I can come up with a list of probable family outings just off the top of my head. Honestly, I should be grateful for the reprieve, taking advantage of it to pull myself together. But instead, the deathly quiet rests hard and heavy in my gut, each passing second weighing more than the last. My mind is an unfocused tangle of dread.

Not even a hot shower and a clean change of clothes have helped. Now, I'm lying flat on my back across my bed, staring vacantly up at the ceiling. I've long since abandoned any hope of sleep.

After an early escape from Derek's flat, sneaking past the sofa where he snored and mumbled, I'd made the walk of shame across town back to Roxy. I took pains to evade notice, skirting a wide berth around the high street, taking back alleys. My clothing rumpled and my eyes bloodshot; the restful Sunday morning streets felt like a blessing. A fine rain refreshed my parched skin. And the familiar purr of Roxy's engine, surrounding me like a comfort blanket, eased the pounding in my head exactly as I knew it would.

But, then...

Then, I hadn't counted on my brother. I hadn't thought to anticipate him at all.

Barely before the seat got a chance to warm beneath me, Alex bolted from his house like he'd been poised for the sound. My heart leapt at the sight of him, only to plummet like lead with its next beat as his gaze met mine. For the briefest moment, the urge to flee him — to yank the gearstick and slam down on the pedal — had been fierce.

I lowered the window, smiling to dispel the obtrusive tension. He'd not spared me the same courtesy, his thick brows bunched as he ducked his head to the widening gap.

"Where've you been?"

"So, you're talking to me now?"

"Bas left me a message. He sounded worried, said you freaked out and disappeared on him. I've been trying to call you all fucking night. Where've you been?"

He could not have made a poorer choice of words. It took nearly as much restraint as I had to bite back a caustic retort, but my silence served me no better.

"Seriously, bro, still?" His chilly eyes raked over me. "Still with this shit?" He missed nothing with that look, I'd swear. My every misdeed of the past 24-hours pulled from me, a hollowed trench of reproach left in its wake. "Guess I underestimated just how determined you are to crash and burn, huh?"

And that...

That had been the full extent of our exchange, our first in a fortnight.

When I looked away from him, Alex turned away from me, and when I hadn't called him back, he'd given up. Vanishing into his house without a backward glance as rapidly as he appeared from it, the slam of his door shuddering my bones.

Two weeks I've been ghosted by him. Two-goddamned-weeks, I've gone out of my way to get him back on side. Yet, it was on Sebastian's behest and not mine that he responded.

I found sixteen missed calls and a dozen texts awaiting me when I retrieved my phone from the kitchen counter, exactly where it'd been left and seemingly untouched. None were from Mum or Dad, one message was alarmingly from Gary, and that's as much notice as I took before retreating to my room and tossing the cursed thing in the wastepaper basket.

It's currently buzzing, the fourth time since I ditched it there and the second this past half-hour, vibrating against a noisy bed of cola cans and crisp packets. I should have probably turned it off.Removing my arm from my forehead, I push myself up to sit and swing my legs off the side of the bed.