The Rules They Broke

Chapter 16: Aftermath of the Aftermath

BLAKE

"And I swear, it's like Elijah didn't even see me! He literally ran right into me and dropped the whole freaking pot on the floor and everything literally went everywhere and you know what? He told me to clean it up!"

"Elijah will never change," Logan replied dryly.

"I mean, he did help me, and I guess....well, he did do most of the work because he half burned my foot with all of that hot soup, but..."

"So basically what you're saying is that there's no point to anything in this whole story?"

"I am not! You forgot about the part where I was crippled for days!"

"Did one of these crippled days include the night you went to the party and someone posted that video of you dancing on the table?"

Blake put his nose in the air. "I was better by then," he huffed.

Logan laughed at him and Blake rolled his eyes. Logan indulged his stories, always, but nothing ever got past him.

They were at the mechanic, getting Logan's bike checked. He had ridden it three hours from Urbana-Champaign the night before, and Elijah had forbidden Logan from riding it back if he didn't get professional maintenance done on it before he left.

The mechanic walked back up to them, wiping his greasy hands on an equally greasy cloth. "Looks like your brake and clutch fluids need to be filled back up, your chain's got to be oiled, and the oil filter should be replaced," he told them.

Logan grumbled out a few curses and handed over the money to the mechanic, who took it and said, "Come back in about two hours. I've got a car lined up before your bike."

As they were leaving the shop, Logan muttered, "Honestly, I could've done this all at home. I can't believe Elijah made me go out and do this. I'm going to make him pay me back."

"Maybe he wanted you out and about for a bit," Blake said.

"First the guy begs me to come home for weeks on end, and when I finally get here, he just wants me gone. If he really wanted me out of his hair, I would've taken off last night."

Blake glanced at him before carefully saying, "Last night's the reason he told you to get some fresh air."

Logan became silent, and Blake didn't like it when Logan was creepily quiet. He couldn't stand to think of what Logan was thinking in his thoughts, alone. So he changed the subject for now.

"You want to go down to the park and play basketball for a while?"

"You always lose anyways."

"That's because you're always cheating."

"If you know I'm always cheating, why don't you ever cheat? Who ever heard of playing a clean game between brothers?"

They found an old, slightly deflated basketball laying dejected by the netless hoops at the park. Blake picked it up and experimentally dribbled a few steps. The ball bounced limply against the ground, but he threw it at Logan.

"You first."

They tossed the ball back and forth for about half an hour, dribbling at random intervals in an effort to revive the ball of its bounciness. Logan pushed and shoved Blake as he saw fit until Blake tripped him, sending him crashing to the ground.

Logan lay on the asphalt, laughing, and Blake smiled at his good mood. Nowadays, it wasn't often that Logan had one of his black moods, but Blake had long ago learned to cherish every happy moment with his brother. They sat together on the cold ground, squinting in the bright sun.