UNEDITED
Not all storms come to disrupt your life, some come to clear your path.
Those are the words that Justin McCallister has been repeating in his mind since the day he was diagnosed with a non-cancerous brain tumour that's been causing partial...
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Adelaide
"So I met your brother yesterday," I tell Justin as we head to English class. It's the first time I've seen him since Halloween and I've gotta say, he's changed. First of all, his hair is longer, the ashen blond tips nearly touching his shoulders, and the bangs are in a messy side sweep. He's gotten skinner, too. The T-shirt he's wearing hangs as loose as a tarp over his frame.
I watch Justin visibly cringe. "Yeah," he remarks, rubbing his arm. "Sorry about that – Chris is a little standoffish with strangers."
Though it was weird as weird can be, I don't delve deeper into it. What happened, happened, and I'm not going to obsess over it. "It's okay," I shrug, picking at a loose purple thread in my knitted sweater. "At least you got the papers and were able to do the majority of the homework. I would have felt bad if Chris had gone upstairs to wake you up – sleep is the best medicine when you're sick."
Justin stops, sighing deeply. I stop and look into his blue eyes that are full of defeat.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"I was awake," he concedes. "I'd just gotten out of the shower and came downstairs seconds after the door shut."
A crease forms between my eyebrows. "Why – why would Chris do that? Lie?" The questions spill out of my mouth before I have the chance to withhold them. Crap. It isn't my place to ask Justin such personal questions about him or family members. I know his parents went through a nasty divorce and that Chris has to go back and forth, but Justin voluntarily told me these things. I feel like an intrusive jerk. "You don't have to answer that. It's not fair of me to question your brother's motives."
Justin shrugs my words off. "Nah," he replies. "It's fine. Chris resents me a little for having the option of staying home with Mom." As the words spill from his mouth, I notice this glazed, haunted look that saturates his eyes, and I suddenly have this strong impression that there's more to the story. "We don't get along like we used to. We fight and argue and things sometimes get out of hand. Chris likes to dig deep when getting his revenge..."
Justin trails off and blatantly stares at the waxed floor.
I stare at him.
There's something off about Justin today; he's not his usual happy self that makes me smile and laugh. It's like a dark cloud has settled over him, letting the ran pour and soak him to the bone. The sparkle in his eyes is gone.
It makes my heart hurt. I want him to be happy.
Shaking his head so that strands of hair fall in his face, Justin looks up and smiles at me. "That's enough about Chris," he says. "How was your weekend?"
Though I want to know more, have him confide in me and tell me about what's bothering him, I'm scared. What if he takes offense to my actions? And, let's be perfectly honest here, though I have this inner desire to be there for him, I'm terrible at talking to people. I get nervous and say the wrong thing. I become a mess.
