Too Close for Comfort

Summer: Day 15

Summer: Day 15

Kylar's POV:

My mind was distracted. That's what I wanted, that's what enabled me to pick up my tourture stake and go back to my house.

Being under the same roof as my brother was a lot harder than I thought, considering he's trying to get in the way of me and Mackenzie. It had always been me and Mackenzie. Zachariah was never in the equation. I met her first, I was her best friend, I was the one she told everything to. I was the one. I was convinced I was the one. Because it was written in the stars—our universes collided the minute I laid eyes on her in kindergarten. Everyone sees it, everyone knows it's bound to happen.

So why can't she?

Nothing ever hurts more than not having someone you can't have. To where that person's whole presence is too important to risk losing all of it for the sake of selfish gain. Because if they don't feel the same way, they'll end up hurt regardless. Hurt at the fact that once those three words—I love you—come spilling out of your mouth, things won't ever be the same. They can't, they just can't.

Maybe that's what has shied me away from telling Mack all these years. The fact that she is far too precious to let slip away from me. So I kept my mouth shut. I mean, we have such a strong bond that if she were to not reciprocate the feelings, I'd lose a part of my soul.

To me she's the world, and I'm simply lost in her mesmerising orbit.

My car pulls into the driveway of my house, next to my brother's Range freaking Rover. He's always kept in contact with my dad. I never did. I guess when you're second best in everything compared to Zachariah, nobody ever really notices you.

To put it in perspective, Zachariah gets: 1) all the girls, 2) Mackenzie's innocent heart, 3) my dad's approval, 4) my mother's praises, 5) all the attention from almost anyone walking past him.

To reiterate number two, he quote-on-quote has Mackenzie's heart. She's always fancied my brother, but it's always just been a silly childhood crush. The kind where you ogile your eyes out the minute they walk in the room, admiring them from afar. At least, that's how it's been the last four years since he hasn't even bothered to strike up a real conversation until recently. This is what I've had to convince myself over the last few days.

And sure, there was a time when we were all close.

But news flash; we aren't ten years old anymore.

This is the real world where real feelings are vulnerable and you can't say things you don't mean. Where the truth is the very epitome of what it means to live.

Note to future me: Kylar, you're a hypocrite.

Taking a deep breath, I open my car door and allow my feet to hit the bland concrete underneath me. My fingers swing the keys around and I lackadaisically walk up to the front door. The minute I step foot in the house, I smell the warmth of coffee and home. You never realize how homesick you've been until you smell the familiarity of everything inside what home is.

I make my way straight to the kitchen where I find my brother fixing himself a cup of coffee. I still can't believe he drinks it black—no wonder he's so incredibly sour.

"Hey," I say with my best straight voice, not really wanting to acknowledge the fact that he's in the same room as me when he could be on the other side of the country. Trust me, I wouldn't complain if he stayed over there for the rest of his life.

"Oh hey," he replies, raising an eyebrow at me when he turns to meet my eyes. There's something about the way he's looking at me that tells me whatever he's about to say will grate against my ears. "How was your date with Britney?"