When You Least Expect It

16

Chapter 16

The echoes of my emotional outburst lingered as I drifted into a tear-stained slumber. Dad's disappointment hung in the air like a heavy cloud. Why couldn't he understand? The weight of his disbelief bore down on me. It hurt that the person I cared most about didn't believe in me.

The sudden intrusion of sunlight, courtesy of Miles wielding pots and pans like an unconventional alarm clock, pulled me from the clutches of my thoughts.

"Rise and shine!" Miles declared, parting the curtains, flooding the room with an unexpected burst of sunlight. "Woah, did you paint the room?"

It was his birthday today, I reminded myself, forcing my groggy self to sit up and rub my tired eyes. Miles, the eternal optimist, saw today as more than just any day – it was the day a future rockstar was born. October fourteenth, the day I entered the world at 11:58 pm on a Sunday night, and he followed at 12:00 am on Monday.

"Happy birthday," I deadpanned. "Now can I go back to sleep?"

"Nope, big plans ahead of us today."

"Why can't you ditch me for one of your lame friends?"

"I've got a whole agenda for today. Starting with a scenic stroll around town."

My face contorted in disbelief. "A walk? Can't we just game in your room or something?" Video games were the traditional Miles' birthday ritual. Most years, we'd verse one another, followed by Dad and me attempting to bake him a cake.

Miles waved a hand flippantly. "We can save the gaming marathon for another year. You need to get up and move around. You can't just rot in bed because..."

"Because...?"

Miles looked awkward and out of place. "What Harry did."

"Since when did you care about me?"

"Come on, Max. I may be a jerk from time to time, but I'm not a Disney villain. You're still my sister." Then, he added, "Also, Dad told me to check up on you."

Dad couldn't stand to talk to me after last night, so he sent Miles up. My chest tightened, but I managed a kind smile, assuring Miles I'd join him outside in a few minutes. I reluctantly joined Miles after a quick shower, but the heaviness from last night's argument and Dad's disapproval clung to me. Leaving the comfort of my bed, my temporary escape, seemed daunting.

I strolled down our yellowing yard to meet Miles on the other side of the street. The air was stuffy and sharp. I should have brought a jacket. My hair was already frizzing up from the dampness.

"You know, I tell everyone I'm the older twin," Miles remarked as we walked along the road. Occasionally, a passing car would wave. In this small town, everyone knew everyone.

"And why's that?"

Miles shrugged. "Just makes more sense. After all, I am the more mature one."

"You? Mature? Aren't you the one who once put a dead mouse in my room?"

"I was fifteen. Lay off."

We quieted down for a little bit. Miles chucked his cigarette on the ground and crushed it with his battered converse.

"Mom's visiting tomorrow. You coming?" Mom visited on the fifteenth of every month.