Make me remember (to forget)

Chapter 2

Logan

This place hasn't changed one bit. A sense of familiarity engulfs me as I look around: the wooden walls, dark blue carpets, beige curtains. The creaky floors that Noah and I have spent hours chasing each other on, the big dark grey couch that I used to fall asleep on, and the connected kitchen counter that mom would ask me to get off of every second, it all brings back so many memories.

"I miss this place. And you, obviously. When was the last time I saw you man?"

He grins at me. "I don't know, two years ago, maybe? I remember that the last time I visited you guys in New York, you and your brother were too cool for me. You were throwing a party and wanted me to make sure Jade wasn't there."

I laugh at the memory. "I promised to give you my favorite comic book if you did so."

"I still have it."

"Good, I'm taking it back." 

That earns me a light smack on my head. "I'm kidding, chill, man. I know learned the hard way not to mess with you and comic books," I say, remembering that one time I took one of his comic books and hoped he wouldn't notice. 

Long story short, he did notice and kept me locked inside the garage with the lights off until I agreed to give it back to him. For your reference, I was about seven years old at that time and he was like, twenty-one or something.

Adam chuckles. "Are you referring to that one time you tried to steal one of my vintage comics?"

I nod. "I'm referring to that one time you locked me inside the garage for like, six hours, you crazy psycho."

"You were the cheekiest kid in the family. Someone needed to teach you a lesson or two," He grins at me and I shrug. 

Maybe I was too cheeky for my own good. Anyway, lesson learned: don't mess with Adam and his comic books. Ever.

I take a second to study him. The guy is brilliant: successful neuropsychiatrist, a pioneer in the mental health medical field in the region, and he's not even thirty-two years old yet.

Mom has been begging him to live with us in New York City for years now, especially after my grandparents' death. After all, he's the only 'family' she has left. However, he's always found excuses, like his job here or that he can't sell the house cause it's in the middle of nowhere and no one is going to buy it- you know, some bullshit that Mom ends up believing.

Now I sort of understand him though. He must like the freedom that comes with being here, in this tiny house in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees and mountains. Not to mention the fact that he's living with his gorgeous, gorgeous girlfriend – which is odd because I always assumed that he was gay – but they were being extremely weird earlier. But I get it, maybe he doesn't want Mom to find out. She would certainly start planning their wedding.

Their relationship has always been complicated. I don't know why, but I think it has to do with my grandparents being super strict about his sexuality (in other words, they were homophobic as fuck but you know what they, do not speak ill of the dead). My mom never really stood up for him. Again, it's complicated and it looks like the guy isn't even gay so my theory is likely to be incorrect.

Maybe there's more to the story. But as I look at the family picture on the wall, they seem happy. Adam still had his braces. Mom was a redhead. My grandpa is laughing his heart out. My grandma is looking at Adam with adoration in her eyes.

Next to that picture is another one of him and a girl. She's holding some sort of trophy and he's grinning at her like she's a goddess or something. She's wearing mountain clothes, so they hide her figure. Is she a mountaineer? That's so cool. I watched this documentary about people who went to Everest once. Sure, I fell asleep midway, but I remember that the first half was cool. Like, they survived some shitty storms and one of them almost died.